05/17/2025
Oh my, this couldn’t be more true. Ability level and performance level so often do not match for these children. But, don’t underestimate what they can do.
They are often intrinsically motivated (by curiosity, pride, etc.) and not driven by external factors (grades, consequences..). They make great assets to our society, standing true to their own value system, but certainly difficult to teach or parent 😅🙃.
If I haven’t plugged Dr. Ross Greene enough, these children are a great fit for his strategies. ✅
https://www.facebook.com/share/1Adz5oRCZB/?mibextid=wwXIfr
When Neurodivergent Pupils Don’t “Show What They Can Do” in Class
Let’s talk about something I’ve seen over and over again—not just as a parent, but as someone who’s watched neurodivergent children and young people navigate a world that often misunderstands them.
Some children don’t perform on demand. They don’t jump through hoops just because someone says “jump.” And it doesn’t mean they can’t do it. It just means they won’t—because for them, the purpose and the motivation have to make sense.
Take Number 3. When he was in nursery school, his lovely teacher was gently concerned. He wasn’t showing much progress with letters and sounds, and he wasn’t blending CVC words like the others. But at home? A completely different story. He’d happily sit with me, reading his books, engaging with joy and curiosity.
I asked him once why he didn’t show his teacher what he could do.
His answer?
“Because I don’t need to.”
That was very him. Independent. Self-aware. Deeply connected to his own rhythm, but not necessarily to the structures or motivations others placed around him. He wasn’t driven by praise. He wasn’t fussed about stickers or rewards. He simply didn’t see a reason to perform when it wasn’t meaningful to him.
He knew he could do it—and for him, that was enough.
Fast forward many years, and I had a very similar conversation with Number 2, now deep in the A Level trenches. He told me one of his essays didn’t score very well. I was a little surprised, but before I could say much, he said:
“It’s fine. I write a really good first essay so they know I can do it, and then I just wait until it matters.”
I raised an eyebrow, of course. But he doubled down:
“Why waste effort now when I know I’ll be fine when it counts?”
It’s not lazy. It’s not careless. It’s logical. Just not necessarily teacher logic. But it makes sense for him.
And here’s the point: so many neurodivergent children approach learning differently. Their motivation often doesn’t align with external rewards or classroom structures. They may not be invested in proving what they can do just to tick a box. They might know their own capabilities deeply and simply not feel the need to demonstrate them for others.
This can look like disengagement. It can look like defiance. But often, it’s a quiet kind of self-assurance or a unique internal logic that doesn’t fit neatly into school systems.
So to the educators and parents reading this:
If a child “isn’t showing what they can do,” ask why—and believe them when they tell you.
Sometimes, it’s not about ability. It’s about trust, purpose, and being understood on their terms.
We need to remember that performance isn’t the only indicator of potential.
