Widening participation isn’t finished while background still predicts destination
I grew up in a low-income working-class family, one of six children, eligible for free school meals. When I was four my dad’s business failed and we became homeless, and I later shared a small council house bedroom with my four sisters. My dad built me a fold-down desk for my homework, which I sat at every hour before my younger sister’s bedtime, and I took to sitting up late with a small lamp. My studies became a private, almost secret pursuit. School was marked by not having enough of anything. In primary school my older sister would find me and my brother with a flask of soup, pouring it into the cup-lid so we could take turns drinking our “packed lunch”. When my mother announced we would be getting Family Income Supplement, I told my class, thrilled that I’d now have a free hot meal every day, and met my teacher’s stony silence, which I took to mean I should be ashamed of my family. I gradually learned the rules. I learned not to …
