Beyond Visibility: How Black Teachers in London Experience Mattering in Schools

Tara Elie portrait

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 this blog of the series on, Understanding the Experiences of Black Teachers in London: Why Mattering Matters, I draw together what the study reveals about how Black teachers in London experience mattering, and the conditions that appear to shape it. What became increasingly clear to me throughout the analysis is that mattering is not fixed or linear. It is continuously negotiated through everyday interactions, institutional structures, and relationships within schools. Across the data, mattering emerged as deeply subjective and relational (Elliott, 2009), while also closely aligning with Rosenberg’s (1985) conceptualisation of being both valued and adding value.

Representation

Representation emerged as one of the most significant themes, and I found this particularly compelling in how consistently participants linked it to purpose, identity, and responsibility. Many described their presence in schools as meaningful not only for themselves, but for Black students who rarely see themselves reflected in teaching roles.

Participants often spoke about being role models. This was not framed as symbolic representation, but as something tangible and influential in shaping aspiration and self-perception among Black pupils. In this sense, their presence in education was experienced as actively expanding what students believed was possible for them. This aligns with Dinkins and Thomas (2016), who emphasise the importance of Black educators as relatable figures for Black students.

At the same time, I noticed a clear tension within this theme. While representation was experienced positively and with pride, it also carried emotional responsibility. Some participants described feeling positioned as representative of all Black experiences, which aligns with Elliott’s (2009) notion that reliance on individuals can become burdensome. Representation therefore existed as both affirmation and pressure, rather than a straightforward positive experience.

Authenticity also played a central role. Participants described feeling a stronger sense of mattering when they were able to bring their full selves into the workplace, including aspects of culture, identity, and communication style. This resonates with Deci and Ryan’s Self-Determination Theory (1985), particularly the importance of autonomy and relatedness. Where authenticity was supported, participants described stronger belonging and professional confidence.

Voice was equally significant. I was struck by how emotionally charged it was when participants felt genuinely heard by leadership. For some, being listened to after extended periods of invisibility was described as transformative. This connects with Baumeister and Leary’s (1995) argument that belonging is a fundamental human need, and in this study, voice appeared to function as a direct pathway into that sense of belonging.

Racism

Racism emerged as the most consistent and destabilising factor across all accounts. Participants described a wide spectrum of experiences, ranging from subtle microaggressions to overtly racist incidents involving both colleagues and students.

A recurring issue was racialised stereotyping, particularly being labelled “aggressive” when expressing themselves assertively or professionally. Many participants experienced this as “tone policing”, where communication was reframed through a racialised lens. This significantly undermined their sense of professional legitimacy and fairness, aligning with Sabbagh and Schmitt’s (2016) work on perceived injustice, particularly in relation to respect, equality, and voice.

Workload and expectation also featured strongly. Several participants felt they were required to work harder than white colleagues in order to receive similar recognition or progression. This was often experienced as systemic rather than individual, suggesting structural inequities in how contribution is evaluated and rewarded.

Access to leadership was another key issue. Participants described perceptions that promotion pathways were more accessible to white colleagues, often shaped by informal networks and relational dynamics rather than transparent criteria. Wallace’s (2020) work is particularly relevant here in highlighting how progression can be influenced by institutional gatekeeping and unequal access to mentorship and sponsorship.

Another important theme was the expectation that Black teachers take responsibility for managing behavioural issues involving Black students. This was often unspoken but persistent, creating a form of racialised role allocation that extended beyond formal job descriptions and contributed to uneven professional burden.

What stood out most strongly for me was the emotional labour involved in responding to racism itself. Several participants described exhaustion linked to having to educate colleagues about racial bias. This aligns with Kohli and Pizarro’s (2016) discussion of burnout, particularly emotional depletion and reduced sense of accomplishment. In this context, racism functioned not only as discrimination, but also as a sustained drain on energy, identity, and professional resilience.

Reinforcement

Alongside these challenges, reinforcement emerged as a crucial counterbalance in shaping mattering.

Recognition from colleagues and leadership was highly valued, particularly when it was specific, sincere, and explicitly linked to contribution. Participants often described surprise when their work was acknowledged, which I found particularly revealing. This aligns with Ryan’s (1985) Self-Determination Theory, where unexpected positive feedback enhances intrinsic motivation and supports psychological growth.

However, the most consistent and emotionally significant reinforcement came from students. Nearly all participants described deeply meaningful relationships with pupils, including gratitude, affection, admiration, and long-term appreciation. These interactions were frequently described as central to their sense of purpose and professional identity, reinforcing Rosenberg’s (1985) notion of being both valued and adding value.

Parents and carers also contributed to this sense of reinforcement, particularly when they actively expressed appreciation or sought out individual teachers due to their perceived impact.

What became especially evident to me is that reinforcement and racism often coexisted. Participants frequently experienced affirmation in one domain, such as the classroom, while simultaneously experiencing devaluation within institutional structures. This duality appears central to understanding the complexity of mattering, which is neither stable nor uniformly distributed across contexts.

Overall, what this study reveals is that mattering for Black teachers in London is not a fixed state but a dynamic and continually negotiated experience shaped through representation, racism, and reinforcement.

Representation provides visibility, purpose, and pride, but can also generate emotional and professional responsibility. Racism consistently undermines mattering through inequity, stereotyping, restricted opportunity, and emotional labour. Reinforcement, particularly through relationships with students and recognition from others, plays a vital role in sustaining and restoring a sense of value and belonging.

Taken together, these findings suggest that mattering is not simply about being present within schools. It is about whether Black teachers are able to feel seen, heard, respected, and able to bring their full identities into their professional lives without penalty.


Supporting teachers with ADHD

Susi Waters portrait

Written by Susi Waters

Susi Waters, Operations Manager at Norfolk Research School; the Research Schools Network (RSN) Regional EDI Link (East of England and East Midlands); and Operations Manager and ITT Strategic Lead at the Julian Teaching School Hub.

ADHD, or Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, is a neurodevelopmental disorder that affects both children and adults.  The NHS estimates that, as of August 2025, 2.5m people in England have ADHD, with 1.76m of those being adults. ADHD is equally common across genders; however women and girls often go un- or mis-diagnosed due to a difference in the way ADHD tends to present in them, and late diagnosis in adulthood is not uncommon.

As teaching is a predominantly female profession (McShane and Sheppard, 2024), it is therefore unsurprising that a significant number of teachers may be recently diagnosed with ADHD and would like advice on how to manage it in the workplace.

ACAS tells us that being neurodivergent, including ADHD, often amounts to a disability under the Equality Act (2010), and therefore employers are obliged to make reasonable adjustments to remove or reduce the disadvantage faced by these individuals related to their neurodivergence. Schools are generally very happy to do this – but if you’re newly diagnosed and/or an early career teacher, how do you know what to ask for?

Signs and symptoms of ADHD can include:

  • Inattention
  • Restlessness
  • Impulsivity
  • Emotional dysregulation
  • Hyperfocus
  • Executive dysfunction
  • Motivational deficits (most often in children).

In teachers, having ADHD means that the daily pressures and challenges of teaching are amplified. Teachers with ADHD may struggle with organisation, time management, maintaining focus, and workload management. This can look like a teacher being easily distracted in lessons, or struggling to stay on track. Lesson planning and marking may take significantly longer than for neurotypical teachers. From NeuroLaunch: “Emotional regulation and impulse control also play a crucial role in the classroom. Teachers with ADHD may find it challenging to manage their reactions to disruptive behaviour or unexpected situations. The impulsivity associated with ADHD can sometimes lead to hasty decisions or comments that may require damage control later.”  

None of this means that people with ADHD are unsuited to teaching; in fact, the variety inherent in teaching and the constant interpersonal interactions make it particularly attractive to some. Hyperfocus is an amazing tool for creative lesson planning, and thinking divergently pushes innovation in the classroom. ADHD gives you amazing empathy to ‘invisible’ needs such as stimming or rejection sensitivity and neurodivergent staff are more likely to spot masking proxies for learning as well as being better able to support parents to advocate for their neurodivergent children.  The challenge is to harness your ADHD and make it work for you.

Before thinking about what reasonable adjustments would help, it’s worth ensuring that you’re setting yourself up for success: seeking appropriate medical and therapeutic care, practicing mindfulness or meditation, and regular exercise can all help manage symptoms. Learning to recognise triggers is also important for emotional regulation. You know yourself best, so find what works for you.

Embrace technology! The ADHD Workbook has a great list of useful tools, including time management apps, speech-to-text transcription, and digital calendars. Task management platforms such as Trello can also help in breaking down large or complex tasks into manageable chunks. NeuroLaunch also lists some “compensation strategies” such as sticking to a structured routine and using visual aids and reminders.

So let’s talk reasonable adjustments. Charlotte Forbes on LinkedIn has some great suggestions: 

  • Flexible working. Yes, of course, this is more difficult for teachers than for many other sectors, but flexible working can include taking PPA time at home for fewer distractions, or being given longer lead-in times for deadlines with regular reminders scheduled in.
  • Everything in writing! Written instructions, meeting agendas, conversations followed up via email and so on can really help.
  • Regular check ins – especially if you’re an ECT. This might look like a little extra mentor time, or shorter but more frequent catch ups with your Head of Department.
  • Being told about changes before they happen and being given context for impromptu meetings.
  • Clear lines of communication, whether email, Teams chat or similar, and no dropping into lessons with a quick verbal message.
  • Access to HR for policies on sickness and stress-related sick days, and extra support with conflict.
  • Access to quiet spaces, and noise-cancelling headphones.

If you’re attending CPD or training, it may help you to let the trainer or facilitator know how to can make sure you have everything you need to access the learning. This might include:

  • Sending you resources in advance.
  • Making a note not to cold call you.
  • If there is silent working at any point, using noise cancelling headphones.
  • Regular wandering-around breaks.

ADHD UK has a teachers group, you can join here.

The Julian Teaching School Hub has a Wellbeing page, where you can access more support and resources.


How Inclusive Is Your Workplace?

Hannah Wilson portrait

Written by Hannah Wilson

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

When we hear the word inclusion, many of us think about policies, legislation or equality training. While these are important, true inclusion is something much simpler – and much more powerful.

It is about how people experience your workplace every single day.

Do they feel welcome? Are they listened to? Can they contribute without fear of judgement? Do they believe they belong?

These questions matter because inclusion is not simply about meeting legal obligations; it is about creating an environment where people can perform at their best.

Research consistently shows that inclusive workplaces benefit from greater engagement, stronger collaboration, improved innovation and better staff retention. When people feel respected and valued, they are more likely to share ideas, solve problems and contribute positively to organisational success.

Yet inclusion is not achieved through good intentions alone.

Often, the greatest barriers are not deliberate acts of discrimination but everyday habits, assumptions and systems that unintentionally exclude people.

Think about your own workplace:

  • Who speaks most during meetings?
  • Are different communication styles welcomed?
  • Does everyone have equal opportunities to develop and progress?
  • Are recruitment processes truly inclusive?
  • Do policies reflect the diverse needs of today’s workforce?
  • Does everyone feel comfortable raising concerns or challenging ideas?

These questions encourage us to look beyond compliance and consider workplace culture.

One of the most valuable concepts we explore during training is that diversity and inclusion are not the same thing.

Diversity is about who is present…

Inclusion is about what happens once people arrive…

A diverse workforce without an inclusive culture can still leave individuals feeling unheard, overlooked or excluded. Inclusion requires conscious effort from everyone, not just leaders or HR professionals.

It is also important to remember that diversity is not always visible.

Many colleagues may be managing invisible disabilities, neurodivergence, long-term health conditions, caring responsibilities, mental health challenges, cultural differences or other experiences that shape how they engage with work. Creating inclusive environments means recognising that one size rarely fits all.

Fortunately, inclusion doesn’t always require large-scale organisational change.

Often, it is the small actions that make the biggest difference:

Listening with curiosity…

Using inclusive language…

Making meetings accessible…

Being open to flexible ways of working…

Inviting quieter voices into conversations…

Questioning assumptions before making decisions…

Taking time to learn from different perspectives…

Perhaps the most powerful question we can ask is:

Who might this decision work well for – and who might it unintentionally disadvantage?

Whether we are recruiting, designing services, communicating with customers or leading teams, this simple question helps us make more thoughtful and inclusive decisions.

Importantly, creating an inclusive workplace is not about getting everything right all the time.

We all have biases. We all make assumptions. We all make mistakes.

An inclusive culture is one where people are willing to listen, learn, reflect and adapt.

It is about replacing certainty with curiosity and recognising that inclusion is an ongoing journey rather than a destination.

Every organisation, regardless of size or sector, has opportunities to become more inclusive.

The question is not whether your workplace is perfect. The real question is: How inclusive is your workplace – and what is one thing you could do differently tomorrow?


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