Illustration by Marcelina Jagielka.
Having been involved with social mobility programmes since 2019, it will surprise many that I have actually never written on the idea of class. Well, other than in my degree, where we are taught those who are working-class are less likely to hold ‘progressive values’, a loaded suggestion in itself that I’ll leave in the tutorial for the sake of brevity.
Class is something I have confronted implicitly, from facing pushback from some friends for going to an ‘elite institution’, to the inevitable stream of insults I get on my Twitter every time I write something which has ‘University of Oxford’ at the bottom. It is also something which, over recent months, I have found increasingly hard to ignore. And that led me to the question of why I was ignoring it in the first place.
After a conversation with a friend who grew up in the North East of England, I began to realise our perspectives on class were quite different. They spoke of how they felt there was working-class solidarity, and working-class people in their area were proud of their collective struggle and achievements; I spoke of how one of my life goals had been to move beyond my area and any limitations I felt my background had placed on me which, in an implicit way, made being comfortably middle-class the supposed ideal.
The dominant media narrative in society is on social mobility and upward progression; while it is good that many more students from schools and areas which would typically not apply to the most competitive universities in the UK are, we should interrogate the consequences of placing these universities on such a pinnacle. Yes, Oxbridge and other competitive institutions can be a force for good when they reach out to disadvantaged areas. But going to those institutions should not be at the cost of devaluing other incredibly useful or viable options, options which may actually be more suited to some individuals.
We also need to challenge these media narratives where applicable—the implications of these ideas can be quite harmful. If social mobility is the goal of UK society, then are we suggesting those who don’t ‘progress’ are failing as individuals? Class, in addition, is not just about the profession you are in, but about your background and experiences which shape your journey. Nobody should feel shame for their upbringing, of which they have no control over.
Ultimately, class plays a structural role in UK society today, and narratives or media opinion columns can’t wish them away. From access to higher education to diversity in various parts of the UK workforce, we cannot ignore the fact that somebody born into a lower income household will face systematic barriers that mean they do not have the same opportunities as those from a higher income background.
Class also plays out in the microcosm of Oxford itself. I have to admit, in many respects I haven’t experienced classism compared to other students from similar backgrounds to mine—I have an undefined accent and I DJ. An undefined accent means I can’t be placed anywhere specific within the country, and avoids some of the stigma friends from some parts of the country face. And being a DJ meant that, when I joined the university, the first question wasn’t what school I went to, but how I got into this hobby and how long I had been doing it for. They may be small things, but I feel they have made a massive difference to my experience.
That doesn’t mean class hasn’t shaped my experience. A particularly clear example at this time of year is about what people are doing with their time—while last year I was working multiple jobs per day, others had the opportunity to rest or to travel the world. The last time I went abroad was on a school trip in 2017, and at the moment I am unlikely to go abroad before the end of my degree. These are very visible ways of how class plays out and, at times, it can really highlight how students at the same university are living hugely different lives.
From applying to Oxford to actually being at the university, students from working-class backgrounds are less likely to have a ready-made network. While student societies like Class Act and the 93% Club do great work to try to bridge this divide, it can seem daunting when you feel like other people are better socially prepared.
The final example I want to focus on is the barrier of belief in your ability to succeed. I do feel sometimes, as a student from a working-class background I’m less certain of if I will succeed that those from more advantaged backgrounds, a perception of myself that they may share. White private-school men are idolised as leaders, noticeably put on a pedestal for being ‘charming’, or are expected to take charge. Anyone outside of these norms is seen as a challenger or outsider. We need to ask ourselves what we unconsciously view as ‘desirable’ characteristics.
Even writing this, I feel cautious of what to say; perhaps I am held back by my own preconceptions. I don’t blame other students for how things are, though of course I condemn any steps which make working-class students feel they are not welcome. With this article, I want to show my own journey to seeing the structural barriers class can put in place, and to ask my peers to challenge media narratives which are harmful to our societal fabric and sense of identity.
I want to briefly close by highlighting why this conversation is important. Reading Lucy Heywood’s article on class led me to write my own reflections, and I hope this will encourage others to share their own experiences. By doing this, we can build greater understanding of experiences within the university, and I hope it can lead to change for the greater good.
The power of diversity throughout your life should not be underestimated, from friendship circles to boardrooms and everywhere in-between. Everyone brings their life experiences to the table, and we can only make the best decisions or have the most informed perspective when we take these on board. This is why organisations like KMPG measuring and working to improve working-class representation is important. Working-class people play a substantive role in producing policy that works in the interests of wider society by raising points nobody else will think of; be it from exclusionary language to exorbitant costs, working-class representation will bring perspectives that may not be traditionally considered, making inclusion a reality.
So let’s not shy away from discourse on class; let’s acknowledge the restrictive influence background can play, and work to make a fairer society a reality. Working-class representation at all levels of society will make it a more inclusive one, and we should keep challenging the harmful norms which are allowed to continue within our culture. Social mobility should not be at the cost of wellbeing, and ideas of ‘progress’ should not be at the cost of dignity and respect for all.