Inter Faith Week
Written by Sarah Bareau
Regional Advisor with Jigsaw Education Group. Primary teacher and RE Lead.
Inter Faith Week takes place annually in November and many places of worship open their doors to the wider public. But what does ‘interfaith’ actually mean and is there a place for it in our schools?
Interfaith refers to encounters that aim to increase understanding between people of different faith groups. Whilst the term ‘faith’ implies religious belief, interfaith is increasingly inclusive of those with non-religious worldviews.
Interfaith work supports many schools’ values, especially those that are centred on empathy, kindness, community or diversity. It’s an opportunity to enrich pupils’ cultural capital and personal development: by learning about the beliefs and traditions of others, we better understand and refine our personal worldview.
This year’s theme is ‘Community: Together We Serve’. Community is always at the heart of Inter Faith Week and our schools are communities too – including staff, pupils and their families. Interfaith activities provide opportunities to explore a wider range of worldviews than the standard RE curriculum allows. They can be both a mirror to reflect pupils who are under-represented and a window through which to encounter unfamiliar beliefs and lived experiences.
One starting point is investigating census data relating to religion. As well as looking at recent statistics, consider previous years and what they might look like in the future. For example, currently 6% of the UK population identifies as Muslim, but this rises to 10% in the 5-15 age range (source: https://mcb.org.uk/resources/censussummary2025/).
Service is also an integral part of this year’s theme. Each year, Inter Faith Week takes place just before Mitzvah Day, a Jewish-led day of social action, which now includes people of all faiths and none. The original meaning of ‘Mitzvah’ is a commandment from God. It has also come to mean an action to carry out the commandment, doing good and helping others. This contributes to Tikkun Olam (repair of the world), which comes from an early Jewish code called the Mishnah.
This year’s theme could inspire you to explore practices rooted in service across diverse worldviews e.g. Sewa (in Sikhi and Sanatana (Hindu) Dharma) and Zakat (in Islam). You could look at examples from religious texts, such as Jesus washing the feet of his disciples at the Last Supper, and non-religious stories, such as The Starfish Thrower, thinking about how these might inspire people’s actions today.
What are the challenges of interfaith encounters?
The most meaningful interfaith work includes holding challenging conversations around areas of disagreement. This needs to happen within a safe space, where participants show respect to those with a different point of view. It is important to ensure such interactions end with repair and reconnection. This could be achieved by returning to shared values and acknowledging each person’s identity beyond their religious or non-religious beliefs.
It can also be challenging to find authentic representation of different faiths when the school or local community is not diverse. See if there is an existing interfaith group in the area, reach out to local RE advisors and explore online resources such as the RE Hubs website.
Planning meaningful interfaith work in schools
Contact theory (or contact hypothesis) was proposed by Gordon Allport in 1954 and continues to be used to facilitate encounters between members of different social and cultural groups, with the goal of increasing understanding between them. There are four key features of effective practice:
- Equal status of participants
In the classroom, this includes setting expectations for respectful curiosity and recognition that everyone has their own identity and point of view, whether that is informed by a religious or non-religious worldview or not.
- A common goal
Effective interfaith work has an intended outcome. It’s an opportunity to draw together learning about different worldviews under a theme, allowing differences of beliefs and practices to be acknowledged within a shared context. Outcomes could include artwork, creative writing, oral presentations or action such as fundraising or litter picking.
- Intergroup cooperation
Collaboration and cooperation are essential life skills. Groupings for interfaith experiences should ensure that young people work with those from different backgrounds to achieve together. Depending on the age of pupils, varying levels of adult support may be needed to ensure all members of the group are able to participate and succeed.
- Support of authority beyond the group
Inviting the Head Teacher, a member of SLT or a governor to take part in the session or speak to young people afterwards demonstrates how the school values interfaith work. Young people could also present their experiences and learning to other year groups or to parents.
Just as schools embed anti-bullying work year-round, so too can interfaith become a regular part of the curriculum. In addition to Inter Faith Week, opportunities include World Religion Day in January, and festivals celebrated by communities represented in the school and local area.
Further resources
Jigsaw Education Group are please to share free resources to help your school engage in Inter Faith Week. Visit our website for more information: https://jigsaweducationgroup.com/resources/
For additional resources for schools, visit https://www.ifw4schools.co.uk/
More information about Mitzvah Day can be found here: https://mitzvahday.org.uk/
The census data for England and Wales from 2021 can be found here: https://www.ons.gov.uk/peoplepopulationandcommunity/culturalidentity/religion/bulletins/religionenglandandwales/census2021
Disagreeing Well in The Age of Disconnect
Written by Dr Lalith Wijedoru
Dr Lalith Wijedoru loves stories with impact. He is a coach, public speaker, and facilitator who harnesses the connecting power of stories to improve social health and emotional wellbeing. In his former career as an NHS consultant paediatrician in emergency medicine, he was part of multiple national award-winning teams in staff engagement using this storytelling approach. Lalith's storytelling consultancy Behind Your Mask now supports employees across multiple work sectors including tech, law, finance, education, healthcare, and the arts.
It’s the interview question that every medical school applicant is expecting to be asked: “Why do you want to be a doctor?” All around the world, aspiring doctors like me somehow managed to say in one way or another: “I want to help people.” Thankfully, University College London (UCL) Medical School gave me the chance to prove it.
As a paediatrician, I played a crucial role in the health of children by providing treatment, preventing disease and injury, and advocating for them. My medical training made me well-versed in the interplay between mind (mental health) and body (physical health).
The coronavirus pandemic was a tsunami that swept disconnect across the planet. Restrictions on our movement outside the home with limited exercise affected all of our physical health. The seismic shift to online working and video conferencing affected our mental health. For me, the biggest impact was social distancing. That had a detrimental effect on our social health.
Social health is our ability to form and maintain positive relationships: those which are healthy and meaningful. Relationships can be with friends, neighbours, and our work colleagues. Our physical, emotional, and spiritual wellbeing depend on strong social bonds with others. Social distancing and remote working threatened our ability and need to deepen human connections.
When we say ‘find your tribe’, we are harking back to our animal ancestors who recognized there was great safety in surrounding ourselves with those who looked and acted like you. Things that were different represented danger, a potential threat. Xenophobia has clear evolutionary roots linked to survival. There is a sense of unity and belonging when you surround yourself with people who share facets of your identity. People who get you in some way. Others who understand you.
Our modern world has become far less segregated than the rest of the animal kingdom. The diversity that has always been there now, for the most part, co-exists in far closer proximity with far greater visibility than ever before. Social connectivity is far from homogenous, but for all the benefits of living in a diverse community, it comes with its challenges.
Diversity is not just in the more obvious visual protected characteristics of ethnicity, gender, or age. It also means diversity of thought, opinion, and belief. With that comes the potential for clash, conflict, and disconnect. So how can we cultivate meaningful relationships in a world that is disconnected ideologically and politically whilst connected digitally?
The vitriol that is not uncommonly seen on social media, the emotional and physical hostility that plays out in protests and counter-protests, and the division that is preached by certain political leaders all fan the flames of discontent, disagreement, and disconnect. People screaming their opinions at each other without consideration to what someone else has to say. Putting fingers in their ears while reciting ‘la-la-la-la’ to block out alternative views. We live in an age of not listening.
I love my alma mater for many things, but in the decades since graduating I am particularly proud of one of its recent initiatives. A campaign called Disagreeing Well. It includes a public panel discussion series, a podcast called The Bridge, and online courses on critical thinking for diverse communities where conflicting opinions and ideas exist and are expressed.
One of the things I learned from the campaign’s public series was the concept of epistemic humility. Being humble with your assumptions about your own knowledge. Recognizing that your understanding of the world is incomplete. Aware that as a consequence, you may not perceive things as clearly as you think you do.
One of the skills to promote disagreeing well is to listen carefully to each other. Listen with the intention to truly understand someone’s lived experience. Listen not with the intention to reply, fix, or criticize. My storytelling consultancy was born out of a time of great disconnect. I strive to create spaces and opportunities for us to truly listen to each other. To listen to our true, personal stories without interruption, without fear of judgment or reprimand or insult.
So what would my medical school interviewee-self think of the doctor I became? I may not be helping paediatric patients and their families with their physical and mental health anymore, but I am certainly helping people with their social health. Stories have the power to educate, engage, and inspire. One of the powers of stories that I like the most are their powers to connect. We can agree to disagree, but through stories we can kickstart respectful conversations that inevitably lead us to find the things that we do agree on. And that can only be a good thing for diversity.
The Importance of Accessibility in Schools for Pupils and Staff
Written by Steve Morley
Stephen Morley, (He, Him). Member, The Institute for Equity. Member, International Association of Accessibility Professionals.
Accessibility in schools is more than just ramps, lifts, or larger print—it’s about ensuring that every pupil and staff member has equal opportunities to learn, teach, and thrive. An accessible environment removes barriers, both physical and digital, and fosters inclusion across the entire school community.
For pupils, accessibility means being able to participate fully in lessons, activities, and social life. Whether through assistive technology, adapted resources, or thoughtful classroom design, accessibility helps ensure that no child is left behind. It gives every student the confidence to contribute, grow, and succeed.
Recently my team and I carried out one of our accessibility building audits at the amazing The King’s School, Canterbury.
It was a pleasure to welcome a new member to our accessibility audit team in Abi James-Miller
Abi brought her lived experience as a visually impaired person and provided considerable insights into utilising AI and innovative technology to enhance the teaching and learning experience in schools and colleges.
Together with our regular team member Bryan, who is a wheelchair user, we were made incredibly welcome as we visited this wonderful historic school.
It is brilliant to see Kings so engaged in striving for inclusion. Working with us to identify barriers, physical, sensory, and physiological and ensuring that pupils, and visitors are made welcome and feel included.
For staff, accessibility matters just as much. Teachers and support staff who face barriers—whether due to mobility, hearing, vision, or neurodiversity—need inclusive workplaces that allow them to perform at their best. This not only supports their wellbeing but also enriches the school by valuing diverse perspectives and talents.
Ultimately, accessibility benefits everyone. When schools commit to designing inclusive environments, they create cultures of empathy, respect, and fairness. This isn’t just about compliance with regulations—it’s about building communities where everyone belongs and has the chance to reach their potential.
Whose Values Are They Anyway?
Written by Adrian McLean
Ambassador of Character, Executive Headteacher, TEDx Speaker, BE Associate Trainer & Coach, Governors for Schools Trustee, Positive Disruptor
This blog is based on a provocation I gave to the Practical Wisdom Network to the question of “Whose values are they anyway?” I approach the provocation through the character lens of practical wisdom.
Walk into any school or scroll through a Multi-Academy Trust’s website, and you’ll see them: Respect, Aspiration, Ambition, Integrity, Courage. Neatly framed, laminated and polished like a branding exercise.
But a question should haunt us: Whose values are they anyway? Who decided that these specific words should shape the daily culture, decisions and futures of an entire community? To answer this, we need to understand the difference between values and virtues and, most importantly, the practice of practical wisdom.
Practical wisdom isn’t just book smarts; it’s life smarts. It’s the ability to do the right thing, at the right time, in the right way, balancing rules with humanity. It’s the skill of making good decisions in messy, real-life situations – choosing what’s good, right, and true, not just what the rulebook says.
Values are the principles we declare we hold, like claiming to value our health. But virtues are the habits that make those values real. If health is the value, then virtues like self-discipline, perseverance, and temperance are what turn it into a daily practice. Self-discipline is choosing a walk over crashing out on the sofa; perseverance is showing up to the gym on the days you just don’t feel like it; temperance is enjoying food without swinging into excess. Put simply: values are what we say, but virtues are how we live, especially when it’s difficult.
Who Decides?
In practice, values are almost always handed down. A trust board. A group of senior leaders. Sometimes, one headteacher with a vision. But how often do we invite students, families, or associate staff into the process? How often do we open the doors to the community whose children will live with the weight of these words? Too rarely. Values are often written in a room by people who will not face their consequences. If that doesn’t unsettle us, it should.
Take, for example, “British Values.” They didn’t emerge from a national conversation; they were written into statutory guidance in 2014 following the “Trojan Horse” affair in Birmingham schools; a moment laced with political anxiety about extremism, identity and belonging. They were less the fruit of civic reflection and more a defensive assertion of national identity.
When one-size-fits-all national values are imposed on a plural, multicultural nation, the risk is that they flatten nuance and erase lived realities.
- What does “democracy” mean to a young person who has never seen their community represented in positions of power?
- What does “rule of law” mean to families who feel over-policed yet under-protected?
- What does “individual liberty” mean when opportunity is unevenly distributed and discrimination silently closes doors?
- What does “mutual respect and tolerance” mean when some identities are merely “put up with” (not representing the true meaning of tolerance), not celebrated or centred?
From a DEIB perspective, this is not neutral ground. British values often land less like a common commitment and more like a top-down script. Practical wisdom reminds us that to live well in community is not about repeating someone else’s script but cultivating the virtues to navigate complexity, difference and difficulty with integrity.
Values vs. Virtue
Aristotle taught that true flourishing wasn’t about abstract ideals but about virtues embodied in practice. As philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre notes, a value on the wall is just a word. A virtue lived out is a habit formed through struggle and character.
Integrity isn’t a poster; it’s the painful choice to tell the truth when it would be easier to conceal it. Empathy isn’t a slogan; it’s the practiced attention to the quiet child in the back row who carries the weight of the world. Without virtuous practice, values are just advertising, not meaning.
What’s Good, Right, and True?
Schools often claim they are places where children learn what is good, right, and true. But these words are slippery. What counts as good for one community may not for another. What is right in an affluent suburb may not be in a town hollowed out by unemployment. And truth, let’s be honest, is never neutral. Curricula are choices. Discipline policies are choices. Definitions of success are choices. Those choices reflect particular cultural and political traditions, not universal truths.
This is why DEIB cannot be an “add-on.” If our values exclude or silence the lived experiences of children from different racial, cultural, religious, or socioeconomic backgrounds, they are not values. They are exclusions dressed up in nice fonts. Belonging is not assimilation into someone else’s values; it is co-creating values that are genuinely shared.
Flourishing. Defined by Whom?
Too often, the system narrows flourishing to one measure: exam results. Grades are the currency of human worth, but here’s the paradox: the system itself is designed to prevent everyone from “succeeding.” Significant numbers of children will always be labelled “below standard” because that’s how exams are normed. The Department for Education’s media guidance is instructive:
- If results go up, its proof policy has raised standards.
- If results go down, its proof policy has raised standards.
A neat trick. But let’s be clear: nobody becomes better at maths simply by sitting a harder paper, especially if they ‘fail’ it. Yet this is the frame in which “flourishing” gets defined: harder benchmarks, narrower outcomes, national straplines.
So if flourishing is defined only by grades, or boxed into compliance with a centrally imposed set of British values, then flourishing is not about children at all. It is about alignment and fitting in. It is about living up to someone else’s story of what counts as good, right, and true.
That is not flourishing. That is conformity.
Pathways for Co-Creation
So, what is the alternative? Practical wisdom points us toward a different path:
- Co-creation with communities: Values forged through dialogue with students, parents, staff, and local voices; not handed down as final.
- Virtue in practice: Schools embedding habits of integrity, courage, empathy, and service in daily routines and structures; not as posters but as pedagogies.
- Flourishing as dignity and contribution: Schools are judged not only on exam results but on how their students leave with the capacity to live lives of meaning, purpose, and contribution to the common good.
- Local nuance, national honesty: Acknowledging that “British values” are not universal values, but one political frame; opening space for communities to shape how values are lived in their context.
The Dare
So here’s the provocation: Whose values are you really living by?
- Are they values chosen in Whitehall and laminated in your corridors?
- Are they values written in a boardroom and handed down like policy?
- Or are they values forged, tested, and lived in the daily practices of your community?
The dare is this: stop treating values as safe branding. Start treating them as dangerous commitments. Dangerous because they demand something of us. Dangerous because they unsettle power. Dangerous because they might actually make our schools places where all young people, not just the ones who fit the script, can truly flourish.
I’ll leave you with the question, not as comfort, but as a challenge:
Whose values are they anyway? Are you ready to change the answer?