STE(A)M - Subject of Now and the Future

Science, Technology, Engineering, Art, Maths - the combination thereof. A fusion of subjects and disciplines combining to make everyday products.

My passion for engineering and invention started at university, where I worked on the development and patenting of stretchable mirrors, further down the line designing and making furniture from cardboard, and collaborating on a large-scale community arts project in post-war Bosnia and London. This experience shaped my belief in creativity as a tool for learning, communication, and problem-solving.

As a multi disciplinary (D&T, Maths, Engineering, Computing, Art & Design)  teacher, I've guided students through hundreds of hands-on projects, from furniture making and car decal design to robotics, remote-controlled buggies, game design, and product development. I teach STEAM in a way that is practical, engaging, and relevant, using interdisciplinary projects that blend creativity with technical skills.

Beyond the classroom, I've developed and copyrighted products, run design businesses, and worked in graphic and multimedia design. This real-world experience allows me to mould the curriculum around both the student and the project, ensuring that learning is meaningful, personalised, and connected to industry practice.

I've brought this creative attitude into teaching to make it fun, engaging, useful, and skill-building - so we all have a great time making stuff, solving problems, and finding out how stuff works."

The Day We Built Go-Karts: Why "Beautiful Chaos" Beats Quiet Compliance

"We're building go-karts today."

The room erupted. Not with the anxiety or resistance I'd seen in traditional lessons, but with something else entirely: boisterous excitement that quickly sharpened into focus. These were kids who typically struggled with distraction, noise, anxiety - all the things that make conventional classrooms feel like minefields. But give them Giant Meccano, a design challenge, and permission to get loud? Everything changed.

We split into three teams - two at opposite ends of the room, one spilling into the hallway. Within minutes, the space transformed into what some teachers might call chaos. I call it learning in motion.

The room sounded like discovery: chatter bouncing off walls, the clatter of metal pieces, bursts of laughter, the occasional "Wait, wait - try THIS!" Myself and the learning support floated between teams, not directing, but discussing, encouraging, engaging. The kids were doing the real work.

And then there was Cal.

Usually, Cal was easily distracted - his ASD and ADHD made sustained focus elusive in traditional settings. But with Meccano pieces spread before him and a go-kart to engineer? He became animated. He took the lead. And the expression on his face - that massive beam - told me everything I needed to know about what was happening in his brain.

Around him, roles emerged organically: leaders, builders, designers, problem-solvers, and kids who just wanted to be part of something bigger than themselves. No one assigned these roles. No worksheet dictated who did what. They found their place in the gang.

Problems surfaced immediately, as they should: axles too long, wheels falling off, no back support to push the buggy, designs that looked brilliant on paper but collapsed in the hallway. So they tested. Adjusted. Tested again. One group completely scrapped their framework and started over. Another tweaked incrementally until physics cooperated.

This is where the learning lives - in the trial and error, in the redesign, in the moment when you realize your solution doesn't work and you have to think again. I encourage them to be confident in their own solutions, to TRY them, even when they might fail. Especially when they might fail. Because that's not defeat - that's the design process.

When competition day arrived, we gathered an audience. Each kart made timed runs down the long hallway. We marked them on speed, aesthetics, functionality. And I was struck, as I always am, by the diversity of solutions: different designs, different propulsion methods (push vs. pull), different interpretations of the same challenge.

It was close. It was joyous. It was productive and, dare I say, academic.

Some teachers were "a bit miffed by the chaos." Others loved it. The difference? Control. My idea of a learning space is messy at times, noisy, creative, engaging, and exciting. Traditional education prizes quiet compliance. I prize kids being themselves, cutting loose, developing their own ideas, taking roles outside their 'normal' ones, having fun while building something real.

This is what I mean by "beautiful chaos" - it's not disorder for its own sake. It's the sound of neurodivergent minds engaging exactly as they're designed to: systematically, creatively, physically, collaboratively. It's what happens when you stop trying to force pattern-seeking, hands-on thinkers into passive, verbal, sit-still learning and instead build the learning environment around how their brains actually work.

That's why STEAM works. Not because it's trendy. Not because robots are cool (though they are). But because it gives neurodivergent kids what they've been missing: concrete problems, visible progress, multiple pathways to success, and permission to learn by doing.

That day, watching Cal lead his team, watching anxious kids forget to be anxious, watching "distractible" kids sustain focus for two hours straight - I saw my methodology in action. I saw the Cuckoo's Nest crew finding their place, their purpose, their power.

And every single one of them left that room knowing they could build something that worked.

Why STEAM Works - The Real Reasons (Not What You Think)

This isn't just my experience. Students with autism have the HIGHEST STEM participation rates of 11 disability categories studied. But understanding why requires looking beyond the stereotype of "autistic kids are good at math."

Here's what I've learned from two decades in the trenches:

Multiple Entry Points, Multiple Pathways

Traditional academics offer one path: sit still, listen, write, test. STEM offers infinite entry points.

Take a BBC Micro:bit project. Max - severely dysregulated, anxious, unable to focus in conventional lessons - could follow the visual, step-by-step sequence. No lengthy explanations. No abstract concepts floating in space. Just: Do this. See that happen. Now do this. The visual representation gave him something to anchor to. He worked at his own pace, and for the first time in months, he could really show his ability.

That's not accommodation. That's good design.

Hands-On = Higher Engagement

I've found, consistently, that hands-on activities engage neurodivergent kids at a fundamentally different level than traditional academics. Many have intense resistance to writing. They find purely academic approaches abstract and challenging - ideas floating in theoretical space with no tether to reality.

But give them something to build, design, break apart, or remake? Engagement soars.

Why? Because experiential learning isn't just "more fun" - it's how these brains are wired to process information. There's an old adage:

"Tell me and I forget, teach me and I remember, involve me and I learn."

For neurodivergent learners, this isn't a nice-to-have. It's essential.

Multiple Communication Pathways

Visual-spatial learners can demonstrate understanding without verbal requirements. The kid who can't articulate the engineering principle can show you by building it. Tangible outcomes make learning visible and concrete.

I've watched Scotty create intricate Pokémon characters in clay - hyperfocused, intensely expressive, building his own story. Henry making Lego stop-motion animations. These weren't "art projects." They were highly sophisticated explorations of narrative structure, sequence, timing, cause and effect. And critically: they were in control.

That sense of control - of being the architect of your own learning - is a feature that many autistic learners crave but rarely experience in traditional classrooms. STEAM projects can range from highly scaffolded and structured to completely open-ended and creative. Often they're a combination. The key is the learner gets to steer.

Movement Meets Hyperfocus

ADHD kids get to move around. They can pace, fidget with materials, stand at workbenches, shift between tasks. Their bodies aren't the enemy of learning - they're part of the process.

And paradoxically, the same kids labeled "can't focus" will hyperfocus on making and creating for hours. Because it's not that they can't focus. It's that they can't focus on things that don't engage them kinesthetically and cognitively at the same time.

The Relationship Magic

Building go-karts together versus sitting across a table doing worksheets - the difference isn't just pedagogical. It's relational.

When you make something together, it's real and memorable. It's a thing, an event, something exciting that happened - not just a fact on paper or a test passed. Students are engaged with their whole being: mind, body, emotions. They're invested in the project, which means they're invested in the relationship with the person helping them build it.

I remember Kev - the ADHD poster boy with a firm idea of what he wanted to create in Design and Technology. He couldn't sit through explanations. Couldn't follow traditional lesson plans. So I eventually opened the tool room for him to use independently, teaching skills as he went, in the midst of creating. Scaffolding and modularizing the learning as he needed it, when he needed it.

That's not "lowering expectations." That's recognizing that the relationship between maker and materials - and between student and teacher - is the curriculum.

We all remember what we made, what we did with our hands. Those memories stick because they're embodied. Ask me about a worksheet I filled out in Year 9 and I'll give you nothing. Ask me about the perpetual motion machine I had to dream up.I’ll give you  every detail.

Concrete to Abstract - Why Physical Materials Matter

Why does building physical things with real materials matter MORE for neurodivergent kids?

Because it brings learning alive.

When you can see, touch, test your work, iteration becomes part of the process rather than evidence of failure. In traditional academics, failure feels permanent: wrong answer, bad grade, proof you "can't do it."

In STEAM, getting it wrong is essential to the design process. There's no such thing as failure in my philosophy - there's only "that didn't work, let's try something else."

I watched a kid Billy build a stool. It didn't work the first time. Or the second. The legs were uneven. The joints were weak. And with each iteration, he learned something - not from me lecturing about angles and load-bearing, but from the stool itself teaching him through its refusal to cooperate.

Neurodivergent kids can find iteration challenging - they want the straight line from idea to finished product. But in the physical realm, the challenges are visible and solvable. The problem isn't hidden in abstract math or buried in verbal instructions. It's right there in your hands.

That's the difference. Traditional academics say: "You got it wrong." STEAM says: "It doesn't work yet. What do we change?"

One is a verdict. The other is an invitation.

Essential Skills for the 21st Century (And Beyond)

So yes, STEAM teaches essential skills: make stuff, fix stuff, design stuff, solve problems, have fun, explore, learn, work alone or as a team, communicate ideas, use technology.

But for neurodivergent learners, it does something more fundamental:

It gives them a way to be competent, capable, and creative in a world that often tells them they're none of those things.

When Cal's face lit up with that massive beam. When Max followed the Micro:bit sequence and saw his code work. When S lost himself in Pokémon claymation. When Kev finally built what he'd been envisioning.

Those weren't "special needs kids learning despite their disabilities."

Those were brilliant, capable young people finally given tools that matched how their brains work.

The Bigger Picture: What's Actually At Stake

Here's what keeps me up at night:

85% of students with disabilities graduate into underemployment or unemployment. For individuals with autism specifically, the employment rate sits at just 19.3% - the lowest of any disability group.

Meanwhile, the US  projected a 28.2% increase in STEM-related jobs between 2014 and 2024 and beyond. The UK faces similar shortages. We desperately need engineers, coders, designers, makers, problem-solvers.

The talent is there. The jobs are there. The gap is in the middle.

And that gap? It's not about capability. It's about access. It's about education systems that were built for neurotypical learners and never properly redesigned for the 1 in 7 people in the UK who are neurodivergent.

When we fail to provide STEM opportunities - real, hands-on, student-led, relationship-based STEM opportunities - to neurodivergent learners, we're not just limiting individual kids. We're losing an entire generation of untapped potential in fields where their cognitive strengths - pattern recognition, hyperfocus, systematic thinking, attention to detail, persistence - are exactly what's needed.

Research calls neurodivergent individuals "an untapped human resource in STEM fields." I call them brilliant young people who've been waiting for someone to build an education system that actually fits how they think.

What Happens When We Get It Right

I'm watching it happen in real time. Founders like @Saima Hussain - a PhD chemist building a specialist school for autistic learners with STEM at its heart, academic aspiration built into the DNA. Educators who understand that "alternative provision" doesn't mean "lower expectations" - it means different pathways to the same destination: competence, confidence, and genuine capability.

When we design STEAM education intentionally for neurodivergent learners - with multiple entry points, hands-on exploration, visible progress, safe failure, and relationship at the center - we're not accommodating deficits. We're unlocking strengths that were always there.

The go-kart day wasn't magic. It was methodology. It was understanding that Cal's "distractibility" disappears when the learning matches his brain. That M's "inability to focus" is actually hyperfocus waiting for the right challenge. That traditional education's insistence on verbal, abstract, sit-still learning isn't the only way - or even the best way - to develop academic and technical skills.

In 5-10 years, if people like us succeed, neurodivergent STEM education will look radically different:

●      Schools designed from the ground up around how these kids learn (not retrofitted with "accommodations")

●      Maker spaces, innovation hubs, and hands-on labs as standard, not luxury add-ons

●      Teachers who understand that beautiful chaos is often productive chaos

●      Career pathways that recognize pattern-seeking, systematic thinkers belong in engineering, coding, design, and innovation

●      A generation of neurodivergent professionals in STEM fields, not despite their neurodivergence, but because we finally built education that worked WITH their brains instead of against them

That's the future I'm building toward.

Let's Build This Together

I'm establishing flexible alternative provision in Oxfordshire and the Southeast - STEAM-centered, relationship-based, designed for neurodivergent and dual exceptional learners who need education that fits them, not a system that demands they fit it.

But this work is bigger than any one program or any one region. It requires a network: educators who get it, parents who've seen what's possible, founders building new models, researchers documenting what works, and policymakers willing to fund what neurodivergent learners actually need.

If you're in this space - or want to be - I'd love to connect:

●      Educators and practitioners exploring STEAM approaches with neurodivergent learners

●      Parents who've watched their kids transform when given hands-on, student-led learning opportunities

●      School founders and leaders building alternative or specialist provision with STEAM at the core

●      Researchers and thought leaders documenting what works (and what doesn't) in neurodivergent STEM education

●      Potential collaborators interested in curriculum development, training, or consultancy

I'm building a collaborative network because this work needs all of us. No single person, program, or approach has all the answers. But together? We can shift the paradigm.

Reach out via LinkedIn or through [your contact method]. Share your stories, your challenges, your successes. Let's learn from each other.

Because every kid who leaves a STEAM session knowing they can build something that works? That's one more future we've changed.

And the world needs what these kids can create - if we'll just give them the tools that match how their brilliant minds actually work.

Stuart KnoxSTEAM Education Consultant | Neurodivergent & Alternative Education Specialist |Founder, Clearspace Learning

#STEM #Neurodiversity #SpecialEducation