42 C O N T E X T 1 7 3 : S E P T E M B E R 2 0 2 2 teacher talks only about the Great Irish Famine to represent my Irish identity. It may seem an impossible task to adequately reflect all the identities in a class, but practice offers some comfort, as it seems that being more inclusive of certain groups creates the space for others to be feel that they too are eligible to be part of the conversation. Developing an inclusive pedagogy is fun but full of challenges. Every year some students are diagnosed with a learning divergence during their postgrad studies. This year 50 per cent of my postgraduate students were known to me as learning divergent. Some start off with learning support statements, and some differences such as dyslexia are picked up with the first written assignment. Others, such as autism and ADHD, are harder to spot; with these latter, students usually self-diagnose with follow-on professional assessment and diagnosis provided by the university. Notably, a learning divergence does not inhibit a student from attaining top marks in a cohort. In a recent class discussion, arising from the Society of Architectural Historians of Great Britain’s identifying a broad range of inclusivity themes in new academic work, including learning divergence, an opinion was voiced that there was 100 per cent learning divergence in the class. If 50–100 per cent of people are learning divergent, does divergence dissolve into normality? And if we cater for all together, are we catering for all sufficiently? Or equally? It is not much of a leap to suggest that this has implications for the conservation industry, and reinforces the urgency to expand the range of ways in which we interpret heritage and engage with people. No two people are the same, no two people learn in the same way. We are all gloriously diverse. Un(shared) heritage I have found the concept of ‘un(shared) heritage’ useful in exploring diversity and inclusivity. This goes beyond contested heritage and guilty architecture, of which we have a multiplicity of material to discuss at the moment, from statues to graffiti, to what to do with buildings of the Nazi regime, to how to record or rebuild places after wars. The ‘unshared’ part recognises that we have different cultures and backgrounds, that some heritage belongs to only one group, or has certain significances for one group; it can be communicated to other groups but may never be shared by them, emotionally or intellectually. The tradition of the elaborate graves of some traveller groups is a good way of starting this discussion. The concept was devised in response to the shared heritage mantra, which I find repressive of difference and therefore of dialogue. But this may depend on where you stand on the value of identity politics. The student cohort at Birmingham City University (BCU) is composed of 52 per cent BAME (black Asian and minority ethnic) students at undergrad level. This is a term I hate, being so broad as to be meaningless: the equivalent for me could be an ‘Atlantic seaboard native’. However, it seemed to be of some use in gathering and assessing statistics to show differential rates of attrition, award and progression among students. In March 2021 the Commission on Race and Ethnic Disparities recommended that the government stop using the term because it emphasises certain ethnic minority groups and excludes others (mixed, other, and white ethnic groups), and the term masks disparities between different ethnic groups. The RIBA (Royal Institute of British Architects) in its EDI (Equality Diversity Inclusion) Strategy (2019) acknowledged that many groups of people were under-represented in the profession. The image of the architect in our culture as a rich white male is persistent, which means that those of a lower socio-economic background, an ethnic minority background, or female, have to be, or perceive they have to be, stars to be successful. From the outside therefore the profession is seen as not accessible to many, and the length of time it takes to go through Parts 1, 2 and 3 to fully qualify, certainly push the later years beyond many. Other professions such as law, accountancy and medicine have much less discrepancy. As conservation is based in the school of architecture and design in BCU and I teach across the school, I encounter the difference in prospects between students – not only regarding jobs, but in interviews, placements, internships and so on. From a recent survey we know that many students do not know any working architects or conservation professionals, do not have informal mentors, and do not have a network to arrange placements or work experience. Conversations with conservation’s visiting professor Anna Keay, from the Landmark Trust, led to a pilot programme to try to redress some of these inequalities. This is a professional mentorship programme, which is not as onerous as a placement or internship, but which offers the framework of professional dialogue, focused on a real, live project. With the Landmark Trust the project was to assess a site in the early stages of consideration for development as a holiday cottage. Students are exposed to the works of conservation, the issues that need to be considered and questions of philosophy and viability. Contacts are made and subjects gained for presentation at interview with potential employers.
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