Tag: gap

  • It’s time to decolonise the awarding gap

    It’s time to decolonise the awarding gap

    Universities and academics working towards racial justice and inclusion education focus their efforts on closing ethnicity awarding gaps, a measure of systematic inequality in student outcomes.

    While addressing these inequalities are essential, the concept of the awarding gap itself — particularly when it relates to race — carries problematic assumptions that undermine the broader efforts to address systemic inequities.

    Before going forward, It is important to acknowledge that decolonisation is a controversial concept in its own right. I write from the perspective of UK HE, where decolonisation is a commonly used term. My perspective is therefore through the lens of the coloniser, not the colonised, and informed primarily by the legacy of historical British colonial activity. The issues may differ in the context of colonial expansion by other European powers.

    Many contemporary global conflicts are colonial in nature, so I also recognised that for many these issues represent lived experience and ongoing trauma. However, the language of decolonisation is widespread in contemporary HE, so I use this term while acknowledging its limitations and tensions.

    The awarding gap explained

    The awarding gap measures the disparity in first class and upper second class degree outcomes, typically expressed as the percentage difference between the groups. For example, if 75 per cent of white students and only 60 per cent of Asian students earn a first or a 2:1, the Asian awarding gap is 15 per cent. In the UK the global majority awarding gap is widespread and stubbornly persistent. At sector level, there is a 18.5 per cent Black awarding gap and 5.7 per cent Asian awarding gap, and progress on the issue is notoriously slow.

    The awarding gap can have a significant impact on student futures. If employers require at least a 2:1 then there will be an inevitable bias against Black and Asian graduates in the workplace. Inequity in undergraduate degree outcomes also restricts access to postgraduate education, reinforcing the loss of global majority talent. Addressing the awarding gap is therefore essential not only for equity of student outcomes, but also for increasing diversity within HE and the graduate workforce.

    The colonial origins of awarding gap language

    While the awarding gap metric is crucial for highlighting disparities, it is also fraught with issues. The terminology used to describe racial disparities in HE, such as “BAME” (Black, Asian, and minority ethnic), is highly contested. The UK government has abandoned “BAME” in favour of more nuanced categories, and HE should do the same. I prefer the term “global majority students,” following Rosemary Campbell-Stephens, but acknowledge that even this term may be problematic.

    The racial categories used in HE such as “Black” and “Asian,” also have deeply problematic origins that many may be unaware of. These can be traced back to the groundbreaking work on biological classification of Carl Linneas, who as well as classifying plants and animals proposed “scientific” groupings of humans along racial lines. His 1735 work ‘Systema naturae’ classified humans into Europaeus albus (European white), Americanus rubescens (American reddish), Asiaticus fuscus (Asian tawny) and Africanus niger (African black). These were placed into a racial hierarchy, with “Africanus niger” at the bottom.

    These groupings were accompanied with highly offensive descriptions; Africanus niger was described as “lazy … sly, sluggish,” while Asiaticus fucus were considered “stern, haughty, greedy.” These categories, based on pseudoscientific ideas of race, underpinned centuries of discrimination and oppression. Although modern genetics has debunked the notion of biological races, HE institutions continue to use similar categories, perpetuating a colonial mindset.

    Contemporary issues with the awarding gap

    The contemporary use of these terms also creates significant issues both practically and philosophically. For instance, the term “Asian” in the UK awarding gap context as defined by the Office for Students refers to UK-born or educated students of Asian heritage, not international students from Asia. This exclusion of international students from the awarding gap is justified by linking the metric to home undergraduate tuition fees, but it also reflects a colonial mindset where non-UK students’ outcomes are disregarded, despite their financial contributions.

    Within home student data, crude categorisation also causes issues. For instance, Chinese students have higher outcomes than Pakistani and Bangladeshi students, yet they are all grouped under “Asian” in many HE metrics (although some institutions have started to disaggregate this data). Similarly, the term “white” encompasses diverse groups, including Gypsy, Roma, and Traveller communities, who are among the most excluded from education in the UK but are aggregated into “white”. These administrative categories erase the nuances and intersections of race, culture, and socio-economic background, which may compromise the effectiveness of interventions.

    The grouping inherent in the awarding gap model often reinforces deficit thinking, where students from underrepresented racial groups are viewed as lacking in some way. The assumption is that global majority students are underperforming, but we should also question whether it is white students that are systematically over-rewarded by HE institutions. While the language shift from “attainment gap” to “awarding gap” is a step towards acknowledging institutional bias, much more needs to be done.

    A 2021 analysis of UK Access and Participation Plans found that most interventions focused on student finance or study skills support, rather than examining institutional processes like assessment and grading. This approach perpetuates the idea that the problem lies with the students, not the institutions.

    Decolonising the awarding gap

    To address these issues, I propose six strategies for decolonising the awarding gap:

    1. Be critical of the metric itself: We need to question the construction of the awarding gap metric, particularly its use of crude categories and hierarchical assumptions. The current framework oversimplifies the complexities of race and ethnicity, leading to ineffective solutions.
    2. Disaggregate data: Institutions should disaggregate ethnicity data into the most nuanced categories possible while maintaining statistical validity. Intersectional analysis should be incorporated to capture the full scope of students’ experiences and identities.
    3. Move beyond “gap gazing”: Simply identifying the gap is not enough. We need a qualitative understanding of why these gaps exist, grounded in the lived experiences of students. And more importantly to act with urgency, not to wait for more data.
    4. Avoid deficit models: Interventions should focus on changing university processes, pedagogies, and assessment methods to be more inclusive for all students, rather than assuming that certain groups are inherently deficient.
    5. Involve students: Students must be integral to efforts to address the awarding gap. Institutions should work “with” students, not “for” them, ensuring that their voices are central in both understanding the gap and designing solutions.
    6. Engage senior leaders: Institutional leaders must take an active role in addressing the awarding gap. This work cannot be seen as a box-ticking exercise; it requires a deep understanding of the issues and a commitment to systemic change.

    The awarding gap, as currently constructed, is a flawed and crude tool for addressing racial disparities in HE. Its colonial underpinnings and reliance on outdated racial categories reinforce the very inequalities we aim to dismantle. To make meaningful progress towards racial justice in education, we must critically engage with the metrics we use and adopt more nuanced, inclusive approaches.

    Only by decolonising the awarding gap can we begin to address the deep-seated inequities in HE and create a more just educational system for all.

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  • The class gap in the civic map

    The class gap in the civic map

    Albert Hill Working Men’s Club and Institute has played an important role in my life.

    It’s the place where my parents had their wedding reception. My christening party was held in its concert room. Friends of mine, uncles, and acquaintances, have had their wakes with luke warm pork-pies and pints of Magent in the bar. The day I got my membership to the club was a milestone into adulthood and at thirty one I suspect I am still the youngest member.

    Temperance and temperament

    The working man’s club emerged through colliding strains of the temperance movement as an alternative to the gin bars of the 1800s, the rise of the industrial working classes and their desire for betterment, and as a hub for leisure, sports, lectures, and other recreational activity. In university parlance we often talk of local catalysts but Albert Hill has maintained a generation of allotments for leek growing competitions, brought money into local economies through the touring domino tournaments, and kept hundreds if not thousands of self-employed singers, caterers, and turns in business.

    And they would not be pretentious enough to call themselves it but it is a civic institution. As the writer Devika Rao has said on the decline of these kinds of third spaces that are neither home nor work “Where do you go if you are not at school, work or home? For some, the answer is, well, nowhere.” The civic agenda does not quite know how to deal with these kinds of third spaces.

    It’s not that universities are not doing things which directly benefit the drinkers of Albert Hill. Universities are providing nursery places, improving school performance, supporting sustainability projects, and much more between. These things are exceptionally valuable, if executed well will change a place, and in an era of constrained university spending are admirable. At the same time, like the temperance campaigners of the 1800s, projects can sometimes feel like telling a general population to know what is good for them. As recent polling by Public First demonstrates a plurality of the public know not much or very little about what their local university does for the local area.

    Further research by Public First shows people see the place where they live as the locus of their identity. Not the United Kingdom, not England, and certainly not Europe, but the actual places they live. The very idea of levelling up (remember that) is tied to both a desire to revitalise a place and an industrial heritage in places that have been left ashore with the tides of globalisation.

    People and their place

    The challenge is that universities are not just local institutions but global ones. Inevitably, this means that they will do things which are unfamiliar to populations that are less internationally mobile. David Goodhart, once darling of the liberal media now feted immigration sceptic, may argue this is the divide between nowheres and somewheres. The somewheres being people rooted in their local places, often not university educated, with small c conservative views. The nowheres being the mobile, less rooted, and highly educated. If the civic agenda is anything it is an attempt to bridge the education faultline through the university.

    This also means that universities do university coded things in their civic agenda. There is not a focussed civic university agenda about revitalising and supporting working men’s clubs, snooker halls, pubs, places of worship, community centres, small music venues, local football teams, or, to a lesser extent, saving the local high street. It’s legitimate to argue that this isn’t the business of universities but this is no more or less true than partnering with the local museum, art gallery, or literature festival.

    And this is perhaps the second challenge. Value, and the things worth spending public money on that aren’t education and teaching, are often middle class coded. This isn’t to say universities aren’t minded of their impacts on working-class communities. From supporting a just transition, to school programmes, free nursery places, and so on, they clearly are. It’s more that the kind of intangible, culturally coded, doing nice things for an area, can feel middle class.

    Again, to be absolutely clear, it’s not that working-class people don’t enjoy literature, art, and culture. This is obviously the case and it’s tedious to suggest otherwise. It’s more about the range of things universities choose to invest in. And, whisper it, it’s because many of these working-class spaces are also full of people who share views that are anathema to universities. They are often less in favour of immigration, less socially liberal, and more opposed to high levels of public spending on the things universities do. To organise in those spaces is to not organise with people that aren’t aware of universities but with people that are aware of universities and simply don’t always like them that much.

    Pot and trench leeks

    This leaves the fundamental challenge of the extent to which universities responsibility extends to areas where they have no direct mission, with individuals that may never join in their activity, and with activities they do not have the cultural cache to do authentically. Even if universities thought maintaining a working-class culture was their role it’s not even that clear what they would actually do.

    Ambiguity doesn’t mean universities can vacate the space. The politics of young white men is flipping the political map. We know there is an increasing pull toward the far right, they are less likely to receive a university education than nearly any other group, and they are more likely to stay in the places they were born. To entirely leave this space is to say universities have no place in their lives which is to tacitly acknowledge that universities’ civic commitments are partial.

    Universities also cannot dictate the civic institutions they have. It’s not their role to tell their populations where to work, live, love, study, enjoy their time, and just hang out. The role of the civic university agenda is not to extend the university into the world but to extend the world into the university. The people who have the most to gain from universities being civically involved are often the least likely to know what the university is or what it does.

    The civic agenda has spurred universities toward a greater consciousness of their places and achieved practical things. The way activities are coded is not to say that these activities are not valuable but it is to say that the authorial intent of civic agendas of economic growth and cultural enrichment hit the reality of communities that feel alienated from institutions generally not just the university.

    If universities are to lead on growth and capture momentum with this new government they have to demonstrate they can support growth everywhere. The success of the civic agenda is not just about days spent in museums, hours of tutoring, or student spending. It is also whether the people that once felt like their university had nothing for them now does.

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