Most schools and organisations will tell you they want equity.
They say it with conviction. They put it on a slide. They pin it to a strategy.
And I/we believe them.
But here is the problem. Equity is slow work in a fast system.
So we reach for speed like it is a virtue.
Fast lessons. Fast interventions. Fast data drops.
Pace performs priority. It doesn’t prove it.
Equity does not fail because people do not care.
It fails because we treat time like a luxury.
Because we build institutions that cannot bear the discomfort of moving carefully.
The moving walkway problem
Beverly Daniel Tatum uses the analogy of a moving walkway. The point is simple. If you do nothing, you are still moving. The system will carry you. .
And the walkway is moving towards inequity, doing nothing is still cooperation.
But here is what we often miss: sprinting on that same walkway does not change the destination.
You can move with urgency and still arrive at the same injustice.
Speed does not equal change.
If the rules, assumptions, and habits of the place are intact, faster just means harder contact.
Hazard perception in real life
Think about the hazard perception test when you learn to drive.
The point is to prove you can notice.
Because the faster you drive, the less you see.
Your world narrows.
You miss the kid at the crossing.
You do not clock the cyclist.
You only recognise danger when it is already in front of you, already unavoidable, already too late.
That is what pace does inside schools.
When everything is urgent, we stop noticing patterns.
We stop noticing who is always “the problem”.
Who is always being “reset”.
Who is always being removed “for learning”.
Who never gets the benefit of the doubt.
Who gets labelled before they get listened to.
Speed is how inequity hides in plain sight.
And then we act surprised when the same children keep getting hit.
“Good drivers” and “good teachers”
Every driver has the capacity to harm someone. That is not an accusation. It is a fact. A car is not neutral. It is power, weight, speed, and momentum.
Most people think of themselves as good drivers. Most people think harm is something other people do. Reckless people. Bad people. People who do not care.
Education has its own version of that story.
Good teachers. Good schools. Good intentions.
But good intentions do not cancel impact.
Good does not mean incapable of harm.
If you believe you are a good driver, and you drive like the road belongs to you.
If you believe you are a good teacher, you teach like the system is basically fine and the problem must be somewhere else.
The belief that we are harmless is what makes us most dangerous.
Equity asks for a different posture. Not shame. Just honesty.
A willingness to hold your hands on the wheel and admit what the vehicle can do.
A willingness to keep your hands on the behaviour policy and admit what it’s capable of doing to a child
The thrill is not speed
Slowing down does not mean you enjoy driving less. It just changes the thrill.
When you are learning to drive, everything feels like too much.
Join the roundabout in the correct lane.
Change gear.
Indicate at the right time.
Watch for the person doing it wrong.
Leave safely.
It is overwhelming. And then you learn. Not by rushing. By practising. By paying attention. By making mistakes slowly enough to survive them.
The pleasure is not only in speed.
The pleasure is in awareness.
In anticipation.
In skill.
In moving through complexity without leaving damage behind you.
Equity is the same.
The point is not a frantic feeling of movement.
The point is better judgement. Clearer sight. Fewer collisions.
Who gets hit when we rush
Inequity is the default setting. If you do not change the system, the system changes people.
When practice is delivered at pace, the same children are harmed again and again.
Children on free school meals.
Black children.
Roma and Traveller children.
Children already living under the weight of adult fear, adult convenience, adult narratives.
Speed does not land evenly. It never has.
Because the children most likely to be misunderstood are also the children most likely to be processed quickly.
Fast punishment. Fast removal. Fast assumptions.
Fast stories that become permanent.
What we call efficiency, someone else experiences as erasure.
A question that should sting
So here is a question worth sitting with.
When we say we need to “move quickly”, who are we protecting from discomfort?
And who are we asking to absorb the impact?
If a driver hits someone at speed, we call it an accident.
But it is only an accident if you did everything you could to prevent it.
Otherwise it is something else. It is a choice. It is negligence. It is reckless driving.
Schools do not get to call harm an accident just because the calendar was full.
Slow is a strategy
This is not a romantic plea for stillness. The walkway is moving. Doing nothing is not an option.
This is a call to slow down in the right places so you can finally see what has been there all along.
Slow down the moment before the sanction.
Slow down the meeting where “that child” is discussed like a weather report.
Slow down the policy that feels tidy but keeps producing the same casualties.
Slow down long enough to notice the pattern, not just the behaviour.
Move with urgency, yes. But refuse the panic.
Because equity does not need more speed.
It needs more attention.
More courage.
More truth.
And truth, like hazard perception, cannot be rushed.

