Maslow’s Hierarchy Was Never Just a Pyramid

Hannah Wilson portrait

Written by Hannah Wilson

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

Every educator has seen it. The pyramid – at the bottom sit physiological needs: food, water, shelter, sleep. Above that come safety, belonging, esteem, and finally – at the peak – self-actualisation.

For decades, Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs has shaped educational thinking. It appears in teacher training, wellbeing frameworks, behaviour support models, and school leadership presentations around the world. The message is straightforward: children cannot learn effectively if their basic needs are unmet.

And that insight matters;

  • Hungry children struggle to concentrate,
  • Unsafe children struggle to trust,
  • Disconnected children struggle to engage.

But there is a part of the story many educators have never been told.

Maslow’s ideas were influenced by time spent with the Blackfoot Confederacy in 1938, where he observed a society deeply grounded in community, belonging, collective responsibility, and cultural continuity. In later years, scholars and Indigenous educators have pointed to the similarities between Maslow’s developing ideas and Blackfoot understandings of human wellbeing.

What is especially interesting is that Maslow himself never actually drew the famous pyramid we all recognise today. The pyramid – with its upward climb toward individual success – became a Western interpretation of his theory. And perhaps in that interpretation, something important was lost because many Indigenous worldviews do not see human flourishing as an individual journey upward. They see it as relational.

The Problem With the Pyramid

The modern version of Maslow’s hierarchy is often presented as a ladder:

  • First survival…
  • Then safety…
  • Then belonging…
  • Then achievement.

Eventually, if all goes well, a person reaches self-actualisation – becoming the fullest version of themselves. But schools have absorbed this framework in ways that often reinforce individualism rather than connection.

Once students’ basic needs are acknowledged, education systems quickly shift focus toward:

  • academic performance,
  • achievement,
  • productivity,
  • competition,
  • outcomes.

The underlying message becomes: Now that your needs are met, it is time to succeed.

Yet human wellbeing is not linear:

  • Children can experience creativity while carrying trauma,
  • Students can achieve highly while feeling lonely,
  • Young people can comply academically while feeling culturally unseen.

Many First Nations perspectives understand wellbeing not as a hierarchy, but as an interconnected system of relationships – between self, community, identity, spirit, land, and purpose. Belonging is not a stage to move through. It is foundational.

What Indigenous Wisdom Offers Education

One of the most powerful distinctions in Indigenous understandings of wellbeing is the shift from individual fulfilment to collective flourishing.

In many Western systems, the highest goal is personal achievement:

  • reaching your potential,
  • standing out,
  • becoming successful.

But Indigenous perspectives often place greater emphasis on:

  • contribution,
  • responsibility,
  • kinship,
  • cultural continuity,
  • community wellbeing.

The question changes from: “How do I become my best self?”

To: “How do I strengthen the wellbeing of the community around me?”

That difference has profound implications for schools because schools frequently reward independence while undervaluing interconnectedness.

We celebrate high achievers, but often overlook:

  • kindness,
  • emotional safety,
  • cultural identity,
  • collaboration,
  • service,
  • belonging.

And yet these are the very things that allow human beings to flourish.

What Would Schools Look Like If We Truly Understood This?

If schools genuinely embraced a more holistic understanding of human needs, education might begin to look very different.

We might prioritise:

  • relationships before results,
  • connection before compliance,
  • identity before standardisation,
  • wellbeing before performance.

Students would not simply be prepared for exams or careers – they would be prepared for life in community.

Teachers would spend less time asking: “How do we improve outcomes?”

And more time asking: “Do our students feel seen, safe, valued, and connected?”

Because children learn best when they experience belonging. 

Not performative belonging…Not tokenistic inclusion…Real belonging.

The kind that says: “You matter here.”

Beyond Achievement

Many schools today are facing rising levels of anxiety, disengagement, loneliness, and behavioural complexity among young people.

We often respond with interventions, data tracking, wellbeing programs, and behaviour systems, but perhaps part of the deeper issue is that modern education has become disconnected from fundamental human needs.

Not just physical needs – but emotional, relational, cultural, and spiritual ones too. The Indigenous perspectives that influenced Maslow remind us that wellbeing cannot be separated from connection.

A child’s sense of identity matters…Community matters…Purpose matters…Relationship matters…And perhaps the greatest misunderstanding of the pyramid is that human flourishing was never meant to be a solo climb to the top.

A Different Vision for Education

What if success in schools was measured not only by grades, but by:

  • empathy,
  • contribution,
  • resilience,
  • belonging,
  • cultural strength,
  • and the ability to care for others?

What if education was not simply about producing successful individuals, but nurturing connected human beings?

Long before modern psychology attempted to define human motivation, First Nations peoples already understood something essential: people thrive through relationships and belonging to a community.

Perhaps schools have been looking at the pyramid for so long that we forgot to look around us. So perhaps the future of education depends not on climbing higher, but on reconnecting more deeply – to ourselves, to each other, and to community.


Empowering Young People to Change the World

Nicola Wetherall portrait

Written by Nicola Wetherall

Nicola is an RE teacher by training, but a specialist and Lead Practitioner for Holocaust, genocide and human rights education at Royal Wootton Bassett Academy, she curates the Empowering Young People to Change the World teacher conference series. She combines her part time role at RWBA with her Associate Professor (Teaching) role at the UCL Centre for Holocaust Education, specialising in curriculum, pedagogy and school development by supporting the Quality Mark process and Beacon School alumni engagement. Nicola founded the Holocaust, their family, me and us schools project.

This year’s DEIB Showcase for #EYP2CtW26 session felt like an expansion – a widening of what we pay attention to in schools, and a reminder that belonging is not an optional extra but a foundation. 

We began with Hannah Wilson, who was joined by, and introduced us to, colleagues from the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators) network, who each brought a richness of experience, context and lived insight that was both energising and deeply grounding. But before I turn to each contribution in turn, I want to say a special thankyou to Hannah, an ally and leader who has supported #EYP2CtW26 conference for many years now, and once again curated a session for us today that was compelling, generous and full of practical wisdom.

So first we welcomed Yassar Hussain – from the UAE – who talked us through GEMS Metropole’s DEIB journey, referring to a range of scholarship that had informed that process, the importance of intentionality, student voice and agency. Yassar’s section was a powerful reminder that belonging doesn’t happen by accident, it’s built through deliberate choices around staff awareness, curriculum representation and student voice. His ‘journey’ within this work, reminded me how small, consistent actions across a year can shift culture, confidence and connection. I think that Yassar’s story offered a practical challenge for all of us: What would it look like to map our own DEIB journey across a year (staff learning, curriculum audits, student voice, community engagement) and treat it as a cycle of listening, acting and refining? For me, his contribution offered #EYP2CtW26 delegates (and me) us a template for intentional, sustainable progress, a next step be it short, medium or long term.

Next, it was a privilege to invite Monia Sahar Zahid and Claire Shooter – from HABS Elstree – who rather beautifully reminded us that belonging isn’t something you switch on in a crisis, it’s the product of the culture you’ve built long before tensions surface. Their emphasis on intellectual humility, visible inclusion and shared experiences offered a powerful blueprint for how schools can create the conditions for safety, trust and connection, even when global events hit the school gates, with a focus on the pastoral and safeguarding rather than the politics or teaching. I was struck by their noticing – their check-ins with staff and students, the human connections and deep rooted respect that revealed. I know several of the anecdotes shared, resonated powerfully with the 460+ educators accessing the session live – and the sense of thanks and gratitude for highlighting those moments was palpable in the chat forum spaces. My takeaway was need to reflect on our own readiness: Do we have the frameworks, shared language and staff confidence to hold difficult conversations before they arrive at our door? The SAFE framework they shared with us and emphasis on defensible decision‑making offer practical starting points for schools wanting to strengthen their approach to belonging, identity and conflict‑sensitive practice. So this was great to share.

Last but not least we were pleased to host Azuraye Williams from the Transform Trust, her contribution brought us back to something deceptively simple but deeply important: belonging starts with people, not paperwork. Her trust‑wide work showed how culture, connection and relationships must come before policies if we want DEIB to be lived rather than laminated, a reminder that systems only shift when humans do. Colleagues were taken with the meaningful and purposeful work undertaken to engage governors, but for me Azuraye left us a practical challenge: How well do we really know the belonging story of our own school? Her trust‑wide approach (surveying every child, engaging DEIB leads, and focusing on each school’s unique context) offered a clear starting point for any setting wanting to move from intention to impact.

It was that intentionality across the session was noticeable and built upon Hannah’s introductory remarks and concluding framing of belonging as a human need. Each contribution built on the last: from GEMS Metropole’s DEEI journey, to navigating global conflict at HABS Elstree, to trust‑wide belonging work at Transform Trust, and throughout, the examples shared (curriculum audits, microaggressions training, belonging surveys, pupil‑led research, ‘people before policies’) reminding us that belonging is not a slogan. It is a practice. A culture. A way of showing up for one another in schools.

In a climate where DEIB work is sometimes misrepresented or politicised, today was a powerful reminder that this work is not about ideology. It is rights‑respecting, dignity‑affirming, and safeguarding‑aligned. It is about ensuring that every child (and every adult) feels safe, seen, valued and able to bring their whole self into a school community. Nothing more complicated, nothing more controversial than that – and yet, the work can feel lonely, induce anxiety and expose vulnerability. I am deeply grateful to Hannah, Yassar, Claire, Monia and Azuraye, for their time, expertise and generosity of sharing, and this thread and spirit continues across the rest of the week.

If you missed this year’s DEIB Showcase for #EYP2CtW26 you can catch up here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL5Qv_qeF-NpWPGep25cYsrp0zuYDEPH9c  

I’m reminded again that when educators gather with honesty, courage and care, we don’t just learn, we widen our circle of belonging, and in doing so, we create the conditions for empowered young people to do the same.


Breaking Barriers Together: How Teachers Can Use New FA & Barclays Resources to Support Girls’ Confidence and Inclusion in Sport

Sue Day portrait

Written by Sue Day

Sue Day MBE, Director of Women’s Football, the FA.

Despite huge progress in women and girls’ football over the past few years, too many girls still face invisible, but very real, barriers to taking part. Confidence, body image, misogyny, exclusion by boys, and gender stereotypes continue to shape girls’ experiences long before they reach the pitch.

That’s why The FA and Barclays, have launched Made for This Game: Breaking Barriers – a new suite of free, curriculum-linked educational resources designed specifically for primary and secondary schools. The aim is simple but urgent: to help teachers and pupils unpack the societal pressures that hold girls back, and to build environments where every young person feels they belong.

Why this matters for educators

Research continues to paint a stark picture:

  • Girls are 3.4 times more likely than boys to lack confidence in physical activity.
  • They are more than twice as likely to feel less resilient.
  • 71% of primary teachers say girls are held back by feeling excluded by boys.
  • By secondary school, body confidence and self-consciousness become the biggest barriers.

What the new resources offer

The Breaking Barriers resources are designed not only to empower girls, but to engage all pupils in understanding bias, stereotypes and inclusion.

  • Primary resources (Ages 5-11): Focused on misogyny, inclusion and challenging gender stereotypes. 
  • Secondary resources (Ages 11-16): Addressing more complex barriers, specifically body confidence and mental wellbeing, which are primary drivers for girls dropping out of sport during teenage years.

Central to the content are videos featuring CBBC and Strictly star Molly Rainford, who joins pupils in honest, age-appropriate conversations.

Support for teachers, too

A dedicated visual podcast for teachers also helps guide these conversations. Hosted by comedian and women’s football fan Maisie Adam, the episode brings together Lioness legend Rachel Brown-Finnis and Educating Yorkshire’s Matthew Burton to explore the wider societal challenges young people face and how teachers and adults can actively help by addressing these barriers to participation head on.

How you can get involved

These resources are free, ready to use, and flexible enough to fit into PSHE, assemblies, tutor time or PE.

Explore & download here: https://bit.ly/3NNvhIs 


Mixed Messages: The High Stakes of Social Sorting

Domini Choudhury portrait

Written by Domini Choudhury

Domini Choudhury is an associate trainer, an award-winning EDI consultant, a former Deputy and Acting Headteacher for 17 years, a local authority consultant and an Evidence Advocate for the Research Schools Network, part of the Education Endowment Foundation (EEF).

According to official statistics, the mixed-heritage population is now the UK’s fastest-growing demographic. The 2021 Census revealed that 1.7 million people across England and Wales identify as mixed-race, a tripling since 2001 (King’s College London, 2025). Yet, in the eyes of a hospital computer or a school database, we are often reduced to a glitch. When our social sorting systems rely on a “White-plus” baseline, the messages aren’t just mixed; they’re dangerous.

The Challenge of the Checkbox

Supporting mixed-heritage children and young people in schools comes with a minefield of challenges. We are navigating outdated terminology, the complexities of identity development during adolescence, and the fluctuating sense of belonging within different communities. These journeys are often further complicated by orientalism, colourism, or a perceived “proximity to whiteness” which is not always a universal advantage.

To address this, we must first dismantle the social construct of “mixed-ness.” Until 2001, “mixed” categories didn’t even exist on the UK Census, making long-term data comparison nearly impossible. Even now, the categories remain stiflingly limited. Society’s default stereotype of a mixed person is someone racialised as White and either Black or Brown. This is codified in official data: almost every category begins with “White and…”, implying that Whiteness is the mandatory baseline of our society. If you don’t fit that specific mold, you are relegated to the generic: “Any other Mixed or multiple ethnic background.”

When Data Becomes a Danger

I face this erasure personally. As someone of both Bangladeshi and Chinese heritage, I am frequently forced to choose: either to select one, or select “Mixed Other.” To pick one is to deny half of my identity; to pick “Other” is to make my heritage invisible.

Even when I try to claim both, the technology fails me. Alphabetised computer systems often default my ethnicity to “Bangladeshi,” leaving my Chinese heritage on the cutting floor. In the eyes of the algorithm, half of my identity is a glitch.

This isn’t just a matter of hurt feelings; it has life-and-death implications. I once faced an emergency operation while unconscious. Since my hospital record only listed me as Bangladeshi, the medical team was unaware of my Chinese ancestry, a vital piece of genetic information that carried a high risk of a specific drug intolerance.

The Educational Blind Spot

In our schools, we rely heavily on ethnicity data to drive interventions, allocate finances, and analyze outcomes. As the proportion of mixed-heritage students rises, our “boxes” are becoming increasingly obsolete.

Since both of my heritages are broadly categorised as “Asian,” the system often fails to recognise me as mixed-heritage at all. Despite the fact that Bangladeshi and Chinese cultures are poles apart, the “Asian-Asian” mix is frequently ignored by a system that only understands “mixed” if it involves a White parent. I am left feeling officially bereft of the identity I am proud to hold.

A System in Need of a Reset

The flaws go deeper than just the “mixed” label. Consider that “Bangladeshi” appears as an ethnicity category when it is, in fact, a nationality, one that has only existed since 1971. Conflating nationality with ethnicity (like using “Bangladeshi” instead of “Bengali”) is a separate systemic failure entirely, but that is a post for another day.

For now, we must recognize that our current method of categorising people is failing. We need a radical overhaul of how we see, record, and support the diverse reality of the UK today. We are more than a “White-plus” variable. It’s time the system caught up.

References:

UK Government (2021) List of ethnic groups. Available at: https://www.ethnicity-facts-figures.service.gov.uk/style-guide/ethnic-groups/ (Accessed: 21 April 2026).

Slade-Edmondson, E. (2026) ‘What does it mean to grow up mixed-race in a world that is obsessed with tidy boxes and simple definitive answers, and what does a journey towards belonging look like?’, Emma Slade-Edmondson Blog, February. Available at: https://www.thebelongingeffect.co.uk/what-does-it-mean-to-grow-up-mixed-race-in-a-world-that-is-obsessed-with-tidy-boxes-and-simple-definitive-answers-and-what-does-a-journey-towards-belonging-look-like/ (Accessed: 21 April 2026).

Mansaray, A. and Nwosu, C. (2025) Mixed-Heritage Young People’s Educational Experiences in London: An Exploratory Study. London: King’s College London. Available at: https://www.kcl.ac.uk/ecs/assets/projects/mixed-heritage-final.pdf (Accessed: 21 April 2026).

Morris, N. (2021) Mixed/Other: Explorations of Multiraciality in Modern Britain. London: Trapeze.


The Power of Your Network #ILW2026

Ben Hobbis portrait

Written by Ben Hobbis

Teacher, Middle Leader and DSL. Founder of EdConnect and StepUpEd Networks.

Last month we marked the International Leadership Week (ILW) 2026 – an annual event organised and curated by the Institute of Leadership. At Step Up, we’ve been fortunate to collaborate and work with the institute over the last two years including being nominated for an award at their 2024 leadership awards and speaking at their members reception at Warwick Castle in 2025. 

When Karen (IoL’s events manager) informed us of this year’s theme, The Power of Your Network for ILW2026, we knew we had to be involved. The IoL itself has organised a range of virtual live events along with networking breakfasts across the UK – as well as members of the institute organising their own events to coincide with the theme. 

As networking in education can be a minefield and, in most cases, the unknown, we set about bringing together some of the best-connected people in education. We brought together Yamina Bibi, Johnoi Josephs, Tim Mobbs and Hannah Wilson to have an open and honest discussion around the power of networking. We decided to spend each 10 minute section of the event on one of the sub-topics from the theme. 

We started with the topic of ‘building and sustaining powerful networks’ in which our panellists gave some great tips and tricks of how you can start from scratch. These included using tools such as social media, blogging and attending face-to-face events to connect with the people who you feel most aligned to. We also acknowledged that whilst following people you admire behind a screen is easy, the actual notion of networking can be very uncomfortable and difficult; saying yes to things is important and contributing to develop your network but also be real clear on boundaries and values. 

Our next topic was exploring connected leadership and collective wisdom by being intentional and connecting with the right people. Tim shared the importance of purpose and belonging in creating a network (both your own personal network but also a formal network); whilst Hannah shared her intention in creating a network to fall in line with relocating at various points throughout her career. 

A topic close to everyone’s hearts on the panel was the importance of diversity, inclusion and global connectivity. Yamina spoke passionately about intentionality around representation and that in 2026 not having networks and events that are diverse and represent the audience is not acceptable – something we all echoed and agreed with. The panel spoke also to the importance of challenging biases and being mindful about how we navigate these spaces. We also talked about the importance of ensuring these spaces are physically and mentally accessible for all. We also shared recommended read from this question – ‘The Art of Gathering’ by Priya Parker. I made so many notes from this question from our panel’s responses, demonstrating the passion and importance of the topic.

All the panelists have been involved in establishing networks themselves and our next question where we explored the legacy through networks saw everyone share some magical moments that had stayed with them throughout their networking journey. Before finally, thinking towards the future – what does the future of networking look like in education? In which our panel very much explored key themes of psychological safety, belonging, Johnoi’s phrase of collaboration and not competition, collective impact and having clear rules and expectations of engagement and inviting people into spaces.

A huge thank you to Yamina, Johnoi, Tim and Hannah for joining us and for their honesty and authenticity. We couldn’t have held this event without you. This blog is very much a summary of the fantastic event, you can watch the full event back on YouTube here – do watch and comment, let us know your thoughts and key takeaways. 

It was a great event, which highlighted the importance of knowing how to navigate networking within the sector. A huge thank you to IoL for bring this important issue to the forefront of our minds. For further information about networking, visit these links:


Closing the Gap by Valuing Multilingualism

Soofia Amin portrait

Written by Soofia Amin

Soofia Amin is the Multilingual Trust Lead for Tapscott Learning Trust (TTLT). She is also a Specialist Lead in Education for Multilingualism with vast experience in supporting multilingual pupils and their families. Soofia is passionate about developing excellent practice for multilingual pupils whilst promoting their first languages as a resource in both the classroom and the wider school community. She strongly advocates for a whole-school approach to multilingualism and uses her own school’s example to provide effective models of practice for others.

This post was originally published on the Research Schools Network through the work that Soofia does with East London Research School.

I recently visited a primary school where low writing outcomes for multilingual children had led leaders to search urgently for ways to “close the gap.” For many school leaders, this phrase often leads to discussions about data dashboards, targeted interventions, and heightened accountability measures.  These discussions often neglect one key factor: the children’s first languages.

Many children in this school confidently use two or three languages and travel regularly to their countries of origin. Leaders worry that this rich linguistic exposure might be contributing to weaker writing outcomes. While understandable, this view risks misidentifying the problem.

The challenge here is not multilingualism. Rather how much we, as educators, value and use the children’s linguistic proficiency to further their learning, including their writing. If we focus intentionally on using the multilingual children’s rich language skills to support learning, particularly their writing development, outcomes could look very different.

Building Strong Foundations Through Explicit Language Instruction

Language and subject learning develop together. Children do not learn content first and language later; they learn both simultaneously. Evidence from Cummins states that,

“Conceptual knowledge developed in one language helps to make input in the other language comprehensible.” (Cummins, 2000,p.39).

Therefore, embedding spoken language approaches across the curriculum can strengthen literacy and attainment when language is taught explicitly and in context. For multilingual learners, this means making the language demands of lessons visible and teachable.

In practice, this involves modelling how this language is used in speech and writing.

Classroom example: Year 5 science (States of Matter)
The educator explains evaporation using sentences such as:
“When water is heated, it evaporates.”
“As a result, the liquid changes into a gas.”

The educator unpacks key vocabulary like evaporate and evaporation and gives children sentence stems to support their explanations. Alongside the science objective, sits a clear language objective. Children now have the words and sentence structures they need to explain their thinking clearly.

Strengthening Learning Through Cultural and Linguistic Connection

Multilingual children bring a wealth of cultural and linguistic knowledge into the classroom. When educators recognise and build on this, learning becomes more meaningful and inclusive.

Schools that invest in understanding children’s linguistic backgrounds are better placed to design teaching that connects new learning to what children already know.

In practice, this means:

  • Gathering information about a child’s home language/s and experiences
  • Using this knowledge to make lessons more relevant and accessible

Classroom example: Year 5 science (States of Matter)
The Educator invites children to share where they see evaporation at home: drying clothes, steaming dumplings, or burning incense. Then explicitly links these examples back to the scientific explanation.

By connecting the abstract concept of ‘evaporation’ to something tangible like ‘incense’ or ‘steaming,’ the child is able to relate to it.

Deepening Understanding by Harnessing Home Languages

Research and classroom practice both show that strong first-language skills are crucial for developing English proficiency and achieving academic success.

“The idea that a multilingual classroom is not only beneficial to EAL students but to non-EAL students (suggests) the need for a strategic whole-school approach to language teaching and integration.” (Arnot et al., 2014,p.7)

In practice, schools should:

  • Encourage translanguaging as a learning strategy. Translanguaging enables children to first process complex cognitive tasks in their strongest language, before expressing them in English. 
  • Encourage families to use first languages to support key topics and concepts

Classroom example: Year 5 science (States of Matter)
The children use their first language to clarify why the change is happening. Once they have secured the concept, they then describe it in English.

The child is not cognitively overloaded. They use their first language to handle the heavy lifting of thinking, and only then move on to using English to demonstrate their understanding.

Final Thoughts…

Closing the gap for multilingual children requires a clear understanding of how language underpins attainment, a commitment to evidence-informed practice and a shared vision that places language at the heart of curriculum design. 

When leaders get this right, the impact is profound – not only for multilingual children, but for all learners. Prioritising language isn’t just an inclusion strategy; it’s a school improvement strategy.

References

Arnot, M., Schneider, C. and Welply, O. (2014) School approaches to the education of EAL students. Cambridge: The Bell Foundation.

Cummins, J. (2000) Language, Power and Pedagogy: Bilingual Children in the Crossfire. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters.


The Power of Storytelling for Change

Orla McKeating portrait

Written by Orla McKeating

Entrepreneur, coach and motivational speaker

In Irish tradition, “the gift of the gab” is more than being good with words. It reflects a long-held belief that speech itself is a kind of gift, one with the power to connect, heal and shape the world around us. It’s also a friendly, light-hearted way of saying someone talks a lot and tells stories. Something I’ve been told I have many times throughout my life. 

Historically, storytellers and poets held significant social power. Words had the power to heal, inspire, unite, and drive meaningful change.  Using our words was not merely a skill, but a responsibility. Culturally, this reflects the role of storytelling as social glue – a tool for connection, a means of using our voices with purpose and power. In the world we live in today, this beautiful, free and powerful tool is needed more than ever to create change.

In my years of working in inclusion, I have been using stories for social change the short-term impact has been huge. The girl in the hijab in an online story session whose face lit up when she saw someone like her in The Proudest Blue by Ibtihaj Muhammad. She lit up, bounced out of the room full of excitement and energy, and brought her mother into the room to show her. Or the deaf girl in a mainstream school who had never once spoke about her disability to her classmates and after a story in sign session, she skipped into school the following day with more books about the deaf experience, so proud of her identity. Representation matters and these tiny shifts in how we share our stories in learning spaces can literally change lives. 

Why does Storytelling Matter?

1.Storytelling Builds Connection

Stories can create an emotional bridge, it can build empathy and helps people feel. When we connect emotionally to a topic, we can become more curious, open and engaged. It opens a tool for conversations, especially difficult ones, and it can turn something abstract – like identity, justice or belonging – into something real.

2. Stories help children see themselves and others

Representation matters deeply in education. The concept of mirrors, windows and sliding doors by Dr Rudine Bishop allows children to see their lives, cultures and experiences reflected to them affirming identity and self-worth. Mirrors reflect children’s own lives and identities back to them, helping them feel seen, valued and affirmed. Windows invite children into others’ lives helping them develop empathy, challenge stereotypes and understand perspectives beyond their own. And sliding doors invite children to step into another world, to imagine themselves in different contexts, perspectives and possibilities.

3. Storytelling makes Complex Topics Accessible

Uncomfortable or difficult topics like race, immigration, disability or big emotions can be challenging to navigate. Stories can offer a gentle and powerful entry point to this. Through characters, narratives and lived experiences, children can explore these topics gently, engage in important discussions and critical thinking in an accessible and sustainable way.

4. Storytelling invites Participation not Perfection

Stories open space for conversation as opposed to ‘correct answers. They encourage reflection, questioning and conversation. Through stories we can encourage children to learn that their voices matter, they can disagree and still be friends and that learning is something we do together.

5. Stories can change lives

Every one of us has a story that they heard that changed their lives. Whether it’s a book, a film, history or a family anecdote. Stories create memorable, meaningful and long-lasting change. And we all have a story to tell. 

If stories shape how children see themselves and the world, the stories we choose, and how we hold space for them, really matter. How can we build storytelling as a tool into our learning spaces? Whose voices are centred? Whose voices are missing? What stories do we tell ourselves? And how can we use our gift of the gab to ensure that all voices are seen, heard, valued and celebrated? 

Still I Rise Stories is a space for adults, educators, teachers and any person who are using stories to open conversations about identity, belonging and justice. If this work resonates, join our community here – a space to reflect, learn and grow through story.


Navigating Inclusion as a Trainee Teacher

Catherine Wilson portrait

Written by Catherine Wilson

I have worked in the special educational needs sector since 2017 and I am currently undertaking my teacher training with Exceed and doing my PGCE with Leeds Trinity University.

While I have known I wanted to work with children and young people for a long time, it has taken me some time to find that I wanted to teach and in particular teach in an SEN setting. I initially started my work life as a Youth Worker, working evenings at my local youth club before completing my BA in Youth Work & Community Development. After completing this youth work roles were scarce after a change in government and funding cuts so I then took a role in a college supporting young people who had additional needs and found my passion for supporting children with SEN. From here I then moved to an specialist SEN school working as TA and have worked my way up to doing my initial teacher training, which is where I am today!

Navigating diversity, equity, inclusion and belonging as an ITT can feel daunting. Am I using the correct terminology? Am I creating a culture of inclusion and belonging in my classroom? Do I feel confident enough to challenge people’s views in the classroom? It can be a lot to think about and navigate on top of all the other aspects of completing teacher training. 

I have always thought of my practice as being inclusive and promoting equity and diversity  but having Exceed SCITT as my teacher training provider has really opened my eyes to how much more I could be doing and made me evaluate my own practices and thought patterns. I have been really lucky that alongside the training they have provided me with they also signed us up to attend the DEIB Conference. And what a thought provoking day it was! Hearing from such knowledgeable practitioners has really made me stop and think. 

My standout speaker of the had to be from event organiser Hannah Wilson and her session around Cultivating a Culture of Belonging. Her discussions on where we have felt like we belonged the most as we have grown up and moved into adulthood made me think about my own experiences growing up, of feeling most settled when I was with “my people” and also how it felt when I didn’t have those feelings of belonging. It made me reflect upon how I want to create that culture of belonging in my classroom and for all my pupils to feel like they belong. She also talked about Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs and for a lot of the pupils that I work with they don’t have all of their safety needs met, as a lot have health needs that they need support with, but it made me reflect on how I can help meet the Love and Belonging needs that they have. Making connections with them and their families and supporting them to feel like they matter and are seen and can be themselves, especially in a world where they are still written off as not being able to do because they have a disability. 

I was also really inspired by Bennie Kara and her session around Diversity in the curriculum and I think this is where I could really have an impact with my pupils. Her talk discussed how you can adapt the curriculum to be more diverse. I work in predominantly White British, low socioeconomic status school and I hadn’t really given much thought to the impact it would have on the pupils who are not White British and the impact it would have on them not seeing anything that represents them culturally. I use a lot of Widgit symbols on my powerpoints and resources for the pupils and always just use the default skin tone which is that of a white person, there is the option to edit this and have different skin tones so when I’m creating my resources going forward I am going to vary it. 

While Hannah and Bennie provided the ‘lightbulb moments’ for me I really appreciated what Krys Mcinnis, Jo Brassington, Lewis Wedlock and Mariam Tomusk had to say and will take points from their sessions into my own professional practice. Hearing from each of the practitioners really cemented my beliefs that diversity and inclusion are not just ‘tokenistic’ or something that are achieved and then forgotten but should be something that is a continuous development. 

References:

Exceed SCITT: https://www.exceedscitt.co.uk/ 

Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs: https://www.simplypsychology.org/maslow.html?scrlybrkr=5cc7f61c


Empathy Week 2026: My Culture, Your Culture, Our Culture

Hannah Wilson portrait

Written by Hannah Wilson

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

My Culture, Your Culture, Our Culture

Culture is more than traditions, food, language, or clothing. It is the story of who we are and where we come from. It shapes our values, our beliefs, the way we see the world, and how we connect with others. During Empathy Week, the theme “My culture, your culture, our culture” reminds us that understanding culture is not just about learning facts – it is about learning empathy.

Celebrating Your Own Culture

Celebrating your own culture is important because it helps you understand yourself. Your culture carries the experiences of your family, ancestors, and community. It gives you a sense of identity and belonging. When you recognise and value your culture, you gain confidence in who you are and where you come from.

For many people, culture is also a source of strength. Traditions, celebrations, and shared values can provide comfort during difficult times and joy during happy ones. They remind us that we are part of something bigger than ourselves. When we celebrate our culture, we honour the sacrifices, struggles, and achievements of those who came before us.

Celebrating your own culture also helps prevent it from being forgotten. In a fast-changing world, traditions and languages can easily fade away. By sharing stories, practising customs, and passing them on to younger generations, we keep culture alive. This is especially important for cultures that have been marginalised or misunderstood. Pride in one’s culture can be a powerful act of resilience.

Celebrating Other People’s Cultures

While celebrating your own culture helps you understand yourself, celebrating other people’s cultures helps you understand the world. Every culture has its own history, values, and ways of expressing meaning. When we take the time to learn about them, we broaden our perspectives.

Celebrating other cultures builds empathy. It allows us to step outside our own experiences and see life through someone else’s eyes. This understanding reduces stereotypes, fear, and prejudice. Instead of focusing on differences as barriers, we begin to see them as opportunities to learn.

Respecting and celebrating other cultures also creates more inclusive communities. When people feel that their culture is acknowledged and valued, they feel seen and accepted. This sense of belonging strengthens relationships and encourages cooperation. It reminds us that diversity is not a weakness but a strength.

Our Shared Culture

When we celebrate both our own culture and the cultures of others, we begin to create our culture – a shared space built on respect, curiosity, and understanding. This shared culture does not erase individual identities. Instead, it connects them.

“Our culture” is found in moments of listening, sharing, and standing up for one another. It is present when we celebrate cultural festivals together, learn new languages or traditions, and challenge discrimination. It is built when we choose kindness over judgement and curiosity over assumptions.

In a globalised world, our lives are increasingly connected. Schools, workplaces, and communities are made up of people from many different backgrounds. Learning to appreciate both our differences and our similarities helps us live together more peacefully and respectfully.

Why It Matters

Celebrating culture – your own and others’ – is important because it builds empathy. Empathy allows us to understand feelings, experiences, and perspectives that are different from our own. It encourages compassion and reminds us of our shared humanity.

When we value culture, we value people. And when we value people, we create a world that is more inclusive, respectful, and kind.

Empathy Week reminds us that while we may come from different cultures, we all share the same need to be understood, respected, and accepted. By celebrating my culture, your culture, and our culture, we take a step closer to a more empathetic world.

Find out more and register your school to be part of Empathy Week 2026 here.


What Are You Actually Fighting For?

Chloe Watterston portrait

Written by Chloe Watterston

Chloe is an educator, athlete, and advocate for inclusive, curiosity-driven learning, dedicated to creating spaces where every young person feels safe, valued, and empowered. Her work across mainstream and SEND education, community projects, and curriculum reform is driven by a passion for amplifying marginalised voices and breaking down barriers to learning.

Closing Reflections on Anti-Racism in Education

For three articles, we have explored the urgency of anti-racism in education: racism as a safeguarding issue, the policy–practice disconnect, and the role of belonging and empathy in curriculum reform. Each piece has shared evidence, strategies, and practical steps for schools and teachers.

But sometimes data isn’t enough. Sometimes policy isn’t enough. Sometimes what we need is language that speaks not only to the head, but to the heart.

This final post in the series is not an essay. It is a poem. A truth-telling. A mirror held up to the contradictions of nationalism and the realities of Britain’s multicultural identity. It is a reminder of why anti-racism in the curriculum matters- not as an ‘add-on’, but as the honest story of who we are.

What are you actually fighting for?

(For the ones who carry the world in their veins – and make this island beat.)

What are you actually fighting for? 

I mean- 

have you stopped to taste the air you’re breathing? 

That air laced with the spices from the corner shop down the road, 

the samosa stand next to the bus stop, 

the Portuguese bakery with custard tarts that taste like heaven on a tired Tuesday. 

You yell about purity with a mouth that still carries 

last night’s tikka masala.

And the flags-

Oh, the flags! 

You wave them like swords, 

St George’s cross stitched bold on cotton, 

blood-red lines cutting through white. 

But you forgot, didn’t you? 

That St George wasn’t from here. 

That the saint you scream under 

was born somewhere foreign, 

his story carried by traders and travellers 

long before your postcode was drawn on a map. 

Your symbol is a migrant. 

Your flag is an immigrant. 

But you raise it like a shield 

against the very soil it grew from.

 

And the Union flag- 

a stitched-together puzzle of histories, 

threads from Scotland, Ireland, England, 

woven into a single declaration: 

We are many. 

We are mixed. 

We are made from meeting points, 

from ports and ships and stories that came crashing in with the tide. 

A union. 

A blend. 

A patchwork cloak. 

You’ve wrapped it tight, 

but you’re choking on the irony.

 

What are you actually fighting for? 

Because from here, it looks like fear 

dressed up in patriotism, 

looks like rage you can’t name, 

painted on banners you don’t understand. 

Your voice is loud, 

but your knowledge is quiet. 

History echoes, 

and you drown it out with chants 

that sound more like hollow drums than truth.

 

Meanwhile- 

your lunch is an onion bhaji, 

grease soaking through the paper bag, 

and when you stumble home tonight, 

you’ll flick through menus like passports: 

Chinese, Indian, Thai, 

a taste of somewhere else in every bite. 

Your belly says yes 

to the world you say no to.

 

It’s easy, isn’t it, 

to hate what you don’t know, 

but love it on a plate? 

To fear what you can’t pronounce, 

but crave it for dinner? 

Your fork is braver than your heart. 

Your stomach more open than your mind.

 

We see you, 

draped in cotton stitched overseas, 

trainers made in Vietnam, 

phone built from hands in factories 

that have never felt British soil, 

but hold your future tighter than you do. 

You call this pride. 

But we call it forgetting. 

Forgetting that this island 

is a mosaic of footsteps, 

a patchwork of prayers, 

a hand-me-down jacket 

from centuries of travellers. 

You wear history 

like a blindfold.

 

What are you actually fighting for? 

A myth? 

A memory that never belonged to you? 

An idea of “pure” 

that never existed? 

Even the soil beneath you 

was shaped by glaciers that wandered here 

from somewhere else.

 

We are a nation 

built by boats and borders crossed, 

by accents and spices, 

by stories sewn into every street sign. 

We are not a closed book. 

We are an anthology. 

And you’re standing in the middle of it 

with a marker, 

trying to black out pages 

that taught you how to read.

 

So, here’s my truth: 

No flag can save you from yourself. 

You can clutch it, wave it, 

let it snap and crack in the wind 

like an angry tongue, 

but it will not make you right. 

Because that red cross you worship 

was carried here by immigrants, 

and the jack you wear like armour 

is stitched together from difference, 

not division.

 

So we ask you again: 

What are you actually fighting for?

Because this island was never yours to guard- it was always ours to share. 

And no matter how high you raise that flag, 

it cannot erase the taste of curry on your breath, 

the Cantonese whispers in your takeaway, 

the Portuguese custard on your tongue, 

the Turkish barber shaping your hair, 

the Nigerian nurse who will hold your hand when you’re old and afraid.

 

This is Britain. 

Not the fantasy you’re screaming for, 

but the truth you’re standing on.

A country made rich by every hand that built it. 

A song of accents rising through city streets. 

An anthem of:

borrowed flavours- jerk chicken and jollof, shawarma, sushi, samosas and sourdough, pho, peri-peri, and pints of chai; 

borrowed words- bungalow, ketchup, robot, shampoo, khaki, curry, chocolate, chaos, pyjamas;

borrowed technologies- printing presses, steam engines, satellites, trains that run on rails laid by migrant hands;

borrowed clothing- saris and suits, turbans and trainers, jeans born in Italy, stitched in Bangladesh;

borrowed rhythms- jazz and jungle, bhangra beats and punk guitar, Afrobeats shaking London basements; 

borrowed stories – sagas, scriptures, epics, and myths ferried here on waves and winds;

borrowed inventions – recipes, languages stitched together like patchwork quilts, passports of possibility, hand-me-down hope, 

and second chances.

 

Lower your flag. 

Take a seat. 

Hear the harmony in your own history-

This isn’t a solo,

it is a symphony. 

And know this: 

the strongest nations are not guarded by gates, 

but opened by arms. 

—-

The poem above speaks directly to the myths we tell ourselves as a nation. It exposes the irony of waving a flag stitched together from migration, while demanding purity that never existed. It challenges us to look honestly at the mosaic of influences – food, music, language, technology, healthcare, labour – that make Britain what it is.

This isn’t just a political reflection. It’s an educational one. When schools shy away from teaching the truth, when they reduce Black history to a week in October, when they treat diversity as tokenism rather than truth- they do children a profound disservice. They deny them the tools of empathy, the skills of critical thinking, and the pride of belonging.

Anti-racism in the curriculum is not about ‘teaching politics’. It’s about teaching reality. It’s about ensuring that when children open a textbook, they see the world as it is: interconnected, complex, and beautiful in its diversity.

Final Messages 

  • Curriculum is a mirror, a window, and a door. Children must see themselves reflected, see others clearly, and step into unfamiliar worlds with curiosity rather than fear.
  • Representation is accuracy. Britain’s history is not monocultural. It is centuries of migration, invention, and exchange. To hide that truth is to teach falsehood.
  • Empathy is not optional. It is a skill, and like literacy or numeracy, it must be taught, practised, and embedded.
  • Belonging is safeguarding. A child who feels invisible, erased, or unsafe is not protected. Anti-racism is child protection.

Every chant in the street, every flag raised in anger, every online echo of hate is a reminder: education is where we break these cycles or allow them to continue. If we fail to tell the truth in classrooms, we leave children vulnerable to lies outside them.

 

This reminder is a call to remember that Britain has never been a closed island. It is, and always has been, a crossroads. A patchwork. A symphony. The curriculum must reflect that, not as a concession, but as the truth.


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