When we first started discussing science outreach activities for children in Moradabad, Uttar Pradesh, one question kept returning to us: Who is usually left out of science communication?

Most science outreach programmes are designed for mainstream classrooms. They assume that participants can read printed material, follow verbal explanations, or perform experiments in conventional ways. But what about children with visual impairments, hearing impairments, intellectual disabilities, or developmental challenges? They are often excluded—not because they lack curiosity, but because outreach activities are rarely designed with accessibility in mind.

That realisation became the starting point of our project, Science for All: Fun Learning Activities to Challenge Myths and Superstitions Among Specially-Abled Children, supported through the 6th IndiaBioscience Outreach Grant.

Our motivation went beyond making science enjoyable. During interactions with teachers and community members, we observed that myths and superstitions continue to influence how many everyday events—health, illness, eclipses, weather, or environmental changes—are understood. For children who already face barriers in accessing quality education, opportunities to develop scientific reasoning are even more limited. We wondered whether accessible, hands-on science activities could help nurture curiosity while encouraging children to ask questions rather than accept explanations unquestioningly.

We chose outreach instead of a conventional educational intervention because outreach allows science to be experienced rather than simply taught. Interactive storytelling, demonstrations, drawing activities, and conversations can create an environment where every child participates according to their abilities. We hoped that by adapting activities to different sensory and learning needs, we could make science feel inclusive rather than intimidating.

At the beginning, we assumed that our biggest challenge would be simplifying scientific concepts. We soon discovered that this was not the case.

The real challenge was learning how to communicate differently with different groups of children. A single activity rarely worked equally well for everyone. Some children responded enthusiastically to visual demonstrations, while others preferred tactile experiences, storytelling, or one-to-one interactions. We quickly realised that accessibility is not about creating one "special" activity—it is about being flexible enough to modify every activity according to the needs of participants.

Working closely with special educators became one of the most valuable aspects of the project. Their insights helped us rethink our assumptions about learning and participation. Rather than focusing on what children could not do, they encouraged us to build activities around what children enjoyed and how they naturally engaged with the world.

Our first major outreach programme at Composite School Majhola brought together children with visual, hearing, and intellectual disabilities. We designed storytelling sessions around everyday scientific phenomena and encouraged children to discuss why certain commonly held beliefs may not always have scientific evidence behind them. Drawing and creative expression activities helped children communicate ideas about environmental protection, water conservation, and global warming in ways that did not depend solely on spoken language.

The children's enthusiasm was one of the biggest surprises. Some participants who were initially hesitant, gradually began asking questions, sharing observations, and participating actively in discussions. Their curiosity reminded us that interest in science is rarely absent, it simply needs the right environment to emerge.

Our second activity at Prathmik Vidyalaya Imratpur reinforced another important lesson. While we had initially focused primarily on the children, we realised that lasting change depends equally on teachers, parents, and community members. Many discussions naturally expanded beyond science experiments to conversations about hygiene, environmental responsibility, and critical thinking in everyday life. We began to see the project not just as science communication for children, but as community engagement through science.

Not everything went according to plan.

Some activities required far more time than we had anticipated because they had to be adapted on the spot. Communication methods that worked in one classroom were less effective in another. Coordinating schools, educators, parents, and local authorities also demanded considerably more planning than we had expected. These logistical challenges reminded us that successful outreach depends as much on relationships and preparation as on scientific content.

Perhaps our biggest learning was that inclusion cannot be treated as an afterthought. Accessibility needs to be built into the project from the very beginning, from planning activities and preparing materials to choosing venues and working with educators. The project also changed our understanding of outreach itself. We began with the goal of improving scientific temper among specially-abled children, but we finished with a much broader appreciation of how science communication can strengthen confidence, participation, and community dialogue.

If someone were planning a similar outreach initiative elsewhere in India, our advice would be simple: spend time listening before designing activities. Teachers, caregivers, and especially the children themselves understand their needs far better than any project proposal can anticipate. Their feedback is essential for making outreach genuinely inclusive.

Looking back, we would devote even more time to co-designing activities with special educators from the earliest stages of planning. We would also develop more multilingual, reusable, and accessible learning resources that schools could continue using after the outreach programme ended. Measuring long-term changes in scientific thinking is another aspect we hope to strengthen in future projects.

The IndiaBioscience Outreach Grant gave us much more than financial support. It provided the opportunity to experiment, adapt, and learn from the community. More importantly, it reminded us that inclusive science communication is not about creating separate spaces for specially-abled children, it is about ensuring that science belongs to everyone.

For us, the greatest success of the project was not the number of schools visited or activities conducted. It was seeing children become confident enough to ask, "Why?" That single question is perhaps the strongest foundation for developing scientific temper, and it is one that every child deserves the opportunity to ask.

In one of our school sessions in Manimajra, Chandigarh, a child sat quietly with a small piece of clay in his hands. He pressed it, rolled it, flattened it, and began again. Around him, children were busy with colours, dots, paper, and glue. Some joined numbers to complete a picture, some tore and pasted coloured paper, and some shaped clay into objects they were eager to show. The room buzzed with chatter and movement, but it did not feel restless. Children often described as distracted were absorbed in the activities. A few asked for more sheets, while others waited to show their work. For us, this was the moment the project began to make sense: when children are not first seen as “a problem,” they often show us a different side of themselves.

Art in Action for ADHD: Bilingual Approach Blending Science, Biomarkers and Creative Therapy, led by Anuradha Sharma, with Akanksha Prasad, Prabhsimran Kaur, Anirban Sen from Autism Care Network Foundation, and Nitin Gupta, grew from a concern many of us have seen in schools and homes. ADHD is still misunderstood. A child who cannot sit still may be called naughty; one who forgets instructions, “careless”; and one who leaves work incomplete, “lazy”. Parents feel blamed, teachers feel helpless, and children may come to experience school as a place of correction rather than confidence. We wanted a gentler entry point into this conversation, one that was scientific but not intimidating.

Art offered that entry point- A colouring sheet, a connect-the-dots activity, a tear-and-paste task, a clay model or a visual attention exercise may look simple, but each quietly draws on skills that children with attention-related difficulties often struggle with: planning, waiting, sequencing, hand-eye coordination, frustration tolerance, and task completion. These activities do not feel like tests. The child first experiences engagement, after which it becomes easier to speak with parents and teachers about attention, impulsivity, and classroom behaviour.

The 6th IndiaBioscience Outreach Grants (IOG) helped us move this idea from discussion into school spaces. With permission and support from the Department of Education, Chandigarh, the project was able to enter schools in a structured way, including settings where children under the Children with Special Needs (CWSN) programme were present. This collaboration mattered because school outreach is built on trust: permissions, schedules, principals, teachers, parents, and the academic calendar all have to come together. The grant helped us prepare materials, organise sessions, create bilingual resources in Hindi and English, and bring together experts from science, mental health, art therapy, and community work. The sessions were guided by a specialised art therapist, with remedial special educators supporting children who needed more additional structure or prompting.

The children responded with an enthusiasm that stayed with us. Some were visibly excited as soon as the colours and clay were brought out. Others took time to begin, but slowly became absorbed. Clay modelling, in particular, seemed to have a calming effect. The repeated pressing, rolling, and shaping gave their hands something purposeful to do. Colouring and connect-the-dots activities brought out another kind of engagement. Children tried to stay within lines, complete patterns, find the next number, choose colours, and show their finished work. At times, the classroom became surprisingly quiet because they were genuinely involved. For children often described primarily in terms of distraction or hyperactivity, these moments of focused involvement were deeply meaningful.

The parent interactions gave the project another layer. In one session, a parent spoke about how difficult it was to manage their child’s behaviour at home, especially when instructions were not followed and schoolwork remained unfinished. The concerns were familiar: “He listens only when he wants to,”“We keep repeating the same thing,” and “We do not know whether to be strict or patient.” Instead of focusing on blame or discipline, the discussion shifted towards understanding attention difficulties as a neurodevelopmental condition rather than a behavioural problem. We spoke about breaking tasks into smaller steps, using structured creative activities at home, reducing criticism, and noticing the situations in which the child was calmer. Some parents returned for a second interaction, suggesting that the initial conversation had created a safe space for them to return with further questions, concerns, and hope.

Teachers, too, brought their own experiences into the discussion. They spoke of children who frequently leave their seats, interrupt others, forget their notebooks, stare out of the window, or begin work but do not complete it. These are everyday classroom realities, and through this project, we encouraged teachers to view ADHD not as a label to be feared, but as a pattern of behaviours that can be understood and supported. We discussed how classroom routines, visual instructions, movement breaks, positive reinforcement, and regular parent communication can help. Teachers were also introduced to tools for systematically documenting attention and behaviour. The aim was to help teachers see each child with greater clarity and reduced stress.

Bilingual science communication was central to the project. We worked on handbooks, posters, and brochures in Hindi and English because awareness cannot grow if it remains trapped in technical language. Parents should not need a scientific background to understand why their child struggles with attention, and teachers should not have to read dense clinical material to better support their students. The project also keeps an exploratory scientific component linked to the biological understanding of ADHD. For our team, the 6th IOG became more than just funding. It helped us explore a way of bringing neuroscience, child mental health, education, and art into the same room, and of talking about ADHD without fear or judgment. It helped create spaces where children could participate through their hands, and parents could ask questions without feeling blamed.

Looking back, the most important impact may be a shift in how the conversation began. Instead of asking, “Why is this child not behaving?” we began asking, “What is this child trying to manage?” Sometimes, the first step towards understanding a child is not a diagnosis or formal assessment. Sometimes, it is a quiet classroom moment when a child chooses a colour, completes a pattern, and realises that someone is watching not to correct them, but to understand them.