Growing up in Thailand, my childhood was shaped by an extraordinary woman – my mum. Back then, my mum ran an after-school English class in our province of Ang Thong. Although a Thai language teacher by profession. Her after-school class became a haven where children learnt to unlock the world of English through reading. Children were taught to decipher the English reading system, understand various texts, and translate between the two languages. Unbeknownst to us then, her approach was a pioneering form of systematic synthetic phonics, a method now widely recognised for its effectiveness. As one of the ‘gifted’ English speakers in our community, I had the privilege of assisting her, witnessing firsthand the transformative power of her teaching.
Word of my mum’s little school spread rapidly. We weren’t primarily known for exam results, but for something far more profound: our students could actually read and write in English, our second language. This foundational skill acted as a key, unlocking academic success and opening doors to top universities and prestigious government scholarships for so many.
However, amongst the many success stories, there were a few children who left an indelible mark on my heart. These were the children often excluded from their mainstream classes, labelled as ‘difficult’ or ‘unteachable’. Teachers, often navigating large classes and perhaps lacking the necessary training, sometimes struggled to accommodate their unique needs. My mum welcomed them into her classroom, teaching them with the same care and dedication as every other child.
This personal experience highlighted a critical issue: the urgent need for truly inclusive education in Thailand. While the desire for all children to succeed is universal, the reality is that many students with diverse learning needs are not adequately supported within the current system. This can lead to feelings of isolation, disengagement, and ultimately, a failure to reach their full potential. Much research underscores the persistent challenges faced by educators in mainstream settings when it comes to effectively including all learners, emphasising the importance of early intervention and appropriate support.
My mum’s classroom was a model of inclusivity in action, even if she didn’t call it that. Every child had their preferred learning spot, a place of belonging. Upon arrival, they would find their work from the previous week in their tray. This simple routine fostered self-regulation, a crucial skill highlighted in UK research as vital for academic progress and future success. Children knew what to expect, where to go, and what to do, creating a sense of comfort and reducing anxiety.
Learning was carefully scaffolded and entirely self-paced, with a gentle nudge of encouragement. My mum understood that children learn at different speeds and in different ways. They were introduced to letters and sounds, given time to consolidate their understanding independently at their table before coming up to read with the teacher and check their understanding. For some, she would sit with them and model reading and transcribing those words and non-words into Thai line by line, gradually increasing the amount they read independently – a practical application of chunking, making learning manageable in small steps. We celebrated every small victory, fostering a sense of accomplishment and building their confidence. We also encouraged metacognition, prompting children to try themselves first and to recognise when they needed help. Children learnt to understand their own learning process.
Once they mastered the foundational phonics, they moved into an engaging story phase, reading passages linked by themes to build their vocabulary – a form of spiral curriculum, revisiting and expanding on prior knowledge. Children learnt to translate these sentences and passages into English. They learnt to use dictionaries and thesauruses. If they couldn’t find words in a smaller dictionary, they soon understood the need to move on to a bigger one. This brought a sense of achievement for many children, marking their ‘graduation’ to using more advanced resources. Some children even progressed from English-Thai dictionaries to English-English dictionaries. Through translating words, sentences, and passages into English, they simultaneously improved both their Thai and English skills. Through translation, they learnt to choose words, expanding on vocabulary, sentence structure and improving writing skills overall. These children were guided, initially line by line, then passage by passage, with some even translating small books. Bridging the gap between both Thai and English languages increased their linguistic skills and improved their vocabulary. Crucially, many children transformed from passive learners to active and engaged members of the class, empowered by their newfound ability to read and write in English – a skill that eluded many of their peers.
Looking back, I realise I was immersed in inclusive education without even knowing the term. My time helping at my mum’s after-school initiative was the catalyst for my lifelong passion for special and inclusive education. I witnessed firsthand the transformative impact of creating a learning environment where every child felt valued and supported. My mum, a Thai language teacher by profession, was also, in essence, a special educational needs teacher, intuitively understanding and responding to the diverse needs of her students.
As educators, we don’t get to choose who walks into our classrooms, but we have the power to create a welcoming space where every child can thrive. My mum started her school simply to help children in our province learn English. She inadvertently ended up giving a lifeline to those who had been marginalised, helping them rediscover their self-worth. The ability to read and write in English, a language that even some of their ‘typically developing’ peers struggled with, gave them a significant advantage and allowed them to reclaim their place in the classroom.
My mum’s dedication and the success of her students instilled in me a profound belief: we can teach every child if we understand how they learn best. And if they haven’t yet developed those learning skills, we can teach them that too. However, this requires teachers to be equipped with the right skills, knowledge, and resources.
Drawing upon this rich experience and my training as a special needs teacher in the UK, I am currently on a career break, but my passion for special educational needs and disabilities hasn’t stopped growing. I actively share my knowledge and expertise with Thai teachers, parents, and the wider world through my writing on SEND Bubbles and on Facebook. If you share our passion for ensuring every child has the opportunity to thrive and are interested in sponsoring and partnering with me to bring this initiative to fruition, please do not hesitate to reach out.