Andrew Jones

Heavy words: Do labels limit dyslexic learners?

Originally written for SecEd Magazine and published on 5 May 2026.

I remember several situations at school where I was made to feel like a complete idiot. One was during a primary school cooking class. My friend’s mum, who had come in to run the session, told me I could draw pictures instead of writing out the pizza-making process we had just completed – because I “struggle with writing”.

Another memory is of the giggles from other pupils as the minibus arrived to take us to a local literacy support centre. It was called the Independent Learning Centre, abbreviated to “ILC” on the side of the bus. To my peers, it stood for the “Idiots Learning Centre”.

I even remember, near the end of my school years, a moment when my friend A – who had been with me through primary and secondary school – told me his mum had “always had a soft spot” for me. When I asked why, he said: “Because, being dyslexic, you’ve always been a little bit special.”

And yes, I am dyslexic. However, unlike my genius friend A, I completed my A levels, went on to university, gained postgraduate qualifications and have written numerous articles, blogs and a couple of books. He did none of those things – just saying.

These comments did bother me when I was younger, and the points below are my attempt to show how problematic labelling pupils with “special educational needs” – even mild ones – can be.

This is not to suggest that we should avoid offering additional support and intervention. Some pupils actively seek help, are comfortable with their needs being known, and appreciate clear support. Others – like my younger self – may feel differently. I am sure many fall somewhere in-between, depending on how overt that support is.

What I am saying is that we need to exercise caution. The sensitivity involved in overtly identifying and supporting someone with SEN like dyslexia must be carefully considered.

What is labelling?

In classrooms that value inclusivity and equity, subtle forms of discrimination can still persist, often unintentionally. One of the most subtle is the use of labels – often called “labelling” by sociologists (Becker, 1963; see also Hargreaves et al, 1975) – particularly around learning differences such as dyslexia (Haft et al, 2023).

While labelling can help pupils access support and resources (Porta & Todd, 2024) – and many teachers will be familiar with parents who actively seek a label – it can also reinforce stigma, damage self-esteem and, I would argue, perpetuate micro-aggressions: small, often unconscious slights that build up over time and contribute to feelings of inadequacy.

For pupils with dyslexia, the effects of labelling and “micro-aggressions” can be long-lasting, influencing both academic performance and emotional wellbeing.

A recent study, for example, found that children labelled with dyslexia, along with their teachers and parents, tend to hold lower expectations of their academic ability compared to peers with similar characteristics but without the label (Knight, 2021). This includes reduced confidence in English and maths and a lower likelihood of aspiring to university.

Labelling and its consequences

Labels in education serve a dual purpose. On the one hand, they help us tailor support and instruction to individual needs. For example, identifying a pupil as dyslexic may lead to interventions such as extra time in exams or structured literacy programmes (Elliott & Grigorenko, 2014). On the other hand, those same labels can lead to stereotyping, narrowing how we see the pupil’s potential, as well as the pupil’s own perception of their abilities (Haft et al, 2023; also see “internalised stigma” below).

The term “dyslexia” has been both empowering and problematic (Kale, 2020). While it has helped validate a legitimate neurological difference, it can also invite generalisations about ability and intelligence. Teachers, peers and even parents may unintentionally imply that dyslexic pupils are “slow” or “less capable” – despite research showing that dyslexia has no correlation with overall intelligence (Snowling, 2013).

Understanding micro-aggressions

Coined by psychiatrist Chester M Pierce in the 1970s, the term “micro-aggression” refers to the subtle, yet often unintentional and discriminatory remarks or behaviours directed at marginalised or disadvantaged groups. They may not be particularly overt or malicious, but their cumulative impact can be damaging (Sue et al, 2007).

Though often discussed in the context of race or ethnicity, in education, micro-aggressions towards dyslexic pupils can also appear prejudicial or discriminatory.

They show up in everyday moments, like those I described above, and are not necessarily meant to cause hurt or distress. My friend’s mum, for instance, was trying to be helpful. The ILC was there to support me. My friend A was – despite his lack of tact – a friend.

Micro-aggressions can also include classroom assumptions such as, “Is this going to be too hard for you?”, or always providing scaffolds like sentence starters, regardless of whether the pupil needs or wants them. These may seem minor, but they send a message: you’re not expected to manage on your own.

Internalised stigma

Repeated micro-aggressions can lead pupils to internalise negative beliefs about their abilities, which could lead to what sociologists have termed the “self-fulfilling prophecy” – where these negative beliefs stick and become static (Merton, 1948).

For dyslexic pupils, this may result in avoidance of reading and writing tasks, self-deprecating humour or a reluctance to seek help or use support. That was certainly my experience.

As already suggested, over time pupils may come to believe that their dyslexia – or any other need for that matter – defines or limits them. Here, unintentional micro-aggressions can be just as problematic as the overt and intentional labels discussed earlier.

This can affect motivation, increase anxiety and lead to underachievement (Burden, 2008; also see Haft et al, 2023). It may also create over-dependence on external support, reduce resilience, and hinder the development of effective metacognitive strategies.

What can teachers do?

Again, I am wary of giving advice here as I am writing – by and large – from a personal viewpoint with reference to some external research. Your SENCO is the one to ask and is better placed to advise on this than me. You might also consult this SecEd article by Sara Alston (2021), entitled Moving beyond the label: Needs not diagnosis…

Nevertheless, teachers are in a unique position to challenge micro-aggressions and shift the narrative around dyslexia and I think there is no harm in considering how we can be more sensitive when dealing with these issues. Here are several proactive strategies:

Avoid deficit-based thinking: Rather than focusing on what dyslexic pupils “can’t” do, highlight their strengths – such as creativity, problem-solving or verbal communication. Studies show that dyslexic individuals often excel in visual-spatial reasoning and big-picture thinking (Eide & Eide, 2012). Also, please don’t assume that dyslexic pupils don’t like a challenging read – I was told by my English teacher when in year 9 that JG Ballard’s Empire of the Sun “wasn’t suitable for me” and I should choose something “easier”. I read it anyway.

Don’t underestimate: Two years ago a pupil who “couldn’t write” thanked me for getting her a high grade in RE after I had refused to accept that she couldn’t write. Sure, she struggled, but I worked on confidence, proactivity (in terms of just getting on with writing answers), and not joining in the collective excuse-making. While I would never jettison or bypass the advice of my SENCOs or teaching assistants, I will have high expectations of pupils with dyslexia as I know that once my own teachers – a few at secondary and more so at college – had belief in me, my grades started to climb. Oh, and that pupil’s writing was perfectly fine, she just lacked confidence.

Normalise support: Support should be discreet and normalised. Avoid singling out pupils or making adjustments appear as exceptions. When all pupils are offered choices in how they demonstrate learning, stigma decreases.

Embrace positive-marking: I hated having my work checked when I was in primary school, often in secondary and even by at least one lecturer in college (although, when I showed this same work to my amazing A level English teacher, she said my writing was simply too complex – and that I should simplify it for the lecturer in question). Essentially, all assessed work felt like a hatchet job on my spelling, punctuation and grammar, despite the fact that I had tried my best to answer the question. Of course, I understand the need for rigorous marking on SPaG-specific tasks and that clear errors in other areas of the curriculum must be addressed. But don’t overdo it, especially when the communication is otherwise clear and the content well understood. Praise the intellectual application of knowledge as well as the procedural aspects.

Final thoughts

Labels like “dyslexic” are not inherently harmful, but their misuse can be. In classrooms, where expectations shape outcomes, micro-aggressions rooted in labelling can quietly undermine a pupil’s confidence and potential. It’s essential that teachers, peers and parents remain vigilant in identifying and eliminating these subtle slights.

Recognising the impact of language is the first step. By fostering a classroom environment that honours differences without defining pupils by them, we can move from a model of labelling to one where all pupils are valued, included, and empowered to succeed.

Of course, and as stressed already, it is essential that pupils with dyslexia, as well as other SEN or neurological conditions, are supported and recommended interventions implemented, but some of us would prefer this to be somewhat discrete.

  • Andrew Jones is assistant headteacher at The Reach Free School in Hertfordshire. He has been a teacher for 22 years. Find his previous contributions to SecEd via www.sec-ed.co.uk/authors/andrew-jones. With thanks to Laura Juniper for commenting on this in her SENCO capacity.

Further information & resources

Picture image: Negative Space (used under a Creative Commons Licence)

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