Newsletter 326: She Just Needed Someone to Believe Her

Hey friends,

Happy Wednesday morning.

It's early. It's raining. I've got a cup of coffee and a bulldog on my lap. And I've been replaying a conversation in my head that I can't stop thinking about.

A few days ago, I was at my girlfriend's birthday party. A big group of us at a deep dish pizza spot. Loud room. There was another large group celebrating a birthday that night, so the energy in the place was elevated.

I ended up down at the end of the table with a friend I've known since high school and her daughter. I've met her daughter before, but we've never really had a chance to talk. Just the dynamics of the room and where everyone was sitting, we ended up chatting the entire time.

I ate one piece of pizza.

If you know me, you know that's unheard of. Especially deep dish. But the conversation was that good.

She's a senior in high school. She's writing a book about autism. And what she told me about her experience with AI tools stopped me in my tracks.

Not because it was surprising. Because it was so familiar.

What You'll Learn Today

• How a high school senior is using Speechify as a genuine accessibility tool, not a shortcut

• Why her teachers pushed back on AI tools and what that means for neurodivergent students everywhere

• The pattern connecting her story, Makena's ChatGPT moment, and my voice-to-text experience

• Why AI tools built for extreme accessibility always trickle down to benefit neurodivergent thinkers

• What's coming in Part 2: the convergence of technologies that's about to change everything

The Tool That Changed Everything

She told me about Speechify.

For those who don't know, Speechify is a text-to-speech tool. It reads text out loud. Documents, articles, messages, anything.

For her, it's not a convenience. It's how she understands people.

She explained that she struggles with some verbal cues. Reading tone, interpreting context, and understanding what people really mean when they write something. Things that come naturally to many people don't come naturally to her.

Speechify bridges that gap.

When she hears text read aloud, she picks up on things she misses when reading it silently. The rhythm, the emphasis, the flow. It helps her understand not just what someone said, but what they meant.

She described the relief of finding a tool that finally worked with her brain instead of against it.

I know that feeling.

Every neurodivergent person who's found their "it factor" tool knows that feeling.

Then Came the Hard Part

Here's where the conversation shifted.

She told me about the struggle of explaining it to her teachers.

Some of them didn't get it. Some of them didn't want to get it.

They saw a student using an AI tool and made assumptions. That she was cutting corners. That she was getting an unfair advantage. That the tool was doing the work for her.

Sound familiar?

She had to advocate for herself. At 17. In a school system that wasn't built for her brain. To teachers who had good intentions but didn't understand that this wasn't about making things easier.

It was about making things possible.

The frustration in her voice when she talked about it? That hit home for me. Because I've had versions of that same conversation my entire life. And I've watched Makena have versions of it too.

Three People, Same Pattern

Let me connect the dots here. Because this is the part that matters.

This young woman uses Speechify to understand verbal and written cues that don't come naturally to her. The tool doesn't replace her thinking. It helps her access information in a way her brain can process.

My daughter Makena (Edition 325) used ChatGPT to structure knowledge she already had about cat medication into an argument that changed my mind. The tool didn't give her the knowledge. It helped her communicate it.

I use voice-to-text (Edition 324) to get my thoughts out at the speed I actually think. The tool doesn't create my ideas. It removes the friction between my brain and the page.

Three different people. Three different cognitive profiles. Three different tools.

Same pattern.

AI as accessibility. Not shortcut. Not a cheat code. Not unfair advantage.

Accessibility.

Why This Is So Hard to Explain

I don't blame every teacher who pushes back on AI tools in the classroom. I really don't.

The education system is facing a flood of new technologies, limited guidance, and serious concerns about academic integrity. I get that. Teachers are doing their best in a system that hasn't given them a playbook for this.

But here's the problem.

When a neurodivergent student uses an AI tool to bridge a gap in how their brain processes information, and a teacher tells them they can't use it?

That's not protecting academic integrity. That's removing an accessibility feature.

No one would take a wheelchair away from a student and tell them to just try harder to walk.

Nobody would remove a hearing aid and say, "You need to learn to listen on your own."

But we're doing exactly that with cognitive tools. Because they're digital. Because they're new. Because people do not yet understand them.

This young woman wasn't asking Speechify to write her book. She was using it to understand how other people communicate so she could respond thoughtfully.

That's not cheating. That's adapting.

Opposite Direction, Same Destination

Here's what I found really interesting about our conversation.

The way she uses AI tools is almost the exact opposite of how I use them. But we end up in the same place.

She uses AI to help her process information. To process what other people are saying. To understand the context and cues that her brain doesn't pick up naturally.

I use AI to help me get information out. To express what's in my head. To structure and communicate ideas that my brain generates fast, but my hands can't type fast enough to capture.

Input vs. output. Two sides of the same bridge.

And that's the beauty of these tools. They're not one-size-fits-all. They adapt to what you need. Whether that's processing language, structuring arguments, translating thoughts into text, or reading the room when social cues don't come naturally.

The common thread isn't the tool itself. It's the gap being bridged.

What Gave Me Hope

I'll be honest. There aren't many high school students I've met who use AI tools the way she does.

Most kids her age are using AI to do homework faster or generate text they don't want to write. That's the headline everyone sees. That's what teachers are worried about. And those concerns are valid.

But she's using it as a genuine cognitive tool. As a way to understand the world better. As accessibility technology that happens to be powered by AI.

And she's writing a book about her experience. At 17.

That's not a kid who's taking shortcuts. That's a kid who found tools that work for her brain and is using them to create something meaningful.

That gives me so much hope.

Because it means the next generation is already figuring this out. They're not waiting for the school system to catch up. They're not waiting for permission.

They're doing it.

Just like Makena went to her room and proved me wrong with ChatGPT.

Just like I found voice-to-text and finally got to operate at the speed of my own thinking.

The pattern keeps showing up.

The Bigger Thing I'm Seeing

This conversation happened at the same time I've been going deep on some research that's been blowing my mind.

Brain-computer interfaces. Neuralink is giving a nonverbal ALS patient the ability to type with his thoughts and communicate for the first time. Speech restoration technology is getting an FDA Breakthrough Device Designation. AI models that can now adapt their thinking in real-time based on the complexity of what you're asking them.

The technology being developed for people with the most extreme accessibility needs, like severe paralysis, nonverbal communication, and complete loss of motor function, is advancing at a pace nobody predicted.

And I want to be really clear here. I'm not comparing dyslexia to those situations. Dyslexia is nowhere near that level of challenge. A person who can't move their body or can't speak faces obstacles I can't fully comprehend.

But here's what I keep thinking about.

The research and technology being built for those extreme use cases? It trickles down.

Closed captioning was built for the deaf community. Now everyone uses it.

Voice assistants were built to help people who couldn't use their hands. Now they're in every home.

Text-to-speech was designed for people who are blind or have low vision. Now it's the tool that helps a 17-year-old understand verbal cues she struggles with.

The pattern is always the same. Technology built for extreme accessibility becomes universal.

And right now, in 2026, we're watching the most advanced cognitive and neural technologies ever created come together at the same time. Brain mapping. Recursive AI learning. Multi-agent systems. Adaptive thinking models. Voice technologies are getting better every month.

All of it will benefit neurodivergent thinkers.

Not as a side effect. As a direct downstream outcome of the research being done today.

What's Coming in Part 2

I'm going to go deeper on this in the next edition.

The convergence of technologies is happening right now. What Claude Opus 4.6, agent teams, multi-agent systems, brain-computer interfaces, and adaptive AI actually mean for people who think differently.

How fine-tuned AI agents could be trained to think like dyslexic thinkers. To approach problems the way we do. To see patterns, make lateral connections, think outside the box. Not just for us, but for everyone's benefit.

And what it means when you can run those agents autonomously, all day, expanding what's possible for neurodivergent minds.

That's the convergence. And it's happening right now.

But I wanted to start here. With a real person. A real conversation. A real story.

Because all the technology in the world doesn't matter if a 17-year-old can't use Speechify in her classroom without being told she's cheating.

The tools exist. The people who need them are finding them.

Now the rest of the world needs to catch up.

Thanks for reading.

If you know a student who's using AI as accessibility, share this with them. Or share it with their teachers.

These conversations matter. And they need to happen more often.

Your kid isn't cheating.

They're adapting.

And that's exactly what we should want them to do.

Matt "Coach" Ivey

Founder, LM Lab AI  |  Creator, Dyslexic AI

(Dictated, not typed. Obviously.)

TL;DR (Too Long, Didn't Read)

🍕 The Scene: Deep dish pizza at my girlfriend's birthday. Loud room, end of the table, ended up in a conversation so good I only ate one piece. That never happens.

📚 The Story: My friend's daughter is a senior writing a book about autism. She uses Speechify to understand verbal cues that don't come naturally to her. It's her accessibility tool, not a shortcut.

🏫 The Struggle: Her teachers didn't always understand. They saw AI and assumed she was cutting corners. She had to advocate for herself at 17 to keep using the tool that helps her brain work.

🔄 The Pattern: She uses AI to take information IN. I use AI to get information OUT. Makena used AI to communicate what she already knew. Three people, three profiles, same bridge. AI as accessibility.

♻️ The Trickle Down: Technology built for extreme accessibility always becomes universal. Closed captioning. Voice assistants. Text-to-speech. The brain-computer interfaces and adaptive AI being built today will benefit neurodivergent thinkers directly.

🧠 The Point: A 17-year-old shouldn't have to fight to use a tool that helps her understand other people. The tools exist. People are finding them. The system needs to catch up.

➡️ Coming Next: Part 2 goes deep on the convergence. Claude Opus 4.6, agent teams, brain-computer interfaces, and what it means when AI agents can be trained to think like neurodivergent minds. Stay tuned.

If you know a student using AI as an accessibility tool, I want to hear about it. And if you're a teacher trying to figure this out, I'm here to talk. These conversations matter.