My Working-Class Experience of University: A System Built for the Privileged?

For many working-class students, university is portrayed as a pathway to opportunity; a means to achieve social mobility and secure a better future. However, the reality often involves navigating financial hardships, systemic inequalities, and cultural barriers that can make the university experience challenging and, at times, disheartening.

Educational disparities begin long before university. In 2018/2019, only 19% of state school students progressed to higher education by age 19, compared to 56.5% of independent school students. This gap highlights the unequal access to resources and opportunities that can leave working-class students academically underprepared. For instance, limited course offerings in underfunded schools mean that many students cannot pursue subjects at A-level, putting them at a disadvantage upon entering university. While others had a foundational knowledge of politics, I was playing catch-up from day one. This is a common issue for working-class students, as school funding disparities mean that wealthier areas/schools often have a wider range of courses and better resources.

Throughout university, I heard the same thing over and over: that I was "lucky" to have the maximum student loan. People from wealthier backgrounds saw this as free money, something to enjoy rather than a necessity. The perception that receiving the maximum student loan is "lucky" overlooks the financial realities faced by working-class students. Maintenance loans, intended to cover living expenses, range from £4,767 to £10,227, depending on family income. However, with average monthly student expenses at £1,078, there's an annual shortfall of £3,000 to £8,000. Unlike their wealthier peers, working-class students often lack familial financial support, making it necessary to budget meticulously and sometimes forgo essential experiences. And those with the maximum loan come out with the most debt. 

While universities often promote their financial support systems, the application process can be fraught with challenges. My own experience has shown that this support is often superficial. Strict criteria and bureaucratic hurdles can result in the rejection of bursary applications, even when the need is evident. Both times I applied for a university bursary, I was rejected. The first time, I was turned down because my proof of hardship, evidence of my broken laptop, was deemed insufficient, despite that being a minor part of my application. The second time, I was rejected on the basis that I had "enough" money in my account, despite explicitly stating in my application that every penny was allocated for rent, leaving me with nothing. Even after pointing this mistake out, my application was still denied because I had previously used my loan to help my family. This experience can leave students feeling judged and unsupported and that its just a way for the university to tick a box without actually helping those in need.

The Cost of University Life

University life and social integration is built around societies, events, and nights out... all of which cost money. If you can’t afford to participate, you quickly find yourself on the outside looking in. This has had a real impact on my university experience and my mental health. While others were making lifelong friendships and enjoying student life, I had to prioritise necessities. Research indicates that 56% of undergraduates engage in paid employment while studying, a rise from 45% in previous years, suggesting that many students work to afford these social experiences. This requires balancing work, study and social life, the latter often being the first sacrifice. The expectation to pay for social experiences isolates those who simply don’t have the extra funds, creating a divide between students who can fully immerse themselves in university life and those who can’t.

The Weight of Debt

By the time I graduate, I will be burdened with a significant amount of student debt, and I can’t help but wonder whether it will be worth it. According to recent data, the average student in the UK leaves university with around £45,600 in debt. The job market is increasingly saturated with graduates, and wages have stagnated. I am also paying extra because I am currently retaking my third year after a very difficult previous year. This adds another financial strain that wealthier students are often insulated from. 

The prospect of substantial debt is a significant concern. The cost of obtaining a one-year master's degree has significantly increased, averaging £12,700, with some courses costing over £80,000. The maximum student loan available to postgraduates in England is £12,858, often insufficient to cover both tuition and living expenses, resulting in many students facing substantial debt. This financial burden can be particularly daunting for those who have already incurred debt during their undergraduate studies, leading to anxiety about future financial stability.

Barriers to Employment

Securing part-time employment during university is often essential for financial survival. However, working-class students may face obstacles such as limited prior work experience or high competition for available positions. Before university, my anxiety disorder and responsibilities at home meant I couldn’t work as a teenager. I always planned to get a job at university, but despite applying, I have been unsuccessful. The reality is that many employers won’t hire students without prior experience, and competition for part-time work is fierce. Additionally, The assumption that students can simply "work through uni" to support themselves ignores the reality for working-class students who don’t have the connections, experience, or time to balance work and study, which can detract from academic performance and limit participation in extracurricular activities. 

When universities discuss careers and employability, unpaid internships, gap years, and work experience placements are treated as the norm. But for working-class students, unpaid work is often untenable. We can’t afford to spend months working for free, and the cost of things like a year abroad is often too high to even consider. The opportunities that are framed as "career-enhancing" are, in reality, inaccessible to many students from poorer backgrounds, meaning that wealthier students continue to have the upper hand in the job market.  According to research by the Sutton Trust, approximately 61% of internships undertaken by recent graduates are unpaid or pay below the minimum wage. This situation has led to a widening gap between graduates from different socioeconomic backgrounds, with only a third of working-class graduates having completed an internship, compared to 55% of their middle-class counterparts. The reliance on unpaid internships disproportionately affects those from less affluent backgrounds, as they often cannot afford to work without compensation. This financial barrier limits their access to valuable work experience, which is increasingly essential for securing professional roles. The Sutton Trust advocates for a ban on unpaid internships lasting more than four weeks and calls for better enforcement of minimum wage laws to ensure fair access to career opportunities. Without intervention, the continued normalisation of unpaid internships will only serve to deepen social inequalities in the graduate job market. 

The Cultural Divide at University

For many people like me who come from working-class backgrounds, the first time you experience the mind-blowing class divide is at university. The differences between you and your more culturally and financially wealthy peers never feel quite so expansive as in the tiny bubble of lectures, societies, libraries and canteens, where you’re introduced to people you would never have clapped eyes on had you not left your regional hometown.

While these meetings are incredibly formative, the experience of changing your behaviour and silencing your background for working-class students at university seems fairly ubiquitous. With rising fees and crippling debt, as well as a range of subjects which, for many, appear to have no links to getting a job, going to university is still a far more middle and upper-class, rather than working-class, reality.

Universities like to promote their working-class intake, showcasing diversity and inclusion as evidence of their success. But behind the statistics, the reality is often very different. While it may look good for universities to admit working-class students, the support needed to ensure we succeed is often lacking. Financial barriers, social exclusion, and structural inequalities mean that our experience is fundamentally different from that of our wealthier peers. University mental health services are another area that, while seemingly helpful, are often inflexible and impersonal. The rigid structures of these services don’t account for the ongoing stress of financial hardship or the unique pressures faced by working-class students. The assumption is that we just need to "cope" rather than addressing the systemic issues that create these challenges in the first place. 

A System Stacked Against Us

The working-class experience of university is fraught with financial challenges, social exclusion, and systemic barriers. While higher education is often touted as a vehicle for social mobility, the existing structure tends to favour those from more affluent backgrounds. To create a truly inclusive and supportive environment, universities must acknowledge these disparities and implement targeted measures to support working-class students throughout their academic journey.