Growing up in a household where my mother worked closely with children living with autism, ADHD, and dyslexia, I was exposed to the complexities of inclusion long before I understood the term. Those early dinner-table conversations eventually evolved into a professional partnership as we co-founded the India Neurodiversity and Inclusion Foundation. While conversations about neurodiversity are often dominated by adults—such as teachers, policymakers, and specialists—I realized that students themselves are the most critical stakeholders. We are the ones navigating the daily social landscape of classrooms, cafeterias, and playing fields, where the smallest gestures define who feels welcome and who is left behind.

Inclusion isn’t just a structural policy; it is built through the micro-moments of daily student life, like being patient with a peer who communicates differently or choosing curiosity over labeling someone as "weird." Having lived in Dubai, India, and the United States, I have seen that while resources and support systems vary wildly across cultures, the human element remains the same. True inclusion happens in the moments when no adult is watching. If we want to foster more equitable communities, we must empower young people to move past judgment and start asking questions about how their peers learn and process the world. My journey has taught me that youth are not just passive recipients of inclusion—we must be the active architects of it.