Starting school is a big milestone for any child. For our 5-year-old, who is pre-verbal and in a mainstream school, the journey into Year 1 began reasonably smoothly. Reception year started with only minor incidents—an occasional strike or hair pull, mostly harmless and understandable given their instincts to touch or explore. But as the year progressed, we noticed our child’s dislike for attending school growing. Getting dressed, putting on shoes, and even the car journey became stressful, often resulting in meltdowns before even stepping into the classroom.
Inevitably, some of that emotion spilled over into school. When our child became dysregulated, a teacher’s hair was pulled. It wasn’t done maliciously—it was a child overwhelmed and struggling to communicate—but it was an incident that the school wanted to address formally.
The Support Plan
At the end of reception, just as summer break approached, the school presented an Individual Positive Support Plan. We didn’t receive a draft to take away and consider. Instead, we were given a completed plan and expected to sign it there and then. That pressure to agree on the spot felt like being cornered, not consulted.
We had thought the document would be a collaborative tool to help staff spot triggers, identify signs of dysregulation, and work with our child to prevent escalation. What the plan actually did was focus on “unwanted behaviours,” with much of the blame placed squarely on our child. There was almost no recognition of unmet needs or environmental adjustments that might stop those behaviours in the first place.
For a child who experiences intense emotional swings daily, school can be a minefield. Small changes or disruptions can overwhelm them completely. A plan that puts the responsibility for regulation entirely on the child—without practical support for staff or any acknowledgement of their role—doesn’t feel supportive at all.
When Support Becomes a Burden
The plan suggested that we, as parents, should come into school to observe our child or to intervene during escalations because staff were “unable” or “untrained” to manage the situation themselves. On top of observation, the school also expected parents to come in and change nappies. Never mind that many parents are out trying to earn a living—mainstream schools should adapt and provide care, not push it back onto families.
Practically, it doesn’t work. As soon as a parent appears, a child who is already anxious will often see that as a signal to go home. Once that happens, it’s almost impossible to settle them back into routine. Asking parents to be present in class or to take on intimate care under those conditions can make things worse, not better.
Officially, an Individual Positive Support Plan is meant to be a constructive, collaborative document. The government guidance states that it should:
- Identify a child’s needs and triggers.
- Outline strategies to help them regulate their emotions and behaviours.
- Support staff in preventing escalation and providing positive interventions.
- Be a tool for collaboration between school, child, and parents.
The key word is “positive.” In theory, this should be about understanding and solutions. In practice, the document we were asked to sign did little to acknowledge unmet need, instead framing our child as the problem and leaving parents to fill the gaps. Calling it “positive” felt like a cruel irony—the plan was anything but.
That said, there were some useful strategies included, like ways to redirect attention or soothe our child when emotions started to escalate. But these sensible points were overshadowed by a tone that felt defensive and blaming, as if the school was looking to absolve itself rather than work in partnership.
Responding and Moving Forward
We carefully reviewed the plan and sent back detailed feedback on the parts that needed serious reworking. When we questioned the document and refused to sign on the spot, the school went into defence mode and suddenly wanted meeting after meeting. It wasn’t a fight—we simply wanted a plan that genuinely supported our child, not one that made them the problem.
We are now working through the issues one step at a time, pushing for a truly collaborative plan that recognises how small changes to the environment and staff approach can prevent escalation. Refusing to sign immediately felt necessary; our fear was that signing under pressure would lock in a document that did more harm than good.
This experience is a reminder that not every school plan is created with the child’s best interest at heart. Parents need to advocate, challenge, and work with schools to make sure support is meaningful, respectful and truly positive.
