Exploring teachers’ perceptions of inclusive education in Singapore

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Content i
Exploring Teachers’ Perceptions of Inclusive Education in Singapore
Abhirami Prakash
Rossier School of Education
University of Southern California
A dissertation submitted to the faculty
in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of
Doctor of Education
May 2025

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© Copyright by Abhirami Prakash 2025
All Rights Reserved

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The Committee for Abhirami Prakash certifies the approval of this Dissertation
Dr. Artineh Samkian
Dr. David Cash
Dr. Lawrence Picus, Committee Chair
Rossier School of Education
University of Southern California
2025

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Abstract
This qualitative case study investigates how two primary school teachers in Singapore
perceive and implement inclusive education within a system shaped by meritocracy and high
academic expectations. Framed by Critical Disability Studies and Critical Pedagogy, the
study explores how dominant ideologies, institutional structures, and socio-cultural factors
influence teachers’ beliefs and classroom practices regarding inclusion. The research focused
on two central questions: (1) What are the teachers’ perceptions of inclusive education in
Singapore? and (2) How are these perceptions reflected in their pedagogical and curricular
choices? Data were collected through semi-structured interviews and classroom observations
conducted at an inclusive mainstream primary school in Singapore for students with hearing
loss. Participants were purposefully selected, and a coding scheme grounded in a conceptual
framework linking ideology, positionality, and pedagogy guided data analysis. Findings
reveal that although both teachers supported the ideals of inclusion, their practices were
constrained by systemic pressures such as Singapore’s exam-driven culture and institutional
expectations. These factors led to a tension between their inclusive intentions and the realities
of daily teaching, resulting in a reliance on normative pedagogies despite moments of
transformative practice. The study underscores the complexity of implementing inclusive
education in environments where cultural narratives prioritize academic achievement. The
study concludes that teachers’ perceptions and practices are shaped by broader societal and
institutional forces. It calls for targeted professional development to challenge
epistemological assumptions and address systemic barriers. The research offers critical
insights into the enactment of inclusive education in high-performing education systems and
contributes to global efforts to strengthen inclusive practices.

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Dedication
To Prakash – Thank you for always believing in me, supporting me, and cheering me on.
This achievement is as much yours as it is mine. Without you, it would have remained a
dream. Thank you for making it a reality. I love you.
To Teja and Vibhav – Thank you for leading me to this path. Without you both, I would
never have found my way here. Thank you for supporting me, and putting up with me during
the most difficult days of this journey. Your love means the world to me.
To Appa – In loving memory of my dad who dreamed that his daughter would become a
doctor one day. I wish you were here.
To Amma – Thank you for always pushing me to strive higher and study further. Your
encouragement and faith have been pivotal to this journey.

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Acknowledgements
To Dr. Lawrence Picus – Thank you for guiding me and cheering me on. Your feedback
was a tonic that kept me going. Your unwavering support and mentorship throughout this
process have been invaluable. I could not have completed this without the multiple rounds of
edits, proofreads, WhatsApp texts, calls, and emails. I am deeply grateful for your flexibility
in accommodating your schedule to speak with me at odd hours to make up for the time
difference. Your support has been instrumental in helping me cross the finish line.
To Dr. Artineh Samkian – I still remember my first class with you in Urban Education.
Because of you, I felt assured that I had made the right choice in choosing this program. You
are my role model. I hope that one day I will have as much knowledge and clarity of thought
as you do. I also aspire to be as capable as you are in igniting minds and navigating
conversations around equity with thoughtfulness and tact. Thank you for all the wonderful
discussions and thought partnerships—you are truly inspiring.
To Dr. David Cash – You may or may not remember, but you were the first professor I met
during the faculty webinar before choosing this concentration. So, thank you for setting me
on this journey! I am grateful for your time and support throughout this process.
To Dr. Julie Slayton – Your class jolted me out of my comfort zone. You encouraged me to
think beyond the obvious and stretched my mind to explore possibilities I had never
considered. You made me a better researcher, and I am so glad I followed your lead. Thank
you for opening up new vistas I didn’t think were possible—you are amazing.
To Dr. Gregory Franklin– Thank you for cheering me on. Your genuine care in my growth
and development as an educational leader has been inspiring. You have been instrumental in
my desire to move beyond school administration and take the next step in my career.
To Dr. Sierra Senzaki – Thanks for reading through my paper and giving me invaluable
feedback. Grateful for your guidance and timely support.

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Table of Contents
Abstract....................................................................................................................iv
Dedication ................................................................................................................. v
Acknowledgements .................................................................................................. vi
List of Tables............................................................................................................ xi
List of Figures .........................................................................................................xii
List of Abbreviations..............................................................................................xiii
Chapter One: Overview of the Study ......................................................................... 1
Introduction – a World Class Education System..................................................... 2
Meritocracy and Democratic Elitism..........................................................................................4
Ability-Based Tracking..............................................................................................................6
Inclusive Education in Singapore ........................................................................... 8
Problem Statement............................................................................................... 11
Purpose of the Study............................................................................................ 14
Significance of the Study ..................................................................................... 15
Research Questions.............................................................................................. 17
Methods Organization.......................................................................................... 18
Limitations and Delimitations.............................................................................. 20
Definitions........................................................................................................... 21
Chapter Two: Review of the Literature .................................................................... 25
Theorizing Disability ........................................................................................... 26
Critical Disability Studies........................................................................................................29
Critiquing Ableism ..................................................................................................................31
Redefining Dis/Ableism and Education....................................................................................33
Enabling Pedagogies............................................................................................ 36

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Critical pedagogy.....................................................................................................................37
Anti-Oppressive Education ......................................................................................................39
Moving From Theory to Practice ......................................................................... 43
Enabling Conversations – an Ethic of Care...............................................................................47
Teachers Attitudes Toward Inclusion................................................................... 51
Child-Related Variables...........................................................................................................53
Educational Environment-Related Variables ............................................................................54
Teacher-Related Variables.......................................................................................................55
Conceptual Framework........................................................................................ 57
Link Between Ideology, Positionality and Pedagogy ................................................................60
Chapter Three: Methodology ................................................................................... 68
Research Design .................................................................................................. 68
Sample and Population ........................................................................................ 70
Sample Selection .....................................................................................................................72
Instrumentation.................................................................................................... 75
Interview.................................................................................................................................76
Observation .............................................................................................................................77
Ethical considerations.......................................................................................... 79
Data Collection.................................................................................................... 81
Credibility and Trustworthiness........................................................................... 82
Data Analysis ...................................................................................................... 85
Coding Scheme for Interview Data...........................................................................................85
Coding Scheme for Observational Data....................................................................................89
Chapter Four: Findings............................................................................................ 94
Case Study One: Mr. N........................................................................................ 95

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Learning Spaces ......................................................................................................................96
Profile of Classrooms Observed ...............................................................................................97
Findings for Research Question One .................................................................... 98
Value Systems.........................................................................................................................98
Belief Systems.......................................................................................................................102
Attitudes................................................................................................................................105
Experiences With Inclusion ...................................................................................................109
Findings for Research Question Two ................................................................. 111
Normative Pedagogical Practices ...........................................................................................113
Transformative Pedagogical Practices....................................................................................117
Discussions for Case Study One......................................................................... 120
Case Study Two: Ms. A..................................................................................... 123
Learning Spaces ....................................................................................................................126
Profile of Classrooms Observed .............................................................................................126
Findings for Research Question One .................................................................. 126
Value Systems.......................................................................................................................127
Belief Systems.......................................................................................................................131
Attitudes................................................................................................................................135
Experiences With Inclusion ...................................................................................................139
Findings for Research Question Two ................................................................. 142
Normative Pedagogical Practices ...........................................................................................144
Transformative Pedagogical Practices....................................................................................150
Analysis of Mentoring Session...............................................................................................153
Discussions for Case Study Two........................................................................ 157
Cross-Case Analysis.......................................................................................... 160
Perceptions............................................................................................................................160
Practices................................................................................................................................162

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Chapter Five: Discussion ....................................................................................... 166
Discussion of Findings....................................................................................... 167
Teachers’ Perceptions............................................................................................................169
Teachers’ Pedagogical Practices.............................................................................................171
Implications for Practice .................................................................................... 176
Policies..................................................................................................................................179
Practices................................................................................................................................180
Recommendations for Future Research.............................................................. 184
Conclusions....................................................................................................... 186
References............................................................................................................. 188
Appendix A: Information Sheet ............................................................................. 202
Appendix B: Interview Protocol ............................................................................ 204
Appendix C: Observation Guide ............................................................................ 208

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List of Tables
Table 1: Mr. N’s Normative Pedagogical Practices Across Five Hours of Observation 112
Table 2: Mr. N’s Transformative Pedagogical Practices Across Five Hours of 113
Observation
Table 3: Ms. A’s Normative Pedagogical Practices Across Five Hours of Observation 143
Table 4: Ms. A’s Transformative Pedagogical Practices Across Five Hours of 144
Observation

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List of Figures
Figure 1: Evolution of Education System in Singapore 3
Figure 2: Parents Aspirations for Children With SEN 13
Figure 3: Conceptual Framework 63
Figure 4: Purposeful Sample Selection 73
Figure 5: Coding Scheme for Interview Data 89
Figure 6: Coding Scheme for Observational Data 93
Figure 7: Overall Public Attitude toward Persons with Disabilities 178

xiii
List of Abbreviations
ADHD Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder
AEDs Allied Educators
AEDs[LBS] Allied Educators for Learning and Behavior Support
ASD Autism Spectrum Disorder
CRPD Conventions on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities
CDS Critical Disability Studies
DI Differentiated Instruction
DS Disability Studies
DSE Disability Studies in Education
HOD Head of Department
IEP Individualized Education Plan
IRB International Review Board
MOE Ministry Of Education
MSF Ministry of Social and Family Development
NIE National Institute of Education
PE Physical Education
PISA Programme for International Student Assessments
PSLE Primary School Leaving Certificate Examination
SEN Special Educational Needs
SENO Special Education Officers
SPED Special Education
TSNs Teachers Trained in Special Needs
UN United Nations

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Chapter One: Overview of the Study
The small island nation of Singapore, with a land area of just 735.2 square
kilometers, is a cosmopolitan city-state where East meets West. It is a multi-ethnic
and multicultural nation, shaped by the plurality and hybridity of cultures among the
5.9 million people who call it home (Department of Statistics Singapore, 2024).
Singapore has gained prominence as one of the most prosperous nations in Southeast
Asia, with high literacy rates (97%) and a robust per capita gross domestic product
(Department of Statistics Singapore, 2024). With few natural resources to rely on, the
government of Singapore regards education as the cornerstone for developing and
maintaining a skilled workforce essential to the nation’s growth and progress
(Gopinathan, 2013; Sharpe & Gopinathan, 2002). The Education Statistics Digest
2023, published by the Ministry of Education (MOE), states that the Singapore
education system aims to bring out the best in every child, offering multiple pathways
that cater to students with different strengths and interests, with the goal of
developing each child to his or her fullest potential (MOE, 2023). Internationally,
Singapore’s education system and teacher training have been hailed as exemplary due
to the country's high rankings in international assessments (Goodwin et al., 2017).
Singaporean students have consistently outperformed their peers in the Programme
for International Student Assessment (PISA) across mathematics, reading, and
science. The 2022 PISA scores indicated that more students in Singapore were top
performers in at least one subject compared to average scores across Organisation for
Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) countries (OECD, 2023).
Singapore is widely recognized as one of the highest-performing education systems

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and has been used as an exemplar by many countries (Deng & Gopinathan, 2016; DarlingHammond, 2017).
This study aims to analyze inclusive education practices in Singapore from a teacher’s
perspective. As a teacher and leader in the local education system, I have become painfully
aware that it does not adequately support students with varied learning needs (Levan & Tan,
1999). My interest in this field has grown as I seek to understand where and how children
with diverse needs are educated in Singapore. However, before examining inclusive
education in the local context, it is essential to first contextualize Singapore’s journey in
educational reform from a socio-historical perspective. In the following section, I present a
brief history of Singapore’s education policy reform to understand how the nation’s past has
shaped its present policies.
Introduction – a World Class Education System
The nation of Singapore was established in 1965 after its expulsion from Malaysia. At
the time, it experienced political upheaval, and its long-term stability and viability were at
stake. Following the expulsion, Singapore’s first Prime Minister, Lee Kuan Yew, was
determined to transform the country into an economic powerhouse. To achieve the progress
he envisioned, Lee Kuan Yew and his government embraced practices and tactics aligned
with settler colonialism and established an autocratic government driven by his aspirations
and vision (Chan, 1985). Rather than discarding colonial structures, the government
developed and expanded upon colonial legal and legislative customs, advocated for
transparent and upright governance, and sought to institutionalize meritocracy as a
foundational principle (Gopinathan, 2013). During the 1950s and 1960s, as Singapore
confronted challenges such as unemployment and labor unrest, the government intervened
assertively in the market. It assumed multiple roles—facilitator, regulator, and participant—
in striving to revitalize the economy and meet national development goals. This proactive

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stance led to remarkable success, transforming a small island with no natural
resources into a flourishing world-class economy (Chan, 1985; Gopinathan, 2013).
Singapore has consistently championed education as a key driver of progress.
In the early years of industrialization, education policies were geared towards meeting
manpower needs. Today, as the world shifts toward a knowledge-based economy,
Singapore’s education system has evolved to focus on talent development and
nurturing higher-order thinking (Ministry of Education, 2023). Figure 1, produced by
the Ministry of Education, Singapore, illustrates how the education system has
evolved in response to various stages of economic development since 1966.
Figure 1
Evolution of Education System in Singapore
Note. From Ministry of Education, 2023, Pathways and Possibilities: Singapore's Education
Journey

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In his body of work, Gopinathan (2013) traces the trajectory of Singapore’s education
sector. He explains how the nascent Singapore government inherited a fragmented and
underfunded system from the British colonial administration—one that was ill-equipped to
meet the demands of both citizenship and economic development. Lee Kuan Yew envisioned
an educated nation, and through a series of policy reforms, the government established a
centralized education system designed to promote social cohesion and cultivate a skilled
workforce through systematic skills development. Key reforms included the implementation
of a standardized curriculum, the promotion of bilingualism in English and mother tongue
languages, an emphasis on mathematics and science, and a rigorous assessment system
designed to promote merit-based progression. Additional efforts involved recognizing both
aptitude and diligence, fostering parental involvement in education, encouraging
collaboration between schools and industry for post-secondary training, and expanding
university access for citizens. The government also swiftly introduced new programs to adapt
to evolving economic needs. Consistently, it emphasized the role of education in fostering
civic responsibility and moral values as a safeguard against potential threats to the young
nation-state (Gopinathan, 2013).
Meritocracy and Democratic Elitism
Hallmarks of the Singapore education system are meritocracy and an efficiencydriven model that places a high premium on attainment—derivatives of its struggle to survive
and develop as an independent nation (Lim-Ratnam et al., 2016; Sharpe & Gopinathan,
2002). To understand the system, one must first comprehend the principle of meritocracy,
which is deeply woven into national governance and the educational policy narrative. Ho
(2013) explains that, broadly, meritocracy refers to a system in which academic grades are
the primary measure of students' ability and effort, irrespective of their social and economic
backgrounds. Good academic credentials are viewed as a passport to prestigious scholarships,

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promising career prospects, and elevated social and economic status. Proponents of
meritocracy argue that such a system is non-discriminatory, as it allows for equality of access
and opportunity (Ho, 2013). Economic prosperity is regarded as the key to national
survival, and educational goals are tightly aligned with economic needs, placing a
utilitarian value on education—where students are prepared to become future citizens
(Hasan, 2007). Former Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew saw education and meritocracy
as fundamental pillars of Singapore’s political system, stating: “...equality of
opportunity in education, housing, health and so on. And a system based on
meritocracy. That is the basis on which we have had intercommunal harmony and
interreligious tolerance” (Lee, 2011, p. 65).
In Singapore, political power is concentrated within a small, clearly defined
elite group, composed primarily of members of the ruling party that has governed
since the nation's independence in 1965. This ruling party adopts a paternalistic model
of ‘authoritative democracy,’ where citizens defer to a centralized elite who lead,
control, and manage resources through state capitalism (Kenway & Koh, 2013). As a
result, the education system is not only a response to societal needs but also a
reflection of the ruling party’s ideologies and policies. Students are channelled into
different educational tracks based on their academic abilities, which results in a skillbased, top-down “pyramidal structure” comprising “top leaders, good executives,
well-disciplined and highly civic-conscious broad mass” (Lee, 1966, p. 14). The
principles of meritocracy and democratic elitism operate synchronously—meritocracy
is used to justify that those who govern are best qualified for leadership due to their
academic, professional, and commercial success (Kenway & Koh, 2013).
Consequently, the education system functions as a gatekeeper, sorting individuals into
differentiated tracks based on performance in standardized tests. In Singapore’s

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education system, ability tracking is reinforced through curricular differentiation. This
differentiated and deficit-based approach has deleterious effects on students’ selfperception and learning behaviours (Ho, 2013; Kenway & Koh, 2013; Teo, 2019).
Ability-Based Tracking
Singapore’s education system presents an interesting case study with overt tracking
practices that sort and rank students into differentiated academic pathways. These pathways
offer varied access to curriculum, teaching, and learning opportunities to ensure that the
potential of every child is developed to its fullest (Ministry of Education [MOE], 2023). The
aim is to provide differentiated pathways based on academic ability, ensuring that every
Singaporean completes post-secondary education and is equipped with the foundational skills
required to earn a decent living (Goodwin et al., 2017). Students without special educational
needs are streamed into three distinct pathways at the secondary level, based on their
performance in the national Primary School Leaving Examination (PSLE). These pathways
include the elite Integrated Programme track or Express course, which serves approximately
10% to 15% of the cohort; the mainstream academic track or Academic course, which enrolls
about 70% of the cohort; and the vocational track or Technical course, which serves 13% to
15% of students (Ho, 2013; MOE, 2023). From the primary level onwards, students with
moderate to severe disabilities are typically placed in separate special education (SPED)
schools and have limited access to mainstream education (MOE, 2023). In line with the
discourses of meritocracy and democratic elitism, curriculum content and modes of
instruction differ across tracks. The Integrated Programme is designed for elite, cosmopolitan
leaders; the mainstream academic track targets globally oriented but locally rooted mid-level
executives and workers; and the vocational track is tailored for local heartlanders who are
expected to follow directives and maintain social order (Ho, 2013).

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In Singapore, educational attainment is closely linked to social mobility and
economic affluence, placing a high premium on academic success (Ang, 2006; Tan,
2013). Dahlberg et al. (2013) explain how this perspective transforms education into
an economic investment, viewing the child as unfulfilled potential to be developed
into a productive human resource. Ability-based streaming and high-stakes
examinations at the end of primary education have created immense downward
pressure to deliver programmes that acculturate children to meet the rigours of
primary schooling (Ang, 2006, 2014; Choy & Karuppiah, 2016; Lim-Ratnam, 2013).
Sharpe and Gopinathan (2002) highlight how education in Singapore is perceived as
foundational to economic prosperity, ethnic harmony, and national identity. It is
positioned as a vehicle for achieving both individual and national fiscal, vocational,
and utilitarian goals. Importantly, beyond its economic orientation, this outcomedriven approach is also informed by a genuine democratic concern that all citizens
should have an equal starting point in school. This belief is seen as essential in a
heterogeneous society with a high proportion of students from multi-ethnic and
multicultural backgrounds (Gopinathan, 2013; Sharpe & Gopinathan, 2002).
To secure the link between education and the economy, Singapore has
implemented a centralized and standardized curriculum across all mainstream public
schools under the jurisdiction of the MOE. With few exceptions, nearly all
Singaporean students attend state-run schools (Deng & Gopinathan, 2016; Teo, 2019).
Ho (2014) elucidates how market-based principles have led to a strong emphasis on
academic excellence and the acquisition of skills that offer economic advantage.
Good academic credentials are viewed as a passport to prestigious scholarships and
better career opportunities, leading to greater social and economic success. While the
meritocratic approach aspires to raise educational standards and ensure equal access

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for all, intense competition among students and schools has fostered ranking systems that
define and limit individual learning opportunities (Ho, 2014). According to the Education
Statistics Digest 2023, MOE outlines how differentiated pathways are intended to cater to
students’ diverse interests, strengths, and learning needs. Mainstream public schools stream
students based on academic ability, and higher-track pathways offer enhanced access to
higher education compared to lower-track options. Significantly, all students with special
educational needs (SEN) are served in special schools and are not part of the mainstream
public education system (MOE, 2023).
Inclusive Education in Singapore
There has been a surge in conversations around inclusion and inclusive educational
practices worldwide. Education reform is increasingly viewed as a driver of social inclusion,
and as such, inclusive education has become a powerful currency shaping national education
policies globally (Ainscow & Booth, 1998; Allan & Slee, 2008; Armstrong et al., 2010;
Schuelka & Carrington, 2021). The significant rise in global inclusive education policies can
be traced back to the Salamanca Statement and Framework for Action on Special Needs
Education in 1994—a landmark outcome of the World Conference on Special Needs
Education, signed by over 100 countries and international agencies. In Article 24 of the
Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (CRPD), inclusive education is defined
as “systemic reform embodying changes and modifications... with a vision serving to provide
all students of the relevant age with equitable and participatory learning experience and
environment” (United Nations, 2016, p. 4). Since then, there have been notable developments
in inclusive education policy and practice, and over the decades, many nations have
progressively formalized inclusive practices (Allan & Slee, 2008; Schuelka & Carrington,
2021). Schuelka and Carrington (2021) problematize the conceptualization of inclusion by
raising critical questions about its implications for students and the broader purpose of

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education. Referring to this tension as the “paradox of inclusion,” they argue that
education systems often overlook the implications of power and hegemony in
determining who is included or excluded (p. 3). Establishing inclusive educational
systems and practices requires first defining what inclusion means within a specific
society. Strogilos and Avramidis (2017) contend that understandings of inclusion vary
across global contexts, and Armstrong et al. (2010) caution that policies developed
without attending to broader socio-cultural dynamics are unlikely to be effective.
Therefore, implementing international inclusive education policies requires a
pluralistic approach that is responsive to local contexts.
Singapore ratified the United Nations CRPD on 18 August 2013 (Disabled
People’s Association, 2015). The CRPD affirms the fundamental right of persons with
disabilities to be recognized as individuals capable of making decisions about their
lives based on free and informed consent, and to be active participants in society. It
also underscores the right to quality education and the need for full participation, with
appropriate support, within inclusive settings (United Nations, 2023). In Singapore,
this commitment materialized through a policy shift in 2019 when children with
disabilities were included under the Compulsory Education Act. Prior to that, children
with disabilities had been exempted from receiving compulsory education in either
mainstream or special education schools (Poon, 2022). Lee et al. (2022) describe
Singapore’s dual education system, in which mainstream schools are governed by the
Ministry of Education (MOE), while Special Education (SPED) schools are run by
social service agencies regulated by the National Council of Social Service. Currently,
there are 24 government-funded SPED schools in Singapore. The rationale for
separate schools for students with disabilities has become deeply embedded in
policies, school systems, and societal perceptions, largely unchallenged (La Salle &

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Johnson, 2018; MOE, 2023). Students with moderate to severe special educational needs
(SEN) are placed in these separate schools, which follow a distinct curriculum that
emphasizes vocational training and life skills, rather than the national academic curriculum.
Unlike primary schools, SPED schools do not culminate in the Primary School Leaving
Examination (PSLE). Only a small number of students with mild disabilities are supported to
integrate into mainstream primary schools. More recently, some SPED schools have been colocated near mainstream schools to facilitate physical integration during non-curricular
activities (Poon et al., 2013; Strogilos & Lim, 2019; Tan & Konza, 2006; Walker & MustiRao, 2016; Zhuang, 2016).
Poon (2022) notes that the divide between mainstream and SPED schools is systemic,
stemming from the involvement of different agencies and regulatory bodies. This divide is
further entrenched by differences in curricula and the levels of teacher training across both
settings. A significant barrier created by this dual system is that students with SEN rarely
gain access to secondary education, as entry is contingent on passing the PSLE. In this way,
the PSLE functions as a triage mechanism that effectively excludes students with significant
disabilities from progressing within the mainstream system. From this perspective,
Singapore’s education system does not fully support inclusive education but is instead rooted
in an integration model, wherein access is granted only to students who can cope with the
academic rigors of the mainstream.
Despite the dual-track structure and absence of special education legislation,
Singapore has made meaningful advancements in inclusive practices over the past two
decades (Zhuang, 2016). A pivotal moment came in 2004 when Prime Minister Lee Hsien
Loong articulated the government’s commitment to building an inclusive society (Poon et al.,
2013; Strogilos & Lim, 2019; Tan & Konza, 2006; Walker & Musti-Rao, 2016; Zhuang,
2016). Since then, Singapore has released three Enabling Masterplans—between 2007 and

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2011—as national roadmaps to “transform Singapore into a more caring and inclusive
society, where persons with disabilities can fulfill their potential to be integral and
contributing members of society” (Ministry of Social and Family Development
[MSF], 2021). The current and upcoming Masterplans, including the one for 2030,
reflect a pragmatic, multi-sectoral strategy and significant infrastructure investment.
Zhuang (2016) applies social model theory to critique Singapore’s labor-marketoriented inclusion policies, and argues that while these policies focus on maximizing
the productivity of people with disabilities, they also reinforce the individual or
medical model of disability—one that emphasizes personal deficit rather than
systemic reform. The medical model positions the individual as the problem and
justifies exclusion on the basis of ability. Labels such as "special needs" or "special
education" extend this rationale, further legitimizing exclusion from mainstream
schooling and reinforcing social marginalization. According to Zhuang (2016), such
deficit-based views limit educational opportunity and perpetuate structural inequities.
Armstrong et al. (2010) and Schuelka and Carrington (2021) similarly argue that
deficit conceptions and bifurcated systems entrench educational hierarchies and
hegemonic practices, posing serious barriers to meaningful inclusion.
Problem Statement
Strogilos and Lim (2019) and Poon et al. (2013) explain in detail how
Singapore’s national educational policies and practices are not conducive to inclusive
education. The public-school system continues to practice segregation and exclusion
by streaming students with disabilities into special education (SPED) schools. The
Ministry of Education (MOE) rationalizes that separate schools for students with
disabilities allow their diverse learning needs to be better addressed (MOE, 2023).
However, this approach is grounded in the medical model of disability, which

12
classifies and segregates students based on perceived physical or cognitive deficits.
Educational institutions perpetuate this deficit model by categorizing students and
implementing intervention strategies that assume these students must be "fixed" in order to
participate in a system that remains rigid, standardized, and high-pressure (Strogilos & Lim,
2019; Walker & Musti-Rao, 2016; Zhuang, 2016).
The Inclusive Attitudes Survey Part One, commissioned by the Lien Foundation in
2016, revealed a glaring absence of inclusive mindsets and the resulting marginalization of
people with special needs in Singaporean society (Blackbox Research, 2016a). Part Two of
the survey focused on the perceptions of parents of children with special needs. Notably, only
one-third of these parents considered Singapore to be an inclusive society. More than half
indicated that schools were reluctant to admit their children due to their special educational
needs. These findings underscore parents’ pleas for greater support from the government,
society, and the education system (Blackbox Research, 2016b). Figure 2 presents parental
aspirations for integrating their children into the mainstream school system. The
accompanying quote vividly portrays their frustrations, which stem from the lack of pathways
and opportunities for inclusion. The limited provisions for facilitating inclusion reflect the
broader absence of national legislation or mandate to guarantee access to education for all
students, regardless of ability.

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Figure 2
Parents Aspirations for Children With SEN
Note. From Blackbox Research. (2016b). Inclusive Attitudes Survey Part 2
Since 2005, MOE has implemented the Allied Educator (Learning and
Behavioural Support) [AED(LBS)] scheme to support students with mild SEN in
mainstream schools (Yeo et al., 2016). As of 2023, approximately 2,000 allied
educators are deployed across 328 government or government-funded primary
schools, equating to roughly one or two AEDs per school (MOE, 2023). These
numbers highlight the limited in-classroom support available to meaningfully enable
inclusive education. This shortage encapsulates the core problem: despite efforts to
support inclusion, critical gaps remain in policy enactment and everyday practice.
Thaver and Lim (2014) and Yeo et al. (2016) documented educators’ challenges with
implementing inclusion. While most teachers in their studies endorsed inclusion from

14
ideological, theoretical, or philosophical perspectives rooted in social justice and equity, they
expressed deep reservations about the feasibility of inclusive education in practice.
Commonly cited barriers included insufficient training, a lack of pedagogical strategies for
diverse learners, and inadequate classroom support (Poon et al., 2016; Thaver & Lim, 2014;
Yeo et al., 2016).
Inclusive education does not exist in a vacuum. It is deeply embedded in the sociocultural, historical, and political fabric of a nation’s education system. As Armstrong et al.
(2010) and Schuelka and Carrington (2021) emphasize, research on inclusion must be
grounded in the specific contexts in which policies are enacted and practices evolve. In
Singapore, where inclusion coexists with a dual-track education system and entrenched
meritocratic norms, understanding how inclusive education is interpreted and practiced by
teachers becomes especially critical. This qualitative study has two primary objectives: (1) to
understand the perceptions of primary school teachers regarding inclusion in the unique
context of Singapore, and (2) to explore how these perceptions are reflected in their
pedagogical and curricular practices. Inclusive educational practices in this study are
examined through the lenses of societal norms, cultural beliefs, economic priorities, national
policies, institutional power, and intersectionality. Through semi-structured interviews with
teachers and classroom observations, the study aims to establish connections between
teachers’ perceptions and their enacted practices in the classroom.
Purpose of the Study
Maxwell (2013) emphasizes the importance of articulating personal, practical, and
intellectual goals in qualitative research. My impetus for undertaking this study is deeply
rooted in a personal aspiration to deepen my understanding of inclusive practices in
Singapore and to support teachers in embracing inclusive education within their classrooms.
Concurrently, my practical objective is to explore how teachers’ perceptions influence their

15
pedagogical approaches. I hope that the insights gleaned from this study will inform
the reconfiguration of teacher support systems, ultimately contributing to the creation
of more equitable and inclusive learning environments. This research represents an
attempt to grasp the complex realities of inclusion in Singapore. I adopt a stance of
“critical realism” (Maxwell, 2013, p. 43) to examine how teachers’ perceptions of
inclusion are shaped by their lived experiences within the broader socio-cultural
context.
The purpose of this study is to unravel the discursive layers that inform
attitudes toward inclusive education, with a particular focus on the role of educators
in enabling inclusive practices in the classroom. Rather than focusing solely through
the microscopic lens of teacher training, attitudes, or beliefs, this study aims to
conceptualize teachers’ perceptions of inclusion as the outcome of dynamic
interactions between social, cultural, economic, and political forces. It draws upon
existing research that highlights how cultural and demographic factors moderate
teacher attitudes, in order to develop a more complex and situated understanding of
teachers’ perspectives within a sociocultural-historical framework (Dignath et al.,
2022; van Steen & Wilson, 2020; Yada et al., 2022). This study acknowledges
teachers as key agents in promoting inclusion, while also recognizing that their beliefs
and practices are shaped—and often constrained—by institutional, political, and
socio-cultural structures.
Significance of the Study
van Steen and Wilson (2020) and Dignath et al. (2022) highlight a significant
knowledge gap in the underlying factors that shape teachers’ attitudes toward
inclusion—factors which, if left unexamined, could limit the effectiveness of
interventions and training intended to promote inclusive practices. As van Steen and

16
Wilson (2020) explain, “attitudes towards inclusion do not occur in a vacuum, but are a
product of societal, and possibly historical, artifacts that shape society and inform values” (p.
10). However, they argue that cross-cultural studies on teachers’ attitudes toward inclusion
have often neglected the influence of broader cultural and contextual factors. In Singapore,
existing research on teachers’ perceptions of inclusive education reveals attitudes that range
from indifferent to resistant. These attitudes are often shaped by limited knowledge, lack of
experience, and practical implementation challenges (Thaver & Lim, 2014; Yeo et al., 2016).
While many educators express support for inclusion from an ideological or equity-based
standpoint, they also report substantial reservations about its day-to-day implementation,
frequently citing inadequate classroom support. Some educators are uncomfortable working
with students with special needs and believe that these students are better placed in special
education (SPED) schools (Poon et al., 2016; Thaver & Lim, 2014; Yeo et al., 2016).
Schuelka and Carrington (2021) call for transformative research in inclusive
education—research that not only centers the voices of participants but also critically engages
with the specific social, political, and cultural contexts in which inclusion is enacted. In
Singapore, there is a growing body of literature that examines teachers’ attitudes and
perceptions toward inclusion (Poon et al., 2016; Thaver & Lim, 2014; Yeo et al., 2016), as
well as research that traces the historical and policy-based roots of inclusive education
(Strogilos & Lim, 2019; Walker & Musti-Rao, 2016; Zhuang, 2016). However, there remains
a paucity of research that bridges these two strands—studies that critically examine how
sociocultural and historical factors influence teachers’ understandings and enactments of
inclusion. This study seeks to address this gap by drawing attention to the broader ecosystem
in which teachers’ perceptions and practices are embedded. National policies, societal norms,
belief systems, historical trajectories, educational contexts, and school-level practices all
converge to shape how teachers conceptualize inclusive education. Understanding this

17
interplay is essential to developing policies and professional development frameworks
that support sustainable, contextually grounded inclusive practices in Singaporean
classrooms.
Research Questions
This study is situated in Singapore and aims to answer the following
questions:
1. What are two Primary school teachers' perceptions regarding inclusive education in
Singapore?
2. How are their perceptions revealed in their pedagogical practices and curricular
choices?
The study attempts to shine a spotlight on inclusive education in Singapore
from the perspective of Primary school teachers. The study explores how teachers
adapt their teaching methods to accommodate students with diverse learning needs or
how they foster a sense of belonging among all students in the classroom.
Understanding how inclusion is perceived and reflected in these practices is the main
focus, rather than establishing a causal relationship between teacher attitude and
pedagogical practice (Allan & Slee, 2008). Janesick (1977) defined teacher
perspectives as "a reflective, socially defined interpretation of experience that serves
as a basis for subsequent action…a combination of beliefs, intentions, interpretations,
and behavior that interact continually" (as cited in Clark & Peterson, 1986, p. 287).
Perspectives are situation-specific and action-oriented. Unlike beliefs or attitudes,
which Tabacbnick & Zeichner (1984) perceived as little more than opinions, they
defined perspectives as "ways in which teachers thought about their work (e.g.,
purposes, goals, conceptions of children, curriculum) and how they gave meaning to
these beliefs by their behavior the classroom" (p.28). Therefore, the link between

18
teachers' perceptions and classroom practices can inform educators, educational institutions,
and policymakers on how inclusion policies can be effectively implemented to benefit and
enhance learning and a sense of belonging for students with Special Education Needs (SEN).
In order to enable and empower teachers to make appropriate pedagogical decisions, they
should be informed how their epistemologies and positionalities impact their perceptions and
practices. Teachers are fundamental to the success or failure of any education system. It is
critical and crucial to consider their worldviews and lived experiences when analyzing
inclusive education implementation, enactment, and outcomes.
The Primary school phase is a unique learning journey that requires a collaborative
effort from students, teachers, and parents. It is a phase that transitions from foundational
learning in the early years to a more practical approach in secondary school. In Singapore,
Primary school is the start of compulsory education, laying the groundwork for a lifelong
learning journey. This phase, from exploratory learning in Primary One to high-stakes exams
in Primary Six, is a time when students and teachers work closely to understand a student's
strengths and abilities. As teachers' assessments during this period can have a long-term
impact on a student's learning trajectory, it becomes crucial to understand how teachers
perceive the students they work with and how they assess them. As Walker and Musti-Rao
(2016) postulate, "an inclusive society is difficult to create when the youngest members of
society are separated beginning in the earliest years of their education" (p. 39).
Methods Organization
The study sought to understand primary school teachers’ perceptions of inclusive
education and how their perceptions were revealed in their practices. To answer the research
questions, I conducted a qualitative study in a mainstream primary school that admitted
students with hearing loss (HL). The selected school was the only inclusive school for
students with HL in Singapore. During the school day, students with HL used assistive

19
technologies such as hearing aids or cochlear implants and were supported by
therapists and audiologists alongside mainstream teachers in their learning. In
addition to students with HL, the school also had students with other learning needs
such as Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), Autism Spectrum Disorder
(ASD), and Global Developmental Delay (GDD), among others. The study aimed to
understand how mainstream teachers who worked closely with students with HL and
other learning needs perceived inclusive education, and how they adjusted their
curriculum or pedagogical practices to support the learning of students with special
educational needs (SEN).
I selected the research participants based on specific criteria to ensure that the sample
was representative of the population of teachers employed in primary schools across the
nation (Merriam & Tisdell, 2015). To address the initial inquiry into teachers’ perceptions of
inclusive education in Singapore, I conducted semi-structured interviews to understand the
development of their ideologies through personal experiences. To answer the second question
of how their perceptions were revealed in their practices, I conducted two non-participant
observations, which provided enough information to draw inferences about their perspectives
that could not be obtained from the initial interviews alone. As Maxwell (2013) explained,
using multiple methods allowed me to gain information about different aspects of the
phenomenon. Combining interviews and observations enabled me to develop a tacit
understanding of teachers’ perspectives, especially aspects that participants were reluctant to
express directly in interviews. Maxwell (2013) used the terms complementary and expansion
to describe how different methods could broaden the range of aspects or phenomena (p. 102).
Combining data collection methods provided divergent perspectives on the teachers’
perceptions and practices. I believed that by capturing different findings through various
methods, I would be compelled to engage with those differences and re-examine my

20
understanding. Through the process of this study, I aimed to collect detailed, richly
descriptive data focused on the particularities of teachers’ perceptions of inclusion in the
local context and to gather a “thick description” of human interactions in that context (Agee,
2009, p. 434).
Limitations and Delimitations
This qualitative inquiry was rooted in the principle of constructivism. Patton (2002)
elucidated how “social construction, or constructivist philosophy, is built on the thesis of
ontological relativity” (p. 97). In other words, constructivism dealt with the multiple realities
constructed by people and the implications of those constructions for their lives and
interactions with others. Therefore, all tenable statements depended on worldview. It was
important to note that two people living in the same empirical world could have different
worldviews. Then, the key question to address was how adopting a constructionist
perspective impacted the current study. Although I tried to adopt a triangulation of data and
methods to increase the trustworthiness and credibility of the study (Merriam & Tisdell,
2015), it could not provide an “objective assessment” (Patton, 2002, p. 98) and also could not
be used to arrive at a singular conclusion using linear prediction. The findings of this study
were limited to the setting and the population it examined and could not be generalized to
other settings in Singapore. Specifically, given that the site selected for study was the only
inclusive mainstream primary school in Singapore for students with HL, the experiences and
the perspectives of the teachers in this study could not be generalized across other
mainstream schools that might or might not have students with other kinds of disabilities.
Patton (2002) and Maxwell (2013) argued that the value of the qualitative study might
depend on its lack of external generalizability in the sense of being representative of the
larger population.

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In a qualitative study, the researcher and their interactions were pivotal to data
collection. As Maxwell (2013) aptly put it, “the researcher is the instrument and the
research relationships are the means by which research gets done” (p. 91). The
relationships I fostered with the study’s participants were not just a component of my
research but a fundamental part of the study. I was acutely aware that these
relationships were integral to the research design decisions and could significantly
influence the data. Maxwell (2013) explained the symbiotic relationship between the
researcher and the social world—and the way they shaped and influenced each
other—as “reflexivity” (p. 90). Such relationships had an impact not only on the
participants in the study but also on me as a researcher and as a human being
Definitions
The following section elucidates the definitions of words or phrases used throughout
this study.
Disability. Carol Thomas (2004) reviewed literature from both disability studies and
medical sociology to explore contemporary meanings of disability and to address the
fundamental question: What is disability? Thomas drew on the work of Vic Finkelstein, a key
figure in the development of the social model of disability, which conceptualizes society as
instrumental in disabling people with impairments through mechanisms of isolation and
exclusion from full participation. This perspective is contrasted with the view from medical
sociology, as articulated by Michael Bury, who argued that disability is both biologically and
socially caused, with primary emphasis placed on the former. Thomas (2004) proposed a
social relational definition, asserting that disability arises only when the restrictions
experienced by individuals with impairments are socially imposed. In contrast, the non-social
aspects of these restrictions are more accurately described as impairment effects rather than
disability itself. From this standpoint, “disability is a form of social oppression involving the

22
social imposition of restrictions of activity on people with impairments and the socially
engendered undermining of the psycho-emotional wellbeing” (Thomas, 2004, p. 580)..
Hearing Loss. In Singapore, hearing loss (HL) is used to describe the condition of
hearing impairment or deafness (Ho et al., 2018; Looi et al., 2016). The primary school staff
and students in this study used the term “students with hearing loss” to refer to students who
use assistive technologies such as hearing aids or cochlear implants. The terms “deaf” or
“Deaf person” were deliberately avoided. As Davis (1995) explained, “The Deaf [are] a
community of deaf people who share language, cultural values, history, and social life. The
deaf are simply those who do not hear” (p. 100). My review of the literature in Singapore
revealed only a clinical definition of hearing loss. Ho et al. (2018) referred to the definition
provided by the World Health Organization (WHO) in 2012, which described hearing loss
“as a person having hearing loss worse than 40 dB in the better hearing ear” (p. 291). Looi et
al. (2016) noted that in Singapore, cochlear implant procedures began in 1997, and Universal
Newborn Hearing Screening commenced only in 2002. Data collected between 2002 and
2004 indicated that 4 in 1,000 children experienced HL, with 1.7 per 1,000 having severe or
profound HL. For the purposes of this study, I used the term hearing loss (HL) to refer to
students who were part of the Deaf community or who had some form of hearing impairment.
Inclusive Education. or the purpose of this study, I adopted the definition put forth
by Waitoller and Kozleski (2017), who conceptualized inclusive education as a threedimensional construct of social justice: “Inclusive education should be based on
redistributing quality educational opportunities for all students (dimension of redistribution),
recognizing and valuing all students' differences (dimension of recognition), and on creating
spaces for families and students to participate in the decisions that affect their learning
trajectories (dimension of representation)” (p. 27).

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Primary School. Primary schools in Singapore are mandated under the Compulsory
Education Act and are regulated by the Ministry of Education (MOE). At the primary level,
all students undergo a compulsory six-year course designed to provide a solid educational
foundation. Students are enrolled in Primary 1 upon turning seven years old. In Primary 6, at
the end of primary education, 12-year-old students sit for the Primary School Leaving
Examination (PSLE)—a high-stakes examination that evaluates their learning and directs
them toward differentiated secondary school courses through subject-based banding (MOE,
2023).
Special Education (SPED). The MOE’s goal for students with special educational
needs (SEN) is to enable each student to maximize their potential and lead an independent
and meaningful life in society. Students with SEN who possess the cognitive abilities and
adaptive skills to access the national curriculum and mainstream learning environments are
supported in mainstream schools. Those with higher support needs, who require more
intensive and specialized assistance, are supported in government-funded SPED schools
(MOE, 2023).
SPED Schools. Nationwide, there are 24 SPED schools serving students with a range
of SEN profiles. These schools follow MOE’s SPED Curriculum Framework—a customized
curriculum designed for diverse learners. Supported by strong community partnerships,
SPED schools aim to help students achieve the desired outcomes in Living, Learning, and
Working, with the goal of integration into society and the pursuit of independent and
meaningful lives (MOE, 2023). The Disability Trends Report outlined how MOE has
collaborated with Social Service Agencies (SSAs) to improve the accessibility, affordability,
and quality of SPED schools. First, to improve accessibility, MOE has worked with SSAs to
establish more SPED schools, including three new schools set up in 2023. By 2030, the total
number of SPED schools is expected to increase to 28. Second, to enhance affordability, the

24
maximum monthly school fees for Singaporean students in government- and communityfunded SPED schools will be reduced to $90 by mid-2025. Third, to enhance quality, the
SPED Teaching and Learning Syllabuses were fully rolled out in 2024 to guide schools in
delivering high-quality, customized curricula. MOE is also working with SSAs to
professionalize the sector, for example through the SPED Leadership Development
Programme and SPED Communities of Practice—initiatives introduced in 2024 to cultivate
leadership and deepen professional expertise (MSF, 2024).
Student With Special Education Needs. According to Singapore’s Ministry of
Education, a student with special educational needs (SEN) is one who has been diagnosed
with a disability, demonstrates learning needs that differ from most peers of the same age,
struggles to access the educational environment in similar ways to peers, or faces challenges
in social, academic, physical, or sensory functioning—and thus requires additional resources
beyond those typically provided in educational settings (Poon, 2022).

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Chapter Two: Review of the Literature
The objective of the literature review is to synthesize the body of research on
the history and development of educational policies and practices in Singapore, and
analyze how these macro level policies, beliefs and value systems influence educators
perceptions and practices at a micro level. This paper aims to study educators'
perceptions of inclusive education within the cultural context of Singapore and
against the backdrop of national policies, social beliefs, and practices. By pursuing a
vein of critical inquiry, the study aims to shift the focus of analysis from the
individual, to deepening our understanding of how the cultural-historical contexts
shape the way we respond and react in the present.
The aim is to draw attention to the ecosystem that surrounds teachers. It
considers a wide range of factors, including national policies, societal norms, belief
systems, historical and educational contexts, and school policies. The aim is to
analyze how these factors impact the conceptualizations of school teachers and how
they are reflected in their classroom practices and curricular decisions. The study
moves beyond the singular focus on teachers’ attitudes in the classroom, drawing
upon existing research that an interplay of cultural and demographic factors
moderates teachers’ attitudes. This approach provides a more complex view of
teachers’ perceptions within a larger system informed by sociocultural-historical
factors (Pajares, 1992; van Steen & Wilson, 2020).
The literature review uses three varied lenses to comprehend how to answer
the question regarding teachers’ perceptions towards inclusive education and how it is
reflected in their pedagogical practices. The first lens is literature from critical
disability theory to analyze hegemonic educational practices, scrutinize social norms
that define disabilities, and deconstruct social conditions that marginalize certain

26
members of the population. Next, the lens of critical pedagogy is used to analyze practices
within the classrooms and how it can be used as a “North Star” to guide educators to embrace
democratic, equitable, and inclusive teaching practices within the classroom (Love, 2019, p.
132). The final lens is literature about teachers’ attitudes towards inclusive education and
how it is productive of practice.
Theorizing Disability
The literature review aims to unpack the emergence and the need for Critical
Disability Studies (CDS) as a nomenclature and how, if at all, it has improved the
engagement of people with disabilities. Goodley et al. (2019) posit that the purpose of theory
is to understand and intervene in the social world and to establish an alliance with praxis.
Eminent scholar C. Wright Mills (1959) uses the term “sociological imagination”’ to describe
how we can employ scholarship to deconstruct individual life narratives that are shaped and
influenced by complex social and political dynamics of the larger culture (as cited in Connor
et al., 2015).
Shildrick (2019) posits that irrespective of our physical embodiment, we all play a
role in perpetuating normative assumptions, a key challenge in the discourse surrounding
disability. Consequently, there is a pressing need to reassess and interrogate this issue not
only from an ethical standpoint but also from an ontological perspective. Shildrick (2019)
presents CDS as the theoretical construct that challenges existing doxa about the nature of
disability and conventional beliefs of embodiment, agency, and identity, as they affect all
living beings. In their seminal work, Meekosha and Shuttleworth (2009) question whether
CDS represents a natural progression or maturation of the field or if it genuinely catalyzes a
paradigm shift in our comprehension of disability. To critically examine disability theory, it
is imperative to trace back to its origins and dissect the evolution of our conceptualizations of
disability.

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The Oxford English Dictionary (2007:556) defines disability as:
1. a) Lack of ability (to discharge any office or function); inability, incapacity; weakness. b.
An instance of lack of ability. Chiefly in pl. Now rare.
2. A physical or mental condition that limits a person’s movements, senses, or activities; (as
a mass noun) the fact or state of having such a condition.
3. Incapacity in the eye of the law, or created by the law; a restriction framed to prevent any
person or class of persons from sharing in duties or privileges which would otherwise be
open to them; legal disqualification (as cited in Mallett & Runswick-Cole, 2014, p. 3).
Mallett & Runswick-Cole (2014) elucidate how the three definitions -
individual, medical, and legal – reflect the understanding of disability as what a
person lacks or cannot do medically or legally. It deems disability as a functional
limitation that is biologically or physiologically determined, emphasizing the deficits
and the ability to lead a ‘normal’ life. A pivotal contribution that marked a turning
point in our understanding of disability from a socio-political perspective was the
publication entitled Fundamental Principals of Disability by the Union of the
Physically Impaired against Segregation (UPIAS) (Mallett & Runswick-Cole, 2014;
Oliver, 2013). The UPIAS document drew a fundamental distinction between the
biological and the social, leading to the notion of impairment as a disadvantage or
restriction of activity caused by society, therefore making it a form of oppression
(Mallett & Runswick-Cole, 2014). The revisionist views led to the emergence of the
social model of disability, which argued that people were not disabled by their
impairments but by the way society responded to them (Oliver, 2014). The early
1980s witnessed the emergence of the individual and social models of disability. The
social model became a vehicle for developing a collective disability consciousness
and, in turn, strengthened the disabled people’s movement (Oliver, 2013). Oliver

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(2014) explains that using the social model as a heuristic tool enabled others to shift the focus
away from the limitations of the individual and look instead at the barriers imposed on the
individuals by society through environments, attitudes, and cultures. Despite its limitations,
the social model of disability has been a powerful tool in deconstructing notions of disability
and has led to the advancement of the field of Disability Studies. It was instrumental in a
paradigmatic shift in the discussion about disabilities and impacted how disabled people
viewed themselves (Mallett & Runswick-Cole, 2014; Shakespeare, 2013).
The field of Disabilities Studies (DS) emerged in academia as a challenge to the
scientific, medical, and psychological models of disability that dominated theories and
practices in field of education, health, social policies, and legislative discourses, to name a
few (Baglieri et al., 2011; Connor et al., 2008; Erevelles, 2011; Goodley, 2013; Goodley et
al., 2018, 2019; Mallett & Runswick-Cole, 2014; Meekosha & Shuttleworth, 2009; Oliver,
2013; 2014; Shakespeare, 2013; Shildrick, 2019; Thomas, 2012). Meekosha and Shuttleworth
(2009) explain that the limitations of medical and individual pathology models of disability
fail to fully explain the experiences of disabled people and their participation in society. As a
result, various explanatory paradigms, particularly in the humanities and social sciences, have
emerged. The social model of disability (DS) views disability as a social construct resulting
from oppressive social arrangements and a civil/human rights issue. This model was inspired
by the rights movement in the United States and the United Kingdom during the 1970s. The
origin of DS is rooted in politicization, activism, and engagement of people with disabilities
and is grounded in its commitment to social and political transformation (Baglieri et al.,
2011; Connor et al., 2008; Goodley, 2013). The DS movement moved disability from the
margins of social sciences to a transdisciplinary space by breaking boundaries,
deconstructing distinctions, and decolonizing traditionalist medicalized views of disabilities
with socio-cultural conceptions (Thomas, 2012). Succinctly, DS rejects any model that

29
locates the problem within the person. Disability is presented as a sociological
concept that argues that impairment is a fact of life, whereas disability is a social and
cultural representation. The determined promotion of DS has led to considerable
material gains for disabled people, with many countries passing legislations that
undercut discrimination and promote inclusive organization of social life (Shildrick,
2019).
Critical Disability Studies
Thomas (2012) defines disablism “as a social imposition of available
restrictions on the life activities, aspirations, and psycho-emotional well-being of
people categorized as impaired by those deemed normal” (p. 211). The definition
highlights the social-relational nature of disablism and its intersectionality with other
forms of social oppression like sexism, racism, ageism, and homophobia. Shildrick
(2019) elucidates how the definition of disability, regarding its boundaries and
interpretations, undergoes significant variations across sociohistorical and geopolitical
contexts. Additionally, intersectional factors like age, ethnicity, race, and gender
introduce complexities, rendering a reductionist, universal approach to disability
inadequate. Erevelles (2011) emphasizes the importance of framing disability as the
central focus of analysis, suggesting it as a vital ideological foundation for reshaping
societal hierarchies concerning race, gender, and sexuality. This perspective also
highlights its interconnectedness with the economic and social forces influenced by
the historical framework of transnational capitalism.
CDS is an emancipatory practice and developing discourse that untangles the
socio-political constructions of disability (Hall, 2019). Meekosha & Shuttleworth
(2009) succinctly explain that CDS emerged partly as an outcome of the tensions and
impasse in the field due to the dichotomous discourses of the medical or social model

30
of disability, and in part as a reaction to the materialist approach to disability. The literature
on CDS posits that it goes beyond the theories of the social model of DS by incorporating a
more complex understanding of disability as a form of oppression, seeking a social
transformative perspective (Goodley, 2013; Goodley et al., 2018; Meekosha & Shuttleworth,
2009; Shildrick, 2019). CDS as a paradigm signifies an implicit understanding that the terms
of engagement have shifted to another plane of development – one that looks at disability
beyond the social, economic, and political to embrace psychological, cultural, discursive, and
carnal. Goodley et al. (2012) explain how the intersectional character of disability led to the
conceptualization and the influence of critical theory in disability studies. They posit that
CDS starts with a disability but never ends with it. Disability, they argue, offers a space from
which to think through issues using a transdisciplinary approach. Critical disability theory
enhances our awareness of inequality. It permits us new ways of thinking about disability by
shifting our focus away from the perceived pathologies of disabled people upheld by an
ableist culture. The word ‘critical’ denotes a sense of self-appraisal, reflection, and reassessment of where we have come from, where we are at, and where we are headed
(Goodley, 2013). CDS is a burgeoning field of theorizing and activism that welcomes debate,
discord, and disagreement to promote counter-hegemonic understandings of disability.
Meekosha and Shuttleworth (2009) expound that critical theory is grounded by key principles
in its application for the emancipation of marginalized groups. As a theory, it is selfconscious about its historicity, its engagement in dialogue among cultures, its irreducibility to
facts, and its link with praxis in revealing the power dynamics within societies that are
manifested at both individual and societal levels. Foucault’s (1977) innovative understanding
of power/knowledge continues to steer the course of CDS in critically scrutinizing
organizations and practices to reveal procedures and systems that classify, normalize, and
control anomalous body subjects through governmentality. The aim of CDS is to unsettle the

31
entrenched putative divide and offer analysis for the construction and perpetuation of
reductive definitions between the abled and disabled (Shildrick, 2019).
Critiquing Ableism
Goodley et al. (2019) refer to ability as the elephant in the room whenever we
evoke the sign of disability. Davis (1995) argues that we can better understand the
concept of disability by examining the construction of normalcy, a pervasive term in
modern society. He posits that the implications of the hegemony of normalcy are
profound and are the heart of cultural reproduction. The work of Shildrick (2012)
urges us to consider how disabled bodies challenge normative ideas of ablebodiedness, thereby necessitating new ways of engaging them in the social settings
they inhabit. Shildrick (2012) contends that any compromise to the valued attributes
of autonomy and agency of mental or physical organization causes deep-seated
anxiety in the normative majority. The anxiety spawns a distinct separation between
self and other, leading to the rejection and devaluation of those who are anomalously
embodied. Consequently, any advocacy for equal rights for disabled people instills
fear and is met with resistance as it contests the normative foundations of culture and
society. Goodley (2013) presents the argument for theorizing the body as “the place
where self and society interact” (p. 635). Goodley et al. (2019) call for studying
disability in conjunction with hidden referents of able-bodied/minded people.
However, the latter is assumed to exist as a naturalized society group. They argue that
disability becomes known as a malfunction of ability, and therefore, it is essential to
pull ability into the foreground to probe the narratives of disability. They refer to the
dual analysis as “dis/ability complex: a phenomenon that acknowledges the mutually
inclusive socio-political practices associated with the conceptual co-constitution of
disability and ability” (p. 986).

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As a lens, CDS assists in analyzing and deconstructing concepts on internalized
ableism, which, at a basic level, is discrimination based on ability – perceived or actual.
Campbell (2008) presents ableism as an epistemological and ontological construct that
frames an individual’s subjectivity and thus becomes the power that subjugates, stigmatizes,
and systemically excludes non-normative embodied minds. Campbell’s (2008) work has been
influential in shifting the focus from disablism to problems arising from ableist normativity.
Campbell (2008) argues that disablism, ethnicity, gender, sexuality, class, and other identities
converge to share an Other space to the dominant same, which is founded upon ableist,
heteronormative, white, upper-middle-class adult from the high-income nations of the global
north. Extending on this convergence argument, Goodley (2013) views CDS as a tool to
explain how these matrices of dominance promote ableist values while simultaneously
justifying forms of oppression like disablism, racism, and homophobia, to name a few, that
negate bodies placed in the Other category. Critical studies of ableism urge us to unpack the
dominant cultural imaginaries and socio-political conditions that uphold ability as the central
marker of human accomplishment and progression. Campbell (2008) maintains that ableism
is a network of beliefs, processes, and practices that exemplifies a perfect, species-typical
corporeal standard that is fully human. Disability, therefore, is cast as a diminished state of
this ableist standard.
The chief feature of the ableist perspective is that impairment is inherently negative
and needs to be cured, ameliorated, or eliminated. Campbell (2008) contends that the desire
to emulate the norm leads to a process of disavowal—an attempt to establish and maintain a
wide gap between their current state and their desired state. Erevelles (2011) warns of the
material effects of ableism that result in the removal and the erasure of disability in social
practices that purport to be inclusive. Erevelles (2011) explains how the precondition of
inclusion of disabled individuals requires their assimilation via special education or

33
rehabilitation and, in the worst cases, annihilation through euthanasia. The argument,
therefore, is that disabled people internalize negative ontologies of disability and continue in
a docile and pliable manner to inhibit performances of their disability in order to gain
the acceptance demanded by the normative society. People with disabilities find
themselves ensnared in a dilemma where they must demonstrate participation in an
able-bodied world to access the advantages associated with disability, all the while
striving for normative acceptance or, at the very least, achieving a state of passing
(Erevelles, 2011). Internalized ableism dictates that individuals with disabilities must
adopt, and even embody, an identity that diverges from their own in order to fit into
the societal norm. This requirement is continually reinforced by prevailing
epistemological frameworks and individuals with hegemonic views of ableism
(Campbell, 2008; Erevelles, 2011). To summarize, ableism, functioning as both an
epistemological and ontological framework, shapes an individual’s sense of self,
essentially serving as the force that influences one’s development, compliance, and
defiance.
Redefining Dis/Ableism and Education
Within education, ableism can manifest subtly by reinforcing attitudes and
beliefs that prioritize able-bodied or neurotypical viewpoints. Goodley et al. (2019)
elucidate how educational institutions are structured around tightly regulated
principles and policy discourses that uphold and valorize individual accomplishment
and advancement. They detail how categories of impairment and disability are
constructed within schools through the constant presence of various paraprofessionals such as therapists, psychologists, social workers, and behavioral
specialists tasked with addressing disabilities. Schuelka and Carrington (2021)
challenge the conventional understanding of inclusive education and its ramifications

34
for students, particularly in defining the purpose and beneficiaries of education. They argue
that inclusion narratives often neglect the inherent power dynamics and hegemonic influences
within education systems, which dictate who is included or excluded. Schuelka and
Carrington (2021) present research from around the globe to showcase how educational
systems have failed to move past elitism and critically examine historical legacies that
predeterminate, sort, and marginalize students based on their abilities. They question the
validity of education systems that feature failure, expulsion, and ability grouping based on a
one-size-fits-all curricular and pedagogical structure. Erevelles (2000) explains how
educational institutions play a pivotal role in educating students on how to control and
discipline their bodies to not distract them from the mental efforts of the mind, with
overriding emphasis on discipline, organization of time and space, and control of curriculum.
The notion of “minding bodies” (p. 33) bespeaks most accurately and succinctly to the
intersection of knowledge, power, and dominance in the cultural reproduction of ableism.
While DS and CDS have grown and evolved as an interdisciplinary and international
field of studies, Disability Studies in Education (DSE) emerged as a discipline to reach
beyond the parochial and narrow constructs of disability. DSE aimed to expand
understanding of the daily experiences of people identified as disabled in educational
institutions within social, cultural, and historical contexts (Connor et al., 2008). DSE
examines how schooling and disability intersect across all grade levels from kindergarten to
higher education. The tenets of DSE revolve around engagement in research, policy, and
praxis that i) contextualize disability within political and social spheres; ii) privilege the
interest, agendas, and voices of the people labeled as disabled; iii) promote social justice,
equitable educational opportunities, and complete and meaningful access for people who are
labeled as disabled to all aspects of society; iv) assume competence and reject deficit models
of disability (Connor et al., 2008). Scholars in the field of DSE have contested the

35
characterization of differences as disabilities, viewing it as laden with subjective
values and serving as a form of social negation that aligns with powerful ideological
agendas and political objectives. (Baglieri et al., 2011; Connor et al., 2008). Lupold
(2020) explicates how DSE seeks to disrupt conventional theoretical frameworks and
practical interventions in education and rehabilitation services by prioritizing the
perspectives and needs of disabled individuals. DSE amplifies diverse viewpoints,
challenging prevailing notions of disability while criticizing special education for its
detachment from the lived realities of disabled students and their families. Power
relations, therefore, remain a central focus of DSE, along with the interrogation of the
various inequities in the social system (such as race, gender, sexuality, class,
nationality, religion, or ethnicity) and how they intersect with disability.
Extending on this line of inquiry, Erevelles (2000) spells out how, within the
realm of education, disability has been used to justify the establishment of segregated
regular and special education initiatives, which assign students marked by race, class,
and gender to lower academic tracks, perpetuating oppressive systems within the
educational framework. Erevelles (2000) presses for (re)writing the theoretical terrain
of critical pedagogy from the disability standpoint. Erevelles (2000) posits that
recognizing how educational institutions have historically used the concept of
intelligence or ability to rationalize inequalities based on race, gender, and
socioeconomic status within schools and society at large will lead to building a
potential connection between the concept of disability and other forms of social
oppression. In light of this observation, Erevelles (2000) encourages us to
contemplate how critical educational theory could adapt its inquiries to acknowledge
this correlation and what benefits might arise from such investigations. Similarly,
Goodley et al. (2019) encourage viewing disability as a place of possibility and

36
opportunity. They advocate for positioning disability as a foundational element in reshaping
boundaries and unlocking radical possibilities within critical theory and pedagogy. By
assessing the collective potential of this field in addressing social inequalities, they argue for
embracing disability as a central focus for transformative action. Goodley et al. (2019) raise
critical questions to rethink narratives of ability and disability in education by applying the
lens of critical pedagogy. They claim that the reinvention of dis/ability can be a stimulant to
shake up pedagogy, rethink classrooms, re-design playgrounds, re-engage parents, re-design
school leadership, and reorient education.
Enabling Pedagogies
Giroux (2010) posits that education cannot be neutral. It consistently aims to guide
students towards adopting a specific form of agency, fostering comprehension of the broader
world and their place within it. On the contrary, when wielded as a tool of dominance,
education encourages students' gullibility, often with the covert ideological purpose of
indoctrinating them to conform to oppressive societal norms—a motive frequently
overlooked by educators (Freire, 2014). Therefore, pedagogy, by nature, is inherently
directive (Giroux, 2010). On the contrary, enabling pedagogies challenge the directive nature
and call for presenting learning as an act of liberation, rethinking of ways of knowing, a
deconstruction of old epistemologies, and with a concomitant demand to transform the
classroom as a safe space (hooks, 1994). This literature review section analyzes alternate and
radical approaches to pedagogy that can open up vistas for transformative and liberatory
practices within the classroom. In analyzing enabling pedagogies, I hope to understand
pedagogy as a practice of freedom and transformation that teachers in the classroom can
enact, empowering them and making them feel integral to the process. I hope to ground my
knowledge in theory to comprehend and deconstruct pedagogical practices, which will enable

37
me to answer my second research question—how are teachers’ perceptions regarding
inclusive education revealed in their pedagogical practices and curricular choices?
Critical pedagogy
Paulo Freire is seen as one of the most important and influential critical
educators of the twentieth century (Giroux, 2010). In his most influential work,
Pedagogy of the Oppressed, Freire (2014) showcased how education, in its broadest
sense, was a practice of freedom, as opposed to education as a practice of domination.
He explains education as the awakening of critical consciousness that leads the way to
the expression of social discontents, which are the fundamental components of an
oppressive situation. Freire (2014) posits liberating education as an act of cognition, a
departure point from transferrals of information that reproduced the past. He calls for
problem-posing education, where people develop the power to critically perceive “the
way they exist in the world with which and in which they find themselves [emphasis in
original]” (p. 83).
Freire (2014) viewed critical pedagogy as an affirmative process that
considered people’s historicity as their starting point and viewed them as beings in the
process of becoming - unfinished and uncompleted beings with an unfinished reality.
He argues that the unfinished nature of humans calls for education to be a
transformational and ongoing process that has to be constantly remade in the praxis.
Freire (2014) places praxis, rooted in theory, at the core of human action and
reflection. He succinctly summarises that “human activity is theory and practice; it is
reflection and action” (p. 125). The praxis of critical reflection is the tenet of critical
pedagogy, aiming to educate students to be critical agents who actively question and
negotiate the relationships between theory and practice, critical analysis and common
sense, and learning and social change. Giroux (2010) explains how critical pedagogy,

38
focusing on rigorous critical examination, ethical discernment, and societal accountability,
delves deeply into the essence of confronting power inequalities in society and
conceptualizing education as a pursuit of freedom. Thus, critical pedagogy underscores the
essential duty of educators as emancipatory, committed to establishing settings conducive to
critical dialogue and envisioning a future where ideals like freedom and equality collaborate
to reshape the fundamental underpinnings of societal life within a wider democratic initiative
(Douglas & Nganga, 2015; Giroux, 2010). Hope was at the core of Freire’s practice – an act
of moral imagination that enabled progressive educators to embark on emancipatory
practices. Giroux (2010) explains how Freire’s politics of hope was a view of radical
pedagogy that located itself on the dividing lines where the relations between domination and
oppression, power and powerlessness continued to be produced and reproduced. Hope, as an
integral aspect of politics and pedagogy, consistently entailed the act of listening to and
collaborating with marginalized communities, empowering them to voice their concerns and
act to transform prevailing power structures.
Beckett (2015) makes the compelling argument that serious and systemic disability
discrimination provides a powerful justification for disability-focused anti-oppressive
pedagogy. Beckett (2015) asserts that if the aim is to foster an inclusive society, then
provisions must extend beyond merely integrating disabled students into mainstream
environments. The teaching and learning strategies in the classrooms have to be reimagined
to confront disability as a mode of oppression. Nevin et al. (2008) extend the argument that
the essence of comprehending the significance of critical pedagogy from a disability rights
standpoint lies in reimagining the conceptualization of services. Instead of adopting a needsbased approach that primarily addresses deficits and aids individuals with disabilities in
coping, Nevin et al.(2008) advocate for an empowering, person-centered, and strength-based
orientation. This perspective regards individuals—regardless of their disability—as

39
competent and complex. The focus of critical pedagogy on addressing oppression and
marginalization rooted in socioeconomic factors provides valuable insights for reimagining
disability as a complex form of social oppression that extends beyond judgments
based solely on innate abilities.
According to Liasidou (2012), critical pedagogy's capacity to address issues of
marginalization, power dynamics, justice, and social change can be utilized to foster
new theoretical perspectives on the intricate nature of disability and its social and
educational positioning. Instead of pathologizing students and concentrating on their
shortcomings, the focus shifts towards questioning the values and interests that shape
prevailing and oppressive educational discourses and practices. Liasidou (2012)
suggests that critical pedagogy has the potential to facilitate the development of an
"ecological framework" that allows for the examination of the discursive construction
of student identities and challenges culturally and socially mediated notions of
"abnormality" (p. 174). Liasidou (2012) posits that awareness of the emancipatory
potential forms of critical pedagogy in reconfiguring the cultural and symbolic
practices within schools, with a view to questioning and deconstructing disabling
pedagogies, can facilitate transformative change at both an ideological and
institutional level.
Anti-Oppressive Education
Kevin K. Kumashiro explores the concept of anti-oppressive education in his
compelling work entitled “Toward a Theory of Anti-Oppressive Education.” He
proposes a theoretical framework to guide educational practices that challenge and
resist oppressive structures and argues that traditional education systems often
perpetuate oppression by reinforcing dominant social norms and marginalizing certain
groups based on race, gender, class, sexuality, ability, and other intersecting identities

40
(Kumashiro, 2000). The paper examines how traditional educational approaches
inadvertently perpetuate oppression through standardized curricula, institutionalized
discrimination, and dominant cultural narratives. Kumashiro (2000) argues that merely
acknowledging or implementing diversity initiatives is insufficient for dismantling oppressive
systems. Central to the framework is anti-oppressive education, which requires a fundamental
shift in pedagogy and curriculum. This approach emphasizes critical consciousness,
encouraging students to question power dynamics and challenge dominant ideologies. Rather
than prescribing a specific curriculum, Kumashiro (2000) advocates for a flexible and
responsive educational model that prioritizes students’ lived experiences and fosters dialogue
around social justice issues. He proposes an amalgam of four approaches to address
oppression in education, the need to explore marginalized theories, and the importance of
broadening the conceptualization of oppression and teaching processes.
Unlike critical pedagogy that does not explicitly touch upon the notion of disability
(Erevelles, 2000; Goodley, 2007, 2013; Liasidou, 2012), oppressive education lies at the
intersection of all forms of marginalization and draws attention to the external harmful
treatment students coupled with the internal biases that influence educator behavior.
Kumashiro (2000) presents a critical analysis of the four possible typologies of education for
Others, whom he defines as “groups that are traditionally marginalized in society, i.e., that
are other than the norm [emphasis in original]” (p. 26) —
i. education for the Other,
ii. education about the Other,
iii. education that is critical of privileging and othering,
iv. education that changes students and society.
Education for the Other. Kumashiro (2000) discusses an approach to addressing
oppression in schools that focuses on improving the experiences of marginalized students

41
within mainstream society. This approach highlights two key manifestations of oppression:
direct harm from peers, teachers, or administrators and implicit biases embedded in
educators’ assumptions and expectations. By examining both external discrimination and
internalized biases, researchers seek to create more inclusive learning environments.
Kumashiro argues that schools must be safe and affirming spaces where diversity is
acknowledged, and teachers tailor their teaching to students’ lived realities.
However, this approach has limitations. By framing oppression around marginalized
individuals, it risks overlooking systemic inequalities that sustain oppression beyond
interpersonal interactions. Intersectionality further complicates efforts, as individuals
experience oppression in multiple, overlapping ways. Additionally, it assumes that educators
can fully understand students’ needs, despite the inherent uncertainty in teaching. Kumashiro
challenges educators to rethink what it means “to teach” amid this complexity. While
addressing the experiences of marginalized students is crucial, anti-oppressive education
must also consider structural barriers, identity intersections, and the evolving nature of
learning to create meaningful change in schools.
Education About the Other. Kumashiro (2000) shifts the focus to the knowledge
and biases of privileged students, emphasizing how incomplete understandings of the Other
contribute to oppression. He identifies two key issues: the tendency to define the Other in
contrast to societal norms and the reinforcement of stereotypes. These misconceptions are
perpetuated through a "hidden curriculum" that normalizes exclusion and bias. To counter
this, Kumashiro advocates for integrating Otherness throughout the curriculum rather than
limiting discussions to specific units. This approach challenges students to see individuals
beyond labels, recognize disability as a social construct, and question the association of
impairment with abnormality. By fostering a deeper understanding of marginalized

42
experiences, educators can promote inclusivity, celebrate diversity, and challenge
discriminatory beliefs.
However, this approach has limitations. It risks oversimplifying marginalized
experiences, reinforcing the norm-Other divide, and assuming that students can fully grasp
complex identities within limited timeframes. Kumashiro argues that instead of merely filling
knowledge gaps, education should disrupt existing assumptions and encourage continual
learning. While empathy is important, it alone cannot dismantle systemic oppression; true
change requires questioning ingrained biases and structures.
Education That Is Critical of Privileging and Othering. This approach to antioppressive education examines how privilege is reinforced through societal norms and
institutions. Kumashiro (2000) emphasizes that understanding oppression requires analyzing
the relationship between schools, cultural norms, and systemic inequalities. Beckett (2015)
highlights that oppression is not just about "individual acts of meanness" but also about
"invisible systems conferring dominance." The goal of this approach is "conscientization"—
helping students recognize their place within power structures and the social construction of
normalcy, which marginalizes those who deviate from it. Instead of merely acquiring more
knowledge about marginalized groups, this pedagogy challenges students to unpack
hegemonic structures and critically examine their own positionality in social hierarchies.
Kumashiro (2000) argues that learning about oppression requires unlearning ingrained
notions of normality and engaging in critical reflection.
However, this approach has limitations. It assumes oppression affects all marginalized
individuals similarly, overlooking the complexities of intersecting identities. Additionally, it
presumes that awareness automatically leads to action, though personal biases and privileges
shape perceptions and responses. Kumashiro (2000) cautions that true transformation requires

43
more than knowledge—it demands ongoing critical engagement, self-reflection, and
active efforts to challenge systemic inequalities.
Education That Changes Students and Society. This approach to critical pedagogy,
influenced by poststructuralism, post-Marxism, post-colonialism, and phenomenology,
emphasizes the role of discourse in shaping oppression (Beckett, 2015). Kumashiro (2000)
explains that oppression is perpetuated through repeated citations of harmful discourses,
which influence thoughts, emotions, and actions. Poststructuralists argue that change requires
more than theoretical critique; it demands active disruption of harmful narratives and the
creation of new, more inclusive histories. Rather than reaffirming minority identities, this
pedagogy calls for transgressive change through activism and the reframing of historical
discourse. Beckett (2015) suggests embracing a "pedagogy of discomfort" that challenges
students' beliefs and routines, pushing them into unfamiliar ethical and moral territories.
Kumashiro (2000) emphasizes that educators must support students through the crises this
pedagogy provokes, guiding them toward new intellectual and emotional understandings.
However, critics argue that this approach is highly theoretical and difficult to
implement within capitalist education systems. Additionally, inducing discomfort in
students carries ethical risks, particularly if distress is not managed with care. While
this pedagogy pushes for transformative change, its practical application remains a
challenge.
Moving From Theory to Practice
According to Freire (2014), all forms of pedagogies represent a particular way
of understanding society and a specific commitment to the future. As Giroux (2010)
explains, critical pedagogy emphasizes the educator’s role in charting a socially just
and equitable future. Bell hooks (1994) calls for educators to critically examine and
reimagine learning spaces as democratic settings where everyone is responsible for

44
contributing. She proffers to view education as a practice of freedom – to teach in a way that
anyone can learn (p. 13). She calls for educators to teach in a manner that respects and cares
for the souls of their students and provide the necessary conditions where learning can most
deeply and inimately begin. A pedagogy that is engaged, respectful, and democratic is more
demanding than conventional pedagogy. An education aimed at changing students and
society is painful and laborious. Pain is involved in giving up old ways of thinking and
knowing and learning new approaches. hooks (1994) explains how she turned to theory when
she was hurting, desperate, and wanting to comprehend things happening around her. Despite
the criticisms against theories, it is an essential tool to understand the possibilities and
limitations of an education system that systemically eliminates certain sections of society
through discrimination. hooks (1994) explains how theories can be used to understand the
nature of a current predicament and act as means by which we can collectively find a
resolution to transform current realities. In such a quest, the dichotomy between theory and
practice ceases to exist, and it ultimately becomes a reciprocal process where one enables the
other.
Love (2019) advocates for educators to be guided by theory and use it as their “North
Star” to arrive at a place of healing and reconciliation (p. 132). Love (2019) explains that
with theory, educators are grounded in reality and armed with knowledge and language to
understand the intersectional nature of injustice that certain members of society face. Love
(2019 demonstrates how theory can be applied to outmaneuver formidable obstacles and help
educators comprehend and dismantle factors contributing to systemic injustice by bringing
them to plain sight. Freire (2014) viewed hope as the cornerstone of transformative practices
that enabled progressive educators to unveil opportunities, no matter the obstacles. Giroux
(2010) explains how hope undergirds Freire’s deep and abiding faith in the ability of people
to resist the weight of oppressive ideologies. Hope was an act of moral imagination that

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enabled progressive educators to think otherwise in order to act otherwise. Giroux
(2010) assert that pedagogy, therefore, is a performative and political act organized
around the “instructed ambivalence of disrupted borders” (pg. 719). In other words, as
hooks (1994) elucidates, transformative pedagogy brings the margins to the center in
order to heal and liberate through praxis that foregrounded power, history, justice, and
ethics as central to transnational democratic education. As Kumashiro, 2000
elucidated teaching a diverse student body warrants that educators examine their own
values, assumptions, and ideologies about working with students who are different
from them.
Bartolomé (2007) defines ideology as a “framework of thought constructed
and held by members of a society to justify or rationalize an existing social order” (p.
263). Bartolomé (2007) points out that ideologies are deep-seated and embedded in
the psychological structures of the personality. It manifests itself in the personal
stories and experiences that shape notions of subjectivity, and are influenced by
individual desires, motivations, and emotions, as well as evolving societal
circumstances and material realities. Bartolomé (2007) posits that in order to embrace
transformative and critical pedagogical practices, educators need to interrogate
harmful ideologies and practices in their schools and classrooms. Bartolomé (2007)
calls for educators to develop political and ideological clarity in order to elevate their
critical consciousness, praxis, and engagement of self as a public change agent.
Political clarity refers to the awareness of the sociopolitical and economic realities
that shape the lives of individuals, and comprehending the linkages between macrolevel political, social, economic variables and its impact on the performance of
marginalized groups in micro-level classroom. Ideological clarity refers to
individuals’ efforts to discern and contrast their own interpretations of the prevailing

46
socioeconomic and political structure with those upheld by the dominant societal norms.
Bartolomé (2007) stresses that juxtaposing the ideologies will help teachers discern how their
belief systems reflect dominant practices and uphold hegemonic narratives. This process of
understanding and challenging harmful ideologies not only leads to a deeper understanding of
the educational system but also empowers educators to take on the role of change agents in
their classrooms and schools, contributing to broader societal change.
Transformative teaching is about tearing down old practices and structures, rethinking
and re-envisioning learning, developing new social interactions, and new ways to be
inclusive and dismantle systemic inequality. As Love (2019) summarizes, the ultimate goal is
freedom; “freedom to create your reality, where uplifting humanity is at the center of all
decisions” (p. 89). hooks (1994) elucidates that progressive, holistic education demands
teachers to be actively committed to a process of self-actualization that promotes their own
well-being if they are to teach in a manner that empowers students. She contends that any
classroom that employs a holistic model of learning will also be a place where teachers grow
and are empowered in the process. hooks (1994) urges teachers to be vulnerable, take risks,
be ready for delayed affirmation, and embrace criticality. Therefore, in order to realize
education that changes students and society, it is essential for educators to explicitly explore
how ideology functions in relation to power and dominance. Educators must comprehend
how counterhegemonic resistance can play a political and cultural function in challenging
and altering the exclusionary, harmful, and inherently undemocratic principles and
convictions underlying prevalent educational methods. Exploring pedagogy as a liberatory
practice requires educators to understand the “self” they bring to the classroom and the
historical, social, cultural, and political forces that have impacted their perceptions (Douglas
& Nganga, 2015, p. 66). García and Guerra (2004) posit that most teachers are unaware of
the dominant culture’s deeper, hidden, or invisible dimensions, which significantly influence

47
their identity, role definitions, and instructional practices. Palmer (2009) explains that
teaching, like any human activity, emerges from one’s inwardness. He asserts that good
teaching requires self-knowledge and that knowing the students we teach depends
heavily on self-knowledge – the teachers cannot know who their students are if they
do not know themselves.
Enabling Conversations – an Ethic of Care
Freire (2014) describes dialogue as an act of encounter and creation rooted in
profound love for the world and the people. Love, in turn, is the foundation of
dialogue. He explains that "loving is dialogical" (p. 89). Freire (2014) views dialogue
as grounded in love, humility, faith, and liberatory practice. Dialogue creates
possibilities for relationships of trust and respect between the members, forging a
partnership that seeks to understand and empower through critical thinking. Stanley et
al. (2013) draw on the work of Paulo Freire, Bell hooks, and Glenn Omatsu to urge
teachers to rethink their assumptions about how they evaluate and value people –
especially in a banking system of education that rewards individuals for competing
and excelling. They call for eschewing authoritarian models of teachers as
transmitters of knowledge and embracing interactive models in which both the learner
and the teacher engage in re-creating safe environments that allow for flexible and
varying modes of learning for a heterogeneous student body. Palmer (2009) posits
that good teaching cannot be reduced to technique. It is intertwined with the identity
and integrity of the teacher. Palmer (2009) presents that power works from the
outside, but authority works from the inside out. He calls for teachers to reconnect
with their selfhood, inner identity, and integrity to develop the authority to teach in a
way rooted in love for humanity.

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Douglas and Nganga (2015) extend the notion of dialogue rooted in love to the
conceptualization of "radical love," a commitment to dialogue and the capacity to take risks
for the benefit of students and teachers alike (p. 64). This commitment necessitates critical
reflection on the part of the teacher about their ideological stance. They propose three
interrelated aspects of enacting a pedagogy of radical love in a classroom, where teachers can
examine themselves and create safe spaces for their diverse student population. They call on
teachers to build a community, create dialogic spaces, and engage in reflective practice.
 Building community: Establishing a sense of community among students marks the
initial step in fostering an environment where radical love can thrive within the classroom.
By building community, every student is affirmed and made to feel that their perspectives
are valued, even if they diverge from the majority. Additionally, it serves as a platform for
recognizing the diverse lived experiences of teachers and students. Within the safe space
of the community, teachers and students can engage in authentic dialogic practices, which
will allow for education to emerge as a process of inquiry where all participants are
actively engaged in co-constructing knowledge.
 Creating dialogic spaces: Teachers should strive to create environments where students
feel empowered to question and engage critically with course material. These
environments can take various forms, including traditional classroom settings, electronic
platforms, and large and small group discussions. Providing students with multiple
avenues for dialogue has proven effective and beneficial. Some students who may be less
inclined to participate in larger group settings often find their voices in smaller group
discussions. Additionally, they propose using online discussion forums that can offer
students the opportunity to engage with course content even when they cannot physically

49
meet in traditional classrooms. It is important to note that central to all the discussions is
the necessity for mutual respect among all participants.
 Engaging in critical reflection: Teachers need to engage in critical reflection to
examine their biases, assumptions, and beliefs when working with students from diverse
backgrounds. To aid this process, students should be encouraged to reflect on various
aspects of diversity. Teachers must understand systemic inequalities within schools and
societies and their role in addressing these issues within their classrooms, schools, and
communities. Through critical reflective practice, teachers can align their beliefs with
current literature on diversity and use this understanding to inform their teaching practices.
Similarly, in her work "Caring: A Relational Approach to Ethics and Moral
Education," Noddings (2013) presents a compelling argument for the centrality of
caring relationships in the context of ethics and moral education. Noddings (2013)
advocates for interconnectedness, empathy, compassion, and ethical deliberation
between the cared-for and the one-caring. She contends that schools and educational
institutions are responsible for prioritizing the development of caring dispositions
alongside academic knowledge. Noddings (2013) emphasizes the role of educators in
modeling caring behavior and creating supportive environments where students feel
valued and respected. One of the key contributions of Noddings's (2013) work is her
articulation of a pedagogy of care, which prioritizes cultivating caring relationships in
the classroom. She argues that caring relationships between teachers and students are
foundational for effective teaching and learning. In a caring classroom environment,
students feel emotionally safe and supported, enabling them to engage more deeply in
learning. Noddings (2013) also highlights the importance of integrating ethical
discussions and moral dilemmas into the curriculum, providing students with
opportunities to reflect on their values and develop ethical reasoning skills. By

50
foregrounding the importance of care in ethical deliberation and moral development, she
invites teachers to reconsider their assumptions about what it means to be ethical. She
challenges them to embrace a more relational approach to ethics and education. Drawing on
educational theory and her own experiences as an educator, Noddings (2013) proposes
practical strategies for fostering caring relationships in educational settings –
 Modeling caring behavior: Educators play a crucial role as role models for caring
behavior. By demonstrating empathy, compassion, and respect in their interactions with
students, teachers can set a positive example and create a supportive learning
environment.
 Creating caring communities: Noddings (2013) emphasizes the importance of building
caring communities within schools, where students feel valued, respected, and connected
to one another. This involves creating opportunities for collaboration, teamwork, and
peer support.
 Establishing trusting relationships: Trust is fundamental to caring relationships.
Educators can foster trust by being authentic, reliable, and responsive to students' needs.
Building trusting relationships requires open communication, active listening, and a
willingness to address students' concerns.
 Individualized attention: Noddings (2013) advocates for an approach to education that
recognizes the unique needs and experiences of each student. Providing individualized
attention allows educators to better understand and respond to students' strengths,
challenges, and interests, fostering a sense of care and personalized support.
 Encouraging reflective practice: Noddings (2013) encourages educators to engage in
reflective practice, where they critically examine their own beliefs, values, and practices.

51
Reflective educators are better able to understand the impact of their actions on students
and continually strive to improve their ability to nurture caring relationships.
 Incorporating ethical discussions: Moral education is integral to fostering caring
relationships. Noddings (2013) suggests incorporating dialouge to promote ethical
discussions into the curriculum, providing students with opportunities to explore and
reflect on their values, beliefs, and ethical decision-making.
 Promoting emotional literacy: Helping students develop emotional literacy is essential
for building caring relationships. Educators can teach students to identify, understand,
and regulate their emotions, as well as empathize with the feelings of others. Emotional
literacy empowers students to navigate interpersonal relationships with empathy and
compassion.
 Cultivating a sense of community responsibility: Noddings (2013) emphasizes the
importance of instilling in students a sense of responsibility for the well-being of their
community. By engaging in service-learning projects, collaborative problem-solving, and
civic engagement activities, students learn to care for others and contribute positively to
their communities.
Teachers Attitudes Toward Inclusion
The previous section discussed the role of ideology and how it impacts
pedagogy and, in turn, teachers' attitudes towards inclusive education. In order to
answer my first research question about teachers' perceptions regarding inclusive
practices, I aim to draw on literature that analyses teachers' attitudes toward inclusive
education in global and local contexts. The section aims to analyze and understand the
factors that impede teachers from embracing equitable, inclusive, and transformative
pedagogical practices. Teachers' attitudes about education, schooling, teaching,
learning, and students have generally been referred to as teachers' beliefs. Pajares

52
(1992) explores the concept of teachers' beliefs and their significance in educational research.
He addresses the complexity and ambiguity surrounding the construct of teachers' beliefs,
highlighting the need for clarity and precision in its definition and measurement. One key
argument in Pajares' (1992) paper is the importance of distinguishing between different types
of beliefs held by teachers, such as epistemological beliefs (beliefs about knowledge and
learning), pedagogical beliefs (beliefs about teaching methods and strategies), and content
beliefs (beliefs about specific subject matter). He cautions that understanding beliefs entails
interferences about individuals' underlying states, fraught with limitations and uncertainty.
Consequently, beliefs cannot be directly witnessed or quantified but must be deduced from
individuals' words, intentions, and actions—a crucial process that educational researchers
have often neglected to follow.
Avramidis and Norwich (2002) reviewed a large body of research to explore factors
that impact mainstream teachers’ attitudes and acceptance of the principles of inclusion. They
argue that the successful implementation of inclusive practices and policies depends on
teachers who are primarily responsible for implementing them in the classrooms. Similarly,
in their meta-analysis of the relationship between teachers’ self-efficacy and attitudes, Yada
et al. (2022) highlight that teachers are critical stakeholders in implementing inclusive
education, and their positive attitude toward it is crucial in building truly inclusive
educational systems. Avramidis and Norwich (2002) investigated the factors influencing
teachers’ attitudes towards inclusion and grouped them into child-related, teacher-related, and
educational environment-related variables. The research indicated that while most teachers
were positive towards the philosophy of inclusive education, they did not subscribe to a total
inclusion approach to education.

53
Child-Related Variables
Avramidis and Norwich (2002) identified three key dimensions shaping
teachers’ perceptions of students with special needs: physical, sensory, and cognitivebehavioral. Their study found that teachers were more willing to include students with
physical disabilities than those with cognitive impairments. Similarly, Bowman’s
(1986) UNESCO study examined mainstream teachers' attitudes toward inclusion
based on disability type and severity. Findings revealed that students with medical
conditions (75.5%) and physical disabilities (63.0%) were the most accepted, while
only about half of teachers supported including students with certain learning
disabilities and speech impairments. One-third supported the inclusion of students
with moderate learning disabilities and emotional or behavioral challenges, while only
25% accepted students with sensory impairments. The least favored for inclusion
were students with mental retardation (2.5%) and multiple disabilities (7.5%).
Notably, teachers showed a preference for students with mild hearing loss who could
engage in conversation over those with profound hearing loss, highlighting how the
severity of disability influenced their attitudes toward inclusion.
In Singapore, Thaver and Lim (2014) examined the attitudes of 1,538 preservice mainstream teachers. While 57.5% believed students with disabilities should
be integrated into mainstream classrooms, 77.7% supported placement in special
schools. Teachers were more inclined to support students with social needs (e.g.,
shyness, communication difficulties) in mainstream settings but showed less
enthusiasm for including students with physical and sensory impairments, despite
these groups having a history of integration in Singapore. Additionally, 82.7%
admitted to having little or no knowledge of special schools. Thaver and Lim (2014)
argue that these attitudes stem from Singapore’s sociocultural landscape, which has

54
historically limited the inclusion of individuals with disabilities in mainstream education.
Within the mainstream education community, there is a prevailing belief that students with
disabilities receive better support in special schools (Lim & Nam, 2000). Their study
confirms that many pre-service teachers in Singapore hold deficit ideologies, reinforcing the
notion that students with disabilities are best served in segregated settings rather than
integrated classrooms.
Educational Environment-Related Variables
Avramidis and Norwich (2002) highlight the impact of environmental factors on
teachers' attitudes toward inclusion, emphasizing the importance of support services at both
the classroom and school levels. These services include tangible resources (e.g., adapted
teaching materials, equipment, and accessible infrastructure such as ramps, elevators, and
Braille systems) and human support (e.g., learning assistants, special education teachers, and
speech therapists). Providing disabled-friendly infrastructure increases teachers’ confidence
and willingness to include students with special needs in mainstream classrooms.
Additionally, smaller class sizes and specialized teaching materials are crucial in fostering
positive attitudes toward inclusion.
Teachers also value two key forms of human support: leadership support and
specialist assistance. School leaders play a critical role in ensuring effective inclusion by
backing teacher-led initiatives, recruiting inclusive-minded staff, and monitoring inclusion
programs. Their involvement enhances teachers’ confidence and instructional efficacy.
Special education teachers also provide essential support, offering guidance and
accommodations to mainstream teachers. Research by Clough and Lindsay (1991, as cited in
Avramidis & Norwich, 2002) underscores how collaboration with specialist teachers helps
alleviate mainstream teachers' anxieties, making inclusion more effective. Yeo et al. (2016)
conducted a qualitative study in Singapore, interviewing 202 educators across 41 primary

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schools. Participants included Allied Educators for Learning and Behavior Support
(AEDs[LBS]) (28.6%), Teachers Trained in Special Needs (TSNs) (32.0%), and mainstream
teachers (39.4%). AEDs had received the most training in working with students with
disabilities. Using semi-structured focus group interviews, the study explored
teachers’ perceptions of inclusion, classroom practices, and challenges. Results
revealed that negative experiences (60.4%) outweighed positive experiences (39.6%).
Teachers identified two key factors contributing to positive experiences: (1)
successfully acquiring effective teaching strategies and (2) receiving support from
school personnel, colleagues, parents, and students. However, challenging student
behaviors—particularly among students with autism, ADHD, or violent tendencies—
were a major barrier to inclusion. These behaviors disrupted lessons, impacted
academic performance, and made it difficult for teachers to complete the curriculum.
Additionally, instructional challenges arose as teachers struggled to balance inclusion
with exam-focused teaching, highlighting tensions within Singapore’s high-stakes
education system.
Teacher-Related Variables
Avramidis and Norwich (2002) highlight various factors influencing teachers'
acceptance of inclusive education, including gender, age, teaching experience, grade
level, and interactions with individuals with disabilities. While evidence on gender
differences was inconsistent, teaching experience significantly impacted attitudes.
Forlin et al. (2009) examined 603 pre-service teachers across Australia, Canada, Hong
Kong, and Singapore and found that prior teaching and training positively influenced
perceptions of inclusion across all demographics. Teachers' beliefs played a crucial
role in shaping their attitudes, which, in turn, influenced classroom practices.
Stanovich and Jordan (1998) studied teacher behaviors in 33 classrooms (grades 2-8)

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across 12 schools, using surveys, interviews, and classroom observations to assess their
attitudes toward inclusive education. They found that principals’ attitudes and their
interventionist approaches were the strongest predictors of effective teaching behavior.
Teachers with a pathognomonic view (who saw disabilities as inherent to students) exhibited
less effective instructional practices. In contrast, those with an interventionist perspective
(who viewed student difficulties as an interaction between the child and their environment)
engaged in more academic interactions and persisted in fostering student understanding.
Thaver et al. (2014) examined the attitudes of 1,538 pre-service teachers in Singapore
using the Attitudes Toward Inclusive Education Scale (Wilczenski, 1992, as cited in Thaver
et al., 2014). Their findings revealed that the most significant predictors of positive attitudes
toward inclusion were prior training in special needs and contact with individuals with
disabilities. However, most pre-service teachers had minimal exposure to individuals with
disabilities and lacked specialized training. Consequently, their attitudes toward inclusive
education were generally ambivalent or slightly negative, aligning with Baglieri and
Shapiro’s (2012) assertion that cultural values and beliefs shape disability perceptions.
Singapore’s dual education system and societal attitudes toward disability further influenced
pre-service teachers’ perspectives. The study found no significant gender differences in
attitudes toward inclusive education. However, three factors significantly influenced
perspectives: age, contact with individuals with disabilities, and prior training in special
needs. Younger pre-service teachers exhibited more positive attitudes than their older
counterparts. Additionally, those with greater exposure to individuals with disabilities had
significantly more favorable views on inclusion compared to those with little to no contact.
Among all variables, training in special needs was the strongest predictor of positive
attitudes. Teachers who had taken at least one course in special needs reported significantly
more inclusive attitudes (M = 63.65, SD = 12.71) than those without training (M = 58.20, SD

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= 11.41). Thaver et al. (2014) argue that trained teachers were more likely to support
inclusion in mainstream classrooms than their untrained counterparts.
Pajares (1992) underscores the need to investigate teachers’ belief systems, as
they shape instructional decisions and classroom practices. He advocates for research
methodologies such as open-ended interviews, vignettes, and classroom observations
to provide deeper insights into teachers’ beliefs. García and Guerra (2004) extend this
perspective by emphasizing that research should not solely focus on teachers’
attitudes but also examine broader societal patterns of prejudice and discrimination
embedded in educational systems. They argue that rather than attributing exclusionary
practices to individual teachers, there should be a systemic analysis of deficit
ideologies that perpetuate inequality in education.
Conceptual Framework
I was motivated by a strong desire to expand my knowledge and gain insight
into teachers’ perceptions of inclusive practices in Singapore. I based my research on
process theory, which Maxwell (2013) defines as “an attempt to see the world in
terms of people, situations, events, and the process that connects these” (p. 29). The
overarching goal of this research was to understand the lived experiences of
participants, make sense of the nature of their settings, and explore the uniqueness of
their contexts and interactions (Merriam & Tisdell, 2015). To answer the research
questions—what are teachers’ perceptions regarding inclusive education in Singapore,
and how are these perceptions revealed in their pedagogical practices? —the study
aimed to develop a tentative theory that explained the link between teachers’
ideologies, shaped by their beliefs, and their pedagogical choices.
Sociocultural-historical theory provides the theoretical foundation for this
study. In simple terms, theory serves as a model or map that explains aspects of the

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world and how it operates. Maxwell (2013) describes theorizing as a cognitive process of
identifying relationships between abstract categories and notes that theory is a statement
about what is happening in the phenomena under study. Lochmiller and Lester (2017) explain
that a theoretical framework offers a broad lens and provides theoretical rationale for the
study’s approach. Therefore, to develop my conceptual framework, I used sociocultural
theory as a spotlight to illuminate the phenomena I sought to understand and the relationships
embedded within it. As Maxwell (2013) states, “the simplest form of theory consists of two
concepts joined by a proposed relationship” (p. 49). In this study, teachers’ perception and
praxis are the two central concepts. I explored the relationship between these two concepts
and how they influence inclusive practices. The conceptual framework serves as a “tentative
theory” that represents, either graphically or narratively, “the main things to be studied—the
key factors, concepts, variables—and the presumed relationships among them” (Maxwell,
2013, p. 39). Lochmiller and Lester (2017) describe the conceptual framework as a finegrained lens that operationalizes and explains relationships between theoretical concepts. It is
“the researcher’s map of the territory being investigated” (p. 31). Maxwell (2013) similarly
defines a conceptual framework as “the system of concepts, assumptions, expectations,
beliefs, and theories that supports and informs your research” (p. 39).
To construct the conceptual framework for this study, I drew inspiration from
Wenger’s (2002) work on communities of practice and Rogoff’s (2003) work on individual
development through participation in sociocultural activity. Wenger (2002) highlights the
importance of understanding the temporal dimension of communities of practice. In her
social theory of learning, she explains that learning lies at the intersection of meaning,
practice, community, and identity. As social beings, we make meaning individually and
collectively through lived experience—experience shaped by the social configurations in
which our practices are situated. Practice and identity are embedded in social and historical

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contexts through our personal histories and engagement in communities of practice.
Rogoff (2003) conceptualizes learning and development as transformations of
participation across multiple interacting levels of influence or planes of development.
She emphasizes that people develop through the shared use of cultural tools and
practices, while also contributing to the transformation of those tools, practices, and
institutions.
At this juncture, it is important to acknowledge that all conceptual frameworks
are inextricably linked to the researcher’s beliefs and assumptions, which in turn
shape theory and design (Ravitch & Carl, 2016). I drew on the literature as a rich,
though imperfect, source of ideas to unpack the phenomenon of inclusive education
within the specific context of this study. I adopted what Maxwell (2013) describes as
a “bricolage” approach, which rejects a predetermined plan in favor of a more
spontaneous, contextual, and interactive design (p. 6). As Claude Lévi-Strauss (1968)
famously noted, “a bricoleur [is] someone who uses whatever tools and materials are
at hand to complete a project” (as cited in Maxwell, 2013, p. 42). Rather than
following a rigid plan that prescribes fixed methods, I viewed the study as an evolving
design where components interact and adapt to the context in which the research is
situated. Consequently, I resisted the use of preconceived checklists and surveys that
reduce teachers’ beliefs into static variables. Instead, I centered the research on
teachers’ lived experiences, with particular attention to their ideological frameworks.
My conceptual framework evolved throughout the early stages of the study and
continued to develop during data collection. Through an initial review of the literature, I
realized that focusing solely on teachers’ perceptions of inclusion would narrow my
analytical lens and risk committing attribution errors. Embedding the study in cultural,
historical, and institutional dimensions broadened my understanding of educators’

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perceptions as processes constructed through participation. Kozleski et al. (2014) argue that
teachers’ professional practice is marked by complexity, as their actions unfold in contexts
where individual identities, histories, and meanings are continuously negotiated and
reconstructed by others in the system. This study conceptualizes teachers’ perceptions and
practices within a multidimensional schema that recognizes the intertwining roles of culture,
history, and context in shaping daily practice. Educational practices are embedded in larger
sociocultural-historical contexts, and I believe that this multi-layered lens allows for deeper
insight into the mediating factors of inclusive education—how it is conceptualized, enacted,
and assessed within Singaporean classrooms (Kozleski et al., 2014).
Link Between Ideology, Positionality and Pedagogy
Before examining the individual components of the framework, it is essential to
unpack the concepts of epistemology and positionality as they relate to this study. Douglas
and Nganga (2015) call for the interrogation of teacher positionalities and epistemologies.
They define epistemology as a “highly nuanced filter that is constructed from the
amalgamation of the social, political, and historical dynamics of lived experience” (p. 60).
Villaverde (2008) describes positionality as “how one is situated through the intersection of
power and the politics of gender, race, class, sexuality, ethnicity, culture, language, and other
social factors” (as cited in Douglas & Nganga, 2015, p. 60).
The philosopher-historian Michel Foucault has written extensively on epistemology in
his work The Order of Things. Foucault (1970) challenges traditional notions of knowledge
and truth, arguing that these concepts are not fixed or objective, but are instead shaped by
historical, cultural, and societal forces. He explores how different historical periods are
characterized by distinct epistemes—systems of knowledge that determine what can be
known and how it is understood. Foucault emphasizes the importance of understanding the
conditions under which knowledge is produced and the ways in which power operates within

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these systems. He highlights the discontinuities and ruptures that have shaped human
thought across disciplines, urging us to question underlying assumptions and
recognize the role of power in shaping knowledge. Thomas (2014) extends Foucault’s
theories to examine special education as a product of social and political
frameworks—specifically, how people think within a given timeframe and what they
consider to be best for children and for education. He argues that the epistemic
foundations of deficit- and needs-based thinking have contributed to segregated
pedagogic systems for children with special needs, heavily reliant on reductionist and
transmission-oriented instructional models.
Bartolomé (2007) calls for an explicit study of teachers’ ideologies to
understand how the culture of the dominant class becomes embedded in the hidden
curriculum. She asserts that ideology exists within the deep, embedded psychological
structures of the personality and is inextricably linked to individual experiences,
societal structures, and material conditions. Ideology, therefore, is not merely a set of
abstract ideas but a complex system shaped by personal beliefs, social influences,
economic realities, and political dynamics. Individuals develop their ideologies
through their lived experiences, upbringing, education, socioeconomic status, and
interpersonal interactions. Over time, these ideologies evolve in response to changes
in these conditions. Examining the inner histories and experiences of individuals in
society is critical to understanding how ideologies are formed, evolve, and manifest in
different contexts. It requires recognizing the dynamic interplay between subjective
experiences and broader social, economic, and political forces. Enhancing teachers’
ideological clarity involves encouraging educators to critically evaluate their
interpretations of broader social structures in contrast to dominant societal norms.
Bartolomé (2007) argues that mainstream teacher education programs often neglect

62
the importance of challenging educators’ perspectives on the unequal opportunities afforded
in classrooms. By acknowledging the role of ideology and promoting critical reflection, a
significant step can be taken toward improving educational outcomes—particularly for
students who have been historically marginalized.
The conceptual framework in Figure 3 outlines the nexus between teachers’
perceptions and their pedagogical practices. The pedagogical frame is shaped and influenced
by teachers’ perceptions of inclusive education. These perceptions, in turn, are the result of a
complex interplay between subjective experience and broader societal and political forces
(Bartolomé, 2007). Tabachnick and Zeichner (1984) and Janesick (1979) describe
perspectives as action-oriented and situation-specific. Unlike beliefs or attitudes, perspectives
encompass not just dispositions but actions themselves. Janesick’s (1979) definition aligns
most closely with how the term is applied in this study. She defines perspective as “a
reflective, socially defined interpretation of that which he or she encounters, an interpretation
which serves as a basis for the actions which he or she constructs. The person’s perspective is
a combination of beliefs and behaviors continually modified by social interaction” (p. 5).

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Figure 3
Conceptual Framework
Based on the literature review, I conceptualized several significant factors that
influence teachers’ perceptions. A meta-analysis by Yada et al. (2022) revealed the
limited research examining the connection between teachers’ perceptions and their
actual behavior. Additionally, meta-analyses conducted by van Steen and Wilson
(2020) and Dignath et al. (2022) examined teachers’ attitudes and belief systems
toward inclusion and highlighted that most researchers relied on self-reporting tools
such as questionnaires to measure attitudes. These studies largely focused on
describing teachers’ attitudes rather than investigating where such attitudes originate
(van Steen & Wilson, 2020). Teachers’ attitudes toward inclusion are a critical
starting point in creating equitable and inclusive learning environments. Van Steen
and Wilson (2020) emphasized that the knowledge gap concerning the underlying
factors shaping teachers’ attitudes toward inclusion can undermine the impact of any

64
intervention or training aimed at fostering inclusive mindsets (see also Dignath et al., 2022).
They further demonstrated that cross-cultural studies on teacher attitudes often overlook the
influence of broader cultural factors, drawing on Hofstede’s (2001) cross-cultural paradigm
to show how these dimensions shape societal views toward minorities and children with
disabilities. Their analysis underscores that “attitudes towards inclusion do not occur in a
vacuum, but are a product of societal, and possibly historical, artifacts that shape society and
inform values” (van Steen & Wilson, 2020, p. 10). Dignath et al. (2022) further caution that
self-reported data may be susceptible to social desirability bias. They note that asking
teachers to report their thoughts and feelings may yield “socially desirable statements that do
not necessarily reflect teachers’ real beliefs” (p. 2644). More importantly, most studies in
their review did not investigate the associations between teachers’ belief systems and actual
classroom behavior or student-level outcome variables.
To understand how teachers’ perceptions are revealed in pedagogical practices, I drew
on literature from critical pedagogy and centered my analysis on the ethics of care. Noddings
(2013) emphasizes the importance of cultivating authentic care in educational settings—a
deeper, genuine form of caring rooted in empathy, understanding, and sincere concern for
students’ holistic well-being. She advocates for fostering meaningful relationships that
support students both emotionally and academically. Freire (2014) states, “What keeps a
[person] teacher able as a liberatory educator is the political clarity to understand the
ideological manipulations that disconfirm human beings as such, the political clarity that
would tell us that it is ethically wrong to allow human beings to be dehumanized” (as cited in
Bartolomé, 2007, p. 284). Expanding on the notion of liberatory praxis, Douglas and Nganga
(2015) argue that pedagogy exists at the intersection of epistemology, positionality, and
praxis. This intersection entails comprehending systems of oppression
(epistemology/ideology), understanding one’s role in upholding these structures

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(positionality), and exercising one’s agency to challenge and transform these
structures (praxis).
Bartolomé (2007) explains that critical pedagogy invites educators to pierce
through the “dense fog of ideology” and courageously advocate for historically
marginalized students. Critical pedagogy equips educators and learners with
transformative tools to examine the interconnectedness of ideology, power, social
structures, and dominant practices. To operationalize elements of transformative
pedagogy in this study, I drew from Noddings’ (2013) concept of “authentic care” and
Douglas and Nganga’s (2015) framing of “radical love,” creating what Maxwell
(2013, p. 6) describes as a “bricolage” of variables. These components enabled me to
define transformative pedagogy through the following indicators:
i. The teacher creates a caring community alongside students, where all members feel
valued and respected;
ii. The teacher and students develop critical consciousness through shared critical
reflection;
iii. The teacher and students build trusting, responsive, reciprocal relationships rooted in
love and authentic care;
iv. The teacher provides individualized support, leverages students’ strengths, and
ensures their active engagement in co-constructing knowledge.
v. The teacher promotes emotional literacy by creating dialogic spaces where students
can identify, understand, and regulate their emotions, and empathize with others
(Douglas & Nganga, 2015; Noddings 2013).
To conceptualize the other end of the pedagogical spectrum—normative pedagogy—
as presented in Figure 3, I drew from Freire’s (2014) critique of the “banking model” of

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education. Rather than adopting the full catalogue of traits associated with this model, I
selected five core elements that help define normative pedagogy in my framework:
i. The teacher teaches, and students are taught;
ii. The teacher talks, and students listen;
iii. The teacher disciplines, and the students are disciplined;
iv. The teacher enforces rules and schedules, and the students comply;
v. The teacher chooses content, and the students adapt (Freire, 2014, p. 73).
Pajares (1992) contends that educators’ beliefs are one of the most critical constructs
in educational research, as they lie at the heart of teaching. He advocates for qualitative
research methods as an appropriate and promising approach for investigating teachers’
beliefs. Pajares emphasizes the importance of understanding the relationships between
teacher beliefs, practices, professional knowledge, and student outcomes. From my analysis
of the literature, it became evident that critical gaps remain in our understanding of teachers’
perceptions—gaps that this qualitative study seeks to address. The next section presents the
perspectives of two mainstream primary school teachers in Singapore. The research was
grounded in a constructivist paradigm, which recognizes that multiple realities are
constructed through participants’ perspectives (Lochmiller & Lester, 2017). This study was
premised on the assumption that reality is socially constructed and that inclusion is
interpreted in varied and evolving ways.
Maxwell (2013) refers to this as “epistemological constructivism,” which holds that
our understanding of the world is always a construction, rather than a purely objective
perception of reality—and that no construction can claim absolute truth (p. 43). Social
constructivism informed both the research design and the underlying philosophical stance
that individuals interpret experience differently and that there is no single, objective
experience (Merriam & Tisdell, 2015). This study adopted a critical stance to uncover the

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interpretive processes through which teachers understand inclusion. It aimed to
surface the hidden curriculum and power dynamics that marginalize certain students.
The research drew from critical disability studies and critical pedagogy to deconstruct
what Andreotti (2016, p. 104) refers to as “epistemic blindness”—the limits of our
capacity to think and be beyond the parameters defined by modernity. These
parameters are closely associated with linear progress, meritocracy, democracy, and
industrialization (de Oliveira Andreotti et al., 2015).
Paradoxically, these dominant narratives are sustained by the belief in the
possibility of absolute understanding and truth. Drawing from de Oliveira Andreotti et
al. (2015), I employed social cartography as a pedagogical tool to map these tensions
and to make visible the choices often rendered invisible by dominant worldviews. I
used social cartography to provide a snapshot of teachers’ situated realities while
illuminating possibilities that extend beyond the boundaries of modernity (p. 22).
Additionally, I employed the HEADS UP checklist developed by Andreotti (2018, p.
200) to critically analyze my positionality and interrogate the biases I brought to this
research.

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Chapter Three: Methodology
This chapter outlines the methodology adopted for this qualitative study and the
underlying rationale for the research design. It describes in detail the research approach,
instrumentation, sampling strategy, and the techniques employed for data collection. The
study aimed to understand teachers’ perspectives on inclusion within the context of
Singapore and to examine how these perceptions were revealed in their pedagogical
practices. It also sought to explore the underlying factors that shaped teachers’ attitudes
toward inclusion through semi-structured interviews. Additionally, the study investigated
whether any associations existed between teachers’ belief systems and their classroom
practices.
The first section of this chapter presents the rationale for selecting a qualitative
research design. This is followed by a description of the research context and population,
along with an in-depth explanation of the sampling strategy and the rationale behind
participant selection. The subsequent sections detail the data collection methods and
demonstrate how these methods supported the research questions. Finally, the chapter
addresses the ethical considerations relevant to the study, outlines my positionality as a
researcher, and discusses the implications of this positionality on the research findings.
Research Design
This study was grounded in an interest in understanding how teachers interpret their
experiences, construct their worlds, and attribute meaning to those experiences. Merriam and
Tisdell (2015) explain that research questions rooted in understanding participants’ lived
experiences call for a qualitative design. Accordingly, this study adopted an inductive
approach to examine how teachers made sense of their experiences, delineated their processes
of meaning-making, and expressed those understandings—either consciously or
subconsciously—through their classroom practices. As Merriam and Tisdell (2015) note, the

69
key concern of qualitative research is to understand the phenomenon of interest from
an “emic” or participant perspective, rather than from an “etic” or researcher-imposed
perspective (p. 16). Through this research process, I sought to collect detailed, richly
descriptive data focused on the particularities of the local context and to develop a
“thick description” of human interactions within that setting (Agee, 2009, p. 434).
The study focused on how two mainstream primary school teachers in
Singapore perceived inclusion and how those perceptions were reflected in their
pedagogical practices. I selected a case study approach for this qualitative research,
identifying the inclusive school as the bounded system and the individual classrooms
as the units of analysis (Lochmiller & Lester, 2017). Merriam and Tisdell (2015)
define a case study as “an in-depth analysis of a bounded system” (p. 37). Similarly,
Yin (2009) describes a case study as an empirical inquiry into a contemporary
phenomenon within its real-world context (as cited in Lochmiller & Lester, 2017, p.
102). The defining feature of the case study methodology lies in understanding the
unit of analysis (the case), the individual parts, the relationships among them, and
how they function as a whole. Creswell (2013) adds that a case study is a qualitative
approach in which the researcher explores a bounded system (a case) or multiple
bounded systems (cases) over time through detailed, in-depth data collection
involving multiple sources of information—such as observations, interviews,
audiovisual material, documents, and reports—and produces a case description and
case-based themes (Merriam & Tisdell, 2015).
This case study approach allowed me to collect in-depth data from each
teacher (the units of analysis) in order to explain the phenomenon of inclusive
educational practices within the primary school (the bounded system). Given that the
research questions were descriptive in nature—focusing on the "why" and "how" of

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teacher actions and interactions—a case study approach was best suited to uncover what was
happening in this particular setting with this specific group of participants (Agee, 2009). The
use of semi-structed interviews and non-participant observations allowed me to work closely
with the participants and capture how their perceptions are revealed in their pedagogical
practices.
Sample and Population
This study was conducted at an inclusive mainstream primary school in Singapore
that enrolls students with hearing loss (HL). The school is part of a large faith-based social
service organization overseen by the Catholic Sisters. As of the 2024 academic year, 750
students were enrolled in the primary school, of whom 80 were diagnosed with hearing
impairment. The school has six grade levels, from Primary One through Primary Six, with
four to five classes per level, each comprising approximately 30 to 35 students. At the time of
the study, I was employed by the Children and Community Services unit of the same
organization and oversaw the early years education division. Although the primary school
falls under the broader organizational umbrella, it operates independently and adheres to
guidelines and policies set by the Ministry of Education (MOE), which apply to all public
schools in Singapore. The MOE directly appoints all primary school staff. The organization’s
board of directors and trustees has limited involvement in the day-to-day operations of the
school.
The school’s historical journey offers context to its current status as Singapore’s only
inclusive mainstream primary school for students with hearing loss. Established on August
15, 1941, by the Sisters as a private Chinese school serving economically disadvantaged
families, the school continued its mission through World War II and the Japanese occupation,
particularly supporting children with disabilities. After Singapore’s independence, the school
was brought under MOE oversight while continuing to receive support from the Sisters. In

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2009, MOE formally recognized the primary school as an inclusive school due to its
longstanding collaboration SPED school for students with HL. From 2025 onwards, the MOE
will take over the enrolment of students in the SPED school and has designated this
primary school as the official mainstream placement for children with HL.
I selected this school for my study because it accepts students with varying
degrees of hearing loss—from mild to profound. These students use assistive
technologies such as hearing aids or cochlear implants. Audiologists and therapists
employed by the organization, rather than the MOE, provide in-school support for
these students. To enhance auditory engagement in classrooms, teachers wear
transmitters around their necks, which connect to students’ hearing devices. This
setup amplifies the teacher’s voice while reducing background noise. It is important to
note that all assistive technology and related support services are funded through
donations raised by the Sisters or through grants from the Ministry of Social and
Family Development (MSF). MOE only partially subsidizes the cost of professional
support services, such as those provided by audiologists, speech therapists, and
clinical psychologists. However, MOE appointed Special Education Officers (SENO)
are responsible for overseeing students diagnosed with other learning needs across all
grade levels. In addition, the MOE has assigned AEDs to the school to provide further
learning support.
Although I was employed within the same organization, I selected this site
because the primary school functions independently, with distinct reporting lines,
regulatory structures, and oversight bodies. I was not employed by the MOE, and
none of the study participants reported to me directly or indirectly. I do, however,
acknowledge the ethical implications of my professional relationship with the
school’s leadership and my presence within the shared physical complex. These

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considerations are addressed further in the Ethics section of this dissertation. Another key
factor in selecting this site was its location within the same campus as my workplace.
Accessibility was crucial, especially during data collection, as proximity significantly
reduced travel time and allowed for flexible scheduling during school hours. Additionally,
my existing professional relationships within the organization facilitated expedited access to
the school—an important consideration, given the limited time available for data collection
prior to the end of the academic year. In Singapore, the school year for mainstream schools
runs from January to November. Given this timeline, I commenced data collection as soon as
I received approval from the Institutional Review Board (IRB) and completed fieldwork
before October 2023.
Sample Selection
This study employed a non-probabilistic, purposeful sampling strategy to identify
participants who could provide rich, detailed insights into inclusive education practices.
Purposeful sampling was selected to ensure that the participants would be well-positioned to
offer thick, descriptive data related to their perceptions and experiences. As Patton (2002)
notes, the strength of purposeful sampling lies in its ability to yield in-depth understanding of
specific, information-rich cases (p. 230). He further emphasizes that the validity and
meaningfulness of a qualitative inquiry are closely tied to the appropriateness of the cases
selected for study.
To guide the sampling process, I applied a criterion-based approach, which Merriam
and Tisdell (2015) describe as essential for aligning the sample with the study’s purpose and
ensuring relevance to the research questions. Figure 4 provides a visual summary of the
sample selection process.

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Figure 4
Purposeful Sample Selection
This study employed a two-tier sampling process. The first tier involved
identifying a primary school that was willing to participate in the research. The
second tier focused on selecting individual teachers who would serve as participants.
In collaboration with the school principal, I selected two teachers who met three
predefined criteria: (a) ethnicity, (b) length of service, and (c) prior training in special
needs education. These criteria were designed to ensure variation in teacher
backgrounds and to reflect characteristics representative of the broader teaching
population in Singapore’s primary schools. As teachers are appointed directly by
MOE, there is a possibility that those assigned to work in this inclusive setting may
hold divergent views toward inclusion in mainstream schools. This variability in
perspectives was important to capture, as it reflects the complexity of teacher
experiences in inclusive educational environments. It is essential to note that
participant selection also considered feasibility of access and availability during
school hours, particularly as the Primary School Leaving Examination (PSLE) in late

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October 2025 coincided with the data collection period. Additionally, participants needed to
manage their involvement during a particularly busy academic calendar.
Ethnicity: Singapore has a diverse population comprising individuals from various
ethnic and religious backgrounds. According to the 2023 population census, the ethnic
composition of the resident population is 74% Chinese, 13.5% Malay, 9.0% Indian, and 3.4%
Other (Department of Statistics Singapore, 2024). By applying ethnicity as a criterion, I
aimed to include a participant from one of the minority communities. This criterion helped
ensure “maximum variation” in the sample (Maxwell, 2013, p. 98), acknowledging that the
lived experiences and perspectives of minority ethnic groups may differ from those of the
dominant group. Ravitch and Carl (2016) emphasize the importance of developing research
methods that engage with different “thought communities” to generate inclusive and
contextually grounded knowledge (p. 36). Therefore, I included a teacher of Indian ethnicity
in the study to ensure that voices from historically underrepresented communities were
incorporated in the research.
Experience and Training: As highlighted in the literature review, both local and
international research underscore the importance of prior experience and professional training
in shaping teachers’ perceptions of inclusion (Avramidis & Norwich, 2002; Lim & Thaver,
2014; Yada et al., 2022). In the Singapore context, Thaver et al. (2014) found that three
factors significantly influenced pre-service teachers’ attitudes toward inclusive education:
age, contact with individuals with disabilities (measured by the number of encounters), and
prior training in special needs. Specifically, pre-service teachers who had contact with
individuals with disabilities expressed more positive attitudes toward inclusion than those
without such contact. Among all variables, training in special needs emerged as the strongest
predictor of positive attitudes. Those who had undergone training demonstrated significantly
more inclusive mindsets than those without.

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Guided by these findings, I participants with varying levels of experience and training
through purposeful sampling. In terms of teaching experience, I selected one participant with
fewer than three years of teaching experience and another with ten or more years. Regarding
training, I prioritized the inclusion of at least one teacher who had completed the Teachers
Trained in Special Needs (TSN) program. Since 2005, the Ministry of Education (MOE) has
mandated that 10% of mainstream primary school teachers in every school complete the TSN
course to support students with special educational needs (Walker & Musti-Rao, 2016; Yeo
et al., 2016). For this study, I selected one participant who had completed the TSN program
and another who had not yet attended or completed any training in special needs education.
By using these three criteria—ethnicity, experience, and training—I aimed to assemble a
sample that was reflective of the wider teaching population across Singapore’s primary
schools.
Instrumentation
Maxwell (2013) explains that methods are the means of answering research
questions. The selection of methods depends not only on the research question but
also on the research context and what works most effectively for collecting relevant
data. Lochmiller and Lester (2017) posit that a basic presumption in qualitative
research is that “the researcher is the research instrument” (p. 93), as there is less
distance between the researcher and the data collected. Since the purpose of this study
was to understand teachers’ perceptions of inclusion and how those perceptions were
revealed in their practices, I used multiple instruments to collect data and build
methodological rigor to enhance the study’s credibility.
As Merriam and Tisdell (2015) note, human beings are the primary instrument
for data collection and analysis in qualitative research. Therefore, it was necessary to
use multiple methods to reduce the risk of researcher bias and establish triangulation.

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Maxwell (2013) cautions against viewing triangulation as an abstract strategy and urges
researchers to consider how it will be applied meaningfully within the context of their study.
In this study, I used multiple methods to gain a greater depth of understanding, rather than to
simply expand the breadth of the data or confirm predetermined conclusions. My objective
was to encourage dialogue among findings from different sources, and adopt a dialectical
stance that required me to re-examine my understanding of the phenomenon alongside a
conscious awareness of my positionality and biases. Using multiple methods also allowed me
to access different dimensions of teachers’ perceptions and practices, enabling what Maxwell
(2013) terms “complementarity and expansion” (p. 102).
With the support of the primary school principal, I selected two participants who met
the purposeful sampling criteria. Once I obtained both verbal and written consent from the
participants, I conducted one-on-one semi-structured interviews with each teacher, followed
by a series of non-participant classroom observations. Additionally, I was able to observe a
90-minute mentoring session led by the second participant, which provided valuable insights
into how school practices, values, and belief systems shaped teachers' perceptions. Together,
these methods enabled me to collect rich, descriptive data that captured the participants’
perceptions and experiences of inclusive education practices (Pajares, 1992; Merriam &
Tisdell, 2015).
Interview
Patton (2002) explains that interviews help uncover information that cannot be
observed directly—particularly insights into how individuals organize their world and the
meanings they attach to events. Interviews, he notes, “allow us to enter into the other
person’s perspective” (p. 341). I conducted semi-structured interviews using an interview
guide (Appendix B) with each of the two purposefully selected participants. This lessstructured format was selected to allow participants to define their experiences in their own

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terms and to provide the flexibility to explore emergent ideas in greater depth
(Merriam & Tisdell, 2015). To answer the first research question, I conducted one
semi-structured, one-on-one interview with each participant, each lasting
approximately 90–100 minutes. The goal was to understand how each teacher viewed
inclusion, learn the terminology and values they used, and capture the complexities of
their perceptions and lived experiences. Each interview was conducted prior to the
observation phase to address the first research question: What are teachers’
perceptions of inclusion? With the participants’ consent, I audio-recorded and
transcribed each interview for coding and analysis. The interview protocol covered a
range of background, experience, and knowledge questions, followed by prompts
related to opinions, values, and reflective commentary.
Merriam and Tisdell (2015) argue that qualitative research is grounded in
assumptions about the multiplicity and fluidity of reality. They emphasize the
importance of integrating rigorous data collection methods with reflexive
interpretation to ensure credibility and dependability. As Maxwell (2013) and
Merriam and Tisdell (2015) caution, the researcher’s interpretation of an event,
without incorporating participants’ voices, risks producing a one-dimensional
account. Therefore, triangulating interviews with classroom observations was
essential to construct a more complete and nuanced representation of practice.
Observation
To answer the second research question, I conducted eight non-participant
observations for each participant, with each session lasting approximately one hour.
Additionally, I observed a 90-minute mentoring session led by the second participant,
which offered valuable insights into how school practices, values, and belief systems
shaped teachers’ perceptions. In total, I completed 10 hours and 30 minutes of

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classroom observations across both teachers. The observations were intended to provide
insight into each teacher’s pedagogical practices and curricular adaptations in support of
inclusive education, and offered an opportunity to directly witness the classroom
environment, instructional interactions, and subtle social dynamics that might otherwise
escape notice. As Patton (2002) explains, observations allow researchers to learn things that
participants may be unwilling or unable to articulate during interviews—particularly when
interacting with someone they do not know well. Observations also help address the
limitations of selective perception inherent in self-reports. While field notes reflect the
researcher’s perspective, Patton (2002) argues that they offer a more holistic view of the
research setting when used alongside other data sources.
The goal of conducting multiple classroom observations was to understand how
teachers responded to the learning needs of students with disabilities. These observations
helped me link classroom practices with the perceptions expressed during interviews, thereby
providing a richer picture of inclusive teaching. I coordinated observation times with the
school principal and participating teachers to ensure mutual convenience. To guide what to
observe in the classroom, I referred to literature that conceptualizes inclusive practices.
Specifically, I drew from the classroom observation checklist developed by Stanovich and
Jordan (1998), which examines how beliefs about inclusion can be used as predictors of
effective teaching in heterogeneous classrooms. I also adopted theory as my “North Star”
(Love, 2019) and used it to develop an observation guide tailored to the goals of this study
(Appendix C). During the observations, I focused on the following areas:
 Physical classroom settings
 Classroom activities and teacher-student interactions
 Peer interactions

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 Communication between teachers and students
 Lesson modifications and accommodations for students with SEN
 Classroom management strategies
 Non-verbal communication and symbolic representations
 Reflexive awareness of my own positioning as an observer (Merriam & Tisdell, 2015;
Patton, 2002).
My initial plan included six one-hour observations per participant (12 hours in total);
however, due to scheduling challenges related to the Primary School Leaving Examination
(PSLE) and annual examinations, I was only able to complete four classroom observations
per participant (10 hours and 30 minutes in total). Classroom observations were not feasible
during October and November 2024 due to exams, year-end celebrations, and school
closures. Despite this, the mentoring session provided significant supplementary data. In
total, I gathered 11 hours and 30 minutes of classroom observations and 3 hours of interviews
for analysis. By employing multiple methods of data collection, I aimed to develop a deeper
understanding of the phenomenon rather than merely generating breadth (Maxwell, 2013).
Ethical considerations
Lochmiller and Lester (2017) define consent as the “process of informing and
obtaining agreement from a research participant to participate in the study” (p. 71).
Informed consent involves explaining participants’ rights, discussing the study's
purpose, and informing them of any potential risks. It is important for participants to
understand that their participation is voluntary and that they may withdraw their
consent at any time. As a principal, I was particularly concerned about compliance
issues, especially given the potential for power dynamics and hierarchical structures
to inadvertently influence or coerce participants. Lochmiller and Lester (2017) also

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emphasize that researchers must uphold ethical standards throughout the study—not only
during data collection and analysis. I had concerns about my existing relationship with
members of the organization while conducting this qualitative study. Data collection and
dissemination often raise ethical questions, particularly when researcher–participant
relationships are involved. Merriam and Tisdell (2015) highlight the importance of relational
ethics, cautioning against viewing participants as mere sources of data. In postmodern,
critical, feminist, and participatory research traditions, it is essential to foreground informed
consent, privacy, and protection from harm.
In addition to confidentiality concerns, interviews and observations introduced unique
ethical dilemmas. My presence in the classroom or during interviews could have been
perceived as an invasion of privacy by the teachers, potentially leading to discomfort,
uncertainty, or anxiety about how their responses might affect their roles or job security.
Maxwell (2013) uses the term "reflexivity" to describe the reciprocal influence between the
researcher and the individuals or settings being studied (p. 90). The goal of qualitative
research is not to eliminate this influence but to recognize and examine how it shapes the
research process and affects the credibility of the findings. Ethical considerations also
emerged during the dissemination of study findings, particularly regarding the potential for
unintended negative consequences for the organization, its leadership, or its management. I
was aware that presenting or publishing the study must be done in a manner that avoids
causing harm to the participants (Lochmiller & Lester, 2017). The American Educational
Research Association (AERA) reinforces that educational researchers must respect the rights,
privacy, dignity, and sensitivities of their research participants, as well as the integrity of the
institutions where the research is conducted (Maxwell, 2013).
As the principal of the early years’ division, I worked closely with the primary school
principal to develop and advance organizational objectives at a strategic level. Our

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collaboration encompassed operational and pedagogical matters, and we regularly
updated the board on our joint initiatives. Although the primary school teachers did
not report directly to me, I remained acutely aware of how my professional
relationship with the principal could influence their perceptions of me as a researcher.
As Milner (2007) emphasizes, researchers must consider their roles in relation to the
communities and individuals involved in the research process. Understanding the
complex interplay of roles, identities, and positionalities is essential. In my case, I had
to remain mindful of the power dynamics and overlapping interests that could shape
participants’ experiences and responses. I was also conscious of the need to balance
my personal interests and research goals with those of the participants, which may not
always align. Despite my commitment to protecting participants’ identities and
maintaining confidentiality, I was concerned about the potential for their responses to
be traced back to them—especially if the findings reflected unfavorably on the
organization. These ethical tensions required ongoing reflection, transparency, and
care throughout the research process.
Data Collection
The purpose of this study was to examine inclusive education in Singapore through
the perspectives of two primary school teachers. The first phase explored how contextual
influences and lived experiences shaped their perceptions of inclusive education, while the
second phase investigated how these perceptions were reflected in their classroom practices.
The study addressed the following research questions:
1. What are two Primary school teachers' perceptions regarding inclusive education in
Singapore?
2. How are their perceptions revealed in their pedagogical practices and curricular
choices?

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Given the descriptive and exploratory nature of these questions, I employed a
qualitative case study approach to gain a deeper understanding of the participants within a
bounded context (Agee, 2009). The defining feature of case study methodology is its focus
on a unit of analysis—the case—while examining the components, relationships, and systems
at work within that case. Patton (2002) describes case analysis as a method of organizing data
for in-depth study and comparison. In the next chapter, I present a case-by-case analysis of
the data collected, offering insights into each research question while maintaining sensitivity
to the specific educational and institutional context.
To answer the first research question, I conducted one semi-structured, one-on-one
interview with each participant, lasting approximately 90 to 100 minutes. The interviews
were designed to elicit participants' conceptualizations of inclusive education and the values
and beliefs that informed their views. To address the second research question, I carried out
eight non-participant classroom observations—four per participant—each lasting
approximately one hour. Additionally, I observed a 90-minute mentoring session led by the
second participant, which provided meaningful insights into how institutional practices and
values shaped teacher perceptions. In total, I collected 11 hours and 30 minutes of
observational data and 3 hours of interview data for analysis. By using multiple methods of
data collection, I aimed to develop a nuanced and in-depth understanding of the phenomenon
under investigation, rather than merely generating breadth (Maxwell, 2013). This approach
encouraged an iterative, dialectical stance, requiring continual reflection and reassessment of
my assumptions throughout the research process.
Credibility and Trustworthiness
Bogdan and Biklen (2011) emphasize that qualitative research lies at “the intersection
of social context and biography” (as cited in Merriam & Tisdell, 2015, p. 6). Extending this
perspective, Maxwell (2013) explains that researcher bias and reactivity are two broad threats

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that must be addressed in qualitative research. As the researcher is the instrument, it is
neither possible nor appropriate to eliminate their theories, beliefs, or perceptual
lenses. On the contrary, qualitative research centers on understanding how the
researcher’s values may influence methodological choices and the analysis of
findings. Therefore, acknowledging and illuminating researcher bias is a key
component of the research design. Maxwell (2013) posits that “validity is a property
of inferences rather than methods and is never something that can be proved or taken
for granted based on methods used” (p. 121). He further states that a “validity threat: a
way you might be wrong” (p. 123) is a fundamental concept to consider. Validity
threats involve alternative ways of making sense of the data using different theoretical
lenses. As such, conceptualizing and recognizing validity threats within the research
context—and identifying strategies to address them—are essential to the integrity of a
qualitative study. Merriam and Tisdell (2015) present triangulation as the best-known
strategy to strengthen the internal validity of a qualitative study. Internal
generalizability is a key issue in ensuring the credibility of case study research.
Triangulation can be achieved through multiple approaches, including variation in
methods, data sources, and investigators. Regardless of the form it takes, triangulation
enhances the trustworthiness and credibility of the study. Merriam and Tisdell (2015)
also recommend respondent validation to clarify and verify findings, thereby
capturing the complexity and multifaceted nature of human experiences and emotions.
In this study, I employed different methods—purposeful sampling, semistructured interviews, and non-participant observations—to corroborate one another.
These methods, each with their own strengths and limitations, complemented one
another to support and validate the conclusions. A key aspect of this triangulation
process was comparing what participants articulated in interviews with what was

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observed in their classroom practices. This interpretive approach enabled me to draw
inferences about participants’ perceptions of inclusion through both their verbal
reflections and observed behaviors. In terms of data collection, I believe that my intensive,
rigorous training and extensive professional experience in education contributed to the
development of strong observational skills. Over the years, I have learned to attend carefully
to detail and to observe with intent and purpose. I have also practiced writing descriptively to
accurately capture the actions observed in a setting, while developing the discernment to
separate meaningful details from incidental ones. My doctoral coursework has further
sharpened my ability to apply rigorous methods to validate and triangulate data (Patton,
2002).
As a researcher, I recognize that reality is complex, multifaceted, and fluid, and that
my interpretations inevitably reflect my own perspective. As an expatriate living and working
in Singapore, I am aware that my values, beliefs, and professional techniques may differ from
those of the local teaching population. My understanding of inclusive education is also
predominantly informed by research originating in the global North. Maxwell (2013) reminds
us that “any view is a view from some perspective, and is therefore shaped by the location
(social and theoretical) and lens of the observer” (p. 46). I am therefore committed to raising
unconscious bias to consciousness with intent. The explicit incorporation of my identity and
experiences into the research process has been crucial in acknowledging my positionality and
using it as a reflective tool throughout the inquiry. Ultimately, I sought to apply my skills,
knowledge, and experience during the data collection process to enhance the accuracy,
authenticity, and reliability of the study. My goal was to generate a nuanced and credible
account of how primary school teachers in Singapore perceive and practice inclusive
education.

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Data Analysis
For data analysis, I manually transcribed all interviews and observations to familiarize
myself with the data prior to full analysis. Although manual transcription was timeconsuming, it allowed me to immerse myself in the content. Transcribing the interviews
before conducting the classroom observations was particularly valuable, as it helped
contextualize participants' perspectives and offered insight into how they framed their
pedagogical work. I employed a deductive thematic analysis, using themes derived from the
conceptual framework to examine participants’ perceptions and pedagogical practices. Patton
(2002) describes deductive analysis as a structured, theory-driven approach that begins with a
predefined framework to guide coding and interpretation. Accordingly, I developed a coding
scheme based on my literature review and systematically applied these codes to organize the
data. This structured approach enhanced reliability and comparability across datasets,
ensuring a focused analysis aligned with the research questions.To maintain precision and
depth, I manually coded all data using a word processor rather than specialized software. This
method allowed for close engagement with the transcripts and facilitated a detailed
examination of how teachers’ perceptions were expressed in their interview responses. It also
enabled me to cross-reference and layer these insights with my field observation notes. As a
result, I developed a comprehensive understanding of how teachers’ perceptions of inclusion
translated into classroom pedagogical practices.
Coding Scheme for Interview Data
To examine how educators’ perceptions of inclusive education are shaped by
individual experiences, societal structures, national policies, and school practices, I drew on
Bartolomé’s (2007) work on teachers’ ideologies. Rather than directly soliciting responses on
inclusive education, the semi-structured interviews explored broader influences, allowing for
a nuanced analysis of how cultural and demographic factors inform teachers’ attitudes within

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a sociocultural-historical framework. Using Saldaña’s (2021) coding methods, I categorized
interview data into six key areas: (1) situated experiences, (2) societal structures, (3) national
policies, (4) school practices, (5) roles and identities, and (6) support systems. Manually
transcribing the interviews facilitated a detailed examination of data segments, ensuring
alignment with the conceptual framework.
To refine the analysis, I applied Values Coding, which is particularly suited for
exploring cultural values, beliefs, identities, and interpersonal experiences. Through this
process, four overarching categories emerged: (a) values, (b) attitudes, (c) beliefs, and (d)
experiences. Saldaña (2021) defines values as what individuals deem important, attitudes as
how they think or feel about something, and beliefs as interpretive perceptions shaped by
values and attitudes. Wenger (2002) extends this view, asserting that values, attitudes, and
beliefs are socially constructed and evolve through historical and cultural contexts. These
coding categories revealed how educators reconciled theoretical training with cultural
expectations and institutional constraints, offering insight into the dynamic interplay between
ideology and practice in inclusive education.
Values. Schwartz and Bilsky (1987) define values as guiding principles that influence
behavior and decision-making, shaped by social, political, and institutional factors. They
argue that values emerge from universal human needs, social motives, and institutional
demands. Within this framework, values transcend specific situations and help individuals
navigate their social environments. Applying their typology, this study linked codes related to
societal structures, national policies, and situated experiences to analyze the value systems
shaping participants' perspectives. This approach allowed for a deeper understanding of how
sociocultural influences construct and reinforce values that inform teachers’ perceptions of
inclusion.

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Beliefs. Beliefs serve as cognitive frameworks that help individuals interpret their
environment and make decisions (Pajares, 1992). These mental constructs, shaped by early
experiences, social interactions, and institutional structures, are often resistant to change.
Pajares (1992) suggests that belief systems act as filters through which individuals interpret
new information, reinforcing existing perspectives. To examine how belief systems influence
teachers’ perceptions of inclusion, this study linked the codes of national policies, societal
structures, situated experiences, and roles and identities. By analyzing these connections, the
study highlights how cultural and institutional factors shape and sustain teachers' belief
systems, ultimately influencing their attitudes and practices related to inclusion.
Attitudes. Teachers’ attitudes toward inclusion are shaped by a complex interplay of
cultural, demographic, and systemic factors (van Steen & Wilson, 2020). These attitudes are
often influenced by limited resources, inadequate training, and societal norms regarding
disability and diversity. Drawing from Hofstede’s (2001) cultural dimensions, van Steen and
Wilson (2020) argue that societal perspectives on minority groups and individuals with
disabilities shape teachers’ attitudes toward inclusion. Furthermore, research suggests that
teachers’ attitudes vary depending on the type of disability, with more positive attitudes
toward students with physical disabilities than those with behavioral or learning challenges.
This study assigned the codes of situated experiences, roles and identities, school practices,
and support systems to analyze the factors influencing teachers’ attitudes. The findings reveal
that attitudes toward inclusion are not formed in isolation but are shaped by historical and
cultural contexts, institutional policies, and personal experiences.
Experiences With Inclusion. A constructivist perspective asserts that individuals
continuously construct knowledge through lived experiences and interactions with their
social environment (Merriam & Tisdell, 2015). Lochmiller and Lester (2017) emphasize that
qualitative research must consider the specific contexts in which behaviors and perceptions

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develop. Given the significance of personal experiences in shaping teachers’ perspectives,
this study categorized experience with inclusion as a key analytical dimension. The codes of
roles and identities, school practices, and support systems were applied to examine how
teachers' direct experiences with inclusion inform their perceptions. By analyzing these lived
experiences, the study offers a nuanced understanding of how educators internalize, interpret,
and apply inclusive education practices.
The coding process illuminated the systemic, cultural, and institutional factors
influencing teachers’ perceptions of inclusion, aligning with van Steen and Wilson’s (2020)
findings that such perceptions are shaped by broader sociocultural forces. By categorizing
data through structured coding, I was able to uncover deeper ideological patterns, providing
insight into how inclusion is understood, adapted, or resisted in practice. Figure 5 showcases
the codes and categories used for analyzing data from the interview. Educators’ perceptions
of inclusive education are shaped by an intricate interplay of values, beliefs, attitudes, and
experiences. These factors are embedded within broader sociocultural, historical, and
institutional contexts, influencing how teachers conceptualize and engage with inclusive
practices. By categorizing data using these four dimensions, this study seeks to uncover how
societal structures, policies, and personal experiences contribute to educators’ perspectives on
inclusion.

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Figure 5
Coding Scheme for Interview Data
Coding Scheme for Observational Data
Freire (2014) posits that pedagogy is more than a method of instruction; it reflects
societal values and represents an active commitment to shaping the future. Guided by Freire’s
perspective, I used his work as a foundational lens in the coding process for my observational
data. Drawing upon my theoretical framework, I identified key elements of pedagogical
practices demonstrated by educators and analyzed these observations through insights from
the literature review. The primary purpose of conducting classroom observations was to
address the second research question, which examines how teachers’ perceptions of inclusive
education are reflected in their pedagogical practices. Pedagogical approaches shape not only
classroom instruction but also broader social structures and power dynamics. Two distinct
constructs emerge within this discourse: normative pedagogy and transformative pedagogy.
Drawing on Freire’s Pedagogy of the Oppressed (2014) and the work of critical scholars such
as Noddings (2013) and Douglas and Nganga (2015), this study examines how these

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pedagogical models influence inclusive education. Using the literature on pedagogy, I
categorized classroom observations into two coding frameworks: Normative Pedagogy and
Transformative Pedagogy.
Normative Pedagogy. Normative pedagogy aligns with traditional educational
models that emphasize stability, compliance, and hierarchical teacher-student relationships.
Freire (2014) critiques this model, describing it as the “banking concept” of education, where
knowledge is deposited into passive students rather than co-constructed through dialogue. In
disability education, this approach often manifests through needs-based or deficit-oriented
frameworks, which focus on integrating students into pre-existing structures rather than
reimagining them (Nevin et al., 2008). While such models may appear inclusive, they often
perpetuate marginalization by maintaining traditional hierarchies and failing to challenge
systemic biases.
Observations of classroom interactions revealed that normative pedagogy is
characterized by five key elements. The first is knowledge deposit, where the teacher delivers
content unilaterally, treating students as empty vessels rather than active participants in their
own learning (Freire, 2014). This limits students’ ability to critically engage with knowledge
and fosters a passive approach to education. Similarly, monologic instruction describes a
learning environment where teachers dominate classroom discourse while students passively
listen. The absence of reciprocal engagement reinforces rigid power structures and prevents
students from developing a deeper understanding of concepts. Compliance and discipline
further exemplify normative pedagogy, as students are expected to conform without question.
Discipline in this context functions as a means of control rather than an opportunity for
personal growth or exploration. Order and regulation similarly condition students to accept
institutional authority without critically examining the structures that govern them. Finally, a
teacher-centered curriculum reinforces hierarchical power dynamics by dictating what is

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taught and how students engage with the content. This model limits students’ agency and
reduces education to rote memorization rather than a space for exploration and
transformation. As Freire (2014) argues, such an approach stifles creativity and prevents
students from seeing education as a means of transforming their reality.
Transformative Pedagogy. In contrast, transformative pedagogy reframes education
as a practice of freedom that prioritizes dialogue, critical reflection, and social action (Freire,
2014). Rooted in problem-posing education, transformative pedagogy encourages students to
question societal structures, fostering a dynamic and participatory learning environment.
Giroux (2010) expands on this perspective, asserting that transformative pedagogy demands
ethical discernment, social accountability, and active resistance to inequality. The analysis of
classroom observations identified five key constructs within transformative pedagogy. A
foundational element is the creation of a caring community, where all students feel valued
and respected. Noddings (2013) emphasizes the importance of authentic care, arguing that
education should extend beyond academic instruction to nurture students’ emotional and
social well-being. Freire (2014) similarly contends that humanization is central to education,
and without care, learning becomes a tool of dehumanization. Equally essential to
transformative pedagogy is critical reflection, which encourages students and educators to
question power structures, challenge dominant narratives, and develop social awareness.
Freire (2014) highlights that fostering critical consciousness is necessary for individuals to
understand their roles within systems of oppression. Douglas and Nganga (2015) further
argue that teaching extends beyond content delivery to help students navigate the
intersections of ideology, power, and oppression.
Transformative pedagogy also centers reciprocal relationships, shifting away from
traditional teacher-student hierarchies and fostering trust, mutual respect, and collaboration.
Douglas and Nganga (2015) describe this shift as an act of radical love, where teachers view

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students as co-learners, valuing their knowledge, experiences, and perspectives. Freire (2014)
similarly argues that education should be an interactive process in which students actively
participate in constructing knowledge. This approach disrupts traditional power dynamics by
creating spaces for shared decision-making, dialogue, and co-learning. Additionally, strengthbased instruction is a critical component of transformative pedagogy, as it recognizes
students’ potential rather than focusing on their deficits. Noddings (2013) asserts that
authentic care requires educators to identify and nurture students’ strengths, tailoring
instruction to their unique abilities. This method fosters self-confidence, motivation, and
agency in students, ultimately supporting their academic and personal growth. Another
fundamental element of transformative pedagogy is emotional literacy, which equips students
with the skills to identify, regulate, and express emotions while fostering empathy for others.
Douglas and Nganga (2015) argue that emotional literacy is essential for creating a
compassionate and socially conscious learning environment. In transformative classrooms,
teachers cultivate dialogic spaces where students feel safe to express emotions, engage in
reflective discussions, and build interpersonal skills. Freire (1997) emphasizes that education
must address not only intellectual growth but also emotional and social well-being.
Emotional literacy enables students to navigate complex social realities, build meaningful
relationships, and engage in ethical decision-making, reinforcing the broader goals of
liberatory education.
Figure 6 illustrates the subcodes and categories developed to analyze how teachers'
perceptions of inclusion manifest in their instructional strategies. These coding categories
provided a structured and systematic approach to understanding the relationship between
teachers’ beliefs and their pedagogical choices within an inclusive education framework.

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Figure 6
Coding Scheme for Observational Data
By categorizing classroom observations through these pedagogical frameworks, this
study reveals the contrasting impacts of normative and transformative pedagogy on inclusive
education. Normative approaches maintain hierarchical structures, emphasizing conformity
over inquiry, while transformative approaches cultivate critical thinkers who actively shape
their learning environments. These findings underscore the importance of rethinking
traditional educational models to foster meaningful inclusion, equity, and empowerment in
the classroom.

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Chapter Four: Findings
In this chapter, I present the findings and analysis of my study focusing on one
research participant at a time. Through the process of data collection and analysis, I
recognized the need to examine each participant’s experiences separately due to their
markedly different backgrounds and perspectives. Consequently, I have structured my
analysis into two case studies, each dedicated to one participant, aiming to construct a
“portrait” of their perceptions and practices regarding inclusive education (Merriam &
Tisdell, 2015, p. 233).
The first section of each case study explores how socio-political and historical
contexts, alongside participants’ lived experiences, have shaped their perceptions of inclusive
education. The primary data source for the first section is the semi-structured interview,
which provided insights into participants’ values, beliefs, attitudes, and experiences with
inclusion. This section directly addresses my first research question: What are primary school
teachers’ perceptions regarding inclusive education in Singapore? The second section
examines how these perceptions manifest in the participants’ pedagogical practices within
their classrooms. The analysis for the second section is primarily derived from classroom
observations conducted across multiple lessons. Additionally, I integrate findings from the
first section to understand how participants’ beliefs influence their teaching strategies and
where they lie along the spectrum of normative and transformative pedagogy. The second
section responds to my second research question: How are teachers’ perceptions revealed in
their pedagogical practices?
Given that this study investigates educators’ perceptions through the lens of their
positionalities and lived experiences, it was essential to analyze each participant within their
specific context. Adopting a narrative approach allowed for a more nuanced and
contextualized interpretation of the data rather than merely aggregating findings to answer

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the research questions. More importantly, this approach honors each participant’s voice and
experiences. I deeply appreciate the generosity of both educators in offering their time,
sharing their classrooms, and engaging in this study. Their commitment to teaching and
willingness to reflect on their practices have been invaluable to this research.
At the end of the chapter, I provide a cross-case analysis, synthesizing the findings
from both participants. This comparative analysis offers a broader understanding of the
phenomenon and enables a comprehensive response to my research questions. I also
acknowledge that my interpretations are shaped by my assumptions, positionality, and
theoretical lens. As a researcher, I recognize my role as an instrument in the data collection
and analysis process (Merriam & Tisdell, 2015). While I have made every effort to represent
participants’ perspectives accurately and neutrally, it is important to acknowledge that my
analysis is inevitably influenced by my own values and experiences. As Maxwell (2013)
asserts, "any view is a view from some perspective, and is therefore shaped by the location
(social and theoretical) and lens of the observer" (p. 46).
Case Study One: Mr. N
Mr. N, a 32-year-old novice educator of Indian ethnicity, had recently completed his
Postgraduate Diploma in Education (PGDE) at the National Institute of Education (NIE). At
the time of data collection, he was nearing the end of his three-month probationary period in
his first full-time teaching role as a Physical Education (PE) teacher for Primary 3–6 students
(ages 9–13). His participation in this study offered a unique perspective on inclusion from the
standpoint of a non-academic subject teacher, and how it shapes the perceptions of the
educator.
Mr. N’s journey into teaching was shaped by perseverance in the face of systemic and
societal barriers. Despite a long-standing passion for education, his academic struggles made
it difficult to gain admission to NIE, which is required for securing a teaching position in an

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MOE school. He recalled repeatedly applying to local universities over a span of 10 to 11
years, driven by a strong belief in the meritocratic system as the only legitimate route to
becoming a teacher. To strengthen his application, he worked as a relief teacher and later
spent two and a half years as a teaching apprentice in a SPED school. Although he found
working with students with disabilities to be "surprisingly very natural," he ultimately
pursued MOE teaching due to its greater career stability and financial security. His personal
schooling experience profoundly shaped his views on education and inclusion. He attended
one of Singapore’s top-ranked elite schools - FRI, where he struggled academically,
describing his six years there as a period of frustration and neglect. "I hated everything about
it except hockey," he admitted, recalling how he consistently failed subjects and felt
overlooked by teachers. Despite these hardships, he credited the school’s demanding
environment for instilling resilience, which fueled his persistence in applying to NIE. Mr. N’s
perspective reflects the broader societal tension between academic rigor and holistic
education in Singapore. Mr. N’s journey highlights the complexities of meritocracy, social
mobility, and inclusion within the education system. His story underscores the need for
structural reforms that ensure equitable access to education and career opportunities,
particularly for individuals who do not conform to conventional academic trajectories.
Learning Spaces
PE lessons at the school are structured into 60- or 90-minute blocks. Lower primary
students (Primary 1 to 3) have two 60-minute sessions per week, while upper primary
students (Primary 4 to 6) have one 90-minute and one 60-minute session weekly. Lessons
typically take place in covered assembly or PE halls with polished wooden floors (85 × 75 sq.
ft.), though some sessions occur on an open grass turf or parade square, each approximately
half the size of a standard football field.

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As a novice teacher, Mr. N preferred to conduct lessons in covered areas, avoiding
outdoor spaces due to concerns about modifying lesson plans during inclement weather. His
reluctance highlights the challenges new teachers face in adapting to unforeseen
circumstances. During the PSLE period for Primary Six students, PE lessons were altered to
in-class activities, such as completing worksheets or PE journal entries. School policies
prohibited noisy activities, affecting not only Primary Six students but also other grade levels.
This practice illustrates how academic priorities take precedence over non-academic subjects,
reinforcing the structural constraints placed on physical education in high-stakes testing
environments.
Profile of Classrooms Observed
To examine variations in Mr. N’s instructional and communication styles across
different age groups, I sought his permission to observe two classes—one from lower
primary and one from upper primary. This comparative approach aimed to provide insights
into how his teaching strategies adapted based on student age and classroom composition.
For the lower primary observation, I observed a Primary 3 class of 35 students, which Mr. N
had described as particularly challenging to manage. The class included four students with
mild to severe hearing loss who used assistive technology, one student with visual
impairment due to albinism, and another diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity
Disorder (ADHD). For the upper primary observation, I observed a Primary 5 class of 30
students, which included two students with moderate hearing loss using cochlear implants
and two students with ADHD. These observations offered valuable insights into how Mr. N
adapted his teaching to meet diverse learning needs in a PE setting. They also highlighted the
complexities of fostering inclusive learning environments across different developmental
stages.

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Findings for Research Question One
This section analyzes Mr. N’s perceptions using the coding scheme outlined in Figure
5, applying lenses from the conceptual framework. Interview excerpts are used to interpret
how socio-cultural and historical contexts shape educational perceptions. The analysis
examines hegemonic narratives, dominant societal and institutional practices, and personal
experiences to deconstruct Mr. N’s responses and understand the factors influencing his
views on education and inclusion.
Value Systems
This section examines the codes assigned to the category of value systems, as shown
in Figure 5.
Societal Structures. Educators’ perceptions of inclusion in Singapore were deeply
influenced by societal structures that emphasized academic excellence, meritocracy, and
efficiency over individualized learning needs (Ho, 2013; Sharpe & Gopinathan, 2002). The
high-stakes, exam-driven education system, particularly the Primary School Leaving
Examination (PSLE), played a central role in shaping these attitudes (Deng & Gopinathan,
2016). Within this context, inclusion was often assessed in relation to academic success,
reinforcing the marginalization of non-academic subjects such as Physical Education, Art,
and Music. Mr. N’s educational and professional experiences illustrated how Singapore’s
meritocratic system had shaped his value system regarding hierarchy and achievement. He
acknowledged the systemic prioritization of examinable subjects, stating, “So as long as
PSLE exists, then PE, art, music takes a step back.” He further reflected, “For PE, if a student
cannot meet the objective, it doesn’t affect their future. So, inclusion is easier.” These
statements suggested that while inclusion in non-academic subjects may have been more
feasible, it was often perceived as less critical compared to inclusion in examinable subjects.
His perspective underscored a significant challenge in inclusive education—if inclusion was

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seen as secondary in non-examinable subjects, it risked being overlooked in policy and
practice. This tension between academic priorities and holistic education highlighted broader
structural concerns. While Singapore has made strides toward integrating inclusive education,
the emphasis on standardized testing and academic achievement continued to shape how
educators perceived and implemented inclusion. If non-academic subjects remained
undervalued, the potential of PE, Art, and Music as inclusive spaces that supported diverse
learners might not be fully realized.
Another key tension in Mr. N’s reflections was the disconnect between Western
theories of inclusion and the educational realities in Asian contexts. Scholars argue that
inclusive education is interpreted differently across cultural settings, and policies must align
with local social and educational structures to be effective (Armstrong et al., 2010; Strogilos
& Avramidis, 2017). Mr. N’s comments illustrated this divide: “…it’s a common open secret
that this will work only in Western countries, in white countries. In Asian countries, we still
conform to our Asian values and ways.” His statement suggested a perception that Western
inclusion models might not align with Singapore’s emphasis on academic achievement,
standardization, and conformity. Mr. N’s viewpoint reflected broader societal attitudes in
Singapore, where success was largely defined by educational attainment. He reinforced this
by stating, “Let’s stop beating around the bush. …it is going to be this way, PSLE; O levels;
A levels; University. …The government is going to employ only local grads. …Then we
need our zero voice level. We need our conformity.” His remarks highlighted how deeply
ingrained academic pathways shaped both individual aspirations and broader educational
policies. The preference for local university graduates further reinforced the perception that
social mobility and career success were tightly linked to academic credentials. Mr. N’s
reflections revealed a fundamental challenge in implementing inclusive education in
Singapore—balancing the push for academic excellence with the need for individualized,

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student-centered learning. His perspective underscored the systemic and cultural barriers that
influenced educators’ views on inclusion, highlighting the need for policies that recognized
and integrated local educational realities while fostering inclusive practices.
National Policies. Walker and Musti-Rao (2016) highlight Singapore’s paradoxical
position as a country with both the resources and vision for inclusion but without national
policies that fully support individuals with special needs. The dual education system, which
separates students with disabilities from their peers in mainstream schools, contradicts
national rhetoric promoting a more inclusive society, as outlined in the Enabling Master Plan
(La Salle & Johnson, 2018; MOE, 2023; MSF, 2021). Mr. N critiqued the inherent
contradiction between national policies that upheld meritocracy while promoting inclusion,
viewing this dichotomy as a significant barrier to inclusive practices. As he stated, “If the end
goal is still examination, what’s the point of inclusion?” The emphasis on meritocracy
fostered a competitive environment where students with additional needs were often viewed
as obstacles. Mr. N described how educators in high-performing schools might have seen
these students as a burden, remarking, “…they have to keep up the rigor. So, these students
who are in their classes are a burden to them.” This reflected a systemic issue where inclusion
was valued in theory but deemed impractical in an education system driven by academic
performance.
The marginalization of students with disabilities extended beyond mainstream
education to the SPED sector. Mr. N’s experience as a SEN educator highlighted disparities
between SPED and mainstream MOE schools, particularly in terms of prestige and pay. He
observed that “AEDs are looked at as second-class citizens because they earn less,” revealing
the undervaluation of special education compared to mainstream teaching roles. This
systemic bias, which prioritized academic achievement over holistic education, also
contributed to the sidelining of non-academic subjects like PE, Art, and Music. Furthermore,

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Mr. N perceived inclusion as a Western concept that did not fully align with Asian
educational values, where academic excellence and conformity took precedence. His
reflections underscored the cultural and systemic barriers that hindered inclusive practices,
reinforcing the need for national policies that moved beyond meritocratic ideals to create
truly inclusive learning environments.
Situated Experience. Mr. N’s experiences as both a student and an educator
illustrated the rigid societal, national, and academic structures that shaped Singapore’s
education system. His struggles highlighted the pressures of meritocracy, systemic
inflexibility, and cultural norms that made inclusion more of a challenge than an attainable
goal. His persistent attempts to gain admission to NIE underscored the unforgiving nature of
an education system that limited opportunities for students who did not meet academic
benchmarks. The emphasis on university prestige reinforced the notion that an individual’s
worth was tied to academic performance rather than personal strengths or alternative skills.
Singapore’s national narrative equated success with academic excellence, perpetuating
exclusion. As Mr. N observed, “We have been grilled in the head that getting good grades is
the passport to success.” This rigid definition fostered anxiety among parents and educators
working with students with diverse learning needs. National policies require parents of
students with SEN to pay for psychological assessments before their child can be admitted to
a mainstream or SPED school (MOE, 2025; Strogilos & Lim, 2019). This financial and
structural barrier reflected the disconnect between aspirations for inclusion and actual policy
support.
Mr. N further questioned the long-term impact of inclusion, stating, “…are very good
jobs targeted for adults with special needs. If that is the end goal, then why include them in
the first place? ...Because we don't live in a society that promotes or champions inclusion in
the workplace.” His remarks highlighted the gap between educational inclusion and

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employment opportunities for individuals with disabilities. Although the Compulsory
Education Act was expanded in 2019 to include children with disabilities (Poon, 2002), the
divide between mainstream and SPED education persists. Mr. N believed some parents were
in “denial” when enrolling their children in mainstream schools, assuming they could cope
academically. His perspective underscored the tension between the ideal of inclusion and
societal expectations that prioritized academic performance over holistic support.
Belief Systems
This section examines the codes assigned to the category of belief systems, as shown
in Figure 5.
Societal Structures. Walker and Musti-Rao (2016) highlight a major disparity in
education, which arises from the differences in teacher preparation and training requirements
for mainstream and special education schools. Mr. N’s personal experience reflected the
stringent requirements expected of prospective mainstream teachers, while the path to
becoming a special needs educator was not nearly as comprehensive. Referring again to Mr.
N’s experience, he was able to secure a job in a prominent SPED school as a teacher
apprentice without any prior knowledge or experience: “I applied for a teaching apprentice
role in RC. So that was my first entrance into SPED. Okay, so I've never taught SPED before.
I didn't know anything about it.” This disparity led to a devaluation of SPED educators by
mainstream teachers. Mr. N encapsulated this belief when he remarked, “AEDs are looked at
as second-class citizens because they make less. Why become an AED when I can become a
teacher?” Interestingly, despite these attitudes, AEDs were more extensively trained to work
with students with special needs, and their services were highly sought after, given the
limited number of trained AEDs across primary schools. However, based on national policies
related to pay scales, their profession was not highly valued or respected within Singapore’s
schools. These disparities contributed to the development of belief systems that categorized

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people with disabilities, and those who served them, as “second-class” or marginalized
citizens.
National Policies. Strogilos and Lim (2019) explain that Singapore adopts an
integration model of inclusion, in which students with milder disabilities are granted access
to mainstream classrooms if they can cope with standardized academic demands. Many
educators believe that students with more severe learning, behavioral, or sensory challenges
are better served in SPED schools. This belief is supported by Yeo et al. (2016), who found
that teachers often perceive students with significant disabilities as disruptive to the learning
of others and view it as unfair to expect all students and teachers to accommodate them. Mr.
N echoed this sentiment, particularly regarding students who were difficult to manage:
“Essentially, because I need to move at a certain pace, if I cannot include them [SEN
students], then I’ll just dump them and focus on the 28 other children.” This quote illustrated
the conflict between inclusive intentions and classroom realities, and provided a clear insight
into Mr. N’s perception regarding inclusion of students with special needs.
Walker and Musti-Rao (2016) and Poon et al. (2013) similarly note that although
mainstream teachers may support the principle of inclusion, the pressure to cover the
curriculum and prepare students for the PSLE, combined with instructional challenges, can
lead to frustration and resentment. In their study involving 202 educators across 41 primary
schools, Yeo et al. (2016) reported that many teachers believed only students with mild
disabilities should be included in mainstream classrooms. Mr. N succinctly captured the
tension between professional expectations and personal beliefs when he stated, “I am all for
inclusion. But then what about when it comes to studies? Which, at the end of the day, is our
primary focus.”
Situated Experiences. Mr. N worked in a SPED school for two years despite having
no prior experience with students with disabilities. His experience reflected a broader issue in

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Singapore, where limited interaction with individuals with disabilities was a common
challenge among educators (Blackbox Research, 2016a; Strogilos & Lim, 2019; Thaver et al.,
2014; Yeo et al., 2016). In a study by Thaver et al. (2014), nearly 75% of 1,538 pre-service
teachers reported minimal or no contact with people with disabilities. Mr. N shared a similar
background, stating, “I have never taught SPED before. I didn’t know anything about it. My
background, family, friends—honestly, I can't remember having any friends with special
needs, whether physical or mental.” Despite this, he found working with students with
disabilities to be “surprisingly very natural” and approached his role pragmatically, stating,
“These are just any other children, any other students, so I’m just going to treat them like
how they are.” Although he received little formal training, he fondly recalled his time in
SPED, describing it as a positive and enjoyable experience.
At his current school, Mr. N acknowledged his limited knowledge about students with
hearing loss, stating, “Okay, for students with hearing loss, maybe because I’m just too new,
so I haven’t been able to understand fully.” While he lacked familiarity with communication
protocols, he instinctively rejected ineffective strategies such as shouting and instead focused
on building rapport. Dignath et al. (2022) emphasize that teachers’ belief systems—
encompassing cognitive, emotional, and self-efficacy components—strongly influence their
willingness to adapt practices. Positive emotions such as empathy and satisfaction motivate
teachers to engage in inclusive practices. Mr. N’s empathetic approach, despite challenges,
demonstrated his commitment to inclusion. He also believed that teaching a non-examinable
subject like PE allowed for greater flexibility, stating, “That works in my favor, because I can
just differentiate the lesson.” His perspective highlighted how structural factors influenced
the feasibility of inclusive practices in Singapore’s education system.
Roles and Identities. Mr. N’s role as a non-academic educator significantly shaped
his perceptions of himself and his responsibilities within the organization. The societal and

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policy narratives surrounding his subject further influenced his pedagogy and beliefs about
inclusion. As a new teacher, he was still navigating the support systems available but had not
yet sought guidance from his Head of Department (HOD) or school administration. His
reflections revealed his internal struggle in balancing inclusion, classroom needs, and his role
as an educator, as seen in his statement: “I am not an academic teacher, but even as a PE
teacher, how much can I shout or scold? And then, after half an hour…I will focus on the
other 29. It’s very normal.” Dignath et al. (2022) argue that teachers often exhibit
ambivalence toward inclusive education, influenced by personal experiences, professional
training, and systemic support. To shift attitudes toward inclusion, educators require targeted
training that is practical and applicable in real classroom settings. Mr. N shared that he
received no hands-on training from the NIE or his school to implement theoretical knowledge
effectively. He expressed skepticism about applying theory in real-life situations, stating,
“This is theory lah, we try our best in the real classroom… If cannot, it's fine.” Poon et al.
(2013) highlight how mainstream education programs include theoretical discussions on
inclusion but lack practical training. Mr. N’s pragmatic yet constrained approach reflected
these systemic gaps, shaping his belief system about his role in fostering an inclusive learning
environment.
Attitudes
This section examines the codes assigned to the category of attitudes, as shown in
Figure 5.
Situated Experiences. Weng et al. (2015) argue that negative perceptions of
disability among teachers and peers contribute to the marginalization of students with SEN in
mainstream schools. The research highlights teachers’ concerns about managing students
with SEN, particularly regarding their impact on classroom behavior and academic
performance. Mr. N expressed similar frustrations, recalling a Primary 3 student who was

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transferred to a SPED school. He questioned whether the child’s parents understood the
burden their son placed on teachers and peers, stating, “Do they know that the son is literally,
physically hitting their friends every day…?” His comments reflected the stigma surrounding
students with disabilities and the challenges of accommodating them in a mainstream setting.
Avramidis and Norwich (2002) found that teachers’ attitudes toward inclusion depend
on the nature of students’ disabilities. While teachers are generally open to including students
with mild difficulties, they express reluctance when students require additional management
strategies. Mr. N shared that his biggest challenge had been a Primary 3 class with three
students with hearing loss and one student with ADHD. He believed that their behavior,
rather than their disabilities, impacted their learning: “But in terms of behavior, it's quite
polarized…. the three I have with hearing loss, they are the ones who are very left behind in
terms of their interactive skills. They are not able to participate in group work effectively.”
He found the students with hearing loss more difficult to manage due to their lack of
participation and social engagement, stating, “The difficulty is because of their behavior. I’m
pretty sure they do understand instructions… but they just don’t participate actively.” His
frustration aligned with findings from Thaver et al. (2014), Poon et al. (2013), and Weng et
al. (2015), which indicate that teach.
Roles and Identities. Mr. N acknowledged that as a new teacher, he was still learning
how to work effectively with students with hearing loss and learning difficulties. He believed
the school strongly supported inclusion, describing it as an "ingrained" culture where “every
teacher just finds something for the students to do.” Although the school did not implement
Individualized Education Plans (IEPs) for students with special learning needs, he felt that all
students were fully included. He attributed this success to the principal’s clear vision, stating,
“We are an inclusive school. This is the focus.” Research highlights the pivotal role of school
leadership in fostering inclusive environments. Avramidis and Norwich (2002) argue that a

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principal’s beliefs about mixed-ability classrooms significantly influence school culture and
inclusive teaching practices. Kennedy (2019) further emphasizes the principal’s role in
shaping school climate and ensuring student safety. Mr. N’s perception of inclusion was
strongly tied to his school’s leadership, reinforcing the idea that a supportive institutional
identity can facilitate inclusive practices.
Another key theme in Mr. N’s reflections was his emphasis on student safety,
particularly in physical education. He believed his primary role was to maintain safety
through “verbal instruction” and “reinforcement.” For instance, he strategically grouped
students to prevent injuries, particularly in his “rowdy” Primary 3 class, where he placed
certain boys in a designated area to minimize risks. While his focus on safety was wellintended, his assumptions about boys' behavior and the need for separation reflect implicit
biases reinforced by school and national narratives. His approach, though protective, may
unintentionally promoted segregation rather than integration, particularly for students with
additional needs.
School Practices. The school in the study strongly emphasized Catholic values, using
them as a framework for managing student behavior. Strict adherence to rules was reinforced
during assemblies, transitions, and in the classroom, with students reprimanded or punished
for failing to meet expectations. Mr. N acknowledged this structured approach, stating, “I
may not believe in those things, but I have to conform to the school’s ideology. … The
school says zero voice level or perfect listening posture, then they have to do it.” His
statement reflected the broader cultural emphasis on conformity within Singapore’s education
system, aligning with Lee Kuan Yew’s vision of a disciplined, hierarchical society (Lee K.,
1966). Singapore’s mainstream schools were expected to cultivate civic consciousness and
compliance with rules, reinforcing a structured, top-down model of education (Lim et al.,
2014). Mr. N also grappled with managing student behavior, torn between adopting a

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student-driven approach and conforming to the school's rigid expectations. He reflected on a
lesson that required collaboration and problem-solving, questioning whether to embrace a
more open, Western approach or enforce strict discipline: “So, do I allow the Western way?
Let’s share ideas, let’s talk, let’s experiment? Or shall I conform to, everyone please keep
quiet, and behave yourselves?” His frustration highlighted the tension between theory and
practice. Societal expectations shaped school policies, which in turn influenced teachers’
attitudes toward inclusive education. As he summarized, “At the end of the day, if I need to
ensure that everyone has zero voice level, then how much can I allow them…?”
Support Systems. The school in the study had a multi-tiered support system to
promote inclusive education, including two SENOs, learning support educators, eight AEDs
to support students with hearing loss, and seven TSNs. Additional services from the Child
Development Unit included speech therapists, audiologists, clinical psychologists, and social
workers. However, from an educator’s perspective, these resources remained insufficient
given class sizes of 30 to 33 students. Mr. N highlighted this challenge, stating, “The ratio of
teacher to student already makes it a challenge, or I would say, near impossible, to even try
out something.” Research by Yeo et al. (2016) and Thaver et al. (2014) similarly identified
large class sizes, lack of classroom support, and the demands of high-stakes examinations as
major barriers to inclusive education.
Mr. N emphasized that “manpower is a big issue” and believed that inclusion would
have been more feasible if mainstream teachers had received additional in-class support. Lim
et al. (2014) found that AEDs in mainstream schools often experienced unclear professional
identities, being viewed either as “a resource person with information on students with
disabilities” or “a babysitter for students who are disruptive in class” (p. 131). Mr. N
supported inclusion but believed that AEDs and SENOs—not mainstream teachers—should
have taken primary responsibility for supporting students with special needs. While he

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appreciated the immediate support from the SENO in handling a disruptive student, he
viewed such interventions as temporary “plasters” rather than long-term solutions. He
expressed frustration over the lack of training in working with students with hearing loss,
suggesting that all teachers should have received some sign language instruction. However,
in the same breath, he resisted formal training, stating that he would rather “just learn it for
fun” than take on additional coursework and responsibilities.
Experiences With Inclusion
This section examines the codes assigned to the category of experiences with
inclusion, as shown in Figure 5.
Roles and Identities. Mr. N’s experiences with inclusion were shaped by his role as a
PE teacher, school practices, and available support systems. While his subject allowed for
greater flexibility in implementing inclusive strategies, he acknowledged that sustaining
inclusion was more difficult in examinable subjects. He believed inclusion was easier in PE
because it was non-examinable, citing how his Primary 4 students supported a classmate with
autism. However, he remained skeptical about inclusion in high-stakes academic settings,
stating, “…but then what about when it comes to studies? Which at the end of the day is our
primary focus?” Mr. N also believed the student-teacher ratio was not conducive to inclusive
practices, stating, “I get extra support for these five students. They may fail the exams…but
the 25 who want to do well, they will be fine.” His view reflected broader concerns
highlighted in the literature that mainstream education was not suitable for all students with
special educational needs. Research suggested that many teachers believed students with
moderate to severe disabilities would be better served in SPED schools (Levan & Tan, 1999;
Poon, 2022; Walker & Musti-Rao, 2016).
School Practices. Mr. N shared positive experiences regarding inclusive practices in
his current school, contrasting them with previous schools where inclusion had not been

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prioritized. He credited the school leadership for fostering an inclusive culture, stating, “I've
never had a principal who dares to articulate that… it's the top-down mindset. …So, I think
that really is the main thing, the direction of the school leaders have taken that values
inclusion.” He observed that teachers, particularly in the PE department, naturally
incorporated inclusive practices without making them a focal issue, reinforcing his belief that
inclusion was shaped more by leadership and school culture than by national policies.
The school provided a broad Scheme of Work (SOW) through the Head of
Department (HOD), but teachers were not required to submit lesson plans or create
differentiated lesson plans for students with special learning needs. This practice reflected an
integration model rather than true inclusion (Strogilos & Lim, 2019). Integration placed
students with disabilities in mainstream schools but expected them to adapt to standardized
expectations, whereas inclusion involved systemic changes to teaching methods and
structures to remove learning barriers. Yeo et al. (2014) similarly found that teachers
deprioritized Individualized Education Plans (IEPs) due to the focus on high-stakes exams
like the Primary School Leaving Examination (PSLE). Mr. N recalled an instance with a
student with ADHD, where the Special Educational Needs Officer (SENO) advised him to
allow the student to participate only when willing, without enforcing inclusion or developing
an IEP. Since modifying lesson plans was not a common practice, inclusion was treated as
optional rather than mandatory. Mr. N, as a new teacher, accepted this approach, stating, “So
this is what he has been going through the past four years in school, it's too late for me to
say—you must participate.”
Support Systems. The experiences shared by Mr. N about the support he received in
school highlighted a reactive rather than a proactive approach to supporting students with
special educational needs. Given the limited number of SPED staff available to support a
large student population, it was understandable that the school adopted this stance. Mr. N

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recounted a situation in which a boy refused to leave his classroom and follow the rest of the
class to the sports hall for a PE lesson. In response, he called the Special Educational Needs
Officer (SENO) for assistance. He described the incident, stating, “So I left him with them
and I took the rest to the hall. I have no idea what happened. Forty-five minutes later, he
came back to the class with the SENO, and he was perfectly fine.”
The experience underscored Mr. N’s reliance on external support staff and reflected
his perception that inclusive teaching depended on the availability of additional resources.
His account reinforced the belief that mainstream teachers alone could not fully implement
inclusion without adequate structural support. To foster a more sustainable and proactive
approach to inclusion, Yeo et al. (2016) and Lim et al. (2014) advocated for the development
of “communities of partnership” between Allied Educators (AEDs) and mainstream
educators. These collaborative communities would have allowed educators to learn from one
another and develop a shared purpose in their educational mission, ultimately strengthening
inclusive practices within schools.
Findings for Research Question Two
This section examines how teachers’ perceptions shape their classroom practices. By
analyzing classroom observations, this study identifies how teachers adapt instructional
methods to support students with diverse learning needs. Applying the lens of transformative
and normative pedagogical practices, the analysis explores the relationship between
educators’ beliefs and their teaching approaches. Freire (2014) argues that pedagogy reflects
societal values and commitments, while Pajares (1992) emphasizes that teachers’ beliefs are
evident in their actions. Through observational data, this study operationalizes abstract
concepts such as perception, offering insight into how educators’ values influence their
practices.

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For Mr. N, I conducted four lesson observations across two different classes in varied
locations: two Primary 3 lessons, one in the assembly hall and another in the classroom, and
two Primary 5 lessons, one in the classroom and the other in the sports hall, totaling five
hours of observation. The selection of both lower and upper primary classes allowed for an
analysis of differences in Mr. N’s instructional and communication styles across student age
groups. I integrated the interview data throughout this section to connect his perceptions with
his teaching practices. I coded the data from the observation and aggregated it based on
interactions, instructional practices, and provisions, tracking their frequency to identify
trends. Patterns revealed a dynamic interplay between normative and transformative
pedagogy. While teacher-centered instruction and compliance-based discipline were
dominant, moments of student engagement and individualized support demonstrated
emerging transformative practices. As shown in Tables 1 and 2, teaching approaches exist
along a continuum, shaped by situational and contextual factors rather than rigid instructional
methods.
Table 1
Instances of Mr. N’s Normative Pedagogical Practices Across Five Hours of Observation
Observations Knowledge
deposit
Monologic
instruction
Compliance
and
discipline
Order and
regulation
Teachercentered
curriculum
Observation One
(Primary 3 in
Assembly Hall)
9 15 11 13 14
Observation Two
(Primary 3 in
Classroom)
9 8 11 9 12
Observation Three
(Primary 5 in Sports
Hall)
13 16 20 15 19
Observation Four
(Primary 5 in
Classroom)
12 14 13 12 15

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Table 2
Instances of Mr. N’s Transformative Pedagogical Practices Across Five Hours of
Observation
Observations Caring
community
Critical
reflection
Reciprocal
relationships
Strengthbased
instruction
Emotional
literacy
Observation One
(Primary 3 in
Assembly Hall)
6 2 7 4 2
Observation Two
(Primary 3 in
Classroom)
10 10 12 9 7
Observation Three
(Primary 5 in Sports
Hall)
5 12 12 6 3
Observation Four
(Primary 5 in
Classroom)
11 16 18 12 5
Normative Pedagogical Practices
This section examines the codes assigned to the category of normative pedagogical
practices, as shown in Figure 6.
Compliance and Discipline; Order and Regulation. Mr. N’s observation sessions
revealed that his limited experience as an MOE educator significantly influenced his
pedagogical practices. Unlike SPED schools, MOE schools enrolled more students per class.
His unfamiliarity with managing mainstream classrooms of over thirty students hindered his
ability to scaffold learning effectively across different settings. Observations showed that
when lessons took place in the physical education (PE) or assembly hall, he predominantly
relied on normative pedagogical practices focused on compliance, discipline, and order.
Coding analyses confirmed a higher frequency of these practices in open spaces, as shown in
Tables 1 and 2, where lessons conducted in the assembly and sports halls featured more
instances of normative pedagogy than transformative approaches.

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Mr. N frequently used a whistle to command students’ attention, reinforce discipline,
and regulate behavior. He also raised his voice or reprimanded students who were not
following instructions or engaging in what he perceived as unnecessary talking. His reliance
on strict behavioral management reflected his perception of the school’s expectations
regarding student discipline and structured learning environments. He was particularly
conscious of how his class might be perceived by school leaders, reinforcing his preference
for order over engagement. Erevelles (2000) argued that educational institutions train
students to regulate their bodies to minimize distractions from intellectual tasks, thereby
reinforcing ableist structures within classrooms. The emphasis on discipline, time
management, and spatial organization reflected broader societal expectations of order. These
normative approaches to classroom management aligned with Singapore’s broader
educational culture, where regulation and discipline were prioritized over student-centered
engagement.
Beyond Mr. N’s individual teaching practices, his struggles highlighted broader
systemic issues. The lack of planning, guidance, and support from his Head of Department
(HOD) was evident. He faced particular difficulties in accommodating students with hearing
loss and other learning needs, yet national policies and school practices did not require
mainstream teachers to develop differentiated lesson plans for these students. The assumption
that only students with mild disabilities—those who could access the mainstream
curriculum—would be included in general education settings absolved teachers of the
responsibility to adapt their lessons (Levan & Tan, 1999; Poon, 2022). Erevelles (2011)
critiqued this integration model of inclusion, arguing that individuals with disabilities must
prove their ability to participate in an able-bodied world while striving for normative
acceptance. In this context, Mr. N’s rigid adherence to discipline, lack of differentiation, and

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reluctance to engage reflectively with student needs were not merely individual shortcomings
but symptoms of a broader institutional failure to support inclusive education.
Monologic Instruction; Teacher-Centered Curriculum. Across different
instructional settings, Mr. N’s pedagogical approach consistently prioritized compliance,
regulation, and teacher authority over student engagement and autonomy. This pattern was
evident in both physical education (PE) and classroom-based lessons, where students were
expected to follow rigid structures with minimal agency in their learning process. In a
Primary 5 gymnastics lesson, students were required to work in pairs to design and execute
an eight-part routine incorporating elements of balance, locomotion, and rotation. Although
the task had the potential to encourage collaboration and creativity, the lesson execution
remained firmly situated within normative pedagogical practices. Mr. N assigned mixedgender pairs without consulting students, a decision that visibly affected engagement. Several
pairs remained disengaged and did not communicate for the first 10 minutes, yet Mr. N
ignored their discomfort and provided no guidance or discussion prompts. His authoritative
approach became more evident when he abruptly raised his voice and commanded, “…by the
time I come around again, I need to see four activities planned.” When students hesitated, he
directed them to attempt a balancing exercise that required close physical contact.
A notable incident occurred when a student with a cochlear implant expressed
concerns about performing a forward roll due to the potential risk to her device. Instead of
acknowledging her apprehension and providing an alternative, Mr. N dismissed her concerns
and instructed her to remove the implant and proceed. This interaction highlighted a missed
opportunity to cultivate emotional literacy by fostering a dialogic space where students could
express their feelings, engage in reflective dialogue, and develop self-regulation. Instead, his
monologic, task-oriented teaching style reinforced hierarchical power dynamics, suppressed
student agency, and prioritized task completion over meaningful participation. Following the

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lesson, Mr. N explained that the school administration had mandated mixed-gender pairings,
citing a need for students to learn to work with the opposite gender. While Mr. N admitted
discomfort with enforcing this policy, he believed he had “no choice” in the matter. This
scenario exemplified Kumashiro’s (2000) argument that oppression in schools is often
perpetuated through both action and inaction. When institutional policies overrode student
agency and emotional well-being, learning environments became alienating rather than
affirming. Instead of advocating for a student-centered approach, Mr. N’s strict adherence to
policy reinforced compliance-based instruction, limiting opportunities for inclusive and
differentiated learning.
The teacher-centered approach was also evident in a Primary 3 PE lesson, which had
been moved to a classroom setting due to Primary School Leaving Examination (PSLE)
preparations. Instead of engaging in physical activity, students were required to complete a
written graded assignment based on a previous outdoor education activity. Mr. N explained
that these desk-based tasks were dictated by the Ministry of Education (MOE) and left no
room for modifications. His dissatisfaction with the activity was apparent, yet he emphasized
that teachers were required to submit completed activity sheets to the MOE at the end of the
academic year, reinforcing a top-down curriculum model that prioritized bureaucratic
compliance over student learning. The lesson exemplified Freire’s (2014) "banking model of
education," in which students were treated as passive recipients of knowledge rather than
active participants in learning. The emphasis on grades over curiosity discouraged deeper
inquiry and reinforced a performance-based culture (Giroux, 2010). Strict behavioral control
was also evident, as students were not allowed to move freely, with washroom breaks
contingent on task completion. When a student entered the classroom without permission,
Mr. N made him step outside, seek permission, and re-enter—a practice that reflected an
authoritative classroom management model that prioritized order over engagement. hooks

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(1994) warned that such rigid structures reinforced power hierarchies, creating environments
where students felt monitored and controlled rather than respected and engaged.
A particularly concerning classroom practice was the physical separation of students
with diagnosed learning needs. In both Primary 3 and Primary 5 classrooms, two students
with learning differences were seated away from the rest of the class, either at the back corner
or next to the teacher’s desk. This exclusionary seating arrangement suggested that their
placement served as a disciplinary or behavioral management strategy rather than an effort to
provide differentiated support. Kumashiro (2000) critiqued this form of incomplete
knowledge, where students who did not conform to normative learning expectations were
positioned as deviant rather than as diverse learners. The hidden curriculum in such
classrooms implicitly communicated that disability equated to deficiency rather than
diversity, reinforcing ableist assumptions within the education system. These practices
shaped teachers’ attitudes toward inclusion, as evidenced by Mr. N’s perception that students
with disabilities and behavioral challenges were a “burden” on the system. His reluctance to
challenge structural limitations further reinforced a school culture that prioritized compliance
and discipline over inclusive, student-centered learning.
Transformative Pedagogical Practices
This section examines the codes assigned to the category of transformative
pedagogical practices, as shown in Figure 6.
Caring Community; Reciprocal Relationship. Mr. N’s pedagogical strengths were
most evident in small-group and one-on-one instruction, reflecting his prior training in
special education (SPED) schools. Across all four classroom observations, he consistently
provided individualized support, particularly in classroom-based lessons. As shown in Tables
1 and 2, reciprocal relationships between teacher and students were more pronounced in these
settings. He connected more effectively with older students, frequently adjusting his approach

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by physically guiding them, explaining concepts at their level, and expressing gratitude at the
end of each lesson. This approach fostered mutual respect and engagement, aligning with
Noddings’ (2013) argument that recognizing students’ unique needs and experiences
enhances learning outcomes. During a Primary 5 physical education (PE) lesson, Mr. N
openly communicated with students about needing to rush due to a personal commitment.
Despite this, he acknowledged their efforts and expressed appreciation for their work,
reinforcing Douglas and Nganga’s (2015) concept of radical love, where reciprocal
relationships in education are built on trust, respect, and co-learning rather than enforcing
hierarchical boundaries. A notable strength of Mr. N’s teaching was his use of humor to build
rapport, particularly with younger students. His ability to generate laughter and foster
engagement helped humanize the classroom environment, reduce power imbalances, and
encourage comfortable student interactions.
Additionally, Mr. N’s practice of code-switching into Tamil or Malay when speaking
to students from minority communities demonstrated his commitment to cultural
responsiveness. By acknowledging students’ linguistic identities, he validated their cultural
heritage and removed language barriers to learning. hooks (1994) emphasized that learning
environments should respect students’ diverse backgrounds, promoting inclusive and
democratic education. When asked about his use of native languages, Mr. N shared that his
personal experiences as a minority student in mainstream schools had shaped his
understanding of the challenges faced by underrepresented students. He described school as a
lonely journey for many minority students, reinforcing the importance of culturally
responsive teaching. His efforts to connect with students through language and shared
experiences underscored the need for educators to cultivate inclusive classrooms that affirm
students’ identities and create a sense of belonging (Douglas & Nganga, 2015).

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Critical reflection; Strength-based instruction. Despite challenges in understanding
and effectively supporting students, Mr. N demonstrated moments of critical reflection in his
classroom practices. In a Primary 3 class, a student, JB, was widely labeled as “challenging”
due to his tendency to question authority and disrupt classroom norms. Seated separately
from his peers, JB’s placement reinforced a disciplinary approach to classroom management.
However, Mr. N occasionally engaged in dialogue beyond power structures, encouraging JB
to critically reflect on his behavior and develop self-awareness. Douglas and Nganga (2015)
argue that critical reflection through caring dialogue provides both students and educators
with transformative tools to understand the intersections of ideology, power, and social
structures.
During a Primary 5 lesson, Mr. N’s pedagogical approach shifted between normative
and transformative practices. While some students struggled with mixed-gender
collaboration, the majority engaged actively. Mr. N interacted with each pair, assisted them
based on their strengths, and encouraged problem-solving rather than imposing rigid
solutions. Unlike his strict, compliance-driven approach in other lessons, he recognized
student agency and fostered exploration, aligning with strength-based instruction, a key
element of transformative pedagogy. Noddings (2013) argues that authentic care requires
educators to recognize students’ strengths, tailor instruction accordingly, and encourage coconstruction of knowledge. From his interviews, Mr. N expressed support for inclusion,
embracing a pragmatic approach to integrating students with learning needs. He
acknowledged that non-examinable subjects provided greater flexibility for differentiated
instruction, allowing him to support students at their own pace. His belief in respect and care
influenced his pedagogical decisions, and his SPED training enabled him to develop strong
small-group connections beyond hierarchical structures. While his teaching was often

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constrained by institutional norms, these moments of critical reflection and student-centered
instruction suggested his potential for transformative teaching when given the opportunity.
Emotional Literacy. As indicated in Tables 1 and 2, Mr. N faced significant
challenges in emotional literacy within the framework of transformative pedagogy.
Throughout the observations, he missed opportunities to support students in processing
emotions constructively. A key example occurred in a Primary 5 gymnastics lesson, where
students were paired for activities requiring close physical contact. Instead of validating their
discomfort and facilitating discussion, Mr. N dismissed their concerns, reinforcing top-down
authority rather than fostering a dialogic space for emotional processing and collaborative
problem-solving. Nevin et al. (2008) argued that a person-centered approach to pedagogy
was essential, emphasizing that students should be recognized as competent and complex
individuals capable of reaching their full potential, regardless of ability. By acknowledging
students’ anxieties and engaging in reflective dialogue, Mr. N could have challenged
normative ideologies and encouraged students to navigate discomfort through communication
and mutual understanding.
In a brief post-lesson discussion, Mr. N’s internal conflict was apparent. He struggled
with forcing students into pairings they were uncomfortable with while complying with
school policies that dictated rigid instructional practices. His lack of experience in handling
emotionally charged situations led him to avoid discussions that required critical reflection.
Giroux (2010) argued that critical reflection was fundamental to critical pedagogy, allowing
students to question and negotiate the relationships between theory and practice, critical
analysis and common sense, and learning and social change.
Discussions for Case Study One
Mr. N’s personal experiences as a student and his professional journey provided
insights into his evolving perspectives on education in general and inclusive education in

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particular. His persistence in pursuing a teaching career despite multiple challenges reflected
his internalization of Singapore’s meritocratic and exam-driven educational hegemony.
Drawing on Gramsci’s theory, Dawson (2018) defined hegemony as “the central, effective
and dominant system of meaning and values, which are not merely abstract but are organized
and lived” (p. 154). Mr. N embodied this paradox—despite his own marginalization, he
continued to uphold and reproduce hegemonic narratives of meritocracy in his classroom.
Sharpe and Gopinathan (2002) highlighted this contradiction, explaining that individuals who
had been marginalized by a system often became complicit in sustaining its legitimacy.
Although Mr. N expressed support for inclusion and had experience in SPED schools,
his belief that students with SEN were a burden in mainstream classrooms revealed his
underlying epistemological stance. Ladson-Billings (2000) defined epistemology as a system
of knowing with internal logic and external validity. Mr. N’s internal logic, shaped by
personal experiences, school policies, and structural limitations, suggested that SEN students
created additional challenges for teachers and their neurotypical peers. This belief was
externally reinforced by an education system that legitimized segregation through streaming
and differentiated pathways. Consequently, he perceived inclusion as an external imposition
rather than an intrinsic educational responsibility, reflecting a disconnect between inclusive
policies and practical implementation. Despite being well-intentioned, Mr. N demonstrated a
superficial understanding of inclusion and a lack of critical reflection on his own pedagogical
practices. While his interview responses indicated moments of spontaneous reflection, they
also revealed a lack of meaningful engagement with inclusive education, particularly given
the high number of SEN students in his school. His limited awareness of necessary
accommodations for students with hearing loss, combined with his reluctance to pursue
further training, reflected an ambivalent approach to inclusion. This passivity was evident in
both his interviews and classroom observations. He perceived repeated verbal instructions as

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a sufficient substitute for differentiation, reflecting a resigned attitude rather than an active
effort to support SEN students. Although he claimed that non-examinable subjects provided
more flexibility for inclusion, he failed to utilize this opportunity, leading to de facto
exclusionary practices. His frustrations suggested that he viewed inclusion as necessary only
when it disrupted classroom management, rather than as a fundamental pedagogical
responsibility.
Mr. N’s deterministic view of education positioned meritocracy as immutable, rather
than a socially constructed system that could be reformed. His internal conflict between
transformative pedagogy and institutional compliance was evident in both his interview and
observations. While he displayed care and empathy for students, these moments were largely
constrained to environments free from administrative scrutiny. His skepticism toward
Western-centric inclusion models aligned with Singaporean research indicating that many
teachers viewed inclusion as idealistic in principle but impractical in reality (Yeo et al.,
2016). Mr. N argued that Western models failed to consider Singapore’s rigid discipline,
hierarchy, and standardization. This passive approach aligned with integration rather than full
inclusion, where SEN students were expected to conform to mainstream expectations rather
than the system adapting to accommodate them (Strogilos & Lim, 2019). His reactive
approach to inclusion also reflected his hierarchical view of the teaching profession, wherein
mainstream teachers were positioned as superior to AEDs. The dichotomy between
mainstream and special education, despite policy shifts toward greater integration, remained a
significant barrier to inclusion. His comments on SPED teachers being undervalued
reinforced the systemic biases that deprioritized inclusive education within Singapore’s
meritocratic framework.
Despite these limitations, Mr. N exhibited genuine moments of care, responsiveness,
and positive student–teacher relationships. However, his struggle to balance inclusive

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practices with institutional expectations of discipline and compliance remained a key
constraint. Avramidis and Norwich (2002) argued that a culture of compliance shifted the
focus onto students' behavior rather than examining the lack of accommodations within the
learning environment. In rigid, top-down educational settings, teachers often fell back on
exclusionary practices, such as removing students from the classroom or ignoring them in
favor of neurotypical peers. His approach to behavior management illustrated this tension
between discipline and inclusion. Rather than designing inclusive behavioral interventions,
he relied on traditional disciplinary measures, including group punishments and physical
separation of disruptive students. This reinforced exclusion rather than fostering meaningful
engagement with SEN students. Research indicated that mainstream teachers in high-stakes
education systems often lacked the training and support necessary to manage behavioral
diversity in inclusive classrooms, further perpetuating a deficit-based view of SEN students
as disruptive (Weng et al., 2015). While Mr. N’s teaching approach was often constrained by
institutional norms, his moments of reflection, care, and cultural responsiveness suggested his
potential for transformative teaching when given adequate support and training.
Case Study Two: Ms. A
Ms. A was a highly experienced English Language teacher with 36 years in education,
deeply committed to supporting students with learning needs and mentoring fellow educators.
She had spent her career in Catholic schools, teaching in an all-boys school for 10 years, an
all-girls school for 20 years, and transitioning to her current school in 2018, where she taught
Primary 2 and Primary 5 students. Her journey into inclusive education began when she took
enhanced professional leave to work at a SPED school, serving students with hearing loss and
other learning needs. Reflecting on this experience, she stated, “My awareness of special
needs heightened.” This transformative experience reshaped her understanding of students

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with SEN, particularly as she recalled that in her early career, she did not recognize learning
difficulties in her students.
To expand her expertise, she undertook the Teachers Trained in Special Needs (TSN)
course at the National Institute of Education (NIE), becoming one of the first teachers in her
school to complete the training. Upon transferring to her current school, which served
students with hearing loss, she became a strong advocate for inclusive teaching strategies.
Her commitment led her to pursue further training to become a Senior Teacher for Special
Educational Needs, driven by a deep sense of calling. However, upon joining the school, she
realized that two SENOs and a Senior Teacher for Special Needs were already in place.
Instead of duplicating roles, she pivoted to become a Lead Teacher in Educational Support,
focusing on students with undiagnosed learning difficulties. She explained, “These are the
children I like to work with, but being a lead teacher, I don’t work directly with them. I work
with the teachers to help the children.”
Ms. A was deeply invested in mentoring educators, believing that supporting teachers
was essential for enhancing student learning. She had never aspired to principalship, as her
passion lay in classroom engagement and teacher mentorship. She was an active member of
the Educational Support chapter at the Academy of Singapore Teachers (AST), where she
collaborated with educators nationwide through webinars, networking sessions, and training
programs. She valued this professional community, stating, “I feel very supported in this
chapter. I really enjoy what I'm doing.” However, she found fewer opportunities for
collaboration in the Special Needs chapter at AST, which she perceived as offering limited
professional exchange. Within her school community, Ms. A played a crucial role as a coach
and mentor to new teachers, guiding them through lesson planning, classroom management,
and differentiated instruction. As a member of the Teacher Leaders’ Committee, she helped
novice teachers integrate into the school’s culture, Catholic traditions, and value system. She

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believed in structured mentorship, stating, “We need to help young and beginning teachers
figure out things in the education system.” Her mentoring approach included regular
meetings, classroom observations, and in-class support, ensuring teachers gained confidence
in working with diverse learners. Ms. A’s dedication extended beyond scheduled hours. She
prioritized mentoring over administrative tasks, frequently postponing grading to weekends
to ensure she had time for teacher support during school hours. During the mentoring session,
the mentee candidly shared frustrations about school systems and leadership, reflecting the
trust and rapport Ms. A had built over time. She acknowledged the demands of her role but
remained steadfast, stating, “To me, priority is always given to the teachers, spending time
with them, to help them.”
Ms. A’s commitment to inclusive education was unmistakable. She believed in
empowering students with independence, explaining, “If you see the children as your own,
you want to teach them independence.” Beyond teaching and mentoring, she was an integral
member of the Case Management Team, which assessed students’ progress and determined
whether they should remain in mainstream education or transition to a SPED school. She
strongly believed that behavior management, structure, and compliance were crucial for
student success. Her philosophy of inclusion extended beyond physical disabilities to
encompass students from diverse socioeconomic and family backgrounds. She emphasized,
“In this school inclusion has a very wide definition… it’s not just physical disability. …This
is why we are here, and we are working as a village.” She was widely respected within her
school community and was frequently relied upon by school leadership to mentor and coach
new teachers, ensuring they understood the Catholic traditions, ethos, and value systems of
the school.

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Learning Spaces
English lessons at the school were conducted in 60- or 90-minute blocks. Lower
primary classes (Primary 1 to 3) had two 60-minute lessons per week, while upper primary
classes (Primary 4 to 6) had one 90-minute lesson and one 60-minute lesson per week.
Lessons were typically held in the classroom and were usually scheduled as the first block
after assembly.
Profile of Classrooms Observed
I sought Ms. A’s permission to observe a Primary 2 class and a Primary 5 class. The
Primary 2 class consisted of 34 students, including four students with mild to severe hearing
loss. Among these four students, one had been diagnosed with Attention Deficit
Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) and mild Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). Additionally,
one girl in the class had not been officially diagnosed, but Ms. A strongly suspected she had
dyslexia, explaining that the student “could not seem to remember what was taught” and that
“her brother and sister before her were both diagnosed with dyslexia.”
The Primary 5 class comprised 35 students, including three students with mild hearing
loss. No students in this class had been diagnosed with concomitant learning needs. However,
Ms. A noted that one student struggled to focus on academics because his family prioritized
creating social media content. She observed that he “always tried to act smart in class.”
Findings for Research Question One
This section examines Ms. A’s perceptions using the coding scheme outlined in
Figure 5 and perspectives from the conceptual framework. By analyzing interview excerpts,
the study explored how socio-cultural and historical contexts shaped her educational
viewpoints. The analysis applied hegemonic narratives, dominant societal and institutional
norms, and personal lived experiences to deconstruct her responses and identify the key
factors that influenced her perspectives on education.

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Value Systems
This section examines the codes assigned to the category of value systems, as shown
in Figure 5.
Societal Structures. Ms. A’s views on inclusive education were shaped by
Singapore’s meritocratic emphasis on academic excellence, where societal attitudes
continued to prioritize high academic performance. While she acknowledged the Ministry of
Education’s (MOE) advocacy for inclusion, she noted that the increasing number of students
with special educational needs (SEN) in mainstream schools might have been due to both
policy shifts and practical constraints. She observed, “I think MOE is pushing for inclusion…
that’s why we see more and more [students with special needs] in our mainstream classes.”
She also commented that “the waitlist for SPED schools is very long,” highlighting the
limited availability of government-funded special education (SPED) schools in Singapore.
Through her longitudinal observations, Ms. A reflected on how she initially did not recognize
students with special needs in her classroom but later perceived a significant shift, attributing
it to increased awareness. She believed this awareness had led to greater acceptance among
parents and teachers, encouraging more families to enroll their children with SEN in
mainstream schools, as “Parents are willing to put these children in mainstream schools,
hoping to give them an equal chance with the rest.” Her perspective aligned with Singapore’s
policy-driven approach to inclusion, where national directives encouraged mainstream
schools to accommodate students with disabilities (MOE, 2023). Schuelka and Carrington
(2021) argued that inclusive education policies were often driven by top-down mandates
rather than grassroots initiatives, a reality reflected in Ms. A’s experiences.
Despite the push for inclusion, Ms. A raised concerns about the incorrect placement
of students who “cannot access the mainstream curriculum,” arguing that, in such cases,
attending a mainstream school was a “waste of [the students’] time.” She strongly advocated

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for students with severe learning needs to be placed in SPED schools, stating, “I would rather
this child go to a special needs school where the way he is taught, the way he learns, may be
different.” Additionally, she highlighted a systemic issue in which some parents sought
special needs diagnoses to secure Primary School Leaving Examination (PSLE) exemptions.
She had observed instances where parents “push for that diagnosis” to gain accommodations
such as extra time or exemption from the mother tongue language paper. Her concern
underscored a broader challenge in inclusive education: when policies were implemented in a
top-down manner without adequate structural support, unintended consequences could
emerge. Singapore’s strong emphasis on meritocracy, coupled with policy-driven inclusion,
may have created incentives for parents to pursue medical diagnoses that grant academic
advantages (Baglieri et al., 2011; Erevelles, 2011).
Ms. A’s reflections highlighted the paradox within Singapore’s inclusive education
landscape: while awareness and acceptance had increased, meritocratic constraints persisted,
shaping how inclusion was perceived and practiced in mainstream settings. The tension
between equitable access and academic performance underscored the complexities of
implementing inclusive education in a system where high-stakes testing and limited
specialized resources remained key considerations.
National Policies. Despite policy advocacy, significant gaps in implementation
remained. Ms. A expressed frustration over the insufficient training teachers received to
support students with SEN, stating, “I think what we get is just very basic, yeah. I mean it
will [be] good if you can have a little bit more in-depth training.” This aligned with Yeo et al.
(2016), who found that many Singaporean teachers felt unprepared to implement inclusive
practices effectively. Policies often remained aspirational rather than actionable, leading to a
misalignment between expectations and classroom realities (Schuelka & Carrington, 2021).
Ms. A highlighted the lack of specialized training, noting that even the TSN course provided

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only “very basic” knowledge, adding that it was “just enough for us to do a little bit.” While
she acknowledged the placement of SENOs and AEDs in schools as a step toward inclusion,
she argued that “there is never enough support, as the children’s needs are so diverse.”
Ms. A also underscored the disconnect between policymakers and teachers, stating,
“MOE sometimes needs to hear from experienced teachers and get us to share our stories. …
I think getting feedback from the ground is largely absent.” She argued that “sending
lecturers down to talk to us” was ineffective because “they are not in our classrooms. They
don’t see it. … They don’t see what is happening.” This sentiment was echoed by Goodley et
al. (2019), who asserted that inclusive education policies remained largely theoretical unless
supported by practical teacher training and adequate resource allocation. Ms. A believed that
inclusive education policies should be developed in collaboration with frontline educators
who had firsthand knowledge of the challenges in implementation.
Additionally, Ms. A highlighted the evolution of national policies regarding class
sizes. She recalled that when she first started teaching, the student–teacher ratio was 44:1,
which had since been reduced to 35:1. She acknowledged, “[MOE] has reduced it as much as
they could. And I have even seen smaller classes, with pull-out sessions for children who
need specialized teaching.” This shift aligned with MOE’s broader policy efforts, including
planned school mergers between 2022 and 2025 in response to declining birth rates and
shifting housing demographics (MOE, 2022). Large class sizes and academic pressures
remained persistent concerns frequently cited by educators in studies on inclusive education
(Thaver et al., 2014; Yeo et al., 2016). However, Ms. A recognized that MOE had responded
to educators’ concerns, even if progress had been slow. “It took 10 years for MOE to study
the model and make amendments,” she noted, adding, “I’m glad there is change.” Ultimately,
Ms. A’s reflections highlighted the challenges of translating inclusive education policies into
practice. While national policies promoted inclusion, gaps in training, insufficient resources,

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and slow policy adjustments continued to hinder effective implementation in mainstream
classrooms.
Situated Experiences. Ms. A’s understanding of inclusive education evolved through
direct experience working with students with hearing loss and additional learning needs. She
recalled her early years in teaching when she lacked awareness of special needs in
mainstream schools, stating, “When I was in the boys' school, I didn’t quite notice. Maybe at
that time, my awareness of children with special needs was not there.” Her transition from
unawareness to recognition reflected research findings that teachers’ values toward inclusion
shifted as they gained firsthand experience (Goodley, 2019). Studies further highlighted that
exposure to diverse learning needs fostered greater empathy and advocacy for inclusive
practices (Poon, 2022; Schuelka & Carrington, 2021; Thaver et al., 2014). Her growing
expertise in inclusive education led her to adopt differentiated teaching strategies. She shared
that her school utilized “cooperative learning structures that lend themselves to Differentiated
Instruction (DI) because it reaches out to children with different types of needs.” As a
mentor, she supported new teachers in implementing inclusive strategies, which emphasized
adaptive teaching for diverse learners (Baglieri et al., 2011). However, she acknowledged the
challenges of effectively implementing DI, noting that it “requires a lot of planning” and that
many teachers attempted it only when “they have a lesson observation.” While she advocated
for DI, she also empathized with teachers, stating, “If we didn’t have to worry about anything
else except lesson planning, I think teachers would be able to carry it out. But when you have
other responsibilities, it becomes difficult.”
Ms. A also highlighted a key structural issue—teachers did not receive dedicated nonteaching time for planning differentiated lessons, forcing them to “compromise on the quality
of lesson planning for the class.” The emotional burden of inclusion was a well-documented
challenge in research, both in Singapore and globally (Dignath et al., 2022; van Steen &

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Wilson, 2020). Many teachers perceived inclusion as an additional workload rather than a
direct benefit to students. Erevelles (2000) critiqued that when inclusion was implemented
without systemic support, it placed undue pressure on individual teachers. Ms. A’s evolving
awareness and her role in mentoring educators demonstrated that attitudes toward inclusion
were dynamic and shaped more by firsthand experiences than by policy directives alone.
Belief Systems
This section examines the codes assigned to the category of belief systems, as shown
in Figure 5.
Societal Structures. Ms. A’s beliefs about inclusive education were shaped by
societal expectations and Singapore’s meritocratic emphasis on academic success. She
strongly advocated for appropriate student placement, arguing that students who struggled in
mainstream classrooms should not be left on long waitlists for SPED schools. She stated,
“They [MOE] cannot allow all special needs children to be in the mainstream school. … we
must be able to move them [students] out to the special needs school… instead of keeping
them on the waitlist for one, two years.” This perspective aligned with Zhuang’s (2016)
assertion that the medical model of disability continued to shape educational practices,
reinforcing a deficit-based perspective where students’ difficulties were framed as an
inability to adapt to mainstream schooling. This approach legitimized exclusionary practices,
entrenching social hierarchies and systemic marginalization (Armstrong et al., 2010;
Schuelka & Carrington, 2021).
Ms. A believed that parents of neurotypical children generally accepted having
students with diverse learning needs in their child’s classrooms. She asserted that teachers
rarely received complaints from parents and that SEN students were not marginalized within
her school. She emphasized that teachers’ attitudes significantly shaped how neurotypical
students perceived inclusion. When training new teachers, she avoided labeling students as

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having "special needs" and instead focused on individualized support strategies, stating,
“This child needs you to be a bit firm. This child needs you to understand him a bit more.”
Kumashiro (2000) critiqued this individualized focus, arguing that it ignored systemic
inequities. As Singapore transitioned from integration to a more inclusive model, teachers’
evolving perceptions of normalcy continued to shape inclusive education practices (Erevelles,
2000).
National Policies. Yeo et al. (2016) found that while policies advocate for inclusion,
teachers often feel unprepared to support diverse learning needs. Beckett (2015) argues that
inclusion policies frequently assume teachers already possess the necessary competencies
rather than providing them with structured training. Without sustained professional
development, policy implementation risks remaining symbolic rather than actionable. Ms. A
highlighted these challenges, particularly the gaps in teacher training. She noted, “You can't
leave them on their own with the class. If there are children like this [SEN students], they
probably need to have…another teacher who is trained in special needs to show them how to
handle these children.” This finding reflects Avramidis and Norwich’s (2002) argument that
teachers are more likely to adopt inclusive practices when supported by structured
professional learning. Despite these challenges, Ms. A demonstrated agency in navigating
policy constraints. She actively fostered collaboration among teachers, stating, “I work with
the teachers to help the children. We talk together, see what worked, try out strategies, and
discuss if they worked.” Her approach aligns with Bartolomé’s (2007) view that professional
learning communities foster shared responsibility for inclusion, ultimately strengthening
teacher belief systems and practices.
Despite completing TSN training, Ms. A expressed uncertainty about her expertise,
stating, “With the special needs [students]… I like working with these children, but
sometimes I feel that I don’t have enough expertise in that area to really help them further.”

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Yeo et al. (2016) note that such self-perceived gaps in expertise are common barriers to
teacher confidence in inclusive education. Interestingly, despite her extensive experience and
training, Ms. A did not perceive herself as a teacher for students diagnosed with SEN,
believing that responsibility fell on SENOs and AEDs. Lim et al. (2014) explore how
institutionalized identities shape teachers’ perceptions of their roles. Within the context of
inclusive education, these identity constructs influence how teachers define their
responsibilities, often reinforcing a distinction between mainstream and special education.
Ms. A’s reflections highlight how these deeply embedded narratives continue to shape
teacher beliefs about inclusion and their role in supporting students with SEN.
Situated Experiences. Teachers’ experiences, including direct interactions with
students, professional development, and school-based exposure, played a critical role in
shaping their beliefs about inclusive education. Ms. A’s understanding of inclusion deepened
significantly during her enhanced professional leave placement, where she realized, “It’s not
just the hearing loss; it’s other characteristics to their special needs.” This hands-on
experience challenged her initial assumptions, allowing her to recognize the complexity of
disabilities beyond a singular diagnosis. Her evolving perspective aligned with research
findings that teachers with prolonged exposure to students with disabilities develop greater
adaptability and empathy in their teaching approaches (van Steen & Wilson, 2020; Dignath et
al., 2022).
Drawing from her expertise, Ms. A actively integrated pedagogical adaptations to
support struggling students. She explained, “Some of the things, like chunking information
for them, getting them to track what they’re reading with a ruler, or better spacing between
lines, will help them.” Her proactive approach aligned with critical disability studies
perspectives, which advocate for strengths-based teaching rather than deficit models
(Goodley, 2019). However, Ms. A’s beliefs about meritocracy also shaped her instructional

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decisions. She explained, “… The slow learners, I don’t put them all together. I mix them
with the high-ability children…. The high-ability children stretch themselves by having to
explain what they have learned to these children.” This approach reflected an underlying
meritocratic logic, reinforcing hierarchies of ability within the classroom. Kumashiro (2000)
argues that educators’ identities, experiences, and privileges inevitably shape their teaching
practices. To foster truly inclusive education, teachers must critically examine their own
values, assumptions, and ideologies regarding student differences.
Roles and Identities. Ms. A saw her primary role as a lead teacher who mentored and
supported new teachers within the school community. She valued the trust placed in her by
administrators and actively guided novice teachers in implementing inclusive practices.
Recognizing that new teachers often struggled with inclusion, she provided structured
support, stating, “So what I do is I will open up my classroom for them to come in and see
how I manage different types of children.” This approach aligned with Bartolomé (2007),
who argues that teachers are more likely to adopt inclusive mindsets when they learn from
colleagues who model effective practices. Similarly, Schuelka and Carrington (2021)
highlight that teacher-led professional learning communities foster shared responsibility for
inclusive education. Lupold (2020) further emphasizes that direct classroom exposure to
inclusive teaching strategies is more effective for new teachers than theoretical training alone.
However, mentor-apprentice relationships can lead to the internalization of both best
practices and potential biases (Bartolomé, 2007). Ms. A’s approach placed teachers at the
center of inclusion, rather than positioning students as active co-creators of their learning
experiences. Freire (2014) critiques teacher-centric models, arguing that they limit student
agency and reinforce top-down approaches to inclusion.
Beyond mentoring, Ms. A also played a key role in the Case Management Team,
which decided on student placement. She explained, “We talk about how, you know, if this

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child is really fit to continue in the mainstream school, or do we see that there is a need for
the child to move on?” While these collaborative decisions aimed for objectivity, Lupold
(2020) argues that teachers’ biases inevitably shape placement recommendations. Erevelles
(2011) critiques such processes as sorting mechanisms that reinforce exclusionary structures
under the guise of professional expertise. When such perspectives became ingrained within
the school culture, they risked sustaining exclusionary practices rather than fostering greater
inclusion in general education.
Attitudes
This section examines the codes assigned to the category of attitudes, as shown in
Figure 5.
Situated Experiences. Ms. A reflected on how, in her early years of teaching, she
lacked awareness of students with special needs. She recalled, “Maybe at that time my
awareness of the children with special needs was not there. I thought boys are being boys,
just active and very boisterous. These are just part and parcel of the behavior of a typical
boy.” Avramidis and Norwich (2002) explain that teachers with limited prior engagement
with students with disabilities often hold deficit-based attitudes toward special needs learners.
However, as Ms. A gained experience, her perspective evolved: “And I was able to read the
type of accommodation that we need to give them. And upon reading that, I realized I can
also do something like this in my own class.” This shift aligns with Forlin et al. (2009), who
argue that hands-on learning experiences significantly enhance teachers' confidence and
attitudes toward inclusion.
Ms. A highlighted the importance of collaboration, particularly the role of AEDs: “I
am very appreciative that I have an AED with me because she doesn’t just help the children
with hearing loss; she sometimes helps my other kids too.” Lim et al. (2014) note that while
AEDs were introduced to support SEN students, their responsibilities often extend beyond

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their original role due to school-specific needs. Despite her commitment to inclusive
education, Ms. A acknowledged teachers' frustration in managing behavioral challenges. She
suggested pairing new teachers with experienced SEN educators: “If there are children like
this [SEN], they [teachers] probably need to have someone with them first.” While her
approach suggested a growing openness to inclusion, it also implied that certain students
inherently disrupted learning, requiring behavioral management rather than systemic
educational reform (Erevelles, 2000). By framing inclusion as an issue of classroom
management rather than pedagogy or empowerment, Ms. A’s perspective aligned with
Davis’s (1995) critique that education often reinforces normalcy by pathologizing deviations
from the norm. This reflected a broader challenge in inclusive education, where students with
disabilities are often viewed as disruptions to be controlled rather than learners to be
empowered.
Roles and Identities. Ms. A’s evolving roles as a classroom teacher, mentor, and
leader in special needs education shaped her understanding of inclusive education. Her
transition from a general classroom teacher to a Senior Teacher for SEN and later a Lead
Teacher for Educational Support reflected a shift from passive exposure to active advocacy.
She recalled, “When TSN first came about, I was picked to go. Maybe because I was heading
the student development unit. … But then the senior teacher for SEN was what I wanted to
do.” Bartolomé (2007) argues that teachers who develop political and ideological clarity
regarding inclusion often become institutional change agents. Ms. A’s leadership role
broadened her perspectives, prompting her to adopt differentiated approaches to meet
students’ diverse learning needs. However, her experiences as a mentor reinforced her belief
in structured discipline as essential for inclusion. As part of the leadership committee
overseeing new teacher induction, she explained, “I will talk about how to handle this kind of
difficult children, if you have any in your class. So, should they need to see how it's done,

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they're always welcome to my class.” This categorization of students as "difficult" suggested
a hierarchical teacher-student dynamic, positioning students with disabilities as requiring
control rather than as active participants in learning. The emphasis on rigid behavioral
expectations aligns with Erevelles’ (2000) argument that schools regulate students’ bodies
and movements to conform to ableist norms.
Beyond her school, Ms. A’s national engagement further shaped her perspectives on
inclusion. As an active member of the Education Support Chapter of the Academy of
Singapore Teachers, she collaborated on webinars, networking sessions, and professional
development programs. She emphasized, “We are very systematic in the way we organize
webinars, sharing, networking sessions, and all that. So, every term, there's something going
on.” This engagement underscores her belief in inclusion as a collective and evolving
process. Her perspective aligns with Freire’s (2014) critical pedagogy, which advocates for
shared learning, reflection, and collective responsibility in fostering equitable education.
School Practices. Ms. A’s reflections illustrated how her experiences within the
school system shaped both her advocacy for inclusion and her pragmatic concerns about its
implementation. She acknowledged that school leadership played a crucial role in shaping
inclusive practices, particularly in determining the level of support allocated to students with
special needs. She stated, “I sit in the case management team. So, we have meetings like once
every month.” This structured approach aligns with Avramidis and Norwich’s (2002)
argument that school-based support structures positively influence teachers’ attitudes toward
inclusion. However, the primary function of the Case Management Team was to determine
students' academic trajectories. Ms. A explained, “The team will work together. We talk
about how, if this child is really fit to continue in the mainstream school, or do we see that
there is a need for the child to move on?” This perspective aligns with Thaver and Lim
(2014), who found that while Singaporean teachers support inclusive education, they often

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recommend alternative placements when mainstream accommodations are insufficient.
Institutionalized approaches to inclusion raise concerns about systemic biases, as such
placement decisions may reinforce exclusion rather than support meaningful inclusion
(Erevelles, 2011).
As a mentor, Ms. A played a key role in reinforcing institutional norms. Her
statement, “Teachers will watch [me] to see how I establish rules,” suggested that her
emphasis on discipline was institutionalized through mentorship. This implied that her
attitudes toward control and compliance were likely transmitted to new educators. Center and
Ward (1987) argue that teachers who frame inclusion as a behavioral issue rather than an
instructional challenge are more likely to adopt exclusionary practices. CDS scholars further
assert that teachers often unconsciously reinforce ableist narratives by positioning themselves
as authoritative figures who must ‘manage’ student behavior rather than restructure learning
environments to accommodate diverse needs (Goodley et al., 2019).
Ms. A’s perspective on inclusion extended beyond students with disabilities to those
from disadvantaged socio-economic and family backgrounds. She explained, “… especially
in the school, I see that inclusion has a very wide definition, with people coming from
various backgrounds—socio-economic and family backgrounds. It’s not just about physical
disability. It is those that are disadvantaged in many ways.” This broader definition aligns
with the MOE’s philosophy in Singapore, which encourages holistic support for all learners,
including those with social-emotional and behavioral needs (Yeo et al., 2016). However,
while this expansive view acknowledged multiple forms of disadvantage, it raised concerns
about the dilution of disability-specific support. By generalizing inclusion to all
‘disadvantaged’ students, targeted accommodations for students with disabilities may not
receive the necessary attention (Thaver & Lim, 2014). Ms. A’s reflections highlighted the

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tension between policy aspirations and school-based decision-making, underscoring how
meritocratic structures continued to shape the practice of inclusion in Singapore.
Support Systems. The school had a structured support system to onboard new
teachers and guide them in working with diverse learners. A multi-disciplinary team—
including SENOs, AEDs, counselors, and a student management team—aided in promoting
inclusion within the classroom. Additionally, experienced mentors like Ms. A, alongside
HODs and level heads, offered structured guidance in classroom management and inclusive
practices. Ms. A explained, “In my first session with the teachers, I would tell them this is
why we’re here, and we’re working as a village.” The leadership team reinforced a clear
emphasis on values education and inclusion, shaping teachers’ beliefs about their role in
supporting students with special needs. Research in Singapore highlights that school culture
plays a significant role in shaping teachers’ attitudes toward inclusive practices (Poon, 2013;
Walker & Musti-Rao, 2016; Weng et al., 2015). However, the framing of inclusion as a nonnegotiable expectation may reinforce a binary perspective—teachers must either align with
the school’s inclusion model or leave. Ms. A shared, “The boss [principal] would interview
them… then really, if this is not their cup of tea, she would tell them maybe, perhaps another
school is a better school for you.” While ensuring alignment with the school’s vision, this
approach may discourage critical engagement in refining inclusive practices (Schuelka &
Carrington, 2021).
Experiences With Inclusion
This section examines the codes assigned to the category of experiences with
inclusion, as shown in Figure 5.
Roles and identities. Ms. A’s reflections on inclusion highlighted the tensions
between its educational ideals and the pragmatic realities of classroom implementation in
Singapore. She emphasized the role of structure and discipline in successful inclusion,

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referencing a mentor who was “very structured in the way she wants a class to behave,” with
clear rules and routines that teachers observed. Research suggests that educators who frame
inclusion through a behavioral lens often implement rigid control mechanisms rather than
flexible, student-centered teaching strategies (Avramidis & Norwich, 2002). This emphasis
on strict discipline risked marginalizing students with disabilities, particularly those with
neurodivergent behaviors, by treating their challenges as disruptions rather than differences
requiring accommodation.
Ms. A also took a pragmatic stance on student placement, advocating for SPED
schools for those who struggled in mainstream education. She explained, “I would rather this
child go to a special needs school where the way he’s taught, the way he learns, may be
different. That suits him better.” This perspective reflected the broader dual-track education
system in Singapore, where students with higher needs were often redirected to SPED
schools. While the Enabling Masterplans promote inclusion, they also sustain a parallel
system for students with higher support needs. Zhuang (2016) argues that the medical model
reinforces a deficit narrative by emphasizing inability and placing the burden of adaptation on
the individual rather than the system. This classification extended the rationale of failure to
adapt to mainstream schools, contributing to social marginalization and the denial of
education as a fundamental right. Ms. A’s experiences revealed that Singapore’s inclusion
model remained constrained by a compliance-driven framework, where students must
conform to mainstream education rather than the system adapting to meet diverse learning
needs (Armstrong et al., 2010; Schuelka & Carrington, 2021).
School Practices. The school strongly emphasized Catholic values, discipline, and
compliance. Ms. A, a passionate advocate for inclusion, believed that firmness and structure
were essential for managing diverse learners effectively. She emphasized the importance of
teachers adopting an authoritative stance in their interactions with students. Describing her

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approach with a student diagnosed with high-functioning autism, she explained that “he does
not listen” and “just does whatever he wants to do… and dirties the place.” In response, she
adopted a strict and firm approach, reprimanding him sternly and, at times, throwing his
belongings into the bin when he did not follow instructions. She acknowledged, “I think
teachers sometimes need to see how this can be done. They may think I am being very cruel,
but I am just being very firm because I know this child.” This approach reflected traditional
discipline-based education models, which prioritized compliance and behavioral regulation
over student autonomy. The expectation that teachers align with school-wide disciplinary
practices left little room for pedagogical innovation, reinforcing what Schuelka and
Carrington (2021) describe as institutional rigidity—where inclusion is dictated by top-down
directives rather than teacher-driven adaptation.
Ms. A also highlighted that she engaged with parents only when necessary, stating, “I
don’t work that closely with parents, except for parents of children in my class. I think the
AED teachers work very closely with parents.” This suggested that the school lacked a
structured, school-wide framework for parental involvement in special needs education.
Instead, engagement followed a fragmented model, where different personnel handled
specific aspects of parent interaction. Yeo et al. (2016) found that in Singapore, teachers
often perceived parental collaboration for students with SEN as the responsibility of AEDs,
as mainstream teachers believed it fell outside their job scope. The school followed a policy
of assigning designated personnel to manage parent-teacher correspondence, effectively
limiting interactions between parents and general education teachers. This hierarchical
approach to parental engagement reinforced a model where only non-mainstream teachers
regularly communicated with parents. However, research suggests that inclusive schools
should foster continuous, open communication between teachers and parents rather than

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reserving engagement for crisis situations (Avramidis & Norwich, 2002; Strogilos & Lim,
2019).
Support Systems. Ms. A’s experiences highlighted both the strengths and limitations
of support systems within Singapore’s educational landscape, emphasizing how
collaboration, training gaps, and administrative oversight shaped her perception of inclusive
education. She appreciated the support provided by AEDs, stating that she had developed
strong working relationships with them. However, she also identified a key limitation: “I do
not get any protected time to work with the AED teachers.” This lack of structured
collaboration time reflected broader systemic issues in inclusive education, where rigid
curriculum schedules and time constraints hindered meaningful engagement between
mainstream teachers and AEDs (Yeo et al., 2016). Research suggests that while support
systems provide crucial assistance, their effectiveness is often compromised by
administrative constraints and high caseloads for SEN officers (Avramidis & Norwich,
2002).
Additionally, Ms. A acknowledged the presence of MOE-mandated mentorship
programs but noted a structural gap, explaining, “The mentor-mentee meetings are not
structured in our timetable. We meet as and when.” Yeo et al. (2016) found that in Singapore,
ad-hoc mentoring results in inconsistent teacher preparedness, particularly in managing
students with SEN. Without structured mentorship, new teachers struggle to develop
confidence in inclusive practices, leading to fragmented implementation. A more systematic
approach—with scheduled mentor-mentee sessions and formalized training—would ensure
greater continuity and reflective practice in inclusive education.
Findings for Research Question Two
As discussed in Case Study One, this section examines how teachers' perceptions
were reflected in their classroom practices using the coding scheme outlined in Figure 6.

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Classroom observations were analyzed and linked to coded categories to understand how
teachers adapted their instructional methods to accommodate students with diverse learning
needs. The framework of transformative and normative pedagogical practices was
particularly useful in analyzing these instructional approaches.
For Ms. A, I observed four lessons—two in Primary 2 and two in Primary 5.
Additionally, I observed a mentoring session she conducted for a male educator in his second
year of teaching. Throughout this section, interview data are integrated to connect Ms. A’s
perceptions with her teaching practices. In my analysis, data were categorized using coded
interactions, instructional practices, and pedagogical provisions, with frequencies tallied to
compare trends across participants. This method allowed for logical inferences and informed
recommendations. Patterns emerged based on lesson settings and student age, revealing a
dynamic interplay between normative and transformative pedagogy. While rigid, teachercentered instruction and compliance-based discipline dominated, there were also moments of
student engagement and support that suggested emerging transformative practices. Tables 3
and 4 illustrate these pedagogical shifts.
Table 3
Instances of Ms. A’s Normative Pedagogical Practices Across Five Hours of Observation
Observations Knowledge
deposit
Monologic
instruction
Compliance
and
discipline
Order and
regulation
Teachercentered
curriculum
Observation One
(Primary 2 )
14 13 12 8 22
Observation Two
(Primary 2
22 19 14 8 27
Observation Three
(Primary 5)
15 19 12 8 28
Observation Four
(Primary 5)
19 15 10 7 30

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Table 4
Instances of Ms. A’s Transformative Pedagogical Practices Across Five Hours of
Observation
Observations Caring
community
Critical
reflection
Reciprocal
relationships
Strengthbased
instruction
Emotional
literacy
Observation One
(Primary 2) 6 2 6 7 3
Observation Two
(Primary 2 4 2 7 2 3
Observation Three
(Primary 5) 7 3 9 4 4
Observation Four
(Primary 5) 8 2 12 11 3
During the observations, it was evident that Ms. A prioritized discipline and
compliance in the classroom. As an English teacher, her lessons were structured around MOE
curriculum guidelines and conducted exclusively in the classroom. She effectively integrated
technology to support learning, utilizing lapel microphones for clear audio projection,
projectors for slideshows, document readers for displaying worksheets, and transmitters
connected to assistive devices for students with hearing loss.
Normative Pedagogical Practices
This section examines the codes assigned to the category of normative pedagogical
practices, as shown in Figure 6.
Compliance and Discipline; Order and Regulation. Ms. A’s pedagogical practices
reflected a strong focus on discipline and compliance, with an emphasis on maintaining order
and reinforcing behavioral norms. As shown in Table 1, strict rule enforcement was a
recurring theme. Before my observations, Ms. A explained that her “teaching style” for
Primary 5 would be different from Primary 2, stating, “I will be firmer with the older
children” because they had more “behavioral issues.” However, my observations revealed

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that Primary 5 students had already internalized behavioral expectations and required fewer
reminders than their younger counterparts. Notably, in both Primary 5 lessons, Ms. A rarely
smiled or engaged in lighthearted interactions. Her body language, conversational style, and
pedagogical approach were authoritative and uncompromising.
Throughout the lessons, Ms. A continuously scanned the classroom to ensure students
maintained a “listening posture.” She frequently enforced bodily control and corrective
discipline, hallmarks of ableist pedagogical norms. Ableist assumptions prioritize
standardized physical and behavioral expectations, often disadvantaging neurodivergent and
disabled students (Erevelles, 2011). Ms. A consistently corrected students' postures and
behaviors, instructing them to “sit up straight, legs together,” and to “fold your arms, sit up
tall, eyes in front” before beginning an activity. This rigid approach equated stillness with
attentiveness, disregarding the diverse ways students engage with learning (Shakespeare,
2013). Beyond posture, gendered bodily regulation was evident. Girls were explicitly told to
“keep their skirts over their knees,” reinforcing traditional norms of femininity, modesty, and
self-regulation. These disciplinary structures aligned with historical expectations linking
bodily control to moral correctness (Foucault, 1977). Such gendered discipline, combined
with broader behavioral expectations, contributed to a classroom culture that prioritized order
over individual learning needs. Research on Singaporean classrooms indicates that rigid
behavioral norms disproportionately disadvantage neurodivergent students, particularly those
with ADHD and autism, who may struggle with such strict expectations (Poon et al., 2016).
Ms. A employed surveillance and public correction as disciplinary tools. She
maintained constant visual monitoring, calling out students for minor infractions such as
fidgeting or failing to maintain eye contact. In one instance, she stared intensely at a student
and ordered, “When I walk back, I want to see a complete sentence.” This aligns with
Foucault’s (1977) notion of social control through constant surveillance, conditioning

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students to self-regulate under the assumption of being watched. Similarly, verbal discipline
reinforced compliance. In two lessons, once with Primary 2 and once with Primary 3, Ms. A
required a student to repeat a mispronounced word multiple times until they articulated it
correctly. She instructed students to emphasize the “t” sound at the end of words, assuming
that fluency and accuracy were markers of competence. This method disregarded how
students with speech delays, processing difficulties, or linguistic differences engage with
language (Douglas & Nganga, 2015). Additionally, emotional and behavioral regulation was
enforced through punitive discipline. Ms. A scolded a student in a loud voice for playing with
his water bottle in a degrading manner, saying, “put your water bottle down, it is not your
milk bottle,” linking fidgeting to inattentiveness. This reflected ableist assumptions that
compliance with normative behaviors equated to intelligence and respect (Goodley et al.,
2019). Such methods can be exclusionary for students with disabilities, reinforcing deficitbased views rather than fostering an inclusive learning environment (Erevelles, 2011).
Classroom order was further maintained through strict control over space, time, and
procedural tasks. Students were required to sit on the floor or at their desks at Ms. A’s
command, reinforcing hierarchical control over the learning environment. Even cooperative
learning activities were structured to ensure teacher-directed interactions rather than studentdriven collaboration. Ms. A pre-assigned leadership roles, restricting opportunities for
spontaneous interaction and creative problem-solving. This rigid structuring reflected
institutional control over student behavior, leaving little room for differentiated learning
(Giroux, 2010). Research on Singapore’s education system highlights that classroom
structuring often prioritizes uniformity over flexibility, creating barriers for students with
disabilities who require adaptable engagement strategies (Goh & Matthews, 2011; Poon,
2022; Thaver et al., 2014). Procedural compliance was further reinforced through
standardized participation cues and hierarchical classroom roles. For example, students in

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cooperative learning groups were required to cheer “Yay!” upon task completion,
emphasizing collective conformity rather than individualized learning experiences. While
seemingly harmless, these compulsory group behaviors erased individual preferences,
privileging extroverted and neurotypical modes of engagement (Shakespeare, 2013).
Similarly, the practice of publicly selecting students for participation reinforced teacher
authority over the learning process, limiting opportunities for student-driven inquiry and
exploration (Liasidou, 2012).
Ms. A’s approach to classroom management reflected broader institutional
expectations that prioritized discipline and compliance over student autonomy. While this
structure ensured order and efficiency, it also reinforced hierarchical authority and restricted
opportunities for differentiated, student-centered learning. These observations suggested that
Ms. A’s pedagogical approach aligned with traditional, control-based teaching methods that
emphasized rule enforcement, surveillance, and standardization at the expense of flexibility
and inclusivity. Her practices illustrated the tensions within Singapore’s inclusive education
framework, where behavioral conformity was often prioritized over adaptive, strengths-based
instruction. While her structured approach provided stability, it also raised concerns about the
extent to which inclusive education could be meaningfully implemented within rigid,
compliance-driven classroom environments.
Knowledge Deposit; Monologic Instruction; Teacher-Centered Curriculum.
Freire (2014) critiques traditional education through the banking model, where students
passively receive knowledge rather than actively engaging in learning. This one-way
transmission of knowledge was evident in Ms. A’s classroom, where lessons were delivered
with minimal opportunities for critical engagement. For example, in a Primary 2 reading
session, Ms. A instructed students to repeat the word "rhubarb" without providing context or
explanation. None of the students asked about its meaning, and Ms. A did not pause to clarify

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or invite discussion. This passive learning model prioritized memorization over conceptual
understanding, which is particularly problematic for students with learning needs who benefit
from multimodal instruction (Shakespeare, 2013). A similar pattern was observed in Ms. A’s
teaching of synonyms for “angry.” Instead of fostering discussion, she linked vocabulary to
behavioral expectations, stating, “If you don’t sit properly, then I will be furious.” This
approach reinforced learning through authority rather than inquiry, discouraging students
from questioning or connecting knowledge to their experiences. Research on Singaporean
classrooms highlights that such rote learning structures limit student engagement and
discourage independent thought (Goh & Matthews, 2011; Strogilos & Lim, 2019).
Both Primary 2 and Primary 5 lessons moved at a brisk pace, leaving little time for
reflection or student input. In the Primary 5 class, Ms. A covered four topics—past perfect
progressive tense, present perfect progressive tense, reported speech, and oral exam
practice—within a single 60-minute lesson. She briefly asked students, “Raise your hand if
you don’t understand and want me to go through it again,” but when no one responded, she
moved on without further clarification. This instructional model favored efficiency over
differentiated learning, marginalizing students who required more processing time (Giroux,
2010). Similarly, in the Primary 2 class, a lesson on opposites demonstrated rigid control over
discourse. Students provided unexpected but conceptually valid responses, such as stating
that “gorillas were bipedal like humans” when discussing role reversal. However, Ms. A
dismissed these responses in favor of predetermined answers, reinforcing a belief that
learning is about producing “correct” responses rather than fostering curiosity. Additionally,
when a student incorrectly paired “big” and “huge” as antonyms, Ms. A responded with,
“Think before you answer,” discouraging risk-taking in learning. Public correction
suppressed student confidence and reinforced a deficit-based view of knowledge acquisition
(hooks, 1994).

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Ms. A’s teacher-centered approach reflected a broader pattern in Singapore’s
education system, where curriculum standardization limited flexibility in instructional
delivery (Deng & Gopinathan, 2016; Teo, 2019). In both classes, Ms. A controlled content,
pacing, and engagement, leaving little room for student agency. Table 1 illustrates the high
frequency of teacher-directed learning, particularly in the Primary 5 class, where exam
preparation influenced lesson delivery. In one grammar exercise, students were given a fixed
sentence structure and instructed to follow it exactly. Any deviation was corrected, and
students were required to rewrite sentences to fit the prescribed format. The strict reliance on
worksheets and pre-planned content reinforced mechanized learning, where students had to
conform to standardized methods rather than developing independent thought. Research in
Singapore suggests that content-driven instruction often overrides inclusive pedagogy,
limiting opportunities for student-centered learning (Levan & Tan, 1999; Poon, 2022). A
restricted, content-driven approach conditioned students to accept authority without
questioning knowledge structures (Douglas & Nganga, 2015). Campbell (2008) critiques this
as inherently ableist, as it assumes all students should engage with knowledge in a uniform
manner, disregarding the needs of those who learn through experimentation or inquiry.
Overall, Ms. A’s pedagogical approach reflected broader systemic patterns within
Singapore’s education system, where discipline, structure, and academic achievement took
precedence over individualized learning. While her structured approach provided stability, it
also highlighted the limitations of compliance-driven classrooms. Research indicates that
such models disproportionately affect students with disabilities, particularly those with
neurodevelopmental conditions, by positioning them as “problems” to be managed rather
than learners with unique strengths and needs (Erevelles, 2011; Goodley et al., 2019).
Without a shift toward more flexible, differentiated pedagogy, the potential for genuine
inclusivity remained constrained.

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Transformative Pedagogical Practices
This section examines the codes assigned to the category of transformative
pedagogical practices, as shown in Figure 6.
Caring Community; Reciprocal Relationships; Emotional Literacy. A key aspect
of transformative pedagogy is fostering a caring classroom environment where students feel
valued and connected (Noddings, 2013). Ms. A demonstrated care through attentiveness to
students’ experiences and by creating moments of communal recognition. In one Primary 2
lesson, she paused to celebrate a student’s birthday, leading the class in singing “Happy
Birthday.” While the student appeared uncomfortable with the attention, this practice
reflected Ms. A’s intent to foster a sense of belonging, aligning with the ethic of care, which
emphasizes acknowledging students as whole individuals beyond their academic performance
(Noddings, 2013). However, care in education also requires attentiveness to students’
emotional cues. While well-intentioned, Ms. A’s approach did not always account for
individual student comfort levels, demonstrating the complexities of balancing communal
traditions with personalized care.
Reciprocity in education involves a shift from hierarchical knowledge transfer to
shared learning experiences (Douglas & Nganga, 2015). While Ms. A’s teaching was largely
teacher-centered, she occasionally engaged in moments of reciprocity. In one Primary 2
lesson, she invited students to share personal experiences about their favorite pies after
encountering “rhubarb pie” in a book. By participating in the discussion, listening attentively,
and sharing her own experiences, she momentarily disrupted the traditional teacher-student
hierarchy, reinforcing hooks’ (1994) argument that education should foster both intellectual
and personal connection. However, valuing students’ voices requires recognizing their
knowledge as legitimate (Douglas & Nganga, 2015). While Ms. A engaged students in

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dialogue, she inconsistently expanded their agency, often redirecting discussions toward
predetermined outcomes rather than fostering open-ended exploration.
Emotional literacy, the ability to identify, express, and regulate emotions, is crucial
for social-emotional learning (hooks, 1994; Douglas & Nganga, 2015). Ms. A displayed both
nurturing and directive approaches in addressing students’ emotions. During a discussion on
bullying in the Primary 2 class, a student shared an experience of being bullied. Ms. A paused
the lesson to provide practical strategies and emphasized the importance of seeking teacher
support. This aligns with Noddings’ (2013) assertion that teachers must attend to students’
emotional well-being alongside academic success. However, rather than facilitating studentled reflection, she defaulted to a directive approach, instructing them to “tell the teachers
immediately” instead of “sharing stories with parents.” While this guidance reinforced school
protocols, it limited students’ opportunities to develop self-advocacy and emotional
processing skills. At times, Ms. A’s approach to emotional regulation was punitive rather
than nurturing. In Primary 2, a student boasted about scolding an older peer after being
bumped into. Ms. A, with visible frustration, reprimanded the student, stating, “You have no
right to scold anybody.” While intended to enforce social norms, her reaction mirrored the
punitive behavior she sought to correct. Douglas and Nganga (2015) argue that radical love in
education requires modeling emotional regulation rather than imposing control. Instead of
guiding the student toward constructive emotional expression, Ms. A’s response escalated the
situation, shutting down discussion and self-reflection. This moment exemplified a missed
opportunity to cultivate emotional intelligence and conflict resolution skills.
While Ms. A demonstrated moments of care, reciprocity, and emotional engagement,
her practices were often directive and compliance-driven. A more transformative approach
would involve fostering student agency, modeling emotional regulation, and creating spaces
for open dialogue rather than reinforcing hierarchical control.

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Critical Reflection; Strength-Based Instruction. Transformative pedagogy
emphasizes critical reflection and strength-based instruction to foster student agency,
resilience, and self-awareness (Freire, 2014). In Ms. A’s classroom, there were moments of
reflective dialogue and recognition of students’ capabilities, aligning with these principles.
However, opportunities for deeper engagement and student-driven learning were sometimes
limited. One instance of critical reflection occurred during a Primary 2 lesson on synonyms
when Ms. A introduced the word “fabulous” and encouraged students to generate their own
synonyms before providing a definition. By prompting collaborative knowledge construction,
Ms. A moved beyond rote memorization, aligning with Freire’s (2014) call for dialogic
learning. However, the lesson remained teacher-controlled, with limited space for student-led
inquiry. Similarly, when students offered creative responses for antonyms, Ms. A dismissed
these ideas in favor of conventional answers like “big/small” and “tall/short.” Douglas and
Nganga (2015) argue that radical love in teaching requires valuing students’ voices, even
when their responses deviate from expected norms. By limiting the discussion to
predetermined answers, Ms. A restricted opportunities for deep reflection and creative
inquiry.
Critical reflection allows students to analyze multiple perspectives and connect
learning to real-world issues. During a Primary 5 partner activity involving “W questions”
(who, what, where, when, why), students had minimal time to engage before switching roles.
The rapid pace limited their ability to think critically, reducing the exercise to a surface-level
task rather than inquiry-based reflection (hooks, 1994). While Ms. A occasionally facilitated
reflective thinking, these moments were often constrained by rigid lesson structures. A more
student-driven approach—allowing open-ended discussions, longer engagement time, and
student-generated questions—would have fostered deeper critical thinking and meaningmaking.

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Strength-based instruction prioritizes student capabilities over deficits, fostering
motivation, resilience, and self-efficacy (Douglas & Nganga, 2015). While Ms. A’s teaching
was largely structured and assessment-driven, she demonstrated moments of affirming
student strengths. In the Primary 2 class, she praised a student with hearing loss who
struggled with retention, acknowledging her expanding vocabulary rather than focusing on
past difficulties. This aligns with Noddings’ (2013) ethic of care, which encourages
celebrating progress rather than just performance. Recognizing effort over perfection
reinforces a growth mindset, a core tenet of transformative pedagogy (hooks, 1994). Ms. A
also demonstrated care through one-on-one support. During a Primary 2 writing task, she sat
at eye level with a student, listened attentively, and affirmed the student’s idea before guiding
next steps. This physical positioning embodied care in teaching (Noddings, 2013),
reinforcing a partnership rather than a hierarchical relationship. Douglas and Nganga (2015)
argue that radical love in pedagogy requires teachers to listen deeply, acknowledging student
contributions before offering direction. While Ms. A demonstrated elements of
transformative teaching, expanding student agency through open-ended inquiry and
collaborative decision-making would have further deepened engagement and inclusivity.
Analysis of Mentoring Session
Ms. A’s mentoring approach was highly structured and directive, emphasizing
discipline, professionalism, and practical classroom management. Her mentorship
style was exemplified in her session with Mr. P, a Primary 3 teacher transitioning
from accounting. Ms. A initiated the meeting in response to negative feedback from
administrators and colleagues regarding Mr. P’s classroom management and
professionalism. She structured the session using the sandwich approach, beginning
with a discussion on what was working well before addressing areas for improvement.
Throughout the 90-minute session, she underscored the importance of setting clear

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rules, maintaining authority, and adhering to school expectations. While her guidance
provided novice teachers with essential management skills, it also raised concerns
about limiting teacher autonomy and prioritizing rigid control over student-centered learning
(Freire, 2014).
A central theme of the mentorship session was the emphasis on explicit rule-setting
and behavioral expectations. Ms. A critiqued Mr. P’s flexible approach, cautioning against
giving students “free rein of freedom.” She stressed the necessity of structured guidelines,
arguing that young students, particularly boys, required clear behavioral expectations to
prevent boundary-testing. She advised Mr. P to replace broad behavioral guidelines with
explicit directives, ensuring students understood what they “must do” rather than what they
“cannot do.” Her approach aligned with Singapore’s structured education system, which
prioritizes teacher authority and discipline to ensure order and compliance in classrooms
(Tan, 2018). However, it also reflected a normative pedagogical framework that emphasized
behavior management over student agency, reinforcing a top-down approach that limited
opportunities for autonomy (Schuelka & Carrington, 2021). Ms. A guided Mr. P on
implementing consequences for breaking rules, emphasizing consistency in enforcement. She
strongly discouraged the use of the term “freedom” in the classroom, warning that students
might misinterpret and misuse it. To illustrate her point, she challenged Mr. P to consider
how he would respond if students exercised their “freedom” by walking out of class. She
asserted, “Do not blur the lines between teacher and student,” reinforcing the hierarchical
distinction between educator and learner. By the end of the discussion, she assigned Mr. P the
task of developing five clear classroom rules to be visibly displayed. She further reinforced
her expectations by sharing her own structured set of rules used in Primary 1: Be attentive;
Be punctual; Be polite; Be kind; Be respectful. While this approach ensured classroom order,

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it also risked fostering a compliance-based environment that prioritized discipline
over collaborative learning (Freire, 2014).
The session also addressed professionalism, with Ms. A confronting concerns
raised by school administrators regarding Mr. P’s conduct. At this point, she
requested that I stop recording due to the sensitive nature of the discussion but
allowed me to continue observing. Although the details remained confidential, it was
evident that Mr. P felt comfortable sharing his frustrations about the principal’s
leadership and his challenges adapting to the profession. Ms. A, while maintaining a
firm stance, created a psychologically safe space that encouraged open dialogue. This
reflected Noddings’ (2013) ethic of care, where trust and rapport in mentoring
relationships facilitate meaningful professional growth. However, her directive
approach, while reinforcing professional expectations, may also have contributed to a
hierarchical mentoring model where mentees felt obligated to conform rather than
develop independent problem-solving skills (Ng, 2019).
A key moment in the session occurred during a discussion on worksheets. Mr.
P expressed reservations about assigning worksheets without ensuring
comprehension, arguing that students should engage meaningfully with the material
rather than completing worksheets for compliance. Ms. A became noticeably agitated,
firmly asserting that “worksheets are non-negotiable.” She reminded Mr. P that, as an
MOE educator, he was obligated to complete them, regardless of personal teaching
philosophy. This exchange highlighted broader tensions within Singapore’s education
system, where standardized instructional methods and curricular mandates limited
teacher agency (Gopinathan, 2013). While Ms. A’s emphasis on adherence ensured
consistency, it also reflected a rigid, results-driven model that prioritized efficiency
over individualized learning (Poon, 2022).

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Ms. A’s insistence on pre-approving classroom strategies before implementation
suggested a hierarchical model of mentorship that may have limited professional autonomy.
Research highlights the importance of providing novice teachers with opportunities to
experiment with pedagogical strategies and adapt approaches based on student needs (Lave &
Wenger, 1991). In contrast, Ms. A’s approach, while supportive, leaned toward directive
coaching rather than collaborative inquiry. This structure ensured that mentees developed
classroom control and adhered to school expectations but also risked stifling innovative
practices and adaptive problem-solving (Schön, 1983). Despite her directive stance, Ms. A
embodied an ethic of care, fostering strong relationships with her mentees. Mr. P’s
willingness to openly share concerns suggested that Ms. A cultivated a psychologically safe
mentoring space. This balance of firmness and support reflected Noddings’ (2013) argument
that effective mentorship requires both high expectations and relational trust. However, the
emphasis on compliance and pre-approved methodologies raised questions about whether the
mentorship process encouraged reflective practice or merely reinforced institutional norms
(Schuelka & Carrington, 2021).
Ms. A’s mentoring approach effectively bridged the gap between theory and practice,
helping novice teachers contextualize educational theories within real-world settings. She
frequently critiqued the disconnect between theoretical ideals and practical realities, aligning
with Schön’s (1983) reflective practitioner model. However, her reluctance to embrace
pedagogical experimentation may have hindered teacher innovation. Lave and Wenger
(1991) highlight that learning occurs most effectively through meaningful participation rather
than rigid adherence to prescriptive models. If mentorship prioritized adherence to
established rules over adaptive problem-solving, mentees might have struggled with
developing resilience to respond to diverse classroom challenges (Pajares, 1992). The
structured, results-oriented nature of Ms. A’s mentorship aligned with MOE’s expectations

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for structured, high-accountability education. However, this approach risked
reinforcing conformity over creativity, a critique frequently raised about Singapore’s
education system (Gopinathan, 2013). Research suggests that mentorship should not
only focus on establishing discipline but also encourage reflective autonomy,
allowing novice teachers to engage critically with pedagogy and adapt strategies to
meet student needs (Poon, 2022). If mentees were only trained to implement preapproved methods, they may have struggled with adaptive decision-making when
confronted with unexpected challenges.
Overall, Ms. A’s mentoring approach was highly structured, directive, and resultsdriven, ensuring that mentees developed essential classroom management skills, professional
accountability, and a strong foundational understanding of teaching. However, her preference
for strict oversight over co-constructive mentoring raised concerns about limiting teacher
autonomy and innovation. While her approach effectively prepared teachers to implement
structured classroom management strategies, integrating greater opportunities for mentee
autonomy and reflective dialogue could better align with evolving global and local trends in
teacher development. Ultimately, effective mentorship should balance structured guidance
with opportunities for mentees to critically engage with pedagogy, innovate, and adapt to
diverse classroom needs.
Discussions for Case Study Two
Ms. A strongly advocated for supporting students with diverse learning needs and
enhancing teacher capacity within her school. Her professional journey reflected the evolving
nature of teachers’ beliefs, shaped by exposure to different pedagogical frameworks, policy
directives, and structural constraints. She actively participated in professional development
and saw herself as a leader in mentoring new teachers, emphasizing the role of experienced
educators in shaping inclusive practices. However, despite her advocacy for inclusion, her

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approach reflected epistemic blindness, particularly in her perception of students with
divergent learning needs. Andreotti (2018) defines epistemic blindness as the belief in a
knowable, controllable world where individuals assume they can define the best pathways for
others’ development. In Singapore, this mindset is reinforced by national policies and
standardized curricula, shaping rigid definitions of progress and ability. Ms. A’s view that
mainstream schooling is only suitable for students who could "access the curriculum"
exemplified this epistemic limitation. She assumed education followed a singular, linear
trajectory and saw SPED schools as the solution for students who struggled, rather than
questioning whether mainstream schooling should be restructured to accommodate diverse
learners. This deficit-based thinking framed learning differences as deviations from an ideal
norm, failing to acknowledge how exclusionary school structures contribute to students'
challenges (García & Guerra, 2004; Schuelka & Carrington, 2021). Her compliance-driven
approach disregarded alternative educational models that emphasize student agency,
reciprocity, and respect for diverse learning needs.
Pedagogically, Ms. A implemented differentiated instruction and cooperative learning
strategies to support struggling students. However, her approach remained rooted in a
traditionalist, meritocratic framework that reinforced hierarchies of ability rather than
promoting genuine inclusion. A key feature of her pedagogy was a strong emphasis on
behavior management and compliance, reflecting Singapore’s broader educational ethos,
which prioritizes discipline and academic achievement over flexibility and responsiveness to
diverse learning needs. Goodley et al. (2019) argue that such an approach reinforces ableist
assumptions about who qualifies as a "teachable" student. By treating existing school
structures as fixed, she overlooked how they actively exclude certain students. Ms. A’s model
of inclusion supported students only insofar as they could function within established
educational norms. Her emphasis on mainstream viability as a criterion for inclusion aligned

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with the medical model of disability, viewing learning differences as challenges to be
managed rather than identities to be supported (Erevelles, 2000, 2011). She frequently
described students who did not meet expected academic standards as “not yet diagnosed” or
in need of additional support, reinforcing a medicalized deficit framework. This framing
pathologized students’ struggles instead of recognizing how systemic barriers create
exclusion (García & Guerra, 2004). By upholding meritocratic ideals, Ms. A contributed to
the categorization of students based on their ability to conform to pre-existing educational
structures. Her role in the Case Management Team further reflected this gatekeeping
function, as she participated in decisions about whether students should remain in mainstream
education or transition to SPED schools. Rather than advocating for systemic change, her
approach perpetuated exclusion under the guise of educational support.
Beyond her classroom, Ms. A was a mentor and leader within her school. Her
mentorship philosophy aligned with Bartolomé’s (2007) argument that professional learning
communities enhance teachers’ ability to adopt inclusive practices. However, she also
reinforced institutionalized teacher identities that separated mainstream teaching from special
education roles. Ms. A believed responsibility for supporting diagnosed SEN students
belonged to SENOs and AEDs, not mainstream teachers. Lim et al. (2014) found that such
institutionalized labels reinforce the division between mainstream and special needs
education, limiting the extent to which inclusion is fully integrated into pedagogical
practices. Furthermore, Ms. A’s mentorship encouraged teachers to accept school policies,
norms, and rules as fixed rather than fostering critical consciousness and responsive
pedagogy. Rather than questioning rigid educational hierarchies, she prepared teachers to
navigate the system efficiently, perpetuating rather than disrupting exclusionary structures.
By positioning herself as an expert in managing diverse learners, she reinforced a top-down

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model of inclusion where learning was structured around teacher-led interventions rather than
student agency (Erevelles, 2011).
While Ms. A was deeply committed to supporting students and mentoring teachers,
her pedagogical approach did not critically interrogate how systemic barriers marginalize
students with learning needs. Instead of challenging hegemonic notions of ability and
success, she reinforced them by framing students' struggles as individual deficits rather than
systemic failures. Her approach reflected Singapore’s compliance-driven educational model,
perpetuating exclusion rather than fostering true inclusion in mainstream education. To move
toward a genuinely inclusive framework, Ms. A must shift from a deficit-based, hierarchical
model of inclusion to one that embraces student diversity as an asset rather than a limitation.
Cross-Case Analysis
Inclusive education in Singapore operates within a competitive, exam-driven
schooling system that prioritizes academic excellence and meritocracy (Deng & Gopinathan,
2016). Within this system, individualized learning needs and non-exam subjects often took a
backseat to high-stakes exam performance (Yeo et al., 2016). This study examined how two
primary school teachers, Mr. N and Ms. A, perceived and practiced inclusive education
within this challenging context. Mr. N was a novice PE teacher in his first year of teaching,
while Ms. A was a veteran English teacher with 36 years of experience. Their different
backgrounds—non-academic subject vs. core academic, novice vs. veteran, untrained vs.
trained—offered insights into how individual experiences shaped understandings of
inclusion.
Perceptions
Mr. N’s perception was shaped by his personal and professional history. Having
attended a top-ranked school where he struggled academically, he developed a critical view
of Singapore’s education system, which he perceived as favoring only high achievers (Sharpe

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& Gopinathan, 2002). Ironically, he also internalized some of those meritocratic values, as
seen in his determination to become a teacher through formal certification pathways. His
background in SPED made him empathetic toward students with diverse learning needs, yet
he viewed mainstream education as largely immutable. He remarked that “full inclusion will
work only in Western countries… In Asian countries, we still conform to our Asian values
and ways,” emphasizing a belief that Singapore’s cultural expectations of conformity and
academic excellence clash with Western models of inclusion (Armstrong et al., 2010).
Furthermore, Mr. N saw mainstream teachers as separate from special educators, believing
that the responsibility for accommodating SEN students lay primarily with AEDs or
specialist teachers (Walker & Musti-Rao, 2016). His perspective aligned with findings that
many mainstream teachers in Singapore perceived inclusion as an additional responsibility
rather than an integral part of their role (Strogilos & Lim, 2019).
On the contrary, Ms. A’s perception of inclusive education evolved over her career.
Initially, she was unaware of students with special needs in her classroom. However, after
working in a special needs environment, her awareness and advocacy for inclusive strategies
increased significantly. Unlike Mr. N, Ms. A actively pursued additional training, such as the
TSN course, positioning herself as a mentor for inclusive teaching. Ms. A acknowledged the
systemic tension between inclusion and academic excellence, noting that while policies
promote inclusion, the meritocratic system remains a significant barrier (Yeo et al., 2016).
She questioned whether inclusion was genuinely embraced by educators or simply
implemented as a necessity due to limited capacity in special schools. Like Mr. N, she
recognized the gap between policy directives and classroom realities, where teachers
supported inclusion in theory but struggled with its practical implementation due to time
constraints and lack of training (Deng & Gopinathan, 2016). Furthermore, Ms. A believed in
appropriate student placement, arguing that students who struggled academically should not

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remain in mainstream classrooms indefinitely if they required specialized support (Strogilos
& Avramidis, 2017). This perspective aligned with the medical model of disability, where the
focus is on placing students in settings that match their abilities rather than fundamentally
altering mainstream environments to accommodate all learners (Erevelles, 2011).
Both teachers operated within a system that promoted inclusion in rhetoric but not
always in practice. Mr. N, being newer, voiced the tensions more bluntly. He saw the ideal
versus real gap and leaned toward pragmatism (and even pessimism) about inclusion in an
exam-centric system. Ms. A, with her long view, acknowledged the same gap but maintained
a more hopeful commitment to inclusive ideals, perhaps because she had witnessed change
over time (however slow). They also differed in how they resolved the cognitive dissonance.
Mr. N resolved it by mentally compartmentalizing inclusion as something more feasible in
the margins (like PE class) and doubting its fit in core academics, whereas Ms. A resolved it
by actively working to bridge the gap—training herself and others—while still sometimes
resorting to the old paradigm, as seen in her acceptance that some students may need to be
“moved out” to special education. Importantly, both teachers agreed that the current system’s
support for inclusion was insufficient. They pointed out the lack of practical training and the
overwhelming focus on academic results as key factors that shaped teacher attitudes..
Practices
As a new teacher, Mr. N predominantly relied on teacher-centered, compliance-driven
instruction. His lessons were structured around direct instruction, task completion, and strict
adherence to routines, leaving little room for student autonomy or differentiation (Freire,
2014). Observations of his PE lessons revealed a strong emphasis on control and discipline, a
strategy often employed by inexperienced teachers to manage large classes (Goodley et al.,
2019). He often embraced a task-driven approach, prioritizing visible productivity over
student engagement or emotional comfort. The lack of differentiation and accommodation in

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his pedagogy illustrated a one-size-fits-all approach, where students were expected to
conform to standard lesson structures rather than having the curriculum adapted to their
needs. He primarily gave instructions and expected compliance, a hallmark of what Freire
(2014) describes as the “banking model” of education. While Mr. N’s rigid approach could
be attributed to his inexperience and lack of training, it aligned with broader Singaporean
educational norms that emphasize structure, obedience, and measurable outcomes over
student agency (Deng & Gopinathan, 2016). His pedagogy supported inclusion only insofar
as SEN students could adapt to pre-existing structures, a practice criticized by Erevelles
(2011) for perpetuating exclusion under the guise of inclusion.
In contrast, Ms. A employed a mix of traditional, structured teaching methods and
differentiated instruction. As an experienced English teacher, she integrated assistive
technologies, group-based learning, and modified assignments to support students of varying
abilities (Yeo et al., 2016). For example, Ms. A used lapel microphones, projectors, and
visualizers, ensuring that her lessons were accessible to all students, particularly those with
hearing impairments. Additionally, she incorporated transmitters linked to hearing aids,
allowing students with hearing loss to clearly follow her instruction. Despite these inclusive
adaptations, Ms. A’s overall classroom structure remained highly teacher-directed. She
prioritized curriculum adherence and discipline, closely following MOE guidelines (Strogilos
& Lim, 2019). Her preference for scripted lessons and worksheets reflected a broader
systemic emphasis on efficiency and content coverage over student-centered exploration
(Tan, 2018). When a mentee teacher suggested reducing rote worksheet use in favor of more
interactive strategies, Ms. A dismissed the idea, stating, “Worksheets are non-negotiable,”
indicating that academic rigor and standardization took precedence over flexible, studentdriven learning (Yeo et al., 2016). Her authoritative classroom management style reinforced
traditional Singaporean educational norms, where behavioral expectations were strictly

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enforced. However, despite her structured style, Ms. A offered individualized support and
positive reinforcement to struggling students, ensuring they felt comfortable asking for help.
These moments suggested that, while her dominant approach remained normative, she
integrated elements of transformative pedagogy, aligning with inclusive education principles
that emphasize student well-being alongside academic achievement (Schuelka & Carrington,
2021).
Ms. A’s greater experience and training in special needs manifested in slightly more
confidence to allow student participation and address personal issues, whereas Mr. N’s fresh
perspective and recent SPED background gave him an intuition for empathy and cultural
relevance that sometimes surpassed what one might expect from a novice. Both, however,
largely operated within the prevailing model of a top-down classroom structure that valued
control and efficiency. Their inclusive practices often occurred in the margins of that model,
such as during group work, brief discussions, or extracurricular mentoring. This highlighted a
crucial point: individual teachers could and did engage in inclusive pedagogies, but these
efforts were often constrained by larger structural and cultural expectations, which are
discussed in the next sections on challenges and systemic influences.
In summary, Mr. N and Ms. A both exhibited a blend of normative and transformative
pedagogical practices, reflecting the complex reality of teaching in an inclusive but highpressure educational setting. Mr. N’s teaching was characterized by a tug-of-war between his
genuine care for students (evidenced in individualized support and cultural inclusivity) and
his insecurity and inexperience (leading to strict discipline and a reluctance to deviate from
norms). Ms. A’s teaching showed deep professional knowledge and intent to nurture every
student, yet it was delivered through a traditionally structured, disciplined framework that she
had honed over decades and found effective for class management. She introduced inclusive

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moments deliberately but in moderation, ensuring they aligned with her lesson objectives and
time constraints.

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Chapter Five: Discussion
Teachers' professional practice is inherently complex, occurring within dynamic
educational environments where identities, experiences, and interpretations are continuously
shaped and redefined by broader systemic forces (Kozleski et al., 2014). Since educational
practices are deeply embedded in cultural, historical, and institutional contexts, examining
them through multiple layers of analysis offers valuable insights into the factors influencing
inclusive education—how it is understood, enacted, and evaluated within classrooms. This
study aimed to examine inclusive practices by exploring the societal, historical, and
institutional forces that shape teachers’ perceptions and pedagogical approaches. Specifically,
it sought to address the following research questions:
1. What were two Primary school teachers' perceptions regarding inclusive education in
Singapore?
2. How were their perceptions revealed in their pedagogical practices and curricular
choices?
This chapter synthesizes the study's key findings, positioning them within the broader
discourse on inclusive education in Singapore. It explores how teachers’ perceptions of
inclusion are shaped by their epistemological constructs, institutional frameworks, and sociopolitical influences. As education systems evolve to accommodate greater diversity, the
extent to which inclusion is meaningfully implemented remains a critical concern. In
Singapore, where meritocracy and standardization continue to define educational success, a
deeper examination of how teachers interpret and enact inclusive practices is essential. By
engaging with teachers' perspectives, this study provides a nuanced understanding of how
inclusion is conceptualized, negotiated, and applied in practice. The findings reveal the
tensions between policy aspirations and classroom realities, raising significant questions
about the structural conditions that either facilitate or hinder inclusive education. In this

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chapter, I aim to critically examine the findings of this study within the context of
existing research, drawing connections between teachers’ lived experiences and the
institutional and ideological forces shaping inclusive education. Finally, the
discussion will explore the implications of these findings for policy, practice, and
future research, contributing to ongoing efforts to foster a more inclusive and
equitable educational landscape.
Discussion of Findings
The study examined the perceptions and pedagogical practices of two primary school
teachers, Mr. N and Ms. A, in relation to inclusive education in Singapore’s exam-driven and
meritocratic education system. The findings revealed that while both teachers acknowledged
the importance of inclusive education, their beliefs and practices were shaped by systemic
constraints and their individual experiences. Broadly, the findings aligned with the literature
on inclusive education in Singapore, particularly regarding the tensions between policy
rhetoric and classroom realities (Deng & Gopinathan, 2016). However, divergences emerged
in the way each teacher negotiated inclusion within their pedagogical approaches. This
section discusses the key findings in relation to existing literature, focusing on their
perceptions, pedagogical practices, and the systemic barriers that impacted inclusive
education.
The cross-case analysis of Mr. N and Ms. A highlighted the complex interplay
between teacher beliefs, pedagogical practices, systemic constraints, and cultural influences
in shaping inclusive education in Singapore. Despite differences in experience, subject focus,
and training, both teachers demonstrated a tension between inclusive ideals and practical
implementation challenges. A key finding was that inclusion remained largely constrained by
Singapore’s exam-driven, meritocratic system (Deng & Gopinathan, 2016). While both
teachers acknowledged the importance of inclusive education, their practices were shaped by

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institutional expectations of academic excellence, discipline, and efficiency (Yeo et al.,
2016). Mr. N’s teacher-centered approach and reluctance to adapt lessons for students with
SEN reflected a lack of training and confidence, while Ms. A’s structured, differentiated
instruction was more inclusive but still restricted by curriculum mandates (Strogilos & Lim,
2019). This aligned with research indicating that mainstream teachers often felt ill-equipped
to provide meaningful differentiation due to time constraints, lack of collaboration
opportunities, and an overwhelming focus on academic achievement (Sharpe & Gopinathan,
2002).
Another major barrier to inclusion was the rigidity of classroom structures and
pedagogical norms. Both teachers prioritized control, discipline, and standardized instruction,
reflecting Singapore’s broader educational ethos of order and compliance (Poon, 2022;
Sharpe & Gopinathan, 2002; Strogilos & Lim, 2019). Even Ms. A, who integrated assistive
technology and differentiated instruction, ultimately adhered to a structured, teacher-directed
model that limited student agency (Schuelka & Carrington, 2021). Mr. N’s lack of
differentiation strategies further reinforced the one-size-fits-all approach, which inadvertently
marginalized students who did not conform to standard expectations (Erevelles, 2011). Both
teachers reported that inclusive education felt like extra work due to the emotional labor and
planning demands involved (La Salle & Johnson, 2018). Mr. N, feeling overwhelmed by
classroom management and differentiation, defaulted to strict discipline-based methods
(Walker & Musti-Rao, 2016). Research suggests that when inclusion lacks systemic support
like co-teaching models, structured planning time, and reduced class sizes, teachers
experience burnout and resistance (Strogilos & Avramidis, 2017).
Furthermore, this study underscored the gap between policy rhetoric and classroom
realities. While national policies advocate for inclusive education, practical constraints such
as workload pressures, lack of professional development, and insufficient systemic support

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hindered full implementation (Deng & Gopinathan, 2016). Mr. N and Ms. A’s experiences
reflected a common challenge in Singaporean schools, where inclusive efforts were often
dependent on individual teacher initiative rather than systemic support structures (La Salle &
Johnson, 2018).
Teachers’ Perceptions
Mr. N and Ms. A both acknowledged the systemic tensions between Singapore’s
meritocratic education model and inclusive ideals. Mr. N, shaped by his own schooling
experiences, viewed the system as inherently favoring high achievers, a perspective
consistent with previous research highlighting how meritocratic policies marginalize students
with special needs (Sharpe & Gopinathan, 2002). He perceived inclusion as a Western
concept that clashed with Asian cultural values, aligning with Armstrong et al. (2010), who
argue that cultural expectations play a significant role in shaping teachers’ acceptance of
inclusive education. In contrast, Ms. A’s perspective evolved over time. Initially unaware of
students with disabilities in her classroom, her experiences in special education settings led
her to actively support inclusion. However, she remained pragmatic, recognizing that
systemic constraints often limited full implementation (Yeo et al., 2016). Her belief that some
students require specialized support rather than full inclusion aligns with Strogilos and
Avramidis (2017), who argue that a purely inclusive model may not serve all learners
effectively.
The literature suggests that teachers with more exposure to special needs training tend
to have more positive attitudes toward inclusion (Avramidis & Norwich, 2002; Thaver &
Lim, 2014). This aligns with Ms. A’s case—her participation in specialized training programs
led to a proactive stance on inclusion. On the other hand, while Mr. N had a background in
special education, his limited teaching experience contributed to his skepticism about the
feasibility of full inclusion in mainstream settings. Yeo et al. (2016) found that teachers who

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feel underprepared for inclusion are more likely to view it as an additional burden rather than
an integral part of their teaching responsibilities, which reflects Mr. N’s stance.
Teachers’ Epistemologies and the Reproduction of Educational Norms. Teachers’
perceptions were deeply embedded in broader socio-historical and political structures that
shaped their identities and the “self” they brought into the classroom (Douglas & Nganga,
2015). Their ideologies and beliefs about teaching, learning, and inclusion were not formed
in isolation but were intricately linked to issues of power and privilege. Understanding these
connections is critical in fostering teacher reflexivity, by encouraging educators to critically
examine how their ingrained beliefs, values, and attitudes influenced their pedagogical
practices. This study sought to make explicit the ways in which positionality and pedagogy
were interwoven, demonstrating how personal, cultural, and community identities shaped
educational experiences. Teachers’ perceptions were not simply individual preferences but
were shaped by their epistemological constructs—the frameworks through which they
interpreted knowledge and learning.
As Patton (2002) explains, constructivism is rooted in ontological relativity, meaning
that knowledge is not absolute but constructed through lived experiences. Applied to
education, this suggests that teachers' perceptions of students, pedagogy, and inclusion are
not objective truths but are shaped by the ways they interpret and construct knowledge within
their social, institutional, and cultural environments. Ladson-Billings (2000) expands on this
idea by emphasizing that epistemology is not just a way of knowing, but a system of knowing
that has both internal logic and external validation. This means that teachers’ beliefs about
learning, ability, and inclusion are not only personal but are shaped by the dominant
educational paradigms they subscribe to, which in turn are influenced by cultural norms,
institutional expectations, and broader societal discourses. Furthermore, teachers do not just

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passively absorb knowledge; they actively shape and reinforce it through their interactions
with students and pedagogical choices. Their positionalities, identities, and interpretations of
research inform their teaching practices and the ways they engage with students. This cyclical
relationship between perception and knowledge construction means that teachers' views on
inclusion, for example, are not just individual beliefs but are embedded in broader social and
institutional frameworks. These epistemological constructs, therefore, play a crucial role in
either reinforcing or challenging hegemonic and meritocratic educational structures,
ultimately influencing how inclusive education is perceived and implemented in practice.
Spivak (2004) argues that education under colonial and postcolonial regimes often
produces an epistemic disconnect between the elite and the marginalized. In Singapore, this
epistemic gap manifests in how teachers, shaped by a highly competitive, exam-oriented
system, often conceptualize inclusion through a meritocratic lens, viewing students’ success
as a matter of effort rather than systemic privilege. The dominant discourse in Singapore
promotes a belief that every student has an equal opportunity to succeed if they work hard
enough (Gopinathan, 2012). This meritocratic epistemology leads teachers to see inclusion as
providing additional resources or differentiated instruction without fundamentally
questioning the structures that define ability and achievement. The case studies in this
research showcase that teachers trained within a system that privileges high performance may
unconsciously adopt deficit-based perspectives on students with disabilities, viewing them as
lacking rather than recognizing the system as exclusionary. Spivak’s (2004) notion of
epistemic discontinuity explains how even when ideologically advocating for inclusion,
teachers may fail to recognize the voices and experiences of the students they seek to include.
Teachers’ Pedagogical Practices
Mr. N’s rigid, compliance-driven teaching style mirrored broader Singaporean
educational norms that emphasized structure and discipline (Deng & Gopinathan, 2016). His

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reliance on direct instruction and task completion, rather than differentiated teaching,
suggested a one-size-fits-all model, which Erevelles (2011) criticizes for perpetuating
exclusion under the guise of inclusion. Conversely, Ms. A incorporated differentiated
instruction, such as assistive technology and modified assignments, to support students with
special needs. This aligned with Schuelka and Carrington (2021), who advocate for inclusive
pedagogies that prioritize accessibility. However, despite these efforts, her structured,
teacher-centered approach still reflected systemic constraints that prioritized content coverage
and exam preparation over student agency (Strogilos & Lim, 2019). Her reliance on scripted
lessons and standardized worksheets underscored the tension between inclusion and
efficiency in high-stakes academic settings (Tan, 2018).
The availability of support systems, such as AEDs and specialist teachers, played a
crucial role in facilitating inclusion (Walker & Musti-Rao, 2016). However, both Mr. N and
Ms. A highlighted the limitations of these resources, particularly in ensuring consistent and
sustainable inclusive practices. Research by Yeo et al. (2016) suggests that teachers are more
likely to embrace inclusive education when they receive adequate instructional and
administrative support, yet the current system often falls short in providing these essential
resources. Both teachers recognized the dissonance between policy rhetoric and classroom
realities. While Singapore’s national policies advocate for inclusive education, practical
constraints such as heavy workload, lack of collaboration time, and inadequate professional
development hinder meaningful implementation (Deng & Gopinathan, 2016). This mirrors
global findings that inclusion efforts are often dependent on individual teacher initiative
rather than systemic support structures (La Salle & Johnson, 2018).
The Illusion of Access: Integration without Systemic Reform. Educational policies
lie at the intersection of power, oppression, and dominance, shaping access to opportunities
and reinforcing societal hierarchies (Freire, 2014). In Singapore, the dual-track education

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system, which separates students into mainstream and special education pathways, serves as a
structural barrier to inclusion, reflecting deep-seated meritocratic and deficit-oriented
ideologies (Strogilos & Lim, 2019). This division codifies inequality, positioning students
with SEN or lower academic performance as less deserving of the same educational
opportunities, resources, and expectations as their mainstream peers (Teo, 2019). The dual
system assumes that students with disabilities require separate learning spaces, yet this
separation perpetuates educational and social stratification (Kenway & Koh, 2013). SPED
students are excluded from national examinations like the PSLE, limiting their access to
conventional academic pathways and career opportunities (Teo, 2019). Instead of adapting
mainstream education to accommodate diverse learners, the system outsources responsibility
for inclusion to special schools, reinforcing the idea that mainstream classrooms are reserved
for academically capable students (Yeo et al., 2016). Furthermore, the entrenched affiliation
of SPED with the welfare sector runs contrary to the basic right of students with SEN to
access mainstream education (Poon et al., 2013; Strogilos & Lim, 2019). The current dualministry structure of MOE and MSF remains a fundamental impediment to inclusive
education in Singapore. This fragmented governance structure reinforces segregation, creates
inconsistencies in policy implementation, and limits the integration of students with
disabilities into mainstream schools. Placing SPED education under MOE remains a key
policy consideration that needs to be discussed and deliberated to promote true inclusion in
mainstream settings.
However, Singapore’s commitment to inclusive education has gained momentum in
recent years, with significant policy advancements such as the Compulsory Education Act
(2019) and the Enabling Masterplans (Poon, 2022). Since 2004, Singapore has made
significant strides toward creating an inclusive society, with the Enabling Masterplans
serving as a national roadmap for developing policies, programs, and services to reduce

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participation restrictions and activity limitations (Poon et al., 2013; Strogilos & Lim, 2019;
Zhuang, 2016). The Disability Trends Report 2024 (MSF, 2024) states that as of 2023, there
are 36,000 students with reported SEN. 80% of them are supported in mainstream schools;
however, there is no disaggregated data on the number of students in primary schools,
secondary schools, and technical institutions, raising concerns about how inclusion is
measured and understood.
Instead of transforming mainstream education to accommodate diverse learners,
Singapore’s system remains steeped in meritocratic and productivity-driven ideologies,
limiting the full participation of SEN students. Zhuang (2016) highlights that Singapore’s
disability policies are shaped by an economic imperative rather than an educational one,
where individuals with disabilities are framed as needing to be reintegrated into the labor
market rather than supported as full participants in society. This recommodification of
individuals with disabilities is particularly evident in SPED schools, where the curriculum is
largely centered on vocational training and workplace accommodations rather than fostering
autonomy and self-determination. As a result, inclusion is often seen not as a fundamental
right but as a managed intervention designed to prepare SEN students for employment.
Furthermore, Singapore’s non-welfare state stance, which prioritizes self-reliance and familybased support, reinforces the idea that inclusion is a privilege rather than a structural
obligation.
Despite policy commitments, inclusive education in Singapore remains largely
integrationist rather than transformative, meaning that students with SEN are expected to
adapt to existing educational structures rather than the system adapting to meet their needs.
Schuelka and Carrington (2021) caution that globally, many education systems have focused
on expanding access without addressing systemic barriers, resulting in a scenario where
students with disabilities are physically present in schools but not fully included in learning

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experiences. This phenomenon is reflected in Singapore, where only those students with
cognitive and adaptive abilities that align with the national curriculum are placed in
mainstream schools, while others are directed toward SPED schools (MSF, 2024). This
suggests that the mainstream system has not structurally adapted to accommodate diverse
learners but instead selectively integrates those who can conform to existing educational
structures. Slee (2011) refers to this contradiction as the "inclusion paradox"—where schools
claim to be inclusive while simultaneously upholding exclusionary practices.
In Singapore, students with SEN may be physically present in classrooms but remain
excluded from meaningful academic participation due to rigid curriculum structures that
prioritize standardized learning outcomes over differentiated instruction. Instead of
embedding inclusive pedagogies, the education system continues to place the burden of
adaptation on students with SEN rather than on systemic reform. Consequently, students who
struggle to meet mainstream expectations often receive support on an ad hoc basis, leading to
an episodic, fragmented model of inclusion rather than a sustainable, inclusive educational
framework. More importantly, teacher preparedness remains limited, as they receive only
basic training in supporting diverse learners, and the burden of adaptation largely falls on the
student rather than the system. Teachers often lack adequate resources or systemic support to
implement truly differentiated instruction, leading to an over-reliance on external
interventions by AEDs or SENOs, rather than embedding inclusive practices within the
classroom. As a result, teachers may view SEN students as needing specialized spaces rather
than belonging in mainstream classrooms.
Teachers’ inclusive education practices are shaped by these systemic narratives, often
leading to a conditional approach to inclusion, in which students with disabilities are seen as
requiring additional support only if they can meet mainstream expectations. Mr. N and Ms.
A’s belief that mainstream schools may not be the best place for students with SEN reflects

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this ideology. Schuelka and Carrington (2021) caution that expanding access without
addressing quality concerns leads to skepticism among educators about inclusive education.
In Singapore, systemic structures reinforce the idea that SEN students are better served in
SPED schools, reinforcing a segregationist mindset rather than a transformative vision of
inclusion. This belief is not merely personal bias but a product of the structural limitations of
mainstream education and a reflection of broader societal and policy narratives that prioritize
economic viability over authentic inclusion. As a result, teachers frame inclusion as an
administrative and logistical challenge rather than a transformative shift in pedagogy.
Without addressing these epistemic barriers, teachers may continue to view inclusive
education as a burden rather than as a necessary evolution of teaching practices.
Implications for Practice
Inclusive education is not simply about integrating students with disabilities into
mainstream schools; it requires a fundamental redefinition of what education values. Pearl
(1997) argues that democracy cannot function if participation is selectively granted, and the
same principle applies to education. If students with disabilities are treated as peripheral to
mainstream education, the democratic foundations of schooling are weakened. Pearl (1997)
and Slee (2011) assert that schools are not merely places for academic instruction but serve as
training grounds for democratic participation. They posit that inclusive education must be
central to democratic educational practices, emphasizing that democracy cannot thrive if its
foundational institutions—schools—are themselves exclusionary. Any system that justifies
the exclusion of certain groups weakens democratic ideals by reinforcing hierarchies of
participation. Freire (2014) similarly asserts that education is never neutral; it either functions
as a tool for liberation or as an instrument of oppression. In the context of inclusive
education, this means that schools can either challenge or reinforce social stratification. If
students with disabilities or learning differences are viewed as burdensome or requiring

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special interventions, rather than being fully integrated into the mainstream educational
system, exclusion becomes an accepted practice rather than a problem to be solved.
Pearl (1997) critiques deficit-based models of education, which assume that students
who do not conform to standardized norms are lacking in ability, rather than recognizing that
systemic inequities create learning barriers. He argues that such perspectives serve to justify
exclusionary policies, limiting participation in education and broader society. Similarly, Slee
(2011) critiques mainstream education for maintaining special education as a separate
system, reinforcing the notion that certain students do not fit within conventional schooling
structures. He calls for a complete restructuring of schools, advocating for learning
environments where all students, regardless of ability, are viewed as full participants in
education. According to Slee (2011), exclusion begets exclusion, and when students with
disabilities are marginalized in education, their exclusion extends into employment, civic
engagement, and social participation. The marginalization of students with disabilities in
schools thus serves as a precursor to lifelong social exclusion.
The Disability Trends Report (MSF, 2024) highlights these challenges in Singapore,
particularly the declining public support for persons with disabilities since 2019. This shift
suggests that top-down inclusion policies have not translated into broader societal acceptance
of inclusive education. As seen in Figure 7 of the report, the public increasingly perceives
inclusion as a government-driven initiative rather than a collective societal responsibility,
leading to pushback from educators, parents, and the broader community (MSF, 2024). This
resistance aligns with Pearl’s (1997) critique that democratic education fails when it does not
actively challenge exclusionary ideologies. When inclusive education is framed as a policy
mandate rather than a moral and social imperative, it fosters resentment rather than shared
accountability.

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Figure 7
Overall Public Attitude toward Persons with Disabilities
Note. From The Disability Trends Report, Dec 2024 by Ministry of Social and Family
Development (MSF,2024).
Freire’s (2014) concept of conscientization is key to understanding why inclusive
education must move beyond mere access to active participation. Schools must not only
physically place students with disabilities in classrooms but also transform pedagogy,
curriculum, and assessment to center diverse ways of learning. Without this transformation,
inclusion remains a surface-level effort that places the burden of adaptation on students rather
than on the system itself. Teachers, as gatekeepers of knowledge, play a pivotal role in either
reproducing or disrupting exclusionary practices. However, in Singapore’s high-stakes,
meritocratic education system, teachers often struggle to reconcile inclusion with the
pressures of standardized academic achievement.

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Policies
To ensure that inclusive education is authentic rather than tokenistic, Singapore must
move from a policy-driven approach to systemic transformation by implementing curriculum
flexibility, comprehensive teacher training, and embedded inclusive practices. A central issue
in Singapore’s education system is the inflexibility of the national curriculum, which remains
structured around standardized academic benchmarks that prioritize cognitive ability and
academic excellence over diverse learning needs. As Slee (2011) argues, maintaining rigid
curricular structures reinforces exclusion, as students who do not conform to dominant
educational norms are often treated as exceptions rather than full participants in learning. The
national policy to only include those selected SEN students who can access the national
curriculum and adapt to mainstream settings continues to uphold the idea of segregation and
exclusion. This exclusionary filtering mechanism contradicts the principles of inclusive
education, as it prioritizes integration over transformation, maintaining an educational model
that excludes students who cannot conform to existing standards. To address this,
policymakers must mandate curriculum reforms that embed flexibility and differentiated
instruction. Instead of requiring students with disabilities to adapt to rigid academic
frameworks, the education system should be restructured to accommodate diverse learning
styles. Universal Design for Learning, which provides multiple means of engagement,
representation, and expression, must be systemically integrated into the curriculum (Lim &
Thaver, 2020). This shift requires moving beyond remedial or supplementary models of
inclusion, ensuring that learning materials, assessment methods, and instructional strategies
are universally accessible rather than being modified only upon request.
One of the most pressing issues in Singapore’s inclusive education model is its overreliance on supplementary support systems, where students with disabilities receive
accommodations only when needed rather than being fully integrated into everyday learning

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structures. The role of AEDs in Singapore’s mainstream schools exemplifies this overreliance on supplementary support and reinforces a dual-track model, where students with
SEN receive support in designated spaces rather than being fully integrated into classroom
learning (Lim et al., 2014; Schuelka & Carrington, 2021). To dismantle Singapore’s
segregationist model of inclusion, policies must shift from a reliance on specialist
interventions toward embedding inclusive practices within daily teaching:
 Co-teaching models that facilitate collaboration between mainstream and special
education teachers, reducing over-reliance on withdrawal-based interventions and
positioning inclusion as a shared responsibility.
 Peer-assisted learning structures that foster social inclusion and academic engagement
for students with SEN, rather than isolating them with specialist support staff.
 Redesigned assessment models that move beyond standardized testing, incorporating
alternative modes of evaluation that recognize diverse forms of knowledge production
and achievement.
 AEDs as inclusion facilitators rather than remedial specialists, ensuring that their
expertise is embedded within classroom instruction rather than being restricted to
separate interventions.
By shifting the responsibility of inclusion from specialists to the entire educational
ecosystem, Singapore can create a sustainable and authentic model of inclusive education—
one that moves beyond compliance and toward pedagogical transformation.
Practices
A major barrier to inclusive education in Singapore is the limited scope of teacher
preparation, which often reduces inclusion to basic SEN awareness training without fostering
critical pedagogical shifts. Schuelka and Carrington (2021) argue that inclusive education

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requires structural, not just attitudinal, change, yet teachers are often left to navigate inclusion
without adequate professional development. Freire (2014) asserts that education must be a
practice of freedom, where teachers critically engage with issues of power, inequity, and
exclusion. However, in Singapore’s high-stakes, exam-oriented system, teachers struggle to
reconcile inclusive teaching practices with meritocratic pressures. The prevailing belief that
success is based on effort rather than systemic privilege reinforces the deficit-based view of
students with SEN, positioning them as educational burdens rather than full participants.
hooks (1994) argues that teachers must not only disseminate knowledge but also create an
environment that challenges traditional hierarchies of power and exclusion.
In inclusive education, this means shifting teacher preparation beyond technical
knowledge of disabilities to include critical pedagogies that challenge deficit-based views of
students with SEN. Spivak’s (2004) critique of hegemonic structures and the politics of
confirmation provides a deeper understanding of why teachers remain constrained within
compliance-driven models of inclusion. In Singapore, where policies are often top-down and
aligned with economic pragmatism, inclusion becomes a technocratic exercise rather than a
site for critical transformation. Spivak (2004) argues that education within postcolonial states
often functions to reproduce dominant ideologies rather than to question them, reinforcing
systems of discipline and conformity rather than fostering spaces for pedagogical resistance.
Within this framework, teachers risk becoming enforcers of pre-defined educational norms
rather than facilitators of critical, inclusive learning spaces. Instead of treating inclusion as an
administrative obligation, teachers must be encouraged to critically examine their own
epistemologies, questioning how dominant discourses shape their perceptions of ability,
success, and participation. Moving beyond discipline and compliance requires teachers to
adopt a reflexive stance, recognizing their role in either maintaining or disrupting
exclusionary structures.

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Andreotti (2018) draws on Spivak’s (2004) work to understand how education can be
presented as an uncoercive rearrangement of desires alongside the ethical imperative to relate
to the Other. She challenges traditional narratives of education as a straightforward tool for
righting wrongs, instead inviting educators to critically reflect on the complexities of
knowledge, power, and complicity in sustaining injustices. In Singapore, where inclusive
education remains framed within a meritocratic, compliance-driven model, applying the
HEADSUP checklist — Hegemony, Ethnocentrism, Ahistoricism, Depoliticization,
Salvationism, Uncomplicated solutions, and Paternalism — to this discussion can provide a
framework for reconsidering educational practices (Andreotti, 2018, p. 200):
 Hegemony (justifying superiority and supporting domination): Educators must
recognize and challenge dominant narratives that position certain ways of knowing
and being as superior. The over-reliance on supplementary support systems,
withdrawal-based interventions, and segregated instructional strategies reinforces
hegemony by positioning mainstream education as the norm and students with
disabilities as requiring "special" support to fit in. Instead of maintaining a dominant,
deficit-based model of inclusion, teacher practices must shift toward universal design
for learning and co-teaching approaches, ensuring that inclusion is structurally
embedded rather than conditionally accommodated.
 Ethnocentricism (projecting one view, one “forward”, as universal): Singapore’s
meritocratic, high-stakes education system, where success is largely measured
through narrow academic achievements that favor certain cognitive abilities over
others. Teachers must challenge this by valuing diverse learning pathways,
incorporating multiple intelligences and culturally responsive pedagogies, and
resisting one-size-fits-all benchmarks of success.

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 Ahistoricism (forgetting historical legacies and complicities): Singapore often fails to
address the historical and systemic factors that have shaped exclusionary practices.
By engaging with the colonial legacy of educational segregation, the impact of
economic productivity models on school structures, and the privileging of meritocracy
over equity, teachers can help students critically analyze how exclusion is perpetuated
and how it can be dismantled.
 Depoliticization (disregarding power inequalities and ideological roots of analyses
and proposals): Discussions on inclusion are often framed as technical or logistical
issues rather than ideological and systemic ones. Teachers must actively engage
students in understanding the politics of exclusion, moving beyond procedural
accommodations to addressing how educational hierarchies reflect broader social
inequalities.
 Salvationaism (framing help as the burden of the fittest): Inclusion is often framed as
a benevolent effort to help students with SEN catch up to mainstream peers, rather
than redefining the learning environment to support all learners equally. Teachers
must move beyond this charity-based approach by fostering reciprocal learning
environments, where diverse needs are met without reinforcing hierarchies of ability.
 Un-complicated solutions (offering easy solutions that do not require systemic
change): The push for quick solutions, such as relying on AEDs for SEN support or
providing only basic differentiation strategies, reduces complex systemic issues to
surface-level accommodations. Instead, teachers must embrace the complexity of
inclusion, engaging in continuous professional development, critical reflection, and
pedagogical experimentation to support diverse learners more effectively.

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 Paternalism (seeking affirmation of superiority through the provision of help):
Paternalism in teacher practices must be dismantled by involving students with SEN
in decision-making processes regarding their own learning experiences. Rather than
imposing solutions based on mainstream expectations, inclusive practices should be
co-constructed with students, families, and communities to ensure that policies and
pedagogies reflect lived realities rather than institutional mandates.
By embedding HEADSUP into inclusive education, teachers can move beyond
compliance-driven, performative inclusion toward critical, reflexive, and justice-oriented
practices. This shift ensures that teachers are active agents of systemic change rather than
mere implementers of policy directives, creating classrooms that resist exclusionary norms
and reimagine education as a space for democratic participation.
Recommendations for Future Research
A key recommendation for future research is the need to develop an empirically
grounded, culturally relevant pedagogical model for inclusive education in Singapore.
Current approaches often rely on Western frameworks, which fail to account for the unique
socio-cultural, historical, and political realities of the Singaporean context. As this study has
shown, teachers’ perceptions and practices are shaped not only by formal training or policy
but also by deeply embedded cultural values, including beliefs about meritocracy, authority,
and student behavior. Future research should explore how these local epistemologies can
inform the development of inclusive pedagogies that are contextually relevant and socially
sustainable.
Gopinathan (2013) astutely notes that the fundamental problem faced by Asian
teachers in settler colonies is the strong influence of their cultural beliefs and values, which
remain embedded in their pedagogical approaches. These values, including adult-child
relationships, obedience, and respect for authority, shape instructional practices. He argues

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that if the strength of these traditional cultural features is not acknowledged and a Westernoriented pedagogical model for inclusion is adopted without adaptation, it can result in
cultural dissonance, leading to confusion and lack of acceptance. Gopinathan (2013) urges
scholars and policymakers to critically assess the adequacy of Western models in addressing
the challenges faced in Eastern educational contexts. Citing numerous unsuccessful attempts
to implement curricular adjustments rooted in Western frameworks, he contends that the core
issue in pedagogical reforms lies in the failure to consider culturally appropriate and relevant
pedagogical practices in teacher training and classroom instruction. There is a critical need,
therefore, to reframe inclusive education within a pedagogical model that honors local
cultural contexts while upholding the core principles of equity and access.
One promising avenue for future research is the development of an “Asian pedagogy
of inclusion” that draws from indigenous knowledge systems and regional teaching
traditions. Gopinathan (2013) draws from regional literature to argue that the concept of the
“scholar-teacher,” deeply embedded in Chinese culture, could serve as a foundation for an
East Asian pedagogical model. This perspective suggests a shift toward a pedagogy that
values not only content mastery but also elements such as character development and
communal responsibility, which are central to many Asian educational traditions. Current
educational reforms often assume the universal applicability of Western educational
constructs without rigorous, context-specific research. To develop an authentic and effective
pedagogy, teacher education programs must engage deeply with local knowledge systems
and indigenous ways of knowing. This means conducting systematic studies on classroom
practices, the impact of socio-cultural factors on learning, and the effectiveness of different
teaching strategies in diverse Asian contexts. Such research must move beyond theoretical
critique to empirically examine how values such as collectivism, interdependence, and
relationality can be enacted in inclusive classroom practices.

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Moreover, future studies should document and analyze how Singaporean teachers
adapt or resist inclusive strategies in their day-to-day classroom interactions. This includes
identifying culturally congruent teaching strategies, understanding how teachers navigate
institutional constraints, and capturing student perspectives on belonging and participation. A
longitudinal approach could also explore how teacher beliefs evolve over time through
sustained exposure to inclusive pedagogies in professional learning communities. Ultimately,
the aim is not to discard Western theories, but to integrate them thoughtfully with local
understandings to create a hybrid pedagogical model that is both inclusive and culturally
authentic. As this study has shown, teachers are key agents in this process—but they must be
supported by a research-informed, contextually rooted framework that aligns policy, training,
and practice. Such work can serve as a blueprint not only for Singapore but for other
education systems in Asia seeking to develop inclusive models that are equitable,
empowering, and locally meaningful.
Conclusions
The findings of this study underscore the complex interplay between teachers’
perceptions, systemic structures, and the enactment of inclusive education in Singapore.
Teachers’ epistemological constructs, shaped by cultural, historical, and institutional
influences, significantly impact how they conceptualize and implement inclusive practices.
The persistence of meritocratic ideologies within Singapore’s education system results in
tensions between policy aspirations and classroom realities, where inclusion is framed as an
accommodation rather than a transformative shift in pedagogy.
Despite policy advancements, inclusion in Singapore remains largely integrationist,
expecting students with special educational needs to conform to mainstream structures rather
than transforming the system to accommodate diverse learning needs. The study highlights
how systemic barriers, such as the dual-ministry divide, rigid curricular frameworks, high-

187
stakes examinations, and limited inclusive teacher training, constrain efforts toward authentic
inclusion. The over-reliance on supplementary support mechanisms further reinforces a
conditional, rather than structural, model of inclusion. Teachers’ perceptions, shaped by their
professional training and lived experiences, influence their willingness and ability to
implement inclusive strategies, yet these efforts are often undermined by the broader
systemic and cultural environment.
Without addressing the epistemic and structural barriers that limit inclusive education,
Singapore’s efforts risk maintaining a superficial model of inclusion that prioritizes access
without ensuring meaningful participation. There is a pressing need to move beyond
piecemeal reforms and toward systemic transformation: addressing the fragmentation caused
by the dual-ministry structure, aligning responsibilities under a unified framework,
mandating curriculum flexibility, and embedding universal design principles throughout
mainstream education. Teacher education must extend beyond awareness-raising to foster
critical reflexivity, equipping teachers to challenge exclusionary norms rather than merely
managing diversity.
Finally, building a truly inclusive education system requires developing culturally
responsive pedagogical models that honor Singapore’s socio-cultural realities. Future reforms
must thoughtfully integrate Western and Eastern educational philosophies, recognizing
relationality, collectivism, and diverse pathways of success. By situating teachers’ lived
experiences within broader systemic critiques, this study reinforces the urgent need for an
education system that not only expands access but ensures equitable participation,
empowering all students to thrive as full members of society. Ultimately, the success of
inclusive education hinges on our collective willingness to rethink, reform, and rebuild
educational structures by embracing difference not as a disruption, but as the very foundation
of learning and democracy.

188
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Appendix A: Information Sheet
University of Southern California Information Sheet
My name is Abhirami Prakash, and I am a Doctoral Candidate at University of Southern
California, Rossier School of Education. I also hold a role as Principal in CV Children and
Community Services Division (pseudonym).
I am I am seeking your participation in a research study that I am conducting to understand
teachers’ perceptions regarding inclusive education in Singapore, and seek to comprehend
how their perceptions are revealed in their pedagogical practices and curricular choices. The
name of this research study is Teachers’ Perceptions regarding Inclusive Education in
Singapore.
Your participation is completely voluntary, and I will address your questions or concerns at
any point before or during the study. You may be eligible to participate in this study if you
meet the following criteria:
1. You are a resident of Singapore (Citizen or Permanent Resident)
2. You are a full-time Primary School teacher working in a Public Mainstream school
under MOE
3. You have students with Special Education Needs (SEN) in your classroom
4. You are over 18 years old.
If you decide to participate in this study, you will be asked to do the following activities:
1. You will participate in a one-to-one, in-person interview lasting for 60-90 minutes.
2. You will work with the me to come up with a schedule for six non-participant
observations of your class lasting 60 minutes each.
3. You will review your interview transcript via email for 10-15 minutes.

203
4. You will review the consolidated observation notes via email for 20- 30 mins.
5. There may be a follow up interview or meeting in case there is a need to clarify or
change any information you have shared.
I will publish the results in my thesis and ensure that the participants cannot not be identified
in the results. I will take reasonable measures to protect the security of all your personal
information. All data will be de-identified prior to any publication or presentations. I may
share your data, de-identified with other researchers in the future.
If you have any questions about this study, please contact me via email: abhirami@usc.edu or
via phone: 93391495. If you have any questions about your rights as a research participant,
please contact the University of Southern California Institutional Review Board at (323) 442-
0114 or email hrpp@usc.edu.
Thank you for your participation, your time and effort is truly appreciated. Your input and
ideas are valuable, and your contribution is crucial in identifying gaps in our knowledge
about inclusive educational practices in Singapore.
Sincerely,
Abhi

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Appendix B: Interview Protocol
Date of Interview
Interviewee Name
Role / Position
Start Time
End Time
Introduction
Hello, my name is Abhirami Prakash and I am a Doctoral Candidate at USC Rossier School
of Education. I am conducting a study on teacher perceptions regarding inclusion. During this
conversation, I am hoping to learn more about your beliefs and experiences in working with
students with disabilities. Specifically, I’d like to understand your thoughts about inclusion in
mainstream Primary schools in Singapore. During the interview I hope to talk about the way
the policies, societal beliefs, school culture, support systems, and space influence your
perceptions. If discussing any of these topics make you feel uncomfortable, please let me
know and we can skip those sections. Moreover, I would like to clarify that there is no
obligation to answer all the questions. Please do not hesitate to let me know if you would like
to skip a question.
The interview should take approximately 60–90 minutes. I would like to record this
interview using my phone so that I don’t miss any of it. More importantly, I want to ensure
that I capture your inputs accurately, and the recording will help me with that. I will also be
taking notes as a backup, hope that is okay with you? I will place the phone near you, so if at
any time during the interview you would like to stop recording please feel free to pause it.

205
Finally, I would like to say that anything you share with me today will be confidential and a
pseudonym will be used in lieu of your name. Do I have your consent to start the interview?
Do you have any questions before we begin?
Interview Questions
I. Background and Training
a. To begin with, I am interested in knowing more about you and your journey in
education. Can you provide a brief overview of your teaching background,
including your years of experience and specifically, you experience in working
with students with special needs?
b. Thank you very much. What a journey you have had!. Before I we proceed with
other questions, can I you share with me how many students with hearing loss or
other identified learning needs do you have in your class?
c. Could you briefly describe their learning needs and the support you offer them?
d. How will you describe your experience in working in an inclusive setting?
e. With respect to your current role as a mainstream teacher, can you share some
details of the support you received from – Administrators, Allied professionals,
Colleagues, Parents?
f. In your opinion, do mainstream educators receive sufficient training and support
to facilitate the learning of students with special needs in their classroom? If no,
what do you think is lacking?
g. Can you share bit about the training, if any, you have you received for working
with students with special needs?
 What elements of the training did you find helpful?
 What areas of improvement would you suggest for that training course to be more
effective?

206
We are through with the first part of the interview. Next, we will talk about your
ideological beliefs regarding inclusion. Thank you for your open sharing. You are really
helping me by providing rich information and details, truly appreciate it. How are you feeling
about the interview? Is it okay to proceed?
II. Ideologies
a. Very briefly, can you talk about your understanding of inclusive education practices and
policies in Primary schools in Singapore?
b. Based on your knowledge of Singapore’s education system, do you think students with
SEN are able to meet the academic requirements expected in a mainstream classroom?
Please elaborate your thoughts.
c. Do you believe that all students will benefit from learning and collaborating in a
classroom that includes students with diverse abilities?
d. Based in your experience, do students with SEN need more one-to-one support to meet
lesson objectives? What kind of support do they need?
e. One of the common complaints that I have received from my colleagues is that there is
not enough time during lessons to offer additional support to students with SEN. What
are your thoughts on that? Probe - How do you manage your time?
f. In the future, if the Ministry of Education (MOE) were implement changes to the
education system to ensure that all Primary schools become inclusive, do you think our
system and our teachers are ready to cope with the change? If no, what do we need to do
to make that happen? If yes, what did we do right in making inclusion happen?
g. Based on your experiences and interactions with parents, how receptive are they to
inclusive education. Especially those whose students do not have any SEN?
h. In your opinion, what role to the following members in supporting inclusive learning
environments –

207
 Policy makers
 School administrators
 Staff
 Parents
 Students
i. Last and final question, in your opinion, what are the elements of a good inclusive
learning environment? Please elaborate.
That covers everything I wanted to ask. I’ve got some rich data from this interview. Is there
anything that I missed asking you – something important that you think we haven’t covered
in our conversation? I can’t thank you enough for the time you have carved out for this
interview. I will send you the transcript of this interview. Please spare some 10-15 minutes to
review it. It is just to ensure that I have captured your thoughts and ideas clearly.

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Appendix C: Observation Guide
Date of Observation
Teacher Name
Grade / Class
Start Time
End Time
Classroom Management Elements
Evident Notobservable
Comments
T – Teachers comments
O – Observers comments
Physical space is arranged to
support students with HL
Classroom rules – list them
and check how they are
worded / conveyed.
There are rules that showcase
respect for diverse learners in
the community.
Teacher uses the transmitter
diligently to ensure students
with HL can hear clearly

209
There are both visual cues,
charts, and reminders for
students with HL.
Teacher communicates through
writing or non-verbal signals
whenever possible to direct
students.
Teacher scans environment
regularly to ensure all students
are involved and engaged in
the lesson.
Lesson Management Elements
Evident Notobservable
Comments
T – Teachers comments
O – Observers comments
Teacher provides recap of
lesson or tests students’
knowledge and retention of
concepts before commencing
current lesson.
Provides a clear overview of
the lesson

210
a) Explains task in terms of
teachers' and students' actions
b) States the purpose and
objective of the lesson
c) Clearly shares with students
what they will be accountable
for knowing or doing
d) Introduces topic(s) of the
learning task
e) Activates prior experiences
and knowledge relevant to the
topics,strategies, or skills to be
learned
Actively models and
demonstrates concepts,
learning strategies, and
procedures related to problem
-
solving in the content area
a) Provides an organizational
framework that will help
students organize the lesson
information
b) Points out distinctive
features of new concepts and

211
uses examples to show relevant
features of the concept
c) Points out organization,
relationship, and clues in
learning materials that connect
to the concept
d) Models task
-specific
learning strategies and self-talk
that will help students learn the
concept (e.g., rehearsal
strategies, retrieval strategies,
etc.)
Evaluates students'
understanding of self-directed
work t and cognitive processes
by asking students "what, how,
when, why" questions related
to the targeted skill or strategy.
Teacher has maintained a pace
that will allow for all learners
in the classroom to follow the
lesson.
Teacher summarizes the lesson
content and integrates lesson

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content with content of other
lessons or experiences
Time Management Elements
Evident Notobservable
Comments
T – Teachers comments
O – Observers comments
Allocates sufficient time
instruction time and is not
rushing.
There is sufficient time
allocated to clarify doubts and
questions from students
Teacher has allocated enough
time to work with students
who need additional support.
Has clear routines in place to
minimize transition time and
other student movements.
Teacher is able to engage
students through lesson time
and self-directed work time.
Teacher ensures all students
are engaged during self-

213
directed learning by scanning
room.
Differentiated Instruction Elements
Evident Notobservable
Comments
T – Teachers comments
O – Observers comments
The teacher showcase
differentiation in main lesson
or self-directed learning.
Teacher presented modified
goals for students with special
needs.
Teacher was able to assist the
student with SEN to
understand concept of lesson
through modified content.
Teacher had planned for peer
learning or support during selfdirected work.
The students with special
needs were involved during
class discussion.

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Teacher collaborates with the
additional support teacher in
the class to help students with
SEN.
Teacher ensures all students
are engaged during selfdirected learning by scanning
room.

Asset Metadata

Creator Prakash, Abhirami (author)

Core Title Exploring teachers’ perceptions of inclusive education in Singapore

Contributor Electronically uploaded by the author (provenance)

School Rossier School of Education

Degree Doctor of Education

Degree Program Educational Leadership (On Line)

Degree Conferral Date 2025-05

Publication Date 04/30/2025

Defense Date 04/29/2025

Publisher University of Southern California (original), Los Angeles, California (original), University of Southern California. Libraries (digital)

Tag critical disability studies,critical pedagogy,inclusive education,inclusive practices,OAI-PMH Harvest,primary schools,Singapore,teachers’ perceptions

Format theses (aat)

Language English

Advisor Picus, Lawrence (committee chair), Samkian, Artineh (committee member), Cash, David (committee member)

Creator Email abhirami@usc.edu,abhiprax0904@gmail.com

Unique identifier UC11399KFMG

Identifier etd-PrakashAbh-13985.pdf (filename)

Legacy Identifier etd-PrakashAbh-13985

Document Type Dissertation

Format theses (aat)

Rights Prakash, Abhirami

Internet Media Type application/pdf

Type texts

Source 20250501-usctheses-batch-1257 (batch), University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses (collection), University of Southern California (contributing entity)

Access Conditions The author retains rights to his/her dissertation, thesis or other graduate work according to U.S. copyright law. Electronic access is being provided by the USC Libraries in agreement with the author, as the original true and official version of the work, but does not grant the reader permission to use the work if the desired use is covered by copyright. It is the author, as rights holder, who must provide use permission if such use is covered by copyright.

Repository Name University of Southern California Digital Library

Repository Location USC Digital Library, University of Southern California, University Park Campus MC 2810, 3434 South Grand Avenue, 2nd Floor, Los Angeles, California 90089-2810, USA

Repository Email uscdl@usc.edu

Abstract (if available)

Abstract This qualitative case study investigates how two primary school teachers in Singapore perceive and implement inclusive education within a system shaped by meritocracy and high academic expectations. Framed by Critical Disability Studies and Critical Pedagogy, the study explores how dominant ideologies, institutional structures, and socio-cultural factors influence teachers’ beliefs and classroom practices regarding inclusion. The research focused on two central questions: (1) What are the teachers’ perceptions of inclusive education in Singapore? and (2) How are these perceptions reflected in their pedagogical and curricular choices? Data were collected through semi-structured interviews and classroom observations conducted at an inclusive mainstream primary school in Singapore for students with hearing loss. Participants were purposefully selected, and a coding scheme grounded in a conceptual framework linking ideology, positionality, and pedagogy guided data analysis. Findings reveal that although both teachers supported the ideals of inclusion, their practices were constrained by systemic pressures such as Singapore’s exam-driven culture and institutional expectations. These factors led to a tension between their inclusive intentions and the realities of daily teaching, resulting in a reliance on normative pedagogies despite moments of transformative practice. The study underscores the complexity of implementing inclusive education in environments where cultural narratives prioritize academic achievement. The study concludes that teachers’ perceptions and practices are shaped by broader societal and institutional forces. It calls for targeted professional development to challenge epistemological assumptions and address systemic barriers. The research offers critical insights into the enactment of inclusive education in high-performing education systems and contributes to global efforts to strengthen inclusive practices.