Racial Equity in Sheffield: From Commitment to Collective Action
Written by Hannah Wilson
Founder and Director of the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators).
On Friday, I co-organised and co-hosted a Racial Equity Conference in Sheffield for our partners, Sheffield City Council and Learn Sheffield, in collaboration with our Belonging Effect Associate, Homaira Ibrahim.
We opened the day with Simon Sinek’s Golden Circle, inviting everyone in the room to reflect on and share their why. Why were we there? Why does racial equity matter to us? Why are we committed to doing this work?
Before beginning the programme, we also stood together to show our respect and collectively share our condolences with the family, friends and colleagues of Professor Jason Arday.
It was a poignant way to begin a day centred on race, equity, inclusion and belonging.
But the conference was not simply an opportunity to talk about racial equity. It was an opportunity to explore what racial equity looks like when we examine our systems, interrogate our practice, listen to different lived experiences and consider what we are collectively prepared to change.
Because intention matters. But intention alone does not create equity.
Context and collective responsibility
Our first contributions located the conversation firmly within Sheffield.
Fatima Khan-Shah, Chair of the Race Equality Partnership Sheffield (REPS), explored Sheffield’s race equity journey and the role of REPS, highlighting how race equity sits at the heart of the city’s goals and considering the particular role that education and schools play within this wider context.
Meredith Teasdale-Dixon, Strategic Director at Sheffield City Council, focused on responsibility. How do leaders improve outcomes for children and families across Sheffield? How do we create more equitable opportunities and experiences? And importantly, how do we ensure that our commitment results in measurable change?
Dr Shirley Woods-Gallagher, Assistant Director at Sheffield City Council, then explored belonging through an anti-racist lens.
Her contribution connected race, identity, power and inclusion with wellbeing, achievement and community cohesion. Drawing on Sheffield’s citywide Belonging Framework and wider inclusion work, she challenged us to consider how anti-racist practice moves beyond policies and statements of intent and becomes visible in our everyday behaviours, relationships and decision-making.
There was an important thread emerging: racial equity cannot belong to one team, one strategy, one leader or one organisation – it requires collective responsibility. It also requires effort as mentors, coaches and sponsors. Shirley’s role as mentor coach acting as the ladder and lamp for an AuDHD Black trainee teacher really stood out for very many of the audience.
Moving from allyship to advocacy
My contribution to the day focused on allyship and advocacy and, specifically, the journey we take as allies. I invited colleagues to reflect on privilege, vulnerability and our willingness to get things wrong.
Anti-racist work can create discomfort. It can surface strong emotions. It can challenge our perception of ourselves as inclusive people and force us to recognise the occasions when our intentions and our impact have not aligned. But discomfort cannot become an excuse for disengagement.
We need to develop the confidence and courage to create and hold safe spaces for difficult conversations. We need to become more comfortable with being challenged, with learning from mistakes and with recognising what we do not yet know. And we need to be prepared to challenge language, behaviours, decisions and practices that exclude or disadvantage others.
Jennifer Brown’s Allyship Continuum invites us to consider a journey from Apathetic to Aware, from Aware to Active, and ultimately from Active to Advocate.
Perhaps one of the most important questions we can ask ourselves is not simply:
Where do I think I am on that continuum?
But:
What evidence would somebody else use to place me there?
Allyship is not something we declare. It is something other people experience through our choices, behaviours and actions.
Holding the space for inclusion and belonging
Professor Paul Miller, from the Institute for Equity at University Centre, challenged us through his provocation, Democratic Failure or Democratic Resistance: Holding the Centre-Ground in the Fight for Inclusion and Belonging.
His contribution created space for us to think about the wider environment in which our work is taking place and the importance of continuing to engage with questions of inclusion and belonging when they are contested.
Anti-racist practice does not happen in isolation from society. Our schools, organisations and communities are influenced by the narratives, tensions and inequalities that exist beyond their walls.
This means that our commitment to equity cannot simply be reactive. It requires us to understand the context in which we are leading and educating, while remaining clear about our responsibility to create environments in which every child, family and colleague can experience dignity, safety and belonging.
Intersectionality changes what we see
One of the most important themes of the day was intersectionality. Too often, our organisational approaches separate different aspects of inclusion into parallel workstreams. Race sits here. SEND sits there. Gender, faith, socio-economic disadvantage and other aspects of identity sit somewhere else. But people do not experience their identities separately.
Domini Choudhury, Associate at The Belonging Effect, explored what happens when we frame SEND intersectionally. Her session challenged colleagues to consider the multi-layered barriers some learners and their families navigate when trying to have their needs recognised and met. These include societal and systemic barriers within the SEND system itself, but also culturally specific barriers to diagnosis and support.
Cultural and religious frameworks can shape how disability and additional needs are understood. Practitioner bias and unconscious assumptions can influence whose needs are recognised, how behaviours are interpreted and what support is offered.
This creates an important challenge for leaders:
- What happens when we interrogate our SEND data through an intersectional lens?
- Who is being identified?
- Who is not?
- Who receives support, and when?
- Whose behaviour is interpreted as a need and whose is interpreted as a problem?
The data we collect matters. But the questions we are prepared to ask of that data matter too.
Language, identity and the experiences of Black boys
Johnoi Josephs and Albert Adeyemi, founders of Black Men Teach, focused our attention on the educational experiences of Black boys. Their contribution explored the relationship between the language we use and the realities and self-belief we help to create.
Language is never neutral. The words we use to describe children communicate expectations. They shape relationships. They influence how other adults perceive a child and, over time, can influence how that child perceives themselves.
Johnoi and Albert invited us to think intentionally about how we build pride, belonging and positive identity both inside and outside the classroom, and how we create accessible and empowering learning environments in which Black boys can thrive.
This requires us to move beyond deficit narratives and ask different questions:
- Not What is wrong with this child?
- But What might this child be experiencing?
- Not Why will this family not engage?
- But What barriers might we have created to engagement?
- Not simply How do we raise achievement?
- But How do we create the conditions in which children feel seen, valued, understood and able to succeed?
Whose lived experience are we centring?
Olivia Morrison from The Traveller Movement brought another vital perspective to the conversation. Her session explored the discrimination experienced by Romani (Gypsy), Roma and Irish Traveller people, the equality gaps that persist, and the importance of working in genuine partnership with the communities.
Central to this was the need to centre lived experience within anti-racist activity. There is an important distinction between designing for communities and working with them.
If we are serious about equity, we cannot assume that professional expertise gives us all of the answers. We need to listen to people whose experiences of our institutions and systems may be very different from the experiences we believe we are creating. That requires humility. It also requires us to ask who is missing from the conversations in which decisions about them are being made.
Bringing the conversation back to Sheffield
Homaira Ibrahim, Race Equality Partnership Manager at Sheffield City Council and Belonging Effect Associate, brought the different threads of the day back together through the specific context of race, ethnicity and belonging in Sheffield schools. She shared findings from Sheffield’s Race Equality Commission and its recommendations for education, alongside the city’s ethnicity data and current landscape.
She also highlighted the work of AREAS, the Anti Racist Education Alliance Sheffield, the support available for Sheffield schools and opportunities for future collaboration.
This was important. National conversations help us understand patterns and systems. Research helps us understand evidence. Lived experience helps us understand impact. But ultimately, equity work also has to become local:
- What does our data tell us about our children?
- What are our families telling us?
- What patterns can we see within our institutions?
- And what are we going to do about them?
From conversation to collective action
We ended the day with roundtable discussions prompted by Sheffield City Council’s Director of Belonging, Steve Kay.
Three questions were posed:
- What support, resources or opportunities would help you further develop your anti-racist practice?
- What actions can we take collectively to improve outcomes and opportunities for Roma children, families and communities?
- How can we strengthen engagement with marginalised groups to ensure equitable access to Early Years provision?
For me, these questions captured something important about the day. They moved us from What have we heard? to What are we going to do?
Because conferences can create powerful moments of reflection, connection and learning. But the real test comes afterwards – what changes when we return to our schools, teams, organisations and communities?
We show up. We stand up. We speak up. We check in.
We ended the conference by making commitments:
- We show up – Not only when conversations are comfortable or when racial equity is on the agenda, but consistently.
- We stand up – We challenge inequity when we encounter it. We notice who has power, who has access, who is heard and who may be overlooked.
- We speak up – We use our voices, our influence and our privilege to challenge exclusion and advocate alongside others.
- We check in – We listen. We reflect. We seek feedback. We examine our impact. And when necessary, we change our approach.
Anti-racist practice requires us to move through the fear zone, into the learning zone and onwards into the growth zone. It requires curiosity, humility and courage. And it requires action.
The question is not simply whether we care about racial equity. I imagine that most people who chose to spend Friday in that room do.
The harder questions come next:
- What will we notice that we did not notice before?
- What will we question that we previously accepted?
- Whose experiences will we seek to understand?
- What conversations will we now be willing to have?
- What will we challenge?
- What will we change?
Because our commitment to racial equity cannot be measured solely by what we say in rooms where people have gathered because they already care about it. It must be visible in what happens when we leave those rooms. That is where awareness becomes action. That is where allyship becomes advocacy. And that is where we begin shaping intention into impact.
Continue the learning
For those wanting to continue their learning and reflection, my recommended reading from the day was Emma Dabiri’s What White People Can Do Next.
Professor Miller has also shared the article that he cited in his talk: A common enemy approach to anti-racism in higher education | THE Campus Learn, Share, Connect
The Belonging Effect also has a range of free resources to support individuals, schools and organisations in developing their DEIB practice, including our DEIB Calendar, blogs, toolkits, reading lists and glossaries.
Further development opportunities discussed during the day included Sheffield City Council’s Developing Racial Literacy programme, The Belonging Effect’s Diverse Leaders programme, and our Anti-Racism Virtual Conference.
The conference may have ended on Friday. The work, of course, needs to continue and be sustained.
Cultivating a Culture of Belonging: It Is Never ‘Done’
Written by Hannah Wilson
Founder and Director of the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators).
Last week, I had the privilege of chairing a panel at the IAPS Heads’ Conference exploring a question that sits at the heart of my work: how do we cultivate a culture of belonging for all?
I was joined by three school leaders, Charlotte Crookes, Fergus Llewellyn and Sadia Hussain-Savuk, who generously shared their personal and professional journeys through Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Belonging (DEIB).
What struck me throughout our conversation was not a claim to expertise or a presentation of perfectly packaged solutions. Instead, there was honesty, vulnerability and a willingness to share what had been learnt along the way. Their reflective and inclusive leadership modelled how we need to show up to start the work and how we position ourselves in order to sustain it.
Belonging is not something we complete
I framed our conversation by considering what we actually mean when we talk about belonging. For me, belonging is about being seen, heard, included, valued and safe. It is about being able to bring our whole selves into a space without having to edit, minimise or leave parts of our identity at the door.
Belonging is not something we achieve, tick off and move on from. It is dynamic. It is relational. It is contextual. Most importantly, it is cyclical.
As our communities change, our understanding needs to change with them. As we learn more about the lived experiences of our pupils, staff and families, we need to be prepared to question practices that may once have seemed inclusive. As the world beyond our school gates changes, we need to consider what those changes mean for the people within them.
The work is never ‘done’.
Looking in the mirror before looking out of the window
One of the recurring themes in our discussion was the importance of reflection. Before asking what everybody else needs to change, leaders need to be prepared to look closely at themselves and their organisations:
- Who feels that they belong here?
- Who does not?
- Whose voices are heard most loudly?
- Whose experiences might we be missing?
- Who has learnt to navigate our culture successfully, and who is expected to adapt themselves in order to fit in?
And, perhaps most provocatively for independent schools: are we really as inclusive as we believe ourselves to be?
These are not comfortable questions. Nor should they be. Cultivating belonging requires us to look in the mirror before we look out of the window.
Responding to the world beyond the school gates
Our conversation also explored the responsibility schools have to respond to what is happening in wider society. I asked Charlotte to reflect on her journey through anti-racism and racial equity, and how school leaders respond when racism, division and social unrest become increasingly visible beyond the school gates.
These moments matter.
Children and young people do not leave the outside world at reception when they arrive at school. Neither do their families or our colleagues. News stories, political discourse, racism, discrimination and social tensions enter our classrooms through the experiences, fears, questions and conversations of the people in them.
Silence communicates something too.
This does not mean leaders need to have an immediate answer to every complex issue. Leadership is not about having all the answers. It is about how we respond when things are difficult, how we support others and the culture we create around us.
Sometimes courageous leadership begins by acknowledging that we do not have all of the answers and need to learn.
Listening to lived experience
Fergus shared reflections from a journey that has considered a range of identities and, crucially, has involved listening to stakeholders about their experiences of school. This is fundamental to bringing the whole school community with us on the journey.
We cannot measure belonging simply by looking at policies, representation or what leaders intended to create. We have to ask people what it feels like to be there. There can be a significant perception gap between our intention and somebody else’s experience.
Listening helps us find that gap. But listening needs to go beyond consultation. If we repeatedly ask people to share their experiences without demonstrating what we have heard, what we have learnt and what we will change, we risk creating consultation fatigue rather than belonging.
The question is not simply: ‘Have we asked?’ It is: ‘What have we changed because we listened?’
Young people should be co-creators, not consumers
Sadia brought another important dimension to the conversation: the role of young people themselves.
Our pupils care deeply about identity, equity and social justice. They notice inconsistency. They question systems. They experience our school cultures differently from the adults who lead them.
So why would we develop DEIB strategies for young people without developing them with young people? It reminds me of the commitment: nothing about us, without us.
Meaningful pupil voice is not about asking pupils to approve decisions that adults have already made. It means creating opportunities for young people to identify issues, shape priorities, challenge thinking and contribute to solutions.
When we involve pupils as co-creators, we communicate something powerful: your experience matters, your voice has value and you have agency within this community. That, in itself, cultivates belonging.
Courage without perfection
As we brought the panel to a close, I asked each panellist what advice they would give to leaders beginning, or developing, their own DEIB journey.
Several themes emerged:
- Being willing to be vulnerable.
- Acknowledging that it does not have to happen to you to matter to you.
- Listening deeply to your stakeholders and involving them as co-creators.
- Distributing responsibility so that inclusion does not become the work of one passionate individual.
- Creating enough psychological safety for people to make mistakes, acknowledge them, learn from them and do better.
- Taking tangible actions, such as signing up to the Halo Code, which challenges hair discrimination.
- Getting started, with small tangible steps to create momentum.
We addressed the fact that one of the dangers of this work is believing that we need to know everything before we can do anything. We do not. We instead need humility, curiosity and courage. We need to know when to lead, when to listen, when to ask for help and when to acknowledge that our understanding has changed.
From intention to impact
I ended the session by thanking Charlotte, Fergus and Sadia for their courageous leadership and their candour. Their stories reminded us that inclusive leadership is not demonstrated by claiming to have got everything right. It is demonstrated by being willing to ask difficult questions, hear difficult answers and respond intentionally to what we learn.
The feedback following the panel reinforced this. One attendee reflected on leaving with a renewed commitment to ensuring every pupil feels ‘seen, safe, valued and supported’, and to creating a culture where belonging is not merely an aspiration but a lived experience.
That distinction matters as:
- Most schools intend for children to belong.
- Most leaders would say they value inclusion.
- Most mission statements contain words such as respect, community, kindness or equality.
The challenge is not necessarily our intention. The real challenge is whether that intention is experienced by everybody.
So perhaps the questions we need to leave ourselves with are these:
- Who belongs in our schools?
- How do we know?
- Who might experience our culture differently from the way we imagine it?
- Whose voice have we not yet heard?
- What are we prepared to change because of what we hear?
And ultimately:
- How will we know when our intention has become impact?
Cultivating belonging is not a project, an initiative or a destination. It is an ongoing commitment to noticing, listening, learning and acting, and then having the courage to begin the cycle again.
Continue the conversation
At The Belonging Effect, our commitment is to Shaping Intention into Impact. Our team supports schools and organisations to move beyond good intentions and create cultures where belonging can be experienced, strengthened and measured.
References and resources
Explore our training and resources on The Belonging Effect website, including our Belonging Toolkit, and continue your professional learning with my book, Cultivating Belonging in Schools.
RIP Professor Jason Arday: The Tragic Cost of Scrutiny
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.
Representation Starts Here: Developing Student Leadership Through a DEIB Lens
Written by Dwight Weir
Dwight is a Deputy Headteacher and Life Coach. He is also an inspector for British Schools Overseas. Dwight has a passion for coaching and leadership development.
Walk into many schools and you will see student leaders everywhere. Head students. Prefects. Ambassadors. School council representatives. The question is: who gets to lead?
Too often, student leadership reflects the same patterns we see elsewhere in society. The confident voices are heard. The popular students are selected. The pupils who already fit the image of a “leader” are given the opportunities. Representation starts here.
If we are serious about Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Belonging (DEIB), we must rethink how we identify, develop and celebrate student leaders.
Leadership Is Not a Look
Many schools unintentionally reward visibility over potential. Students who are articulate, academically successful or naturally outgoing are often first in line for leadership opportunities. Meanwhile, quieter pupils, students with SEND, disadvantaged learners, multilingual pupils and those from underrepresented backgrounds can be overlooked.
The result?
Student leadership becomes exclusive rather than inclusive.
A DEIB approach asks a different question: Whose leadership are we missing?
Expanding the Definition of Leadership
Leadership is more than standing on a stage or speaking into a microphone.
Leadership can be:
- The student who welcomes a new classmate.
- The pupil who advocates for accessibility.
- The young person who challenges injustice.
- The learner who quietly supports others every day.
- The student who demonstrates resilience in the face of adversity.
When schools broaden their definition of leadership, more students can see themselves reflected in leadership roles. And when students can see it, they can believe it is possible.
Equity Over Equality
Giving every student the same opportunity is not always enough. Some students need encouragement, coaching, mentoring or targeted development before they feel confident enough to step forward. An equitable approach recognises that leadership pathways should not simply be open; they should be accessible.
This might mean:
- Creating leadership programmes for underrepresented groups.
- Actively encouraging applications from students who would not normally put themselves forward.
- Providing coaching and mentoring.
- Removing unnecessary barriers to participation.
Equity is not lowering standards. It is widening access.
Representation Matters
Students are constantly scanning their environment for signals.
- Who gets chosen?
- Who gets listened to?
- Who gets celebrated?
- Who gets promoted?
When leadership teams reflect the diversity of the student population, powerful messages are sent. Students begin to see that leadership is not reserved for a particular gender, ethnicity, social background, ability level or personality type.
They see possibility…They see belonging…They see themselves…
Moving Beyond Tokenism
Representation alone is not enough. A diverse student leadership team without influence changes very little. Student leaders must have genuine opportunities to shape decisions, influence policy and improve school culture. Their voices should not simply be heard. They should be acted upon.
The most effective schools move from student voice to student influence.
The Leadership Legacy
Student leadership is not just about organising events or leading assemblies. It is about preparing young people for the world they will inherit. When schools develop leadership through a DEIB lens, they cultivate empathy, courage, advocacy, collaboration and social responsibility. They create young people who understand that leadership is not about power over others. It is about creating opportunities for others. Because representation does not begin in the boardroom. It does not begin in parliament. It does not begin in the workplace.
Representation starts here.
In our classrooms. In our corridors. In our student leadership programmes.
And in the belief that every young person has the potential to lead.
AI Will Shape Education - But Who Gets to Shape AI?
Written by Belonging Effect
Belonging Effect is committed to shaping intention into impact and supporting people with their Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, & Belonging strategy and training needs.
Artificial intelligence is already changing education. From lesson planning and assessment tools to tutoring platforms and student support systems, AI is becoming embedded in how schools operate and how young people learn. The conversation is no longer about whether AI will influence education. It already does.
The real question is this: Who gets to shape the future of AI in education?
Because AI is not neutral. Every AI system reflects the decisions, assumptions, priorities, and perspectives of the people who build it. The data selected. The questions asked. The problems chosen to solve. The voices included – and excluded – from the room.
If we are not intentional, AI risks reinforcing the very inequities education is trying to disrupt. And that matters deeply for schools.
We have already seen examples of AI systems producing biased outcomes:
- Recruitment algorithms favouring certain demographics
- Writing detection tools disproportionately flagging multilingual learners
- Facial recognition systems performing less accurately on darker skin tones
- Predictive technologies reinforcing historical inequalities rather than challenging them
Bias in AI is often not malicious. But it can become invisible, automated, and scaled at a speed education systems have never seen before. That is why educators must be part of shaping AI strategy – not simply responding to it after decisions have already been made.
Teachers, school leaders, inclusion specialists, youth workers, parents, and community voices bring something essential to this conversation: human understanding. Educators understand context: they understand belonging; they understand lived experience; they understand the difference between efficiency and equity.
If AI strategy is shaped only by technologists and commercial interests, we risk creating systems that optimise for speed and standardisation over humanity and inclusion.
But there is another possibility…
AI could become a powerful tool for accessibility, creativity, personalisation, and opportunity – if a broader and more diverse range of people are involved in shaping what responsible AI looks like in practice.
That means we need more diverse voices and thinkers involved: more perspectives; more challenge; more collaboration. We need people from different backgrounds, communities, cultures, identities, and professional experiences helping to shape the future of AI in education. Not because diversity is a “nice to have,” but because it is a safeguard against harm.
At The Belonging Effect, we believe belonging and equity must sit at the centre of conversations about innovation and technology. That is why we are inviting our network to get involved.
Over the coming months, we will be hosting a series of free webinars exploring AI, education, equity, and belonging. These sessions are designed to create accessible spaces for educators and leaders to learn, question, challenge, and contribute to the conversation – regardless of their starting point with AI.
We are also collaborating on a fully funded training programme with our partners at CVP Group for educators and professionals who want to deepen their understanding of AI, inclusive practice, and ethical leadership in this rapidly evolving space.
We are keen to amplify more diverse voices in this conversation as too often, discussions about AI are dominated by a narrow range of perspectives so we want to help change that. Therefore, we are actively looking to publish blogs, reflections, case studies, and opinion pieces from educators, practitioners, community leaders, and changemakers from diverse backgrounds who are thinking critically about AI, inclusion, belonging, and the future of education.
You do not need to be an AI expert. You do not need to work in technology. If you care about equity, representation, belonging, and the future young people are inheriting, your voice matters, because the future of AI in education should not be built for communities without them – it must be built with them.
This moment presents both a challenge and an opportunity as the decisions being made now will shape classrooms, opportunities, and experiences for years to come. We cannot afford for those decisions to be shaped by only a small group of voices. Disrupting bias in AI starts with diversifying who is involved in shaping strategy and that work belongs to all of us.
The future of AI is being written right now. The question is whether education – and the communities most impacted by these technologies – will help write the story.
To join one of our free webinars, apply for the fully funded training programme, or contribute a blog to our growing community of voices, connect with The Belonging Effect today. Our monthly newsletter will be out on Wednesday.
Together, let’s ensure the future of AI in education is inclusive, ethical, and rooted in belonging.
Race and Leadership Roles in Schools – My Story
Written by Patrick Cozier
Patrick Cozier is a headteacher, a coach and the author of Calm Leadership.
Desire to be a Headteacher
I came into teaching because of a desire to make a difference to the lives of children. I have always believed that education has the ability to transform lives and create opportunities for young people. My own personal example is one that I always draw strength from. My parents came over from Barbados in the 1960s as part of the Windrush generation – my mother an auxiliary nurse and my father a postal worker. They came here with the intention of creating a better life for their children than they had experienced. Education was at the heart of this dream. And so, it began…
I started teaching in September 1994, in South London. I knew by 1996 that I wanted to be a Headteacher. Working in a school with a high number of Black and Asian children, I could see the impact that myself and some other Black staff in the school had on connecting with those students and providing role models to fuel their aspiration. I recognised pretty early that if we could have that effect as teachers, the potential for Black and Asian leaders to create a significant positive impact was huge. I wanted to be THAT person. From that moment on, everything that I did in my teaching career was done with the intention to propel me towards that aim.
For me it was interesting, because I did not at the time view being Black as a disadvantage. I felt very much as though it was one of my big selling points. I always felt that my ‘Blackness’ (i.e., my cultural heritage, skill set, adaptability, and shared experiences with children from African and Caribbean heritage) would place me in a strong position to lead a school with a mix of cultures. In the early days of my career, I did not see barriers – just dreams, ambitions and goals.
What I did not consider was that my own sense of value and self-belief was only half the story. The challenge was finding ways to ensure that others (in particular governors doing the selecting) could see in me what I saw in me. This was a much bigger challenge than I had anticipated, and I think explains to a large extent why there are comparatively few senior leaders and Headteachers from Black and Asian backgrounds represented in the profession.
Gov.UK – School Teacher Workforce February 2021 shows
- in 2019, 85.7% of all teachers in state-funded schools in England were White British (where ethnicity was known)
- 78.5% of the working age population was White British at the time of the 2011 Census
- 92.7% of headteachers were White British
| Ethnicity | % of the Working Population | % of
Classroom Teachers |
% of Deputies and Assistant Heads | % of Headteachers |
| White British | 85.7 | 84.9 | 89.7 | 92.7 |
| White Irish | 1.5 | 1.5 | 1.7 | 1.8 |
Source: School Workforce in England: November 2019 https://explore-education-statistics.service.gov.uk/find-statistics/school-workforce-in-england
The data in the table above gives a clear indication of the national picture. The percentage of White British teachers in 2019 (84.9) was almost identical to the percentage of the working population that was White British (85.7). The percentage of Headteachers who were White British at this time was 92.7, which shows an over-representation.
Contrast this with the same data for Black African, Black Caribbean and Black Other below.
| Ethnicity | % of the Working Population | % of
Classroom Teachers |
% of Deputies and Assistant Heads | % of Headteachers |
| Black African | 1.9 | 1.0 | 0.4 | 0.2 |
| Black Caribbean | 1.2 | 1.1 | 1.0 | 0.7 |
| Black Other | 0.5 | 0.4 | 0.2 | 0.1 |
Source: School Workforce in England: November 2019 https://explore-education-statistics.service.gov.uk/find-statistics/school-workforce-in-england
The proportion of Headteachers is a significant under-representation of Black heads and as compared to both the general working population and the proportion of classroom teachers.
What this points to is the comparatively poor progression that has been made in the profession for our Black African and Black Caribbean colleagues. So, what is the story here?
There are many theories for why the number of Black Headteachers is so low.
- Poor/biased recruitment processes
- Insufficient opportunities for development of our Black teachers in school
- Black teachers do not want to apply because
- they do not believe they will be given an opportunity or
- they do not see headship itself as an attractive prospect or
- They feel the situation of headship for a person of colour is precarious as they will be judged harshly if things go wrong
In my conversations with colleagues over the years I have encountered all of the above scenarios. It seems to be commonplace and the data certainly supports this view – that is, unless you believe in the meritocratic theory and your view is that there are just insufficient Black candidates who are up to the job. I personally can’t and won’t accept this as a position.
My own journey was nearly derailed by one line manager who tried to sabotage my first ever application for a senior leadership position. This was back in 2001. I was a head of year, and I was keen on promotion. I was confident and believed that I was ready. My line manager did not and told me so – I recall her specific words were ‘I would be worried if you were appointed to a senior leadership role’. Now to be fair, I don’t know whether my Blackness had anything to do with her view, but I do not that she failed to see the potential in me at the time.
However, I was fortunate in that I was confident, and my Headteacher at the time believed in my capacity to do a great job as a senior leader. His support turned out to be critical as following a very successful interview process I was informed by the school that I had applied to that the two references that they had received were in contrast – one very supportive and the other less so. I found that disappointing, but sadly predictable.
The Headteacher of the school that I had applied to (who in the end decided to appoint me) explained to me that what they saw and felt throughout my gruelling two-day interview process was more aligned to the reference from my Headteacher, than that of my immediate line manager – so they took a chance and believed in me. I haven’t looked back since.
But now I think… was I just one of the lucky ones?
Much can be done to change this situation. For example,
- The government should invest in the diversity of our sector and fund leadership development programmes for people of colour.
- Governing bodies need to think about their own makeup and be genuinely committed to proactively recruiting governors who represent the communities served by the school.
- Governing bodies also need to consider how a lack of diversity influences the decisions they make when recruiting senior leaders – in particular they need to seek out training in unconscious bias and use their learning from that to shape thought and process.
- More of our current crop of leaders of colour need to adhere to the ‘each one, teach one’ mantra – we have to give back and help our more junior colleagues navigate their way through the system the way that we have through coaching, mentoring and offering opportunities for work experience and shadowing.
Afraid of own shadow
I started my first headship at the age of 34 in September 2006, just 18 months after I have first become a deputy. It was sooner than I had anticipated, and it was scary. Despite my clear ambition to be a headteacher, I was not expecting it quite so soon. And the truth was, I was not quite ready for what I was taking on. I think I was scared of my own shadow! I was confident that I could learn quickly (and boy, did I have to!), but the journey was a very challenging one and extended me in ways that I did not know was possible.
I was an internal candidate. I applied for the job because I wanted to take advantage of the experience of applying for headships and going through the process. I applied because I was convinced by those around me that I would be a good candidate for the job. I applied because I wanted to compare myself to the competition. Never (and I mean like, ever) did I imagine I would get the job, until the second day of interviews when I was down to the final three candidates from over 30 applicants. Then it hit me… This was REAL! After I was successful on day 2 and I was offered the job, I responded by asking the then Chair of Governors, ‘Are you sure?’. In hindsight, that was a silly (albeit honest) thing to say based on how I felt at the time.
I was excited, but also petrified. To talk about ‘imposter syndrome’ would not do how I felt at the time any justice. I remember saying to my coach (who was a very experienced ex-headteacher) that I just couldn’t get used to the feeling of constantly being on the edge of my comfort zone. It was just not something that I was prepared for.
The first few years were tough and represented a very steep learning curve. My first challenge was not so much about leading the school as leading my colleagues. I was the last one in – the young pretender. Suddenly, I was thrust into having to manage a team of people who were more experienced than I was and who had been at my school for longer than me. My confidence to make decisions when others who I had great respect for, and a sense of awe in some cases, disagreed.
There was also the added pressure of being a young Black Headteacher, at the time one of only 11 secondary school male Black Headteachers of African-Caribbean heritage in the UK. I felt proud, but also daunted. I enjoyed the wearing the cloak of representation. A particular source of joy and strength for me was hearing from Black parents how pleased they were to see me in my role and how much they were rooting for me. That always touched me (and still does) and I used it as fuel to overcome some of the fears of the role. I have always embraced this responsibility as a privilege rather than a burden. However, it is not easy.
The need to be extra-vigilant about what one says is tough and draining. The feeling of being a lone voice at the many tables at which one sits in Headship and as a system leader can be frustrating and dispiriting. These all make the job much more demanding as a person of colour.
However the biggest difficulty that I had as a new Headteacher (and admittedly still now at times) was the propensity that I had for editing myself. It is hard to explain, but as a Black person in a position of leadership there are certain stereotypes about Black people that you are aware of and wish to avoid. I found myself minimising certain aspects of my culture and natural state of being. Below are some examples, with differing degrees of seriousness.
- Turning down my music in the car as I drive through the gates in the morning – not wanting other staff to hear the beautiful thumping reggae beats that set up my positive and confident mood for the day.
- Being cool and calm at ALL times. I was very aware of the stereotype of the ‘angry Black man’, and I never wanted to fall foul of this.
- Restricting the desire to challenge racism whenever and wherever I witnessed it. As a Black person you see it all the time in various different explicit and implicit guises and you want to call it out – but the editing process leads you to pick your battles carefully as you don’t want to be seen as that Black person where ‘everything is about race’.
- I edited my accent. Around friends and family it is entirely natural to speak in our heavy patois dialect. There were times in the early days where I wanted to do so with Black colleagues or students to accentuate that connection and shared experience through a shared language, but the pressure of being the Black Headteacher prevented me from doing so.
When I reflect now on how important these issues are, the conclusion that I draw is that they are crucial. It isn’t so much about the trivial nature of some of the edits described above. There is something more fundamental taking place in my view that gnaws away at the very purpose of diversity. Having diversity in leadership can only make a difference if leaders bring their diversity in with them as they travel through the school gates. To edit oneself is to lose the very difference that your diversity can make. It essentially turns everyone into a middle-class white man.
Based on my reflections of my own journey and experiences, I now make a point of telling our young aspiring Black leaders to be themselves. I tell them that their authenticity is actually what matters the most. They each can bring something different to the role if they are prepared to be brave and resist the temptation to edit.
In the early stages of my headship, I had great support from a range of coaches that I saw in my first few years in post – and each helped me significantly in very different ways. As well as the need to feel like I was worthy of the job, I had that added need to stop falling to the temptation of editing myself. I learned a lot from my coaches. The helped me make sense of my experiences and supported the development of the sense of perspective that I have honed over time. However, my early struggles were tough – and when I think of it now, I reflect on how I might have changed the nature of that support if I could go back as an experienced leader now and help my younger, less experienced self. I have been developing something I refer to as ‘Calm Leadership’ as a means of addressing this (What is calm leadership and why is it important? (sec-ed.co.uk)).
Getting Diversity in a Team Which Is Not Diverse
Although diversity in leadership is the ultimate aim to ensure that leadership is inclusive in its purpose and function, the reality is that many teams are not there in terms of the representation among the leadership. Getting the team to that point is a long-term strategy. In the meantime, it is important to find ways to work with what you have to increase awareness, understanding and to promote diversity of thought and approach.
I have a leadership team that is not diverse. We represent a school community that looks different from the team of senior leaders who are there to represent them. The same is true of my wider staff body. We have done a number of things over the last couple of years to try to move things forward. Some examples are shared below:
- We got our leadership team to read the book White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo and Brit(ish): On Race, Identity and Belonging by Afua Hirsch and to reflect on their own views, perspectives and practice
- Presentation from the me to staff on my own journey to being a Headteacher – sharing my experiences as a Black boy in North London to a Black man
- We showed staff videos recordings of our Black and Asian students talking about their experiences at our school
- We weaved our equality targets into our SDP – so every other departmental plan must reference this
- All student data is broken down and analysed by a range of sub-criteria including ethnic background
- We have a Racial Equity governor
- We have created a Student Cultural Diversity Forum (early stages)
- Zero tolerance of any racist behaviours – even against ‘your own’
- Staff have received training in unconscious bias
- We have reviewed our approach to promoting positive behaviours utilising the skills and experience of an external behaviour specialist
- Every member of staff was given the opportunity to have a book on anti-racism brought for them to read for the summer – 65 took up the offer! We have met twice since September to review, learn and apply
Race and Leadership Roles in Schools
Race matters. Visibility matters. Diversity matters. In leadership roles, they matter even more… so long as they actually make a difference.
Authenticity is the key. We have to train people to be their authentic selves as diverse leaders in order for the diversity of their experiences, backgrounds, thinking approaches and views to bring something different to the table.
In order to benefit from this, we need to make sure that we are doing more to encourage and bring the talent pool of ethnic global majority leaders through the system. We need to get more Black and Asian teachers into the profession and then help them progress their journeys through to leadership. To do this we must carefully consider the current barriers and blockers as to why this is not already the case and find ways to overcome them. This will take leadership at all levels, from the UK Government, down to Local Authorities and Multi-Academy Trusts and ultimately with the school governors and leaders.
If Black and Asian Leaders succeed, then everybody does!
Navigating Inclusion as a Trainee Teacher
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
ASPIRE: Creating a culture where everyone can flourish
Written by Michele Deeks
Michele Deeks is a psychologist whose passion is helping people to be at their best more of the time. She is a Director of Work Positive and co-creator of the At My Best product range.
There seems to be an ever-growing body of evidence suggesting that our education system simply isn’t working for many teachers or learners. From the All-Party Parliamentary Group for Education’s inquiry into the Loss of Love of Learning, through to reports showing unprecedented levels of staff stress and burnout, the challenges seem to be numerous.
It can be hard to know how to even begin to make things better. Something we can all influence, however, is the culture in our classrooms and institutions. Dr Sue Roffey, a psychologist and academic with extensive expertise in whole school wellbeing, has developed the ASPIRE model for flourishing cultures. The six principles in this model stimulate both discussion and action on what we can do day-to-day to enable everyone to be at their best.
In this video Sue talks to me about the ASPIRE model and its potential to transform staff and pupils’ experience of education.
https://vimeo.com/1140772098?fl=ip&fe=ec
ASPIRE is an acronym for Agency, Safety, Positivity, Inclusion, Respect and Equity. It is a model of culture that draws inspiration from developmental and child psychology, positive psychology and neuroscience as well as extensive education research and Dr Roffey’s own experience and practice in schools across the world.
So what does each principle look and feel like in practice?
Agency
Agency is about empowerment. Agency in the classroom is evident where every pupil recognises they have a voice and a choice. Where learners are active agents in their learning, where they are involved in shaping what happens in their classroom, recognising not only how they can influence their own experiences, but how they can positively impact their peers and teachers too.
Safety
A safe educational setting keeps everyone safe from physical harm and mental distress, but it goes beyond that – in a safe environment everyone is accepted for themselves; everyone feels able to make contributions and take risks without fearing punishment, blame or humiliation.
Positivity
A strong sense of positivity in the classroom isn’t about ignoring what’s wrong or being unrealistic about what’s possible, but about shifting the focus to what’s working well. It’s about creating a culture that values and encourages a positive mindset, positive emotions, strengths-based language and solution-focused actions. It is also about having fun together.
Inclusion
An inclusive environment is one that demonstrates appreciation of diversity in a way that encourages behaviours and practices that increase everyone’s sense of belonging. Inclusivity means celebrating each person’s unique place in the world and valuing our shared humanity. It is about ensuring that everyone feels they matter and can contribute.
Respect
Treating others in the way they prefer to be treated sits at the heart of the principle of respect. Where respect is embedded in an educational setting it’s evident the whole person is valued, hierarchical privilege is minimised and there’s thoughtful consideration for differences in perspectives, contexts, feelings and needs.
Equity
Strong themes of fairness and flexibility are evident in environments that prioritise equity, with a recognition and understanding that one size does not fit all. Different accommodations are made for different students and staff to enable everyone to achieve optimal levels of contribution and outcome.
Each of the six principles brings something different to a culture. It is challenging for staff and students to flourish when any are missing. The principles also interact, overlap and affirm each other with individual behaviours, routines and habits sometimes being indicative of several.
So how can we embed ASPIRE in practice? Dr Roffey argues that culture isn’t something that can be imposed – it’s a shared responsibility. It’s something that everyone within an education setting influences on a daily basis. Culture is made up of our daily behaviours and practices. If we’re looking to change ‘how we do things around here’ we need to work out what we need to be doing differently and what perhaps needs more emphasis. There is no particular principle of ASPIRE that you need to start with. Instead, it’s about starting where it makes sense in your setting, working collaboratively to explore what’s working well and identifying clear, tangible actions that you can take to make sure your culture is one where everyone can flourish.
Watch the webinar (46 mins) to hear Dr Roffey explain the background to the ASPIRE model and the newly launched ASPIRE Culture Cards.
When 'Belonging' Replaces 'Equity': The Silence of White Male Educators
Written by Hannah Wilson
Founder and Director of the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators).
Across schools, colleges and trusts, a quiet linguistic shift has taken root. Many white male educators – often in leadership roles, often well-meaning – are talking less about diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) and more about belonging. At first, it sounds like progress. Who could possibly argue with belonging? It’s warm, inclusive, even healing.
But beneath that linguistic comfort lies something more complicated. When white male educators embrace “belonging” while sidestepping conversations about diversity, equity and inclusion, they risk participating in a subtle but powerful form of avoidance – one that centres comfort over accountability, and cohesion over justice.
The Appeal of ‘Belonging’
There’s no denying the emotional resonance of belonging. Everyone wants to feel seen, valued, and part of a community. The word signals care and connection – qualities deeply needed in our schools.
Yet belonging, in its current popular use, carries a kind of neutrality that makes it especially attractive to those uncomfortable with conversations about race, power, and privilege. It sounds universal and non-political. It doesn’t demand that we ask who has been excluded, whose histories have been erased, or whose comfort is prioritized.
For many white male educators, “belonging” feels like safer ground. It lets them express empathy without stepping into the uneasy territory of systemic inequity. It invites community-building without requiring structural change.
But that safety is precisely the problem.
What Gets Lost When We Skip DEI
Belonging, when untethered from the work of diversity, equity, and inclusion, risks becoming a hollow promise. It shifts the focus from systems to feelings – from justice to comfort.
- Diversity asks: Who is here? Who is missing?
- Equity asks: Who has access to opportunity and resources? Who are the gatekeepers?
- Inclusion asks: Whose voices shape our culture and decisions? Who is being silenced?
- Belonging, in its best form, should ask: How do we ensure everyone feels valued within equitable systems?
But too often, belonging is invoked instead of those questions, not because of them. It becomes a way to soothe rather than to solve – a way to look caring without confronting the root causes of exclusion.
In that sense, “belonging” can function as the linguistic comfort food of educational leadership: it fills us up emotionally but leaves the deeper hunger for justice untouched. In other words, it is a plaster on a problem, the problem just becomes hidden.
The Silence of Power
Language choices are never neutral, especially when made by those in positions of authority. White male educators still hold disproportionate power in most educational spaces – whether as principals, governors, professors, or thought leaders. Their voices shape what counts as acceptable discourse.
When those voices go quiet around diversity, equity, and inclusion, the silence speaks volumes. It signals to colleagues and students that DEI is passé, divisive, or optional. It allows institutions to drift away from equity work under the comforting banner of belonging.
And when belonging becomes the new vocabulary of leadership, it risks recentring white male experience – transforming a call for justice into a call for harmony, where discomfort is avoided rather than embraced as part of growth.
This silence doesn’t just maintain the status quo; it legitimises it. It says, “We care, but not enough to change.”
The Cost of Comfort
The consequences of this linguistic shift are real.
- DEI initiatives lose funding or visibility because “we’re focusing on belonging now.”
- Educators of colour are asked to “bring everyone together” instead of naming inequity.
- Students from marginalised backgrounds hear that they “belong,” but still experience microaggressions, biased pedagogy, and uneven discipline.
The rhetoric of belonging, when detached from diversity and equity, offers inclusion without transformation. It becomes a story we tell ourselves about progress, even as the systems of inequity remain intact.
True belonging is not created through slogans, surveys, or drop down days. It grows when power is redistributed, voices long ignored are amplified, and systems are redesigned to ensure fairness. Without that foundation, belonging is little more than an emotional gloss over structural inequity (or some pretty icing on some stale cake).
A Call Back to Courage
None of this is to say that belonging doesn’t matter. It matters deeply. But belonging must be built on top of equity, not in place of it.
White male educators, in particular, have a responsibility to stay in the discomfort – to speak not just about togetherness, but about justice. Silence is not neutrality; it is complicity. And shifting the language without shifting the practice is not progress – it’s retreat.
Belonging that is worth having will always be born from honesty, from the willingness to look directly at inequity and to act against it. It requires courage, humility, and a refusal to choose comfort over truth.
A Final Thought
If we are serious about belonging, then we must be serious about diversity, equity, and inclusion. Because real belonging does not come from soft language – it comes from hard work.
Belonging without equity is not inclusion.
It’s avoidance dressed as empathy.
The challenge for white male educators – and indeed, for all of us – is to ensure that our words do not outpace our courage.
Thus, we must become more conscious of who we are when we are doing DEIB work, we must be confident we are tackling problems and not causing further harm, we must be competent in navigating each layer of our workplace culture as belonging is only surfaced when diversity, equity and inclusion are established and embedded in the foundations.
Defying Gravity: The Moral and Systemic Corruption of the UK - A Wicked Retrospective
Written by Adrian McLean
Ambassador of Character, Executive Headteacher, TEDx Speaker, BE Associate Trainer & Coach, Governors for Schools Trustee, Positive Disruptor
My family and I were like most people across the country. We had been waiting for the new Wicked film to drop. We booked release day and went in ready for the spectacle. The film delivered what we expected: strong performances, sharp visuals and a story that still hits. But I walked out thinking about something else entirely. Beneath the entertainment sat a message about power, belonging and corruption that felt uncomfortably close to home. That is what pushed me to write this piece.
Wicked lands because it shows how fear, pressure and status can twist people who start with decent intentions. You watch two leaders take different paths, both shaped by the same system that rewards silence and punishes dissent. That world is fiction, but the pattern matches the UK’s struggle with Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Belonging (DEIB). When a system prizes comfort over justice, virtues start to warp into vices and inequality becomes normal.
The Emerald City and the Illusion of UK Stability
Elphaba is excluded from the start. Her difference becomes a tool for control. The Wizard turns that fear into policy by stripping the animals of their rights. Oz calls itself prosperous, but the shine hides a rotten core.
The UK does the same. The claim of stability masks persistent, recorded inequities. Black Caribbean pupils are still excluded from school at far higher rates than White British pupils, which fuels the Schools to Prison Pipeline. Minority ethnic jobseekers continue to submit far more applications for the same employer interest. Data from the Social Metrics Commission shows Black and minority ethnic people are more than twice as likely to experience relative poverty and face higher exposure to fuel and food insecurity. None of this is new. It is repeated in every major review that looks at structural inequality.
The pattern is simple. Exclusion begins with a label, then becomes a story, then becomes a policy. When a state or organisation frames a group as a threat to stability, belonging becomes conditional and rights become flexible. Oz had the silencing of the animals. We have exclusions, unequal labour market outcomes and cost of living impacts that fall hardest on the same groups every time.
Virtues Turned into Vices
Wicked shows that the Wizard’s regime survives because people with influence let their virtues bend under pressure. They do not wake up intending to harm anyone, they drift into it.
Glinda thrives because she is charming and quick to connect. Her core virtue is affability. She wants harmony, status and approval. Under pressure, this slides into moral silence. She denies Elphaba to keep her place in the system and tells herself that compromise keeps things stable.
The UK has Glindas’ in politics, business and education. These are the institutional centrists who talk about fairness without taking risks that would cost them capital or access. They avoid reforms that would unsettle sponsors, investors or senior colleagues. When DEIB becomes politically inconvenient, they retreat. Their instinct for consensus turns into complacency and the result is stalled progress.
Elphaba’s driving virtue is conviction. She sees injustice and refuses to look away. She fights for the animals when no one else will. Under pressure, this hardens into isolation. She stops listening and her stance becomes so rigid that her allies shrink back. The regime uses that isolation to paint her as the problem.
The UK has Elphabas in social movements, school leadership and community activism. They push equity forward when institutions resist. The risk is that their conviction becomes inflexible. When leaders hold the line alone, they become easy to discredit. They get written off as difficult, extreme or disruptive, even when their claims are evidence backed.
The Wizard builds his authority by shaping the story people live inside. He presents order, progress and unity. Behind the curtain is manipulation and fear. His virtue is charisma coupled with organisational skill. Under pressure, this becomes populism. He manufactures enemies to distract from his failures.
The UK has seen its own operators of conformity. The rise of symbolic politics is one example. The volume of flags, organisational figureheads and public posturing has increased while pay gaps, attainment gaps and poverty rates keep widening. It is easier to demand visible allegiance than to fix structural problems.
A core tactic in this pattern is the creation of a convenient scapegoat. In Wicked, the Wizard convinces the public that Elphaba is responsible for every disruption in Oz. The accuracy of the claim is irrelevant. The story does the work. Parts of UK discourse follow the same script when complex economic pressures are reduced to a simple claim that immigrants are the cause of national strain. This persists even when economic data shows that immigration contributes net labour, tax revenue and essential workforce capacity. The point is not evidence. The point is to give the public a target that keeps attention away from systemic failure. When critics raise equity issues, they are dismissed as divisive or ideological. This mirrors the way the Wizard and Madame Morrible brand Elphaba as wicked to steer attention away from his regime.
Defying the Wizard: finding the mean
Elphaba’s turning point comes when she stops running and confronts the system head-on. She rejects the false choice between silence and isolation. She does not become Glinda. She does not become a fanatic. She chooses the difficult mean between the two.
The UK needs the same shift. Our current system rewards leaders who avoid conflict or leaders who burn out fighting it alone. We need leaders who will act before the next inquiry or crisis forces their hand. That requires policy choices that tackle the structural inequities we keep measuring but rarely fix.
Three moves that will help to shift the system.
- Mandatory and enforced pay transparency
Ethnicity and disability pay gap reporting should match the current gender reporting model with annual publication and mandatory action plans. This exposes the blocks that keep certain groups stuck at the bottom of organisational hierarchies. When data is public, silence becomes harder and accountability becomes real. This cuts off the pattern where affability turns into complacency. - De-biasing the talent pipeline
Hiring and promotion systems need unbiased review at the early stages and consistent scoring frameworks at later stages. Several public bodies and trusts have already piloted these methods with measurable gains in fairness and diversity. The point is not ideology. It is basic organisational integrity. Merit cannot be judged if bias enters the process before talent is seen. This stops conviction from becoming isolated because people no longer have to fight as lone moral actors to access opportunity. - Anchoring belonging in policy
Belonging cannot remain an aspiration or marketing phrase. It needs to sit inside the cost of living strategy, local authority funding decisions and NHS workforce plans. Policies should undergo Equality Impact Assessments (EIA) that account for race, disability, gender and income as a minimum. The data already exists. The gap is political will. Without structural safeguards, the same groups get hit first every time the economy tightens.
The most potent lesson from Wicked is that silence and fear serve the powerful. Until the core structure of the UK (Emerald City) is challenged, the wicked labels, the resulting inequalities and the denial of Belonging will persist.
Call to Action
Belonging will not grow by itself. It grows when people stop accepting shortcuts, scapegoats and silence.
- Challenge claims that have no evidence. Look at the data, not the headline.
- Ask leaders for the numbers behind their decisions and push for policies that close gaps rather than mask them.
- In workplaces, demand transparent reporting, fair recruitment and consistent standards.
- Back colleagues who raise equity issues instead of leaving them exposed.
These steps are not dramatic, but they are the ones that stop a society falling for the Wizard’s story and start shifting it toward something fairer.