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.
Sexuality, privacy, and professional safety

Written by Emma Swift
Emma Swift is a Vice Principal and former trust-wide subject lead for a multi academy trust, specialising in science and initial teacher training. She is the subject lead for Physics for the National Institute of Teaching and Education.
On being visible, being private, and deciding what to carry at work
For some teachers, sexuality is something that barely enters their working life.
For others, it is something they think about constantly not because they want to, but because it shapes how visible, safe, or exposed they feel at work.
This difference matters.
Heteronormativity and the illusion of “not sharing”
Many heterosexual teachers will say they don’t talk about their sexuality at work and genuinely believe it.
But mentioning a spouse, a partner, a weekend plan, or a family photo on a desk is already a form of disclosure. It’s simply one that aligns with what students and colleagues expect, so it passes unnoticed.
For LGBTQ+ teachers, the same casual references can feel loaded. A simple pronoun choice can suddenly feel like a decision with consequences.
This isn’t about oversensitivity. It’s about risk awareness.
Being “out” is not a single decision
There is a persistent narrative that being out is an all-or-nothing state: either you are open, or you are hiding.
The reality is far more nuanced.
You may be:
- Out to colleagues but not students
- Out in one school but not another
- Open in some contexts and private in others
- Comfortable one year and cautious the next
None of these positions are dishonest.
They are strategic.
Teaching is not a neutral workplace. It is shaped by:
- Community attitudes
- School culture
- Leadership support
- Student maturity
- Media narratives
Your safety and wellbeing sit within all of that.
You do not owe visibility to anyone
There can be subtle and sometimes explicit – pressure on LGBTQ+ teachers to be visible “for the students”.
Representation matters.
But representation should never come at the cost of personal safety.
No individual teacher is responsible for fixing systemic inequality.
You are allowed to prioritise:
- Emotional safety
- Job security
- Mental health
- Professional focus
Choosing privacy is not a failure of courage.
It is an assessment of context.
The classroom is not a neutral space
Students talk. Families talk. Communities talk. What is said in a classroom rarely stays there. This is not paranoia – it is experience. Before sharing anything personal, it’s worth asking:
- How might this be repeated?
- How might it be reframed?
- How might it be misunderstood?
Once information enters the student sphere, control over it is lost. That doesn’t mean you should never share; no it means you should share deliberately.
Managing questions about relationships
Students may ask:
“Do you have a husband/wife?”
“Are you married?”
“Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend?”
You are not required to correct assumptions. You are not required to disclose.
Neutral responses can include:
“I keep my personal life private.”
“That’s not something I discuss with students.”
“I’m here as your teacher.”
Some teachers choose gender-neutral language.
Some choose redirection.
Some choose openness.
The key is that you decide, not the moment.
Professional safety is not the same as secrecy
There is an important distinction between secrecy and privacy.
- Secrecy is driven by fear.
- Privacy is driven by choice.
You can be open with trusted colleagues and private with students. You can advocate for inclusion without narrating your life. You can support LGBTQ+ students without positioning yourself as evidence.
Your professionalism is not diminished by boundaries.
Who gets asked to do the work
In many schools, inclusion work doesn’t get distributed evenly. It often lands on the people most affected by it. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been asked to deliver the “LGBT assembly” or lead something for LGBT History Month. As a senior leader, I’m always willing to do an assembly that’s part of the role. But there’s an extra layer here that often goes unacknowledged.
When you are the one standing in front of a room talking about LGBTQ+ lives, you are also the one absorbing the reaction. The looks. The comments. The atmosphere. And when students express strong views which are sometimes openly homophobic, it is often the person most directly affected who is expected to manage that moment.
That carries a cost.
I still remember, around sixteen years ago, sitting in an assembly where a heterosexual male teacher spoke about Alan Turing his work, and what was done to him. It stirred something in me I wasn’t used to feeling in school. At the time, hearing LGBTQ+ lives acknowledged at all felt rare.
That moment stayed with me. And part of why it mattered was that it didn’t come from someone who had to carry the personal weight of it. There’s a difference between choosing to share and being positioned as the one who should. Even smaller moments of coming out can carry that same weight. Not just the big, defining conversations – sometimes it’s the quieter ones that stay with you.
I remember telling one of my A Level classes while working in North London. I wasn’t sure how they would respond, particularly given the strength of religious belief in the room. I had prepared myself for discomfort. Instead, they were warm, protective, and thoughtful. It meant a great deal.
Sometime after I left, one of those students wrote to me. She said she wanted to go into teaching and wrote: “I thought I wanted to be the teacher I needed. Then I realised I wanted to be the person I had.”
That stayed with me.
It’s also important to say that these experiences aren’t the same for everyone. As a lesbian, I’m aware that I may be navigating less immediate risk than some of my gay male colleagues. Context matters too – subjects, age groups, school culture. A PE teacher, for example, may face a very different set of challenges to a science teacher.
All of this shapes who feels able to speak, and when. Which is why inclusion work shouldn’t quietly default to the same people, again and again.
When schools talk about inclusion
If a school claims to value inclusion, that should show up in:
- Clear policies
- Leadership behaviour
- Responses to incidents
- How staff are supported, not showcased
Be wary of environments where inclusion is performative, but protection is absent.
A genuinely inclusive school does not pressure staff into visibility. It ensures that if staff are visible, they are safe.
A final thought
Sexuality at work is not about honesty versus hiding. It’s about context, consent, and control. You are allowed to change your mind. You are allowed to reassess. You are allowed to protect yourself. Professional safety is not selfish.
It is what allows you to keep doing the work well and to keep yourself intact while you do it.
AI Will Shape Education - But Who Gets to Shape AI?
Written by Belonging Effect
Belonging Effect is committed to shaping intention into impact and supporting people with their Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, & Belonging strategy and training needs.
Artificial intelligence is already changing education. From lesson planning and assessment tools to tutoring platforms and student support systems, AI is becoming embedded in how schools operate and how young people learn. The conversation is no longer about whether AI will influence education. It already does.
The real question is this: Who gets to shape the future of AI in education?
Because AI is not neutral. Every AI system reflects the decisions, assumptions, priorities, and perspectives of the people who build it. The data selected. The questions asked. The problems chosen to solve. The voices included – and excluded – from the room.
If we are not intentional, AI risks reinforcing the very inequities education is trying to disrupt. And that matters deeply for schools.
We have already seen examples of AI systems producing biased outcomes:
- Recruitment algorithms favouring certain demographics
- Writing detection tools disproportionately flagging multilingual learners
- Facial recognition systems performing less accurately on darker skin tones
- Predictive technologies reinforcing historical inequalities rather than challenging them
Bias in AI is often not malicious. But it can become invisible, automated, and scaled at a speed education systems have never seen before. That is why educators must be part of shaping AI strategy – not simply responding to it after decisions have already been made.
Teachers, school leaders, inclusion specialists, youth workers, parents, and community voices bring something essential to this conversation: human understanding. Educators understand context: they understand belonging; they understand lived experience; they understand the difference between efficiency and equity.
If AI strategy is shaped only by technologists and commercial interests, we risk creating systems that optimise for speed and standardisation over humanity and inclusion.
But there is another possibility…
AI could become a powerful tool for accessibility, creativity, personalisation, and opportunity – if a broader and more diverse range of people are involved in shaping what responsible AI looks like in practice.
That means we need more diverse voices and thinkers involved: more perspectives; more challenge; more collaboration. We need people from different backgrounds, communities, cultures, identities, and professional experiences helping to shape the future of AI in education. Not because diversity is a “nice to have,” but because it is a safeguard against harm.
At The Belonging Effect, we believe belonging and equity must sit at the centre of conversations about innovation and technology. That is why we are inviting our network to get involved.
Over the coming months, we will be hosting a series of free webinars exploring AI, education, equity, and belonging. These sessions are designed to create accessible spaces for educators and leaders to learn, question, challenge, and contribute to the conversation – regardless of their starting point with AI.
We are also collaborating on a fully funded training programme with our partners at CVP Group for educators and professionals who want to deepen their understanding of AI, inclusive practice, and ethical leadership in this rapidly evolving space.
We are keen to amplify more diverse voices in this conversation as too often, discussions about AI are dominated by a narrow range of perspectives so we want to help change that. Therefore, we are actively looking to publish blogs, reflections, case studies, and opinion pieces from educators, practitioners, community leaders, and changemakers from diverse backgrounds who are thinking critically about AI, inclusion, belonging, and the future of education.
You do not need to be an AI expert. You do not need to work in technology. If you care about equity, representation, belonging, and the future young people are inheriting, your voice matters, because the future of AI in education should not be built for communities without them – it must be built with them.
This moment presents both a challenge and an opportunity as the decisions being made now will shape classrooms, opportunities, and experiences for years to come. We cannot afford for those decisions to be shaped by only a small group of voices. Disrupting bias in AI starts with diversifying who is involved in shaping strategy and that work belongs to all of us.
The future of AI is being written right now. The question is whether education – and the communities most impacted by these technologies – will help write the story.
To join one of our free webinars, apply for the fully funded training programme, or contribute a blog to our growing community of voices, connect with The Belonging Effect today. Our monthly newsletter will be out on Wednesday.
Together, let’s ensure the future of AI in education is inclusive, ethical, and rooted in belonging.
Race and Leadership Roles in Schools – My Story

Written by Patrick Cozier
Patrick Cozier is a headteacher, a coach and the author of Calm Leadership.
Desire to be a Headteacher
I came into teaching because of a desire to make a difference to the lives of children. I have always believed that education has the ability to transform lives and create opportunities for young people. My own personal example is one that I always draw strength from. My parents came over from Barbados in the 1960s as part of the Windrush generation – my mother an auxiliary nurse and my father a postal worker. They came here with the intention of creating a better life for their children than they had experienced. Education was at the heart of this dream. And so, it began…
I started teaching in September 1994, in South London. I knew by 1996 that I wanted to be a Headteacher. Working in a school with a high number of Black and Asian children, I could see the impact that myself and some other Black staff in the school had on connecting with those students and providing role models to fuel their aspiration. I recognised pretty early that if we could have that effect as teachers, the potential for Black and Asian leaders to create a significant positive impact was huge. I wanted to be THAT person. From that moment on, everything that I did in my teaching career was done with the intention to propel me towards that aim.
For me it was interesting, because I did not at the time view being Black as a disadvantage. I felt very much as though it was one of my big selling points. I always felt that my ‘Blackness’ (i.e., my cultural heritage, skill set, adaptability, and shared experiences with children from African and Caribbean heritage) would place me in a strong position to lead a school with a mix of cultures. In the early days of my career, I did not see barriers – just dreams, ambitions and goals.
What I did not consider was that my own sense of value and self-belief was only half the story. The challenge was finding ways to ensure that others (in particular governors doing the selecting) could see in me what I saw in me. This was a much bigger challenge than I had anticipated, and I think explains to a large extent why there are comparatively few senior leaders and Headteachers from Black and Asian backgrounds represented in the profession.
Gov.UK – School Teacher Workforce February 2021 shows
- in 2019, 85.7% of all teachers in state-funded schools in England were White British (where ethnicity was known)
- 78.5% of the working age population was White British at the time of the 2011 Census
- 92.7% of headteachers were White British
| Ethnicity | % of the Working Population | % of
Classroom Teachers |
% of Deputies and Assistant Heads | % of Headteachers |
| White British | 85.7 | 84.9 | 89.7 | 92.7 |
| White Irish | 1.5 | 1.5 | 1.7 | 1.8 |
Source: School Workforce in England: November 2019 https://explore-education-statistics.service.gov.uk/find-statistics/school-workforce-in-england
The data in the table above gives a clear indication of the national picture. The percentage of White British teachers in 2019 (84.9) was almost identical to the percentage of the working population that was White British (85.7). The percentage of Headteachers who were White British at this time was 92.7, which shows an over-representation.
Contrast this with the same data for Black African, Black Caribbean and Black Other below.
| Ethnicity | % of the Working Population | % of
Classroom Teachers |
% of Deputies and Assistant Heads | % of Headteachers |
| Black African | 1.9 | 1.0 | 0.4 | 0.2 |
| Black Caribbean | 1.2 | 1.1 | 1.0 | 0.7 |
| Black Other | 0.5 | 0.4 | 0.2 | 0.1 |
Source: School Workforce in England: November 2019 https://explore-education-statistics.service.gov.uk/find-statistics/school-workforce-in-england
The proportion of Headteachers is a significant under-representation of Black heads and as compared to both the general working population and the proportion of classroom teachers.
What this points to is the comparatively poor progression that has been made in the profession for our Black African and Black Caribbean colleagues. So, what is the story here?
There are many theories for why the number of Black Headteachers is so low.
- Poor/biased recruitment processes
- Insufficient opportunities for development of our Black teachers in school
- Black teachers do not want to apply because
- they do not believe they will be given an opportunity or
- they do not see headship itself as an attractive prospect or
- They feel the situation of headship for a person of colour is precarious as they will be judged harshly if things go wrong
In my conversations with colleagues over the years I have encountered all of the above scenarios. It seems to be commonplace and the data certainly supports this view – that is, unless you believe in the meritocratic theory and your view is that there are just insufficient Black candidates who are up to the job. I personally can’t and won’t accept this as a position.
My own journey was nearly derailed by one line manager who tried to sabotage my first ever application for a senior leadership position. This was back in 2001. I was a head of year, and I was keen on promotion. I was confident and believed that I was ready. My line manager did not and told me so – I recall her specific words were ‘I would be worried if you were appointed to a senior leadership role’. Now to be fair, I don’t know whether my Blackness had anything to do with her view, but I do not that she failed to see the potential in me at the time.
However, I was fortunate in that I was confident, and my Headteacher at the time believed in my capacity to do a great job as a senior leader. His support turned out to be critical as following a very successful interview process I was informed by the school that I had applied to that the two references that they had received were in contrast – one very supportive and the other less so. I found that disappointing, but sadly predictable.
The Headteacher of the school that I had applied to (who in the end decided to appoint me) explained to me that what they saw and felt throughout my gruelling two-day interview process was more aligned to the reference from my Headteacher, than that of my immediate line manager – so they took a chance and believed in me. I haven’t looked back since.
But now I think… was I just one of the lucky ones?
Much can be done to change this situation. For example,
- The government should invest in the diversity of our sector and fund leadership development programmes for people of colour.
- Governing bodies need to think about their own makeup and be genuinely committed to proactively recruiting governors who represent the communities served by the school.
- Governing bodies also need to consider how a lack of diversity influences the decisions they make when recruiting senior leaders – in particular they need to seek out training in unconscious bias and use their learning from that to shape thought and process.
- More of our current crop of leaders of colour need to adhere to the ‘each one, teach one’ mantra – we have to give back and help our more junior colleagues navigate their way through the system the way that we have through coaching, mentoring and offering opportunities for work experience and shadowing.
Afraid of own shadow
I started my first headship at the age of 34 in September 2006, just 18 months after I have first become a deputy. It was sooner than I had anticipated, and it was scary. Despite my clear ambition to be a headteacher, I was not expecting it quite so soon. And the truth was, I was not quite ready for what I was taking on. I think I was scared of my own shadow! I was confident that I could learn quickly (and boy, did I have to!), but the journey was a very challenging one and extended me in ways that I did not know was possible.
I was an internal candidate. I applied for the job because I wanted to take advantage of the experience of applying for headships and going through the process. I applied because I was convinced by those around me that I would be a good candidate for the job. I applied because I wanted to compare myself to the competition. Never (and I mean like, ever) did I imagine I would get the job, until the second day of interviews when I was down to the final three candidates from over 30 applicants. Then it hit me… This was REAL! After I was successful on day 2 and I was offered the job, I responded by asking the then Chair of Governors, ‘Are you sure?’. In hindsight, that was a silly (albeit honest) thing to say based on how I felt at the time.
I was excited, but also petrified. To talk about ‘imposter syndrome’ would not do how I felt at the time any justice. I remember saying to my coach (who was a very experienced ex-headteacher) that I just couldn’t get used to the feeling of constantly being on the edge of my comfort zone. It was just not something that I was prepared for.
The first few years were tough and represented a very steep learning curve. My first challenge was not so much about leading the school as leading my colleagues. I was the last one in – the young pretender. Suddenly, I was thrust into having to manage a team of people who were more experienced than I was and who had been at my school for longer than me. My confidence to make decisions when others who I had great respect for, and a sense of awe in some cases, disagreed.
There was also the added pressure of being a young Black Headteacher, at the time one of only 11 secondary school male Black Headteachers of African-Caribbean heritage in the UK. I felt proud, but also daunted. I enjoyed the wearing the cloak of representation. A particular source of joy and strength for me was hearing from Black parents how pleased they were to see me in my role and how much they were rooting for me. That always touched me (and still does) and I used it as fuel to overcome some of the fears of the role. I have always embraced this responsibility as a privilege rather than a burden. However, it is not easy.
The need to be extra-vigilant about what one says is tough and draining. The feeling of being a lone voice at the many tables at which one sits in Headship and as a system leader can be frustrating and dispiriting. These all make the job much more demanding as a person of colour.
However the biggest difficulty that I had as a new Headteacher (and admittedly still now at times) was the propensity that I had for editing myself. It is hard to explain, but as a Black person in a position of leadership there are certain stereotypes about Black people that you are aware of and wish to avoid. I found myself minimising certain aspects of my culture and natural state of being. Below are some examples, with differing degrees of seriousness.
- Turning down my music in the car as I drive through the gates in the morning – not wanting other staff to hear the beautiful thumping reggae beats that set up my positive and confident mood for the day.
- Being cool and calm at ALL times. I was very aware of the stereotype of the ‘angry Black man’, and I never wanted to fall foul of this.
- Restricting the desire to challenge racism whenever and wherever I witnessed it. As a Black person you see it all the time in various different explicit and implicit guises and you want to call it out – but the editing process leads you to pick your battles carefully as you don’t want to be seen as that Black person where ‘everything is about race’.
- I edited my accent. Around friends and family it is entirely natural to speak in our heavy patois dialect. There were times in the early days where I wanted to do so with Black colleagues or students to accentuate that connection and shared experience through a shared language, but the pressure of being the Black Headteacher prevented me from doing so.
When I reflect now on how important these issues are, the conclusion that I draw is that they are crucial. It isn’t so much about the trivial nature of some of the edits described above. There is something more fundamental taking place in my view that gnaws away at the very purpose of diversity. Having diversity in leadership can only make a difference if leaders bring their diversity in with them as they travel through the school gates. To edit oneself is to lose the very difference that your diversity can make. It essentially turns everyone into a middle-class white man.
Based on my reflections of my own journey and experiences, I now make a point of telling our young aspiring Black leaders to be themselves. I tell them that their authenticity is actually what matters the most. They each can bring something different to the role if they are prepared to be brave and resist the temptation to edit.
In the early stages of my headship, I had great support from a range of coaches that I saw in my first few years in post – and each helped me significantly in very different ways. As well as the need to feel like I was worthy of the job, I had that added need to stop falling to the temptation of editing myself. I learned a lot from my coaches. The helped me make sense of my experiences and supported the development of the sense of perspective that I have honed over time. However, my early struggles were tough – and when I think of it now, I reflect on how I might have changed the nature of that support if I could go back as an experienced leader now and help my younger, less experienced self. I have been developing something I refer to as ‘Calm Leadership’ as a means of addressing this (What is calm leadership and why is it important? (sec-ed.co.uk)).
Getting Diversity in a Team Which Is Not Diverse
Although diversity in leadership is the ultimate aim to ensure that leadership is inclusive in its purpose and function, the reality is that many teams are not there in terms of the representation among the leadership. Getting the team to that point is a long-term strategy. In the meantime, it is important to find ways to work with what you have to increase awareness, understanding and to promote diversity of thought and approach.
I have a leadership team that is not diverse. We represent a school community that looks different from the team of senior leaders who are there to represent them. The same is true of my wider staff body. We have done a number of things over the last couple of years to try to move things forward. Some examples are shared below:
- We got our leadership team to read the book White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo and Brit(ish): On Race, Identity and Belonging by Afua Hirsch and to reflect on their own views, perspectives and practice
- Presentation from the me to staff on my own journey to being a Headteacher – sharing my experiences as a Black boy in North London to a Black man
- We showed staff videos recordings of our Black and Asian students talking about their experiences at our school
- We weaved our equality targets into our SDP – so every other departmental plan must reference this
- All student data is broken down and analysed by a range of sub-criteria including ethnic background
- We have a Racial Equity governor
- We have created a Student Cultural Diversity Forum (early stages)
- Zero tolerance of any racist behaviours – even against ‘your own’
- Staff have received training in unconscious bias
- We have reviewed our approach to promoting positive behaviours utilising the skills and experience of an external behaviour specialist
- Every member of staff was given the opportunity to have a book on anti-racism brought for them to read for the summer – 65 took up the offer! We have met twice since September to review, learn and apply
Race and Leadership Roles in Schools
Race matters. Visibility matters. Diversity matters. In leadership roles, they matter even more… so long as they actually make a difference.
Authenticity is the key. We have to train people to be their authentic selves as diverse leaders in order for the diversity of their experiences, backgrounds, thinking approaches and views to bring something different to the table.
In order to benefit from this, we need to make sure that we are doing more to encourage and bring the talent pool of ethnic global majority leaders through the system. We need to get more Black and Asian teachers into the profession and then help them progress their journeys through to leadership. To do this we must carefully consider the current barriers and blockers as to why this is not already the case and find ways to overcome them. This will take leadership at all levels, from the UK Government, down to Local Authorities and Multi-Academy Trusts and ultimately with the school governors and leaders.
If Black and Asian Leaders succeed, then everybody does!
Everyday Sexism: A Powerful Call to Action from Laura Bates - What Schools Can No Longer Ignore

Written by Hannah Wilson
Founder and Director of the Belonging Effect (formerly Diverse Educators).
When Laura Bates, founder of the Everyday Sexism Project, addressed the room of boarding school headteachers and senior leaders, her message was not abstract, ideological, or optional. It was urgent, and it was evidence-based.
Drawing on what is now one of the largest datasets of its kind – over 250,000 testimonies, many from children – Bates laid out a reality that schools are already part of, whether they recognise it or not.
This Is Not a “Girls’ Issue”
One of the clearest points: sexism is not about being “anti-boys.” It is instead about the ecosystem young people are growing up in. Rigid gender stereotypes harm everyone – shaping body image pressures for both girls and boys, narrowing subject choices, and reinforcing harmful expectations about relationships, power, and identity.
The idea of a “gender war” or “battle of the sexes” is not only misleading, it actively prevents progress. Instead, Bates reframed the issue: this is about culture, not conflict.
The Scale and Subtlety of the Problem
Some statistics that she shared were stark and made me feel really uncomfortable, despite being familiar with most of them:
- 86% of women in the UK report experiencing sexual harassment
- 72% of women report sexism in the classroom
- 71% of 16-year-old girls report being called “slut” or “slag” on a weekly basis
But just as important is what Bates called “subtle sexism.”
This is the quiet shaping of expectations:
- which subjects feel “appropriate”
- how physical spaces exclude women and girls
- whose voices are taken seriously
- how authority – especially female authority – is undermined
These are not isolated incidents: they are cumulative; they are structured; they are reinforced through media, advertising, peer culture, and increasingly, algorithms.
Language Matters More Than We Admit
The distinction between “groping” and “sexual harassment” is not semantic – it is cultural. So too is the shift from focusing on victims to naming perpetrators, and from passive bystanders to active upstanders. Language shapes what young people think is normal, tolerable, or reportable. If we minimise behaviours in how we speak about them, we normalise them in practice.
As a former English teacher, and now DEIB trainer, the power of language and our language choices are something I think about a lot and explore with our clients regularly.
The Online World Is Not Separate From School
A major theme was the widening gap between adults and young people in digital spaces. Most educators and parents are not digital natives. Yet, their students and their children are.
This gap matters because the online environment is not neutral – it is actively shaping attitudes:
- Influencers like Andrew Tate have amassed billions of views
- Algorithmic pathways can lead users toward extreme misogynistic content in minutes
- Exposure to pornography is now commonly reported around age 13
Bates referenced the “manosphere” – a network of online communities where ideas such as “AWALT” (“all women are like this”) circulate and harden. This is not fringe content. It is mainstream, accessible, and often gamified.
A New Frontier: AI and Exploitation
If that was not enough for us to deal with in our schools and in our homes, then the emerging technologies that are accelerating the problem are the next challenge we face:
- Deepfake and “nudify” tools enabling new forms of abuse
- AI “girlfriends” reshaping expectations of relationships
- Gamified, exploitative systems rewarding harmful behaviour
- Poorly regulated virtual spaces (including metaverses) lacking safeguarding measures
The direction of travel is clear and really concerning. I am conscious that I am not a parent, I am no longer a headteacher and I have recently stood down from being a trustee who led on safeguarding, but I care deeply about our sector, about our society and about our young people. So sitting in a room of school leaders I felt the palpable weight of responsibility on their shoulders as they began to process the enormity of what is rapidly attacking our schools and our homes.
The Youngest Are Most at Risk
Perhaps the most sobering insight: the youngest generation is not the most protected – it is the most exposed. Grooming, radicalisation, and exploitation are no longer rare nor exceptional risks. They are structural features of the environments young people inhabit – and schools sit at the intersection of all of this.
So What Can Schools Do?
Bates did not leave the room without direction but offered some practical advice and signposting.
Effective responses are not one-off assemblies or reactive policies. They are cultural and sustained:
- Start early: challenge gender stereotypes in early childhood
- Explore openly: normalise discussion of relationships, consent, and respect
- Intervene consistently: address language, behaviour, and culture in real time
- Encourage allyship: shift from bystanders to upstanders
- Support staff: particularly where female authority is undermined
- Involve parents: bridging the digital knowledge gap is essential
This is where she signposted organisations such as Tender, Lifting Limits, Beyond Equality, and Bold Voices are already doing critical work alongside schools.
A Cultural Shift, Not a Checklist
Perhaps the most important takeaway is this: sexism does not operate in a vacuum. It is built on foundations – early stereotypes, repeated messages, normalised behaviours.
Which means the solution is not a single intervention, but a process of deconstruction:
- recognising the patterns
- naming them
- and creating genuine alternatives for young people
This is not about removing choice – it is about creating it.
The Question That Remains
Bates left the audience with an implicit challenge to consider: not whether schools should respond – but whether they are prepared for what is already here, and what is coming next. She held up a mirror to remind us that the culture shaping young people today is moving faster than most institutions, so ignoring it is no longer a neutral act.
BSA – thanks for creating the space at the annual conference for this talk (and Gaelle thanks for the invitation to be in the room). Laura – thanks for the clarity and the data that you brought to the conversation.
Teaching Students to Read the Room: Communication, Consent, and Cultural Competence

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.
Educators can foster diversity, equity, inclusion and belonging (DEIB). They must teach young learners about the nuances of people from different backgrounds to help raise a population that recognises the distinct body language, tones and facial expressions, which vary from culture to culture. These teaching techniques are among the most effective at empowering everyone with the tools they need to self-advocate and consider diverse student communication skills.
Scenario-Based Learning and Role-Playing
The UK’s increasingly diverse population makes cultural competence and empathy essential lessons from an early age. Students are more likely to deepen their cultural competence if they experience it firsthand. An educator can start by telling learners about differences in nonverbal communication, including that eye contact is impolite in some regions, such as the Caribbean and East Asia.
To make lessons stick, create a situation in which students must interact to act out responses to different patterns, such as navigating personal space or using direct language to make a request. Educators can also create cards to prompt students to simulate a gathering. Transforming classic games, including charades or Pictionary, is another way to get students to interact with other cultural phrases, physical movements and ideas.
However, it is essential to clarify what is and is not appropriate in these contexts, drawing on insights from the cultures being studied to ensure accuracy and sensitivity.
This activity allows students to speak, hear and witness how others would react, especially for people in marginalised communities. Learners may not regularly interact with these individuals, so shaping the environment is crucial to prepare them for that experience. Cross-cultural exposure and communication can positively affect students’ cultural competence.
Film and Media Analysis
Exposing students to diverse media is one of the best ways to make the content entertaining, engaging and stimulating. There is a low barrier to entry in visual media, making the content accessible and safe to consume, which is important when these topics can be intimidating. Also, it stretches students beyond their cultural echo chambers and challenges their stereotypes.
Teachers can source TV shows, movies, news broadcasts and music videos to display narrative in different ways, all focused on considerate communication, teaching consent and overcoming bias. Ask students to make notes about patterns they see between characters, such as:
- Body language
- Amount of physical contact
- Facial expressions
- Amount of transparency and honesty in conversation
- Level of formality
- Vocal tone
Students can also note any reinforced stereotypes they see, and educators can take them through exercises to dispel and unpack them. It will push learners to unravel their opinions about harmful and inaccurate stereotypes or generalisations in the safe, low-stakes format of media commentary.
Develop a “Reading the Room” Log
Inspire students to think critically about their cross-cultural interactions by recording them in a journal. This is a safe, nonjudgmental place for them to reflect on classroom exercises and real-world conversations. They can ask questions, such as “Did I remember to ask consent before going in for a friendly hug?” or “Did my excited curiosity and frequent questions make them uncomfortable?”
These exercises compel students to practice self-awareness and also celebrate wins when they learn something about another culture and successfully implement those communication skills in real life. The journals are records of every student’s growth as they learn how to interpret nonverbal cues and find reasons to advocate for themselves.
Many educators have used the Curiosity, Attentiveness, Respect and Responsiveness, and Embodiment (CARE) model for authentic cultural lessons, and reflective journaling is one of the best ways to produce cultural humility and mindfulness about DEIB topics. If students are struggling to think about what to write, here are some prompts to get them started:
- Describe a time when someone’s tone did not match their body language.
- Write about a time you reacted to a surprise. If you surprised someone else with a different personality and culture with the same thing, do you think you would get the same reaction?
- Reflect on the cultural stereotypes we discussed in class today and why it is important to overcome them.
- Describe a behaviour that is normal to you and your family, such as giving handshakes to visitors. Research how other cultures would view this practise.
Cultivating Empathy and Agency in Student Communication Skills
Everyone can read the room, no matter who is in there. Teaching consent, cultural sensitivity and intersectional thinking is a nonnegotiable skill in the modern era. These techniques make nebulous concepts tangible for learners of all ages. Eventually, these intentional lessons will craft a respectful society where empathetic communication and consent always come first.
