Last night, I got a powerful reminder about why it’s so important to support students with sensory needs.
At 53 years old, I consider myself fairly adaptable. But an outing with two of my oldest, closest friends left me completely overwhelmed, and gave me a fresh perspective on what many students experience daily.
When I got invited to see a popular 70s cover band with my ‘summer sisters’ I didn’t hesitate. We hadn’t seen each other in a year, so I bought my ticket as soon as I learned they were going. Arriving early, the crowd was small, and the band hadn’t begun. The venue was off of a restaurant in a great big, white tent similar to what you’d see at an outdoor wedding. There were small groups of people mingling, standing tables scattered throughout, and a bar with no line. My girlfriends and I were excited to see each other, and we laughed as people entered wearing wigs and costumes.
Soon, though, the crowd began to grow, and before long, I felt trapped in a sea of people wearing purple afros, De-lite platform boots, and Elvis costumes. When the band began to play “Get Down Tonight,” the thump of the music caused everyone’s feet to move. For a moment, it was fun!
Until it wasn’t.
Within minutes, the volume was overwhelming, the chaos of the growing crows, the flashing lights, and the costumes were all too much. I needed to escape.
Att first I asked my friends if they wanted to go, and they looked at me puzzled. So I said, “I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.” But they didn’t want to leave, and I didn’t blame them. The party had just begun, and I felt like I was being a stick in the mud.
“It’s OK,” I said. “I’m going to run and get something to eat. I’ll be back.”
Except I wasn’t.
I wandered around to the front of the venue, and found a place to sit. I called my closest teacher friend because I knew she’d understand what I was going through. “Get out of there, lady,” she advised. And with that, I was gone.
The feeling of overstimulation had hit me so hard, that I was having trouble making a decision that I knew was right. I felt outside my own body, and confused by my emotions. This morning I woke up thinking about all of the kids in our classrooms who live with this kind of sensory overload every day. Compassion drove me to write.
What Sensory Overload Feels Like
When I had to step away from the crowd, I wasn’t being dramatic. I was simply trying to regulate. For me, it meant getting to a quiet spot and taking a few deep breaths. I was lucky mohave Lyndsey on speed dial to reinforce that I was making a solid decision.
But imagine being five, six, or seven years old and trying to do the same; without the words, tools, or permission to leave when your body is screaming “too much!”
This is exactly why creating a sensory-friendly classroom environment is so important.
How We Can Support Students with Sensory Needs
Students with sensory sensitivities may be overwhelmed by:
- Loud noises (like fire drills, cafeteria chatter, or music class)
- Bright lights or visual clutter
- Crowded spaces or unexpected touch
- Strong smells or itchy clothing
What helps? Here are some simple, powerful supports:
- Quiet areas or calm-down corners
- Noise-reducing headphones
- Fidgets or sensory tools to help with focus
- Visual schedules and clear expectations
- Breaks to move, stretch, or breathe
- A teacher who says, “It’s okay. Take your time.”
A Reminder for All of Us
Sometimes the best way to understand our students is to notice what happens in our own lives. Last night’s experience reminded me how real sensory overload is, and how necessary it is to create supportive spaces for all learners.
Even if a student doesn’t have a formal diagnosis, they may still struggle with sensory processing. When we build flexibility into our classrooms, we build trust, safety, and room to thrive.
Ms. Martha