Rethinking School – SEN, SEND and Those who are not quite SEN(D) enough

Week 9 - of our Rethinking School Series

Last week, we explored another major reason many families leave mainstream education: bullying. While this is a significant factor, it is not the only challenge that drives students out of the system.

This week, we turn our attention to home-educated students who have withdrawn from mainstream schooling due barriers to learning, namely disability, related challenges.

​Although often used interchangeably, “SEND” and “SEN” have distinct meanings. SEND refers broadly to all children with disabilities, whether or not they require special educational support—for example, a child who is deaf or blind but has average intelligence. SEN, by contrast, applies specifically to children with additional learning needs, which may or may not involve a disability. For instance, a child with dyslexia or ADHD may struggle with reading and writing but is not necessarily disabled.

SEN can affect many areas, including behaviour, literacy, concentration, comprehension, and physical skills. Importantly, not all children with SEN have a learning disability (Gov.uk, 2016). Educational provision focuses on four areas of need: communication and interaction; cognition and learning; social, emotional and mental health; and sensory and/or physical needs. However, slow progress or low attainment does not automatically indicate SEN. Too often, low-achieving students are given limited work, which restricts progress and reinforces the misconception that the problem lies with the child rather than with insufficient support.

A significant proportion of our homeschooling community consists of children who fall between the categories of SEN and SEND—what we might call “not quite SEN(D).” These learners consistently fail to meet academic benchmarks and are often placed in the so-called “low ability groups” at school. Unlike students who can scrape through exams with intensive support, or those with recognised SEN/D who are exempt from formal qualifications, this group often falls through the cracks. Many leave school without passing key GCSEs, particularly in Maths and English, which severely limits future employment opportunities.

Despite the scale of the issue, there is no clear national or school-level strategy to support these children. Parents are frequently reassured at school reports or parents’ evenings with vague terms such as “working towards” or “emerging skills,” while phrases like “underachieving” or “failing” are avoided. As a result, many families are unaware of how far behind their child is until GCSE mock exams expose unexpectedly low grades and predicted failures. At this stage, parents often scramble to find a tutor, but by the time learners arrive at Orchard Training, many are already working three to six years below age-related expectations—making last-minute exam intervention unrealistic.

Teachers regularly share how difficult it is to raise concerns with parents, who may respond with denial or by blaming the school, the teacher’s expertise, or the system itself. Parents often insist their child is “bright but doesn’t fit into school.” Sadly, by the time they accept that their child is not exceptionally gifted, not average, and not simply “different,” but in fact struggling with intellectual challenges, it is usually too late to change the GCSE outcomes.

There are numerous challenges surrounding this issue, many of which have already been touched upon in earlier discussions, but they warrant deeper consideration. A large proportion of these learners tend to be kinaesthetic by nature, meaning they learn best through movement, hands-on activity, and practical engagement, rather than extended periods of reading and writing. While it may be uncomfortable for politicians, educators, and parents to confront, an essential step is to acknowledge that some students do not possess the intellectual capacity to pass GCSEs under the current academic framework. Crucially, this is not a revelation to the students themselves. They are already acutely aware that they are not competing on equal footing with their peers. They recognise when they are being given differentiated tasks that are considerably below the level of others in the classroom. What they often do not fully realise, however, is the true extent of the gap between their ability and the expected standard.

As a result, many of these students disengage from education altogether, not because of laziness or lack of will, but because of their awareness of these challenges and their perception that the future offers them few realistic opportunities. Increasing numbers are leaving secondary school with the plan to enter post-14 vocational pathways at local colleges, hoping to gain practical skills that better match their strengths and learning styles. Yet here too, the system frequently fails them: they arrive without the necessary foundations in mathematics and English that are required to successfully complete these courses. This leaves them not only disheartened but also at risk of dropping out again, perpetuating a cycle of educational underachievement that significantly diminishes their prospects for stable employment and long-term security.

How are we doing it differently

We often receive learners in Years 8 and 9 who are waiting to reach the age for college admission. On assessment, we provide independent work, but unlike schools, we are transparent: rather than labelling their assignments as “Year 8 work,” we explain that their actual level may be closer to Year 4, 5, or 6. Schools advance whole cohorts by age but quietly give underachieving students much lower-level work, masking the true gap to protect self-esteem. Once that reality is uncovered, students face the daunting task of clawing their way up to where they believe they should be. They will never fully catch up with peers, but they can work independently at their real level and achieve functional qualifications in English and Maths, often good enough to complete an apprenticeship.

The difficulty is that the education system too often makes children feel not only incapable of learning but diminished in worth. In classrooms, the constant emphasis on “moving up a level” implies that nothing is ever good enough. This endless pursuit of the next stage fosters anxiety, depression, procrastination, and self-criticism, symptoms closely linked to school refusal and one reason why homeschooling numbers are rising.

One striking example is a young man we homeschooled, who believed he was unintelligent and rejected the national curriculum. He only engaged to spare his parents from fines. To spark his interest, we began with a subject he chose: Hokusai’s The Great Wave. From there, lessons expanded into art history, woodblock printing, the trade in pigments, Venice’s role as a trading hub, the plague, the Gutenberg Bible, and 16th-century politics. I often had to research one step ahead of him, but the knowledge pathway was entirely his creation. Yet, when we reached the Great Fire of London, he suddenly refused to continue. Years earlier, a teacher had called him “thick” during that very topic, and the insult stuck. In reality, he was deeply thoughtful, though slow to process ideas. Every topic came from his curiosity, but the system failed him—he was not “SEN(D) enough” for support, yet too far behind for GCSEs. Without English and Maths, his career prospects remain limited.

Stories like his illustrate the importance of recognising multiple intelligences. Not everyone excels at everything and some people sadly may not excel at quite a lot, for a number of reasons.

When we talk about school avoidance, we must confront what happens in schools to these “not quite SEN(D)” learners. Many homeschooled children are kinaesthetic learners who thrive with practical demonstrations, yet schools often deliver abstract, screen-based lessons with little hands-on engagement. Twelve GCSEs may be excessive for some students, who would benefit from a reduced timetable and a focus on essential skills in literacy and numeracy—competencies needed for future employment.

Our Key Stage 3 learners often express disappointment with their previous schooling. Science lessons lacked experiments, reduced to watching demonstrations on a screen. In history and geography, field trips were rare; most outings were reserved as rewards for perfect attendance. For many, education became a passive experience, stripped of the active, practical learning that could have kept them engaged.

This week, our blog “SEN, SEND, and Those Who Are Not Quite SEN Enough” explores the challenges faced by a group of home-educated students who struggle to access learning due to disability-related issues.

Next week, we will turn our attention to the experiences of learners with dyslexia—and how these can influence a family’s decision to rethink school.