big update

August 2026

It's been a while since our last update. A lot has happened.

The Academy was recognised at the Stars of Children & Young People Awards in May.

We've added new courses to the Academy, new apps and got more in development.

We're also creating a new pathway of courses specifically for prospective and new foster parents and kinship carers, called 'Introduction to Fostering'. Courses are available now and we'll keep adding more as we launch them.

Our website and learning portal are going through a big redesign, which will mean a great experience for learners and lots of new functionality for fostering services.

Read on to find out more.

15 New Courses

Sneak Peek

Here's an early preview of our new website and learning portal.

We've added a few more features since making this video. We'll continue to refine it up until launch.

When we launch, you'll receive a new email from us asking you to set up a password for the new portal.

Write your awesome label here.

new ai tutor built into every course

AI Tutor

When we launch our new portal, you'll be able to access our AI Tutor, Pearl, in every course.

If you want to find out more about something in the course, ask her about it. If something doesn't quite make sense, she'll break it down for you. If the scenarios are too easy for you, ask Pearl to quiz you.

No matter what your level of experience is, Pearl will tailor your learning experience to you.

Write your awesome label here.

The Grounding gardens

The Grounding Garden is a collection of 70 digital, beautifully illustrated and narrated conversation cards that help adults create moments of connection with children through imagination, curiosity and play.

Rather than asking direct questions, each card unlocks gentle conversations, storytelling and shared adventures that help children express themselves in a way that feels safe, natural and fun.

Each card has guidance for adults who are supporting children who've experienced trauma.

Every card is brought to life by a choice of male and female narrators, giving each adventure a distinct personality and making the experience feel immersive, magical and memorable.

We will be giving everyone the app for free when it launches in September.

Select the play icon to take a look

new associates

Welcome Dan & Sarah

Dan and his husband foster for a Southwest Local Authority and have been fostering for over 8 years. They are also Special Guardians to two siblings they previously fostered. Dan’s fostering experience gave him opportunities in Independent Fostering Panel work which opens his eyes to the varied different ways that services work in across the country.

As part of Dan’s Panel work, he realised that there was a significant gap in the Southwest where Foster Parents and others who are supporting vulnerable children just weren’t always being adequately supported. This fuelled a fire in his belly and in 2024 Dan founded a not-for-profit Community Interest Company that aims to help close that gap. The venture expanded into launching its own Independent Fostering service in October 2025.

Dan has a growing passion for use of language, after all we talk about therapeutic approaches benefitting children, though Dan is a firm believer that some of these approaches particularly around language also benefit us as adults.

Dan is also a Chair of Governors for a trust school as well as being involved in other voluntary roles that are around supporting vulnerable young people in the Southwest.

Dan is a huge supporter of what The Pink Pearl Academy is doing, it brings a modern day perspective on Fostering Training & Support, and Dan is exceptionally passionate about people who do foster (like Sebastian and his husband) in the modern day, being the driving force behind such services.

Sarah brings 17 years of experience in fostering, with a particular focus on the recruitment and assessment of mainstream and kinship foster carers. As Team Manager for the Assessment and Recruitment Team at Hull Fostering, she leads on supporting prospective carers through the early stages of their journey, helping families feel prepared for the realities of welcoming children into their homes.

With a background in youth and community work, Sarah’s practice is grounded in building relationships, understanding family dynamics, and creating space for honest reflection. She has a strong interest in the experiences of birth children within fostering households and is passionate about supporting the whole family system to feel confident, connected, and emotionally prepared.

Alongside her professional role, Sarah is developing creative, therapeutic resources focused on supporting the children of foster carers, a group whose experiences are often less visible within fostering. Her work aims to create space for these children to explore their thoughts, feelings, and experiences, helping them to feel seen, understood, and emotionally prepared as part of the fostering journey. She is particularly interested in how supporting the whole family can strengthen relationships, build resilience, and create more stable and positive fostering experiences for everyone involved.

As a parent of two neurodiverse teenagers, Sarah also brings personal insight into the strengths and challenges of family life, which further informs her compassionate and practical approach.

At the heart of Sarah’s work is a belief that when carers and their families feel understood, supported, and emotionally equipped, they are better able to provide the stability and care that children need to thrive.

Subscribe Monthly - £5 / Month

Access to our courses
Access to our Knowledge Hub
Access to our Companion Apps
Access to 'Ask Pearl'; our AI Parenting Companion app. She has been trained on the Academy’s courses, Knowledge Hub, and trusted safeguarding and parenting guidance.
Access to monthly social events
Downloadable certificate to demonstrate Continuous Professional Development (CPD)

Starter Plan

£599 / year

All current and future courses
Guided Pathways - Practical routes for tricky moments
Access to our Knowledge Hub
Access to our Companion apps
Access to 'Pearl', our AI companion who has been trained on our Academy's content
Downloadable certificate to demonstrate CPD
Each course mapped to National Minimum Standards and TSDs
Quarterly report of course completions
Access to our monthly social events

Plus Plan

£1,999 / year

Everything in the Starter Plan, plus
Monthly instead of quarterly report
Custom landing page with your logo. Do you want your parents and carers to see a different message to your social workers or connected carers? We can offer that
Onboarding Teams call demonstrating the Academy. Invite your team, parents and carers

Pro Plan

£3,499 / year

Our courses are tailored for kinship parents and carers, many with scenarios that change to reflect their family situation
Bi-annual virtual listening session to understand themes from carers
Bi-annual virtual strategic development conversation
Priority roadmap input (you vote on what's next)

School Plan

£599 / year

Although the Academy has been designed for fostering services, our trauma-informed content is perfect for developing school staff.

You will have access to all of the Academy, along with a custom landing page with your logo on it.

At this lower price, we won't offer onboarding calls or reporting.

The Academy, under the company name 'Pink Pearl Consulting Limited' has achieved the government-backed Cyber Essentials Certification.

Children in foster care don’t usually lie in the way adults think of lying – not with the cold calculation of a fraudster in a Netflix documentary. More often it’s a kind of survival tactic, almost automatic. Trauma specialists even talk about it as a “fourth F.” You’ve heard of fight, flight, freeze… well, lying becomes another option. Not to get one over on you, but to dodge the sting of shame, or the dread of being punished, or simply the awful feeling of being powerless.

That’s where the Curiosity Lens comes in. Imagine putting on a pair of invisible glasses or holding up a magnifying glass. Instead of seeing the fib at face value, you start to see what’s underneath it – the fear of rejection, the nervous energy, the shame the child doesn’t know how to name. With PACE in mind – curiosity and acceptance especially – you suspend the moral outrage, the urge to shout “just tell me the truth,” and you lean in gently instead.

It’s not about catching them out. It’s about keeping the conversation alive. As one parenting guide wisely put it: stay exploratory, keep wondering aloud. If you shame them, they’ll close the door. If you stay curious, they might just leave it ajar.

And when you respond with genuine interest – “I wonder what made it hard to tell me…” – you send a message that’s bigger than any single lie: I’m not here to trap you, or humiliate you. I’m here to understand you. That, over time, is how trust grows. They learn you’ll meet their honesty with compassion, not punishment. And that changes everything.

“Hmm, that’s an interesting story you’ve told me. I wonder if maybe it feels safer to say that than what really happened? If you’re worried about getting in trouble, you don’t have to be – you are safe with me. Whatever happened, we can sort it out together. Can you help me understand what’s going on?”

(This phrasing invites the child to explain, without outright accusing them of lying. It uses "I wonder" instead of "You’re lying", signalling curiosity. You might even playfully put on “magic truth glasses” with your fingers, if age-appropriate, to lighten the moment and show the child they’re not angry.)

Many children in care carry a kind of hidden script in their heads. It says: I am bad. It’s my fault. They don’t usually say it out loud, but it’s there, humming away. It comes from years of early hurt, of being rejected again and again. Some even learn that if they show real feelings – sadness, anger, longing – it might lead to punishment, or worse, abandonment. So they tuck those feelings away, and the shame festers.

This is where the Acceptance Shield comes in. It’s less superhero cape, more everyday armour. You hold it up, deliberately and consistently, to protect the child from those shame-arrows. It means making a very clear distinction: I don’t always like your behaviour, but I always accept you.

In PACE terms, it’s acceptance and empathy working in tandem. You meet the child’s feelings as they are, even the messy ones. You empathise with the shame they’re drowning in. And practically, it means tempering your own response. No harsh telling-off. No thunderous disappointment. Instead: “You’re not a bad kid. I get why this happened. And I still care about you.”

Because here’s the thing: children watch closely for whether their inner world is safe with you. If you counter their self-criticism – “I’m stupid, I’m bad” – with calm, believable truths – “You’re good, you’re worthy” – you’re teaching them a new script. One where they’re not discarded for messing up. One where they’re covered.

And when you hold that shield day after day, the child starts to believe it. Their sense of self stitches back together. They start to grow resilience against shame and rejection. And in that, the bond between you becomes their secure base – something solid, at last, in a life that’s often felt shaky.

“I know you feel really bad about this. It’s okay – we all make mistakes, but I want you to hear this: I’m not angry and I’m not leaving. I love you no matter what. Nothing will change that. Let’s figure out how to make it right together when you’re ready.”

(This script explicitly assures the child of your enduring acceptance. Phrases like “no matter what” and “nothing will change that” directly address fear of rejection. You might literally open your arms like a shield or put an arm around the child if appropriate, to physically reinforce the feeling of protection and safety.)

Defiance in children can feel like a brick wall. They cross their arms, scowl, and say “No!” with the kind of finality usually reserved for magistrates. And you feel that surge of frustration rising – the urge to push back harder. But there’s another option.

The Playful Pause is about puncturing that tense balloon with a bit of silliness. A ridiculous face. A pretend dragon lurking in the room. A mock-serious “emergency” about socks refusing to cooperate. It sounds daft, and in a way it is. But daftness is often what works.

The magic of playfulness is that it pauses the power struggle. It shifts the dynamic from “me against you” to “me with you.” For a younger child, it might be full-on theatrics. For a teenager, maybe a raised eyebrow and a wry, self-deprecating joke. Either way, it says: I’m not your enemy. We can reset this together.

It doesn’t mean ignoring the behaviour. It just means you’re smart enough to know that humour can sneak past defences that sternness never will. And once you’ve both laughed, even a little, the wall crumbles. Suddenly there’s room to carry on. Together.

In a mock-serious narrator voice: “Oh no... the Defiance Dragon has entered the room! It’s making us both all grumpy. Quick, I have an idea – I’ll make a funny face to scare it off… 😜 See, the dragon is laughing! Can you give it a try? [Child pulls a face] Hooray, we scared it away together!” (Both laugh, tension breaks) “Alright, shall we give (the task) another go now?”

In this playful script, you create a tiny imaginative game (“Defiance Dragon”) to externalise the child’s defiance as something we can team up against playfully. The exact script can vary widely by age (for a teenager, humour might be more understated, like you suddenly doing a goofy dance and saying “Ugh, what a morning – shall we hit reset and start over?” with a grin). The essence is to surprise the child out of the stuck position with levity. Your willingness to be a bit silly shows the child it’s safe to drop their guard. Once the child smiles or giggles, even briefly, the emotional climate shifts – we (you and the child) are connected again, and the task or issue can often be revisited with less resistance.

When a child withdraws – shuts the bedroom door, curls up silent on the bed – it’s tempting to take it personally. To knock loudly, or to storm off yourself. But here’s the truth: often what’s happening is less about you and more about the child drowning in feelings they can’t quite put words to. Shame, sadness, fear.

The Empathy Bridge is about reaching across that gap. Not forcing them to talk, not demanding eye contact, but sending a quiet signal: I see you. I understand. And I’m here. Maybe it’s a few calm words through the door. Maybe it’s leaving a note or a favourite snack outside. Maybe it’s just sitting nearby, available.

The visual is a bridge of hearts or hands. You stand on your side, they on theirs. And you extend something across – empathy – so when they’re ready, they can walk back over. The bridge is patient. It doesn’t collapse if they don’t use it straight away.

This says to the child: Even if you push me away, I won’t give up on you. And in time, that’s how trust is built. They learn that silence won’t scare you off. That feelings won’t break the relationship. And that you are a steady presence on the far side of the cliff, always waiting, always ready to welcome them back.

(You speak through the door or next to the withdrawn child, calmly and kindly): “I know it’s been a really upsetting day. If I were you, I might want to hide under the covers too. Just wanted to say I understand why you feel that way, and it’s alright. I’m here whenever you feel like talking or even if you just want a hug. Take your time – I’m not going anywhere.”

(In this script, you're naming and normalising the child’s likely feelings, showing empathy: “I’d feel the same if I were in your shoes.” There’s also an explicit assurance of presence: “I’m here… I’m not going anywhere,” which is crucial for a child worried about being given up on. The tone is gentle, not demanding a response. You might sit quietly nearby, or leave a soft toy or drawing materials as an invitation. The child then knows the bridge is there whenever they are ready to cross back into interaction. Even if the child doesn’t respond immediately, such messages sink in and over time the child will trust that the carer truly cares and empathises with them.)