From Silence to Story: How My Autistic Son Inspired a New Chapter in Inclusive Literacy
Written by Pamela Aculey
Pamela Aculey is an award-winning author, public speaker, and the founder of Just Like Me Books and MIXD Reality—the creators of the world’s first inclusive augmented reality picture book. Inspired by her autistic son Walter, Pamela is passionate about using storytelling and technology to create inclusive, interactive experiences that reflect the beautifully diverse ways children see and engage with the world. She is also a full-time carer and advocate for representation in education and beyond.
They say necessity is the mother of invention. But for me, motherhood itself sparked an invention that would not only change how my son reads, but how countless children see themselves in stories.
My journey with autism, storytelling, and technology began with my eldest son, Walter. A bright, beautiful mixed race boy who, in his early years, struggled to communicate verbally. Walter is autistic and was non-speaking until the age of 7. As a parent, nothing prepares you for the silence—especially when all you want is to hear your child say “Mummy.” But in that silence, I learned to listen differently. I began to see the world through Walter’s eyes: colourful, musical, expressive in ways that didn’t require words.
Books became a lifeline. But while reading to Walter, I noticed something glaringly absent—him. None of the characters looked like him. None moved, spoke, or communicated like him. Representation wasn’t just lacking; it was almost non-existent. I wasn’t just searching for stories; I was searching for mirrors.
And one day, in the silence, Walter showed me what connection could look like.
He had one particular book he returned to every single day. He’d scan the pages, then walk over and hand it to me—always open to the same page. He’d hum and flap the book gently in front of my face. I assumed he wanted me to read the story—again—for what felt like the tenth time that day. So, I would.
But then Walter would get upset. Irritated.
He’d snatch the book out of my hands and throw it to the floor.
And a few minutes later? He’d bring it back and start the whole process again.
I was confused. Frustrated. Heartbroken.
Until one day, I paused long enough to really look at the page he kept coming back to.
It was an image of a little boy drinking water.
Suddenly it hit me:
Walter wasn’t asking for a story.
He was trying to tell me he was thirsty.
That moment changed everything. My little boy, who didn’t use words, had found his own way to communicate. He didn’t need language—he needed connection.
That’s when the idea behind Just Like Me Books was born. I wanted to create stories that reflected children like Walter—not only in how they look, but in how they experience the world. Our debut title, Buster Finds His Beat, follows Buster, an autistic, music-loving mixed-heritage boy who communicates using beats, rhythm and music. Sound familiar? It should. Buster is inspired by Walter.
To bring the story to life in a way that resonated with children like him, I incorporated augmented reality (AR). I created an app where children can scan the pages and watch Buster dance, laugh, and play drums in 3D. For neurodivergent readers, this fusion of storytelling and sensory experience offers not only joy but accessibility.
Seeing themselves in stories is one thing. Interacting with them? That’s a whole new world.
This innovation became the foundation for MIXD Reality—a creative tech company I co-founded to explore how immersive technology can transform learning, reading, and communication. We now partner with educators, publishers, and brands to create AR-powered experiences across industries: from children’s books and emotional literacy tools to museums, healthcare, and financial literacy.
With nearly 1 in 7 people identifying as neurodivergent (NHS England), we need more than just good intentions—we need practical, inclusive resources. Traditional classroom tools often leave behind children who process the world differently. AR bridges this gap by turning passive reading into an interactive journey that supports diverse learning styles.
We are currently in the early stages of conducting our own research to explore how augmented reality can support autistic children aged 5–8. We are actively seeking partnerships with families and organisations to help us carry out this important work. If you would like to be part of this, please get in touch. Because innovation shouldn’t be reserved for the few—it should uplift the many.
I’ve watched Walter go from being non-speaking to now writing his own short stories—and talking all the time! He’s 11 now, and still beats on everything—tables, tubs, anything that makes a sound. But more importantly, he reads. Not because he has to, but because he wants to. And when he saw himself in Buster, he beamed.
That smile reminded me why I started this work in the first place.
We often talk about diversity and inclusion in terms of policy, but what about practice? Are our bookshelves inclusive? Are we designing content with all learning styles in mind? Are we creating mirrors and bridges?
My hope is that Just Like Me Books and MIXD Reality spark more questions, more conversations, and more creativity.
Because every child deserves to be the hero of their own story—and sometimes, all it takes is pausing long enough to really look at the page they’re holding.
BLAM UK BOOK: Global Black Narratives for the classroom: Vol 1 & 2
Written by Bettina Ogbomoide
Project Coordinator at BLAM UK (Black Learning Achievement and Mental Health UK). Passionate about Black studies, and dedicated to educating and exploring the cultures and histories of the African diaspora.
Too often, Black history is limited to the margins of the school calendar, and only acknowledged during Black History Month, which also normally tends to focus on specific narratives i.e. the transatlantic slave trade or the civil rights movement in America. This approach not only restricts the richness and diversity of Black experience, often excluding Black Britain altogether, but also squanders the opportunity to engage students with a fuller, more accurate version of global and British history.
At BLAM UK, we believe that Black history is not an add-on, but rather it is an integral part of understanding the world we live in. This is why we developed Global Black Narratives for the Classroom, a two-volume educational resource designed to facilitate primary school teachers to embed Black history, including British and global narratives throughout the academic year. Rooted in England’s National Curriculum, the books aim to save teacher’s time, boost their confidence and subject knowledge, and make it easy to teach global Black histories in a way that is accessible and inclusive.
Volume 1: Black Britain and Europe
The first volume focuses on the histories of Black communities in Britain and across Europe. It offers creative lesson plans for themes ranging from early Black presence in Tudor England to 20th-century activism and cultural movements. By highlighting figures such as Claudia Jones, Olive Morris, and Josephine Baker, the book challenges educators to expand their understanding of British and European history beyond narrow Eurocentric, male-domoinated, traditional narratives.
Volume 2: Africa, the Americas, and the Caribbean
The second volume provides a broader global context. It provides a deep dive into African histories before colonialism, the cultural traditions of the Caribbean, and the layered experiences of Afro-descendant communities across the Americas. Through guided activities and thought-provoking content, students are encouraged to explore the global interconnectedness of Black narratives and resistance.
Both volumes are filled with practical tools which include lesson plans, engaging worksheets and creative activities, making it easier for teachers to deliver high-quality lessons with confidence and cultural sensitivity.
At its core, Global Black Narratives for the Classroom equips educators with the toolkit they need to centre Black perspectives in the curriculum, not just occasionally or tokenistically, but consistently and meaningfully. By doing so, we not only enhance the learning experience for all students, but we also create a more inclusive and culturally relevant and responsive educational environment.
Teachers who are seeking to counter the narrow, divisive rhetoric we are seeing increase, or are committed to anti-racist pedagogy will find in these books an invitation for reflection and the opportunity to increase your subject knowledge. All whilst encouraging critical thinking, and opening up space for alternative perspectives and more diverse stories to be told in the classroom.
You can purchase Global Black Narratives Volumes 1 & 2 from independent, Black-owned bookstores Book Love and Afrori Books, as well as Amazon, and Routledge.
Please see the links below to purchase:
Book Love (Black-owned anti-racist bookseller)
Vol 1: Global Black Narratives for the Classroom Africa, the Americas and the Caribbean
Vol 2: Global Black Narratives for the Classroom: Britain and Europe
Afrori Books (Black-owned independent book shop)
Brighthelm Church & Community Centre, Brighton and Hove, Brighton BN1 1YD
Vol 1: Global Black Narratives for the Classroom: Black Britain and Europe –
Vol 2: Global Black Narratives for the Classroom: Africa, the Americas and the Caribbean
Routledge
Vol 1: Global Black Narratives for the Classroom: Black Britain and Europe
Vol 2: Global Black Narratives for the Classroom: Africa, the Americas and the Caribbean
Amazon
Vol 1: Global Black Narratives for the Classroom: Black Britain and Europe
Vol 2: Global Black Narratives for the Classroom: Africa, the Americas and the Caribbean
Order our book and spread the word!
BLAM UK is here to transform the way we think about Black narratives, one classroom at a time!
Designing Neurodivergent-Friendly Classrooms: Rethinking Inclusion from the Inside Out
Written by Sana Siddiq
Sana Siddiq is an educator, coach, and creator of The Elevate Framework™, guiding schools to lead with empathy, equity, and emotional safety. Her work centres neurodivergent inclusion, systemic transformation, and holistic development—supporting educators to unlearn outdated systems and build compassionate, conscious spaces where every learner can thrive.
As the educational landscape evolves, the call for inclusive classrooms has grown louder. But inclusion, when viewed through a neurotypical lens, often amounts to little more than accommodation. True inclusion must be co-designed with, not just for, neurodivergent learners—and that demands a radical reimagining of the systems, assumptions, and environments we teach within.
A Paradigm Shift: From “Fixing the Child” to Rethinking the System
Traditional classroom models are built on industrial-era expectations of standardisation, control, and passive compliance. These models were never designed for neurodivergent minds—and expecting children with ADHD, autism, sensory sensitivities, or anxiety to thrive in such spaces without reconfiguration is not just misguided, it’s unjust.
Instead of asking: How can we make this child fit the classroom? we must ask: How can we make the classroom fit the child?
This isn’t just semantics—it’s a shift in power, responsibility, and educational ethos. Inclusion is not the work of putting ramps in place for those who can’t walk the stairs. It’s the work of redesigning the building altogether.
What Does a Neurodivergent-Friendly Classroom Actually Look Like?
- Sensory-Conscious Spaces
Sensory overwhelm is one of the most commonly misunderstood barriers to learning. Yet classrooms are often visually cluttered, fluorescent-lit, noisy environments. We must move beyond tokenistic “calm corners” and instead build entire spaces that are:
- Predictable in layout
- Low-arousal in aesthetic (muted tones, warm lighting)
- Flexible in sensory offerings (noise-cancelling headphones, wiggle stools, movement options)
Rather than viewing sensory needs as “special,” we can normalise and embed these supports universally, benefiting all learners.
- Regulation as a Collective Culture
Many schools still use behaviourist models—token charts, clip systems, sanctions—that confuse dysregulation with defiance. But neuroscience tells us that the developing brain cannot access executive functioning when in fight, flight, or freeze. What a dysregulated child needs is not a consequence—it’s co-regulation.
Neurodivergent-friendly classrooms:
- Teach and model regulation proactively
- Offer regular body breaks, movement prompts, and access to regulation tools
- Embed emotional check-ins as a non-negotiable part of the day
- Universal Design for Learning (UDL)
UDL isn’t about creating “special resources.” It’s a mindset that recognises there is no one-size-fits-all learner.
This means:
- Offering multiple means of engagement (movement-based, visual, auditory)
- Supporting alternative ways of showing knowledge (video, drawing, mind maps, voice recordings)
- Designing flexible tasks from the outset, rather than retrofitting support
- Agency and Autonomy as Core Pedagogy
Many neurodivergent children feel disempowered by school systems that reward obedience over authenticity. Reclaiming agency is not just empowering—it’s protective.
You might:
- Involve students in co-creating classroom agreements
- Offer opt-in group work, or self-paced learning tasks
- Provide choices in how, where, and when work is completed
Thought Leadership: We Need a Cultural Shift, Not a Checklist
This work is not about box-ticking or surface-level strategies. It is about dismantling ableist structures baked into our educational systems.
We must move away from the deficit narrative that views neurodivergence as a problem to be solved. Instead, we need to centre neurodivergent voices, lived experience, and expertise in how classrooms are shaped. Ask yourself:
- Who are our systems currently built for?
- Whose needs are framed as “challenging”?
- Who has to work harder just to belong?
The answers to these questions reveal more about our values than any mission statement.
Leadership Implications: Inclusion Is a Leadership Practice
School leaders must lead this shift with courage. Neurodivergent-friendly practice must be embedded into:
- Curriculum design
- CPD and teacher training
- Safeguarding and wellbeing policies
- Recruitment, voice, and governance
Inclusion cannot rest on the shoulders of one passionate SENDCo or learning support assistant. It must be championed, funded, and normalised from the top down.
In Summary
Designing neurodivergent-friendly classrooms is not about making tweaks to traditional practice. It’s about interrogating the very foundations of what we call “normal” in education. It’s about rejecting the idea that some learners are “too much,” and instead building a world that is wide enough to hold all ways of being.
Because the truth is, what works for neurodivergent children works better for all children: more agency, more flexibility, more emotional safety, more belonging.
And that’s not just inclusion—that’s transformation.
Why Black History Is More Than Just a Month: Embedding Legacy, Learning and Leadership All Year Round
Written by Ellisha Soanes
Ellisha is a multi award-winning Equality, Diversity, and Inclusion Specialist. Ellisha worked as Director of Equality Diversity Inclusion for several colleges and adult education in East Anglia, and as a lecturer teaching EDI has worked in the education sector for the over 10 years, and in the health and social care/ Public Health sector for over 20 years. Ellisha works as an international consultant and collaborates with businesses and community projects to empower others and create new opportunities through leadership. Ellisha has worked closely with the Department of Education, and continues to do so on creating changes, sitting at parliamentary boards. She has been featured in global news journals as column writer and papers.
As we mark five years since the murder of George Floyd, the question many of us in education and leadership circles are still grappling with is this: how do we move from reactive to proactive when it comes to race, equity, and inclusion? How do we ensure that Black history is not confined to a single month in October, but becomes a golden thread woven through every aspect of our curriculum, policies, and culture?
The answer lies not in performative gestures, but in intentional action.
Black history is British history, world history, and human history. It doesn’t start or end with the transatlantic slave trade or the U.S. civil rights movement — though those are key chapters. But if that’s all we teach, what message does that send to our Black students and to other students and colleagues? That our legacy begins with oppression?
We must ask better questions and dig deeper. Were we not inventors, pioneers, warriors, scholars? Black Tudors existed. Black soldiers fought in both World Wars. Ancient Kemet — known today as Egypt — led the world in medicine, astronomy, and education. Our contributions span centuries and continents.
So how can educators ensure that Black history is embedded all year round, not just dusted off for October? Here are three practical steps based on my experience:
- Invest in Training and Development – Begin With Yourself
One of the most common questions I ask educators is: Were you taught Black history in school? For most, the answer is no — or if yes, only slavery and civil rights.
This is not just a gap in knowledge. It’s a gap in identity, empathy, and understanding.
You can’t teach what you don’t know. That’s why anti-racism training is vital. But it’s not enough to attend a workshop and tick a box. True transformation starts with self-reflection. What are your biases? What stories are missing from your own education?
Before you try to lead young people, work with your own teams first. Create spaces where educators can learn, unlearn, and build confidence in delivering diverse content. Challenge the assumption that Black history is “extra” – it’s essential.
- Appoint EDI Ambassadors at Every Level
Embedding diversity is not the responsibility of the one Black staff member, the LGBTQ+ colleague, or someone with a disability. It must be everyone’s job.
That’s why I always recommend appointing Equality, Diversity, and Inclusion (EDI) ambassadors across all levels — from your governing board (yes, even your governors should include an EDI champion) to your reception team.
These ambassadors shouldn’t just represent communities — they should lead change. Help shape policy, organise events, challenge bias, and ensure that inclusive practice is not a side project but a core priority.
By having representation across your organisation, you ensure accountability — and create role models who are visible, vocal, and valued.
- Adopt Student-Led Approaches: Celebrate ‘Heroes on Your Doorstep’
Young people don’t just want to be taught — they want to co-create.
Some of our most impactful work has come from listening to what students want to see in their curriculum. For example, in our public services courses, students highlighted local Black heroes — people whose stories are often forgotten, but who made a lasting impact.
One such figure is Derrick Bobbington Thomas, one of the first Black servicemen from the Windrush generation in Suffolk. His story, shared by students, was a powerful reminder of the richness of local history.
Another initiative included working with Wooden Roots, an African drumming group deeply rooted in African history and culture. Not only did they bring energy and rhythm to our college campuses, but they also played a role in the Black Panther movie — showcasing how African heritage resonates on global stages. https://www.voice-online.co.uk/news/uk-news/2024/06/05/black-panther-african-drumming-company-to-offer-bursaries-for-underrepresented-groups/
Partnering with local charities, community groups, and Windrush societies is a brilliant way to fill in the historical gaps. They offer stories, speakers, and resources that textbooks don’t. And they help students see that Black history is not something far away — it’s here, in our towns, schools, and families, as author and collobarting with young people and communities I’m proud to say linking with your community, helped create black history interactive workbook used across schools in the east of the region and beyond. Elimu little book of knowledge- find your free copy here: https://www.aspireblacksuffolk.org.uk/_files/ugd/63af3a_5af8d55d89244cde90d0a8387a0aaa82.pdf
Nelson Mandela once said, “Education is the most powerful weapon you can use to change the world.” That change doesn’t happen overnight — but it begins with honest conversations, committed people, and consistent actions.
Black history isn’t just for October. It’s for every subject, every classroom, and every child.
When we expand the narrative, we empower minds. When we recognise the full spectrum of Black excellence, and when we embed this knowledge into the very fabric of our schools and organisations, we don’t just tick boxes — we transform lives.
So let’s not wait for a headline or a month. Let’s lead with purpose, educate with passion, and celebrate Black history — every day of the year.
Check out these articles to help you find your own heroes on your doorstep..
How do you plan good lessons on homosexuality when resources only tell half the story? A call for proper representation in religious education textbooks
Written by Jonny Tridgell
Jonny began his career as a secondary school teacher in 2009 and has since been a head of sixth form, head of department and lead practitioner for EDI. He has also worked in teacher education as a mentor, curriculum tutor and general tutor on the University of Oxford PGCE. He completed his MSc in Education (Digital and Social Change) at Oxford in 2024. He is currently working as Equality, Diversity & Inclusion Data and Insights Officer at Jesus College, Oxford, alongside roles as a teacher, teacher educator and researcher.
Imagine you are planning a GCSE lesson on Christian beliefs about homosexuality, but you don’t feel confident about the topic. You might have a theology degree and a PGCE in religious education, but have never really studied queer theology, or maybe you are one of the many non-specialists delivering these lessons in the UK (Orchard, 2024). You’re not sure where to begin planning your lesson. Do you do a debate with the students? Perhaps you could do some textual study, but then which texts? You know that Christianity has often the basis for homophobia, but you also don’t want to suggest to your students that Christianity is prejudiced or bad. So, what do you do next?
You might look for shared resources made by a colleague or look online. You might use AI. One solution would be to use a textbook or revision guide endorsed by your exam board. Jackson et al (2010) found that many teachers used textbooks just for that and in my experience as an educator and researcher, many teachers (including me), still do. Textbooks are helpful for pitching, but also, geared as many are to exams, provide a great deal of reassurance. However, there is a risk to this, because RE textbooks in the UK tend to sanitise and essentialise Christian beliefs about homosexuality and to present these through a Eurocentric lens.
In a recent paper for The British Journal of RE (Tridgell, 2025), I found that textbooks represent Christian approaches to homosexuality in a way that has been sanitised, excising those churches that promote explicitly anti-LGBTQ+ views. These textbooks also generally excluded African Christianities and churches, portraying African Christians as recipients of aid or evangelism only, not as theologians. One reason for this might be a desire to promote community cohesion by only presenting socially acceptable or “positive” views of Christianity as real Christianity (see arguments made by Smith et al, 2018), even if this presents a view of Christianity that is false. The Eurocentric approach here is perhaps even more troubling, given the way this might exclude those whose experience of Christianity is not reflected in these textbooks.
As a gay RE teacher who studied Christian approaches to homosexuality, I can plan these lessons carefully and accurately, and I feel confident about balancing the need for academic integrity with keeping students (and myself) safe in the classroom. My years teaching about Christian attitudes to homosexuality have taught me hard lessons about framing; in my view, it is always best to treat this as a theology lesson, rather than an ethics one – that is, thoughtfully examining different Christian views across the breadth of the religion but never debating whether it is okay to be LGBTQ+ or if homophobia and transphobia are allowed. Importantly, I am not trying to criticise those who lack this confidence or this experience – I understand why someone might reach for a textbook to help plan this lesson – but I am critical of publishers who put out resources that fail to properly help with this planning. RE/RS teachers – especially those who have other specialisms – need proper support and guidance about what to teach and how to teach it. In short, RS/RE textbooks should:
- Include the full range of Christian views of homosexuality, including those that advocate for conversion therapy or other forms of anti-LGBTQ+ violence
- Include Christianities (both anti-LGBTQ+ churches and those that are affirming, along with those in between) from across the world, including Africa across all areas of Christian life.
- Recognise the inherent “messiness” of religion, and that belonging to a denomination does not mean someone’s personal beliefs necessarily fully align with its official teachings
- Frame lessons on LGBTQ+ people through theology rather than ethics; it is not safe to debate the existence of LGBTQ+ people nor is it reasonable to ask whether Christianity as a whole is homophobic; better to evaluate how a text is being used, for example, or ask why churches might have different views.
If you are the teacher I described, I would advocate caution and some reflection on whether the resource you are using really reflects the full story. If you are a textbook publisher or academic resource-maker, I hope this serves to call you in; community cohesion requires us to do epistemic justice (Fricker, 2003) to all those in our community – it is not served by pretending the world is not as it is. After all, how can we champion LGBTQ+ liberation and decolonisation if we only tell half the story?
Jonny’s article “Sanitised, essentialised and Eurocentric: an analysis of the (mis)representation of Christian beliefs about homosexuality and African Christianity in English RE textbooks” has been published Open Access here.
Nurturing Student Growth
Written by Rachida Dahman
Rachida Dahman is an international educator, a language and literature teacher, and an educational innovator. She started her career in Germany as a teacher trainer advocating the importance of relationships above academics. She then moved to Luxembourg where she teaches German language and literature classes to middle and high school students. She is an award-winning poet, co-author of the best-selling book, ATLAS DER ENTSCHEIDER Entscheiden wie die Profis- Dynamik, Komplexität und Stress meistern.
As educators, we often encounter students who challenge the structures and expectations imposed upon them. These students, who may not fit neatly into standardized molds, compel us to reconsider how we approach learning and behavior. Much like many of our students, there are times when we, too, long to respond with greater patience, understanding, and freedom from ingrained patterns. The complexities, emotions, and individuality of each student are not hindrances but crucial elements of a deeper, more meaningful educational experience. It is essential for us, as educators, to defend and embrace these qualities, even in a world increasingly driven by simplification and conformity.
The Role of Schools
Our schools find themselves in a profound dilemma, and this is reflected daily in their operations. What they have lost in recent years is not only method but also mindset: the opportunity for true engagement, for respectful dialogue between teacher and learner, has in many places been replaced by a culture of acceleration. With the introduction of tablets, the human counterpart—the teacher—has been increasingly replaced by interfaces, overstimulation, and self-directed project work. Teachers recede into the background. Not because they are less important, but because the space for relational presence has eroded. And yet this is precisely what children need: a true counterpart. A voice that explains, resists, supports—and yes, sometimes confounds. A presence against which they can push and, in doing so, grow. Whether in the classroom or at home. Learning is not mere data processing. It is a dialogical process, one that requires friction, attention, and relationship. And yet, feelings continue to be perceived as disruptions rather than as language.
A Case in Point: Misophonia
Imagine this: a student, age 9, repeatedly leaves the classroom. The teacher, exasperated, records “disruptive behavior” in the class register. Classmates shake their heads. This student often weeps, quietly, in secret. The cause? The sound of chalk scraping the blackboard causes them physical pain. So does the click of pens. Months later, they are diagnosed with misophonia, a neurological condition in which the brain processes certain everyday noises as stressors, akin to danger signals. This is not a matter of upbringing, but biology. This student stands for countless children whose nervous systems function differently. Many are highly sensitive, open to stimuli, easily overwhelmed. The resulting tension often manifests physically or emotionally, not as defiance, but as a cry for help. Here lies the crux: what we so often interpret as problematic behavior is, in truth, a sign of overwhelm, not rebellion.
In our classrooms sit thousands of children like this student, for whom chalk squeaks are torment. And rather than support, they are given labels: troublemaker, dreamer, problematic child. Yet these children are not deviations, they are indicators of where the system fails.
I recall a moment that encapsulates this dilemma. During a school conference, a senior staff member said to me, “Emotions have no place here (in school).” That sentence not only reveals a deep-rooted fear of the living, but also the difficulty of defending humanity in institutional spaces. Such notions are not merely outdated; they actively obstruct progress. Not just the development of our children, but of the entire system. Because emotions are not obstacles to learning, they are the very foundation of any authentic educational relationship. Without them, we are left with administration, not education.
Supporting Sensory-Sensitive Students
- Shift from labeling to listening: If a student repeatedly leaves the room, the behavior is often marked as “disruptive.” Ask instead, What is this child experiencing internally?
- Identify triggers: Sounds like clicking pens or scraping chairs may be physically painful for misophonic students. Notice patterns and name them with the student, not over them.
- Create safety zones: Offer quiet corners or “calm stations,”not as punishment, but as places for self-regulation and agency.
- Use validating language: Say things like, “I can see this is hard for you. Let’s find a way together.” This reframes the classroom as a space of relationship, not control.
- Collaborate with caregivers and professionals: Sensory processing differences are not discipline problems. While diagnosis may help, daily support begins with you.
When these realities are ignored, schools become sites of deprivation and of subtle violence. But when they are recognized, classrooms become spaces of repair.
Classrooms as Emotional Architectures
School can serve, not only as a site of academic instruction, but as an emotional architecture, a structured space where feelings are not only expressed but entangled, displaced, and ultimately transformed through relational dynamics. Some examples are:
- Parent–teacher storytelling sessions where experiences of conflict or success are jointly narrated and reflected upon.
- Classroom-based emotional literacy routines that help children identify and navigate inner states through language, metaphor, or ritual.
- Collaborative care circles (a variation of restorative practices) that involve students, teachers, and caregivers in discussing emotional challenges without the pressure of “resolution,” but with a focus on recognition and resonance.
- These are low-threshold practices that offer space for reflection and allow children to develop a sense of emotional efficacy and belonging.
The Inner Work of Resistance
In our times, it is of paramount importance to teach children something that often goes unspoken, that the most dangerous path is the one of blind conformity—of falling for vast oversimplifications, whether of a person, a problem, or a system. Children sense when truth is being reduced to something convenient. They feel it deeply, what I would call emotional negative labor which is the quiet, consuming work of learning how to navigate, fit into, or subtly subvert the unspoken rules of a family system or institutional structure. They may not articulate it, but they intuit it—these inner negotiations, the silent effort to belong without betraying the self. Unlike emotional intelligence, which thrives in open, resonant settings, negative emotional labor arises in constricted systems where feelings must be concealed, redirected, or distorted to ensure belonging or avoid conflict. It is not defiance, it is adaptation under pressure. Examples from school contexts include:
- A student smiles and nods, but never speaks in class, afraid their real questions might be “too much.”
- A child forces themselves to endure loud group work although their nervous system feels overwhelmed, then withdraws for hours afterward.
- A teen, praised for being “easygoing,” has learned to suppress discomfort because previous complaints were labeled dramatic or disrespectful.
- A sensitive learner, after weeks of masking sensory distress (e.g., from noise, lights, or proximity), begins showing “unexplained” somatic symptoms like headaches or nausea.
- A student consistently performs well academically, yet feels depleted and detached, school is a stage, not a relationship.
Naming this invisible labor is the first step toward rehumanizing education. To support them, we must cultivate not obedience but discernment. We must help them understand that systems can be questioned, and that complexity is not a threat, but a form of truth.
What Children Truly Need
If we want students to engage with the world compassionately and consciously, we must create spaces where their inner lives are welcomed not in the distant future, but now. Students do not need rigid templates; they need genuine encounters. They need safety and understanding, especially within the school environment, which must be the protective space we offer in a world that is increasingly loud, fast, and uncertain. When that space feels unstable or unwelcoming, it is not the job of schools to control, but to understand. We must become places where inner life matters. Educators, as the key figures in the daily experience of students, play a central role in this transformation. Education does not begin with a set curriculum; it begins with how we listen, how we perceive students’ worlds, and how we respond to their behaviors. We must be attuned to their complexities and defend the space they need to grow authentically. What is needed is not further fine tuning of performance-based curricula, but a broader distribution of reasonable and vital behaviors that focus on equipping students with practical, adaptable behaviors that serve them in a rapidly changing world.
Inclusive leadership - a thought for caregivers
Written by Clare Haly
With a passion for truly inclusive teaching and learning, Clare has a background in education spanning 20 years. During this time, she has led at a senior level in both secondary and primary settings, improving whole school teaching and learning, cross-curricular literacy and staff development, and most recently Inclusion and SEND.
‘It is just so lonely. The playground, work, the other parents, the judgement and assumptions…It’s exhausting, and yes lonely…’
I am not the first person to comment on the complexities of flexible working. Thankfully voices are being raised that are far louder than mine, and there are some welcome shifts where understanding is beginning to seep in, that perhaps the ‘privilege’ of flexible working may actually be more of a necessity.
I get the challenge for leaders in education, I have lived it. We are teachers, we love our jobs, our vocation, our classes, our children. As if the Leadership do not have enough to think about. Children need excellent teachers in front of them, they require, and deserve consistency. But, and there is a but, it is well documented that teachers are leaving in droves, and this is not just because of the intense pressures of the job itself, but because caregiving responsibilities also really matter.
‘Family comes first’
There is no silver bullet or magic formula to help those people who find themselves in complex situations managing multiple caregiving roles. And this is not about the stereotype of the ‘working mum trying to have it all’. In the case referenced above, the man I speak of is grieving his wife who died suddenly. He has two sons, one aged 4 and the other just 6 months. This father also has an ageing parent, who is also bereaved and living with Parkinson’s disease. The logistical struggle is obvious. The emotional one is enormous. This man is also excellent at his job. One he cannot do well because of inflexibility at work. Imagine if his place of work was one of welcome and joy and a place where he could thrive within the time he could give knowing that that was enough. Instead he is rushed, stressed, apologetic, clock watching, anxious. Is this the premise for excellent output at work? What would the impact be of such a person in front of a class?
Part time does not mean part competent. Working flexibly does not mean working below par. Flexible working can be done well in schools. But it is yet to be the norm. It takes commitment, forward planning, clever recruitment, budgeting, compassion and a willingness to learn. It demands brave leadership with a trust in one’s staff and in oneself. But when successful, the outcomes are overwhelmingly positive. When teachers feel invested in, trusted, valued, they thrive. And the impact of a thriving, calm, indeed happy teacher on their pupils is not to be underestimated. You don’t need me to tell you that.
What I am questioning is how many of us truly practise this duty of care to well-being outside of the appraisal system and think holistically about the people that make our schools what they are, and the circumstances they live with outside of school. The amount of time I hear the well meaning phrases ‘family first’, ‘you must look after yourself’ – but in reality, as a caregiver, how is this meant to become your truth?
‘Middle years’
In Caroline Criado-Perez’ Invisible Women she points out that women in particular, are penalised socially and financially because of the assumed caregiving roles they carry. In our ‘middle years’ particularly, many of us as women, find ourselves not only grappling with the joys and complexities of raising children, but also tending to changing circumstances of family members, for those who become unwell, or the challenges that older age in particular can bring. So this is not about the balance of having children and having a career. This is about having a sense of empathy for the challenges staff face that pull them away from the classroom because they physically cannot be at the helm, rigidly, all the time. We are losing excellent, creative, inspirational practitioners because of a lack of flexibility.
The impact of stress on our educational colleagues and peers is well documented. The job is challenging enough without the guilt, pressure and constant stream of apology or sense of atonement that manifests itself while trying to juggle multiple adult responsibilities. I applaud those companies, institutions and yes, schools moving to acknowledge that life is not linear and that hours cannot always be rigid. But in education there is still some way to go.
Care packages and school clubs of course are invaluable and teachers that are also parents and/or caregivers are of course grateful for the support these services offer. But flexible working responds to more than logistics. Flexible working allows for improved wellbeing, not just time management: togetherness within whatever relationship has the need – in all phases of the caregiver spectrum, time for a neurodivergent child, an elderly parent, an unwell spouse; reflection, respite.
Being a caregiver should not be an alternative to a career in education, and too often teachers have to choose. I believe though that we have enough good educational leaders who have the creativity and courage to find a way to allow, indeed welcome, brilliant teachers back into school flexibly. Again: Part time does not mean part competent, flexible does not mean below par.
If we are to reach our ambition for a truly diverse edu-community then we must always be human first in our approach to how our schools are run. A truly inclusive school will empower their staff through flexible working where it is needed. As ever, it is all too easy to assume we know someone’s story. We must continue to look beyond appearances, there is always more than meets the eye.
My Experience as a Speaker at the Diverse Educators Conference in Scotland: A Step Towards Change
Written by Sadia Hussain-Şavuk
Sadia Hussain-Şavuk, originally a Biology teacher, is now a Diversity, Equality and Inclusion Lead working predominantly with schools within the independent sector providing teacher training, pupil workshops and consultancy in her main area of anti-racism. In addition to this she sits on a number of boards including the BSA/IELA Inclusion Advisory Board and is co-chair of the Curriculum Reforms workstream of the Anti-Racism in Education Programme.
In February, I had the incredible honour of speaking at the inaugural Diverse Educators Conference in Scotland. As the first event of its kind, the conference was a bold and inspiring step towards promoting inclusivity, representation, and meaningful change within education. The atmosphere was charged with energy, optimism, and a deep-seated belief in the power of education to shape a better future for all.
The Power of Positivity
One of the most striking things about the conference was the positivity and passion that the participants brought to the table. Educators from across Scotland, with diverse backgrounds and experiences, gathered together not only to share their ideas but to spark action. There was a sense of unity and purpose that made the event feel more like a movement than a typical conference. As I stood before such an engaged audience, it was incredibly reassuring to see how committed these educators were to making positive changes in their schools, classrooms, and communities. Whether it was promoting inclusivity in the curriculum, advocating for equitable opportunities, or fostering a more diverse learning environment, it was clear that the educators in the room were not just talking about change – they were living it. It’s moments like these that remind me why I became an educator in the first place: to make a difference. And seeing so many others who share that same drive was truly inspiring.
The Challenges We Still Face
Despite the immense positivity, there was an undercurrent of concern that stayed with me throughout the conference. While we celebrated the progress that has been made and the steps that are being taken to make education more inclusive, we cannot ignore the slow pace of change. It is difficult to not feel a sense of frustration when you consider how far we still have to go. Although there are pockets of progress, systemic barriers persist. In many schools, diverse perspectives are still sidelined or tokenised. Too often, young people with marginalised identities still face barriers to success, whether that be in terms of representation, access to resources, or the recognition of their unique challenges. As educators, we know that it’s not enough to simply raise awareness. The real work lies in creating long-term, sustainable change. But when progress is slow, it feels as though we are failing the very students we are meant to serve. The young people of today – those who will shape our tomorrow – are waiting for us to do better. And while I am hopeful for the future, it’s hard to ignore the gap between where we are now and where we need to be.
A Call to Action
The Diverse Educators Conference served as both a celebration of what’s been achieved and a reminder of the work that remains to be done. I left the event with a renewed sense of purpose, but also a deeper understanding of the urgent need for change. As educators, we must keep pushing the boundaries of what is possible. We must continue to challenge the status quo and demand that every child, regardless of their background, has access to a truly equitable education. We cannot afford to wait for change to happen on its own – we must be the ones to make it happen. The diversity, passion, and commitment I witnessed at the conference filled me with hope, but I also know that it will take all of us – working together, side by side – to ensure that the next generation of students can thrive in an educational system that fully supports their needs and potential. In the end, the Diverse Educators Conference wasn’t just a moment of celebration – it was a call to action. It was a reminder that our work is far from over, and that every step we take towards inclusivity and equity is a step closer to a brighter future for all. Let’s not rest until that future becomes a reality.
Championing Diversity Through Literature: Our Pioneering Journey with Lit in Colour
Written by Gemma Hathaway
EDI Trust Lead for Inspire Education Trust, Assistant Headteacher at Blue Coat School Coventry.
At Blue Coat School Coventry, our partnership with Penguin and Pearson through the Lit in Colour project has been transformational. It has reimagined how we engage with English literature, ensuring that the stories we teach truly reflect the diversity of the world our students live in.
As the EDI Trust Lead (Inspire Education Trust), I have been privileged to work alongside the English department in this pioneering project. It’s been about more than simply adding new books to the curriculum — it’s been about fostering a deeper, more authentic approach to inclusion. Through this project, we have embraced the belief that literature has the power to validate identities, open minds, and create communities rooted in understanding and empathy.
Choosing The Empress
As part of Lit in Colour, we made the bold decision to teach Tanika Gupta’s powerful book The Empress at GCSE. Set against the backdrop of British colonial history, the play explores the relationships between Queen Victoria, Abdul Karim, and Rani Das, a young ayah from India.
Choosing The Empress was a courageous move — it challenged traditional literary choices and brought forward voices that have too often been marginalised. As a school community, we knew this would be a bold step, but one that was absolutely necessary.
Shaped by Broader Conversations
Our journey has not happened in isolation. The work of organisations like Diverse Educators, Equaliteach, and the ASCL EDI sub-groups has played a huge part in supporting us to approach this work with authenticity and integrity. Through dialogue, training, and collaboration, we’ve deepened our understanding that genuine change requires courage, reflection, and a commitment to ongoing learning. We have proudly embraced the idea that it’s okay to feel uncomfortable at times — because that discomfort signals that something meaningful is shifting.
Recognition and Gratitude
It was an incredible honour when Pearson recognised Blue Coat School as a Bronze Winner in the ‘Making a Difference’ category of their national awards. This accolade celebrates schools that have gone above and beyond in driving positive change — and it felt like a powerful acknowledgement of the journey we have been on.
We are so grateful to Pearson, Penguin, and the Lit in Colour team for their partnership and encouragement. Their support has allowed us to be bold, to innovate, and to centre pupil voice in every aspect of decision making.
Looking Ahead
But this is only the beginning. We are excited about the ripple effect this work is already creating — not just within our own school, but across the wider education community.
We are currently working with Tanika Gupta to explore adapting The Empress for a live stage production, offering students an even richer, more immersive experience. It’s another way to bring these powerful stories to life, allowing young people to step into the characters’ shoes and truly understand their journeys.
In May, we will be attending a national celebration event in London, where schools from across the country will gather to continue raising the voices of authors who deserve a platform within our curriculums. We hope to encourage other Multi-Academy Trusts (MATs) and schools to review their English curriculums with bravery and vision — to be bold in asking: Whose stories are we telling? And whose voices are we still missing?
At Blue Coat, we believe that every student deserves to see themselves in the stories they study. Through projects like Lit in Colour, we are building a future where every voice matters — and where literature truly belongs to us all.
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Distorted Mirrors, Fogged Windows: A Call for Deeper Representation in Education
Written by Tamanna Abdul-Karim
Tamanna Abdul-Karim is Assistant Headteacher responsible for Literacy, Equality and Diversity in an inner city school in Birmingham. She has completed the NPQLL and Masters in Educational Leadership and Management /Level 7 Apprenticeship with the National College of Education. She is an English teacher at heart and her desire to create a sense of equality and justice motivates her. It is through education, she hopes to create impact and leave a meaningful legacy.
The concept of “mirrors, windows and sliding doors,” introduced by Dr. Rudine Sims Bishop, has become a foundational framework in conversations around diversity in children’s literature and multicultural education. In her metaphor, mirrors reflect readers’ own identities and lived experiences, windows offer insights into lives different from their own, and sliding doors allow readers to step into those other worlds, fostering deeper engagement and understanding.
This framework is not only relevant in literature — it has transformative potential across all aspects of school life. From curriculum design and cultural representation to enrichment opportunities and even staff recruitment, it offers a way to embed inclusion and equity into the very fabric of educational settings. When embraced authentically, it cultivates a culture where every student is seen, valued, and empowered.
However, if not approached thoughtfully, these mirrors and windows can distort reality. They can perpetuate stereotypes, invisibilise complexity, and contribute to feelings of alienation, shame, or disconnection — particularly for students from minoritised backgrounds.
A Personal Reflection: Distorted Mirrors, Fogged Windows
As a child of Bangladeshi heritage growing up in inner-city Birmingham in the 1990s, my school experience offered only two narratives about my country of origin: that it was poor and that it flooded. While these facts are not untrue, they painted a one-dimensional picture that deeply distorted both my self-image and my understanding of my heritage.
The mirror I was presented with reflected famine-stricken children, submerged villages, and chaotic streets. The window offered a view steeped in deficit — one that suggested my background was something to be downplayed, or even disowned. As a result, I internalised a sense of shame. I learned to code-switch early: Bengali at home, English at school. I adapted the way I spoke, behaved, even the way I ate — compartmentalising parts of my identity to belong.
What my schooling failed to reveal was a far richer, more complex history. I didn’t learn that before colonial rule, Bengal was one of the most prosperous regions in the world — a hub of culture, trade, and innovation. I wasn’t taught about the globally coveted Jamdani textiles, or that Dhaka was once one of the busiest ports on earth. There was no mention of how British colonial policies contributed to devastating famines, or how Bangladesh achieved independence through extraordinary resilience and sacrifice.
This erasure had consequences. It shaped how I saw myself — and how I believed others saw me. It taught me that some stories are celebrated, while others are sidelined.
Who Holds the Mirror? Who Builds the Frame?
This experience highlights a deeper issue: representation is not just about inclusion, but about how people, places, and histories are portrayed — and who gets to do the portraying.
We must ask: Who is holding up the mirror? Whose perspective shapes the window? What frames are we using to present narratives of identity, culture, and heritage?
It is not enough to simply provide visibility. We must examine the structures — the frames and lenses — through which these representations are filtered. If the frame itself is biased or incomplete, then the images it presents will be equally flawed.
A Call to Educators: From Representation to Reimagination
Educators carry immense responsibility. We are not only curators of knowledge — we are architects of perception. Every decision we make about curriculum, literature, resources, or enrichment shapes the mirrors and windows we offer to our students.
This work requires deep reflection. We must interrogate our own biases, challenge inherited narratives, and resist the temptation to present simplified or tokenistic views of cultures and communities. We need to move beyond surface-level inclusion to truly equitable representation.
This begins with unlearning — with a willingness to revisit what we’ve been taught, and to seek out the histories, voices, and perspectives that have long been marginalised.
Because when children see themselves reflected fully — in all their richness and complexity — they stand taller. And when they’re given a window into the full humanity of others, they grow kinder, more curious, and more connected.
Let us hold up better mirrors. Let us open clearer windows. Let us build sliding doors that do not just invite exploration, but also affirm belonging.