Autistic SPACE for Inclusive Education

Abstract

Abstract

The continuing policy commitment to Inclusive Education internationally requires the prioritisation of the creation of inclusive schools in practice. Research with autistic students highlights the complex and multifaceted nature of their school experiences, with inappropriate environments and inadequate teacher knowledge and understanding often reported. This article endeavours to complement existing policy and research by providing a roadmap for the practical enactment of inclusive education for autistic students in school settings. Drawing on the Autistic SPACE framework originally designed for healthcare settings, the current authors extend its applicability to the education landscape. The Autistic SPACE framework affords consideration to the core areas of autistic difference. It comprises of five core domains: Sensory, Predictability, Acceptance, Communication and Empathy, supported by three wider domains: physical space, processing space and emotional space. Using an extensive research base, the domains of Autistic SPACE are contextualised from an education perspective. In an effort to bridge the research-to-practice gap, practical ideas for implementing the Autistic SPACE framework in the school context support are provided.

Introduction

Valuing diversity and ensuring equal access to education are the legislative foundations of Inclusive Education, enshrined by the United Nations (UN) Convention on the Rights of the Child (United Nations, 1989), underpinned by the Salamanca Statement (UNESCO, 1994) and the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UN, 2006). A continuing commitment to Inclusive Education is most recently reflected in the UN Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) (United Nations, 2015). SDG 4 sets out indicators for ‘inclusive and equitable quality education … for all’, while SDG 10 identifies a pledge to ‘reduced inequality’ (UNESCO, 2015, pp. 17–21). However, internationally, education systems often fail to recognise (Munroe & Dunleavy, 2023) and provide the necessary accommodations and support needed by many autistic students (Hebron & Bond, 2017; Horgan et al., 2022; NAS, 2021). This can lead to social isolation, bullying, reduced curricula, higher rates of exclusion from the classroom environment and poorer academic outcomes for these students (Hebron & Bond, 2017; O’Hagan & Hebron, 2017), along with increased risks of expulsion (Brede et al., 2017) and even physical restraint (McDonell, 2019). Moreover, accounts from autistic students indicate that they don’t feel included in mainstream schools (Goodall, 2018), citing sensory stressors, friendships and anxiety as major hurdles (Bailey & Baker, 2020).

With significant increases in the number of autistic students attending mainstream schools internationally (Department for Education, 2018; Maenner et al., 2020; NCSE, 2016), teachers feel unduly burdened to implement change (Li & Ruppar, 2021). Research indicates that teachers frequently lack the knowledge and resources to apply inclusive practices to effectively support neurodivergent students (Horgan et al., 2022; Humphrey & Hebron, 2015; NAS, 2021; Ravet, 2018). It follows that schools need to understand the barriers faced by autistic students to address and advance their access rights to equal education (Pelicano et al., 2018).

Here we introduce the Autistic SPACE framework (Doherty et al., 2023), which was designed by Autistic Doctors International (ADI) for busy practitioners in healthcare settings. The memorable framework encompasses commonalities shared by autistic people and offers a capacity-building approach to serve as a practical roadmap for creating inclusive environments that respect and celebrate neurodiversity. This article aims to build on embodied autistic experience to adopt the principles of the framework to guide teachers in implementing effective strategies for supporting autistic and neurodivergent students within both mainstream and special education settings.

Educational Context

Inclusion may be a key priority within education (UN, 2006; UNESCO, 2015); however, confusion abounds, as integration and inclusion are frequently conflated in practice (Rose & Shevlin, 2020). Traditional educational settings, which target integration, that is, expecting students to fit into pre-existing models (Florian & Black-Hawkins, 2011; Pellicano et al., 2018), often intensify the array of sensory, social and emotional challenges faced by autistic students (den Houting, 2018). Inclusion differs significantly, necessitating adaptions of schooling to meet the student's needs in a responsive environment, including the provision of individualised support, tailored teaching and approaches that are sensitive to the communicative style, sensory and emotional needs of autistic students (Bailey & Baker, 2020; Odom et al., 2013; Petersson-Bloom & Holmqvist, 2022).

Given the context of busy, inadequately resourced classrooms, misconceptions of autistic traits and associated distressed behaviours, inclusive education is considered one of the most challenging issues facing educators (Russell et al., 2023; Gomez-Mari et al., 2022; Simo-Pinatella et al., 2023). Many teachers believe they are inadequately trained to teach autistic students (e.g., Lisak Šegota et al., 2022; Ravet, 2018) yet express a strong desire for more support and training to effectively meet autistic needs in their classrooms (Petersson-Bloom & Holmqvist, 2022). Of course, failure to prepare and support teachers to work with autistic students has universally negative outcomes, for example, reduced self-efficacy, increased vulnerability to stress, isolation, burnout and poor staff retention (Finlay et al., 2022; Ravet, 2011). Critically, research suggests that building capacity for genuine inclusion will require systemic change that addresses stigma while meeting the educational, social and emotional needs of all students (Alcorn et al., 2024; NCSE, 2016). Even so, commitment to Inclusive Education must move beyond deficit-based models of autism and build from the lived experience of autistic students and autistic teachers to create learning environments that prioritise autistic wellbeing and value autistic strengths in a neurodiversity affirmative setting (Leadbitter et al., 2021; Wood et al., 2022).

This article will complement existing national and international policy documents pertaining to Inclusive Education by illustrating how the Autistic SPACE framework can be used to promote the creation of inclusive learning environments that value neurodiversity and move beyond deficit-based models of autism. Since its initial conceptualisation (Doherty et al., 2023), the Autistic SPACE framework has been widely adopted in medical and psychiatric settings and in medical professional development programs, with a recent adaptation published for the context of social work (Guthrie et al., 2024). Furthermore, the Autistic SPACE framework is gaining momentum in the educational landscape. The National Autism Implementation Team [NAIT] created a table using the Autistic SPACE acronym to provide examples of possible reasonable adjustments which may support autistic educators to advocate for their own and their students’ needs (NAIT, 2024). Similarly, underpinned by the Autistic SPACE framework, Middletown Centre for Autism (MCA) developed the Early Years Foundation Stage (EYFS) Tool (MCA, 2025), which aims to give parents and early years professionals a space to reflect on their child's learning. Other researchers have identified and recommended the use of the Autistic SPACE framework for educational settings (Giltinan et al., 2025; Howe, 2024; Keoghan et al., 2025). It is hoped that the SPACE acronym will assist busy teachers to recognise and meet autistic student needs. The following sections will introduce the Autistic SPACE framework before examining each dimension in terms of its applicability to the school context.

Autistic SPACE

Originally designed for busy practitioners in healthcare settings, Autistic SPACE is a framework (Figure 1) intended to promote accessibility for autistic and neurodivergent individuals without adding to existing demands or burdens within a given context (Doherty et al., 2023). The SPACE acronym comprises five core needs commonly experienced by autistic people: Sensory needs, Predictability, Acceptance, Communication and Empathy. Additionally, the framework includes three essential domains: Physical space, Processing space and Emotional space. Here we will consider the relevance of these domains in the educational context. While we introduce the space framework for autistic students, just as it has been used to guide support for neurodivergent doctors (Heaps et al., in press), we believe it also offers potential in the provision of inclusive education for neurodivergent students more broadly.

Figure 1.

Autistic Sensory, Predictability, Acceptance, Communication and Empathy (SPACE) Framework (Doherty et al., 2023).

In order to counter the epistemic injustices so often experienced by autistic individuals in relation to their capacity as agents of knowledge regarding autism, the basis of the need for autistic and neurodivergent students is evidenced in research and subsequently addressed in the Autistic SPACE Framework. To further support educators with embedding this framework in practice, tables summarising the practical application of each dimension will accompany the discussion. A reference document containing all tables included can be found in the supplementary material.

Sensory Needs

Mainstream classrooms are often described as ‘deliberately stimulating’ environments (Jones et al., 2020, p. 9), filled with noise, bright lights and crowded spaces that many autistic students find debilitating (Birkett et al., 2022; Horgan et al., 2022; Howe & Stagg, 2016). Furthermore, school uniforms have been identified by autistic young people as a barrier to their inclusion due to the sensory distress certain items may cause (Mullally et al., 2024). Indeed, autistic students rated sensory processing differences on a par with social difficulties in determining their classroom experiences (Goodall, 2020). However, sensory stressors may be imperceptible to non-autistic people (Phung et al., 2021) and the discomfort caused by the mismatch between the school environment and individual sensory needs can hinder autistic students’ academic learning (Howe & Stagg, 2016; Piller & Pfeiffer, 2016), impact educational experiences (Saggers, 2015) and have implications for autistic students’ sense of safety (National Autism Implementation Team [NIAT], 2020). Despite the profound impact on learning, sensory needs may be inadequately considered in school contexts (Jones et al., 2020). Given that sensory stressors are complex and cumulative, with overload leading to involuntary meltdowns or shutdowns (Belek, 2019), a comprehensive, multi-informed understanding of needs is vital to enhance educational outcomes. Moreover, recognising the implications of enforced compliance for autistic expression and autonomy (McGill & Robinson, 2020), providing students with increased agency and control is crucial for student wellbeing (McKinlay et al., 2024).

Sensory processing complexly varies, even within individuals, from sensory seeking to sensory avoidance, hypo- to hyper-reactivity and with circumstantial and cumulative stresses producing unexpected responses (Doherty et al., 2023) that are often mis-labelled as ‘challenging behaviours’ (Phung et al., 2021). In light of this, an assessment of the student's sensory profile is important, with an occupational therapist best placed to conduct the assessment and advise next steps. Furthermore, the embodied nature of sensory experiences necessitates an individualised approach in which the voices of autistic students are sought and embraced (Cunningham, 2022; Hummerstone & Parsons, 2023). In addition, research recommends creating predictable, manageable sensory environments and quieter spaces within schools where students can retreat and self-regulate when feeling overwhelmed (Howe & Stagg, 2016; McAllister & Sloan, 2016). With student collaboration, these spaces, alongside flexible learning environments, can empower students, allowing them to manage their sensory needs while continuing to engage in educational activities (Birkett et al., 2022; McKinlay et al., 2024).

Sensory needs are an ever-changing dynamic which autistic individuals may struggle to communicate and/or may also not be aware of. Furthermore, due to their embodied nature, they may be missed or misunderstood in the school context, highlighting the significance of collaborating with an occupational therapist and working from the student's sensory profile. The sensory domain may help teachers to see how needs and tolerances fluctuate and what can be done to reduce sensory barriers to learning. Table 1 provides recommendations for supporting the sensory domain in practice.

Table 1.

‘S’ for Sensory.

Predictability

It is widely recognised that autistic students express a preference for predictability, routine and structure (Anderson et al., 2024; Cunningham, 2022) and unexpected changes may exacerbate anxiety (Bailey & Baker, 2020; Goodall, 2020; Emerson & Costley, 2023). While familiar school routines may bring some predictability and reassurance (Cunningham, 2022), schools are inevitably fluid environments, with busy corridors, variable classroom management and unscheduled changes scattered throughout the school day. Thus, increasing predictability and planning for and supporting students to manage and cope with change is important in the school context. Practical suggestions for embedding predictability are outlined in Table 2.

Table 2.

‘P’ for Predictability.

Visual supports have been identified as an evidence-based practice (Steinbrenner et al., 2020) which support an individual's understanding of the physical or social environment and abstract concepts (Rutherford et al., 2020). Supports such as visual schedules, choice boards, among others, are useful proactive strategies for supporting autistic individuals to navigate change in environments as they can provide structure, routine and sequence to activities within the school day and beyond (Rutherford et al., 2020). While visual supports can be incorporated as a part of a universal, whole-class approach (Droney & Verbiest, 2022), it is important to ensure that they are purposeful and reflect the individual needs of the autistic student for whom they have been designed to support (see Rutherford et al., 2020 and MCA, 2025 for more specific information).

While appreciating that change is sometimes inevitable and can’t always be controlled, it is important to meet students where they are at, to help them to manage and cope with change. Furthermore, educators should recognise that some students may not feel comfortable using designated supports and consequently may internalise their distress; ‘I feel scared and I feel embarrassed’; ‘Sometimes I go into the toilet and quietly try and take deep breaths, sometimes I cry in there’ (Cunningham, 2022, p. 1218). Indeed, the significance of being able to retreat to a predictable space within and/or beyond the classroom and being able to seek out a dependable, ‘safe’ adult in the school environment, without consequence, should not be underestimated (Costley et al., 2021; McKinlay et al., 2024). Alternatively, some autistic individuals may mitigate feelings of overwhelm by stimming. Described as repetitive, self-stimulatory behaviours and often stigmatised (Legault et al., 2024), these sounds and movements can offer familiar dependable feedback in challenging situations, support self-regulation and promote autistic joy (Morris et al., 2025).

Therefore, autistic students need both structure and flexibility within the measures taken to create a predictable environment, but ensuring that the student can meet their needs by stimming or availing of a safe exit option regardless of environmental change, can further reduce anxiety.

Acceptance

Acceptance of difference and the necessity of flexibility, differentiates inclusion from integration. In researching the concept of inclusion with autistic young people, Goodall (2020) found that a sense of belonging and relationships within the school environment are more important than merely being in the mainstream setting. Autistic young people have shared that peer-awareness of autism makes them feel included in school (Goodall, 2020), while autistic adults have emphasised the importance of others’ knowledge and acceptance of autism as a factor that can positively contribute to their wellbeing (McConachie et al., 2020). Similarly, a systematic review of studies in which autistic adolescents and adults identified factors that related to positive experiences in mainstream secondary school revealed that feeling understood and accepted by others was powerful and, for some, resulted in increased self-acceptance (McKinley et al., 2024).

However, in the absence of a culture of acceptance and fearing rejection or ridicule, autistic students may mask their expressions of autistic identity to ‘fit in’ or ‘blend in’ in the school context (Cunningham, 2024; Miller et al., 2021; Pearson et al., 2023). The anxiety and distress experienced in unsuitable or unsupportive social environments (Cunningham, 2022) can have a cumulative negative impact on health and wellbeing beyond their school years (Pearson & Rose, 2021; Raymaker et al., 2020). Consequentially, it is imperative to support autistic students’ sense of acceptance and inclusion in the education context (see Table 3 for suggestions on how to promote acceptance in the school context).

Table 3.

‘A’ for Acceptance.

Schools have an obligation to remove any barriers to an ‘inclusive and equitable quality education’ for all children (United Nations, 1989). The Autistic SPACE framework provides a mechanism which can help identify neurodivergent students’ needs and enable schools to adopt a neurodiversity-affirmative approach that fosters autism acceptance and actively attends to creating autistic socially supportive environments. We encourage schools to accept their responsibility to make adaptions. We recognise that change can be challenging and may even feel counterproductive at times compared to relying on traditional, normative approaches. However, we cannot ignore that some autistic students may suppress and internalise enormous struggles (McGill & Robinson, 2020; Pearson & Rose, 2021), and, therefore, the consequences of stagnation have far greater implications. This is starkly captured by one autistic individual in research by McGill and Robinson (2020, p. 7) who stated, ‘I was taught that being able to fool people I was neurotypical was my best goal in life’. While internalising can negatively impact self-perception (McGill & Robinson, 2020), research has linked pride in being autistic with higher self-esteem (Corden et al., 2021), and empowering autistic pride has resulted in improved autistic wellbeing (Mullally et al., 2024). Therefore, accepting and understanding autism and adopting a neuroaffirmative approach to support provision may mitigate these harmful experiences.

Schools could consider providing teachers with professional development opportunities which centre autistic lived experience, seek engagement with the autistic community (Cunningham, 2022), autistic teachers (Wood & Happé, 2021), to create neuro-affirming autism initiatives as a school community and supporting student understanding through peer-learning programmes (e.g., LEANS; Alcorn et al., 2022/NEST; Crompton et al., 2024) and beyond through autistic empowerment and advocacy (e.g., NeuroBears; Pandas, 2025/Autism Level UP!; Laurent & Fede, 2020).

Communication

Recent studies illustrate how communication difficulties may arise when autistic people interact with non-autistic people but are equally successful within peer-to-peer interactions (i.e., non-autistic/non-autistic and autistic/autistic) (Crompton et al., 2020). Milton (2012) first described this breakdown in mutual understanding between autistic and non-autistic people, coining it the double empathy problem. Historically, the ‘problem’ or difficulty in communication was assigned to the autistic individual rather than recognising the issue as bidirectional between the autistic individual and the non-autistic individual. These differences may include differences in the use of gaze, eye contact, gestures and posture and may be open to misinterpretation (Doherty et al., 2021). Furthermore, differences in sensory experiences may impact the autistic individuals’ ability to speak or respond (Crompton et al., 2021), and in situations of immense stress and anxiety, entire loss of speech may occur (Bogdashina, 2022).

When directly asked, a students’ capacity to authentically communicate their needs depends on the level of trust they have built with the inquiring individual. For example, in research by Mullally et al. (2024, p. 13), one student shared, ‘I don't feel brave to tell people at school what I need. I don't think they listen or get why I'm struggling. I only feel brave enough to tell my parents what I need’. This insight emphasises the importance of relationship development grounded in an acceptance and celebration of neurodiversity. We encourage educators to prioritise connecting with their students to create safe environments where their voices are heard.

It is, however, important to acknowledge that ∼25%–35% of autistic children are non-speakers with few to no spoken words (Rose et al., 2016), yet their abilities and needs cannot be determined by labels, such as ‘verbal’ and ‘non-verbal’ (Heyworth et al., 2022). Augmentative and Alternative Communication (AAC) methods have enabled first-person accounts and meaningful insights into the experiences of non-speaking autistic people (Baggs, 2010; Higashida, 2013). ‘Every single time I’m talked down to, I end up feeling utterly miserable—as if I’m being given zero chance of a decent future’ (Higashida, 2013, p. 29). Therefore, a critical distinction between being non-speaking and not being able to understand language must be recognised. In light of this, communication capacity should be assumed, and educators should make a conscious effort to support the autistic students to communicate using their preferred mode of communication (Heyworth et al., 2022).

Additionally, research by Wood (2020, p. 111) reported that noises made by autistic students in the school context are rarely considered authentic communication, unless they ‘correspond with the expectations or intentions of the supporting adult’. This startling finding may reduce feelings of belonging and hamper learning (Wood & Milton, 2018). Furthermore, when objectives focus on compliance, we ignore student preferences and priorities and deny them the autonomy required for safeguarding (McGill & Robinson, 2020). While encouraging teachers to communicate directly with students to elicit experiential insights, it is important to note that some students may feel unable to engage authentically at school (Mullally et al., 2024). However, their parents/guardians will have valuable insights and are important advocates for their autistic child's needs. Moyse (2021) cautioned that unseen and unmet needs can impact student mental health, resulting in frequent school absence. Should differences arise between home and school accounts, the author called for schools to address these as ‘school’ issues and not dismiss them as ‘home’ problems, describing remediation support as too little, too late for the students in her study. Table 4 provides some important considerations when supporting the communication needs of autistic students.

Table 4.

‘C’ for Communication.

Empathy

Empathy is presented across autism research with differing interpretations proffering varied theories and societal perceptions (Bollen, 2023). Typically, cognitive empathy refers to the ability to recognise one's own and/or another's emotional state and perspective, while affective empathy refers to the ability to experience and respond to another's emotional experiences or expressions. Contrary to a popular and damaging misconception, autistic people do not lack empathy (Fletcher-Watson & Bird, 2020) but rather experience or express empathy differently (Rieffe et al., 2021). Indeed, many autistic people report experiencing hyper-empathy, to the point of needing to ‘shutdown’ to cope with emotional onslaught (Hume & Burgess, 2021; Kimber et al., 2024), which may have implications for support in the education context.

Milton (2012) argues that autistic people have different ways of experiencing and understanding the world due to sensory, perceptual and cognitive differences and these differences can be difficult for non-autistic individuals to understand. In the past, differences in social interaction and communication were perceived as a ‘deficit to be rectified’ solely by the autistic individual, as the non-autistic majority deemed what would be considered ‘appropriate’, ‘challenging’ and ‘socially important’ (Mason, 2005 as cited by Milton, 2018). However, the double empathy problem highlighted the bi-directional nature of mutual misunderstanding in communication between autistic and non-autistic individuals (Milton, 2012), thereby challenging deficit-based understandings of autistic/non-autistic interactions.

Within a school context, teachers/educators may struggle to empathise with the autistic student experience of classroom activities and environment, which can invariably result in a mismatch between the needs of the student and the support provided. Furthermore, when combined with a lack of peer/teacher knowledge and understanding of autism (Goodall, 2020; Young et al., 2017), the double empathy problem can expound the difficulties experienced by autistic individuals in any education setting and beyond (Hanlon et al., 2022). As suggested earlier, we encourage teachers to explore autistic lived experience with autistic students and their parents. Moreover, in agreement with Rabba et al. (2022, p. 29) we believe that eliciting the expertise of autistic parents and autistic teachers ‘is a crucial next step in creating an education environment in which autistic students are more likely to flourish’. Lastly, in recognising the diversity of autistic experience, we further recommend teachers to engage with autistic adults in their community and with content and insights shared by autistic people (e.g., blog posts and autobiographical literature).

It is imperative that teachers are aware of the double empathy problem and actively seek to consider the experiences and views of their autistic students, rather than making assumptions based on their prior experiences or perceptions of the circumstance at hand. When aiming to elicit and validate the perspectives of the autistic students, it can be useful to check comprehension of the situation in line with the mode of communication being used by the autistic student (spoken language, AAC and gesture) to ensure arrival at a shared understanding is more likely to result in more effective collaboration (Doherty et al., 2023). Table 5 summarises the authors’ recommendations for attending to the empathy domain in practice.

Table 5.

‘E’ for Empathy.

Wider Spaces

The SPACE framework also addresses the necessity of physical, processing and emotional space, which are integral to an autistic person's sense of safety.

Physical Space

Appropriately structured physical environments can increase comfort levels and, in turn, support autistic student engagement in the school context (see Table 6 for practical considerations relating to physical space; Mostafa, 2014; Rajotte et al., 2025). Referred to as ‘Spatial Sequencing’, Mostafa (2014) proposes that areas should be organised in a logical order, informed by their identified typical purpose. In light of this, schools should consider setting clear boundaries and zones within the school, classroom and playground environments, using simple organisational layouts and specifying easily legible and defined routes in the school building (Black et al., 2022; McAllister & Sloan, 2016; MCA, 2025; Rajotte et al., 2025). Furthermore, reducing visual clutter in the physical environment may help students concentrate on relevant information and reduce distraction (Martin & Wilkins, 2021; Rajotte et al., 2025; Wood, 2019).

Table 6.

Physical Space.

Physical
Consider compartmentalising areas in the classroom into clearly defined zones with clear boundaries Reduce visual clutter Consider seating, working and transition arrangements Ensure there are easily legible routes within social spaces Identify withdrawal spaces and sensory spaces available to students and access to such spaces

Autistic individuals may need more physical space and may find proximity to others to be overwhelming (Strömberg et al., 2022). Some autistic adults reported being hyperreactive to touch from others, especially if light or unexpected (MacLennan et al., 2023), explaining unexpected reactions to regular school interactions, for example, lining up. Furthermore, tactile defensiveness can cause some autistic individuals to react physically to tactile stimuli, particularly when they are anxious or overwhelmed (Smirni et al., 2019). Well-considered seating arrangements, flexible workstations, placement spots for activities that requiring lining up and one-way traffic systems in busy areas are simple, inclusive measures that can be enacted in at the school level (Martin & Wilkins, 2021; Rajotte et al., 2025; Riordan et al., 2024).

Autistic students have highlighted their need to retreat when stressed or anxious (Horgan et al., 2022), with a review by McKinlay et al. (2024) noting that respite spaces can be used to escape the negative stimuli in an environment or increase positive experiences. There is also evidence to suggest that access to safe or quiet spaces may be beneficial for other neurodivergent students (Riordan et al., 2024). Therefore, consideration should be afforded to the provision of an ‘escape’ space in a quiet section of the room or away from the main classroom environment to enable all students to meet their regulation needs safely (Black et al., 2022; Mostafa, 2008). Specific examples of ‘escape’ spaces may take the form of sensory rooms, sensory spaces, zen zones, quiet zones, among others. Affording attention to the physical space is imperative to create inclusive school environments.

Processing Space

School environments are manageable for most neurotypical students because they can spread attention broadly and filter unnecessary stimuli (i.e., a polytropic attention style). Alternatively, monotropism, an autistic theory of autism, details a processing style whereby autistic attentional resources are used to focus more intensely on fewer things at a given time (Murray et al., 2005). This atypical distribution of attention, interest and information processing (referred to as an attention tunnel) has many advantages, for example, stimming or hyper focusing on a preferred task can reduce stress and improve wellbeing (Heasman et al., 2024). Working with interests that spark monotropic attention in the classroom have been linked to educational, social and affective gains for students, affording more skilled and compassionate support with far less effort on behalf of staff (Murray, 2018; Wood, 2018). Allowing students extended time to engage with interest-based tasks can facilitate a ‘flow state’ (Rapaport et al., 2024), that is, an optimal experience where predictability, control and focus reduce anxiety (McDonnell & Milton, 2014), which can support self-regulation and a sense of wellbeing (Atkinson et al., 2024).

While fostering individual motivations and removing potential disrupters to flow enhances autistic learning, ‘maintaining, disengaging or transitioning to other states and activities may sometimes be associated with challenges – particularly if the importance of flow is poorly understood or unsupported’ (Heasman et al., 2024, p. 490). Monotropism highlights the need for processing space (see Table 7 for ideas) as autistic students must build inertia to focus attention, may miss things outside an attention tunnel (e.g., teacher instruction) and explains why abrupt redirection can be problematic (Murray, 2018). Given that timetabled plans and loud school bells are interspersed throughout the school day, it can be beneficial to support the mental shift required of individuals in focusing attention from their current task to the next. This can be achieved by creating organised routines, providing concise, logical, instructive information prior to the task commencing, along with advanced and structured notice that an activity is coming to an end (e.g., incorporating visual supports like timers) and creating transitional activities. Increasing predictability and affording autistic students some control over a given situation can support a monotropic processing style. However, most importantly, it is necessary to provide extended wait time in the classroom to support autistic processing. We encourage teachers to allow increased time for autistic students to respond to questions, process instructions and make decisions.

Table 7.

Processing Space.

Processing
Learn about the theories of ‘monotropism’ and ‘autistic inertia’ Recognise processing differences and their implications for the classroom Provide ‘wait’ time (asking questions, delivering instructions, decision making) Provide supports to assist in processing

Emotional Space

Autistic students may not identify, process, manage or display emotional states in ways that are always understood or accepted (Brewer et al., 2016) by neurotypical individuals, yet it is vital to accept that the in-school challenges faced (Cai et al., 2018) by these students can cause emotional and sensory overload which may lead to autistic meltdown or shutdown. Techniques that soothe a non-autistic person (e.g., gentle touch and words of encouragement) might be intolerable and add to the overwhelm experienced by an autistic student (Doherty et al., 2023) triggering a defensive or aggressive reaction (Smirni et al., 2019). In recognising this, it is important for teachers to consider how they can build trust and develop emotionally safe relationships with autistic children to meet their needs (see Table 8). Research has highlighted a number of different strategies for relationship building in the classroom context, namely: embracing student interests, having one-to-one time, providing safety, being patient and providing positive feedback and compliments (Bolourian et al., 2022; Rajotte et al., 2025; Wood, 2021) However, where meltdowns or shutdowns arise, providing emotional space for recovery and self-regulation helps to avoid inadvertently escalating the situation (Phung et al., 2021). To ensure safety, it is best to minimise environmental sensory input, avoid unnecessary words or questions, allowing time and space for regulation and recovery (Haydon et al., 2021).

Table 8.

Emotional Space.

Emotional

Appreciate that autistic individuals may process and express emotions differently Accept parental accounts of stress and anxiety displayed at home but masked in school to ‘fit in’ Be aware of alexithymia Adapt the social, sensory and physical environment to meet the needs of the autistic individual as this will positively support emotional regulation If an autistic individual is experiencing difficulties regulating, reduce demands (sensory and social stress) and provide a space for recovery and self-regulation

Around 50% of autistic individuals experience alexithymia, that is, difficulty in identifying and distinguishing personal emotional states from bodily states (Vaiouli et al., 2022). Pearson and Rose (2021, p. 55) detail how the efforts required to ‘mask’ and ‘fit in’ puts further ‘strain on an already depleted system’, preventing stress recognition until the breaking point has been reached. They argue that suppressing internal states can lead to long-term mental health difficulties and burnout. Monitoring episodes of fatigue, school absence and burnout is imperative for autistic students’ wellbeing. Changes (reported by parents or observed in school) should prompt regular checks that an autistic student's sensory and emotional needs can be identified and met within school settings (Moyse, 2021).

Conclusion

This article introduced the Autistic SPACE framework, which was originally devised for busy healthcare professionals. While autistic experience and challenges remain the same, whether in a medical or educational setting, teachers bear additional responsibility to identify diversity in learning and develop skills to adapt their teaching and classroom environment accordingly (e.g., UNESCO, 2015). Therefore, appreciating the contextual factors that can influence the enactment of inclusive education (i.e., training, resourcing and support; Department of Education, 2024; Li & Ruppar, 2021; Leonard & Smyth, 2022) and recognising the agentic role of teachers as facilitators (Li & Ruppar, 2021), the Autistic SPACE framework may provide teachers with a starting point, which can inform small changes to practices to improve the educational experiences of autistic students. The framework has been proffered to highlight core domains for consideration for educational provision for autistic students. It is not intended to be prescriptive. Instead, we hope that the signposting within this paper will support educators to engage with the core domains with reference to the papers cited, hyperlinks included or through individual further research.

Autistic students are not a problem to be fixed, but while deficit-based theories and methodologies dictate school practices, these students continue to have their identity suppressed and are unlikely to thrive. For example, objectives to improve communication feature prominently in school plans (Dockrell et al., 2012) and generally focus on neuronormative outcomes, effectively rejecting autistic culture and communication. Alternatively, a neurodiversity-affirmative ethos, where differences are valued as part of the natural range of human development (Shaw et al., 2021), can help identify and challenge ableism and unconscious bias within education.

Horgan et al. (2022) concluded from their systematic review of autistic student experiences and perspectives in post-primary education that ‘…negative interactions with teachers and peers, experiences of bullying, interactions with an inflexible curriculum, an unpredictable environment and not feeling supported meant that many did not always experience a sense of belonging in their mainstream schools’ (p. 534).

Participatory studies with autistic students at both primary and secondary levels illustrate how the misunderstanding of teachers and peers dominate their concerns. Calls for targeted learning about autism, combined with appeals for support and skilful delivery of meaningful accommodations, also feature in these studies (Cunningham, 2022; Goodall, 2018). Empowering autistic students’ voice is crucial as insights gained from these students and the wider autistic community through autistic derived theories of monotropism (Murray et al., 2005) and double empathy (Milton, 2012) will enable strength-based acceptance (Wood, 2021). Additionally, meeting the needs of autistic students will facilitate classroom management, with far less effort by individual teachers and greater rewards for the whole school community (Murray, 2018; Wood, 2021; Wood et al., 2022).

We recognise that different teachers and different contexts may engage with different domains to varying extents depending on their prior knowledge, experience and capacity. As a first step, we encourage educators to consider downloading and/or printing out the practical SPACE table included in the supplementary files to use as a reference tool to support inclusive planning and practice. For teachers adopting the framework at an individual classroom level, we recommend engaging with the domains most relevant to your current circumstances and building from there. The framework may support teachers to seek resources and professional development and challenge exclusionary practices and policies (Li & Ruppar, 2021). However, we also hope that the Autistic SPACE framework may facilitate important open and honest conversations at a school level. We believe that examining the framework in Communities of Practice or at whole-school meetings may support its enactment in a contextually sensitive manner and inform decision making at a policy level, with the aim to improve the experiences of both neurodivergent students and neurodivergent educators. At this point, we would like to reassure teachers that it is okay not to know what to do or where to start. We encourage you to use Autistic SPACE as your starting point, reach out and learn from others. Most importantly, we urge you to view inclusion as a process and continually review your assumptions and practices.

In summation, it is our belief that the autistic-devised SPACE framework can promote deeper consideration of autistic experience and opportunities for mitigating stressors to prompt a positive narrative. It is hoped that the striking simplicity of the graphic associated with the Autistic SPACE framework, along with the accuracy of the acronym, will increase the accessibility and appeal of this framework for dissemination in the education landscape. Furthermore, we, the authors, are optimistic that the discussion outlining the relevance and application of the framework to the education context, the supporting references and the concise tables summarising practical application will facilitate immediate impact in education settings and encourage educators to further engage with core domains of the framework through consultation with autistic individuals and neuroaffirmative research. The flexibility of the framework offers potential for continual reflection and development in terms of its potential and use in education contexts, and beyond. Future research to determine the efficacy of the framework in practice would be valuable. Additionally, research eliciting educators’ views on and experiences of using the Autistic SPACE framework in practice would hold merit.

Supplemental Material

sj-zip-1-ndy-10.1177_27546330251370655 - Supplemental material for Autistic SPACE for Inclusive Education

Supplemental material, sj-zip-1-ndy-10.1177_27546330251370655 for Autistic SPACE for Inclusive Education by Elaine McGoldrick, Aoife Munroe, Rachel Ferguson, Carina Byrne and Mary Doherty in Neurodiversity