When we talk about Universal Design for Learning, most people picture classrooms full of students where teachers design instruction and assessments to support multiple tasks and formats. But UDL is not limited to that setting. It’s a mindset and a framework for anyone designing experiences for people, whether they’re learning, growing, or changing behavior. That includes the counselor who meets with a student 1:1, the occupational therapist working on fine-motor skills, the reading specialist leading a Tier 2 group, and even the hiring manager at Panera!
I was reminded of this recently when I stopped at Panera. My son Brec is madly in love with their cinnamon crunch bagel, and so I’m a frequent visitor. When I walked in, there was a small sign that said, “We’re hiring.” But what stood out to me was how they invited people to apply. There was a QR code to scan with your phone, a computer ready to use if you wanted to apply right away, and a stack of paper applications for anyone who preferred to fill them out by hand. Three different ways to reach one clear goal: apply for a job. Of course, I immediately started snapping pictures, and Brec rolled his eyes because he knew exactly what I was excited about. The goal was firm, but the means were flexible. It was such a simple and powerful reminder that when we design for variability, we open the door wider for everyone.
I mean, we get this treatment all the time. Another example I’m super excited about is how, when you order an Uber now, it asks if you’d like to talk or not. The truth is, I could talk a dog off a meat wagon, as my Momma says, but after a long day of presenting, I sometimes love the option to put in my earbuds and just decompress. I choose differently depending on the day and the time of day. That’s flexibility. That’s design that anticipates different needs for different moments.
That’s exactly what we do in education; we design for the incredible humans we serve. Panera didn’t know who would walk through the door that day or what access people would have to technology, but they built flexibility right into the process. We have that same opportunity every time we sit down with a learner. Whether it’s one student, a group of five, or a group of 100, we can plan for variability and provide options and choices to ensure that everyone has the opportunity to personalize their experience based on their strengths, their interests, and how they are feeling.
That is the heart of UDL. It’s about recognizing that humans don’t show up the same way every day. What works for one person may not work for another, and what works for someone today might not work tomorrow. The best design anticipates that. It doesn’t wait for people to struggle before offering alternatives. It assumes from the start that variability is the norm, not the exception, even when working with a single learner.
When I visit schools and districts, I often hear, “UDL makes sense for classroom teachers, but what about the rest of us?” My answer is always the same: this work is for everyone. If you serve students, staff, or families, UDL is a powerful framework to support your planning and design work.
UDL is just as relevant in a one-on-one counseling session as it is in a large lecture hall at the university level. In a counseling session, it might look like offering a student the choice to write, draw, or talk about how they’re feeling. A speech-language pathologist might individualize communication practice by offering visuals, sentence stems, or digital tools so a student can rehearse and record at their own pace. An occupational therapist might let a learner choose between using manipulatives, sand trays, or drawing when strengthening fine-motor skills with each pathway targeting the same skill. For a math interventionist working one-on-one, UDL could mean encouraging a student to choose how to show their thinking: drawing a model, building it with blocks, or explaining it verbally before writing an equation.
Even in non-instructional spaces, UDL still applies. In the cafeteria, it might mean labeling food with pictures and words, offering visual menus, or setting up a quieter seating option for students who need a calmer space to eat. These small shifts make participation accessible and affirming for every student, including those who benefit from individualized support.
That’s what UDL looks like at its best. It’s about creating systems that recognize people as they are and give them what they need to thrive. Whether that’s a QR code, a computer, or a paper form, it’s all part of the same idea: firm goals, flexible means, and a deep respect for human variability. And if you ever need a reminder, just order a cinnamon crunch bagel and look around; you’ll see that great design for humans is already baked in (oh, yes, that pun was totally intentional!).