Singapore schools for children with special needs

“Even then, a lot of resources have to be allocated to these pupils so that they can learn, be managed and do not disrupt the lesson,” the teacher said, adding that each child is also assigned to an SEN officer. 

The pool of such officers – who work with teachers to provide support to SEN students in mainstream schools – has risen from 450 in 2017 to 820 now, said MOE. 

All primary schools have at least two SEN officers, while secondary schools have at least one, and more officers are deployed to schools with “higher and more complex needs”. 

MOE added that all mainstream educators have a “baseline understanding of inclusive classroom practices”, with five to 10 teachers trained in special needs in each school.

But teaching and managing a group of pupils with widely varying needs is not easy, let alone conducting lessons for them, said the primary school teacher. 

“Learning common strategies to cater to SEN pupils does not solve all problems. Because five kids with ADHD all behave differently,” she said.

Some students struggle to sit still and will run around the classroom and disrupt lessons, while others have violent tendencies that stem from severe anger management issues and being unable to regulate their emotions. 

Teachers have been bitten or punched, or have had books thrown at them by pupils experiencing behavioural outbursts, the teacher said. 

She recalls one incident that occurred while she was heavily pregnant, when she dodged a chair and table hurled at her by a pupil with ADHD.

Her colleagues have also suffered hand injuries when pupils sink their nails into them while acting out.

For some families, strong school support has made inclusion in mainstream education possible.

A 36-year-old mother who wanted to be known as Ms Melissa said her son, who has mild autism and ADHD, felt supported by a proactive SEN officer and teacher before he even started Primary 1 in a mainstream school.

To ease his anxiety, the teacher provided Ms Melissa with pictures of her son’s teachers so she could build a Powerpoint deck for him. During his first few days, a SEN officer accompanied him around the school, paired him with a buddy and arranged extra lessons where needed.

Another SEN officer helped her son, now 10, overcome his trauma of eating in school by accompanying him during mealtimes.

Ms Lim Kah Suan, 40, whose seven-year-old son has multiple disabilities, including cerebral palsy and ADHD, said: “It takes a village, and in his case, this village is working for (my son).”

Her son’s school made accommodations, from reducing his spelling workload to assigning buddies to help with mobility and printing his school diary in a larger font. 

Ms Lim, a scientist, said the school’s SEN officer also arranged external therapy support to help her son learn life skills such as using the toilet safely and buying food independently. In another instance, the school’s year head personally helped search for her son’s lost lunch box. 

“This school really went out of their way to help my son integrate,” Ms Lim said. “I’m glad he went to this school that supports both his learning and emotional needs.”

Other parents described a more distant relationship with school support staff.

Ms Ava Gao, 38, who works in organisational development and coaching, said her eight-year-old son initially received strong support from an SEN officer when he entered Primary 1. The officer helped him cope with situations such as school lockdown drills.

But since the officer left, there has not been any replacement, she said.

Ms Gao also recalled a Chinese teacher advising her not to tell her son about his diagnosis yet, out of concern he might “use it as an excuse to get what he wants”.

On another occasion, her son froze when pressed by a teacher to explain why he was fidgety and could not concentrate on his work. Ms Gao said he needed to make some movement to regulate himself before being able to focus.

“I feel like sometimes they are just trying to get the student to do something without understanding what is contributing to their behaviour, so I try to share some tips,” she said. “But of course the class has more than 30 kids.” 

“I just hope for more understanding and awareness of neurodivergence, and more training for all mainstream school teachers on how to better support neurodivergent children,” she added.

Paediatricians Ooi Pei Ling, 42, and Kao Pao-Tang, 57, transferred their son from a SPED school to a mainstream primary school in Primary 4 after teachers felt that he was academically under-challenged. 

Their son has mild autism and ADHD. A year and half on, Dr Ooi said they have never met the school’s SEN officer.

“About once a year, we get an e-mail from the SEN officer,” she said. “When there are meltdowns, the main people communicating with me will be the teacher, not the special needs officer.”

Dr Kao said mainstream schools lack the flexibility his son previously received at the SPED school, which had a teacher-to-student ratio of 1:10 and even a tent in his classroom where pupils could decompress when overwhelmed.

While exams are not a challenge, daily classroom interactions like answering questions from his teacher are more taxing for his son.

“We used to be more focused on allowing him to maximise his capabilities, but now we are retreating to the point that as long as he’s not sad (in school), we are satisfied,” said Dr Kao.

For Mr Kevinder Singh, 44, and his wife Shohiniy Kaur, a 37-year-old homemaker, it was an emotional journey coming to terms with their son’s diagnosis.

They had noticed early on that their son Mikhel, now 11, struggled academically, but thought he just needed more time to mature, much like how Mr Singh was a “late bloomer” growing up.

It was only in Primary 4, after the school called the couple for a meeting, that they decided to seek an assessment. Mikhel was diagnosed with mild intellectual disability.

Mr Singh, a senior manager in the aviation industry, said they struggled with moving Mikhel to a SPED school.

“We started thinking about what would be the right choice for him and questioned if he would be seen differently by society,” he said. “It was a difficult reality for us to accept.”

Still, the couple prioritised what they felt Mikhel needed most.

“We told ourselves that it was more important for our child to receive the support he truly needed rather than forcing him into a path we as parents wanted,” he said, adding that Mikhel’s mainstream school did not pressure them into making the move, but instead gave them the space and choice to decide.

“When we got the news about our kids, it was so challenging,” Mr Singh said. Their eight-year-old daughter also has autism and is in a SPED school.

But securing a place in a SPED school is not as straightforward, said parents. To be considered for admission to a SPED school, a professional assessment, school report and psychological report, among other documents, are needed.

Some said that waiting times for official diagnoses can stretch beyond six months, from getting a polyclinic referral to receiving a formal assessment. Thus, some parents opt for the costlier but faster private route. 

Even then, a diagnosis does not guarantee a place in SPED schools, where vacancies are limited.

At Pathlight, Marcus now thrives.

He is active in school and in the robotics co-curricular activity – opportunities his mother thinks would have eluded him in a mainstream setting. He also attends lessons at a nearby mainstream school, Mayflower Secondary School, as part of Pathlight’s school partnership programme, and interacts with other children.

After the PSLE, Ms Lee considered moving him back into the mainstream system. But Marcus chose to stay in Pathlight, drawn by its smaller classes and attentive teachers.

After years of coming home from his mainstream primary school feeling discouraged, Mikhel enjoys going to APSN Chaoyang School daily.

He is now a student leader and has won multiple awards, including one for good progress.

Mr Singh said: “One of the biggest lessons we learnt is that every child’s journey is different and success should not be measured academically… What’s more important is finding the best fit for your child.”