The difference between support that exists and support a pupil can actually use. Read the full article A pupil can be on roll, in the building and named on every relevant support document and still not experience inclusion. The provision usually works. It works when the SENCO is available, the timetable runs smoothly and the familiar teaching assistant is in. Then there's a wet Tuesday morning. Two staff absent. The corridor already overloaded. And the pathway that looked clear on paper...

Hi Reader, The same child struggles at the same transition.The same member of staff absorbs the fallout.The same manager avoids the same difficult conversation.Eventually, someone suggests more training, another policy or a new wellbeing initiative.But something about this keeps bothering me:If the same pressure keeps returning in the same place, why do we keep treating it as an individual problem?Repeated pressure often gathers around predictable moments: morning transitions, attendance...

Hi Reader, There is often one person who makes everything work. The teacher who notices the change in a child before anybody else. The teaching assistant who knows exactly how to help them enter the classroom. The pastoral lead who can calm a worried parent. The SENCO who remembers every detail. The parent who spends each morning carefully holding the routine together. Their care makes an enormous difference. It can also hide how fragile the pathway has become. What happens when that person...

Hi Reader, You may have a child or learner who looks as though they are coping. They arrive at school. They get through the lessons. They follow enough of the routine to avoid becoming the obvious concern. At home, something very different may be happening. The morning begins with refusal, panic or shutdown. After school, the child falls apart. Parents are managing arguments, tears, slammed doors, screen-time battles and the growing fear that tomorrow will begin exactly the same way. School...

Hi Reader, If family life keeps breaking down in the same places, it can start to feel like you’re failing.The hard mornings.The after-school explosions.The screen-off arguments.The shutdowns, meltdowns, school worries, bedtime battles, parent-school tension, guilt, guessing and emotional exhaustion.And when you’re parenting a neurodivergent pre-teen or teen, those moments can become even harder to hold.Not because you don’t care enough.Not because you’re not trying hard enough.But because...

Hi Reader, This week, a blog post I shared on LinkedIn about evidencing inclusion from September 2026 started a bigger conversation than I expected. Read it hereThe part people seemed to connect with most was this:It is no longer enough to say, “we responded.” The better question is: What became safer, clearer, more regulated, more trusted or more workable afterwards?That question matters for schools. It matters for families. It matters for leaders carrying the pressure of both. Because so...

Hi Reader A few days ago, I wrote about this idea: The paperwork is not the proof. The pattern change is the proof. I wanted to follow up with something more practical. Because whether you are a parent, a school leader, a SENDCO, an inclusion lead, a manager, an HR professional or the person everyone comes to when things get difficult, the question is often not: “Do we care?” It is: How do we know whether something is actually changing - without drowning people in more paperwork, pressure or...

Hi Reader, There’s been a moment I keep noticing. At home. In schools. In workplaces. In leadership teams. In families. When something happens on the surface. A child refusing to go through the door. A parent sending the long emotive email. A member of staff snapping in a meeting. A manager avoiding a conversation. A team keeps escalating the same issue upwards. A young person is “fine all day” and then falls apart at home. Very quickly, the question becomes: “How do we stop this behaviour?”...

Hi Reader, If you are here because family life keeps breaking in the same places, I want to say gently. You are not failing because the same moments keep repeating. The school morning that goes wrong before anyone has even found their shoes. The after-school explosion that seems to come from nowhere. The bedtime battle that leaves everyone exhausted. The screen transition that turns into shouting, tears, guilt and that awful feeling of: “Why are we here again?” When you are living inside...