Why Emotional Safety Matters in Reading

Reflections from my doctoral journey in the Science of Learning - July 25, 2026

There are some students I never forget.

They're the ones who hesitate before reading the first word. The ones who quietly apologize after making a mistake, even though no apology is necessary. Some avoid eye contact when it's their turn to read. Others guess quickly, not because they can't decode the word, but because guessing feels less risky than trying and being wrong.

As a reading specialist, I've worked with many students who arrive in intervention carrying years of frustration. By the time they reach me, they often believe they're "bad readers." They expect reading to be difficult. They expect mistakes. Sometimes, they expect failure before the lesson has even begun.

For years, I understood the importance of building trusting relationships with these students because it felt like the right thing to do. I wanted my intervention room to be a place where children felt encouraged, supported, and successful. What I didn't fully understand until beginning my doctoral studies was that emotional safety isn't simply a compassionate teaching practice. It is supported by the way the brain learns.

One of the ideas that has stayed with me from my Educational Neuroscience course comes from Sarah Rogers and Michael Thomas, who write that "Emotions and social needs cannot be left at the door of the classroom. They are baked in, prioritized in the very structure of the brain." That sentence challenged the way I thought about learning. We often speak about emotions as though they compete with instruction, but neuroscience suggests something different. Emotion isn't separate from learning. It's part of the process itself.

When students feel threatened, whether by the fear of making a mistake, reading aloud, or experiencing yet another failure, the brain allocates resources toward managing that stress. Rogers and Thomas explain that stress can interfere with attention, working memory, and the formation of new long-term memories, making it more difficult for students to fully engage with instruction. That realization helped me see many of my students differently. A child who appears distracted or reluctant may not be choosing not to learn. Instead, much of that child's mental energy may already be devoted to managing anxiety.

This feels especially relevant in reading intervention. Reading is deeply personal. Every attempt to decode an unfamiliar word carries the possibility of being wrong, and for students who have experienced repeated failure, those moments can become emotionally charged. Before a child can focus on phonemes, decoding, or comprehension, another question may already be present:

Is it safe for me to try?

The more I study cognitive science, the more I realize that effective reading instruction involves more than selecting the right instructional routines. It also means creating the conditions in which the brain is available to learn. Predictable routines reduce uncertainty. Mistakes become opportunities rather than evidence of failure. Successes, even small ones, are noticed and celebrated. Trust grows. Confidence grows. And as confidence grows, students often become more willing to attempt difficult tasks that once felt impossible.

One study that particularly caught my attention found that upper elementary students with reading difficulties who received anxiety-management instruction alongside reading intervention demonstrated stronger reading comprehension than students who received reading intervention alone. Rather than viewing emotional support as separate from literacy instruction, the researchers suggested that reducing anxiety may free cognitive resources that students can then devote to learning.

The more I learn, the more I find myself returning to a simple idea: effective reading instruction isn't only about teaching children how to read. It's also about creating an environment where their brains are ready to learn. The relationships we build, the routines we establish, and the way we respond to mistakes all influence whether students feel safe enough to persist through challenge.

One of the unexpected gifts of beginning my doctoral program has been discovering that many of the teaching practices I've always valued are supported by research. Building relationships, creating predictable routines, celebrating mistakes, and helping children believe in themselves aren't simply "nice things to do." They are evidence-informed practices that help create the neurological conditions for learning.

As I continue this journey, I'm finding that educational neuroscience isn't changing what I do nearly as much as it's changing why I do it. And understanding that "why" has made me a more thoughtful teacher.

References

Cartwright, K. B., Bock, A. M., Clause, J. H., Coppage August, E. A., Saunders, H. G., & Schmidt, K. J. (2020). Near- and far-transfer effects of an executive function intervention for 2nd- to 5th-grade struggling readers. Cognitive Development, 56, Article 100932.

Cartwright, K. B., Marshall, T. R., & Hatfield, N. A. (2020). Concurrent and longitudinal contributions of a brief assessment of reading-specific executive function to reading comprehension in first and second grade students. Mind, Brain, and Education, 14(2), 114–123.

Rogers, S., & Thomas, M. S. C. (2023). Educational neuroscience: Development across the life span. Routledge.

Vaughn, S., Grills, A. E., Capin, P., Roberts, G., Fall, A.-M., Daniel, J., Cho, E., & Solis, M. (2022). Examining the effects of integrating anxiety management instruction within a reading intervention for upper elementary students with reading difficulties. Journal of Learning Disabilities, 55(5), 408–426.