UDL: An Undeniably Delightful Learning Space

In recent years, I've been learning more about Universal Design for Learning. At the heart of UDL lies student engagement, flexibility, and choice. As I learn more about all the ways I can use the principles of UDL to strengthen my courses, I admit I also find myself indulging in a little daydream about my perfect classroom. Currently, I teach in the LA building. It's a little dingy and the fluorescent overhead lights might steal a little bit of my soul every day that I stand beneath them, but the rooms have desks with wheels, so that's cool. However, I dream of a classroom that is bright, welcoming and flexible: UDL IRL.

iStock: Varijanta

Let me paint a picture for you of my dream classroom. And, this is my dream, so I reserve the right to go nuts.

First, the room would be large, and not overly crowded with furniture. It may sound elementary (pun intended for a college blog...), but when my students enter the space, there would be space for them to store their massive backpacks that hinder movement around the space and that we (I) frequently trip over. Next to that storage area, I'd have a coffee, tea, and snacks to welcome students. I would encourage them to take a break from their cell phones and get cozy in the learning space.

Around the room, I dream of windows, so many windows, cut high into each wall to let in lots of natural light. Somehow, working in perfect harmony with all the windows, multiple screens would hang around the room allowing everyone to see the day's slides without squinting. Each wall would also be lined with whiteboards for gallery walks and standing group work. I'd make the room feel a little cozy with an area rug and some lo-fi music in the background.

In the learning space, I envision tables that roll so that I can divide them for small-group work, line them up when it's time for notes, push them into long rows for class discussions, or move them entirely out of the way for Socratic seminars. Again, since this is my dream, I am going to go nuts: I'd mix in some other seating options like beanbag chairs and stools, maybe even a few standing desk options along one side of the room. I'd have ChromeBooks in the room that we'd pull out only when polishing our final drafts—no stationary computers hiding everyone's faces and making it hard to connect with one another. This magical room would also never run out of whiteboard markers and the instructor's computer would never freeze or crash.

When class ends, I imagine a Free Little Library awaiting students just outside the door, and maybe a Pharmacy of Poems, offering art for whatever ails the student heart or mind.

My dream room would communicate to students that, not only are they welcome there, but that the space was made for them and their scholarship. It would be designed for our community, and it would be ready for whatever adventures in writing and thinking we could conjure up.

We don't have to wait to hear from DRS

If you drop by my house on any given day, it is equally likely that you'll be pinned to a chair while someone lovingly infodumps on you about their latest special interest (like Severance, or lasagna gardening) as it is likely that you'll have to watch one or more of us search wildly for some lost possession (car keys, a left shoe, that one top that will complete an emergency pirate costume). We are all what the internet affectionately calls neurospicy.  My daughter was diagnosed with ADHD around 4th grade, but didn’t experience the cheat code of medication until high school. My son was diagnosed with autism also around 4th grade. I clued in and got my own ADHD diagnosis in my 40s, and my husband’s spiciness is... “peer reviewed.”

Why am I sharing this? Well, this means that each of us, at one time or another, stumbled our way through the world of education without support for our neurodivergence. I know that each of us wondered what is wrong with me? and why can I just _______?! Here at GCC, our DRS team does so much behind the scenes to support our students, but the story I want to shine a light on is that of our students who, for one reason or another, are living with an undiagnosed neurodiversity. 

According to the American College Health Association (2024), around 3% of college students report that they have an autism diagnosis, around 15% of students report an ADHD diagnosis, around fewer than 3% of students report a learning disability. When those students bring documentation of their hidden disability to DRS, they are able to receive support to make their learning experience equitable with students who do not live with a disability. Sounds simple, right? Get a diagnosis, get support!

However, here's an un-fun fact: a typical diagnosis will cost a family between $1,500 and $3,000 dollars? Many of our students simply cannot pull together that kind of money to identify (or rule out!) a hidden disability. Another barrier that impacts whether a student may seek an official diagnosis is, simply, a lack of awareness about ADHD and Autism and how they can present differently from one person to another. Autism and ADHD also have very commonly run in families (eh hem, see my intro paragraph). It is common for a parent to see a child struggling in a similar way to how they struggled in school and assume that struggle is normal and fine. (“Oh, you can’t focus on math and your backpack looks like the inside of a trash compactor? Totally normal!”)   

We all have neurodiverse students in our classrooms who have not qualified for support through DRS. Without access to accommodations that create an equitable educational experience, many will earn poor grades and some may withdraw from their classes. Some undiagnosed learners wrestle with immense anxiety and depression causing them to disappear from our rosters. So what can we as classroom instructors do to meet the needs of all students, regardless of whether or not they have a formal diagnosis? 

Here are a few tips to consider:

1. In the first week of school, ask students two questions: First, what barriers do they foresee that might impact their ability to be successful in your class? (This question helps us understand a lot of things about a student—do they work? Do they work two jobs? Kids? Ailing family member? Unreliable transportation? No computer at home?) Next, what have instructors done in the past to support them? Here’s where you may see hints of undiagnosed neurodivergence. Students often say a clear agenda and fixed due dates helps them, or a grace period with a due date, one on one help helps them, the ability to handwrite their work or, alternatively, type their notes. The need for headphones in class.
2. Can you find spaces in your pedagogy to allow a little flexibility? I have a consistent but very generous late-work policy. I accept all late work for one week after the due date for 10% off. After that, the assignment closes, and I no longer offer points, but I do offer feedback if the student comes to see me during support hours.
3. Get to know each student as an individual  as much as possible.Getting to know each student’s life circumstances, their strengths and their struggles allows me to offer each student the support they need.
4. Share tips and tricks for focus (like the Pomodoro method, Lo-fi YouTube channels, Binaural Beats, focus apps, time boxing) and continually remind students of our campus resources including tutoring and basic needs support.
5. Finally, a reliable class structure helps all students. In my ENG 101 classes, assignments are always due on Tuesdays and Thursdays and writing assignments are due on Sundays. Each week, they have assignments that fall under the categories of “read”, “learn,” then “apply.” I give a clear agenda at the beginning of each class and end every class with a closure activity and the opportunity to ask questions out loud or on their ticket out the door. This consistent structure reduces anxiety for neurodiverse learners and traditional learners alike.

I view myself as a coach rather than a 'sage on the stage.' My job is not to get every student to perform at a certain level, but to unlock potential in each student and help each student grow as a scholar. This approach helps me do my best not to lose a student because of an undiagnosed disability. 

Simply put, we don’t have to wait for the email from DRS to help a student who is struggling.