Poor

There is plenty of good quality research and advice about what works to raise attainment in schools serving disadvantaged communities-strong tracking, high-quality professional development, participation ratios and relentless focus on teaching can raise attainment.

All of that matters.

Less often discussed are the everyday leadership decisions that shape belonging, culture and trust with families.

Working in schools serving communities with high levels of disadvantage has taught me this:

What looks like a “small decision” in school can have a huge impact on a family.

Where do you hold meetings? Parents’ evening might seem routine—unless childcare is impossible, shift work gets in the way, or it is not always the parents who attend. I prefer the term Family Feedback Meetings.

Do you invite someone to the Headteacher’s office? For some people, that room can feel intimidating before the conversation even begins.

Do you ask them to come upstairs? I once inducted a new child and family, and the child had never encountered stairs before, having always lived in a ground-floor flat.

These details matter.

I recently read Poor by Katriona O'Sullivan and would recommend it to anyone working in education. It is a powerful reminder that systems often assume people have time, money, confidence and access to services that they simply may not have.

And perhaps most importantly: never assume.

Don’t assume a child has had breakfast.
Don’t assume they can easily play outside.
Don’t assume they have somewhere quiet and private to work or relax.

I once casually told a child:

“It’s sunny—go run around, ride your bike, enjoy an ice cream.”

He replied:

“I don’t have a bike. We don’t have a garden. The grass outside the flats says no ball games, and the police moved us on last time.”

That was a lesson for me.

Staff who work in schools serving disadvantaged communities often become highly attuned to those realities. As a leader, that awareness, empathy and practical understanding is something I actively recruit for.

I also prioritise retention through wellbeing, because when staff stay, relationships deepen, trust grows and culture becomes stronger.

We fiercely challenge the idea that “they’re never going to do that.” Every child is seen as capable of reaching meaningful goals in education, including qualifications and future choices.

Good leadership in these communities requires focus on the same things every school faces—recruitment, interventions, policy, curriculum, safeguarding, attendance—but with greater urgency.

Schools cannot solve structural inequality alone, but they can avoid adding to it.

In my profession, I’m fortunate to have enough financial security to access choices.
If I’m running late for the bus, I can order an Uber.
When the washing machine broke, I just ordered a new one.
Yesterday was unusually cold for a spring day, so the heating came on.

But speaking to our families daily has taught me that when money is tight, small setbacks can become major barriers because there is often no safety net.

I once overheard a child saying after the two-week winter break:

“I can’t wait to come back to school because it’s warm.”

Another replied:

“Yeah, and for the hot lunch!”

That has stayed with me. I entered education to help children learn, but moments like that remind me that for some children, school is not just a place of learning. It is warmth, routine, safety, food and calm.

That is why decisions about spending in schools matter.

🥶 It matters when I ask the caretaker to switch the summer heating schedule.
🍝 It matters that I’m militant about us all sitting down together for a warm, healthy meal at family dining.
🥝 It matters that there is fruit, vegetables and toast available for every child at morning break (huge thanks to organisations such as Greggs, Tesco and Asda that support this).
🦸‍♂️ It matters that we invest budget into staff who can flexibly support families, interventions, behaviour and nurture.
🕥 Timetables matter so individual needs can be met, because behaviour and culture are priorities.
🏕️ It matters that time and thought go into outdoor learning, trips, sports, music and art that enrich children’s experiences.
🔤 It matters that we prioritise Early Years and phonics at all costs.

When budgets are stretched, these things can sometimes look like luxuries to people who don’t know what it’s like to work in areas serving profound disadvantage.

In my opinion, they are not luxuries.

They are an essential part of creating the culture, belonging and stability that make learning possible.

Over time, these things — alongside academic rigour and high expectations — help children develop the confidence, knowledge and language needed to achieve qualifications and access future opportunities.

These things matter deeply in communities where children may need additional emotional security and strong learning foundations to thrive — even when other stresses may exist in their lives or communities.

And education, at its best, gives children something priceless:

Choices.