What are your definitions of inclusion and equity? How have these definitions been shaped and developed throughout your experiences?

I think part of the problem in the field, in terms of moving policy and practices, is that there are so many definitions, and, of course, behind the definitions, so many perspectives. Sometimes we think we are talking about the same thing, when, in fact, we are not. Each of us has a different version of what is happening, and I think that can be an enormous barrier to progress in the field. My own thinking has developed over many years. I did a guide for UNESCO with a group of colleagues in 2017 for ensuring inclusion and equity in education. The guide is available on the UNESCO website, and offers definitions of inclusion and equity. We summed it up in a principle, which is: every learner matters and matters equally. 

My work now continues the journey of learning and development, and it is very much based on that principle. And I see it as a principle. As far as inclusion is concerned, from work we did over 20 years ago, with a network of schools in England, with my colleagues Alan Dyson and Tony Booth, I developed a view of inclusion, which I think is still present in my thinking: inclusion is a process, not a state. That is to say, it is a journey, moving forward, trying to find better ways of reaching those children that we are not reaching at the moment. The implication of that, logically, is that there is no such thing as an “inclusive school”; it is an impossibility. There will always be new children who will come along who have new challenges, which means that, in fact, the school must think again about what they have to do. 

This is why I see inclusion as a process — a never-ending journey — and schools that have made a lot of progress on that journey think in that way. I can think of one or two schools where I have taken visitors, and I have said to those involved that we are bringing them because of their inclusive education. Teachers in these schools have often said: “No, we have not made it. We have made a lot of progress, but we still have to deal with new children who have come along.” So, inclusion is a process. For me, it is about addressing barriers, and that is a fundamental concept in my thinking.

In fact, the concept of barriers is an essential theme in recent global policy debates on education. A key focus internationally now is Sustainable Development Goal 4, published in 2016, which emphasizes addressing barriers to education. However, to be clear, my version of barriers is about the context. As soon as we hear the word “barrier,” for understandability reasons, some people will think about the child and say: “Well, what is wrong with the child, with his or her circumstances, with the family, etc.?” Of course, that is the old way of thinking, in my view—the deficit thinking, associated with the field of special education. 

I should explain that I come from the world of special education. I was a special education teacher and a special school director. So, the idea that this is about “fixing children” is a real barrier. My view of barriers is about the context: the curriculum, which can be a barrier for some children if it is not designed to take them into consideration; the forms of assessment we use to celebrate progress; and the fact is the idea of not celebrating the progress of some children who are making quite slow progress. It is about our approaches to school and teacher development, for example, not having practices that enable teachers to plan a lesson where all children can feel valued and welcomed, and make progress. 

So, for me, inclusion is not about any particular group of children. It is about all children. People are sometimes a bit surprised by that. I say: “Well, you have to be careful not to overlook some children.” For example, I think about one secondary school I worked with, where they became concerned with “invisible children.” They observed that part of the problem in the school was having children who were not on a “list” — not classified as being vulnerable. They are invisible. When you speak to them, they also feel invisible. Nobody knows their name, who they are. So, in a sense, they are included in that they are there, but they do not feel recognized and welcomed for what they contribute. 

Thus, for me, inclusion is about a journey of addressing contextual barriers that might affect the progress of all children. But, of course, logically and professionally, we have a moral duty to watch out for those children who will feel or are vulnerable to marginalization or to exclusion. So, for me, the idea of inclusion and equity is really a form of school improvement. I call it “school improvement with attitude,” based on the principle, every learner matters, and matters equally.  But I reserve the right to continue changing my view of all that, as I have new experiences.

Considering those invisible people, how can we ensure meaningful inclusion for all students, including those who are marginalized? How can school systems be adapted to support the needs of every child?

Well, because I see inclusion as a process of school improvement with attitude, a lot of my work has involved me working with schools, usually and typically with groups and networks of schools. What I do with my colleagues from different universities is asking schools that we partner with to create what we usually call a “school inquiry group.” It is made up of members of staff who will inquire into their school. What we ask them to do, first of all, is to think about who are the children who they think are vulnerable, what do they know about these children, or what do they need to know in order to decide what else needs to happen. So, this process of improvement involves inquiry by collecting and engaging with evidence. 

I am absolutely convinced that evidence of various kinds can be a catalyst for inclusive development: observations, statistical data, questionnaires and other sorts of ways of generating evidence. But it seems to me that the most powerful evidence is when we listen to the views of children. That enables us to see the school and the classroom through the eyes of those who are there to learn. Of course, that evidence can sometimes be very challenging — if not, disturbing to people. So, all of this has to be managed very carefully and sensitively because it can create a negative reaction. This is why it is a process of development that is evidence-driven, that makes you think in new ways. 

Another set of evidence, which is, in my view, extremely crucial, is when that teachers have opportunities to observe one another work. I go to schools, sometimes, and say to school leaders: “Do your teachers see each other teach?” And sometimes they say: “Well, we would like them to, but the trouble is that there is not enough time.” My response is that if, like me, you believe that developing the professional learning of your staff will improve the learning of their students, you will find time. In schools, time is the currency we use to determine if something is important. I am not saying there is an easy answer to this, but I am convinced that it is necessary. That is why it is a process of school development. It will not happen by any chance; it requires sensitive leadership, but also caring leadership, sensitive to the challenges that people in schools face. 

In fact, I often say to people: “Being a teacher is the most difficult and demanding job.” People who are not teachers can never understand this. Teachers are always so tired, and if you have been a teacher, you know why you are tired. You are physically tired because you are on your feet all the time. However, teachers are often intellectually tired because they are constantly planning and replanning. And of course, they are emotionally tired as well because there are people who are draining them. I do not just mean the children but senior staff members. You will not get school development without teacher development. And so, as well as finding time, there must be forms of leadership that enable teachers to start and continue the process of professional learning.

So, it is a collective responsibility, and school leaders must adapt their leadership style. In this sense, could you elaborate on the importance of the concepts of “collaborated inquiry” that you evoked in many of your articles?

We are talking about redefining the school as a workplace, where not only children are being seen as learners, but adults too. So, as well as this being about leadership, of course, it is about culture. It is about the way in which people relate to one another in schools. The famous psychologists, Johnson and Johnson, were the architects of the idea of cooperative learning. They said that there are three types of organizations: the “individual organization,” where people just do their own thing and look after themselves; this very often translates into a second kind of organization, which is a “competitive organization,” where people are actually rather pleased if somebody else does not do very well.  They argue that the way forward is to collaborate where your progress, your success and everything that you are doing are interdependent with the success of other people you work with. So, the idea of linking leadership and organizational culture is absolutely crucial for me. 

Another researcher, Edgar Schein, said years ago: culture and leadership are two sides of the same coin, and I think that we are talking about the same thing in the process of school development, based on the principles of inclusion and equity — every learner matters and matters equally. It involves the professional development of adults, including teachers and support staff, as well as a culture of collaboration. So, if somebody has a problem is struggling and having difficulty, they are not solving it on their own. They know that they can turn to their colleagues, and they will get support. Inclusion is a core responsibility. Often, when people discuss inclusion, they ask: “Whose job is it?” My response is that it cannot be assigned to just one person — it has to be everyone’s responsibility.

You mentioned barriers and addressing them. We’re not there yet, as this requires reforming education systems. Why do you think education systems have failed to achieve that? 

It varies from country to country, within countries, and between schools. And I think that context matters. There are countries in the world where there has been considerable progress, and we have to look at them, not because they will tell us exactly what to do — for context matters — but partly as an inspiration and partly, to point to the actions that need to be taken. 

The country that I most quote — and I do not want to idealize it, because it has its problems—is Portugal. It has had a long journey toward inclusive education for over 20 years, when they closed all their special provisions, and moved the expertise into mainstream schools. Schools in Portugal are organized into local area clusters, where each school has a director elected by the school community, including families. This director serves for four years, after which another election is held. The director may serve an additional four-year term, but after that, a new person must be appointed. This creates an atmosphere of working together, not just within schools, but also between different schools. Networks of schools can add value to what individual schools are doing, and that clearly is the evidence from Portugal. 

The other thing that is very striking about the Portuguese education system that there is a very clear articulation of what the priorities are. So, one of the things that they say in Portugal — I have heard the minister say it and then, people in schools — is that it is not necessary to categorize in order to intervene. So, they try to follow this thinking — and it is not always completely possible. Of course, it is part of the human condition to categorize. But they try, if possible, to resist categorization. And so, there is a sense that everybody is working for all children. It has taken, as I say, over 20 years to get to where they are today. And they still have problems and challenges, of course.

Now, if you would want to have a bad example — sorry to say — then you would come here, where I am, in England because we are on the other end of the spectrum. We have an education system, not based on collaboration, but based on competition between schools. State schools are relatively autonomous, a bit like the charter schools in the United States. Their performance — and that is the word that is used — is regularly measured based on national test scores and a system of national inspections. These scores and the inspection reports are all in the newspapers. This is based on the rationale that, if there is competition, families will have choices, and that this will encourage schools to try and work harder. 

There is a certain kind of logic in this. The only thing is that it does not work because it operates within a society marked by enormous differences between the wealth of different families. So by and large, the people who get the most choices are the ones who do not have to pay for it — they know how to play the system. On the other hand, the children or the families who have the least choices are those from the most economically disadvantaged backgrounds.  

That being said, there are many good things of course in England but the consequence of that — and it is sad to say — is that we have very high levels of exclusions. I have lost track of the figures, but there are a lot of children out of school, excluded because of behaviour, which is the product of the competitive approach to policy. If you have a competition, you get winners, and the only way you can get winners is by creating losers. Now, that is probably alright in the market or the shopping mall, but we cannot have a national education system that is designed to create losers. However, that is what we have got and sadly, we are seeing an expansion of special education provision of various kinds as well. 

In summary, then, you have to look at the development of inclusive education systems context by a context. It is a core business in terms of how we manage education.

These two examples are particularly significant, as they might illustrate the impact of neoliberal systems on reframing the concept of equity and transforming education into services. On the other hand, when considering countries in the Global South that are directly or indirectly affected by these neoliberal systems, what strategies or approaches can they adopt to advance their educational systems to promote equity and inclusion? 

We are reminded that this is much about politics with a capital “p” and a small “p.” It is a political discussion we are having about power and decision-making. The story I shared about Portugal is set in a fairly sophisticated system democracy with high levels of participation, not just in education, but in society as well. Among the 17 Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), education — specifically SDG 4 — is fundamental. It serves as a key to achieving all the other goals: strengthening democracy, social life, political engagement, and economic vitality requires investment in education. I go further and say: it necessitates investment in education for all, emphasizing inclusion and equity. So, whilst this is about improving education systems, it is much more about the development of societies.

In relation to this agenda, each of us has our own stance and position, and we all have our purposes. I see myself as some kind of researcher, but more than anything else, I see myself as an activist. I do not pretend to be neutral. I am trying to convince people. This is why I look for examples — whether it is individual schools, neighborhoods, or countries — to say: “Well, let us look and see what they are doing, what we can learn and if we can raise our expectations of what is possible.” But it is a never-ending struggle. That is for sure.

I think what we have also got to demonstrate — and again, this is why Portugal is a good example — that if you go down this road, everybody will benefit. In other words, I argue that an emphasis on inclusion and equity is a pathway to excellence. However, the suggestion that, developing an education system which particularly focuses on the most vulnerable children will benefit everybody is, for some people, counterintuitive. Surely, if you start to spend a lot of time on children who need a lot of attention, then others will be disadvantaged. 

Now, I am not pretending all of that is easy, but I have seen other examples — including some in my city of Manchester—of schools that have gone down the road, and, over many years, it is clear that their emphasis on inclusion and equity has actually made their school a better place. That has reflected, interestingly enough, in test scores and in inspection reports. I think about one particular school where it was determined by the national inspection service that it was outstanding. That is what it was designated as, and it had been on the journey of inclusion, to my knowledge, for at least 10 years. So, that is the argument I try to put. This is a central issue, and if you can make progress, it will simply make the education system and schools excellent and more effective for all children.

At the same time, all of this is a struggle. You have to demonstrate within a country what is possible and then, perhaps, draw attention to other countries. I think you have to say: “Let us see if we can make something happen here. Let us work with a school or, better,” as I have said, “work with groups of schools.” And let us demonstrate, by moving in this kind of direction, that we will see an improvement in the quality of education provided for all children, linking inclusion and equity to excellence. 

In fact, the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) said years ago that inclusion and equity are the road to excellence. Now, I fundamentally believe that, but we have to keep demonstrating it. In countries where this sort of thing is quite alien, I think that it is still the same argument that you must use. For instance, I have been working in countries in Latin America, including Chile, which is one of the most advanced countries as far as the southern neoliberal approach is concerned. The education system there is fragmented and highly competitive. But working with local colleagues, I have seen that, even within this unhelpful policy context, progress regarding inclusion and equity can be made. So, in summary, you have to start from where the country is situated, and demonstrate that progress is possible.

Nowadays, there is an interesting connection between what is the role of research and researchers. This is still a matter of enormous debate. There is lots of literature about it, and, obviously, different positions. I take the view that research and researchers can contribute to these kinds of developments, but they have to get their hands dirty. It is not about writing papers and articles that nobody reads. It is about being in the field and working alongside colleagues in schools and creating what I call an “inquiring stance.” That is to say, creating within the culture of schools an emphasis on evidence, and questioning and thinking about: “Who are the children who are missing out, and why are they missing out ? What could we do about it?”

You explained how context matters, how inquiry stances and communities of practice are necessary for schools to improve. Do you have examples from disadvantaged contexts?

I have had some experience — I would not want to overstate it — of working in fairly disadvantaged parts of the world. In practice, the constraints are varied and you have got to be realistic about these, but the thinking has to be the same. For instance, we worked for some years in a rural district in the north of Zambia. My colleagues and I from the university became attached to a particular school district, which was mainly made up of isolated schools in the bush. We followed the same thinking that I have talked about. I was reminded of this recently because I found some photographs that we took in one particular school in this rural district. We asked the children to do various inquiries into their own school and circumstances, working alongside their teachers. For example, we provided them with cameras and they took pictures around their school or community. We asked them to address the same issue: “What are the barriers that young people experience?” We then got them to map these barriers using flip charts, and so on. This was very interesting because some of these barriers were not that different from what we hear in countries in the Global North. 

However, there were issues unique to their circumstances. Children in Zambia, particularly when they reach the age of 10 or 11, have jobs to do at home, specifically girls who have certain responsibilities. In some cases, too, girls are married quite early, so school education is no longer on their agenda. 

The children took pictures of areas around the school that create barriers. One striking thing — and it always strikes me as odd — is that when you ask children to take photographs around their school, addressing the theme of “Where do you feel most welcome?” and “Where do you feel most isolated?” — it does not matter whether they are in Australia or Zambia — almost always, children take photographs of toilets. This reminds us, as adults, of how significant that aspect of being part of the school community is: where you go to the toilets. In developed countries, toilets are often social areas, particularly among teenagers. They go there to hang out, to have a sly cigarette if they can, to meet friends, and to make arrangements. That being said, some of the girls in Zambia mentioned that on certain days, they do not go to school because the toilets are not concealed. There is no privacy. On certain days of the month, they simply do not want to be in school. When I asked about barriers, it opened all sorts of possibilities that are part of the life of the students in their school, whether in a poor, isolated, rural district, in what is sometimes called “the Third World,” or whether it is here, in the UK.

Recently, in one of your conferences, you shared practices from your international experiences, demonstrating that inclusive practices can be implemented in any context, regardless of policies and oppressive systems. Does this suggest that inclusion might not be as complex as it is often perceived to be? Also, could inclusion be tied to individual initiatives or personal decisions made by educators?

There is a danger that, because I have to convince people, I might overstate things and make it sound simple, when in fact, of course, it is not. What we are talking about is complex in all sorts of ways, including being socially complex and trying to engage people. 

Around 1999 or 2000, a group of us in England developed the Index for Inclusion, which is a school review and development instrument. We developed it for use in England. What we had not anticipated is that it would have legs: because of Internet, it is now available in more than 40 languages and is used all over the world. 

The Index is arguably the most sophisticated analysis of what an inclusive school looks like, and that is its great strength. Its weakness, however, is that it is quite difficult to use because, of course, it digs into all the complexity. For example, when we were field-testing an earlier version of the Index, I remember leaving it with the deputy principal of a secondary school. I said: “If you have a look at this, I will come back.” So, I went back and said to him: “So, what do you think about our Index?” He said: “Oh, it is very interesting,” and then added, “but the trouble is, it is about everything.” And I said: “Yes, that is it. It is about everything.” When we talk about how we make a school more inclusive, it is about everything. It is not a separate project. It is the central process of school development and improvement. So, in one sense, it is simple to describe in a conversation like this, but in practical terms, it is very complicated and very challenging.

Concerning individual initiatives, I would say, yes, obviously, individuals will make a difference. When I am working with schools, I am always watching out for what we are sometimes calling people who are “movers and shakers” — those who can make things happen. Once you have located these people, they are the ones to invest in. Sometimes, they are not necessarily the most visible people. Nonetheless, there may be somebody else in the school who is particularly driven and whom you can work with. But, as I said earlier, it has got to be about groups of people. Individuals can kick-start things, but it is about bringing people together, and so on. That is why, in lots of the writing I do, I tell a lot of stories. I think stories capture individual cases and instances of what is happening. But I also hope that the stories challenge other people to think about: “well, what can we do in our context?” I think stories can be very powerful.

Many universities and organizations in the Global North have established an EDI (Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion) committee. However, there seems to be a lack of courage to address or denounce injustices, genocides and oppression in the World. That being said, how can we empower these individual educators to promote inclusion, equity and justice as well?

I think, in the field, particularly in schools, we always find people who are up for it, who want to make it happen. It is not a magic solution to all those kinds of macro challenges, but again, as I keep saying, if we work with those people and demonstrate the possibilities, maybe we will gradually convince them. I am in the city of Manchester, which was the first industrial city. Currently, there are 150 languages spoken in our schools, and 60% of our children are bilingual. Now, for a long time, that was seen as an enormous problem, and of course, it still can be. I do not want to minimize that. But gradually, what we have seen is that the system has “matured” in relation to its capacity and, particularly, the capacity of teachers and school leaders, to see the benefits of this diversity. And so, this has happened in Manchester, as well as in other cities in the UK. Gradually, diversity has become a stimulus for improvement, and schools that are in the toughest environments have demonstrated what is possible. Now, this then can create a kind of ripple effect: “Look what is happening there.” And suddenly, in some of the improvement projects I am involved with, we have deliberately set out to orchestrate that. In one project, for example, we talked about the most challenging schools as the “keys to success.” The idea was that we needed to give these schools to become places of innovation that demonstrate what is possible. We have documented quite a lot of evidence that this can work. That being said, it is not easy work, and it helps if we have some money to invest in it. And of course, that is another challenge. But I think we have demonstrated that diversity can stimulate innovation and the creative process of improvement that benefits the many — not just the few.

So, in practice, how are inclusive practices observed in the schools? 

I am more and more convinced that the voice of children and young people is possibly the most powerful lever for change. For example, I have recently been involved in a large-scale initiative in a city in Scotland. The project is called Every Dundee Learner Matters. It is based in the city of Dundee, which presents a particularly challenging environment. Over the past three years, we have worked with individual schools, setting up inquiry teams. We have encouraged schools to work in partnerships, and one of the key activities within these partnerships was what we call peer inquiry. This involves educators from different schools visiting one another’s schools: observing lessons, talking to children, examining statistics, reviewing children’s work, and so on. This creates professional debates, which when it works well — and it does not always — benefit the whole school. 

Typically, we organize schools into trios, where two other schools generate evidence in the school that they are visiting. When this works well, it also benefits visiting schools. Whenever possible — which is not very often, I admit — I shadow some of these peer inquiry visits and I get involved. However, the most important thing is not what I hear and see, but what the professionals themselves hear and see, because they can give a more sophisticated analysis of the practices within the schools. The other thing that I think is a critical part of this work is that it builds on expertise by creating a common language so that people can talk about what they do. One of the challenges in helping schools move forward is that, although marvelous work is going on, teachers find it difficult to talk about and describe what they do. They are too busy doing the work on their own. So, through the process of inquiry within and between schools, we gradually develop a language of practice. In this way, people can actually share ideas, share examples and also be more self-aware. This self-awareness connects to the concept of a reflective practitioner: they can talk about their own practices. I think that kind of inquiry — and we as external researchers can contribute to that — stimulates and offers technical advice on what are the best ways to do focus group interviews and observations.

Finally, what advice would you give to young researchers who are challenged in the field and are pushed to categorize in their own research projects? 

Over the years, I have had a number of PhD students who have done very good dissertations and, in so doing, have also contributed to the schools they worked with. I think being there for extended periods is very important. It is not about “quick-fix solutions”; it is about spending time in the field. 

For example, I have had several PhD students who spent almost a whole year working in one particular school. Now, it is quite difficult to get access on that basis, but when it does happen, the researcher-student becomes a player because they are there, not necessarily every day, but many days, and they become integrated into what is happening.

I wrote a book with one of my PhD students — or, in fact, she wrote the book and I helped — but it was based on her spending a whole year in a tough secondary school in this city. She really became part of the school by immersing herself as a participant observer. However, achieving this level of integration is a challenge, and every case is different, I think. 

For data collection, I generally favor group analysis, where we work collaboratively with the participants. For example, in the schools where my colleagues and I have conducted research, we often wrote accounts of practices based on what we had heard and seen over the years. These accounts were then negotiated with key individuals in each school in a way that was intended to add value to what the school was doing. At the same time, it gave us deeper insights as to what this account meant to them in the field. It is quite time-consuming and labor intensive.