Better Communication Together CIC

A Memory That’s Stayed With Me for 45 Years

I always remember my own school Christmas productions.
In all my years at school, I had one speaking role: I was an angel and had to say, “Go quickly and see him.”

Blink and you’d miss it.

Every other year, I was just one of many children in the chorus. I wasn’t unhappy, but I felt invisible and unseen — simply part of the background.

But one year was different.

A teacher asked me to be in charge of turning on the illuminated star — the big “wow” moment in the nativity. I was completely thrilled. For the first time, I felt important. I felt included.

Rehearsals went smoothly. I muffed it a bit on the day — perhaps they were right to keep me in the chorus — but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that someone thought about me, found a role that suited me, and gave me something meaningful to do.

That tiny act of inclusion has stayed with me for 45 years.

When Inclusion Becomes Tokenism

Over the years, I’ve watched many school Christmas performances. So often, speaking children were given the main roles, while others — usually children with different communication needs — were simply present on stage without a meaningful part.

They were on stage, but not truly involved.
Visible, but not valued.
Included in name only.

But I’ve also seen performances where every child, regardless of how they communicate, was given a role tailored to their voice — spoken, signed, symbolic, technological, or sensory.

And that’s the kind of inclusion this blog is about.

Communication Should Never Be a Barrier to Joining In

Every child communicates in their own way.
Speech is only one method — not the benchmark, not the requirement, and certainly not the only valid route onto the stage.

Performances should reflect this diversity by:

adapting roles to match communication strengths

using tools children already rely on

celebrating a wide range of expressive styles

ensuring no child is reduced to a token or an afterthought

Inclusion means designing performances so that communication is never the reason a child misses out.

Meaningful Ways to Include Every Child’s Communication Style

Using AAC Devices

A voice output aid 

A switch for a key phrase

A Big Mack for repeated lines like “Ho Ho Ho!”

Using Symbols

Holding up one or more symbols as their line

Pointing to a symbol on a communication board

Choosing between symbols to move the story forward

Eye Gaze

Using eye gaze to speak their line

Selecting sound effects

Choosing scene transitions

Using Signing

Signing their line while someone narrates

Leading a repeated Makaton sign

Signing the chorus of a song (or indeed all of it!)

Musical or Sensory Contributions

Pressing a switch to cue music or activate lights or projections

Playing simple instruments

Holding sensory props

Using Multimodal Communication

Simple ways to include children who communicate through photos, objects or actions:

Photos: Holding up a photo as their “line”, choosing between photos, or pointing to a photo sequence that moves the story forward.

Real objects: Giving meaning through props — a star to lift, a bell to ring, a gift to hand over, a lantern to hold.

Objects of reference: Incorporating familiar objects some children already use to anchor their role or cue their moment.

Symbol + object pairing: Matching a symbol to a prop, placing a symbol on a board, or choosing between two symbol–object pairs.

Gestures/actions: Sprinkling “snow”, turning on lights, placing a star, waving ribbons — actions that are their line.

Sound cues: Using instruments, shakers, chimes or switches to create sound effects in place of spoken lines.

Slideshow cues: Children point to or trigger a photo or symbol on a projected slideshow that accompanies the story.

Backstage communication: Decorating props, recording sounds, or contributing artwork that becomes part of the performance.

These roles hold equal value — because value comes from belonging, not from the length of a line.

Pre-Recorded Lines or Scenes

Filming lines or short scenes in advance can dramatically reduce the pressure to perform on the day. Children can record their part in a quiet, familiar space, with plenty of time, encouragement and support — and no audience watching them.

One of the best performances I ever saw used this approach, and it was incredibly effective. Each child’s pre-recorded segment was woven into the live performance, giving them a moment to shine in a way that felt completely safe for them. Their confidence, pride and individuality came through beautifully on screen, and the whole audience loved it.

Pre-recording not only supports children who use AAC, symbols, signing, or multimodal communication — it also gives families a treasured keepsake and ensures that every child is represented meaningfully, even if performing “live” would be too overwhelming.

A Better Approach: Designing From the Child Outward

Instead of starting with the script and squeezing children into fixed roles, we can start with the child:

What do they enjoy?

How do they communicate?

In what way can they shine?

When we design performances around children’s communication styles, we create experiences where everyone belongs, not just those who speak fluently.

Acknowledging Another Group of Children

Of course, communication is only one aspect of inclusion.
Some children find performances difficult for entirely different reasons — sensory needs, anxiety, stage fright, or simply preferring quiet roles.

That’s a whole other form of inclusion, and in a separate blog I’ll explore how to create low-pressure performances where it’s completely OK to join in… and equally OK not to.

For now, this piece stays focused on communication accessibility, making sure no child is excluded because their communication style isn’t the traditional one.

Helpful Resources

 Jacob’s Ladder Makaton Nativity Musicals
https://www.jacobsladderproductions.co.uk/nativity-musicals-with-makaton-signing.html

Singing Hands and Out of the Ark Makaton-Supported Songs
Excellent for building inclusive musical moments and supporting whole-group signing. youtube.com

When my son was a youngster, he didn’t crawl. He shuffled around on his bottom instead — not fast, but slowly and determinedly, finding his own way to explore the world.

He couldn’t sit up independently until he was nearly two, and his low muscle tone made physical tasks more of a challenge. At the time, I thought nothing of it. It was just how he moved — his own unique way of getting from A to B.

What I didn’t realise back then, until an Occupational Therapist explained it to me, was how much crawling contributes to speech and language development. That conversation changed how I thought about movement, communication, and the brain–body connection.

Crawling and the Brain–Body Connection

Crawling isn’t just about mobility — it’s a vital part of how the brain organises itself. When babies crawl, they move their opposite arm and leg together: right arm with left leg, left arm with right leg. This “cross-lateral” movement helps both sides of the brain communicate through the corpus callosum — the bundle of nerve fibres that links the two hemispheres.

This early integration supports so many later skills, including:

Balance and posture

Hand dominance

Visual tracking and focus

Sequencing, timing, and rhythm

Speech and language

In other words, crawling helps the body and brain learn to work together — a foundation for everything that follows, from walking to writing to talking.

When Crawling Is Missed or Limited

Not every child crawls in the typical way, and that’s okay. Some shuffle, roll, or find other ways to get around. But when crawling doesn’t happen, the brain–body pathways that connect left and right may need extra support later on.

Children who skip crawling sometimes show:

Difficulty crossing the midline (moving one hand across the body)

Switching hands during a task

Challenges with rhythm, sequencing, or motor planning

Lower core strength and stability

Speech and language delays linked to coordination and timing

For my son, low muscle tone made many of these things harder. Once I understood the link, I saw how physical development and communication were beautifully intertwined.

Why It Matters for Signing and Communication

As a Makaton tutor, I see this connection play out every day. Signing isn’t just a hand skill — it’s a whole-body skill. It relies on coordination, rhythm, and timing. Many signs naturally cross the midline or use both hands together.

If crossing the midline is tricky, people might:

Keep signs on one side of their body

Swap hands mid-sign

Modify the sign — creating their own version that feels easier or more natural

And that’s perfectly fine. Signing is about communication, not precision. If the sign gets the message across, it’s a success.

Communication partners can:

Acknowledge and value each person’s way of communicating.

Pair signs with other visual indicators such as symbols, pictures, or objects of reference to support understanding.

Model the sign back correctly — correction isn’t necessary. Modelling is best practice.

Every attempt to connect deserves recognition. What matters most is that meaning is shared, not that movements are identical.

“Signing is about communication, not precision.”

My Own Experience of Dyspraxia

I also bring my own experience to this understanding. I have dyspraxia, and I often twist my body when I write so I don’t have to cross my midline. It’s not something I think about — it’s just what feels easier.

Using a laptop is far more comfortable for me than writing by hand, and I’ve learned that this isn’t avoidance — it’s adaptation. My brain and body are finding the most efficient route to success, just as my son did when he shuffled instead of crawled.

Recognising this helps me see others’ adaptations not as “incorrect,” but as clever, creative solutions.

Supporting Midline Development Through Movement

If someone has missed the crawling stage or finds coordination difficult, we can gently strengthen those brain–body connections through play and rhythm. Professionals reccommend activites such as:

Cross-crawl games (touching opposite hand and knee)

Rolling or reaching activities on the floor

Dancing with scarves or ribbons to encourage side-to-side movement

Action songs that involve both sides of the body

Movement and communication are deeply linked — when the body feels connected, the brain is freer to focus on interaction, understanding, and expression.

A Better Approach

Understanding how movement underpins communication helps us see the whole person, not just the surface skill. It reminds us that everyone develops in their own way, and every movement — whether crawling, shuffling, or twisting — tells part of their story.

Instead of correcting difference, we can celebrate adaptation.

Every child, every learner, every communicator finds their own way to connect. And when we create space for those individual routes, we build true inclusion.

I’m sometimes asked: “Why is sorry in Stage 3 of the Makaton Core Vocabulary?”

It’s a great question — and one that often comes from people who feel it should appear earlier. After all, sorry seems like such a simple, everyday word — one we use often with young children. But understanding what sorry really means is far from simple, and that’s exactly why it’s placed where it is.

What Does Sorry Really Mean?

The sign for sorry might look simple, but the concept behind it is anything but.
To truly understand sorry, we need to understand that:

Our actions have consequences for others.

Those consequences might make someone else feel sad, hurt, or cross.

We can help repair that by expressing remorse.

That’s a lot of abstract thinking — and it takes time to develop.

 How the Understanding of Sorry Develops

Research shows that understanding regret and remorse grows gradually through childhood:

Around age 4–5: Children start to grasp that apologies express emotions like guilt or remorse, and they may respond positively when someone says sorry.

Around age 5: They begin to feel their own sense of regret — for example, feeling sad when a choice doesn’t work out.

Between ages 5 and 7: This self-awareness becomes stronger; children can reflect on their own actions and feel genuine regret.

Around age 6: Many begin to show a clearer sense of remorse.

By around age 7: They can experience relief and remorse for themselves — though understanding those emotions in others may not be solid until closer to age 9.

A big part of this process is developing what psychologists call theory of mind — realising that other people have thoughts and feelings different from your own. This skill usually starts to emerge around 4 to 5 years old and continues to mature well into later childhood.

So, while “sorry” appears early in the Makaton Core Vocabulary, that doesn’t mean it’s ready to be understood or used meaningfully by every learner at that stage.

Why We Need to Be Cautious with Sorry

It’s easy to fall into the habit of prompting someone to say sorry after an incident.
But if the concept isn’t yet understood, the sign or word can lose its meaning and simply become something to copy.

Sometimes, if sorry is prompted too soon, it can also feel uncomfortable or confusing for the person using it.
Instead of helping them learn how to make things right, it might start to feel like something they have to do when they’re “in trouble.”

When (and How) to Introduce Sorry

It can help to pause and notice what the person already understands before bringing in the sign or symbol for sorry.
Are they beginning to recognise emotions like happy, sad, cross and hurt?
Can they see that other people have feelings too?
Do they understand simple cause and effect — like “You knocked the tower, it fell down”?

If those early emotional foundations are in place, the idea of sorry will start to make more sense.

You can weave it in gently and naturally, through everyday moments that have real meaning. For example:

“Oops, I spilt the juice — sorry!”

“Oh no, I bumped you. Are you okay? Sorry.”

Personally, I never insisted that my own children used the word or sign for sorry. Instead, I modelled it myself when it felt natural and genuine. Over time, I watched for those small but important signs that they were beginning to understand — moments of empathy, awareness, or care — and that’s when I began to introduce the concept more deliberately.

By seeing and hearing sorry used with real feeling, learners begin to associate it with care and connection, rather than correction.

A Better Approach

Rather than focusing on getting someone to say sorry, it can be more meaningful to guide them towards repairing the moment.
That might look like noticing what’s happened and finding a way to make it better together:

“You knocked his bricks. Let’s help rebuild.”

“She’s sad. Let’s check she’s okay.”

This gentle, supported approach models empathy and responsibility in a way that feels safe and real — and when the time is right, the sign for sorry will grow naturally from that understanding.

Final Thoughts

The sign for sorry sits in Stage 3 because it’s a social word — but it needs emotional understanding behind it.
So before you teach it, build those early experiences of emotions, empathy, and awareness of others.
That’s how sorry becomes more than a sign — it becomes a genuine act of connection.