Honouring our Communities

Wayne Reid portrait

Written by Wayne Reid

Professional Officer & Social Worker

Black History Month invites us to pause, remember, acknowledge and celebrate.  However, I would like to see Black history and the reflections it invites being recognised routinely – all year round.

At its simplest, I see ‘community’ as people connected by location, common interests, characteristics or social identity.  Although, ‘community’ is much more than just geography or categorisation.  It’s about relationships, experiences, knowledge, stories and values that exist between people – providing belonging, identity, ‘tough love’, support and opportunity.  Communities have the potential to shape us in ways we don’t always realise until much later in life.

One person from my own professional community who has had a particularly significant influence on my life was a previous manager at the National Probation Service.  I refer to him in OUTLANDERS: Hidden Narratives from Social Workers of Colour (in the chapter ‘Ambition Navigation’), because he gave me my first proper frontline role and remains in my orbit.

That opportunity mattered.

Sometimes one person’s recognition of potential can change the direction of a career.  A manager can open a door, a colleague can build confidence and a schoolteacher can shape aspirations.  As a child, a schoolteacher told me that Black people cannot swim…  A stereotype perpetuated by the historic lack of visibility of Black swimmers.

Representation matters – but on its own it’s not enough.  People need authenticity, diverse perspectives and forums to articulate their experiences, share their knowledge and demonstrate their expertise.  That understanding has significantly influenced my approach to care and leadership.

My own cultural insights have taught me the importance of valuing the diversity within communities, which is sometimes overlooked in favour of assuming cultural homogeneity.  We need to move beyond simplistic assumptions about race, culture and identity and appreciate the shared humanity that exists both within and between cultures.  This is partly why I founded the Black & Ethnic Minority Professionals Symposium (BPS) and created the Synergy Sessions.

This is also where Shades of Bias (SoB) relates to the idea of community.  SoB is a reflective case-study framework for documenting, analysing and addressing discrimination, oppression and racism.  At its heart, is an invitation to pause, examine what has happened, consider our own perspectives and think about what needs to happen next.  Communities don’t exist outside the influence of bias. They are shaped by the assumptions, attitudes and behaviours of the people within them.

We all have a unique lens through which we see the world.  

Therefore, I would advise anyone starting out in social work to be self-aware: anticipate that others may label, stereotype and categorise you – while recognising your own inescapable racialised lens.  Self-awareness isn’t about pretending that we are neutral or colourblind observers.  Our experiences, identities, upbringings and environments influence how we interpret people and situations.

Reflective practice also means being prepared to ask questions (which may be uncomfortable) – not only of ourselves, but of the people, environments and systems around us.  Such questions include:

  • What might my own racial lens be obstructing me from seeing?
  • Whose perspective, experience or voice is missing?
  • Would the same situation be interpreted, scrutinised or responded to in the same way for different racialised groups?

How can we evidence that our policies, decision-making and organisational practices are effective, equitable and inclusive?  This question connects directly to the Social Care Workforce Race Equality Standard (SC-WRES), which uses evidence to identify racial inequalities, develop action plans and drive continuous organisational improvement.  Its latest findings show that staff from minoritised ethnic backgrounds are 44% less likely to be appointed from shortlist and 50% more likely to face formal disciplinary action, while remaining underrepresented in senior management.

That tells us something important: reflection cannot stop at the individual.  We need to examine cultures, structures, policies and decision-making, asking not only “What did I do?” but “What is happening here?  Why?  Who is affected?  What can we do differently?”

The recent statement from the BPS following the tragic death of Professor Jason Arday reinforces this principle.  The statement calls for reflection on professional accountability, institutional decision-making, racialised scrutiny, media representation and public commentary, while emphasising the importance of fairness, proportionality, humanity and dignity.

That message connects powerfully with SoB.  We can hold people and institutions accountable, while still recognising their humanity; challenge racism while remaining capable of honest conversations about professional standards and scrutinise institutions while appreciating the complexity of individual circumstances.  We can ask difficult questions without losing our compassion.  Reflection should not be mistaken for an absence of accountability.  It should create the conditions for accountability that is thoughtful, proportionate and humane.

This brings me back to Black History Month.  Perhaps controversially, I don’t think Black history, culture and achievement should be confined to October.  Black history should be acknowledged, taught and celebrated all year round.  It should not be reduced predominantly to colonialism, slavery and oppression.  Those histories must be understood, but they are not the entirety of Black history.  We also need to hear about the stories of innovation, scholarship, creativity, leadership, entrepreneurship, community building, scientific achievement and cultural influence.  We also need the countless stories of ordinary people whose contributions have profoundly shaped their families, communities and descendants.  If a broad and representative Black history is integrated throughout all stages of education, it becomes part of the story – rather than tokenistic or an afterthought.

Honouring our communities means celebrating the people who opened doors for us, stories that shaped us and the experiences that challenge us to think differently.  Communities are not static.  They evolve through relationships, disagreements, learning and collective action.  Also, importantly, it means understanding our own responsibility within them.

Black History Month can provide a valuable moment of focus, but the greater challenge is what happens after October.  

Do we revert back to “all lives matter”?  

Or does our learning influence how we see, listen, lead and act?

For me, genuine recognition isn’t a month.  It’s a mindset.

It’s about creating communities and spaces where people are not simply represented, but heard.  Not simply included, but uplifted.  Not simply present, but able to influence the environments we live and work in.

That is how we honour our communities – by remembering our histories (good, bad and ugly), acknowledging our shared humanity, learning from past experiences and helping shape a future in which every community can be seen, heard and valued.

“One world, one race… the human race!”

Have you used Shades of Bias?  

Please share your experiences by completing the SoB survey.


Racial Equity in Sheffield: From Commitment to Collective Action

Hannah Wilson portrait

Written by Hannah Wilson

Founder and Director of the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators).

On Friday, I co-organised and co-hosted a Racial Equity Conference in Sheffield for our partners, Sheffield City Council and Learn Sheffield, in collaboration with our Belonging Effect Associate, Homaira Ibrahim.

We opened the day with Simon Sinek’s Golden Circle, inviting everyone in the room to reflect on and share their why. Why were we there? Why does racial equity matter to us? Why are we committed to doing this work?

Before beginning the programme, we also stood together to show our respect and collectively share our condolences with the family, friends and colleagues of Professor Jason Arday.

It was a poignant way to begin a day centred on race, equity, inclusion and belonging.

But the conference was not simply an opportunity to talk about racial equity. It was an opportunity to explore what racial equity looks like when we examine our systems, interrogate our practice, listen to different lived experiences and consider what we are collectively prepared to change.

Because intention matters. But intention alone does not create equity.

Context and collective responsibility

Our first contributions located the conversation firmly within Sheffield.

Fatima Khan-Shah, Chair of the Race Equality Partnership Sheffield (REPS), explored Sheffield’s race equity journey and the role of REPS, highlighting how race equity sits at the heart of the city’s goals and considering the particular role that education and schools play within this wider context.

Meredith Teasdale-Dixon, Strategic Director at Sheffield City Council, focused on responsibility. How do leaders improve outcomes for children and families across Sheffield? How do we create more equitable opportunities and experiences? And importantly, how do we ensure that our commitment results in measurable change?

Dr Shirley Woods-Gallagher, Assistant Director at Sheffield City Council, then explored belonging through an anti-racist lens.

Her contribution connected race, identity, power and inclusion with wellbeing, achievement and community cohesion. Drawing on Sheffield’s citywide Belonging Framework and wider inclusion work, she challenged us to consider how anti-racist practice moves beyond policies and statements of intent and becomes visible in our everyday behaviours, relationships and decision-making.

There was an important thread emerging: racial equity cannot belong to one team, one strategy, one leader or one organisation – it requires collective responsibility. It also requires effort as mentors, coaches and sponsors. Shirley’s role as mentor coach acting as the ladder and lamp for an AuDHD Black trainee teacher really stood out for very many of the audience. 

Moving from allyship to advocacy

My contribution to the day focused on allyship and advocacy and, specifically, the journey we take as allies. I invited colleagues to reflect on privilege, vulnerability and our willingness to get things wrong.

Anti-racist work can create discomfort. It can surface strong emotions. It can challenge our perception of ourselves as inclusive people and force us to recognise the occasions when our intentions and our impact have not aligned. But discomfort cannot become an excuse for disengagement.

We need to develop the confidence and courage to create and hold safe spaces for difficult conversations. We need to become more comfortable with being challenged, with learning from mistakes and with recognising what we do not yet know. And we need to be prepared to challenge language, behaviours, decisions and practices that exclude or disadvantage others.

Jennifer Brown’s Allyship Continuum invites us to consider a journey from Apathetic to Aware, from Aware to Active, and ultimately from Active to Advocate.

Perhaps one of the most important questions we can ask ourselves is not simply:

Where do I think I am on that continuum?

But:

What evidence would somebody else use to place me there?

Allyship is not something we declare. It is something other people experience through our choices, behaviours and actions.

Holding the space for inclusion and belonging

Professor Paul Miller, from the Institute for Equity at University Centre, challenged us through his provocation, Democratic Failure or Democratic Resistance: Holding the Centre-Ground in the Fight for Inclusion and Belonging.

His contribution created space for us to think about the wider environment in which our work is taking place and the importance of continuing to engage with questions of inclusion and belonging when they are contested.

Anti-racist practice does not happen in isolation from society. Our schools, organisations and communities are influenced by the narratives, tensions and inequalities that exist beyond their walls.

This means that our commitment to equity cannot simply be reactive. It requires us to understand the context in which we are leading and educating, while remaining clear about our responsibility to create environments in which every child, family and colleague can experience dignity, safety and belonging.

Intersectionality changes what we see

One of the most important themes of the day was intersectionality. Too often, our organisational approaches separate different aspects of inclusion into parallel workstreams. Race sits here. SEND sits there. Gender, faith, socio-economic disadvantage and other aspects of identity sit somewhere else. But people do not experience their identities separately.

Domini Choudhury, Associate at The Belonging Effect, explored what happens when we frame SEND intersectionally. Her session challenged colleagues to consider the multi-layered barriers some learners and their families navigate when trying to have their needs recognised and met. These include societal and systemic barriers within the SEND system itself, but also culturally specific barriers to diagnosis and support.

Cultural and religious frameworks can shape how disability and additional needs are understood. Practitioner bias and unconscious assumptions can influence whose needs are recognised, how behaviours are interpreted and what support is offered.

This creates an important challenge for leaders:

  • What happens when we interrogate our SEND data through an intersectional lens?
  • Who is being identified?
  • Who is not?
  • Who receives support, and when?
  • Whose behaviour is interpreted as a need and whose is interpreted as a problem?

The data we collect matters. But the questions we are prepared to ask of that data matter too.

Language, identity and the experiences of Black boys

Johnoi Josephs and Albert Adeyemi, founders of Black Men Teach, focused our attention on the educational experiences of Black boys. Their contribution explored the relationship between the language we use and the realities and self-belief we help to create.

Language is never neutral. The words we use to describe children communicate expectations. They shape relationships. They influence how other adults perceive a child and, over time, can influence how that child perceives themselves.

Johnoi and Albert invited us to think intentionally about how we build pride, belonging and positive identity both inside and outside the classroom, and how we create accessible and empowering learning environments in which Black boys can thrive.

This requires us to move beyond deficit narratives and ask different questions:

  • Not What is wrong with this child?
  • But What might this child be experiencing?
  • Not Why will this family not engage?
  • But What barriers might we have created to engagement?
  • Not simply How do we raise achievement?
  • But How do we create the conditions in which children feel seen, valued, understood and able to succeed?

Whose lived experience are we centring?

Olivia Morrison from The Traveller Movement brought another vital perspective to the conversation. Her session explored the discrimination experienced by Romani (Gypsy), Roma and Irish Traveller people, the equality gaps that persist, and the importance of working in genuine partnership with the communities. 

Central to this was the need to centre lived experience within anti-racist activity. There is an important distinction between designing for communities and working with them.

If we are serious about equity, we cannot assume that professional expertise gives us all of the answers. We need to listen to people whose experiences of our institutions and systems may be very different from the experiences we believe we are creating. That requires humility. It also requires us to ask who is missing from the conversations in which decisions about them are being made.

Bringing the conversation back to Sheffield

Homaira Ibrahim, Race Equality Partnership Manager at Sheffield City Council and Belonging Effect Associate, brought the different threads of the day back together through the specific context of race, ethnicity and belonging in Sheffield schools. She shared findings from Sheffield’s Race Equality Commission and its recommendations for education, alongside the city’s ethnicity data and current landscape.

She also highlighted the work of AREAS, the Anti Racist Education Alliance Sheffield, the support available for Sheffield schools and opportunities for future collaboration.

This was important. National conversations help us understand patterns and systems. Research helps us understand evidence. Lived experience helps us understand impact. But ultimately, equity work also has to become local:

  • What does our data tell us about our children?
  • What are our families telling us?
  • What patterns can we see within our institutions?
  • And what are we going to do about them?

From conversation to collective action

We ended the day with roundtable discussions prompted by Sheffield City Council’s Director of Belonging, Steve Kay.

Three questions were posed:

  1. What support, resources or opportunities would help you further develop your anti-racist practice?
  2. What actions can we take collectively to improve outcomes and opportunities for Roma children, families and communities?
  3. How can we strengthen engagement with marginalised groups to ensure equitable access to Early Years provision?

For me, these questions captured something important about the day. They moved us from What have we heard? to What are we going to do?

Because conferences can create powerful moments of reflection, connection and learning. But the real test comes afterwards – what changes when we return to our schools, teams, organisations and communities?

We show up. We stand up. We speak up. We check in.

We ended the conference by making commitments: 

  • We show up – Not only when conversations are comfortable or when racial equity is on the agenda, but consistently.
  • We stand up – We challenge inequity when we encounter it. We notice who has power, who has access, who is heard and who may be overlooked.
  • We speak up – We use our voices, our influence and our privilege to challenge exclusion and advocate alongside others.
  • We check in – We listen. We reflect. We seek feedback. We examine our impact. And when necessary, we change our approach.

Anti-racist practice requires us to move through the fear zone, into the learning zone and onwards into the growth zone. It requires curiosity, humility and courage. And it requires action.

The question is not simply whether we care about racial equity. I imagine that most people who chose to spend Friday in that room do.

The harder questions come next:

  • What will we notice that we did not notice before?
  • What will we question that we previously accepted?
  • Whose experiences will we seek to understand?
  • What conversations will we now be willing to have?
  • What will we challenge?
  • What will we change?

Because our commitment to racial equity cannot be measured solely by what we say in rooms where people have gathered because they already care about it. It must be visible in what happens when we leave those rooms. That is where awareness becomes action. That is where allyship becomes advocacy. And that is where we begin shaping intention into impact.

Continue the learning

For those wanting to continue their learning and reflection, my recommended reading from the day was Emma Dabiri’s What White People Can Do Next.

Professor Miller has also shared the article that he cited in his talk: A common enemy approach to anti-racism in higher education | THE Campus Learn, Share, Connect 

The Belonging Effect also has a range of free resources to support individuals, schools and organisations in developing their DEIB practice, including our DEIB Calendar, blogs, toolkits, reading lists and glossaries.

Further development opportunities discussed during the day included Sheffield City Council’s Developing Racial Literacy programme, The Belonging Effect’s Diverse Leaders programme, and our Anti-Racism Virtual Conference.

The conference may have ended on Friday. The work, of course, needs to continue and be sustained.


Cultivating a Culture of Belonging: It Is Never ‘Done’

Hannah Wilson portrait

Written by Hannah Wilson

Founder and Director of the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators).

Last week, I had the privilege of chairing a panel at the IAPS Heads’ Conference exploring a question that sits at the heart of my work: how do we cultivate a culture of belonging for all?

I was joined by three school leaders, Charlotte Crookes, Fergus Llewellyn and Sadia Hussain-Savuk, who generously shared their personal and professional journeys through Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Belonging (DEIB).

What struck me throughout our conversation was not a claim to expertise or a presentation of perfectly packaged solutions. Instead, there was honesty, vulnerability and a willingness to share what had been learnt along the way. Their reflective and inclusive leadership modelled how we need to show up to start the work and how we position ourselves in order to sustain it.  

Belonging is not something we complete

I framed our conversation by considering what we actually mean when we talk about belonging. For me, belonging is about being seen, heard, included, valued and safe. It is about being able to bring our whole selves into a space without having to edit, minimise or leave parts of our identity at the door.

Belonging is not something we achieve, tick off and move on from. It is dynamic. It is relational. It is contextual. Most importantly, it is cyclical.

As our communities change, our understanding needs to change with them. As we learn more about the lived experiences of our pupils, staff and families, we need to be prepared to question practices that may once have seemed inclusive. As the world beyond our school gates changes, we need to consider what those changes mean for the people within them.

The work is never ‘done’.

Looking in the mirror before looking out of the window

One of the recurring themes in our discussion was the importance of reflection. Before asking what everybody else needs to change, leaders need to be prepared to look closely at themselves and their organisations:

  • Who feels that they belong here?
  • Who does not?
  • Whose voices are heard most loudly?
  • Whose experiences might we be missing?
  • Who has learnt to navigate our culture successfully, and who is expected to adapt themselves in order to fit in?

And, perhaps most provocatively for independent schools: are we really as inclusive as we believe ourselves to be?

These are not comfortable questions. Nor should they be. Cultivating belonging requires us to look in the mirror before we look out of the window.

Responding to the world beyond the school gates

Our conversation also explored the responsibility schools have to respond to what is happening in wider society. I asked Charlotte to reflect on her journey through anti-racism and racial equity, and how school leaders respond when racism, division and social unrest become increasingly visible beyond the school gates.

These moments matter.

Children and young people do not leave the outside world at reception when they arrive at school. Neither do their families or our colleagues. News stories, political discourse, racism, discrimination and social tensions enter our classrooms through the experiences, fears, questions and conversations of the people in them.

Silence communicates something too.

This does not mean leaders need to have an immediate answer to every complex issue. Leadership is not about having all the answers. It is about how we respond when things are difficult, how we support others and the culture we create around us.

Sometimes courageous leadership begins by acknowledging that we do not have all of the answers and need to learn.

Listening to lived experience

Fergus shared reflections from a journey that has considered a range of identities and, crucially, has involved listening to stakeholders about their experiences of school. This is fundamental to bringing the whole school community with us on the journey.

We cannot measure belonging simply by looking at policies, representation or what leaders intended to create. We have to ask people what it feels like to be there. There can be a significant perception gap between our intention and somebody else’s experience.

Listening helps us find that gap. But listening needs to go beyond consultation. If we repeatedly ask people to share their experiences without demonstrating what we have heard, what we have learnt and what we will change, we risk creating consultation fatigue rather than belonging.

The question is not simply: ‘Have we asked?’ It is: ‘What have we changed because we listened?’

Young people should be co-creators, not consumers

Sadia brought another important dimension to the conversation: the role of young people themselves.

Our pupils care deeply about identity, equity and social justice. They notice inconsistency. They question systems. They experience our school cultures differently from the adults who lead them.

So why would we develop DEIB strategies for young people without developing them with young people? It reminds me of the commitment: nothing about us, without us.

Meaningful pupil voice is not about asking pupils to approve decisions that adults have already made. It means creating opportunities for young people to identify issues, shape priorities, challenge thinking and contribute to solutions.

When we involve pupils as co-creators, we communicate something powerful: your experience matters, your voice has value and you have agency within this community. That, in itself, cultivates belonging.

Courage without perfection

As we brought the panel to a close, I asked each panellist what advice they would give to leaders beginning, or developing, their own DEIB journey.

Several themes emerged:

  • Being willing to be vulnerable.
  • Acknowledging that it does not have to happen to you to matter to you.
  • Listening deeply to your stakeholders and involving them as co-creators.
  • Distributing responsibility so that inclusion does not become the work of one passionate individual.
  • Creating enough psychological safety for people to make mistakes, acknowledge them, learn from them and do better.
  • Taking tangible actions, such as signing up to the Halo Code, which challenges hair discrimination.
  • Getting started, with small tangible steps to create momentum.

We addressed the fact that one of the dangers of this work is believing that we need to know everything before we can do anything. We do not. We instead need humility, curiosity and courage. We need to know when to lead, when to listen, when to ask for help and when to acknowledge that our understanding has changed.

From intention to impact

I ended the session by thanking Charlotte, Fergus and Sadia for their courageous leadership and their candour. Their stories reminded us that inclusive leadership is not demonstrated by claiming to have got everything right. It is demonstrated by being willing to ask difficult questions, hear difficult answers and respond intentionally to what we learn.

The feedback following the panel reinforced this. One attendee reflected on leaving with a renewed commitment to ensuring every pupil feels ‘seen, safe, valued and supported’, and to creating a culture where belonging is not merely an aspiration but a lived experience.

That distinction matters as:

  • Most schools intend for children to belong.
  • Most leaders would say they value inclusion.
  • Most mission statements contain words such as respect, community, kindness or equality.

The challenge is not necessarily our intention. The real challenge is whether that intention is experienced by everybody.

So perhaps the questions we need to leave ourselves with are these:

  • Who belongs in our schools?
  • How do we know?
  • Who might experience our culture differently from the way we imagine it?
  • Whose voice have we not yet heard?
  • What are we prepared to change because of what we hear?

And ultimately:

  • How will we know when our intention has become impact?

Cultivating belonging is not a project, an initiative or a destination. It is an ongoing commitment to noticing, listening, learning and acting, and then having the courage to begin the cycle again.

Continue the conversation

At The Belonging Effect, our commitment is to Shaping Intention into Impact. Our team supports schools and organisations to move beyond good intentions and create cultures where belonging can be experienced, strengthened and measured.

References and resources

Explore our training and resources on The Belonging Effect website, including our Belonging Toolkit, and continue your professional learning with my book, Cultivating Belonging in Schools.


History’s Warning: Section 28 and the Fight for Future Educational Inclusion

Dr Kayden J Schumacher portrait

Written by Dr Kayden J. Schumacher

Dr. Kayden J. Schumacher (they/he) is a Research Fellow at Coventry University working across all work packages on the Horizon Europe-funded YOUROPE project, which focuses on strengthening youth participation in European democracy, particularly among underrepresented groups. With a multidisciplinary background spanning psychology, education, health, and social policy, their work explores the intersections of mental health, physical wellbeing, gender diversity, and democratic participation across educational and community settings.

“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

 (Santayana, 1905, p. 284)

In 1988 the then Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher and her Conservative Government responded with a moral panic to a same-sex couple in children’s book taking things out of proportion and aiming to pass legislation known as Section 28 (Lee, 2019). Section 28 was part of the Local Government Act (1988) and on paper, it was framed as a safeguard against “promoting homosexuality” in schools. But, in reality, it was a direct state-sanctioned silencing of LGBTQ+ people, specifically students and educators. Passing Section 28 made it against the law for any local authority to “(a) intentionally promote homosexuality or publish material with the intention of promoting homosexuality; (b) promote the teaching in any maintained school of the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship” (Local Government Act, 1988).

Looking back, it is staggering to think that such a discriminatory law ostracising an already marginalised group could take root in a country of people who had just been through the AIDS epidemic, where “Silence=Death” (Kerr, 2017) was not just a protest slogan but a daily reality. The 1980s moral climate in the UK was steeped in fear and stigma. Tabloid headlines fuelled homophobia, framing LGBT+ people as a public threat (Collins, 2025; Lovelock, 2018). Thatcher’s government leaned into “traditional family values,” capitalising on public anxieties about social change (Somerville, 1992). The moral panic around LGBT+ visibility in schools was amplified by broader conservative backlash against feminist gains, multiculturalism and what was labelled “political correctness” (Baker, 2022; Duffy, 2025; Weeks, 1990). Conservative MPs used the rhetoric of “protecting children,” but what they were really protecting was cisheteronormative dominance. 

Resistance to laws like Section 28 did exist, as it always has. In a now-iconic example, a group of lesbian activists broke into the BBC during the 6 o’clock live news broadcast to protest Section 28 and the harm of this legislation. Their message beamed into living rooms and pubs across the country and was widely noticed, but ultimately did not stop the law from passing, thereby cementing a culture of silence, bullying, and marginalisation in schools across England. For the next 15 years, Section 28 legitimised an environment where LGBT+ students and staff were erased, and where conversations about identity, consent, or healthy relationships could be construed as illegal. For trans and gender-diverse people, whose identities were barely recognised in mainstream discourse, the law meant complete erasure. 

When I arrived in England in September 2022, the very day Queen Elizabeth II passed away,  I was beginning a PhD exploring trans and gender-diverse experiences in English schools from 1988 to 2023. As someone who grew up in a small, homogeneous Catholic town in the US, hiding my pansexual and transgender identity for fear of backlash, I felt an immediate resonance with what my participants told me about their school years under Section 28. Their stories carried the same themes I had known of silence, shame, and the need to fragment oneself,  being one person in school and another in private. But unlike my own experience, their marginalisation was explicitly legislated.

Even after Section 28’s repeal in England in 2003, my participants described school as having a sort of “shadow” of Section 28, where there was an institutionalised culture of cisheteronormativity that persisted in school structures, policies and everyday interactions, despite the repeal of the law. There were still rigid binaries enforced in areas like PE, sex education, toilets, and classrooms. Mental health was rarely openly discussed, LGBT+ teachers often concealed their identities and bodies were policed according to narrow norms without affirmation or recognition of diversity. 

The 2010s gave the impression of progress. The Equality Act 2010 legally protected people against discrimination based on “sexual orientation” and “gender reassignment” (Equality Act, 2010, s.7). Ofsted began inspecting for homophobic bullying in 2012 (Ofsted, 2012). The first Trans Pride was held in Brighton in 2013 (McConnell, 2014). Same-sex marriage became legal in England and Wales in 2014, and media representation of trans people increased (BBC’s Boy Meets Girl, Lavern Cox on the Cover of Time, Jazz Jennings’ reality show), there was a perhaps naïve sense that visibility and policy change were working together to build a more inclusive future.

But if history teaches us anything, it is that progress is never linear. The current climate in the UK carries unsettling echoes of the past. Today the UK is seeing the re-emergence of very rigid gender binaries in public discourse, something that harms not only trans people, but everyone whose life does not neatly fit the “trad wife” (Bower, 2024) or “manosphere” (Ging, 2019) mould (More in Common, 2022). There is an increasing disregard for diversity across race, gender, sexual orientation, and religion. Emotional expression is again being boxed in with boys allowed anger but not vulnerability, and girls allowed fragility but not power. And while the internet boom was just  beginning in the 1980s, it promised connection and organising for change, it is now equally capable of isolating, surveilling, and policing interactions, echoing Section 28’s original aim: control.

The slogan, “Silence = Death” (Kerr, 2017), born from AIDS activism, still echoes with urgent clarity. Then, it was a rallying cry against government inaction during a health crisis, now, it is a warning, a reminder, and a call to resist the erasure of trans and gender-diverse lives in education and beyond. My research traces these legacies through the stories of trans and gender-diverse students and educators, showing that the repeal of Section 28 did not erase its shadows and its repeal cannot undo systemic harm. Laws can change, but cultures of silence linger, shaping classrooms, policies, and hearts. Section 28 teaches us that silence harms the most marginalised first, but its ripples reach everyone. Representation without structural change leaves the door open for backlash. We must be vigilant: attentive to how quickly silence can return, how rigid binaries can reassert themselves, and how appeals to “protecting children” can be wielded as instruments of control.

The work before us in our democratic society, especially in education is quiet but urgent, we must name injustice where it festers, nurture spaces for complexity, and ensure that trans and gender-diverse students and educators never again endure the sanctioned invisibility that once passed for law. Visibility alone is not enough. Genuine inclusion demands action, care, and relentless attention so that the lessons of the past guide us, the voices of the present are heard, and the future is shaped by courage rather than fear, only then can we ensure we all have remembered the past and are not condemned to repeat it. 

References

Baker, P. (2022). Outrageous!: The story of Section 28 and Britain’s battle for LGBT+

education. Reaktion Books.

Bower, L. J. (2024). The thorn in feminism’s side: black feminist reconceptualization and

defence of #tradwives and the #tradwife movement. Journal of Gender Studies, 1–17.

https://doi.org/10.1080/09589236.2024.2423198

Duffy, S. (2025). Moral panics and legal projects: echoes of Section 28 in United Kingdom

transgender discourse and law reform. Gender and Justice, 1(1), 78-99. Retrieved

Aug 15, 2025, from https://doi.org/10.1332/30333660Y2024D000000008

Equality Act 2010, s. 7. (2010). Legislation.gov.uk. Retrieved from

https://www.legislation.gov.uk/ukpga/2010/15/section/7

Ging, D. (2019). Alphas, betas, and incels: Theorizing the masculinities of the

manosphere. Men and masculinities, 22(4), 638-657. 

Kerr, T. (2017 June 20). How Six NYC Activists Changed History With ‘Silence =

Death’. The Village Voice. https://www.villagevoice.com/how-six-nyc-activists changed-history-with-silence-death/

Lee, C. (2019). Fifteen years on: the legacy of section 28 for LGBT+ teachers in English

schools. Sex Education, 19(6), 675–690.

https://doi.org/10.1080/14681811.2019.1585800

Local Government Act 1988, c. 9, s. 28. (1988). Legislation.gov.uk. Retrieved from

https://www.legislation.gov.uk/ukpga/1988/9/section/28

Lovelock, M. (2018). Sex, death and austerity: resurgent homophobia in the British tabloid

press. Critical Studies in Media Communication, 35(3), 225-239.

McConnell, F. (2014, September 8). Trans Pride Brighton defines key year for emerging

community. The Guardian. Retrieved from

https://www.theguardian.com/society/2014/sep/08/-sp-trans-pride-brighton-lgbt-equality

More in Common UK. (2022). Britons and gender identity: Navigating common ground and

division. https://www.moreincommon.org.uk/media/giljcopo/britons-and-gender-identity-navigating-common-ground-and-division-june-2022.pdf

Collins, M. (2025). “Gays in Your Living Room”: LGBTQ+ television, homophobia, and the

birth of Channel 4 in 1980s Britain. Journalism History, 51(1), 5-23.

Ofsted. (2012). School inspection handbook: handbook for inspecting schools in England

under section 5 of the Education Act 2005 (as amended) from September 2012.

https://dera.ioe.ac.uk/id/eprint/14742/1/Handbook_for_school_inspection_from_Septmber_2012%5B1%5D.pdf

Somerville J. (1992). The New Right and family politics. Economy and society, 21(2), 93

  1. https://doi.org/10.1080/03085149200000006

Weeks, J. (1990). Coming Out: Homosexual Politics in Britain from the Nineteenth Century

to the Present. Quartet Books.


RIP Professor Jason Arday: The Tragic Cost of Scrutiny

Hannah Wilson portrait

Written by Hannah Wilson

Founder and Director of the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators).

Rest in peace, Professor Jason Arday.

The news of his death at just 41 years old is heartbreaking and devastating. A partner, father, son, friend and colleague has been lost.

My social media timeline is awash with tributes to a man who impacted so many. I never met Professor Jason Arday, but I followed and admired him from afar. I feel deeply sad at his loss, angry at how he was treated and sick to my stomach that we find ourselves standing at yet another crossroads where our shared humanity is being questioned.

Professor Arday, a working-class Black man, became the youngest Black professor in the University of Cambridge’s history. His remarkable journey, scholarship and leadership should be remembered and celebrated.

His death is a devastating loss to education. It should also make us confront some difficult questions about racism, scrutiny, trauma, mental health, the media and institutional responsibility.

Content warning: This article discusses mental health, racism and death.

Contribution

Professor Jason Arday dedicated his life to challenging inequality in education, opening doors for those too often left outside them and pushing institutions to become more reflective of the society they serve.

His work helped shape important conversations about race, social mobility, inclusion and educational justice.

A post by The Black Curriculum reminds us that in moments like these, we all have a choice about the stories we amplify. Let us not reduce a life of service, scholarship and advocacy to its final chapter:

  • Let us remember the work.
  • Let us remember the impact.
  • Let us remember the lives changed because he dared to imagine something better.

We need to drive the right narrative, to honour the legacy and to remember the work.

Accusations, Accountability and Humanity

Professor Arday faced serious public accusations concerning his academic work and other aspects of his record. He disputed allegations of deliberate wrongdoing, and some previous allegations had not been upheld.

I fully agree that questions about academic integrity deserve proper scrutiny.

Accountability matters. Investigations matter. Evidence matters. Truth matters.

But people matter too.

An investigation should never become a process in which we forget there is a human being at its centre.

Professor Arday’s family has spoken about the impact of sustained abuse, harassment and misinformation. The precise circumstances surrounding his death have not yet been established publicly, and we should be careful not to claim a medical or legal cause that has not been confirmed.

But acknowledging that uncertainty does not require us to ignore the context in which his death occurred.

Everyone deserves fairness, due process and an opportunity to respond to allegations without being subjected to relentless public humiliation. Scrutiny and accountability are not the same as dehumanisation.

The Media

I firmly believe that our media needs to take a long, hard look at itself.

Professor Arday was subjected to an extraordinary level of public scrutiny. NEWSCORD has catalogued 249 articles published about him over a period of just 22 days.

Think about that… Two hundred and forty-nine articles… Twenty-two days…

Front pages and headlines are not produced in a vacuum. Editors decide which stories deserve repeated attention. Algorithms reward outrage and engagement. Audiences click, share, comment and search for the next revelation.

Collectively, a human being can become content.

Whatever the rights and wrongs of the allegations against Professor Arday, we must be able to ask whether this level and intensity of scrutiny was proportionate and in the public interest.

We must also be prepared to ask another, more uncomfortable question:

Would everybody have been subjected to the same scrutiny?

This is where it is important that we need to acknowledge and talk about racism.

If we cast our memories back to 1993 when Stephen Lawrence was murdered, there was public outcry at the time about the wrongdoing. The media focused on the individuals and the institutions who were in the wrong to ensure that they were held to account. This led to a lengthy investigation and the publication of the Macpherson Report in 1999. It famously concluded that the Metropolitan Police investigation failed due to “institutional racism,” professional incompetence, and a lack of leadership.

I am curious who will be holding to account the individuals and institutions who are collectively responsible for Professor Arday’s death. I wonder who will drive this justice forward for him and for his family.

Racism, Scrutiny and the Invisible Weight

Racism has severe consequences.

It is not always a racial slur or an explicitly discriminatory act. It can operate through systems, cultures, expectations and patterns of behaviour. It can shape who is presumed competent, who is given the benefit of the doubt, who is scrutinised most intensely, whose mistakes are survivable and whose mistakes become defining.

Professor Arday’s death has prompted many Black academics, educators and leaders to speak publicly about the racialised nature of scrutiny and the invisible weight of occupying spaces in which people like them remain underrepresented.

That invisible weight matters:

  • The weight of representation.
  • The weight of being “the first”.
  • The weight of knowing that your success may be treated as evidence of progress while your mistakes may be used as evidence against an entire agenda for equality.
  • The weight of wondering whether you will be afforded the same grace as others.
  • The weight of having to be resilient again and again and again.

Racism creates trauma. The cumulative experience of racism can affect mental health, physical health which in turn impacts individual levels of confidence, trust, safety, hope and belonging.

We cannot discuss what happened to Professor Arday without being willing to discuss that context.

In His Own Words

A few weeks ago, I signed the Good Law Project’s Solidarity Letter supporting Professor Arday.

On 5 August, as a signatory I received a personal update from him confirming that he had resigned from his position at the University of Cambridge.

He reflected on becoming the youngest Black professor in Cambridge’s history, something he said he could scarcely have imagined as a child growing up with autism and not speaking until he was 11.

More significantly, he described the personal impact of the scrutiny he was experiencing. He wrote of the “profound toll” the accusations, speculation and public commentary had taken on him and those he loved.

And then came the sentence that, reading it again now, feels particularly heart-breaking: “But there comes a point when the personal cost becomes too great.”

He spoke about wanting to be present for his family. He wanted peace… privacy… an ordinary life. He no longer wanted to live under a constant spotlight in which every aspect of his life was subjected to public examination and judgement.

I think we should sit with those words. Sit with that discomfort. Sit with the knowledge that his Black Excellence had led to such significant personal harm. 

Institutional Racism

The Macpherson Report famously described institutional racism as the collective failure of an organisation to provide an appropriate and professional service because of someone’s colour, culture or ethnic origin, manifested through processes, attitudes and behaviours that disadvantage minority ethnic people.

Sivanandan, A. Director, Institute of Race Relations, described institutional racism as racism residing, overtly or covertly, within the policies, procedures, operations and cultures of institutions.

These definitions matter because they remind us, as The Commission for Racial Equality stated,  that racism does not require an individual person to consciously decide to behave in a racist way.

We need to look at patterns, processes, cultures and consequences.

We need to ask the hard questions about who currently benefits from our systems:

  • Who is harmed by them?
  • Who is protected?
  • Who is exposed?
  • Who is believed?
  • Who is given grace?
  • And who is required to demonstrate exceptional resilience merely to remain in the room?

A lens I emphasise in our Belonging Effect DEIB training is that our focus should be on the impact instead of the intention of our words, behaviours and actions.   

There is not an individual who is solely responsible for Professor Arday’s death, there are many people with his blood on their hands. 

Representation Matters, but Representation Is Not Enough

Success does not insulate Black professionals from racism, hostility or harassment. In fact, sometimes increased visibility can make the scrutiny greater.

For people of colour occupying significant positions, there can be an invisible mental load attached to being highly visible and underrepresented: the fear of getting something wrong, of being judged more harshly, of being expected to represent more than yourself, or of discovering how precarious acceptance can become when something goes wrong.

That burden must be recognised because representation alone is not inclusion.

Representation without protection is not inclusion.

Visibility without psychological safety is not belonging.

And celebrating someone’s resilience while ignoring what requires them to be resilient in the first place is not progress.

Institutional Responsibility

Universities and the media need to take a long, hard look in the mirror.

It is not enough for institutions to recruit diverse talent, celebrate “firsts”, publish photographs, announce appointments and point to representation as evidence of progress.

Institutions have a responsibility to the human beings behind those achievements:

  • What happens when they become vulnerable?
  • Who protects them when scrutiny becomes overwhelming?
  • Who notices when accountability becomes humiliation?
  • Who intervenes when criticism becomes harassment?
  • Who considers the cumulative impact of racism, ableism, classism and public scrutiny?
  • Who safeguards the person while the process takes place?

We need to lead institutions where people do not have to become exceptionally resilient simply to survive them.

Professor Jason Arday’s death should not become another moment of collective grief followed by institutional silence.

I think it is important to remember that we can hold two things at once:

  • We can believe in academic integrity and humanity.
  • We can believe in accountability and proportionality.
  • We can believe in scrutiny and dignity.
  • We can ask legitimate questions about someone’s work without forgetting that there is a human being answering them.

And we can acknowledge that racism does not have to be the only factor operating in a situation for us to examine seriously how race shaped what happened.

My thoughts are with Professor Arday’s family, friends, colleagues and all those mourning him. I have discovered in the last 24 hrs how many of my network were connected to him and have been impacted by his death.  

May he rest in peace. May we learn from this tragic loss.

Read, Reflect and Act

Read and engage with the reflections being shared across our network and wider community, including those from: Adam Vasco, Caroline Keep, Chantelle Haughton, Clive Lawrence, Domini Choudhury, Patrick Cozier, Shammi Rahman,  The Black Curriculum.

Read Broken Ladders from The Runnymede Trust and consider what the evidence tells us about racism and the experiences of people of colour within UK academia.

Follow, listen to and engage with organisations campaigning for racial equity and racial justice, including: 100 Black Professors, 100 Black Headteachers, Aspiring Heads, BAMEed, DARPL, Everyday Racism, REND, The Black Curriculum and The Runnymede Trust. (Lots of these orgs are listed in our DEIB Directory).

Consider filing a complaint against the media outlets that printed endless stories about Professor Jason Arday.

Consider donating to the GoFundMe page set up by Professor Sir Patrick Vernon OBE FrHistS – ‘In Memory of Dr Jason Atta Kwei Arday: Supporting His Family’. 

Most importantly, do not let this conversation disappear when the headlines do.

Racism has consequences. Institutional responsibility matters. Our shared humanity matters.


Language in the Classroom: The Signals We Send

Amy Wilby portrait

Written by Amy Wilby

I am an experienced senior educational leader, currently serving as an Assistant Headteacher with responsibility for Curriculum, as well as a Trust-wide DEIB Champion, edublogger, and proud mum to a 21-year-old son. Since qualifying as a teacher in 2009, I have built a career rooted in both academic excellence and strong pastoral care. I bring extensive experience across middle and senior leadership, including roles as a Specialist Leader of Education (SLE) and Associate Assistant Headteacher. I hold an NPQSL and a master’s degree in educational leadership, and I am deeply committed to evidence-informed practice, drawing on educational research to enhance teaching, learning, and curriculum design.

Walk into any classroom and you’ll hear a constant flow of language, questions, instructions, feedback, encouragement. It’s so familiar that it can feel almost invisible.

But there’s a deeper question we don’t ask often enough:

What are our words actually signalling to students, and how are they being received?

Because language doesn’t just deliver learning.
It shapes expectations, communicates beliefs, and quietly influences who feels confident, capable, and included. It can also show our own bias, our own understanding of what is an is not acceptable.

If curriculum is what we teach, and literacy is how students access and participate, then language is how belonging is communicated, both directly and indirectly.

The hidden layer: micro-signals in everyday language

Most classroom language is not part of a formal plan. It lives in the small, repeated interactions:

  • how we respond to a wrong answer (Nonverbal cues as well as verbal ones)
  • who we call on, and how often
  • the tone we use when giving instructions
  • the way we frame challenge or difficulty
  • the ways we build engagement and excitement in our classrooms

These are micro-signals, subtle, often unintentional cues that students pick up quickly.

Over time, they begin to answer questions like:

  • Am I seen as capable here?
  • Is it safe to take risks?
  • Do my contributions matter?

Students don’t just listen to what we say.
They interpret what it means about them.

The Pygmalion versus the Golem effect!

Your expectations matter and the subtext of your language and choices will have an impact.

‘The belief the teachers had in the students’ potential had been unwittingly and nonverbally communicated. More important, these nonverbal messages were then digested by the students and transformed into reality.’ (Acher. S, 2010)

Tone: more powerful than we think

Two teachers can say similar words and send completely different messages.

Consider:

  • ‘Not quite. Try again.’
  • ‘Not quite yet, let’s think it through together.’

The difference is small, but the signal is significant.

Tone communicates:

  • belief (or doubt) in a student’s ability
  • patience (or frustration)
  • partnership (or hierarchy in the classroom) 
    • Which classroom environment would you rather take risks in? Which classroom highlights the importance of metacognition and learning the steps? Which one is stressful and the focus on the outcome only?

When tone consistently signals respect and belief, students are more likely to stay engaged, even when learning feels difficult.

Expectations: what we imply, not just what we say

High expectations are often discussed in terms of outcomes. But in practice, they are communicated through language every day.

For example:

  • ‘This is tricky, so I don’t expect everyone to get it’
    vs
  • ‘This is challenging, and I’m going to support you to get there’

The first lowers the bar, even if unintentionally.
The second maintains high expectations while offering support.

Students are highly attuned to these cues. Over time, they internalise them:

  • who is expected to succeed?
  • who is expected to struggle?
  • who gets stretched, and who doesn’t?

Ultimately this leads to,

  •  ‘Who believes in their ability to succeed, and who doesn’t’?
  •  ‘Who wants to be here, and who doesn’t?’
  • ‘Who is going to mask their struggle with other behaviours and who is going to embrace it’?

Inclusive classrooms are not those where work is made easier, but where expectations are consistently high and clearly supported.

Framing: how we position learning

The way we frame tasks and responses shapes how students experience learning.

Deficit framing might sound like:

  • ‘Some of you didn’t understand this’
  • ‘This group struggled with…’
  • ‘You are set… and therefore we are doing something different…’

Asset-based framing shifts the perspective:

  • ‘Let’s build on what we’ve started here’
  • ‘Here’s where we can go next’
  • ‘Learning starts only once it gets tough. Thinking and working hard is good!’

This doesn’t ignore gaps, it reframes them as part of the learning process, rather than a fixed limitation.

Similarly, how we respond to mistakes matters:

  • Are they signals of failure?
  • Or are they positioned as a normal, valuable part of learning?

The language we choose answers this for students.

The risk: when language goes unchecked

Just as curriculum can become tokenistic, classroom language can become habitual, and habits are powerful.

Without reflection, we may unintentionally:

  • call on the same students repeatedly
  • soften expectations for some and not others
  • use praise that is uneven or limiting. Focusing on the student rather than the choices (‘You’re so clever’ vs ‘That strategy worked well’)
  • signal frustration more quickly with certain learners

None of this is usually deliberate.
But over time, these patterns can shape students’ sense of where they fit.

And again, students notice.

What this looks like in practice

The strength of focusing on classroom language is that it’s an immediate, actionable shift.

You don’t need to redesign the curriculum.
You need to become more intentional with what you’re already saying.

  1. Pause and notice patterns
  • Who do you respond to most?
  • Whose answers are extended, and whose are closed down?
  • When does your tone shift?
  • If a student doesn’t know the answer, how do you frame this as a learning opportunity rather than a failure?
  1. Make belief explicit
  • ‘I know you will absolutely give your best to this’
  • ‘I believe in you’ (supported with appropriate scaffolding)

These statements matter, especially for students who may not hear them elsewhere.

  1. Normalise struggle
  • ‘This is challenging, but we’ll get there, learning starts once you get stuck’
  • ‘This is the part where it gets tricky’
  • ‘If you’re finding this hard, you’re in the right place’

This reduces anxiety and increases participation.

  1. Use inclusive questioning
  • Give thinking time before taking answers
  • Invite multiple approaches
  • Build on responses rather than evaluating them immediately, if a learner gives a partial or incorrect answer, build on it, don’t dismiss it!

‘I can see why you might think that, that’s a really astute observation, however I was thinking more of this…can someone build on this?’

  1. Be consistent with expectations
  • Avoid lowering the bar for some learners
  • Instead, increase the scaffolding and support

Why this matters for belonging

Belonging is not built through single moments, it’s built through patterns.

And language is one of the most consistent patterns students experience.

Over time, it tells them:

  • You are capable
  • Your ideas matter
  • You are part of this learning

or you can signal the opposite.

The power of language is that it operates in real time. Every lesson, every interaction, every response is an opportunity to reinforce inclusion.

What you can do tomorrow

If you’re looking for a simple starting point:

  • Choose one class and consciously adjust how you respond to incorrect answers
  • Add one phrase that signals belief (‘Let’s work through this together’)
  • Track who you call on, and aim for greater balance
  • Try to build in some tasks that don’t have a definite answer. I like to use 4 seemingly random pictures and ask,  ‘Which one is the odd one out and why’? so that everyone has a chance to explain their thinking and get praised for their work! (There is no correct answer, only answers that are not thought of effectively, everyone has the same starting point) This builds confidence over time.

 

Small, intentional changes in language can have a disproportionate impact.

Final thought

If mirrors and windows help students to see,
and literacy helps them to participate,

then language is what tells them:

‘You belong here and you are valued!’

And often, it does so in ways we don’t even realise until we choose to notice.

Further reading

Achor, S. (2010) The happiness advantage: the seven principles of positive psychology that fuel success and performance at work. New York: Broadway Books. 

Erikson Institute (2019) Inclusive language is a classroom superpower, Erikson Institute Blog, 2 October. Available at: https://www.erikson.edu/blog/inclusive-language-is-a-classroom-superpower/ 

Kratz, J. (2024) ‘6 research-backed inclusive language dos and don’ts’, Forbes, 4 February. Available at: https://www.forbes.com/sites/juliekratz/2024/02/04/6-research-backed-inclusive-language-dos-and-donts/ 

Roberts, N. (2021) ‘Why we need to ditch deficit labels in SEND language’, TES Magazine, 22 June. Available at: https://www.tes.com/magazine/analysis/general/why-we-need-ditch-deficit-labels-send-language 

University College London (UCL) (2023) Using inclusive language in education. Available at: https://www.ucl.ac.uk/teaching-learning/publications/2023/jul/using-inclusive-language-education 

Worth-it (2021) How to build positive relationships in school, Worth-it Blog, 17 May. Available at: https://www.worthit.org.uk/blog/positive-relationships-school


Supporting Neurodivergent Colleagues in Schools

Laura Douglas portrait

Written by Laura Douglas

Laura is a Freelance 1:1 Study Skills Tutor and Specialist Mentor, working both locally and nationally to support neurodivergent students in receipt of Disabled Student Allowance (DSA) in higher education. Through her Education Consultancy, she supports curriculum development and neuro-inclusive practices, in both school and ITT settings. She is passionate about developing neuro-inclusive practice and in October 2026, she will begin the PhD (Prof) at The University of Lincoln, research focussing on the support given to neurodivergent teachers if this is linked to teacher retention.

Is there a relationship between the number of teachers who leave the profession and neurodivergence? How well supported are neurodivergent colleagues in school? How do we know?

These questions are of interest to me due to my experience of working in initial teacher training (ITT), supporting Early Career Teachers (ECTs), and when working with experienced class teachers and leaders in school. I have found that neurodivergent colleagues, whether formally diagnosed or self-diagnosed, face a range of barriers which impact greatly on their confidence, self-esteem and classroom or leadership practice. I have had many conversations with colleagues about the barriers they face, including a current lack of support and understanding in neuro-inclusive practice. I begin my PhD (Prof) at the University of Lincoln in October 2026 and am looking forward to undertaking research in this important area.  

Disabled Student Allowance (DSA)

Since October 2025, I have worked part-time as a freelance 1:1 Study Skills Tutor and Specialist Mentor, supporting neurodivergent students in HEI in receipt of Disabled Student Allowance (DSA). I have supported students during the 2025-6 academic year on ITT programmes and have seen first-hand the difference such mentoring has made to these individuals. In my research I aim to raise the profile of specialist mentoring which is fully funded through DSA, which is available for, but not limited to, undergraduate, postgraduate, ITT and PGCE courses. 

Workplace Support

Access to Work is a grant that funds practical support in the workplace for people with a disability or health condition; this grant seems very little known in the education sector. In order to be eligible for an Access to Work grant, there is no requirement to have a formal diagnosis with a condition to apply, with individuals having a disability, illness or health condition that means you need support to do your job. According to GOV.UK (2012), this includes, for example:

  • a physical disability, for example if you’re hard of hearing or use a wheelchair
  • a learning disability or related condition, for example if you have Down’s syndrome
  • a developmental condition, like autism spectrum disorder
  • having ADHD or dyslexia
  • an illness such as diabetes or epilepsy
  • a temporary condition, like a broken leg
  • a mental health condition, for example anxiety or depression

Upon finding the grant and reflecting on the enormous number of colleagues in school that this could help, I contacted highly regarded and experienced educators via LinkedIn, including keynote speakers of neurodiversity and an Education Policy Government Advisor – none of these individuals had heard of the grant. This raised many questions, which again has supported my decision to undertake vital research. 

Teacher Retention

According to the Department for Education (2024) and recent workforce analyses by City and Guilds (2023 and 2024) approximately 200,000 to 215,000 full-time equivalent (FTE) teachers left the state-funded sector in total over the last five years.

Teachers Leaving the Profession in England

Academic Year FTE Leavers (Approx.) % of Workforce
2023/24 40,813 9.0%
2022/23 43,500 9.5%
2021/22 43,900 9.3%
2020/21 36,000 8.1% (Pandemic low)
2019/20 33,000 7.4% (Initial lockdown period)
Total (Est.) ~197,213 —

Over 90% of leavers in recent years have cited “non-retirement” reasons for leaving teaching. The most common factors reported in DfE surveys include high workload (84%) and stress/wellbeing (75%) (Maisuria, A., Roberts, N., Long, R. and Danechi, S: 2023). 

Approximately 31% to 33% of teachers leave the state-funded sector within five years of qualifying, with an average size of recent qualifying cohorts (which typically range from 23,000 to 28,000 new entrants per year) with roughly 8000 to 9000 teachers from each annual cohort leaving before they reach their sixth year in the classroom. According the most recent studies, this has a cumulative impact, with 40,000 to 45,000 ECTs leaving teaching in the first five years:

Years After Qualifying Retention Rate Estimated % Leaving in that Period
1 Year ~89.7% ~10% leave immediately
3 Years ~76% – 80% An additional 10-14% leave
5 Years ~67% – 69% Another 7-10% leave

I aim for my research to support an update in national policy to develop clear, systematic training across the education sectors in accessibility for neurodivergent teachers. I aim to develop knowledge and understanding for leaders in schools to understand the difference between reasonable adjustments and adaptations in the workplace, in addition to understanding the support available to neurodivergent teachers. This will, in turn, support teacher retention and support the inclusivity and representation of neurodivergence across the sector.   

Bibliography

City & Guilds (2023) Neurodiversity Index Report 2023. [online] Available at: https://77f20764.flowpaper.com/CityandGuildsNeurodiversityIndexReport2023/#page=1 [Accessed 20 June 2026].

City & Guilds (2024). City & Guilds Neurodiversity Index Report 2024. [online] Available at: https://77f20764.flowpaper.com/CityandGuildsNeurodiversityIndexReport2024/#page=1 [Accessed 20 June 2026].

Department for Education (2024). School Workforce in England: report. [online] Available at: https://explore-education-statistics.service.gov.uk/find-statistics/school-workforce-in-england/2024 [Accessed 22 June 2026].

GOV.UK (2012). Get Support in Work If You Have a Disability or Health Condition (Access to Work). [online] GOV.UK. Available at: https://www.gov.uk/access-to-work [Accessed 23 June 2026].

Maisuria, A., Roberts, N., Long, R. and Danechi, S. (2023). Teacher recruitment and retention in England. commonslibrary.parliament.uk. [online] Available at: https://commonslibrary.parliament.uk/research-briefings/cbp-7222/ [Accessed 21 June 2026]


AI in Education: Promise, Peril, and the Diversity Question We Cannot Afford to Ignore

Betty Johnson portrait

Written by Betty Johnson

Betty Johnson is Director of Rinnovate Recruitment & Consultancy and founder of B3Inspire, a women's empowerment coaching brand. She is a School Improvement Partner, AI in Education advocate, and contributor to an upcoming Routledge publication exploring AI and primary school leadership.

Artificial intelligence is reshaping classrooms at speed. But if we are not careful, we risk automating the very inequalities we have spent decades trying to dismantle.

There is a moment I return to often. I was sitting with a group of teachers in South London, brilliant and committed educators, watching them use an AI writing assistant for the first time. The excitement was palpable. Then one teacher paused and asked quietly: “But does it know our children?”

That question has stayed with me. Because behind it lies the central challenge of our time in education: how do we harness the extraordinary power of artificial intelligence while ensuring it serves every child? Not just the ones whose experiences, languages and cultures it was trained on.

The promise is real

Let us start with what AI can genuinely do. Adaptive learning platforms can tailor content, pacing and assessment to individual learners in ways that even the most devoted teacher simply cannot replicate in real time when managing a class of thirty. Intelligent tutoring systems can offer immediate, personalised feedback. For students with SEND, for English as an Additional Language learners, and for children in under-resourced schools, this is not a trivial benefit. It is potentially transformative.

Research published in AI and Ethics (Fitas et al., 2025) confirms that AI can meaningfully support special needs provision and address language barriers, provided it is deployed thoughtfully and with equity at the centre of design.

The peril we are not talking about loudly enough

Here is the uncomfortable truth. AI systems learn from data. And the data that exists in the world reflects the world as it has been, not as it should be. When a model is trained predominantly on content that centres Western, English-speaking, middle-class experience, it does not arrive at the classroom as a neutral tool. It arrives carrying biases.

Research published in the International Journal of Artificial Intelligence in Education (Baker & Hawn, 2022) found that algorithmic bias in educational AI can produce systematically unfair outcomes across assessment and instruction, disproportionately affecting the very students who most need support. A 2025 review in Frontiers in Education confirmed that unchecked AI models can continue to amplify underlying social and cultural biases, impacting equity and fairness in both assessment and instruction.

“The environment the machine operates in is social in nature. It functions within the socio-technical system that encompasses the cultural values and beliefs of the people using it.”

Put simply: AI is not neutral. It is a mirror. And if we have not yet built a system that reflects the full richness of our children’s identities, we should not be surprised when the mirror distorts.

The digital divide: a growing fault line

There is a second, more immediate danger. Access to AI tools is not equally distributed. Schools in disadvantaged communities face significant challenges in investing in technology and establishing fair access policies. A 2025 study in Frontiers in Education warned explicitly that equitable access to AI tools is crucial to prevent educational inequalities from widening further.

Attainment outcomes continue to vary significantly between ethnic groups in England, with some communities continuing to experience substantial educational disadvantage despite decades of policy attention and intervention. Education Policy Institute data indicates that Gypsy, Roma and Traveller pupils experience some of the largest attainment gaps in England, equivalent to approximately 30 months of learning behind their peers by the end of secondary school. Meanwhile, Universities UK continues to report degree awarding gaps between White students and several minority ethnic groups across higher education.

If AI becomes the new frontier of educational provision and some children cannot access it, or access a version of it that does not truly see them, we will not close those gaps. We will cement them.

What can we actually do? Seven practical steps

  1. Ask the equity question first.

Before deploying any AI tool in your school, ask who it was trained on. Ask who it serves well and who it might underserve. Demand transparency from providers about their training data and bias testing. This is not a technical question. It is a values question.

  1. Use AI to reduce teacher workload, not to replace teacher relationship.

The most powerful protective factor for disadvantaged students is a trusted adult who knows them. Use AI to free up that time, for planning, marking and administration, so teachers can invest more of themselves in the human connections that matter most.

  1. Curate and contextualise AI outputs.

Do not present AI-generated content as given. Teach children and staff to interrogate it. Whose perspective is missing? What has been assumed? This is media literacy for the AI age and it is a diversity lesson in itself.

  1. Pair AI with inclusive curriculum design.

AI is a tool, not a curriculum. Ensure that what children are doing with AI reflects a genuinely diverse and representative body of knowledge, including authors, histories and contributions from across the global majority.

  1. Invest in staff training with diversity at the centre.

AI professional development must include bias recognition and culturally responsive pedagogy, not just technical skills. Teachers need to understand not only how to use these tools but when to challenge them.

  1. Amplify student voice in AI decisions.

Which students are at the table when your school decides how to use AI? If the answer is mainly those who already have power, change the table. Invite your most marginalised students into the conversation. They will see what others miss.

  1. Advocate beyond your school.

The decisions that shape AI in education are being made at government, policy and corporate levels. Join or create the conversations that push for representative datasets, diverse AI development teams and equity-first regulation. Your voice belongs in those rooms.

A word to women leaders in education

I want to speak directly to the women reading this, particularly those who, like me, came into this profession from communities that have historically been spoken about in education rather than listened to within it.

We are not incidental to this conversation. We are central to it. The research is clear that cultural and social context shapes how AI interacts with learners. We carry that contextual knowledge. We have spent careers navigating systems that were not built with us in mind and we have built extraordinary things within them regardless.

The question is not whether AI will change education. It already is. The question is who gets to shape it. The answer should include every teacher in every underfunded classroom, every headteacher in a school where the children look like the world, and every leader who has ever been the first, the only, or the one they did not expect.

“We do not get a fairer future by accident. We build it, deliberately, strategically and together.”

The next time someone asks whether AI is good or bad for education, resist the binary. The better question is simply this: good or bad for whom? Ask that question consistently and loudly, at every level, and AI in education may yet become the equaliser it promises to be.

 

References

Baker, R.S. & Hawn, A. (2022). Algorithmic bias in education. International Journal of Artificial Intelligence in Education, 32(4), 1052-1092.

Fitas, R. (2025). Inclusive education with AI: supporting special needs and tackling language barriers. AI and Ethics, 8(2), 115-129.

Education Policy Institute (2024). Annual Report: Ethnicity Gaps.

Universities UK (2019). Black, Asian and Minority Ethnic Student Attainment at UK Universities: Closing the Gap.

Frontiers in Education (2024). Promoting equity and addressing concerns in teaching and learning with artificial intelligence.


Embedding Inclusive Allyship into Critical Friendship

Sarah Vogel portrait

Written by Sarah Vogel

Sarah has been working in development and training since 1989. As a facilitator and coach she has enjoyed successful relationships with clients across a wide variety of sectors. Sarah is currently a trustee at Collaborative Education Trust in Solihull and chairs their People and Culture committee. She has also volunteered at Anawim: Birmingham’s Centre for Women, for 8 years delivering a Confidence Course for vulnerable women.

The role of a critical friend is central to effective governance. Whether serving as a trustee, governor, or board member, we are expected to provide both support and challenge. We build trust and psychological safety while also asking the difficult questions that improve outcomes and strengthen accountability.

But what happens when we combine critical friendship with inclusive allyship?

The result is a more powerful form of governance – one that not only seeks improvement but actively works to ensure that no individual or group is overlooked.

What Is Inclusive Allyship?

Inclusive allyship is the deliberate practice of using your influence to create more equitable outcomes. It requires us to examine our own assumptions, listen to voices that are often underrepresented, and challenge behaviours or systems that may disadvantage others.

Allyship is not about having all the answers. It is about being willing to learn, reflect, and act.

This can involve:

  • Recognising our own biases and assumptions.
  • Being mindful of language and identity.
  • Educating ourselves and staying informed.
  • Building relationships with people whose experiences differ from our own.
  • Amplifying marginalised voices.
  • Challenging inequitable behaviour when we see it.
  • Remaining open to feedback, even when it feels uncomfortable.

Inclusive allyship requires courage, curiosity, and a willingness to move beyond our comfort zones.

Why Allyship Matters in Governance

In governance, allyship means intentionally using positional power to ensure that decisions consider a wider range of perspectives and experiences.

Too often, boards focus on overall outcomes without exploring whether those outcomes are experienced equally by different groups. Strong headline results can conceal significant disparities.

Inclusive governance requires us to look deeper.

This means asking questions about:

  • Attendance patterns
  • Exclusion rates
  • SEND outcomes
  • Staff progression
  • Recruitment practices
  • Complaints and concerns

It also means paying attention to boardroom dynamics. Who is contributing to discussions? Whose perspectives are missing? Are assumptions being challenged, or simply accepted?

Inclusive allyship is not separate from good governance- – it strengthens it.

Developing a Curiosity About Disparity

One of the most valuable habits governors and trustees can develop is what I call a disciplined curiosity about disparity.

When we identify differences in outcomes between groups, it is tempting to ask:

“Why are results lower for this group?”

However, that question can unintentionally place responsibility on those experiencing disadvantage.

A more effective approach is to focus on the system itself:

  • What might be happening within the system that is producing this gap?
  • What evidence do we have?
  • Have we heard directly from those affected?
  • What perspectives might be missing from our analysis?

These questions move the conversation away from blame and towards understanding.

Three Practical Skills for Inclusive Allyship

  1. Ask Equity-Focused Questions

When reviewing data, resist the urge to focus solely on overall performance.

Strong results can still mask inequities for specific groups. Looking beneath averages and examining disaggregated data can reveal patterns that would otherwise remain invisible.

The role of a critical friend is not simply to accept the data presented but to explore what it may be hiding.

  1. Interrupt Bias Using Influence

Bias often appears subtly in discussions and decision-making. As governors and trustees, we have an opportunity to challenge assumptions constructively.

A simple framework can help:

Notice – Identify what you are observing.

“I notice we are talking a lot about behaviour but not about support.”

Name – Gently surface a potential assumption.

“I wonder whether assumptions about certain groups are influencing our discussion.”

Nudge – Move the conversation towards evidence and reflection.

“Could we look at the disaggregated data before reaching a conclusion?”

Small interventions can have a significant impact on the quality of decision-making.

  1. Use Better Critical Friend Questions

Inclusive governance benefits from asking questions through different lenses.

Equity Lens

  • Who benefits most from this decision?
  • Who benefits least?
  • Who may be disadvantaged?

Impact Lens

  • How will we know this works for everyone?
  • What would success look like for those most affected?

Curiosity Lens

  • What assumptions are we making?
  • What evidence supports our view?
  • What perspectives are missing?

These questions help boards make more informed and inclusive decisions.

A Governance Responsibility

Inclusive allyship is not about political correctness or compliance. It is about precision.

It is about recognising that averages can conceal inequity. It is about identifying patterns before they become complaints, inspections, or crises. Most importantly, it is about ensuring that the interests of all pupils, staff, and stakeholders are visible within governance discussions.

Strong boards do not wait for problems to emerge. They actively seek evidence, challenge constructively, and make inclusion measurable.

As trustees and governors, we hold influence. Inclusive allyship simply means using that influence deliberately -ensuring that no voice is overlooked and no group becomes invisible in our oversight.

When allyship is embedded into critical friendship, governance becomes more insightful, more effective, and ultimately more equitable.


The LGBT Educators Report 2025

Ashley Robyn Harker portrait

Written by Ashley Robyn Harker

Ashley Harker is a North London based Trans humanities teacher. She is a trustee of the national Woodcraft Folk and Vice-Chair of Epping Forest District Museum.

The LGBT+ Educators report highlights the prevalence of othering and discriminatory treatment of LGBT+ and particularly trans teachers working in England and Wales’s education sector.

From a survey of over 50 LGBT+ educators in the National Education Union (NEU) 78% had seriously considered leaving the teaching profession as well as 60% believing queerphobia to be on the rise in their schools and half believing that it was treated as a lesser form of discrimination by their school leadership.

Major issues found are a lack of support, trust or respect for LGBT+ educators’ identity, experiences or contributions in schools as well as repeated cases of targeting and poor treatment of LGBT+ individuals.

In terms of recruitment and retention:

  • 85% of cis LGBT+ educators reported they felt they faced greater difficulties in getting a job compared with straight cis teachers.
  • 40% of LGBT+ educators believed that school employers negatively considered LGBT+ candidates. 
  • A third of LGBT+ (40% of trans) educators had the role they applied for changed after it was offered (most usually going from a permanent role to temporary). 
  • Trans and Black educators on average had to interview for nearly 3 times as many roles compared with white and cis LGBT+ educators and Trans Women often have worked in more than 3 times as many schools as cis LGBT+ educators.
  • 57% of binary trans educators had started their current role in the past 12 months and 80% of LGBT+ educators leaving or potentially leaving their school at the end of the academic year were trans (with 66% not securing a role).

In terms of treatment in schools:

  • 45% of LGBT+ educators believed they were treated differently in the workplace, with 1/3 stating they were treated differently by colleagues including being told not to come out or hide their identity by SLT.
  • 90% of LGBT+ educators had heard homophobic and transphobic language used in schools. Educators were more likely to hear and be subjected to Transphobic language than Homophobic language from colleagues.
  • Only 47% of LGBT+ educators had received any form of training on LGBT+ topics in an educational setting, with only a third who had requested such training for their school having it delivered.
  • Only 33% of trans educators stated they were able to use the toilets and changing facilities that aligned with their gender. 78% of trans educators had had to argue for access to school toilets.
  • 93% of LGBT+ believed that how their schools acknowledged LGBT+ topics had little to no impact and 50% of educators who had attempted to include LGBT+ topics in their curriculum had been ignored or told not to.
  • 18% of LGBT+ educators had not been included in school trips or residentials because of or in part because of their LGBT+ identity.

The report also highlights the impact recent and historic decisions against LGBT+ equality have had on the education sector:

  • 50% of LGBT+ educators believed that their school was still impacted by Section 28 and 100% believed something similar could be put in place in the near future.
  • 88% of LGBT+ (including all trans) educators reported that their mental health had deteriorated following the For Women Scotland Supreme Court ruling with 44% stating that this had impacted their ability to work. 50% reported the decision had had a negative impact on pupils. 
  • Only 25% had been approached or supported by colleagues following these decisions. A quarter stated that their schools had already made changes such as removing gender neutral toilets, amending pupil’s school data or denying trans staff access to toilets following the Supreme Court ruling.

The survey for the LGBT+ Educators report was carried out between May and August 2025.

The research was led by Ashley Harker and covered LGBT+ Educators experiences of recruitment, perception, policy, curriculum, bullying, training and opportunities in education.


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