LGBT+ Education in School - Having Effective Conversations with Parents

Mel Lane portrait

Written by Mel Lane

Mel Lane (she/her) is Head of Education at Pop’n’Olly. She has been a primary school teacher and teacher trainer for nearly 30 years and worked in schools on LGBT+ inclusion policies with thousands of children and school staff. Mel is a co- author of What Does LGBT+ Mean? (Pop’n’Olly, 2021).

When it comes to LGBT+ education in school, parents are often portrayed in the mainstream media as unsupportive and battling with teachers – but the reality is completely different. 82% of parents actively want their children to be taught about diverse families, including those with same-sex relationships. Having worked with over 10,000 children, I have experienced, time and time again, that parents are almost always supportive of LGBT+ inclusion work in school. 

However, there are of course still a minority of parents who struggle with, and have concerns, about LGBT+ education. This is why empowering schools and teachers to have effective conversations is important. But how do we do this? Here are some themes that you may wish to include in these discussions: 

Ethos and Values

Chances are you already promote equality and celebrate difference in your school.  Maybe it’s in your school mission statement? e.g.

‘Brave, unique, caring and kind’

‘Hope, community, respect, love’

‘Respect for each other, Respect for our school, Respect for learning’

LGBT+ isn’t an add-on, it’s part of this whole-school approach. So when having conversations with parents, it’s vital you keep coming back to your whole-school ethos and discuss how LGBT+ education is a part of this.  

Children’s Mental Health

We know that children learn better when they feel relaxed and able to be themselves. One teacher was so pleased to share with me how much more animated and engaged a Year 1 child had become after a session on families included two Mums, just like her family.  All children benefit from conversations about LGBT+ inclusion because when we celebrate diversity we send a message to everyone that they are welcome in school whatever their uniqueness looks like.

Knowledge and Understanding

63% of 8-15 year olds know someone close to them who is LGBT+ Children are already having conversations about LGBT+ lives and some of them are searching for information online.  School is a safe place where children can ask questions of trusted adults to find out reliable, accurate information. UK children all live in a country where being LGBT+ is protected by law and we shouldn’t hide this information from students. In fact, under the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child (UNCRC), all children have a right to this information.  

Legal Obligations

Helping young people understand and develop positive relationships with people who are different from them is part of UK law and included in the Relationships and Sex Education (RSE) Guidance for Schools

The Public Sector Equality Duty (Section 149 of the Equality Act, 2010) states that schools must have due regard to “the need to eliminate discrimination, advance equality of opportunity, and foster good relations between persons who share a relevant protected characteristic and persons who do not share it.” 

Ofsted guidance also states that, “Schools can choose to teach the beliefs of any faith on the protected characteristics. They may explain that same-sex relationships and gender reassignment are not permitted by a particular religion. However, if they do so, they must also explain the legal rights of LGBT people under UK law, and that this and LGBT people must be respected”

Supporting Parents

Sometimes parents worry that life will be harder for their child if they are LGBT+. Sometimes they’re worried about being judged by other parents. Schools often have a lot more experience supporting LGBT+ young people than parents do. A parent of a trans child told me how much better they felt that their child’s school was supportive of their child’s transition – it gave the parent confidence and helped them navigate a completely new and sometimes challenging time.

Conversations with parents almost always eliminate fears, tackle misconceptions and build better relationships. You can find out much more information on how to have these conversations in Pop’n’Olly’s ‘Discussions With Parents’ document.

by Hannah Wilson

How Do We Make Our Classrooms Feel Like Home to Each and Every Student

Kwame Sarfo-Mensah portrait

Written by Kwame Sarfo-Mensah

Kwame Sarfo-Mensah holds a Bachelor’s degree in Mathematics and a Master’s Degree in Elementary Education from Temple University. For nine years, he served as a middle school math teacher in Philadelphia, PA and Boston, MA. Currently, he is the founder of Identity Talk Consulting, a global educational consulting firm. Throughout his 17-year career as a classroom teacher, author, and consultant, Kwame has earned numerous accolades for this work. His newest book, "Learning to Relearn: Supporting Identity in a Culturally Affirming Classroom", will be coming out Fall 2024.

For context, I’m a first generation Ghanaian American who has spent all but three years of my life living outside of Ghana.  While I mostly understand my family’s home language, Twi, I grew up not really being taught the language by my parents.  We learned a few Twi words here and there but English was the main medium of communication in our household and every other environment we found ourselves in. Growing up in the United States, I felt like an outsider.  I thought those feelings would change when I moved to Ghana at 12 years old and lived there for 3 years.  Even while living there, I felt like an outsider. 

I’ve never been a clean fit in any of my worlds. I’ve always been different.  My whole life has been spent living outside the margins of the dominant culture.  In more ways than one, I’ve received harmful messages and mistreatment to remind me of that reality.  The following traumatic scenario, which I’ve played out in my mind for the last 10 years, is a prime example of this predicament.

Okay, let me set the stage…

Imagine yourself on an airplane that is heading to the Kotoka International Airport.  As the plane makes its descent towards the airport, your anxiety heightens because you know the course of events that are about to follow. The minute you get off the plane, you know you’ll have to go straight to the immigration booth, which means that you’ll have to hand over your American passport to a Ghanaian immigration officer for visa inspection. By all means, what I’ve mentioned thus far is standard protocol but this is where things take a left turn. So you hand your American passport over to the immigration officer, he turns to your bio page and discovers your name, “Kwame Karikari Sarfo-Mensah”. For a brief moment, the officer looks at you and then looks back at your passport.  At this moment, you have two options for a response.  You can either…

  1. respond to the officer in English, leaving yourself subject to questioning from the officer as to why you have this strong Ghanaian name and are not speaking to them in Twi.
  2. respond to the officer in Twi, leaving yourself subject to ridicule and harsh criticism as to how you could be Ghanaian and not be able to speak Twi fluently.

Unsure of how to respond, you freeze in panic because you know what’s about to happen next.  The officer will either call you an oburoni and crack jokes about you with their co-workers nearby or look at you in disgust and shame you for not being able to speak Twi fluently.

While this story is specific to my experience, I can assure you that others who grew up as third culture kids or immigrant students have dealt with a similar scenario to the one I just described. Whether you teach abroad in an international school or in a K-12 school within the United States, chances are you’ll have a few students within your classrooms who are struggling to make sense of their identities or searching for spaces where they are welcomed, accepted, and fully embraced for who they are. A space where no one is interrogating them or invalidating their lived experience.

These students I’m referring to are your multilingual students, students with IEPs and 504 plans, immigrant and migrant students, neurodiverse students, students who are disabled, students who practice non-Christian faiths, students who are BIPOC, students who are LGBTQ+, etc. Although they may enter your classroom with vastly different lived experiences, they are two things they all have in common:

  1. They find themselves outside the margins of white dominant culture.
  2. They all deserve to be in a classroom that feels like HOME.

Understanding that every student defines home differently, how can we make our classrooms feel like home for each and every student?  We can start by thinking about our own homes. When you’re in our homes, we’re in spaces where……

  • we feel a sense of psychological and emotional safety and comfort
  • we can express ourselves unapologetically
  • we receive support and care from loved ones
  • we belong and feel welcomed,valued and accepted
  • we thrive off of routine and stability 
  • we’re connecting intimately with our loved ones
  • cherished memories and family history are held near and dear to our hearts

Regardless of who we are and where we come from, we all want to experience that feeling of home as I’ve described above. We deserve that feeling because it’s a human right, as recognized by the United Nations. In this world where government officials across the globe are shutting down DEI programs, censoring and banning culturally responsive and identity-affirming curriculum in schools, and pushing anti-LGBTQ+ legislation, it is more imperative than ever for us, as educators, to create classroom spaces of inclusion and belonging that feel like home for our most vulnerable students.

We may not be able to solve all the world’s problems but there are a few key things we can do to make our students feel comfortable in our classrooms:

In the end, no student should ever feel the way I felt during my childhood.  By making our classrooms feel like home for our students, we’re committing ourselves to normalizing and embracing the beauty of difference, as informed by the intersectional nature of our respective identities.  And finally, we’re committing ourselves to building learning spaces where joy, love, and acceptance are living parts of our classroom culture. 

by Hannah Wilson

The Hypocrisy at the Heart of Racist Riots

Dr Nilufar Ahmed portrait

Written by Dr Nilufar Ahmed

Dr Nilufar Ahmed is a multi award winning Chartered Psychologist, Academic, and Accredited Psychotherapist. She works as an academic at the University of Bristol where her research and pedagogy focus on Inclusion and Engagement. Her work is situated in an antiracist and Intersectional framework. She is regularly invited to comment in the media on all things psychology and has delivered training, keynotes, and consultancy services across sectors including HE, business, and Government.

Originally published by The Conversation on 9/8/24

When news broke that a 17-year-old male had stabbed a number of young girls in Southport, misinformation swiftly followed. First, that the perpetrator was an asylum seeker or refugee who had come to the UK on a boat. This was discredited and information emerged that the individual was British-born. But the circulation of disinformation, including a fake, Arab-sounding name, led many to argue it must have been a Muslim male.

Though the perpetrator has no known links to Islam, violent, far-right rioters still mobilised to attack mosques. Islamophobic violence spilled onto the streets in the worst race riots Britain has seen in years.

The fact that this misinformation was so readily believed can be partly explained by psychology, and how we think about people who look like us, and about others who don’t.

People are conditioned to identify with their in-group – others who are like them on a range of markers such as race, gender, class or nationality. The maintenance of this shared identity largely requires “us” to be different (meaning better) than “them” by making negative inferences about them.

This automatic psychological response explains how people can see the self and the in-group as complex and fluid (for example, not all white people are criminals) but frame the out-group as homogeneous and fixed. This can lead, as we’ve seen, to some people casting all black men as dangerous, Muslims as terrorists, asylum seekers as opportunistic and refugees as “taking” jobs and healthcare resources, justifying the dislike and even hatred of the out-group.

The racism of this public reaction to a horrific attack on children is stark when you compare it to other recent events.

When a white male killed a 14-year-old black boy named Daniel Anjorin with a sword in May, protesters did not mobilise around the country to “protect children”. Neither were white men as a group deemed a threat to the safety of children.

Whenever crimes, however heinous, are committed by white perpetrators, they are more often viewed as the acts of an individual who was at fault because of mental health issues or falling in with the wrong crowd. There is a long history of disparate treatment of criminals in the media linked to race.

People are socially conditioned to think heinous acts are committed by outsiders. There are a number of cognitive biases at play here, including contextual bias, where decisions are influenced by background information rather than the crime itself, and affinity bias, where people prefer others who are like them.

These biases are present in individual cases, but also across the judicial system. Inequalities in sentencing perpetuate the narrative that people of colour are more dangerous and disposed to crime.

A study commissioned by the Crown Prosecution Service also found that people of colour are significantly more likely to be prosecuted than white people for the same crimes. Such inequity results in overrepresentation in prisons and with convictions. This then feeds the narrative that people of colour are more likely to commit crime – when in fact they are simply more likely to be prosecuted.

The Blame Game

In times of scarcity, this in-group/out-group bias can become simplified and exacerbated to justify withholding resources from the out-group, who the in-group perceives as “undeserving”. Out-group scapegoats offer an easy and reliable way of deflecting responsibility by those with power.

This is what has happened over the past 14 years in Britain. While the Conservative government created an unstable economic climate and deep poverty through cuts to public services and economic turmoil, it is politically convenient to suggest the reason for scarce resources is a small number of asylum seekers.

The previous government used the negative attitudes towards refugees and immigrants as a core pillar of its election campaign. Politicians used increasingly inflammatory language in relation to immigration, blaming immigrants for things like the housing crisis and depleted health resources as a way shifting attention from their cuts in spending.

Anti-racist counter-protests have organised all around the country. Simon Dack News/Alamy

Over time, the scapegoats have been boiled down to one homogenised group of people who are not white. This is apparent in the differential treatment of asylum seekers from Ukraine, who were welcomed to the UK and allowed to work and be housed.

Asylum seekers from the rest of the world are not allowed to work on arrival and receive just £49.18 a week. This feeds the narrative that white people work, while people of colour don’t (though somehow are simultaneously “taking our jobs”).

The relentless scapegoating dovetails with the psychological biases we are all socially conditioned to fall for, creating an “us” and “them” environment that can easily turn violent. The events of the past two weeks have awakened much of Britain to the consequences that can arise when society is defined this way.

by Hannah Wilson

The UK Race Riots, Summer 2024 - The Aftermath

Diverse Educators Logo

Written by DiverseEd

Diverse Educators started as a grassroots network in 2018 to create a space for a coherent and cohesive conversation about DEI. We have evolved into a training provider and event organiser for all things DEI.

It has been a difficult summer for many people across the UK as hate has manifested itself online and on the streets of our country.

The loss of innocent lives have been used as an excuse to riot, with those enacting civil disorder and violence under the cover of protesting and the right to freedom of speech.  

Protests quickly became riots. Riots escalated into acts of terrorism.

And let’s not forget that the spate of racist, islamophobic, anti-migrant incidents took place during South Asian Heritage Month.

Many pupils, educators and parents/ carers will be returning to school in the coming weeks scared and traumatised by what has happened, by what they have experienced and by what they have witnessed. There will also be a number of these groups who are also emboldened in their attitudes, beliefs and behaviours. So, how do we challenge this? 

Some questions for us to reflect on and to discuss as part of our DEIB strategic approach:

  • How prepared are we to create safety, to offer support, to protect our communities?   
  • How will we take an anti-racist stand as a profession, as organisations and as leaders? 
  • How will we review all aspects of school life moving forwards through an intersectional lens? 
  • How will we ensure our approach to supporting our school communities is trauma-informed?
  • What training have your different stakeholders had, and what further training and support do they need?
  • How are we supporting the wellbeing of your DEIB leader/ working party as they manage the emotional tax of doing the necessary work that is likely to be triggering for their own lived experience?
  • Do we have staff briefings ready and are assemblies, tutor activities and PSHE lessons prepared?   

It is important to ensure that these questions move from being words to become actions.

In our work at #DiverseEd we encourage people to consider how we are developing consciousness, confidence and competence in ourselves and others. We also encourage our network to look in the mirror before we look out of the window – we need to do the inner work alongside the outer work to make sure what we do is authentic, considered and not performative.   

We appreciate that:

  • There is a lot to process. 
  • There is a lot to do. 
  • There is a lot of overwhelm. 

We need to learn the lessons from the Anti Racism work schools jumped to in the aftermath of George Floyd’s murder – it is important for us to take action but it is more important to think about what needs to be done in different school contexts. How do the incidents this summer feed into our ongoing DEIB work? How do we commit to proactivity instead of reactivity?

Let’s learn from the mistakes made in the aftermath of George Floyd’s death. Let’s not be silent, but let’s consider who is doing the talking and presenting to each stakeholder group. Let’s be mindful of who we have consulted, which voices have been listened to to frame the message and how it is delivered and how it lands. 

Let’s also consider how we are working with our local community. What does a connected community look and feel like for all community members? How are we building bridges, creating safe spaces, carving out opportunities to listen and nurturing collaborative partnerships?

Below we have collated resources and we signpost support that has been shared by our network to help navigate the next few weeks as we return to school.

As an anti-racist school leader we can show our support by undertaking the following key reading and actions to get started:

Some free training events as term starts which you may wish to attend/ share with colleagues:

Some organisational statements in response to the riots to read and consider your own public messaging as an organisation:

Some thought-provoking posts by individuals in response to the riots to read, reflect on and discuss with colleagues: 

Some next steps to consider getting involved in:

Some further resources to review and share:

  • PSHE Association – Belonging and community: addressing discrimination and extremism
  • Spark and Co – Standing Together Against Racist Violence: Support for Communities of Colour in the UK 

Some further reading to read and discuss with colleagues:

  • Dawn Butler – There’s a huge difference between free speech and hate speech
  • Nafeez Ahmed – Exposing the Real UK Race Riot Instigators: The Key Players and Transatlantic Network Around Tommy Robinson
  • Torsten Bell – Despite appearances, Britons are more tolerant than ever
  • Zahra Sultana – ‘People Aren’t Going To Forget What’s Been Said, And How They’ve Been Made To Feel’ 

Some final resources and supports from us at Diverse Educators:

by Hannah Wilson

Heart Stories and Community

Samira Vance portrait

Written by Samira Vance

Diversity, Equity and Inclusion Leader and Consultant. Founder of the Thailand DEI Hub.

As I journey into the next chapter of my life and career, I am finding myself taking stock and feeling gratitude for many things. As I intentionally work to engineer this next phase, I want to share one aspect that I have come to realise is essential to build and find. A community of ‘my people’.

To clarify, by ‘my people’ I don’t necessarily mean BIPOC folx but rather individuals and groups that endow me with a sense of true belonging. The people with whom you truly and fully unmask and allow space for them to do the same. At the start of this year, I attended two incredible conferences (AIELOC and DEIx24) and I was overwhelmed at the power of community. I have since set up the Thailand DEI Hub to provide a similar sense of community and peer support after being inspired by both conferences. Whilst I have found ‘my people’ along my professional journey, it was positively overwhelming to be around so many that could potentially be ‘my people’ all in one place. It is a great thing to find, witness and be amongst the souls that nourish one another.

One of the things that was consistent was the level of vulnerability shown by attendees. At DEIx24, Margaret Park asked us to consider what constitutes a safe place. Is a statement to that effect all that is needed for the feeling of safety to be felt by participants? Many of us have felt the disconnect between being told that it is a safe place when our body and gut tell us otherwise. Yet, in these instances with strangers, online ‘friends/connections’ and acquaintances, the level of vulnerability very clearly indicated the sense of safety felt by many.

A fellow attendee, spoke of wanting to connect people with ‘similar heart stories’. Heart stories. The phrase stuck with me. After some pondering, I have decided that heart stories are those defining, poignant stories of our lives. The ones that make us who we are and the ones that describe our journey through life. Are they what bind us? Do heart stories recognise each other? Indeed hearing my stories and those of my loved ones spoken back to me without my uttering a single word made me feel heard. Seeing the raw emotions through vulnerability that mirrored my own, moved me to connect. I recognised the heart story because it was similar to my own. The snapping of the fingers, the head nods and the ‘Mmms’ told me that the speaker and I were not alone. Those moments, conversations and experiences moved me to make space in my life for these strangers. We could speak truth to our stories where we were understood.

It was a metaphorical embrace signalling understanding, joy, sadness, a spectrum of emotions all at once but most of all, safety in being able to share those emotions with others. It said:

I see you, even as you hide

I hear you, even though you haven’t spoken

I know you, although we’ve never met

I am you, or at least that what my heart thinks

I feel your heart story

At AIELOC, another workshop leader spoke about safe spaces in relation to indigenous practices, specifically that of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation and roles of different members of the tribe. As BIPOC folx, but other minoritised groups too, spread across the globe, are we all yearning for places where we belong?

So many of us work to create equitable and inclusive spaces with the aim of fostering belonging, but what is the cost of existing in spaces not designed for us at this moment? What is the cost of continuing to mask day in, day out? I am very fortunate in that I have been able to find the people in my professional life with whom I can exist as my authentic self but the reality remains that for minoritised groups, this is consistently not the case outside of these relationships and spaces. Whilst we are working on systemic change, it is vital that we find our communities and safe spaces.

As I move back to England (my home), I do so with the recognition that I am a member of both visible and non-visible minority groups. I think about the communities, ‘tribe members’ and safe spaces that I will need in personal and professional settings to both support my mental health and allow me to sustainably carry on with the work that I do.

If you know of any amazing communities in the South East of England or ones based online for black women, mixed-race women, people of south-asian heritage, neurodivergent people/parents, parents of black children, DEI professionals and/or not-so-fit basketballers please do share and connect with me if you’d like! The word underpinning my vision board this year was ‘nourish’ and I can absolutely see the power of communities and people to provide spiritual, mental and sometimes intellectual nourishment and strength.

by Hannah Wilson

Inclusion Beyond Tolerance.

Claire Stancliffe portrait

Written by Claire Stancliffe

Claire Stancliffe is an education consultant specialising in gender equity, diversity & inclusion and positive masculinities. She’s on a mission to break down gender stereotypes in schools.

Pride month is well underway, and it’s got me thinking about the thorny issue of tolerance. It’s a word we hear often associated with diversity in general, but very commonly with the LGBTQIA+ community. Tolerance is the idea that we do not need to understand someone to be able to get along with them. That we can all rub along together, to live and let live. Sounds harmless enough right? Yet if I told you I would tolerate your company for the evening, I don’t think you would be thrilled. 

When it comes to inclusion, the notion of tolerance falls short. It says, “I don’t mind you breaking the rules”, while all the time upholding and even strengthening social norms. Due to religious differences, the ways we have been socialised and the norms of our various cultures, it will never be possible to create a world where we all see eye to eye on everything, but if we want to encourage true inclusion I think we need to look beyond tolerance, to a more expansive view of what exactly ‘normal’ is.

Breaking gender stereotypes

Up until very recently, our frame of reference for ‘normal’ when it comes to how we raise our children has been cis-heteronormative – that is that everyone’s gender is that which is assigned at birth (or ‘cisgender’), the expectation that all people are or will be heterosexual (or ‘straight’), and that girls behave according to one set of rules, and boys behave according to another. This has led to harmful stereotypes that perpetuate inequality.

It struck me recently that when we encourage young people to see past the narrow confines of gender stereotypes, we are often doing so from a tolerance perspective. By pointing out that it’s possible to break the norm, we can inadvertently reinforce it. It’s ok for girls to be good at maths, but it’s not part of the norm. It’s ok to marry someone of the same gender, for example, but it’s not part of the norm. It’s ok for a boy to wear makeup, but it’s not part of the norm. The terms ‘male nurse’ and ‘lady doctor’ that are still so commonly used come to mind here. 

For children, and indeed all people, breaking away from the group and doing something that’s perceived as different can be a stressful position. Many of us avoid taking the risk, preferring to go along with the crowd and feel acceptance, which can severely limit our options for happiness.

Redefining the norm 

Breaking gender stereotypes is not just about allowing exceptions; it’s about redefining what the norm can be. This requires creating environments where diversity in gender expression and identity is not just tolerated but celebrated. 

Here are three strategies that I think can shift the dial in a positive direction. 

  1. Provide diverse role models whenever possible. Consider where you have the opportunity to showcase different stories – can a maths word problem include a scenario with two mums; a girl playing with toy cars; a boy buying nail varnish? Invite a diverse range of professionals to come and speak to your class that counter common stereotypes, and remember to include men who enter caring professions, for example, as well as women in STEM. The more possibilities children are exposed to, the broader their horizons grow in terms of futures they imagine for themselves. 
  2. Watch your language. Use gender-neutral terms where possible, and certainly for all job roles. Instead of ‘fireman’ use ‘firefighter’, for example, and instead of ‘lollipop lady’, try ‘crossing guard’. When referring to the group, avoid using gender identifiers unless it’s relevant. Instead of ‘boys and girls’, use terms like ‘team’, ‘class’, ‘everyone’. Small changes can make a big difference in how children interpret the world around them and the choices open to them. 
  3. Actively challenge stereotypes. Don’t shy away from discussing stereotypes when they come up, but approach it with curiosity. Try asking ‘what makes you say that?’ and engaging as the young person explains their point of view. Highlight examples from their real lives that go against stereotypes, and encourage them to think about stereotypes that they themselves might defy. This can help them start to question the validity of broad, catch-all statements. 

As adults, we can influence the way young people see the world and their place within it. So let’s move past a tolerance mindset, to one that truly celebrates them for who they are, that helps them connect to others they identify with, and that cheers them on as they grow into who they are really meant to be. 

by Hannah Wilson

What Could Sustainable Teacher Recruitment Campaigns Look Like?

Emma Sheppard portrait

Written by Emma Sheppard

Emma founded The MTPT Project, the UK's charity for parent teachers, in 2016 when on maternity leave with her first child. She has 12 years experience as an English teacher, Lead Practitioner and ITT Lead, and now runs The MTPT Project full time.

When I trained to teach in 2010, I was drawn into the profession by the motivation to Make a Difference.  I wanted to be a Changemaker; to have Social Impact; to Do Good.  And I was willing to work all hours and make sacrifices to – essentially – satisfy my guilty white saviour complex.

Maybe that’s a little cutting: after all, a sense of moral purpose and the pursuit of meaningful work are values to live and stand by.

But, two years later, after missing holidays with my family, developing chronic migraines and unable to identify any other hobbies beyond the bassoon that I had once enjoyed (but no longer had time to play), I burnt out and quit UK education for a stint in an international school, and the luxury of an expat lifestyle.

Vivid memories of two recruitment videos remain with me from this time.  In the first, a young man rides to school in the dark, and is the first in the building to switch on the lights.  He excels at his job, cares for his students.  At no point do we see him doing anything other than living and breathing teaching.

In the second, a young man wakes up, arrives at school, and we jump between his previous office job (dull) and his current teaching role (fulfilling).  At dinner time, he talks about how great teaching is and then gets into bed, and the cycle repeats itself.  At no point is there anything in his life other than teaching (and the back of his girlfriend’s head).

There is nothing incorrect about either advert: teaching is a brilliant and life-affirming career.  And – let’s admit it – as teachers, we do love to regale our friends and family members with hilarious school anecdotes at every opportunity.  The kids are the best bit.  Indeed, both adverts are powerful appeals to potential recruits who want to do nothing but teach.

But for how long do we want to – or are we capable of – martyring our whole lives to our profession?

Surely, if we want to see improved teacher retention, we need recruitment campaigns that sell teaching as a career choice that allows for a life beyond the classroom?

This is where a recent video from Reach Teacher Training has got things so right.  Like the videos previously mentioned, this advert follows two teachers from the start to the end of their working day, but the marketing team behind this piece have made some deliberate directorial decisions about the culture that new recruits can expect at Reach.

In the first iteration of the video – a 29 second clip – Reach dedicate 6 seconds to images of one of the teachers hugging her own child and waving goodbye at the door before she drives away.  That is 21% of expensive marketing time given over to stating that teaching is a family-friendly career choice – at least at a Reach Academy.

In the second version of the video, Reach set aside a glorious 23 seconds (of 55 seconds in total, so 42% of the entire clip) to the life-friendly nature of their school.  The first teacher joins her running club to run home with her pals in the sunshine.  Meanwhile, we zoom in to the second teacher closing her laptop and checking her watch as she finishes her day.  Her watch says 15:54 and, presumably, she’s on her way to school pick-up.

In both videos, we see the teachers enjoying animated conversations with their students.  We see them delivering excellent lessons.  We see them Making a Difference.

Indeed, the text that accompanies the social media posts sharing these videos reads: Join our community; Change lives; Train to teach.

But unlike those adverts that drew me into a military lifestyle of teaching that – as a 22-year-old with no real prior experience of the workplace – I could not sustain, these adverts state very clearly that the dream is possible.  Teaching is a life-friendly career, state Reach, and one that you can enjoy for years to come around all the other beautiful moments that life will offer you.

Bravo, Reach Teacher Training, and the team behind your recent recruitment video. 

by Hannah Wilson

Pride Month 2024 - Responding to homophobic language: guidance for schools using Oracy and No Outsiders

Andrew Moffat portrait

Written by Andrew Moffat

Andrew Moffat has been teaching for 25 years and is currently PD Lead at Excelsior MAT. He is the author of “No Outsiders in our school: Teaching the Equality Act in Primary Schools” and “No Outsiders: everyone different, everyone welcome”. In 2017 Andrew was awarded a MBE for services to equality and diversity in education and in 2019 he was listed as a top ten finalist in the Varkey Foundation Global Teacher Prize.

Ensuring equality for all cannot be achieved if any group of people feel they are unseen, unwelcome or feel targeted because of the person they are. As teachers, we strive to ensure that everyone feels seen, everyone feels welcome, and no one feels they have to hide their true selves, or parts of their identity. 

In preparing children for life in modern Britain, we need to be clear and consistent in our efforts to make schools a safe place where children understand there are different ideas in society and prejudice may exist in the outside world, but prejudice and discrimination do not exist here, because in our school, there are “No Outsiders” and everyone is welcome.

Children are allowed to hold different views. I am a big champion of oracy as it encourages children to see both sides of a debate and understand it is possible to hold two views at one time. However, while different views are embraced, the othering of a group of people is not allowed. A child can disagree with a point of view and still show respect; this is the golden thread of a no outsiders ethos. 

If a child chooses to use homophobic language, this must be tackled immediately. Children must understand there is no tolerance of prejudice at our school. It is the job of any adult to respond to homophobic language, as this is a safeguarding issue (KCSIE, 2023, “Children who are LGBT” page 51),

A quick response is; “Excuse me?” or, “What do you mean by that?” followed by, “And what do we say at our school?” to which the expected reply is “There are no outsiders”. Reiterate, “That’s right, there are no outsiders here, so you need to think about the language you are using. How are you going to put that right?”

All homophobic incidents should be recorded, and parents informed.

If homophobia arises in a debate where no individual is being targeted but there are attitudes forthcoming that need to be addressed, make sure they don’t go unchecked. An oracy framework enables us to challenge such attitudes effectively by asking the class to respond; “Would anyone like to respond to that?”. If the comment is offensive, for example if a child says, “gay people are wrong” it’s important that the adult responds immediately along the lines of; 

“Can we think about the language we are using here… those ideas may exist in the outside world, but we need to be really careful about the words we use here. To say something is ‘wrong’ is different to saying, you ‘don’t agree’ with it. Do you want to re-phrase so that you are not othering anyone or being offensive?”

“What does the law say about this?” (The Equality Act, British law says it’s ok to be LGBT)

“What do we say at our school about different people?” (We say there are no outsiders, and everyone is welcome here.)

It’s vitally important the teacher addresses the attitudes while not giving their own opinion so we don’t get in to an argument or lead the children down any particular path. What we need to do instead is remind children it is ok to hold different views (“and that’s what makes this debate so interesting”) and we can still show respect and non-judgement. It’s ok to disagree with one another, the important thing is that everyone still feels they have a place here, including the child who is being offensive. It is the child’s views that are not welcome; the child is still welcome.

If a child brings their faith into the discussion; “My religion says it’s wrong”, respond in this way:

“You’re right, there are different views about this in different religions. And that’s the best thing about living in the UK- we have different views and beliefs, freedom of speech and democracy, and we have the Equality Act which protects religion and belief, so people are allowed to hold those views under British law. Who else is protected under the Equality Act? (disability, age, race, pregnancy and maternity, marriage and civil partnership, sex, LGBT) hmmm that’s interesting isn’t it – on the one hand you have religion and belief and on the other you have LGBT … both protected, both allowed… so I suppose we have to find a way to respect both views. We can co -exist without saying the other is wrong….”

And then open out the conversation, move it along using the oracy technique; “Who wants to build on that?”

Keep coming back to “That’s why we say there are no outsiders… we can have different opinions, and we can still respect each other. No one is pushed out because of their religion, their race, or because of their sexual orientation.”

I recognise that these conversations are not easy but they are important and we need to be having them with our children. My advice is to practice responses with each other as a staff team. 

Here are some useful assembly links from  www.no-outsiders.com:

https://no-outsiders-assembly.blogspot.com/2024/05/pride-2024.html

Assembly pictures : Football shirt (no-outsiders-assembly.blogspot.com)

Assembly pictures : football (no-outsiders-assembly.blogspot.com)

Assembly pictures : Bathroom (no-outsiders-assembly.blogspot.com)

Assembly pictures : Beano (no-outsiders-assembly.blogspot.com)

Assembly pictures : LGBT history month (no-outsiders-assembly.blogspot.com)

Assembly pictures : What is homophobia? (no-outsiders-assembly.blogspot.com)

Assembly pictures : Curly hair (no-outsiders-assembly.blogspot.com)

https://no-outsiders-assembly.blogspot.com/2024/06/veteran.html

by Hannah Wilson

South Asian Heritage Month: free to be me.

Zahara Chowdhury portrait

Written by Zahara Chowdhury

Zahara is founder and editor of the blog and podcast, School Should Be, a platform that explores a range of topics helping students, teachers and parents on how to ‘adult well’, together. She is a DEI lead across 2 secondary schools and advises schools on how to create positive and progressive cultures for staff and students. Zahara is a previous Head of English, Associate Senior Leader and Education and Wellbeing Consultant.

This year’s theme for SAHM is beautiful: free to be me. As we celebrate lived experiences, storytelling and authenticity, it seems only right that freedom and embracing our individual narratives is next.

This year’s theme has made me think where have I felt my most free? It’s not an easy question to answer. You see, growing up South Asian, (in my case, a British Pakistani Muslim, who’s family was born and raised in Africa), masking your identity can often feel normal, particularly when masking makes you feel safe in public, school and at work. Returning home, comes with its own comforts and conflict: finding joy in your culture and sticking out because you don’t really ‘fit’ within it either. Freedom then becomes a rather grey area and one that does not feel easily attainable.

Over the years, particularly I adulthood, there are a few spaces where I have come close to ‘free’: one was in my classroom. When teaching, my classroom was predominantly full of students who looked like me, shared similar lived experiences and most importantly we connected over an understanding of shared ambitions, aspirations and values. I felt free in an office with a colleague who shared my heritage; breaktimes and lunchtimes were full of laughter, candid conversations and asking each other, ‘what did your mum use to store atta in the kitchen?’, ‘were your sofas covered in shrink wrap too?’

Since then, I have felt most free in conversation with South Asian educators across the sector, most recently in conversation learning all about the wonders of Pehalwaan Juice (if you know you know…I definitely didn’t!). In many ways I share this with caution: for someone who works to amplify diversity, is there a problem if my freedom is sought and felt within my own community? Do I then just enjoy being a part of my own echo chamber?

The answer is no. Within these spaces diversity thrives. Diversity of thought, feelings, faith, work, experiences – being South Asian does not make us all one and the same and every South Asian friend, colleague and student I have connected with has a different story and identity. If anything, the freedom I feel in these spaces makes me more determined to centralise my identity in mainstream spaces too.

My childhood and teen years were branded with the term ‘coconut’ – in many ways, I didn’t think much of it then and I don’t think much of it now. What I do think about now though is how the identity of a ‘coconut’ lacked freedom. Consciously and subconsciously (and I really hope fellow South Asians can relate) I spent my childhood and adolescence straddling between several identities, depending on the audience – and I happened to be pretty good at it; I still am (we are pros when it comes to masking). I (still) do not know enough about my heritage, and I still don’t feel very ‘white’ either. Perhaps this is what imposter really means.

I studied all of this at university, wrote about it for my dissertation. 15 years later, specialising in a field that very much reflects the truth of my life couldn’t be more imperfectly perfect, no matter how much I question it on a daily basis (awareness and celebratory months are only one piece of the ‘work’). If anything, my experiences as a teacher and now EDI trainer, speaker and consultant are in some ways liberating and in other ways, revealing of just how far ‘we’ (marginalised and minorities in the West) have to go to be free.

South Asian Heritage is rich, diverse, nuanced and just huge – I am so naive and ignorant of its beauty. There is so much to learn. I’m not sure I’m free to be me just yet…but I think (and hope) we’ll get there soon.

In light of this and all of the learning and connections we have to make, I’m excited to share a space, network and group for South Asian Educators to connect, talk and be. Assistant Headteacher and Author, Yamina Bibi has said, the network will be a space ‘for anyone who is looking for a safe space for those of South Asian heritage. The challenges and issues facing South Asian Educators is somewhat different to those from other heritage groups as they are often thought of as the hard workers, obedient, quiet, shy, oppressed by colleagues and society in general. This network will support more educators to have their unique voices heard.’  We want this network to be collaborative, safe, empowering and a community where we can learn from one another too. Please Join us here!

 

by Hannah Wilson

LGBTQ+ teachers don’t receive the training and support they need

Dr Adam Brett portrait

Written by Dr Adam Brett

Adam has completed a doctorate exploring the experiences of LGBT+ secondary teachers. A presentation of his findings can be found here. He also co-hosts a podcast called Pride and Progress, @PrideProgress, which amplifies the voices of LGBT+ educators, activists and allies.

Originally posted on The Conversation in May 2024:

https://theconversation.com/lgbtq-teachers-dont-receive-the-training-and-support-they-need-228162

Republished with permission of the author.

LGBTQ+ teachers report feeling stressed and even discriminated against in the workplace due to their identity. This is a problem when keeping teachers in their jobs is vital. Teaching is facing a crisis in both recruitment and retention: in 2021-22, more than 39,000 teachers quit the profession.

But there is no formal support or training offered to LGBTQ+ teachers by the Department for Education. Supporting the teaching workforce who identify as LGBTQ+ and making teaching a welcoming profession should be a priority for the government.

For LGBTQ+ teachers, working in UK schools may no longer be the deeply traumatic and dangerous experience it was under Section 28 of the 1988 Local Government Act, which was repealed in 2003. This law sought to ban local authorities and their schools from promoting the acceptability of homosexuality as a “pretended family relationship”.

But LGBTQ+ teaching staff continue to face challenges such as feeling unsafe in their workplace.

Throughout their careers, LGBTQ+ teachers are placed in the difficult position of deciding whether they should conceal or reveal their sexual or gender identity. This is not a decision they are trained to deal with, nor a decision they make just once. It is particularly tricky in schools where teachers must decide if, when, and how to be open with different groups – staff, students, parents, and others involved in school life.

As an LGBTQ+ former teacher, I know first-hand the emotional tax that comes with continuously negotiating LGBT+ visibility and identity within school.

Unsafe spaces

For my doctoral research I worked with 12 LGBTQ+ teachers from a variety of contexts, including faith, private, and single sex schools. The teachers took photos to represent the spaces where they felt most and least safe within their school, and described the significance of their photos.

The teachers changed how they behaved out of fear of being seen as LGBTQ+. They did this in particular in open or visible spaces, such as when on break duty, leading an assembly or in the staffroom.

In these spaces, the LGBTQ+ teachers were fearful of comments or incidents related to their identity that they felt unequipped to deal with. One teacher said:

I give my assemblies quite often, and I don’t hide my sexuality from anybody, so the student body knows that I’m gay … but when I’m doing my assemblies I feel, I feel scared and I don’t know if it’s because I know that they know that I’m gay and therefore, I’m like afraid of them … I don’t know hurling a slur or something.

By contrast, the teachers often described their classrooms as the spaces where they felt most safe. Here, they had created their own routines, relationships and systems.

Among the 12 participants, there were teachers who had been told not to discuss their sexual or gender identity. One teacher told me that they and others had been asked to sign a non-disclosure agreement in a Catholic school: “We weren’t allowed to talk about the fact [that we were gay],” they said.

These are extreme examples. Generally, though, the assumption of heterosexuality in schools can lead to personal questions and situations that LGBTQ+ teachers often feel unequipped to deal with.

Cisgender and heterosexual teachers might be asked about their partners and families and would feel no fear of retribution or backlash in answering those questions. But what might be an entirely unremarkable conversation for a heterosexual teacher might well be deeply fraught for an LGBTQ+ teacher. This can be understood as “heterosexual privilege”.

Despite thousands of the teacher workforce identifying as LGB+, they receive no formal support or training for the challenges that they are likely to experience in their career. Sending LGBTQ+ teachers into schools without adequate support or training will probably lead to these teachers experiencing discrimination and stress.

Some teacher training providers ensure that trainees from minority backgrounds receive training and support to help them face the additional barriers they may experience in schools. However, implementation remains inconsistent.

Future reforms to the Initial Teacher Training and Early Career Framework, which outlines the minimum entitlement for trainee and early career teachers, must reflect these challenges to ensure a minimum and equitable level of provision for LGBTQ+ teachers. If they don’t, fewer LGBTQ+ teachers will enter or remain in the profession. Students and families won’t see themselves represented, and young people won’t be equipped for life in a diverse society.

LGBTQ+ people have the potential to make exceptional teachers and leaders. With the right support, they can thrive in the profession and provide young people with the role models that they desperately need.

by Hannah Wilson