: Ian Timbrell
: More Than Flags and Rainbows Getting LGBTQ+ provision right in schools
: Independent Thinking Press
: 9781781354377
: 1
: CHF 17.60
:
: Allgemeines, Lexika
: English
: 200
: Wasserzeichen
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
Thinking beyond the rainbow. Drawing upon his own lived experience as an LGBTQ+ individual and educator, Ian Timbrell communicates his vision for comprehensively inclusive schools with authenticity, relatability and heart. It's More than Flags and Rainbows helps schools develop the confidence and the know-how to ensure meaningful, consistent and fully inclusive provision for all. It promotes inclusivity that goes far beyond symbolic flags and rainbows. Taking schools on a journey towards improvement, this book enables schools to plan strategically and establish an environment where all children and young people can freely express their authentic selves. Written with warmth, passion and empathy, this groundbreaking book encourages schools to think 'beyond the rainbow', inviting them to create meaningful and lasting change for the LGBTQ+ students in their care.  Essential reading for headteachers, teachers, pastoral leads and anyone passionate about LGBTQ+ inclusion and diversity in schools.

p style='font-weight: 400;'>Ian Timbrell is the founder of More Than Flags and Rainbows, a not-for-profit organisation that supports schools and charities with LGBTQ+ inclusion. He is an Independent Thinking Associate and has delivered inspiring talks and workshops across the UK that empower educators to tackle homophobic bullying, embrace equity and foster inclusivity. Drawing on his personal journey and 20 years of teaching experience, Ian's debut title, It's More Than Flags and Rainbows provides schools with the knowledge and strategies to create meaningful, lasting change for LGBTQ+ inclusion.

Little did I know that my life, which was previously full of Pat Sharp andThunderCats, would be so different in secondary school. Starting Year 7 was exciting, daunting, and overwhelming, but like many Year 7s, I was looking forward to it. I went to one of the biggest secondary schools in the country; it was spread over three sites and felt like a small town. I grew up in Bridgend, South Wales, which had a huge ex-mining and rugby culture. I was very sporty and academic, so I should have fitted right in. But there was one problem: no matter what I was good at, I was the wrong sort of boy.

My parents were eager for me to begin secondary school and bought me a brand new blazer to wear on my first day. Unfortunately for me, blazers were optional and not one other person wore one. I soon became known as ‘blazer boy’. (Ian Eagleton, if you’re reading this, let’s write a book together calledBlazer Boy; I can only imagine his superpowers and the adventures he will go on.) This was my first experience of name-calling in school, and as anyone who has experienced it knows, it is always more unpleasant than it seems. There was a huge culture of ‘banter’, and this constant ribbing of one another covered up a nasty undercurrent that was part of the fabric of the school. So many pupils were either subject to or perpetrators of this banter that it was often impossible to tell what was good-natured ribbing and what was simply an insult.

Within a few weeks of starting school, I learned a new word: gay. This word was used as a jeer to taunt and bully me. At first it was a small group of boys in my year group, but soon pupils in other year groups were using it too. I have no idea why I was targeted. I certainly didn’t ever use or identify with the word at that time. I have often wondered what it was they saw in me that meant gay was applicable to me. Was it that I was a bit camp? Was it because I was blonde, quiet, and a bit of a geek, so I was an easy target? Some may say that ‘You can always tell,’ but if that was true then all gay kids would be bullied (which they aren’t, although they are more likely to be) and no one who isn’t gay would be bullied using that word (which isn’t the case). At this time, the word ‘gay’ was prevalent as an insult, and I certainly wasn’t the only one being tormented by its use.

Sadly, the