The readings I’ve been working through really drive home how deeply racism is embedded in UK education systems, and how that affects everyone working in higher education—even those of us in technical roles who might think we’re less immediately related to these bigger institutional issues.
When “Neutral” Policies Aren’t Actually Neutral
Bradbury’s work with Critical Race Theory really opened my eyes to how policies that seem fair on paper can actually make things worse for students from minoritized backgrounds. Take the Baseline Assessment example—testing young bilingual students only in English from day one basically sets them up to fail, then uses those results to justify lower expectations. It’s not that anyone set out to be racist, but the impact is the same. This made me think about how often workshop practices are considered “neutral” when they might actually be creating barriers I don’t even see (it’s worth considering what they are).
The Reality of What Students Actually Face
Garrett’s research on racialized PhD students hit particularly close to home. These aren’t just statistics—these are real people dealing with tokenism, feeling like they don’t belong, hitting invisible walls in their academic careers. When I read about the isolation and exclusion these students experience, I started thinking about the students I work with daily in the studio. How many of them are navigating similar challenges that I’m unaware of? How can I navigate and offer the best kind of help?
What This Means for My Work
Honestly, when I first started reading these pieces, I thought they were more relevant for UAL policy makers. But the more I reflected, the more I realized my role as a technician puts me in a unique position. I’m often the person students turn to when they’re struggling with equipment, when they need help troubleshooting a project, or when they’re feeling overwhelmed by technical requirements.
Now I’m asking myself uncomfortable questions: Am I actually making workshop spaces accessible to everyone? When I give safety demonstrations, am I considering students whose first language isn’t English? Do I unconsciously give more attention or encouragement to certain students? When I choose examples to demonstrate techniques, whose work am I highlighting and whose am I overlooking?
Moving Forward
Reading these pieces has shifted something for me. I can’t just assume that being “nice to everyone” is enough—that’s the kind of colorblind thinking that actually maintains the status quo. I need to actively work against the systems that disadvantage minoritized students.
This might mean pushing for safety materials in multiple languages, though this raises some complex questions that came up in a recent conversation with a colleague. We were discussing whether we should communicate with students in their mother tongue when we happen to share that language, particularly when a student is clearly struggling with English. While all students have met UAL’s language requirements for enrollment, the reality in the workshop can be quite different—technical terminology, safety instructions under pressure, or complex problem-solving conversations can challenge even proficient English speakers.
But we found ourselves grappling with where to draw the line. If individual staff members provide language support based on what they personally can offer, does that create an uneven system where some students get advantages others don’t? How much additional support should we provide beyond institutional requirements, and when does well-intentioned help risk creating dependency rather than building confidence? These aren’t easy questions to answer, but they’re important ones to wrestle with as we think about what genuine support looks like.
Beyond language considerations, this definitely means paying attention to whose voices I’m amplifying in workshop discussions and being more intentional about creating space for different perspectives and approaches to making work.
The research makes it clear that real change requires more than good intentions—it requires honestly examining how current practices might be failing students, even when we don’t mean them to. For me, that means bringing the same critical attention to my workshop practices that I’d bring to any other aspect of my professional development.
Reference
Bradbury, A., 2020. A critical race theory framework for education policy analysis: The case of bilingual learners and assessment policy in England. Race Ethnicity and Education, 23(2), pp.241-260.
Channel 4. (2020) The School That Tried to End Racism. [Online]. Youtube. 30 June. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1I3wJ7pJUjg (Accessed 9 June 2025).
Garrett, R. (2024). Racism shapes careers: career trajectories and imagined futures of racialised minority PhDs in UK higher education. Globalisation, Societies and Education, pp.1–15.
Orr, J. (2022) Revealed: The charity turning UK universities woke. The Telegraph [Online]. Youtube. 5 August. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FRM6vOPTjuU (Accessed 12 June 2025).
Sadiq, A. (2023) Diversity, Equity & Inclusion. Learning how to get it right. TEDx [Online}. Youtube. 2 March. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HR4wz1b54hw (Accessed 12 June 2025).
UAL (2025). English language requirements. [online] UAL. Available at: https://www.arts.ac.uk/study-at-ual/language-centre/english-language-requirements (Accessed 12 Jun. 2025).
2 replies on “Reflection on Anti-Racism in HE”
Thank you for sharing such an honest and considered reflection. It is encouraging to see how you are thoughtfully engaging with the challenges and complexities involved in making your teaching more equitable. Your willingness to question assumptions and reflect critically on your practice is really powerful. The way you are thinking through language, support and voice in the workshop shows a genuine commitment to inclusion.
Perhaps another small addition could be to explore ways students might be invited to shape or co-create aspects of the workshop environment. I am not entirely familiar with your role in the classroom, but if it is possible, this could be a gentle step towards balancing support with empowerment, while also recognising the diverse knowledge the students bring.
I really appreciated Charline’s idea of involving students in shaping the workshop environment. We might not have all the answers, and maybe we shouldn’t pretend we do. Creating space to listen could be a meaningful step toward shared responsibility.
As a small positive note from my own experience, when I graded students for the first time last term, I learned that for inclusion reasons, we are not allowed to assess spelling or grammar—as long as the writing is roughly understandable, we are asked not to comment on its form.
That stayed with me, and it makes me think of your reflections on bilingual students. It is a reminder that shifting the criteria, even slightly, can have a real impact on how students are perceived and supported.