What Makes People Stay Working in a School?
Written by Hannah Wilson
Founder and Director of the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators).
Schools are more than buildings where learning happens. They are communities shaped by the people who work within them. While recruitment is vital, the real measure of a successful school is not just who it attracts – but who it keeps. People stay in schools where they feel valued, supported, developed, and able to belong as their whole selves.
Creating this kind of environment requires intentional action across recruitment, development, and retention, underpinned by a commitment to diversity, inclusion, equity, and a genuine culture of belonging.
Recruitment: Attracting People Who Can Thrive
Recruitment is often the first experience someone has of a school’s culture. It sends a powerful message about who is welcome and who belongs.
Inclusive recruitment starts with equitable processes. Job descriptions that focus on essential skills rather than narrow experiences, transparent pay structures, and flexible working options all help to widen the pool of applicants. When schools actively challenge bias in recruitment – through diverse interview panels, structured questioning, and clear criteria – they create fairer opportunities and stronger teams.
Representation also matters. A diverse workforce brings broader perspectives, lived experiences, and role models for pupils. Schools that value diversity are clear about it in their recruitment messaging, policies, and practice – not as a tick-box exercise, but as a strength that enriches learning and working life for everyone.
Crucially, recruitment should be about values alignment, not conforming to fit in. People are more likely to stay when they are hired for who they are and what they bring, not for how closely they match a preconceived mould.
Development: Investing in People, Not Just Roles
People stay in schools where they can grow. Professional development is not simply about compliance or career progression – it is about feeling invested in and trusted.
High-quality development opportunities should be accessible and equitable. This means ensuring that part-time staff, support staff, early career colleagues, and those from underrepresented groups all have access to meaningful training, mentoring, and leadership pathways. When development is uneven, so too is retention.
An inclusive approach to development recognises that people learn and progress differently. Coaching, peer collaboration, reflective practice, and flexible CPD pathways allow individuals to build confidence and capability in ways that suit their needs and aspirations.
Development also includes emotional and professional support. Schools are demanding environments, and staff wellbeing matters. Leaders who prioritise workload management, psychological safety, and open communication create spaces where people feel able to ask questions, make mistakes, and learn – key ingredients for long-term commitment.
Retention: Creating Reasons to Stay
Retention is not achieved through loyalty alone; it is earned through daily experiences.
People stay in schools where they feel respected and heard. Inclusive workplaces actively seek staff voice, involve colleagues in decision-making, and respond thoughtfully to feedback. When people believe their perspectives matter, they are more likely to remain engaged and committed.
Equitable processes play a critical role in retention. Fair appraisal systems, transparent progression routes, and consistent approaches to performance management build trust. When staff see fairness in how decisions are made – about opportunities, recognition, or challenge – they are more likely to feel secure and valued.
Belonging is perhaps the most powerful factor of all. A culture of belonging goes beyond diversity policies; it is felt in everyday interactions. It shows up in how meetings are run, how differences are respected, how conflict is handled, and how success is celebrated. Belonging means people do not feel they have to hide parts of themselves to succeed.
Leadership and Culture: The Thread That Connects It All
Leadership is the golden thread running through recruitment, development, and retention. Inclusive leadership is intentional, reflective, and values-driven. It recognises power, challenges inequity, and models behaviours that others can trust.
Leaders set the tone for whether a school is a place people endure or a place they choose to stay. When leaders demonstrate empathy, fairness, and accountability, they help create a culture where people feel safe, motivated, and proud to work.
Importantly, inclusion and belonging are not static goals. They require ongoing learning, honest conversations, and a willingness to adapt. Schools that embrace this journey openly send a clear message: everyone matters here.
A School People Want to Stay In
People stay working in schools where they feel connected to purpose, supported in practice, and recognised as individuals. When recruitment is inclusive, development is equitable, and retention is driven by belonging, schools become places where staff can flourish – professionally and personally.
In building diverse teams, inclusive workplaces, and fair systems, schools do more than retain staff. They create communities that reflect the values they aim to instil in their pupils: respect, opportunity, and belonging for all.
Creating Psychological Safety in Schools: Building Trust for Pupils, Staff, and Parents
Written by Hannah Wilson
Founder and Director of the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators).
In a world that is constantly changing, schools are being asked to do more than ever before. They are not just places of learning, but communities where young people grow, adults work, and families connect. Yet one essential ingredient often gets overlooked: psychological safety – the sense that it is safe to speak up, make mistakes, ask questions, and be yourself without fear of ridicule or punishment.
Coined by Harvard researcher Amy Edmondson, the term “psychological safety” refers to an environment where people feel respected, included, and confident that their voices matter. While the concept emerged from studies of workplace teams, its relevance to education is profound. Schools that nurture psychological safety for pupils, staff, and parents create the conditions for deeper learning, stronger relationships, and healthier wellbeing across the community.
Psychological Safety for Pupils: A Foundation for Learning
For pupils, learning inherently involves risk – the risk of being wrong, of not understanding, of standing out. When students feel unsafe to fail or to speak up, they disengage, hide their struggles, or act out. When they feel safe, they take intellectual risks, collaborate, and grow.
How schools can build it:
- Normalise mistakes as part of learning: Teachers who model vulnerability (“I don’t know the answer – let’s find out together”) show that uncertainty is not weakness, but curiosity in action.
- Encourage voice and choice: Giving pupils real opportunities to influence classroom norms, projects, or school decisions signals respect for their perspective.
- Respond to behaviour with empathy: Instead of “What’s wrong with you?”, try “What’s happened for you?”. Trauma-informed approaches remind students that they are seen and supported, not judged.
- Celebrate diverse identities and stories: Representation in curriculum, displays, and classroom discussions communicates that every background and identity belongs.
When pupils feel safe, they do not just learn better – they thrive. They are more resilient, more engaged, and more able to take the healthy risks that learning demands.
Psychological Safety for Staff: The Heart of a Healthy School Culture
Teachers and school staff are the emotional climate-makers of a school. Yet education can be high-pressure, high-stakes, and emotionally demanding. When staff feel psychologically unsafe – afraid to admit mistakes, speak up about workload, or try new approaches – creativity and wellbeing suffer.
Building safety for staff means:
- Leadership that listens: School leaders set the tone by asking for honest feedback and responding constructively. Phrases like “What do you need?” or “What would make this better for you?” open doors.
- Permission to be human: Staff who can talk openly about stress, uncertainty, or failure model the same authenticity we want for students.
- Collaborative problem-solving: Rather than top-down directives, invite co-creation. Involve staff in shaping policies, curriculum, and wellbeing initiatives.
- Psychological safety in meetings: Encourage questions and divergent views without fear of reprisal. Recognise contributions and credit effort, not just outcomes.
A psychologically safe staff culture fuels innovation, trust, and retention. As one teacher put it: “When I know I am trusted, that I can speak honestly and still be respected, I do my best work.”
Psychological Safety for Parents and Carers: Strengthening the School-Home Partnership
Parents and carers are essential partners in children’s education. But they too need to feel that they can approach the school without fear of judgment or dismissal. When parents feel psychologically unsafe – worried they will be labelled as “difficult” or “uninvolved” – communication breaks down, and pupils lose out.
Ways to build parental safety:
- Welcome curiosity, not compliance: Encourage questions and conversations rather than expecting silent agreement.
- Make communication two-way: Use surveys, listening sessions, or informal coffee mornings where parents can speak freely.
- Acknowledge emotions: School issues can trigger strong feelings – about fairness, inclusion, or a child’s needs. A calm, empathic response goes a long way: “I can see this matters to you; let’s explore it together.”
- Be transparent: Clear explanations of decisions, policies, and next steps reduce uncertainty and build trust.
When parents feel valued as partners rather than judged as outsiders, collaboration deepens – and the child benefits most.
Practical Strategies for a Whole-School Approach
Creating psychological safety isn’t a one-off initiative – it is a cultural commitment. Here are some practical steps schools can take to embed it across the community:
- Set shared values and norms: Make “respect”, “listening”, and “learning from mistakes” explicit cultural pillars.
- Model it from the top: Leaders who admit their own learning moments signal that vulnerability is safe.
- Train for empathy and communication: Provide staff development on trauma-informed practice, restorative conversations, and active listening.
- Measure what matters: Use anonymous surveys or student voice groups to gauge how safe people feel – and act on the findings.
- Create visible reminders: Displays or messages around the school that celebrate kindness, courage, and belonging reinforce the norm.
The Payoff: Belonging, Growth, and Flourishing
When psychological safety is strong, schools transform. Pupils engage more deeply. Staff collaborate more freely. Parents and carers trust more fully. Challenges still arise – but they are faced with honesty and compassion, not fear or blame.
At its heart, psychological safety is about human connection. It is about creating the kind of school where everyone – whether they are five or fifty – feels that they matter, that their voice counts, and that they can grow without fear.
As one headteacher put it:
“We can’t expect children to take learning risks if the adults around them aren’t allowed to take emotional ones.”
So let’s build schools, colleges and trusts where everyone can speak up, be heard, and belong. Creating psychological safety is not a luxury – it is the foundation of a thriving school. When we get it right – for pupils, staff, and parents/ carers – trust, wellbeing and learning all manifest and become embedded in the culture.
ASPIRE: Creating a culture where everyone can flourish
Written by Michele Deeks
Michele Deeks is a psychologist whose passion is helping people to be at their best more of the time. She is a Director of Work Positive and co-creator of the At My Best product range.
There seems to be an ever-growing body of evidence suggesting that our education system simply isn’t working for many teachers or learners. From the All-Party Parliamentary Group for Education’s inquiry into the Loss of Love of Learning, through to reports showing unprecedented levels of staff stress and burnout, the challenges seem to be numerous.
It can be hard to know how to even begin to make things better. Something we can all influence, however, is the culture in our classrooms and institutions. Dr Sue Roffey, a psychologist and academic with extensive expertise in whole school wellbeing, has developed the ASPIRE model for flourishing cultures. The six principles in this model stimulate both discussion and action on what we can do day-to-day to enable everyone to be at their best.
In this video Sue talks to me about the ASPIRE model and its potential to transform staff and pupils’ experience of education.
https://vimeo.com/1140772098?fl=ip&fe=ec
ASPIRE is an acronym for Agency, Safety, Positivity, Inclusion, Respect and Equity. It is a model of culture that draws inspiration from developmental and child psychology, positive psychology and neuroscience as well as extensive education research and Dr Roffey’s own experience and practice in schools across the world.
So what does each principle look and feel like in practice?
Agency
Agency is about empowerment. Agency in the classroom is evident where every pupil recognises they have a voice and a choice. Where learners are active agents in their learning, where they are involved in shaping what happens in their classroom, recognising not only how they can influence their own experiences, but how they can positively impact their peers and teachers too.
Safety
A safe educational setting keeps everyone safe from physical harm and mental distress, but it goes beyond that – in a safe environment everyone is accepted for themselves; everyone feels able to make contributions and take risks without fearing punishment, blame or humiliation.
Positivity
A strong sense of positivity in the classroom isn’t about ignoring what’s wrong or being unrealistic about what’s possible, but about shifting the focus to what’s working well. It’s about creating a culture that values and encourages a positive mindset, positive emotions, strengths-based language and solution-focused actions. It is also about having fun together.
Inclusion
An inclusive environment is one that demonstrates appreciation of diversity in a way that encourages behaviours and practices that increase everyone’s sense of belonging. Inclusivity means celebrating each person’s unique place in the world and valuing our shared humanity. It is about ensuring that everyone feels they matter and can contribute.
Respect
Treating others in the way they prefer to be treated sits at the heart of the principle of respect. Where respect is embedded in an educational setting it’s evident the whole person is valued, hierarchical privilege is minimised and there’s thoughtful consideration for differences in perspectives, contexts, feelings and needs.
Equity
Strong themes of fairness and flexibility are evident in environments that prioritise equity, with a recognition and understanding that one size does not fit all. Different accommodations are made for different students and staff to enable everyone to achieve optimal levels of contribution and outcome.
Each of the six principles brings something different to a culture. It is challenging for staff and students to flourish when any are missing. The principles also interact, overlap and affirm each other with individual behaviours, routines and habits sometimes being indicative of several.
So how can we embed ASPIRE in practice? Dr Roffey argues that culture isn’t something that can be imposed – it’s a shared responsibility. It’s something that everyone within an education setting influences on a daily basis. Culture is made up of our daily behaviours and practices. If we’re looking to change ‘how we do things around here’ we need to work out what we need to be doing differently and what perhaps needs more emphasis. There is no particular principle of ASPIRE that you need to start with. Instead, it’s about starting where it makes sense in your setting, working collaboratively to explore what’s working well and identifying clear, tangible actions that you can take to make sure your culture is one where everyone can flourish.
Watch the webinar (46 mins) to hear Dr Roffey explain the background to the ASPIRE model and the newly launched ASPIRE Culture Cards.
Sanctuaries of Inclusion & Incubators of Innovation!
Written by Laura McPhee
Laura McPhee is Director of Education at University Schools Trust. Prior to this, Laura was an experienced headteacher. She has a proven track record of leading transformational change management and successful school improvement journeys across London. Laura is a facilitator for the National Professional Qualification facilitator for Headship (NPQH) and a School Improvement consultant. She holds a number of trustee positions and enjoys guest lecturing for ITT courses. She is the author of 'Empowering Teachers, Improving Schools: Belonging, Psychological Safety & School Improvement' and a co-author of 'Tackling Poverty and Disadvantage in Schools.'
I’m sitting at the back of the teacher training induction session, pretending to read the welcome pack, when a large imposing figure appears at the front. He thanks us all for coming and quickly moves on to a lengthy monologue, warning us of the perils that lie ahead. He informs us in no uncertain terms, that training to be a teacher will be the most challenging thing we’ll ever have to do.
‘Hmmm. Doubt that. I’ve beaten cancer twice,’ says a jolly voice next to me, beaming.
I’ve been hiding in the back row with the other ‘mature’ students – who, as it turns out, are not so mature after all. The beaming voice is Kate, who like me, has a healthy disregard for rules. We become fast friends and slope off for coffee.
But the introductory ‘talk’, with hints of a dark reckoning, is still ringing in my ear. I thought this was the beginning of a new adventure, so why did it already feel like a zero-sum game?
I was yet to realise that the well-meaning individual, terrifying us all into submission that day, was in fact preparing us for the high stakes career that lay ahead.
As educators, we champion accountability. But accountability in the absence of psychological safety, can stifle innovation, limit progress and encourage poor behaviours.
I was lucky. I was a quick learner and, for the most part I was surrounded by exceptional teams and leaders who were extraordinarily generous with their expertise and professional support. But that hasn’t always been the case.
The evidence base suggests I’m not alone.
I would bet my mortgage that you, or someone you know, has at one time or another been worried about expressing their opinion at work for fear of reprisal. Perhaps you’ve thought twice about sharing a concern or idea? Or were afraid to ask a question? Maybe you’ve faced unfair criticism, chastisement or social exclusion.
Perhaps you’ve had to battle systemic barriers in the workplace?
The sector at large has been impacted. In a profession that is high stakes, a lack of psychological safety has, at times, resulted in exclusionary practice. This is amplified when weak education policy creates perverse incentives. For example, through ‘off – rolling’ or exclusionary practice around admissions.
We’re also seeing a direct correlation between staff engagement and pupil engagement. Unsurprisingly, when staff feel trusted, purposeful and supported. So do pupils.
However, research shows that our sense of belonging isn’t evenly distributed, with disadvantaged pupils and Black pupils reporting significantly lower levels of inclusivity. (Jerrim, 2025).
There’s much debate across the sector about what it means to belong, yet too often a crucial part of the conversation is overlooked. Psychological safety is the missing part of the puzzle for many pupils, parents and educators.
Professor of leadership and management, Amy Edmonson describes psychological safety as the ability to share concerns, ask questions and provide supportive challenge, without fear of reprisal.
Let’s be clear, this is a well-researched field, with a robust evidence base that points to the benefits of psychological safety across industries.
Research shows that organisations with the highest levels of psychological safety are more resilient and innovative. They perform better than others.
When we remember we’re people first, professionals second; we can connect the dots. Higher levels of psychological safety positively impact staff retention and productivity.
Remarkably, there’s very little information for school leaders about how to practically apply the principles of psychological safety. And yet, there has never been a more urgent need to consider the psychological safety and belonging for staff and pupils.
Hence my research in this area was borne out of personal and professional frustration…
Whilst cross-referencing the evidence base, with qualitative data from schools and universities nationally that have strong cultures, recurring themes began to emerge. This took the form of 10 pillars, or areas of school strategy that we want to ensure are underpinned by psychological safety to foster inclusivity:
- Leading with purpose
- Creating a culture of belonging
- Cognitive diversity
- Learning from failure
- Professional Development
- Coaching and Mentoring
- Distributed leadership
- Flexible working
- Innovation
- Place-based support for the community.
I’ll be using this blog to explore these 10 pillars; sharing research, evidence informed practice and case studies that exemplify psychological safety in schools for staff, pupils and the wider school community.
Frameworks for implementation:
Typically practitioners engaged in developing psychologically safe environments are signposted to Dr. Timothy Clark’s, 4 stages of psychological safety:
- Stage 1 – INCLUSION SAFETY: feels included and part of a team
- Stage 2 – LEARNER SAFETY: safe to learn and ask questions
- Stage 3 – CONTRIBUTOR SAFETY: safe to contribute and share ideas
- Stage 4 – CHALLENGER SAFETY: safe to contribute and challenge the status quo
Whilst this model prompts some useful thinking, it’s not without its challenges. We know from our own experience that progress is rarely linear! However, we could be forgiven for interpreting this framework as though we should be smoothly transitioning from one stage to the next. In reality there may be very good reasons why teams or individuals stall or need to revisit key principles to deepen their understanding. Of course, it’s also quite possible for team members to be moving at a different pace.
We know that too often underrepresented groups are required to carry out their roles in workplaces that are not inclusive or reflect the systemic barriers that exist in wider society. Yet these colleagues still need to move beyond stage 1 to find agency and autonomy.
For this reason, many practitioners have embraced Amy Edmonson’s 4 Domains of Psychological Safety as outlined in ‘The Fearless Organization Scan’:
- Attitude to failure and risk
- Inclusion and diversity
- Open conversation
- Willingness to help
This model reminds us to keep all four domains in mind when cultivating psychological safety. We can see how these domains are intrinsically linked and interdependent.
What might success look like if we’re brave enough to hold ‘open conversation’ and become ‘willing to help’? How can this approach drive more impactful solutions and tangible outcomes when it comes to inclusion?
Furthermore, we know that when it comes to psychological safety, the work is never done. Rather it is constantly evolving. It’s dynamic and shifts based on each new interaction and or shared experience…
“Psychological safety creates sanctuaries of inclusion and incubators of innovation.”
Dr. Timothy Clark
When 'Belonging' Replaces 'Equity': The Silence of White Male Educators
Written by Hannah Wilson
Founder and Director of the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators).
Across schools, colleges and trusts, a quiet linguistic shift has taken root. Many white male educators – often in leadership roles, often well-meaning – are talking less about diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) and more about belonging. At first, it sounds like progress. Who could possibly argue with belonging? It’s warm, inclusive, even healing.
But beneath that linguistic comfort lies something more complicated. When white male educators embrace “belonging” while sidestepping conversations about diversity, equity and inclusion, they risk participating in a subtle but powerful form of avoidance – one that centres comfort over accountability, and cohesion over justice.
The Appeal of ‘Belonging’
There’s no denying the emotional resonance of belonging. Everyone wants to feel seen, valued, and part of a community. The word signals care and connection – qualities deeply needed in our schools.
Yet belonging, in its current popular use, carries a kind of neutrality that makes it especially attractive to those uncomfortable with conversations about race, power, and privilege. It sounds universal and non-political. It doesn’t demand that we ask who has been excluded, whose histories have been erased, or whose comfort is prioritized.
For many white male educators, “belonging” feels like safer ground. It lets them express empathy without stepping into the uneasy territory of systemic inequity. It invites community-building without requiring structural change.
But that safety is precisely the problem.
What Gets Lost When We Skip DEI
Belonging, when untethered from the work of diversity, equity, and inclusion, risks becoming a hollow promise. It shifts the focus from systems to feelings – from justice to comfort.
- Diversity asks: Who is here? Who is missing?
- Equity asks: Who has access to opportunity and resources? Who are the gatekeepers?
- Inclusion asks: Whose voices shape our culture and decisions? Who is being silenced?
- Belonging, in its best form, should ask: How do we ensure everyone feels valued within equitable systems?
But too often, belonging is invoked instead of those questions, not because of them. It becomes a way to soothe rather than to solve – a way to look caring without confronting the root causes of exclusion.
In that sense, “belonging” can function as the linguistic comfort food of educational leadership: it fills us up emotionally but leaves the deeper hunger for justice untouched. In other words, it is a plaster on a problem, the problem just becomes hidden.
The Silence of Power
Language choices are never neutral, especially when made by those in positions of authority. White male educators still hold disproportionate power in most educational spaces – whether as principals, governors, professors, or thought leaders. Their voices shape what counts as acceptable discourse.
When those voices go quiet around diversity, equity, and inclusion, the silence speaks volumes. It signals to colleagues and students that DEI is passé, divisive, or optional. It allows institutions to drift away from equity work under the comforting banner of belonging.
And when belonging becomes the new vocabulary of leadership, it risks recentring white male experience – transforming a call for justice into a call for harmony, where discomfort is avoided rather than embraced as part of growth.
This silence doesn’t just maintain the status quo; it legitimises it. It says, “We care, but not enough to change.”
The Cost of Comfort
The consequences of this linguistic shift are real.
- DEI initiatives lose funding or visibility because “we’re focusing on belonging now.”
- Educators of colour are asked to “bring everyone together” instead of naming inequity.
- Students from marginalised backgrounds hear that they “belong,” but still experience microaggressions, biased pedagogy, and uneven discipline.
The rhetoric of belonging, when detached from diversity and equity, offers inclusion without transformation. It becomes a story we tell ourselves about progress, even as the systems of inequity remain intact.
True belonging is not created through slogans, surveys, or drop down days. It grows when power is redistributed, voices long ignored are amplified, and systems are redesigned to ensure fairness. Without that foundation, belonging is little more than an emotional gloss over structural inequity (or some pretty icing on some stale cake).
A Call Back to Courage
None of this is to say that belonging doesn’t matter. It matters deeply. But belonging must be built on top of equity, not in place of it.
White male educators, in particular, have a responsibility to stay in the discomfort – to speak not just about togetherness, but about justice. Silence is not neutrality; it is complicity. And shifting the language without shifting the practice is not progress – it’s retreat.
Belonging that is worth having will always be born from honesty, from the willingness to look directly at inequity and to act against it. It requires courage, humility, and a refusal to choose comfort over truth.
A Final Thought
If we are serious about belonging, then we must be serious about diversity, equity, and inclusion. Because real belonging does not come from soft language – it comes from hard work.
Belonging without equity is not inclusion.
It’s avoidance dressed as empathy.
The challenge for white male educators – and indeed, for all of us – is to ensure that our words do not outpace our courage.
Thus, we must become more conscious of who we are when we are doing DEIB work, we must be confident we are tackling problems and not causing further harm, we must be competent in navigating each layer of our workplace culture as belonging is only surfaced when diversity, equity and inclusion are established and embedded in the foundations.
Defying Gravity: The Moral and Systemic Corruption of the UK - A Wicked Retrospective
Written by Adrian McLean
Ambassador of Character, Executive Headteacher, TEDx Speaker, BE Associate Trainer & Coach, Governors for Schools Trustee, Positive Disruptor
My family and I were like most people across the country. We had been waiting for the new Wicked film to drop. We booked release day and went in ready for the spectacle. The film delivered what we expected: strong performances, sharp visuals and a story that still hits. But I walked out thinking about something else entirely. Beneath the entertainment sat a message about power, belonging and corruption that felt uncomfortably close to home. That is what pushed me to write this piece.
Wicked lands because it shows how fear, pressure and status can twist people who start with decent intentions. You watch two leaders take different paths, both shaped by the same system that rewards silence and punishes dissent. That world is fiction, but the pattern matches the UK’s struggle with Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Belonging (DEIB). When a system prizes comfort over justice, virtues start to warp into vices and inequality becomes normal.
The Emerald City and the Illusion of UK Stability
Elphaba is excluded from the start. Her difference becomes a tool for control. The Wizard turns that fear into policy by stripping the animals of their rights. Oz calls itself prosperous, but the shine hides a rotten core.
The UK does the same. The claim of stability masks persistent, recorded inequities. Black Caribbean pupils are still excluded from school at far higher rates than White British pupils, which fuels the Schools to Prison Pipeline. Minority ethnic jobseekers continue to submit far more applications for the same employer interest. Data from the Social Metrics Commission shows Black and minority ethnic people are more than twice as likely to experience relative poverty and face higher exposure to fuel and food insecurity. None of this is new. It is repeated in every major review that looks at structural inequality.
The pattern is simple. Exclusion begins with a label, then becomes a story, then becomes a policy. When a state or organisation frames a group as a threat to stability, belonging becomes conditional and rights become flexible. Oz had the silencing of the animals. We have exclusions, unequal labour market outcomes and cost of living impacts that fall hardest on the same groups every time.
Virtues Turned into Vices
Wicked shows that the Wizard’s regime survives because people with influence let their virtues bend under pressure. They do not wake up intending to harm anyone, they drift into it.
Glinda thrives because she is charming and quick to connect. Her core virtue is affability. She wants harmony, status and approval. Under pressure, this slides into moral silence. She denies Elphaba to keep her place in the system and tells herself that compromise keeps things stable.
The UK has Glindas’ in politics, business and education. These are the institutional centrists who talk about fairness without taking risks that would cost them capital or access. They avoid reforms that would unsettle sponsors, investors or senior colleagues. When DEIB becomes politically inconvenient, they retreat. Their instinct for consensus turns into complacency and the result is stalled progress.
Elphaba’s driving virtue is conviction. She sees injustice and refuses to look away. She fights for the animals when no one else will. Under pressure, this hardens into isolation. She stops listening and her stance becomes so rigid that her allies shrink back. The regime uses that isolation to paint her as the problem.
The UK has Elphabas in social movements, school leadership and community activism. They push equity forward when institutions resist. The risk is that their conviction becomes inflexible. When leaders hold the line alone, they become easy to discredit. They get written off as difficult, extreme or disruptive, even when their claims are evidence backed.
The Wizard builds his authority by shaping the story people live inside. He presents order, progress and unity. Behind the curtain is manipulation and fear. His virtue is charisma coupled with organisational skill. Under pressure, this becomes populism. He manufactures enemies to distract from his failures.
The UK has seen its own operators of conformity. The rise of symbolic politics is one example. The volume of flags, organisational figureheads and public posturing has increased while pay gaps, attainment gaps and poverty rates keep widening. It is easier to demand visible allegiance than to fix structural problems.
A core tactic in this pattern is the creation of a convenient scapegoat. In Wicked, the Wizard convinces the public that Elphaba is responsible for every disruption in Oz. The accuracy of the claim is irrelevant. The story does the work. Parts of UK discourse follow the same script when complex economic pressures are reduced to a simple claim that immigrants are the cause of national strain. This persists even when economic data shows that immigration contributes net labour, tax revenue and essential workforce capacity. The point is not evidence. The point is to give the public a target that keeps attention away from systemic failure. When critics raise equity issues, they are dismissed as divisive or ideological. This mirrors the way the Wizard and Madame Morrible brand Elphaba as wicked to steer attention away from his regime.
Defying the Wizard: finding the mean
Elphaba’s turning point comes when she stops running and confronts the system head-on. She rejects the false choice between silence and isolation. She does not become Glinda. She does not become a fanatic. She chooses the difficult mean between the two.
The UK needs the same shift. Our current system rewards leaders who avoid conflict or leaders who burn out fighting it alone. We need leaders who will act before the next inquiry or crisis forces their hand. That requires policy choices that tackle the structural inequities we keep measuring but rarely fix.
Three moves that will help to shift the system.
- Mandatory and enforced pay transparency
Ethnicity and disability pay gap reporting should match the current gender reporting model with annual publication and mandatory action plans. This exposes the blocks that keep certain groups stuck at the bottom of organisational hierarchies. When data is public, silence becomes harder and accountability becomes real. This cuts off the pattern where affability turns into complacency. - De-biasing the talent pipeline
Hiring and promotion systems need unbiased review at the early stages and consistent scoring frameworks at later stages. Several public bodies and trusts have already piloted these methods with measurable gains in fairness and diversity. The point is not ideology. It is basic organisational integrity. Merit cannot be judged if bias enters the process before talent is seen. This stops conviction from becoming isolated because people no longer have to fight as lone moral actors to access opportunity. - Anchoring belonging in policy
Belonging cannot remain an aspiration or marketing phrase. It needs to sit inside the cost of living strategy, local authority funding decisions and NHS workforce plans. Policies should undergo Equality Impact Assessments (EIA) that account for race, disability, gender and income as a minimum. The data already exists. The gap is political will. Without structural safeguards, the same groups get hit first every time the economy tightens.
The most potent lesson from Wicked is that silence and fear serve the powerful. Until the core structure of the UK (Emerald City) is challenged, the wicked labels, the resulting inequalities and the denial of Belonging will persist.
Call to Action
Belonging will not grow by itself. It grows when people stop accepting shortcuts, scapegoats and silence.
- Challenge claims that have no evidence. Look at the data, not the headline.
- Ask leaders for the numbers behind their decisions and push for policies that close gaps rather than mask them.
- In workplaces, demand transparent reporting, fair recruitment and consistent standards.
- Back colleagues who raise equity issues instead of leaving them exposed.
These steps are not dramatic, but they are the ones that stop a society falling for the Wizard’s story and start shifting it toward something fairer.
What Are You Actually Fighting For?
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.
Closing Reflections on Anti-Racism in Education
For three articles, we have explored the urgency of anti-racism in education: racism as a safeguarding issue, the policy–practice disconnect, and the role of belonging and empathy in curriculum reform. Each piece has shared evidence, strategies, and practical steps for schools and teachers.
But sometimes data isn’t enough. Sometimes policy isn’t enough. Sometimes what we need is language that speaks not only to the head, but to the heart.
This final post in the series is not an essay. It is a poem. A truth-telling. A mirror held up to the contradictions of nationalism and the realities of Britain’s multicultural identity. It is a reminder of why anti-racism in the curriculum matters- not as an ‘add-on’, but as the honest story of who we are.
What are you actually fighting for?
(For the ones who carry the world in their veins – and make this island beat.)
What are you actually fighting for?
I mean-
have you stopped to taste the air you’re breathing?
That air laced with the spices from the corner shop down the road,
the samosa stand next to the bus stop,
the Portuguese bakery with custard tarts that taste like heaven on a tired Tuesday.
You yell about purity with a mouth that still carries
last night’s tikka masala.
And the flags-
Oh, the flags!
You wave them like swords,
St George’s cross stitched bold on cotton,
blood-red lines cutting through white.
But you forgot, didn’t you?
That St George wasn’t from here.
That the saint you scream under
was born somewhere foreign,
his story carried by traders and travellers
long before your postcode was drawn on a map.
Your symbol is a migrant.
Your flag is an immigrant.
But you raise it like a shield
against the very soil it grew from.
And the Union flag-
a stitched-together puzzle of histories,
threads from Scotland, Ireland, England,
woven into a single declaration:
We are many.
We are mixed.
We are made from meeting points,
from ports and ships and stories that came crashing in with the tide.
A union.
A blend.
A patchwork cloak.
You’ve wrapped it tight,
but you’re choking on the irony.
What are you actually fighting for?
Because from here, it looks like fear
dressed up in patriotism,
looks like rage you can’t name,
painted on banners you don’t understand.
Your voice is loud,
but your knowledge is quiet.
History echoes,
and you drown it out with chants
that sound more like hollow drums than truth.
Meanwhile-
your lunch is an onion bhaji,
grease soaking through the paper bag,
and when you stumble home tonight,
you’ll flick through menus like passports:
Chinese, Indian, Thai,
a taste of somewhere else in every bite.
Your belly says yes
to the world you say no to.
It’s easy, isn’t it,
to hate what you don’t know,
but love it on a plate?
To fear what you can’t pronounce,
but crave it for dinner?
Your fork is braver than your heart.
Your stomach more open than your mind.
We see you,
draped in cotton stitched overseas,
trainers made in Vietnam,
phone built from hands in factories
that have never felt British soil,
but hold your future tighter than you do.
You call this pride.
But we call it forgetting.
Forgetting that this island
is a mosaic of footsteps,
a patchwork of prayers,
a hand-me-down jacket
from centuries of travellers.
You wear history
like a blindfold.
What are you actually fighting for?
A myth?
A memory that never belonged to you?
An idea of “pure”
that never existed?
Even the soil beneath you
was shaped by glaciers that wandered here
from somewhere else.
We are a nation
built by boats and borders crossed,
by accents and spices,
by stories sewn into every street sign.
We are not a closed book.
We are an anthology.
And you’re standing in the middle of it
with a marker,
trying to black out pages
that taught you how to read.
So, here’s my truth:
No flag can save you from yourself.
You can clutch it, wave it,
let it snap and crack in the wind
like an angry tongue,
but it will not make you right.
Because that red cross you worship
was carried here by immigrants,
and the jack you wear like armour
is stitched together from difference,
not division.
So we ask you again:
What are you actually fighting for?
Because this island was never yours to guard- it was always ours to share.
And no matter how high you raise that flag,
it cannot erase the taste of curry on your breath,
the Cantonese whispers in your takeaway,
the Portuguese custard on your tongue,
the Turkish barber shaping your hair,
the Nigerian nurse who will hold your hand when you’re old and afraid.
This is Britain.
Not the fantasy you’re screaming for,
but the truth you’re standing on.
A country made rich by every hand that built it.
A song of accents rising through city streets.
An anthem of:
borrowed flavours- jerk chicken and jollof, shawarma, sushi, samosas and sourdough, pho, peri-peri, and pints of chai;
borrowed words- bungalow, ketchup, robot, shampoo, khaki, curry, chocolate, chaos, pyjamas;
borrowed technologies- printing presses, steam engines, satellites, trains that run on rails laid by migrant hands;
borrowed clothing- saris and suits, turbans and trainers, jeans born in Italy, stitched in Bangladesh;
borrowed rhythms- jazz and jungle, bhangra beats and punk guitar, Afrobeats shaking London basements;
borrowed stories – sagas, scriptures, epics, and myths ferried here on waves and winds;
borrowed inventions – recipes, languages stitched together like patchwork quilts, passports of possibility, hand-me-down hope,
and second chances.
Lower your flag.
Take a seat.
Hear the harmony in your own history-
This isn’t a solo,
it is a symphony.
And know this:
the strongest nations are not guarded by gates,
but opened by arms.
—-
The poem above speaks directly to the myths we tell ourselves as a nation. It exposes the irony of waving a flag stitched together from migration, while demanding purity that never existed. It challenges us to look honestly at the mosaic of influences – food, music, language, technology, healthcare, labour – that make Britain what it is.
This isn’t just a political reflection. It’s an educational one. When schools shy away from teaching the truth, when they reduce Black history to a week in October, when they treat diversity as tokenism rather than truth- they do children a profound disservice. They deny them the tools of empathy, the skills of critical thinking, and the pride of belonging.
Anti-racism in the curriculum is not about ‘teaching politics’. It’s about teaching reality. It’s about ensuring that when children open a textbook, they see the world as it is: interconnected, complex, and beautiful in its diversity.
Final Messages
- Curriculum is a mirror, a window, and a door. Children must see themselves reflected, see others clearly, and step into unfamiliar worlds with curiosity rather than fear.
- Representation is accuracy. Britain’s history is not monocultural. It is centuries of migration, invention, and exchange. To hide that truth is to teach falsehood.
- Empathy is not optional. It is a skill, and like literacy or numeracy, it must be taught, practised, and embedded.
- Belonging is safeguarding. A child who feels invisible, erased, or unsafe is not protected. Anti-racism is child protection.
Every chant in the street, every flag raised in anger, every online echo of hate is a reminder: education is where we break these cycles or allow them to continue. If we fail to tell the truth in classrooms, we leave children vulnerable to lies outside them.
This reminder is a call to remember that Britain has never been a closed island. It is, and always has been, a crossroads. A patchwork. A symphony. The curriculum must reflect that, not as a concession, but as the truth.