Two children
can sit through the same lesson and walk away with completely different
messages. The difference is not simply effort or ability. It is shaped by
neurodevelopment, prior experiences, sensory processing, and a sense of
psychological safety. Achievement is never just a response to instruction — it
is a response to the meaning the learner’s brain has assigned to that
instruction.
This shifts
the fundamental question of teaching. We must ask not only “What did I teach?”
but also “What did this learner experience?” That second question turns
inclusion from aspiration into everyday practice.
The Power of
Prior Experiences
Prior
experiences — whether earlier success or failure, relationships with teachers,
cultural messages, or the information a child has already absorbed — act as a
powerful filter. New information does not automatically overwrite what came
before. Learning is constructive. The brain builds on, or collides with,
existing models.
When a child
has been taught something inaccurately, the old mapping often remains dominant.
The new information may be distorted, ignored, or even experienced as
threatening. Disengagement follows. This is one reason a stubborn percentage of
students leave school with functional literacy difficulties that persist for
decades.
A Concrete
Example: Letter Sounds and Dyslexia
In more than
a decade of specialist teaching I have worked with over 80 dyslexic students.
All of them came from wealthy families, so socioeconomic disadvantage was not
the barrier. Yet almost all arrived with the same foundational problem: they
had been taught letter sounds with extraneous “uh” sounds — buh, cuh, tuh, and
so on.
These impure
sounds create lasting interference. Blending becomes distorted. The brain
stores an inaccurate link between letter and sound. Later, accurate teaching
collides with the earlier model and is often rejected.
When I
deliberately helped these students unlearn the incorrect versions and replace
them with pure, crisp phonemes (no added schwa), the change was dramatic.
Decoding improved. Confidence returned. Many went on to excel. Without that
unlearning step, the faulty foundation can contribute to students leaving
school as functional illiterates — a description Tom Cruise himself has used of
his own school years as a dyslexic student who struggled severely with reading.
Why This
Matters Beyond Any Single Classroom
If the same
teacher can produce such different outcomes depending on what each child already
carries, then uniform delivery of “correct” content is never enough. Diagnostic
teaching must surface the existing maps — factual, emotional, and relational —
and create the psychological safety and structured practice needed for
revision.
Socioeconomic
factors, attendance, overall instructional quality, co-occurring difficulties,
and the home literacy environment all interact with these priors. My own
students show that wealth alone does not protect a child from the consequences
of inaccurate early teaching. That is why, since 2010, I have made my lessons
freely available on this blog: so that parents without financial resources can
still access the precise, pure-sound instruction that has made the difference
for so many.
Prior learning is not only about academic content — it also includes the
emotional scripts children carry. A child who has repeatedly felt unsafe or
humiliated in learning contexts may reject even accurate instruction, because
the brain tags it with the same threat response. Fixing literacy therefore
requires not only correcting faulty sounds but also rebuilding trust in the
learning process.
From
Aspiration to Practice
Educational
environments are continuously communicating. Every seating arrangement, every
tone of voice, every modelled sound, and every piece of feedback is assigned
meaning by the learner’s brain. When we treat prior learning as data rather
than an inconvenience, and when we are willing to help students unlearn what is
blocking them, we turn inclusion into a daily reality.
The question
remains simple and powerful:
Not only
“What did I teach?”
But “What
did this learner experience — and what must now be revised?”
That is the
work. And it is work that every child deserves, regardless of the resources
available at home.