Beyond Verbal Communication: How to Help Support Multiple Forms of Expression
Written by Tessa Dodson
Tessa Dodson is an education writer passionate about supporting teachers and fostering inclusive classroom environments. She specializes in covering classroom resources, educational trends, teacher wellness, and practical strategies to help educators succeed.
Every student deserves the opportunity to express themselves authentically. For autistic and neurodivergent learners, nonverbal communication serves as a vital pathway to engagement and self-expression. By embracing varied approaches to communication development, educators can create inclusive classrooms that empower students to share their unique perspectives.
Understanding Nonverbal Cues and Body Language
With around 1 million people in the UK affected by autism, understanding and supporting a variety of communication styles has become increasingly important in today’s classrooms. Communication happens through a combination of words, tone of voice, facial expressions, gestures and body language. For neurotypical individuals, these nonverbal signals occur naturally and help create a shared understanding.
However, autistic and neurodivergent students may process or express these cues differently. Behaviours that appear unusual can simply reflect a different, equally valid way of communicating. For example, their forms of nonverbal communication may include averted eye contact to reduce sensory input and improve focus or repetitive movements like hand-flapping. They may also present unique postures or movements, such as toe-walking, or speak in a monotone.
Effective communication development begins when teachers learn to recognise and respect each student’s authentic signals. The first step is attentive, open observation, such as noticing how a student communicates when they are calm, overwhelmed or stressed. Over time, educators can better understand individual communication patterns and respond in ways that support trust and inclusion.
Incorporating Sign Language for Clearer Communication
In UK classrooms, British Sign Language offers a complete language system for nonverbal or minimally verbal students to express their wants, needs and ideas. For some learners, this form of nonverbal communication can reduce frustration by providing alternative ways to express themselves clearly.
Sign language also lays the foundation for communication by teaching the essential back-and-forth of interaction. For example, making a request or responding to another person helps students develop functional communication skills that can support broader communication development. Applied Behaviour Analysis methods often incorporate sign language to teach these essential communication skills while helping individuals strengthen connections with others. Reliable interaction through signing creates opportunities for social interaction, friendship and classroom participation.
Using Visual Supports to Enhance Understanding
Visual supports help transform spoken information into something concrete and easier to process. For those who think visually, seeing information can make language more predictable, understandable and memorable.
Some examples of visual tools include:
- Daily visual schedules showing the activities planned for the day.
- Visual timers to visually indicate the passing of time .
- Choice boards that allow students to select preferred tasks or materials.
- Feelings charts to help students identify their feelings.
- “I need a break” cards for students to request time away without speaking.
Incorporating Assistive Technology in the Classroom
Assistive technology refers to tools that help students learn, communicate, participate or complete everyday tasks. These tools can range from simple resources such as communication boards to advanced digital solutions. Augmentative and alternative communication (AAC) devices, for instance, allow students to use tablets or other devices to convert words or symbols into speech.
Emerging technologies such as virtual reality (VR) are also expanding opportunities for experiential learning. VR allows educators to create controlled simulations to practice skills and explore environments safely. By reducing unpredictability and allowing students to practice at their own pace, VR provides a comfortable space for improving communication and social interactions.
Why Inclusive Communication Is an Essential Equity Approach
Recent data reveal that approximately 13,000 autistic pupils miss 4.5 months or more of school annually. About 20% of these absences occur because many schools lack the structures to support their needs. While many strategies support meaningful inclusion, embracing multiple forms of expression can help improve equity and access for neurodivergent learners.
When educators respect and integrate nonverbal communication, classrooms become more accessible both physically and culturally. Students can participate more fully in lessons, whether using a communication device to answer questions or expressing needs through a visual card. Most importantly, communication creates connection. Students who express themselves naturally can build friendships and develop a stronger sense of belonging.
An equity approach also needs to work at the system level. It’s essential to provide regular staff training on diverse communication and audit classrooms for sensory and communication access. Educators also need to set clear measures to track participation and progress.
Best Practices for a Multiexpression Classroom
Creating a classroom that supports different communication styles requires curiosity, patience and a willingness to adapt. Teachers should consider these practical strategies:
- Presume competence: Approach every student with the belief that they are capable, intelligent and have valuable ideas to share.
- Observe before interpreting: Learn each student’s communication patterns and personal ways of expressing emotions.
- Reduce sensory barriers: Create supportive spaces such as quiet areas and offer tools like noise-cancelling headphones to help students remain comfortable.
- Prioritise connection over correction: Spend one-on-one time engaging with students’ interests and concerns.
- Build a collaborative support team: Work with specialists, parents and families to create consistent strategies across different settings.
Creating a More Accessible Learning Environment
The most empowering learning environments are those that adapt alongside their students, combining human understanding with practical tools and technology. Supporting multiple forms of expression begins with recognising that communication is multilayered. Every gesture or sign represents an opportunity for connection and participation. By remaining flexible and student-centred, educators ensure every learner feels seen, heard and, most importantly, valued in the classroom.
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.
Herstory in Leadership
Written by Kiran Satti
Deputy Principal and National Curriculum Lead for Early Reading
This blog was previously published by Oasis Community Learning.
It has now been just over two years since I joined Oasis Community Learning, and I can say with certainty that I am not the same person I was when I arrived. When I first found Oasis, I was broken – I am still not sure how I found the strength to go through the interview process but reading through the blog I was asked to write for Oasis for HerStory month, I know how now. I was broken. Yet, time and time again, I understand growth comes through pain, reflection, discomfort and the difficult work of choosing to remain true to yourself.
One thing I know to be true as a woman from a global majority background, is that very little is ever simple. I was asked to write a version of my Oasis blog a few months ago for Belonging Effect, but I believe everything happens when it’s meant to. This summer has been another sh**show… Reflecting on the death of Jason Arday has made me question the idea of representation and what exactly is the purpose of it? When you’re representative of something different to the status quo, why is your life, your human life the thing that is in the balance?
We’re coming to the end of the summer and I’ve already seen too many reports about Meghan and Harry returning to the UK – and all I can see is a certain demographic of people ready and waiting with their pitchforks. What concerns and saddens me the most is whether Meghan will survive this time… have any lessons been learnt?
The fact is when we see a reimagined representation of a black man or a reimagined face of feminism, who is truly an intersectional representation of feminism… who does this trigger hate in? Why? Are you racist? Are you sexist? Are you projecting? In order for lessons to be learnt, we need to look inwards. Those that are reading this already do – you wouldn’t be in this space reading this otherwise. We know what the deep work is – many of us have had to dig deep to survive and at times dare to thrive.
If we base our assertions on the superficial, if I took the racism I have experienced at face value I would have become bitter. If I took the sexism and misogyny at face value, I would’ve lost my self respect and self worth… my peace of mind is what matters – more than anything.
Peace is a luxury in life. Peace of mind is not hard to come by when you are protected by privilege; when you do not fear for your life because of who you are; when you do not have to fight to be seen or heard as fully human; when you do not have to constantly prove yourself before you are allowed to belong.
Some don’t want you to belong – I have experienced this first hand. And when they’re seeing you blinded their privilege, being careless with your humanity isn’t something they feel guilty for. They have the privilege of not having to see you as a human – you are a threat to their status quo, to their version of success – how dare you arrive in all your worth and disrupt – unintentionally… when we’re living our values, you will disrupt those that aren’t living through values or ethics – and you highlight that fact.
Those who have witnessed my growth through education have often reminded me of my resilience, my determination and my kindness. Looking back, I realise I have always been a trauma-informed and trauma-responsive educator, because my own experiences have shaped how I see the world: its people, its systems and its levers of power. My traumas have not made me weaker. They have sharpened my ability to notice, to listen and to recognise humanity in others – and know what feel when I am not safe.
One pattern I have encountered, particularly when moving into leadership, is projection. At times, it can feel dehumanising: as though another person’s fear, insecurity or need for control is placed onto you until you begin to question yourself. Sometimes the intention seems to be to undermine you, to position you as difficult, or to push you out before you have had the chance to grow into your full potential – all while stifling you, tripping you up, keeping your head under water until you stop kicking… if you know, you know these feelings.
Representation matters deeply, but representation without commitment to the human being can become another kind of harm. The lesson I am taking from Jason Arday’s story is that systems rooted in patriarchy and inequality rarely make space willingly. Jason Arday was a beautiful, gifted black man – he smashed every single stereotype possible in the face of masculinity and academia.
The truth is Empowered women are not always made to feel safe; global majority women are not always truly represented; too often, they are presented as symbols while their voices, experiences and expertise are not fully valued, or at best used to further enable the status quo covering up the inequity it’s still feeding. That is why so many people learn it is safer to shrink once they “get there”. The idea of safety, that luxury of peace of mind, can feel more expensive the more successful you become.
This leaves me with a difficult question: are we selling the children we serve false hope if we do not also tell them the truth about the systems they may have to navigate? The idea and image of leadership – has it really changed? We’ve had glimmers of what could be – Jacinda Ardern, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez … yet we have Putin, Trump, Netanyahu … we have global leaders destroying Mother Earth because they’re projecting their perceived power through acts of violence and aggression… the manosphere isn’t anything new – it’s been around since misogyny planted patriarchy into the soul of every system reliant now on capitalism… AI is the new world for patriarchy to keep on flourishing, division to keep breeding and inequity to be the face of perceived progress… it’s all a bit sh** really.
Throughout my journey, I have carried words that were never mine to hold:
- You’re too small.
- You’re too pretty; if you weren’t so kind, I would not like you.
- You’re not white.
- You’re too emotional.
- You care too much.
- You’re not ready to lead English.
- You need to be more resilient.
- That’s not the normal way.
For the most part, and unfortunately, it has often been women within certain organisations and institutions who have seen me as a threat to their status quo, they exemplified the dangers of internalised misogyny in women who don’t want to see the value of another woman in the same space: I was someone to contain, question, dismiss or damage before I could reach the potential they could already see in me but would not nurture. Some encounters have been inhumane, unkind and, at times, intentionally cruel.
One person seemed to believe her race made her better than me. Another was threatened by what I could become and made it clear she was not there to enable me, but to try to destroy me. One deeply hurt me. One did break me.
When you are not seen as a human being, it is a feeling you recognise. I have known it since I was little. When the world sees you as something less than fully human because you’re a girl, you learn that only you (and your mum’s tenacity) can plant the seeds of your worth. Only you can keep returning to yourself. Only you can decide that survival is not enough, that shrinking is not safety, and that your peace is worth protecting.
Humanity is what we are. Yet it is sometimes the very thing we fail to recognise in one another. My journey of leadership and growth has taught me that using my voice is not disruption, choosing peace is not weakness, and being true to myself is not optional. It is the foundation of the leader I am still becoming. I never took a child’s feeling of worth and safety for granted when I taught them – I made it very clear to them they were to question me, disagree with me and feel safe to take those risks to enable them to surpass their idea of their own success – and they did. I truly hope, in the age of AI, they are still thinking critically and challenging. As leaders, we should already be questioning, we should already be able to disagree, to challenge… based on our understanding of ourselves and what we think – and that sometimes means you’re going to disagree with yourself if you’re intention is to learn and understand – it doesn’t mean we deny the humanity in each other.
As we’re moving into another academic year, I am hoping we do not witness another gifted human, who is representative of the re-imagined, lose her power, break and fall. Meghan is one of the role models we look at as part of our Building on Barbie leadership work… and that is another hope… I hope we stop recycling the same argument about the commodification of feminism and only seeing the Barbie doll through the male gaze… look beyond the superficial to what the doll is meant to represent – a woman’s body is a woman’s body – it is hers to make the her life choices from… when you contextualise that with the fact that women’s body were not legally part of any medical research, that marital rape was legal until 1993…. Barbie’s silhouette is a challenge to the patriarchy, it’s a call to arms… in some ways, it was a political statement undermining the power of patriarchy and its influence on gender politics… in the 1950’s… the era of the original ‘trad-wife’ – if you look at the timing of the trad wife trend … it’s a reaction to the Barbie movie dissecting gendered assertions.
Caroline Flack. Jason Arday. Amy Winehouse…
I truly hope lessons have been learnt and we take care – we take care and see the human before we feel privileged enough to make comments.
I am starting to see my traumas and lived experience as a gift – the spectrum of human behaviour can be measured in degrees of cruelty and degrees of kindness, motive, perception, and environment all feed into how we choose to behave towards each other.
I’ve had men tell me I shine too bright – one tried to break me, but it’s been the women who have been relentless in their determination to trip me up, belittle me – try and diminish my talent and undermine my professional worth by finding things to pick on…
But I believe everything happens for a reason – I hope Jason Arday’s death does bring change, accountability and CARE.
Reflecting on my two years at Oasis, and navigating certain things this summer, I am grateful for the special, serendipitous moments have manifested. Some becoming forever moments like the my WomenEd chapter coming to life through the Building on Barbie Leadership Project – for now, I feel safe, I feel I am valued and I do feel I belong…
Intersectional Feminism – this is where hope resides.
The Hidden Curriculum of Belonging
Written by Lorraine Kara
Early Years consultant, author and founder of Belonging in Practice. Leadership, Culture, Inclusion, Belonging.
Every nursery and school has two curriculums.
The first is the one we carefully plan.
The second is the one children experience.
The second curriculum is often the most powerful.
Children are constantly learning – not only through the activities we prepare, but through the relationships they observe, the words they hear and the way adults respond when emotions run high.
This is the hidden curriculum of belonging.
A reflection from practice
Recently, I witnessed an interaction at a school that stayed with me. A child was visibly distressed and crying while an adult, who also appeared emotionally overwhelmed, responded in a raised and angry tone. Other adults stepped in to help calm the situation.
As I watched, I found myself thinking less about behaviour management and more about what the child might have been learning in that moment.
Not mathematics. Not phonics. Not literacy.
Instead, perhaps the child was learning: “When I am overwhelmed, adults become overwhelmed too.” Or: “My feelings are too much.” Or even: “When I struggle, I may be publicly corrected rather than helped.”
None of those messages may have been intended. But intention and impact are not always the same. The experience a child has in a difficult moment can become part of the hidden curriculum they carry with them.
The curriculum we never write down
Children notice far more than the content of our planning. They notice how adults speak to one another, how mistakes are handled, whose voice is listened to, whether differences are respected and whether emotions are met with curiosity or punishment.
No curriculum document includes a learning intention that says, “Children will learn whether adults lose control.” Yet children learn this every day.
They also learn whether adults apologise, whether relationships can be repaired, whether behaviour is treated as communication and whether they remain worthy of care when they are having a difficult moment.
This is why the hidden curriculum matters. It quietly teaches children what power looks like, what safety feels like and whether belonging is conditional.
Belonging is experienced through relationships
Early childhood development is profoundly relational. Bronfenbrenner’s ecological view of development reminds us that children grow within interconnected systems of relationships and environments. Gerhardt’s work similarly draws attention to the importance of early relational experiences for emotional development.
When adults remain calm enough to help children regulate, children gradually learn that difficult feelings can be survived. When adults model empathy, children experience empathy. When adults repair after a rupture, children learn that relationships can be restored.
Belonging is therefore not created by a display board alone. It is experienced when a child discovers: “Even when I struggle, I still have a place here.”
What does this mean for educators?
The hidden curriculum invites us to look beyond what we planned and ask what children actually experienced.
- What did my tone communicate?
- Did my response preserve the child’s dignity?
- Was I regulated enough to help the child regulate?
- Did I respond to behaviour only, or did I remain curious about what might be underneath it?
- If I got it wrong, did I repair the relationship?
This does not mean educators must be perfect. Early Years work is emotionally demanding and adults will have difficult moments too. It does mean that reflective practice must include the adult’s emotional state, not only the child’s behaviour.
The leadership responsibility
This is also a leadership issue. If staff are expected to co-regulate children, they need cultures that support their own regulation and reflection.
Leaders can strengthen this by creating psychologically safe supervision, modelling calm responses, allowing staff to ask for help, discussing difficult interactions without humiliation and treating repair as part of professional practice rather than evidence of failure.
The culture adults experience becomes part of the culture children experience. In that sense, workforce wellbeing, leadership behaviour and children’s belonging cannot be separated.
Reflection questions
- What are children learning from the way adults respond when things go wrong?
- Who receives patience in our setting – and who receives correction?
- Do our behaviour approaches preserve children’s dignity?
- Do staff feel safe enough to say, ‘I did not handle that well’?
- What do our routines, relationships and reactions teach children about who belongs?
Read, reflect and act
This week, observe one interaction rather than one activity.
Ask yourself: What was the child learning about themselves, about adults and about belonging in that moment?
Sometimes the most important lesson was never written on the planning sheet.
Final reflection
Belonging is not only built in our easiest moments. It is revealed in our hardest ones.
Children may forget the activity we planned, but they can remember how an adult made them feel. Our responsibility is not to offer perfection. It is to keep reflecting, repairing and creating environments where children feel emotionally safe, seen and valued.
Perhaps the most powerful curriculum we offer children is not simply what we teach, but who we are while we are teaching it.
References
Bronfenbrenner, U. (1979) The Ecology of Human Development: Experiments by Nature and Design. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Edmondson, A.C. (2019) The Fearless Organization: Creating Psychological Safety in the Workplace for Learning, Innovation, and Growth. Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley & Sons.
Gerhardt, S. (2015) Why Love Matters: How Affection Shapes a Baby’s Brain. 2nd edn. London: Routledge.
National Scientific Council on the Developing Child (2004/2020) Young Children Develop in an Environment of Relationships. Working Paper No. 1. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University.
Rinaldi, C. (2006) In Dialogue with Reggio Emilia: Listening, Researching and Learning. London: Routledge.
Siegel, D.J. and Bryson, T.P. (2011) The Whole-Brain Child. London: Constable & Robinson.
Inclusion Bases and Peer Support: Building Belonging for Every Child
Written by Liz Robson-Kelly
Educator, Positive and Organisational Psychologist, leading expert on Positive Education in the UK.
Inclusion bases give pupils who experience barriers to learning access to targeted support without losing their place in the wider school community. Yet many leaders find that specialist provision is only half the story. Whether it works depends just as much on the culture around it – a culture built on belonging.
Why Pupil Voice Matters
Inclusion is not something you do to pupils. It is something you build with them.
Pupils know where they feel safe and where they do not. They know which corridors feel overwhelming, which transitions cause anxiety, and which spaces feel welcoming. When you ask and genuinely listen, you learn about the real barriers to learning rather than the ones adults assume exist.
The Department for Education’s guidance on inclusion bases reinforces this, listing child, young person, and parent and carer voice among the quality-assurance sources a base should draw on each year. Pupil voice is not a nice extra. It is expected practice.
Crucially, pupil voice does not replace specialist teaching, therapeutic input, or SENCo oversight. It strengthens the whole-school culture that surrounds your specialist provision. Think of it as the soil, not the plant.
How Peer-Led Programmes Build Belonging
At Worth-it, we believe that belonging is one of the most powerful protective factors for young people’s mental health. Our programmes are rooted in positive psychology and designed to nurture a deep sense of school belonging that shapes identity, safety, and long-term wellbeing. When young people truly feel they belong, engagement, attendance, and positive behaviour naturally follow.
Peer support helps by:
- Reducing isolation and normalising conversations about wellbeing
- Creating low-barrier routes into help
- Modelling kindness and inclusion across year groups
- Building confidence and leadership in the pupils who take part
This matters enormously for an inclusion base. The DfE guidance is explicit that schools must guard against making pupils who use the base feel less valued than their mainstream peers. A strong peer-led culture is one of the most powerful ways to prevent that.
Peer Support in Practice
At Rainey Endowed School in Northern Ireland, trained student ambassadors set up a lunchtime Wellbeing Club. Autistic and SEN pupils in particular benefited from a calm, consistent space during what can otherwise be an overwhelming part of the day.
Many of the 200 schools we have worked with have paired Year 7 forms with trained ambassadors, run reverse integration through shared clubs, and produced pupil-authored welcome packs for children joining a base. Most schools run sustainable peer-led programmes with just two trained staff and a cohort of motivated students.
Evidencing What Inspectors Look For
This work helps you evidence exactly what the DfE and Ofsted are looking for. Ofsted inspects the base as part of the whole school, examining whether pupils feel welcome, valued, and part of the community.
Keep simple records of your peer-led activity. Buddy pairings, drop-in numbers, and feedback sessions all count. A shared spreadsheet is enough to demonstrate impact rather than just describe it.
Start Small
An effective base needs specialist teaching and clear SENCo oversight at its core. But they cannot succeed in isolation. What makes a base thrive is the culture around it, and that culture is built through belonging.
The schools that do this well all started with something small. A lunchtime club. A buddy pairing. A group of trained students with a clear brief. You do not need to do everything at once. You just need to start.
Worth-it Positive Education has three practical next steps to help you move forward:
- Download the free Peer Support for Schools Info Pack to see how peer support maps onto Ofsted expectations
- Use the Wellbeing and Inclusion Planning Tool to identify your school’s priority pathway in under five minutes
- Find out more about the Wellbeing Ambassadors programme and how it helps schools build a sustainable, pupil-led culture of belonging from within
The rise of ‘Universal design for learning’ – Why every Further Education provider is talking about UDL
Written by Sarah Vickrage
Sarah Vickrage is a Teaching and Inclusion Specialist at the Fellowship of Inspection Nominees, supporting Further Education providers to embed meaningful inclusive practice.
For years, Universal Design for Learning (UDL) has often been viewed as something “nice to have” or an approach championed by SEND specialists. Today, that is changing. Across the further education sector, UDL is moving from the margins into the mainstream as a practical framework for improving teaching quality, supporting inclusion and helping every learner achieve.
Growing interest in UDL also aligns with the direction of travel set out in the Department for Education’s proposed SEND reforms under Universal Support. While the reforms cover the whole education system, they place a strong emphasis on creating a more inclusive mainstream experience, improving consistency of support and reducing barriers to participation. For further education providers, this reinforces a shift away from relying solely on individual interventions and towards designing learning environments that are accessible from the outset, with the assumption that learner variability is entirely normal. UDL provides a practical framework for achieving this: embedding inclusive practice into everyday teaching while continuing to offer targeted support where it is needed most.
Individual reasonable adjustments remain an essential part of high-quality education provision. However, they often rely on diagnosis, disclosure or referral and can also unintentionally create delays or reinforce the idea that some learners are exceptions to the norm.
Why now?
Several factors are bringing UDL into sharper focus across FE. Firstly, colleges are seeing increasingly diverse learner cohorts. We are still seeing the children of the Covid-19 pandemic move into the workplace, and while the pandemic did not create the need for UDL, it highlighted many issues UDL seeks to address. Alongside growing awareness of neurodiversity, there is greater recognition of differences in language, literacy, mental health, disability, prior educational experiences and life circumstances.
Secondly, inclusion is increasingly recognised as an organisational responsibility rather than solely the responsibility of learning support teams. It needs to be embedded into every decision, strategy and policy.
Finally, expectations around quality teaching continue to evolve. Inclusive practice is no longer viewed as an optional enhancement but as a hallmark of effective teaching and learning. For many providers, UDL offers a practical way of bringing these priorities together.
What does UDL look like in practice?
One of the biggest misconceptions is that UDL requires teachers to produce multiple versions of every lesson. When I think back to my first years in teaching where we were expected to make 3 versions of the same worksheet and know exactly who would be working on each sheet before the start of the lesson it makes my toes curl.
Most UDL strategies are simple changes that improve learning for everyone. Many educators are already using these approaches. UDL simply provides a framework for making them intentional and consistent.
Good for everyone, not just some
One of the strengths of UDL is that it avoids creating a divide between “supported learners” and everyone else.
For example, when a learner with ADHD frequently asks for instructions to be repeated, they can be viewed as needing extra support. However, providing instructions verbally, visually and in written form benefits everyone, including learners with anxiety, language differences or those balancing education with other responsibilities.
Clear visual organisation may support an autistic learner, while also reducing cognitive load for someone learning in a second language. Captions on videos help learners with hearing impairments, but they are equally valuable in noisy environments or for learners revising independently.
A strategic opportunity for FE
As providers continue to strengthen their approach to inclusion, UDL offers more than a collection of teaching strategies. It provides a common language that can connect curriculum design, staff development, learner support and quality improvement, ensuring we are all on the same page with the same high standards.
For providers looking to reflect on their current practice, the Fellowship of Inspection Nominees’ inclusion resources provide a useful framework for exploring how effectively inclusion is embedded across the organisation, from leadership decisions through to classroom practice.
Looking ahead
Universal Design for Learning is unlikely to remain a specialist concept for much longer. As FE providers continue to reflect on curriculum quality, teaching and learner experience, UDL provides an opportunity to move beyond asking whether individual learners are being supported and towards asking whether the learning environment itself is designed to enable success.
The most inclusive providers will be those that see accessibility not as something added when a need is identified, but as a fundamental part of high-quality education.
The conversation about UDL has started. The opportunity now is to move from discussion to action, embedding inclusive design into everyday practice so every learner has the opportunity to participate, progress and achieve.
Ask yourself, are you designing education around the barriers the learners face, or are you designing education that removed those barriers in the first place?
What Do I Say Right Now?
Written by Orla McKeating
Entrepreneur, coach and motivational speaker
“My parents told me to cross the road when I see a Black or Brown man.” “Can I say the word ‘Black’?” “I don’t think immigrants should come here.” “That’s gay.”
These are conversations I have heard over the last five years through my work with Still I Rise Voices. And increasingly, I hear another question underneath all of them:
“What do I say right now?”
Because our children are growing up in a world where conversations about race, migration, identity, gender, disability, culture and belonging are everywhere. They hear things at home. They see things online. They hear conversations in the playground. They absorb the language of adults around them. And sometimes they bring all of that into the classroom.
For teachers and educators, this can feel like a lot.
You are already carrying enormous responsibility. You are supporting children academically, emotionally and socially, often while navigating significant workload pressures.
The 2025 NASUWT Big Question Survey, which included more than 10,000 teachers across the UK, found that almost half of teachers – 48% – reported a substantial increase in workload over the previous year. Teachers reported working an average of 47 hours a week, including around 12 hours outside the school day.
And in England, the picture is similarly difficult. Research commissioned by the Department for Education found that only 17% of teachers and leaders agreed that they had an acceptable workload in 2023.
So, when we talk about creating inclusive classrooms, we may need to acknowledge something important. Teachers cannot be expected to know everything. They cannot be expected to have all the language. All the answers. All the cultural knowledge. All the confidence. And all the time. That doesn’t mean these conversations aren’t important.
It means we need to give educators the tools and support to have them well.
The Context is Changing
In Northern Ireland especially, the need for these conversations is not theoretical. Our classrooms are changing alongside our communities, and the wider environment children are growing up in matters.
The PSNI recorded 2,260 race-motivated incidents and 1,430 race-motivated crimes during 2025 – the highest 12-month level recorded since this data series began in 2004/05.
The figures don’t tell us what every child is experiencing but they do tell us something about the environment around us.
And educators are often the adults who are expected to help children make sense of that environment. They may be the person a child turns to after hearing something racist. The person who notices that a child has stopped participating. The person who needs to challenge a stereotype without humiliating the child who repeated it. The person trying to support a child who feels different. The person wondering:
“Is this the right language?”
“Should I challenge this?”
“What if I make it worse?”
“What if a parent complains?”
“What if I don’t know enough?”
These questions don’t make you a bad educator. They make you human. We need to move away from fear
One of the things I have learned through working with more than 10,000 children and young people across Ireland and the UK is that the most powerful conversations don’t usually begin with having the perfect answer.
They begin with curiosity.
I have seen a Global Majority girl jump up when she recognised someone who looked like her in a book. Her whole face lit up. “She’s like me!”
I’ve seen a child proudly share parts of their culture with classmates after seeing a character wearing a hijab. I’ve heard teenagers express views about immigration that are uncomfortable to hear. I’ve heard children say, “That’s gay,” followed by laughter.
And these moments matter. Not because every child has suddenly become perfectly inclusive. But because we have an opportunity to pause. To ask:
Why do you think that?
Where did you hear that?
How might that make someone feel?
Is that actually true?
What could we say instead?
That is where learning happens. Not through shame. Not through humiliation. Not through pretending difficult things aren’t being said. But through conversation. Inclusion isn’t about having the perfect words.
I used to think change came through fighting. I fought hard for my mixed-race son and what he experienced in school. I fought against systems. I fought against language.
But over time, I realised that there is another kind of work. The quieter work. The work of sitting together. Listening. Learning about our own biases. Understanding where someone is starting from. Having the conversation. Asking another question. Sharing another story. Changing one word. Opening one book. Helping one child feel seen. Because sometimes one moment can change how a child understands the world. And sometimes one moment can change how an adult understands a child.
So, What Do I Say Right Now?
That is exactly why I created “What Do I Say Right Now?”
It is a practical resource for teachers, educators, parents and anyone who wants to feel more confident navigating difficult conversations around inclusion.
Because sometimes we don’t need another lecture. We need somewhere to start. We need language. We need prompts. We need reassurance. We need to know that we are allowed to say: “I’m not sure, but let’s explore that together.”
There is something beautiful about correcting something without shaming a child. We can start to understand that having a conversation about race does not have to mean having the perfect vocabulary.
And we need somewhere to keep learning.
That is what I want to create through The Inclusion Lab – a hybrid learning platform and trusted space for educators and people who care about creating more inclusive environments to keep learning, asking questions and building confidence.
Because inclusion isn’t a one-off training session. It isn’t a tick box. And it certainly isn’t about getting everything right all the time. It is a practice. A conversation. A commitment. Little by little. Word by word. Story by story.
So, if you have ever found yourself thinking:
What do I say right now?
I’ve created something to help. Download your free copy of “What Do I Say Right Now?” and start with one conversation.
Because language changes things. Connection changes things. Stories change things. Voices change the world. Still We Rise.
Can Omission Teach as Loudly as Words Complete
Written by Glenda Obeng
Glenda Obeng is a published author and multifaceted educator with a legal background and a law and politics specialism, serving as Teacher of Social Sciences and Citizenship Curriculum Lead. She is Founder and CEO of The Artourney, which produces multimedia resources praised for illuminating Black, African and Caribbean communities and sparking conversations about identity, belonging and civic agency.
A persistent label in compulsory education is that Black history belongs to a single month. In the UK, Black History Month (BHM) falls in October after Akyaaba Addai-Sebo helped establish it in 1987, choosing October because it aligned with the start of the academic year. BHM has value, but it becomes tokenistic when treated as the only moment Black history is meaningfully explored. Slavery, racism and oppression are important histories, yet when they dominate the narrative, they create a narrow lens and deny pupils the opportunity to understand the full breadth of Black identities, achievements and cultural contributions.
While teaching international relations, in a debate preparation task Person A, a pupil of mixed heritage assigned Egypt expressed surprise to learn it is in Africa. Pupils rarely learn the vast cultures of Africa or the diverse histories and traditions of the Caribbean during formative years. These topics may appear later in further or higher education, but that is neither guaranteed nor equitable. We must move beyond monolithic education and ask, what futures do we limit when we teach only a fraction of the truth?
This concern has historical context. The Swann Report (1985) highlighted systemic barriers faced by ethnic-minority pupils, while the Educationally Subnormal (ESN) scandal of the 1960s–70s showed how Black children were disproportionately removed from mainstream schools and labelled ‘educationally subnormal’. They were steered into narrow practical training instead of a full academic curriculum, leaving many without recognised qualifications and facing long-term barriers to employment and social mobility. There has been progress, ESN schools were closed, equality duties were introduced, and curricula have slowly broadened. Yet a debate in the UK Parliament marking the 40th anniversary of the Swann Report in March 2025 made clear that unequal outcomes and exclusionary practices persist, so reform has not yet translated into equal opportunities for all pupils.
Some may argue that the UK’s White majority reduces the need for racially diverse education. The 2021 Census for England and Wales show those identifying as White British fell from 80.5% to 74.4%; an ageing population and low birth rates mean future growth will likely depend on net migration, so classrooms will only become more diverse as noticeable emigration from the UK continues to rise. Schools should teach cultural literacy and adopt inclusive practices so pupils can navigate shifting cultural environments. Person B, a pupil of North-East African heritage, once asked when I was going to “get my hair done” as I walked through the corridor with my natural 4C afro. I told them, “I do not need to conform to Eurocentric beauty standards to be professional”. Their question was not malicious; it reflected a message many internalise about beauty when navigating an environment as a minority.
Blanket acronyms like ‘BAME’ or ‘BIPOC’, though pragmatic for policy monitoring to some, flatten distinct communities with different histories and needs. If we criticise monolithic curricula, we must also reject monolithic labels. In March 2026 the United Nations General Assembly adopted resolution A/RES/80/250 declaring the trafficking of enslaved Africans and the radicalised chattel enslavement of Africans ‘the gravest crime against humanity’, affirming the need for justice, dignity and healing. Reparations must include educational measures; a truthful curriculum should foster understanding rather than hierarchy. That curriculum must also address everyday signals of belonging.
School rules that label natural or protective hairstyles as ‘extreme’ or ‘unprofessional’ undermine pupils’ confidence and force conformity to Eurocentric norms. Person C, a pupil who habitually used gel to flatten their hair or wore a straight-haired wig, often appeared less confident when their natural hair was out. When I complimented their natural hair, they replied, “don’t, it’s messy”.
Racial literacy should link histories of the Global Majority and Global Minority, recognising power, population and historical context, decentre Eurocentric narratives, and pair sustained, age-appropriate teaching with media literacy so pupils can separate fact from fiction and resist online radicalisation. Person D, a white English young person, said ‘it was not entirely their fault they knew little about other races because they lived in an area where most people look like them and their school did not teach much about race’. Person E, a light-complexion mixed-heritage young person, discussed chemically straightening their hair ‘to pass’ as White. When young people rarely see their cultures, histories or physical features reflected in the curriculum, those who are different often feel pressured to flatten or minimise their identity in public rather than feel proud of who they are and where they come from.
Implementing these insights requires curriculum change, teacher reflexivity, revised policies and supported spaces for complex identities. Schools that treat cultural knowledge as an asset rather than a deficit will improve belonging, attainment and the long-term resilience of all pupils. If education shapes who we become, can we justify teaching anything less than the whole story?
Curriculum is Never Neutral
Written by Shilpa Darbar
With over a decade of experience as Head of History, Shilpa’s experience extends beyond classroom instruction to strategic leadership in curriculum development. She has reshaped the History curriculum to promote diversity and inclusiveness, a mission echoed in her published work with Impact and on her Substack. Her expertise in public speaking aids in advocating for educational innovation and elevating varied perspectives.
After sixteen years in education, I’ve realised that the most valuable professional learning hasn’t come from courses or conferences. It’s come from conversations with colleagues, moments of reflection after lessons, and the experiences that have quietly reshaped how I think about teaching, curriculum and leadership.
Those experiences are why I’m starting this newsletter.
Over the years, I’ve collected questions, ideas, successes, mistakes and moments that have challenged my thinking. This is a space to explore them. I’ll be writing about curriculum, middle leadership, diversity and inclusion in education, and the realities of trying to lead meaningful change in schools. I certainly don’t have all the answers—but I do have plenty of questions that I think are worth asking.
Looking back, my journey from NQT to Head of History has been shaped by a series of opportunities that stretched me well beyond my comfort zone.
In my very first year of teaching, I was given the chance to help develop a new Current Affairs programme for Key Stage 3. It was designed to improve pupils’ understanding of the world around them, and although it felt like a daunting responsibility at the time, those lessons quickly became my favourite part of the week.
I loved the challenge of taking complex global issues and transforming them into lessons that encouraged curiosity, discussion and critical thinking. More than anything, I remember my students’ reactions. They were often shocked by the injustice, conflict and inequality they encountered in the news. Their innocence and incredulity at the actions of so-called “grown-ups” was both heart-breaking and deeply hopeful.
In those moments, I found myself thinking: if they respond with such disbelief to the world’s problems, perhaps they will grow up to do better than the generations before them.
Looking back now, I can see that those lessons changed something in me as much as they did my students.
I had trained to teach History, but I was beginning to realise that the most important questions in education often sit beyond the boundaries of any one subject. How do we help young people make sense of the world? How do we nurture curiosity alongside knowledge? How do we prepare students not just to pass exams, but to participate thoughtfully in society?
Without realising it, this was the first of many moments that would shape my philosophy of education. It pushed me towards thinking about educating the whole child—not just through my beloved subject of History, but through every opportunity we have to develop thoughtful, informed and compassionate young people.
Not long afterwards, I also took on the role of Debating Coordinator. Once again, I found myself drawn to work that extended beyond my subject specialism. I wanted students to become confident speakers who could listen carefully, challenge ideas respectfully and build arguments based on evidence rather than opinion. Watching students discover their voice—sometimes literally—reinforced my growing belief that education is about far more than examination results.
As my career progressed into middle leadership, the questions evolved. I became just as interested in leading people as leading curriculum. How do you bring colleagues with you when introducing change? How do you build a department culture where everyone feels valued and challenged? How do you make decisions that are both strategically sound and deeply human?
These are the questions that continue to occupy my thinking today.
My Substack newsletter is my place to think out loud. I’ll share reflections from my own classroom and department, practical ideas that have worked (and those that haven’t), thoughts on curriculum and diversity, and lessons I’ve learnt through leading others. Some posts will be practical, others more reflective, but all will be rooted in the belief that education is ultimately about helping young people flourish.
If you’re a teacher, middle leader, curriculum enthusiast or simply someone who enjoys thinking deeply about education, I hope you’ll find something here that resonates.
What start of term rituals and routines can educators create in our classrooms to centre student belonging?
Written by Hannah Wilson
Founder and Director of the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators).
Belonging is what students feel. Mattering is what students believe about their value to others.
A student can feel accepted but still wonder whether anyone would notice if they were absent.
True inclusion is when students know:
- I am welcome here.
- I am known here.
- I am valued here.
- I contribute here.
- I make a difference here.
So as we plan to set up our new classrooms and meet our new students at the start of a new academic year, what should we be intentionally planning and consciously considering to ensure that we centre belonging and mattering at the heart of our learning environments?
Theme 1: Look from the outside in
The most powerful question educators can ask at the start of the academic year is not “What do I want my classroom to be?” but “What does it feel like to be a student walking into this classroom for the very first time?”
Belonging begins with perspective-taking. For some learners, the first day is exciting. For others, it is filled with uncertainty, anxiety or the question, “Will I fit in here?” Looking from the outside in encourages educators to notice the small moments that communicate whether students are welcome, valued and safe before a single lesson begins.
Theme 2: Safety creates the conditions for growth
Students bring with them the seeds of who they are – their strengths, hopes, identities and experiences. The role of the school is to cultivate those seeds.
This means creating an environment where students feel physically, psychologically and emotionally safe. It is about setting clear expectations alongside compassionate relationships. Like a safety net beneath a tightrope, boundaries do not restrict students; they give them the confidence to explore, take risks, make mistakes and discover who they are becoming.
When students know they will be supported if they stumble, they are far more willing to participate, lead, question and learn.
Theme 3: Belonging grows through contribution
Belonging is not something educators simply give to students. It develops when students have meaningful opportunities to shape their community.
Leadership roles, student voice, peer mentoring, classroom responsibilities and collaborative decision-making all communicate a powerful message:
“You are not just part of this school – you help make this school what it is.”
Feeling heard is just as important as being listened to.
Theme 4: Students need to see themselves
Creating belonging is also about what students encounter every day through the curriculum.
The books on the shelves, the scientists, authors and historians studied, the case studies, examples, photographs and research all send messages about who matters.
When diversity is woven naturally throughout learning – not reserved for awareness days or special events – it communicates that different ethnicities, religions, family structures, genders, abilities and lived experiences are an ordinary and valued part of society.
Representation tells students: “People like me belong here too.”
Theme 5: Know the learner behind the learner
Relationships remain the foundation of belonging.
Learn names and pronounce them correctly. Show genuine curiosity about students beyond their attainment or behaviour. Ask about their interests, aspirations, cultures and lived experiences – and keep asking.
Students quickly recognise the difference between being known and simply being managed.
When educators remain interested throughout the year, they communicate one of the strongest messages of mattering:
“I see you, and you matter to me.”
Theme 6: Build belonging together
One practical way to establish this culture from day one is to create a class agreement or class contract collaboratively.
Rather than presenting a list of rules, invite students to explore questions such as:
- How do we want everyone to feel in this classroom?
- What helps us learn best?
- What behaviours create belonging?
- How will we respond when mistakes happen?
- What responsibilities do we all share?
Co-creating expectations fosters ownership, accountability and mutual respect from the outset.
Final Thoughts
Perhaps the greatest gift educators can give at the beginning of the academic year is not a perfectly organised classroom or an engaging first lesson – it is the certainty that every student belongs and matters.
Belonging does not happen by chance. Mattering is not left to luck. They are cultivated through thousands of intentional moments: a smile at the classroom door, a correctly pronounced name, a curriculum that reflects the richness of our communities, an invitation to contribute, a conversation that says: “Tell me about you.”
Students flourish in environments where they feel safe enough to be themselves, valued enough to contribute, and supported enough to grow. Every interaction, every curriculum choice, every relationship and every opportunity for student voice helps create that culture.
The question is not simply: “Do our students belong?”
The more important question is: “What are we intentionally doing every day to ensure every student knows they belong – and that they matter?”
Recommended Reading:
If you would like to explore the evidence behind belonging and mattering in greater depth, these are two excellent places to start:
- Professor Kelly-Ann Allen’s articles on school belonging
- Gordon Neufeld: The First Week of School – Creating Connections and Emotional Safety