Addressing dissonance: Katy's pathway to becoming an Educational Psychologist
Hi everyone and welcome to the next edition of the Pathways to Psychology blog.
Today we hear from Katy Aazem, Trainee Educational Psychologist. Katy shares her passion for
supporting people despite inherent bias and limitations in the systems set up to provide care and support.
Happy reading!
Katy Aazem
My Path to Educational Psychology
Hiya! I'm Katy, and I'm a third-year Trainee Educational Psychologist (TEP) at the Tavistock and
Portman North London NHS Foundation Trust. My route here has been rather wobbly, and that ok. If
you're an aspiring psychologist or a fellow trainee, feel free to keep on reading (especially if you've ever
felt like you don't quite fit the mould!).
Going Right Back to the Start
My journey started way before I knew what an Educational Psychologist (EP) was. I was about 14-
years old, a Cub Scout volunteer, and it was there that I learned that with the right support, children
and young people can achieve great things. I noticed that so many of the children in the group had
additional needs, from experiencing sensory overwhelm, anxiety, low confidence, but the
environment just wasn't set up for them. From that moment, I knew wanted to have a job where I
would be listening to people’s stories. Where I could use knowledge to understand or explain why
someone’s experience was what it was. I was so interested by how complex it is to be human, how
our histories, relationships, families, environments, and brains all shape who we are and how we
move through the world. And I wanted to use that to support people and make positive change.
At university during my undergraduate psychology degree, I spent time as a listening support
volunteer, a welfare officer, and a camp counsellor. Each role taught me something different about
children, young people, and the systems around them. I learnt about advocacy and the importance
of connection. These roles weren't stepping stones to the EP role in any obvious way and at the time,
they just felt like things I cared about doing. But looking back, they were the places where I started to
figure out what I valued and what I wanted to do in the future. When I eventually found Educational
Psychology, it felt like the pieces finally came together.
The Forensic Detour
I can't remember ever being told that Educational Psychology existed as a career. I was sure I was
going to go down the Forensic Psychology route. I watched a Louis Theroux documentary called "By
Reason of Insanity," and I noticed that behaviour is shaped by so many factors beyond individual’s
control, such as societal pressures, poverty, being unable to participate in education, being victims of
abuse themselves, trauma, unmet special educational needs, racism, mental health difficulties, lack
of support, systemic failures.
It made me think about how we (as a society) respond to harm. Do we punish and exclude, or do we
try to understand and support? During my Masters, I worked in adult prisons. Having conversations with
incarcerated individuals added to my frustrations with the Prison Industrial Complex (aka the criminal
justice system) and led to a shift in my career. I noticed that many of the incarcerated experienced
disrupted education, had special educational needs, were vulnerable, and experienced deprivation and
disadvantage. I was (and still am) frustrated with our Prison Industrial Complex. By the time someone
ends up in prison, it's too late. We're responding to harm, not preventing it. And I thought this isn’t me, I
want to work somewhere that values early identification, prevention, being an agent of change.
Searching for the Right Fit
I pivoted to finding assistant psychology jobs working with children and young people, but I wasn't
sure where or how to find this outside of secure mental health or NHS settings. I stumbled across a
private Educational Psychologist company advertising for APs. I applied, got the role, but I still wasn't
convinced. Something was missing. The equity piece wasn't there. The families who most needed
support often didn’t access it, and EP support was hidden behind a very expensive price. I wanted to
work in a context where I could reach the children and families who were being failed by systems,
not just those who could afford private assessments.
I became an Assistant Educational Psychologist (AsEP) in a London borough, and that's where things
really came together. Over the year, I directly impacted the opportunities for children and young
people, their families, and communities by shifting perspectives and creating positive outcomes.
What I saw was how EPs are uniquely placed at the intersection of children, families, and
communities for early intervention and prevention, but also to work systemically to upskill and
support those around them. That's what convinced me to apply for the trainee Educational
Psychologist professional doctorate (look at the AEP’s Educational Psychology Funded Training
scheme for more info!)
Cut to Now (Year 3 of the Doctorate!)
So, I started the doctorate at the Tavistock. And honestly? It's been enlightening, transforming,
liberatory and so many more words that describe this shifting into a version of myself and my
practice that feels more aligned. It was during the course that I properly learnt about decolonising and
actively anti-oppressive and anti-racist psychology practice. I found abolitionism through a Tavistock
alumna, Christie Ghent, and was inspired. The more I read, the more I found sprinkles of this thinking in
my earlier thoughts and job experiences, moments where I felt a dissonance I couldn’t quite name at the
time. But now, I know what this means.
I am an abolition feminist. I always was a feminist, but abolition feminism gave me the tools to
understand why systems harm, why reform isn’t enough, and what it means to build something else
entirely. Abolition feminism extends beyond carceral abolition to challenge the interconnected systems of
oppression that brutalise and control, reaching into health, welfare and education. Educational
Psychology sists within this. Our knowledge, tools, and practice have historically (and presently) sort,
classify, exclude, and pathologise children. Working within the education and NHS health system has
led me to sit with many uncomfortable truths. The psychology profession's history is entangled with
eugenic thinking, intelligence testing, and colonial projects that sorted and ranked populations by
white, Western, middle-class (WEIRD) norms. Today's cognitive assessments carry this. Presented as
neutral, these cognitive assessments continue to sort children into categories with lifelong
consequences. This is not to say that EPs are acting with harmful intent, but it’s important to
recognise how historical practice and current contexts uphold oppressive systems.
And yet, abolition is possible within these same moments. EPs already engage in practices that refuse
carceral logics. The task is to name these practices, learn from them, and strengthen those conditions for
possibility. I've been thinking a lot about what this means across our core areas of practice (consultations,
assessments, interventions, training and research) and already have a few ideas, but that’s a story for
another time!
Holding the Discomfort
Working within systems built upon interlocking oppressions (patriarchy, capitalism, racism, ableism,
homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia, to name a few) creates inevitable tension between our
ethics and institutional demands. Abolition feminist practice tells us that this discomfort needs our
attention. It's not to be resolved or ignored, but to be held, sat with, and collectively navigated.
