I’m Telling a Story About Lincolnshire SLT: A Call for Bold Change

This week, something happened online that hit home for me in a way I couldn’t ignore. Social media feeds lit up with conversations about Lincolnshire Speech and Language Therapy services. It wasn’t just chatter; it felt like a chorus of families, teachers, and clinicians saying, “We need something better.” And I found myself telling a story—the story of our son, our family, and the change we’re asking for.

A morning that started with questions

It began with a simple, ordinary morning. Our son woke up frustrated, trying to explain something important in the way only he knows how, but the words wouldn’t cooperate. He stumbled over sounds, his frustration building until it spilled into a storm of emotions. I often found myself over-thinking (or was i?) about the assessments he’d had years ago when he became of school age and the ones we’re wanting now but having to fight hard to get. Were they thorough? Were they face-to-face where they needed to be? I wondered if we were simply taking the best guess, hoping for the right support to land in the right place.

Why face-to-face assessments matter

As I moved through the day, a memory kept replaying: the doctor who listened in the same room, the teacher who watched how he played and spoke, the therapist who asked him to show, not just tell. Faces, body language, a quick follow-up question asked in the moment—these things aren’t easily captured in a video clip or a phone call limuted to 53mega bites or about 20 seconds long. I started to believe that face-to-face assessments aren’t a luxury; they’re the heartbeat of an accurate, comprehensive evaluation.

The journey to access

In our town, the path to assessment often felt like a maze. Travel time piled up, appointments clashed with school drops, and the costs added up just to reach a center. It wasn’t fair that getting a proper assessment required such a climb. I pictured more diverse locations—community hubs, schools, and clinics in neighborhoods across Lincolnshire—so families wouldn’t face endless barriers to access.

Video evidence vs. a real picture

There was a moment when I heard someone say a video could show what was happening. It stuck with me, because I’ve learned that a well-timed clip can tell part of the story, but not the whole story. For a child who might be neurodivergent, a diagnosis isn’t a single moment or a single clip especially of known as mimicking.  It’s a mosaic built from observation, conversation, and hands-on assessment. I imagined a world with clear guidelines: video evidence is helpful, but it isn’t enough on its own to seal a diagnosis especially when the tech doesnt meet the need. 

The kid at the center: more than a label

As neurodivergent needs rise, the question becomes not only how we assess but how we teach. Our schools are full of bright, capable pupils who deserve a setting that fits their strengths. I’ve seen how specialist teaching in mainstream classrooms can unlock doors—helping a child listen better, participate more, and feel that they belong all ontop of speciailist training to support children dirwctly effected by speech impairments. Yet referrals are more often than not rejected or a out of reach cost, a grim reminder of how funding cuts are directly impacting vulnerable young people, even when it feels like SLT expertise could be the spark that helps a child thrive. During our early years within this journey we had great support including makaton support however once he had used this tool semi successfully to change from non verbal to verbal we where dropped. Discharged with advice to 'slow him down' in 2023. Fastfoward to 2025 i remain fighting for face to face assessment. 

The moment of realization

Towards the end of the day, I sat with a cup of tea and thought about what matters most. Accessible, thorough assessments aren’t a bureaucratic checkbox; they’re a lifeline. They determine what happens next in education, in social life, in every ordinary moment your child learns to navigate the world. If we want kids to thrive, we need to get this right—today, not someday.

What changes i believe would improve services but we all know the fault will lie with lack of funding being to blame 

A public commitment to restore and prioritize face-to-face assessments where they’re most needed.

More diverse locations for services so families can access support without trekking across the county.

Clear guidelines that video evidence alone isn’t enough for diagnosis, paired with a transparent, evidence-based assessment process. 

Streamlined pathways to specialist teaching and SLT support embedded in mainstream settings, so help comes when it’s needed, not after a long wait.

A hopeful roadmap

If you’re reading this and you’ve ever felt the weight of watching your child struggle to be understood, I’m asking us to come together for practical solutions:

Funding to fund in-person assessments, more locations, and targeted teaching.

Training so SLTs and teachers can meet neurodivergent needs with confidence.

Policy updates that put children’s well-being and fairness at the center.

And if you’re sharing this story, let’s push for real, constructive change. Tag local decision-makers. Share personal experiences that illuminate the need. Advocate for evidence-based practices that help our kids flourish.

 

You can read the original discussion here:

https://www.facebook.com/share/1Cj9no53e2/

Thank you for reading our story and views. We want to hear your story email hello@theroraproject.com 

 

Picture of our handsome young man pictured is who we continue to fight for and dedicate being bold