Working with students who are both marginalized and highly impacted by autism has shaped everything about how I use technology. Many of my students come to me with limited language, communication skills, and confidence. Their behaviors often reflect frustration and an inability to express needs and wants. I believe teachers should never underestimate their students’ abilities—and that the right tools, used thoughtfully, can reveal capacities that were always there.

One of my most powerful experiences was placing a communication device in the hands of a nonverbal student. Using the Unique Learning System as her core, and layering in BrainPOP Jr. and other digital supports, we saw her comprehension of leveled content consistently reach 80–100%. The data removed any doubt that she was “just guessing.” As she gained a voice, we also saw self-harm behaviors fade—no more biting or throwing herself on the ground. Academically, her spelling and vocabulary improved dramatically, and when she encountered a new word, she began using Google images to build meaning and context. Technology didn’t “fix” her; it finally gave her a way to show us what she knew and to advocate for herself.

My students are often expert users of technology outside of school. They set up Bluetooth controllers, play networked games, and create their own informal learning networks. In the classroom, I see it as my responsibility to harness those interests. Digital games and gamified tasks—drawing on work like Karl Kapp’s Gamification of Learning and Instruction—give my students a familiar space to practice communication, collaboration, and problem-solving. I want them to move from being consumers of digital media to being producers: creating short autobiographical videos, coding simple programs, or designing their own learning scenarios.

Computational thinking is a key part of this. Integrating Code.org into my classroom has had a profound impact. Students read directions, plan solutions, collaborate in partner programming, and persist through challenge. The same quiet, hesitant learners who once avoided participation become enthusiastic coders, coaching each other and explaining their thinking. These experiences don’t just teach coding; they build executive functioning, language, and confidence.

As a technology leader, I support other teachers in choosing tools that truly serve students and in rethinking learning through blended and flipped models. I emphasize that they don’t need to implement new tools perfectly; instead, we model risk-taking, reflection, and iteration. Mistakes are not failures but data points. My role is to help colleagues create environments where students feel safe to experiment, where their strengths are visible, and where digital tools provide a genuine voice.

Looking ahead, I continue to explore virtual and augmented reality as potential spaces for social-emotional learning and life skills practice, particularly for students impacted by autism. I believe our students can and should be creators in these environments—designing their own social scenarios, narratives, and worlds. Across all of this work, my core philosophy remains simple: use technology to help students find their voices, connect with others, and see themselves as capable learners, while building the 4Cs of 21st-century learning—collaboration, communication, creativity, and critical thinking.