SEND - Developing Every Child: An alternative view

Moving Beyond Buzzwords to True Inclusion

The meeting concluded at 16:05, leaving me with a familiar sense of unease. It’s a feeling I’ve experienced countless times in our sector, a recurring pattern where genuine intent gets lost in the labyrinth of buzzwords, compliance, and an industry that profits from anxiety. We saw it with the "curriculum revolution," and now, it appears, the spotlight is firmly on inclusion. But in our relentless pursuit of what's "new" or "Ofsted-approved," are we truly serving every child, especially those with special educational needs and disabilities (SEND)? Or are we, once again, creating an industry of anxiety and a market for fleeting, often ineffective, solutions?

I fundamentally believe in every child's potential. Every single one. This isn't just a saccharine sentiment; it's the unshakeable bedrock upon which effective education must be built. True inclusion isn't about ticking boxes or manipulating statistics; it’s about digging deep, understanding, and addressing the unique needs of each child, fostering an environment where every child feels truly valued, supported, and genuinely empowered to thrive.

The Inclusion Illusion: When Data Trumps Deep Understanding

Let's cast our minds back to the "curriculum revolution." Suddenly, curriculum was the neglected child of education, propelled into the limelight by a shift in the Ofsted framework. What ensued was a gold rush. External consultants, previously unnoticed teachers suddenly lauded as "curriculum experts," and a whole new lexicon emerged: "declarative knowledge," "curriculum journey," "curriculum pathway." Departments, terrified of inspection, would take their existing plans, run them through a machine, and out popped a "professional-looking curriculum map", glossy, impressive, often stuck into every student's book or plastered on school walls.

But how much of that actually improved the curriculum? How many fundamental changes were made? In my experience, very few. What it did achieve was getting people to recite the answers to leaked Ofsted questions. It consumed countless hours of leaders' time at conferences and in department meetings, driven by a palpable fear of what would happen if they didn't comply. And often, these "deep dives" into curriculum were conducted by non-specialists, asking questions that revealed little about the strength of teaching and learning, but left heads of department visibly shaking, and leaders consumed by the worry they hadn't done enough. All that time, all that money, largely wasted.

Now, we are seeing history repeat itself. With a change in government, inclusion has become the new curriculum. But what is inclusion, really? In most meetings I attend, it's simply synonymous with behaviour, and behaviour, in turn, is synonymous not with the quality of behaviour, but with the number of suspensions or exclusions a school or trust has. So, an "inclusion judgment" boils down to: do you suspend or exclude, or don't you? If you don't, you're "inclusive." If you do, you're "non-inclusive."

This narrow definition is not only deeply flawed but actively harmful. It doesn’t scratch the surface of true inclusion, which is about making sure that whatever challenges a child with additional needs faces, be it behavioural, cognitive, speech and language, reading delays due to ineffective phonics instruction, or basic numeracy issues, those challenges are identified, understood, and addressed with a series of targeted interventions for that child and their family. This feels like common sense, but the reality is very different. If inclusion becomes solely about reducing exclusion figures, we miss the vital opportunity to understand why behaviour is challenging and how to tackle it effectively to give every child the best chance at a positive future.

I've witnessed first-hand the cynical, often terrible, work being done under the guise of “”inclusion””. Take the "suspension to another school within the trust" trick. A child is disruptive, but the school doesn't want their suspension figures to align with national averages. So, the child is "suspended" to a sister school for a day. The reality? Most children struggling in their home school are highly unlikely to go to a completely unfamiliar environment, where they might face gang affiliations, friendship differences, or simply the daunting prospect of walking into a school where they know nobody. So, they don’t go. They appear as a one-day absence, not a suspension. This is not inclusion; it's a suspension via the back door, happening all over the country. No improvement in behaviour, just a manipulation of data.

Or consider the on-site "inclusion bases" that sprouted up in many schools I've worked with, particularly those in special measures. The pressure to reduce exclusions was immense. So, rather than suspending disruptive children, they'd be sent to these on-site bases. The problem? I am yet to find one adequately resourced with trained, experienced staff, or appropriate staff-to-student ratios. Often, these are places where poor behaviour is tolerated, attendance isn't closely tracked, and children are on part-time timetables, leaving early or arriving late. The vast majority of staff aren't qualified teachers, and there's no proper curriculum. These children are getting a significantly worse experience than they would if they were attending even 80% of their mainstream classes. But, under the banner of "inclusion," no suspension or exclusion figures emerge.

Then there's the increasing reliance on Alternative Provision (AP). Sending children to AP massively reduces a school's suspension and exclusion figures. The grim reality, however, is that average attendance in AP is often just two days out of five. That's three days more absence than a child might incur through occasional suspensions in mainstream school. And the average pass rate for English and Maths in AP? I think it is circa 7%. In the schools I operate, a child in mainstream has a 60-70% chance of passing English and Maths. Is moving them to AP, truly "inclusive"? It sorts the figures, certainly, but it absolutely does not sort out the child's future.

Beyond the School Gates: Societal Shifts and Shared Responsibility

The challenges we face in promoting genuine inclusion extend far beyond the school gates, reflecting broader societal shifts. We're seeing a fundamental erosion of expectations around behaviour and personal responsibility. We have a police service, struggling to "hold the line" because they are constantly videoed, shouted at, and accused when they try to maintain law and order.

The Equality Act, while rightly protecting individuals and their protected characteristics, is at times being weaponised against schools, fostering an adversarial dynamic rather than collaborative partnerships. Parents, understandably desperate for their child's success, are sometimes misled by those who profit from division.

And then there are those cynical "consultants", circling, always circling. They're no longer touting curriculum maps; now, their focus has shifted seamlessly to SEND. They’re selling snake oil, preying on the vulnerable, both concerned schools and desperate parents. I’ve seen them actively stir up "merry hell" in communities, getting involved in parental Facebook groups, publicly denigrating schools' attempts to improve behaviour, and then magically appearing with a "solution" they can sell for the problem they largely amplified, and in some cases, created online. It’s a sickening cycle.

We also have the contentious issue of elective home education (EHE). The narrative often spun is that schools are "driving parents and children away," implying a lack of inclusivity. We should expect high standards in schools, expect children to rise to them, and work with parents to ensure their children seize the great opportunities available. When some parents choose EHE because they dislike these expectations, and while I respect their right to choose, I often don't think it's the right path, the finger-pointing towards schools, often from within the sector, for "not being inclusive" is remarkable. If we're truly serious about the perceived problem of EHE, then why aren't we campaigning to make it unlawful, or at the very least, vastly increase the accountability and responsibility required of parents who choose this path? Just as schools are inspected, perhaps home education environments should also be assessed for adequate curriculum, conducive learning conditions, social development, and a minimum number of educational hours. That, I suspect, would significantly reduce the numbers.

Five Pillars of True Inclusion: A Holistic Approach for Every Child

Instead of getting caught in the latest educational fads or succumbing to fear-driven directives, what if we focused on what truly makes a profound difference in a child's life? What if we embraced a holistic approach that genuinely empowers every child, including those with SEND, to succeed? I propose five fundamental pillars for genuine inclusion – two directly linked to schooling, and three broader, but equally vital, elements:

1. Reading Proficiency: The Unshakeable Foundation. My experience, in every school I’ve worked with, is that vast numbers of children are falling significantly behind with their reading. Often, their primary school experience included "mixed method" teaching, leaving them without the strong, direct foundation they desperately need. True inclusion begins here. If a child cannot read, they are fundamentally excluded from engaging with the curriculum. They are present in the classroom, yes, but effectively absent from learning.

Within our trust, we've invested heavily in Corrective Reading, a direct instruction approach based on synthetic phonics. The gains we're seeing are significant. Next academic year, students involved in this programme will be receiving nine hours of direct instruction reading per week. Some might gasp, "Nine hours?!" But we believe this is true inclusion. It's an immense financial and time investment, but the alternative? A child unable to access their education is far more costly in the long run.

2. Numeracy Fluency: Mastering the Building Blocks. Similar to reading, a lack of fundamental numeracy skills creates a massive barrier to learning and participation. We constantly try to accelerate children through complex mathematical concepts when a third of a typical year group in a comprehensive school desperately needs more maths fluency and a thorough understanding of times tables. How can we expect a child to excel in algebra if they struggle with basic arithmetic? An inclusive school or trust will bottom out these foundational gaps, prioritising mastery of essential number skills over rapid, but ultimately superficial, progression.

3. Prioritising Sleep: The Silent Architect of Well-being. This might seem outside the traditional school remit, but the science is unequivocally clear: adequate sleep is paramount for cognitive function, emotional regulation, and overall well-being. I've personally struggled with sleep for years, and through my own research into health, I've come to realise that most scientists who study sleep consider it the single biggest factor in our ability to engage, be happy, and function effectively. For young people, 8-12 hours of sleep per night is absolutely necessary, even more so during the tumultuous years of puberty. Yet, as schools, we often do not do enough to work with parents and families to ensure they understand this profound importance. We could solve a significant number of behavioural and emotional issues simply by educating and encouraging responsibility around sleep.

4. Nourishing Diets: Fueling the Mind and Body. What children eat directly impacts their ability to concentrate, regulate their moods, and engage in learning. I had a stark anecdote recently: I spoke to a child who had eaten eight hash browns for morning break. When I asked what they were having for lunch, they replied, "Eight hash browns." "Is this normal?" I asked. "Yes," they said, "Every day." This was a child on free school meals, consuming 16 hash browns a day. How can we possibly expect this child to be happy and engaged in classes? The chances are incredibly low. Getting diet right, starting with the school's own catering offer, is desperately important. Avoiding ultra-processed foods and promoting healthy eating habits are crucial steps towards genuine inclusion, setting children up to be ready to learn.

5. Daily Exercise: The Dynamic Catalyst for Growth. My own recent experience of significantly increasing my exercise has had a massive positive impact on my personal well-being. This isn't unique to adults. Physical activity is not just about physical health; it's intrinsically linked to mental well-being and academic performance. Yet, in schools, we see too many children opting out of exercise, and too many physical education programmes that prioritise "games" or niche activities like skateboarding, thinking they're being "inclusive." While these have their place, they can inadvertently exclude children who truly need consistent, rigorous physical activity. What if schools took responsibility for ensuring every child gets at least 30 minutes of exercise every day, at 70% of their maximum heart rate? The impact on focus, mood, and overall vitality could be immense.

A Call to Action for Authentic Inclusion

These five pillars are not complex. They don't require expensive consultants or convoluted frameworks. They are fundamental, evidence-based practices that underpin a child's ability to learn and thrive. By genuinely focusing on reading, numeracy, sleep, diet, and exercise, we can address many of the underlying issues that contribute to behavioural challenges and learning difficulties, often mislabelled and sensationalised as a "SEND crisis."

Let's move beyond the rhetoric, the superficial metrics, and the industry of anxiety. Let's reclaim the true meaning of inclusion: believing in every child's inherent potential, understanding their individual needs, and providing them with the foundational skills and healthy habits that will empower them to lead fulfilling, happy lives. This is how we truly serve all children, including those with special educational needs and disabilities, and build a genuinely inclusive educational system for the long term.

Reflecting on Your Own Practice:

How do you currently define inclusion in your own professional context, and does this definition align with the broad, holistic view presented in the article?

Think about the "inclusion illusion" described. Are there any practices in your setting that might prioritise data over genuine support for students with additional needs? How could this be re-evaluated?

Considering the five pillars (reading, numeracy, sleep, diet, exercise), which of these areas do you feel your school or setting excels at, and which presents the biggest opportunity for improvement in fostering inclusion?

The article stresses the importance of foundational skills like reading and numeracy. How are these skills explicitly and consistently addressed for all learners in your practice, especially those who are struggling?

Beyond academic support, how do you actively engage with families to promote the non-school-based pillars of inclusion (sleep, diet, exercise) for the well-being of the children you work with?