When a Teacher Truly Sees Your Child: PDA and IEP Lessons From a Parent and Therapist

It’s IEP season again, and so many parents are asking the same question:“How do I help my child’s teacher truly understand and support them?”

I often tell my kids (and my husband!) that I learn best by making mistakes. My hope in sharing this is that you can learn from where I’ve gone wrong (there are many!)—and from the moments that went beautifully right.

The Power of the Right Fit

Parenting a child with Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA) means navigating classrooms, teachers, and systems that don’t always fit easily. My kids have been through independent schools, public schools, and even some homeschooling during periods of burnout.

When we moved from a wonderfully supportive private school to our local public school, I was terrified. But that year, something incredible happened—my daughter’s teacher got her.

They saw past the surface behaviours and met her with empathy, flexibility, and understanding. They created a classroom environment built on universal accommodations—supports that benefit all students, not just the ones with identified needs.

For a parent, this is gold. The last thing our kids want is to stand out. They already feel different and work so hard to fit in. That year, her teacher would gently tap their fingernails on my daughter’s desk to help her refocus instead of calling her out.

What Works

Over time, I’ve seen more teachers embrace universal accommodations, and it truly warms my heart.

• Offering choices in how students demonstrate learning—written, verbal, creative projects.

• Allowing resubmissions for grades below a certain threshold.

• Building low-pressure motivation, like one teacher’s prize jar: answer a question, pull a slip, maybe win a calculator for a test or a pack of gum.

For my PDA kid, that kind of flexibility and novelty makes all the difference.

Advocating for What Matters

After years of IEP meetings and countless classroom experiences—some wonderful, some incredibly hard—I’ve learned that one of the most important things you can do is make sure the essential supports are clearly written into the plan. When a school year doesn’t go as hoped (and sometimes it doesn’t), those written supports become your foundation—what you can lean on and advocate for when things get difficult.

If you’re preparing for an IEP meeting or a conversation with your child’s teacher, here are a few places to start:

• Prioritizing emotional safety above everything else.

• Sensory-friendly spaces that anyone can access—normalize regulation for everyone.

• Choice and flexibility in language, directions, and work completion.

• Reframing “defiance.” It’s often a sign of shutdown or panic, not opposition.

• Explaining PDA through the lens of anxiety—it helps others understand.

• Develop quiet signals or code words between your child and their teacher—for example, your child might say, “I have a headache,” to communicate that they’re overwhelmed and need a break before things unravel. What I’ve learned, again and again, is that adults often don’t recognize when my kids are at their limit because they seem “fine.” But when they come home, everything unravels.

  • Include nonverbal signals as part of this plan. When your child becomes overwhelmed or loses words, a simple gesture, visual card, or even a hand signal can help them communicate without pressure. Collaboration with the teacher on these cues ensures everyone understands and can respond calmly and consistently.

• Prioritize connection before expectations. A trusting relationship between your child and their teacher is foundational. Sometimes it helps to start slow—allow your child to share only what feels comfortable at first. Encourage them to fill out an “About Me” page or share their special interests so the teacher can understand what brings them joy and comfort. Connection builds safety, and safety opens the door to learning.

  
  

Of course, I know I’m speaking from a parent’s perspective. Teachers are exhausted. They’re managing so many needs at once, often without enough support. Kids are struggling, parents are struggling, and everyone is doing their best in less-than-ideal circumstances.

But before anything else, kids need one thing first: safety in a relationship.

And for parents: trust your child’s instincts about adults. Every time I’ve pushed my kids to like or trust someone they didn’t feel safe with, it’s backfired. They lost trust not only in that person, but in themselves—and in me.

When kids can do well, they do. Our job is to help build the environments where they can do well.

Honouring your child’s experience—especially when they can’t put into words what’s wrong—is one of the most challenging and important parts of parenting. We were fortunate to have a year when my daughter truly felt seen and understood. Even now, we return to that memory—the sense of safety, the feeling of being recognized for her authentic self, the deep experience of acceptance. We hold tightly to that year, hoping it will guide and sustain us until the next time my daughter can feel that same level of understanding and connection.

Here’s to more of those years ahead—for our kids, their teachers, and for all of us learning alongside them.