Conference Agenda

This paper reports the first phase of a doctoral study examining how inclusive education is framed within England’s Special Educational Needs and Disabilities (SEND) Code of Practice (2015) and how this aligns with the Curriculum Framework for Children and Young People with Vision Impairment (CFVI). While the SEND Code of Practice (2015) provides the statutory foundation for inclusive education, the CFVI represents a practice-oriented framework co-developed by professionals, young people, and families to support equitable provision for learners with vision impairment. This paper investigates how inclusive education is constructed, framed, and operationalised within the Code, and the extent to which its language and structure align with the pedagogical priorities embedded in the CFVI.

The study is guided by the central research question:

How does the SEND Code of Practice (2015) conceptualise inclusive education, and to what extent does this construction align with the principles and domains outlined in the CFVI?

The analysis is informed by two key conceptual frameworks. First, the study adopts an interpretivist perspective, drawing on Yanow (2000), Fischer & Forester (1993), and Schwartz-Shea & Yanow (2013), treating policy texts not simply as technical instructions but as meaning-making artefacts embedded in institutional, political, and social contexts. From this perspective, the Code is understood as a discursive space where inclusion is defined, justified, and translated into practice through language. Second, the analysis incorporates theoretical insights from Brahm Norwich’s work on inclusive pedagogy and the 'dilemmas of difference'. Norwich’s conceptualisation of balancing common curriculum access with individualised responses informs the development of the Seven-Domain Framework used in this study.

The Seven-Domain Framework captures key dimensions of inclusive practice—Teaching Strategy, Curriculum, Educational Environment, Support Focus, Assistive Technologies, Indicators of Success, and Educator Knowledge. These domains reflect both classroom-level and system-level features of inclusion and are partially informed by the CFVI, which highlights the importance of environmental accessibility, specialist skill development, and inter-agency collaboration for learners with vision impairment.

A second analytical lens, the Universal–Specialist–Dynamic Framework, categorises the types of provision described in the Code. This distinction is well established in inclusive education systems internationally. It reflects the balance between universal strategies intended for all learners, specialist provision tailored to specific needs, and dynamic forms of support that sit between the two. While the Dual Access Model in vision impairment education expresses this logic specifically for VI learners, the framework used here represents a broader conceptual structure applicable across inclusive education contexts.

These two complementary frameworks allow a structured analysis of what the Code emphasises, how it describes different types of provision, and where key gaps appear.

The study contributes to European and international debates on inclusive education by offering a detailed analysis of how statutory policy communicates its expectations and priorities. It also raises questions about the relationship between policy coherence and practical implementation, particularly for low-incidence disabilities such as vision impairment. Moreover, The analysis highlights a common pattern in national policy, where system-level accountability receives more attention than classroom pedagogy. This imbalance has also been noted in several European education systems.

As a part of a cross-cultural doctoral project, the paper also highlights how insights from England’s policy landscape may inform comparative work and broader reflections on the inclusive education. The findings have relevance for policymakers, practitioners, and researchers interested in the interaction between statutory guidance, professional frameworks, and everyday educational practice.

Education systems across the world have long grappled with the concepts of inclusion, exclusion, and segregation, which are fundamentally spatially imbued (Downes 2020; Kitchin 1998; Ypinazar and Pagliano 2004). Despite the growing focus on the "spatial turn" in education over the past two decades, spatial understandings remain under-theorised in this domain (Buchner and Köpfer 2022; Köpfer 2025).

This paper proposes a novel theoretical framework—the concentric spatial turn—to address the limitations of existing diametric spatial systems that perpetuate exclusion and segregation (Downes et al. 2024, Travers and Downes, 2025).Diametric spatial systems are characterized by oppositional, hierarchical structures that reinforce exclusionary practices, such as the segregation of students with special educational needs and disabilities (SEND) into separate spaces (Foucault and Miskowiec 1986; Kitchin 1998; Soja 1989, 2000). These systems rely on assumed separation, closure, and mirror image inverted symmetry, creating rigid binaries such as "us versus them" and "above versus below" (Lévi-Strauss 1963, 1977).

In contrast, concentric spatial systems offer a relational model of assumed connection, where distinctions are made within a framework of connectivity and shared humanity (Bronfenbrenner and Morris 2006; Downes et al. 2024).The proposed concentric spatial turn builds on the initial spatial turn in education, which treated space as socially constructed and malleable (Lefebvre 1991; Soja 2000; Massey 2005). Drawing on interdisciplinary insights from psychology, anthropology, and phenomenology, this framework emphasises the dynamic interplay between physical and relational spaces (Lakoff and Johnson 1999; Ricoeur 1981, 1994; Lévi-Strauss 1963; Zlatev 2005; Vendra and Furia 2021). It challenges the reduction of space to homogenous or undifferentiated structures, advocating instead for a plurality of responsive spaces that foster meaningful engagement and inclusion (Buchner and Köpfer 2022; Nind, Köpfer and Lemmer 2022; Downes 2024).

Using Ireland as an illustrative example, this paper examines the evolution of special and inclusive education policies and practices over the past century (Ring 2024; Travers 2023). Despite policy commitments to inclusion, such as the ratification of the United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD 2007) in 2018, Ireland continues, similar to many European countries, to experience growth in segregated special schools and classes (NCSE 2024). This contradiction between policy intentions and practice highlights the need for a paradigm shift toward concentric spatial systems (Cefai et al. 2021; EU Council Recommendation Pathways to School Success 2022).

The paper argues that concentric spaces can address systemic challenges in inclusive education by reconceptualizing schools as multiple, fluid spaces that accommodate diverse needs (Downes et al. 2024). It explores the implications of this framework for governance, pedagogy, curriculum, assessment, and stakeholder engagement, emphasising the importance of breaking down silos between health and education and fostering authentic connections between schools, families, and communities (Downes 2020; Kakos 2022; Ferrare and Apple 2010; Travers and King 2025).

It has been argued that personnel and resources traditionally allocated to special education should be re-directed toward building inclusive schools, partly through working with teachers and systems, and partly through direct work that enables pupil participation (Göransson et al., 2017). Co-teaching is regarded as the best option for this, but is challenged by time constraints and professional inequalities (Mulholland and O’Connor, 2016). In reality, one-to-one support but particularly small group work outside general classrooms are dominant practices, even in countries with well-established inclusive education systems (Paulsrud and Nilholm, 2023). It remains unclear whether such withdrawal, or ‘pull-out’, creates a parallel system of special education within mainstream schooling, or whether it supports inclusion by enabling flexible grouping and a plurality of support practices (Travers and Downes, 2025).

Withdrawal carries the risk of marginalising learners (Buchner and Köpfer, 2025) and teachers note much of what is offered in withdrawal spaces can be provided within class (Vlachou et al., 2015). Despite this, research suggests learners can appreciate separate learning spaces, describing them as quieter, calmer, less pressured and more accessible in terms of instruction (Conn et al., 2024). Some learners express a strong sense of belonging in separate spaces and pride in being part of a distinct group (Holt et al. 2012). These findings reflect wider debates on social inclusion which acknowledge the need to remove barriers while recognising the value of segregated, dignified spaces that individuals play an active role in shaping (Norwich and Webster, 2024).

Belonging has become a central concept for inclusive education in recent years. Children and young people can experience profound exclusion even while physically present in mainstream settings (Dunne et al., 2019), and inclusive education is increasingly understood as requiring meaningful participation and a genuine sense of belonging (Hernández-Saca et al., 2023). Individual learners attend to different aspects of their environment, leading them to experience belonging in deeply personal ways. However, when consulted, they consistently describe belonging as feeling comfortable and safe enough to engage in learning, which they identify as the core activity of their classrooms and schools (Black-Hawkins et al., 2022). Positive peer relationships are crucial for learners, but also positive relationships with teachers: whether they like their teacher, whether their teacher likes them and whether instruction is understandable (Black-Hawkins et al., 2022).

Understanding inclusive pedagogy as a relational process cannot be overstated. Pedagogy does not arise from objects, such as curriculum, learning spaces and tasks, but from interactions between subjects (Gabel, 2002). Teachers must view learners as attentive, capable and agentive, their learning subjectivities emerging out of responsive pedagogical relations. A caring attitude is essential since learning is emotionally situated, but pedagogy is ultimately grounded in knowledge-based relationships (Biesta, 2017). Dialogic practices, such as talking, questioning and thinking together, are central to fostering engagement and learning.

This applies to all learners, including those who bring difference. While such learners may experience greater frustration and anxiety, making care relations especially important, the core pedagogical experience remains a knowledge-based encounter between teacher and learner. Learners are supported primarily through rich language-mediated practices, including explanation, questioning, discussion, visualisation, praise and reassurance (Prediger and Buró, 2024). This raises a key question: given the demands placed on classroom teachers, how challenging is this relational and linguistic work, and to what extent might withdrawal practices respond to a wider set of priorities and needs (Naraian, 2019)? Are withdrawal spaces addressing learner deficits or offering a range of meaningful and responsive spaces for diversity (Travers and Downes, 2025)?