Worked examples of the deck in use: a moment, a spread someone laid, and how you might read it.
These are here to show what playing the deck looks like — not to tell anyone what to lay, or how to be. A spread is a design brief for the environment, not a report on the person. Read every example below for what it asks the room to do, never for what it says the person is.
What these examples are not:
- Not a scoring key. There is no right spread, and no matching. No card is better than another, and no hand is a diagnosis.
- Not archetypes. Nobody is "an orchid kid" or "a cave type." A grower card means who I am today; an interaction badge means how open I am right now. The same person might lay something completely different tomorrow.
- Not templates. Don't match a person to an example. These show how to read a spread; they are not profiles to sort people into.
- Not screening. The deck makes needs sayable; it never makes people assessable. The person turns the cards up themselves — that turn is the sharing, and what stays face-down stays private.
Each example ends with the same reminder: one spread, one day.
How to read a spread
Three moves, every time:
1. What's turned up? Only the face-up cards count. What's face-down is private. 2. What is it naming? Say it back in the person's own frame — the feeling, the state, the need — never as a fault. 3. What does the room do? Turn the reading into changes to the environment. That is the whole point.
1. First week in a new, loud classroom
Turned up: buzzy · too seen · no words right now · orchid · a way out · no spotlight
Reading it — a design brief, not a diagnosis: the room is too much, being watched stings, and speech is gone for now. So turn the world down, guarantee a visible exit, and don't put them on the spot. Orchid isn't a label here — it's the person saying "I bloom in the right conditions; set them." Not one card points at something wrong with the person; together they are a list of changes to the room. (A Kind word you might hand over, rather than lay: you belong here.)
One spread, one day. Tomorrow, in a calmer room, the same person might lay bright and come say hi. (Play mode: show me / build a niche.)
2. Stuck at the door to lunch (early years)
Turned up: stuck · i need a minute · a snack or a drink
Reading it: this isn't refusing or dawdling — the engine won't start yet, and there's a body need underneath. So stop the clock, let the minute be a minute, and meet the snack without making it a deal. The move to lunch happens after the pause, not instead of it.
One spread, one day. A short, simple hand is a full and valid spread — a spread can be a single card. (Play mode: show me / build my day.)
3. Planning a day with a support worker
Turned up, across the day: warm (morning) · in the zone (project time) · pulled every way (afternoon) · let me finish · a den
Reading it: mornings are settled — protect that. The deep-focus stretch is a strength, so guard it and give warning before it ends (let me finish). The afternoon is where too many things pile up, so that is where to take things away, and where the den goes. Build the day around the good weather and the deep focus, not against them.
One spread, one day. This is a plan the person made with someone, not a fixed timetable. (Play mode: build my day / moving between.)
4. A whole class lays its weather
Turned up, around the room: bright · fizzy · buzzy · foggy · heavy
Reading it: the room is mixed this morning — a couple of people lit up and ready, a couple with too much coming in, one running low. This is a reading of the group's conditions, not a ranking of people. So maybe not a loud, high-stimulation lesson right now: offer quiet corners and dens for the buzzy ones, ease the pace for the foggy and heavy ones, and let the bright and fizzy energy have somewhere to go.
One spread, one day. Weather moves; the class map will look different after lunch. (Play mode: class weather.)
5. Mapping my sensory edges (older person)
Turned up: prickly · the right temperature · dim the light · headphones · let me control it · my own spot
Reading it: this is a niche-construction brief in the person's own hand. Friction is high, so soften it: fix the temperature, lower the lights, cut the sound, and give a claimed base to work from. The last card matters most — let me control it — because the same light or sound is often fine when the person holds the dial, and too much when someone else sets it. Hand over the controls.
One spread, one day — but this kind of map is worth keeping and coming back to. (Play mode: map the edges / build a niche.)
6. Moving through a day, on my own rhythm
Turned up, in a row: the cave · not right now → the campfire · people i know → the watering hole · come say hi → the cave · i need a minute
Reading it: laid left to right, this is a rhythm, not a contradiction. The person starts solo and closed off, warms to a small known group, opens to the easy edge of the crowd, then heads back to the cave. That is intermittent collaboration — everyone needs alone time, small-group time, and open time, but not all at once and not in the same measure. So let the coming and going cost nothing: no explaining, no earning your way back in.
One spread, one day. The order is the point — the same cards in a different order tell a different story. (Play mode: moving between.)
7. First morning at a new school
Turned up: big step · not yet · watch first · tell me first · a way out
Reading it: the crossing feels too big, and they're not ready to walk in yet. They want to watch from the edge before joining, and they need to know what's coming and that they can leave. So don't march them through the door: say what the morning holds (tell me first), let them hover and watch at the edge — that counts as taking part — guarantee a visible way out, and let not yet mean "check back," not "push harder." The step is big; make the step smaller, rather than the person braver.
One spread, one day. The second morning, with the room already known, may need only watch first — or nothing at all. (Play mode: show me / build my day.)
8. A meeting that keeps overrunning (an adult, at work)
Turned up: pulled every way · full · less talking · a way out · let me finish
Reading it: too many threads at once, no room left to take anything else in, and the talk won't stop. The deck isn't only for children — here an adult has laid their own conditions in a meeting. So take things away rather than add: one thread at a time, fewer words, a clear way to step out, and space to bring a piece of work to a close before switching. The room overran the person; change the room, not the person.
One spread, one day. Laid by the person for themselves — no facilitator needed. (Play mode: build a niche / map the edges.)
9. A new job, first weeks (an adult, at work)
Turned up: big step · tell me first · one thing at a time · say it straight · a way out
Reading it: starting somewhere new is a big crossing, and the unknowns are the hard part. So make the work legible instead of asking the person to settle in faster: say what's coming before it comes, hand over one task at a time instead of a pile, put things in plain words with no hidden test, and keep an exit that costs nothing. None of these are the person's failings — they're a list of things the workplace can do to be readable. This is the deck doing the one thing a workplace-inclusion framework can't do for itself: naming what the day actually feels like from the inside, so any redesign of the room, the systems, and the people has something true to work from.
One spread, one day. The same hand, six months in, may need only tell me first — or nothing at all. (Play mode: build my day / map the edges.)
Make your own
The best examples come from real play. If a spread taught you something about a room, write it up in this shape — the moment, the cards turned up, what the room did — and add it. Keep the frame: read the spread for what it asks the environment to do, never as a verdict on a person. Growers stay "who today," interaction badges stay "how open right now," and there is never a right spread.
And the standing rule holds here too: these cards sit alongside a person's real communication tools, never in place of them. A spread makes one hard-to-voice thing sayable; it is not a full way to communicate, and it is not a substitute for AAC.
Dedicated to the public domain under CC0 1.0. Home: https://stimpunks.org/projects/cavendish-space-project/