Originally published in the Moultrie News.
We’ve got a daughter with anxiety. She doesn’t like giving presentations, so the school has her on 504 plan so she can do a different assignment. This okay?
The number of kids with anxiety problems has increased considerably. According to the National Survey of Children’s Health, in 2016, about 7% of kids aged 3-17 were diagnosed with anxiety. The CDC says by 2024 it had risen to 11%. For ages 12-17, it’s over 16%.
Many of these students are placed on 504 plans — legal documents that delineate accommodations schools must provide so impairments don’t interfere with academic progress.
A 2022 study revealed that the average anxious student gets 20 school-based supports. And the accommodations generally follow a theme: excuse students from whatever makes them anxious. Common exemptions include oral reports, time constraints for tests and assignments, and sitting with others at lunch.
If you’re the parent of a student who gets anxious and cries about such things, you might initially feel good about these accommodations. But feeling good about things isn’t the same as things being good. I used to cry when my mom brushed tangles out of my hair; she did it anyway. I’m sure it pained her to hear my wails, but giving up would have caused bigger problems in the long run.
This can also apply to accommodations. The tears stop when you excuse kids from delivering oral reports. But what happens later when they have to endure a presentation-style interview for a high-level job before a dozen executives? They’ll have been trained to avoid such situations. That can take many quality vocations off the table, a reality that’s truly anxiety-inducing.
Even worse, accommodations can actually compound anxiety. That’s the view of many psychologists, including Columbia University’s Ben Lovett and Harvard’s Alex Jordan.
“Anxiety feeds on avoidance,” they say. “Academic accommodations for anxiety convey two harmful messages. First, they imply that the feared situation is truly dangerous. Public speaking, testing, or lunch with classmates are too risky for a student. Second, they suggest that the student can’t withstand the distress. Those messages increase anxiety.”
Remember when you used to be afraid of the dark? What if your parents had told you, “Yes, it’s okay to be afraid. The dark is scary. Keep the lights on.”
Gulp.
That would have validated every fear I had about the dark.
Thankfully, my parents took a better approach. They told me uncategorically that there was nothing to be afraid of. To help me adapt, they gave me a night light for a while. I soon got the message and didn’t need it anymore.
There are always exceptions for extreme cases, but a good 504 plan should generally do something similar. Instead of exempting the oral report, it might permit a 1-minute report at first so the child can see that nothing catastrophic is going to happen. By the end of the year, the goal would be a full oral report. Similar strategies can help kids manage timed tests and social anxiety.
But that’s not what we do. Schools often indulge parental pleas and enshrine the child’s unfounded fears into law, making the child even more anxious over time.
That’s the very opposite of psychology’s “gold standard” method to combat anxiety: exposure therapy, where anxious patients confront their fears directly.
“When students take on what they’d rather avoid,” Lovett and Jordan say, “they learn that worst-case scenarios rarely materialize, that discomfort is survivable, and that anxiety diminishes with practice.”
Many 504 plans do the opposite. We could accurately call it “aversion” therapy. If a child finds it stressful to eat with peers, schools often say, “Great. We’ll see that you never have to.”
But that tactic robs students of growth opportunities, say Lovett and Jordan: “Typical schooling involves many natural exposures that build confidence. Class presentations boost public-speaking poise. Timed quizzes teach performance under pressure. Lunchtime exercises social muscles. Through these everyday challenges, students develop their self-management skills and learn to get through life even when feeling uncomfortable.”
It’s hard to overcome a deficiency by surrendering to it. Keeping the lights on through years of schooling only makes the darkness of the real world seem more fearful.
Jody Stallings has been an award-winning teacher in Charleston since 1992 and is director of the Charleston Teacher Alliance. To submit a question, order his books, or follow him on social media, please visit JodyStallings.com.



Education is not just a grade on a test. It is growth not measured by assessments. It’s the bully who realizes the world does not revolve around them. It’s the shy kid who steps in front of the class to give a speech and their classmates erupt in cheers for their bravery. It’s the kid who learns their writing makes sense. Love this Jody!