I grew up not knowing I was neurodivergent. I always knew I was different, but I didn’t know why.
I often wondered why simple things felt so exhausting, why I needed to prepare for every situation, or why socialising felt like running a marathon.
It wasn’t until a teacher in college didn’t see a lazy student who “didn’t want to learn,” and instead someone who tried so hard to understand but just learned differently. This moment marked the first time I was introduced to neurodivergence, and it was then that I began hyper-fixating on research and discovered what neurodivergence truly meant.
When I finally got my diagnosis, it felt like a weight had been lifted. I often say it was the first time my brain truly saw colour. That paper wasn’t just a label, it was the confirmation I had been searching for after countless hours of self-research.
From diagnosis to frustration
As the relief of my diagnosis set in, it quickly turned into frustration. I began to see how little people, including myself, understood about neurodivergence. Excessive misunderstandings led to chronic burnout and I was often dismissed as depressed or anxious.
The leap between college and university is often described as tricky, but for neurodivergent students, it can feel chaotic. Everything from the way support is given to the layout of classrooms. In college, I accessed adjustments without extensive paperwork, but in university, without a formal diagnosis, getting effective support felt nearly impossible.
And this resulted in being exhausted and struggling to maintain my grades in my first year.
It’s crucial to note that universities are legally obligated to accommodate all students, including those without formal diagnoses, under the Equality Act 2010. However, many institutions focus on physical accessibility but often overlook the needs of individuals with sensory impairments. Specialised mentors, dimmable lights, quiet rooms and supportive social spaces can make a huge difference.
Unfortunately, many staff lack awareness and resources for hidden disabilities, leading to students facing challenges in masking their needs, struggling to concentrate and ultimately seeing their grades suffer.
Recent polling from Savata on disabled students found 43 per cent of reasonable adjustment applications were fully or partially rejected (78 per cent given no explanation) and over half of respondents were waiting over five weeks for implementation.
From frustration to campaigning
This frustration inspired the “Building a Neuro-Inclusive Campus Campaign.” Initially, I aimed to raise awareness, but after hearing from other students, I realised I wasn’t alone.
The lights in our classrooms are often painfully bright. After spending time in those rooms, I frequently end up overstimulated and with a migraine. It’s crucial that we create a more comfortable learning environment.
We want to be seen as individuals with diverse learning styles, not just a group of students with disabilities. We are capable and do things differently—that should be acknowledged. Those of us who identify as neurodivergent or who are awaiting diagnosis deserve to be treated with dignity and respect. It’s time for reasonable adjustments that align with the Equality Act of 2010, just as staff are supported.
All educators should undergo training on neurodiversity. When teachers, professors, and lecturers are unapproachable about these topics, it discourages us from seeking help and expressing our needs.
These students’ stories made it clear that this campaign is about more than just awareness, it’s about changing systems.
I launched the “neuro-inclusive campus survey” in Spring 2024, and the results were eye-opening. Two out of five students reported burnout after just one day of lessons. 71 per cent said there were not enough quiet or peaceful spaces to decompress, and 80 per cent agreed that neuro-inclusive spaces are essential for well-being and academic success.
These findings reflected what research has shown for years – sensory-inclusive spaces aren’t a luxury, they’re essential.
Building power and impact
The “building a neuro-inclusive campus campaign” is the initiative I launched to raise awareness, accessibility and support for neurodivergent students at Coventry University. This campaign is about fostering an environment where neurodivergent students can not only survive but truly thrive. We want them to unlock their full potential, feel safe to unmask and develop a sense of belonging.
And the goal is simple: to make sure neurodivergent students feel seen, understood and supported.
The campaign centres on three key pillars: neurodivergent training and awareness, sensory-friendly spaces and accessibility policies. These pillars work together to support current students and shape an inclusive future for those to come.
Sensory rooms provide immediate relief and help students address challenges in the present moment. Meanwhile, the training and awareness initiatives and policy changes aim to shift the campus culture, addressing root issues for sustainable and lasting change – shifting our culture to be more inclusive and understanding.
Sensory Rooms
At Coventry we’ve recently launched the new sensory rooms, a student-led initiative crafted with thoughtful input and care.
Students’ feedback revealed a strong desire for an environment that promotes comfort, tranquillity and inclusivity. These were things like adaptable and comfortable furniture, low-stimulation lighting, reduced noise levels, privacy options, and sensory-friendly spaces that cater to both individual and communal needs.
Our lounge space encapsulates many of these valuable suggestions. There’s a communal sensory-friendly lounge, alongside bookable private sensory rooms designed for groups of 1 to 3 students. These spaces are intended for decompression, stimming and unmasking.
Each sensory room has been thoughtfully designed to cater to specific needs.
The “cloud room” offers a calm, low-stimulation environment ideal for hypersensitive students. The “reef room” provides a vibrant, stimulating atmosphere for hyposensitive students who thrive on sensory input. And the “forest room” serves as a balanced, grounding space for those with in-between sensory requirements.
The lounge supports collaborative group work, while the sensory rooms offer a quiet retreat. These rooms go beyond physical spaces, they are safe havens and are a crucial step toward building a truly neuro-inclusive campus.
It’s everyone’s responsibility
Everything this campaign has achieved is just a starting point for a long-lasting culture change.
I know firsthand how crucial awareness, understanding, support and accommodations are in a university environment. I’ve gone from struggling with my grades in my first year to graduating with a first-class degree and even receiving the Cecil Angel Cup award. My story is just one among hundreds of students who need support.
The sector owes it to our students to help them thrive, not to feel trapped in chronic burnout and racing to achieve accomplishments that others seem to attain effortlessly. Embracing neuro-inclusivity isn’t an act of charity, it’s a matter of equity.
That said, I recognise there’s still work to be done, and change doesn’t happen overnight. If you want to foster a more inclusive campus, there are several ways you can make a positive impact:
- Policy change is important, but it only works if the culture evolves alongside it
- Listen first, gather feedback from those affected
- Share stories, lived experiences foster empathy and challenge stigma and stereotypes
- Start small, even creating one sensory space can make a difference
- Co-create, design initiatives with neurodivergent students, not just for them
- And stay persistent, real change requires time and resilience.
Moving forward, my focus will be on providing training, raising awareness and collecting feedback on sensory rooms to advocate for more spaces throughout the Coventry University Group.
To my fellow neurodivergent individuals, your unique differences are integral to who you are. Embrace them. Through sharing my journey, I want to remind those who feel isolated in their struggles that our uniqueness is something to celebrate, not hide.
