The boy, a shirt, and the birth of the Feral Pedagogy.

A Professional Reflection on Neurodivergent-Affirming, Science-Based Practice

During my Dyslexia Specialist training at the University of Iowa, one course—Assessment—stood as the academic crucible of the program. It was rigorous, exacting, and designed to forge practitioners who could read a child’s data like a language of its own. Yet, amid the structured protocols and validity scores, I discovered something that no rubric could measure: humanity.

I was working with a student in his home, the environment where he felt safest. It was early September, still heavy with summer heat. He bounced across the couch, rolled on the floor, and occasionally turned upside down mid-sentence. None of it disrupted the process. In fact, it seemed to regulate him. Then, mid-assessment, he quietly removed his shirt.

From a procedural lens, the moment was unconventional. From a neurological lens, it was profoundly instructive. Once his sensory system was free of discomfort, his working memory improved, his frustration diminished, and his performance surged. What appeared to be noncompliance was, in truth, self-regulation.

Later, when I shared the story with my cohort, I was met with professional criticism and the assertion that I had failed to maintain appropriate control. That reprimand crystallized for me a truth that has guided my practice ever since: education often confuses compliance with cognition.

The traditional model asks learners—especially neurodivergent ones—to suppress their sensory and physical needs to appear ‘focused.’ Yet the science of cognitive load (CLT) tells us that unnecessary constraints on working memory and executive function reduce learning efficiency. When a child must devote mental energy to sitting still or masking sensory discomfort, less capacity remains for decoding, comprehension, and problem-solving.

At the same time, the science of reading (SOR) reminds us that structured literacy instruction must be explicit, systematic, and cumulative—but not sterile. True mastery occurs when instruction aligns with the learner’s neurological and emotional state. A dysregulated brain cannot engage in orthographic mapping or phonological processing; comfort and safety are prerequisites for cognition.

Play therapy and movement-based learning deepen this understanding. They show us that motion, rhythm, and interaction are not distractions—they are the architecture of learning. Movement supports hemispheric integration and midline crossing, essential for reading fluency. Play invites curiosity, lowers affective filters, and rewires learning from task into joy.

What I learned that day in the living room—what I continue to practice through Feral Pedagogy—is that learning cannot be domesticated. It is sensory, embodied, social, and alive.

Feral Pedagogy is a reclamation of that truth. It is grounded in research yet radically human:
- From the Science of Reading, it borrows explicit, structured instruction that respects how the brain learns to read.
- From Cognitive Load Theory, it borrows the insistence on reducing extraneous demands to protect working memory.
- From Play Therapy, it borrows the safety and self-expression that open neural pathways to learning.
- From Movement Science, it borrows rhythm, gross motor integration, and sensory regulation as literacy tools.
- From Neurodiversity, it borrows the belief that difference is not disorder—that learning is not broken, just varied.

Together, these threads form a pedagogy that is both scholarly and feral—rooted in evidence, but unafraid to color outside the lines.

Feral Pedagogy is what happens when we trust the learner’s body as much as we trust the research. It is teaching that invites motion, story, and humanity back into the room. It is the kind of learning that allows a dyslexic child, shirt off and soul at ease, to exhale—and learn as themselves finally.

Annotated Bibliography for the Feral Pedagogy Manifesto

Ehri, L. C. (2020). The science of learning to read words: A case for systematic phonics instruction. Reading Research Quarterly, 55(S1), S45–S60.

Ehri synthesizes decades of reading science to explain how readers form connections between graphemes and phonemes to achieve automatic word recognition.

Seidenberg, M. S. (2017). Language at the Speed of Sight: How We Read, Why So Many Can’t, and What Can Be Done About It—Basic Books.

Bridges neuroscience and education, emphasizing linguistic science as foundational to reading instruction.

Sweller, J., van Merriënboer, J. J. G., & Paas, F. (2019). Cognitive architecture and instructional design: 20 years later. Educational Psychology Review, 31, 261–292.

Explores how working memory limitations affect learning, advocating for the reduction of extraneous cognitive load.

Landreth, G. L. (2012). Play Therapy: The Art of the Relationship (3rd ed.). Routledge.

Anchors play as a child’s natural language and mechanism for emotional regulation and learning.

Ratey, J. J. (2008). Spark: The Revolutionary New Science of Exercise and the Brain. Little, Brown, and Company.

Reveals how physical activity enhances attention, mood, and neuroplasticity, supporting kinesthetic learning.

Armstrong, T. (2010). Neurodiversity: Discovering the Extraordinary Gifts of Autism, ADHD, Dyslexia, and Other Brain Differences. Da Capo Press.

Reframes neurodivergence as natural human variation rather than a deficit, aligning with the core of Feral Pedagogy.