School leaders often ask me a version of the same question: what system should we put in place to support our dyslexic learners? It’s the right instinct, and policies and structures matter. But my research suggests the honest answer is a little uncomfortable. The best dyslexia support isn’t mainly a product of systems. It’s a product of people, and of the relationships and culture that let them act well.
That finding comes from spending a long time watching it happen. In An exploration of teachers’ agency and social relationships within dyslexia-support provision (Ross, 2017), published in the British Journal of Special Education, I observed lessons and interviewed teachers in an English secondary school to understand what actually made support work. What I found has shaped how I advise schools ever since.
Support is enacted, not just implemented
You can write an excellent SEND policy and still have a school where dyslexic pupils feel unsupported. You can also have a school with modest paperwork where they thrive. The difference lies in what teachers do, moment to moment, and in whether they feel able to do it.
In my study, the teachers who supported dyslexic pupils well had come to see themselves, quite deliberately, as “teachers of dyslexic young people”. That self-understanding changed their behaviour. It reduced the social distance between them and their pupils, and it showed up in small, telling ways: framing tasks with inclusive language, talking about what “we” would work on together, keeping support discreet so a pupil’s difficulty wasn’t on display, and consistently treating dyslexia as something with no bearing on a pupil’s intelligence. None of that is in a policy document. All of it is where the real work lives.
Relationships carry more than we credit
There’s a reason relationships matter so much, and it comes from the other side of the desk. In my research with young people, “I’m Dyslexic but What Does That Even Mean?” (Ross, 2021), pupils were acutely aware of who knew about their dyslexia. They wanted to control disclosure, they didn’t want to be “outed”, and many didn’t feel able to challenge a teacher even when they had a support plan spelling out their needs.
That puts teachers in a position of real power. A trusting relationship means a pupil will tell you what they’re struggling with and let you help. A poor one means they’ll hide it, and hiding difficulty carries a cost to both learning and wellbeing. Relationships aren’t the soft, optional part of support. They’re the mechanism through which support actually reaches a child.
The catch: teachers need room to act
Here’s the part school leaders most need to hear. In the same study, teachers were often constrained by the structures around them. Despite the standing they hold as professionals, they frequently lacked the autonomy and the control over resources to do what they knew their pupils needed. Institutional assumptions about what dyslexic young people could and couldn’t do sometimes worked against them. The capacity to act well varied depending on where in the system a teacher was operating.
The implication is clear. If good support depends on teacher agency and relationships, then a leader’s job is to create the conditions for both. That means giving teachers genuine autonomy to adapt and to allocate support, backing an inclusive framing of dyslexia across the school, and removing the institutional obstacles that quietly stop good practice happening. Systems should enable teachers’ judgement, not replace it.
What this means for leaders and SENCos
Pulling it together, a few things follow for anyone trying to build a genuinely supportive school.
Invest in people, not only in processes. Teacher knowledge, confidence and relationships do more heavy lifting than any single policy, so fund the CPD and the specialist expertise that build them. (I’ve written separately about the wider training gap and the everyday classroom strategies that make the difference.)
Set the cultural tone from the top. When leaders consistently frame dyslexia as a difference rather than a deficit, and treat it as everyone’s business, teachers are freer to do the same. Culture gives individuals permission.
Give teachers room to exercise judgement. The people closest to the child usually know what’s needed. Structures should support their agency, not tie their hands.
Look after relationships as if they were provision, because they are. A pupil who trusts an adult will accept help. That trust is the thing everything else runs on.
This is the heart of how I work with schools, and it’s why I focus as much on culture and staff confidence as on systems. If you’d like help building that in your setting, that’s exactly what my work with schools and my research and consultancy are for.
Questions people often ask
Isn’t a strong SEND policy the main thing? A clear policy helps, but on its own it doesn’t guarantee good support. My research suggests what matters most is whether teachers have the knowledge, the relationships and the freedom to act well day to day. Systems should enable that, not substitute for it.
What’s the single biggest lever for a school leader? Culture and teacher agency. When leaders frame dyslexia as a difference rather than a deficit and give teachers genuine room to adapt and allocate support, good practice follows. Constraining teachers, however good the paperwork, tends to stop it.
Why do relationships matter so much? Because pupils control what they disclose. A young person who trusts a teacher will say what they’re finding hard and accept help; one who doesn’t will hide it, at a cost to their learning and wellbeing. Support only reaches a child through relationship.
How does a SENCo support this across a whole school? By building staff knowledge and confidence, championing an inclusive framing of dyslexia, and working to remove the institutional obstacles that stop teachers doing what they know their pupils need.
References and further reading
- Ross, H. (2017) An exploration of teachers’ agency and social relationships within dyslexia-support provision in an English secondary school, British Journal of Special Education, 44(2), 186-202. https://doi.org/10.1111/1467-8578.12174
- Ross, H. (2021) ‘I’m Dyslexic but What Does That Even Mean?’, Scandinavian Journal of Disability Research, 23(1), 284-294. https://doi.org/10.16993/sjdr.782
- Ross, H., Malone, E. and Wood, P. (2025) Teachers’ views on the implementation of adaptive literacy and well-being strategies: a case study, Education 3-13. https://doi.org/10.1080/03004279.2025.2566991
- Ross, H. (2019) A case study: developing a safe space for vulnerable young people at school, Support for Learning, 34(2), 162-178. https://doi.org/10.1111/1467-9604.12246
See the full list of publications.
