The term ‘radical’ has roots. Literally. It comes from the Latin radix, meaning “having roots”. Entering Middle English, the word radical came to be used to mean “fundamental or inherent”. The notion of ‘inclusion’ has Latin origins too. It comes from the term includere meaning “to shut in or confine”, only shifting to the more positive notion of embracing or accepting in the 19th-20th centuries.
Inclusion is also a verb. However, as we do with so many things in education (and indeed in English more broadly, for more musings on that see this post about animacy), we seem to have turned it into a noun. ‘Inclusion departments’, ‘Inclusion Rooms’, ‘Inclusion Managers’ even ‘Inclusion Children’.
In my previous blog in this series, I argue there is an inherent challenge in this negative and fixed conception of the term. I suggest that the fixedness promotes separateness and an illusion of unchangingness. Inclusion is and should be a process. In this post, I argued that we need a shared positive vision for what Inclusion in schools looks like and I suggest getting a range of actors around the physical table in order to facilitate this.
Whilst I don’t profess to have all the answers, I do have skin in the game and some opinions on the matter. A vision, that in my 2022 book Leading Mindfully for Healthy and Successful Schools I termed ‘Radical Inclusion’. This agenda seeks to support schools to be places of flourishing by placing the process of Inclusion at the heart of everything we do.
This way of thinking is informed by the social model of disability. In contrast to a medical model that locates fixed issues within individuals, the social model maintains that needs are predominately determined by the factors external to the individual and that they can change over a life course.
When we think like this, not only does it reduce stigma for the young people receiving the support, as they do not feel labelled, it helps us as leaders, to be strategic. We can focus on getting the environment right, so that it is one that enables rather than disables. What Gary Aubin brilliant ‘automatic doors’ metaphor perfectly illustrates. In conversation with Mary Myatt he says “ if we imagine someone coming out of Sainsbury’s, and she’s got bags full of shopping, and when she comes out of the store, that automatic door is useful for her. Or we could imagine a man going into Sainsbury’s with his hands in his pockets, perhaps it’s a cold day, and so those automatic doors are useful for him because he can keep his hands warm. However, if the next person coming out of the store is a wheelchair user, then those automatic doors are particularly useful for them.”
In short, Inclusive approaches make things better for everybody. In a future post in this series, I will explore this in relation to high quality teaching. My thinking has been profoundly influenced by the Mountain Rescue approach that they take at Dixons Academies. In this context, of Universal Inclusive Design, it becomes much easier to identify and provide the right help and the right time to whoever might need it. This is most definitely, not about labels (though robust diagnosis matters), it is about high expectations and support. It is about recognising everyone’s vulnerability. That any pupil over the course of their education might need some support. It also requires us to have an understanding of the ways in which different people are marginalised in different (and sometimes compounding) ways.
Looked at through the lens of the social model of disability, an understanding of systemic inequalities and Intersectionality becomes key. At the heart of many of our young people’s problems are systemic and intersecting issues: poor housing; neglect; mental and physical ill health; addiction; family breakdown and communication challenges. What are referred to as ‘wicked problems’ due to their complex and interconnected nature.
These problems are often cumulative and iterative. They take on a life of their own as the individual or family interacts with the world around them. Disadvantages often compound each other in multiple domains a once. The notion of the ‘Mathew Effect’ was coined by Keith Stanovich (1986) to explain how early reading success leads to further reading success later in life. This is because children who do well in reading, read more and those who struggle read and are exposed to less. The notion of ‘Social Thinning’ is a similar concept. It refers to the way that those who begin with more social capital can more easily accumulate it than their peers and how this can compound social exclusion over a life course.
A Story
These phenomena are perhaps best explained in this fictional, but all too real, vignette of the formative years of a young person. Let us call him ‘Kai’ and his Mother, ‘Amber’. Amber lacks loving and supporting familial bonds and whilst pregnant, experiences high levels of stress due to what is described as the ‘toxic triangle’ of substance misuse, domestic violence, and mental ill-health.
Both the stress hormone (cortisol) and the alcohol reach Kai in-utero. As a result, when he is born it is harder for him to settle. Therefore, Amber is extra-exhausted and, as well as continuing to be abused, she finds it difficult to bond with Kai. Kai learns that he is often not responded to if he cries. What is more if he is responded to, he is often met by an angry or frustrated face.
As a result, he develops an internal working model[1] that sees others as untrustworthy and his self as unworthy of love. Due to this, it is more difficult for Kai to build relationships, leading to less social interaction, exposure to language and limited curiosity. He is setting raises their concerns to social services and identifies him as having SEND. This means he has additional support but some of his teachers also lower their expectations of what he can do compared to his peers and because of the way SEND funding is used in his school he has more time with a teaching assistant than a qualified teacher.
As Kai grows up Amber becomes a lone parent and lives in poverty, working several zero-hours contracts to pay the bills. The result of this financial insecurity and unpredictable working patten is she is not able to work alongside the school or social services and she has no time or energy to read or even talk much with Kai at home. His nutrition also suffers. At school and when he is unsupervised in the community, Kai ‘acts out’, he tries to find belonging in other ways and mask some of his vulnerabilities. This leaves Kai exposed to grooming and criminal exploitation. In time, he gets caught up with gangs and the youth justice system. This not only compounds his increasing mental health challenges but also makes it harder for him to get a job, once he has a criminal record. The frustrations and pattens set up by this situation lead to a cycle of mental ill- health addition and violence which are eventually handed on to the next generation.
This heart-breaking story is just a story but the themes are all too common. The reality of poverty and trauma expose many people in our communities to multiple psychological and material vulnerabilities. Challenges that are often compounded by racism and other prejudices.
Challenging the status quo
It is both a real reminder why our job matters and also the hugeness of what we are dealing with. The paradox is that we cannot locate the problem in the individual or family but it is also where we must start. What is more, as educators we must recognise our limitations. In the context of austerity, schools are increasingly asked to do more but we cannot do everything, our primary purpose is- and must be- to educate. Yet we still have a role to play in supporting Kai and Amber and those like them. I believe this is where Radical Inclusion comes in.
I use the term ‘Radical’ because, classically, we have taken a ‘software patch approach’ to Inclusion, responding to learners who are neurodiverse or have other needs or differences with something ‘extra’, ‘additional’ or ‘special’ rather than putting these young people at the heart of our decision making. Driven by a strong sense of moral purpose the notion of Radical Inclusion, is by its very nature in opposition to the status quo.
There is an excellent by-product to all this. Aside from the obvious moral imperative, if we properly prioritise inclusion, we improve outcomes for all. This is in part, because it forces us be very good at our craft. The best teachers I have ever seen are the ones who do incredible things, in a school in a disadvantaged area, with a class of young people with complex needs.
However, it is not just about skill. It is also because of the kind of culture that putting Inclusion first promotes. When we prioritise making schools safe, inclusive spaces, everyone thrives. When children (and adults for that matter) thrive emotionally they succeed academically. The next posts in the series will focus some of the highest leverage ways to achieving this, some of the challenges we face and how we might overcome them.
[1] A concept from Attachment Theory that suggests that the way we see the world, our ‘Internal Working Model’ is structured by our early experiences.
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