Student Fit Matters: Rethinking Classrooms and Choice

Most school systems still run on a quiet assumption: if we place a student in a classroom and try hard enough, belonging will happen.

April Jackson’s story from her Atlanta microschool pokes a hole in that belief. One student with ADHD thrives because movement, short lessons, and frequent breaks are baked into the day. Another student needs warmth and softness—more soothing than structure—and experiences the same teacher as “harsh.” Same room. Same adult. Opposite outcomes.

That tension matters far beyond one classroom. In the Education, Skills, and Workforce Development series, we talk a lot about skills gaps, workforce readiness, and training systems that match people to roles where they can actually succeed. K–12 schooling needs the same mindset: fit isn’t a luxury; it’s a design requirement. If we want better student outcomes and a healthier educator workforce, we have to stop pretending every classroom can be everything for everyone.

“Every child belongs” is a beautiful slogan—and a risky operating model

Answer first: The idea that every child belongs in every classroom sets schools up for predictable failure because it ignores real constraints: time, training, staffing, and the diversity of student needs.

The slogan is rooted in a good instinct—dignity, access, and inclusion. The problem is that it often gets implemented as a mandate without the resources to match. When that happens, “belonging” turns into a compliance word teachers are graded on, and students experience as a constant mismatch.

Here’s what I’ve seen work in practice (and what Jackson’s story illustrates): inclusion isn’t one location. It’s a set of supports.

• A student may “belong” in a general education classroom with occupational therapy supports and flexible seating.
• Another may belong in a smaller environment with predictable routines and a low sensory load.
• Another may belong in a setting where relationships are expressed through tenderness and calm—because that’s what unlocks learning for them.

If we treat belonging as a universal guarantee attached to a single room, we turn a complex problem into a moral one. That’s when teachers feel shame for being human, and families feel judged for advocating for something different.

Fit isn’t exclusion. It’s capacity, alignment, and honest design

Answer first: Schools should be more honest about what they’re built to do well, because clarity improves outcomes for students and reduces burnout for educators.

Jackson describes realizing that her school wasn’t built for every learner. She couldn’t teach science well, and hiring didn’t fix it. She wanted to serve students with exceptionalities but lacked training resources and certifications. She also ran into a hard truth that every educator eventually learns: school success depends on a triangle—student, school, and family—working together. If one corner collapses, progress stalls.

This is where people get jumpy. They hear “fit” and assume “screening” or “selective enrollment” driven by privilege.

But fit can be ethical and equity-centered when it follows two rules:

1. Transparency: The school clearly states what it offers, what it doesn’t, and what supports are available.
2. Responsible pathways: When a school can’t meet a need, it helps families transition to a setting that can.

A memorable line I use with leaders is this: A school without boundaries isn’t inclusive—it’s just overloaded.

That overload shows up everywhere: teacher turnover, chronic absenteeism, behavior escalations, and students who stop trying because the environment constantly misreads them.

What “school choice” gets right—and what it often gets wrong

Answer first: Choice can support belonging when it’s designed as a public good; it harms equity when it functions as a sorting mechanism.

Jackson reframes school choice as belonging, not privilege. I agree with the premise, and I’ll add a caution: choice without guardrails becomes a marketplace, not a system. Markets don’t guarantee access.

If policymakers and district leaders want choice to serve equity, the focus should be on portable supports, not just portable enrollment.

Guardrails that make choice pro-equity

• Transportation and scheduling support so families without flexible work hours can realistically participate.
• Clear service guarantees for students with disabilities (and enforcement when services aren’t delivered).
• Enrollment transparency that discourages “soft exclusion” (discouraging language, hidden requirements, or counseling families out).
• Data that measures belonging, not just test scores: attendance stability, discipline disparities, student self-report, and family satisfaction.

Choice can widen opportunity when it’s paired with accountable support. Without that pairing, the students who most need a better fit are often the least able to navigate it.

The educator workforce problem hiding inside the belonging debate

Answer first: The “every child, every classroom” expectation contributes directly to teacher burnout and accelerates workforce shortages.

Workforce development conversations usually start after a shortage becomes painful. In education, we’re already there.

When systems insist that every teacher must be able to serve every learner without specialized training, two things happen:

1. Teachers internalize mismatch as personal failure.
2. Schools avoid structural solutions (staffing models, specialist roles, training pipelines) because the rhetoric suggests grit should be enough.

That’s not how any other high-stakes profession works. In healthcare, we don’t expect one clinician to cover pediatrics, cardiology, trauma, and mental health in a single shift.

Education needs the equivalent of smart specialization—while keeping relationships and continuity.

What this means for teacher training and professional development

If we want classrooms that fit more learners, we need a workforce that’s trained for the reality in front of them. That means professional development that’s specific, coached, and tied to daily practice—not one-off workshops.

High-value training areas that directly improve student fit:

• Neurodiversity-informed instruction (ADHD, autism, executive functioning)
• Trauma-responsive classroom routines (predictability, de-escalation)
• Differentiated instruction that’s feasible at scale (templates, grouping strategies)
• Co-teaching models (general ed + special ed collaboration)
• Family partnership skills (clear expectations, conflict repair, shared plans)

Here’s the stance I’ll take: If a district is spending heavily on curriculum but underinvesting in job-embedded coaching, it’s budgeting backwards. People implement curriculum. People create belonging.

Practical ways schools can build “fit” without creating silos

Answer first: Schools can expand belonging by designing multiple pathways inside the same ecosystem—small groups, flexible schedules, specialized supports, and better matching.

“Not every child belongs in every classroom” doesn’t require abandoning public education or creating a thousand micro-schools. It can start with realistic, operational shifts inside districts.

1) Create a student fit profile (and actually use it)

A student fit profile isn’t a label. It’s a shared picture of what helps a learner succeed.

Include:

• Learning pace and stamina (10-minute bursts vs. sustained focus)
• Sensory needs (noise, lighting, movement)
• Relationship needs (high warmth, high structure, or both)
• Executive function supports (checklists, timers, chunking)
• Best assessment formats (oral, project-based, written)

Use it during transitions—new school year, new teacher, new program. It’s a low-cost way to reduce preventable mismatch.

2) Build scheduling flexibility into the master schedule

Many “behavior problems” are schedule problems.

Schools can:

• Add movement blocks (even 10 minutes twice a day)
• Offer shorter instructional cycles with quick resets
• Create quiet rooms for regulation, not punishment

This is especially relevant in December, when routines are disrupted and student dysregulation spikes. Fit-sensitive scheduling is a winter survival tool.

3) Treat placement as a service, not a verdict

Placement conversations should sound like support planning, not judgment.

A good placement process:

• Explains options in plain language
• Shares what each environment is built to do well
• Plans a 30–60 day review after placement changes
• Creates a return path if the fit improves or needs shift

4) Invest in “specialist-generalist” teams

Instead of expecting one teacher to do everything, build teams where:

• One role focuses on literacy interventions
• One on behavior/regulation supports
• One on project-based and applied learning

That’s workforce development inside the building. It also creates career pathways that keep great educators in the profession.

Digital learning tools can help—but only if they’re paired with training

Answer first: Digital learning transformation improves fit when it reduces teacher load and increases personalization; it fails when it adds complexity without support.

Adaptive practice tools, speech-to-text supports, and learning management systems can reduce friction for students who struggle with writing stamina or attention. But tech doesn’t fix mismatch by itself.

A practical rule: If you roll out a new tool, budget time for teachers to learn it in their actual context. That means coaching, model lessons, and planning support—not just vendor webinars.

Digital tools are most useful when they:

• Provide actionable data teachers can interpret quickly
• Support accessibility (read-aloud, translation, captioning)
• Allow multiple ways to show mastery (audio, video, projects)

When tech is used this way, it becomes part of an ecosystem that expands fit rather than forcing uniformity.

A better definition of equity: every student gets a real match

Equity conversations often get stuck between two extremes: total standardization (“same classroom for all”) or fragmented choice (“every family for itself”). There’s a smarter middle ground.

Equity is when every student has access to a learning environment that fits their needs—and the supports to get there.

Jackson’s story lands because it’s honest: she’s not claiming her microschool is perfect for everyone. She’s saying it’s excellent for certain students, and that pretending otherwise helps no one.

If you work in education leadership, HR, policy, edtech, or teacher preparation, this is a workforce development issue as much as an instructional one. The system has to create more varied environments and train educators to staff them well.

As districts plan for the next semester—and for hiring cycles that are getting harder every year—here’s a question worth sitting with: What would change if we measured school success by “students matched to fit” instead of “students forced to cope”?