If intersectionality teaches us anything, it is that lived experience is always shaped by multiple, overlapping identities. Faith, like disability, is not a standalone category; it intersects with race, gender, class, and culture, influencing how individuals navigate institutions and how those institutions respond in turn (Crenshaw, 1989).
Engaging with this week’s resources, I appreciated the richness of perspectives offered, particularly the nuanced exploration of racialised and gendered experiences within minority faith groups. In the Trinity University video Challenging Race, Religion, and Stereotypes in the Classroom, for example, students speak powerfully about being misjudged based on their appearance, especially when wearing religious clothing such as the hijab or yarmulke. These reflections highlight important dimensions of faith and embodiment. However, I also found myself reflecting on the notable absence of Christian perspectives in the discussion. This omission is striking in light of updated data from HESA (2023/24), which shows that Christianity remains the most widely declared religious affiliation among students in UK higher education (30%), doubling the next largest group, Islam (14%). And yet, Christian Catholic viewpoints – particularly those addressing modesty, embodiment, and moral reasoning, are often absent from conversations in secular creative spaces. This silence risks perpetuating a form of epistemic erasure, where some beliefs are rendered invisible or perceived as culturally regressive.
This table shows the breakdown of UK higher education student enrolments by religious belief from the 2019/20 to 2023/24 academic years (Higher Education Statistics Agency [HESA], 2024).
Catholic social thought offers a rich tradition of human dignity, care for the other, and responsibility in how we present ourselves in the world. Pope Benedict XVI, in Deus Caritas Est (2005), writes about the body not merely as a physical object but as a vessel of meaning, capable of communicating love, respect, and truth. From this standpoint, modesty is not repression but intentionality: a mindful expression of one’s values, not just a matter of aesthetic preference. This framing sits uncomfortably alongside a dominant ethos where the principle of “everything is accepted” is often celebrated as a marker of progress. Yet this idea, when unexamined, can produce tension. Are we genuinely fostering a shared environment or are we defaulting to a form of expressive individualism that inadvertently sidelines quieter, faith-based forms of expression? I recall a classroom experience that left me, as a person of faith, genuinely shocked and unprepared. A student arrived to a seminar wearing extremely short, ripped denim shorts and a sheer top through which her breasts were entirely visible. While no comments were made during the session, I later heard from several classmates who expressed discomfort and uncertainty about how to participate in the discussion. Their concerns were not about the student’s body, but about the context, and the implicit assumption that such levels of exposure were appropriate in a learning environment.
As an educator, I found myself reflecting not only on the moment but on how ill-equipped we often are to navigate such situations. In highly diverse classrooms, are we truly creating spaces where all students, including those of faith, feel able to be fully present? Or are we, by omission, creating environments where certain modes of expression are protected and others quietly marginalised?
Appiah’s Is Religion Good or Bad? explores how religious belief informs moral frameworks, yet avoids the tension that arises when religious values confront hyper-liberal interpretations of freedom. Similarly, Jawad (2022), in her study on Muslim women in sport, shows how modesty is often misread as regressive. Christian women, particularly those who choose modest dress as an act of faith, face similar scrutiny, often dismissed as outdated. Yet within Catholic teaching, modesty is understood not as regressive or outdated, but as a meaningful expression of dignity and self-possession. In Theology of the Body, Pope John Paul II (2006) reflects on the body as a site of truth capable of revealing the inner life of the person through intentional and respectful presentation. Modesty, in this light, is a way of affirming one’s worth and resisting objectification. It becomes not a denial of visibility, but a form of clarity, a refusal to be reduced to external perception and a quiet assertion of agency within shared cultural spaces.
Inclusion in higher education, particularly within creative fields, must move beyond surface-level visibility and account for the deeper complexities of shared space. Visibility for some can unintentionally result in the silencing or withdrawal of others. If one student feels empowered by revealing their body, while another feels unable to speak or be present in that same environment, we must ask whether our classrooms are truly inclusive or simply permissive in ways that favour dominant modes of expression. When does fashion shift from liberation to exclusion? Are we genuinely attentive to the needs of those whose beliefs call for modesty, reverence, or discretion? This is not a call for censorship, but an invitation to re-evaluate how we define respect within educational settings. While we rightly celebrate personal expression, we seldom interrogate its boundaries when it unfolds in shared, pluralistic spaces. When freedom of expression and freedom of conscience come into tension, what structures are in place to ensure that all students and staff – not just the most visible or outspoken – feel safe, dignified, and heard? Ignoring such tensions is not neutral; it shapes who feels they belong and who does not.
For many students and staff, faith remains a meaningful source of identity, purpose, and ethical grounding, just as others may be shaped by secular, humanist, or non-religious beliefs. True inclusivity is not about privileging one worldview over another, but about fostering a learning environment where a range of values and expressions can coexist respectfully. This includes making space for modesty as well as visibility, conviction as well as questioning. Inclusive education must be attentive to difference in its many forms, recognising that a genuine sense of belonging is not created through uniformity, but through mutual care and thoughtful dialogue. I’m still learning what this looks like in practice, but I keep asking myself: how can I, as an educator, better hold space for all students, including those whose beliefs, practices, or silences might otherwise go unnoticed?
References
Appiah, K. A. (2014). Is Religion Good or Bad? [Video]. TED.
Crenshaw, K. (1989). ‘Demarginalizing the intersection of race and sex’, University of Chicago Legal Forum, 1989(1), pp. 139–167.
Jawad, H. (2022). Islam, Women and Sport: The Case of Visible Muslim Women [Video].
Trinity University (2016). Challenging Race, Religion, and Stereotypes in the Classroom [Video].
Pope Benedict XVI (2005). Deus Caritas Est [Encyclical]. Vatican.va. Available at: https://www.vatican.va/content/benedict-xvi/en/encyclicals/documents/hf_ben-xvi_enc_20051225_deus-caritas-est.html
Higher Education Statistics Agency (HESA) (2024) Who’s in HE? Personal characteristics of students. Available at: https://www.hesa.ac.uk/data-and-analysis/students/whos-in-he#characteristics