From Classroom to Kitchen Table

The story behind The Learning Support Hub

If you'd asked me twenty years ago as I finished high school where I thought life would take me, I don't think I could have imagined this.

I certainly didn't imagine that one day I would be standing in school meetings as both the educator and the parent. I didn't imagine becoming a foster carer, navigating trauma and disability, advocating for children with complex needs, writing books, speaking at conferences, or building a business dedicated to supporting the people who walk alongside vulnerable children every day.

But perhaps that's the thing about life.

Sometimes the most important parts of our story are the chapters we never planned.

My journey began in education.

Like many teachers, I entered the profession because I wanted to make a difference. Over the next thirteen years, I taught across a range of subjects and year levels, eventually moving into leadership and learning support roles. I had the privilege of working with hundreds of students and families, helping young people navigate learning, wellbeing, identity and belonging.

I loved education. I still do.

But while my professional understanding was growing, life was quietly teaching me lessons that no university degree ever could.

My husband and I opened our home to foster care.

What started as a willingness to help became a journey that would profoundly reshape the way I understood children, behaviour, attachment, trauma, disability and family.

Like many families navigating disability, trauma and neurodivergence, our home is often loud, messy, exhausting and beautiful all at once. A kind of beautiful chaos that has taught me more than any professional development ever could.

Suddenly, concepts that had once lived in textbooks were sitting around my dinner table.

I learned what it felt like to advocate for a child who struggled to fit within systems designed for the average student. I learned the exhaustion that comes from juggling appointments, reports, support plans and school meetings. I learned how easy it is for behaviour to be misunderstood when people cannot see the story beneath it.

Most importantly, I learned that every behaviour makes sense when you understand the need driving it.

As our family grew through foster care and eventually permanent care, my professional and personal worlds began to collide in unexpected ways.

I found myself sitting on both sides of the meeting table.

One day I was supporting educators to understand families. The next, I was the parent hoping educators would understand mine.

That perspective changed everything.

It deepened my empathy.

It challenged assumptions I didn't even realise I held.

It reinforced my belief that children do well when they can, that connection must come before correction, and that families are often carrying far more than others can see.

Over time, these experiences shaped not only my parenting but my leadership, my teaching and eventually my writing.

I began speaking publicly about trauma-informed practice, inclusion, neurodiversity and supporting children with complex needs. I wrote Beyond the Behaviour to share the realities that many families live behind closed doors. I wanted parents to feel less alone and educators and practitioners to better understand the invisible stories sitting behind the behaviours they encounter every day.

Eventually, I made the difficult decision to step away from my leadership role in education to focus on being the best possible mum I could be.

After many years of pouring into others, I recognised the need to create space for my own family, my health and the work I felt called to build next.

That decision wasn't easy.

But it created room for something new.

The Learning Support Hub was born from the intersection of everything I've learned as an educator, leader, foster carer, permanent carer, parent, author and advocate.

It's a place where practical resources meet lived experience.

A place where evidence and empathy can sit side by side.

A place that recognises that supporting children is complex, messy, beautiful work and that none of us were ever meant to do it alone.

Today, my mission is simple.

I want to help educators, carers, support staff, allied health professionals and families better understand the children in their care.

Because when we look beyond behaviour, we often discover a child who is doing the very best they can.

And when children feel safe, understood and connected, remarkable things become possible.

Thank you for being here.

I'm so glad our paths have crossed.

Jade x