Navigating PR and parenthood: why empathy at work matters more than ever

I’ve worked in PR for over a decade, and I love the pace, the unpredictability, the constant energy. But nothing in my career prepared me for the complexities of parenting a child with additional needs - especially when those two worlds inevitably collided.

My son is five. He’s autistic. And while I’m no expert in neurodiversity, I’m learning every single day what it means to advocate for him, to support him, and to keep all the plates spinning while trying to maintain a career I care deeply about.

I first wrote about this almost one year ago, discussing how after attending a PR Mums event, I didn’t feel alone. Hearing from others who understood what an EHCP was, who’d sat in the same assessments, fought the same battles - it was like breathing out for the first time in months.

Since then, a lot has happened for my little family. As I write this, we’re wrapping up Neurodiversity Month and looking to National Children’s Day—a timely reminder of the importance of nurturing healthy, happy childhoods. It’s also a chance to recognise the ongoing efforts that support the wellbeing of children and families, whether at home, in the workplace, or out in the world.

These conversations matter—now more than ever. Why? Because we often don’t know what our colleagues, employees, or even friends might be navigating in their personal lives. Creating space for empathy, support, and understanding makes all the difference.

Our latest spanner in the works

For example, last year was another important milestone for our little family - my son (and eldest) starting school. We went through the usual motions and in April 2024, my son was offered a Reception place at a mainstream primary school. As the ever-proactive PR person I am, I immediately got in touch with the school, set up multiple settling-in sessions before the end of term, liaised closely with staff to ensure the environment was right for him,and leaned on the EHCP we had worked so hard to secure.

It all felt positive. My son was happy during the sessions. The school seemed prepared. I let myself believe - for just a moment - that things might actually go smoothly.

But then September came, and everything changed.

Despite all the planning, the EHCP, the funding, and countless conversations, the reality didn’t match the promises. The school suddenly said they couldn’t meet my son’s needs (which is becoming worryingly common for mainstream schools). They wanted him to attend for just a few hours a day, slowly building up over weeks and even months. This didn’t make sense - he was thriving in full nursery days, loved learning, and quite literally ran into school with excitement.

But they didn’t listen.

They weren’t prepared. Staff weren’t in place. And when challenges arose, I was expected to drop everything and collect him immediately - an impossible ask for any working parent, let alone someone trying to hold down a full-time job. The school made us feel like our son was a problem they couldn’t handle - like he was too much.

But he isn’t. He’s the happiest little boy and very resilient.

It took just a few days of this chaos for me and my husband(thankfully a teacher who saw the red flags immediately) to make the hardest but clearest decision – we had to move schools.

What followed was an incredibly stressful half-term. We juggled work while frantically searching for a new school, attending meetings, managing short school hours, and putting on brave faces for our son. Without the support of understanding employers and an incredible family network, I honestly don’t know how we would’ve coped.

And then, just after October half-term, everything changed again—this time for the better.

Our son started a new school, and they were everything the first one wasn’t: supportive, prepared, empathetic. They welcomed our son full-time,immediately made the right adaptations, and created a personalised development plan. They listened. They saw him for who he is. And they made it work.

Our local borough was also incredibly helpful and expedited the transfer quickly. And now? Our son is thriving. He loves school again. And we’re finally starting to breathe a little easier.

Why empathy in the workplace is non-negotiable

Even in the best of circumstances, starting school is a huge shift for any family. Add a neurodivergent child to the mix, and it’s another level of complexity and stress.

This experience has made one thing crystal clear: employers -especially in industries like PR - need to do more to lead with empathy and flexibility. We need environments that not only acknowledge the challenges working parents face, but actively support them through open conversations and having a flexible and understanding team. You never know what they are going through, and no parent journey is the same. If my husband and I didn’t have supportive employers, we would still be feeling the impact of our experience today, and might have had to make a serious decision about continuing our careers.

SEN parenting is a minefield. The meetings. The paperwork. The sudden changes.

The emotional toll. Ignorance and inaction from workplaces are not options. If we want to keep great talent in our industry - especially parents -we must show up for them, properly.

To anyone reading this who’s on a similar journey—you’re not alone.

And to every leader out there: please, lead with empathy. It can change someone’s whole world.