Racial Equity in Sheffield: From Commitment to Collective Action

Written by Hannah Wilson
Founder and Director of the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators).
On Friday, I co-organised and co-hosted a Racial Equity Conference in Sheffield for our partners, Sheffield City Council and Learn Sheffield, in collaboration with our Belonging Effect Associate, Homaira Ibrahim.
We opened the day with Simon Sinek’s Golden Circle, inviting everyone in the room to reflect on and share their why. Why were we there? Why does racial equity matter to us? Why are we committed to doing this work?
Before beginning the programme, we also stood together to show our respect and collectively share our condolences with the family, friends and colleagues of Professor Jason Arday.
It was a poignant way to begin a day centred on race, equity, inclusion and belonging.
But the conference was not simply an opportunity to talk about racial equity. It was an opportunity to explore what racial equity looks like when we examine our systems, interrogate our practice, listen to different lived experiences and consider what we are collectively prepared to change.
Because intention matters. But intention alone does not create equity.
Context and collective responsibility
Our first contributions located the conversation firmly within Sheffield.
Fatima Khan-Shah, Chair of the Race Equality Partnership Sheffield (REPS), explored Sheffield’s race equity journey and the role of REPS, highlighting how race equity sits at the heart of the city’s goals and considering the particular role that education and schools play within this wider context.
Meredith Teasdale-Dixon, Strategic Director at Sheffield City Council, focused on responsibility. How do leaders improve outcomes for children and families across Sheffield? How do we create more equitable opportunities and experiences? And importantly, how do we ensure that our commitment results in measurable change?
Dr Shirley Woods-Gallagher, Assistant Director at Sheffield City Council, then explored belonging through an anti-racist lens.
Her contribution connected race, identity, power and inclusion with wellbeing, achievement and community cohesion. Drawing on Sheffield’s citywide Belonging Framework and wider inclusion work, she challenged us to consider how anti-racist practice moves beyond policies and statements of intent and becomes visible in our everyday behaviours, relationships and decision-making.
There was an important thread emerging: racial equity cannot belong to one team, one strategy, one leader or one organisation – it requires collective responsibility. It also requires effort as mentors, coaches and sponsors. Shirley’s role as mentor coach acting as the ladder and lamp for an AuDHD Black trainee teacher really stood out for very many of the audience.
Moving from allyship to advocacy
My contribution to the day focused on allyship and advocacy and, specifically, the journey we take as allies. I invited colleagues to reflect on privilege, vulnerability and our willingness to get things wrong.
Anti-racist work can create discomfort. It can surface strong emotions. It can challenge our perception of ourselves as inclusive people and force us to recognise the occasions when our intentions and our impact have not aligned. But discomfort cannot become an excuse for disengagement.
We need to develop the confidence and courage to create and hold safe spaces for difficult conversations. We need to become more comfortable with being challenged, with learning from mistakes and with recognising what we do not yet know. And we need to be prepared to challenge language, behaviours, decisions and practices that exclude or disadvantage others.
Jennifer Brown’s Allyship Continuum invites us to consider a journey from Apathetic to Aware, from Aware to Active, and ultimately from Active to Advocate.
Perhaps one of the most important questions we can ask ourselves is not simply:
Where do I think I am on that continuum?
But:
What evidence would somebody else use to place me there?
Allyship is not something we declare. It is something other people experience through our choices, behaviours and actions.
Holding the space for inclusion and belonging
Professor Paul Miller, from the Institute for Equity at University Centre, challenged us through his provocation, Democratic Failure or Democratic Resistance: Holding the Centre-Ground in the Fight for Inclusion and Belonging.
His contribution created space for us to think about the wider environment in which our work is taking place and the importance of continuing to engage with questions of inclusion and belonging when they are contested.
Anti-racist practice does not happen in isolation from society. Our schools, organisations and communities are influenced by the narratives, tensions and inequalities that exist beyond their walls.
This means that our commitment to equity cannot simply be reactive. It requires us to understand the context in which we are leading and educating, while remaining clear about our responsibility to create environments in which every child, family and colleague can experience dignity, safety and belonging.
Intersectionality changes what we see
One of the most important themes of the day was intersectionality. Too often, our organisational approaches separate different aspects of inclusion into parallel workstreams. Race sits here. SEND sits there. Gender, faith, socio-economic disadvantage and other aspects of identity sit somewhere else. But people do not experience their identities separately.
Domini Choudhury, Associate at The Belonging Effect, explored what happens when we frame SEND intersectionally. Her session challenged colleagues to consider the multi-layered barriers some learners and their families navigate when trying to have their needs recognised and met. These include societal and systemic barriers within the SEND system itself, but also culturally specific barriers to diagnosis and support.
Cultural and religious frameworks can shape how disability and additional needs are understood. Practitioner bias and unconscious assumptions can influence whose needs are recognised, how behaviours are interpreted and what support is offered.
This creates an important challenge for leaders:
- What happens when we interrogate our SEND data through an intersectional lens?
- Who is being identified?
- Who is not?
- Who receives support, and when?
- Whose behaviour is interpreted as a need and whose is interpreted as a problem?
The data we collect matters. But the questions we are prepared to ask of that data matter too.
Language, identity and the experiences of Black boys
Johnoi Josephs and Albert Adeyemi, founders of Black Men Teach, focused our attention on the educational experiences of Black boys. Their contribution explored the relationship between the language we use and the realities and self-belief we help to create.
Language is never neutral. The words we use to describe children communicate expectations. They shape relationships. They influence how other adults perceive a child and, over time, can influence how that child perceives themselves.
Johnoi and Albert invited us to think intentionally about how we build pride, belonging and positive identity both inside and outside the classroom, and how we create accessible and empowering learning environments in which Black boys can thrive.
This requires us to move beyond deficit narratives and ask different questions:
- Not What is wrong with this child?
- But What might this child be experiencing?
- Not Why will this family not engage?
- But What barriers might we have created to engagement?
- Not simply How do we raise achievement?
- But How do we create the conditions in which children feel seen, valued, understood and able to succeed?
Whose lived experience are we centring?
Olivia Morrison from The Traveller Movement brought another vital perspective to the conversation. Her session explored the discrimination experienced by Romani (Gypsy), Roma and Irish Traveller people, the equality gaps that persist, and the importance of working in genuine partnership with the communities.
Central to this was the need to centre lived experience within anti-racist activity. There is an important distinction between designing for communities and working with them.
If we are serious about equity, we cannot assume that professional expertise gives us all of the answers. We need to listen to people whose experiences of our institutions and systems may be very different from the experiences we believe we are creating. That requires humility. It also requires us to ask who is missing from the conversations in which decisions about them are being made.
Bringing the conversation back to Sheffield
Homaira Ibrahim, Race Equality Partnership Manager at Sheffield City Council and Belonging Effect Associate, brought the different threads of the day back together through the specific context of race, ethnicity and belonging in Sheffield schools. She shared findings from Sheffield’s Race Equality Commission and its recommendations for education, alongside the city’s ethnicity data and current landscape.
She also highlighted the work of AREAS, the Anti Racist Education Alliance Sheffield, the support available for Sheffield schools and opportunities for future collaboration.
This was important. National conversations help us understand patterns and systems. Research helps us understand evidence. Lived experience helps us understand impact. But ultimately, equity work also has to become local:
- What does our data tell us about our children?
- What are our families telling us?
- What patterns can we see within our institutions?
- And what are we going to do about them?
From conversation to collective action
We ended the day with roundtable discussions prompted by Sheffield City Council’s Director of Belonging, Steve Kay.
Three questions were posed:
- What support, resources or opportunities would help you further develop your anti-racist practice?
- What actions can we take collectively to improve outcomes and opportunities for Roma children, families and communities?
- How can we strengthen engagement with marginalised groups to ensure equitable access to Early Years provision?
For me, these questions captured something important about the day. They moved us from What have we heard? to What are we going to do?
Because conferences can create powerful moments of reflection, connection and learning. But the real test comes afterwards – what changes when we return to our schools, teams, organisations and communities?
We show up. We stand up. We speak up. We check in.
We ended the conference by making commitments:
- We show up – Not only when conversations are comfortable or when racial equity is on the agenda, but consistently.
- We stand up – We challenge inequity when we encounter it. We notice who has power, who has access, who is heard and who may be overlooked.
- We speak up – We use our voices, our influence and our privilege to challenge exclusion and advocate alongside others.
- We check in – We listen. We reflect. We seek feedback. We examine our impact. And when necessary, we change our approach.
Anti-racist practice requires us to move through the fear zone, into the learning zone and onwards into the growth zone. It requires curiosity, humility and courage. And it requires action.
The question is not simply whether we care about racial equity. I imagine that most people who chose to spend Friday in that room do.
The harder questions come next:
- What will we notice that we did not notice before?
- What will we question that we previously accepted?
- Whose experiences will we seek to understand?
- What conversations will we now be willing to have?
- What will we challenge?
- What will we change?
Because our commitment to racial equity cannot be measured solely by what we say in rooms where people have gathered because they already care about it. It must be visible in what happens when we leave those rooms. That is where awareness becomes action. That is where allyship becomes advocacy. And that is where we begin shaping intention into impact.
Continue the learning
For those wanting to continue their learning and reflection, my recommended reading from the day was Emma Dabiri’s What White People Can Do Next.
Professor Miller has also shared the article that he cited in his talk: A common enemy approach to anti-racism in higher education | THE Campus Learn, Share, Connect
The Belonging Effect also has a range of free resources to support individuals, schools and organisations in developing their DEIB practice, including our DEIB Calendar, blogs, toolkits, reading lists and glossaries.
Further development opportunities discussed during the day included Sheffield City Council’s Developing Racial Literacy programme, The Belonging Effect’s Diverse Leaders programme, and our Anti-Racism Virtual Conference.
The conference may have ended on Friday. The work, of course, needs to continue and be sustained.
Cultivating a Culture of Belonging: It Is Never ‘Done’

Written by Hannah Wilson
Founder and Director of the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators).
Last week, I had the privilege of chairing a panel at the IAPS Heads’ Conference exploring a question that sits at the heart of my work: how do we cultivate a culture of belonging for all?
I was joined by three school leaders, Charlotte Crookes, Fergus Llewellyn and Sadia Hussain-Savuk, who generously shared their personal and professional journeys through Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Belonging (DEIB).
What struck me throughout our conversation was not a claim to expertise or a presentation of perfectly packaged solutions. Instead, there was honesty, vulnerability and a willingness to share what had been learnt along the way. Their reflective and inclusive leadership modelled how we need to show up to start the work and how we position ourselves in order to sustain it.
Belonging is not something we complete
I framed our conversation by considering what we actually mean when we talk about belonging. For me, belonging is about being seen, heard, included, valued and safe. It is about being able to bring our whole selves into a space without having to edit, minimise or leave parts of our identity at the door.
Belonging is not something we achieve, tick off and move on from. It is dynamic. It is relational. It is contextual. Most importantly, it is cyclical.
As our communities change, our understanding needs to change with them. As we learn more about the lived experiences of our pupils, staff and families, we need to be prepared to question practices that may once have seemed inclusive. As the world beyond our school gates changes, we need to consider what those changes mean for the people within them.
The work is never ‘done’.
Looking in the mirror before looking out of the window
One of the recurring themes in our discussion was the importance of reflection. Before asking what everybody else needs to change, leaders need to be prepared to look closely at themselves and their organisations:
- Who feels that they belong here?
- Who does not?
- Whose voices are heard most loudly?
- Whose experiences might we be missing?
- Who has learnt to navigate our culture successfully, and who is expected to adapt themselves in order to fit in?
And, perhaps most provocatively for independent schools: are we really as inclusive as we believe ourselves to be?
These are not comfortable questions. Nor should they be. Cultivating belonging requires us to look in the mirror before we look out of the window.
Responding to the world beyond the school gates
Our conversation also explored the responsibility schools have to respond to what is happening in wider society. I asked Charlotte to reflect on her journey through anti-racism and racial equity, and how school leaders respond when racism, division and social unrest become increasingly visible beyond the school gates.
These moments matter.
Children and young people do not leave the outside world at reception when they arrive at school. Neither do their families or our colleagues. News stories, political discourse, racism, discrimination and social tensions enter our classrooms through the experiences, fears, questions and conversations of the people in them.
Silence communicates something too.
This does not mean leaders need to have an immediate answer to every complex issue. Leadership is not about having all the answers. It is about how we respond when things are difficult, how we support others and the culture we create around us.
Sometimes courageous leadership begins by acknowledging that we do not have all of the answers and need to learn.
Listening to lived experience
Fergus shared reflections from a journey that has considered a range of identities and, crucially, has involved listening to stakeholders about their experiences of school. This is fundamental to bringing the whole school community with us on the journey.
We cannot measure belonging simply by looking at policies, representation or what leaders intended to create. We have to ask people what it feels like to be there. There can be a significant perception gap between our intention and somebody else’s experience.
Listening helps us find that gap. But listening needs to go beyond consultation. If we repeatedly ask people to share their experiences without demonstrating what we have heard, what we have learnt and what we will change, we risk creating consultation fatigue rather than belonging.
The question is not simply: ‘Have we asked?’ It is: ‘What have we changed because we listened?’
Young people should be co-creators, not consumers
Sadia brought another important dimension to the conversation: the role of young people themselves.
Our pupils care deeply about identity, equity and social justice. They notice inconsistency. They question systems. They experience our school cultures differently from the adults who lead them.
So why would we develop DEIB strategies for young people without developing them with young people? It reminds me of the commitment: nothing about us, without us.
Meaningful pupil voice is not about asking pupils to approve decisions that adults have already made. It means creating opportunities for young people to identify issues, shape priorities, challenge thinking and contribute to solutions.
When we involve pupils as co-creators, we communicate something powerful: your experience matters, your voice has value and you have agency within this community. That, in itself, cultivates belonging.
Courage without perfection
As we brought the panel to a close, I asked each panellist what advice they would give to leaders beginning, or developing, their own DEIB journey.
Several themes emerged:
- Being willing to be vulnerable.
- Acknowledging that it does not have to happen to you to matter to you.
- Listening deeply to your stakeholders and involving them as co-creators.
- Distributing responsibility so that inclusion does not become the work of one passionate individual.
- Creating enough psychological safety for people to make mistakes, acknowledge them, learn from them and do better.
- Taking tangible actions, such as signing up to the Halo Code, which challenges hair discrimination.
- Getting started, with small tangible steps to create momentum.
We addressed the fact that one of the dangers of this work is believing that we need to know everything before we can do anything. We do not. We instead need humility, curiosity and courage. We need to know when to lead, when to listen, when to ask for help and when to acknowledge that our understanding has changed.
From intention to impact
I ended the session by thanking Charlotte, Fergus and Sadia for their courageous leadership and their candour. Their stories reminded us that inclusive leadership is not demonstrated by claiming to have got everything right. It is demonstrated by being willing to ask difficult questions, hear difficult answers and respond intentionally to what we learn.
The feedback following the panel reinforced this. One attendee reflected on leaving with a renewed commitment to ensuring every pupil feels ‘seen, safe, valued and supported’, and to creating a culture where belonging is not merely an aspiration but a lived experience.
That distinction matters as:
- Most schools intend for children to belong.
- Most leaders would say they value inclusion.
- Most mission statements contain words such as respect, community, kindness or equality.
The challenge is not necessarily our intention. The real challenge is whether that intention is experienced by everybody.
So perhaps the questions we need to leave ourselves with are these:
- Who belongs in our schools?
- How do we know?
- Who might experience our culture differently from the way we imagine it?
- Whose voice have we not yet heard?
- What are we prepared to change because of what we hear?
And ultimately:
- How will we know when our intention has become impact?
Cultivating belonging is not a project, an initiative or a destination. It is an ongoing commitment to noticing, listening, learning and acting, and then having the courage to begin the cycle again.
Continue the conversation
At The Belonging Effect, our commitment is to Shaping Intention into Impact. Our team supports schools and organisations to move beyond good intentions and create cultures where belonging can be experienced, strengthened and measured.
References and resources
Explore our training and resources on The Belonging Effect website, including our Belonging Toolkit, and continue your professional learning with my book, Cultivating Belonging in Schools.
Supporting teachers with ADHD

Written by Susi Waters
Susi Waters, Operations Manager at Norfolk Research School; the Research Schools Network (RSN) Regional EDI Link (East of England and East Midlands); and Operations Manager and ITT Strategic Lead at the Julian Teaching School Hub.
ADHD, or Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, is a neurodevelopmental disorder that affects both children and adults. The NHS estimates that, as of August 2025, 2.5m people in England have ADHD, with 1.76m of those being adults. ADHD is equally common across genders; however women and girls often go un- or mis-diagnosed due to a difference in the way ADHD tends to present in them, and late diagnosis in adulthood is not uncommon.
As teaching is a predominantly female profession (McShane and Sheppard, 2024), it is therefore unsurprising that a significant number of teachers may be recently diagnosed with ADHD and would like advice on how to manage it in the workplace.
ACAS tells us that being neurodivergent, including ADHD, often amounts to a disability under the Equality Act (2010), and therefore employers are obliged to make reasonable adjustments to remove or reduce the disadvantage faced by these individuals related to their neurodivergence. Schools are generally very happy to do this – but if you’re newly diagnosed and/or an early career teacher, how do you know what to ask for?
Signs and symptoms of ADHD can include:
- Inattention
- Restlessness
- Impulsivity
- Emotional dysregulation
- Hyperfocus
- Executive dysfunction
- Motivational deficits (most often in children).
In teachers, having ADHD means that the daily pressures and challenges of teaching are amplified. Teachers with ADHD may struggle with organisation, time management, maintaining focus, and workload management. This can look like a teacher being easily distracted in lessons, or struggling to stay on track. Lesson planning and marking may take significantly longer than for neurotypical teachers. From NeuroLaunch: “Emotional regulation and impulse control also play a crucial role in the classroom. Teachers with ADHD may find it challenging to manage their reactions to disruptive behaviour or unexpected situations. The impulsivity associated with ADHD can sometimes lead to hasty decisions or comments that may require damage control later.”
None of this means that people with ADHD are unsuited to teaching; in fact, the variety inherent in teaching and the constant interpersonal interactions make it particularly attractive to some. Hyperfocus is an amazing tool for creative lesson planning, and thinking divergently pushes innovation in the classroom. ADHD gives you amazing empathy to ‘invisible’ needs such as stimming or rejection sensitivity and neurodivergent staff are more likely to spot masking proxies for learning as well as being better able to support parents to advocate for their neurodivergent children. The challenge is to harness your ADHD and make it work for you.
Before thinking about what reasonable adjustments would help, it’s worth ensuring that you’re setting yourself up for success: seeking appropriate medical and therapeutic care, practicing mindfulness or meditation, and regular exercise can all help manage symptoms. Learning to recognise triggers is also important for emotional regulation. You know yourself best, so find what works for you.
Embrace technology! The ADHD Workbook has a great list of useful tools, including time management apps, speech-to-text transcription, and digital calendars. Task management platforms such as Trello can also help in breaking down large or complex tasks into manageable chunks. NeuroLaunch also lists some “compensation strategies” such as sticking to a structured routine and using visual aids and reminders.
So let’s talk reasonable adjustments. Charlotte Forbes on LinkedIn has some great suggestions:
- Flexible working. Yes, of course, this is more difficult for teachers than for many other sectors, but flexible working can include taking PPA time at home for fewer distractions, or being given longer lead-in times for deadlines with regular reminders scheduled in.
- Everything in writing! Written instructions, meeting agendas, conversations followed up via email and so on can really help.
- Regular check ins – especially if you’re an ECT. This might look like a little extra mentor time, or shorter but more frequent catch ups with your Head of Department.
- Being told about changes before they happen and being given context for impromptu meetings.
- Clear lines of communication, whether email, Teams chat or similar, and no dropping into lessons with a quick verbal message.
- Access to HR for policies on sickness and stress-related sick days, and extra support with conflict.
- Access to quiet spaces, and noise-cancelling headphones.
If you’re attending CPD or training, it may help you to let the trainer or facilitator know how to can make sure you have everything you need to access the learning. This might include:
- Sending you resources in advance.
- Making a note not to cold call you.
- If there is silent working at any point, using noise cancelling headphones.
- Regular wandering-around breaks.
ADHD UK has a teachers group, you can join here.
The Julian Teaching School Hub has a Wellbeing page, where you can access more support and resources.
Herstory in Leadership

Written by Kiran Satti
Deputy Principal and National Curriculum Lead for Early Reading
This blog was previously published by Oasis Community Learning.
It has now been just over two years since I joined Oasis Community Learning, and I can say with certainty that I am not the same person I was when I arrived. When I first found Oasis, I was broken – I am still not sure how I found the strength to go through the interview process but reading through the blog I was asked to write for Oasis for HerStory month, I know how now. I was broken. Yet, time and time again, I understand growth comes through pain, reflection, discomfort and the difficult work of choosing to remain true to yourself.
One thing I know to be true as a woman from a global majority background, is that very little is ever simple. I was asked to write a version of my Oasis blog a few months ago for Belonging Effect, but I believe everything happens when it’s meant to. This summer has been another sh**show… Reflecting on the death of Jason Arday has made me question the idea of representation and what exactly is the purpose of it? When you’re representative of something different to the status quo, why is your life, your human life the thing that is in the balance?
We’re coming to the end of the summer and I’ve already seen too many reports about Meghan and Harry returning to the UK – and all I can see is a certain demographic of people ready and waiting with their pitchforks. What concerns and saddens me the most is whether Meghan will survive this time… have any lessons been learnt?
The fact is when we see a reimagined representation of a black man or a reimagined face of feminism, who is truly an intersectional representation of feminism… who does this trigger hate in? Why? Are you racist? Are you sexist? Are you projecting? In order for lessons to be learnt, we need to look inwards. Those that are reading this already do – you wouldn’t be in this space reading this otherwise. We know what the deep work is – many of us have had to dig deep to survive and at times dare to thrive.
If we base our assertions on the superficial, if I took the racism I have experienced at face value I would have become bitter. If I took the sexism and misogyny at face value, I would’ve lost my self respect and self worth… my peace of mind is what matters – more than anything.
Peace is a luxury in life. Peace of mind is not hard to come by when you are protected by privilege; when you do not fear for your life because of who you are; when you do not have to fight to be seen or heard as fully human; when you do not have to constantly prove yourself before you are allowed to belong.
Some don’t want you to belong – I have experienced this first hand. And when they’re seeing you blinded their privilege, being careless with your humanity isn’t something they feel guilty for. They have the privilege of not having to see you as a human – you are a threat to their status quo, to their version of success – how dare you arrive in all your worth and disrupt – unintentionally… when we’re living our values, you will disrupt those that aren’t living through values or ethics – and you highlight that fact.
Those who have witnessed my growth through education have often reminded me of my resilience, my determination and my kindness. Looking back, I realise I have always been a trauma-informed and trauma-responsive educator, because my own experiences have shaped how I see the world: its people, its systems and its levers of power. My traumas have not made me weaker. They have sharpened my ability to notice, to listen and to recognise humanity in others – and know what feel when I am not safe.
One pattern I have encountered, particularly when moving into leadership, is projection. At times, it can feel dehumanising: as though another person’s fear, insecurity or need for control is placed onto you until you begin to question yourself. Sometimes the intention seems to be to undermine you, to position you as difficult, or to push you out before you have had the chance to grow into your full potential – all while stifling you, tripping you up, keeping your head under water until you stop kicking… if you know, you know these feelings.
Representation matters deeply, but representation without commitment to the human being can become another kind of harm. The lesson I am taking from Jason Arday’s story is that systems rooted in patriarchy and inequality rarely make space willingly. Jason Arday was a beautiful, gifted black man – he smashed every single stereotype possible in the face of masculinity and academia.
The truth is Empowered women are not always made to feel safe; global majority women are not always truly represented; too often, they are presented as symbols while their voices, experiences and expertise are not fully valued, or at best used to further enable the status quo covering up the inequity it’s still feeding. That is why so many people learn it is safer to shrink once they “get there”. The idea of safety, that luxury of peace of mind, can feel more expensive the more successful you become.
This leaves me with a difficult question: are we selling the children we serve false hope if we do not also tell them the truth about the systems they may have to navigate? The idea and image of leadership – has it really changed? We’ve had glimmers of what could be – Jacinda Ardern, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez … yet we have Putin, Trump, Netanyahu … we have global leaders destroying Mother Earth because they’re projecting their perceived power through acts of violence and aggression… the manosphere isn’t anything new – it’s been around since misogyny planted patriarchy into the soul of every system reliant now on capitalism… AI is the new world for patriarchy to keep on flourishing, division to keep breeding and inequity to be the face of perceived progress… it’s all a bit sh** really.
Throughout my journey, I have carried words that were never mine to hold:
- You’re too small.
- You’re too pretty; if you weren’t so kind, I would not like you.
- You’re not white.
- You’re too emotional.
- You care too much.
- You’re not ready to lead English.
- You need to be more resilient.
- That’s not the normal way.
For the most part, and unfortunately, it has often been women within certain organisations and institutions who have seen me as a threat to their status quo, they exemplified the dangers of internalised misogyny in women who don’t want to see the value of another woman in the same space: I was someone to contain, question, dismiss or damage before I could reach the potential they could already see in me but would not nurture. Some encounters have been inhumane, unkind and, at times, intentionally cruel.
One person seemed to believe her race made her better than me. Another was threatened by what I could become and made it clear she was not there to enable me, but to try to destroy me. One deeply hurt me. One did break me.
When you are not seen as a human being, it is a feeling you recognise. I have known it since I was little. When the world sees you as something less than fully human because you’re a girl, you learn that only you (and your mum’s tenacity) can plant the seeds of your worth. Only you can keep returning to yourself. Only you can decide that survival is not enough, that shrinking is not safety, and that your peace is worth protecting.
Humanity is what we are. Yet it is sometimes the very thing we fail to recognise in one another. My journey of leadership and growth has taught me that using my voice is not disruption, choosing peace is not weakness, and being true to myself is not optional. It is the foundation of the leader I am still becoming. I never took a child’s feeling of worth and safety for granted when I taught them – I made it very clear to them they were to question me, disagree with me and feel safe to take those risks to enable them to surpass their idea of their own success – and they did. I truly hope, in the age of AI, they are still thinking critically and challenging. As leaders, we should already be questioning, we should already be able to disagree, to challenge… based on our understanding of ourselves and what we think – and that sometimes means you’re going to disagree with yourself if you’re intention is to learn and understand – it doesn’t mean we deny the humanity in each other.
As we’re moving into another academic year, I am hoping we do not witness another gifted human, who is representative of the re-imagined, lose her power, break and fall. Meghan is one of the role models we look at as part of our Building on Barbie leadership work… and that is another hope… I hope we stop recycling the same argument about the commodification of feminism and only seeing the Barbie doll through the male gaze… look beyond the superficial to what the doll is meant to represent – a woman’s body is a woman’s body – it is hers to make the her life choices from… when you contextualise that with the fact that women’s body were not legally part of any medical research, that marital rape was legal until 1993…. Barbie’s silhouette is a challenge to the patriarchy, it’s a call to arms… in some ways, it was a political statement undermining the power of patriarchy and its influence on gender politics… in the 1950’s… the era of the original ‘trad-wife’ – if you look at the timing of the trad wife trend … it’s a reaction to the Barbie movie dissecting gendered assertions.
Caroline Flack. Jason Arday. Amy Winehouse…
I truly hope lessons have been learnt and we take care – we take care and see the human before we feel privileged enough to make comments.
I am starting to see my traumas and lived experience as a gift – the spectrum of human behaviour can be measured in degrees of cruelty and degrees of kindness, motive, perception, and environment all feed into how we choose to behave towards each other.
I’ve had men tell me I shine too bright – one tried to break me, but it’s been the women who have been relentless in their determination to trip me up, belittle me – try and diminish my talent and undermine my professional worth by finding things to pick on…
But I believe everything happens for a reason – I hope Jason Arday’s death does bring change, accountability and CARE.
Reflecting on my two years at Oasis, and navigating certain things this summer, I am grateful for the special, serendipitous moments have manifested. Some becoming forever moments like the my WomenEd chapter coming to life through the Building on Barbie Leadership Project – for now, I feel safe, I feel I am valued and I do feel I belong…
Intersectional Feminism – this is where hope resides.
Your most powerful pedagogical tool this year? Storytelling.

Written by Ed Kirwan
Ed Kirwan is Founder and CEO of Empathy Studios, an education and creative studio using the power of film to develop the skill of empathy in all. An educator for 10+ years, Ed was previously a science teacher in London before becoming a professional filmmaker and director with International film festival recognition. Ed also started Empathy Week, the world’s largest empathy festival for schools having reached 2.5 million students across 56 countries.
More storytelling please!
You may roll your eyes if you’re teaching 3-8 year olds as you’ll be actively reading and engaging with stories a lot but this article is still for you too, hear me out…
As educators we all know the power of stories and if you’re a parent you will too (I’m about to become a dad T-2 weeks or so, so i’ve already been thinking what stories I want to read to my newborn – suggestions please)!
But the real question I’m posing to you is not whether you are using stories but are you utilising the skill of storytelling?
Stories and storytelling are not the same thing.
Stories are the raw material, the information and the detail but storytelling, that’s the art form, the active process in which the storyteller engages with emotion, hooks you into a narrative and ultimately takes you outside of your own reality in a way that, in the most powerful of circumstances, can change you.
I’ll never forget an assembly in year 8 when I was at school (early 2000’s). Mr. Wileman, my head of year, stood in front of 180 of us. Holding a can of dog food and with steam pouring out, started his assembly as usual.
“Good morning year 8!”
He took a second, a slight pause as if he was going to continue on to the next part but instead he dips his fork in, gets a chunk of meat and puts it in his mouth, chews and swallows.
“Aeaaaeeewehhhhhh” – the hall erupted.
Mr. Wileman – “what’s wrong with this?”
“It’s dogfood sir!”
Of course it wasn’t. It was a beef stew but the moral of the story has stuck with me – reserve judgement. You don’t always know the full picture. Even if you see something that gives you evidence to support your theory, you might still be wrong. Be curious, give the benefit of the doubt and reserve your judgement.
I’m now a good 20 years past this assembly but that’s the power of storytelling. It wasn’t a story he told, it was the art of storytelling he used.
The science shows us that storytelling has biological, emotional and physical effect. It can significantly lower anxiety and anger in teenage girls and also increase oxytocin and positive emotions whilst decreasing cortisol and pain in hospitalised children.
Storytelling can lower stress, increase bonding and help build resilience.
Storytelling is the oldest form of education known to humans.
I started my career as a science teacher and chemistry specialist, it didn’t scream “storyteller”.
But now as a professional filmmaker, I know that storytelling can be your most powerful pedagogical teaching tool this year. Here’s 3 ideas and ways for you to implement a stronger approach to storytelling into your teaching practice.
1. Bookend stories with ‘check in’s’
Being pulled into a story actually calms our nervous system but adding a structure can help build emotional literacy and regulation. For this we use a feelings wheel and the teacher can follow this flow:
- Ask everyone to check in with themselves for 15 seconds and ask them “how are you feeling right now?” (silence and no need to write anything with also the use of the feelings wheel on the board or in front of them)
- Use a piece of media, read a story with them, utilise a powerful clip you’ve seen, tell a story yourself!
- Check in again and ask again “how are you feeling right now?” which can be in silence again with the use of the feelings wheel at hand.
- You can take this in a few directions but I find the easiest question to ask across all ages is “what was the most important/impactful part of the story for you?” and split off into pairs.
- Come back together as a class and have a quick discussion or share of time.
- Move on to your lesson, activity or class.
There is an intentionality here and a rhythm that students will get used to. I’ve found teachers have said this is impactful especially after break and lunchtimes to regulate students.
2. Encouraging courage and vulnerability.
This doesn’t always have to be you being vulnerable, but as a leader in the classroom, this is only going to happen effectively if you model it. Opening up about a struggle, a triumph, what you did at the weekend or even a person you met who inspires you will set an environment for storytelling. Don’t want to get personal? You don’t have to. There will be something you care about that you can tell as a story.
3.Use Film as a powerful catalyst
OK…. I’m biased as a filmmaker but hear me out.
Storytelling through film is a fantastic distancing technique. You can speak about real issues that affect people in the room but where no one has to share their own personal experience if they don’t want to. The result? the opportunity for a child (or adult in a PD session) to actually feel seen, heard and understood. It doesn’t have to be an “issue” either – it could be simply a story about a way of living or a cultural moment.
Opportunities to hear and see ourselves represented helps to increase our self-esteem and on the flip-side, opportunities to hear a story different than our own increases our perspective – both increase the skill of empathy.
If we feel safe enough to reflect or share a bit of our story alongside the one just told. empathy can really flourish and grow. If empathy is given the opportunity to be developed, the magic happens. Greater understanding > more connections > more trust > better relationships > greater wellbeing and inclusion.
4. Something to try for the brave (BONUS)
This requires some vulnerability but I want to propose the focus shifts from external to internal storytelling – leveraging the stories of everyone already in your community. You may know the energy company EDF in the UK? They have an internal podcast, where employees tell their story and it’s not available to the public – they’ve noted it has had a dramatic impact on wellbeing and shared experiences within the company and invest money and time into keeping it.
Perhaps you could run a storytelling assembly or even charity event. Inspiration for this could be taken from Seanchoiche – an organisation that originated in Ireland but has spread across the world that host nights where people take to the mic and share their story. Simple but incredibly powerful.
To do this well, teachers would certainly need to model a level of vulnerability first to also model the space and maturity needed to respect everyone who is brave enough to share their story.
SO….
If any of this helps spark an idea or you try it out, do let me know.
Ultimately I hope this inspires you to not just tell stories more this year but be a storyteller yourself. Add storytelling into your pedagogical arsenal with purpose – yes even you Chemistry A-level teachers. If you do take up the challenge, you will be building emotional regulation, literacy, connection, empathy and maybe most importantly, relationships.
Notes and Sources:
Thanks for reading – teachers and schools can access cinematic films and stories covering over 100 themes I’ve made on The Empathy Platform here with a 14 day free trial too!
Sources and studies mentioned:
- Goodman, R., & Newman, D. (2014). Testing a Digital Storytelling Intervention to Reduce Stress in Adolescent Females. Storytelling, Self, Society. Read the study here
- Brockington, G., et al. (2021). “Storytelling increases oxytocin and positive emotions and decreases cortisol and pain in hospitalized children.” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (PNAS). Read the full study here.
Freedom of religion or belief: The missing conversation in school belonging?

Written by Kathryn Wright
Dr Kathryn Wright is Chief Executive Officer of Culham St Gabriel's Trust, an endowed charitable foundation dedicated to supporting high-quality religion and worldviews education. She works with schools, researchers, policy makers and wider communities to explore how education can foster inclusion, belonging and understanding across difference. Kathryn is passionate about creating opportunities for every child and young person to flourish in diverse and democratic societies. Find out more at www.cstg.org.uk.
When we talk about belonging in schools, we often focus on relationships, representation, voice and participation. These matter enormously. Yet there is another dimension of belonging that we do not always name explicitly: the freedom to be yourself, to express what matters to you, and to know that your identity will be respected.
This is where Freedom of Religion or Belief (FoRB) has an important contribution to make. Culham St Gabriel’s Trust, a charitable foundation, has recently published a new toolkit and model policy offering school leaders a practical framework for creating cultures where every member of the community can flourish.
At first glance, some people may assume that FoRB is only relevant to Religious Education or to pupils from faith backgrounds. In reality, FoRB is much broader. It is a human right that protects the freedom of all people to hold, change, express, or reject religious and non-religious beliefs. It belongs equally to, for example, the Christian, the Muslim, the Jew, the Humanist, the atheist, the Sikh, the spiritual-but-not-religious young person, and the pupil who is still exploring what they think about the world. It also belongs equally to the pupil, the parent, the teacher, the governor, in fact, the whole school community
However, what interests me most is not FoRB as a legal concept, but FoRB as a belonging concept.
Belonging is often described as the experience of being accepted, valued and included. Yet it is difficult to feel that you belong if essential parts of your identity must remain hidden. Equally, it is hard to develop trust within a community if difference is treated as something to fear rather than something to understand.
The toolkit begins with three simple educational principles. Pupils should have opportunities to talk about religion or belief, talk about freedom, and learn about human rights.
These principles resonate strongly with the wider belonging agenda.
When pupils learn to talk about their own beliefs and hear about the beliefs of others, they develop the language and confidence needed to engage across difference. When they learn about freedom, they begin to understand that their rights exist alongside the rights of other people. When they learn about human rights, they discover that dignity, equality and respect are not privileges granted to some, but entitlements belonging to everyone.
Importantly, the framework moves beyond curriculum content. It recognises that belonging is shaped by the daily decisions schools make.
Does staff training include religion and belief literacy? Are teachers equipped to distinguish between genuine curiosity, clumsy language and hate-motivated behaviour? Do policies clearly address antisemitism, anti-Muslim hate and other forms of religiously motivated discrimination? Are pupils given opportunities to express their views respectfully, even when disagreement exists?
These are not peripheral questions. They are questions about culture.
The strongest aspect of the framework is its emphasis on both promoting and protecting FoRB. Too often inclusion work focuses only on celebration. Celebration matters, but it is not enough. Schools must also be prepared to respond when individuals experience prejudice, exclusion or discrimination. The documents acknowledge that some of the most common violations of FoRB in the UK are experienced through discrimination and hate incidents, making active protection just as important as promotion.
This distinction feels particularly significant in our current climate. Schools are navigating increasingly complex conversations about identity, belief, freedom of expression and social cohesion. Leaders can feel caught between competing pressures. Yet the answer is rarely to avoid these conversations. More often, it is to create the conditions where they can happen safely, respectfully and thoughtfully.
That is why belonging and FoRB are such natural partners. Both are grounded in the conviction that people matter. Both seek to create environments where individuals can participate without leaving part of themselves at the door. Both require us to balance individual freedom with collective responsibility.
Ultimately, a school where freedom of religion or belief flourishes is not simply a school where pupils learn about rights. It is a school where those rights shape everyday practice. It is a school where difference is encountered with curiosity rather than suspicion, where dignity is protected, and where every member of the community can say, with confidence: “I belong here.”
Link to the resources: https://www.reonline.org.uk/resources/inclusive-schools-promoting-and-protecting-freedom-of-religion-or-belief/
This is belonging – a refugee child’s voice

Written by Andrew Moffat
Andrew Moffat has been teaching for 25 years and is currently PD Lead at Excelsior MAT. He is the author of “No Outsiders in our school: Teaching the Equality Act in Primary Schools” and “No Outsiders: everyone different, everyone welcome”. In 2017 Andrew was awarded a MBE for services to equality and diversity in education and in 2019 he was listed as a top ten finalist in the Varkey Foundation Global Teacher Prize.
There are many blogs about belonging on this platform, but rarely do we hear direct from the voice of a child. Here is that voice:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5yxSG2U-aIk
This three-minute film was made at my school last term. My school is a two-form entry primary in Birmingham. The flags were up on lamp posts surrounding the school this time last year. Today, those flags are still there, but now they have become wallpaper. Tattered wallpaper that you don’t really notice.
However, I’m sure some of our children still notice the flags as they file through the gate every morning, searching for that reassurance that they belong; the reassurance that they fit in. Can they bring their whole selves through the gate, and will they feel accepted, embraced, respected?
Last summer, Year 6 children were set a task to write a speech for a MAT-wide oracy competition. The speech could be about a person who inspired you or ‘what equality means to me’. Hussein wrote a speech about Manchester United and showed it to his teacher. She told him this speech was good, but “It wasn’t him”. She suggested he write another and make it about something he felt deeply about; “something that had meaning in his life.” Hussein went away and wrote this second speech in fifteen minutes. This second speech was stunning. And here it is, read by Hussein and his friends.
A little context: Hussein never talked about being a refugee before Year 6. These were conversations he was not ready to have, or rather, conversations educators at the school were not confident enough to have with him. But as Hussein moved into Year 6, we introduced No Outsiders to the school and suddenly, through assemblies and lessons, we were having conversations with all children about difference and diversity. I was leading No Outsiders assemblies every week where we talked openly about refugees and attitudes towards difference within the framework of British Values and the Protected Characteristics. No Outsiders lesson plans using picture books like “The island” by Armin Greder and “Saving the butterfly” by Helen Cooper in Y6 enabled pupils to hold conversations exploring experiences of refugees and relate these experiences to our life in school. No Outsiders gave us the tools to build an inclusive, welcoming narrative so that all children felt reassured that they belonged.
Hussein slowly started opening up about his own experiences as a refugee living in Britain and his peers listened. As he says in the speech, “I felt safe, I felt seen, I felt like I belonged. “
When Hussein first wrote his speech, his teacher sent him to me to read it. I was floored. I knew before he reached the end that I wanted others to hear this; I had to make a recording before he left my school in a matter of weeks. At first, Hussein didn’t want to appear in the film, and I suggested we asked friends in his class to read it for him so that the words were still heard. He liked that idea and very quickly we got permissions for pupils to be filmed. On the day, I wanted Hussein to be around the filming, and he was eager for his peers to get it right; he would coach them as they read his lines. Then half-way through the day he said to me maybe he would like to be in the film after all.
I was working with Felicity from Fledgling Education who was making the film for me. Felicity came up with these great ideas to film children making No Outsiders letters and hold them up at points in the film. She also insisted on every child reading chunks of the speech and getting a recording of Hussein reading all of it which she then used to edit later. There is a moment in the speech where Hussein says, “I am Hussein.” I wanted a “I am Spartacus” moment in the film where we heard all his friends saying that line, but I was worried it might look corny. Felicity knew exactly what she was doing to make it a key moment in the film and she also had the idea to have multiple children say other key lines together to give the impression this was everyone’s story.
The finished film was more than I hoped for. I’ve been sitting on it for two months waiting for the right time to make it public and I always knew I wanted to use Hannah Wilson and The Belonging Effect to launch it because I know that everyone reading this blog is going to be an ally; a friend.
The events that led me to decide to release the film were the footage of masked men closing down Dover port in protest about migrants and then the news of a village in Oxfordshire voting to remove themselves from England because they don’t want refugees housed near them. We are living in challenging times. I hope this short film gives pause for thought.
Andrew Moffat: www.no-outsiders.com
Fledgling Education offers a range of bespoke services, including filmmaking, curriculum consultancy and creative arts workshops. Felicity can be contacted at felicity@fledglingeducation.co.uk
Self Authorisation: What I Learned When Recognition Didn't Come

Written by Saiqua Hussain
Saiqua Hussain is a school leader and researcher passionate about supporting young women from global majority backgrounds into education and leadership. Her MA research (King's College London) explored how South Asian women build legitimacy as leaders in English secondary schools. She is a Trustee at a Grammar School and an elected member of the Chartered College of Teaching.
For a long time, people told me, kindly I think, that what I needed was more confidence. That if I just believed in myself a bit more, put myself forward a bit louder, the recognition would follow. I let that explanation sit for longer than I should have, because it was easier than the alternative. The truth was simpler and harder to say out loud: I already knew I was good. I was just as qualified, just as capable, often more prepared than colleagues who were moving ahead of me. I wasn’t missing self-belief. I was missing something else entirely, and it wasn’t mine to fix.
That question sat with me long enough that I eventually built a Master’s research study around it. How do South Asian women aspiring to headship, or in the early years of it, construct leadership identity and legitimacy in English secondary schools? Twelve headteachers and deputy headteachers later, what came back confirmed what I had lived. It wasn’t a confidence gap. It was a recognition gap.
Competent is not the same as recognised
One of the clearest findings to emerge was that competence, formal authority and recognised legitimacy are three different things, not one thing that automatically follows from the others. A woman could be highly competent and still not be seen as ready. She could hold a senior title and still find her authority wasn’t assumed the way a colleague’s was. Being right about your own ability isn’t the same as having that ability believed.
That’s what I’d been living without quite having the language for it. I did the work. I had the results. And still I found myself doing something extra that I don’t think my peers were doing. Building the evidence case before anyone asked me to. Saying yes to the harder, less visible tasks. Making sure there could be no question, because I already knew there would be a question anyway.
The women in my study described the same pattern in their own words. Some of it showed up as code switching, adapting how they presented themselves depending on the room, sometimes strategically, but sometimes protectively, to pre-empt being dismissed. And sometimes it meant quietly folding parts of themselves away, because the room hadn’t made space for the whole person. None of it was about building confidence. It was about surviving an environment that granted trust unevenly.
From waiting to be granted, to self authorisation
The most important thing the research gave me wasn’t a description of the problem though. It was a way through it. Leadership identity is often described as something you claim and others grant. You put yourself forward, and the people around you either recognise that claim or withhold it. What I found, repeatedly, was a third move that happens when that granting becomes too inconsistent to rely on: self-authorisation. At some point, the women I spoke with, and I recognise this in my own story too, stopped waiting for permission that wasn’t reliably coming, and started generating their own legitimacy from within.
I don’t think that’s an inspirational footnote. I think it’s a necessary adaptation to a system that hasn’t caught up, and it shouldn’t have to be necessary at all.
What I’d want other women to take from this
If you’ve been told your problem is confidence, and it hasn’t sat right with you, trust that instinct. You may not be missing belief in yourself. You may be doing accurate, clear-eyed work in an environment that hasn’t yet learned to see it without being made to look twice. Naming that correctly doesn’t undo the extra labour it’s cost you. But it means you stop trying to fix something in yourself that was never broken.
History’s Warning: Section 28 and the Fight for Future Educational Inclusion

Written by Dr Kayden J. Schumacher
Dr. Kayden J. Schumacher (they/he) is a Research Fellow at Coventry University working across all work packages on the Horizon Europe-funded YOUROPE project, which focuses on strengthening youth participation in European democracy, particularly among underrepresented groups. With a multidisciplinary background spanning psychology, education, health, and social policy, their work explores the intersections of mental health, physical wellbeing, gender diversity, and democratic participation across educational and community settings.
“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”
(Santayana, 1905, p. 284)
In 1988 the then Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher and her Conservative Government responded with a moral panic to a same-sex couple in children’s book taking things out of proportion and aiming to pass legislation known as Section 28 (Lee, 2019). Section 28 was part of the Local Government Act (1988) and on paper, it was framed as a safeguard against “promoting homosexuality” in schools. But, in reality, it was a direct state-sanctioned silencing of LGBTQ+ people, specifically students and educators. Passing Section 28 made it against the law for any local authority to “(a) intentionally promote homosexuality or publish material with the intention of promoting homosexuality; (b) promote the teaching in any maintained school of the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship” (Local Government Act, 1988).
Looking back, it is staggering to think that such a discriminatory law ostracising an already marginalised group could take root in a country of people who had just been through the AIDS epidemic, where “Silence=Death” (Kerr, 2017) was not just a protest slogan but a daily reality. The 1980s moral climate in the UK was steeped in fear and stigma. Tabloid headlines fuelled homophobia, framing LGBT+ people as a public threat (Collins, 2025; Lovelock, 2018). Thatcher’s government leaned into “traditional family values,” capitalising on public anxieties about social change (Somerville, 1992). The moral panic around LGBT+ visibility in schools was amplified by broader conservative backlash against feminist gains, multiculturalism and what was labelled “political correctness” (Baker, 2022; Duffy, 2025; Weeks, 1990). Conservative MPs used the rhetoric of “protecting children,” but what they were really protecting was cisheteronormative dominance.
Resistance to laws like Section 28 did exist, as it always has. In a now-iconic example, a group of lesbian activists broke into the BBC during the 6 o’clock live news broadcast to protest Section 28 and the harm of this legislation. Their message beamed into living rooms and pubs across the country and was widely noticed, but ultimately did not stop the law from passing, thereby cementing a culture of silence, bullying, and marginalisation in schools across England. For the next 15 years, Section 28 legitimised an environment where LGBT+ students and staff were erased, and where conversations about identity, consent, or healthy relationships could be construed as illegal. For trans and gender-diverse people, whose identities were barely recognised in mainstream discourse, the law meant complete erasure.
When I arrived in England in September 2022, the very day Queen Elizabeth II passed away, I was beginning a PhD exploring trans and gender-diverse experiences in English schools from 1988 to 2023. As someone who grew up in a small, homogeneous Catholic town in the US, hiding my pansexual and transgender identity for fear of backlash, I felt an immediate resonance with what my participants told me about their school years under Section 28. Their stories carried the same themes I had known of silence, shame, and the need to fragment oneself, being one person in school and another in private. But unlike my own experience, their marginalisation was explicitly legislated.
Even after Section 28’s repeal in England in 2003, my participants described school as having a sort of “shadow” of Section 28, where there was an institutionalised culture of cisheteronormativity that persisted in school structures, policies and everyday interactions, despite the repeal of the law. There were still rigid binaries enforced in areas like PE, sex education, toilets, and classrooms. Mental health was rarely openly discussed, LGBT+ teachers often concealed their identities and bodies were policed according to narrow norms without affirmation or recognition of diversity.
The 2010s gave the impression of progress. The Equality Act 2010 legally protected people against discrimination based on “sexual orientation” and “gender reassignment” (Equality Act, 2010, s.7). Ofsted began inspecting for homophobic bullying in 2012 (Ofsted, 2012). The first Trans Pride was held in Brighton in 2013 (McConnell, 2014). Same-sex marriage became legal in England and Wales in 2014, and media representation of trans people increased (BBC’s Boy Meets Girl, Lavern Cox on the Cover of Time, Jazz Jennings’ reality show), there was a perhaps naïve sense that visibility and policy change were working together to build a more inclusive future.
But if history teaches us anything, it is that progress is never linear. The current climate in the UK carries unsettling echoes of the past. Today the UK is seeing the re-emergence of very rigid gender binaries in public discourse, something that harms not only trans people, but everyone whose life does not neatly fit the “trad wife” (Bower, 2024) or “manosphere” (Ging, 2019) mould (More in Common, 2022). There is an increasing disregard for diversity across race, gender, sexual orientation, and religion. Emotional expression is again being boxed in with boys allowed anger but not vulnerability, and girls allowed fragility but not power. And while the internet boom was just beginning in the 1980s, it promised connection and organising for change, it is now equally capable of isolating, surveilling, and policing interactions, echoing Section 28’s original aim: control.
The slogan, “Silence = Death” (Kerr, 2017), born from AIDS activism, still echoes with urgent clarity. Then, it was a rallying cry against government inaction during a health crisis, now, it is a warning, a reminder, and a call to resist the erasure of trans and gender-diverse lives in education and beyond. My research traces these legacies through the stories of trans and gender-diverse students and educators, showing that the repeal of Section 28 did not erase its shadows and its repeal cannot undo systemic harm. Laws can change, but cultures of silence linger, shaping classrooms, policies, and hearts. Section 28 teaches us that silence harms the most marginalised first, but its ripples reach everyone. Representation without structural change leaves the door open for backlash. We must be vigilant: attentive to how quickly silence can return, how rigid binaries can reassert themselves, and how appeals to “protecting children” can be wielded as instruments of control.
The work before us in our democratic society, especially in education is quiet but urgent, we must name injustice where it festers, nurture spaces for complexity, and ensure that trans and gender-diverse students and educators never again endure the sanctioned invisibility that once passed for law. Visibility alone is not enough. Genuine inclusion demands action, care, and relentless attention so that the lessons of the past guide us, the voices of the present are heard, and the future is shaped by courage rather than fear, only then can we ensure we all have remembered the past and are not condemned to repeat it.
References
Baker, P. (2022). Outrageous!: The story of Section 28 and Britain’s battle for LGBT+
education. Reaktion Books.
Bower, L. J. (2024). The thorn in feminism’s side: black feminist reconceptualization and
defence of #tradwives and the #tradwife movement. Journal of Gender Studies, 1–17.
https://doi.org/10.1080/09589236.2024.2423198
Duffy, S. (2025). Moral panics and legal projects: echoes of Section 28 in United Kingdom
transgender discourse and law reform. Gender and Justice, 1(1), 78-99. Retrieved
Aug 15, 2025, from https://doi.org/10.1332/30333660Y2024D000000008
Equality Act 2010, s. 7. (2010). Legislation.gov.uk. Retrieved from
https://www.legislation.gov.uk/ukpga/2010/15/section/7
Ging, D. (2019). Alphas, betas, and incels: Theorizing the masculinities of the
manosphere. Men and masculinities, 22(4), 638-657.
Kerr, T. (2017 June 20). How Six NYC Activists Changed History With ‘Silence =
Death’. The Village Voice. https://www.villagevoice.com/how-six-nyc-activists changed-history-with-silence-death/
Lee, C. (2019). Fifteen years on: the legacy of section 28 for LGBT+ teachers in English
schools. Sex Education, 19(6), 675–690.
https://doi.org/10.1080/14681811.2019.1585800
Local Government Act 1988, c. 9, s. 28. (1988). Legislation.gov.uk. Retrieved from
https://www.legislation.gov.uk/ukpga/1988/9/section/28
Lovelock, M. (2018). Sex, death and austerity: resurgent homophobia in the British tabloid
press. Critical Studies in Media Communication, 35(3), 225-239.
McConnell, F. (2014, September 8). Trans Pride Brighton defines key year for emerging
community. The Guardian. Retrieved from
https://www.theguardian.com/society/2014/sep/08/-sp-trans-pride-brighton-lgbt-equality
More in Common UK. (2022). Britons and gender identity: Navigating common ground and
Collins, M. (2025). “Gays in Your Living Room”: LGBTQ+ television, homophobia, and the
birth of Channel 4 in 1980s Britain. Journalism History, 51(1), 5-23.
Ofsted. (2012). School inspection handbook: handbook for inspecting schools in England
under section 5 of the Education Act 2005 (as amended) from September 2012.
Somerville J. (1992). The New Right and family politics. Economy and society, 21(2), 93
Weeks, J. (1990). Coming Out: Homosexual Politics in Britain from the Nineteenth Century
to the Present. Quartet Books.
The Hidden Curriculum of Belonging

Written by Lorraine Kara
Early Years consultant, author and founder of Belonging in Practice. Leadership, Culture, Inclusion, Belonging.
Every nursery and school has two curriculums.
The first is the one we carefully plan.
The second is the one children experience.
The second curriculum is often the most powerful.
Children are constantly learning – not only through the activities we prepare, but through the relationships they observe, the words they hear and the way adults respond when emotions run high.
This is the hidden curriculum of belonging.
A reflection from practice
Recently, I witnessed an interaction at a school that stayed with me. A child was visibly distressed and crying while an adult, who also appeared emotionally overwhelmed, responded in a raised and angry tone. Other adults stepped in to help calm the situation.
As I watched, I found myself thinking less about behaviour management and more about what the child might have been learning in that moment.
Not mathematics. Not phonics. Not literacy.
Instead, perhaps the child was learning: “When I am overwhelmed, adults become overwhelmed too.” Or: “My feelings are too much.” Or even: “When I struggle, I may be publicly corrected rather than helped.”
None of those messages may have been intended. But intention and impact are not always the same. The experience a child has in a difficult moment can become part of the hidden curriculum they carry with them.
The curriculum we never write down
Children notice far more than the content of our planning. They notice how adults speak to one another, how mistakes are handled, whose voice is listened to, whether differences are respected and whether emotions are met with curiosity or punishment.
No curriculum document includes a learning intention that says, “Children will learn whether adults lose control.” Yet children learn this every day.
They also learn whether adults apologise, whether relationships can be repaired, whether behaviour is treated as communication and whether they remain worthy of care when they are having a difficult moment.
This is why the hidden curriculum matters. It quietly teaches children what power looks like, what safety feels like and whether belonging is conditional.
Belonging is experienced through relationships
Early childhood development is profoundly relational. Bronfenbrenner’s ecological view of development reminds us that children grow within interconnected systems of relationships and environments. Gerhardt’s work similarly draws attention to the importance of early relational experiences for emotional development.
When adults remain calm enough to help children regulate, children gradually learn that difficult feelings can be survived. When adults model empathy, children experience empathy. When adults repair after a rupture, children learn that relationships can be restored.
Belonging is therefore not created by a display board alone. It is experienced when a child discovers: “Even when I struggle, I still have a place here.”
What does this mean for educators?
The hidden curriculum invites us to look beyond what we planned and ask what children actually experienced.
- What did my tone communicate?
- Did my response preserve the child’s dignity?
- Was I regulated enough to help the child regulate?
- Did I respond to behaviour only, or did I remain curious about what might be underneath it?
- If I got it wrong, did I repair the relationship?
This does not mean educators must be perfect. Early Years work is emotionally demanding and adults will have difficult moments too. It does mean that reflective practice must include the adult’s emotional state, not only the child’s behaviour.
The leadership responsibility
This is also a leadership issue. If staff are expected to co-regulate children, they need cultures that support their own regulation and reflection.
Leaders can strengthen this by creating psychologically safe supervision, modelling calm responses, allowing staff to ask for help, discussing difficult interactions without humiliation and treating repair as part of professional practice rather than evidence of failure.
The culture adults experience becomes part of the culture children experience. In that sense, workforce wellbeing, leadership behaviour and children’s belonging cannot be separated.
Reflection questions
- What are children learning from the way adults respond when things go wrong?
- Who receives patience in our setting – and who receives correction?
- Do our behaviour approaches preserve children’s dignity?
- Do staff feel safe enough to say, ‘I did not handle that well’?
- What do our routines, relationships and reactions teach children about who belongs?
Read, reflect and act
This week, observe one interaction rather than one activity.
Ask yourself: What was the child learning about themselves, about adults and about belonging in that moment?
Sometimes the most important lesson was never written on the planning sheet.
Final reflection
Belonging is not only built in our easiest moments. It is revealed in our hardest ones.
Children may forget the activity we planned, but they can remember how an adult made them feel. Our responsibility is not to offer perfection. It is to keep reflecting, repairing and creating environments where children feel emotionally safe, seen and valued.
Perhaps the most powerful curriculum we offer children is not simply what we teach, but who we are while we are teaching it.
References
Bronfenbrenner, U. (1979) The Ecology of Human Development: Experiments by Nature and Design. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Edmondson, A.C. (2019) The Fearless Organization: Creating Psychological Safety in the Workplace for Learning, Innovation, and Growth. Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley & Sons.
Gerhardt, S. (2015) Why Love Matters: How Affection Shapes a Baby’s Brain. 2nd edn. London: Routledge.
National Scientific Council on the Developing Child (2004/2020) Young Children Develop in an Environment of Relationships. Working Paper No. 1. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University.
Rinaldi, C. (2006) In Dialogue with Reggio Emilia: Listening, Researching and Learning. London: Routledge.
Siegel, D.J. and Bryson, T.P. (2011) The Whole-Brain Child. London: Constable & Robinson.
