As a teacher, as an adult, as a person speaking to others, your words matter. Your words can foster a sense of care and belonging. They can tell somebody that you see them, and that you understand them. They can also do the opposite: marking somebody out as lesser, as not valued, as somebody not worth taking time to know. Long after a bruise from an injury might fade, the impact of a hateful word or expression can endure for a lifetime. A throwaway comment that painfully reverberates over the years.

How and why we use the words we do, is something all teachers must reflect on – in every subject and at every level. What words would your students use to describe themselves? How about your colleagues? Have you ever asked? Doing so could tell you a lot about their identity, about what they’re proud of; it will tell you how they wish to be considered.

I am proud to describe myself as a Black African woman, and these words are crucially important to me. The capital ‘B’ refers not just to the colour of my skin – if that were the case, I might call myself ‘black’, with a small ‘b’ – but a large part of my identity. 

That word, and the way it’s written, carries centuries of meaning.

If you were teaching when George Floyd’s death sparked protests around the world, you might have witnessed how centuries of meaning can reverberate with impact in the present. If black or brown students in your class showed anger, upset, aggression, how did you respond?

Did you respond as you would respond to other traumas?

As a teacher, you have the power to soothe, elevate and celebrate in a way that is witnessed by children whose minds and opinions are still developing. It’s a scary place to be sometimes, with plenty of room to make mistakes. Perhaps you worry that you will use the wrong words. Say the wrong thing. Look ignorant or stupid.

Do you stay silent as a result?

“If you are neutral in situations of injustice,” said Desmond Tutu, “you have chosen the side of the oppressor.”

I know there will be some teachers reading this who feel uncomfortable. For some teachers, the statements here will be challenging, because they are asking the reader to look inside themselves and be honest about what they see. If that is your experience now, I want you to lean into it. I want you to get comfortable with that discomfort – because this is the only way you can learn, and grow, and change.

These statements are asking what you are doing to make every child, in every school, feel not only seen but celebrated. Because what you are doing and saying in your classroom, in your staff room, in your school corridors, has an impact that rebounds across communities.

Start by taking a good look around you. You might be working in a school with little diversity in terms of the overall student population – but that doesn’t mean you don’t need to work hard at teaching the values of equity, belonging and inclusion in your curriculum. In fact, it could be argued that you need to work even harder.

• Do pupils see diverse role models on the walls?
• How diverse is your staff team – from the senior leadership level right through to administrators and technicians?
• How representative  are the speakers pupils hear from throughout the year – are they from all sectors of industry and walks of life? 
• Which texts are your learners reading, and what impactful words do they contain?
• What are you actively doing to challenge racist attitudes
• What is being said and heard around you; around your pupils?

These questions, this article, this short collection of paragraphs, is only a brief introduction to the practice of anti-racism. The muscles you use as a teacher, to keep up this practice, need constant flexing. Along the way you may often feel confused and out of your depth. But please don’t throw down the towel and give it all up.

There are huge communities out there to help you along, if you can only stay open-minded to learning. Keep listening; keep curious; keep enquiring. When you find the words that heal, that strengthen our links to each other, that nurture belonging and empower students to thrive, you will be well on your way to speaking the language the world needs to hear right now.

The change starts here, with one little word; just three letters: y-o-u.