Something about late August always calls for reflection.
Across schools, classrooms are being prepared, timetables finalised, and leaders turning their attention to the year ahead. New starters are being welcomed, induction programmes planned, and those first assemblies taking shape. It is a season of waiting, but also of design. Before pupils and staff arrive, we have a brief window to think carefully about the experience we want people to have when they walk through our doors.
Most of that work is practical. We review systems, routines, policies and expectations. We discuss behaviour, attendance, safeguarding and the curriculum. Yet below all of those important considerations lies another question, one that is not discussed explicitly but which may ultimately determine the success of everything else we put in place:
How are we intentionally designing for belonging?
I have previously written about our work to develop a Belonging Framework across our Trust, driven by the conviction that belonging cannot simply remain an aspiration or a value statement. If we genuinely believe that belonging matters, it cannot sit on the periphery of organisational life. It must be made visible, central. It must be woven into our systems, decision-making and everyday practice. Most importantly, it must move from something we hope people experience to something we intentionally create. The start of a new school year provides a strong opportunity to do just that.
This matters because research shows that belonging uncertainty is common. Walton and Cohen (2007) define belonging uncertainty as the doubt people may feel about whether they are truly accepted and valued in a particular environment. For those experiencing such uncertainty, routine experiences take on greater significance. A difficult lesson, a piece of feedback, an awkward social interaction, or a perceived setback can be seen as evidence that they do not fit in, that they somehow are different, or maybe that they were never meant to be there in the first place.
September is full of uncertainty for us all.
Some children are arriving at school for the first time. Others are moving between key stages, joining new classes, or adapting to unfamiliar teachers and peers. New staff members are navigating different cultures and expectations. Even those returning to familiar settings usually feel uncertain as classes change, teams evolve, and relationships shift.
Visible questions might concern timetables, classrooms, or curriculum content. The invisible questions are often more human.
Will I be accepted here?
Will people notice me here?
Will I succeed here?
Do I belong here?
These questions are not articulated, but they do shape how we experience every aspect of organisational life.
This is why I have become increasingly convinced that leaders should view systems, routines and expectations not only through the lens of efficiency or effectiveness, but also through the lens of belonging. Every system we design communicates something about who belongs, how belonging is experienced and the assumptions we make about the people expected to use it.
Take our first assemblies, for example.
Traditionally, first assemblies focus on standards and expectations. There is good reason for this. Clarity matters. Children and young people deserve to understand the culture they are entering and the expectations that will help everyone flourish.
Yet I wonder whether first assemblies often carry a deeper responsibility.
Long before pupils remember the details of a behaviour policy, they form impressions of whether they are welcome. Before they internalise routines, they begin to interpret whether they are seen. Before they understand what success will look like, they start judging whether people ‘like them’ belong in the community they have entered.
Perhaps the first assembly of the year should not simply answer the question, What do we expect from you?
It should also answer, Who are we, together, and why do you matter here?
That distinction feels particularly important because belonging is not simply about inclusion. Increasingly, researchers and practitioners are bringing out the concept of mattering alongside belonging. Dr Lisa Cherry’s work has explored this powerfully, arguing that people need more than acceptance; they need significance. They need opportunities to experience that their voice is recognised, that their presence makes a difference, and that the communities around them hold them in mind.
This resonates with conversations I have had over the years with my friend Mohamed Abdallah. Mo regularly speaks about dignity, human relationship and the importance of making sure that people feel recognised. Not recognised primarily for what they achieve, produce or contribute, but recognised for who they are. Within an educational context, where outcomes and accountability rightly occupy our attention, we risk becoming exceptionally good at celebrating performance while paying less attention to communicating significance.
Yet significance matters.
A child can attend every day yet still feel invisible.
A colleague can contribute professionally whilst also wondering whether their presence makes any difference.
A parent can engage with a school community without ever feeling truly known to it.
Belonging answers the question, ‘Am I accepted here?’?
Mattering answers the question, ‘Would anyone notice if I wasn’t?’?
Through this lens, many of the routines we set up at the start of the school year take on new significance. Learning names quickly matters. Greeting people warmly matters. Creating structures that enable everyone to contribute matters. Explaining not only what we do but also why we do it matters. These actions may seem small and ordinary, yet together they communicate something powerful: you are seen, you are valued, and you belong here.
What strikes me most about Walton and Cohen’s work is the idea that reducing uncertainty frees people to engage. Energy that might otherwise be spent scanning for signs of rejection or exclusion can instead be directed towards learning, participation and growth. In other words, belonging is not simply an outcome we hope to achieve. It is a condition that enables other outcomes.
This is why I am returning to the same thought as we prepare for another academic year.
We spend considerable time refining curriculum plans, behaviour systems and improvement priorities. All of these matter enormously. But perhaps the most important design question is also one of the simplest:
Will the people entering our schools this September experience belonging by design, or will they be left to discover it by chance?
Because every routine sends a message.
All interaction communicates value.
All systems either reduce uncertainty or reinforce it.
Whilst belonging can never be manufactured by a policy or a framework alone, it can be intentionally cultivated through the decisions we make every day.
As schools prepare to open their doors once again, perhaps that is the challenge for all of us.
Not simply to ensure people understand our expectations.
But to ensure that from the moment they arrive, they understand something even more fundamental:
You belong here.
References
Baumeister, R. F., & Leary, M. R. (1995). The need to belong: Desire for interpersonal attachments as a fundamental human motivation. Psychological Bulletin, 117(3), 497–529.
Banks, P. (2026, May 4). Building a belonging framework: Making the invisible visible and the implicit accountable. The Belonging Collective.
Cherry, L. (2024). How do care experienced adults who were also excluded from school make sense of belonging? Doctoral thesis, University of Oxford.
Cherry, L. (2025). Weaving a Web of Belonging: Developing a Trauma-Informed Culture for All Children. Routledge.
Cherry, L. (2026). Practical Strategies for Promoting Mattering in Schools. Substack.
Walton, G. M., & Cohen, G. L. (2007). A question of belonging: Race, social fit, and achievement. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 92(1), 82–96. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.92.1.82 Social-belonging intervention improves academic and health outcomes of minority students. Science
