Understanding Why Mattering Matters for Black Teachers: A Qualitative Approach to Understanding Black Teacher Mattering
Written by Tara Elie
Tara Elie teacher, psychologist, lecturer and coach. Tara has diverse experience in education and Learning and Development spanning over decades. She is renowned for her engaging training delivery, both face-to-face and virtually. Her performance background, alongside her passion for supporting individuals and organisations to flourish and thrive, characterise her delivery style. Tara has completed research on Black Teacher Mattering which she is delivering in keynotes. She is passionate about teacher wellbeing and uses the theories of Positive Psychology to inform her work with all clients with a proven record of success. Tara stands for social justice and social change. She appreciates and celebrates the individual, their differing backgrounds, cultures, experiences, perceptions, and values.
In my study, I set out to understand how Black teachers in London experience mattering in their professional lives. Because there is limited UK-based research in this area, I chose a qualitative methodology. My focus was not on measuring experience, but on understanding meaning, interpretation, and lived reality.
I was drawn to qualitative research because it allows for depth and nuance when exploring complex social and psychological experiences (Hill et al., 1997).
It quickly became clear to me that Black teachers’ experiences are not uniform. They are shaped by intersecting factors such as race, gender, school context, and role. A quantitative approach would not capture this complexity, particularly in relation to more subtle or systemic experiences such as microaggressions or colourism (Holt, 1976).
Key Themes
From the analysis, three overarching themes emerged: Representation, Racism, and Reinforcement, supported by ten sub-themes. What stood out most strongly for me throughout the data was a persistent tension between visibility and value.
Many participants described being highly visible as Black teachers, yet not always feeling equally valued or recognised within their professional environments.
Representation
One of the strongest themes for me was representation. Participants often linked their sense of mattering to their visibility as Black teachers in schools and wider society. Many expressed pride in their role and recognised the importance of representation for Black students’ identity, confidence, and aspirations.
Several participants described themselves as role models. This was not framed as symbolic, but as deeply meaningful. They saw their presence as shaping what Black students believed was possible for them, and this gave their work a strong sense of purpose.
Authenticity also came through strongly. Participants described feeling most valued when they could bring their “whole self” to work — including aspects of culture, identity, and communication style. When they felt able to do this, their sense of belonging and mattering increased. When they felt they had to suppress parts of themselves, that sense often diminished.
Voice was another key element. I was particularly struck by how powerful it was when participants felt genuinely heard by leadership. For some, this was a turning point after long periods of feeling overlooked. Being listened to — and seeing that listening lead to action — was often described as affirming their professional worth.
Racism
Racism emerged as the most dominant and consistently experienced theme across all interviews. Participants described a wide spectrum of experiences, from subtle microaggressions to overt racism involving both colleagues and students.
A recurring issue was racialised stereotyping, particularly being labelled “aggressive” when expressing themselves assertively. Many participants described this as “tone policing”, where their professional communication was questioned or reframed in racialised terms. This had a clear impact on confidence and professional freedom.
Workload and expectation also featured strongly. Several participants felt they were expected to work harder than white colleagues to achieve the same recognition. Some linked this directly to inequities in pay, progression, and informal responsibility within schools.
Access to leadership was another key issue. Participants often felt that promotion pathways were less accessible to them, shaped by informal networks and organisational culture rather than transparent processes.
I was also struck by how often participants described being expected to take responsibility for managing behavioural issues involving Black students. This created tension between professional role expectations and racialised assumptions about identity and expertise.
Overall, racism was consistently described as undermining mattering by reducing fairness, recognition, and belonging.
Reinforcement
Alongside these challenges, participants also described powerful sources of reinforcement that strengthened their sense of mattering.
Recognition from colleagues and senior leaders was highly valued, especially when it was specific, sincere, and linked to professional contribution. In some cases, formal recognition such as pay progression was experienced as particularly meaningful, especially when explicitly connected to expertise and impact. However, what stood out most for me was the strength of student relationships.
Nearly every participant described deeply affirming experiences with pupils, including gratitude, affection, admiration, and long-term appreciation. These moments were often emotionally significant and acted as a powerful reminder of purpose.
Parents and carers also contributed to this sense of reinforcement, particularly when they actively expressed appreciation or sought out individual teachers because of their impact.
What I found particularly striking was how reinforcement and racism often coexisted. Participants could feel deeply valued in one context (for example, by students) while simultaneously feeling devalued in another (for example, by institutional structures). This created a complex and sometimes contradictory experience of mattering.
Overall, what emerged for me from this research is that mattering for Black teachers in London is not stable or uniform. It is something constantly shaped through the interaction of representation, racism, and reinforcement.
While representation and relationships can strongly enhance feelings of value and purpose, these are often disrupted by systemic and interpersonal racism that undermines fairness, recognition, and belonging.
Mattering, in this sense, is not simply about being present in schools. It is about whether Black teachers feel seen, heard, valued, and able to exist authentically within the profession they serve.
Mental Health or Mental Illness? Why Silence Speaks in Teaching
Written by Katja Pavlona
Katja Pavlovna is a teacher in alternative provision and has previously taught in specialist SEMH and prison settings. She runs the lived experience mental illness project Lives Not Labels and is co-author of the book Sorry My Mental Illness Isn't Sexy Enough For You.
There is often – rightly – a lot of talk in education about teacher wellbeing and mental health. Burnout, stress, anxiety and depression are sadly commonplace within our profession. However, something we hear far less about is teacher mental illness.
I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD, or to give it its newer name, Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder, or EUPD) in 2021. Whilst the diagnosis was both a blessing (I knew what was wrong with me) and a curse (it’s incurable, although it can go into remission and be managed), I knew deep down that there was something else going on that BPD couldn’t quite explain. That’s how I ended up with a second diagnosis in 2023 of Schizotypal Personality Disorder (STPD). Managing two different, yet serious, mental conditions is something of a challenge in itself, let alone with the added complication of working full time in a career known for the risks it poses to mental health. So, how on earth do I do it? Truth be told, it’s hard.
Whilst mental health might be a hot topic in education, mental illness certainly is not. Whilst colleagues might join in with me for a moan about how exhausted I am, I can’t imagine them having much to contribute were I to discuss my propensity towards magical thinking, odd interpretations of events, finding hidden meanings in everyday things and my visual, gustatory and olfactory illusions, which are all part of my STPD.
I am extremely fortunate to be able to manage my disorders independently, and am generally classed as low support needs- that is, I function in society as anyone ‘normal’ would, predominantly by masking my symptoms and mirroring those around me. Whilst this does have obvious advantages, it does come with some fairly significant drawbacks too.
As someone who has very high expectations of myself and prides myself on being resourceful, diligent and practically-minded, it’s fair to say that I’m seen as good- even great- at my job. How could that ever be a negative?
The problem is that because my illnesses are well managed, it’s very hard for people to conceptualise that I am actually unwell. I mask so much that my disorders are basically invisible, so it’s very easy to assume they’re not there at all. People assume I’m fine, so when things start to slip, I’m judged harshly for not being able to perform in the same way I could when I was ‘fine’.
A few years ago, I had to take some time off work. I’d been wrongly taken off all of my antipsychotic medication, which led to my psychotic-like STPD symptoms returning. Fairly obviously, I couldn’t teach in that time and was signed off. I was already stressed and anxious- work keeps me stable and grounded and I rarely take time off, so being stuck at home with no interaction or purpose was causing me to deteriorate, quickly. I was then accidentally copied into an email complaining about my absence, which only added to my feelings of guilt. I was having to plan cover lessons around psychotic episodes and hospital trips, but when I returned after two weeks when my medication was reinstated and I was cleared by Occupational Health to return, I was still subjected to snide comments about how much time I’d had off due to the culture of presenteeism. People knew I had a serious mental illness, but it was still hurtful to realise I was seen as a liability.
The thing about mental illness is that everyone claims to be fine with it, until you start showing symptoms. This is, I think, especially true for a personality disorder. I am covered under the Equality Act 2010 for both BPD and STPD, but these are often seen less as a disability and more as a conscious attempt to manipulate. I clearly recall once, whilst temping, being asked to leave the classroom after requesting time off for a psychiatric appointment. Management then interrogated the pupils as to whether they felt safe in the classroom with me. Luckily this incident was dealt with, but I’ll never forget how it made me feel to know they clearly thought I must be dangerous.
The practical side of managing a mental illness in teaching is also difficult. Attending appointments during the school day can be tricky. After I was diagnosed with an eating disorder which arose as a coping mechanism for my personality disorders, I was offered specific treatment (DBT therapy), but this was a two hour session every week for 20 weeks in a neighbouring city. At the time I was teaching in an SEMH school who were extremely understanding and rejigged my timetable to allow me to attend. I suspect many schools wouldn’t be able to be that generous.
Reasonable adjustments can be hard to navigate too. Because of my fears of contamination with food due to the STPD, one of my adjustments is to bring my own lunch to work rather than eat from the canteen. Whilst you wouldn’t think this was likely to be an issue, in one school I worked at, a senior member of staff continuously ‘reminded’ me that teachers had to eat the same food as the pupils as it set a bad example. They weren’t the kind of person I could confide in, so I ended up eating alone in my classroom.
The fact is, my mental illness is always in the back of my mind. I constantly fear another ‘episode’, although I know realistically as long as I’m looking after myself, it’s unlikely. But still I lie awake at night worrying. I am the main earner in my household. If I can’t work, we would stand to lose everything. That’s an enormous pressure to have on my shoulders. Over the course of my career, I have met several teachers with BPD in the schools I’ve worked at. As far as I am aware, I am the only one still in the profession. It’s tough.
It’s not all negative, though. My disorders have given me resilience, creativity and compassion towards others. Some of the more challenging aspects of my disorders- such as BPD impulsivity- I can channel in healthier ways through teaching. I am self-aware enough to pre-empt when symptoms may occur and manage them, and I draw on appropriate support as and when needed. Pattern recognition has been vital in helping me to be proactive in managing my disorders. I love my job, so I’m committed to doing whatever it takes to make sure I can remain in it.
It’s also been an unexpected asset in some of the settings I’ve worked in, most notably alternative provision, prison and PRUs. In recent years I’ve worked with pupils with personality disorder or conduct disorder diagnoses, and it has helped me to better understand their inner experience. I could never share my own diagnoses with them, though. The stigma around personality disorders is so intense that to do so could potentially jeopardise my career.
A few years ago I spoke to a national newspaper about my lived experience project, Lives Not Labels (www.livesnotlabels.com) and received some hateful messages from people who took issue with the fact the article mentioned my career. I was accused of being abusive, manipulative and too unstable to work with children, told I was probably only in education to make false allegations about parents to social services to have their children removed, and threatened that if they knew what school I worked at, they’d destroy my career as people like me are a danger to children, including my own. To see such attitudes on display so plainly was incredibly confronting.
In October of last year, my book Sorry My Mental Illness Isn’t Sexy Enough For You was published which detailed some of the challenges I’ve faced as a teacher with serious mental illness. Although I’ve become gradually more confident in speaking out about my experiences, for many working in education with mental illness, there is too much at stake for them to be able to do the same. It’s clear that strides forward have been made in the realms of teacher mental health, but for those of us with mental illness, resources and understanding are sorely lacking.
Here is the link to my book: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/aw/d/1805010670/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?ie=UTF8&dib_tag=se&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.eMN7CSJN8yAXZ5LF9EtaQQ.UXJCGah2s3DoEkFTDqRf2TfZOyzEcavIn2mhgstUTXI&qid=1781934392&sr=8-1
What Families of Neurodivergent Students Want Teachers to Know
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.
There is often a gap between what schools think neurodivergent students and their families need and what they actually need. Neurodivergence refers to differences in how the brain processes information and includes common conditions such as ADHD, dyslexia, autism spectrum disorder and dyspraxia. Neurodivergent children may have different day-to-day experiences at school depending on how their needs are met and understood.
While most schools may focus on formal plans and processes, parents and guardians tend to prioritise everyday understanding and clear communication. Here are some of the things that families want teachers to know and what they feel will most impact their neurodivergent child in school.
Seeing the Child Beyond the Label
Parents and carers want teachers to see neurodivergent children as individuals, rather than defining them by a diagnosis. Estimates suggest that one in seven students is neurodivergent, highlighting how common neurodivergent diagnoses are within the school population.
While diagnostic labels provide a good starting point to understand a child better, they can only describe certain traits. They don’t offer the full picture of a child’s school experience. For instance, two pupils with the same condition may have entirely different sensory profiles, communication styles and emotional needs. For this reason, educators need to remain curious and adapt their teaching methods based on ongoing observation rather than fixed assumptions.
Prioritising Acceptance
Families would want educators to go beyond awareness of a child’s condition and focus on accepting and supporting them as they are, including adjusting the environment to help them succeed. This approach often produces positive outcomes. For example, an autism centre that advocates this acceptance-based approach reports that 98% of parents observed an improvement in their child’s ability to start conversations with others.
Communicating Clearly
Families often emphasise regular, straightforward communication. Small, meaningful updates about daily experiences often matter more than formal review points. When communication is consistent across staff and settings, children are more likely to feel secure and understand expectations. Mixed messages, on the other hand, can create uncertainty and make school feel less predictable for neurodivergent learners.
Individualised education programs (IEPs) involve structured meetings that bring parents and educators together to formally map out a child’s individual support needs and learning goals. IEP meetings are a good example of how schools and families can work collaboratively to create more consistent and supportive learning environments for neurodivergent children.
Understanding Behaviour as Communication
Families understand that behaviour is often a form of communication rather than simple compliance or disruption. When a neurodivergent child becomes overwhelmed, withdrawn or reactive, there is usually an unmet need driving that response. What seems like erratic behaviour from a child with autism, for example, may reflect sensory overload or anxiety.
According to the Department for Education, 166,041 students in England are autistic, with over 70% attending mainstream schools. These figures highlight that many teachers are working with autistic pupils every day, often in classroom settings where they may encounter difficult behavioural responses linked to unmet sensory or emotional needs.
In these situations, approaches that explore the cause of behaviour, rather than focusing solely on managing the outward response, are often more effective and respectful of the child’s experience.
Providing Flexible and Responsive Support
Effective support is rarely one-size-fits-all. Adjustments that work well for one child may not suit another, even when their diagnosis is similar. What families value most is educators’ ability to adapt support in real time, depending on how the child is managing on a given day. Rather than relying on preplanned strategies, using responsive approaches for teaching neurodivergent students allows educators to recognise and meet children’s changing needs more effectively.
Creating Safe Environments for Learning
Guiding and teaching neurodivergent students successfully involves creating environments where children feel safe, understood, and supported in everyday classroom situations. Sensory needs, predictable routines and thoughtful transitions can all make a meaningful difference. For example, offering a neurodivergent child a quiet place to calm down when things get too noisy or overwhelming can help them ease back into learning.
The Right Kind of Support
What families of neurodivergent students consistently ask for is not more complexity, but greater clarity, responsiveness and understanding in school. When teachers combine professional expertise with attentiveness to lived experience, children are more likely to feel supported and able to access learning in meaningful ways.
Can We Teach That? RSE 2026 and LGBT+ Inclusive Education in Primary School
Written by Jack Lynch
Jack Lynch (they/them) is a writer, educator, and DEI specialist. As Co-Director and Workshops & Training Lead at Pop’n’Olly, they work with schools, educators, parents, and organisations across the UK to create more inclusive environments. Jack has delivered training to thousands of professionals and authored widely used resources that support good practice in diversity, equity, and inclusion in education.
“What can and can’t we teach about LGBTQ+ lives under this new RSE guidance?”
With the new Relationships and Sex Education (RSE) Guidance 2026 set to come into force in England from September, this has been one of the most common questions I’m asked when working with primary school leaders and educators, at the moment.
In our conversations with schools and educators, I am hearing two clear messages. Firstly, the language and messaging of the RSE guidance around LGBTQ+ inclusion is deeply concerning and that, alongside other consultations and revisions of legislation, it’s providing less clarity, more questions, and increased fear and division. Secondly, it’s making educators want to work even harder to ensure that every child feels like they belong.
With LGBTQ+ bullying significantly increasing and the mental wellbeing of LGBTQ+ young people at some of its lowest levels, I am working even harder to empower schools to continue to remain inclusive and show every child that they belong. After spending months scouring the legislation and working with our legal team at Pop’n’Olly to understand what the legislation does and does not say, I can say with absolute confidence that LGBTQ+ inclusive education is very possible under RSE 2026.
LGBTQ+ inclusive education at primary level is broader than simply teaching about LGBTQ+ identities. It’s about teaching children that families can look different but that all families are characterised by love and care. It’s about teaching children that we aren’t limited to speaking, behaving or dressing in certain ways because of our gender and, finally, teaching children that there are many different ways to be human. So let me break this down a little further.
Family and Relationship Diversity
This guidance calls specifically for schools to recognise that “families of many forms provide a nurturing environment for children, and can include single parent families, same-sex parents, families headed by grandparents, young carers, kinship carers, adoptive parents and foster parents/carers” and that “Teaching should illustrate a wide range of family structures in a positive way, and care should be taken to ensure that children are not stigmatised based on their home circumstances.”
This provides a clear message that teaching about family diversity should be truly representative of all families. This provides a brilliant legislative basis for this work, which is a cornerstone of inclusive education in the lower age groups of primary and is key to making sure that children from non-traditional family structures can see themselves represented. This positive representation at early ages has been shown to significantly increase the mental well-being of all children, providing them with the important messaging that, whatever their family looks like, they belong.
Tackling Stereotyping
The RSE guidance also targets stereotyping, and specifically gender stereotyping, stating that by the end of primary school pupils should know “how stereotypes can be unfair, negative, destructive or lead to bullying and how to challenge a stereotype” as well as saying that schools should “avoid language or activities which repeat or enforce gender stereotypes”.
This focus on challenging negative stereotypes already forms a key part of many schools’ inclusive curricula and is a key element of LGBTQ+ inclusive education, as we know that gender stereotypes often underpin homophobic, biphobic and transphobic bullying. When we teach about diversity, rather than binary gender stereotypes, rates of bullying based on protected characteristics are shown to decrease, which aligns perfectly with schools’ duties under the Equality Act 2010 and Public Sector Equality Duty to ‘eliminate discrimination, advance equality of opportunity and foster good relations between people who share a protected characteristic and those who do not.’
LGBTQ+ Identities
The RSE guidance section on lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender content is where the majority of the concerns we are hearing from schools lie. The section specifically states that “Pupils should also be taught the facts and the law about biological sex and gender reassignment” and that “schools should be mindful that beyond the facts and the law about biological sex and gender reassignment there is significant debate, and they should be careful not to endorse any particular view or teach it as fact”. Feedback we are hearing from schools, educators and, indeed, parents and families is that the wording here is ambiguous and lacks clarity as well as concerns about how trans and gender non-confirming pupils can be supported and included.
My intention in this article is not to tell schools how to interpret this wording, as that is not my place and every school will approach this differently based on their specific setting. However, what I can say is that at no point is this guidance saying that schools cannot teach that LGBT+ people exist. In fact, the guidance is clear that schools should teach pupils to “recognise that people with the protected characteristic of gender reassignment, as with the other protected characteristics, have protection from discrimination and should be treated with respect and dignity”.
Teaching about LGBTQ+ identities in primary can be done in a range of ways including (but not limited to) having books with positive LGBTQ+ representation, having diverse representation on display boards, not hiding someone’s LGBTQ+ identity when using role models (e.g. Alan Turing in a history lesson) as well as specific lessons that cover what LGBTQ+ means. Teaching about LGBTQ+ should always have a clear learning objective and align with the schools curriculum and values, showing clearly that LGBTQ+ topics are not an ‘add on’ or taught because of any personal agenda but have a clear educational purpose that is aligned with the guidance and legislation.
I want to be clear, the new RSE guidance and surrounding legislation does NOT mean we have to stop teaching about LGBTQ+ lives, it does NOT mean we have to stop supporting LGBTQ+ pupils. What is most important is that schools are clearer than ever before on how and why they are teaching about LGBTQ+ identities: how this aligns with their ethos, values, and educational objectives; how they are interpreting the guidance; and how LGBTQ+ education fits within their wider work on inclusion of other protected characteristics.
For more information on guidance and legislation that relates to LGBT+ education, Pop’n’Olly have recently released a ‘LGBT+ Equality Legislation: Guidance for Schools’ resource which outlines the legislation in England, Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland. This resource also provides information on what the legislation says about common areas of concern such as religious/belief conflicts and parents’ right to withdraw. You can download this for free at www.popnolly.com/free-resources
Disclaimer: This information is not a substitute for legal advice and is solely intended to support good practice by offering general information on the legal principles relevant to LGBT+ education in schools. It is the responsibility of schools to know their own legal responsibilities and independent advice should be sought where necessary.
What Happens When We Listen to Children About Peace?
Written by Jim Dees
Jim Dees is the headteacher of West Lodge Primary School. He is the co-founder of YESFest.
On 18th May, more than 70 primary-aged Young Ambassadors for Peace gathered at the House of Lords for An Experiential Peace Dialogue: Living Peace in Action. Hosted by Baroness Verma and attended by members of the House of Lords, including Lord Raval, the event brought together educators, researchers, sustainability leaders, policymakers and community partners to explore an important question: What role can peace education play in helping young people thrive in today’s world? The event brought together educators, researchers, sustainability leaders, policymakers and community partners to explore an important question: What role can peace education play in helping young people thrive in today’s world?
The Young Ambassadors for Peace (YAP) programme, organised by the Brahma Kumaris World Spiritual University UK, brings together primary school pupils to explore peace within the self, peace with others and peace with nature through reflection, dialogue, leadership and action. What stood out most was not the programme itself, but the children. Speaking about peace within the self, peace with others and peace with nature, pupils aged between nine and eleven shared their experiences with remarkable wisdom, clarity and authenticity. They spoke about self-regulation, empathy, interfaith understanding, leadership, sustainability and belonging. They led meditations, answered questions from invited guests and demonstrated that children are capable of far more than we sometimes assume.
One child explained that the programme should focus on young people “to make a better generation.” Another reminded the audience that children are capable of making a positive difference in the world today, not simply in the future.
The event reinforced a growing belief that peace education is not an optional extra. It sits alongside wider conversations around wellbeing, belonging, citizenship, sustainability and pupil agency. At a time when schools are navigating increasing complexity, there is a growing need to create opportunities for children to develop not only knowledge and skills, but also self-awareness, compassion, responsibility and a sense of connection with others and the natural world.
Perhaps most importantly, the showcase highlighted a shift that is gaining momentum across education and beyond: seeing children not as empty vessels to be filled, but as active contributors with voice, agency, insight and wisdom. When we create the conditions for children to lead, reflect and contribute, they often bring perspectives that adults can easily overlook.
Looking ahead, we are keen to strengthen the evidence base for peace education, build partnerships across sectors and communities, and connect practice, research and policy. We would particularly welcome conversations with researchers, universities, schools, charities and organisations interested in collaboration, evaluation and further development of this work.
The next stage of that journey takes place at the Young Ambassadors for Peace Festivals in Oxford (10 June), London (12 June) and Leicester (17 June), where pupils will share their learning through experiential exhibitions, presentations and performances. These events provide an opportunity not only to celebrate the achievements of the children, but also to engage in a wider conversation about the role of peace education in supporting wellbeing, belonging, citizenship, sustainability and positive social change.
Places at all three events must be booked in advance. If you would like to attend, please register at https://yapglobal.org/peacefest2026/. We would particularly welcome educators, researchers, community leaders, policymakers and potential partners who are interested in exploring how peace education can help develop more compassionate, connected and sustainable communities.
Perhaps the most powerful message from the House of Lords came from the children themselves. In a world that often underestimates young people, they reminded us that they are not simply the leaders of tomorrow, but active contributors today — capable of helping to build more compassionate, connected and hopeful futures if we are willing to listen.
Literacy matters: From Mirrors and Windows to Voice and Participation
Written by Amy Wilby
I am an experienced senior educational leader, currently serving as an Assistant Headteacher with responsibility for Curriculum, as well as a Trust-wide DEIB Champion, edublogger, and proud mum to a 21-year-old son. Since qualifying as a teacher in 2009, I have built a career rooted in both academic excellence and strong pastoral care. I bring extensive experience across middle and senior leadership, including roles as a Specialist Leader of Education (SLE) and Associate Assistant Headteacher. I hold an NPQSL and a master’s degree in educational leadership, and I am deeply committed to evidence-informed practice, drawing on educational research to enhance teaching, learning, and curriculum design.
Walk into most classrooms and you’ll see literacy everywhere, embedded in reading tasks, writing activities, and assessment criteria. It’s carefully planned, structured, and aligned to curriculum goals.
But there are deeper questions we don’t ask often enough:
- Who can actually access it, use it, and shape it, and who can’t?
- Does the ability to decode mean that students can fully understand the context?
- How can literacy build social and cultural capital?
- Does literate signal included?
In the same way that an inclusive curriculum depends on mirrors and windows, an inclusive approach to literacy depends on something equally powerful:
Access, voice, and participation.
If ‘Mirrors and Windows’ help students see, literacy determines whether they can engage, respond, and belong.
From mirrors and windows to literacy as power
The idea of mirrors and windows gives us a strong foundation:
- Mirrors: students see themselves reflected
- Windows: students understand others
But there’s a crucial next step.
Seeing is not the same as participating.
A student might recognise themselves in a text (a mirror), or learn about another perspective (a window). But without the literacy skills to interpret, question, and respond, their role remains passive.
Literacy is what turns:
- mirrors into validation
- windows into understanding
- classrooms into spaces of participation
Without literacy, inclusion risks staying at the level of representation. With it, inclusion becomes something students actively experience.
Literacy as access: who gets in?
Just as curriculum design asks whose stories are told, literacy asks:
Who can access those stories in the first place?
Who is advantaged and disadvantaged by the choices of text and the metaphorical language that is frequently used in education?
When literacy is secure:
- Students can engage with the full curriculum
- They can navigate complex texts, instructions, and ideas
- They can move confidently across subjects
- If they truly understand the text, they begin to understand the subtext, the meaning and the inference.
When it isn’t:
- The curriculum becomes partially inaccessible
- Learning is fragmented
- Students may disengage, not from lack of ability, but from lack of access and from cognitive overload!
This is where literacy builds directly from curriculum thinking. It ensures that mirrors and windows are not just present, but reachable.
Literacy as voice: who gets heard?
Mirrors validate identity, but literacy enables expression.
In an inclusive classroom, it’s not enough for students to see themselves reflected. They need opportunities to:
- articulate their thinking
- share their experiences
- challenge ideas
- contribute to discussions
This is where literacy becomes deeply connected to belonging.
Because belonging isn’t just about recognition, it’s about being heard and taken seriously.
Expanding literacy here means valuing multiple forms of communication:
- spoken language
- storytelling
- debate and discussion
- digital and visual expression
When these are embedded into classroom practice, more students find ways to participate meaningfully.
Literacy as participation: who gets to shape the learning?
Windows help students understand the world.
Literacy allows them to interact with it.
Through literacy, students:
- question what they read
- connect ideas across topics
- collaborate with others
- form and defend their own viewpoints
This shifts them from consumers of knowledge to contributors.
And this is where belonging becomes tangible.
A classroom is not inclusive because of what is displayed on the walls or listed in the curriculum. It becomes inclusive when students can actively take part in the learning experience, when they can influence it, respond to it, and see their role within it.
‘Without enough language – a word gap – a child is seriously limited in their enjoyment of school and success beyond’. (Harley, 2018, p. 2)
The risk: when literacy is overlooked
There’s a parallel here with the ‘add and stir’ approach to curriculum.
Just as representation can become tokenistic, literacy can become:
- overly focused on technical skills in isolation
- detached from meaning and purpose
- assessed more than it is lived
- Focused on written rather than oral assessment
When this happens:
- Students may decode text without truly engaging
- Writing becomes performative rather than expressive
- Participation is limited to those already confident
- Those with a word gap are continually disadvantaged, this is not inclusive; this does not increase a sense of belonging.
And again, students notice.
They can tell when literacy is something they do for school, rather than something that gives them power within it.
What this looks like in practice
Building on mirrors and windows, schools can strengthen inclusion through literacy by being equally intentional.
- Make literacy visible across the curriculum
Ask:
- Where are students reading, writing, speaking, and thinking deeply?
- Who is thriving in these moments, and who isn’t?
- Is there a large focus on extracts rather than rich and extended reading? This may feel more inclusive, however appropriately scaffolded pieces, allow all learners to build their vocabulary and feel more confident in their linguistic ability.
- Connect literacy to meaning, not just mechanics
- Use texts that matter
- Create purposeful writing opportunities
- Prioritise discussion and dialogue
- Focus on metaphorical language as well. Idioms and common metaphors, where not understood, can create a sense of isolation and ‘otherness’.
- Plan for participation, not just completion
- Build in structured talk across all subjects
- Use collaborative tasks
- Create space for multiple perspectives
- Scaffold up, don’t recue the reading to support students
- Value different starting points
- Recognise that students arrive with different literacy experiences
- Scaffold without limiting
- Maintain high expectations with appropriate support
- Keep student voice central
Just as with curriculum:
- Do students feel confident contributing?
- Do they feel listened to?
- What helps them engage—and what holds them back?
Expanding inclusion beyond representation
Mirrors and windows ensure that students can see.
Literacy ensures that they can:
- access what they see
- respond to it
- participate in shaping it
Without literacy, inclusion can remain symbolic.
With literacy, it becomes functional, lived, and sustained.
What you can do tomorrow
To build on your work around mirrors and windows:
- Review a lesson or scheme and ask: Where is the literacy demand here? Who might struggle to access it?
- Add one structured opportunity for student voice (discussion, reflection, or debate)
- Adapt a task so students are not just reading, but responding, making inferences, questioning, or creating. Do this in a subject other than English or the Humanities.
- Plan which common idioms can be used in different units, this may feel outdated, however they are often used in History, English and other GCSE and A level exams as we as in common discourse. Not knowing these can disadvantage and disengage!
Small shifts here can have a significant impact on participation and belonging.
Final thought
If the first question of an inclusive curriculum is:
“Do students see themselves and others?”
Then the next question must be:
“Can they do something with what they see?”
Because true inclusion isn’t just about visibility.
It’s about access, voice, and participation.
And that’s what makes literacy a superpower.
Further reading:
Harley
Harley, J. (2018) Foreword. In: Why closing the word gap matters: Oxford language report. Oxford: Oxford University Press, p. 2.
Burnett, Merchant & Neumann
Burnett, C., Merchant, G. and Neumann, M. (2020) ‘Closing the gap? Overcoming limitations in sociomaterial accounts of early literacy’, Journal of Early Childhood Literacy, 20(1), pp. 111–113. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1177/1468798419896067
Global Equality collective
Global Equality Collective GEC KnowHow Bookshop. Available at: GEC KnowHow Bookshop
Global Equality Collective 6 books to diversify your bookshelf (NCAFF). Available at: https://www.thegec.education/blog/6-books-to-diversify-your-bookshelf-ncaff
Kara
Kara, B. (2020) A little guide for teachers: diversity in schools. London: Sage Publications Ltd.
Quigley
Quigley, A. (2018) Closing the vocabulary gap. London: Routledge.
Wilby
Wilby, A. (2024) ‘Privilege, knowledge, and access: navigating education through cultural capital’, Global Equality Collective Blog, 12 September. Available at: https://www.thegec.education/blog/privilege-knowledge-and-access-navigating-education-through-cultural-capital
Worth-it (2021) How to build positive relationships in school, Worth-it Blog, 17 May. Available at: https://www.worthit.org.uk/blog/positive-relationships-school
Using the Froebelian principles to navigate social justice in early childhood education and beyond
Written by Rachna Joshi
Rachna is a teacher and consultant. She works with under-threes, Nursery and Reception children, and holds an MA in Early Childhood Studies. Rachna writes and speaks at events sharing experience and knowledge, empowering practitioners and provoking questions to disrupt routine practice. She supports schools by guiding educators to implement inspiring practice that reflects their classes. She works as a freelance consultant and with the Froebel Trust as a travelling tutor.
Having a strong set of principles and worldview is taken with us into our role as educators. Principles, like the Froebelian principles, provide a philosophical framework in which to base our actions upon. It acts as a compass to guide us in times when we are uncertain.
The book; Froebel and social justice, looks at the themes of social justice; diversity, equality, equity and participation, and interrogates the ways in which Froebel and his ideas for education articulate and look to achieve social justice in times today.
The Froebelian framework asks us to start with ourselves, and who we are as individuals and educators. Understanding who we are helps us to help others in understanding who they are, for example, working with children to explore a part of their identity in a sensitive way that celebrates their uniqueness and wholly accepts and recognises all different parts of them.
This task does not come without its challenges, bias creeps into our minds, stereotypes, hierarchies of what is acceptable and less acceptable alter our worldviews and ability to see clearly the individual in front of us. The work to reflect on our thoughts and ideas aligns closely with Froebelian and Freieran concepts.
The Froebelian principle of Unity and Connectedness runs through the work of social justice, finding connections, similarities and celebrating differences. As well, the principle Relationship Matters, ensures that we meet the child and their family where they are at, and understand the fluidity of different needs and evolving contexts. When thinking about the children we work with, do we know enough about their family and their culture and do we try to learn or understand the nuances of each child’s unique world? Do we as educators consider the power we hold in our work with children, from simply organising the environment, to the interactions or rules we create to manage the spaces we are in? For example, do we consider babies and young children’s consent when being physically handled? Are we empathetic educators who understand the complexities in children’s worlds? An example that I share in the book discusses the very real fear of the hand dryer in the children’s toilets at a school – what do educators do to empathise with this and remove this feeling of fear.
Whilst exploring the larger themes of social justice the second part of Froebel and Social Justice uses the four freedoms; from fear, from want, of speech and of worship as a lens to tackle the issues of social justice within classroom contexts. These offer a wider exploration of ecological situations that arise which have an impact on the child and the family at the interpersonal level. The freedom from worship is explored through the lens of beliefs, religion, culture and Nature as ways to take part in worthwhile celebrations and events.
Many educators who are unfamiliar with Froebel may not be aware of his own work towards social justice in his context in Germany in the 1800s. He advocated for women to be teachers when during his time this was not the norm, and he ensured his educational institutions were for all children – boys and girls from all different backgrounds which again was not usual for this time. In his ideas of education he constantly wrote books and letters to help change the minds of those within his community towards an approach to education that enables children to think freely for themselves and see the connections of the world around them.
In some places, social justice is an add on, instead of being the foundation of which we hold ourselves in our workplaces. The book Froebel and Social Justice is a practical book that is for educators who work with a range of different aged children to reflect and renew their commitment to creating a socially just world.
Pre-order Froebel and Social justice here: https://www.bloomsbury.com/uk/froebel-and-social-justice-9781350529328/
Maslow’s Hierarchy Was Never Just a Pyramid
Written by Hannah Wilson
Founder and Director of the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators).
Every educator has seen it. The pyramid – at the bottom sit physiological needs: food, water, shelter, sleep. Above that come safety, belonging, esteem, and finally – at the peak – self-actualisation.
For decades, Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs has shaped educational thinking. It appears in teacher training, wellbeing frameworks, behaviour support models, and school leadership presentations around the world. The message is straightforward: children cannot learn effectively if their basic needs are unmet.
And that insight matters;
- Hungry children struggle to concentrate,
- Unsafe children struggle to trust,
- Disconnected children struggle to engage.
But there is a part of the story many educators have never been told.
Maslow’s ideas were influenced by time spent with the Blackfoot Confederacy in 1938, where he observed a society deeply grounded in community, belonging, collective responsibility, and cultural continuity. In later years, scholars and Indigenous educators have pointed to the similarities between Maslow’s developing ideas and Blackfoot understandings of human wellbeing.
What is especially interesting is that Maslow himself never actually drew the famous pyramid we all recognise today. The pyramid – with its upward climb toward individual success – became a Western interpretation of his theory. And perhaps in that interpretation, something important was lost because many Indigenous worldviews do not see human flourishing as an individual journey upward. They see it as relational.
The Problem With the Pyramid
The modern version of Maslow’s hierarchy is often presented as a ladder:
- First survival…
- Then safety…
- Then belonging…
- Then achievement.
Eventually, if all goes well, a person reaches self-actualisation – becoming the fullest version of themselves. But schools have absorbed this framework in ways that often reinforce individualism rather than connection.
Once students’ basic needs are acknowledged, education systems quickly shift focus toward:
- academic performance,
- achievement,
- productivity,
- competition,
- outcomes.
The underlying message becomes: Now that your needs are met, it is time to succeed.
Yet human wellbeing is not linear:
- Children can experience creativity while carrying trauma,
- Students can achieve highly while feeling lonely,
- Young people can comply academically while feeling culturally unseen.
Many First Nations perspectives understand wellbeing not as a hierarchy, but as an interconnected system of relationships – between self, community, identity, spirit, land, and purpose. Belonging is not a stage to move through. It is foundational.
What Indigenous Wisdom Offers Education
One of the most powerful distinctions in Indigenous understandings of wellbeing is the shift from individual fulfilment to collective flourishing.
In many Western systems, the highest goal is personal achievement:
- reaching your potential,
- standing out,
- becoming successful.
But Indigenous perspectives often place greater emphasis on:
- contribution,
- responsibility,
- kinship,
- cultural continuity,
- community wellbeing.
The question changes from: “How do I become my best self?”
To: “How do I strengthen the wellbeing of the community around me?”
That difference has profound implications for schools because schools frequently reward independence while undervaluing interconnectedness.
We celebrate high achievers, but often overlook:
- kindness,
- emotional safety,
- cultural identity,
- collaboration,
- service,
- belonging.
And yet these are the very things that allow human beings to flourish.
What Would Schools Look Like If We Truly Understood This?
If schools genuinely embraced a more holistic understanding of human needs, education might begin to look very different.
We might prioritise:
- relationships before results,
- connection before compliance,
- identity before standardisation,
- wellbeing before performance.
Students would not simply be prepared for exams or careers – they would be prepared for life in community.
Teachers would spend less time asking: “How do we improve outcomes?”
And more time asking: “Do our students feel seen, safe, valued, and connected?”
Because children learn best when they experience belonging.
Not performative belonging…Not tokenistic inclusion…Real belonging.
The kind that says: “You matter here.”
Beyond Achievement
Many schools today are facing rising levels of anxiety, disengagement, loneliness, and behavioural complexity among young people.
We often respond with interventions, data tracking, wellbeing programs, and behaviour systems, but perhaps part of the deeper issue is that modern education has become disconnected from fundamental human needs.
Not just physical needs – but emotional, relational, cultural, and spiritual ones too. The Indigenous perspectives that influenced Maslow remind us that wellbeing cannot be separated from connection.
A child’s sense of identity matters…Community matters…Purpose matters…Relationship matters…And perhaps the greatest misunderstanding of the pyramid is that human flourishing was never meant to be a solo climb to the top.
A Different Vision for Education
What if success in schools was measured not only by grades, but by:
- empathy,
- contribution,
- resilience,
- belonging,
- cultural strength,
- and the ability to care for others?
What if education was not simply about producing successful individuals, but nurturing connected human beings?
Long before modern psychology attempted to define human motivation, First Nations peoples already understood something essential: people thrive through relationships and belonging to a community.
Perhaps schools have been looking at the pyramid for so long that we forgot to look around us. So perhaps the future of education depends not on climbing higher, but on reconnecting more deeply – to ourselves, to each other, and to community.
Understanding Why Mattering Matters for Black Teachers
Written by Tara Elie
Tara Elie teacher, psychologist, lecturer and coach. Tara has diverse experience in education and Learning and Development spanning over decades. She is renowned for her engaging training delivery, both face-to-face and virtually. Her performance background, alongside her passion for supporting individuals and organisations to flourish and thrive, characterise her delivery style. Tara has completed research on Black Teacher Mattering which she is delivering in keynotes. She is passionate about teacher wellbeing and uses the theories of Positive Psychology to inform her work with all clients with a proven record of success. Tara stands for social justice and social change. She appreciates and celebrates the individual, their differing backgrounds, cultures, experiences, perceptions, and values.
A Gap in the Research
As I explored the literature on mattering and education, one issue became increasingly clear: there is very little UK-based research exploring how Black teachers (BTs) experience mattering within schools. Existing research has focused on Black students (Howard-Vital, 1991; Scott, 1996), or on teachers in specific curriculum areas such as Physical Education (Gaudreault et al., 2018). Research specifically examining BTs has largely come from the United States (Milner, 2006; Love, 2016; Carey, 2019).
This gap matters. Conversations about diversity in education often focus on recruitment statistics or representation targets, but much less attention is given to how Black teachers actually experience school environments once they enter the profession. For me, this raises important questions about belonging, recognition, and professional identity. Do Black teachers feel valued? Do they feel seen? Do they feel that what they contribute genuinely matters?
What Does “Mattering” Actually Mean?
Psychologically, mattering refers to the experience of feeling valued by others and believing that we add value to the lives of others. Rosenberg (1985) connected mattering to self-esteem, describing it as being treated with respect and having one’s value acknowledged. Elliott (2009) similarly described mattering as the belief that we make a meaningful difference.
What I find particularly powerful about these definitions is that mattering is not simply about praise or confidence. It is relational. It is about whether people feel psychologically significant within the spaces they occupy.
For Black teachers, however, this experience can become more complicated when viewed through the lens of race. Elliott (2009) identifies awareness — being noticed and distinguishable from others — as an important component of mattering. Yet Jensen’s (2011) research on Black men in Denmark suggests that visibility is not always experienced positively when connected to racial “othering”.
This feels especially relevant within education. Black teachers may be highly visible within predominantly white institutions whilst simultaneously feeling unheard, stereotyped, or professionally overlooked. Visibility alone does not create mattering. In fact, being visible without being genuinely valued may deepen feelings of marginality.
Dignity, Fairness, and Recognition
The literature repeatedly highlights dignity and fairness as central to mattering. Prilleltensky (2019) describes dignity as “the backbone of mattering”, whilst Perryman and Calvert (2020) connect worthiness to fair and just treatment.
I think this is particularly important when considering the experiences of BTs. If teachers experience stereotyping, inequitable treatment, or exclusion from opportunities, this can undermine not only confidence but also their sense of professional worth.
Recognition also matters deeply. Ryan (1985) argues that positive feedback strengthens motivation and well-being, whilst Prilleltensky (2014) suggests that feeling valued increases people’s confidence to contribute actively within their communities. In schools, acknowledgement from colleagues and leaders can reinforce a teacher’s sense that their work is meaningful. Conversely, a lack of recognition can contribute to invisibility.
Relationships, Belonging, and Authenticity
One theme that appears consistently throughout the literature is the importance of relationships. Gaudreault et al. (2018) found that relationships and support formed the foundation of teachers’ experiences of mattering. Although their research focused on Physical Education teachers, I believe the findings resonate strongly with the experiences of BTs.
Teaching is deeply relational work. The quality of relationships with students, colleagues, and leaders can shape whether teachers experience schools as places of belonging or exclusion.
Belonging itself appears closely linked to mattering. Warstadt, Daly and Bjorkland (2021) found that teachers with higher well-being often experience a stronger sense of belonging within their school communities. This supports Baumeister and Leary’s (1995) argument that the need to belong is a fundamental human motivation.
For BTs working in predominantly white educational spaces, belonging may carry even greater significance. Experiences of isolation or tokenism can weaken professional attachment, whilst authentic inclusion can strengthen resilience and professional identity.
I was also particularly drawn to Deci and Ryan’s Self-Determination Theory (1985), which suggests that people thrive when they experience competence, autonomy, and relatedness. For Black teachers, the opportunity to work authentically — without suppressing aspects of racial or cultural identity — may be central to experiencing mattering.
Mattering, Burnout, and Retention
The literature also suggests a strong connection between mattering, burnout, and retention. Barrenechea (2022) found that teachers who feel valued and able to add value experience higher levels of mental health and self-efficacy, reducing the likelihood of burnout. Conversely, Perryman and Calvert (2020) identify workload and work-life balance as key drivers of teachers leaving the profession. For BTs, however, these pressures may be compounded by experiences of racial marginalisation, limited recognition, or diminished belonging.
The racial dimension of mattering feels especially important in the context of the #BlackLivesMatter movement, which increased awareness of Black marginalisation and the importance of Black mattering more broadly (Carey, 2019). Within education, Kohli and Pizarro (2016) argue that BTs committed to social justice frequently experience structural and interpersonal racism, contributing to burnout and, in some cases, departure from the profession altogether.
Representation data reinforces this concern. The Department for Education (2023) reported that 85.1% of teachers in England were white British, despite significantly greater ethnic diversity within London. This underrepresentation potentially increases experiences of marginality for BTs and may undermine their sense of mattering within schools.
Progression and Professional Value
The literature also suggests that race can shape access to leadership opportunities. Miller (2016) argues that Black educators often require “white sanction” to progress professionally, whilst Wallace (2020) found that Black male teachers in London were frequently channelled into racialised roles yet blocked from senior leadership progression.
What I find striking here is the tension between praise and progression. Teachers may be valued symbolically whilst still being denied genuine access to power, influence, or advancement. Francis’ (2021) work on Black female teachers similarly found that race often had a more negative impact on professional experience than gender.
Despite these challenges, many BTs enter teaching because they genuinely want to make a difference. Perryman and Calvert (2020) identify this as a key driver for teachers, whilst Dinkins and Thomas (2016) found that some Black educators were motivated by their own difficult school experiences and a desire to become positive role models for future generations.
Conclusion
Ultimately, the literature suggests that mattering is central to understanding the experiences of Black teachers. Feeling valued, recognised, supported, and able to contribute authentically may influence not only well-being, but also retention, progression, and long-term commitment to the profession. For me, this is why mattering matters. If schools are serious about inclusion, then representation alone is not enough. We also need to ask whether Black teachers feel that they genuinely belong, whether their voices are heard, and whether their contribution is truly valued within the profession.
The LGBT Educators Report 2025
Written by Ashley Robyn Harker
Ashley Harker is a North London based Trans humanities teacher. She is a trustee of the national Woodcraft Folk and Vice-Chair of Epping Forest District Museum.
The LGBT+ Educators report highlights the prevalence of othering and discriminatory treatment of LGBT+ and particularly trans teachers working in England and Wales’s education sector.
From a survey of over 50 LGBT+ educators in the National Education Union (NEU) 78% had seriously considered leaving the teaching profession as well as 60% believing queerphobia to be on the rise in their schools and half believing that it was treated as a lesser form of discrimination by their school leadership.
Major issues found are a lack of support, trust or respect for LGBT+ educators’ identity, experiences or contributions in schools as well as repeated cases of targeting and poor treatment of LGBT+ individuals.
In terms of recruitment and retention:
- 85% of cis LGBT+ educators reported they felt they faced greater difficulties in getting a job compared with straight cis teachers.
- 40% of LGBT+ educators believed that school employers negatively considered LGBT+ candidates.
- A third of LGBT+ (40% of trans) educators had the role they applied for changed after it was offered (most usually going from a permanent role to temporary).
- Trans and Black educators on average had to interview for nearly 3 times as many roles compared with white and cis LGBT+ educators and Trans Women often have worked in more than 3 times as many schools as cis LGBT+ educators.
- 57% of binary trans educators had started their current role in the past 12 months and 80% of LGBT+ educators leaving or potentially leaving their school at the end of the academic year were trans (with 66% not securing a role).
In terms of treatment in schools:
- 45% of LGBT+ educators believed they were treated differently in the workplace, with 1/3 stating they were treated differently by colleagues including being told not to come out or hide their identity by SLT.
- 90% of LGBT+ educators had heard homophobic and transphobic language used in schools. Educators were more likely to hear and be subjected to Transphobic language than Homophobic language from colleagues.
- Only 47% of LGBT+ educators had received any form of training on LGBT+ topics in an educational setting, with only a third who had requested such training for their school having it delivered.
- Only 33% of trans educators stated they were able to use the toilets and changing facilities that aligned with their gender. 78% of trans educators had had to argue for access to school toilets.
- 93% of LGBT+ believed that how their schools acknowledged LGBT+ topics had little to no impact and 50% of educators who had attempted to include LGBT+ topics in their curriculum had been ignored or told not to.
- 18% of LGBT+ educators had not been included in school trips or residentials because of or in part because of their LGBT+ identity.
The report also highlights the impact recent and historic decisions against LGBT+ equality have had on the education sector:
- 50% of LGBT+ educators believed that their school was still impacted by Section 28 and 100% believed something similar could be put in place in the near future.
- 88% of LGBT+ (including all trans) educators reported that their mental health had deteriorated following the For Women Scotland Supreme Court ruling with 44% stating that this had impacted their ability to work. 50% reported the decision had had a negative impact on pupils.
- Only 25% had been approached or supported by colleagues following these decisions. A quarter stated that their schools had already made changes such as removing gender neutral toilets, amending pupil’s school data or denying trans staff access to toilets following the Supreme Court ruling.
The survey for the LGBT+ Educators report was carried out between May and August 2025.
The research was led by Ashley Harker and covered LGBT+ Educators experiences of recruitment, perception, policy, curriculum, bullying, training and opportunities in education.