Decolonising English - Representation, identity and belonging

If you want to understand the world, you must seek out stories that aren’t your own

When I was a teenager, a Holocaust survivor visited my school to speak in assembly. Afterwards, I was invited to join a small discussion group where he talked to us more openly about his life and the lessons he wanted young people to take forward. Among the many things he shared, one message stayed with me more than anything else and has shaped my values as a person, my view of education, and now my work as a teacher. He spoke about how ignorance and hatred rarely appear out of nowhere. More often, they grow from naivety—from spending your whole life inside a “bubble” without ever questioning what lies outside it. His advice was simple but powerful: if you want to understand the world, if you want to understand other people, you must seek out experiences, voices, and stories that aren’t your own.

Growing up in a very white, rural community, I didn’t immediately grasp the weight of what he was saying. At the time, it felt like thoughtful advice, but nothing more. It wasn’t until I arrived at university that I began to realise just how narrow my own schooling had been. Only then did I notice how rarely I had been encouraged to engage with different perspectives, or to think critically about the silences in the curriculum I grew up with. That realisation marked the start of a new understanding of what education can - and should - do. It can broaden our horizons, challenge our assumptions, and make us more conscious of the world we live in and the people who share it with us.

Now that I’m a teacher myself, that lesson has taken on an even deeper meaning. I’ve seen how easily teaching can fall into familiar patterns, repeating the same stories and the same viewpoints without ever asking whose voices are missing. I’ve also seen how transformative it can be when students are given the chance to encounter experiences that differ from their own. I believe strongly that education should help young people “burst their bubbles” by introducing them to new ideas, new cultures, and new ways of seeing the world. That belief drew me to the course in the first place, and it is what now motivates me to continue my development through the fellowship.

Representation, Identity, Belonging

My journey into this work looks a little different from others in the programme. I recently moved from Co‑op Academy Failsworth to CHS South, which means some of my early projects were interrupted by the change of school. But this shift has also created an exciting opportunity: a chance to bring what I learned last year into a whole new setting, reaching a wider group of teachers and supporting a fresh phase of curriculum development.

At Failsworth, one of my key contributions was leading a CPD session. My aim was to give colleagues a sense of the kinds of conversations I’d been having through the programme, conversations that had pushed my own thinking in important ways. We began with Riz Ahmed’s speech about representation in arts and culture, which opened up a discussion about how curriculum choices shape students’ sense of identity and belonging. We then looked at Barbara Walker’s Vanishing Point, a work that highlights the erasure and marginalisation of Black subjects in European art. That piece prompted questions about whose histories we uplift and whose we overlook, and how those decisions affect the way students see themselves and the world.

Rethinking the ‘monster’

I also introduced the idea - one that had resonated with me during the university sessions - that monsters in literature often reflect social fears and anxieties. They can become symbols of “otherness” and tools for controlling or excluding certain groups. Drawing on further reading I had done, we explored how texts like Dracula, Animal Farm, The Merchant of Venice, and Jekyll and Hyde portray the “other,” and what these portrayals might teach students about power, identity, and morality.

Colonialism, Power, Resistance: Césaire’s Une Tempête and Shakespeare’s The Tempest

Since joining CHS South, I’ve begun exploring practical ways to embed these ideas into the curriculum. One promising avenue is our Year 7 study of The Tempest. I’ve been looking at how Aimé Césaire’s Une Tempête - his adaptation of Shakespeare’s play - can help us introduce discussions about colonialism and power in an age‑appropriate way. Césaire places the play firmly within a colonial context, reimagining Prospero as a European coloniser and Caliban as an enslaved, racialised figure who speaks openly about resistance, identity, and oppression. Reading the two texts together gives students a chance to see how stories shift depending on who is telling them. It also encourages them to question the idea of a single “correct” interpretation and to recognise literature as something changeable and open to challenge.

Black People in Georgian Britain: Johnson’s Sawbones

I have also been asked to design a new Year 7 scheme of work centred on Catherine Johnson’s Sawbones. The novel offers a vivid picture of 18th‑century Britain and introduces Ezra McAdam, a mixed‑race apprentice surgeon and former slave. His story highlights a part of British history that is often left out of the classroom: the presence and lives of Black people in Georgian Britain. Through Ezra, students confront issues of prejudice, class, and identity, all within a historical setting. The book weaves together themes of science, medicine, and social inequality, helping students understand how different aspects of society intersect with race. Importantly, Sawbones situates Britain’s involvement in colonialism not as something distant or abstract, but as something embedded in everyday life.

Together, Une Tempête and Sawbones give Year 7 students the chance to explore colonialism through literature. They offer opportunities for difficult but essential conversations, and they help build a curriculum that is questioning, inclusive, and reflective.

Looking ahead

I am genuinely excited about the possibility of continuing this work through the fellowship. The programme has already changed the way I think about curriculum design and the responsibilities of a teacher. I want to keep developing these ideas and bring these conversations into my new school so that they shape not just lessons, but the culture and experiences of the students I teach.