Why schools need to address anti-LGBT bullying
Written by Eleanor Formby
Eleanor Formby (she/her) is Professor of Sociology and Youth Studies at Sheffield Hallam University, UK. She has 25 years’ experience in (predominantly qualitative) social research and evaluation, and for nearly 20 years her work has focussed on the life experiences of LGBT+ people. Eleanor has written numerous articles in these areas and is the author of Exploring LGBT spaces and communities.
Next month will see Anti-Bullying Week (November 10-14), and Sheffield Hallam University research highlights that lesbian, gay, bisexual and trans (LGBT) young people are still at risk of being bullied at school.
The study is the largest of its kind ever conducted in England, with over 61,000 pupils and staff from 853 schools taking part. It focused specifically on homophobic, biphobic and transphobic (HBT) bullying—i.e. that directed at people because of their actual or assumed sexual or gender identity—and on LGBT inclusion in schools.
It’s often assumed that ‘progress’—thinking particularly about LGBT rights—is a steady march forward, and to be fair, the past 25 years have seen significant changes for LGBT people in the UK. In 2015, the UK was ranked number one on the ILGA-Europe rainbow map, which rates 49 European countries on the basis of laws and policies that directly impact on LGBT people’s human rights. Around the same time, the UK government invested over £6 million in efforts to prevent and respond to HBT bullying in schools, which included our research. The year our research finished, the Government announced that relationships and sex education (RSE) would become compulsory in English secondary schools—and that it should include LGBT content. For a while, there was reason to feel cautiously optimistic.
But things began to change.
Despite commissioning our research, the Conservative government delayed releasing the findings for five years—an unprecedented move. The study was only published after a change in government.
During this period, rhetoric from the government became increasingly hostile, particularly towards trans people. In April 2025, a high-profile supreme court ruling on gender was followed by a controversial ‘interim update’ from the Equality and Human Rights Commission. In the 2025 ILGA-Europe rainbow map the UK dropped to 22nd place—we’re now the second worst country for LGBT-related laws in Western Europe and Scandinavia.
Recently the government has also revised its guidance on RSE, with reduced references to trans people (just once in a subheading). It explicitly states that schools “should not teach as fact that all people have a gender identity”, and “should avoid materials that… encourage pupils to question their gender”. This language echoes Section 28—the infamous law that, until 2003, banned local authorities from “promoting homosexuality” and prevented schools from teaching the “acceptability of homosexuality”.
Against this backdrop, a new book demonstrates that HBT (homophobic, biphobic and transphobic) bullying is still happening—but also that schools can make a difference.
Our findings show that many schools respond to bullying after it happens, rather than trying to prevent it in the first place. In primary schools, efforts often focus on educating children about inappropriate language. Fewer schools are embedding HBT bullying prevention within everyday teaching, or in visible displays in school.
Where LGBT inclusion is happening, it often takes place in assemblies, or sometimes in secondary schools during PSHE (personal, social, health and economic education) lessons, or in ‘drop-down days’ when normal lessons are suspended. In some primary schools, specific books are used.
There are also barriers, for example a lack of time and staff capacity available in schools, and a lack of funding to invest in resources, facilities or training to help do this work well. Some staff don’t feel supported by school leadership. Others worry about complaints from parents or uncertainty about what’s ‘age appropriate’. In the current context, these concerns and associated lack of confidence are likely to grow.
But when schools get it right, there is real impact, for instance LGBT pupils—and those with LGBT family members—feel safer and more understood. Others feel more able to ask questions about issues that confuse or concern them.
This is why it’s so concerning that the UK seems to be moving backwards. Instead of helping schools create more inclusive environments, recent guidance—and arguably the suppression of important research—risk making things worse for LGBT young people, and those with LGBT family members. Teachers are left uncertain about what they’re allowed to say or teach, and pupils may feel more isolated.
It’s difficult to understand why any government would risk children and young people’s wellbeing in this way.
As we prepare to mark Anti-Bullying Week, it’s important to remember that (to borrow from previous policy, seemingly long-forgotten) every child matters—and deserves to feel safe and included, so schools need to address anti-LGBT bullying. To make that a reality, we need to support schools—not leave them uncertain or under-resourced.
Why Intersectionality is the Future of ERGs
Written by Matthew Page
Intersectionality and Identity Consultant | Trustee at The Fostering Network | Transformative Coach | Speaker | Award Winning Lived Care Experienced Leader | Doggie Dad
In today’s dynamic and sometimes challenging landscape, the conversations around diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) have never been more critical. We’re seeing a shift, a recalibration, and in some corners, even a fear of engaging with DEI initiatives. Yet, it’s precisely in this environment that the power of Employee Resource Groups (ERGs) becomes even more pronounced. However, if ERGs are to truly thrive and deliver on their promise, they must embrace a crucial concept: intersectionality.
For too long, ERGs have often operated in silos. We have a Women’s ERG, a BAME (Black, Asian, and Minority Ethnic) ERG, an LGBTQ+ ERG, a Disability ERG, and so forth. Each group does incredibly important work within its specific remit, advocating for its members and fostering a sense of community. But imagine the amplified impact if these groups, rather than standing alone, could discover their shared struggles and collective strengths.
This is where intersectionality isn’t just a buzzword; it’s the glue. It’s the understanding that individuals hold multiple identities that intersect and overlap, creating unique experiences of both privilege and disadvantage. The term was originally coined by American legal scholar Kimberlé Crenshaw in 1989. She used it to highlight the “double discrimination” faced by Black women, who often experienced both racism and sexism but found that the legal system at the time couldn’t address the combined effects of the two.
My work is all about introducing people to this basic, yet profoundly powerful, principle. I help ERGs recognise that while their specific focus is vital, there are countless threads that connect them. When a Women’s ERG and a BAME ERG realise they are both fighting for equitable pay, or when a Disability ERG and an LGBTQ+ ERG discover shared ground in advocating for inclusive language, that’s when the magic happens.
Pulling various ERGs together through the power of intersectionality is something I’m seeing time and time again, and it’s truly powerful in the current climate. We should all be working and fighting the cause in a much more united way, shouldn’t we? This collective approach not only strengthens the impact of each individual ERG but also fosters a more inclusive and understanding workplace culture for everyone. It moves us beyond a ‘them and us’ mentality towards a ‘we’ that is far more resilient and effective.
My journey to understanding the profound importance of identity and belonging began in a very personal way. Growing up in foster care, I had no real sense of my own identity. I was told my father, whom I had never met, was from Jamaica, which was the extent of my knowledge about my roots. It wasn’t until I took part in the TV show DNA Family Secrets that my world truly opened up. The show discovered that my family actually originated from the Seychelles – a revelation that completely shifted my understanding of who I am and where I come from. This personal experience of uncovering my intersecting identities, and the sense of belonging it brought, deeply informs my passion for helping others find theirs within organisations.
I have the privilege of working with fantastic organisations like NatWest, Transport for London, and the British Transport Police, guiding their ERGs through this journey. We explore how to break down those silos, build bridges between groups, and harness the collective power of their diverse members. The results are not just theoretical; they are tangible shifts towards more unified advocacy, greater mutual support, and a more robust, future-proof approach to DEI.
Intersectionality isn’t just the future of ERGs; it’s the pathway to a more inclusive, empathetic, and ultimately, a more effective workplace for all. Let’s unite, understand, and empower one another.
Rethinking Normality in Uncertain Times
Written by Rachida Dahman
Rachida Dahman is an international educator, a language and literature teacher, and an educational innovator. She started her career in Germany as a teacher trainer advocating the importance of relationships above academics. She then moved to Luxembourg where she teaches German language and literature classes to middle and high school students. She is an award-winning poet, co-author of the best-selling book, ATLAS DER ENTSCHEIDER Entscheiden wie die Profis- Dynamik, Komplexität und Stress meistern.
In the unique context of international schools, where educators and students navigate diverse cultures, languages, and constantly shifting global realities, the idea of “normality” becomes especially complex and fluid. Normality is a cultural construct, constantly reinforced by politics, media, and rituals, not a natural state that we are pulled out of and then simply fall back into once circumstances allow. I was recently asked how, in the midst of today’s wars and crises, one can possibly “restore normality” and how teachers, who are confronted with this longing for stability every day, can take such a demand seriously.
What we call normality in everyday life and leisure is itself an artifact. Politics, talk shows, and public rituals generate their own images of normality. Here lies the danger of what might be called a ”normalization conservatism”: a desire to return to an imagined state of stability. Yet normality cannot be simply retrieved. It is manufactured with all the means of artifice.
And so the real problem shifts. The issue is not the absence of normality, but the attempt to reproduce it artificially. This attempt is carried by a strange mixture of fear and arrogance: fear of the unpredictability of the present and arrogance in believing that politics, media, or public speech could create a truly stable foundation. The result is an echo of rituals, slogans, and symbols that produce the appearance of security, without offering real orientation.
What often goes unnoticed is that tensions persist even beneath these efforts. In education, for example, teachers may feel the impulse to fit students into neat frameworks, an attempt to create order and stability. But such frameworks can quickly become another burden of responsibility, placing conformity above growth. If we give in to this impulse too often, we risk reaching a dead end, both our own creativity and that of our students may be abruptly set aside when the next societal or political storm arrives.
Normality, then, is not a return but always a creation. It does not emerge from artifacts, from the decorative gestures of politics, or from the ritualized dramaturgy of talk shows. It arises in the concrete ways we speak with one another, work together, and share responsibility. As a teacher, this means I cannot give my students normality. But I can create spaces where openness, uncertainty, and incompleteness have a place. Precisely because we are sometimes surrounded by fear and arrogance, we must learn that normality does not grow out of incantation, it grows out of practice.
- Specific classroom strategies that create space for uncertainty, agency, or open-ended outcomes.
The royal road to practice lies in learning to hold uncertainties, to walk through them with students, and to live them rather than escape them. This requires a healthy rhythm between individual and group work, staying with themes long enough for them to unfold, and deliberately extending the passages of our interactions. Such practices are not simply pedagogical choices, they are acts of resilience.
Again and again, students emerge in our classrooms who appear to falter, whose productivity declines, or who withdraw across different subjects. Dominant opinion often interprets this as laziness, distraction, or failure. Yet what if such moments are signals, pointing to something deeper, a crisis of orientation, a struggle with culture, or an unresolved question of identity? Many students’ identities are inseparable from their artistic identity. The way they make sense of the world is through creative exploration, improvisation, or resistance to rigid forms. To dismiss their “lostness” is to miss the chance to witness identity in the making.
This is especially visible in international classrooms, where cultural displacement and multilingual realities amplify the experience of being “lost.” Students navigate between home and host cultures, between different languages, and between competing expectations of success. Their sense of orientation may collapse under these pressures. But often, it is precisely in their artistic or non-linear responses in music, storytelling, visual projects, or collaborative improvisation that they begin to negotiate belonging and articulate identity. Teachers who recognize this see disengagement not as absence, but as the raw material of presence.
Practical strategies for teachers and school leaders:
- Invite multiple modes of response. Allow students to express their understanding not only in writing or tests, but through drawing, movement, dialogue, or digital creation.
- Stay with the “lost” moment. Instead of rushing to correct or redirect, ask reflective questions: What feels unclear? How does this connect to your experience? This validates disorientation as part of learning.
- Normalize cultural reflection. When productivity drops, explore whether it relates to questions of belonging or cultural dissonance. Invite students to connect class themes with their lived realities.
- Value artistic identities. Encourage students who process through music, art, or performance to bring those forms into academic spaces. In doing so, schools acknowledge that intellectual and artistic identities are often inseparable.
- Hold open-ended outcomes. Frame tasks where the goal is not a single right answer, but exploration and meaning-making. This helps students see “lostness” as an entry point into dialogue, not as failure.
For we and our students are no longer confronted merely with crises but, in some cases, with their full collapse, coming at us in ever shorter intervals. This is why education cannot content itself with rituals of stability or the repetition of normality. To face collapse together means cultivating classrooms where uncertainty is not feared but explored, where trust outweighs control, and where collaboration becomes stronger than competition. Schools that dare to do this resist the conspiracy of appearances make visible a different kind of strength: not the fragile stability of order imposed, but the durable stability that grows when responsibility is shared, when openness is lived, and when the courage to learn is greater than the fear of loss.
2. Examples of school policies or leadership decisions that actively disrupt traditional norms in service of deeper collaboration and equity.
School leaders must learn to operate in settings that are far from a neatly swept house. Crises bring with them heightened psychological reactions, and when class sizes are too large, these reactions are often funneled into a vacuum, where learning, creativity, and engagement wither. Smaller classes are therefore a crucial condition for sustaining real interaction and meaningful reflection.
In such an environment, leaders do not impose superficial order; they cultivate spaces where uncertainty can be navigated, where students’ emotional and cognitive responses are recognized, and where teachers and leaders alike learn to stay with complexity rather than erase it. It is precisely this tension between unpredictability and deliberate guidance that allows classrooms and schools to become laboratories for resilience, collaboration, and shared responsibility.
3. Illustrations of how collaboration with other schools or nontraditional partners have tangibly reshaped practice, mindset, or outcomes.
Partnering with neighboring schools to exchange teaching resources, working with local NGOs or universities to ground projects in real-world issues, and engaging with artists, entrepreneurs, or community leaders can dramatically expand what counts as educational expertise. But these partnerships are not only about content or skill-sharing: they are spaces to gather experience, to encounter moments where emotions surface, and to practice navigating uncertainty together.
In the face of unprecedented crises that often bring destruction and disorder, such collaborations create rare opportunities to learn resilience, empathy, and adaptive problem-solving. By intentionally engaging in these exchanges, educators and students alike confront challenges that cannot be fully simulated in traditional classrooms. They experience firsthand how to act, respond, and reflect when circumstances are unpredictable, complex, and emotionally charged.
4. Practical alternatives to standard rituals, such as how grading might be approached differently, or how assemblies can be reimagined to reflect openness and inclusivity.
Many teachers experience a chill down their spine when so-called assemblies run like clockwork, sanitized and rigid, and disconnected from the lived realities of students. This subversive view of rituals challenges the assumption that standard assemblies and classroom routines are neutral or harmless. In fact, such rituals can produce psychological strain, particularly when they clash with students’ attention spans, motivation, or digital habits. Traditional timetables and fixed hours are not merely organizational tools, they are deeply pedagogical structures; if they do not fit the learners, the potential for growth collapses.
In response, assessment and classroom practices must be reimagined. Exams and grading are no longer merely measures of performance, but opportunities to engage students in democratic processes, critical reflection, and the creation of meaning. Flexible, collaborative settings allow learners to grapple with texts, ideas, and questions in ways that cultivate agency and resilience. Assemblies, too, can be transformed into forums where students and staff co-construct agendas, share inquiries, and participate in discussions that matter, fostering inclusion and shared responsibility.
Importantly, this approach integrates the realities of crises overload, digital distractions, and emotional stress directly into the design of teaching and ritual. By doing so, schools create spaces that do not simply simulate “normality,” but actively cultivate engagement, critical thinking, and emotional competence, even amidst disruption.
I have come to see that what often presents itself as normality is a kind of conspiracy: a fragile arrangement of fear and arrogance that pretends to provide stability while suppressing creativity, trust, and resilience. Observing how leadership constrained by competition and territoriality can limit possibilities, I realized that ideas flourish only when shared openly. This insight became a compass; true leadership requires courage, openness, and collaboration beyond conventional boundaries. In practice, this means designing lessons with open-ended outcomes, rethinking rituals like grading and assemblies, giving students real agency, and creating spaces for reflection and shared responsibility. Normality is not a return to order it is a creation, emerging from daily practices of trust, courage, and collaboration. And so the question is: in times of crisis, do we cling to artificial rituals of stability, or do we dare to create spaces where something genuinely new can emerge?
Inter Faith Week
Written by Sarah Bareau
Regional Advisor with Jigsaw Education Group. Primary teacher and RE Lead.
Inter Faith Week takes place annually in November and many places of worship open their doors to the wider public. But what does ‘interfaith’ actually mean and is there a place for it in our schools?
Interfaith refers to encounters that aim to increase understanding between people of different faith groups. Whilst the term ‘faith’ implies religious belief, interfaith is increasingly inclusive of those with non-religious worldviews.
Interfaith work supports many schools’ values, especially those that are centred on empathy, kindness, community or diversity. It’s an opportunity to enrich pupils’ cultural capital and personal development: by learning about the beliefs and traditions of others, we better understand and refine our personal worldview.
This year’s theme is ‘Community: Together We Serve’. Community is always at the heart of Inter Faith Week and our schools are communities too – including staff, pupils and their families. Interfaith activities provide opportunities to explore a wider range of worldviews than the standard RE curriculum allows. They can be both a mirror to reflect pupils who are under-represented and a window through which to encounter unfamiliar beliefs and lived experiences.
One starting point is investigating census data relating to religion. As well as looking at recent statistics, consider previous years and what they might look like in the future. For example, currently 6% of the UK population identifies as Muslim, but this rises to 10% in the 5-15 age range (source: https://mcb.org.uk/resources/censussummary2025/).
Service is also an integral part of this year’s theme. Each year, Inter Faith Week takes place just before Mitzvah Day, a Jewish-led day of social action, which now includes people of all faiths and none. The original meaning of ‘Mitzvah’ is a commandment from God. It has also come to mean an action to carry out the commandment, doing good and helping others. This contributes to Tikkun Olam (repair of the world), which comes from an early Jewish code called the Mishnah.
This year’s theme could inspire you to explore practices rooted in service across diverse worldviews e.g. Sewa (in Sikhi and Sanatana (Hindu) Dharma) and Zakat (in Islam). You could look at examples from religious texts, such as Jesus washing the feet of his disciples at the Last Supper, and non-religious stories, such as The Starfish Thrower, thinking about how these might inspire people’s actions today.
What are the challenges of interfaith encounters?
The most meaningful interfaith work includes holding challenging conversations around areas of disagreement. This needs to happen within a safe space, where participants show respect to those with a different point of view. It is important to ensure such interactions end with repair and reconnection. This could be achieved by returning to shared values and acknowledging each person’s identity beyond their religious or non-religious beliefs.
It can also be challenging to find authentic representation of different faiths when the school or local community is not diverse. See if there is an existing interfaith group in the area, reach out to local RE advisors and explore online resources such as the RE Hubs website.
Planning meaningful interfaith work in schools
Contact theory (or contact hypothesis) was proposed by Gordon Allport in 1954 and continues to be used to facilitate encounters between members of different social and cultural groups, with the goal of increasing understanding between them. There are four key features of effective practice:
- Equal status of participants
In the classroom, this includes setting expectations for respectful curiosity and recognition that everyone has their own identity and point of view, whether that is informed by a religious or non-religious worldview or not.
- A common goal
Effective interfaith work has an intended outcome. It’s an opportunity to draw together learning about different worldviews under a theme, allowing differences of beliefs and practices to be acknowledged within a shared context. Outcomes could include artwork, creative writing, oral presentations or action such as fundraising or litter picking.
- Intergroup cooperation
Collaboration and cooperation are essential life skills. Groupings for interfaith experiences should ensure that young people work with those from different backgrounds to achieve together. Depending on the age of pupils, varying levels of adult support may be needed to ensure all members of the group are able to participate and succeed.
- Support of authority beyond the group
Inviting the Head Teacher, a member of SLT or a governor to take part in the session or speak to young people afterwards demonstrates how the school values interfaith work. Young people could also present their experiences and learning to other year groups or to parents.
Just as schools embed anti-bullying work year-round, so too can interfaith become a regular part of the curriculum. In addition to Inter Faith Week, opportunities include World Religion Day in January, and festivals celebrated by communities represented in the school and local area.
Further resources
Jigsaw Education Group are please to share free resources to help your school engage in Inter Faith Week. Visit our website for more information: https://jigsaweducationgroup.com/resources/
For additional resources for schools, visit https://www.ifw4schools.co.uk/
More information about Mitzvah Day can be found here: https://mitzvahday.org.uk/
The census data for England and Wales from 2021 can be found here: https://www.ons.gov.uk/peoplepopulationandcommunity/culturalidentity/religion/bulletins/religionenglandandwales/census2021
Disagreeing Well in The Age of Disconnect
Written by Dr Lalith Wijedoru
Dr Lalith Wijedoru loves stories with impact. He is a coach, public speaker, and facilitator who harnesses the connecting power of stories to improve social health and emotional wellbeing. In his former career as an NHS consultant paediatrician in emergency medicine, he was part of multiple national award-winning teams in staff engagement using this storytelling approach. Lalith's storytelling consultancy Behind Your Mask now supports employees across multiple work sectors including tech, law, finance, education, healthcare, and the arts.
It’s the interview question that every medical school applicant is expecting to be asked: “Why do you want to be a doctor?” All around the world, aspiring doctors like me somehow managed to say in one way or another: “I want to help people.” Thankfully, University College London (UCL) Medical School gave me the chance to prove it.
As a paediatrician, I played a crucial role in the health of children by providing treatment, preventing disease and injury, and advocating for them. My medical training made me well-versed in the interplay between mind (mental health) and body (physical health).
The coronavirus pandemic was a tsunami that swept disconnect across the planet. Restrictions on our movement outside the home with limited exercise affected all of our physical health. The seismic shift to online working and video conferencing affected our mental health. For me, the biggest impact was social distancing. That had a detrimental effect on our social health.
Social health is our ability to form and maintain positive relationships: those which are healthy and meaningful. Relationships can be with friends, neighbours, and our work colleagues. Our physical, emotional, and spiritual wellbeing depend on strong social bonds with others. Social distancing and remote working threatened our ability and need to deepen human connections.
When we say ‘find your tribe’, we are harking back to our animal ancestors who recognized there was great safety in surrounding ourselves with those who looked and acted like you. Things that were different represented danger, a potential threat. Xenophobia has clear evolutionary roots linked to survival. There is a sense of unity and belonging when you surround yourself with people who share facets of your identity. People who get you in some way. Others who understand you.
Our modern world has become far less segregated than the rest of the animal kingdom. The diversity that has always been there now, for the most part, co-exists in far closer proximity with far greater visibility than ever before. Social connectivity is far from homogenous, but for all the benefits of living in a diverse community, it comes with its challenges.
Diversity is not just in the more obvious visual protected characteristics of ethnicity, gender, or age. It also means diversity of thought, opinion, and belief. With that comes the potential for clash, conflict, and disconnect. So how can we cultivate meaningful relationships in a world that is disconnected ideologically and politically whilst connected digitally?
The vitriol that is not uncommonly seen on social media, the emotional and physical hostility that plays out in protests and counter-protests, and the division that is preached by certain political leaders all fan the flames of discontent, disagreement, and disconnect. People screaming their opinions at each other without consideration to what someone else has to say. Putting fingers in their ears while reciting ‘la-la-la-la’ to block out alternative views. We live in an age of not listening.
I love my alma mater for many things, but in the decades since graduating I am particularly proud of one of its recent initiatives. A campaign called Disagreeing Well. It includes a public panel discussion series, a podcast called The Bridge, and online courses on critical thinking for diverse communities where conflicting opinions and ideas exist and are expressed.
One of the things I learned from the campaign’s public series was the concept of epistemic humility. Being humble with your assumptions about your own knowledge. Recognizing that your understanding of the world is incomplete. Aware that as a consequence, you may not perceive things as clearly as you think you do.
One of the skills to promote disagreeing well is to listen carefully to each other. Listen with the intention to truly understand someone’s lived experience. Listen not with the intention to reply, fix, or criticize. My storytelling consultancy was born out of a time of great disconnect. I strive to create spaces and opportunities for us to truly listen to each other. To listen to our true, personal stories without interruption, without fear of judgment or reprimand or insult.
So what would my medical school interviewee-self think of the doctor I became? I may not be helping paediatric patients and their families with their physical and mental health anymore, but I am certainly helping people with their social health. Stories have the power to educate, engage, and inspire. One of the powers of stories that I like the most are their powers to connect. We can agree to disagree, but through stories we can kickstart respectful conversations that inevitably lead us to find the things that we do agree on. And that can only be a good thing for diversity.
The Importance of Accessibility in Schools for Pupils and Staff
Written by Steve Morley
Stephen Morley, (He, Him). Member, The Institute for Equity. Member, International Association of Accessibility Professionals.
Accessibility in schools is more than just ramps, lifts, or larger print—it’s about ensuring that every pupil and staff member has equal opportunities to learn, teach, and thrive. An accessible environment removes barriers, both physical and digital, and fosters inclusion across the entire school community.
For pupils, accessibility means being able to participate fully in lessons, activities, and social life. Whether through assistive technology, adapted resources, or thoughtful classroom design, accessibility helps ensure that no child is left behind. It gives every student the confidence to contribute, grow, and succeed.
Recently my team and I carried out one of our accessibility building audits at the amazing The King’s School, Canterbury.
It was a pleasure to welcome a new member to our accessibility audit team in Abi James-Miller
Abi brought her lived experience as a visually impaired person and provided considerable insights into utilising AI and innovative technology to enhance the teaching and learning experience in schools and colleges.
Together with our regular team member Bryan, who is a wheelchair user, we were made incredibly welcome as we visited this wonderful historic school.
It is brilliant to see Kings so engaged in striving for inclusion. Working with us to identify barriers, physical, sensory, and physiological and ensuring that pupils, and visitors are made welcome and feel included.
For staff, accessibility matters just as much. Teachers and support staff who face barriers—whether due to mobility, hearing, vision, or neurodiversity—need inclusive workplaces that allow them to perform at their best. This not only supports their wellbeing but also enriches the school by valuing diverse perspectives and talents.
Ultimately, accessibility benefits everyone. When schools commit to designing inclusive environments, they create cultures of empathy, respect, and fairness. This isn’t just about compliance with regulations—it’s about building communities where everyone belongs and has the chance to reach their potential.
Whose Values Are They Anyway?
Written by Adrian McLean
Ambassador of Character, Executive Headteacher, TEDx Speaker, BE Associate Trainer & Coach, Governors for Schools Trustee, Positive Disruptor
This blog is based on a provocation I gave to the Practical Wisdom Network to the question of “Whose values are they anyway?” I approach the provocation through the character lens of practical wisdom.
Walk into any school or scroll through a Multi-Academy Trust’s website, and you’ll see them: Respect, Aspiration, Ambition, Integrity, Courage. Neatly framed, laminated and polished like a branding exercise.
But a question should haunt us: Whose values are they anyway? Who decided that these specific words should shape the daily culture, decisions and futures of an entire community? To answer this, we need to understand the difference between values and virtues and, most importantly, the practice of practical wisdom.
Practical wisdom isn’t just book smarts; it’s life smarts. It’s the ability to do the right thing, at the right time, in the right way, balancing rules with humanity. It’s the skill of making good decisions in messy, real-life situations – choosing what’s good, right, and true, not just what the rulebook says.
Values are the principles we declare we hold, like claiming to value our health. But virtues are the habits that make those values real. If health is the value, then virtues like self-discipline, perseverance, and temperance are what turn it into a daily practice. Self-discipline is choosing a walk over crashing out on the sofa; perseverance is showing up to the gym on the days you just don’t feel like it; temperance is enjoying food without swinging into excess. Put simply: values are what we say, but virtues are how we live, especially when it’s difficult.
Who Decides?
In practice, values are almost always handed down. A trust board. A group of senior leaders. Sometimes, one headteacher with a vision. But how often do we invite students, families, or associate staff into the process? How often do we open the doors to the community whose children will live with the weight of these words? Too rarely. Values are often written in a room by people who will not face their consequences. If that doesn’t unsettle us, it should.
Take, for example, “British Values.” They didn’t emerge from a national conversation; they were written into statutory guidance in 2014 following the “Trojan Horse” affair in Birmingham schools; a moment laced with political anxiety about extremism, identity and belonging. They were less the fruit of civic reflection and more a defensive assertion of national identity.
When one-size-fits-all national values are imposed on a plural, multicultural nation, the risk is that they flatten nuance and erase lived realities.
- What does “democracy” mean to a young person who has never seen their community represented in positions of power?
- What does “rule of law” mean to families who feel over-policed yet under-protected?
- What does “individual liberty” mean when opportunity is unevenly distributed and discrimination silently closes doors?
- What does “mutual respect and tolerance” mean when some identities are merely “put up with” (not representing the true meaning of tolerance), not celebrated or centred?
From a DEIB perspective, this is not neutral ground. British values often land less like a common commitment and more like a top-down script. Practical wisdom reminds us that to live well in community is not about repeating someone else’s script but cultivating the virtues to navigate complexity, difference and difficulty with integrity.
Values vs. Virtue
Aristotle taught that true flourishing wasn’t about abstract ideals but about virtues embodied in practice. As philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre notes, a value on the wall is just a word. A virtue lived out is a habit formed through struggle and character.
Integrity isn’t a poster; it’s the painful choice to tell the truth when it would be easier to conceal it. Empathy isn’t a slogan; it’s the practiced attention to the quiet child in the back row who carries the weight of the world. Without virtuous practice, values are just advertising, not meaning.
What’s Good, Right, and True?
Schools often claim they are places where children learn what is good, right, and true. But these words are slippery. What counts as good for one community may not for another. What is right in an affluent suburb may not be in a town hollowed out by unemployment. And truth, let’s be honest, is never neutral. Curricula are choices. Discipline policies are choices. Definitions of success are choices. Those choices reflect particular cultural and political traditions, not universal truths.
This is why DEIB cannot be an “add-on.” If our values exclude or silence the lived experiences of children from different racial, cultural, religious, or socioeconomic backgrounds, they are not values. They are exclusions dressed up in nice fonts. Belonging is not assimilation into someone else’s values; it is co-creating values that are genuinely shared.
Flourishing. Defined by Whom?
Too often, the system narrows flourishing to one measure: exam results. Grades are the currency of human worth, but here’s the paradox: the system itself is designed to prevent everyone from “succeeding.” Significant numbers of children will always be labelled “below standard” because that’s how exams are normed. The Department for Education’s media guidance is instructive:
- If results go up, its proof policy has raised standards.
- If results go down, its proof policy has raised standards.
A neat trick. But let’s be clear: nobody becomes better at maths simply by sitting a harder paper, especially if they ‘fail’ it. Yet this is the frame in which “flourishing” gets defined: harder benchmarks, narrower outcomes, national straplines.
So if flourishing is defined only by grades, or boxed into compliance with a centrally imposed set of British values, then flourishing is not about children at all. It is about alignment and fitting in. It is about living up to someone else’s story of what counts as good, right, and true.
That is not flourishing. That is conformity.
Pathways for Co-Creation
So, what is the alternative? Practical wisdom points us toward a different path:
- Co-creation with communities: Values forged through dialogue with students, parents, staff, and local voices; not handed down as final.
- Virtue in practice: Schools embedding habits of integrity, courage, empathy, and service in daily routines and structures; not as posters but as pedagogies.
- Flourishing as dignity and contribution: Schools are judged not only on exam results but on how their students leave with the capacity to live lives of meaning, purpose, and contribution to the common good.
- Local nuance, national honesty: Acknowledging that “British values” are not universal values, but one political frame; opening space for communities to shape how values are lived in their context.
The Dare
So here’s the provocation: Whose values are you really living by?
- Are they values chosen in Whitehall and laminated in your corridors?
- Are they values written in a boardroom and handed down like policy?
- Or are they values forged, tested, and lived in the daily practices of your community?
The dare is this: stop treating values as safe branding. Start treating them as dangerous commitments. Dangerous because they demand something of us. Dangerous because they unsettle power. Dangerous because they might actually make our schools places where all young people, not just the ones who fit the script, can truly flourish.
I’ll leave you with the question, not as comfort, but as a challenge:
Whose values are they anyway? Are you ready to change the answer?
How Can Educators Support DEI Efforts Amidst Budget Cuts?
Written by Eleanor Hecks
Eleanor Hecks is a writer who is passionate about helping businesses create inclusive and diverse spaces. She serves as the Editor in Chief of Designerly Magazine.
As education faces yet another round of budget cuts, leaders must determine where to cut back without sacrificing their ongoing diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) efforts. After years of economising, they have few options. Is it even possible?
How Budget Cuts Will Impact UK Schools
Research from Stop School Cuts estimates the £630 million cut to education funding next year will be the equivalent of 12,400 school staff’s salaries, including 6,700 support staff and 5,700 teachers. The campaign projects that 92% of secondary schools and 75% of primary schools will be forced to cut staff. In England, overall per-pupil funding will drop to the lowest level in 15 years.
Educational institutions have been experiencing compounding financial pressure for nearly two decades — they cannot continue absorbing costs. Industry experts agree, concerned that the latest round of cutbacks will be burdensome.
Julie McCulloch — the senior director of strategy, policy and professional development at the Association of School and College Leaders — says schools have done an excellent job of minimising the impact on students. However, they are nearing what she calls a “death by a thousand cuts.” As they face yet another budget cut, many wonder whether a solution exists.
Can Educators Support DEI Amidst Cuts?
Educational institutions struggling to manage funds amidst the tuition fee freeze and budget cuts will likely need to economise. Typically, eliminating DEI programs would not be the first approach that comes to mind due to the vast improvements DEI initiatives bring — namely, surveys show that nearly 80% of those who make DEI investments see internal improvements to company culture. However, they can only offset cutbacks if they make major financial changes equivalent to 12,400 school staff’s salaries.
With DEI becoming increasingly divisive, some have called for removing so-called “DEI hires.” Others have moved to defund institutions related to or containing elements of DEI. Although the U.S. does not fund universities in the United Kingdom, some have offset cutbacks by sourcing funds from overseas agencies.
While educational leaders have faced pressure to distance themselves from DEI, they have already spent precious time, money and energy on these efforts. Even unintentionally backpedalling now would be a waste of resources. Instead, they should prioritise supporting diversity and inclusion when identifying areas to scale back.
Strategies for Supporting DEI in Education
Educators can continue to support DEI efforts despite budget cuts in several ways.
Establish Staff Performance Benchmarks
With performance data, they can identify areas of opportunity, enabling them to make staffing and scheduling decisions. Chances are, they have a key growth area they could improve.
For instance, while 75% of working adults consider teamwork and collaboration essential workplace skills, 39% believe their employers don’t facilitate cooperation enough. Benchmarking internally and against other schools in similar circumstances will help institutions identify strategies to optimise diversity and inclusion without increasing spending.
Use an Approved Framework Agreement
Framework agreements approved by the Department for Education can help professionals source goods and services quickly and cheaply. Instead of spending time getting quotes and verifying compliance, they can select pre-vetted vendors that may already have a cost-effective pricing structure in place.
Engage in Strategic Workforce Planning
Decision-makers should reduce support staff and teaching assistants to retain skilled teachers. No leader wants to be in this position, but making tough decisions may be necessary for the greater good. They can work with other state-funded schools to find employment opportunities for those they let go.
The Society for Human Resource Management states hiring one employee costs nearly £4,000 on average because the organisation must spend money advertising the job and onboarding the new hire. Relying on a network can reduce expenses while keeping professionals in the workforce.
Reduce Non-staff Spend With Resource Management
Education experts have successfully reduced non-staff spending, so this strategy is sound. They saved around £1.1 billion from 2015 to 2020. Without this strategy, spending would have risen by an estimated £600 million. They may only have a few notches left, but can still tighten their belts, so to speak.
Educators Can Continue Supporting DEI Efforts
Budgets may be tight, but children are the future, so prioritising their education is essential. Even though cutting DEI programs would save some money, introducing diverse viewpoints and skill sets can help foster a healthy, inclusive learning environment. Educators should consider leveraging these strategies to preserve their programs.
Celebrating ESEA Heritage Month: Building belonging for every student – and why it matters right now
Written by Yasmina Koné
Yasmina is Deputy Lead of Hemisphere Education, a multi award-winning platform improving racial and cultural literacy in schools. She’s spearheading Hemisphere’s adoption in the UK, building partnerships with leading schools, education partnerships and multi academy trusts. Prior to Hemisphere, Yasmina held senior roles at one of London’s top 10 start-ups, Beam, and Magic Circle law firm Clifford Chance. Profiled by the BBC and The Lawyer, her work has also led her to speak in Parliament. She combines strategic acumen with a commitment to social justice and is passionate about the education sector’s role in creating a more inclusive society.
Originally shared by Hemisphere in the HMC blog on 18/09/2025.
School shapes our values. They’re places where young people learn how to treat one another, how to build community, how to agree and disagree respectfully, and how to challenge prejudice when they see it. At a time when division dominates the headlines, schools can help to foster understanding and empathy, creating safety and belonging.
With East and South East Asian Heritage Month underway and Black History Month around the corner, this is a timely opportunity to help every student to feel that they belong.
“Having exposure [to cultural celebrations] helps me to see people who are from the same background as me and feel less like the odd one out… [it helps me see] that it’s normal to celebrate these events and that I can be proud of them.” Source: Hemisphere research, 2024
This is what belonging feels like: being seen, celebrated, included and proud of who you are. Research consistently highlights four key areas where belonging makes a measurable difference to outcomes:
- Attainment: Pupils who feel they belong are more motivated, engaged, and achieve stronger grades.
- Wellbeing: Belonging boosts self-esteem and resilience while supporting better mental health.
- Attendance: Pupils with a sense of belonging are less likely to disengage, miss school, or drop out.
- Harm reduction: Belonging protects against bullying and social exclusion, helping pupils feel safe and valued.
Source: “School Belonging: A Literature Review” (March 2024). Commissioned by the National Children’s Bureau and conducted by researchers at Goldsmiths, University of London. A review of international and UK-based evidence on school belonging that synthesises research on how belonging is defined, measured, and influenced.
Belonging isn’t built by policy alone; it comes from understanding the specific experiences of different pupil groups. Small changes in everyday practice can make a powerful difference to pupils’ sense of belonging.
Hemisphere’s latest programme explores how you can support students of Chinese ethnicity to feel that they belong. The British Chinese population encompasses vast cultural, linguistic, socioeconomic, and generational differences. It includes people descended from mainland China, Hong Kong (‘Hong Kongers’), South East Asia, the Caribbean, and elsewhere. People who were born in the UK, and people who migrated here.
We share key insights from our research – and the simple actions you and your staff can take – below.
Research insights: Chinese heritage
While Chinese children are one of the highest achieving groups in the UK, they also face high levels of racist abuse and stereotyping. 86% of the students we interviewed had experienced racist banter and jokes. 41% told us that they felt overlooked by teachers who they thought assumed they were “fine” because of their ethnicity. “Positive” stereotyping can conceal real issues and result in unmet needs.
Here are three actions every member of staff can take to support Chinese students:
- Challenge assumptions: tackle the “model minority” myth so that no child’s needs are hidden behind stereotypes.
- Get to know the children you teach: take time to understand each child as an individual and recognise the diversity within the UK’s Chinese community.
- Strengthen representation: ensure your curriculum and resources reflect all pupils’ identities positively, so every child can see themselves in the classroom.
To support schools, we’ve created a one-minute clip from our film on the history of Chinese Britons. Understanding how this heritage is woven into our national story makes it easy to see why representation matters – and how recognising it can transform a pupil’s sense of belonging.
Watch this clip, read more about the actions you can take, and download a resource to share with colleagues here.
Schools that invest in belonging are investing in better outcomes both in and outside the classroom: stronger academic results, better wellbeing and relationships, wider opportunities – and a more cohesive, inclusive society.
Deficit Language: The Invisible Barrier We Do Not Talk About
Written by Hannah Wilson
Founder and Director of the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators).
We do not just describe people with our words – we define their possibilities. And sometimes, we unintentionally define them by what they lack. Too often, the language we use to describe communities puts the blame on individuals instead of the systems that fail them. This is what we call deficit language.
Why is Deficit Language Problematic?
As we strive to become more inclusive, we really need to consider the language we use and consider if it is a tool for inclusion or a weapon for exclusion. We choose our words to speak out loud our thoughts – language selection gives us agency and we need to be conscious about what we say and how it lands as there is often a gap between our intention and our impact.
In schools and workplaces we can fall into the trap of using deficit language to define and categorise people – it is problematic as it leads with what people are not, as opposed to leading with what they are. It highlights their barriers, instead of celebrating their strengths.
Definition: The word deficit comes from the Latin deficit meaning “it is wanting.” A deficit is characterised by the wanting of something missing – e.g. deficit (noun) is the property of being an amount by which something is less than expected or required.
How Do We Shape Intention into Impact?
When we talk about people, the words we choose matter. They do not just describe reality – they shape it. Deficit language is one of the most common, yet often overlooked, ways language reinforces stereotypes and limits opportunities.
Deficit-based language frames individuals, groups or communities in terms of what they lack rather than what they bring. It emphasises shortcomings, needs, or problems.
Asset-based language focuses on strengths, resources, and potential, using words and framing that promote dignity, confidence, and empowerment. It celebrates difference as a value-add.
Example 1:
It rattles me when I hear educators referring to people on their staff as ‘non-teachers’. This centres the voice and the experience of teachers at the expense of the support staff, the admin staff, the site staff, the catering staff who can be collectively referred to as the operations staff. To open a DEIB training session by welcoming everyone and naming who is in the room, it is both ironic and counter-intuitive, furthermore it undermines the commitment a school is striving to make, when the impact of the language contradicts the intention.
There is nothing ‘non’ about working in a school and being in the majority of the staff who are not the teachers.
Example 2:
It frustrates me when I hear people refer to others as ‘non-English speaking’. This assumes that everyone around the world speaks English and that there is a hierarchy of language. It makes the EAL learner or the multilingual family the problem and negates the value speaking a different language has.
There is nothing ‘non’ about being a linguist and being able to communicate in multiple languages.
Example 3:
It jars me when I hear people refer to others with a darker skin tone as ‘non-whites’. To me this smacks of racial segregation and categorisation. I can’t imagine anyone ever saying can the ‘non-boys’ come over here, or can the ‘non-parents’ go over there? It would get a reaction as it explicitly reduces people and erases their identity.
There is nothing ‘non’ about being racialised as being black, brown or biracial and belonging to the global majority.
Example 4:
It infuriates me on a personal level when people refer to me as being ‘non-married’ and a ‘non-parent’ or childless. This defines me by what I am not instead of what I am. It carries judgment about my lifestyle and my life choices. I am in fact very happy being ‘partner-free’ and ‘child-free’.
There is nothing ‘non’ about being independent, autonomous and self-sufficient.
Why is Deficit Language Harmful?
- It Perpetuates Stereotypes: Deficit framing positions people – especially marginalized communities – as inherently lacking. This reinforces harmful biases rather than dismantling them.
- It Shifts Blame to Individuals: Instead of addressing structural inequities (like underfunded schools, discriminatory hiring, or systemic racism), deficit language makes individuals appear responsible for circumstances beyond their control.
- It Limits Opportunities: Words influence perception. When people are described in deficit terms, decision-makers (teachers, employers, policymakers) may unconsciously lower expectations or overlook talent.
- It Shapes Identity: People internalise how they are described. Constantly hearing deficit-based narratives can impact self-esteem, confidence, and the way individuals see their own potential.
How Do We Move Beyond Deficit Language?
- We shift from “what’s wrong” to “what’s strong” – by replacing reductive phrases and by choosing our words more carefully.
- We highlight agency and resilience – by acknowledging the challenges people face, but also their strengths in navigating them.
- We name systems, not individuals – by focusing on the problem itself instead of focusing on the person who is facing the problem.
- We ask communities how they want to be described – by respecting that self-identification is key so we need to listen, unlearn and re-learn the language that we use.
The Bigger Picture
Moving away from deficit language is not about being “politically correct.” It is about shifting narratives to more accurately reflect reality, challenge harmful assumptions, and honour the dignity and resilience of individuals and communities.
When we change our words, we begin to change the systems they uphold. Asset-based language celebrates the value that difference brings, whereas deficit-based language puts the problem onto the person and others them.
This approach involves shifting the narrative from problems to opportunities, particularly in fields like education and social services, by recognising and valuing individual and community assets to achieve positive and equitable outcomes.
So as everyone strives to articulate their DEIB commitment, as we become more conscious of who we are and our own lived experience – can we please become more confident in modelling inclusive language and more competent in calling in and calling out language that diminishes others?