This week, EduResearch Matters will be publishing a selection of contributions from academics around the country, in response to AARE’s priority messages for the forthcoming federal election. These posts will be published over the course of this week, leading to the election on May 3.
These priorities are supported by findings from extensive educational research. We look forward to your feedback.
Boosting the education workforce a) Ensure a well-supported workforce that delivers high quality teaching and student outcomes b) Respect for teacher professionalism c) Address teacher attraction and retention
Research informed policy a) Use rigorous and robust research to inform policy b) Draw on the latest research findings to deliver high functioning, inclusive education systems
Connected solutions a) Build stronger alignment across sectors and policy portfolios to ensure strong education outcomes across the life course, from early childhood education to tertiary education. b) Better align policies and programs across the education eco-system to avoid duplication, maximise opportunities and optimise resources
Equity and educational outcomes a) Invest in equity initiatives that have been shown to produce improvements b) Draw from available research to identify effective ways to tackle inequalities across all stages and sectors of education c) Act with urgency to interrupt long standing patterns of disadvantage and inequity
Widening participation and nurturing aspirations a) Build strong futures and aspirations among all students b) Foster more joined up and accessible post school pathways
Australia’s education system is facing a significant crisis, with school principals experiencing unprecedented levels of stress and adversity.
A recent report by the Australian Catholic University by Paul Kidson and colleagues is alarming. It shows physical violence against school leaders has surged by over 80 per cent since 2011. Threats of violence are at an all-time high. The mental health of our principals is deteriorating, with severe anxiety and depression rates significantly higher than those in the general population. Over half of the surveyed principals are contemplating leaving their positions, a potential exodus that will destabilise our schools.
What can we do?
Kidson and colleagues’ report highlights reflective or professional supervision as an underutilised strategy to address the principal crisis.
Distinct from performance evaluations or compliance-focussed managerial oversight, reflective supervision provides a structured, confidential space for school leaders to reflect on their practice, discuss challenges, and support the development of critical reflection.
It takes the form of regular, planned, and intentional meetings with a trained supervisor who is external to a leader’s workplace. This is not managerial supervision whereby conversation is motivated by role expectations and performance. Rather, supervision expands this lens to reconnect leaders with their professional purpose and values. Distinct from coaching, supervision is not primarily about improving skills and strategies, but cultivating grit and grace for ethical engagement with complex challenges. In other professions such as social work, psychology and allied health, reflective supervision is an effective means of developing clarity, confidence, and agency, particularly in roles that require a high degree of autonomy and leadership. Supervision therefore seeks to interrupt practice, rather than merely report on or judge it.
So what might a typical supervision session look like?
Each can look very different, according to the focus topic or inquiry that the leader (supervisee) may bring, and the approach that the supervisor may take to support the leader to explore it. This can be through creative use of images or metaphors, for example, and through noticing and questioning to help the leader widen their own lens of understanding and explore the ‘thinking behind their thinking’. By building a partnership of trust, safety and confidentiality, the supervisor facilitates a collaborative enquiry to explore the impacts of the leaders’ thinking, ethics and professional practice on those around them – including on colleagues, students, the broader school community and even the profession itself. Supervision is both supportive and challenging, affirming and question-making. In all ways, the supervisee is upheld as the expert of their own practice and an agent of their own decision making.
While each session may be different, there are typical features of a session that help scaffold and guide inquiry. Contracting begins a session so both parties are aware of the limits of confidentiality and the parameters for engagement. Focusing is a process to locate the nub of inquiry that then enables exploration and expansion of it. Sometimes this is referred to as ‘making the familiar strange’, disentangling a knot, or exploring the tributaries of a bigger river or flow of concerns. Sessions culminate in consolidating insights, and bridging back to how they will influence or impact everyday practice. Supervision can also occur in small groups, following a similar process of enquiry.
Not a silver bullet
Supervision is not a silver bullet, but 2024 evaluation undertaken by Paul Kidson for the University of Sydney found that with school principals, reflective supervision appeared to be more effective than mentoring or coaching and supported senior educational leaders in ways their current systems could or would not.
Drawing on the voices of principals, the evaluation demonstrated that the benefits of supervision are multifaceted. It offers a supportive environment where school leaders can process the many demands of their role, reducing feelings of isolation and stress. The participants saw that supervision could ultimately build stronger schools by mitigating burnout and increasing job satisfaction. The respondents believed that, by addressing issues proactively in supervision, it would contribute to higher retention rates among school leaders, as it has done in other sectors. A number of the participants in the reflective supervision program at The University of Sydney indicated that before the course they were contemplating life beyond school leadership, including strong intentions to leave education altogether as a result of workload, mental health issues and burnt out. Yet, for these participants, reflective supervision provided the encouragement and processes to reconsider their professional direction and continue as school leaders.
A cultural shift
Implementing reflective supervision requires a cultural shift within the education system. While school social workers, chaplains and psychologists access supervision as a matter of course nothing similar exists for principals. Yet, they experience similarly complex emotional and psychological demands.
Valuing principals’ wellbeing, professional growth and fidelity to their profession is integral to every school’s success. Providing resources for trained supervisors and integrating regular supervision sessions into the leaders’ professional learning is already proving its worth as a sustainable support that combats leadership loneliness and promotes mental, psychological, social and even spiritual wellness.
Addressing the current crisis in school leadership as the ACU report suggests will take many forms. It’s not surprising that reflective supervision featured prominently at the roundtable between the federal education minister and principals among the many challenges of modern school leadership. By investing in the well-being and professional respect and maturity of our leaders through this approach, we not only support them as individuals but strengthen the entire educational ecosystem, ensuring better outcomes for students, our schools, and ultimately our communities.
Mary Ann Hunter is associate professor in education at the University of Tasmania. Geoff Broughton is associate professor in Christian theology at Charles Sturt University.. Michael Anderson is professor and co-director of the CREATE Centre at The University of Sydney.
Anzac Day and Remembrance Day hold a prominent place in Australian cultural and education calendars, and educators and parents are often encouraged to engage children in commemorative events. This article explores some of the challenges involved in engaging children with commemoration days. It offers six tips to support children’s understanding of these events and participate in them in meaningful and respectful ways. We also explore how to challenge cultural myths and avoid glorifying war.
1. What is a commemoration, and why do we have these events?
Supporting children to understand that commemoration is very different to celebration is essential. Children can understand that we might celebrate a birthday but commemorate someone’s life at a funeral. In the same way, we might celebrate Christmas, Diwali or Hanukkah, but we commemorate Anzac Day and Remembrance Day because they are about loss, rather than celebrating a happy event.
Many countries mark special days to commemorate those who served their countries in various capacities during past and current conflicts. Remembrance Day, which marks the end of World War I, is one example. Commemorative services are held in many of the countries that were involved in the conflict, where the day may also be known as Armistice Day or Veterans Day.
It should be noted that these events change over time. They might have started for one particular conflict but were broadened to include others. For example, Anzac Day once commemorated only World War 1, for the loss of those in the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC). Now we also recognise other international conflicts, peace keeping missions and service provided within Australia on that day. Similarly, we now include other service organisations in our Anzac Day events, such as first responders and emergency services.
2. Why, what and how we remember
Why?
These commemorative days provide an opportunity for children to develop their knowledge and understanding of the past and current sacrifices of those who have lost their lives or were injured when serving their countries. Injuries can be physical, mental and/or moral. These events also remind us of the contributions and hardships that they endured at the time, but for those still living, they still endure due to memories and injuries.
It is important to acknowledge the families and friends who lost loved ones in these conflicts, as well as their vital role in caring for those whose lives were deeply affected by their service. War and conflict change people, and those around them also carry that impact.
What?
Crucially, older children are encouraged to develop knowledge and critical thinking about the choices our society makes regarding which conflicts to remember. For example, WWI and WWII are frequently highlighted at these events, while conflicts such as Korea, Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq, plus peace-keeping missions, often receive far less recognition. Similarly, Australia’s own Frontier Wars—the conflicts between Indigenous Australians and European settlers for over 100 years during colonisation—remain largely unacknowledged in many commemorative events.
Importantly, women are often less visible and less likely to be mentioned at these events. Many women have served our country and communities in ways that were unseen. That included working in ammunition factories, working on farms to ensure Australians could still eat when male farmers went to war, raising children, fundraising, supporting the morale and welfare of deployed personnel, and keeping businesses afloat when male members of their household were away. Also, women did a lot of logistical, administrative and spy work in past conflicts which needs to be remembered.
How?
It is important for children to recognise that commemorating is a personal experience. While some people choose to attend events and marches, others may prefer to remember and reflect quietly at home, outside in nature, or at family events. There is no single right way to commemorate.
Some people who have served or supported a veteran may choose not to take part in commemorations because it is too painful or something they are trying hard to forget. This is not unpatriotic nor un-Australian – rather, it’s a deeply personal response.
3. What happens at these events and how to behave respectfully
Commemorative events are full of colour, symbolism and rituals. When children understand what they will see at these events and why they are there, they are more likely to understand, appreciate and connect with the experience
Scaffold discussions and explorations with children that let them know what they might see at these events. There could be veterans, people in uniforms, first responders, emergency services, cadets, medals, rosemary, flags, service horses and dogs, wreaths, crowds and cenotaphs. They might also hear pipers, bugles, bands, speeches, prayers and hymns.
Significantly, during certain parts of the ceremony, everyone, including children, are expected to be quiet, reflective and respectful. Provide opportunities for children to practice the skills of ‘being quiet’ before the commemoration day and discuss options of what their brains can think about during this time, such as what they saw and heard. During a ceremony, there are specific protocols that will be observed, such as laying a wreath. This can be explored through free, online books for preschoolers, primary school-aged children, digital interactives, and accompanying educational materials. ABC’s Playschool have an Anzac Day special episode for younger children. Older children might enjoy learning the Ode in Auslan.
4. How to avoid glorifying war
Commemorative events have gained greater prominence in recent decades, with a deliberate effort to broaden what is commemorated to increase crowds. This is not necessarily wrong, as community remembrance can foster a deeper appreciation and respect for those who serve the country, their communities and their family members. That said, we have a responsibility to ensure that children do not become part of the “Anzackery” and the commercialisation of such events. We also do not want children to think that service, sacrifice and mateship are only qualities that belong to those in the military. Remind children that many people who serve our community in unseen ways may not be a part of these events nor wear a uniform.
5. Busting common myths
There are many myths surrounding these events that you can explore with children. In this figure, the myth is in bold font and the facts are in plain font below.
6. Educators, take care of children from service families
With one in 20 households having a current or previously serving military member, it is important educators find out which children are from Defence, veteran, and first responder families. This can be done by having a question on your enrolment form for an educational service and by actively providing opportunities to learn more about whether families at your service commemorate these days publicly or privately through discussions and interactions. Crucially, do not assume all military-connected families will want to join commemorative events.
Keep in mind that this may be a time of great sadness for many families, and reminders of these days can be challenging. Tread carefully and work to support the child and family during these times. Many veterans feel the significant money and time spent on such events could be used to improve veteran health services. A more appropriate way to commemorate may be to raise money to support a veteran charity, such as Legacy.
Finally
As commemorations like Anzac Day are embedded in the Australian Curriculum at various stages of education, it’s essential that children are given opportunities to develop age-appropriate knowledge, skills, and empathy around these events. This includes understanding the historical context, cultural significance, and personal impact of war and service, as well as the broader themes of peace, resilience, and community.
Marg Rogers is a senior lecturer in early childhood, University of New England, Emily Small is an early childhood teacher and consultant, Amy Johnson is a lecturer in strategic communication, Central Queensland University.
Victoria’s new Phonics Plus lesson plans are being rolled out to support early literacy instruction. But do they actually enhance early reading instruction? As a lecturer dedicated to preparing future teachers, I have serious concerns about the quality of instruction they promote.
I emphasise the importance of research-based practice—my students create literacy lesson plans and justify their instructional choices with evidence. But where is the research backing these lesson plans?
The Victorian government promotes Phonics Plus as a way to enhance early reading instruction, focusing on phonics, phonemic awareness, fluency, handwriting, and morphology. To support its implementation, the government has provided lesson plans for teachers. Although not mandatory, these plans set the standard for classroom instruction and warrant closer scrutiny.
Are These Lessons Too Long and Too Rushed?
How long might you expect young children to sit and engage as a whole group? Lesson length and sequencing are important considerations. Each lesson requires Foundation students to sit through a 25-minute Phonics and Word Knowledge session—a demanding duration for young learners, especially when tasks require sustained attention and cognitive effort.
A closer look at the sequencing raises more concerns. For example, in Phonics Plus Set 3: Lesson 9, activities jump from syllables to phonemes. Clapping syllables is a whole-word awareness task, immediately followed by phoneme-level analysis requiring segmentation into individual sounds. This shift from recognising larger spoken chunks to identifying separate sounds demands a significant cognitive leap that would even confuse adults.
The Phonics Plus lesson demonstration video on the ARC website reinforces these concerns. The scripted, rapid-fire teaching style, delivered from the front of the room, shows little to no scaffolding for students navigating these concepts.
Cognitive Load Theory emphasises the need for clear, step-by-step scaffolding over rapid shifts. Additionally, the National Reading Panel found that phonemic awareness instruction is most effective when focused and not overloaded with multiple overlapping tasks.
Where’s the Differentiation?
These lessons follow a ‘spray and pray’ approach, treating all students the same regardless of ability. For example, the high-frequency word ‘at’ appears in Lesson 1 as new content for all students. What happens if some children can already recognise and read this word?
Vygotsky’s Zone of Proximal Development highlights the importance of tailoring instruction to students’ current abilities—too easy, and they become bored; too hard, and they become frustrated. Bruner also emphasised scaffolding as essential for ensuring students build on existing knowledge rather than receiving one-size-fits-all instruction. Snow, Griffin and Burns stress the need for differentiated literacy instruction, particularly in early years classrooms. The evidence is clear: without differentiation, capable students risk disengagement, while struggling students are left behind.
Fluency Without Meaning?
Another area of concern is the use of texts to build ‘fluency.’ In Phonics Plus Set 1, Lesson 3, the Fluency Text is simply a grid of single letters: A, T, and S. The lesson plan directs teachers to use choral reading and partner reading of this text for 15 minutes.
In Lesson 9, students engage in choral reading using:
Tom can tag Sam and Pat. Tom can tag Sam at the dam. The cod is in the dam.
These texts align with phonics instruction but lack narrative value. How can students meaningfully engage with them?
Fluency is not just speed and accuracy but also expression, pacing, and comprehension. The lack of meaningful context in these choral reading tasks suggests students are practising letter and word recognition in isolation rather than developing expressive, purposeful reading.
Choral reading might seem effective, but research suggests otherwise. Shanahan (2024) argues that choral reading does not inherently improve fluency because it focuses on group reading without individualised pacing or comprehension engagement. Kuhn & Stahl (2003) found that fluency is best developed through repeated reading with feedback and discussion about meaning, rather than rote repetition of sentences.
Have you ever sung along to a song only to later realise what the lyrics actually mean? Just as choral singing doesn’t guarantee comprehension, choral reading doesn’t ensure students make meaning from text.
What About Meaning-Making?
Perhaps the most pressing issue in Phonics Plus is the lack of emphasis on meaning-making. Young readers thrive on content-rich texts that foster discussion and comprehension. While decodable texts reinforce phonics, they must be complemented by experiences that promote storytelling, prediction, and interpretation.
Duke and Pearson found that effective reading instruction integrates both code-based and meaning-based approaches. Castles, Rastle & Nation (2018) also advocate for balanced reading instruction embedding phonics within engaging and meaningful reading experiences. The Simple View of Reading reinforces that reading involves both decoding and comprehension—without explicit attention to meaning-making, fluency practice lacks purpose.
Prioritising rapid decoding over comprehension mirrors the shallow processing seen in digital reading, undermining critical literacy. Is this the outcome we want for our students?
Concerning gaps
While Phonics Plus aims to support early literacy, its lesson plans reveal concerning gaps in differentiation and comprehension development. Victoria’s reading reforms must balance phonics with meaningful reading experiences to develop engaged, proficient readers. Unless these gaps are addressed, the lesson plans risk doing more harm than good.
Naomi Nelson is a lecturer and literacy coordinator at Federation University Australia’s Mount Helen Campus. She educates pre-service teachers and works with colleagues to deliver contemporary and engaging literacy courses. Naomi’s PhD research investigates reading comprehension, the impact of reading mode (paper vs. screen), and the strategies students use to understand text.
The header image is a still taken from Phonics Plus In the Classroom, a video from the Department of Education, Victoria
When asked last week what he would do about the “the woke agenda” in education, federal opposition leader Peter Dutton raised the prospect of tying government funding to teaching of the curriculum. He said: “Kids… should not be guided into some sort of an agenda that’s come out of universities”.
No details were offered as to what exactly this woke agenda is. Nor could anyone point to specific examples of what is currently being taught in Australian schools or universities that shouldn’t.
Dutton is copying Donald Trump. “DEI” has been branded as “woke” by Trump’s MAGA movement.
As citizens of a sovereign country, Australians might not pay all that much attention to what the president of another country says and does. But those politics are rearing their ugly heads here. It is time to pay attention.
Importation of Trumpian ideals, such as his war on ‘woke DEI policies’, threatens our way of life, one that has long been underpinned by the idea of a ‘fair go’ for all.
This is the essence of the trick being played. DEI is an acronym for diversity, equity, and inclusion. Turning these words into an acronym and dismissing them as ‘woke’ is a way of disguising what these groups are really against. They are against diversity, equity, and inclusion.
Let me say that again. They are against diversity, equity, and inclusion.
So, what are diversity, equity, and inclusion? Is the derisive branding deserved? Are they “an agenda that’s come out of universities”?
Um, no. But these concepts do inform our teaching and it’s critical that they do. We will start with diversity and why it’s important to be aware of it.
Diversity
Recognising that people are not all the same and that we experience the world differently is not just common sense. It’s a necessity for good public policy decision-making. Let’s take what happened in Melbourne during COVID as an example.
Early in the COVID-19 pandemic, nine Melbourne public housing towers were placed in hard lockdown with no warning. Bewildered residents were met by police who began locking entrances at the foot of the towers as the Victorian premier announced the lockdown via a televised press conference broadcast. In English.
Many of the more than 3000 tower residents fled wars in their home countries. They were frightened because they could not understand what was being said. They did not, therefore, know what was going on. Imagine how they felt.
The whole situation could have been averted if those in charge of the emergency response had thought ahead about the need to communicate the need for the lockdown in a range of languages.
Looks like there were no bilingual people on that team, hey?
This is just one public policy fail due to lack of recognition that people are different and need different things. There are more. What about the Queensland government’s purchase of 75 new trains that did not meet disability access standards?
The lack of accessibility inconveniences people with a disability. It prevents them from getting to work or moving about freely as others do. But it also means the government must now spend even more to retrofit the trains.
Being aware of diversity, realising not everyone experiences the world the same way you do, and factoring it into decision-making is smart. It’s not ‘woke’. So is paying attention to equity.
Equity
The concept of equity is over 2000 years old, yet it is commonly misunderstood. It’s misunderstood – even by politicians, who really should know better, given our modern system of taxation is informed by the principle of distributive justice.
In a nutshell, equity is about fairness. The aim of equity policies is to reduce impacts of inequalities arising from circumstances individuals have no hand in choosing. This is what is meant by Aristotle’smaxim “Treat equals equally and unequals unequally”.
Right-wing commentators in the US and Australia have dismissed equity as ‘Cultural Marxism’ but they are wrong. It would be more accurate to describe them as Rawlsian, after Nobel Prize winning political philosopher John Rawls (1921-2002). His Theory of Justice articulates a range of principles aimed at resolving the tension between liberty (or freedom) and equality.
Veil of ignorance
One of Rawls’s thought experiments asked us to imagine that we do not know our place in society, nor our abilities or talents. We are behind a ‘veil of ignorance‘. From this position, we are asked to design the rules and structures of society.
When faced with making a decision without knowing our own position in society, Rawls reckoned we would each want to ensure that the least advantaged members of society are cared for because we might be among them.
You can test this by getting two kids to divide a Mars Bar. The rule is that one divides it, and the other chooses from the results. Nine times out of 10 the divider will try to get the two halves as equal as possible because they don’t want to end up with the smaller bit. Smart, not woke.
In today’s world, Rawls might be described as a “latte-sipping leftie“, but he wasn’t and nor is the concept of equity. Extreme inequality is not a good thing. It dampens productivity, leads to revolutions, and is best avoided through mechanisms that enable a more even playing field. Mechanisms like inclusive education.
Inclusion
Within two months of Trump taking office, a teacher in Idaho was instructed by her school administration to remove a poster on her classroom wall because it was “an opinion” with which not everyone agrees.
The poster, which this brave teacher has since put back on her classroom wall, features images of children’s hands of varying skin tones with the statement, ‘Everyone is welcome here’.
Welcoming, respecting, and valuing diversity is a key principle of inclusion, an approach to education that seeks to remove barriers to access and participation with the aim of producing fairer (more equitable) outcomes for all.
While some right-wing commentators dismiss this as social engineering, greater equity in educational outcomes is good for everyone. Even those motivated purely by self-interest should be a fan of inclusion because more kids doing better at school means fewer unemployed adults on Jobseeker.
Removing barriers to access and participation is not “dumbing down” or “lowering standards”. It means getting rid of the things that get in the way so that everyone can achieve to their fullest potential.
That doesn’t mean that everyone gets an A or that everyone passes. It means that impediments that may prevent an individual from passing are no longer a factor in their achievement.
We’ve recently demonstrated that this approach benefits all students: those with a disability and those without. Why would anyone be against that?
As future architects, journalists, managers, doctors, teachers, nurses, and more (including politicians and political staffers), university graduates will one day make decisions that have the potential to impact other people.
Do we really want government procurement officers to continue purchasing trains that don’t meet accessibility standards?
And do we want government staffers to continue organising press conferences that exclude the very people at the centre of the crisis?
Do we want university graduates to find themselves in trouble with their employer’s Human Resources department because they have crossed the line in their interactions with others?
Ignorance of diversity, equity, and inclusion leave our institutions in danger of perpetuating unconscious bias and discriminating on the basis of race, gender, disability and other attributes that are protected by law.
Universities didn’t create those laws. Politicians did in response to public demand. And because history has demonstrated what happens in the absence of such laws.
Valuing diversity, aiming for equity, and being inclusive isn’t woke. It’s how mature liberal democracies survive, avoiding revolution through a social contract that prevents the depth of inequity that has upended so many nations over time.
We are now witnessing the wanton destruction of that social contract in the United States. Only someone who didn’t pay attention in their high school history class would invite that to Australia.
Linda J. Graham is director of the Centre for Inclusive Education and a professor in the School of Education at Queensland University of Technology (QUT). She is the editor of the best-selling book, Inclusive Education for the 21st Century: Theory, Policy and Practice, and is lead chief investigator of the award-winning Accessible Assessment ARC Linkage Project.
The header image of Peter Dutton, taken in 2021, is from Wikimedia Commons and used under this licence.
Every school day, across the country, education professionals labour emotionally—in the classroom, in the staffroom, online. Yet the language available for talking about these experiences in public conversation has a history of being fragmented, inadequate and polarized as either overwhelmingly negative or unrealistically positive.
Our new edited book from Palgrave Macmillan, Teachers’ Emotional Experiences, articulates emotional realities of the teaching profession. It introduces useful concepts for responding to them as teachers, teacher educators, school leaders and policy makers. Teachers want to have their emotional labour understood by the broader community. This is something that we have tried to honour in this book. Teachers want to be heard and seen by the public and recognised as professionals who labour under difficult conditions.
Only very recently have we begun to publicly acknowledge teachers are struggling. They struggle under the weight of unrealistic expectations and mounting responsibilities of modern teaching. Teachers in Australia fulfil many vital roles alongside their obvious teaching roles. They are de facto security guards, counsellors, data administrators, co-parents, citizen makers and child minders for the economy. Based largely on interviews with 42 Australian teachers (from the NARRES research project) the book presents engaging stories of teachers who shared resonant emotional events with us and our fellow investigators*. Each chapter is focused on a teacher’s emotional story followed by an academic response from education researchers across Australia, Canada, the United Kingdom and Spain. Our book reveals how social and political pressures, intensifying workloads and lowered professional status are impacting teacher wellbeing and reshaping the profession.
The teachers whose stories are included in the book experienced challenging and confronting emotions: guilt, demoralisation, helplessness, alienation and anger. The contributing authors show many of these feelings are generated from the systems, processes and structures of schooling, over which which teachers have little agency or autonomy. The book demonstrates that teachers strive to be ethical, empathic, passionate, and committed professionals. But at present this work is threatened by a range of issues including unnecessary administrative burdens, workload and time pressure, poor work-life balance, vicarious trauma and emotional burnout.
These threats are making it increasingly difficult for educators to make a meaningful difference to the communities that they serve. These themes are common fare for Australian educational research. But our book offers a fresh take by focusing on teachers’ emotional lives and foregrounding teachers’ own experiences. Each chapter begins with a narrative extract from the interviews. The authors in our book shine a light on the complexity and nuance of teacher emotions. These professionals now have a voice that does not have enough presence in public conversations.
Foregrounding emotional experiences
One story in the book (co-authored by Saul Karnovsky and Susan Beltman) focuses on emotional labour in teaching. Alanna (a pseudonym) explains her thinking when confronted by a student who disclosed intentional self-harming behaviours in the classroom setting:
I guess I tried to put on a façade too as, in stay professional; I couldn’t cuddle her or say are you ok? I couldn’t go too deep into it, because I’m not trained in that area. So I was worried if I did say something, you may not think you are saying anything wrong but to them you have said something that is going to trigger them and they will do it again. So I didn’t want to do that, so I was like what do I say? Do I be nice? [Or] Do I just blow it off? Do I give her advice?
Emotional self-training
Alanna’s story describes a type of emotional self-training that teachers often undergo. She explains that she “tried to put on a façade” and “stay professional” during her encounter with the student. Karnovsky and Beltman explore how Alanna exerts substantial effort to modify her initial emotional response, that of feeling upset and helpless in the situation. Alanna enacts a deliberate process of feeling management to ensure her negative emotions will not be shown.
This form of emotional labour constitutes a vital element of teacher professional practice in modern school settings. Alanna’s experiences help sketch out the opaque contours of emotional rules in the teaching profession. These invisible boundaries delineate the difference between ‘appropriate’ allowable emotional expression and ‘inappropriate’ emotional expression that teachers learn to police. Teachers must navigate these tacit emotional borderlines. They must take care not to misstep, lest they be seen as “not right for the job”.
Profound emotional events
Like Alanna, many teachers experience profound emotional events in their working lives. As academics, we are able to provide insight into these events by bringing scholarly language, concepts and theories to interpret those experiences. Many teachers work in environments that do not support sharing the emotionally intense experiences that take place in their schools. ‘Solutions based’ leadership is in vogue within school management practice. But this approach can be an impediment that fails to connect with the complexity of context. The authors in our book discuss ‘teacher wellbeing’ as an inadequate lens through which to address teachers’ emotional experiences.
Many teachers are cynical of wellbeing programs and it can be cruel to expect overworked teachers to adopt these practices. They become a further load on top of all that was already present. The primary issue is that the ‘wellbeing’ approach typically places responsibility for positive emotional practice back upon the shoulders of individual teachers. A thread that runs throughout the book is that workplace emotions ought to be a shared responsibility. We suggest a more productive approach. That would be to focus upon reshaping the ways emotions are discussed, interpreted and communicated in the school context.
Collaboration and collegiality
Sustained collaborative and collegial work is required to improve teachers’ working conditions and school climates. Leaders have positions of influence over school policy, climate and structures. They can cultivate trust and introduce practices that allow teachers time and space to decompress, take time away from the business of their work, find solitude when needed and come together in a spirit of honesty and of collective, localised strategic thinking. Policy makers must create the conditions for this important change to occur in schools by trusting our education professionals to create local solutions to issues present in their communities.
Both in Australia and globally there is a turn towards a more critical and nuanced appraisal of teacher wellbeing. We are now recognising the problematic nature of toxic positivity and cruel wellbeing in schools, in which interventions made in the name of individual wellbeing and workplace positivity conversely lead to negative wellbeing outcomes.
Conversations about safety
Conversations about teacher safety, teacher workload and policy conditions shaping the retention crisis are reaching traditional and social media outlets. Community attitude is often on the side of teachers, and the inherent challenges posed by the modern structures of schooling have been laid bare by the COVID-19 pandemic. Now more than ever education research can provide a roadmap for the profession to reconstitute what is of value and what we hope to achieve through schooling systems. There are certainly models around the world to look to, where policy makers trust and value teachers as professionals, allowing them space, time and resources to focus on what matters most. There is a need for a shared discourse about teachers’ emotional concerns and the book aims to articulate some clear concepts for use by teachers and teacher educators alike.
* We wish to acknowledge Karen Peel, Debbie Mulligan, Bobby Harreveld, Nick Kelly and Patrick A. Danaher as Chief Investigators of the NARRES Australian research team who contributed the 42 teacher interviews.
Saul Karnovsky is a senior teacher educator and course coordinator at Curtin University, Perth which is located on Noongar Country. He is an active researcher in teacher wellbeing, attrition and retention taking an ethical and critical perspective on the profession.
Nick Kelly is an associate professor of design science in the School of Design, Faculty of Creative Industries, Education and Social Justice, QUT. His research investigates the foundations of design expertise and applies design science to educational contexts including design for learning, design pedagogy, and design of school environments.
Smart glasses are the latest shiny object in the edtech world. Sleek, AI-powered, and promoted as the next evolution in learning, they promise to transform the classroom. Real-time feedback. Immersive experiences. Personalised accessibility support. But here’s the thing: they also record. They see. They store data. And they’re being quietly rolled out in schools, because anyone can go to the Ray Ban Website, pay $500 and get them delivered to their door. Even if they live across the road from a school. Without a serious national conversation about what’s at stake, there are some critical questions we believe need your attention.
While some may enthusiastically praise these devices and paint a picture of tech-enhanced chemistry labs and accessible support for neurodiversity as exciting. Useful, even. Check whether they mention ethics. (Scrolling through the Ray Ban Website….)
Does it mention rights?
Does it mention harm?
What they do and don’t mention matters
Once a device can record, it can surveil. It can be used to monitor behaviour, capture images without consent, and stream content live to platforms beyond the classroom. In the hands of the wrong user, smart glasses aren’t just learning tools – they’re tools of manipulation, misuse, and control. And remember – anyone can buy smart glasses. This is a very different context than CCTV footage in schools. To explain, and let’s not be naive about who’s influencing young minds right now.
The same students, staff, parents and onlookers that might wearing smart glasses may also be influenced by Andrew Tate on TikTok, YouTube, and Instagram. Imagine this: you’re teaching Maths. A student parrots Andrew Tate’s misogynistic views and live streams your response through the smart glasses they were wearing. You had no idea. Its not like they held up their phone. They were just looking at you, through their glasses. Within minutes, it’s online, weaponised, and fed to the Tate army. They didn’t mean to destroy you or your capacity to feel safe teaching. But they did.
You leave teaching.
Not because you wanted to.
But because the damage was done.
Are you being recorded?
Now, even walking the streets feels uneasy – you are left wondering if the glasses people are wearing are quietly recording you while you buy groceries or cross the road. Other teachers start to wonder. What if parent-teacher interviews had smart glasses? Or the swimming carnival? What if someone is just sitting outside the school with a pair of glasses on while kids are playing? They don’t have their phone out, so their activity doesn’t trigger concern. This isn’t speculation. We’ve already seen how images can quickly be used to make AI-generated deepfake nudes of girls in schools. And teachers aren’t exempt. What smart glasses do is lower the barrier between thought and action.
They offer immediacy. Stealth. Power.
We’ve already seen smart glasses banned from ATAR exams in WA. But what banning them from parent-teacher interviews? PE lessons? Swimming carnivals? Where are the boundaries? And while we are asking questions – who is collecting the data? And where is it all going? How does it align with emerging and current legislation? And all of this is being marketed under the guise of innovation. But innovation without ethical frameworks can be weaponised. Smart glasses do not exist in a vacuum.
They exist in a world shaped by misogyny, online abuse, discrimination and algorithmic amplification of harm. If we ignore that, if we look only at the marketing promises and not at the sociocultural context, we are putting not only students, but teachers, parents, and society at the risk of harm. We need to stop treating “real-time feedback” as neutral. We need to stop pretending “immersive” means safe. And we need to seriously question who benefits from “innovation” when surveillance is embedded in the hardware and marketed by people with millions of followers, like Chris Hemsworth.
Let’s be clear: this is not just about a gadget.
Outside of schools, smart glasses are marketed as sleek, cutting-edge tools designed to enhance everyday life, work, and productivity. In the consumer market, they’re promoted as lifestyle wearables that offer hands-free access to navigation, messaging, music, and AI assistance – all wrapped in fashionable, discreet frames. In education smart glasses are being marketed as inclusive and dynamic. But in practice, they are building out a surveillance infrastructure inside schools. Anyone with smart glasses (students, parents, teachers, the person sitting outside the school) might be able to soon have access to real time facial recognition, eye tracking, emotion analysis, and real-time data sharing. That’s not innovation. That’s infrastructure. Infrastructure that we have legislation around to ensure our rights are being upheld.
Which Brings Us to Chris Hemsworth
You’ve probably seen the ads. Chris Hemsworth, superhero, Aussie icon, father of school-aged children, promoting AI-integrated smart glasses with enthusiasm and charm. He’s partnered with Ray Ban to showcase how wearable AI is the future. But here’s the thing: when a celebrity of his influence endorses surveillance tech, especially without reference to consent or harm, it’s not just a missed opportunity. Its reckless. Now, to be clear – this isn’t about criticising Chris Hemsworth – it’s a call to anyone with the power to shape public perception. If you have the platform, the reach, or the resources, you also have the responsibility to bring potential harms of emergent technologies in education into the conversation. Because ignoring those risks, especially when kids, parents, and teachers are watching, can’t be thought of as naïve. You have a social responsibility to consider if it is reckless.
And it is reckless
Reckless means acting without thinking about the potential consequences – especially when those actions could cause harm. That’s why we need an awareness campaign. Kids look up to Chris Hemsworth. So do parents. So do teachers. If smart glasses are going to be marketed to schools and families, there must be transparency about what they do and what they risk. That’s why we need to have a conversation with Chris. Not about banning the tech. But about being responsible with his platform.
Technology will continue to be marketed aggressively, but those with the power to influence and implement it must take far greater responsibility for its impact. Imagine if Chris Hemsworth read this and considered the perspective of a teacher. In the middle of a teaching crisis, a teacher is trying to deliver a science lesson on a sweltering Friday afternoon in a 35-degree classroom packed with 30 students, only to come home and discover that a slip of the tongue, saying “orgasm” instead of “organism,” has been turned into viral content in the manosphere. One more teacher doesn’t return to the classroom, during a teaching crisis.
Where Do We Go from Here?
We are not saying “ban it all.”
We are saying: Pause. Reflect. Regulate.
We are also not blaming anyone. Because this isn’t about blame. It’s about responsibility. It’s our collective responsibility to adopt new technologies in ways that respect commonly held expectations of technology, especially in semi-private spaces. We already know not to film at swimming carnivals, in toilets, or change rooms and we wouldn’t wear our phones on our faces during a parent-teacher interview – but smart glasses would do exactly that. Imagine if you just ‘forgot to take the glasses off’… Further, teachers and schools shouldn’t be expected to manage the risks of tech like smart glasses alone. Meta, Ray-Ban, and others must embed safeguards, transparency, and safety by design, privacy by design and so on. And those with huge platforms, like Chris Hemsworth could use his platform not just to promote, but to help spark conversations about where this tech belongs.
What if Chris Hemsworth posted to his 52M followers that “Some devices are made for skydiving – not for schools” – would the conversation shift? We would love to hear your thoughts.
Bios
Janine Arantes is a researcher and educator at Victoria University and advocate exploring the social, ethical, and psychological impacts of emerging technologies in education. Andrew Welsman is a researcher and educator at Victoria University with expertise in STEM education, digital technologies, and initial teacher education.
As digital technology becomes more ingrained in early childhood education, the debate over its effects on young children’s physical literacies intensifies. While there’s no denying the potential of technology to engage children in learning, it’s crucial to ask: How does it affect their physical literacies? This article explores the impact of digital technology on physical literacies and offers practical advice for parents and educators looking to strike a healthy balance. My research specifically investigates how teachers and parents perceive digital technology’s influence on young children’s physical literacies, addressing a critical gap in understanding its effects beyond motor skills.
The Growing Role of Digital Technology in Early Childhood
We live in an increasingly digital world, and young children are no exception. Tablets, smartboards, and educational apps are now staples in early childhood education. They offer children interactive learning experiences that can stimulate creativity, enhance cognitive skills, and foster social collaboration.
Research shows that when used effectively, technology can support literacy and numeracy development, catering to diverse learning needs (OECCED). But as screen time increases, concerns about its effect on physical literacies also rise. With children spending more time on devices, is there enough time left for physical activity, the kind of play that builds motor skills like running, jumping, and balancing?
What Is Physical Literacy?
The Australian Sports Commission states that physical literacy is about more than just mastering physical skills—it’s about confidence, motivation, and the ability to engage in physical activities for life. Early childhood is the perfect time to nurture this because active play lays the foundation for lifelong health. The Australian Physical Literacy Framework and The Early Years Learning Framework (EYLF) stress the importance of physical activity in children’s overall development, highlighting that active play is essential for physical, social, and emotional growth.
Yet, with the rise of screen-based learning, educators and parents must ask: how do we ensure that technology enhances, rather than detracts from, children’s physical literacies? Despite its importance, current research lacks a comprehensive definition of how digital technology influences physical literacies in young children. My research seeks to address this gap by exploring how teachers and parents perceive and define physical literacies in today’s digital age.
How Does Digital Technology Affect Physical Literacies?
Research on the intersection of digital technology and physical literacies presents a complex picture. On one hand, increasing screen time is linked to lower levels of physical activity, which can hinder the development of essential motor skills such as balance, coordination, and agility. While studies show a correlation between increased screen time and reduced physical activity, little research has explored how parents and educators actively manage these challenges in early education settings.
On the other hand, there’s growing evidence that digital technology can support physical literacies when used creatively. Motion-based games, such as those using augmented reality (AR) or exergaming, encourage children to move while they engage with technology. Apps that promote activities like dance or yoga can integrate fun physical challenges with the engaging aspects of digital play, making them excellent tools for developing motor skills.
So, how can we ensure that technology is a tool that promotes, rather than stifles, physical development?
Striking the Right Balance: Practical Tips for Educators and Parents
The key is balance—striking the right balance between technology and physical activity in early childhood education is essential for fostering healthy development. Here are some tips to help educators and parents find the right balance when incorporating digital technologies into young children’s physical literacies:
Incorporate active digital play, where educators and parents can choose technology tools that encourage movement, such as interactive whiteboards for dance activities or apps designed for physical exploration. These tools help make learning more dynamic and engaging.
Limiting screen time according to the World Health Organization (WHO) guidelines is important to prevent it from replacing physical activity. It is essential to prioritise free playtime, where children can move, explore, and engage physically, which is vital for their development.
Blending technology with outdoor play provides another valuable approach. By using nature exploration apps to guide outdoor activities or integrating storytelling apps with physical role-playing, educators and parents can ensure that technology supports active learning while fostering both cognitive and physical growth.
Engaging parents is equally important. Encouraging co-play or co-viewing during screen time transforms it into a shared experience that prompts movement and meaningful interactions. This not only strengthens parent-child relationships but also supports the development of physical literacies.
Prioritising unstructured outdoor play remains essential, as it offers children opportunities to develop motor skills and interact with their environment. Ensuring children spend time outdoors every day, free from screens, supports their physical and emotional well-being.
Doesn’t have to be a battle
The relationship between digital technology and physical literacies doesn’t have to be a battle. The truth is, when used thoughtfully, digital tools can complement physical play and support young children’s overall development. It’s about finding a balance—one where technology enriches learning without overshadowing the need for physical activity.
By integrating technology that encourages movement and setting clear boundaries around screen time, educators and parents can help children thrive in both the digital world and the physical one. By examining how digital technology intersects with physical literacies, my research aims to provide educators and parents with the knowledge they need to make informed decisions about integrating technology while fostering active play. Understanding these perspectives can help bridge the gap between concerns about screen time and the opportunities digital tools offer to support movement and engagement.
What’s your experience with balancing technology and physical activity in early childhood education? Share your thoughts in the comments below!
Trent Davis is an experienced early childhood educator and is passionate about advancing research in the early years’ domain. He is currently an adjunct academic and PhD candidate (post-confirmation) within the School of Education and Professional Studies at Griffith University.His study applies a case study and phenomenological approach to uncover these perspectives, offering practical insights that can shape future early childhood practices.
We are part of a broader research team* investigating how online worlds are shaping Australian schooling. It’s a timely issue floodlit by the Netflix drama Adolescence. In 2024, our study contributed to a flood of reportage and academic research concerning a rise in sexist and misogynistic encounters in Australian schools, and the broader social need for a coherent strategy around gender based violence (GBV) that challenges the power structures and rigid binary norms that underpin it.
Universities are spaces where this work is both needed and occurs.
What universities should do
As social institutions and major providers of education, universities can and should play a role in promoting long-term social and cultural change through supporting diversity and justice oriented research and teaching. Indeed, universities are not only where specialists like teachers, lawyers, journalists, and health professionals are prepared to work in society, but where GBV itself is occurring to the extent that the Federal Government recently released its Action Plan Addressing Gender-based Violence in Higher Education. This is a welcome development but does not mean that education around gender justice has been mainstreamed. Nor has it manifested in greater institutional support for academics who teach this complex terrain. In fact, our research indicates that academics teaching diversity-related content are experiencing a sharp rise in GBV and ‘anti-woke’ backlash.
The second phase of our research into digital worlds and their impacts on Australian classrooms turns to the university sector. It includes surveys and interviews with tertiary educators from across Australia. We ask if they have witnessed or experienced a rise in anti-social language or behaviours amongst tertiary students. Thus far, we have received 59 surveys and undertaken nine in-depth interviews, each approximately two hours long. While a modest sample, our data mirrors patterns playing out in schools and society more broadly.
Diversity related content ‘woke’ and ‘politically extreme’
Most phase two respondents are women or culturally minoritised academics from across disciplines (i.e., education, politics, journalism, business, human resource development, health, and humanities). They teach diversity content relating to racial and gender justice, LGBTQIA+ rights, multiculturalism, First Nations sovereignty, and religious inclusion. As a dispersed teaching body, these academics share stories of the emotional burdens of this work. They describe this as having grown harder recently, and often having deleterious impacts on student evaluations of teaching which affect academics’ health and career progression.
As a casual academic in education explained:
“Over the past three years behaviour has grown progressively worse from largely Anglo Australian cohorts of … young men. They watch sporting matches and do online betting during class … They do not like strong female tutors who talk about Aboriginal education or inclusion. [They] hide these sentiments until anonymous feedback is due. Then they write about the tutor being ‘dangerous’ and opinionated and say that politics shouldn’t be part of education.”
Academics across disciplines note diversity content is increasingly being framed by some students (and staff) as woke or politically extreme. The consequence for those who teach this content is a rise in feelings of precarity, anxiety, and frustration:
“I have stopped challenging students for fear of the feedback as I am on probation. I can’t do a good job ethically and morally. I don’t want to teach any more.”
Student evaluations are a real problem in this context. They have always been problematic. But with an ever more polarised discourse and the necessity to take firmer stands in class which make you inevitably unpopular with some students it is now completely unacceptable for universities to continue using these tools to evaluate performance.
LGBTQIA+ and Gender Equity Backlash
Australian academics also speak of a rise in anti-LGBTQIA+ backlash and pushback against gender equity specifically:
“Every year I consider just not teaching anything about gender equality or diversity, to avoid the grief. But on I go …
The anti-LGBTIQA+ backlash from students really shook me … There have been several examples of transphobia, homophobia, and misogyny in my classes especially in recent years, managing these interactions in class is getting increasingly difficult as opinions are becoming more polarised.
Just last week, a student expressed their opinion that it was ok to persecute lesbian and gay people because “they do not have children and contribute nothing to society, just like childless, single straight women” and therefore do not ‘deserve the protection of the law’.”
Lack of institutional and policy support
When asked if they feel supported by their institutions or what, specifically, is being done when challenging encounters arise, most respondents describe feeling insufficiently supported or institutionally gaslit, saying “nothing is ever done. Complaints get swept under the rug.” And “staff who experience bullying, harassment or mistreatment are made to feel they don’t know how to handle the situation.” Academics collectively speak of feeling alone, experiencing anxiety, and exhaustion.
But institutional inaction around GBV or anti-diversity backlash in classrooms links to a broader history of policy failure. This contributes to workplace cultures in which responses to such incidents are often ineffectual, absent, piecemeal, or left to individual teachers to resolve. This happens in schools and in universities. As funding to universities has been reduced, the higher education sector has grown more ‘masculinist’ and ‘business-like’. Courses centring diversity content are less institutionally prized than, for instance, the industry-aligned ‘hard’ sciences. This means academics who teach diversity content may often be working in isolation.
Universities are some of the last places where informed social critique and engagement across differences is nurtured. These are vital elements of a healthy democracy. Formal education should provide strong intellectual resistance to the polarised beliefs currently being amplified by digital worlds. Simply banning social media is insufficient. Yet, women and minority academics are increasingly carrying this work alone. They report feeling isolated, burnt out, and targeted by students labelling them ‘woke’ or ‘politically extreme’ – dynamics that will undoubtedly intensify with the Trump Administration’s blatant ‘war on woke’. Education is political and backlash against diversity is becoming extreme. Education must be part of the solution. Diversity work including gender justice must be valued as a core curriculum mandate across Australia’s pre-tertiary and tertiary education fields. Our social fabric depends on it.
* Professor Ed Palmer, Dr Eszter Szenes and Dr Daniel Lee all contributed to the research on which this article is based. Research ethics approval #2024-017.
Sam Schulz is an associate professor and sociologist of education at The University of Adelaide. Sarah McDonald is a lecturer at the Centre for Research in Education & Social Inclusion in UniSA Education Futures, University of South Australia.
The header image is from the Netflix series Adolescence
This is a lost opportunity to bridge the current diversity gap in the teaching workforce and a lost opportunity to address the concerning national teacher shortage. Ethnic minorities, including Asians, are caught in a vicious cycle of underrepresentation, where small numbers of existing ethnic minority teachers in Australia equates to difficulty attracting new ethnic minority teachers.
Asians are the fastest-growing ethnic group in Australia. They make up about one in six of the overall population. We don’t have specific data for Asian teachers and students but we know teachers from minority backgrounds, including Asians, account for only 4% of the P-12 teaching workforce in 2022. We also know there is increasing student racial diversity in schools. The result is a widening teacher-student racial parity gap.
Research has consistently captured the benefits of teacher-student racial-cultural-linguistic alignment. For instance, scholarship demonstrates a racially diverse teacher workforce contributes to minority student perceptions of schools as more welcoming places. It allows minority teachers to bring their own understanding of relevant cultural contexts, while also acting as role models for students from non-dominant backgrounds.
Research shows that they are crucial in supporting student well-being, especially among academically vulnerable minority students. Minority teachers are instrumental in providing an equitable and inclusive education, ensuring that students from diverse backgrounds can have their needs and voices heard and understood in their schools.
Similar considerations apply to Asian students and teachers in Australia. For instance, many Asian students tend to be seen as a culturally homogeneous whole, and are consequently (unfairly) held to a one-size-fits-all expectation around linguistic ability and academic performance.
These students often grapple with racial bias, discrimination, and lack of belonging in Australian schools.
But Asian teachers can leverage cultural knowledge and community connections to support Asian students. They can also debunk stereotypes among non-Asian students and educate non-Asian colleagues. While we are not suggesting that Asian teachers represent a distinct typology of educators or that racial matching is always necessary, research has shown us that educators who understand the cultural and social dynamics that shape their students’ lives are best positioned to support their learning. Asian teachers help challenge current dominant white and monolingual racial stereotypes of teaching, thereby encouraging more Asian students to aspire to become teachers.
Student experiences of racism and discrimination impact a sense of belonging and safety. That’s been a barrier to wanting to work in schools. Those memories of being belittled by school staff cause negative self-concept and lower minority students’ confidence in future teaching abilities.
Cultural and parental influences can also discourage Asian youth from choosing teaching in favour of securing employment in high-status, and high-salary careers. Many Asian students come from families who have internalised the racially-driven ‘model minority’ status. They often face significant familial pressure that emphasises high academic achievement as a stepping stone to employability and financial security. Asian parents may encourage their children to focus on prestigious and high-paying jobs as a protective factor from discrimination in a white-dominated labour market.
Some recommendations include increasing the number of minority teacher educators and creating an inclusive teacher preparation curriculum that reflects diversity to help attract and retain minority teacher candidates. Of course, this needs to first be grounded in formalised antiracist agendas within teacher education programs and at the institutional level. Similarly, beyond higher education, schools need to nip this problem in the bud by adopting a similar antiracist approach. Here, collective and coordinated support from school leadership, staff, and broader school communities is essential in rejecting racism and discrimination against Asian students and teachers.
Australian education research has remained relatively silent on Asian Australia despite the growing presence – and increasing importance – of Asian teacher and student populations alike. A growing body of scholarship is interrogating the racial-colonial discourses that impact this key stakeholder in Australian education.
Given the clear implications this discussion has for teacher attraction and retention as a means to improved (racial) equity in schools and higher education spaces, we contend that there is much that urgently needs to be done in this space.
Aaron Teo is a lecturer in curriculum and pedagogy at the University of Southern Queensland’s School of Education. He is convenor for the Australian Association for Research in Education Social Justice Special Interest Group. His research focusses on the raced and gendered subjectivities of migrant teachers from “Asian” backgrounds in the Australian context, as well as critical pedagogies in white Australian (university and school) classroom spaces.
Sun Yee Yip is a lecturer at the Faculty of Education at Monash University. Her research focuses on teacher knowledge development, teacher diversity and raising the status of teachers and the teaching profession.
