Ange Anderson – Neurodivergent Support
As we move into March, I’ve found myself reflecting on the many conversations I’ve had recently with parents, practitioners and schools. A common thread continues to emerge — a growing awareness that children are not “failing to fit,” but are often responding to environments that do not yet fully understand them.
This month, I’ve been focusing on communication, regulation and the importance of looking beyond behaviour to understand what a child may be experiencing.
🌱 Supporting Communication – Looking Beyond Words
One of the most powerful reminders this month came from a parent who asked:
“If my child doesn’t speak, is there any point trying to communicate?”
It’s such an honest question — and one that many parents quietly hold.
My response remains the same:
👉 Never assume that a child who does not speak does not understand.
Children communicate long before they use words — through eye contact, movement, sound, expression and connection. When we tune into these signals, we begin to understand far more about their world.
I’ve recently shared a YouTube video exploring this further, particularly for children with complex needs. The message is simple but important:
we must meet the child where they are, not where we expect them to be.
🌿 Regulation, Environment and Everyday Practice
Another area I’ve been reflecting on is how often we focus on behaviour without first considering the environment.
Children are constantly responding to:
- sensory input
- emotional tone
- expectations around them
- levels of stimulation
When we begin to ask “What is the child experiencing?” rather than “How do we manage this behaviour?”, everything shifts.
This thinking continues to shape the development of the Sensory Hive and the resources that sit alongside it.
📘 Sensory Hive – Early Years Toolkit (Coming Soon)
I’m pleased to share that discussions are underway with the publishers to expand the reach of the Sensory Hive, alongside the development of an Early Years Toolkit.
As part of this, I have begun sharing selected documents with practitioners to trial in real settings.
The Safer Sleep and Supervision Checklist feels particularly important at this time. Following the recent tragic death of a child in a nursery setting, there is a clear need for documentation that supports both practice and accountability — not only to guide staff, but also to provide evidence for safeguarding and inspection purposes.
My aim is always to ensure that resources are practical, supportive and usable, rather than adding to workload.
🎬A Brief (and Surreal) Brush with The Apprentice ( part 2)
Finally, we were summoned into the room.
Two producers from The Apprentice stood waiting for us. Their presence alone raised the stakes. The atmosphere shifted immediately — this was no longer a casual experience. This was television.
Fifteen of us were asked to sit in a semi-circle. The rules were delivered quickly:
We would each pitch our business idea in 30 seconds.
There was no set order.
If we spoke for too long, we would be cut off with a sharp “NEXT.”
It was clear — this wasn’t just about ideas. It was about how we handled pressure.
Internally, the questions started racing:
- Do I go first or hold back?
- Do I listen to others and adapt?
- Do I jump in confidently or wait for the right moment?
- What if I hesitate and miss my chance altogether?
The silence was thick with hesitation.
After listening to a few pitches, I decided to act. I put my hand up and went for it.
I had practised this in the hotel with my sister. She had advised a slower, more measured delivery — and she was right. But in that moment, with just 30 seconds and the pressure of the room, I found myself speaking faster than I would have liked.
My idea was simple but important to me:
To provide after-school provision for adults and young people in the community, with complex needs, using underused special school facilities — something I had successfully developed in my own setting. I believed that with the backing of someone like Lord Sugar, this could be scaled in a way I had never been able to achieve alone.
I wasn’t cut off — but I knew I had rushed it.
As others presented, a pattern emerged. Some ideas felt familiar — almost too familiar. A pizza business, a beauty salon, expanding a corner shop… ideas reminiscent of previous winners.
One pitch stood out. A woman delivering a drama-based concept acted hers out fully, going well over time — yet she wasn’t stopped. Another introduced himself as a returning contestant, though I can’t recall much of his actual idea.
Once everyone had spoken, we were asked to wait while the producers stepped out.
Looking back, I’m not entirely convinced the pitches themselves were the focus. It felt more like they were assessing something else entirely:
👉 Who would make compelling television?
When they returned, we were still seated — each chair numbered.
They began calling out numbers… followed by names.
“Number 2…” — my number.
But it wasn’t my name.
It was number 3’s.
We looked at each other, confused. Had they made a mistake? Did it matter?
Number 3 didn’t hesitate.
“You’ve called the wrong number for my name — easy mistake. I’ll join your selected group.”
And with that, she confidently walked to the front.
It was a moment that said everything.
Soon, seven people stood at the front. They were asked to leave the room.
Then we were told:
“Thank you for coming. You may go home now.”
A different door opened, and we were ushered out towards a lift. For a brief, surreal moment, I realised I hadn’t even registered arriving via a lift in the first place.
As we gathered outside, trying to make sense of it, conversations began.
Three of the seven had been previous contestants. One man was convinced we had actually been the ones progressing — based on his experience the year before when the group that remained in the room went forward. It all felt strangely unclear, almost arbitrary.
The drama performer — who had been by far the most memorable — had not been selected. That, for me, confirmed it wasn’t really about the pitch.
Reflecting on it, those chosen seemed more:
- outspoken
- assertive
- quick to push forward
- comfortable taking up space
In contrast, the rest of us were… simply decent people.
And that left me wondering:
Was I meant to be louder?
More forceful?
More willing to interrupt or dominate?
Reality television often rewards boldness — sometimes at the expense of collaboration, humility, or reflection. We’ve all seen moments where candidates are encouraged (or edited) to appear confrontational, overconfident, dismissive of others, or driven more by ego than purpose.
That wasn’t something I wanted to become.
I hadn’t come to perform a character.
I had come with a genuine idea — one rooted in improving opportunities for individuals with complex needs, particularly those who have not received the lifelong learning opportunities supposedly prioritised by the government as far back as 1997.
As we stepped into the lift, some said they would try again next year.
I wished them well.
But I also quietly accepted something:
Perhaps success in that environment requires a different kind of presence — a “look at me” energy — that doesn’t sit naturally with everyone.
It was certainly an experience.
One I’m glad I had.
But not one I feel the need to repeat.
💛 Final Thoughts
This month has been a reminder that whether we are supporting children, developing resources, or stepping into unfamiliar situations, one thing remains constant:
👉 Authenticity matters.
Children, in particular, respond not to performance, but to genuine understanding.
And as always, my focus remains on supporting children, families and practitioners in ways that are meaningful, practical and grounded in real experience.
If you’d like to find out more about my work, training, or resources, please visit:
🌐 angeandersontherapeutic.co.uk and if you you are looking for support take a look at my Youtube channel : Ange Anderson’s Neurodivergent Support@angeandersonstherapeutics
