Agnieszka Kopacz is a teacher of Polish language and computer science at the Maria Skłodowska-Curie Upper Secondary School in Sopot. She is the recipient of the Teacher of the Year 2025 award, recognized for her commitment, creativity, and ability to foster a welcoming and supportive school environment. Diagnosed with co-occurring autism and ADHD, she speaks openly about neurodiversity as a strength and a valuable resource within the human population. She holds two doctoral degrees, has worked in education for nine years, and consistently implements innovative teaching methods.
In her lecture, Agnieszka Kopacz begins by addressing a long-standing stereotype that has hindered the recognition of autism in girls: the belief that “autism is a boys’ issue”—associated with constant movement, rocking, or hyperactivity. She emphasizes that in girls, symptoms are more often invisible, masked, or misinterpreted. As a child, she did not speak until the age of five, yet the causes were attributed to “enlarged tonsils” or speech technique. No one connected the fact that she could calculate and analyze rapidly while simultaneously struggling with communication and traditional educational expectations.
Family and school played a crucial role in her story. When the idea of holding her back in preschool arose, her mother refused to give up. Instead of labeling her as incapable, the response was consistent effort: speech therapy, remedial classes, and pedagogical support—largely provided within the school system itself. Kopacz stresses that access to real, systemic support in education can determine a child’s future.
Her school experiences reveal two sides of neurodiversity. On the one hand, difficulties with handwriting, spelling, long hours of exercises, and a diagnosis of dyslexia. On the other, mathematics—where she clearly outpaced her peers—and sport. Physical activity and swimming became ways to regulate emotions and tension. In middle school, she took on everything: clubs, projects, extracurricular activities. While this enabled her to function, it also led to overload. As she explains, her body learned a pattern: we manage throughout the school year, and rest—sometimes in the form of illness—comes only when it is finally allowed.
Many childhood memories—now recognized as clear signals of neurodivergence—were once dismissed as “quirks.” Her favorite day in kindergarten was the one when she was left alone and could quietly arrange the toys perfectly. The holiday ritual of rewriting notebooks until they were “just right” was another way of regulating emotions. Whenever chaos appeared around her, tension immediately increased.
An important backdrop to her story is her family home—a meeting point of different ways of functioning. Her mother, now recognized as having ADHD, was energetic and scattered; her father was precise, orderly, and deeply attached to structure in an autistic way. Without diagnostic language, these differences often led to misunderstandings and tension. Only years later did diagnosis allow these experiences—once labeled as “spitefulness” or “messiness”—to make sense.
A breakthrough came through relationships with teachers who were able to acknowledge emotions and give them direction. In upper secondary school, her teacher did not silence her anger but helped translate it into action. Agnieszka Kopacz now applies this model in her own teaching: students may come overwhelmed, exhausted, or frustrated, but the relationship always has clear boundaries. There is openness and attentiveness, as well as clear expectations and structure.
These experiences form the foundation of her approach to a “neurodiversity-friendly school.” Kopacz carefully observes her students, talks with them and their parents, and suggests further diagnostic evaluation when she sees difficulties, distress, or overload. In her classroom, she creates simple yet effective tools for regulation: baskets with stress balls and fidget toys, permission to use headphones, and a clear lesson structure based on stages and timers. She emphasizes in-class work, varied teaching methods, educational games, and thinking rather than rote reproduction of knowledge. One principle is key: students should feel that difficulty does not equal failure, and difference does not equal shame.
The entire lecture is framed by a metaphor that organizes and normalizes neurodiversity: human brains operate on different “operating systems.” Autism, ADHD, or dyslexia are not deficits but different ways of experiencing and processing the world. They require different environmental and educational conditions, yet in no way diminish the right to development, agency, or success. Neurodiversity is not a trend or a marketing gimmick—it is a fact, and recognizing and understanding it becomes a commitment to attentive, responsible, and thoughtful work with another human being.
In closing, Agnieszka Kopacz speaks about the good fortune she experienced—through the people who supported her—and about the responsibility to pass that support on to others. Her story shows that a truly supportive school does not begin with procedures, but with relationships.