The traumatic loss of my husband during the first Covid lockdown opened my eyes to the imbalance in schools’ ability to support grieving children. Childhood Bereavement UK estimates one in 29 children has lost a parent or sibling. That’s roughly one child in every classroom. Yet support is inconsistent, dependent on individual staff confidence, local priorities or whether a school happens to have a trained lead. I had to repeat year after year the trauma that my child faced regarding specific dates or subject matters. I sometimes had to console teachers overwhelmed by only having heard the news years after my husband’s death. I have spoken to others who say they’ve faced outdated understanding of how children process grief – some of them as young as 6. And even post-pandemic, many schools do not have a bereavement policy, nor do they have training on even basic fundamentals such as misusing ambiguous or triggering language with children. Bereavement passport As a widowed parent and teacher, I believe a statutory bereavement policy in schools, supported by a pupil bereavement passport, should not be a bureaucratic luxury. It is the structural compassion children deserve. speaks to a truth professionals across education, health and safeguarding have known for years. Grief does not end after the funeral, yet the systems around children often behave as if it does. The absence of a statutory requirement means bereavement support is treated as optional, despite the evidence that unresolved grief is anything but. Children who experience a significant bereavement are six times more likely to develop later mental health difficulties. Safeguarding teams note that unaddressed grief is a common thread in cases involving emotional dysregulation, school refusal, self‑harm and family breakdown. And a 2023 review found young people who received no structured bereavement support were twice as likely to require targeted or specialist intervention within five years. These are not abstract numbers. They represent children who could have been supported earlier, more consistently and more compassionately. Bereaved children need continuity, not crisis‑only care. When a child loses a sibling or caregiver, they may receive a short burst of attention. A few check‑ins, a referral, perhaps a conversation with a pastoral lead. But by month three, the world has usually “moved on”. The child has not. Since retraining as a teacher and committing to bereavement research during my own grief journey, I have instigated conversation-based training within my own school. I have also generated a pupil bereavement passport, combining my experience as a teacher and widowed parent by creating a free working document that can travel with a pupil through their education to support families and staff. The passport is a simple but transformative tool. It ensures that every transition – new teacher, new year group, new school – comes with continuity of understanding. Key information It records key information about the loss, cultural or religious considerations, information on what helps the child cope, what triggers distress, which services have been involved and what support has already been offered. This prevents a cycle of children having to re-tell their story to every new adult. It also ensures staff are not left guessing or relying on fragmented handovers. I believe that embedding a statutory policy and maintaining these passports could have measurable benefits across sectors. In education, it could improve attendance, reduce behavioural escalation and enable more stable engagement with learning. In the NHS it could reduce crisis referrals and reduce pressure on mental health services. In other words, early, structured support reduces the need for intensive intervention later. A statutory policy is not red tape. Schools already hold statutory duties for attendance, safeguarding, SEND and mental health. Bereavement, one of the most significant adverse childhood experiences, should not be the exception. Such a policy would guarantee minimum standards of care, ensure staff receive grief‑informed training, require named bereavement leads, embed clear procedures for communication and record‑keeping and protect children from being overlooked simply because their grief is quiet rather than disruptive. The petition is not asking for something radical. It is asking for something responsible, compassionate, and overdue: a system that recognises grief as a long-term journey, not a short-term event.