‘Never Alone’ — But Are We Listening?
As both a parent-carer and a specialist teacher, I see every day how small details can make a big difference for neurodivergent children and their families. This week’s ‘Hello Yellow’ reminder prompted some reflection — not about colours or clothing, but about how schools translate good intentions into genuine understanding.
Yesterday, parents at my son’s specialist SEN school were reminded — less than 24 hours in advance — that pupils were invited to wear something yellow for World Mental Health Day as part of the ‘Hello Yellow’ campaign.
For many families, that might seem a small request. But for parents of children with additional needs, it highlights how easily the mental load of SEN families is overlooked — the constant, invisible work of anticipating, adapting and advocating so our children can manage their day successfully.
In our house, that short notice translated into distress. My son was awake from six, upset that he didn’t own anything yellow and worried he would get into trouble. It struck me as deeply ironic that a day intended to promote mental health had already created anxiety for the very children it sought to support.
Symbolism versus substance
It also made me wonder: beyond wearing yellow, what actually happens on days like this?
How are schools helping students — particularly those who interpret language literally or struggle with abstract symbolism — to understand what ‘mental health’ means?
Are there workshops, discussions or sensory activities that make the idea tangible and supportive? Or is this another instance of well-intentioned symbolism that ends up feeling tokenistic?
I am sure that the staff working with pupils with significant cognitive difficulties will do their utmost to support them with care and sensitivity — as they do every day. But have they been given the time, guidance and resources to explain the purpose of the day meaningfully? And how does such a last-minute directive affect their wellbeing? It is hard to model emotional stability while carrying extra pressure yourself.
The wider context
For many families, contact with services such as CAMHS has been slow, frustrating or fruitless. In that reality, schools often become the most consistent source of emotional support our children experience. So when we tell pupils that no one should ‘feel alone with their mental health’, we need to ask:
What are we hoping they will actually understand by the end of the day?
What will change for them because of it?
How will we know that they truly feel more supported and less alone?
Awareness days can be powerful when they are inclusive, explicit and thoughtfully planned. But when a campaign designed to reduce anxiety ends up creating it — for students, families and staff alike — it’s time to pause and rethink what genuine awareness and support really look like in specialist settings.
Looking forward
True inclusion isn’t a colour theme or a slogan. It’s built quietly, through understanding, preparation and care — every single day.
