Walk into many STEM faculties across the UK, and you might notice something right away: the posters/decor speak of diversity, the strategies promise inclusion, and the websites proudly showcase progress or perhaps more accurately, incremental progress. Yet, look a little closer at who is leading labs, shaping research agendas, and influencing decision-making, and a different story often emerges. As a male academic of colour researching within STEM education spaces, I often find myself asking a simple but ‘uncomfortable’ question: Are we really moving the needle? And perhaps more importantly, who is still being left behind? The experiences of women academics of colour continue to reveal a persistent gap between representational gains and promising agendas to pursue equ(al)ity. Their stories speak not just about numbers, but about belonging, voice, and power. They also echo wider concerns raised in Danny Clegg’s WonkHE blog, where he suggests that universities are often better at documenting inequalities than preventing or addressing them. These reflections challenge all of us, including men and men of colour such as myself, to think more introspectively about what it means to actively contribute to decolonising STEM and academia more broadly.
For many institutions, progress is measured through the politics of enumeration, even when agendas are well-intentioned: how many women are recruited, how many minoritised academics are appointed, how many diversity initiatives are launched. These numbers matter, of course. But numbers alone do not tell the whole story. Being the only one in the room or, worse still, being present to ‘authenticate’ spaces and projects without necessarily shaping them remains a familiar trope of experience for many women academics of colour. Alongside this is the invisible and often unremunerated labour of mentoring students seeking role models, sitting on diversity committees, and balancing expectations both at home and in the workplace that weighs on her body and career. Do I also speak of the tensions of performing particular forms of scientific legitimacy – marked by her ability to speak science, do science, and embody science in ways that mirror dominant cultural practices?
I have witnessed, and through my research, had the privilege to listen to, brilliant women academics of colour whose ideas (re)shape conversations, yet whose contributions are sometimes framed as “niche” rather than central to STEM innovation. These experiences speak to representational politics, signalling symbolic inclusion and progress without disrupting the epistemic centre. As Kalwant Bhopal’s article discusses, even equ(al)ity and diversity staff within universities often find themselves constrained; able to “talk the talk” but not always permitted to “walk the walk” when it comes to implementing equitable changes. Representation, in this sense, becomes visible but precarious; present, yet positioned at the margins of institutional power, even when occupying a leadership position.
As a male academic of colour, I am also conscious of the spaces I occupy and the privileges I may hold, even within marginalised identities. Decolonising STEM is not simply about increasing diversity; it is more about questioning whose knowledge counts, whose voices are heard, and whose experiences shape institutional change. This means listening more carefully to women academics of colour, amplifying their contributions, and reflecting on how we, as colleagues, mentors, and collaborators, can challenge systems that continue to (re)produce inequ(al)ities. It also means recognising that decolonisation is neither a metaphor, as Tuck and Yang, put it, nor a destination but an ongoing practice. Sometimes this work involves small but subversive everyday actions: citing their work, recommending them for leadership roles, or challenging assumptions about their credibility and expertise in meetings. These may seem like small steps, but they contribute to shifting cultures and redistributing voice and influence.
Encouragingly, there are growing conversations and initiatives seeking to address these issues. From mentorship networks and collaborative research communities to institutional commitments around equity and inclusion, there are signs of movement in the right direction. Yet, the question remains: are these efforts reshaping structures, or simply reshaping appearances? The stories of women academics of colour offer a powerful reminder that equitable and lasting changes require more than good intentions. It requires sustained commitment, uncomfortable conversations, and shared responsibility. As we continue to trouble the question of whether we are moving the needle, perhaps the most important step is to keep listening, keep reflecting, and keep working together toward a STEM academy where representation is not only visible but fundamentally equitable.
Dr Abimbola Abodunrin Post-doc Researcher in Education University of Glasgow a.abodunrin.1@research.gla.ac.uk
In this short blog post based upon my recently published article in British Journal Sociology of Education (Rowell 2026) I cast light on the enduring role of economic capital and access to knowledge in shaping educational pathways and decision making. I reflect on the economic insecurity that class inequality casts over educational opportunities, even in the lives of those considered to have succeed in education. In doing so I argue for greater systematic support pertaining to inclusion of working-class students at the doctoral level if we are to diversify higher education knowledge production and to take seriously historical epistemological injustices with regards to the classed politics of knowledge production and inequalities of representation.
Reproduction in education thrives off of one’s (in)ability to access knowledge. Knowing what counts as valid and worthy, having a feel for the unwritten rules that open doors for some and lock out others. At the highest level of educational attainment then, one would be shocked and surprised perhaps then to learn that access to doctoral funding (and subsequent doctoral study per se, for working-class students) is seldom based on one’s academic accolades but rather who they happened to be taught by. Afterall, education is a meritocracy, right? It’s not who you know but what you know? Wrong, as my research illustrates. In the case of being working-class and accessing doctoral funding then, having access to a ‘significant academic other’ (Rowell 2026) opens the possibility and probability of doctoral study as I discuss below.
Within the UK, and elsewhere higher education has moved from an elite to mass system of enrolment, it nonetheless remains a deeply classed sphere. As Walkerdine reminds us, higher education continues to operate as a classed pathway and bastion of classed knowledge (Walkerdine 2021) especially so given academia’s classed ceiling (Friedman and Laurison 2019). Whilst there exists a plethora of research illuminating the experiences of working-class students at the undergraduate level and to a lesser extent the postgraduate researcher level, working-class access to, experiences of and outcomes pertaining to doctoral education remain largely absent. This was thus the imperative and motivating factor shaping my research exploring working-class women’s experience of navigating access to and through (and out of) doctoral study. Funded by the Society for Research in Higher Education (Rowell 2026) the research sought to explore the way(s) in which a working-class background shaped experiences of doctoral study, in doing so the research revealed the enduring nature of economic inequality upon access to higher education at the doctoral level.
Whilst unpacking the experiences of thirteen working-class cis women’s journeys to doctoral education within the discipline of Sociology it became apparent that access (or not) to economic and social capital deeply structured their progression to and entry into doctoral study. All of the working-class women I interviewed had received funding – and – without exception would not have been able to afford to pursue doctoral study otherwise. The working-class women’s arrival at securing funding was by no means seamless nor linear, but often the outcomes of starts, stops and circling back round as they attempted to navigate the unfamiliar journey of navigating doctoral fundings.
For many of the participants, the inability to pay straight up for doctoral study was exactly what precluded them from embarking on a seamless academic trajectory and not having access to economic capital resulted in fractured academic journeys. More profoundly however, access to economic capital through securing research funding (what I refer to as ‘accrued economic capital’) was foundational in equipping participants with the necessary economic capital allowing them to embark on doctoral study possible.
A common theme and thread throughout participants narratives was the role that academics, who were also from working-class background played in supporting students accessing doctoral funding. Such academics, I refer to as ‘significant academic others’, a conceptual tool to theorise a specific form of academic social capital that, within the field of UKHE, provides access to hot knowledge (Ball and Vincent 1998), in this case: doctoral funding opportunities. ‘Significant academic others’ were drawn upon as a source of capital facilitating working-class students’ entry to doctoral study; it is through their ‘significant academic others’ that the working-class women were equipped with the right knowledge (cultural capital) of how to navigate the postgraduate doctoral fundings landscape. Most of the working-class women (all but one) were made aware of doctoral funding opportunities through their ‘significant academic other’ as opposed to more systematic practices, such as university or funder information dissemination outlets. It demonstrates how, for the working-class participants of this research acquiring the economic capital required for doctoral study was not a straightforward process or the results of structural widening participation initiatives but the result of lucky encounters with their ‘significant academic others’ (often too from working-class backgrounds).
I call on universities and funders to deliver targeted and systematic support aimed at making known, to working-class student communities the opportunities for doctoral funding and to make clear the unwritten rules of game that enable some to secure such funding over others. If we are serious about the inclusion of working-class students at the doctoral level, then we must take seriously inequalities in access.
References:
Ball, S.J. and Vincent, C., 1998. ’I Heard It on the Grapevine’: ‘hot’ knowledge and school choice. British journal of Sociology of Education, 19(3), pp.377-400.
Friedman, S. and Laurison, D., 2019. The class ceiling: Why it pays to be privileged. Policy Press.
Rowell, C.R., 2025. Fighting for funding, working-class women’s transitions to sociology doctoral education: ‘Significant academic others’, economic and social capital. British Journal of Sociology of Education, pp.1-22.
Walkerdine, V., 2021. What’s class got to do with it? Discourse: Studies in the cultural politics of education, 42(1), pp.60-74.
It is astonishing that a conference on Black British Girlhood Studies was convened for the first time in Britain in 2025, and we support and applaud this shift and look forward to many more – nonetheless, this truth is telling of the intellectual and political space that we are in. It also reflects a wider issue of epistemic whiteness and neocolonial violence which permeates and bolsters academic and wider institutional practices and agendas. For Black girls, their communities/families, and Black girlhood orientated scholars, researchers, practitioners, and professionals, the field is unsupported and requires research, funding, and more coordination and movement to build momentum, and consequently, drive progress.
Co-hosted by the Centre for Social Change and Justice (CSCJ), and funded by the School of Childhood and Social Care, CSCJ, and Student Life at the University of East London, the main objective of the symposium is to delve into some of the complexities involved in Black British Girlhood as a site for understanding a range of ideas around race, ethnicity, culture, gender, health, community, dis/ability and neurodivergence. It will grapple with Black girl experiences with consideration community, embodiment, and institutions such as school, social care, and technology – to name a few.
This is an interdisciplinary discussion where Black girls (18 and over) and women, academic, practitioner, students, policy and other professionals and stakeholders are welcome to contribute and collaborate in moving the agenda forward.
The symposium takes place on the 11th March 2026 at the University of East London, UK.
If you have any enquiries regarding Black Girl Streams or more specifically BEGSA including the Special Interest Stream, email: info@blackgirlstreams.com
I am Dr Silhouette Bushay, Senior Lecturer and Course Leader at the University of East London, and Founder, Executive Director and Lead Scholar at Black Girl Streams C.I.C.
The intersectionality of class and gender is at the forefront of my experience and research as a PhD student exploring curriculum justice. In this blog post, I reflect on my higher education journey as a white, working-class, British woman and I touch upon how structural inequalities are embedded in curriculum design and delivery. I explore how neoliberal ideologies commodify education, marginalise working-class women, and erase diverse ways of knowing. My experience and reflections have shaped my commitment to advocating for curriculum reform that promotes epistemological justice, which has the potential to lead to broader social transformation.
A Moment To Reflect
Very recently, I attended a conference where one of the presenters mentioned that personal social injustices they face motivate them to change things for others. This resonated deeply with me and prompted me to reflect on my own intellectual journey through higher education, particularly my undergraduate studies. I reflected on how my experiences as a working-class white British woman not only shaped my path but also my research into gender and curriculum justice.
I vividly remember the look in my dad’s eyes when I told him I was intending to go to university after completing my A Levels. I caught a glimpse of the heart-stopping, stomach-dropping panic.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Have you thought about getting a job?’
‘You don’t have to because your friends are, you know?’
I knew I didn’t have to. I wanted to. Even in those self-absorbed teenage years, I did feel for my dad. I was asking for the equivalent of 2 years’ worth of food shopping for our working-class family of four, to be paid over the course of the next 3 years. Yet, with the most pained smile I will probably ever witness, he agreed.
I studied Music, and it wasn’t until my third year that I came across my first female lecturer, a guest lecturer from the Music Therapy Master’s course. It was then that I realised there were no female lecturers in the department. We did not learn about any female composers and anything aside from Western music was crammed into a one-semester elective module in the first year – ethnomusicology – taught by a very charming, but very white, middle-class male.
I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now I truly understand how teaching cannot be viewed as a matter outside of social class. Teaching is an overt genderised profession with evident historical roots within the capitalist system (Anyon, 1997; Arnot, 2002; hooks, 1994; Darder, 1991). I now question myself: Was it worth it? Is it worth it for working-class women now, after 20 years? What knowledge, or rather whose knowledge, are you paying for? These are just some of the questions I hope to answer through my research.
Working-Class Realities and the Cost of Aspiration
Class matters are deeply intertwined with gender and, needless to say, racial categories. (Davies, 2019; hooks, 1987; Darder, 1991) I have found that women are disproportionately affected by precarious work conditions, unpaid carer roles and responsibilities, as well as exclusion due to disability. Also, it is interesting to notice whose women one is referring to? In recent research, the UK Trades Union Congress (2025) revealed that women are 34% more likely to be on exploitative zero-hour contracts than men, BME women are 103% more likely than white men, and disabled women are 49% more likely.
When I started my undergraduate studies in 2005, university tuition fees in England were set at £1,500 a year. At that time, the National Minimum Wage was £5.05 per hour for those aged 22 and over, and £4.25 per hour for those aged 18 to 21. Fees were the equivalent of 297 hours’ and 353 hours’ worth of work, respectively. Have things got better? Unfortunately, no. The National Living Wage, as it is now known, is set at £12.21, and a year’s fees can be charged at a maximum of £9,535 in England and Wales: an equivalent of 781 hours. So, what kind of curriculum are you paying all this money for? What will you learn? Who benefits from ‘such learning’? Importantly, is it worth the mounting debt for the working class in particular? Alarmingly, if one pays attention to studies promoted by conservative psychologists, such as Jordan Peterson, equality policies, particularly in Scandinavian nations, have aggravated gender equality.
It is essential to recognise that prevailing societal ideologies influence the dominant forms of curriculum theory, design, and development. At present, as research documents, neoliberalism has been capable of imposing itself as a public pedagogy aiming for educational outcomes that are directed by primary market drivers. Students are treated as a commodity, like any other commodity, a captive mass of customers, and knowledge is viewed as a commodity as well (Apple, 2000; Giroux, 2011). There is an emphasis on ‘marketable skills,’ which reinforces capitalist values, namely, individualism, competition, and instrumental views of reason and existence. Since the market dictates education, pedagogy is compartmentalized and individualized to be in tune with those markets. In the course of my research so far, I have observed that the majority of online prospectuses foreground workplace skills that can be acquired during the course, before describing the degree content. For some, this isn’t very meaningful. The curriculum is designed to serve the labour market, not the students. It promotes skills for employability, assuming everyone is a potential worker, and adds little value for women who cannot work or are in insecure jobs, creating a sense of economic disempowerment. Notably, education is closely tied to a new emerging gendered class: the precariat. Distinct from the traditional working-class, the ‘precariat’ (a term originally coined in 2011 by British economist, Guy Standing (2014)) are characterised by their precarious employment, unstable living conditions and lack of rights both within and outside of the workplace.
From a progressive feminist perspective, this assumption overlooks structural inequalities (such as access to employment, leadership roles, and equal pay, to name but a few) that disproportionately affect women—particularly those in caregiving roles, precarious employment, or excluded from formal work altogether. It adds little value for the women who cannot work or are in insecure jobs, creating a sense of economic disempowerment. By prioritising individualised success and employability, neoliberal curriculum design erases collective struggles and reinforces gendered marginalisation within education.
Intersecting Inequalities: Who Is Left Behind?
Neoliberal framing also builds the curriculum as a site of power. Bernstein (1971) claims, “how a society selects, classifies, distributes, transmits and evaluates the educational knowledge it considers to be public reflects both the distribution of power and the principles of social control”. The curriculum, therefore, is a selective tradition (Williams, 1983): when you select, you make choices of what is ‘in’ and ‘out.’…and in so doing, you murder countless knowledge platforms. ‘Educated knowledge’ is often defined by dominant Western, patriarchal, and capitalist ideologies, and higher education is no exception. The curriculum has an epistemicidal nerve (Paraskeva, 2011). The general curriculum engages in epistemological looting (Paraskeva, 2016), privileging Western Eurocentric narratives while silencing indigenous, feminist, and non-Western epistemologies. ‘Objective’ knowledge is masculinised, whilst socially constructed ways of knowing and emotional experiences are feminised and devalued. Actually, in many aspects, they have been produced as non-existent (Santos, 2014). Epistemological violence (Paraskeva 2016) against working-class women and other disenfranchised individuals and communities has historically been rampant -not just in the West – and this rode upon the wave of colonisation to the South. Hence, women from indigenous communities face double the marginalisation and oppression from both patriarchal and colonial powers.
How do the politics of the curriculum impact working-class women? They are systematically neglected: the curriculum rarely reflects the lived experiences of the working-class, as their knowledge is often rooted in survival, care, and community, and is not considered ‘academic’ or ‘valuable’. This invisibility also means that others, outside of their community, do not understand their realities. Women’s invisibility in the curriculum matters has been consolidated through men’s visibility.
Additionally, the current curriculum perpetuates social hierarchies. As a result of the white, patriarchal Western Eurocentric norms embedded in the curriculum, working-class women are assumed to be uneducated and unskilled despite their different ways of knowing, reinforcing classism, ableism, racism, and sexism in both education and society. Constant exclusion from educational narratives and opportunities can lead to disempowerment and alienation, also limiting their ability to advocate for themselves or their communities.
Towards Epistemological Justice
I was fortunate enough to secure a full-time job, albeit at minimum wage, while attending school. Working full-time hours and studying on a full-time course was intense, and sure, I would have attained better marks if it had not been for cramming coursework in work breaks, but I managed to see myself through and come out with a piece of paper on the other side to show the world I had a degree. Looking back, however, it cost a lot more than money. My identity – my working-class ontology, my epistemology, and even my accent, which set me apart – all had to be shed for me to fit in with my peers and absorb white Western male knowledge. I am not ashamed to admit that, if it were not for employers covering the costs of my Master’s and PhD studies, nor for the fantastic support I receive from my supervisors, I would not be where I am today.
I was, and still am, lucky — and it is not fair. As a society, we need to strive for something better, and I hope this is where my research will lead me. I cannot see how we can change society without changing education and teacher education. Although I am not naïve, as education alone cannot transform society, the truth is that the social transformation we so desperately need requires a radical shift in the way we think about and approach education. I am making it my mission to explore curriculum theories that promote epistemological justice, embrace diverse and plural ways of knowing, and break away from a territorialised curriculum that is fixed, canonised, and built on colonial and patriarchal frameworks.
REFERENCES
Anyon, J. (1997). Ghetto Schooling. New York: Teachers College Press.
Apple, M. (2000). Official Knowledge. New York Routledge
Arnot, M. (2002) Reproducing Gender. New York: Routledge
Bernstein, B. (1971) ‘On the Classification and Framing of Educational Knowledge’. In M. F. D. Young (ed), Knowledge and Control. New Directions for the Sociology of Education (pp. 47- 69). London: Collier-Macmillan
Darder, A. (1991). Culture and Power in the Classroom. New York: Routledge
Davies, A. (2019) Woman, Race and Class. New York: Penguin.
Giroux, H. (2011) Education and the Crisis of Public Values. New York: Peter Lang
hooks, b. (1987) Ain’t I A Woman: Black Women and Feminism. London: Pluto Press.
hooks, b. (1994) Teaching to Transgress. New York: Routledge
Paraskeva, J. M. (2011) Conflicts in Curriculum Theory. New York: Palgrave
Paraskeva, J. M. (2016) Curriculum Epistemicides. New York: Routledge
Santos, B. (2014) Epistemologies from the South. Boulder: Paradigm
Standing, G. (2014) The Precariat: The new dangerous class. London: Bloomsbury
Understanding the process of socialization and the learning of politics and citizenship during the formative period of adolescence is crucial for comprehending the origin of the gender gap in political and civic participation later in adulthood, including experiences within the school environment. Schools, whether through explicit or implicit content, can contribute to the conceptualization of politics and citizenship as a male domain if their practices and interactions among students perpetuate gender biases and stereotypes (the tendency to attribute specific characteristics and traits to men and women (Jost & Kay, 2005)).
Schools possess formative potential that extends beyond the classroom, involving the institution as a whole. As Kerr (2015) emphasizes, citizenship education encompasses the classroom through the curriculum and teaching practices; the institution as a whole through spaces for deliberation and school participation; and the school’s relationship with the community through service activities and educational outings, among other aspects. While there is extensive literature and empirical evidence focused on the classroom and the influence of teachers on the development of students’ citizenship competences (Gainous & Martens, 2012; Schulz et al., 2018; Torney-Purta, 2002), less attention has been given to the role of school leaders in citizenship education, considering the formative potential of the entire school.
This project focus on school leadership (principals, management teams and teachers in leadership positions within the school) to observe their role in the process and experience of political socialization and citizenship education of Chilean students. In doing so, we aimed to identify their approach to gender issues and the existence of gender biases that could contribute to the construction and (re)production of a citizenship associated with the masculine or feminine roles in political life.
What have we done?
During the months of project execution, we gathered essential data to address the research objectives. Case studies were conducted to observe and analyse gender biases in learning and teaching processes within the school environment, with a specific focus on the role of educational leadership.
We collaborated with a sample of four secondary public schools in Santiago, Chile, including two exclusively female schools. To ensure gender balance in school leadership, we selected two schools led by female principals and two by male principals. In line with our initial proposal, we conducted in-depth interviews with educational leaders and citizenship education teachers. The objective was to gain insights into their perspectives on citizenship learning and teaching from a gender-oriented standpoint.
We interviewed a total of seven citizenship education teachers and six members of management teams. The analysis of these four school cases focused on the discourses and practices of leaders (political and citizenship beliefs and attitudes) and the opportunities for teaching and learning (spaces for deliberation and participation, as well as the school’s relationship with the community) offered by the school as a whole. The interviews, conducted between May and October 2023, lasted approximately one hour each.
What are our main findings so far?
The four schools analyzed exhibit differences in their school culture, yet they also share some characteristics in many of the examined issues.
From the cases examined, citizenship training plans have been developed, as mandated by the Ministry of Education (outlining citizenship education actions and learning opportunities for primary and secondary education students). In a couple of schools, units have been established to address gender issues. However, in the case of citizenship education plans, in general, these are not known by the school community and have a limited impact, as there has been no collective reflection on the type of citizenship the school community seeks to emphasize or the actions this will entail. It is suggested that the formulation of these plans has been primarily for regulatory compliance rather than constructing an educational plan for the community.
A noteworthy aspect in three of the schools is the recent establishment, within the last two years, of an internal department addressing gender issues. However, these departments or units are still in their early stages, and like the citizenship plans, their scope is not yet known or shared by the educational communities. While these units represent progress in addressing the visibility of gender issues, their focus has been oriented toward addressing gender diversity, coexistence problems, and non-discrimination rather than promoting formative or educational strategies from a non-sexist approach.
In all four cases, diverse citizenship conceptualizations are observed, which even differ within each school. Views range from critical positions regarding what has traditionally been understood as citizenship, related to civic duties and rights, to others where a broader and more active conception of citizenship linked to common good and democratic coexistence is observed. Regarding feminism, a common discourse is observed in all four schools around its relevance. While its importance is declared, the concept is not used institutionally, and instead, similar concepts such as gender equality or equity are mentioned.
Concerning forms of organisation and student participation, three parallel phenomena are observed in all cases:
1. A growing weakening of traditional forms of student participation such as Student Unions, which generally have low attendance and often do not garner validation among students.
2. Minority groups of students with higher levels of politicisation, participation, and mobilisation capacity, who often drive actions such as school occupations.
3. School administrators and teachers report a growing lack of interest and disenchantment among students with topics related to traditional and electoral politics, even due to causes such as feminism during the post-pandemic period (2021-2023). However, there is a reported increase in interest in other types of issues such as animal rights.
These realities have a correlation in the discourses of school leadership, where there is a lack of problematization in relation to the type of citizenship that the school privileges, as well as to possible gender gaps or an education that produces or reproduces gender biases. These discourses, rather, focus on reducing gender issues only to the promotion of non-discrimination and the promotion of sexual diversity, from a focus on reparation rather than prevention, instead of thinking about the development of strategies in the formative or educational field for a non-sexist approach (from pedagogical practices, contents, work materials).
What can we conclude at this point?
All in all, it can be said that there is progress in schools in relation to citizenship education and gender issues, which contributes to the recognition and visibility of both topics. However, these advances are limited and the school leadership rather lacks of a critical or reflective vision on citizenship and the challenges, gaps and biases that citizenship education faces in terms of gender.
Finally, we did not encounter any ethical issues in the fieldwork. Before the fieldwork this study was revised and approved by Diego Portales University ethical committee. Participants were required to read and sign a written informed consent prior to their interview. We also tried to be mostly transparent with our research purposes and the future use that any information will have.
By Alice Little, Josh, Oscar, Elliot, Charlotte Haines-Lyon, & Nathalie Noret
Pupil toilets are a problematic space in school. Pupils often report feeling unsafe and being concerned about the cleanliness and hygiene of school toilets. As such are often reluctant to use the toilets in school time. We aimed to work with young people to explore and challenge common toilet narratives to develop healthier, more equitable toilet practice.
Working with young people, we developed a participatory research project to examine: how can young people work with schools to develop toilet policy and practice that is safe, healthy, and socially just? We successfully recruited a secondary school in South Yorkshire to participate in the project. The school had recently conducted a student voice survey and identified a problem with the school toilets. Our student as researchers group decided to investigate this further.
Consistent with our participatory approach to the project, our blog post is co-authored with members of our young people research team, Josh, Oscar, and Elliot. This approach was approved by our institutional ethics board. We highlight why the young people decided to get in the project, what they have done so far in the project, and why they feel Toilet Talk is important.
Why get involved?
Josh – My motivations for joining Toilet Talk was to gain an insight into the processes and factors considered during a research project at University standard. I joined Toilet Talk with these intentions in mind and soon became invested into the opinions and attitudes towards toilets and their usage from the answers given by students at my school and sixth form.
Oscar – I joined Toilet Talk because I have always felt that the quality of school toilets is below adequacy – I believed that through Toilet Talk, we would be able to make meaningful change to our Sixth Form, lower school, and schools across the country. I also felt that the research aspect would be quite interesting, i.e., looking at statistics from peers etc. I was interested in seeing if my opinions on the toilets in and around Sixth Form were shared among peers.
What we have done so far
Alice, Josh & Oscar – Initially we set out to work in a participatory way where the young people could lead the direction of the project. The young researchers chose a method for collecting data about school toilets. We began collaborating on choosing questions that could be asked to other pupils within the sixth form. We discussed ethical considerations such as confidentiality and safeguarding. An aim was to provide reassurance to pupils that we would respect their anonymity when answering the questionnaire. The team of pupil researchers wanted to make sure that respondents felt comfortable and could answer truthfully without any worry of any repercussions. The sessions were held in 25-minute form time slots, which fitted into the school day and were flexible to accommodate those who wanted to take part.
Some of our findings so far
Josh & Oscar –Initially we believed that social space and toilets were connected; our finding concurred that our predictions and estimations were closely matching to the outcome of the Student Voice Survey. 62% of respondents stating that the toilets in Sixth Form were being used as a social space, with 23% specifying that the toilets do not address all needs of pupils. It would be interesting to see if these findings and statistics are generally found across the country in all genders and age brackets – it would be helpful to research further into school toilets to confirm this belief. It was insightful to discover that many of our views on the toilets were shared with our peers as well.
Why these findings are important and our next steps
Josh & Oscar –Collectively, we agreed that sharing our findings with the head of our Sixth Form would be helpful in working towards a solution with the Student Voice Surveys in mind. An intention was to specifically address the findings on social space and accessibility, as we believe these are the key elements that are contributary towards achieving a more comfortable environment for students using the toilets. We believed that through our research being conducted alongside York St John University researchers, our student voice was elevated, and responses would be better received by our Sixth Form and its management. Therefore, hopefully the findings will result in a higher chance of action being taken towards the facilities, better improving the overall conditions for ourselves and our peers. We believe a higher quality environment is deserved for pupils within our sixth form, especially with equitable toilets being a basic human right.
The young researchers facilitated a meeting with senior leadership, and it became clear that no toilet policy existed within the sixth form. An action plan was created that included the co-creation of a toilet policy, and clear expectations to be set out in whole year group assemblies. The young researchers have opened dialogue with the leadership team about expectations and conditions of the sixth form toilets and they wanted to continue this discussion moving forward.
The Toilet Talk project has highlighted the benefits of employing a participatory approach when undertaking research in schools on sensitive and challenging topics. The young researchers in this project have highlighted how important it was to feel listened to and contribute to a meaningful discussion with their school leadership on their research findings. This has led to a change in school policy and practice related to school toilets.
This research secured ethical approval from the York St John University, School of Education, Language and Linguistics, Ethics Committee in January 2022. Written consent was received from the young people to take part in the Toilet Talk project and those involved in writing the blog attended a workshop session on authorship and anonymity within academia, and verbally consented to being named co-authors.
This blog post explores the Gender and Education Association 2021 funded research project titled Toilet Talk: Empowering young people in schools to research and talk about toilet issues, led by Dr Charlotte Haines Lyon.
Why are girl things so despised? Consider the derisive response to music girls like, movies and television shows girls watch, social networking sites girls inhabit, activities in which girls engage, and the clothes girls wear. The criticism is always snide and condescending: girl things—which appeal to, attract, star, and represent girls—are considered, at best, vacuous and, at worst, distasteful. In a 1999 article, gender and cultural studies scholar Catharine Driscoll argues anything perceived as a “girl thing” is instantly dismissed without consideration of the importance it might have in the lives of real girls. While the Spice Girls and their fans offer an infamous example of this girl-targeted derision, there are no comparable examples of bashing boy-things; no ubiquitous hatred for boys and their things. Continue reading “The Importance of Girl Things”→
