Every year I see the same patterns playing out. Children with different behaviour respond in different ways to an intervention. Of course they do. Every child is unique and brings their own perceptual lens to the classroom as well as to the intervention. And yet, certain patterns once seen, cannot be unseen. Children with enough enthusiasm to motivate an entire school are selected for intervention and so are the children who are almost inaudible when they speak.There are those children who are challenged when asked to sit on a chair and wait for a moment, and those who need reassurance when asked to move from one activity to the next.

Why motivation explanations fall short

Sometimes there are labels on these children’s learning behaviour. Among those selected are students waiting for an assessment or to be seen by the specialist teacher in the school. When an intervention is inclusive and does not target a particular specific learning difficulty, schools rely on the professional judgment of their class teachers to create small groups of learners for rhythm-based support.

I have worked with many pupils with EHCPs in mainstream and special schools and am often asked whether this will ‘work’ with children identified with learning differences. My answer is always the same. When children tell me that they have dyslexia, ADHD or dyspraxia in session one and ask whether they should stay or leave, I tell them to stay and to let me know whether rhythm-based learning has helpful or unhelpful in three weeks time. On this anecdotal basis, I am happy to share that the responses have been one hundred per cent positive. Teachers have also commented that they have seen rapid progress in these particular students.

Are there steps to take to differentiate for these students? Yes of course and these are often managed through the seating plan, the pacing or the sequence of the activities in mainstream schools. In special schools, we have two ‘special’ learning trajectories which suit pupils with moderate and severe learning difficulties.

The affective or emotional aspect of learning sets out a terrain of its very own. We can imagine the steepness of a learning curve, or the cliff edge of failure - beyond which there might be no way back. Less dramatic is the constant abrasion that students experience (when despite their best efforts) they slip, stumble, start again, lose their confidence, rediscover it and then begin again, perhaps for the third time that day, and every day. They battle through the school terms each year and develop an extraordinary level of resilience.

And beneath the surface of struggle, there’s often a lot of potential waiting to be recognised This is not necessarily seen or acknowledged, perhaps because they are also working hard at ‘fitting-in’. At some point they admit defeat and submit to the nagging realization that they are not making progress and will always be ‘different’. It’s a moment of self-awareness. Seeking integrity rather than futility, they may search for a new way to ‘fit in’ or even ‘belong’, perhaps with a new peer group - one outside school that understands what they’ve been through.

Attention is not linear

When I ask the children selected for intervention about their attention, they describe it scattering or fading, either quickly or gradually. We also discuss their experience of following instructions, remembering what they’ve been asked to do and whether they understand their teacher’s questions.

It is very difficult to understand a question when the first half has faded before the second half has been uttered. Children with this challenge want to join in, to put their hands up and to answer questions as much as others do. But when their working memory and executive functions give way after two or three seconds, they are constantly chasing the shadows of sound.

What fragmented attention actually means

When amplitude is pronounced, attention is vibrant, but when amplitude is flat, attention fragments. In the winter we experience a flattening of our circadian rhythm in response to lower exposure to natural light during the day and increased reliance on artificial light during hours of darkness. This creates a greying out of the circadian rhythm because the beginning and end of the hours of natural light have lost their contrast and continuity and this is what flattens the amplitude of our circadian rhythm (light sensitive bodyclock). By contrast, the amplitude of our alertness peaks in the summer when our circadian rhythm mirrors the hours of daylight to a far greater extent and our reliance on artificial light is minimal.

Alertness reflects our vibrancy and vitality, driven by rising cortisol during the morning, which then fades as the light dims in the evening. Attention on the other hand is more nuanced. Different contexts, sounds, people can capture or rupture our attention and this is largely a socially-mediated response. If our name is called, our attention rises. The relevance and salience of the moment would create a steep peak in amplitude. Sitting at the front of the class, rather than at the back could also boost the amplitude of a child’s attention.

When attention fragments, learning feels harder no matter how much effort is applied. In classrooms, this can look like inconsistency: a child who seems fully engaged one moment and drifts the next. Recognising these fluctuations helps teachers see that what looks like inattention may actually be a timing issue, not a motivation one. When attention fades, scatters or fragments, this is almost always because they are ‘bracing’ against the ‘unexpected’ and a small change in the classroom would divert focus away from the task. When a child subconsciously prioritises a ‘bracing’ behaviour, their resources are not available for learning, despite their best efforts and intentions.

Why effort rises when the coherence of speech falls

The coherence of a signal is something we are all familiar with in our day-to-day communications. Conversations on mobile devices involving a weak or glitchy signal are usually abandoned or rescheduled. The experience is similar in a classroom. When the timing of syllables, words and phrases does not line up, meaning is lost.

Children with incomplete phonemic awareness must learn to compensate for the gaps in sound perception. They watch faces, absorb gestures and guess the rest based on contextual cues. This is reflected in classical studies of auditory streaming referred to as the ‘cocktail party’ effect: auditory attention splits into different perceptual streams. Incomplete streams of sound are abandoned, whereas when a person catches their name mentioned across the room, they can hear this more clearly than any other sound.

How the brain uses timing to predict what's coming next

Anticipation, also known as expectancy is the key to building an amplitude that is well-defined and will sustain attention across the meaning of an utterance. Imagine for a moment, a child who is fascinated by the ancient Egyptians, They will hang on a teacher’s every word in a history lesson, anticipating the special moment when they glean a new insight, whereas a child who is new to the topic must absorb what they can before becoming saturated.

Anticipation remains intact for the ‘expert’ child. Their attention is well-resourced by the pronounced amplitude of their ‘engaged / expectant attitude’. Even though the ‘novice’ child is ‘engaged’ in principle, the steep rise in cognitive load has the potential to overwhelm those students with lower levels of personal interest in a topic.

Children who are ‘bracing’ for the unexpected are likely to react to small distractions all day long and not only does this interfere with learning, but it is also habitual. As this behaviour is not even a conscious choice, they are not in a position to choose to change it, no matter how hard they might try. ‘Bracing’ is maladaptive for learning in school, but in a different context (that might involve many curved balls) they might lead the way for others to follow.

These children are working within a different perceptual terrain. They may be primed to anticipate sounds that do not belong in the classroom or perhaps they do not anticipate any sound at all. A child who arrives at school with the belief that 'talking is only for adults', may struggle not only with speech but also the back and forth timing of conversational turns. This flatness (in terms of amplitude) of expectancy and anticipation would likely ripple out across all areas of social development.

What schools rarely examine: the rhythm of communication and learning

So, as education becomes increasingly inclusive, teachers are required to differentiate to a larger extent. Every child’s needs are unique and range from visible sensory differences and physical disabilities, to invisible perceptual and cognitive differences. The dimension of time is rarely mentioned in books about reading and learning, even though rhythm and meter are fundamental to the structure of every utterance. And yet, whilst bypassing the potential to address rhythm in learning, extra time as an access arrangement is a convenient way to appear to meet students’ needs. But, if students are not oriented within the lesson, the text, or even the conversation, having more time will not really help them.

When timing is off, cognitive load rises.

Imagine for a moment that you are able to hold no more than three syllables in your mind at any given moment. Everything that is said around you fades before you have consolidated it into a unit of meaning. Now imagine the information was transcribed for you. With so much to read, this would be overwhelming and unsustainable, leading to overload and burnout and here’s why this looks quite like disengagement.

It is unsurprising that students affected by limited capacity in working memory feel that they do not fit in, that school is not for them and become disaffected. This is not a reflection of their intelligence. In fact, where there is a marked discrepancy between a high intelligence quotient and a relatively low working memory capacity, the risk of disaffection can be far greater because frustration levels become problematic earlier on in childhood.

Fluency depends on anticipation more than speed

When I have shared audio clips from my PhD research with head teachers and they have heard the changes in children’s reading (multiple years of progress in reading age) for themselves, they have often noticed their own change in response to that child. The remark that stays with me, is this,

That is now a child with potential.

The question that follows: Had this child always had this potential, or had the enrichment (intervention) they received at school ‘unleashed’ new ‘potential’? For me, the children targeted for intervention by their class teachers had always had the potential within, but had required access to this specific form of enrichment.

Recognising time as a hidden dimension of learning

In everything that we do, from kicking a ball against a wall to listening to the waves on the beach, the dimension of time plays a role in how we relate to our environment. In classrooms, teachers know the children who can follow the lesson and those needing help with processing what is going on around them. We know that neuroplasticity reshapes our responses to the environment. From 'Is it time for lunch yet?' To, 'I can’t wait to turn the page', we are always anticipating what is coming up next.

So, moments like these remind us that potential is not created, but revealed. When we shift our perspective from managing behaviour to understanding timing, we begin to see learning through a new lens - one that observes how each child anticipates, processes and responds.

When we recognize timing as a hidden dimension of learning, we are better able to discern between issues that overlap, particularly those concerning behaviour and access.