I have been aware of pockets of right-wing extremism in my local area since I was a student. The sixth-form college I attended had a swastika daubed on one of the round windows that looked into the canteen area and I heard, through friends, of incidents such as that at a local school where a female, Muslim teacher had been repeatedly followed home by a group of young, white men. “We know where you live,” a student had casually remarked to her in lesson, the threat implicit but very real.

Now, as a teacher, I am more aware of events such as the annual organised marches by right-wing groups through our town centres. Only a few months ago, an indignant sixth-form student at my current school informed me about an application by an established right-wing group to hold a rally at a local concert venue. I have even discovered that a cell of the Ku Klux Klan apparently now operates within a few miles’ radius of our school.

Inevitably, those views are present among some of the students in my school. And it has been reported that Prevent does not equip teachers to tackle this - that it is only concerned with Islamic extremism. In my experience, that is simply not true.

Young and impressionable

Is it any surprise that, enveloped in the growing rhetoric of right-wing extremism, some of our young and impressionable students may begin to parrot what they hear and act on the calls to action?

Those of us teaching in communities that lack diversity, and that have been negatively impacted by the government’s austerity measures, have noted how some students are turning their disaffection and anger towards what they perceive as an identifiable source.

In the days following the Brexit vote, many of us were confronted with views that we personally found to be extreme, such as the student who stated, “We voted leave so we can send them home”.

Few students would consider themselves racist (there is a still a collective gasp at the use of the “N” word in Of Mice and Men) or xenophobic, but these same students will frequently homogenise people with backgrounds different to their own as “them” or “those” - the “other”.

Such intolerance of people from other cultures could be viewed as meeting the government’s definition of extremism as defined by Prevent: “vocal or active opposition to fundamental British values, including democracy, the rule of law, individual liberty and mutual respect and tolerance of different faiths and beliefs”.

Some schools do apply the duty to these cases. Rashad Ali, resident senior fellow at the thinktank the Institute for Strategic Dialogue told The Guardian in July that “in some places, almost the majority of referrals [to Prevent] that have been coming in over the last six months - almost 50 per cent of referrals in Midlands and more than 50 per cent in Wales - are actually far-right extremism cases”.

But how far does this reflect the reality of incidents in schools? As strongly as we may disagree with the intolerance of the views above, it is unlikely that many of us would see such views alone as grounds for referral under Prevent. There is less a fear, and more a depressing predictability - inevitability, even - about these views. There is almost an acceptance that the kids will think this way. We are less on guard, as a society, against right-wing extremism.

Many of these students will simply parrot what their families or friends have told them without interrogating the information. One primary teacher tells me that when she explained how little some of the immigrants to the UK were paid for work in their own country and the conditions in which they live, students who were previously “extreme” in their view against immigration were suddenly arguing for immigration. As she says: “These views were not deeply held, they were surface opinions that, when challenged with information, were easily addressed.”

This is where Prevent training should step in. It should empower us to stand up to all extremist views, regardless of “type”. And it should guide us about how to tackle those abhorrent views and to ensure we know when and why we should take things further and make a report.

Does it do that? In my experience, it does this a lot better than has been reported.

In my school, the elements delivered by our own senior leader in charge of safeguarding were tailored to our context. As a staff, we felt informed and better prepared to deal with issues that we encounter far too often.

Vital platform

The training provided a vital platform for discussing issues that many teachers find sensitive and uncomfortable to raise without an excuse to do so.

Dedicated time to reflect on the challenges faced in the classroom was essential for equipping teachers with the confidence to tackle xenophobic and racist attitudes, which could go on to be exploited by those who peddle extremist ideologies outside of the classroom.

Is it the best it can be? Of course not. If reports of experiences elsewhere with the training are true, particularly where there was a single-track focus on Islamic extremism, then obviously that needs to be tackled. The standard needs to be consistent in every school if Prevent is to work.

And we also need to help develop Prevent so that it is a better fit for our schools and our context. This is not something that should be done to us, it should be something that we have a large part in moulding.

But I do think Prevent, with these changes, has a role to play. Teachers are good at building bridges, of finding common ground and uniting disparate groups. Outside the safety of the school gates there may be dark clouds gathering, but inside our classrooms we create the weather. As such, we have a vital role to play in tackling extremism.

The writer is a teacher in the North of England and wishes to remain anonymous