“Make sure kids are heard” - an anti-bullying roundtable

I’ve spent the past year listening to the people of Blackpool South – in homes, in schools and in the community. Nowhere have the conversations felt more urgent or more humbling than in the room at my recent anti-bullying roundtable.

Last year, I attended an event held by Blackpool’s Poverty Truth Network, which shone a light on the extremes of bullying experienced by young people in Blackpool. I made a public commitment then – to bring together young people, educators, police, parents, and those with lived experience to work on solutions. Too often the same conversations happen in silos – and young people fall through the gaps.

In collaboration with the Poverty Truth Network, I hosted an event where teenagers who had experienced bullying, violence, discrimination and exclusion stood up and had their voices heard by the people in our town who have the power to make a difference. They told us what happens when adults look the other way and what it's like to suffer.

One of those young people was Shamir. Fourteen years old, with the kind of clarity and courage that would humble any adult in the room. He shared how, when his family moved to Blackpool in 2017, he entered a state school where his name, his culture, his ambitions, and even his family were mocked.

“They’d make fun of my name, my upbringing, the places I’d lived before, my goals for the future,” he told us. “All things that were out of my control and not something to be made fun of.”

His mother, a psychiatrist, recognised the toll it was taking on his mental health — the poor sleep, the loss of appetite, the academic decline. Despite her repeated appeals to the school and despite the efforts of individual teachers, nothing fundamentally changed. Eventually, she moved him to a private school.

It shouldn’t take a parent with clinical expertise, or the ability to move their child to a different system, to ensure a safe learning environment. But that was the reality for Shamir.

Then there was Elise, who bravely shared her story of how bullying followed her from primary school through to high school. “I was always a bigger girl,” she said. “And people saw it as a target – an easy way to bully someone. It made me come back into my shell.”

She spoke of how she went from being an outgoing child to someone who hated herself. She described how she developed anxiety, depression, and dropped down in school sets. “I was acting out with my behaviour, so I was punished by teachers – no one took the time to find out why. I was seen as the problem.”

The Poverty Truth Network documented the meeting in its Other Side of Blackpool Podcast. Listen below.

We also heard about the work already underway to change things. Police Constable Richard McKenna shared details about Ed-Pol, a promising new partnership between Lancashire Police and schools to improve safety and trust, not just through enforcement but through pastoral care. Kindness Counts, a local organisation, spoke passionately about their commitment to ensuring every school has the resources it needs to combat bullying. These pockets of work are fantastic – but we must look at the bigger picture.

Before the meeting, I’d asked Blackpool Council to share an anti-bullying charter that had been active before the pandemic. I put it in front of the room and have asked stakeholders to consider whether we should we revive it, revise it, or replace it altogether.

I was interested to hear from Andrew Speight, Blackpool South’s former Member of Youth Parliament, who shares my passion for mental health advocacy. Andrew has spearheaded the Emoco project, which seeks to embed a culture of wellbeing in schools, and he sits on the Education Policy Alliance Steering Group. Their recent publication, Everybody Thriving, draws directly from Andrew’s own journey through Blackpool’s education system. His story is a reminder that when we support young people, they don’t just survive – they lead.

The goal of the roundtable wasn’t just to share – it was to connect and create a network among those already doing good work and to amplify it. But it was also a listening exercise. At the end of the meeting, I asked the young people what they wanted from me as their MP.

Elise’s answer was clear: “Make sure kids are listened to. People don’t take them seriously. Teachers don’t take kids seriously because they have the level of authority over them. As a kid, I was opinionated, and if I knew I had done nothing wrong, I just wasn’t listened to. So if I’m not listened to in that instance, why would I think anyone would listen if I went to them about bullying?”

She’s absolutely right. Listening isn’t just hearing. It’s acting.

I’m taking these concerns – and these voices – with me to my work in Parliament. I have submitted two questions to the Secretary of State for Education, asking what assessment her department has made of the effectiveness of the initiatives in place to tackle bullying in schools and what steps her department is taking to support children experiencing mental health issues due to bullying.

I’m writing to all school heads across Blackpool to ensure they’re aware of the resources available, such as Ed-Pol and Kindness Counts. And I’ll continue convening conversations between students, schools, police, and policymakers – because no single institution can solve this alone.

We owe it to every young person in Blackpool who has ever been a victim of bullying to do better.