Belonging in the Classroom: how can schools respond to a divided world?
- Zahara Chowdhury
- 11 minutes ago
- 3 min read
It’s a Sunday morning—my favourite time of the week. Coffee in hand (with collagen and creatine, of course), I wander around the house while the kids are already asking for ice cream, Lego time, and the TV (yes, it’s only 8am). Usually, this part of the day comes with a little doom-scrolling, some memes, and a few oddly satisfying cleaning videos. But today feels different.
As I scroll, I’m pulled into two completely different worlds. On Instagram, images from Tommy Robinson’s Unite The Nation march flood my feed. The night before, I found myself double-checking the doors and windows—just in case. On LinkedIn, meanwhile, notifications are pinging from the brilliant Anti-Racism Conference, hosted by The Black Curriculum and Belonging Effect. Two events. Same time. Same city. Entirely different realities.
It’s hard to put into words what many of us—especially those who are ‘othered’—are carrying right now. When I speak to friends and colleagues, the feelings range from sadness and fear to resilience, resistance, and even indifference. For me, the world feels both tragic and surreal. I’m tired and frustrated. But I’m also hopeful.
One book that always grounds me is The Courage of Compassion by Robin Steinberg. It reminds us that courage means listening deeply, even to those who are different from us—or against us—and meeting that difference with compassion.
And yet, there’s an uncomfortable truth here. Too often, minoritised communities are expected to model empathy and moral “goodness,” as if our belonging depends on it. That expectation is unfair. Still, when I think about it, many of us would still choose courage, compassion, and calm clarity—because that’s who we are.
Yesterday’s conference reaffirmed why education matters so much in moments like this. Now more than ever, educators, schools, and communities need to unite and connect. This isn’t just about curriculum—it’s about safeguarding, wellbeing, and ensuring every student feels safe, included, and able to thrive.
How Schools Can Respond
Address the elephant in the room.
Some students and staff will feel anxious or upset about the march. Others may feel proud. Many won’t have noticed at all. But silence sends the wrong message. Even if only a few people are directly affected, everyone benefits when schools acknowledge what’s happening.
David Hermitt, former MAT CEO, once told me: teachers, at their core, want to do the right thing. They care about their students and about society. That care means opening the conversation.
You might:
Share a short message with tutors, acknowledging the march and reiterating your school values—respect, inclusion, safety.
Create space for discussion, whether through tutor time or optional drop-in sessions.
Adapt to your context—no one knows your students better than you.
Keep parents in the loop
A simple message goes a long way. Reassure families that student safety remains your priority. Remind them of your school values. Invite them to share concerns—listening to parental voice is valuable, even if it feels daunting.
Harness parental representation
Cultural representation in schools makes a lasting difference. Pamela Aculey-Kosminsky recalls her mum coming into school in traditional Ghanaian dress, sharing food and heritage. My own mum did the same, later becoming a governor. These grassroots connections build community in powerful ways.
Connect with community leaders
Reach out to local faith leaders, organisers, and community champions. They can humanise difficult issues, counter misinformation, and build bridges between groups.
Invest in staff confidence.
Staff need space to prepare for conversations around race, politics, and inclusion. It’s not always easy to make room for CPD, but it pays off in the long run—both for teachers and students.
Finding Hope in Difficult Times
The world feels overwhelming: the Unite The Nation march, the ongoing genocide in Gaza, violence in Sudan and Congo, the murder of Charlie Kirk, the sexual assault and attack on a Sikh woman told she “does not belong,” ICE raids, the memory of George Floyd and Sarah Everard. It feels dystopian.
But maybe hope isn’t naïve. On a global scale, things feel broken. But on a local scale, in our schools and communities, we still have power. We can create safe, compassionate spaces, even when the world feels anything but.
If you’re wondering where to start, here are a few resources that can help:
This is an ongoing conversation and work we need to do collaboratively. If you have any resources or best practice examples, please share them. If you have questions or need support, please reach out—we are here to support, advise, or simply to have a chat.
