Mainstream Inclusion Strategies: finding the priorities that matter

 

I have been thinking a lot about the DfE Mainstream Inclusion Strategy guidance, which is not a sentence I imagine will make anyone immediately abandon their cup of tea in excitement. But, it does create an opportunity for schools to do something useful: to look carefully at who is finding school hardest to access, what barriers are predictable in their context, what is already working, and what needs to become sharper. The alternative is less appealing: another carefully written document that says the right things and then sits on a school website, detached from the decisions being made in classrooms, leadership meetings and pupil progress conversations.

That would be a shame, because the work could be powerful. Schools are being asked to set out how they are identifying and meeting the needs of their pupils, how funding is being used, and how inclusive practice is being strengthened. This includes the Inclusive Mainstream Fund, but it is not just about that fund. It sits within a much bigger picture of core funding, notional SEN funding, staffing, training, curriculum, leadership, provision and school improvement.

The risk is that the inclusion strategy becomes a separate 'inclusion thing'. If it sits politely (or slightly plonked) next to the SEND Information Report while the School Development Plan carries on somewhere else, then inclusion has already been treated as a side project rather than part of the core work of the school. I recognise I pretty much said the same thing about the Ofsted inclusion judgement, but apparently this is the educational hill I am currently choosing to stand on.

Most of us have had what could fairly be described as an 'Acaster' moment. A deadline appears, someone remembers that something needs publishing, and suddenly a perfectly reasonable piece of work turns into a frantic cut-and-paste situation with far too many tabs open and at least one person saying, 'I'm sure we've got something on this already?' Usually schools do have something on it. In fact, they usually have a lot on it. The question is whether it is joined up enough to be useful.

Starting from what schools are already doing

Across our Trust, schools are already working incredibly hard on inclusion. Leaders are trying to understand pupils properly, teachers are adapting practice, SENCos are holding together a huge amount of complexity, support staff are building independence and confidence, family-facing staff are doing quiet but vital work that never fits neatly into a spreadsheet, and headteachers are making difficult decisions with care and integrity. Some of that work is clearly linked to SEND, but much of it is wider: attendance, disadvantage, speech and language, behaviour, emotional wellbeing, family context, transition, gaps in learning and the everyday barriers that can stop pupils fully participating in school life.

The hard work and dedication sits in schools. My role, which I feel very lucky to have, is strategic oversight: helping schools bring that work to the surface, look at it more critically, and identify priorities more robustly and precisely. That is very different from pretending that inclusion is somehow 'done' by the Trust centre. It isn't.

What can happen, though, particularly when schools are doing a lot, is that the work becomes scattered. Some of the inclusion story sits in the SEND Information Report. Some of it sits in the School Development Plan. Some of it sits in the Pupil Premium Strategy, Behaviour Policy, Attendance Policy, Accessibility Plan, provision maps, intervention trackers, transition processes, CPD plans and curriculum reviews. None of those things are wrong. They all hold part of the picture. The issue is whether they tell the same story when you put them together.

From provision lists to impact

The inclusion strategy needs to help schools answer three connected questions: who are our pupils, and what barriers are commonly occurring and predictable in our context; how strong is our universal offer; and where universal provision is not enough, what targeted support do we provide, and how do we know it works?

They are simple questions to ask, but not always simple to answer well. They ask schools to go beyond listing what is available and to think carefully about whether the offer is coherent, balanced and having the intended impact. A school can have a lot of provision and still not have a strong inclusion strategy.

A school might have interventions, nurture groups, sensory resources, visual timetables, transition support, family meetings, emotional regulation work, additional adult support and bespoke spaces. On paper, that can look really strong, and it may well reflect an enormous amount of care, skill and commitment. But leaders still need to ask what all of that provision is actually doing. If some pupils are still struggling to retain and apply learning independently, if progress remains slow, if attendance or participation remains fragile, or if pupils are spending increasing amounts of time away from the classroom, then the provision offer needs to be examined without that feeling like a criticism of anyone’s intentions.

That is not me saying wellbeing, nurture or regulation are optional. They are essential. Children do not learn well if they feel unsafe, misunderstood or permanently overwhelmed. But provision can be caring and still not be enough. An intervention can be well-run and still not transfer into the classroom. A bespoke space can help a child feel safe and still need careful review so it does not accidentally become a separate pathway with lower ambition. A teaching assistant can be excellent and still be part of a deployment model that needs rethinking.

That is where the inclusion strategy could become genuinely useful: as a reason to pause, gather the right people and ask whether the provision offer really matches the needs and barriers in front of us.

Inclusion is bigger than SEND

It is worth saying this clearly before getting into the examples: this is not intended to become a SEND strategy with a different title. SEND is an important part of the story, but it is not the whole story.

The DfE guidance talks about commonly occurring and predictable barriers, and schools know those barriers extend beyond pupils on the SEND register. Attendance, disadvantage, speech and language, behaviour, emotional wellbeing, mobility, pupils learning English as an additional language, young carers, pupils experiencing trauma, pupils with inconsistent attendance and pupils with gaps in prior learning do not sit neatly inside one category.

That is why the work has been approached as an inclusion strategy rather than a SEND strategy. The process should help schools ask: who is finding it hardest to fully participate in school, what barriers are predictable in our context, what are we already doing well, and where are the gaps?

Some of the examples in this blog focus on SEND because they illustrate the principles clearly, but the thinking is deliberately wider. The same process applies when considering disadvantage, attendance, behaviour, language development, wider vulnerability and any barrier that prevents pupils fully participating in school life. 

Using the seven lenses to look at the whole school

The seven lenses are useful because they stop inclusion being reduced to SEND interventions, individual pupils, or the work of the SENCo. They give schools a way of looking across leadership, early support, teaching, curriculum, provision beyond the classroom, culture, family partnership, wider services and the physical environment, so that the strategy reflects the whole school rather than one part of it.

That breadth is important as inclusion rarely sits neatly in one place. It shows up in the curriculum, the classroom, the playground, attendance practice, behaviour systems, family relationships, safeguarding conversations, staff development, transition planning, pupil voice and governance. The purpose, though, is not to write about all seven lenses in full or to create an enormous document that tries to prove everything. The lenses are there to help schools look carefully at what is already happening, notice where the story is strong, and identify gaps, inconsistencies or assumptions that need testing. The examples from Lens 3 and Lens 4 are snapshots. They are not the whole strategy, and they are not intended as a model for every school to copy or think we have everything wrapped up and finalised. They simply show how exemplification can help schools move from 'we do lots of things' to 'we understand why we do this, who it helps, what it changes, and what needs strengthening next.'

 

A Trust framework, but school-led priorities

The strategy has been designed to sit within the school improvement cycle, not outside it. That means starting with a Trust-level framework and some shared principles, but not pretending that every school has the same context, the same cohort, the same strengths or the same priorities. A small rural primary, a coastal school with higher levels of deprivation, an infant school, a junior school, a school with a resource provision, and a school with a very different intake profile cannot all have the same inclusion strategy in any meaningful sense.

There can be shared expectations and a common language, but the priorities need to come from the school’s own analysis. That is why the most important part of this process is not the writing. It is the thinking before the writing. What do we know about our pupils? What patterns are emerging? Which needs are commonly occurring and predictable? What barriers are showing up in attendance, behaviour, attainment, progress, participation and pupil voice? Where is provision strong? Where is it busy but unclear? Where do we have impact, and where do we mainly have activity?

That distinction between activity and impact is one schools have to keep coming back to, because education is very good at creating activity. We can generate meetings, plans, interventions, trackers, forms, referrals and reviews at quite astonishing speed. The harder thing is working out what has changed because of them.

Lens 3: high-quality teaching and curriculum

Lens 3 is a useful place to start because it takes the inclusion conversation back into the ordinary classroom. It asks whether the universal offer is strong enough, whether common barriers are being anticipated, and whether adaptations are helping pupils access the same ambitious curriculum as their peers. That is relevant for pupils with SEND, but also for any pupil or group experiencing language, learning, participation or independence barriers.

The overview makes the responsibility clear without turning inclusion into something separate from teaching: inclusive practice begins in the ordinary classroom, not once a pupil has struggled for long enough to be given something additional. The ordinary classroom offer has to anticipate common barriers, keep curriculum ambition intact and make sure support staff are helping pupils move towards independence rather than becoming the only route into the work.

This is where inclusion becomes very ordinary, and that is a compliment. It is not always the huge, dramatic thing. Often it is the quality of the model, the clarity of the explanation, the worked example, the vocabulary that is actually taught rather than just displayed, the adult who knows when to step in and when to wait, and the teacher who checks that an adaptation has supported access without quietly lowering the ambition.

The subject-specific adaptive teaching guides are included here because they show how a priority can become more precise. 'Improve adaptive teaching' is a worthy aim, but it is too broad on its own. The real question is what adaptive teaching needs to look like in writing, PE, history, geography, art or mathematics, because each subject places different demands on pupils.

The exemplification is not the point in itself. The point is the process behind it: identifying a recurring barrier, considering where it appears across the curriculum, and making the response visible enough that teachers, support staff and leaders can talk about it consistently. It is a way of surfacing practice that may already exist in pockets, noticing where it is strong, and deciding what needs to be more consistent.

The writing example shows how existing practice can be brought to the surface and examined more deliberately. A shared visual language may already be visible in classrooms, working walls, planning frames and pupil books, but the strategy process asks leaders to look again at what that practice is doing. Is it reducing cognitive load? Is it helping pupils organise ideas before writing? Is it supporting oral rehearsal? Is it being used consistently enough to make a difference? Is it gradually moving pupils towards more independent sentence construction? These are the kinds of questions that turn an existing approach from 'something we use' into something that can be evaluated and refined.

The 'different routes into the same learning' example helps sharpen the distinction between adaptation and reduction. Adaptations should reduce specific barriers while keeping pupils connected to the shared curriculum. They should increase participation, regulation and independence, not quietly move pupils onto something smaller. That distinction is important for pupils with SEND, but also for pupils whose barriers come from gaps in knowledge, language development, confidence, attendance or previous experience of learning.

This is why the universal offer has to do the heavy lifting. Targeted support has its place, of course it does, but it should not become the place where inclusion mainly happens. If the classroom offer is not strong enough, schools end up building more and more around the edges, and pupils can become supported without being fully included.

The Acorn Centre example shows how specialist expertise can strengthen mainstream teaching when the knowledge does not stay in a separate specialist space. For schools with specialist provision, enhanced provision or staff with particular expertise, the strategy process can help leaders ask how that knowledge is moving across the wider school and whether the universal offer is becoming stronger as a result.

Lens 4: provision beyond the classroom

Lens 4 helps schools look at the parts of inclusion that can be easy to value but harder to evaluate. Many schools have thoughtful spaces, nurture offers, pastoral approaches, clubs, enrichment, transition support, social communication groups, emotional regulation work and wider participation opportunities. These are often built with care, and they can make a significant difference to pupils’ sense of safety, belonging and confidence.

The strategy process asks schools to go a step further. Are pupils accessing more over time? Are they becoming more confident? Are they developing independence? Are they transferring what they practise in a smaller group back into the classroom, playground, lunch hall or wider school community? Does the provision still match the need, or has it become part of the furniture?

This is not about removing support. It is about making sure support remains purposeful, reviewed and connected to the wider life of the school. A provision that was absolutely right in September may need adapting by February. A child who needed a high level of adult support at one point may need a careful plan to fade that support. A pupil who needed time in a smaller space may need deliberate opportunities to reconnect with peers, curriculum and whole-school life.

Forest School, clubs, leadership opportunities and wider enrichment can all support belonging, regulation and confidence, but the key question is whether pupils are meaningfully participating. It is easy to count attendance at an activity and assume that is inclusion. It is harder, and more useful, to ask whether pupils are contributing, connecting with peers, building confidence and accessing something they would otherwise miss.

Trust-wide opportunities can give pupils access to experiences that smaller schools may find harder to provide on their own. The point is not simply to gather more pupils in a bigger venue; it is to create opportunities for children to perform, lead, communicate, collaborate and feel part of something wider than their own classroom or school.

The stories schools tell about inclusion also need some care. A photograph of a pupil taking part in a themed day, a club, a trip or a practical activity can be lovely, but the point is not 'look, they were included, how nice of us'. Participation alongside peers should be ordinary. It should be designed for. It should not rely on luck, goodwill or one member of staff who knows how to make it work.

The inclusion strategy should help schools think about the systems behind those moments. How do we plan trips, clubs, performances, sports days, themed days and enrichment so that pupils with additional needs are not an afterthought? How do we make sure reasonable adjustments are anticipated rather than improvised? How do we avoid pupils being present but not really participating? That kind of thinking is not glamorous, but it is often where families and pupils feel belonging most strongly.

Transition, because it is never just July

Transition is another area schools often do well but do not always capture strategically. It is not just the move from one school to another. It is also the move from home to school, from playground to classroom, from one adult to another, from one year group to the next, from intervention back to class, from a bespoke pathway towards greater independence, or from absence back into full participation. For some pupils, those transitions are where the wheels come off. For others, they are where good planning makes all the difference.

If the inclusion strategy is doing its job, it should help schools name where transition is a predictable barrier and what they are doing about it. Not as a one-off activity in July, but as part of a planned, reviewed approach that understands where pupils are most likely to need support.

Where does the inclusion story already live?

One of the most useful questions in the whole process is: where does the school's inclusion story already live? It is likely to be spread across policies, plans, curriculum documents, CPD records, attendance work, behaviour reviews, safeguarding conversations, provision mapping, intervention tracking, parent meetings, pupil voice, governor minutes and school development priorities. The task is not to drag all of that into one enormous document. The task is to check whether it tells a coherent story.

If the strategy says high-quality teaching is the priority, that should be visible in the CPD plan. If attendance for particular pupil groups is a concern, it should be visible in attendance analysis and planned action. If pupils need to develop greater independence, that should be visible in teaching practice, TA deployment and provision reviews. If interventions are carefully targeted, leaders should be able to explain how entry and exit points are assessed and how learning transfers back into class.

This is where the inclusion strategy becomes useful: not because it contains everything, but because it helps leaders connect what already exists, notice what is missing, and decide what needs to be sharpened. It should bring strengths to the surface as well as gaps, because schools often have strong practice that is happening quietly but has not yet been named, shared or evaluated as part of the wider strategy.

How schools identify their inclusion priorities

In OCMAT, schools will identify a small number of inclusion priorities through structured evaluation, professional discussion and evidence gathering. The process is deliberately multi-faceted because inclusion itself is multi-faceted. If schools only look through one lens, they are likely to miss something. The process draws on the OCMAT Guiding Principles, the seven lenses of inclusive practice, each school’s knowledge of its pupils, families and local community, and Evaluate My School as a tool to support reflection and evidence gathering.

Each element brings something different. The Trust principles create shared expectations and language. The seven lenses prevent the work becoming too narrow. School knowledge keeps the process grounded in the actual pupils, families and community being served. Evaluate My School supports evidence gathering and helps avoid the vague version of self-evaluation where everything is 'developing well' until somebody asks what that really means.

The strategy should grow out of this process, not be written first and justified afterwards. Priorities need to be few in number and precise enough to shape action. If everything becomes a priority, nothing really is. The aim is to identify where sharper work will make the biggest difference, and then make sure those priorities sit within existing school improvement planning.

Who needs to sit around the table?

If the process is multi-faceted, the conversation cannot sit with one person. The SENCo will hold an essential part of the picture, but so will the headteacher, curriculum leaders, pastoral and attendance staff, family-facing colleagues, safeguarding leads, governors and trustees. Each will see something different. Each will know something different. If the inclusion strategy is going to be accurate, those pieces need bringing together.

SENCos are generally heroic, and also frequently expected to absorb anything that does not fit neatly anywhere else. If it has the word inclusion, SEND, vulnerable, behaviour, family, transition, intervention, adaptation or 'could you just...' attached to it, there is a fair chance it lands with the SENCo. But this strategy cannot be another SENCo job.

The SENCo absolutely needs to be central, because they hold essential knowledge about need, provision, statutory processes and the graduated approach. But senior leaders need to be involved because this is about priorities, accountability and resources. Curriculum and teaching leaders need to be involved because inclusion lives in classrooms. Pastoral, behaviour, attendance and safeguarding colleagues need to be involved because they often hold the lived experience of pupils and families. Governors and trustees need to be involved because this needs scrutiny, not just approval.

If one part of the school thinks inclusion means adaptive teaching, another thinks it means intervention, another thinks it means behaviour support, another thinks it means attendance, and another thinks it means family work, the problem is not that anyone is necessarily wrong. The problem is that the school may not yet have a shared story. The strategy should help build that shared story, and that shared story should feed straight into school development planning.

If the inclusion strategy identifies a priority around classroom scaffolding, that belongs in teaching and learning. If it identifies a priority around attendance for a particular group of pupils, that belongs in attendance strategy. If it identifies a priority around pupils spending too much time away from class, that belongs in leadership, curriculum and provision review. If it identifies a priority around evaluating interventions, that belongs in assessment and pupil progress systems. Otherwise, inclusion becomes an add-on, and inclusion as an add-on is usually where things start to wobble.

So what needs to become sharper?

The strongest inclusion strategies are unlikely to be the longest. They are more likely to be the ones that help schools name what needs to become sharper: what needs protecting because it is working, what needs tightening because it is inconsistent, what needs stopping because it has become familiar but is not having enough impact, and what needs moving from 'we do this' to 'we know this works because...'.

Those are not always comfortable questions, but they should not be asked with blame attached. Most provision develops because someone was trying to solve a problem. But schools change, cohorts change, pupils change, staff change, and provision needs to be allowed to change too. I would much rather see a short, honest, precise inclusion strategy than a long one that reads beautifully and does very little.

The strongest work across our Trust is not flashy. It is thoughtful and often quite quiet. It is leaders knowing their pupils well. It is schools being honest about what the data is telling them without reducing children to data. It is teachers holding responsibility for pupils even when additional support is in place. It is support staff being trained and deployed carefully. It is SENCos asking whether provision is actually changing outcomes. It is family-facing staff building trust in ways that are hard to measure but impossible to ignore. It is schools being willing to say, 'This helped at one point, but is it still the right thing now?'

The hope is that the Mainstream Inclusion Strategy does not become another compliance exercise. Schools can use it as a reason to gather the right people, pull the threads together, look honestly at what is already happening, and decide the next priorities with precision. Not because the DfE has asked for a document, or because Ofsted might read it, or because the website needs another PDF, but because, done properly, it could help schools make inclusion more coherent, more visible and more connected to the everyday life of the school.

Most schools are already doing an enormous amount. The point is not to invent more work for people who are already stretched. The point is to surface the work that is already making a difference, including work that may not previously have been labelled as inclusion, evaluate it properly, join it to school improvement, and make sure the strategy helps leaders make better decisions for the children in front of them.

If it does that, then it is worth doing. If it sits off to one side, looking earnest and saying all the right things while the real work happens somewhere else, then we should probably admit that we have created exactly the thing we all said we did not want to create. Schools have enough paperwork already.

A shift in language - The White Paper

A shift in language

It has taken me a while to digest the contents of the White Paper. I did not want to react to the headlines or rush to judgement while the sector conversation was still hot and noisy. I wanted to read it properly, sit with it for a bit, and then come back to it again with the reality of my day job in mind. I suspect I will keep returning to it over the coming weeks, particularly as we shape our response to the consultation.

I have written before, both here and elsewhere, about the gap that can open up between words and action, and about how inclusion can very quickly become a slogan if we are not careful. I have also said that moral purpose is the baseline, not the finish line, because it does not equip a teacher on a wet and miserable Thursday afternoon (and we have had plenty of those) with the confidence and tools to teach a class with wide-ranging needs. I tried to read this White Paper with the same lens I bring into schools every week. What is the intent? What are the practical implications? And what will actually change for pupils with SEND and the adults supporting them?

If I strip it back, I think I feel cautiously hopeful. Not because I am easily won over by a well-written narrative, but because in places the language does feel like it is trying to move us away from a deficit frame and towards something more collaborative and more human.

The view from the ground

I work in a trust, and most of my week is spent in and alongside schools with headteachers, SENCos, classroom teachers and support staff who are doing their best to hold inclusive practice together in real classrooms, with real budgets, real staffing pressures and real children whose needs do not wait for national reform to bed in. Our trust serves very different communities. We have schools in coastal contexts, small village schools, larger town schools, schools with higher levels of deprivation and schools with very different pupil profiles. The contexts vary quite a lot, but the challenges are remarkably similar.

What is consistent across them is the skill and commitment of staff who genuinely want to do the right thing for pupils with SEND, even when the system around them makes that harder than it should be. That was particularly clear earlier this week when we held a SENCo forum and spent some time looking at the White Paper together, thinking about how it might land for SENCos and for the role itself. It turned into one of those really rich professional conversations where people were able to reflect honestly about the system we are currently working in, but also about what could shift if the conditions were right. What struck me most was not cynicism, but a profession that feels ready for change. There was challenge, of course, but also a strong sense that many of the ideas in the paper resonate with what practitioners have been trying to build in schools for years.

That is the question I kept returning to as I read the document: does this help those professionals do their jobs better?

A shift in tone

The tone is noticeably different to 2014. The reforms that came in then were necessary, and I would not want to lose what they secured in terms of entitlement and statutory clarity. But the language of that period was often procedural and deficit heavy. It centred on gaps, needs, thresholds and failure to meet expected standards. This paper feels slightly different in how it positions children and the purpose of education. Even the title, Every Child Achieving and Thriving, signals something broader than attainment alone. Thriving is not a technical term. It is a human one. It suggests belonging, confidence, participation and growth.

One line that stood out to me was the repeated framing of high standards and inclusion as “two sides of the same coin.” I have argued before that separating inclusion from achievement can create some perverse incentives, particularly in a system that remains heavily outcome driven. When inclusion becomes a separate badge, or a separate judgement, schools can start to feel they must choose between being inclusive and protecting results. What is significant about that line is that it removes the false choice. It positions inclusion not as a competing priority but as integral to strong teaching and strong outcomes.

There is also language that nudges us away from a narrow deficit frame. The paper refers to children being “supported and stretched” and explicitly mentions those who are “progressing but capable of even more.” For pupils with SEND, that shift in emphasis matters. One of the most persistent low-level narratives in education is that additional need somehow equals limited ambition. On the ground, the reality is holding two truths at once. Some children need careful scaffolding and thoughtful adaptation in order to access the learning, and those same children still deserve stretch, curiosity, challenge and high expectations. The language suggests an intention to keep aspiration firmly in the frame.

One of the more significant structural changes sits in the proposed update to the Code of Practice. For over a decade we have organised SEND through the four “areas of need”. The consultation proposes replacing those with five “areas of development”. That might sound like a small wording change, but it is not. The document is quite clear that the intention is to move away from categorising children and from an over-reliance on diagnosis and instead anchor the framework in child development and classroom practice. The proposed areas are Executive Function, Motor and Physical, Sensory, Social and Emotional, and Speech, Language and Communication.

Personally, I think that is a great shift. Moving from “need” to “development” changes the lens. It sees children as dynamic and developing rather than fixed and deficient, and it anchors thinking more firmly in growth, barriers and responsive provision rather than labels. If this language survives consultation and is embedded meaningfully in the refreshed Code and National Inclusion Standards, it could reshape how teachers think about support across all levels. I hope it stays, because it feels like one of the most promising aspects of the reform.

Belonging as a priority

Belonging also appears more explicitly than I expected. The paper commits to improving pupils’ sense of belonging and engagement, and it expects schools to monitor this over time. That is quite a significant cultural marker, because belonging is often treated as a nice-to-have rather than something that sits within the accountability conversation. In trust work we see the relationship between belonging, attendance, behaviour and progress every day. If the system is serious about belonging, it also has to be serious about the conditions that create it, not just the measurement of it. It also brings in the different understanding of ‘Belonging’ from a Church school perspective.

The sections on inclusive mainstream education also contain language that feels intentional. The paper talks about schools being “equipped and funded to support children with SEND to achieve and thrive in inclusive mainstream settings, working together with high-quality specialist provision.” The phrase working together is doing quite a lot of work there. It suggests a model where specialist expertise sits alongside mainstream provision, and where inclusion is built through capacity rather than through drift towards segregation or hierarchy. That aligns with what many trusts are trying to build when things are working well. We strengthen expertise in classrooms, develop adaptive teaching, and use specialist knowledge to grow staff confidence so that inclusion becomes embedded in everyday practice rather than something that happens somewhere else. The paper talks about services wrapping around children and schools, and about collaboration being essential. In principle, that makes complete sense. In practice, this is where my caution sits. Collaboration cannot simply be mandated into existence. It requires aligned incentives, clarity of role, stability and, crucially, capacity. Many schools do not feel they have much spare capacity right now. If collaboration is the ambition, the system will need to be brave about the practical enablers, not just the moral argument.

Which is why I find myself cautiously optimistic rather than celebratory. The language does feel like a shift. It is more relational, more focused on belonging, and more explicit about inclusion and standards being inseparable. But I have also been in education long enough to know that warm words do not automatically translate into changed experiences for pupils with SEND, or for the staff supporting them.

I will keep returning to this paper and reading it through the lens of enactment. How will funding align? How will inspection interpret it? How will workforce development deliver it? And how will mainstream settings be genuinely equipped, rather than simply expected to cope? Because inclusion will only shift if the system changes in ways that make it possible for the people closest to the work to succeed.

Underneath it all

There is also a question sitting underneath all of this that I think the sector will continue to wrestle with: has the paper actually defined inclusion yet? Schools currently hold very different interpretations of what inclusion means in practice. For some, it is primarily about access and participation; for others it is about outcomes, belonging, curriculum access or specialist support. In reality, it is usually some combination of all of these, but without a clearer shared definition the risk is that implementation continues to vary widely from place to place.

The tone and language of the paper are encouraging, and the shift away from deficit framing feels meaningful. But tone alone does not always translate into consistent practice. It raises an important question about whether the reforms will eventually need greater specificity if the aim is genuine consistency across the system.

Ofsted has already started to develop some of this narrative through the work on inclusion within the inspection framework, particularly around belonging, participation and access to high-quality teaching. The real test will be how these different parts of the system align in practice. Will the policy direction, inspection expectations and professional development offer reinforce the same understanding of inclusion, or will schools once again be left interpreting the space between them?

Adaptive teaching guides: Practical tools for equitable classrooms

One of the most pressing priorities in schools right now is ensuring every pupil can access the full ambition of the National Curriculum, not just some of it, not just the 'easier bits', but all of it. this isn’t always happening. For pupils with SEND, access to a high-quality, well-sequenced curriculum isn’t an optional extra. It’s an entitlement. But we still have classrooms where teachers know exactly what they want to teach yet struggle with how to teach it so that every learner, from pupils who need greater scaffolding to those who are ready for advanced stretch and challenge, can engage and succeed. That “how” is where things often unravel. It’s not about knowing the content; it’s about designing lessons that meet the diverse needs of real children, in real time, with all the complexities that brings.

Over the past academic year across Our Community Multi-Academy Trust (OCMAT) we’ve been finding ways to respond to this challenge, not with another shiny initiative, but with something practical, teacher-led, and collaborative. This is where the subject-specific adaptive teaching guides came from. These guides are not prescriptive tools or rigid checklists. They are reflective aids designed to bring unconscious good practice to the surface, acting as prompts to spark thinking rather than formulas to be followed. They encourage teachers, support staff, and subject leaders to adapt thoughtfully, ensuring that high-quality teaching is maintained while being inclusive by design. At their heart, they’re a simple idea: a set of guides for each subject that bring clarity to adaptive teaching, making sure that pupils with SEND, and in truth all pupils, have the scaffolds and access points they need to succeed. But the story behind them isn’t about a piece of paper. It’s about culture. It’s about the belief that inclusion doesn’t live in the SENCo’s office or a bolt-on intervention, but in the everyday decisions that happen when teachers plan, model, and deliver their lessons.

For example, the Geography guide from Dymchurch sets out simple but powerful strategies like vocabulary walls, dual coding, pre-teaching of tricky terms, and retrieval tasks that make complex geographical concepts accessible to all pupils. They have helped staff to see inclusion not as a theoretical idea but as a set of practical, actionable strategies that make a difference. 

The starting point was the work we were already doing, peer-to-peer reviews across the Trust that brought SENCos, school leaders, and school teams together in open, reflective conversations through paired up schools across the trust, with solutions-focused inclusion questions created by schools, happening throughout the year. These reviews were an opportunity for school leaders and SENCos to look at both the micro and macro viewpoints of inclusion and work in a truly integrated way (this is talked about in the previous blog ‘two roles, one mission’ ). They were about listening, spotting the patterns, and asking hard questions about inclusion. What we found wasn’t surprising, but it was telling. Subject leaders were often highly secure in their curriculum knowledge, they could tell you the progression of knowledge in science or history inside out, but they weren’t always confident about how to adapt their teaching for pupils who might struggle or how to explain this to colleagues who were teaching the same curriculum. Not because they didn’t care or weren’t trying, but because inclusive teaching is deeply subject-specific, and the strategies that work in PE don’t necessarily translate to maths or art. We realised what we needed wasn’t a new framework or another layer of “expectations.” We needed a practical tool that teachers could actually use to make their lessons accessible from the start.

Subject leaders are the experts in their field. They know their subject inside out, its progression, its nuances, and the places where pupils are most likely to stumble. Whether it’s an abstract concept in science that feels miles away from pupils’ lived experience, a tricky historical timeline that demands holding multiple events in sequence, or the challenge of connecting a new mathematical skill to previously learned knowledge, subject leaders have the insight to anticipate these sticking points before pupils even encounter them. This deep understanding is what allows them to see where additional scaffolding or adaptive teaching will be needed, not to dilute the challenge, but to make the route to success clearer and more achievable.

When subject leaders work alongside SENCos, this expertise becomes even more powerful. A SENCo brings a wealth of knowledge about learning needs, processing difficulties, and the kinds of barriers that can turn a challenging concept into an insurmountable one for certain pupils. Together, they can design adaptations that are both targeted and subject-specific ,  refining explanations, sequencing tasks differently, or using visual and practical scaffolds to help pupils make the necessary connections. It’s not about bolting on “extra” support but about designing lessons that allow all pupils to access the core learning in a meaningful way. When this collaboration is embedded, it transforms the classroom: lessons become more thoughtfully structured, and pupils who might otherwise disengage are able to participate fully and succeed.

This work began as a direct response to the challenges we identified during our peer reviews. Time and again, we could see that teachers understood their subjects and their pupils, but they often lacked a practical, subject-specific reference point for adaptive teaching. I wanted to create something that didn’t add to workload but instead made planning for inclusion feel natural and achievable. I started with the Whole School SEND Teacher Handbook (Here ) specifically the subject guidance, and used it as the backbone for what would become our adaptive teaching guides. It’s an excellent resource, full of clear, evidence-informed strategies that focus on removing barriers without lowering expectations. From there, I built the first draft: a skeletal mock-up designed to be a flexible starting point, not a prescriptive checklist.

The first school to trial these adaptive teaching guides was Dymchurch, led by the brilliant SENCo and Head of School, Jenny Ross, along with her team. I shared the early drafts with them, and what followed was an honest, collaborative process of feedback and refinement. Together, they edited the adaptive teaching guides to reflect the school’s internal resources, preferred approaches, and scaffolding methods. The team at Dymchurch took the framework and made it their own ,  tailoring it so it felt authentic and aligned to the way they already taught, while adding practical tweaks that made it even more useful. This stage of co-construction was invaluable. It ensured that the adaptive teaching guides were not just a “trust initiative,” but something grounded in the reality of classrooms and shaped by the people who would be using them day to day.

Each one is built around a few key prompts: the classroom environment, the resources, the teaching approaches, and how we check understanding in ways that don’t exclude pupils. We’ve included practical strategies like modelling, sentence stems, dual coding, retrieval practice, not as a tick-list of “SEND things” to do, but as part of what high-quality teaching looks like when you’re thinking about all learners. We also include simple tools like a vocabulary bank or WAGOLL examples (What A Good One Looks Like), because we know how powerful clarity and modelling can be when pupils are struggling to grasp abstract concepts. But at the top of every adaptive teaching guide is the most important question of all: “What challenges or barriers might children face in this subject?” That question shifts the whole conversation. It stops teachers from adding adaptations as an afterthought and starts them designing with equity in mind from the beginning.

Crucially, these adaptive teaching guides are not intended to be a rigid checklist of “must-dos.” They are designed as an aide-memoir, a reflective tool to bring what is often unconscious good practice to the surface. They highlight the strategies that are already happening in classrooms and give them visibility, acting as a trigger for teachers to consider the “how” of their teaching as much as the “what.” A struggling Early Career Teacher can glance at the adaptive teaching guide while planning and immediately see practical ideas for scaffolding a lesson without lowering its ambition. A member of support staff can use it to think through how they might best assist a pupil with a specific barrier. A subject leader can use it as a conversation starter when explaining to colleagues how to approach their subject inclusively and consistently. 

In the Art and DT guide, inclusion is built through classroom layout, visual modelling of techniques, and space for creative exploration. It encourages gradually introducing equipment, scaffolding practical skills, and using peer or group discussion to share ideas. This kind of support ensures pupils with fine motor difficulties or anxiety around creativity are not excluded but instead encouraged to build confidence step by step.

The PE guide demonstrates how accessibility can be built into a highly physical subject. It focuses on equipment adaptation ,  such as using larger balls or introducing paralympic sports like boccia and ensuring all pupils can engage meaningfully. It includes ideas for formative assessment based on progress from individual starting points, and it highlights the importance of clear visual and verbal modelling.

While these adaptive teaching guides were designed with SEND in mind, they’ve proven to be just as beneficial for every learner. The research behind them, from Rosenshine’s principles to the Whole School SEND Teacher Handbook, is all about reducing cognitive load and improving memory and engagement. They help every child, not just those with additional or different needs. 

Some schools across the trust are already showing what happens when a more linear and consistent approach to teaching is embedded across multiple subjects. You can see threads running through lessons, the way modelling is structured, the way scaffolds are built in, the way assessment flows naturally into teaching. These schools are developing a shared pedagogy that is not only inclusive but also predictable and supportive for pupils. Over time, as these approaches become more refined and cemented within assessment and teaching practices, this consistency will grow. I believe that in time, we will see all schools in the trust move towards this model, where teaching is inclusive by design rather than by addition.

One of the reasons these adaptive teaching guides have worked (albeit early days!) is because they were co-created. They weren’t cooked up in an office and sent out as a directive. We built them with our subject network leads, with SENCos, and with teachers who were actually in the classroom, testing and refining them. We even discovered strengths we didn’t know we had along the way, like bilingual staff who helped us create multilingual vocabulary banks, or maths leads who dusted off forgotten manipulatives to make abstract ideas concrete again.

The impact has been noticeable. Ofsted inspectors have commented, more than once, on the clarity these adaptive teaching guides bring to lesson design, particularly in supporting inclusion. Teachers have said they’re easier to use than many of the over-engineered planning templates we’ve all seen come and go. And most importantly, pupils are feeling the difference. Lessons are more accessible, more structured, and more thoughtfully scaffolded, but without losing ambition or challenge.

We’re not pretending the adaptive teaching guides are a finished product. They’re living documents, constantly being refined as teachers use them and feedback. They don’t add to workload; they strip away the noise and give teachers a structure that works. 

It is also important to acknowledge that not every child will be able to fully access the National Curriculum, even with the most thoughtful adaptations and scaffolds in place. Some pupils require a truly bespoke curriculum that is tailored to their individual needs, often focusing on life skills, communication, or sensory regulation as much as academic progress. Recognising this is not a weakness in teaching or planning it is an essential part of inclusion. The adaptive teaching guides are not designed to ‘fix’ every barrier but to support the vast majority of pupils in accessing a challenging, meaningful curriculum while ensuring that those who need personalised provision are identified and supported appropriately.

When we talk about inclusion, we’re really talking about equity. Inclusion is the why. Equity is the how. And the adaptive teaching guides are one example of how we take the why, the belief that no pupil should be left behind, and make it real in the classroom. They remind us that the job isn’t just to cover the curriculum, but to make sure it’s truly accessible. Because if a pupil can’t access it, they can’t learn it. And if they can’t learn it, then the curriculum isn’t doing its job.

This work is still evolving, and it always will be. But every time I see a subject lead and SENCo planning together, identifying the tricky vocabulary in history or the conceptual leaps in maths, I’m reminded of why we started this. It’s about making inclusion the starting point, not the adjustment. When that happens, classrooms stop being places where some pupils just “get by” and start being places where every child can thrive.

Part two: Two roles, One mission (Practical strategies)

This is the second blog in a two-part series exploring how SENCos and school leaders can work in deeper, more strategic alignment to lead inclusion across their schools. In part one, we looked at the different models of partnership, what they look like, why they matter, and how they impact pupils with SEND. Now, in part two, we move from vision to action. Here, we share a set of practical, sustainable strategies that can help shift schools toward more inclusive, collaborative ways of working.

 Practical Strategies for SENCo and School Leader Collaboration
So how do we begin to shift towards that truly integrated model of working? The model where inclusion is not something tagged onto the SENCo’s to-do list, but instead embedded into every discussion, every decision, and every layer of school life?
The honest answer is that there is no single formula that works for everyone. There is no polished blueprint, no guaranteed sequence of steps that will deliver inclusion overnight. Every school is different, shaped by its culture, its structure, its size, and its wider context. But what can make a significant difference are the small, strategic shifts that help build stronger collaboration between SENCos and school leaders. These strategies are not intended to add more to an already overwhelming workload, nor do they claim to be quick fixes. Instead, they are offered as gentle invitations to reflect, try something new, and begin laying more intentional foundations for inclusion.
 
Start with a heat map

This may sound deceptively simple, but in practice, it can be transformational. Many schools already use heat maps effectively in phonics assessment and planning, where they help identify patterns of need, highlight gaps, and inform targeted teaching. The same principle can be applied to leadership collaboration. At the start of the year or term, find time to sit down together and create a heat map that charts the pressure points in both of your roles.

Think about key periods such as annual review deadlines, census submissions, internal assessment cycles, performance management meetings, report-writing windows, moderation schedules, and the inevitable flurry of activity just before an Ofsted visit.

By mapping these peak stress points out visually on a calendar, both the SENCo and the school leader can begin to develop a shared understanding of the demands each person is facing. This exercise encourages empathy, reduces frustration, and helps to explain those occasional missed emails or cancelled check-ins. That unanswered message might have landed just as the SENCo was knee-deep in 27 EHCP reviews. That missed conversation may have coincided with a day when the school leader was managing multiple staff absences and a complex safeguarding issue.

While a heat map does not reduce anyone’s workload, it does bring a sense of clarity, and that clarity becomes an act of kindness. It enables forward planning and helps create protected time for meaningful conversations and joint decision-making. It encourages both roles to think proactively and respectfully about when and how to connect.

 

Plan together with intention

Joint planning does not need to be elaborate or time-consuming, but it does need to be deliberate. Establish regular opportunities to sit down together and review what is working, what is not, and what needs attention. Use this time to explore the current provision in school. What is having impact? Where are the gaps? Which interventions are no longer meeting pupils’ needs? Are children with SEND making expected progress? What is the data telling you, and perhaps more importantly, what are your professional instincts telling you beyond the numbers?

Bring others into these conversations too. Phase leaders, curriculum leads, pastoral staff, and other key voices should be part of this collaborative thinking. These are not just meetings about SEND. They are meetings about inclusion, and inclusion should thread through every layer of school life.

When planning is conducted in this way, it moves SEND out of a corner labelled "support" and places it at the heart of whole-school improvement.

Give the SENCo a strategic voice

Inclusion gains real traction when the SENCo is positioned as part of the strategic leadership team. This means not only being consulted once decisions are made, but being included from the outset so they can actively shape the direction of those decisions.

Consider the areas where the SENCo’s expertise could influence whole-school planning. This could include staffing deployment, curriculum sequencing, timetable structure, or the focus of professional development. Imagine the difference it might make if they were involved in shaping behaviour policy before it is rolled out, or if their perspective was central to how phase transitions are planned and supported.

This kind of visibility benefits the whole school. It allows inclusion to be designed in from the beginning, rather than retrofitted after the fact. It enables schools to take a proactive rather than reactive stance, creating systems that work for all children from the outset.

 

Walk in each other’s shoes

There is nothing quite as powerful as stepping into each other’s world. School leaders benefit from taking time to observe a small-group intervention or sitting in on a multi-agency meeting. Likewise, SENCos gain valuable insight by attending curriculum planning sessions, participating in staffing discussions, or joining parent and carer briefings.

This is not about scrutiny or judgement. It is about developing perspective. By seeing the emotional labour, the decision-making, and the expertise required in each other’s work, both professionals become more generous in their assumptions. Trust deepens. Empathy grows. And collaboration becomes more authentic and grounded in mutual respect.

These moments of shared observation, though brief, create a lasting impact. They help break down the idea that there are separate and distinct roles with separate and distinct responsibilities. Instead, they build a shared mindset that we are all in this together.

Learn side by side

Professional development is not just about acquiring new strategies. It can also be a powerful tool for connection, alignment, and building a shared culture. When SENCos and school leaders engage in training together, they begin to develop a common language and a unified understanding of what effective, inclusive practice looks like in their school. This shared experience helps to uncover assumptions, explore new approaches, and establish a joint vision for inclusion.

This kind of learning can take many forms. It might involve participating in a trust-wide training day focused on adaptive teaching, attending a national SEND conference, or joining a collaborative session with local or trust schools. The specific format matters less than the quality of the learning experience and the depth of reflection that follows. High-quality professional development offers content that is relevant, thought-provoking, and closely aligned to the day-to-day challenges and opportunities within schools. 

Just as important as the quality of input is what happens next. The real impact comes from how the learning is interpreted, shared, and embedded over time. After a training session, it is helpful to ask questions such as: What resonated most strongly? What challenged our current thinking? What can we take back to school and apply? What might need to be adapted to suit our setting? Who else in the school community needs to be involved in this work? And what support might be needed to ensure the learning translates into sustained change?

Some of the most powerful professional learning moments come from discomfort. Those moments when thinking is stretched, when familiar ideas are questioned, and when new insights begin to take shape. That is where deep learning begins. When these moments are experienced side by side by the SENCo and the school leader, they become a foundation for honest discussion, thoughtful planning, and long-term collaboration.

Professional development should not be seen as a one-off event. It is a catalyst for change. When approached with purpose and followed through with action, it becomes the bridge between strategic leadership and everyday inclusive practice.

Ask the question that matters most: 

There is one deceptively simple question that can act as a compass for any team seeking to build a more inclusive culture...

‘What do we hope our pupils would say about how we work together?’

Would they describe a joined-up team? Would they say that adults communicate well, that systems are clear, and that support is consistent? Or would they describe a gap between what they need and what they receive? Would they notice when systems feel fragmented, or decisions seem disconnected?

Let that question guide the work. Because when pupils can see the strength of collaboration between adults, they begin to trust the structures around them. That trust forms the foundation for every other element of support.

It’s not more work. It’s the right work

None of these strategies are flashy. They are not expensive to implement, and once embedded, they are not time-consuming either. But what they all have in common is intentionality. They are rooted in the belief that inclusive practice does not emerge from policy documents alone. It takes shape in the conversations we prioritise, in the empathy we show, and in the consistency we model across the school.

No one will get everything perfect every time, and perfection is not the goal. Progress is.

If you can take one intentional step this term, one shared conversation, one moment of joint reflection, one decision made together, then you are already moving in the right direction.

Because in the end, this is not about adding to an already heavy workload. It is about setting a new direction. It is about building a school culture where inclusion is not the responsibility of one person, but the shared responsibility of a whole team.

These strategies will not solve every challenge. They are not magic solutions. But they can serve as anchors. And in a system that can often feel uncertain and ever-shifting, anchoring to what matters most, to shared purpose and meaningful collaboration, may be the most powerful move we can make.

There is no need to wait for the system to change. There is no need to wait for permission. The children in our classrooms are not waiting.

Let us lead inclusion, together.

(This blog was originally written as a keynote for Challenge Partners, a fantastic organisation doing incredible work to support collaboration and improvement across the education system. I had the privilege of speaking to leaders who were either exploring what it means to join Challenge Partners or preparing to embark on their peer-to-peer SEND review work. It was a space filled with curiosity, purpose, and a genuine commitment to doing better for all children, particularly those with SEND)