10/03/2025
However YOU choose to call it . . . "Building Rapport" . . . "CultivatingRelationship" . . . "Developing Felt Safety in a Student" . . . This approach should be your #1 Priority when supporting Autistic students. Not academics . . . and certainly not sitting at a table with a worksheet.
But how to do this? Let me share a story !
"When I walked into the classroom, something was deeply off — I felt it in my bones.
Teresa’s small shoulders were hunched forward, her face red as she chewed on her sleeve. The air in the room felt charged. I stood in the doorway, taking in the picture, like a detective arriving at the scene of a crime: Whatever had happened? Whatever had I missed?
This took place years ago. As a newer occupational therapist, I wanted to help this Autistic student, this third grader, Teresa, who was placed in a self-contained classroom most of the day. She was smart, curious, and expressive in her lyrical singing voice.
But things went poorly that school year.
Classroom staff chased goals to “normalize” Teresa’s actions — getting her to sit longer, training her visual attention to focus on pages of text, coaxing her to answer any and all questions, regardless of her capacity to speak in the moment. They thought if they could get Teresa ready to learn — in the neurotypical way — everything would fall into place.
What I saw, day after day, was distress. Teresa would melt down, shut down, shrink into herself. I felt anguish. I suspected there had to be a better way.
And I carried it home. I thought about Teresa on Saturdays and Sundays. I lay awake at night, agonizing over what more I could do.
As I look back now, it becomes painfully clear: the staff — well-meaning but misguided — had bypassed the real work. They leapt to worksheets and compliance, skipping over the foundational steps of cultivating safety, trust, and rapport.
This is not a rare story. All too often, teachers and therapists rush to “academics” — worksheets, tasks, flashcards — without realizing, instead, that they should be focused on building safety, tending to our students’ nervous systems, co-regulating, joining the child in activities, and then, only then, guiding them toward academic goals in ways they can access.
Neuroception and Sensory Over-Responsivity: The Invisible Framework
Stephen Porges’s Polyvagal Theory introduces the concept of neuroception: a brain system that assesses cues of safety, danger, or life-threat—without our conscious awareness (Porges, 2022).
Porges wrote:
“Neuroception evaluates risk in the environment without awareness. Perception implies awareness and conscious detection. Neuroception is not a cognitive process; it is a neural process without a dependency on awareness” (Porges, 2004, p. 19).
Put simply, our bodies are always scanning the world for signs of threat or comfort, and adjust our physiology accordingly. When neuroception senses safety, we can relax, connect, explore, learn. When neuroception reads threat—even subliminally—we go into defense: fight/flight/freeze or shutdown.
For many Autistic individuals, the world presents more frequent and intense cues that feel dangerous — cues that neurotypical systems might disregard or habituate to. One domain where this is especially salient is sensory input.
A robust body of research attests that Autistic people often experience sensory over-responsivity, meaning that sounds, lights, textures, smells, or just the hum of a classroom may be registered as intense, overwhelming, or painful (Ben‑Sasson et al., 2013; Schoen et al., 2009).
For an Autistic child, a buzzing fluorescent light may feel like a siren. The scratch of a chair on tile may feel like sandpaper on skin.Because of neuroception, when the sensory and contextual environment feels unsafe, a child’s physiology may shift to defense. In that state, higher-order thinking (in other words, learning) becomes impossible.
A Three-Stage Framework: From Trust to Learning
Instead of starting with academics and using teaching modalities that may work well with non-Autistic students (but not with Autistic ones), try this tree-pronged approach instead, and build relationship with your student and an accompanying felt safety.
1. Cultivate safety and trust: calm presence, predictable rhythm, honoring the child’s communication style
2. Engage in shared, low-demand activities: sensory play, following the child’s lead
3. Transition to academics that respect neurotype: short, interest-based sessions, flexible response modes.
Most Professionals Skip the First Two Stages (and What That Costs)
By skipping safety and rapport, we inadvertently escalate threat.When an Autistic child’s neuroception is detecting risk, physiology is not in a state to learn. The result: noncompliance, shutdown, resistance, emotional meltdown—the very behaviors we try to “correct.”
In Teresa’s case, the entire school year was eaten by this mismatch: she was asked to “get ready to learn” in ways her body couldn’t access. The goals were less about her growth, more about changing her way of being in the world.
Invitation to Shift Our Lens
As teachers and therapists, we must treat safety, trust, and rapport not as optional preludes, but as the very conditions necessary for learning.
Let Teresa’s story—and the science of neuroception and sensory responsiveness — remind us that we cannot teach a child whose physiology is in defense.
Rather, we must step into their world first, align ourselves, and invite them into co-regulation."
Do you prioritize developing relationship and cultivating felt safety with your Autistic students?
Share your thoughts in the comments!
