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It was the start of the school day and 15-year-old Maria was on the verge of tears as she faced being sent home for threaded fake eyelashes. “But sir, nobody will notice,” she pleaded.

“No ifs, no buts, you will have them removed this afternoon or you will be excluded tomorrow,” came the reply.

It sounded like the kind of old-fashioned enforcement you might find at any disciplinarian inner-city school, but what made this exchange notable was that it took place at Dunraven in Lambeth, a school reputed for a progressive approach that has made it arguably the most inclusive in London.

Permanent exclusions in England have soared by 70 per cent since 2012-13, but not one of Dunraven’s 1,744 pupils have been permanently excluded in the past four years.

Last year they had just 14 fixed term exclusions (temporary suspensions), far below the 174 that would equate to the 10 per cent national average.

So how does Dunraven — a school with nearly half its students living in poverty — manage to be both a strict and non-excluding school?

Headteacher David Boyle said: “When I became head in 2004, Dunraven was one of the highest excluders in London with 510 fixed term exclusions and five permanent exclusions that year.

"My aim was to combine a strong behaviour code and reduce permanent exclusions to zero, but some children were so disruptive they needed to be removed from class for the sake of others.”

The game changer came in 2012 when Boyle created a separate on-site inclusion unit called the Base that would provide tuition for children at risk of permanent exclusion, with the aim of supporting rather than punishing them, and then reintegrating them back into the mainstream school.

Last year 60 students used the Base with varying degrees of intensity and 100 per cent were successfully reintegrated back into mainstream schooling.

It’s an impressive track record which begs the question: why isn’t the Department for Education heading over to the Base to see how it works?

On the morning the Standard arrived, two pupils, 15-year-old Isabel and Peter, 16, (not their real names) sat at a round table in a colourful room decorated with beanbags and affirmations, and tackled worksheets on their GCSE English setwork Dr Jekyll And Mr Hyde.

Isabel, a former straight-A student, said: “I am in the Base because I have intermittent explosive disorder, known as IED. I have had 17 fights and broken people’s noses. If a kid gave me a dirty look or was rude, I would punch them in the face and keep going until someone pulled me off.”

After five fixed term exclusions at another Lambeth high school, Isabel faced permanent exclusion to a PRU. But the Base — which accepts a limited number of managed moves from pupils at other schools — offered her a trial and a fresh start.

How has she fared? Maxine Clarke, a history teacher who runs the unit with warmth and passion, said: “Isabel has not had one fight or even one significant incident since she arrived 11 months ago.

"Her record was horrendous, but in person she is delightful and with the right support she has shown a capacity to change.

"Now she is on track to do well in GCSEs and I believe she will be a successful young lady.” Isabel added: “I feel calm here. If anything bothers me, I talk to Miss.”

Isabel has also been getting therapy and insight into IED, said to be commonly caused by growing up in families where explosive behaviour and abuse is common.

“My dad left the family a year ago,” she said. “He had IED and got violently angry for the smallest thing, like dirty dishes.

"He is not allowed to see me on his own because once, when he was drunk, I gave him lip and he started punching me and demolished my room.

"I had blood clots in my legs from him kicking me and had to go to hospital.”

Isabel spoke with remarkable composure. “I was told I needed medication to control my anger but I am glad I never took it. I have learned I have the power to control myself.”

In the case of Peter, he was sent to the Base over two years ago for being disengaged in class. “I would get bored, put my head down on the desk and go to sleep and drive teachers mad,” he said. “When they made me sit up, I became extremely disruptive.”

Tumaini Joseph, assistant to Miss Clarke, said: “Often Peter arrives at the Base and needs a nap on the beanbag and then he is ready to work and engages well.

"That’s what the Base can offer — a more forgiving response that mainstream cannot. His behaviour has improved hugely.”

Peter said: “I have developed insight and understand what I do affects others. Before I only saw my point of view.”

During lunch, a younger cohort arrived. Over sandwiches and bananas, Dean, 12 and Ryan, 13, discussed their passion for snakes with Kevin, 15. “I come here because I’m sensitive to noise and this place is calm,” said Kevin.

Miss Clarke made tea and asked about their day. “For some I am like a second mum,” she said. “We operate an asset-based model rather than a deficit model, looking for their strengths and what they do right and building on it.”

For Louisa Coward, whose son Raymond Tavener, 19, faced being sent to a PRU for fighting, the Base was “a God-send”. “Raymond was on the verge of permanent exclusion when he was sent to the Base,” she said. “I was desperate. My nephews went to a PRU and I saw how children there have lost hope. Raymond was turning up late, smoking, but he wouldn’t listen to me. It was Miss Clarke who saw his potential and changed him. He passed his GCSEs and has just got his plumbing qualifications.”

The Base costs Dunraven £75,000 a year, amounting to £1,250 per child across the 60 beneficiaries.

With 40 per cent of Base students passing English and Maths GCSEs last year, it represents superb value for money, especially when compared with the £18,000 cost per child at a PRU and the 4 per cent who pass GCSE English and Maths.

Yet neither the Government nor Ofsted give Dunraven any special incentive for pursuing their inclusion agenda. “We get no extra cash at all and have to fund it out of our existing £12 million budget,” said Boyle.

“Cuts have made it increasingly hard to protect our inclusions budget, but we guard it because we believe no child should be left behind. We are talking about life chances.

“The Government need to stop the lip service — it is time to value inclusiveness and to fund it.”