From Policy to Practice: Why Schools Can’t Wait for Permission to Change
Written by Chloe Watterston
Chloe is an educator, athlete, and advocate for inclusive, curiosity-driven learning, dedicated to creating spaces where every young person feels safe, valued, and empowered. Her work across mainstream and SEND education, community projects, and curriculum reform is driven by a passion for amplifying marginalised voices and breaking down barriers to learning.
A child who feels unsafe today cannot wait for a policy tomorrow. Policy may set ideals, but practice shapes futures. Too often, though, the people who live and breathe education, the teachers in classrooms and the pupils in their care, are absent from the spaces where policy is made. We are told to wait for more research, more reviews, more proof. Yet the proof is already here, played out daily in classrooms and corridors across the country.
Diversity without anti-racism is nothing. Euphemism is the enemy of truth. If education is to be just, the compass must be the stories of pupils and the lived experiences of teachers. Policies written in isolation from practice do not protect children; they leave them exposed. The task is to close this gap- not gradually, but urgently, honestly, and with courage.
At the recent Anti-Racism in Education Conference led by The Black Curriculum, one theme rang clear: the gulf between those who draft policies and those who deliver them.
On paper, education is framed as the great equaliser. Policies promise fairness, opportunity, and protection. Yet between the page and the classroom, those promises are lost. Teachers are expected to diversify curricula without training or resources. Pupils are promised inclusion while staffrooms remain homogenous. The result is predictable: lofty commitments at national level, fragmented efforts at school level, and a profession left carrying ideals without the tools to deliver them.
This disconnect is not neutral. When policy lags, children suffer. When euphemism replaces truth, racism goes unchallenged. When accountability is weak, minoritised teachers leave, students are silenced, and inequities deepen.
What the Evidence Already Shows
The problem is not a lack of data. The picture is already painfully clear. Almost half of schools in England have no Black, Asian, or Minority Ethnic teachers (Mission44). In schools where staffrooms lack diversity, teachers of colour are more likely to leave (UCL). Pay gaps remain, with Black teachers outside London earning less than white colleagues, and the disparities widening further at leadership level (NEU). Nine percent of schools fail to report ethnicity data at all, sidestepping scrutiny under the Equality Act (NEU).
This mismatch between pupils and staff undermines belonging. In fact, schools with the most diverse student bodies often have the least diverse staffrooms and the highest turnover. The climate within schools adds to the problem: Black teachers report feeling less supported, more bullied, and more likely to leave the profession prematurely (NFER).
Meanwhile, grassroots organisations such as DARPL, Lit in Colour, and the HALO Collective are already producing solutions. The challenge is not innovation, but uptake. As one panellist at the Anti-Racism in Education Conference put it: “We don’t need more data to prove what’s happening; we need action.”
From Initiative to Infrastructure: Levers for Change
Anti-racism cannot survive as a project or an occasional initiative; it must be treated as structural reform. That means embedding it into the very infrastructure of education.
It begins with governance and accountability. Governors should receive racial literacy training, and inspections must explicitly evaluate anti-racism alongside safeguarding and attainment. Local authority teams need to ensure that curricula reflect the communities they serve.
Teacher training must also be reimagined. No teacher should qualify without studying systemic racism, and all ITT and PGCE programmes should include mandatory modules on decolonising curricula, equity in behaviour, and racial literacy. Placement schools themselves should be assessed for inclusivity before being approved for trainees.
Policies cannot remain untouched. Behaviour, uniform, and admissions frameworks must be audited for bias, with disproportionate exclusions treated with the same seriousness as safeguarding failures. Euphemism must end: racism is not “bullying” or “unchallenged behaviour.”
Retention and progression for teachers of colour is equally urgent. Mentorship and leadership pipelines need to be developed, pay equity audits should become routine, and climate surveys must capture who feels valued, who feels isolated, and who is being pushed out.
Finally, the curriculum must be understood as a matter of structural reform, not individual goodwill. Decolonisation cannot depend on the enthusiasm of a handful of teachers. Instead, resourced and funded schemes of work must embed diverse voices across every subject. ‘Diversity weeks’ are no substitute for sustained, embedded practice.
This all leads to the deeper question: What Is Education For?
Ultimately, this debate circles back to purpose. Do we want schools to be comfortable – or do we want them to be true?
A Eurocentric curriculum is not neutral; it is erasure. Racism softened into euphemism is not diplomacy; it is complicity. When Black teachers leave at higher rates, this is not attrition; it is structural inequity.
Every delay, every euphemism, prolongs harm. Children notice. Teachers burn out. Communities lose faith.
Education cannot be reduced to paperwork or political cycles. It should be the place where truth is spoken, belonging is built, and futures are shaped. The evidence is here. The stories are here. The only question left is whether we have the courage to act.
Curriculum Shifts That Matter
Anti-racism is not about box-ticking. It is about truth telling. Teachers can bring this to life by introducing writers such as Andrea Levy, whose Small Island sheds light on the Windrush generation, or Caryl Phillips, who’s Crossing the River traces histories of displacement. Poetry and storytelling from figures such as Grace Nichols, Linton Kwesi Johnson, and Jackie Kay provide equally vital perspectives. Hidden histories also belong at the heart of the curriculum: Sophia Duleep Singh, the suffragette princess; and Claudia Jones, founder of Notting Hill Carnival. Representation here is not inclusion for its own sake. It is historical accuracy.
Britain’s multicultural history runs far deeper than the Windrush generation. Ignatius Sancho, born in 1729, became the first Black man to vote in Britain and was also a composer whose letters capture the intellectual life of 18th century London. In 1773, Phillis Wheatley published her poetry in London while still enslaved in America, just 20 years old at the time. Claudia Jones, as mentioned above, deported from the US, went on to become a leading voice in British anti-racism and founded The West Indian Gazette as well as Notting Hill Carnival.
For teachers, the invitation is simple: introduce one ‘hidden history’ into your lesson this week, then ask your students why they had not encountered it before. Leaders should take a hard look at workforce data and ask who is leaving, and why. Governors must review equity with the same seriousness as safeguarding. Policymakers, meanwhile, should stop asking for “more data” and instead start funding the grassroots work already making an impact.
Policy may set ideals, but practice shapes futures.
If the system will not lead the way, then schools themselves must light the path.
“Third Space” Mentoring for Diverse Trainee Teachers
Written by Hannah Wilson
Founder and Director of the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators).
We can develop our beginner teachers to know their craft and know their subject, but where is the space to know themselves? Navigating teaching as a cisgender, heterosexual, able-bodied white woman meant I was often in the majority in most spaces I occupied in my early career. As I progressed in my career I experienced some sexism but on the whole I was left pretty unscathed, my identity was not something that came up.
Our friends at Now Teach have coined a layer of support/ piloted an approach called “Third Space” Mentoring where their career-changing trainee teachers receive triangulated support from a subject mentor, a professional mentor and a ‘3rd space’ mentor, someone with shared lived experience.
At the Belonging Effect we already support hundreds of ITTE and ECF providers through our DEIB training, coaching and consultancy, alongside hosting virtual annual conferences in January and June for each cohort. But, over the last few years we have been thinking and talking about this approach as a team and we have been considering how we can further support the development and retention of trainee and early career teachers who hold diverse identities and who come from marginalised communities.
For our BE team and for the ITTE and ECF providers we work with, we often get asked to support teachers who are struggling, not in the classroom, but in navigating their identity. The trainee is perhaps the only person with their identity in the cohort or in the school. There often is not a mentor in their school nor in their provider who shares their lived experience. One provider reached out for help and advice as they had a Muslim Asian Hijabi woman training to teach science, and she had been placed in a school with an all-male science department, with a male mentor. We provided a safe space for her to work with a mentor who looked like her, who understood her and could help her navigate the unique barriers she was facing.
So in a nutshell, “Third Space” mentoring involves creating a supportive environment where individuals can develop skills and find new perspectives. The space creates a pause between different roles and tasks, where a person can use the time to reflect, re-center and decompress. This neutral space enables collaboration and focuses on an individual’s holistic development. The safety of the space enables an exploration of authenticity and vulnerability, being guided by someone who has walked a similar path.
Through “Third Space” mentoring we can ensure that we are helping our trainees by triangulating their subject development, their professional development and their teacher identity development. Here is some helpful research from McIntyre and Hobson (2015) entitled: Supporting beginner teacher identity development: external mentors and the third space: McIntyre and Hobson 2015 pre-publication.pdf In it they cite a range of theoretical frameworks:
“While the concept of identity is understood and employed in different ways by different writers (Beijaard et al., 2004) and is problematic (Roth, 2008), our own conceptualisation is informed by poststructuralist accounts of identities as multi-layered, multifaceted, dynamic and constantly evolving or in continual flow (Hall, 2000; Gee, 2000; Hamilton, 2010). We also recognise that identity transmutations are linked to socio-contextual factors and to power (Lumby, 2009; Beauchamp and Thomas, 2009), a point which is especially apposite for understanding teacher identities, with some writers seeing these as particularly vulnerable, unstable and susceptible to school and national policy pressures and contexts (Lasky, 2005; Leaton Gray, 2006)”.
Why is this an important development?
- With an increased focus on DEIB and representation we know that ITTE and ECF providers are consciously trying to attract and recruit more diverse candidates so that our workforce better reflects the communities that we serve.
- We need to design more inclusive approaches and spaces to better support our trainees.
- We need to train our staff in our provider and hold to account the staff in our placement schools to do the work – to unlearn and to relearn, in order to fully commit to ensuring that our trainees can flourish and thrive.
How does it differ from conventional mentoring?
- The “Third Space” can be the transition between activities, a chance to pause and reflect, rather than the activity itself.
- It can also refer to a physical or metaphorical space that is neither home nor work, allowing for different kinds of interactions and collaborations.
- The “Third Space” can be a site of cultural hybridity, where new identities and perspectives are formed through the intersection of different cultures.
What are the key aspects of “Third Space” mentoring?
- Individualised support: Working with a dedicated coach/ mentor to develop your own program of inquiry and practice, supporting you in navigating life’s challenges and making lasting changes.
- Developmental support: Mentoring can help with specific issues like career direction, professional development, and learning new skills.
- Collaborative problem-solving: Creating a neutral space where people from different backgrounds can come together to share perspectives and find innovative solutions.
- Holistic approach: Focusing on helping individuals integrate their values and find balance in both their work and personal lives.
Are there some examples of how “Third Space” Mentoring can support, develop and retain diverse trainees?
- Age – we support career changes and those trainees who are shifting their professional identity from being the expert in one field to being the novice in another field.
- Disability – we support trainees who are neurodivergent in processing school life, in self-advocating for what they need whilst developing coping strategies.
- Parenthood – we support trainee parent-teachers in navigating their caring responsibilities and in managing their additional responsibilities.
- Race – we support trainee teachers who are racialised as being black and brown, in exploring their experiences and in considering the weight of representation.
- Sexuality – we support trainee teachers who are LGBT+ in ensuring their safety and in navigating any challenges they face with their community.
- Wellbeing – we support trainee teachers in building a toolkit of strategies to manage their own mental health and wellbeing.
How can we help?
- Would your trainee teachers and early career teachers benefit from an additional layer of mentoring as they navigate their way in the education profession?
- We have a brilliant team of experienced coaches and mentors who want to provide an extra layer of support, virtually, to your ITT trainees and possibly to your ECTs at your sibling providers too.
- We hope this will support trainees who are navigating their identity and lived experiences as they develop their professional identity, enabling them to flourish and thrive, to stay and succeed in the teaching profession.
- We are running another pilot of our “Third Space” DEIB Mentoring for ITTs and ECTs in Spring and Summer 2026.
How do we register our interest?
- The “Third Space” DEIB Mentoring for ITTs and ECTs pilot will run from January-July 2026.
- Your trainees can join a virtual mentoring circle for 4 x 1hr half-termly group sessions.
- Our Belonging Effect Associates will hold a safe virtual space for them and their peers to explore identity themes such as: age, disability, faith, menopause, mental health and wellbeing, neurodiversity, parenthood, race, sexuality and intersectional identities.
- Places are £200+VAT per participant.
- Fill in this Google form to express an interest: https://forms.gle/5dLN9fzQ8qBeaCvw9
- Contact Hannah@thebelongingeffect.co.uk to book places for your trainee and early career teachers.
Seen, Valued… and Able: Designing Classrooms for Social and Academic Belonging
Written by Tricia Taylor
With more than 25 years’ experience teaching and leading in schools across the UK and the USA, Tricia founded TailoredPractice to bridge the gap between research and classroom practice. Driven by a passion for making learning work for everyone, she now partners with schools worldwide to translate cognitive science into practical strategies that challenge and support all learners. A regular Learning & the Brain Conference speaker and author of Connect the Dots: The Collective Power of Relationships, Memory and Mindset, she is also Head of Teaching and Learning at Mallorca International School.
Belonging isn’t separate from academic teaching. Strategies that build knowledge—when done correctly—also build belonging.
A heartfelt card from reception (kindergarten) child to a headteacher, which says: “I love it how you always pay attention to me when I am talking.”
I know the headteacher who received this on the last day of term. She kneels to students’ height, meets their eyes and listens without rushing. It’s powerful when that’s modelled from the top. Behind the scenes, great leaders, like this one, also put systems in place so belonging is as much social as it is academic. Yes, we greet students at the door AND we also design routines, teaching strategies and feedback structures that help every students feel seen, valued and able to learn.
Belonging has two strands
In school, when we talk about ‘belonging’, we often focus on the social—names, greetings, being known. That matters. But students also need academic belonging: the steady sense that their thinking belongs here, that they can see what ‘good’ looks like, and that there’s a fair and achievable route to get there. The strands work best together: warmth without stretch becomes ‘nice but low challenge’; stretch without safety shuts down risk-taking.”
- Social belonging: feeling accepted, respected, included, and emotionally safe with peers and adults.
- Academic belonging: feeling like a valued, accepted and legitimate member of the subject community—“people like me do this work here”—with clear expectations and support to succeed.
Students’ experiences of race, language, gender or identity can shape whether they feel safe and legitimate in the classroom community, socially, emotionally and academicially. As Glenn Whitman from the Center for Transformative Teaching & Learning writes, “Belonging is not a monolithic thing you either have or don’t have … each student will feel a sense of belonging in some spaces but not others.”
Barriers to belonging (what we saw)
This year, when the teachers and I brainstormed barriers to belonging, we could see both social and academic situations when students lack that sense of belonging.
- Social (& emotional) barriers. Mispronounced or shortened names; not knowing who to sit with at lunch; wondering “Does my teacher like me?”; cliques and subtle hierarchies; loneliness; curriculum or displays that don’t reflect students’ identities; inconsistent behaviour norms — “I don’t know how to act here”; lack of trust that it’s safe to be yourself.
- Academic barriers. Unclear success criteria; errors made public with no way to repair; low-challenge tasks that signal low expectations; speed mistaken for worth while the class moves on; English as an additional language without scaffolds; risky participation structures (like round-robin reading or hands-up dominance); tracking/setting that labels students.
- When they overlap. Participation feels risky or pointless; attention shifts to self-protection and working memory overloads with worry. The result is less learning.
What students say works
When teenagers describe classes where they belong, two themes surface. They feel they belong when (1) teachers intentionally build trust and peer relationships, for example, using seating to encourage peer interaction rather than as punishment—and when (2) teachers use supportive structures: rehearsal before sharing (turn-and-talk), specific and actionable feedback, clear scaffolding of complex concepts, and treating wrong answers as opportunities for growth rather than labels of who is “smart” or “dumb.” (Keyes, 2019). Together, these strategies draw in students who might otherwise hold back—socially, emotionally, and academically.
Classroom strategies — a dual purpose
Have a look at these common high-impact strategies for budding knowledge and see how—when done correctly—they also create a sense of academic belonging:
Strategy |
What is it? |
How it connects to belonging |
| Spaced retrieval | Short, low-stakes questions on prior learning, spaced over time (no peeking). | Early wins and visible progress show “I can do this here.” Thinking hard to retrieve is valued over ‘the right answer’. |
| Hands-down questioning (Question → pause → name) | Ask, wait 3–5 seconds, then invite a student by name. | Protected think time; wider participation beyond the quickest hands. |
| Oracy (talk partners) | Structured partner talk with sentence stems and rotating roles. | Every voice rehearsed, heard and valued; confidence and precision to share ideas increases. |
Checking all for understanding |
Mini-whiteboards, exit tickets, “show me” checks—then adjust teaching. | Everyone’s thinking counts; mistakes become next steps, not labels. My teacher is paying attention to my progress. |
Make them routine
Belonging grows when school feels reliable: steady relationships, clear expectations, visible support, fair access. That happens when our best strategies run as predictable routines. Predictability lowers anxiety, frees working memory and signals a way in… every lesson.
Let’s take a popular strategy like the Do Now — a 2–3 minute starter students begin immediately on entry. Four quick steps:
- On screen before entry: three retrieval questions (last lesson / last week / last month).→ students walk in knowing what’s expected. The clarity signals: “There’s a place for me here.”
- Students get straight to work: 2 minutes of quiet thinking and recording answers.→ Everyone has something they can attempt. Early wins show: “I can do this.”
- Teacher scan: circulates, glances at responses, offers a quick prompt or encouragement, and notes who might need support.→ The teacher is paying attention; my thinking matters.
- Whole-class spotlight: share one item together; mistakes are treated as part of the process.→ Errors aren’t labels; they’re part of learning. Students feel safe to take risks.
Same time, same steps, every day: the routine creates early wins and builds academic belonging.
Leaders set the tone
When a school leader models real attention—and builds systems so every adult does the same—students sense they matter. In the lesson, they run a simple test: Can I see what “good” looks like? Do I have a fair shot at producing it here? Is someone paying attention to my thinking? Good design lets them answer yes, yes, and yes.
So leaders, If belonging is an initiative in your school, make sure the strategies you model in professional development build belonging socially and academically. It’s not either/or — both matter.
Further Reading
- Keyes, T. S. (2019). Factors that promote classroom belonging and engagement among high school students. School Community Journal, 29(1), 171–200. (Student interviews highlighting the importance of trust, supportive participation, and error-as-learning.) Link
- Lawrie, S. I., Carter, D., et al. (2025). A tale of two belongings: Social and academic belonging differentially shape academic and psychological outcomes among university students. Frontiers in Psychology. Link
- Walton, G. M., & Cohen, G. L. (2007). A question of belonging: Race, social fit, and achievement. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 92(1), 82–96. Link
- Whitman, G. (2024). Setting the Conditions for Learning: Why Belonging and Great Teaching Always Matter. Center for Transformative Teaching & Learning. Link
Why schools need to address anti-LGBT bullying
Written by Eleanor Formby
Eleanor Formby (she/her) is Professor of Sociology and Youth Studies at Sheffield Hallam University, UK. She has 25 years’ experience in (predominantly qualitative) social research and evaluation, and for nearly 20 years her work has focussed on the life experiences of LGBT+ people. Eleanor has written numerous articles in these areas and is the author of Exploring LGBT spaces and communities.
Next month will see Anti-Bullying Week (November 10-14), and Sheffield Hallam University research highlights that lesbian, gay, bisexual and trans (LGBT) young people are still at risk of being bullied at school.
The study is the largest of its kind ever conducted in England, with over 61,000 pupils and staff from 853 schools taking part. It focused specifically on homophobic, biphobic and transphobic (HBT) bullying—i.e. that directed at people because of their actual or assumed sexual or gender identity—and on LGBT inclusion in schools.
It’s often assumed that ‘progress’—thinking particularly about LGBT rights—is a steady march forward, and to be fair, the past 25 years have seen significant changes for LGBT people in the UK. In 2015, the UK was ranked number one on the ILGA-Europe rainbow map, which rates 49 European countries on the basis of laws and policies that directly impact on LGBT people’s human rights. Around the same time, the UK government invested over £6 million in efforts to prevent and respond to HBT bullying in schools, which included our research. The year our research finished, the Government announced that relationships and sex education (RSE) would become compulsory in English secondary schools—and that it should include LGBT content. For a while, there was reason to feel cautiously optimistic.
But things began to change.
Despite commissioning our research, the Conservative government delayed releasing the findings for five years—an unprecedented move. The study was only published after a change in government.
During this period, rhetoric from the government became increasingly hostile, particularly towards trans people. In April 2025, a high-profile supreme court ruling on gender was followed by a controversial ‘interim update’ from the Equality and Human Rights Commission. In the 2025 ILGA-Europe rainbow map the UK dropped to 22nd place—we’re now the second worst country for LGBT-related laws in Western Europe and Scandinavia.
Recently the government has also revised its guidance on RSE, with reduced references to trans people (just once in a subheading). It explicitly states that schools “should not teach as fact that all people have a gender identity”, and “should avoid materials that… encourage pupils to question their gender”. This language echoes Section 28—the infamous law that, until 2003, banned local authorities from “promoting homosexuality” and prevented schools from teaching the “acceptability of homosexuality”.
Against this backdrop, a new book demonstrates that HBT (homophobic, biphobic and transphobic) bullying is still happening—but also that schools can make a difference.
Our findings show that many schools respond to bullying after it happens, rather than trying to prevent it in the first place. In primary schools, efforts often focus on educating children about inappropriate language. Fewer schools are embedding HBT bullying prevention within everyday teaching, or in visible displays in school.
Where LGBT inclusion is happening, it often takes place in assemblies, or sometimes in secondary schools during PSHE (personal, social, health and economic education) lessons, or in ‘drop-down days’ when normal lessons are suspended. In some primary schools, specific books are used.
There are also barriers, for example a lack of time and staff capacity available in schools, and a lack of funding to invest in resources, facilities or training to help do this work well. Some staff don’t feel supported by school leadership. Others worry about complaints from parents or uncertainty about what’s ‘age appropriate’. In the current context, these concerns and associated lack of confidence are likely to grow.
But when schools get it right, there is real impact, for instance LGBT pupils—and those with LGBT family members—feel safer and more understood. Others feel more able to ask questions about issues that confuse or concern them.
This is why it’s so concerning that the UK seems to be moving backwards. Instead of helping schools create more inclusive environments, recent guidance—and arguably the suppression of important research—risk making things worse for LGBT young people, and those with LGBT family members. Teachers are left uncertain about what they’re allowed to say or teach, and pupils may feel more isolated.
It’s difficult to understand why any government would risk children and young people’s wellbeing in this way.
As we prepare to mark Anti-Bullying Week, it’s important to remember that (to borrow from previous policy, seemingly long-forgotten) every child matters—and deserves to feel safe and included, so schools need to address anti-LGBT bullying. To make that a reality, we need to support schools—not leave them uncertain or under-resourced.
Why Intersectionality is the Future of ERGs
Written by Matthew Page
Intersectionality and Identity Consultant | Trustee at The Fostering Network | Transformative Coach | Speaker | Award Winning Lived Care Experienced Leader | Doggie Dad
In today’s dynamic and sometimes challenging landscape, the conversations around diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) have never been more critical. We’re seeing a shift, a recalibration, and in some corners, even a fear of engaging with DEI initiatives. Yet, it’s precisely in this environment that the power of Employee Resource Groups (ERGs) becomes even more pronounced. However, if ERGs are to truly thrive and deliver on their promise, they must embrace a crucial concept: intersectionality.
For too long, ERGs have often operated in silos. We have a Women’s ERG, a BAME (Black, Asian, and Minority Ethnic) ERG, an LGBTQ+ ERG, a Disability ERG, and so forth. Each group does incredibly important work within its specific remit, advocating for its members and fostering a sense of community. But imagine the amplified impact if these groups, rather than standing alone, could discover their shared struggles and collective strengths.
This is where intersectionality isn’t just a buzzword; it’s the glue. It’s the understanding that individuals hold multiple identities that intersect and overlap, creating unique experiences of both privilege and disadvantage. The term was originally coined by American legal scholar Kimberlé Crenshaw in 1989. She used it to highlight the “double discrimination” faced by Black women, who often experienced both racism and sexism but found that the legal system at the time couldn’t address the combined effects of the two.
My work is all about introducing people to this basic, yet profoundly powerful, principle. I help ERGs recognise that while their specific focus is vital, there are countless threads that connect them. When a Women’s ERG and a BAME ERG realise they are both fighting for equitable pay, or when a Disability ERG and an LGBTQ+ ERG discover shared ground in advocating for inclusive language, that’s when the magic happens.
Pulling various ERGs together through the power of intersectionality is something I’m seeing time and time again, and it’s truly powerful in the current climate. We should all be working and fighting the cause in a much more united way, shouldn’t we? This collective approach not only strengthens the impact of each individual ERG but also fosters a more inclusive and understanding workplace culture for everyone. It moves us beyond a ‘them and us’ mentality towards a ‘we’ that is far more resilient and effective.
My journey to understanding the profound importance of identity and belonging began in a very personal way. Growing up in foster care, I had no real sense of my own identity. I was told my father, whom I had never met, was from Jamaica, which was the extent of my knowledge about my roots. It wasn’t until I took part in the TV show DNA Family Secrets that my world truly opened up. The show discovered that my family actually originated from the Seychelles – a revelation that completely shifted my understanding of who I am and where I come from. This personal experience of uncovering my intersecting identities, and the sense of belonging it brought, deeply informs my passion for helping others find theirs within organisations.
I have the privilege of working with fantastic organisations like NatWest, Transport for London, and the British Transport Police, guiding their ERGs through this journey. We explore how to break down those silos, build bridges between groups, and harness the collective power of their diverse members. The results are not just theoretical; they are tangible shifts towards more unified advocacy, greater mutual support, and a more robust, future-proof approach to DEI.
Intersectionality isn’t just the future of ERGs; it’s the pathway to a more inclusive, empathetic, and ultimately, a more effective workplace for all. Let’s unite, understand, and empower one another.
Rethinking Normality in Uncertain Times
Written by Rachida Dahman
Rachida Dahman is an international educator, a language and literature teacher, and an educational innovator. She started her career in Germany as a teacher trainer advocating the importance of relationships above academics. She then moved to Luxembourg where she teaches German language and literature classes to middle and high school students. She is an award-winning poet, co-author of the best-selling book, ATLAS DER ENTSCHEIDER Entscheiden wie die Profis- Dynamik, Komplexität und Stress meistern.
In the unique context of international schools, where educators and students navigate diverse cultures, languages, and constantly shifting global realities, the idea of “normality” becomes especially complex and fluid. Normality is a cultural construct, constantly reinforced by politics, media, and rituals, not a natural state that we are pulled out of and then simply fall back into once circumstances allow. I was recently asked how, in the midst of today’s wars and crises, one can possibly “restore normality” and how teachers, who are confronted with this longing for stability every day, can take such a demand seriously.
What we call normality in everyday life and leisure is itself an artifact. Politics, talk shows, and public rituals generate their own images of normality. Here lies the danger of what might be called a ”normalization conservatism”: a desire to return to an imagined state of stability. Yet normality cannot be simply retrieved. It is manufactured with all the means of artifice.
And so the real problem shifts. The issue is not the absence of normality, but the attempt to reproduce it artificially. This attempt is carried by a strange mixture of fear and arrogance: fear of the unpredictability of the present and arrogance in believing that politics, media, or public speech could create a truly stable foundation. The result is an echo of rituals, slogans, and symbols that produce the appearance of security, without offering real orientation.
What often goes unnoticed is that tensions persist even beneath these efforts. In education, for example, teachers may feel the impulse to fit students into neat frameworks, an attempt to create order and stability. But such frameworks can quickly become another burden of responsibility, placing conformity above growth. If we give in to this impulse too often, we risk reaching a dead end, both our own creativity and that of our students may be abruptly set aside when the next societal or political storm arrives.
Normality, then, is not a return but always a creation. It does not emerge from artifacts, from the decorative gestures of politics, or from the ritualized dramaturgy of talk shows. It arises in the concrete ways we speak with one another, work together, and share responsibility. As a teacher, this means I cannot give my students normality. But I can create spaces where openness, uncertainty, and incompleteness have a place. Precisely because we are sometimes surrounded by fear and arrogance, we must learn that normality does not grow out of incantation, it grows out of practice.
- Specific classroom strategies that create space for uncertainty, agency, or open-ended outcomes.
The royal road to practice lies in learning to hold uncertainties, to walk through them with students, and to live them rather than escape them. This requires a healthy rhythm between individual and group work, staying with themes long enough for them to unfold, and deliberately extending the passages of our interactions. Such practices are not simply pedagogical choices, they are acts of resilience.
Again and again, students emerge in our classrooms who appear to falter, whose productivity declines, or who withdraw across different subjects. Dominant opinion often interprets this as laziness, distraction, or failure. Yet what if such moments are signals, pointing to something deeper, a crisis of orientation, a struggle with culture, or an unresolved question of identity? Many students’ identities are inseparable from their artistic identity. The way they make sense of the world is through creative exploration, improvisation, or resistance to rigid forms. To dismiss their “lostness” is to miss the chance to witness identity in the making.
This is especially visible in international classrooms, where cultural displacement and multilingual realities amplify the experience of being “lost.” Students navigate between home and host cultures, between different languages, and between competing expectations of success. Their sense of orientation may collapse under these pressures. But often, it is precisely in their artistic or non-linear responses in music, storytelling, visual projects, or collaborative improvisation that they begin to negotiate belonging and articulate identity. Teachers who recognize this see disengagement not as absence, but as the raw material of presence.
Practical strategies for teachers and school leaders:
- Invite multiple modes of response. Allow students to express their understanding not only in writing or tests, but through drawing, movement, dialogue, or digital creation.
- Stay with the “lost” moment. Instead of rushing to correct or redirect, ask reflective questions: What feels unclear? How does this connect to your experience? This validates disorientation as part of learning.
- Normalize cultural reflection. When productivity drops, explore whether it relates to questions of belonging or cultural dissonance. Invite students to connect class themes with their lived realities.
- Value artistic identities. Encourage students who process through music, art, or performance to bring those forms into academic spaces. In doing so, schools acknowledge that intellectual and artistic identities are often inseparable.
- Hold open-ended outcomes. Frame tasks where the goal is not a single right answer, but exploration and meaning-making. This helps students see “lostness” as an entry point into dialogue, not as failure.
For we and our students are no longer confronted merely with crises but, in some cases, with their full collapse, coming at us in ever shorter intervals. This is why education cannot content itself with rituals of stability or the repetition of normality. To face collapse together means cultivating classrooms where uncertainty is not feared but explored, where trust outweighs control, and where collaboration becomes stronger than competition. Schools that dare to do this resist the conspiracy of appearances make visible a different kind of strength: not the fragile stability of order imposed, but the durable stability that grows when responsibility is shared, when openness is lived, and when the courage to learn is greater than the fear of loss.
2. Examples of school policies or leadership decisions that actively disrupt traditional norms in service of deeper collaboration and equity.
School leaders must learn to operate in settings that are far from a neatly swept house. Crises bring with them heightened psychological reactions, and when class sizes are too large, these reactions are often funneled into a vacuum, where learning, creativity, and engagement wither. Smaller classes are therefore a crucial condition for sustaining real interaction and meaningful reflection.
In such an environment, leaders do not impose superficial order; they cultivate spaces where uncertainty can be navigated, where students’ emotional and cognitive responses are recognized, and where teachers and leaders alike learn to stay with complexity rather than erase it. It is precisely this tension between unpredictability and deliberate guidance that allows classrooms and schools to become laboratories for resilience, collaboration, and shared responsibility.
3. Illustrations of how collaboration with other schools or nontraditional partners have tangibly reshaped practice, mindset, or outcomes.
Partnering with neighboring schools to exchange teaching resources, working with local NGOs or universities to ground projects in real-world issues, and engaging with artists, entrepreneurs, or community leaders can dramatically expand what counts as educational expertise. But these partnerships are not only about content or skill-sharing: they are spaces to gather experience, to encounter moments where emotions surface, and to practice navigating uncertainty together.
In the face of unprecedented crises that often bring destruction and disorder, such collaborations create rare opportunities to learn resilience, empathy, and adaptive problem-solving. By intentionally engaging in these exchanges, educators and students alike confront challenges that cannot be fully simulated in traditional classrooms. They experience firsthand how to act, respond, and reflect when circumstances are unpredictable, complex, and emotionally charged.
4. Practical alternatives to standard rituals, such as how grading might be approached differently, or how assemblies can be reimagined to reflect openness and inclusivity.
Many teachers experience a chill down their spine when so-called assemblies run like clockwork, sanitized and rigid, and disconnected from the lived realities of students. This subversive view of rituals challenges the assumption that standard assemblies and classroom routines are neutral or harmless. In fact, such rituals can produce psychological strain, particularly when they clash with students’ attention spans, motivation, or digital habits. Traditional timetables and fixed hours are not merely organizational tools, they are deeply pedagogical structures; if they do not fit the learners, the potential for growth collapses.
In response, assessment and classroom practices must be reimagined. Exams and grading are no longer merely measures of performance, but opportunities to engage students in democratic processes, critical reflection, and the creation of meaning. Flexible, collaborative settings allow learners to grapple with texts, ideas, and questions in ways that cultivate agency and resilience. Assemblies, too, can be transformed into forums where students and staff co-construct agendas, share inquiries, and participate in discussions that matter, fostering inclusion and shared responsibility.
Importantly, this approach integrates the realities of crises overload, digital distractions, and emotional stress directly into the design of teaching and ritual. By doing so, schools create spaces that do not simply simulate “normality,” but actively cultivate engagement, critical thinking, and emotional competence, even amidst disruption.
I have come to see that what often presents itself as normality is a kind of conspiracy: a fragile arrangement of fear and arrogance that pretends to provide stability while suppressing creativity, trust, and resilience. Observing how leadership constrained by competition and territoriality can limit possibilities, I realized that ideas flourish only when shared openly. This insight became a compass; true leadership requires courage, openness, and collaboration beyond conventional boundaries. In practice, this means designing lessons with open-ended outcomes, rethinking rituals like grading and assemblies, giving students real agency, and creating spaces for reflection and shared responsibility. Normality is not a return to order it is a creation, emerging from daily practices of trust, courage, and collaboration. And so the question is: in times of crisis, do we cling to artificial rituals of stability, or do we dare to create spaces where something genuinely new can emerge?
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?