This blog was written by Nidhi Singal, Professor, Faculty of Education, University of Cambridge UK; Muskan Khanna, Research Associate, THRIvE Research Centre – TIDE Foundation, India; and Magdhi Diksha, Senior Research Associate, Azim Premji University, Bangalore, and Research Volunteer THRIvE Research Centre – TIDE Foundation, India. This research has been conducted under the aegis of the Cambridge Network for Disability and Education Research (CaNDER) based at the Faculty of Education, University of Cambridge.

While visual data is popular in educational research, sound-based methods are far less common. Yet, both are vital sensations that help us understand human interaction and the sensory impact on the body. The sonic environment, like the visual, provides a powerful lens for understanding community experiences, capturing interactions not always visible.

In our research with teachers with disabilities, we used soundscapes as a reflective tool for participants with visual impairments. Soundscapes, a research method often used in urban planning, are defined as the total combination of all sounds – natural, biological and human-made – in a specific place and time, emphasising human perception.

Seeking to understand the lived experiences of teachers with disabilities across India, we employed soundscapes alongside semi-structured interviews to ensure accessibility and shift agency from researcher to participant, framing the environment as a site of sensory knowledge. This choice was rooted in the principles of inclusive research; we wanted to provide a reflective tool that was more accessible and natural than written alternatives.

By using sound, participants could provide auditory descriptions of their surroundings, allowing us to better understand specific moments in their professional lives. We provided a simple guiding prompt: “A day in the life of a teacher with disabilities, and the enablers and constraints that influence you.” While audio diaries are often used to capture reflections, memories or emotions there is far less focus on soundscapes, the act of recording and listening to the environment itself. Anthropologists like Feld argue that sound is central to making sense, to knowing, to experiential truth. Our research approach is also influenced by “sound walks“, where participants visit specific locations, such as museums, hospitals or urban centres to record the environment and later report on their feelings through interviews or questionnaires.

Eight teachers with visual impairments, recorded two hours of audio in total (each clip between 1–6 minutes), including personal audio diaries and environmental soundscapes. Follow-up debriefing sessions allowed us to move beyond our own interpretations and understand the sounds’ significance from the teachers’ lived experiences. This blog reflects on the use of soundscapes.

Symphony of chaos: Navigating streets

Across the soundscapes, access emerged as a central theme, with six teachers recording their commutes from their home to school. These soundscapes reveal that getting to school is less of a journey and more of a constant negotiation.

Here, we use one example of an immersive soundscape recorded by a male teacher. It illustrates how mobility is shaped by continuous sensory negotiation, rather than discrete barriers.

The audio begins with a wall of urban noise – the aggressive roar of engines and the sharp, rhythmic tap-tap-tap of his cane against the pavement. Through the din of blaring horns, his voice acts as a constant, necessary intrusion.

“Excuse me… side, please.”

He manoeuvres through what comes across as a sea of bodies, eventually reaching the noise of a busy intersection. Here, the struggle shifts from physical to financial. He is heard bargaining with rickshaw drivers who, sensing his vulnerability, often quote inflated fares. The soundscape then transitions to the thunderous rattle of a passing train. Inside the carriage, the chatter of passengers and muffled announcements create a dense layer of sound, through which his polite but firm “excuse me” continues to cut. Upon disembarking, he chooses to walk the final ten minutes. While he describes this as a moment of personal enjoyment, the recording reveals the underlying danger: the steady tapping of his cane is frequently interrupted by the jarring clank of metal – vertical bars installed on the footpath that act as “accessibility hazards” rather than aids. He has collided with them many times.

In his debrief, the teacher shared that a single trip to school can take from 2.5 to 3 hours.

This experience is not an isolated one. For those who rely on their hearing to navigate, the noise pollution of the city is more than an annoyance, it is a barrier to safety. Another teacher shared: 

“Travelling becomes a struggle because the traffic and the noise are so chaotic. It hampers mobility to a great extent. In fact, it makes movement nearly impossible.”

Others noted the lack of viable transport options in rural areas, while a female teacher talked about being vulnerable to people who wish to cause harm.

These recordings reveal a sobering reality that pedagogical labour is compounded by the physical struggle of the commute for these teachers. While interviews focused on teachers’ classroom practice, the soundscapes exposed the other half of the struggle – the gruelling negotiation of simply reaching school.

Ethical reflections

Soundscapes offer an immersive window into reality but introduce complex ethical issues. Recordings often capture “third-party” bystanders who never consented to the study. Navigating this requires a delicate balance – honouring the audio’s raw truth, while protecting public anonymity. Participant safety is also vital, as managing recording devices in crowded, noisy environments can be a dangerous distraction.

Ultimately, these soundscapes do more than document a difficult commute; they reveal that teaching is an act of resilience beginning hours before entering a classroom. These recordings reveal that teachers with disabilities face an invisible challenge of access that remains unaccounted for in how we understand teaching and inclusive practice.

These soundscapes echo the urgent need to transform our public and professional spaces into truly equitable environments for all. Inclusive research recognises that participants are the experts of their own experience. Listening is not simply about methodological equity; the emerging reflections require us to rethink what educational justice requires.