Never Seen: A New Blueprint for Strength-Based Inclusion in Jewish Education

Maayan Torah Day School, Portland, OR

March 5, 2025

Torah Leadership: Guiding a Group of Diverse Individuals

June 26, 2025

by Esti Schiffmiller

Across Jewish day schools and yeshivas, a quiet crisis is unfolding. It isn’t always visible or loud. It doesn’t make bold headlines. But it happens every day — in hallways, classrooms, lunchrooms, minyan rooms, therapy offices, and homes. It shows up in whispered staff meetings, in the frantic texts of overwhelmed parents, in the tearful shame in a student’s eyes when they’re sent out again, and in the endless vibrating of the phone after a call no parent wants to receive. It doesn’t scream “emergency”, but it is not rare. And it is time we called it what it is — a quiet crisis of visibility and design.

The crisis shows up in children who are bright, even gifted, yet unable to survive systems that were never built with them in mind. These are the kids who are wired differently: children diagnosed with high-functioning autism, ADHD, anxiety, sensory regulation challenges, selective mutism, oppositional defiant disorder (ODD), pathological demand avoidance (PDA), complex 2E (twice-exceptional) profiles, and other learning differences. Many are fluent readers, articulate speakers, and curious thinkers. But they are not thriving, and all too often, they are not even surviving. This is not a fringe issue. This is the new normal. When we speak of the “mainstream classroom”, we are all special educators now.

For context, we are not referring to a small subset. As of 2023, the CDC estimates that 1 in 36 children in the United States are diagnosed with autism. Approximately 1 in 10 children experience anxiety, and nearly 1 in 11 are diagnosed with ADHD. And while comprehensive data for Jewish schools is limited, many yeshivas and day schools report that 20-30% or more of students in mainstream classrooms have IEPs.

Never Seen: What happens to a child who isn’t properly supported?

Many assume the answer is simple: they simply don’t do well in school. But parents and principals know better. They see the invisible threads that others often miss. When support is missing, the unresolved emotional pain doesn’t disappear. It lingers and spills over. It turns inward or explodes outward. It becomes school refusal or shul refusal. It becomes detentions and diagnoses. It becomes anxiety, avoidance, depression, shutdown, shame, and behavioral collapse. And sometimes, it becomes a child who stops showing up completely — physically, emotionally, or spiritually… or worse.

What’s most painful is not just that these students are struggling, but that they are struggling silently, yet in plain sight. They often don’t qualify for the resource room or placement in a “special education” program because their IQ is too high. They don’t get pulled for social skills groups because they mask too well. They often don’t receive a crisis paraprofessional because their behavior isn’t “severe enough”. So, they fall through the cracks, not because they don’t need help, but because they don’t fit the profile of who we’re trained to see and support.

They drift from hallway to hallway, from classroom to crisis, from team meeting to therapist’s office, from one band-aid to the next, never quite fitting into any one neat box, and never quite belonging anywhere. With time, they internalize the painful truth that school, where they must mask and contort to survive, is not for them. They see that success is for the select few who easily make friends, sit still, write neatly, stay quiet, conform, and color safely inside the lines. They internalize the message that “belonging” is something they will never achieve. They find that they are “too much”, too “complicated”, too “different”, or worse, not enough.

It doesn’t have to be this way. With proper support, these students don’t just stabilize; they soar. And when they succeed, everyone around them succeeds too.

And what happens when a child is seen? They rise. They come alive. Because they finally hear: “We see you. You belong here. Exactly as you are.”

Beyond Accommodation: Reframing the Inclusion Imperative

Dr. Lydia Soffer, an educational psychologist renowned for her advocacy and work with Jewish schools, once posed a deceptively simple but transformative question: “Who is this child?” In a field often dominated by labels, checklists, and compliance-based interventions, this question offers us profound reframing. At the heart of the strength-based approach is this sacred inquiry.

Progress begins with curiosity. Who is this child? What lights them up? What overwhelms them? What environments help them feel safe, capable, and valued? When this question is asked sincerely and systematically, it leads to better individualized planning, more authentic relationships, and greater long-term resilience. It serves as a north star and guiding light during moments of tension or uncertainty. Every strategy, intervention, or support model must be rooted in this premise: We are not here to “fix” the child, but to support who they are and are becoming.

While our community is still debating whether inclusion is realistic, affordable, actionable, or even necessary, a quiet revolution has already begun beyond our walls. In public and private schools across the country, a paradigm shift is underway: one that centers the neurodiverse experience not as an afterthought, but as a core design principle. One that doesn’t ask, “How do we fix this child?” or “What do they need to survive?” but instead asks, “How do we redesign the system so that each child can thrive?”

We don’t need to reinvent the wheel in order to achieve positive outcomes. These models are successful, and they already exist here and now. But we do need to catch up. The real innovation isn’t in the programs, it’s in the paradigm: a new way of seeing students that starts with strength, not struggle.

If We Would See Them, What Would We Build?

We would build classrooms that prioritize emotional connection and regulation before instruction. Schedules that allow for flexibility, pacing, individualized learning opportunities, and autonomy. Curriculum that taps into curiosity, creativity, the sciences and arts, and strength-based, personalized pathways. Dedicated teams that collaborate across disciplines — rebbeim, teachers, therapists, parents — in real time. Cultures that celebrate and normalize difference, not just accommodate it. Language that reflects respect and dignity, not deficit and damage. Environments where teachers lead not just in classrooms, but during recess, lunch, and gym — modeling life skills, not just academic ones.

We would let evidence-based models lead the way. Programs like the ASD Nest Model in New York City public schools are transforming the inclusion landscape by using a strength-based inclusion model now in 60+ NYC public schools, serving over 1,700 autistic students alongside neurotypical students, with embedded co-teaching, sensory-informed supports, and integrated social-emotional learning.

Some Jewish students are benefiting from the ASD Nest Model in the public schools. One student who had shut down entirely in a yeshiva setting began thriving in a Nest classroom where his passion for science and technology became central to his learning. Another, who was often labeled “behavioral”, became a classroom leader when his strong personality and intelligence were finally seen as strengths, not liabilities. A third, who struggled to socialize, found his voice through comic books, social stories, and quiet, safe exploration. Instead of being treated as broken or waiting in the hallway for a para, these kids have found a home at school.

Independent and private schools like Lang, Summit, Whole Child Academy, and others have also begun to lead the way in what’s often called strengths-based inclusion, a model that honors both the gifts and gaps of 2E (twice-exceptional) learners, emphasizing project-based learning, autonomy, and strengths-first design. Strengths-based inclusion is a comprehensive, evolving approach rooted in multiple evidence-based frameworks that prioritize student agency, individualized learning, and embedded support. At its core, a strength-based approach shifts the focus from what students lack to what they bring, from remediation to recognition, and from reactive accommodation to proactive design. It reframes the role of the school not as a gatekeeper or crisis manager, but as an active partner in each child’s growth.

If we saw these children, we would adopt Universal Design for Learning (UDL), a flexible instructional model that offers multiple pathways for engagement, representation, and expression. And we would utilize frameworks such as PBS (Positive Behavior Support), PCIT (Parent-Child Interaction Therapy), and Trauma-Informed Practices. Each of these frameworks reframes “behavior” as communication, focusing on support, empathy, safety, and co-regulation instead of punishment. Together, these frameworks create an emotional ecosystem in which neurodivergent students are understood, supported, and empowered to thrive.

A Step-by-Step Guide to Strengths-Based Inclusion in Jewish Day Schools

Ideas and frameworks are nice to speak and dream about, but implementation is where it gets challenging. Many school leaders who believe in the value of and imperative for inclusion throw their hands up when faced with the daunting challenge of making this kind of structural and cultural change within their organization. What follows is a step-by-step guide to help school leaders make strengths-based inclusion a reality.

Strengths-based inclusion is made up of several concepts and frameworks, and while implementation will vary from school to school, an understanding of these ideas is integral. Some of these concepts include the ICT and ASD Nest models described below in step 2, Universal Design for Learning, described in step 4, and integrated social-emotional learning and regulation, described in step 5.

The crucial first step, though, is developing a better understanding of neurodiversity.

1. Understanding Neurodiversity: Leadership Buy-In and School-Wide Alignment

The first and most crucial step in implementing strengths-based inclusion is cultivating a deeper understanding of neurodiversity. Neurodiversity is not a euphemism or trend; it is a paradigm that recognizes neurological differences such as autism, ADHD, anxiety, and learning differences as natural variations of the human mind. These differences affect how students process information, regulate emotions, and interact with their environments, leading to both unique strengths and profound struggles. Without a foundational grasp of neurodiversity and how it manifests in the classroom, not just in diagnostic criteria, parents and educators may unintentionally reinforce stigma or default to behavior-based discipline rather than strength-based support. By embedding awareness of neurodiversity into staff development and schoolwide vision, Jewish day schools can begin to dismantle the invisible barriers that prevent many students from accessing meaningful inclusion. Ultimately, strengths-based inclusion begins not by changing the child, but by changing the lens through which we understand his or her potential. Knowledge and awareness aren’t just critical; they are foundational.

While research and frameworks provide some necessary knowledge and scaffolding, lived experience must always remain at the center. Panels featuring parents and neurodivergent self-advocates are among the most powerful tools we can use to humanize the idea and shift the mindset. We build empathy and understanding by moving the conversation from abstract to human, from pedagogical to personal, from theory to practice, and from statistics to stories. These narratives are what will make the shift possible, transforming from “We don’t do special ed here” to “We’re here, we listen, and we intentionally design for everyone.”

The paradigm shift begins with school culture, and our shared conversations play a pivotal role in shaping it. Terms such as “special needs” or “kids with issues” can be replaced with strengths-based language that reflects capacity, dignity, and complexity, because how we speak about our students reveals how we truly see them and build with them. With this shift, as we begin to see and speak differently, everything else becomes possible. Inclusion is no longer just an intellectual value we teach; chanoch l’naar al pi darko. We don’t just say it; we live it.

2. Co-Teaching (ICT), ASD Nest, and Embedded Support Models

Imagine a world where the support is already in place, and you don’t have to wait for a crisis call. That’s the promise of real inclusion. When inclusion is done right, everyone feels like they have an equal footing on the home turf. That is the secret power of Integrated Co-Teaching (ICT) and the ASD Nest Models, which don’t rely on pulling children out or reacting once they’re in crisis but on building support in from the beginning.

In an ICT or Nest classroom, two trained educators, a general education teacher and a special educator (or SEIT-style provider), co-teach and co-plan lessons and routines together. The classroom becomes proactive rather than reactive. Supports such as sensory strategies, executive functioning tools, and embedded social-emotional learning (SEL) are woven into the daily rhythm and available to all students.

Having two educators in the room means two sets of eyes, more flexibility, and real-time responsiveness. It allows teachers to scaffold instruction, co-regulate emotions, problem solve, and personalize learning as it happens. Academic learning and emotional growth happen side-by-side, not in silos. In fact, these classrooms function as both academic environments and therapeutic spaces, where safety, support, and dignity are built into the educational blueprint.

An ASD Nest classroom has a predictable structure with visual schedules and clear routines to help students feel secure. Social-emotional learning (SEL) is embedded into daily activities through methods like the Zones of Regulation and collaborative problem-solving. (See step 5) The classroom is designed with flexible seating and sensory tools, such as wiggle stools, quiet corners, and opportunities for movement breaks. Students have multiple ways to learn and demonstrate their understanding, not just pen-and-paper tasks. (Steps 3 and 4) This model extends to the lunchroom, the gym, and the playground at recess.

This isn’t just theory. These models are already being adapted in Jewish schools, too. At HAFTR and HALB, for example, some general education classrooms are already supported and co-taught by special education co-teachers and supported by guidance department staff or learning specialists. While these models may not be a full Nest replication, the foundation is there, and many students who would otherwise be “failing” are now flourishing. That steady growth has proven not only sustainable, but essential, not just for the students, but for the school community as a whole.

For those who say, “We don’t have the resources,” many schools already do. Many schools already have many of the right resources — paras, SLPs, SEITs, social workers — but lack integration. Schools can reframe SEITs as embedded co-educators rather than one-on-one aides, and view para support as a valuable co-teaching asset instead of just a reactive assignment. The key shift is mindset. Instead of adding an extra adult to “manage the difficult kids,” it’s about embedding the right support cohesively so all kids can learn successfully, together.

It may help to start with 1–2 “pilot” classrooms, such as those in Grades 2, 5, or 8. It’s crucial to provide co-teachers with dedicated shared planning time and appropriate training to ensure they are well-prepared. Collaborate with ASD Nest consultants or internal experts for professional development to enhance teacher skills. Establish a feedback loop to reflect on and chart progress and growth, while involving related service providers, such as speech-language pathologists, occupational therapists, social workers, and learning specialists, as integral team members. Lastly, actively seek feedback from teachers, parents, and students to assess efficacy and identify next steps for ongoing improvement.

3. Strength-Based Learning

Many neurodivergent students only struggle to learn when they are in systems that weren’t built for them. Centering their core passions, learning profiles, and natural strengths is the foundation of strengths-based, student-led learning. It’s the model used in 2E schools like Lang and the Whole Child Academy.

Jewish day schools can start by introducing passion project programs such as Genius Hour, especially in middle school. Younger students can benefit from “passion blocks” or interest-based learning centers, which allow them to explore their special talents, like science, engineering, music, or creative writing, through individual choice and play. Additionally, allowing alternate assessments, such as oral presentations, video essays, and artistic or STEM-based formats, will cater to diverse learning styles and should be offered routinely, not as a backup plan. Schools can develop strengths-based student profiles (see sample), which have been described as a cross between an IEP and a resume, co-created with the student to highlight their unique learning styles, primary motivators, personal goals, and even their spark.

“Yair”, the same child who might be overstimulated in the classroom, could spend hours creating multi-layered Lego architecture with built-in electricity, storylines, and voiceover. He wasn’t avoiding learning, but was begging for the kind of learning that actually lit him up. His Lego skills and animated movies weren’t a distraction; they were a blueprint for the talents he needed to expand and express: engineering, visual storytelling, spatial reasoning, and creative invention.

Another approach to consider is developing a parallel, strengths-based track for students with unique learning profiles. Yeshiva Darchei Torah’s visionary, inclusive high school vocational track was designed to support the strengths of unique learners and is a beacon to the broader yeshiva community. But why wait until high school? That kind of thoughtful, innovative, strengths-based programming could begin in early elementary school, so students can be seen and supported before they ever have to lose faith in themselves. Establishing a specialized strength-based track for students with unique interests, such as vocational training in STEM or the arts, will enable them to excel in areas where they can shine rather than simply treading water.

4. UDL and Flexible Curriculum Design

Universal Design for Learning (UDL) means that classroom learning is designed to work for everyone. It’s a research-based framework that empowers educators to design classrooms where all students can learn and thrive right from the start. UDL dismantles the false binary choice between “typical” and “special” learners. Rather than retrofitting accommodations after a child begins to struggle, UDL asks a powerful, proactive question: What would it look like if we all planned for difference from the beginning?

Using UDL, teachers can vary how lessons are taught by incorporating different modalities such as discussions or visual, auditory, and kinesthetic (hands-on) approaches. Students can also demonstrate their mastery of the material in a variety of ways. Even deeper, UDL honors different ways for children to participate in learning: one child may raise their hand, one may write an essay, another may create a model, a video, or lead a class demonstration. In addition to accommodating learners with special needs, everyone benefits from the multiple means of engagement, expression, and representation.

Schools looking to integrate UDL deeply may benefit from partnering with a consultant who can help guide teachers through lesson planning, classroom setup, and meaningful assessment design.

5. Integrated Social-Emotional Learning (SEL) and Regulation

Behavior is communication.

We tend to interpret meltdowns as defiance, disrespect, or even attention-seeking behavior, while ignoring these valuable, visible signals for what they truly are: a child communicating internal distress, dysregulation, or unmet needs. Dr. Ross Greene reminds us, “Kids do well when they can.” Trauma-informed, regulation-first classrooms assume that emotional safety is a prerequisite to learning, not a reward to be earned. Emotional presence, connection, and rooted support take precedence over compliance and performance.

Because of this, effective inclusion models must integrate SEL into the fabric of classroom life, not isolate it into separate interventions. Classrooms should begin each day with emotional check-ins, using tools like the Zones of Regulation or mood meters to help students identify and name their internal states. Creating calm corners or sensory breaks in every classroom helps students learn to manage their emotions and self-regulate without being excluded from the learning environment. Staff should be trained to use the language of Parent-Child Interaction Therapy (PCIT), which includes labeled praise, reflection, imitation, description, and joy to strengthen connection and co-regulation.

The goal of integrating SEL and regulation is to make the classroom a safe environment where students understand that their emotional needs take precedence over performance or academic expectations. When in doubt, always prioritize connection over correction. When emotional needs are met with unconditional support, not shame, and when connection comes before correction, students rise. Trust grows, self-regulation increases, and resilience deepens. The same students who once struggled to hold it together can shine when they are met by a human heart, not just a chart.

6. Collaborative Case Management and Parent Partnership

Inclusion efforts often falter not due to poor intentions but because of fragmented communication between educators, therapists, and families, which breeds inefficiency, frustration, and distrust. One of the defining features of successful models like ASD Nest and 2E schools is robust, wraparound collaboration.

Jewish day schools can replicate this by establishing monthly case management meetings or team “huddles”. Ideally, these should include the child’s general and Judaic studies teachers, SEIT or special educator, therapists, administrator, and parent. These meetings should be proactive and solution-oriented, not only convened in moments of crisis. Schools can assign a case manager or student support coordinator to oversee service implementation and follow up on interventions. The case manager can also serve as a liaison among team members and can help ensure accountability. In larger schools, multiple coordinators may be needed to maintain quality oversight and responsiveness.

Above all, parents and caregivers must be recognized as experts in their child’s lived experience.

Bringing in an outside inclusion specialist or consultant can help bridge systemic gaps between general and special education, facilitate effective and open dialogue, and guide professional development.

7. Normalize Difference, Build Belonging

No system will work unless it is grounded in respect, compassion, and dignity. Strength-based inclusion cannot live in “special programs” alone. It must live in our hallway conversations, on our smart boards and whiteboards, in our staff lounges and cafeterias, on our playgrounds, and in our parking lots. It should be evident in our gym classes and our recess routines, our libraries, and our assemblies and divrei Torah. It should be apparent in our shared language, and in who and what we choose to acknowledge.

Schools can teach all students about neurodiversity explicitly, through books, student panels, videos, and meaningful conversations. Kids can be taught to understand their own learning profiles, including how their brain works, what helps them thrive, and where they might struggle. For example, a child with ADHD can learn that their brain is wired for movement, curiosity, and fast thinking, and that tools like timers, checklists, fidget supports, or taking breaks aren’t signs of weakness, but strategies for long-term success. When students understand their own needs and strengths, they’re more likely to solve problems and advocate for themselves, whether that means asking for directions to be repeated, choosing a quiet space to work, or knowing when to take a movement break before frustration builds. This kind of self-advocacy can be taught.

Student leaders, especially neurodivergent ones, can be empowered to lead kindness campaigns, mentor peers, and model the values of inclusion from within. Peer mentorships are uniquely powerful: they normalize difference, promote authentic belonging, and provide both support and purpose. For older students with lived experience, these roles offer not just meaningful leadership and connection, but healing. Sometimes, the ones who can support the most are the ones who once struggled the most.

Most importantly, strength and difference should be celebrated publicly, not privately, and never with pity. As mentioned in Step One, we must pay close attention to how we speak to and about our students. Never call a child “weird”, “strange”, or “different” in a way that isolates or diminishes them. Never say a child has “issues”. Never use a diagnosis to denigrate and never label to marginalize or exclude.

8. Measure What Matters

If success is defined too narrowly, through grades, test scores, and compliance alone, we miss everything between the lines that truly matters. A strengths-based framework must include revised metrics that reflect the goals of inclusive education.

Schools should track qualitative and quantitative indicators such as growth in self-advocacy, emotional regulation, executive functioning, communication, socialization, and help-seeking behaviors. A decrease in behavioral incidents, shutdowns, or school refusal, coupled with an increase in positive engagement, attendance, and social inclusion, can signal growth and system alignment. Surveys or feedback tools can be enormously helpful in order to help gauge teacher and parent confidence in supporting diverse learners and to identify areas for ongoing professional development. Peer relationships and social dynamics should also be monitored; inclusion is as much about student-to-student connection as it is about adult intervention. Data should not only inform progress reports, but help schools continually evaluate their own structures, staffing models, and instructional approaches. By expanding the definition of success, schools can better align their practices with their values — and ensure that no student’s growth is rendered invisible simply because it does not conform to our traditional metrics of success.

9. Hire for Heart and Align Staff to Mission

Effective inclusion cannot rely solely on curriculum or policy. It lives and breathes first and foremost in the relationship between the student and the adult in the room. Hiring the right people is one of the most powerful levers for systemic growth and change.

Remember, the best teacher for a child with autism is the best teacher.

Jewish day schools must prioritize temperament, emotional intelligence, personality “fit”, and overall relational capacity when selecting educators, particularly those working in inclusive classrooms. While credentials and experience have value, they cannot substitute for the presence, patience, consistency, and creative, intuitive flexibility that many of our neurodivergent students require. Administrators should use interview protocols and references as well as “gut” checks to screen teachers. We should assess not simply instructional skill, but also openness to connection, collaboration, capacity for empathy, spontaneity, and willingness to grow.

Teachers should be supported through coaching and peer mentoring so that their strengths, like those of their students, are recognized, nurtured, and developed. When we invest in our teachers, we invest directly in our students. Aligning staff with the school’s inclusion mission and equipping them with both tools and trust leads not only to better outcomes for children but to a stronger, more unified school community where everyone can succeed.

Strength-Based Inclusion for Every Learner

While this blueprint focuses primarily on neurodivergent students with profiles like autism and ADHD, the applications of a strength-first approach extend far beyond. Strength-based inclusion isn’t just for students with autism or ADHD. It works elegantly across the full spectrum of learning differences: dyslexia, dysgraphia, auditory processing disorders, executive function delays, and more. Research by Dr. Lea Waters (The Strength Switch) shows that when children identify, use, and grow their signature strengths, they unlock confidence, motivation, and long-term resilience.

For all our students with learning disabilities, we just need to flip the lens. Instead of zooming in on what’s broken, such as decoding, handwriting, and math facts, we should amplify what’s brilliant: unique skill sets such as visual reasoning, humor, empathy, emotional intelligence, innovative problem-solving, sports, the creative arts, robotics, technology, or music. Strength isn’t the opposite of struggle; often, it’s the key to unlocking it.

Just ask my daughter, who used to freeze when asked to read aloud, but came alive the moment she became the star of the stage in Finding Nemo. Or my son, labeled “defiant” in the gym or in gemara, but a total rockstar at STARS camp, where his day was built around Lego architecture, Minecraft memes, slime physics, swimming, and AI creations, and no one made him dodge a ball (literally or metaphorically). The kid who “couldn’t focus”? Turns out, he had laser focus when we focused on what mattered to him and what made him shine.

In Fish in a Tree, a moving novel about a girl with dyslexia, the teacher doesn’t ask, “What’s wrong with you?” He begins, “Everyone is smart in different ways.” That one sentence shifts everything. When we build with strengths first, whether for autism, ADHD, or any learning disability, we don’t just help kids survive. We help them see themselves. We help them shine. Suddenly, they’re not broken; they’re brilliant. Not lost, but home.

The time for debate has passed. The models exist. The evidence is clear. The imperative is real. The urgency is growing. And our children are waitingLet us build a world where success for all is not a dream but an expectation. Let’s truly see our children and lead with strength, together.

Esti Schiffmiller is a parent advocate, community activist, Board of Education member at HAFTR, and founder of Families First: The Inclusion Revolution. A proud mother of four neurodivergent children, she has become a lifeline, a resource, and guiding voice for hundreds of families navigating the Jewish day school system. Esti was recently honored by Gesher for her trailblazing advocacy. Her work has been featured in outlets including JOWMA, Hamaspik, Yachad, and Yahalom. Her inspiring and groundbreaking speeches, “From Exclusion to Exodus” and “This Time, We See,” are igniting conversations and sparking grassroots change in classrooms, boardrooms, shuls, schools, and communities across the country.