What does diversity mean to you? What about cultural diversity? 

Often mentioned, usually at interviews where the interview panel will want you to know that you “know” about diversity. I would put diversity in the same bag as equality and equal opportunities. When I was a teacher, these words scared me. Not because I didn’t know what they meant, but because I couldn’t be sure that I was applying them to my delivery of the subjects that I was teaching. As I reflect on those early years, I know that I loved promoting difference – probably because as a black woman in a predominantly white world, I embraced difference. I have always loved any aspect of character that shows individuality in any shape or form and it may also answer why I love special educational needs pupils. I was a mainstream teacher before changing phase to SEND in 2008. I guess I thrive on the fact that despite difficulties, we can express our true selves; our true characters. Overcoming our difficulties is a strength and shows true resilience which is a value that I so admire. And we can bring this to any table we choose to come to.

I spoke at the #DiverseEd conference in Slough in January 2020 with @HeadsUp4HT and really enjoyed the set-up and the drive that came from meeting like-minded colleagues. There were a lot of groups and grassroots movements that I had not heard of before but there was something compelling about their missions and values that resonated with me. I came away from the conference pumped up and wondering how I could get more involved.

When lockdown took hold of our lives and all face-to-face meetings were on hold – I was informed that #DiverseEd would be a virtual event and asked if I would look at ‘Smashing Ceilings’. You may have heard of the ‘glass ceiling’ concept – defined as : “an unacknowledged barrier to advancement in a profession, especially affecting women and members of minorities”.  From my lens, I would go so far as to say that as black women in the workplace we often have ‘concrete ceilings’ to contend with.  The main difference being that at least you can SEE through glass and aspire for more – with concrete – that’s it!! This has been my experience. I have been let down, as we all are as we aspire to leadership positions, but for me it’s been very difficult to work out whether I was the wrong fit, or just plain wrong. When you add ethnicity into the mix – we could be here for a while, trying to work it out.

Cultural diversity is a form of appreciating the differences in individuals. The differences can be based on gender, age, sex, ethnicity, sexual orientation, and social status. Schools have realized the value in acquiring a diverse workforce but what is not so well promoted or encouraged is the opportunity to rise and in turn, steer the culture to embrace ALL. The stereotyping and prejudices, if unchallenged, contribute to a culture that can promote sameness and prevent the celebration of skills, abilities, and experiences.

My fellow speakers: Naomi Ward @naomi7444, Patrick Ottley-O’Connor @ottleyoconnor spoke of their approaches in how we can establish culture (see clip below). Hannah Jepson @Hannahjep also spoke in the same session (Session 3)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Q7RWmbKONo 

with me during Saturday’s virtual conference – #DiverseEd on Culture and Diversity – about Unconscious Bias: Recruitment and it really chimed with my own thoughts about how and why we recruit who we recruit. As a former Head of School, I was extensively involved in recruitment and always ensured that I fully considered candidates that weren’t anything like me – as Hannah stated “fit is important” – but it need not mean that I discounted potential employees that weren’t as I wanted. Like a jigsaw puzzle, we may have different shapes, but when we are placed together to make the bigger picture, no one worries about individual shapes, ONLY the bigger picture.

I believe that there is a lack of:

• comfortable, trusted strategic relationships
• positive strategic feedback
• opportunities to showcase breadth of skills and experience

If we don’t increase the amount of black and minority ethnic voices seen and heard at leadership and strategic levels, then how do we expect things to change?  How do we smash those ceilings, glass or otherwise? Change means being uncomfortable – and the challenge doesn’t need to be aggressive but there needs to be clarity in the outcome with a plan and milestones to ensure that we are on the way to achieving that plan. 

I am a big believer in action and we all have agency to make things happen. We are privileged in that respect – all of us. I’ve currently got the same excitement and passion bubbling up that I felt after the DiverseEd conference in January 2020. What I am aware of, in these post #BlackLivesMatters post #Covid-19 days, is that this is a REAL opportunity for change. A chance to do things differently. For too long we have said the same things and nothing has changed. We need allies, we need authenticity, we need curriculum reviews, we need visible leadership, we need programmes that enable our up-and-coming talent to remain in education and be the leaders of tomorrow, not become disillusioned as they are under-represented or oppressed again and again! We need the systems that already exist to be challenged to enable that change to take place. Yes – the conversations will be uncomfortable – but no one needs to get hurt! Let us LEARN from one another.

And….. my biggest take away from my session and indeed the conference itself, is that I would welcome a genuine level playing field.   Merit is the only currency that we should be utilising to enable us to progress.   Remember – “it’s difficult to be what you cannot see”.   

I have focused on diversity from my own lens but the beauty of #DiverseEd conferences is the inclusion of LGBT, disability, gender, allyship viewpoints, as well as ethnic minorities. It’s such an important conversation – and in the current climate we MUST keep talking; and turning our words into actions. #MyDiverseEdPledge is: to use my voice to lead from where I am and to support others so that they can challenge their understanding of diversity and Black perspectives. What’s yours?

“It’s not our differences that divide us. It is our inability to recognise, accept and celebrate those differences”. Audre Lorde

I have been busier than ever lately, which is a great problem to have, but as I was explaining to a group of school leaders this week, it’s also a sobering problem to have. Sobering because most of my work comes from supporting organisations who are embracing Diversity, Equity and Inclusion in the wake of the murder of George Floyd on May 25th 2020 in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

As I am going about my work, a refrain that repeats itself over and over is ‘lest we forget’. For most of us, ‘lest we forget’ has come to have meaning through commemorative war services, services honouring soldiers that have fought and died. However, the phrase, with biblical roots, is generally attributed to Rudyard Kipling’s usage in his poem ‘Recessional’.

It seems curious to have landed on this phrase, used to celebrate British imperial power and rue its demise by Kipling. Curious because I now use it with such de-colonising intent. But, the mind does strange things and perhaps, because I am an English teacher, I so often find myself with fragments of phrases echoing about the chamber of my mind with no direct realisation of the connections being made in there, the relevance to events past and present.

Inheritance, legacy and leaving the world in better shape than I found it are such important concepts for me. I feel grateful to my ancestors daily, seek to be a good ancestor as much as I can and work in ways that allow me to live out an ambition of leaving behind something ‘good’.

I cannot read ‘Dulce et Decorum Est’ without it bringing a lump to my throat. Who is not haunted by the final lines of the poem? Every single time I taught this poem the urgency of English teaching, of education and of creating a world in which our young were not sent to senseless deaths stirred me.

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est

Pro patria mori.

Who among us is not moved by the futility of youthful death articulated in Brooke’s ‘The Soldier’. With a boy of my own now, with young male cousins and nephews galore, imagining a past in which they were sent to a far off end is heart-breaking, and the urgency of creating a better future feels ever more important.

If I should die, think only this of me:

That there’s some corner of a foreign field

That is forever England. There shall be

In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;

A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,

Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam;

A body of England’s, breathing English air,

Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

‘Lest we forget’ comes to me when I deliver Diversity, Equity and Inclusion work because we must not keep churning out the mistakes of the past, we must not forget those that have died in senseless circumstances.

‘Lest we forget’ means that I punctuate my work with the people and the places of those whose lives we commemorate as we learn about the limitations of our humanity and commit to doing better. It means that we remember Stephen Lawrence, the black British teenager who was murdered on April 22nd 1993 in a knife attack in London by a group of his contemporaries. It means that we recognise a bus stop in Eltham, a small corner of South-East London where lies a richer meaning, a responsibility we all have to do better.

As educators the detail about Stephen Lawrence and the boys who murdered him are essential. On the day of Lawrence’s murder he had been at school, his murderers were also of school age. It is vital to my work that we anchor details like this and not allow ourselves the get-out clause of distant proximity, of hazy memory, of foggy facts. Not allow this to obscure the urgency of the work we all know we need to undertake. Work that will ensure that no teenager dies alone at a bus stop, no teenager leaves our school gates and commits such a heinous and hate-filled crime.

‘Lest we forget’ means we remember Bijan Ebrahimi, a disabled Iranian refugee murdered in Bristol on the July 14th 2013 by a man called Lee James. Lee James had been, but a 17-year-old boy when the hate-fuelled campaign against Ebrahimi had begun. Let’s not shy away from the detail and let’s be clear on the facts. Ebrahimi was beaten, dragged into the street and set alight to by a mob who had lost their minds. There is a corner of a street in Bristol where lies a richer meaning, a responsibility we all have to do better.

‘Lest we forget’ means we anchor our work to a deeper purpose. We commit to the individuals whose deaths should make for a future in which it never happens again. In the ambition, the scope, the reach of the work we engage in to tackle homophobic, transphobic and biphobic behaviour we remember Ian Baynham. We say his name. We compute the detail of the brutal attack of a 62-year-old gay man on September 25th 2009 in Trafalgar Square. We acknowledge that his attackers were of school-age at the time of the attack that led to his death. We commemorate his life in a small corner of Trafalgar Square,  acknowledging a richer meaning, a responsibility we all have to do better.

At the heart of Diversity, Equity and Inclusion work for me is a desire to be respectful enough to know who we remember and why. At a personal level, it’s about a past that stretches way back to times when my ancestors were enslaved, put on boats and then brutally put to work, my responsibility to them is to make the absolute most of my liberation. At a societal level, it’s about saying the names of the people who have given their lives needlessly, and collectively understanding what we want and need to do differently to create the kind of society we are all proud of. At an institutional level, it’s about being bold enough to give the lives of Stephen Lawrence, Bijan Ebrahimi, Ian Baynham and countless others meaning through the ambition of our work, our curriculum, our institutional cultures, our organisational structures and processes.

So, over the coming weeks and months, I urge you not to forget, not to get sloppy about who we remember, why we remember them and what our remembrance means for the future. I encourage you to take care and not slip into the laziness of statements like ‘when all the George Floyd stuff happened’. Remember, with care and attention to the details, the dates, the names and follow that golden thread of careful thought through to its manifestation in precise, detailed and luminary action in your work and your life.