Serpentine Heights Elementary (SD36): a neurodiversity-informed policy critique

Serpentine Heights presents its Code of Conduct as an affirmation of safety, inclusion, and communal care. The opening commitments describe a school that values belonging, co-constructed routines, and dignity for every learner, offering a vision of education rooted in relational safety and shared citizenship (p. 1) . This framing gestures toward a caring culture, one in which students learn within environments that elevate responsibility and mutual respect. The spirit is earnest. The aspiration is generous.

Yet, as with many codes across BC, the aspirational language diverges from the operational grammar. Underneath the surface lies a conduct structure informed by behavioural norms, universal compliance expectations, discretionary authority, and an absence of disability-specific protections. The document invites students to “monitor their own decisions” as they move through grades (p. 2), a developmental expectation that presumes emotional regulation, executive functioning stability, and a capacity for self-reflection that many disabled or dysregulated students develop along different timelines.

The result is a code that speaks in warm communal tones while relying on frameworks that risk misunderstanding distress as misbehaviour, difference as defiance, or unmet needs as character lapse. This analysis reads the Code through a neurodiversity-affirming and disability-justice lens, using the school’s own text as the ground of critique.

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Values and expectations: the universal language that obscures difference

The three pillars—Take Care of Yourself, Take Care of Others, Take Care of This Place—compose the central moral vocabulary of the school (p. 1) . These phrases appear gentle and inviting, yet their operationalisation reveals implicit behavioural norms.

A behavioural ideal disguised as universal citizenship

Students are expected to “walk calmly,” “solve conflicts in a respectful and calm way,” “use good listening skills,” and “be honest and tell the truth” (pp. 1–2) . This behavioural list assumes that calm bodies, controlled speech, reciprocal conversation, and immediate honesty flow naturally from all children. Many students—particularly autistic, ADHD, PDA, trauma-impacted, and sensory-sensitive learners—access regulation differently, move differently, communicate differently, and process social information through alternate pathways.

The expectations frame these differences as deviations from the norm rather than as expressions of neurology, sensory load, or distress. A child who retreats, scripts, stims, freezes, or uses abrupt language during overload risks being interpreted as failing to “take care of others.” A child who cannot immediately “do their best” during burnout risks being coded as disengaged rather than depleted.

The rise of moralised effort

Language such as “always do your best” (p. 1) creates a non-falsifiable standard rooted in perception rather than capacity. Educators often interpret “best effort” through compliance, eye contact, or visible participation—behavioural markers that frequently misrepresent neurodivergent engagement. This risks framing disability-related behaviours as moral shortcomings rather than accessibility barriers.

Inclusion framed through conformity

Students are taught that “student leaders act as role models for our desired behaviours” (p. 2) . This constructs a hierarchy of normative behaviours where peer modelling becomes a conduit for social pressure, often leading neurodivergent students to mask in order to avoid stigma. Masking is an act of survival, not an expression of flourishing, and when a code implicitly rewards it, the emotional burden becomes invisible and unaddressed.

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Technology expectations: disability acknowledged, but unevenly

The Code recognises that personal digital devices may support translation, accessibility, and IEP adaptations (p. 3–4) . This is a welcome acknowledgement. Yet the operational rules introduce tension: the school expects personal devices to be “put away” during recess and lunch, except when used for specific access needs.

For many autistic or anxiety-affected students, these unstructured breaks are the most dysregulating parts of the day, and personal devices often serve as regulation tools, communication anchors, or predictable sensory buffers. A default presumption of device absence during high-stress periods may unintentionally remove vital supports unless staff adopt broad, flexible understandings of accessibility needs.

Furthermore, the district’s search policy—allowing principals to search students or their belongings based on “reasonable grounds” (p. 4) —introduces significant vulnerability for disabled students who experience heightened fear of authority or have trauma histories. The absence of clear procedural safeguards amplifies this concern.

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Disability, difference, and the absent lens

The Code uses inclusive rhetoric and references the Human Rights Code (p. 5–6) , yet disability appears only in the context of non-discrimination, not in the design of expectations, interventions, or supports. The text does not describe how to interpret disability-related behaviour, how to adjust expectations, how to recognise sensory distress, or how to distinguish dysregulation from conflict.

This omission carries material consequences.

Behaviour as communication: a framework missing from the Code

Students are expected to “cooperate with all adults,” “solve conflicts in a respectful and calm way,” and “behave safely” (pp. 1–2) . Yet the Code offers no guidance on:

• sensory overload
• impulsivity linked to ADHD
• meltdowns vs. aggression
• interoceptive miscuing
• shutdown
• language retrieval challenges
• trauma-linked responses

Without this interpretive frame, staff may misread communication attempts as misconduct. Distress behaviours require decoding, not correction. The Code affirms none of the scaffolding required for this decoding.

Rising expectations without rising supports

The document states that expectations increase as children age and become “more responsible for monitoring their own decisions” (p. 2) . Disability does not follow linear maturation schedules. Students who experience executive functioning differences or anxiety-linked avoidance may be harmed by developmental assumptions that overestimate capacity and underestimate support needs.

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Restorative language layered onto behaviourist logic

The Code affirms a progressive consequences framework that is “corrective, restorative and supportive” (p. 6) . The intention is admirable; the structure is strained.

Restoration without scaffolding

Restorative practices involve reflection, communication, empathy, perspective-taking, and synthesis. These are advanced cognitive and emotional tasks. The Code offers no direction on:

• visual supports
• alternative communication methods
• sensory-friendly restorative spaces
• the role of integration support staff
• timelines that respect recovery after distress
• the distinction between insight and capacity

This absence creates a steep cliff: restorative processes may exist in theory but become inaccessible in practice for the very students most likely to experience dysregulation.

Behaviour change as proof of learning

The Code emphasises that consequences aim to teach skills and help students “change their behaviour” (p. 1) . Yet disability-related behaviours do not cease through reflection; they diminish through accommodation, relational safety, co-regulation, and environmental redesign. When behaviour change becomes the metric of success, neurodivergent students risk being framed as resistant or irresponsible when they are, in fact, unsupported.

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Collective punishment and group-level risk

Although the Code does not explicitly endorse collective punishment, the structure of expectations and consequences offers openings for group-level discipline, especially through:

• shared routines
• universal behavioural norms
• school-wide expectations
• the language of “rising expectations”
• consequences such as “loss of privileges” (p. 6)

A class may lose privileges when one student struggles. A group may experience increased supervision when one child melts down. A team may face restrictions because of an isolated conflict. Without an explicit prohibition, the risk remains active and unaddressed.

Disabled students disproportionately bear the social fallout when group consequences follow individual distress.

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Suspensions, notification, and procedural vulnerabilities

The Code outlines suspension processes aligned with AP 350 and the School Act, including possible ARTO assessments (p. 7) . The language is legally accurate but lacks disability-specific safeguards. There is:

• no requirement to investigate unmet support needs before suspension
• no mandate to assess whether behaviour arises from distress
• no guarantee of a trauma-informed process
• no reference to procedural fairness

The notification section states that the school “will inform parents of both offender and victim in every instance” of serious behaviour (p. 7) . Without privacy boundaries, this can create reputational harm for disabled students whose behaviours stem from overload rather than intention.

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Summary evaluation

Dimension	Assessment
Equity / Disability Justice	Limited. Disability acknowledged only in non-discrimination clauses; no operational guidance.
Neurodiversity Lens	Minimal. Behaviour framed through effort, calmness, and moral responsibility.
Behaviour Framework	Behaviourist with restorative language layered on top.
Restorative Practice	Aspirational but lacking accessibility scaffolds.
Collective Punishment Risk	Moderate; no explicit prohibition; group norms dominate.
Procedural Safeguards	Insufficient for disabled students; suspension language lacks checks.
Overall Rating	★★☆☆☆

Serpentine Heights offers a hopeful narrative of care and inclusion, yet its operational core reflects universal expectations that leave disabled students vulnerable to misinterpretation and harm. The school’s values are meaningful, but values without structural scaffolding risk becoming tools of conformity rather than foundations of belonging.

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