'Why Britishness brings us stability and security in these dangerous times' - West Midland academic Roshan Doug

And then Monday morning arrived, as it always does. Pupils and students filing into British classrooms and lecture halls as if the world hadn’t just tilted slightly on its axis. But it had.

If you’ve worked in education as long as I have, you know that a global conflict doesn’t stay ‘over there.’ It turns up in debates. It sits quietly in the eyes of a student whose grandparents live in Tehran or Dubai. It shows up in tense conversations, in parks and at bus stops. World events have a funny way of squeezing themselves into very ordinary British corridors.

That’s why I bang on – probably too often – about home and belonging.

Now I genuinely believe we need to curtail immigration. I know that’s not fashionable in some circles, but I think it’s common sense. A country can’t absorb endless numbers without stretching schools, housing, healthcare and, crucially, its sense of shared identity. If we want integration to work, numbers have to be manageable. Otherwise we’re kidding ourselves. But – and this matters – once families are here, once children are sitting in front of us in double maths on a damp Tuesday, the conversation changes completely.

Now it’s about belonging. Not in a preachy, laminated ‘British values’ poster sort of way. But in a lived, human way. In the way we talk about Parliament and why arguing is preferable to fighting. In the way we explain that in this country you can criticise the government without disappearing. In the way we teach boys and girls they stand equal before the law.

When war flares up in the Middle East, identity can wobble for kids with roots there. Who am I? Where do I stand? What do I defend? That’s a heavy question for a teenager who’s also worrying about mock exams and whether their trainers will get a stamp of approval from his peers.

This is where adopting a British cultural identity becomes grounding rather than threatening. I’m not talking about wiping out heritage. Keep the language. Keep the food. Keep the stories and the festivals. Be proudly Iranian or Israeli or Iraqi at home. But in public life – in civic life – there has to be a shared framework. A sense that this country isn’t just a place you live, but a place you’ve invested in. Let’s encourage those youngsters to offer something to this our country – and their country.

And we shouldn’t be embarrassed about Britishness. Honestly, that’s half the problem. We whisper about it as if it’s something awkward. Yet what is it, at its core? Queuing without chaos. Law over revenge. Debate over drones. Gradual reform rather than violent upheaval.

In a weekend when missiles are flying elsewhere, that feels worth holding onto. To me Britishness is something easily recognisable – something unique to us. Language is a huge part of it. I’ve seen children light up once they really ‘get’ English – not just grammar, but sarcasm, humour, cultural references. Suddenly they’re in on the joke. They’re not hovering at the edge anymore. They belong to that shared something undefinable.

What worries me isn’t diversity. It’s drift. Communities living side by side but emotionally elsewhere. If immigration runs too fast and integration runs too slow, we create fault lines. Then every overseas conflict risks echoing here.

Curtailing immigration and strengthening belonging aren’t opposites. They’re partners. Control the pace. Deepen the roots.

After last weekend’s headlines, I found myself thinking about the children who walked into school on Monday carrying silent questions. Our job – not just the teachers’ – is to help them feel steady. To say, quietly but confidently: whatever storms rage elsewhere, you have a stake here. This is home.

And home isn’t accidental. It’s built. And if we build it properly, those children won’t feel caught between worlds – they’ll feel anchored in our place, in our culture.

Roshan Doug is an educationalist from the West Midlands and a former Birmingham Poet Laureate.