Class divide: why are they better than me?

Photo by Maksim-Smirnov edited with image by Monstera Production both at Pexels

Carmen Francis contemplates the impact of class disparity in British society

It’s easy to feel ‘less than’ when you’re considered working class. A few weeks ago, during an assembly at college, the teacher read out the names of students who’d achieved highest in their subjects. As many of these names popped up, I thought “I know he went to private school… I know she did…” and so on.

Besides comparing my academic achievements, I find myself adopting a different voice as I arrive at college, the voice my grandma calls a ‘telephone voice.’ I pick outfits I hope will make me look more like the other girls, and I try to get the best grades I can so I don’t fit into the working-class stereotype of being ‘stupid’ and ‘lazy’.

While just 6% of our young people go to private school, 47 of the 58 British Prime Ministers were privately educated (over 80%!), as are 66% of CEOs, according to The Guardian, Wikipedia, and People Managing People, respectively. According to Kraus et al., middle and upper class people are more inclined to believe they have control over their futures than those from lower classes, due to an imbalance in the opportunities and resources available to them. How can nearly half the population of Britain, who identify as working class, reported by the Social Mobility Barometer, be motivated to go into business, law or politics, when these fields are so dominated by the privileged?

Class in Britain is a big deal but is often swept under the rug. This class disparity has been perpetuated by successive government’s ‘divide and rule’ tactics. Popular media often promotes the idea that tax rises, healthcare cuts and a lack of affordable housing, which primarily affect the working class, are caused by immigration.

So, the working class, rather than being united and understanding that politicians are ignoring their issues, distance themselves from other members of their social class.

But on a more personal level, how does class affect the way we see ourselves?

I’m white and from a working-class family in Hackney, a diverse London borough where nearly half of the population are from black and global majority groups, according to the 2022 census. In September, when I started at a new college in Finchley, I remember initially noticing that I could only see white people in the lunch queue in front of me.

As time went on, instead of feeling more comfortable than I had at my previous schools, I found myself feeling that I wasn’t ‘one of them’. A boy in one of my classes even told me he was surprised to see a ‘chav’ in the lesson. It began to feel as though I couldn’t compete with the other students because they’re just ‘better’ than me.

So, while it’s 2024, with the rise of internet activism and easy access to current affairs, it seems people should be more informed than to hold these kinds of prejudices. I begin to believe that, if one person can say that, others must surely be thinking the same.

The working class tend to push aside the disadvantages they face as a result of systemic class oppression and prejudiced stereotypes. Instead, we attribute these difficulties to other factors like our appearance, body-language or accent, ignoring our class as the source of discrimination.

This means that class injustice becomes invisible and insidious, our own insecurities feeding into society’s intrinsic classism. It’s important o remind ourselves that it’s other people that may see us as less than. It’s not that we are less than.

By thinking more deeply about class issues and my own relationship to them, I feel more in control of my opportunities. Educating myself on class and making the most of the resources available to me, like writing this article, has broadened my horizons and allows me to see myself at the same level as other young people.