Inclusive design in educational environments has increasingly accounted for the varied physical, sensory and cognitive needs of students. But new research from architecture and design firm Corgan, funded by the American Society of Interior Designers Foundation, asks designers to broaden their view: What happens when the adults responsible for teaching, supervising, and supporting those students are not equally considered?

The answer, according to the research, is that routine aspects of the school day can require significantly more physical and cognitive effort for educators with disabilities, chronic illnesses, sensory sensitivities, and other conditions. The findings led the research team to develop an open-source design guidebook intended to help architects, interior designers, administrators, and district leaders translate educator experiences into more inclusive spatial and operational decisions.

The study offers a broader lesson for commercial interiors practice as well: Inclusive design depends not only on meeting accessibility requirements, but also on understanding who may be missing from the design conversation in the first place.

The Gap: Schools Are Often Designed Around Students First

The research began with a relatively simple disconnect. Educators are constant users of classrooms, corridors, workrooms, offices, and other school spaces, yet inclusive school design has traditionally concentrated more heavily on student needs.

According to Corgan, nearly one in eight educators identifies as having one or more disabilities, including learning differences, chronic illnesses, physical disabilities, or visual impairments. Related challenges may also be invisible, showing up through fatigue, sensory overload, mobility limitations, or cognitive strain.

As American School & University reported in its coverage of the study, school environments are also frequently organized around children’s dimensions, schedules, and movement patterns—even though teachers and other staff members may use those spaces continuously throughout a full working day.

This is an important distinction because educators interact with classrooms differently than students do. They repeatedly move between teaching zones, access materials and technology, monitor multiple areas at once, reconfigure spaces, and sustain attention across an entire workday. For an educator experiencing chronic pain, fatigue, limited mobility, or sensory sensitivity, individually manageable tasks can accumulate into a much greater physical or cognitive burden.

In other words, a space can technically be accessible while still requiring some users to expend considerably more energy to do their jobs.

Connecting Lived Experience With Measurable Effort

Rather than relying on one research method, Corgan’s Education team and Corgan—Hugo, the firm’s in-house research and innovation group, combined educator input with experiential testing.

The study included a literature review, 77 in-depth surveys, and 41 interviews with educators with disabilities, according to the AS&U analysis. Researchers then conducted on-site simulations involving 30 participants across seven condition groups representing visible, invisible, chronic, and temporary disabilities or limitations.

The research team combined their simulations with physiological measurement, behavioral observation, and participants’ own feedback. Tools included a gerontological, or GERT, suit and other devices intended to simulate conditions or experiences associated with aging, temporary injury, pregnancy, sensory sensitivity, arthritis, and diabetes.

The methodology is notable for design teams because it connected the lived experiences reported by educators with an examination of the environmental demands that users without those conditions may not immediately recognize.

What Education Designers Should Take From the Research

Perhaps the most useful takeaway is that inclusive design should be evaluated through effort, not access alone.

To start, interior designers can ask how much physical, sensory, and cognitive work a space requires from different users.

Storage may technically be reachable but still difficult to access repeatedly. Furniture may be movable but too cumbersome for a user experiencing pain or fatigue to adjust independently. An open, flexible classroom may support collaboration while increasing sensory and attentional demands. A teaching space may satisfy basic circulation requirements while still requiring an educator to take unnecessary steps dozens of times during the day.

The research therefore supports a layered approach: Reduce friction in everyday tasks, provide meaningful choice and adjustability, clarify how spaces are organized, and account for recovery as part of sustained performance.

Many of those strategies can inform new construction, but the research also considers how existing school environments can better support educators. Better storage placement, adjustable furniture, acoustic interventions, clearer zoning, and access to restorative space may all offer opportunities to improve existing facilities.

The findings also reinforce the value of expanding stakeholder engagement. Designers may routinely interview administrators, teachers, and students, but the makeup of those groups matters. An educator with chronic pain, sensory sensitivity, a visual impairment, or limited mobility may reveal barriers that a generalized user group will not.

Inclusive engagement, in other words, requires more than asking whether educators were consulted. It also requires considering which educators were represented.

When asked about next steps for Corgan, Hoelting said the firm will “continue applying these findings across our projects through design strategies, stakeholder engagement, and evidence-based tools that help reduce barriers and improve well-being for educators of all abilities.

“At the same time, we’re exploring how this research can advance broader conversations around inclusive design in other learning environments, including higher education,” she explained. 

The Larger Commercial Interiors Lesson: Look for the Missing User

Although the research focuses on schools, its underlying question applies across commercial interiors: Who is expected to perform, work, recover, or participate in a space but is still treated as a secondary user?

• In workplace design, employees with chronic illnesses, disabilities, or sensory sensitivities may encounter similar challenges related to cognitive load, physical endurance, environmental control, and access to recovery space.
• Healthcare design must account not only for patients and visitors, but also for clinicians and support staff completing repetitive tasks and working long shifts.
• Hospitality interiors are primarily conceived around the guest experience, yet employees continually navigate service areas, kitchens, housekeeping functions, and other spaces where everyday physical effort can accumulate.
• Retail, civic, and cultural environments likewise include workers and other recurring users whose physical and cognitive demands may differ significantly from those of visitors.

The specific design response will vary by vertical. The more transferable lesson is the process: Identify users whose experiences may be underrepresented, examine the cumulative effort required by routine tasks, and translate those findings into environments that offer greater flexibility and usability before an individual accommodation becomes necessary.

That may be the most resonant contribution of the Corgan and ASID Foundation research. An inclusive design approach does not mean addressing a predefined list of disabilities. It questions whose experience has been treated as the default—and whose has not—then offers informed solutions.

*Contributions by Carrie Meadows include source quotes and research application analysis.