Role Models

Two faces of a coin

Written by Umara Qureshi

Umara Qureshi is a passionate and values-driven Head of School with a proven track record of securing strong outcomes across a range of settings—including the successful launch of a start-up school. Deeply committed to equity, inclusion, and social justice, she believes in the transformative power of education to change lives. Umara leads with integrity, fosters cultures of high expectation and belonging, and champions staff development, pupil voice, and ambitious opportunities for all learners.

Growing up as a British ethnic minority girl in south east England in the 1990s, I was oblivious to my dual nationality, my ethnicity being a minority and that I essentially lived in two different worlds.

And it was with great ease that I transitioned from one world to the other. I was able to behave according to the expectations of the community I found myself in and it was absolutely natural to adapt etiquette and lifestyle. Being able to adjust and adapt into two contrasting cultures and societies was automatic. It was absolutely normal to have two identities. It was and is so easy to switch either on or off or fuse the two together. And I believe that is the beauty of having two faces to a coin.

During adolescence, I was lucky enough to be around peers from a similar background. My culture was accepted. As teenagers, I explored and shared cultures with my friends from different ethnic backgrounds and we celebrated our identities. It was normal for us to be different. I think that’s the beauty of growing up in Luton. As I grew up, there were more cultures I was exposed to. It was lovely just meeting them and getting to know them, and sharing our cultures and celebrating our differences.

The ease of social and cultural fluidity became a burden as the issue of identity and the social pressure increased into adulthood. And I don’t think that’s inevitable. I think it’s perceptive. Social media is the greatest platform for people to express their identity issues and exposure to such material festers insecurity. Movies like ‘Bend It Like Beckham ‘ exacerbate identity crises as they focus on the dilemmas that not belonging to one culture can create and portray it as a hindrance. It loudly suggests that holding onto traditional culture will hold girls back from fantastic careers. This is untrue and an injustice to ethnic minorities. Unknowingly you develop a perception of having the same inferiority that others express, regardless of your own experiences and successes. I only realised how I feel about these portrayals when I watched it with my daughter and saw the seeds of identity crisis being sown with adult eyes. The need to impress, be like others around and the desire to not be different becomes prevalent and feeds the identity issue.

I was lucky enough to have many role models giving me the confidence to continue celebrating my ethnicity, nationality and culture but I met lots of people from the same background as me, who weren’t proud of it and who didn’t like it. I even know people who say that they have no ethnicity and they don’t consider themselves to have any ethnicity. I can’t pretend that I didn’t feel the burden and pressure too. The pressure to be the same as others puts doubts in your mind and it makes you think that you’ve drawn the short straw because you face challenges around your identity. Feeling as though you don’t fit in with people around you and you are looking at one particular group and wondering why you couldn’t have just been like them so that you didn’t have to face these challenges. However, I believe that we’re very lucky to have two sides. The beauty of being British Asian, is that you’ve got a double identity, you’re not two halves. I think that’s looking at the glass being half empty, when in fact, the glass is doubly full.

The greatest assumption that people make is that all British people lead the same lifestyle and that’s not true. Within British communities, individuals do not all do the same things. And there is not an expectation for every British person to fit a stereotypical, specific lifestyle to be accepted or successful. I believe that this is the biggest misconception. Even if you do not do things in the same way as others around you it does not hinder you in leading a successful life.

The key points for me are that we have additional lifestyle choices, lifestyle events, skills, languages, culture, processes, emotions, personal family links and social attributes stemming from our ethnic background that enhance us as people and do not limit us.

We have our ethnic background and we also have a British background. We can pick, choose, fuse and innovate. So we’ve got more to our lives, not less. Having these two identities has doubled our life experiences, not halved it. We’re not torn between two worlds, we are spread across two worlds. Not everyone has this option. It is an existence to celebrate, not to be conflicted about. We shouldn’t be conflicted. We should recognise that we do have more to offer. We have a lot more to offer as we’re always steering the way on this newly paved pathway and balancing the vast knowledge, experience, pleasures, perks, broad mindedness, inclusivity and diversity. We need to recognise the potential that we have. Stop being a coin with two faces, embrace your potential and become three dimensional.

We have greater potential being multi-faceted. Having this rich ethnic / nationality is a combination that makes our life doubly wholesome.

The empty deserts sun scorched surface

In the moonlight is tormented by a cold menace

How blissful the union of the sun and moon could be

The immense respite and relief it could bring

The vibrance of the butterfly is unknown in the cocoon

Emergence from confinement allows the beauty to bloom

How proud, bold and brave it has to be

Its display and its presence makes the natural world sing

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-suffolk-64482737

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..

https://feweek.co.uk/ellisha-soanes-the-aocs-edi-guru/

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.

Reimagining School Leadership: Diversity as a Catalyst for Transformation

Written by Krystian McInnis

Krystian McInnis is a Religious Education consultant, advisor, and researcher specialising in decolonising and diversifying Religious Education. With a career that spans the public, private, and charity sectors, he brings extensive national and international experience in curriculum diversification and decolonisation. As the Co-Founder of Reimagining Education, Krystian is dedicated to creating a more inclusive and equitable educational system where everyone feels seen, heard, and that they belong.

The conversation around diversity in education often focuses on students, but one of the most powerful avenues for change lies in rethinking the governance structures that steer the educational experience. School governing boards are not just responsible for overseeing budgets and policies; they shape the very culture and ethos of a school or trust. In an increasingly diverse world, the importance of creating governing boards that reflect the community’s broad spectrum of experiences cannot be overstated.

As the UK’s demographics continue to evolve, it’s crucial that school governing bodies mirror the diversity of the student populations they serve. However, too often, governing boards remain stagnant, with leadership teams failing to represent the multifaceted identities of their school communities. This lack of representation impacts not only the policies implemented but also the approach to leadership and the school culture itself.

The Case for Diverse Governance

The need for diversity on school governing boards goes far beyond a simple call for fair representation. It is about creating governance structures capable of addressing systemic challenges, championing inclusive practices, and ensuring equitable educational opportunities for all students. A governing board composed of individuals with varying cultural, racial, and socioeconomic backgrounds brings diverse perspectives that enrich the decision-making process. As George (2022) notes, diverse leadership fosters innovation, empathy, and policy relevance, qualities that are essential for navigating today’s complex educational landscape.

Research also points to the tangible benefits of diverse boards. Carter (2021) highlights how cultural awareness among board members directly impacts policy priorities and curriculum content, leading to a more inclusive school culture. When governing bodies mirror the student population, they are better equipped to address the unique needs of all learners, from ensuring cultural sensitivity to promoting inclusive teaching practices.

Begum (2020) emphasises that diversity on governing boards isn’t just about policy changes but about student engagement and motivation too. When students see their identities reflected in the leadership, they feel a greater sense of belonging, which directly impacts their academic performance. Moreover, when parents and community members see themselves represented, trust and engagement between the school and its broader community grow, resulting in stronger partnerships that benefit everyone.

Reimagining Leadership for a Modern Education System

The impact of diverse school boards extends beyond the student body to the staff and the broader school community. A diverse governing board sets the tone for inclusive hiring practices and supports the development of a workforce that reflects the diversity of the students it serves. UK school governance has long been dominated by a small group of individuals with limited diversity. It’s time to break free from outdated models and embrace a more inclusive, adaptable leadership structure that can respond to the evolving needs of a multicultural society.

Reimagining leadership means moving away from traditional, hierarchical structures and creating space for a broader range of voices. This isn’t just about “ticking boxes”, it’s about recognising that a more diverse leadership team brings unique lived experiences that allow for a deeper understanding of the challenges faced by students and staff alike. Schools that adopt this mindset create an environment that is flexible, innovative, and, most importantly, inclusive.

From Recruitment to Retention: Building an Inclusive Governance Model

Recruiting diverse members for school governing boards is an essential first step, but it’s far from sufficient. Schools must also invest in ongoing training and support to ensure these members are prepared to be effective contributors. Too often, once new members are appointed, the assumption is that the job is done. In reality however, the work is just beginning. Schools must rethink their induction processes, ensuring that new governors receive the necessary training to navigate the complexities of modern, multicultural educational systems.

I would suggest therefore, this includes tailored training on cultural competency, anti-racism, and inclusive leadership, which are essential to support not only the school community but also the board members themselves. Furthermore, schools can benefit from building collaborative networks with community organisations and support systems, expanding the resources available to both staff and students. These networks help enrich the educational experience, provide additional resources for families, and strengthen ties between the school and the wider community.

Moreover, tracking diversity metrics is also a critical component of this work. Schools must be intentional about gathering and using data on ethnicity, gender, socioeconomic status, and disability. This data should not be collected for the sake of numbers but should serve as a tool to inform decisions, address gaps, and ensure all voices are heard. Accountability is key to ensuring that diversity is not just a buzzword but a sustained, meaningful practice that guides decision-making at every level of governance.

Towards a Future of Inclusive Governance

The path to inclusive governance requires commitment, not only in diversifying the membership of school governing boards but in ensuring that diversity is embedded in every aspect of the governance process. When school boards truly reflect the communities they serve, students, parents, and community members are more likely to feel engaged and invested in the school’s success. Diversity in governance is not just a “nice-to-have”; it is essential to the development of a school system that is truly inclusive and capable of addressing the needs of all its stakeholders.

The journey towards inclusive governance may be challenging, but the rewards are immense. Schools with diverse governing boards are better positioned to create environments where every student feels valued, engaged, and empowered to succeed. Therefore, as we look to the future of school governance, we must ask ourselves:

How can we ensure that our governing boards are truly representative of the communities they serve, in ways that go beyond numbers to reflect the richness of experience and perspective?
What steps can schools take to dismantle the barriers that prevent underrepresented groups from accessing leadership roles in governance?
How can we move beyond viewing diversity as a “nice-to-have” and recognise it as an essential driver of student success, community engagement, and educational equity?

References

Begum, H. (2020). The Importance of Representation in School Leadership.

Carter, J. (2021). The Role of Cultural Competency in Educational Leadership.

George, R. (2022). Reforming Leadership: The Shift Towards Inclusive Governance.

Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Belonging in Leadership: Shaping the Future of the Teaching Workforce

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.

In today’s educational landscape, fostering diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging (DEIB) feels essential for creating a supportive and effective teaching workforce that reflects the lived experiences of the students we serve. This blog post offers some thoughts on the importance of DEIB in educational leadership and highlights the challenges and opportunities for improvement.

Understanding Intersectionality and Privilege in Leadership

One of the key considerations in promoting DEIB in education is recognising intersectionality — the overlapping and interconnected nature of social categorisations such as race and ethnicity, gender, disability, and socioeconomic status. Leadership roles in education have historically been dominated by white cisgender individuals without disabilities, but there’s a growing call for more inclusive representation.

Many of us are familiar with the concept of “checking our privilege,” which can sometimes trigger defensiveness. It’s helpful to remember that, in this context, “privilege” refers to an absence of disadvantage. Having “white privilege” doesn’t equate to guaranteed success; it means that one’s skin colour hasn’t posed societal barriers.

Chris Hildrew, a headteacher in Somerset, articulates this experience well:
“I am usually in the majority. I joke about how I have the privilege full house: White. Male. English. Straight. Cisgender. Middle class. […] When I speak, people listen. They always have. I expect them to.“

Data from Edurio(2021) and NFER (2024) reveal that the representation of non-white educators, disabled individuals, and LGBTQIA+ educators remains low in leadership positions. Addressing these disparities calls for thoughtful recruitment, retention, and career development strategies.

The Role of ITT Recruitment in Teacher Diversity

Recruiting a diverse teaching workforce starts with how we market initial teacher training (ITT) programmes. While people of colour are overrepresented among applicants for ITT, they are significantly underrepresented in the teaching workforce overall. In fact, 60% of schools in England had an all-white teaching staff in 2021 – 22, with 86% having an all-white senior leadership team.

Research by Dr. Gabriella Beckles-Raymond (2020) underlines the importance of targeted recruitment strategies aimed at attracting African, Caribbean, and Asian teachers. Schools and training providers might benefit from adopting inclusive messaging and outreach initiatives to encourage individuals from underrepresented backgrounds to explore teaching careers.

Recruitment should be thoughtful. For instance, we could consider:

Do providers offer pre-application support, like explaining the English school system to those who didn’t grow up here?
Are interview processes truly inclusive? Do they provide interview questions in advance or offer online options?
Is the interview panel diverse in terms of race, gender, and age?

Making sure that trainee teachers have the right support means addressing barriers that can impede career progression. Access to mentorship, leadership training, and workplace policies that foster inclusion are all important aspects to think about.

Making Teaching a Sustainable Career for All

For many educators, especially those from marginalised groups, remaining in the profession long-term can be tough. Research from BERA (2019) on LGBTQIA+ teachers and the “Missing Mothers” project (2024) highlights how workplace culture, lack of support, and discrimination can push talented educators away from the profession.

To encourage sustainability in teaching careers, schools should implement policies that accommodate diverse needs, such as:

Support for teachers going through menopause.
Flexible work arrangements for primary caregivers.

Anti-discrimination policies that protect neurodivergent and LGBTQIA+ individuals.

Leadership: Breaking Barriers and Creating Opportunities

Leadership in education needs to evolve to better reflect the communities it serves. Disparities persist; for instance, men are twice as likely to take on leadership positions as women, even though women comprise the majority of the teaching workforce. Gaps remain in representation among racial and ethnic minorities, disabled individuals, and LGBTQIA+ professionals.

Educational leaders can play a significant role in advocating for equity by:

Sponsoring and mentoring diverse talent.
Implementing transparent hiring and promotion practices.
Encouraging conversations about privilege and systemic barriers.
Revisiting senior leadership recruitment processes to ensure job descriptions and interview processes don’t unintentionally place women, disabled individuals, or caregivers at a disadvantage.

Moving Forward

We should ask ourselves: are we really setting up all teachers to enjoy a sustainable and fulfilling career?

Rethinking our approach to leadership is key — not just at senior levels but also in shaping the next generation of educators. There are alternative pathways to leadership in education beyond headteacher roles, such as Teaching School Hubs, Research Schools, and ITT leadership. These roles often offer flexibility, hybrid options, and meaningful opportunities to affect educational policy.

Ultimately, if we don’t act, the next generation of teachers will mirror those who currently remain in the system. Without deliberate attention and change, we risk perpetuating a cycle where leadership remains uniform. However, by embracing diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging, we have the potential to create a teaching workforce where all educators feel valued and every child sees themselves reflected in their role models.

To cultivate a more inclusive educational system, leaders should commit to ongoing education and implementing best practices. By embracing these principles, we can nurture a teaching workforce where diversity is celebrated, equity is upheld, inclusion is practised, and belonging is experienced by all. The future of education rests on leaders willing to challenge the status quo and promote DEIB at every level.

This blog is a summary of a session that Susi delivered as part of Derby Research School’s Change Champions conference in autumn 2024; it forms part of the RSN and Norfolk Research School’s ongoing work around EDI and developing diverse voices.

All sources and recommended reading can be found here and you can watch the full session here.

What can we learn about masculinity and misogyny from the Netflix drama 'Adolescence'?

Written by Bold Voices

Bold Voices is an award-winning social enterprise preparing and empowering school communities to recognise and tackle gender inequality and gender-based violence through the delivery of educational talks, workshops, training and resources for young people, teachers and parents.

Originally published here: https://www.boldvoices.co.uk/blog/2025/3/20/what-can-we-learn-about-masculinity-and-misogyny-from-the-netflix-drama-adolescence

On March 13 Adolescence premiered on Netflix, a week on and the show has a 98% rating on Rotten Tomatoes and has sent waves across media, starting conversations about themes of masculinity, the ‘manosphere’, incel culture and gender-based violence more widely. It is a show that has driven home the fear of what happens when harmful attitudes and beliefs develop into extreme violence.

If you’re looking to understand some of the key terms used in the series take a read of this article first: https://www.standard.co.uk/lifestyle/andrew-tate-incel-meaning-adolescence-netflix-b1217106.html

The question of ‘why’ runs throughout the four-part series. What made this 13 year old boy brutally stab and murder his school mate, Katie. Where did his behaviour come from? Was it the ‘masculinity’ modelled by his father? A generally kind man who displays a couple of emotional and physical outbursts throughout the show (including physically intimidating and handling a child who vandalised his work van)? Was it his friends at school who ultimately provided him with the murder weapon? Was it the misogyny influencers and their ideas? Or the social media sites platforming these influencers and offering young people the impunity which allows them to say harmful and destructive things to and about each other?

Throughout the show we are trying to understand if Jamie is a good kid at heart who was ultimately misguided and has done something devastating, but out of character. Or whether he is a bad kid that has been able to manipulate and hide his darkness from his parents, and even us as viewers. But then again how bad of a kid can you really be with planet wallpaper and stickers of tiny astronauts? These minor and seemingly unremarkable, but ultimately essential, details about Jamie’s room make up the final scenes of this powerful show. They are a reminder that Jamie could be any young boy in any family. It is just how unremarkable he is as a character that makes this story so poignant.

So what themes about masculinity, and adolescence, can we draw out from the show?

Masculinity, the ‘manosphere’ and ‘incel’ communities

Jamie is a boy who we come to understand has been spending time online, getting drawn into ‘manosphere’ and ‘incel’ communities. During the second episode that takes a look at Jamie’s school, we learn about the “call to action by the manosphere”, the meaning behind ‘red pills’ and ‘blue pills’ and the 80/20 rule (that 80% of women are attracted to 20% of men).

“Red pill is like I see the truth, it’s a call to action by the manosphere. Which is where the 100 comes in, the 80/20 rule. 80% of women are attracted to 20% of men. Women, you must trick them because you will never get them in a normal way… she’s saying he’s an Incel dad” – Episode 2 | 29:50 – 31:00

When we hear from Jamie about this, he acknowledges that he knows about these ideas and that “he had a look but didn’t like it” although in talking about the 80/20 rule he says “I do think they’re right about that though”.

The writer, Jack Thorne, is very honest about the fact that through his research he realised that “there was a logic to this and how they see the world”. It is through Thorne’s vulnerability in admitting this that we are reminded of an uncomfortable truth, that the attitudes and beliefs displayed by many of these online forums and communities are attractive to boys and young men and resonate with a vulnerability they actually feel.

In the third episode Jamie is asked about what he thinks about men, about masculinity. In particular, he’s asked about his dad and grandad, what he thinks about them and what type of men they are. We get insights into the stereotypes that pervade about masculinity; his dad as a hard worker who provides for his family, who can get angry and lose his temper, who loves his wife and is good to women, but doesn’t have any female friends. None of this is positioned as ‘good’ or ‘bad’, but it holds a mirror up to the expectations we have of men and masculinity that continue to frame a ‘real man’ as someone who is physically and emotionally strong and dominant, who protects and provides for loved ones and who sees women as objects of love and affection, but not necessarily giving space for relationships to women that exist outside of caregiver, nurturer or romantic partner.

These questions are vital, and they connect back to the extreme views many boys and young men are consuming online. Rhetoric that is based on the inherent idea that a ‘real man’ doesn’t show vulnerability or weakness, protects and provides for those around him, is successful at ‘getting women’, and gains status through money, physical strength, women and material markers of success such as fast cars and displays of wealth.

Jamie couldn’t necessarily clearly articulate what makes someone ‘a man’ but he knew exactly what makes someone ‘not manly’ and his visceral rejection of those ideas were far more natural for him to display, when asked if he was friends with women he says “no” and “I’m not a twt though*”. His disdain for feminine traits and femininity is far clearer than his ‘love’ for ‘manliness’, a nuance that is powerfully captured in the show.

Femininity, objectification, power and misogyny

Not only do we get insight into how Jamie feels about himself, we are able to understand a little of how he views girls and women. The fact that he sees girls as objects and that viewing explicit images of girls that he knows (and girls and women he doesn’t know) is not something that he questions; when asked about whether he thinks the girls would be happy about him seeing explicit images of them he responds, “everyone else did”. The normalisation of girls as objects, and the non-consensual sharing and viewing of explicit images of girls, is so normal it is not worth denying or lying about.

It becomes further apparent that Jamie’s relationship to girls is far from healthy. He lies about having had sexual experiences with girls, he shrugs off the fact that he doesn’t have any friends that are girls, when asked about whether he was attracted to Katie after seeing an explicit image of her he makes an objectifying and dismissive comment about her body, saying, “no” and that “she was flat”. Jamie articulates a desire to have a girlfriend however he doesn’t seem able to articulate, or even understand, what that dynamic might look like aside from him owning or receiving sexual gratification or pleasure from a girlfriend. In the fourth episode we are presented with a stark contrast to this when Jamie’s parents are reminiscing about their first date as 13 year olds at the school disco, we hear about teenagers in the first moments of genuine connection, something that feels completely inaccessible to Jamie.

Despite answering “no” to the question of whether he feels powerful viewing explicit images of girls he knows, there are subtler insights into how Jamie feels about power and women. In one moment he stands over the psychologist and shouts in her face, a male member of staff comes to the door but she indicates that she’s okay. In response, Jamie says “what was that? hey? what the fk was that? signalling him away like a fking queen yeah?”. He is angry and riled up when faced with a woman in control.

We also get insight when Jamie reveals the impact that rejection has on him. We hear that Jamie had previously asked Katie out to the fair but that she wasn’t interested and said no to him. Although he insists multiple times that he did not “fancy” her and that he was not attracted to Katie because she’s not “his type”, Jamie shares that he assumed she would be feeling weak after explicit images of her had been shared round the school. Jamie wanted to take advantage of this vulnerability and ask her out, which meant when she rejected him, he was left feeling all the more insulted and angry.

“I just thought she might be weak after all that, cus everyone was calling her a slag or flat or whatever so I thought if she was that weak she might like me. It’s clever, don’t you think. I said I was sorry and that the guy who shared her picture was a wanker and that I’d take her to the fair if she liked… she just laughed and said – I’m not that desperate.” – Episode 3 | 42:00 – 44:00

A culture of misogyny and gender-based violence

A common reaction I’ve heard from parents and adults in response to Adolescence is fear. In particular, a fear that is centred around the online world and the harmful content that children and teenagers may be consuming without us realising. While this fear is incredibly valid and understandable, we must also be wary of not letting this fear distract us from the roots of this problem that exist far beyond the internet and the communities found there.

It is in the subtler moments in the show that we see these roots and an acknowledgement that it isn’t just the online world that led to Jamie’s actions, it is a wider ‘culture’ of gender inequality:

Jamie does not address his mum or sister at all – exclusively reaching for the support and validation of his father.
Jamie implies that having female friends makes someone a “twat”.
Jamie exaggerates and lies about having had sexual experiences with girls to the psychologist and then immediately takes this back and reveals the true extent of those sexual experiences.
Jamie feels confident enough to shout and scare the female psychologist, someone in a position of authority who is at least 15 years his senior.
Jamie shares his awareness of his dads disappointment/shame at the fact that he wasn’t ‘sporty’.
The school teacher only introduces the male police officer and then has to quickly introduce the female police officer when she realises her omission a few seconds later.
The treatment of female staff members in the school where we hear male students shouting “Shut up miss!”
The response to Ryan after he is punched by Jade (Katie’s best friend) in the playground – when another student says “You just got banged by a girl you sausage”.
The way the female psychologist is made to feel uncomfortable by the male CCTV operator.

What happens if we watch the show without focusing on investigating the crime itself, but instead, understanding the culture all around it? The show perfectly presents the subtleness of gender stereotypes and gender attitudes that are pervasive in society. How they are shaping the way we talk to and about each other based on gender, what we expect from ourselves and each other based on gender and how we treat ourselves and others when those expectations are not fulfilled.

Adolescence confronts us with the truth that acts of gender-based violence are not committed by ‘bad apples’. Jamie is a 13 year old child who has been indoctrinated and who has had gender-based violence normalised and even glorified. There are moments that we feel deep empathy for Jamie and moments where we are scared of him, moments that ranged from the casualness with which he displayed misogynistic attitudes to the outbursts of anger and rage. But Adolescence raises the questions rather than providing the answers. The answers lie in the communities around young people coming together to prioritise education that gets to the root of the issue and addresses the gender stereotypes and attitudes that seem harmless in isolation, but together contribute to a culture that normalises gender-based violence and misogyny.

Questions to start conversations based on Adolescence:

Why is being able to get girls or female attention so important to being seen as ‘manly’?
Are all young boys as likely to be influenced by these messages as each other? If not – why?
When Jamie calls himself “ugly” we get an insight into how he views himself and his self-esteem, how does this connect to his actions?
We know many of these ideas are consumed online, where else do we learn these ideas?
Why did the boy who received the photo of Katie spread it round? What did he gain by doing this?
Why did Jamie think Katie was “easier to get” after the photos were leaked? How do you feel about that?
What did Jamie feel when Katie rejected him? Why might he have felt that way?

Resources and places to learn more about these issues:

Toolkit: School of Sexuality Education – ‘A Look Into the Incel Movement: A Guide to Tackling Online Cultures of Misogyny for Schools, Colleges and Universities’

Book: Laura Bates – Men Who Hate Women

Ted Talk: Jackson Katz at TEDxFiDiWomen – ‘Violence against women—it’s a men’s issue’

Why Every Child Deserves to Hear Their Own Song

Written by Matthew Dix

Matthew Dix is a primary school teacher of 17 years. He continues to work as a teacher whilst working as a primary reading consultant across Nottinghamshire. He is the Founder of resource website Manic Street Teachers and has recently launched 'Musician of the Month' to create a culture of musical appreciation and understanding across schools, with a focus on diversity and inclusion.

Growing up, music wasn’t just background noise – it was how I made sense of the world. It was my mum playing the piano, it was watching her dance to ABBA and playing, of all things, a mandolin! It was my dad blasting heavy metal one minute and Vivaldi the next. Nothing quite says ‘peaceful Sunday morning’ like Iron Maiden shaking the windows!

As I reached adolescence, my heroes ranged from Tupac Shakur to Freddie Mercury, from John Lennon to Annie Lennox. Following their lives taught me that struggles were universal and at the end of a struggle, there can still be success. Behind every composition, every lyric, every guitar solo was a person with a story – often one of resilience against all odds.

Music took centre stage when I formed an indie band in the early 2000s. It wrote songs, often with the children’s help, for primary school subjects when I began my career as a teacher. It was a focus of mine when I created the music resources for ‘Manic Street Teachers’. Music has always been in the foreground of whatever I do.

A decade ago, I took a job in an inner-city school in Nottingham with 98% of children having English as an additional language. In fact, there were 52 different languages spoken in total. And yet, the music curriculum offered very few mirrors of themselves or windows to other worlds. A colleague and I decided to introduce a new musician every month in the hope of engaging children who seemed vacant during singing assemblies, and often unable to discuss and share their likes and dislikes in music lessons.

It wasn’t until we chose Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan as a musician one month that parents started to leave emails, children started to talk and a buzz started to make its way through school. I remember a child telling me that their parents listened to him at home. We shared his life, his trials and tribulations, his achievements and videos of his performances. Children could explain his words and what they meant. They were fascinated to learn that he had come to England in 1985 and brought Qawwali music (a form of Sufi Islamic devotional singing originating in India) with him. Children finally saw themselves and their families in our curriculum.

👉 Free Sample (Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan) – sign in required

It got us thinking. What if a girl thought that she could never be a classical musician because she looked nothing like Mozart, Beethoven or Bach? Well, we created resources all about Florence Price, whose compositions were forgotten until, just 16 years ago, when a whole collection of her work was rediscovered in a dilapidated house on the outskirts of St. Anne, Illinois.

What about a child who believes music is impossible with a disability? We shared Stevie Wonder’s story, Jacqueline du Pré’s story, and we shared how Joni Mitchell had to detune her guitar to learn to play another way after polio affected her hand. Let’s show them how these artists found ways to keep playing, no matter what. The show must go on, as Freddie Mercury said!

We live in a global world – our music curriculum should reflect that. Instead of saying, “Let’s learn African drumming,” let’s say, “Let’s learn about Babatunde Olatunji, a Nigerian drummer who learned by immersing himself in the culture and following the master drummers in his village, eventually being given a cowbell and then various Yoruba drums, took his craft to America, became an important friend to Martin Luther King Jr., and became a world-wide sensation!”

If a child thinks you can’t play music when you’re old, then share the story of The Buena Vista Social Club – how Ry Cooder, a producer from the US, had a twist of fate when musicians from Mali had their visas delayed so he ended up in Cuba, reuniting forgotten musicians like Ibrahim Ferrer, who was still shining shoes to make ends meet. The musicians, most of whom were over 70 years old, finally had a chance to tour the world with their music.

👉 Read our EYFS eBook (Ibrahim’s Song)

Context is always king, and every child loves a story. I believe the person behind the music is as important as the music itself, and becomes the bridge to another world. Teaching children to empathise helps them feel less detached from the music they are studying. Music bridges cultures, generations, and experiences in ways that words alone sometimes cannot.

That’s why I created Musician of the Month – a simple, accessible way for teachers to bring diverse musical stories into their classrooms. It’s directly linked to The Model Music Curriculum and the 9 Protected Characteristics and, as the site develops, we hope it will help schools show every child that they too can be a musician. To a child in school, the right musician, with the right song, at the right moment could well hit the right notes!

👉 Musician of the Month + Free Sample (David Bowie)

World Book Day 2025

Written by Robert Davies

Rob Davies is Associate Assistant Headteacher at Calderstones School in Liverpool. This role involves leading on anti-racism in education, sharing practical strategies, reflections, and initiatives to create a more inclusive, representative, and equitable school. He shares insights on decolonising the curriculum, diversifying reading materials, and fostering anti-racist practices in schools.

Another year, another World Book Day—same costumes, same characters. Harry and Hermione? Check. Little Red Riding Hood? Of course. The Gruffalo? Naturally. And let’s not forget Mrs. Trunchbull, stomping through the halls. Sound familiar? Thought so.

But here’s the thing—World Book Day can be so much more. It’s time to move beyond the usual suspects and reimagine it through a truly diverse lens. Let’s make it an event where every student sees themselves in the stories we celebrate.

Every year, World Book Day celebrates the magic of stories. But whose stories are we telling? Who do they inspire? When books and characters overwhelmingly reflect white, middle-class experiences, whose voices are missing? Are we selecting a diverse range of books that offer all children equitable opportunities to see themselves?

If not, isn’t it just Book Day?

At its core, World Book Day aims to “promote reading for pleasure, offering every child and young person the opportunity to have a book of their own.” But if we fail to approach it through an anti-racist lens, are we truly serving all students?

The Representation Gap in Children’s Books

In the UK, 33.5% of school-aged children come from ethnic minority backgrounds. Yet, between 2017 and 2019, only 7% of children’s books featured characters from these cultures—and just 5% had a Black, Asian, or Minority Ethnic main character.

Research shows that when children see themselves in books, it shapes their sense of identity and possibility.

Despite limited representation, excellent books exist that help students feel seen, foster belonging, and cultivate a love of reading. But do schools actively seek them out?

The issue goes beyond just introducing diverse books. What if teachers haven’t read them, or don’t understand their significance?

Whose culture has capital?

With a predominantly white teaching workforce (Runnymede Trust, 2020), how often is World Book Day shaped through an anti-racist lens? One of the biggest motivators for reading is emotion—how books make us feel (Dungworth et al., 2004). Naturally, educators promote books that resonated with them in childhood, shaped by their own experiences.

If most books being championed reflect the same narrow cultural perspectives, what message does that send? Who do these books inspire—and who gets left out?

Research further supports this. More children from ethnic minority backgrounds than white backgrounds say they don’t see themselves in what they read (40% vs. 30.5%), with Black students feeling this most acutely.

Making It a World Book Day

If World Book Day is to truly reflect all students, schools must take active steps to make it more inclusive. That’s exactly what we did at Calderstones School this year.

As one of Liverpool’s largest secondary comprehensive schools, diversity is our strength. But we recognised that World Book Day needed to reflect that diversity, ensuring all students felt represented and engaged.

So, we embraced the ‘world’ in World Book Day. We focused on books and authors from a variety of cultures and languages, fostering conversations about students’ mother tongues and cultural backgrounds.

We collaborated with Greenbank Primary School and Leeds Beckett University to involve primary school students and Global Ambassadors. Together, they read books from their home countries in their native languages—including Arabic, Basque, Farsi, French, Greek, Mandarin, Polish, Russian, Urdu, and more.

By showcasing this linguistic and cultural diversity, we highlighted the vital importance of representation in education. The readings were recorded, edited, and shared on the school’s social media. The response? Overwhelmingly positive. For many in our community, this was the first time their language and heritage were visibly celebrated in school.

How to Rethink World Book Day in Your School

If we are serious about delivering a truly inclusive World Book Day, here’s lets start with the following: 1. Move Beyond the Same Old Costumes

Rather than dressing up as characters from GCSE texts, consider why these books dominate the curriculum. Less than 1% of GCSE students study a book by a writer of colour—so why reproduce that marginalisation on World Book Day?

Conduct a Student Voice

Ask students:

What books would you love to explore?
Do you see your culture and heritage reflected in the school library?
What stories are missing from the shelves?
Use these insights to shape book selections and discussions.

Explore Translated Literature

Many beloved English books originated in other languages—Pinocchio was originally Italian. What other global stories could students discover? World Book Day can be an opportunity to highlight the rich traditions of storytelling from around the world.

Final Thought: A Call to Action

By embracing the ‘world’ in World Book Day, we made it more meaningful for our students. This is a step in the right direction—but it can’t stop here. Schools must challenge traditional reading lists, elevate diverse voices, and ensure that every child sees themselves in the stories they read.

We can’t diversify the teaching workforce overnight, but we can broaden our thinking. We must ensure that we view events like World Book Day through an anti-racist lens.

Because if World Book Day doesn’t include all stories, is it really World Book Day at all?

I Am Not Afraid

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.

School hallways are noisy. So much simmers in those corridors during breaks, and even more seems to ferment in teachers’ lounges, in the spaces of our schools as a whole. One might call it a festival of unresolved relationships, one that struggles to keep pace with the relentless pressure of coexistence, confrontation, and interdependence. By the end of a school day, we often stand slightly hunched, worn out, with restless legs that refuse to find stillness.

Amid this disorder, schools often become arenas of fear, environments where anxieties are not merely tolerated but systematically nurtured. These fears dance unseen and unchecked while the guardians of order, the teachers and educational institutions stand by as mere spectators. But what if this breeding ground of fear is not simply the result of carelessness or overwhelm, but rather the consequence of constant monitoring, control, and evaluation?

In my own school days, things were not so different. Students were expected to know little, challenge nothing, provoke no one, and certainly not disrupt. Teachers, on the other hand, constantly provoked, carried their small scandals into the school and sometimes even into the classroom. They unsettled us, and when we went home after school, we had little to report. Math, German, English, sports—subjects isolated from one another. Even the teachers lacked unity; how could the subjects possibly converse?

I remember a history teacher who filled gaps in knowledge with half-truths about controversial topics, as though he were a chronicler from another era. His stories brought the past to life, yet within the fog of his legends, the facts remained hidden. In math class, so-called wisdom from “great thinkers” was often reduced to hollow phrases—”Einstein probably said something like this.” These words sounded clever but were no more than glittering packages. In physics, correlation was sold as causation, “The moon and bad weather? That can’t be a coincidence!” Stereotypes were used so liberally that distinguishing between reality and fiction became a challenge.

In sports, fear was a constant companion. Our physical education teacher constructed scenarios of dread, “No training? That could lead to serious long-term damage!” The art teacher presented false dichotomies: “Either you draw like Van Gogh, or not at all.” Where were the nuances? Where was the space for creativity and individual thought? The music teacher, meanwhile, sought constant excuses to shield herself from constructive criticism: “It sounded fine, didn’t it? The acoustics were just bad.” The pursuit of excellence seemed replaced by a need for approval.

Parents observed this strange game, unfolding beyond grades and lesson plans, a struggle for “the best” for their children, though it was unclear what that even meant anymore. The best opportunities, the greatest potential, the most tailored support, concepts they discussed without ever fully grasping, haunted by the question of how much of their desires were genuine and how much were projections of societal expectations.

Children sensed what adults dared not articulate — that this was as much about demands as it was about support. What simmered here weighed on all of us, a pervasive burden whose origins no one could pinpoint but whose presence was undeniable.

This was a time when sports and music icons of the 1990s sparked cultural revolutions. With their bold hairstyles and extraordinary performances, they left powerful impressions that extended far beyond their fields. They influenced not only fashion and trends but also the values and norms of an entire generation, embodying success, individuality, and determination. Yet the school corridors simmered. A cacophony of invisible tensions echoed between the walls, while the daily routines left unspoken feelings like a tangled web between teachers, students, and parents.

Parents understand that children learn as much about social dynamics in school as they do about academic content. The lessons taught in classrooms are only a fraction of the school’s essence. It is the interpersonal relationships and encounters that leave lasting imprints, shaping self-worth. Sadly, this invisible yet essential layer often remains untouched and unformed. Students seem to be molded into compliant chess pieces in the game of knowledge dissemination. But what of their independence, their ability to express themselves, their courage to be authentic?

“Tell me how you speak to my child, and I will tell you who you are to them.” Language shapes our self-perception, and this is especially true in schools. The way a teacher speaks to students often reflects how they perceive their relationship with them. Are the words mere rhetorical phrases repeated out of habit, or is there genuine dialogue? Students are perceptive, quickly recognizing whether a teacher’s words make them feel valued or dismissed.

When communication is honest and direct, it creates a space where students can trust that their thoughts and feelings are welcome in school. Sadly, this is not always the case. Too often, we encounter linguistic “theater tricks,” half-truths, exaggerated dramatizations, or the subtle construction of false dichotomies, “Either you understand it, or you just don’t have what it takes.” Language, however, could serve a different purpose, reducing fear and building authentic connections.

The days of teachers as untouchable authorities, almost divine in stature, are over. This venerable role, where educators not only imparted knowledge but also moral judgments and ethical frameworks, has been increasingly supplanted by social media. Today, it is platforms and influencers, not teachers, that shape the values and norms of our students. Algorithms and digital streams dictate what is right and wrong, eroding the teacher’s role as a moral compass.

When I ask educators, “What do you think was truly happening then, and is it definitively different today?” I rarely receive a clear answer. Perhaps the point is no longer the answers but the questions themselves. Asking the right questions is a form of resistance in this era. Questions that inspire rather than inflame, that touch rather than coerce.

The fear of new technologies like artificial intelligence (AI) may be significant, but the greater threat lies in the erosion of human connections that should form the bedrock of education. True education requires profoundly personal and meaningful relationships, not just to address technological challenges but to renew and solidify the interpersonal foundations of teaching and learning.

Children are acutely sensitive to language. They are deeply aware of repetition, which is why rituals carry emotional weight. As adults, especially in classrooms, how we speak to them matters immensely. Every word, every gesture reflects what we hope for them and believe in them. Relationships cannot thrive in utter chaos; they falter when they cannot take root in fertile ground. We must create spaces where these relationships can flourish, enabling genuine connections and fostering a positive learning environment. It takes courage to step into these spaces of vulnerability and to cultivate an atmosphere where students not only learn but also experience what it means to be part of a community. Every child has the right to sovereignty over their feelings and their story, and these spaces should be defined by openness and respect.

The future of education lies in empowering these voices, breaking rigid structures, and rethinking what is possible. As educators, we must rise to the challenge of creating spaces of vulnerability where students can safely express their fears and hopes, fostering an environment where learning is not only possible but joyful. By engaging in true dialogue, we can transform the corridors of our schools from places of fear into spaces of growth and understanding.

Only then can schools become what they were meant to be, vibrant places of learning where every person, regardless of their background or history, has the opportunity to thrive and find their voice. In honoring children as autonomous beings with their own stories and inalienable emotions, we unlock the fundamental relationships that make learning meaningful and transform schools into places of deeper humanity.