An Explanation with Help from Two Famous Dylan’s (Dylan Wiliam & Dylan Thomas)
At our recent Golden Thread-Inclusion & SEND conference, keynote speaker Phil Leaney grappled with the topic of inclusive leadership in a meritocratic system, posing the question:
‘How do we define success in a world obsessed with performance?’
The reality is the goal of inclusion is at odds with a system that has championed a model of success in schools built on rigid metrics and uniformity. So called ‘strict heads’ are celebrated by easy to measure metrics and neat narratives. Yet here’s the uncomfortable truth: education is messy, human, and deeply diverse. Any system that ignores that complexity is setting many young people up for failure. These approaches also assume that what works in one school will work everywhere. But as Dylan Wiliam wisely reminds us:
“Everything works somewhere, nothing works everywhere.”
Education is not a factory line. Strategies must adapt to the unique needs of learners and communities. Many blanket policies don’t just fail they actively harm inclusion.
The Hard Work of Inclusion demands nuanced ambition, balance, and thoughtfulness rather than flashy slogans or simple measurements. True inclusion forms the foundation of an education system that values every child. When schools focus solely on meritocracy, they encourage conformity at the expense of diversity resulting in exclusion disguised as excellence.
A Human Lens
Dylan Thomas, in Under Milk Wood, captures the tender complexity of human nature in one of the most loved passages of the play:
“We are not wholly bad or good
Who live our lives under Milk Wood,
And Thou, I know, wilt be the first
To see our best side, not our worst.”
Thomas writes this as part of Eli Jenkins’ Prayer, a poetic blessing over a small, imperfect community. The lines acknowledge that all people contain contradictions, strengths and flaws, hopes and fears and that what we choose to see in others matters profoundly. Eli Jenkins chooses to see the good, the potential, the best side of his neighbours rather than their shortcomings.
Thomas reminds us that human beings are never reducible to a single trait, behaviour, or measure. People are mosaics: complicated, contradictory, and capable of growth. The prayer expresses a belief in compassion over judgement, understanding over dismissal. It is a celebration of the everyday humanity that exists even in the most ordinary or troubled of lives. In education this message rings powerfully true. When we view children through narrow lenses, test scores, behaviour charts, ranking systems; we risk defining them only by their ‘worst side’ or deficits: their struggle, their gap, their misstep, their difference from the expected norm. When we adopt an approach grounded in curiosity, empathy and value a broader view of success, high ambition for all takes on a new meaning, we begin to see what Thomas describes as their ‘best side’, their strengths, creativity, and potential.
The Context of Education
We can take Thomas’s meaning into the heart of the education debate:
If we embrace the hard, but beautiful work of creating schools ambitious enough to craft curricula and pedagogical practices that allow all to belong and achieve, then we begin to see the best in everyone.
This requires:
• recognising the full humanity of every learner, not just their performance metrics
• designing learning that honours diverse minds and cultures
• trusting that talent, as Sir Ken Robinson reminded us, “is there to be discovered” not manufactured through compliance
• resisting simplistic, one-size-fits-all approaches that reward conformity over creativity
In other words, true inclusion isn’t a soft option. It’s demanding, sophisticated, and deeply principled work. It is also profoundly hopeful. When we commit to seeing pupils as Thomas saw the villagers of Milk Wood, complex, imperfect, and full of possibility we build education systems that dignify every child.
And when we do that, the best in them does more than emerge.