A Different Way In: One Student’s Experience with Self-Paced Learning

A child behind an invisible wall

The boy is eleven years old. He did not speak in class. He did not answer questions. He did not look his teacher in the eye. He sat quietly apart, as though an invisible wall stood between him and everything happening around him.

Ms. Lina had been working with him patiently, as she does with every student who needs more time, more space, more gentleness. Her school is inclusive in practice, not just in policy: every child belongs in the classroom. But she is the first to admit she did not know what would reach him.

The training, the tools, and then the war

Ms. Lina and her colleagues completed the full ALS training. They learned to use Tabshoura, LAL’s digital learning platform, to run social-emotional learning (SEL) activities that support student wellbeing, and to help students take ownership of their own learning. Through Education Above All, the school had also received a learning dome, digital devices, and an offline Beekee Box that makes content available without an internet connection.

The training and the tools were in place. Then the war came.

When the 2026 conflict forced families across Lebanon from their homes, the school building became a shelter for displaced people. Ms. Lina and her colleagues moved learning online, using the Tabshoura content they had been trained to deliver remotely. And then something happened that she had not expected.

“He was the first one to connect. Every single session, before anyone else, he was already there.”
— Ms. Lina Marcos, teacher

The boy who had never raised his hand was the first to log on. Slowly, he began answering questions, not once and timidly but regularly and with growing confidence. He reacted to what he saw on Tabshoura. He shared his thoughts. He was, undeniably, present.

What the screen offered that the classroom didn’t

Self-directed learning let him engage on his own terms and at his own pace, without the sensory overload of a crowded room or the anxiety of being watched. The screen became a safe space where he could think, respond and take part freely.

Session after session, Ms. Lina watched a child she had known for years reveal himself as curious, engaged and eager to learn. He had never been disconnected from learning. He had simply needed a different door.

Back in the classroom

When displaced families were relocated and the school reopened, Ms. Lina wondered what would remain. Would the boy retreat behind his wall once the physical classroom returned?

He did not.

“He came back a different person. He participates in class now. He raises his hand. He started sharing what he is passionate about, what he discovered, what he wants to know next.”
— Ms. Lina Marcos, teacher

Learning autonomously on Tabshoura, moving at his own pace, choosing what to explore, building confidence one question at a time, had made him a true participant in his own learning.

Why it matters: inclusion in practice

Ms. Lina has seen many children with learning differences struggle in classrooms that were never designed for them: too loud, too socially demanding, too rigid in the pace and format they impose on everyone.

“Many children with learning difficulties benefited from learning at their own pace, autonomously, on Tabshoura. But this boy’s story, this was something else. This was outstanding.”
— Ms. Lina Marcos, teacher

What the ALS approach, and Tabshoura in particular, offered was not a workaround or a consolation. It was a different model of learning, one that puts the child at the center, lets them set the pace, and removes the social and sensory pressures that can make a traditional classroom nearly impossible to navigate. For children with learning difficulties, that difference can be transformative. For this boy, it was.

Before and after

Before, he was a child who was in school but could not fully be in school. His teachers cared and his school was inclusive in spirit, but the tools of a traditional classroom did not fit him.

Now, he speaks. He asks questions. He has passions he carried silently for years, waiting for someone to make room for them.

Ms. Lina smiles when she talks about him. There is something in her voice beyond professional satisfaction: a kind of wonder, the sense of having witnessed what made her become a teacher in the first place.

“I knew he was in there. I just did not know how to reach him. It turned out the answer was to give him the space to reach us.”
— Ms. Lina Marcos, teacher

In a time of war, a boy who could not speak in class found his voice. What began as a response to crisis became an opportunity for inclusion, and a reminder that with the right tools and support, every child can find a path to learning, expression and belonging.