Not everything wrapped in soft colours and “nervous system” talk is safe.
In a post-ABA world—or at least a world where ABA has learned to change its clothes—many school districts, parent training programs, and private providers now claim to be “neurodiversity-affirming.” They use the language of trauma, talk about connection, and sprinkle in phrases like “co-regulation” or “PDA-informed.” Their websites promise gentle support and calm households. Their materials are pastel-toned and Instagram-ready.
But beneath the branding, many of these programs still reinforce the same old compliance culture. They focus on changing behaviour, reducing distress signals, and helping children “cope” with environments that refuse to change. They teach parents and educators to respond better—but not necessarily to listen.
This matters, because children are being harmed under the banner of compassion. And parents, educators, and administrators who genuinely want to do better are being sold tools that feel ethical, but are still rooted in control.
Here’s how to tell the difference.
1. Who’s the expert, and what’s their stake?
If a program claims to be neurodiversity-affirming but was created solely by neurotypical professionals, be cautious. Even when well-intentioned, programs that exclude disabled and neurodivergent authorship are often blind to the harm they perpetuate.
Ask:
- Is the program led by or co-developed with autistic, ADHD, PDA, or otherwise neurodivergent people?
- Does it credit the lived experiences it draws from—or does it simply extract?
- Have the creators been involved in ethical controversies, appropriation, or unacknowledged borrowing (as in the case of At Peace Parenting and Kristy Forbes)?
If a program is built on autistic wisdom but refuses to name or cite autistic voices, it is not affirming. It is extraction.
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2. What problem is the program trying to solve?
A truly affirming program will never suggest that the child is the problem. It will understand distress behaviour as communication, and it will focus on safety, accommodation, and co-regulation—not “fixing” the child.
Red flags include:
- Goals like “reducing meltdowns,” “improving listening,” or “helping your child behave.”
- Language that implies the child is ungrateful, manipulative, or testing limits.
- Emphasis on frustration tolerance without addressing why the child is frustrated.
Affirming programs want to understand your child. Faux-affirming ones want to manage them.
3. Who is being centred?
Is the parent or educator positioned as the hero? The change agent? The stable force who just needs to find the “right tools”?
Or is the child’s autonomy, emotional safety, and consent placed at the centre?
Genuine programs will:
- Teach adults to adjust their expectations, not reshape the child.
- Help adults become safer companions, not better behaviour managers.
- Encourage curiosity over control.
If the program tells you how to “get buy-in,” it’s selling manipulation in a new package.
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4. What’s the emotional tone of the pitch?
The marketing says a lot.
Compare:
- “Struggling with defiance? We’ll help you get your child back on track.”
- “Is it painful to see your child overwhelmed, and not know how to help? Let’s explore how to support their nervous system together.”
One sells confidence. The other offers relationship.
Faux-affirming programs usually sell:
- Parental confidence
- Return to order
- Calm households
- Measurable improvement
Genuinely affirming ones will offer:
- Greater understanding
- Emotional attunement
- Redefining what safety even looks like
If you leave a webinar feeling like you’ve learned how to “stay in charge,” you haven’t entered an affirming space. You’ve entered a repackaged disciplinary one.
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5. Does it talk about masking, burnout, and school trauma?
This is critical. Any program claiming to serve neurodivergent children must understand:
- That many kids have experienced sustained trauma in school
- That masking often leads to burnout, shutdown, and suicidal ideation
- That school refusal is often a legitimate act of self-protection
If the program talks about:
- “helping kids return to the classroom” without ensuring classroom safety
- “building resilience” without naming the harm
- “increasing independence” without providing real relational support
…it’s likely reinforcing institutional survival, not child-centred care.
Affirming programs name the pain. They don’t pave over it.
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6. Does it name the system?
Finally: does the program acknowledge that children are often reacting to injustice?
Does it talk about:
- Collective punishment
- Sensory assault
- Ableist discipline policies
- Rigid curriculum structures
- The trauma of being constantly misunderstood?
Or does it present the child’s nervous system as the only site of intervention?
If a program tries to “fix the child” without ever mentioning the system they’re reacting to, it is not neurodiversity-affirming. It is institutional preservation disguised as support.
Conclusion: Softness is not safety
A soft voice and nervous system vocabulary are not enough. We must be vigilant. Not just because these programs waste public dollars—but because they risk retraumatising children who have already learned to survive by silence, masking, fawning, or resistance.
If we want to end collective punishment in schools, we must also end the quiet, palatable punishments disguised as parenting advice.
Don’t fall for the branding. Look for the power. Follow the harm. Ask who is being centred.
