Why we should teach him

Val Hazell wasn't pleased when she heard that an autistic child was starting at the primary school at which she teaches. She first saw Jonathan Padley, now eight, in school assembly. "He just stood up and squealed," she says. "I was negative about him coming. His funding hadn't come through and all our support staff were going to have to concentrate on him."

Jonathan's parents also had their doubts. "Our worry was that he'd be very disruptive," says his father, Neil Padley. He and his wife, Dawn, had approached all the other primary schools in their home town, Hatfield in Hertfordshire, asking if they'd take their son. "We got a negative response from everyone else," says Neil. "New Briar's School was the only one that asked constructive questions about Jonathan."

The number of children diagnosed with autism is rising significantly. In the county of Hertfordshire, for example, there are 800 children officially identified with autism, 350 of them in primary schools. Five years ago, there were 100, and the sharpest increase is at primary-school age. According to the National Autism Society, one in 80 primary-school children nationally has special needs relating to autism. The Conservative Party, for one, does not believe that these already overstretched institutions will be able to cope with this influx.

The Tory leader, Iain Duncan Smith, claims that the Government's policy of including autistic children in mainstream education is hurting the very people it was designed to help. He wants more special-needs pupils educated in special schools, on the grounds that mainstream schools can't offer the kind of specialised teaching and close personal care needed.

Judith Barnard, the director of policy and public affairs of the National Autism Society, believes that many autistic children are being seriously failed by the education system. If inclusion is to work, schools need a large cash injection and more training, she believes. "You can't get away from the fact that inclusion is an expensive policy," she says. But, unlike Mr Duncan Smith, she believes that it is a price that parents think is worth paying.

Contrary to expectation, Jonathan's is a success story. Walking into his classroom, the only thing that marks him out is his bright red hair. He sits happily among his classmates, writing a report on a trip to a local mosque. His classroom assistant is nearby, helping another child with his spelling. A closer look shows that Jonathan's writing is larger and swirlier than his classmates', but all the details of the trip are there – how he had to take his shoes off, how they climbed up some steps and saw everyone praying downstairs. Then it's break-time, and he goes happily into the playground.

"He has surpassed all our expectations," says Val Hazell, who taught him in Year 2. She and her fellow teachers do not believe it was extra cash or training that made his inclusion work. "I think the most important thing was deciding to take the risk and accept Jonathan," says the head teacher Colin Abbott, who had never hadan autistic child at his school before. His teachers had no special training when Jonathan arrived, and Abbott doesn't believe it would have made a big difference. "Every child with autism is different, so it was more important to find out about Jonathan. It was the support we got from his parents and Judy Coad, our visiting teacher for autism, that was vital," he says. Jonathan is never without a classroom assistant. "We need another pair of eyes for him," says Val Hazell.

When Jonathan arrived, he had to have his own corner of the classroom and would not sit with his classmates. He now plays with them easily. He has learnt to read and write. He goes swimming, does PE, and recently appeared in the school play. Val Hazell says that there has never been a complaint about him. "He doesn't disrupt anyone else's education," she says. "His classmates accept him for who he is. If he is agitated, his assistant quietly takes him out of the classroom. The other kids carry on as normal."

Angela Dyer, a teacher who has worked with autistic children for 30 years, believes that young people with autism can be educated in mainstream schools given the right attitudes. "The majority of children with autism are high-functioning people," she says. "They need the models of ordinary children. One of the main problems for autistic people is social communication, and you can only learn that when you are with children who can communicate normally."

The National Union of Teachers is more sceptical. "Some autistic children wouldn't benefit from a mainstream education because of a lack of training or facilities at the school," says an NUT spokesperson. "Classroom assistants are crucial when dealing with children with special needs. There are approximately 23,500 schools in England and Wales, and only 96,000 assistants. So it is very difficult for every child with a special need to have their needs met in school."

Janice Ballard, a parent, agrees. Her son Jamie went to a mainstream nursery in Muswell Hill, London, for three days a week just after he was diagnosed with severe autism at the age of three. "It didn't work because he didn't get any special help. I was pleased that he had the chance to go, but he would have done so much better with one-to-one supervision," she says. "If he's not structured and supervised, he regresses. He gets frustrated and head-bangs and hand-bites." He is now happy at a special-needs school.

With a condition as complex as autism, what works for one child will not necessarily work for another. "You can't make generalisations," says Angela Dyer, a teacher and autism specialist . "Every child is so different. Schools need to understand autism and how it is affecting a particular child before they can make decisions about them." But Jonathan's story shows that schools should not be so quick to turn away these children. His parents' struggle to get a mainstream school to accept their child is not uncommon. Sue Thomas had a similar experience when she tried to get her son Elliot, now eight, into a primary school in Islington, London. "I must have looked at 11 or 12 schools. A lot of people said, 'Oh no, we can't possibly deal with that here. You'll have to go to a special school'. Even though my son is bright academically," she says.

From September, schools will have to think twice before saying no. Next month, the new Disability Discrimination Act comes into force, allowing parents the right to take a school to tribunal if they feel that their child has been discriminated against.

The National Autism Society's Judith Barnard expects it to be used: "Schools and local authorities will no longer be able to use exclusion as a means of ducking their responsibilities towards children with autism."

education@independent.co.uk