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?
Racism is a Safeguarding Issue: Education as a Safe Haven
Written by Chloe Watterston
Chloe is an educator, athlete, and advocate for inclusive, curiosity-driven learning, dedicated to creating spaces where every young person feels safe, valued, and empowered. Her work across mainstream and SEND education, community projects, and curriculum reform is driven by a passion for amplifying marginalised voices and breaking down barriers to learning.
Schools often pride themselves on being safe spaces, yet for many students, they are anything but. Racism in education is not simply a matter of representation or curriculum – it is a safeguarding issue. Children are being radicalised online, marginalised in classrooms, and silenced when they try to speak out. Ignoring racism doesn’t protect students; it perpetuates harm.
When we talk about safeguarding, we picture child protection protocols, online safety lessons, and anti-bullying strategies. But racism is rarely given the same urgency, often treated as a ‘behavioural’ problem rather than a threat to wellbeing. This omission has consequences. Experiencing racism is traumatic: it damages mental health, erodes self-worth, and disrupts learning. And when schools fail to act, they can become complicit in further harm.
We should be challenged to confront that denial and reframe anti-racism as a fundamental safeguarding duty. Decolonising the curriculum isn’t about adding diverse content – it’s about telling the truth: truth about the roots of white supremacy, about global histories and contributions, and about the systemic barriers that harm marginalised children daily.
When schools silence conversations or refuse to acknowledge racism, they create unsafe spaces. Anti-racist practice must become part of safeguarding training, staff culture, and classroom discussions. Students should never feel their identity is ‘too political’ to discuss or their experiences are ignored.
The Scale of the Problem
The numbers are stark:
- In 2019, the NSPCC reported that incidents of racial abuse and racist bullying of children had risen by a fifth within four years.
- In 2021, the Guardian reported that UK schools recorded 60,177 racist incidents in a five-year period (Anti-bullying Alliance)
- A 2020 World Economic Forum report found 95% of young Black British people have witnessed racist language in education. (Forum)
- According to the Department for Education, Black Caribbean pupils are up to three times more likely to be excluded than their white peers (gov.uk).
Yet, many schools still treat racist incidents as isolated behaviour problems rather than safeguarding red flags.
Why Racism is a Safeguarding Concern
- Radicalisation Risk: Extremism targets isolated, angry, or vulnerable children, grooming them with online narratives that can spread through classrooms.
- Chronic Trauma: Racism’s impact isn’t a one-off bruise – it creates long-term psychological harm, raising rates of anxiety, depression, and physical health issues.
- Unsafe Environments: When students see racism dismissed or ignored, they stop reporting it. Silence doesn’t mean equality; it signals danger.
A child who doesn’t feel safe being themselves is not safeguarded. Schools must explicitly name racism in safeguarding policies and act with urgency.
Moving Beyond Performative Action
Assemblies and diversity displays are not enough. Anti-racist practice must be embedded into school culture. Senior leaders should model vulnerability, showing staff and students that it’s okay to feel uncomfortable when confronting prejudice. Teachers must be empowered to respond to racism confidently, while safeguarding teams must be trained to treat racist abuse with the same seriousness as other forms of harm.
Practical Steps for Schools & Teachers
- Embed Anti-Racism in Safeguarding Training
- Include racist bullying, harassment, and microaggressions in safeguarding protocols.
- Train staff on how to document, escalate, and resolve cases effectively.
- Create Anonymous Reporting Channels
- Allow students to report racism through secure, anonymous forms or ‘trusted adult’ programs.
- Ensure reporting leads to visible action to build trust.
- Audit School Culture and Discipline
- Analyse sanctions, exclusions, and behaviour logs for racial bias.
- Survey students on whether they feel safe and valued.
- Actively Celebrate Identity
- Representation shouldn’t be tokenistic or restricted to a single month. Displays, assemblies, and lessons should celebrate diversity all year round.
- Partner with Communities
- Collaborate with local advocacy groups, parents, and faith leaders to create a united, culturally competent safeguarding network.
Long-Term Steps to Discuss and Implement
- Mandatory Racial Literacy and Trauma-Informed Training
- Establish ongoing professional development for all staff, governors, and leadership teams.
- Include practical anti-bias strategies, restorative approaches, and equity-based leadership skills.
- Curriculum Reform and Decolonisation
- Conduct curriculum audits to identify gaps, Eurocentric bias, and opportunities to embed global histories and diverse voices across all subjects.
- Create working groups that include teachers, students, and parents to co-develop inclusive resources.
- Embed Equity into School Policies
- Ensure behaviour, uniform, and attendance policies are reviewed annually for cultural bias.
- Introduce an anti-racism charter, making equity a measurable school-wide goal.
- Equitable Recruitment and Retention
- Develop strategies to hire and support staff from marginalised backgrounds.
- Introduce mentorship programs and leadership pipelines to diversify senior leadership teams.
- Student Voice and Leadership Structures
- Formalise pupil-led diversity and equity councils with genuine decision-making power.
- Include students in policy discussions, curriculum planning, and cultural initiatives.
- Partnerships with Universities and Cultural Organisations
- Collaborate with museums, archives, and community-led organisations to integrate local and hidden histories into learning.
- Use these partnerships to expand professional development opportunities for staff.
- Data-Driven Accountability
- Track racial disparities in exclusions, attainment, and access to enrichment opportunities.
- Publish anonymised annual reports to maintain transparency and measure progress.
- Wellbeing Infrastructure
- Create a system of proactive pastoral care to address the emotional toll of racism on students and staff.
- Offer external counselling, mentoring, and safe spaces for reflection and healing.
Authors, Poets & Works to Teach
Bringing diverse voices into the curriculum is a powerful anti-racist action. Consider introducing:
- Akala – Natives: Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire (critical nonfiction for older students).
- Kayo Chingonyi – Kumukanda, a tender and nostalgic collection exploring Black identity, masculinity, and heritage.
- Malorie Blackman – Noughts & Crosses series, a compelling exploration of racism and justice.
- Claudia Rankine – Citizen, poetry that captures microaggressions and systemic inequality.
- Dean Atta – The Black Flamingo, a verse novel celebrating identity and self-expression.
- Benjamin Zephaniah – Poems such as The British, exploring multiculturalism and belonging.
- Patrice Lawrence – Orangeboy, a gripping novel about youth identity, loyalty, and race in the UK.
Did You Know?
Britain’s multicultural history long predates Windrush:
- John Blanke: A Black trumpeter in Henry VIII’s court, documented in royal artwork and paid a musician’s wage in the 1500s.
- Mary Prince: The first Black woman to publish an autobiography in Britain (1831), a pivotal voice in the abolition movement.
- Walter Tull: One of Britain’s first Black professional footballers and the first Black officer to lead white troops in WWI.
These stories remind us that diversity isn’t new – it is woven into Britain’s history.
Call for Support
Safeguarding means every child feels safe to exist as themselves. Parents, governors, and communities need to be part of this conversation. Anti-racism is not a ‘school initiative’; it goes beyond the gates. Schools should partner with grassroots organisations, listen to marginalised voices, and build trust that extends into families and local communities.
The stakes are too high to ignore. Racism must be treated with the same gravity as abuse or neglect, because its effects can be just as devastating. Schools are in a unique position to interrupt these cycles by becoming proactive, empathetic, and brave. Yet, policymakers must back this with funding, training, and clear frameworks, but every teacher already has the power to make a difference:
- Believe students when they share their experiences.
- Advocate for systemic change.
- Build safe, inclusive spaces where every voice is valued.
Schools are uniquely placed to break cycles of harm, disrupt extremism, and model empathy for the next generation.
A motto to guide your practice after this reading: Safety is not silence; true safeguarding starts with uncomfortable truth.
Belonging in the Classroom: responding to a divided world
Written by Zahara Chowdhury
Zahara is founder and editor of the blog and podcast, School Should Be, a platform that explores a range of topics helping students, teachers and parents on how to ‘adult well’, together. She is a DEI lead across 2 secondary schools and advises schools on how to create positive and progressive cultures for staff and students. Zahara is a previous Head of English, Associate Senior Leader and Education and Wellbeing Consultant.
It’s a Sunday morning—my favourite time of the week. Coffee in hand (with collagen and creatine, of course), I wander around the house while the kids are already asking for ice cream, Lego time, and the TV (yes, it’s only 8am). Usually, this part of the day comes with a little doom-scrolling, some memes, and a few oddly satisfying cleaning videos. But today feels different.
As I scroll, I’m pulled into two completely different worlds. On Instagram, images from Tommy Robinson’s Unite The Nation march flood my feed. The night before, I found myself double-checking the doors and windows—just in case. On LinkedIn, meanwhile, notifications are pinging from the brilliant Anti-Racism Conference, hosted by The Black Curriculum and Belonging Effect. Two events. Same time. Same city. Entirely different realities.
It’s hard to put into words what many of us—especially those who are ‘othered’—are carrying right now. When I speak to friends and colleagues, the feelings range from sadness and fear to resilience, resistance, and even indifference. For me, the world feels both tragic and surreal. I’m tired and frustrated. But I’m also hopeful.
One book that always grounds me is The Courage of Compassion by Robin Steinberg. It reminds us that courage means listening deeply, even to those who are different from us—or against us—and meeting that difference with compassion.
And yet, there’s an uncomfortable truth here. Too often, minoritised communities are expected to model empathy and moral “goodness,” as if our belonging depends on it. That expectation is unfair. Still, when I think about it, many of us would still choose courage, compassion, and calm clarity—because that’s who we are.
Yesterday’s conference reaffirmed why education matters so much in moments like this. Now more than ever, educators, schools, and communities need to unite and connect. This isn’t just about curriculum—it’s about safeguarding, wellbeing, and ensuring every student feels safe, included, and able to thrive.
How Schools Can Respond
Address the elephant in the room.
Some students and staff will feel anxious or upset about the march. Others may feel proud. Many won’t have noticed at all. But silence sends the wrong message. Even if only a few people are directly affected, everyone benefits when schools acknowledge what’s happening.
David Hermitt, former MAT CEO, once told me: teachers, at their core, want to do the right thing. They care about their students and about society. That care means opening the conversation.
You might:
- Share a short message with tutors, acknowledging the march and reiterating your school values—respect, inclusion, safety.
- Create space for discussion, whether through tutor time or optional drop-in sessions.
- Adapt to your context—no one knows your students better than you.
Keep parents in the loop
A simple message goes a long way. Reassure families that student safety remains your priority. Remind them of your school values. Invite them to share concerns—listening to parental voice is valuable, even if it feels daunting.
Harness parental representation
Cultural representation in schools makes a lasting difference. Pamela Aculey-Kosminsky recalls her mum coming into school in traditional Ghanaian dress, sharing food and heritage. My own mum did the same, later becoming a governor. These grassroots connections build community in powerful ways.
Connect with community leaders
Reach out to local faith leaders, organisers, and community champions. They can humanise difficult issues, counter misinformation, and build bridges between groups.
Invest in staff confidence
Staff need space to prepare for conversations around race, politics, and inclusion. It’s not always easy to make room for CPD, but it pays off in the long run—both for teachers and students.
Finding Hope in Difficult Times
The world feels overwhelming: the Unite The Nation march, the ongoing genocide in Gaza, violence in Sudan and Congo, the murder of Charlie Kirk, the sexual assault and attack on a Sikh woman told she “does not belong,” ICE raids, the memory of George Floyd and Sarah Everard. It feels dystopian.
But maybe hope isn’t naïve. On a global scale, things feel broken. But on a local scale, in our schools and communities, we still have power. We can create safe, compassionate spaces, even when the world feels anything but.
If you’re wondering where to start, here are a few resources that can help:
- https://amzn.eu/d/2Y6BY9e (The Diverse Curriculum)
- https://amzn.eu/d/adrYCr5 (Creating Belonging in the Classroom)
- https://amzn.eu/d/h35uFpN (what do you think?)
This is an ongoing conversation and work we need to do collaboratively. If you have any resources or best practice examples, please share them. If you have questions or need support, please reach out—we are here to support, advise, or simply to have a chat.
How Do You Sleep at Night?
Written by Remi Atoyebi
Remi Atoyebi is an experienced Headteacher and ICF Certified Transformational and Leadership Coach. She is a contributor to The Headteachers’ Handbook and a mentor to over 50 school leaders across the UK. As a leader from a Global Majority background, she is passionate about inclusive leadership, psychological safety, and creating safe spaces for underrepresented voices.
It’s a question I’ve been asked more than once as a Headteacher; sometimes half-joking, other times with genuine curiosity. And it’s a fair question.
Headship is not a role you can switch off from at 5pm.
The decisions you make don’t just affect timetables or budgets, they affect children’s lives, families’ futures, and colleagues’ wellbeing.
The weight of it can follow you home and sit on your shoulders late into the night.
Budgets that don’t add up. Safeguarding concerns that keep you alert long after the working day has ended. Government directives that land with little warning and less thought through, for practicality. Staff who are stretched to their limits. Parents with understandable and sometimes impossible expectations. The list is endless.
Every single day, decisions land on your desk that don’t come with neat answers. Some are uncomfortable. Some are deeply personal. Some are triggering. Some weigh far heavier than others.
So how do I sleep at night?
For me, it always comes back to moral purpose.
Headship is full of noise. There are trends that come and go, policies that feel like they change with the seasons, performance tables that never tell the full story, and the ever-present pressure of the loudest voices in the room.
If you’re not careful, you can find yourself reacting to the noise instead of leading with clarity.
When the noise builds, I strip everything back to two simple questions:
- Does this decision serve our core purpose, or is it just noise?
- How will this decision impact the children?
These two questions have become my compass. They stop me being pulled off course by distraction or pressure, and they bring me back to why I stepped into leadership in the first place.
Of course, that doesn’t mean decisions become easy. Often, the morally purposeful choice is also the hardest one.
It might mean saying no to the “shiny” initiative that looks good on a glossy plan but adds very little to learning. Michael Fullan’s assertion about ‘proverbial Christmas Tree Schools’ comes to mind! Schools that look dazzling from the outside, covered in ornaments and trimmings, but when you step closer you realise the tree itself isn’t strong. The core business of learning has to be robust; otherwise, all the sparkle is just distraction.
It might mean investing in staff development or SEND provision, even if it means delaying something more visible to the outside world. It might mean having a difficult, face-to-face conversation with a colleague because the children deserve better, when it would be far easier to avoid the conflict.
It also means living with the discomfort that you won’t please everyone. Some will disagree with your choices. Some will even question your motives. That’s the nature of leadership.
And yes, I don’t always get it right. None of us do. Headship is messy. There are days I’ve looked back and wished I’d handled something differently. But I’ve learned this: I can sleep at night when I know my decisions were rooted in moral purpose. I can live with mistakes made for the right reasons.
What I couldn’t live with is drifting into decisions made out of convenience, fear, or the temptation to follow the crowd.
That’s the difference for me. That’s how I rest; by holding fast to the belief that our work is about the children in front of us, not the noise around us.
Because at the end of the day, headship isn’t about me. It’s about them; the children whose futures are shaped by the choices we make today.
So, if you are leading a school, a team, or even a classroom, I’d invite you to pause and reflect:
- What’s the yardstick you measure your decisions against?
- When the noise gets loud, what helps you stay anchored?
- And most importantly, how will today’s decision make life better for the pupils?
If we can answer these questions with honesty and courage, we will not only serve our children better, but we will also find our own peace of mind. Because when your choices are rooted in purpose, you really can put your head on the pillow at night and rest.
And that, for me, is the only way to do this job.
What Inclusion means depends on where you are standing…
Written by Michelle Sakande
Michelle Sakande is an Inclusion Specialist, consultant, speaker and the author of Jude the Giant. She is currently the SENDCo at the Arbor School, Dubai. Michelle works across the UAE and Africa to support schools, communities, and policymakers in building equitable education systems. With expertise in special educational needs, assistive technology and inclusive literacy, she blends research-driven strategies with authentic storytelling to inspire change.
Inclusion is one of those words we all use, but we rarely define it the same way. In some parts of the world, inclusion means a child with autism sits in the same classroom as their peers. In others, it means a child simply has access to any education, regardless of ability. For some, it means policy. For others, it’s a prayer or a wish.
The truth? Inclusion isn’t a checklist; it’s a cultural conversation. But depending on where the soil, sand, grass or pavement you’re standing on is, that conversation sounds very different.
Inclusion in Context, A Global Mosaic
In Ghana, a child with learning differences may never be assessed or diagnosed. According to UNICEF, only 8% of children with disabilities attend school regularly and most teachers receive little to no training on neurodiversity. Cultural stigma plays a role too, especially as some families still hide their children due to fear or shame. Here, inclusion often starts not in the classroom, but in the mindset of the community. Across Africa, resources can be stretched, but innovation thrives. In Kenya, low-cost assistive tech is reforming access. In Nigeria, mother led advocacy groups are raising awareness. Still, inclusion is often treated as a charitable act, not a right.
Contrast that with Finland, which is consistently ranked one of the most inclusive education systems in the world. There, early screening, flexible curricula and a zero-stigma approach allows students to receive support before they fall behind. Around 32% of Finnish students receive special education services at some point, not because they’re failing, but because the system adapts to them.
In Singapore, inclusion is more structured, but highly academic. Neurodivergent students may attend special schools or units within mainstream ones. There’s investment, but still a strong cultural preference for high performance, which can leave some children feeling excluded within an ‘inclusive’ system. And in Japan, progress is slow but steady. A 2022 survey showed that only 13% of schools had fulltime special needs support teachers, although social awareness is rising because of advocacy by parents and NGOs.
Even in the UAE, where huge strides have been made in inclusive policy, implementation varies drastically from one school to another. There’s an appetite for change, but real inclusion can’t thrive without systemic accountability and sustained cultural sensitivity.
What does this mean for neurodivergent students?
For neurodivergent students, the definition of inclusion is often felt in small moments:
Is my difference seen as a deficit or a gift?
Am I supported to thrive, or just to survive?
Do I belong here or am I being tolerated?
What is inclusive in Finland may feel isolating in Ghana. What is normalized in Tokyo may be stigmatized in Accra. There is no one size fits all. But there is a shared goal: dignity, access and belonging.
So… What is Inclusion?
Inclusion is the right to participate fully in life at your own pace, with the support you need and the freedom to be your full self. It must be rooted in context, culture and care. It must be flexible enough to honour difference and firm enough to insist on equity. It’s important not to export models that don’t translate… Listen deeply, learn locally and lead with humanity. Because true inclusion doesn’t start with policy. It starts with people.
Fostering Hope and Resilience through Third-Wave Positive Psychology in Schools
Written by Melanie Gentles
Melanie Gentles is a Positive Psychology Practitioner and School Leader with a Master’s degree in Applied Positive Psychology from Buckinghamshire New University, UK. Her work bridges research and practice, focusing on how psychological resources such as hope can foster resilience, wellbeing and personal growth—particularly within Black communities and culturally diverse contexts.
As a co-author of the recent study Exploring the Experiences of Hope among Young Black British Female Adult Racial Justice Activists, published in the European Journal of Applied Positive Psychology, I’m deeply passionate about how our findings can illuminate the path forward for educational spaces. Our research explores hope not as a vague ideal, but as a powerful mechanism for recovery, action and growth. It captures the emotional complexity of activism and the vital role education plays in nurturing and sustaining hope.
This work resonates strongly with the principles of Third-Wave Positive Psychology (TWPP), which brings a more holistic, socially aware perspective to understanding human wellbeing. In this framework, schools are not just places of academic instruction but can become incubators of resilience, justice and community. They can offer students the tools to navigate the realities of racial discrimination with strength and purpose.
Looking Beyond the Individual to Understand Hope
Our study centered on the lived experiences of young Black British female racial justice activists and reflects the core values of TWPP. Unlike earlier approaches in positive psychology that often emphasised individual traits or isolated wellbeing, this third wave emphasises complexity. It recognises that wellbeing exists within cultural contexts, social systems and historical structures.
The hope we examined in our research did not emerge in spite of adversity, nor was it separate from feelings of pain, anger or exhaustion. Instead, it existed alongside them. These activists demonstrated a hope that was deeply rooted in a collective struggle. It was practical, forward-looking and responsive to the realities of racial injustice. Rather than denying hardship, it acknowledged it and used it as fuel for action.
This orientation toward action is a hallmark of TWPP. It moves beyond personal optimism to ask how individuals and communities can create meaningful change. In this way, our findings challenge schools to see hope not as a soft or sentimental emotion, but as a powerful, transformative force—especially for students facing systemic adversity.
Supporting Students Through a TWPP-Informed Lens
The implications of this work for schools are profound. When educators understand hope through the TWPP perspective, they gain new tools for supporting pupils who are grappling with the effects of racial discrimination. This begins with the recognition that healing and empowerment are inseparable from justice and agency.
Creating Space for Real Emotions
Students need to feel that their experiences are seen and taken seriously. TWPP urges us to validate young people’s emotional responses to discrimination. This includes acknowledging anger, grief and frustration, as well as celebrating their strength and defiance. By offering safe, respectful spaces for students to express themselves, schools help lay the groundwork for hope to take root.
Empowering Students to Act
Hope is more than a feeling—it’s a belief that change is possible and that one has the tools to pursue it. Schools can foster this belief by helping pupils recognise their own agency and develop strategies to navigate challenges. Some ways to do this include:
- Giving students meaningful opportunities to share their experiences and advocate for change within the school
- Teaching practical problem-solving and self-advocacy skills, including how to report discrimination and seek support
- Introducing students to role models—past and present—who have confronted injustice and inspired progress
Supporting Growth After Trauma
Our study also showed that hope can be a pathway to resilience and post-traumatic growth. For students who have experienced racism, recovery is not about erasing the trauma but about transforming it. Schools can play a vital role in this process by offering support that is both culturally aware and trauma informed. This includes mental health resources, mentorship and community connections that affirm students’ identities and experiences.
Reimagining Education as a Catalyst for Hope
Education, when approached intentionally, can be a powerful vehicle for hope. This means going beyond curriculum reform and embedding justice, dignity and belonging into the entire educational environment.
Developing Anti-Racist Curricula
Schools must commit to challenging dominant narratives and offering diverse, inclusive content. This helps students make sense of systemic injustice and strengthens their understanding of the broader world. An anti-racist curriculum celebrates marginalised voices and equips students with critical tools for analysis and empathy.
Building Advocacy Skills
Equipping pupils with the skills to advocate for themselves and their communities reinforces their sense of agency. This includes communication, critical thinking, civic engagement and organising skills. These are not extracurricular—they are essential for meaningful citizenship and long-term wellbeing.
Fostering a Sense of Belonging
Perhaps most crucially, schools must create environments where all students feel seen, valued and safe. Belonging is not a luxury; it is foundational for learning and thriving. When students know they matter, they are more likely to believe in their future and to act with purpose and confidence.
Hope as a Pathway to Justice and Flourishing
Through the lens of Third-Wave Positive Psychology, hope emerges as a deeply grounded and pragmatic force. It helps students navigate real challenges—not by ignoring injustice but by actively responding to it. Our study highlights how hope can support pupils in reclaiming power, building community and imagining new possibilities, even in the face of adversity.
In today’s schools, cultivating hope is not optional. It is a necessary part of helping all young people—especially those confronting systemic racism—find their voice, resilience and capacity for change.
Reference
Gentles, M. J., & Sims, C. (2025). Exploring the Experiences of Hope among Young Black British Female Adult Racial Justice Activists. European Journal of Applied Positive Psychology, 9(4).
Beyond the Binary: What would happen if every staffroom heard my trans kids speak?
Written by Matthew Savage
A global education leader, Matthew supports schools worldwide with radical, fresh ways of knowing, helping everyone to be seen, heard, known and belong. A disabled wheelchair user, and parent to two, neuroqueer, adult children, he, his wife and their dingowolf live on the Isle of Skye.
Back in 2021, I wrote for this blog a post entitled, ‘Gender is “wibbly-wobbly” and “timey-wimey”, and gloriously so’. How the world has changed since then!
Then, we lived in a world which was ignorant about, fearful of, and discriminatory towards the trans community. However, today, this ignorance, fear and discrimination have been multiplied a thousandfold.
As life has become tougher for most people, populist, and simply wannabe-popular, governments have sought somehow to blame the situation on the marginalised and minoritised groups most negatively impacted by it: refugees, for example; the disabled; and, of course, trans people.
However, the purpose of this post is not to amplify the critical work of the Good Law Project to rehumanise trans identity in the wake of the EHRC’s misinterpretation of the UK Supreme Court’s recent judgment, or to amplify the efforts of Transactual, and other organisations within the UK’s trans and LGBTQ+ communities, to develop a co-ordinated response to the subsequent public consultation.
As a disabled, wheelchair user myself, I am tired of trying to navigate a world designed through an ableist lens uninformed by the experience of the disabled community itself. And one of the things that angers me most about the offensively called ‘trans debate’ is that it never centres trans voices.
And so this post seeks to share some of those voices, namely those of my two, beautiful, kind, adult, trans children, with whom I recorded a lengthy conversation last August, with the intention of turning it into a published article about the publication of which I am now sufficiently scared to postpone.
For the time being, then, instead, please let these snippets speak for themselves:
- “Like with queer identity in the 1980s, even mentioning it was framed as a bad influence on kids… Section 28 came from that mindset. Today the same fear – ‘talk about it and you’ll turn children trans’ – drives the panic around schools.”
- “Trans Day of Visibility is supposed to be positive, yet the very act of being seen now brings more danger: headlines, hostile laws, threats. Sometimes hiding feels safer than visibility that paints a target on your back.”
- “Adults are so far behind. Some still stumble over ‘trans man’ or ‘trans woman’, let alone neopronouns. Children already use that language confidently, but teachers keep circling around the terminology instead of choosing to learn it.”
- “Our existence gets politicised; we’re not allowed simply to live without becoming a talking point. ‘What about the children?’ is rolled out, yet the outrage is profitable fear-mongering, not genuine concern for young people’s wellbeing.”
- “Bullies know that strangers – and even politicians – repeat the same slurs, so their abuse feels legitimised. It isn’t only hatred of who you are; it’s a constant challenge to whether you even are who you say you are.”
- “Trans kids are treated like pawns in a culture war. Nobody is talking to them; everyone talks about them. Policies get drafted, panels convene, yet the voices most affected are left outside the room.”
- “Breaking down gender stereotypes liberates everyone – cis students included – who doesn’t fit a rigid mould. When a classroom loosens those constraints, more young people can breathe and learn as their authentic selves.”
I firmly believe that in a world where to come out as trans has never been more terrifying, what we need most is for trans allies to come out instead – with your families, your friends, your colleagues and the world at large. Because I firmly believe that, at times like these, silence is complicity.
Will you come out as the ally my children, and their trans siblings nationwide, need now more than ever?
Leading the Diverse Curriculum: How do we do this meaningfully, without crashing and burning?
Written by Bennie Kara
Co-Founder of Diverse Educators
There has never been a more urgent time for schools to reconsider what and who our curricula are for. In a world that is increasingly complex, diverse and interconnected, the curriculum must be more than a list of knowledge to be delivered. It must be a living, breathing framework for belonging, identity and justice. Leading the Diverse Curriculum (a 6 part training programme delivered over the course of the year) invites school leaders and educators to step back from the pace of everyday delivery and ask a foundational question: What does our curriculum say about the world and about the children in front of us?
Many schools are already aware that diversity and inclusion cannot be confined to a calendar event or a themed display board. The desire for a more equitable curriculum is present, but the path forward is often unclear. What this training offers is not a prescription, but a set of tools, questions and frameworks to help schools develop a curriculum that is thoughtful, principled and inclusive in both design and impact.
This work begins with vision as a guiding principle. Schools are encouraged to interrogate what it really means to have a diverse and inclusive curriculum. What values underpin our curriculum choices? How are these reflected in the lived experience of students across different subjects? These questions are not abstract. They demand honest dialogue among staff and between schools and their communities. By rooting curriculum development in a shared vision, the programme fosters a collective sense of purpose.
But clarity of vision must be matched by curriculum integrity. Diversity is not achieved through surface-level representation. It is not enough to add a new text to the reading list or a new historical figure to a lesson. A curriculum that serves all students must be rooted in sound curriculum thinking. This means understanding the principles of sequencing, coherence, and progression — and then asking, “Who is this for?” and “Whose knowledge is being centred?”
Throughout the programme, schools are supported to reflect critically on the content they teach and the underlying messages it conveys. There is space for genuine professional introspection, not just about what we teach, but why we teach it in the way we do. Educators are invited to hold up a mirror to their curriculum, to see whose voices are included and whose are absent. This is not about blame; it’s about building the confidence and competence to lead change in a meaningful, sustained way.
This work is not confined to theoretical ideals. The training is grounded in practical strategies and real-world application. Schools are encouraged to examine their current curriculum policies, subject intentions, and implementation models with new eyes — through the lenses of equity, identity, and justice. They are the lived experiences of our students. When schools begin to map the curriculum through these lenses, the gaps and opportunities become clearer, and the work begins to feel possible.
A particularly powerful aspect of this training is its emphasis on evaluation. Too often, curriculum changes are made without a clear sense of how success will be measured or what the impact should be. This programme supports leaders to think strategically and to consider change models and implementation strategies that go beyond intent and move towards sustainable, embedded practice.
This requires courage. It requires schools to look inward and confront the emotional realities of leading this work. There will be discomfort. There may be resistance. But this training does not shy away from that: it acknowledges that curriculum change is emotionally charged because it speaks to identity, belief, and culture. The programme offers space for staff to explore these emotions safely, while building the emotional literacy required to lead through discomfort and challenge.
Another vital strand of the training is the role of student and community voice. An inclusive curriculum cannot be created in isolation from the people it is designed to serve. Too often, students are passive recipients of curriculum decisions. This programme challenges that norm, encouraging schools to create authentic, safe spaces for students and families to share how the curriculum lands with them.
This is not easy work. It is demanding, nuanced, and often personal. But it is also deeply hopeful. At a time when education is increasingly shaped by outcomes and data, this training reminds us of the transformative power of the curriculum. It reminds us that the stories we tell in our classrooms — through literature, history, science, art — shape the self-worth, aspirations and worldviews of our students.
Sign up to join the next cohort of Leading the Diverse Curriculum here:
26,000 Voices Reveal the True State of Inclusion in Schools
Written by Dr Nicole Ponsford
Dr Nicole Ponsford is an award-winning teacher, EdTech innovator, and doctoral researcher focused on equity and inclusion. She is the Founder and CEO of the GEC (Global Equality Collective)—a global movement of 20,000+ changemakers and 400+ DEI experts. Her research has informed GEC’s survey of 26,000+ students and staff (to date) on intersectional inclusion, shaping policy and practice. Recognised as one of Europe’s Top 50 Women in Tech, a National Diversity Awards 2024 finalist, and Computing Magazine’s Role Model of the Year, Nic also serves as Co-Head of Education at Microlink, championing inclusive learning through innovative design.
For the first time, 26,000 students and staff from over 350 schools and trusts have shared what inclusion really feels like—from corridors and classrooms to leadership, policy, and curriculum.
Published by the GEC, 26,000 Voices is the world’s largest and most intersectional study of inclusion in education. This report does more than highlight gaps—it hands leaders a blueprint for systemic change. At a time when education is at a crossroads, it offers something we’ve not had before: a real-world picture of how students and staff experience school—and what we can do to make things better.
More Than a Report: A Framework Built From the Inside Out
Inclusion is often treated as either a reporting requirement or a pastoral initiative—rarely both. That binary is holding schools back. Inclusion isn’t about box-ticking or reactive interventions. It’s about culture, systems, and leadership.
That’s why the GEC Platform was created. Developed by teachers, researchers, and inclusion experts—alongside five UK universities—it enables schools and trusts to see the full picture and act on it. At the heart of this approach is a new methodology: Kaleidoscopic Data.
Kaleidoscopic Data captures the intersectional, lived experiences of people in schools, revealing what traditional metrics can’t. By combining quantitative trends with qualitative depth, it ensures the voices of marginalised students and staff are no longer invisible—and that interventions are designed with, not for, those communities.
What the Data Reveals: Students
The student voice in this report is clear: many young people do not feel safe, seen, or supported in school.
- 64% of students say they don’t feel safe at school
- 30% of students from single-parent families have missed school due to safety concerns
- Just 18% of students with mental health needs feel supported to achieve
- 1 in 3 (33%) students with invisible disabilities say their needs are not understood in class
- Only 21% of LGBTQ+ students feel their gender identity is respected
What Helps: GEC Inclusion Actions for Students
- Collect anonymous student voice data to understand the needs of underserved groups. This should include how relationships and physical spaces affect students’ sense of safety and belonging.
- Use coaching circles and peer mentoring to rebuild trust and empower students to lead inclusively within their own communities.
- Equip staff with identity-informed coaching skills so they can support students with invisible disabilities or mental health needs more effectively.
- Use staff surveys to identify bias across the organisation. Provide LGBTQ+ inclusive training through structured, reflective CPD that centres student voice.
- Co-design safe spaces and coaching frameworks with students from single-parent households and marginalised groups to ensure solutions are rooted in lived reality.
- Adopt a trauma-informed, relational coaching model across all year groups—so inclusion becomes part of how teaching and support are delivered every day.
What the Data Reveals: Staff
Staff voices also reveal urgent inclusion challenges:
- Only 60% of staff feel they can be their authentic selves at work
- 62% of parent/carer staff feel excluded due to caregiving responsibilities
- Only 46% feel represented in school leadership
- 41% of staff with mental health or neurodivergent needs do not feel safe reporting issues
- Two in five staff say they need flexible working—or will consider leaving
What Helps: GEC Inclusion Actions for Staff
- Use anonymous staff surveys to surface the full spectrum of lived experiences, especially around identity, flexibility, and psychological safety.
- Create ‘safe spaces’ —both 1:1 and group, both anonymous and identified —where staff can reflect, share, and build self-advocacy skills.
- Offer inclusive leadership coaching to all line managers and management, focusing on belonging, identity, and equitable career routes and decision-making.
- Train all staff through structured CPD and coaching on flexible working, reasonable adjustments, and inclusive communication, especially for working parents and carers.
- Review representation in leadership pipelines through an intersectional and equity lens. Coaching can be used to build visibility, confidence, and sponsorship for underrepresented staff.
- Normalise mental health and neurodiversity conversations through coaching-led supervision, reflective practice, and wellbeing frameworks that go beyond tokenism.
Report and Support, Not Either/Or
The 26,000 Voices report offers:
- National benchmarks on inclusion
- Clear, actionable priorities for school and trust leaders
- Sector-specific recommendations for primary, secondary, FE, MATs, and AP settings
- A research-informed model for identifying and closing inclusion gaps
The GEC Platform builds on this by providing:
- Real-time dashboards showing inclusion patterns
- Contextualised reporting aligned to Ofsted and DfE frameworks
- Co-designed surveys developed with researchers and school leaders
- Action planning tools, CPD pathways, and measurable progress tracking
This isn’t about being told what to do. It’s about being supported to lead meaningful, sustainable change—ethically, strategically, and systemically.
Built by the Profession, for the Profession
This work comes from inside the system. As a former English teacher, senior leader, and now inclusion researcher and EdTech founder, I know how hard it is to turn good intentions into lasting impact. That’s why the GEC Platform doesn’t add to workload—it reframes it. With the right insight and support, inclusion becomes the foundation for improvement, not an add-on.
Start Next Term as You Mean to Go On
Want to see how the GEC Platform can support your setting?
- Download the full report:
www.thegec.education/the-research
- Book a 1:1 demo or call:
www.thegec.education/the-technology
Let’s turn these 26,000 voices into lasting, inclusive change.