Jules

At Maslaha, on our Schools with Roots project, we’ve been working closely with teachers and families to help primary schools develop sustainable anti-racist practice to better engage with their families and local communities. We believe, and indeed research has shown[1], that improving community engagement in schools, and linking pupil’s heritage and lived experienced to their learning, will have a positive impact on children’s outcomes at school and help them to become confident, reflective learners and engaged active citizens. Racism is deeply ingrained in all levels of society, including within the school system, and it takes active work from all of us not to be complicit. Inevitably, structural racism exists in schools, regardless of the intentions of individual teachers. As the 2020 Runnymede report on Race and Racism in English Secondary Schools [2] noted, there are many ways that racism manifests in secondary schools, from uniform and exclusion policies, to teachers having low expectations of pupils based on their cultural or class backgrounds, to a Eurocentric curriculum that doesn’t reflect (and therefore devalues) the lives and cultures of students of colour. We also know low levels of trust exist between schools and local families and communities. The government’s counter extremism Prevent policy, to give an example, has created a sense of fear and alienation among Muslim communities. Muslim families are aware that consciously or unconsciously they are seen under a veil of suspicion at school because of Prevent, under which 1000’s of Muslim children have been wrongfully referred. In terms of staffing, at least in inner city areas, teaching bodies and senior leadership are often not representative of the local communities the schools serve. According to the Department for Education in 2018 nearly 92% of teachers in England’s state- funded schools were white and only 3% of head teachers were from ‘ethnic minority’ backgrounds.[3] This is a trend exacerbated by fast-track teacher training programmes which often bring newly trained teachers in to cities such as Manchester, London and Birmingham from smaller cities, towns or rural areas - perhaps having never had contact with the communities they are working with. It is vital, then, that schools take action to become anti-racist spaces. Teachers need to recognise the power they hold in perpetuating institutional oppression and make the classroom a place where student’s cultural differences, languages, stories, and histories are not erased, but valued. Teachers can play a vital role in creating environments where children have the opportunity to thrive and feel safe and thinking about how to engage with families and the local community is a vital starting point. A big difference between primary and secondary schools is that parents are a lot more present in primary schools - there is daily family contact with school usually twice a day. How schools engage with families, then, has a huge sway on the experience of a child in primary school. Indeed, research shows that parents’ interest and involvement in their children’s learning is consistently associated with positive outcomes for children of all age groups and there is an established link between the home learning environment at all ages and children’s performance at school. However - most schools say that they do not have an explicit plan for how they work with parents, and fewer than 10% of teachers have undertaken training on parental engagement.[4] On our Schools with Roots project at Maslaha, we work with schools to recognise the learning and knowledge that lives outside of the classroom, in the community, and value the day-to- day experiences of students as an important part of the learning process. This includes teachers understanding the contexts of where students come from, taking time to get to know the local communities in which they teach. If they don’t know and understand the local community, how can they make learning relevant to pupils' lives and build trust with families? Our pedagogy is centred around three key areas: context, family involvement and community engagement. Context – learning should resonate with and reflect the realities of pupils’ local context, heritage and home life. Family involvement – parents and carers should have the opportunity to meaningfully input into classroom learning. Communities feel valued, with a greater sense of belonging for pupils and parents, and a co-creation of knowledge that is socially, culturally relevant to pupil’s lives. Community engagement – local communities are a rich resource that can bring learning to life for pupils. Schools and teachers should work to engage with local community assets as much as possible. In order to put this pedagogy into practice, schools first need to address the issue of why some parents or families might feel intimidated or not confident engaging with school. Through our work with families and communities on Schools with Roots we know that for some parents their own negative experiences of school as children can impact this, as can harmful or negative experiences of other institutions such as local councils or the police. For many parents, language is a huge barrier to engaging with school. Some parents feel judged or patronized by staff and, in particular, we have heard from families who, due to precarious work, insecure housing, immigration status, or complications with physical and mental health, aren’t able to engage with school in the way they would like, but who at the same time don’t feel able to talk to their school about this, due to a lack of trust. No two schools or local communities will be the same, and we work with schools to actively get to know their parents, carers and families and to engage with them in genuinely non-judgemental ways. This includes asking some important questions about communication between schools and families. It is also important to have a number of ways that parents can engage with school and not just one point of contact. We’ve often seen how having limited points of contact, for example, the front office, or a parent liaison worker, can shut down communication for parents and lead to ‘gatekeeping’. We ask schools to consider how they communicate information to families, ideally through simple text and graphics as opposed to long letters or emails that parents who don’t speak English will not understand. We work with schools to develop multi-lingual resources that that are accessible and engaging. We also work with schools to embed practices and strategies into the classroom that help teachers engage parents and families with learning. One of these strategies is Community Mapping. Community mapping involves local communities building up a multi-layered picture of what it is like to live in their area. It can be a useful way of helping schools understand more about the everyday lives, interests and routines of the families of pupils, and to mobilise parents to get more involved at school, share expertise, meet new people and potentially be introduced to new things in their local area. This could be exploring using a traditional map format, but also through all sorts of other creative mediums. For example we created a zine Our Forest Gate Stories as part of a community mapping project with families and a school in Newham, this provided a platform for parents from marginalised communities to tell their life stories and journeys in their own terms. Another Schools with Roots strategy is Topics Together. This is an approach to curriculum that engages parents in the planning of topics and provides an entry point for their continued involvement during the course of a topic. This involves family ‘think-in’ sessions where parents come in to meet with their child’s teacher before each topic begins, with a focus on creating a peer-peer environment that isn’t hierarchical or intimidating – the idea is to have a knowledge exchange as opposed to the teacher telling parents what the pupils will be learning. Topics Together has allowed families who have never engaged with school to have a say in their child’s learning and to have a greater voice in schools. Finally, our approach incorporates anti-racism training with teachers, going beyond talking about diversity in the representational sense, but rather focusing on systemic change. We believe that if teachers cannot discard individual narratives and understand racism as a structure - then they will continue to see racism as an act from an ‘immoral’ individual and will be unable to critically reflect to see themselves or their schools as racist. In our anti-racism work with teachers, we look at the ways in which racism, power, and privilege operate systemically in society and in schools. We have seen over the last year the disproportionate impact of the pandemic on black and brown communities, highlighting longstanding inequalities in health, housing, education and employment, and shining a damning light on structural racism in the UK. We know that school closures have widened the attainment gap between disadvantaged children and their peers. Effective parental engagement will be more important than ever in mitigating the extent to which the gap widens and to compensate for lost learning – this means schools really grappling with what an anti-racist approach to family engagement looks like. In a time when many vital community spaces and resources such as parks, community centres and libraries have been lost due to austerity, disproportionately impacting marginalised communities, primary schools remain a place where parents regularly interact and have the potential to play an important role as a space of community care. In this context, how schools communicate with families matters more than ever.

I was recently a guest lecturer on a university course for teachers studying inclusive classroom practice. Before I began, I asked everyone to let me know if they were neurotypical or not. With one or two exceptions where people said they were not sure everyone answered swiftly: “I am neurotypical,” “I am neurotypical,” “I am neurotypical” and so on. I pointed out to them that not one person had described themselves as “A person with neurotypicism.” But first and foremost, before your neurology you are a person. It is important that we state that first. You are a person with the brain that you have, not a person defined by it. Isn’t that right? Which part is you and which part is your neurotypicism? Could I point to a part of me that isn’t autistic? I, my very self, is autistic. We all know that it is good practice when it comes to speaking about people with learning disabilities to use person first language. To remind everyone that this is a person we are talking about, not a condition. But I wonder whether there isn’t something a little worrying within that. Do we need reminding that people are people? Let us look again? That ‘with’ is a form of judgement. What we are saying when we position something in a sentence away from the person, is that the something, whatever it maybe, is negative. We want to keep it separate from the person, to protect the person in some way from it. And the ‘with’ is what we use in language to do that. For example, in my own practice I would always say “A person with epilepsy.” I’d be very keen to separate epilepsy from the people I know who live with the condition, I wish that there was more I could do to those ends than just use the word ‘with’. If you told me you were looking to cure epilepsy I would be right behind you. That ‘with’ is a judgement that says the next thing is bad. Think of how you describe yourself: you probably state things like your gender, your sexuality, your race, you religion as “I am” statements. You do not hear people saying “I am a person with femaleness” “I am a person with gayness” “I am a person with whiteness”. When people state “I am white” they do not follow it up with an explanation that not all white people are the same, or that being white does not define them, those things are already understood. The autistic community is very clear: we prefer identity first language. “I am autistic” not “I am a person with autism”. And yes, everyone on the spectrum is different and some individuals will choose person first language and that is their right to do so. But in general, the autistic community choose identity first language. (This was something I researched extensively in writing The Subtle Spectrum if you are curious to read more you can explore the references provided below). Why does this matter? Is it just playing with words? Well it matters enormously because inherent in that judgement of ‘with’ is a prejudice that says an autistic brain is worth less than a neurotypical brain. Autism is a brain difference not a brain defect. Prejudice against autism, even little micro aggressions like ‘with’ing, has big consequences for my life outcomes. That prejudice has (as you can read in The Subtle Spectrum) threatened my life on occasions, both in terms of physical and mental health. And I am someone who would be described as having low support needs. That prejudice is dangerous to me as someone who does not lead a particularly challenged life, how much more dangerous is it to someone who faces more challenges than me? Research is also beginning to show more and more that adopting, accepting and embracing autistic identity, has a positive effect on outcomes for autistic people. There are parallels to be drawn with the gay community. Think of the incredible pressure homosexual people have lived through, and in some parts of the world continue to live through, to appear as if they were heterosexual. When you live under that pressure it threatens your mental and physical health. Would we conclude that being gay causes mental illness? Happily, not any more. But, in places where people have to lead closeted lives, then of course we see a rise in mental illness. When people are allowed to fully be who they are, and can celebrate that, that is healthier for everyone. Embracing difference is not just beneficial for those with clearly definable differences, it is beneficial to everyone’s wellbeing. In a world where difference is embraced we are all free to be our authentic selves. I am a woman. I am a mother. I am a daughter. I am a wife. I am straight. I am white. I am British. I am a teacher. I am an author. I am Autistic. Who are you? Joanna’s son became the UK’s youngest published author in 2020 with his book My Mummy is Autistic. Joanna’s 8th book The Subtle Spectrum comes out in June. Both books are published by Routledge.

When it comes to reading and writing, the stereotype is that it is often the boys in the classroom who are hardest to engage and enthuse. Countless studies have taken place over the past thirty years all telling us the same thing...boys enjoy reading less than girls and, as a consequence, their outcomes are significantly lower than girls’. As a teacher, it can be a challenge to get any students excited about reading and turning our reluctant boys from non-readers into avid bookworms can seem like an impossible feat. According to a study by The National Literacy Trust, the gap between the number of girls and boys reading for pleasure has done nothing but increase over lockdown - from just over a 2% difference at the start of 2020 to 11.5%. In addition to this, they noted that nearly twice as many boys as girls said they do not enjoy reading at all (13% of boys and 7% of girls). Michael Morpurgo - famed children’s writer and former children’s laureate - stated, “Too many boys still seem disinterested in reading, and far, far too many children simply never become readers at all.” On top of this, a 2016 study by Keith Topping, Professor of Educational and Social Research at the University of Dundee, noted that it is essential to find books that genuinely interest boys, in order to keep them focused. The data additionally suggested that boys - regardless of age - tend to: choose books at random, choose books that are too easy for them, take less time to read text and can skip out huge chunks of prose. So how can we break down this stereotype, with all this research and evidence backing it up? Over the past eight years I have made it my mission to encourage all children, and especially boys, into reading. Invading their YouTube-riddled minds with imagined adventures, magical creatures and heroic protagonists. Here, I share with you some of the successes… Making reading ‘cool’ The age-old idea that ‘trying hard makes you look like a nerd’ is creeping into younger years. The year I took on the role of English lead in a Midlands primary school had been very difficult for the school; the reading pass rates in the KS2 SATs had been low and the school was haemorrhaging staff at an alarming rate. I had a class of 36 Year 6’s - 24 boys and 12 girls - and only four of those boys were regular readers. I had my work cut out. I soon realised that for reading to take off, I needed to make it ‘cool’… Be a reader As educators, we all know the power of the teacher’s influence over the children in their class. Within primary schools at least, it is often the subject which the teacher is most enthusiastic, passionate and knowledgeable about that will be the subject the children most enjoy and, in turn, will be the subject they make the most progress in. We also know, through experience and research, that if the main adults within the child’s life are readers then - hey presto - their children are more likely to become readers too. But what about the others? The families where books aren’t ‘a thing’? Most modern households do not have libraries of books easily accessible, and for many families there may be parents working long hours, or adults who did not connect with books as a child. Children who are raised in households where reading isn’t ‘a thing’ are less likely to become those readers-for-pleasure that we all dream of. In this situation the child’s ‘reading influencer’ needs to come from elsewhere. And that ‘elsewhere’ is the classroom. Of the things I tried in my time as English lead, one thing was clearly the most powerful. If we wanted the boys in the class to pass their reading assessments, make expected progress or read for pleasure then we, the educators, needed to read. And even better, we needed to like it! We found the way forward was to read everything we could and then talk about it like it was the greatest thing that had ever happened. I told the class about every story I could, stories where everyone has an animal ‘daemon’ that is part of their soul, or the Greek hero who hid under a goat and slayed a cyclops, or the real-life story of the young Black footballer and World War One soldier, Walter Tull. I enthralled them with stories they too would be able to read and experience: “Hey! You like the sound of that? Well I have it right here! Give it a go!” The greatest thing about reading all these children’s books was that they did not take us that long to get through, and we ended up reading some of the best books we, as adults, had ever read. If you decide to take a similar approach in your school, think about representation, are you reading and talking about a diversity of authors, and a diversity of main characters from different cultures, backgrounds and experiences? For example, think about how many books you are reading and talking about that are by Black or Brown authors, or with characters that represent the diversity of families in society. Will the children in your class see themselves in these books, and be able to imagine themselves in them? In short, the first and most successful step I took to encourage those reluctant readers was, quite simply, reading a range of books and talking about them myself. Non-stop! Shared stories The year I took over as English lead we moved from the very popular (at the time) Talk for Writing curriculum - which had seen some fairly good outcomes in writing in the early years but had become stale and repetitive in KS2 - to a text based English curriculum. As a school, we worked hard to cherry-pick exciting, high-quality texts. We ensured that the range of texts was plentiful and representative of the children in our community and of the wider community; we made room for comics, non-fiction, poetry, songs, anything that might engage the reader. Furthermore, all the teachers had an input in the texts they taught as I felt it was important to choose books that engaged the adult as well as the children. The teachers had something to share about the book, a little nugget of their own life or childhood. Teachers were able to teach some of their own favourite stories which in turn excited and engaged their classes. Empowering the teachers to take ownership of the texts they covered was incredibly powerful and this elevated further the replenished excitement for the new English curriculum. Book Talk Book talk became a daily occurrence in the classroom. Anyone who had read anything could get involved and talk about the books they’d been reading - it was an open forum. We would take about 10-15 minutes out of each day and talk about stories. To try and make the book talk sessions even better I’d invite other adults to ‘accidentally’ drop into class and talk about the books they were reading. Other teachers, TAs, the headteacher and even the sports coaches would sometimes pop in and join in with the conversations just to show that EVERYONE was reading. It is so important for children to have representative role models, so they can see themselves in the adults who are talking with them. Do children get to hear Black and Brown adults talking about what they are reading, what about people from the older generation, and, especially for boys, are they hearing male staff talking about the books they love? Eventually it got to the point where those children who hadn’t read anything wanted to read something because they felt left out of the conversation. Suddenly it was super cool to be reading! Miss Timms’ special books So, these books I was recommending? They cost me a fortune! Any books I read and talked about with my class went on a special shelf in my classroom and the class became fiercely protective over them. Anyone who borrowed one of the books had to care for it and read it quickly because there were 25 other children waiting for it. In addition to this, if anyone came into school with a really good recommendation, we would order it for the class and when it arrived we made a big show of opening the packaging and taking it in turns to look at it. We even had children asking their parents for books...as presents...at Christmas and for birthdays! Reading aloud Another facet of the new reading venture was storytelling. After listening to children retelling stories that turned promising starts into “and then and then and then”, I decided something needed to be done. As a consequence, we, the adults, focussed our own efforts on reading aloud; we all had to practise ‘doing the voices’ to engage and enthral the children even further and to model how stories are written to be shared. We had staff meetings which focussed on storytelling and we trialled (with some success) a range of different accents and tones to help teachers bring their stories to life for the children - one of my class’ favourite characters in Rooftoppers was a shopkeeper who had a total of four lines of dialogue all because they loved the sound of her Yorkshire accent. I also reinvigorated our weekly reading assembly with a storytelling assembly – picture me reading The Twits to 200 children. They loved it - although I'm not sure my dignity ever truly recovered. This renewed focus on the joy of stories and the fun of reading encouraged many children - boys and girls - to read, and their confidence, fluency, and expression in reading aloud increased. The impact By the end of the year the books in my classroom were dog-eared and ragged but they had been read by a whole host of eager little eyes and evidence of the enjoyment was seen in borrowed passages in their independent writing and excitable daily book discussions. During guided reading lessons, the boys were excited to be asked to read aloud, and individuals, who at the beginning of the year were anxious about being chosen, would confidently thrust their hands into the air at any reading opportunity. In my class alone the number of boys who regularly read for pleasure rose from just 4 in September to 19 by the end of the year, our reading SATs results increased 36% that year and the independent writing saw a marked difference. But most importantly the positive impact on all the children and their attitudes towards reading increased immeasurably. Finally, there was the glimmer of hope, the tiny little whisper of a glimmer, that reading could actually be viewed as ‘cool’ by 11-year-old boys.

Health and Well-being Health and Well-being has been a popular topic within schools and practice in recent years. The impact of health and well-being on ALL of those within the school community has significance within the wider community. If staff, children or families suffer with poor health or low well-being then the implications of this are reflected in our society. It’s important to look at health and well-being from a few different perspectives. I originally wrote a similar piece which looked at health and well-being from a Froebelian point of view and compared this with McMillan and contemporary practice. However, investigating some global educational philosophy has helped expand my understanding of this discussion. One of the reasons I decided to deviate slightly from my original writing was after hearing a podcast by Dr Muna Abdi with Liz Pemberton and Jamel Carly, who pointed out that the philosophers who are constantly discussed are white, and any ‘other’ standpoints are not easily available, or heard of! I chose to include South Asian and East Asian philosophy within the discussion of Health and Well-being due to the proximity to my own cultural understanding of these values. I have found that there are many similarities in practice that may have been established a lot earlier perhaps due to the nature of the philosophy and cultures, as well as the spread of this through colonialism. We need to maintain a critical lens when discussing educational philosophy that grounds our current practice. By bringing a variety of global philosophies into the discussion, we begin to think critically about where our pedagogy comes from and the links that the pioneers we study may have made. Vedic Education 10th to 6th Century BC A simplistic definition of the Vedas would be that they are texts from India which influence Hindu philosophy, culture, and religion. There is much more depth and detail in the Vedas with different components and writings that make up the teachings and beliefs in Hinduism. These teachings influence what Education looked like in 6th Century BC India. Education constituted lectures and lessons on various topics such as Philosophy, Astrology and Logic and these concepts were related to everyday life through domestic and agricultural responsibilities at their teacher’s home. Vedic education also focussed on moral, physical and intellectual development. This Ancient Indian education system looked at the development of personality and character, the impact of one onto the community through civic duty, application of knowledge into the community, and development of spirit and righteousness. This was mostly explored through ‘learning by doing’ and practical lessons in nature. Vedic philosophy demonstrates an understanding of what it means to be human and students used yoga to explore this. The use of yoga as a philosophy has been explored in more detail with Karisetty et al., (2020) who look at the impact of yoga on physical and mental well-being in individuals. Confucian 6th Century BC Confucianism originates from China and was developed from the teachings of Confucius. His beliefs and philosophy focused on personal ethics and morality. Similar to Vedic education, Confucius also understood the idea of education as something to be experienced: “I hear and I forget. I see and I remember. I do and I understand.” Hung et al., (2000) discusses how Confucian concepts of morality and personal ethics are applied in education, for example, through the idea of ‘heart-mind’, ‘will’ and ‘desire’. The common core values being the well-being of the individual within the community, and the application of these theories into daily and practical life. Confucian education values lifelong learning and the development of human beings as fundamental concepts. Confucian philosophy impacted cultures in East Asia and continued to infuse with cultures such as Islamic, Buddhist, Tao and Hindu cultures. The Vedic and Confucian education philosophies can be applied to the context of health and well-being through the holistic development of each student, the emphasis on what it means to be human, and the impact of this on the world around us. These are core principles when trying to understand the meaning of life. As educators if we focus on these fundamentals, we can look at how we are influential to children as they encounter the world around them. Froebel 1782- 1852 Froebel’s context was in rural Germany where he spent a lot of time outside as a child and showed interest in nature and outdoors. Philosophical ideas of Rousseau were circulating around the time he - looked particularly at Romanticism with childhood, outdoors, and nature. These ideas can be found in Froebel’s writing: “Nature, with the world of plants and flowers, so far as I was able to see and understand her, early became an object of observation and reflection to me” (Froebel 1915). Froebel’s affinity with nature and connectedness came through in his ideas on education, through the kindergarten where he outlined the need for children to have their own individual garden to tend to. The layout and landscaping of the garden was designed so that all were connected and ‘part of the whole’ perhaps symbolising ‘child in family’ or ‘citizen in community’? (Froebel 1899,1912) See image below: Froebel also emphasised physical health by recognising ‘inner reciprocal active connection of all parts of the body’ and his writings regarding the respect and cultivation of the Spirit may be interpreted as well-being or mental health (Froebel 1885). Froebel’s philosophy continued to spread into Europe throughout the 1800s. In London and Manchester, in 1850, Froebelian schools were established. The Froebel Society and Froebel Education Institute were all founded towards the end of the 1800s and from these organisations the Froebelian principles were formed. The principles are broad and are the basis to most contemporary practice. Both the Froebel Trust and International Froebel Society have their own version of the principles. McMillan 1860-1931 McMillan’s ideas of health and well-being in education seems to have less of a romantic view and more of a medical viewpoint. She maintained the idea that ‘health was the only capital that most men possessed’ (Lascardides & Hinitz, 2000) and therefore her educational philosophy was based on healthcare. McMillan may have noted the impact of pollution in London and her experience between wars on the health of those in society. Another impact she noted was the worsening social divide between poorer and privileged families and children. McMillan was critical of the state of education, and therefore she and her sister Rachel set up the Open Air Nursery School in Deptford (which still exists as Rachel McMillan Nursery School). McMillan used the outdoors and nature to focus on physical health and well-being. She had witnessed the slums in which children were living and looked to support children and families by teaching skills for self-care. Similarly to Froebel, McMillan also wrote extensively about gardens and the study of nature and linked this to the current scientific discoveries: “There are motor elements in perception, and there is stimulus in the sight of lovely or strange things. Most things provoke or encourage movement in children or adults” (McMillan 1930). Influences on contemporary practice Now we have touched upon a variety of philosophies, we can consider the impact they have on contemporary practice. Vedic and Confucian education focused on theoretical concepts which were applied through ‘work’ often in nature. Vedic education also included yoga as a form of reconnecting with oneself and reflecting on the deeper meaning of life. These philosophies show more understanding of why we as educators do what we do and brings us back to focus on the humanness of our roles. We may consider these philosophies to underpin everything we do in life, and how we are supporting children in building their understanding of the world and meaning of life. Froebel references philosophical meanings and contexts in his writing, with a focus on education and children. His principles have continued in contemporary practice through broad values that practitioners would agree with. Many Froebelian authors write in ways that support practitioners in bringing the Froebelian pedagogy to contemporary practice (Tovey, 2017, Taylor, 2013, Bruce, 2012). McMillan’s values have permeated into our practice through the importance of outdoors and physical health. In addition, her context may be akin to what our current societal context is – the widening gap between the wealthy and less wealthy and the impacts of covid-19. Building on this point, Reeves (1913) describes the cramped and crowded homes in London: ‘a family of eight persons using three rooms’. Whilst this is shocking, it can be compared to today’s practice where Knight (2011) writes about the characteristics of living in London – including crowded housing and high levels of child poverty. These housing situations are common to inner city schools and could be a factor as to why the Newham Outdoor Project was commissioned (Early Education, 2017). The EYFS (2017) insists children have access to an outdoor space. How this is used can be up to settings and individuals, with the use of an outdoor space linking to the physical health and well-being of children and perhaps making links to McMillan’s ideas on the outdoor classroom. Government policies such as The Play Strategy (2008) sets the tone for what is valued in early education and this is then filtered down to practitioners who embed the agenda. However, when these policies are axed, this message is also permeated into the educational landscape. It is then up to individuals, charities or organisations to ensure health and well-being values are not forgotten, and find ways for support to be accessed by all (Department of children, schools and families, 2008, Voce, 2015, Early Education, 2017). Our values of health and well-being Connections, relationships, outdoors, nature, food and wellness are all contributors to improved health and well-being. Below are some practical ideas incorporating the philosophies that we have explored: o Ensuring the outdoor space offers natural resources and engagement with the natural world o Ensuring the garden is a valued extension to the classroom and practitioners can see the value in the experiences children have in the space o Strengthening parent – practitioner partnerships will allow for deeper understanding of the children in your care and how practitioners can support their wellbeing in settings o Utilise Leuven Scales in settings to find ways to support children’s well-being o Consider global educational philosophies, ask yourself why you are doing what you are doing and how does it fit with your core values? o Use Yoga and Meditation in the classroom o Consider Philosophy 4 Children as part of your practice o Consider holistic practices by reviewing values and visions of your practice and setting Further links - Roehamptons Digital Archive collection of Froebel (and others) writing: http://urweb.roehampton.ac.uk/digital-collection/froebel-archive/ - Dr Muna Abdi podcast link https://anchor.fm/becomingantiracist - Froebel Trust and International Froebel Society principles: https://www.froebel.org.uk/about-us/froebelian-principles and http://www.ifsfroebel.com/ - Rachel McMillan Nursery School and Children’s Centre https://www.rachelmcmillannursery.co.uk/ - Vedic Education https://www.yourarticlelibrary.com/education/development-of-education-during-vedic-period-in-india/44815 - My original Froebel and McMillan writing: https://www.ecsdn.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/11/Exploring-Froebelian-Legacy-RL.pdf

2020 provided us with numerous opportunities for reflection, both at an individual level, and as a society. Personally, I found myself learning about things I had not expected to be focussing on. These were deep reflections on diversity and inclusion, which challenged me and left me feeling uncomfortable. The learning has taught me this discomfort is part of the process, and so I sit with it. It has also made me notice the power of the language we use every day. In recent weeks I have been drawn to stop and think about the language that I have been using in my professional capacity, working with children with additional needs, for many years. I have been aware for some time that some people aren’t very keen on the term ‘Special Needs’. This is one of the reasons I tend to use the term ‘Additional Needs’ when talking about my advisory role. About a month ago, I read a blogpost which made me reflect a lot on the various terms that have been used over my 17 years in teaching. This paragraph was particularly powerful: My son’s needs are not special. He needs to communicate and to eat, go to school, get a job, have friends and leisure activities. Are those needs any different from you or me? No, they’re not. How he will access them is different. But the needs themselves are not “special.” Disabled people need to get access to community transit, theatres, restaurants, swimming pools, shopping malls, and everything else that you and I access without even thinking about it. That doesn’t make their needs special and when we set the tone that they are special needs, it minimizes their rights. Disabled people have the right to do everything we do. And yes, by law this is their right. It’s not something special we do for them. I'm ashamed to say I had never previously thought about it in that way. I worked in a ‘Special’ school for 11 years, prior to that I worked in mainstream primary schools, but always with a keen interest in ‘Special Needs’. If, as this parent says, her son’s needs aren’t ‘special’ then is it any better to label them ‘additional’? My conclusion was - not really. The day after I read this quote, I delivered some bespoke training to a school who’d asked for support for a child in their nursery. I realised as I delivered the remote session that I regularly refer to ‘complex needs’, ‘significant needs’ or ‘profound needs’. It made me reflect even more. I decided that it would be a good idea to put the question out to some of the connections from my Twitter network. I wanted to know if many other people were having similar thoughts, and if so, what we should do about it: I've been considering the language we use around disabilities and I don't think it is always right. It would be great to hear your thoughts, particularly around the use of the term 'Special Needs' before I write an article. Some of the responses suggested that I wasn’t alone: I agree. I used to work in a “special school” and I never liked the term. I also don’t like when we talk about “disabled people” ... their disability is not their definition. I try to use “people who have...” Personally, I think there needs to be a completely new way of thinking about this. How children and adults with disabilities access things such as education is more important than addressing them as ‘special’, no matter how well intended. There needs to be a mind shift. I’ve always preferred the term additional needs but maybe more accurately it should be additional access needs? Would that then move the language to be a more social model based one? Joanna Grace who founded The Sensory Projects had some interesting thoughts: I looked at the history of where these words come from in my book Multiple Multisensory Rooms It's interesting to see how they reflect the age. Changing them changes nothing unless the understanding they are reflecting is changed too. She then provided the following graphic which was very thought provoking: She clarified further: When it is just "don't say that, say this instead" it can do more harm than good. If there is a good explanation as to why you want the change, then it can change the understanding. But ultimately unless the understanding changes there is no point. At the beginning of December I was lucky enough to join Leslie Patterson on a Foundation Stage Forum Podcast about the labels we use with children. In a recent article on the same theme, Leslie wrote the following: I think we need to ask ourselves constantly whether the language we are using is still suitable. In the early years many of us have used the term ‘emerging’ rather than ‘below expected’ because it feels kinder and indicates that progress is being made. However, after a while any phrase begins to carry with it connotations, and we need to re-evaluate the words we use on a regular basis. I also think it is healthy to have discussions around our language on a regular basis. I hope that this piece will prompt conversations, and I would love to hear the thoughts of those who have read it. Posing the question on Twitter and then receiving the responses made me pause. I deliberately hesitated a few weeks before writing this, as I wanted to think more about what had been said. I continue to reflect. If I’m no longer a ‘Special Needs Advisor’, and I’m also not sure about ‘Additional Needs Advisor’ then what do I call myself? I thought more about my role and realised that what I do is advise teachers and support staff on how they can adapt their provision to ensure that their children have the best possible chance of learning. I have toyed with something like ‘Adaptive Education Advisor’, but would anyone really know and more importantly understand what I did? I’m lucky enough to provide free support to nurseries and schools, many of whom find me on social media – what are these settings likely to be looking for? ‘Adaptive Education support?’ Or more realistically ‘SEND support’? I am going to continue to use the language that is familiar, but I also want to continue to reflect and consider how this language might make people feel, particularly the young people I am working with and their families. Wider discussions around this topic can only help us to ensure that our language is appropriate. As Joanna says in her last image: ‘No-one should feel sad about their labels’.