Stories from the Corridor
Inclusion isn’t a policy—it’s a practice that lives in classrooms, corridors, and conversations.
These reflections capture my journey as an Inclusion Leader working across a network of secondary schools, each with its own challenges, cultures, and stories.
From the quiet victories to the complex questions that sit at the heart of this work, these short pieces offer an honest look at what it means to build belonging in real school contexts.
Each post shares a moment, a learning, or an insight gathered along the way — from conversations with students to observations about school culture and the systems that shape it.
I hope they spark thought, challenge assumptions, and celebrate the power of small, human moments to make a big difference.
The start of something new always brings a mix of nerves, excitement, and possibility. This week reminded me that inclusion work isn’t just about strategy — it’s about people, preparation, and purpose.
Last week was my first week back in my new role as Inclusion Leader — much of the week was spent with the team preparing resources for this half term’s interventions — with over 200 sheets, laminated, painstakingly cut out and organised. It took me right back to those first days of the school year as a teacher, getting displays ready and making sure everything was just right before the students walked in.
The week also began with some fantastic news: the REFRESH programme workbook I wrote and designed has been shortlisted for the Teach Secondary Awards in the Health & Wellbeing category. To be recognised alongside organisations like BBC Bitesize (and others I genuinely respect) feels like a real milestone. Whatever the final outcome in November, it’s great to see a programme about inclusion, reflection, and belonging recognised in this way.
Looking to the week ahead, I’ll be spending time in all three of the schools I’m working with this term. I’m looking forward to seeing how each one approaches inclusion, learning from their best practice, and then sharing those insights across the network so that every student benefits.
Hopefully, by tomorrow, the lingering smell of melted laminate pouches will have finally dispersed…
Here’s to a purposeful second week — and I’d love to hear from others: what’s the best example of inclusion practice you’ve seen in action?
Last week, I was in my three schools being briefed on the children I’ll be working with 1-2-1. I was struck by the way each case was introduced:
“They’re a real character — we’ve got a soft spot for them, but they have become increasingly challenging...”
“Their behaviour has warranted permanent exclusion for years now, but we just can’t give up on them…”
“If they weren’t here they would fall victim to criminal exploitation, a prime target for county lines — we will try everything to stop that happening...”
Those conversations stuck with me. They showed the angst leaders feel, the compassion they carry, and the responsibility they shoulder. Balancing the needs of the individual with the learning & safety of the class is not simple. Sometimes exclusion is felt to be the only way —it’s a decision that’s never taken lightly.
The bigger picture is stark. The EPI’s Aug 24 study shows just how high the stakes are: pupils who are suspended even once are twice as likely to be NEET by age 24. They are almost 3x more likely to be receiving health-related benefits by their mid-20s, a clear sign of the long-term impact on wellbeing. And research by the Behavioural Insights Team & Nuffield Foundation shows that almost half of 15–17-year-olds in custody had already been excluded from school, a sobering reminder of where this path can lead.
The reason? Every time a child is suspended, they’re not learning. They’re slipping further behind. By GCSE stage, those gaps are almost impossible to close.
That’s why we need to get in before the suspension which is what our project is about. To see behaviour for what it is — communication. To put support in place that helps children regulate, engage, and stay connected to their learning. That’s what keeps them in the classroom, out of harm’s way, and on track for a future they deserve.
I don’t claim to be an expert, far from it, but I’m learning fast from my mentees & schools, and from the research that’s out there. What I do know is that if you’ve read this far, you also care deeply about young people and their outcomes. And if we can pool our knowledge and share what works, we can give more of these students a real chance.
That might sound idealistic. It takes me back to my teacher training interview about 20 years ago, when I was asked why I wanted to be a teacher. I proudly answered, ‘Because I want to make a difference.’ I thought I was the only one who had ever said that — but I quickly realised all had joined for the same reason, and many were making a much bigger difference than I ever did!
So if you’re a seasoned practitioner in this space, please don’t roll your eyes at my early reflections. Share with me what you know. Suggest the networks I should join, the thought leaders I should follow. I know enough to know I don’t know much — but I do know this: every suspension doesn’t just remove a student from the classroom, it chips away at their future.
Some weeks stay with you — not because of what you did, but because of what you heard. This was one of those weeks, full of conversations that revealed the heart and complexity of inclusion leadership.
Culture lives in corridors, the break times, and the small interactions between pupils and staff. This week I got to see that first-hand.
First full week working across my placement schools done ✅
It has been a mixture of group work and 1:1 mentoring. Honestly, exhausting but fun. Getting in front of the students, the unpredictable back-and-forth, and just being around young people with all the warmth and potential they carry has been a real highlight.
In one school in particular the rumours have already started. Am I the new English teacher? A new member of SLT? Or even somehow related to Neymar(!). I don’t see it myself, a similar skin tone perhaps, but as he is about 15 years younger than me I will happily take it!
On Friday, a Year 11 student came up to me on dinner duty and said: 𝑆𝑖𝑟, 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢!? 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒! Fair point. I am working across seven different rooms in two days, so I probably have been seen quite a bit.
Beyond the fun moments, it has been fascinating to observe the feel of each school, the buzz of the corridors, the rhythm of break times, and the way pupils and teachers interact. These small cultural markers say a lot.
What struck me most, though, is that every student I have worked with so far, and remember these are young people whose relationship with school has often been fraught, told me they liked their school. They might not always say it to staff directly, but they recognised their teachers had their best interests at heart.
That speaks volumes. It is a real testament to the cultures that have been built up. Students felt they belonged, they mattered, and that even when they did not like a decision, it was made for their benefit.
And that sense of belonging is key. It is something our project is keen to strengthen across the whole network of schools we are working with. Cambridge University and the MRC Cognition and Brain Sciences Unit have done some excellent work on this subject. I will be starting with the 40min Cambridge University webinar bit.ly/47ZaIk9, and there are also plenty of practical resources to download from their website here bit.ly/4gB95v1.
Because if we can get belonging right, if every student feels they are seen, valued, and part of their school, then we are not just managing behaviour. We are helping to build futures.
One thing that’s really struck me this week is how different our schools are today compared to when I was at secondary school in the late 80s.
Back then, there were only five non-white pupils in my year group, including me. That felt normal at the time, but standing in today’s classrooms makes me realise just how much the landscape has changed — and what a strength that is.
Last week, one of the groups I worked with was made up entirely of Yemeni, Kurdish, and Dagestani students. It made me pause and think carefully about my own practice. The cultural reference points I thought I could take for granted may not land in the same way anymore. The language I use, the examples I give, even the stories I tell, they all need to be considered with a wider lens.
The other thing I’ve noticed. Even when students are EAL, or when their cultural touchpoints are very different to my own, there is one space where we always meet: play. Play is universal. It gives us a common ground, a way to reflect, to explore, and to connect without the pressure of getting it “right”.
So this week I leaned into that. We created a game called “Behaviour Detective” to help students unpick what was behind some of their behaviours. Instead of feeling judged or labelled, they were curious, playful, and more willing to share. The conversations it opened up were fun and meaningful.
It reminded me that sometimes, the best way into the serious stuff is through play.
From Dagestan to Yemen to Yorkshire - this week reminded me that play is the language we all share.
This week marked the halfway point with my first student cohorts, a moment for them to pause, reflect, and look ahead.
We spent part of our session thinking about goals, and more importantly, about the small steps, routines and habits that move us towards them.
The conversations were fascinating. Some students set their ultimate goal as success in sport or their studies. Others went deeper. One said their goal was to reach heaven/Jannah! I guess as goals go that's pretty much the ultimate.
What struck me most wasn’t the goals themselves, but how thoughtful they were about the process. They were reflecting on how they could improve the way they think, act and respond, about who they are becoming on the way to wherever they want to go.
It reminded me that in education, the journey really does matter as much as the destination. Our role as adults, teachers, mentors and leaders, is to help young people build the mindset, routines and self-belief that carry them forward long after we are gone from their lives.
And this is where belonging comes in. Because when students feel they belong, they are more willing to look to the future. Belonging gives them the firm foundation to dream, to plan, and to believe they have a place in that future.
For some of the students I work with, the idea of setting long-term goals can feel out of reach. But as soon as they start to see themselves as part of a community that believes in them, they begin to think differently about what is possible.
Helping them see that connection, between who they are now, where they are, and where they want to be, is the most powerful part of this work.
How do you help your students connect their sense of belonging with their vision for the future?
Belonging isn't just about feeling included, it's the foundation for how students see their future.
This week I was reminded that real impact doesn’t always come in waves — sometimes it begins with a single ripple.
We are nearing the end of the first six-week cohort, and I have been reflecting on what has worked well, what needs improving, and how my relationships with the students are developing in each school.
In general, I am happy with how things are going, but it is always hard to measure effectiveness. There is that constant tension between wanting to capture data to understand impact and not wanting to break the flow of genuine connection.
The students I am working with do not always respond well to lots of written tasks. Often, the real value is in the conversations, the moments when they start to reflect on their feelings, emotions, and responses out loud. So, one of my reflections for the next cohort is to minimise the amount of writing, to allow the space for more meaningful dialogue.
Just as I was wondering how to know if any of this was really working, one of my students gave me the answer.
One of my quieter Yr9 students, waited behind after the session, and said:
“Sir, I just want you to tell you that since I’ve been doing these sessions with you, I’ve improved on my lateness. I was listening to something you said the other week and because of that, I’ve made a change. When I’m in bed in the morning and I can’t be 'bothered' (she actually used a slightly stronger word which I won’t share here!) to get up, I think about what you said, and it makes me get up and come in.”
It was such a simple thing, but it meant a lot.
All of us that work in schools start this job wanting to make a difference. But in the middle of the day-to-day grind, it is easy to forget that we are making a difference, even in small ways. For this student, just shifting how she thinks about her mornings has already changed her routine.
Ironically, Thursday's session had been about emotions and feelings, how to deal with the negative ones so we can make positive choices, and how to hold onto the good ones a little longer.
So, this post is me doing just that, holding onto that good feeling a little longer.
Sometimes impact shows up quietly
