ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT PERCEPTION
Adam McRoy reflects on the effect his diagnosis of Aphantasia had on his approach as an educator.
Seeing differently
A year ago, I learned something about myself that I probably should have known decades earlier: I have aphantasia. For those unfamiliar with the term, aphantasia is the inability to voluntarily create mental images. If someone asks me to picture a sunset or recall a loved one’s face, I don’t see anything – just darkness. It’s not that I struggle to visualise; the concept itself doesn’t apply.
Realising this in my forties was both fascinating and unsettling. I had always assumed that phrases like “picture this” or “see it in your mind’s eye” were just figures of speech rather than descriptions of actual mental experiences. It turns out that most people genuinely do see images in their minds. Who knew?
A new perspective on learning
This discovery has an importance for me that goes beyond personal curiosity – it has made me rethink how we talk about learning. How often do we assume that students experience the world in the same way we do? How many children sit in classrooms, silently working through a different reality, never realising that their way of thinking isn’t the norm?
It’s easy to identify the student who struggles with reading or numbers, but what about the one who can’t visualise a story? Or the one who memorises everything through words because “mind maps” are just confusing spider diagrams to them? Recognising my own aphantasia has made me more attuned to these quieter differences – the ones that don’t always have a name, but shape how a student learns, processes, and succeeds.
The overlooked spectrum of neurodiversity
This revelation has sparked a deeper interest on my part in neurodiversity – not just in the usual contexts of dyslexia, ADHD, or autism, but in all the subtle variations of thought and perception that we rarely discuss.
In schools, we often focus on learning differences that present visible challenges, but what about those that are hidden? Aphantasia doesn’t necessarily hinder learning, but it does shape how someone engages with the world. For instance, traditional teaching methods that rely on mental imagery, such as asking students to “visualise success” or “picture a historical scene”, may be ineffective for those who simply do not have a “mind’s eye.”
More broadly, this has made me think about the assumptions we make about cognition in general. We tend to frame intelligence and ability through common learning styles, but there are countless ways that individuals process and store information. Some people think best in pictures, others in words, patterns, or even emotions. Yet many educational strategies assume a dominant way of thinking that may not work for every student.
Adapting my teaching strategies
As I’ve explored this topic, I’ve begun adjusting my own teaching approach. Here are a few key insights that may help other educators
1. Offer multiple modes of learning
If a student struggles to picture a concept, provide alternatives. For example, rather than asking students to visualise a science experiment, offer hands-on demonstrations or verbal descriptions.
2. Be mindful of language
Phrases like “imagine this” or “picture that” assume a shared cognitive experience. Instead, using language like “think about” or “consider” can be more inclusive.
3. Encourage discussion about thinking styles
Normalising conversations about how students process information can help them understand their own strengths and challenges. It also fosters a more inclusive learning environment.
4. Diversify assessment methods
Some students may struggle with tasks requiring visual memory, such as drawing a diagram, but excel in verbal explanations. Offering flexible ways to demonstrate understanding can make learning more equitable.
5. Recognise the strengths of different thinkers
Aphantasia is sometimes framed as a deficit, but those with it often excel in logic, problem-solving, and verbal reasoning. Encouraging students to play to their strengths helps build confidence and engagement.
Seeing students more clearly
A year on, I still don’t “see” any differently, but I do see my students a little better! Recognising that not everyone can think in pictures has reinforced the importance of personalising learning experiences. Understanding cognitive diversity isn’t just about supporting students with identified learning needs; it’s about appreciating the full range of how young minds engage with the world.
Wider significance
By broadening our understanding of neurodiversity, we can create more inclusive classrooms where all students feel supported in their unique ways of thinking. Aphantasia may be invisible, but its impact is very real – and awareness is the first step toward making learning truly accessible for everyone.
Educators are in a powerful position to shape learning environments that cater to diverse cognitive styles. A more flexible, inclusive approach benefits not only those with aphantasia but all students, ensuring that every learner has the opportunity to thrive.
Adam McRoy is headmaster of Cogdel Cranleigh School Changsha and a passionate advocate for inclusion, cognitive diversity, and wellbeing in education.
