Russell Group universities are a historically exclusive symbol of elitism in Britain’s academia, often associated with class privilege. Students from working-class backgrounds comprise approximately 20% of the undergraduate population across all 24 Russell Group universities, with individuals eligible for free school meals representing less than 4%. The Times UK University Rankings placed Newcastle University 104th for social inclusion, revealing that 22.3% of the University’s students are privately educated despite only making up 7% of British school-age children.
Classist attitudes are nothing new at Newcastle University, as seen in the ‘Posh Vs Poly’ bar crawl, which was a battle of the cities' two universities in which ‘posh’ students would wear distasteful T-shirts that read, ‘Ur dad works for my dad’. Many of these privileged individuals seem to view Northern Universities as playgrounds for reinforcing their superiority; to live it rough and mock the culture they claim to embrace through their charity shop fashion.
Within Newcastle University student culture, there are stereotypes surrounding students who live in Jesmond, Newcastle's student housing hub, being ‘Rahs’ who are characterised by their class affluence. With the local supermarket choice being a Waitrose, Jesmond is a commune for privately educated students to flourish, with overpriced coffee shops and a strip of student bars at their disposal. However, many students paint a romanticised picture of university life in the North, ignoring the harsh truth of poverty and homelessness in nearby areas. The stark contrast between the gentrified atmosphere of Jesmond and the struggles of nearby communities serves as a reminder of the deep-rooted class divisions that persist in the city. The illusion of a charming Northern town distances them from the realities of local working-class communities, reinforcing a sense of privilege.
Beyond the communal residency, class gatekeeping operates through extracurriculars. Society memberships, sports clubs, nights out and end of year balls accumulate to hundreds of pounds annually, expenses that quietly exclude working-class students from where real networking happens. These aren't just frivolous social events;they are where alumni connections are made and where the "university experience" marketed to prospective students occurs. While wealthy students build professional networks and useful future back pocket dials, many working-class students are forced to work part-time jobs to afford granting themselves access to the same rooms.
Being working class at university means you are surrounded by peers discussing how “skint” they are despite having thousands to fall back on in a trust fund ("savings don't count", right?) when working class students carrying the psychological weight of £50k+ debt they will carry for 40 years. It is not an abstract, imaginary problem for our parents, it actively shapes every career decision we make after graduation. I’ve had experience being told I am “lucky” to receive a bursary, yet it feels more like a pitiful compensation for the systemic disadvantages.
Working-class students would benefit more if they were provided with real resources, such as
networking events, industry experience and mentorship, which will put us on the same footing as our wealthier peers when we go into the workforce. Beyond formal, working-class students need guidance on navigating the hidden curriculum: how to approach lecturers for references, how to confidently assert yourself in seminars, understanding LinkedIn. These 'soft skills' are not natural, they are class markers wealthy students inherit from their environment. For first generation students, with no family roadmap to understand the university systems or what a degree guarantees this applies an added pressure to prove social mobility works. We can't simply be average; we must justify our place constantly. It is not an abstract, imaginary problem for our parents, it actively shapes every career decision we make after graduation. One of the most challenging aspects of being a working-class student is the uncertainty of whether we will reap the rewards of our degrees after graduation due to the lack of connections, especially for me in journalism, where individuals from upper-class backgrounds account for 80% of employees, according to the NCTJ.
The Newcastle University class divide is hard to ignore, with data revealing the striking underrepresentation of the working class. The class ceiling won't shatter with modest financial support, the institution must work harder to make the campus a more inclusive and enjoyable space for working-class, local and state-educated students.
Crossing over to the hot lunch queue wasn't the meritocracy I was promised. Real privilege is never having to queue at all. I am graduating into an industry where if lucky, I will be an exception, not a rule. Where my working-class background will be a talking point in diversity meetings but not a reason to restructure who gets hired. University rankings and statistics won't change my lived experience. What students like me need is someone to tell us the system was rigged from the start and teach us how to flip the table entirely.