I Wonder What Spreadsheet Captures That?

Written from my desk on a distinctly Autumnal morning, while Lola snores beside me with the confidence of someone who has received correspondence from the Department for Education and is now expecting a ministerial car or at least a vote in the next General Election.

She has yet to contribute anything useful to the blog post discussion, unless you count demanding belly rubs as a form of public consultation.

A little while ago I wrote to the Prime Minister and the Education Secretary about something that matters enormously to me - early intervention and mental health support for children and young people, and, pleasantly surprised, I received a reply from the Department for Education.

I know. Try to contain your excitement!

The response was ultimately positive and encouraging (Yay). It acknowledged the work of the All Is Well Approach and outlined plans to improve support for children's mental health, including the continued expansion of Mental Health Support Teams in schools and colleges.

According to the response, 60% of pupils and learners were covered by a Mental Health Support Team in March 2026, up from 52% the previous year, with the aim of achieving full national coverage by 2029.

The response also recognised the importance of helping school staff feel better equipped to support children with more complex needs, including trauma and neurodivergence, alongside providing resources and guidance to help schools offer appropriate support.

That's important, because recognising that children need support is one thing. Making sure the adults around them have the knowledge, confidence, time and resources to provide it is quite another.

Referencing these aspects is progress, and progress matters.

…but it also left me thinking about the children who are struggling today.

The ones who arrive at school carrying worries they don't yet have words for.

The ones whose anxiety shows up as tummy aches, withdrawal, anger or simply trying very hard not to be noticed.

The ones who don't necessarily meet a threshold but still need support.

Because children can't check a rollout timetable and decide to postpone their difficulties until 2029.

And that's why early intervention matters, not because it solves everything, but because sometimes the biggest difference begins with something very small…like somebody noticing, somebody listening, somebody making time and a relationship that tells a child, "You matter here."

One part of the response particularly caught my attention.

The response outlined plans for schools to monitor children's sense of belonging and engagement, recognising the importance of helping pupils feel connected to their school communities.

I think that's a genuinely positive ambition because belonging matters. A lot. I talk about it. A lot.

The response also highlighted the importance of feeling safe, being included and having positive relationships with teachers and peers. In other words, belonging isn't just about being physically present in school. It's about how it feels to be there.

But ‘belonging’ is a funny thing to measure, isn’t it?

It's easy to count attendance…Much harder to count the child who came into school because one trusted adult made them feel expected.

It's easy to record behaviour incidents…Much harder to record the moment a child was heading towards one, but didn't, because somebody noticed they weren't quite themselves that morning.

It's easy to monitor engagement…Much harder to measure the moment a child decides they feel safe enough to join in.

Or ask for help.

Or make a mistake.

Or be themselves.

I have to wonder what spreadsheet or statistic or data point captures that.

Of course data really matters. Statistics help us understand trends, identify gaps and decide where resources are needed. We need to know what's working and where support is missing. But the most important things often happen in the spaces between the numbers.

A familiar face, a warm welcome, a conversation without judgement or a safe place to land after a difficult day. Those moments rarely make it into reports, yet they can change how a child experiences school, how safe they feel and whether they believe there's someone they can turn to when things get difficult. And perhaps that's why conversations about children's mental health can never just be about services, targets or percentages.

They're also about relationships. Connection. Creating environments where children feel safe enough to learn, grow and ask for help when they need it.

And who's finding the time to make all this happen?

Because of course, all of this takes time. Time to notice when a child isn't quite themselves. Time to build trust. Time to understand what's behind a behaviour rather than simply reacting to what's in front of us. Time that school staff are somehow expected to find while teaching, planning, marking, attending meetings and dealing with approximately seventeen hundred other things before lunchtime.

I'm only slightly exaggerating.

Teachers and school staff are already doing an enormous amount to support the children in their care. We can't keep telling them that relationships, connection and early intervention matter without also considering the time, training, resources and support they need to make those things possible.

We can't ask people to do more of the things that matter without making space for them to do it.

Children and young people need appropriate mental health provision, and improving access to specialist help is an important part of the picture.

But we also need support that works before difficulties escalate, alongside the specialist services children may need.

This isn't about choosing one approach over another. It's about making sure the different parts work together.

Because we cannot expect one teacher, or one school, or one service or one small organisation to fix everything.

We need specialist support, supported school staff, meaningful training, adequate resources and opportunities for early intervention. We need relationships, creativity and practical ways to help children feel connected.

And we need to join the dots.

So, what happens next?

The Department for Education's response was without a doubt encouraging, and I'm pleased to see issues such as mental health, belonging and early intervention remaining firmly on the agenda. A letter won't change everything, of course. I wasn't expecting it to. But raising these issues matters and keeping them on the agenda matters.

And turning good intentions into everyday experiences for children matters most of all.

For me, the real question is how we bring the different parts together so that support isn't simply something we talk about in policies, guidance documents or reports. It becomes something children can actually feel in their day to day lives.

Because the child who needs support today cannot always wait for the perfect system tomorrow.

Sometimes support starts with a policy. Sometimes it starts with funding. Sometimes it starts with specialist intervention. And sometimes it starts with something much smaller, including a hairy ginger therapy dog who thinks every problem can be improved with treats.

At the All Is Well Approach, we'll keep doing our bit of building connections, creating opportunities and working alongside the people who want children to feel safe, supported and able to thrive because sometimes the little things aren't little at all.

And perhaps the real question isn't just how we measure progress. It's whether children can feel it.

As for Lola, she remains delighted that belonging is now a national priority. Unfortunately, she appears to have interpreted this as a commitment to universal cuddles, unlimited tennis balls to defluff and compulsory sausages.

The sausage policy, I'm told, remains under review.

Lola has requested an urgent meeting.

I've explained that we're not, in fact, running the country.

She remains unconvinced. 💙