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.
New idea added: 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.







