I’m going to tell you something most teachers won’t.
Some teachers are really bad at online teaching.
They are trying, but they were trained for classrooms—for moving around, reading body language, walking over to a kid’s desk and crouching down to whisper, “Hey, you with me?” It takes time and personal development to translate that into a grid of 25 faces. Some figure it out. Some…don’t.
And your ADHD child is paying the price.
I’ve seen it myself. The teacher who lectures for 45 minutes straight. The one who gets visibly annoyed when a kid types in the chat. The one who says “just pay attention” like it’s a choice.
If that’s your child’s teacher, you’re probably exhausted. You’re trying to compensate for a classroom environment that wasn’t built for your kid, taught by someone who doesn’t seem to understand that “try harder” isn’t a strategy.
Here’s the thing: you rarely can change that teacher. Not with emails, not with meetings, not with well-meaning suggestions. Some will come around. Most won’t.
But you can change what happens on your end of the screen.
Below are eight strategies that work even when the teacher is doing absolutely nothing to help. These aren’t about changing the class. They’re about building a bubble around your child where learning can still happen.
1. Become Their Body Double (Without Becoming the Teacher)
You don’t need to understand the lesson. You don’t need to hover. You just need to be nearby.
Set up your child’s workspace at the kitchen table while you make lunch. Or pay bills. Or scroll on your phone. Your quiet presence anchors them in a way no amount of “focus!” reminders ever will.
What this looks like in real life: You’re chopping vegetables. Your kid is supposed to be listening to a lesson on the Oregon Trail. They start drifting. You say nothing—just glance over. They glance back. They refocus. No lecture required.
The teacher never knows you were involved. Your kid never feels nagged. It just… works.
2. Give Their Hands a Job
The teacher is lecturing. Your child’s hands are empty. This is a disaster waiting to happen.
Empty hands find work. They find pencils to spin, erasers to shred, nearby objects to turn into catapults. The teacher sees fidgeting and assumes distraction. But here’s what I’ve learned: hands that are appropriately occupied are hands that aren’t causing trouble.
What this looks like in real life: Before class starts, put a small object in your child’s hand. A smooth stone. A piece of putty. A paperclip chain. Something that doesn’t make noise and won’t distract anyone else on camera.
The rule: if it clicks, it goes. If it’s silent, it stays.
The teacher will never know. Your child will listen better. This is a free win.
3. Schedule Movement Breaks Around the Lecture, Not During It
Most teachers won’t build movement into their lessons. They’ll expect 30 minutes of stillness. This is unreasonable for your child’s brain.
So you have to steal the movement time where you can.
What this looks like in real life: The five minutes before social studies? That’s not transition time. That’s trampoline time. Jumping jacks. Running a lap around the house. A quick “who can do the most silly walks” competition.
They enter the Zoom sweaty and slightly out of breath. This is good. Their brain is now awake enough to tolerate 30 minutes of a teacher standing in front of a slideshow.
The teacher will never know. Your child will arrive ready to learn.
4. Translate Abstract Time Into Something They Can See
“We’ll be working on this for 20 minutes.”
To an ADHD brain, that sentence is meaningless. Twenty minutes is an invisible, shapeless void. Their attention will wander because there’s nothing anchoring it to the present moment.
What this looks like in real life: A visual timer. One of those red disks that shrinks as time passes. Or a sand hourglass. Or just setting a phone timer on the desk.
When your child can see time passing, time becomes real. They can pace themselves. They can tell themselves “I just need to focus until the red is gone.”
The teacher will never know. Your child will actually complete the assignment.
5. Create a “Second Channel” of Engagement
Some teachers get offended by doodling. They think it means the child isn’t listening.
They’re wrong. For many ADHD kids, doodling is listening. It’s a second channel that keeps the brain engaged while the first channel processes the lecture.
What this looks like in real life: A blank piece of paper. A whiteboard. A sketchpad. The rule: you can draw whatever you want, as long as it’s not distracting anyone else and you can still answer questions when called on.
My own child draws elaborate fantasy maps during class. His teacher once expressed concern. I smiled and said, “Ask him what the last three directions were.” He repeated them verbatim. She never mentioned the maps again.
6. Front-Load the Executive Function
Teachers often give instructions once, verbally, at the beginning of an activity. For ADHD kids, this is like writing directions in water.
What this looks like in real life: Before class starts, ask your child: “What’s the plan for this period? What are you supposed to accomplish?” If they don’t know, help them figure it out from the posted agenda or email.
Then, halfway through, a quick check-in. Not “are you paying attention?” but “how’s it going? You need anything?”
The teacher will never know. Your child will have a fighting chance at actually completing the task.
7. Lower the Stakes on Participation
Some teachers cold-call. Some require cameras on. Some publicly call out kids who aren’t responding. This is genuinely stressful for many ADHD students—not because they don’t know the answer, but because the pressure makes their brain short-circuit.
What this looks like in real life: Pre-game the call. “Hey, just so you know, Mrs. Johnson might ask you a question today. It’s okay if you don’t know the answer. You can say ‘Can you repeat the question?’ or ‘I’m thinking.’ We practice those phrases.”
Also: private chat is your friend. Many teachers allow students to answer via private message. This isn’t cheating. This is accessibility. If your child types the answer to me privately, I know they understood the material. That’s the goal.
8. Renegotiate What “Success” Looks Like
Here’s the hardest one. And the most important.
If your child’s teacher isn’t adapting, you need to stop holding your child to a standard that wasn’t built for them.
Success might not be 100% attention for 45 minutes. Success might be: they stayed in the room. They didn’t mute the teacher. They answered one question. They tried.
What this looks like in real life: At the end of the day, instead of “Did you pay attention?” try “What was one thing you learned?” or “What was the hardest part today?” or just “I saw you working hard during math. Good job.”
You’re not lowering expectations. You’re measuring the right things.
A Word About the Guilt
I know you’re tired. I know you didn’t sign up to be a co-teacher, an executive function coach, and a Zoom tech support specialist. I know you look at other kids who seem to be thriving in this environment and wonder what you’re doing wrong.
Here’s what I need you to hear: You are not failing. The system is failing your child. Those are different things.
Some teachers will never understand ADHD. Some will never adapt their instruction. Some will continue to say “just focus” as if that’s a helpful sentence.
That’s not your fault. And it’s not your child’s fault.
Your job isn’t to fix the teacher. Your job is to build a little bubble of support around your kid where they can still learn, still feel capable, still believe that school is a place where they belong.
You’re doing that. Every timer you set, every fidget you provide, every quiet moment you sit nearby while they struggle through a lesson—you’re doing it.
The teacher may never know. But your child knows.
And that’s what matters.