If the weeks before school starts feel like a countdown to chaos in your house, you're not imagining it.

For neurodivergent kids; autistic children, kids with ADHD, sensory differences, anxiety, or communication differences, and for children with significant trauma histories (including many kids in foster care, adopted children, refugees, or those who've experienced abuse, neglect, loss, or repeated disruption)  the return to school can be a lot.

Not because they dislike school. Not because they're being difficult. Not because they simply need to “get used to it.”

Think about what changes all at once: sleep schedules, morning routines, clothing, sensory environments, people, classrooms, social demands, and separation from caregivers. For some kids, that's exciting. For others, especially kids whose past experiences taught them that unpredictability can mean something bad is coming, it can trigger a real stress response.

The research across neurodivergence, childhood adversity, attachment, and trauma-informed care points to one consistent theme:

Here's what that looks like in practice.

For neurodivergent kids

• Start the routine before day one. Gradually shift bedtime, wake time, and breakfast toward the school schedule over a week or two. Prep clothes and backpacks the night before, don't make a tired brain hold the whole routine in its head.

  
  

• Visit the school ahead of time. Twenty quiet minutes walking the halls, meeting the teacher, and finding the bathroom can answer dozens of questions a child didn't know how to ask.

  
  

• Use visual supports. Checklists, schedules, and photos aren't crutches,  they make information accessible in a way a hallway reminder never will.

  
  

• Describe what will happen, not what might. Skip “You're going to love it!” Try “You'll arrive at school. We'll walk to your classroom. I'll pick you up after.” Predictable beats promising.

  
  

• Practice coping tools before they're needed. An upset kiddo or youth is not the moment to introduce a brand-new strategy. Practice asking for help, a break, or space when things are calm. My foster kiddo had a hand signal she’d use with her guidance teacher that said, “I’m going to burst if I don’t get space!” and she would be allowed to go hang out in the guidance room.

  
  

• Think through sensory load. Tags, lights, cafeteria noise, bells,  what looks like a “dysregulation” often starts as sensory overload. The question isn't what tools neurodivergent kids need in general; it's what this child needs. I couldn’t be in a classroom for more than 30 mins at university without needing to move, I started bringing sticky-tac to my classes…people asked if I was playing with gum… but I couldn’t focus with all the different student typing, or writing, even the lighting and the clinking sound from my chair when I rocked my legs threw me off…but the sticky tac… focused my movements and mind.

  
  

• Don't overload the first few weeks. School is already a major demand. Leave margin before adding sports, tutoring, or new activities.

  
  

• Loop in the teacher early and include the child. Ask them directly: What do you want your teacher to know about you? What makes school easier? Harder? I had meetings privately and jointly with the schools about our foster kiddos. Privately we discussed triggers, strengths and deficits that needed grace and support and environmental strategies, while together we identified who the ‘safe people’ are, how to access them, and what supports they wanted.

  
  

• Ask “what's making this hard?” instead of “how do I get compliance?” Behaviour is information. Get curious about what a child is communicating, avoiding, or struggling to access, then look at what you can change in the environment. One of my clients struggled with the amount of social ‘noise’ as he would call it. Just being around people was draining, so we gave him a little business card he kept in his pocket and when he started to feel a panic attack come on, he’d fidget in his pocket, on the card it said go to the bathroom and take deep breaths. All he needed to do was touch it and remember he could go have alone time in the bathroom stall. It worked for him and he did it during his first job as well.

  
  

When trauma is part of the picture

• Connection before expectations. A stressed brain has a much harder time reasoning or learning. Five quiet minutes together can matter more than any instruction.

o    I would go into the afterschool program or camp before my foster arrived and explain that they will need to spend some time each day playing with my kiddo individually, even for the first few minutes. It made a major difference in how the day went.

o    Predictability reduces perceived threat. Who's picking them up? What happens after school? Tell kids early and clearly, especially when plans change.

§  When I forgot to do this, it sometimes created panic. Once, one of my foster kiddos was so upset when my husband didn’t show up as expected. They started crying in the store, telling me in detail that my husband isn’t coming back to pick us up and that he’s left me for another woman. It wasn’t the reality, but it was her truth. He did come back btw, he just had an errand. 

o    Acknowledge feelings instead of erasing them. “This feels really hard today” lands very differently than “You'll be fine.”

§  One of clients wanted to go mini-golfing, when we took them they became aggressive towards staff stating it was the wrong place, refusing to leave the car. I got to their level, matched their facial expressions and said, “This sucks that it’s the wrong place. I see you’re disappointed! Makes sense. The place you wanted is closed, but we can check this out and then leave.” We stayed for 2 hrs!

o    Expect temporary regression. More clinginess, more reactivity, more accidents, it doesn't mean progress is gone. Ask “what does this child need right now?” instead of “how do I stop this?”

§  With out fosters, we didn’t plan mandatory events around the start of school time. Getting them out the door was hard enough, then trying to get them to go to a friends house or a community event was nearly impossible.

o    Create a “safe base.” A note in the lunchbox or a small object in the backpack is a tangible reminder: I'm still connected, even when we're apart.

§  I did this for my husband… even he loved it. When I was a child my mom would write me a letter to read before bed each night she was away…I kept them under my pillow.

o    Protect decompression time after school. Some kids hold it together all day and fall apart the moment they're home. That's not a discipline problem, it's exhaustion. Snack, water, quiet, no immediate interrogation about their day.

§  I had to save the “how was your day?” and  the “Tell me something more’s” till after they had food and some down-time. It felt harder for me than them sometimes!!

o    Build relationships before behaviour plans. Every child needs to know: who will notice if I'm not okay?

§  We role-played a lot with our fosters. We showed them who had a phone in the school they could go and call us when they needed. We turned remembering our phone numbers into a game.

§  We sometimes gave the fosters favourite snacks and games to the teachers to give them and/or play with them.

o    Separate behaviour from identity. “You're being difficult” becomes identity fast. “Your body looks like it's having a hard time” doesn't.

§  I still remember sometimes being labelled as a child with an ‘attitude’. Little did we know 15 yrs later I’d have a diagnosis of ADHD and a mild LD. I remember my “attitude” would always slip out when I was trying to remember something very important in the conversation and then zone everything else out. After my teacher or parents would say, ‘why aren’t you listening?’ I would plead that I was. They would test me, then what did I just say…blank… I would say I was listening or I would give a remark to distract them… Then I’d feel very upset that I let them down and I wasn’t smart enough to remember something that was really important to me and them. My husband and I have experienced this and he’s created safety in our dialogue. We can be knee-deep in a 45 minute conversation and I can completely blank and say, “Babe, I was in a mental rabbit-hole, where were we again!?”  Being able to do this knowing that it doesn’t change his view of me, is the most relaxing, supportive, breath-takingly amazing thing I’ve ever experienced. Because I haven’t forgotten the information, but the environment or a spark in my thought briefly took me down a different path… and I just needed a reminder what the path was we were on…then it all comes flashing back instantly.

o    Repair after hard moments. Nobody gets every moment right. What matters is showing kids that relationships survive hard moments.

What to be cautious about

Forcing eye contact. Removing sensory or communication tools as punishment. Pulling accommodations because a child “seems fine now.” Repeating “you'll be fine” over genuine distress. Expecting listening before calm. Using social stories to enforce masking rather than understanding.

 The bigger shift

Older approaches to back-to-school prep often focused on getting the child ready to fit the school. I think the better question is:

Success in September might not look like walking in confidently on day one. It might look like still crying at drop-off, needing headphones in the hallway, or needing an hour of quiet after school. That's not failure, that's a child learning, in small pieces:

My communication matters. My needs will be noticed. I don't have to hide who I am to belong here.

The goal was never just getting kids through the school doors. It's making sure school is ready for them once they're inside.

What's helped in your house or classroom during transitions like this? I'd love to hear what's worked.

*Alisha Hasan, MSc, BCBA, is CEO & Co-Founder of Carebü. She is a Board Certified Behavior Analyst with extensive experience supporting children with autism and developmental differences through family-centered, evidence-based care.