Sarah McDonald

STEM: What universities could do right now to help first-in-family men succeed

Men from working-class and minority backgrounds are rarely represented in STEM disciplines.   For those who  choose to attend university, we know very little about their experiences or what motivates them.  

Our new data reveals a desire to secure steady employment and break a generational cycle of poverty were contributing factors.

The First-in-Family Males Project

We draw on data from The First-in-Family Males Project where we examined the experiences of males from working-class backgrounds entering higher education. First-in-family students are defined this way: those whose immediate family members have never attended university.

As an equity group, first-in-family students are often from working-class backgrounds, associated with manual labour, vocational trades, or low-skilled jobs.  Reflecting international trends, we know males from first-in-family backgrounds are the least likely to attend higher education in Australia.  The young men in this study attended schools in communities where only a select few would end up pursuing higher education.

Working-class young men in STEM

Within our project, one third of the participants enrolled in science subjects. That suggests masculinity still has a strong association with STEM.  Participants pursued a variety of different STEM-related degrees (e.g., advancedaths, forensic science, civil engineering, IT, etc).  STEM is often characterised as rigorous and competitive. We wanted to see how the aspirations of these young men were formed and maintained as they navigated the systems. When we analysed our results, we identified three key themses influencing their  aspirations: 1) desire for financial stability and fulfilment; 2) internalising pressure; 3) struggles with social acclimatisation to university.

Desire for financial stability and fulfilment

Within studies of the production of  working-class masculine identities, research shows  how these young men have a strong desire to secure forms of reliable employment so they can be the breadwinner. This desire has often kept this population away from university which can sometimes be seen as a more financially risky pathway.   In an increasingly post-industrial economy, traditional forms of working-class male employment are becoming  scarcer.  This is changing how young men see their post-compulsory education options.  

We also saw a desire to uphold the role of breadwinner and  a strong focus on employability with the young men in our study.

“I want to help my family out in the future.”

David: [With STEM] I’ve heard that there will be a lot of jobs available… I come from a poor family, so I want to help my family out in the future. … I guess I’m the one in the family that has to succeed in life I guess, help them out in the future, get us out of where we are right now financially. It’s mostly about the finances, so if I can help out with that, that’s what I want to do.

Besides the desire for financial stability, the first-in-family working-class young men we spoke with focused on self-fulfilment in what they chose to study. As Ruir, who studied in sport science, said:

I don’t want to just look for work because they pay a lot of money. I want something that pays a decent amount of money…. I want to have a secure job. I just don’t want to, like, struggle. I just want to be comfortable…I want something that pays a decent amount of money – but I enjoy waking up to it everyday.

Furthermore, some of the participants’ motivations seemed influenced by the suffering they saw with the older men in their family.

Levi: Without disrespecting my dad, I see him doing a career he doesn’t like. I use that as my motivation…

Internalising pressure

Many students in STEM disciplines find university to be stressful because of to its competitive nature. Students from low socioeconomic backgrounds are often very aware of the financial investment in their degrees and anxious about translating their degrees into secure employment. This adds a significant additional stress.  Data from The First-in-Family Males Project suggests there are various pressures shaping the experience of these young men.  Vuong, studying maths, said money contributed to a feeling of pressure: ‘The money that I – the debt that I have’ where he also said if he did withdraw from university, ‘I’d feel like a failure. I’d feel like my entire world would come toppling down.’   Another student, Ruir, noted:

I feel … pressure … to get my life, the highest I can get.

Isaac describes the pressures of university studies as always present:

Probably, just the 24 … Not 24/7, but constant thinking about uni all the time, and worry, not worrying, but thinking I got to do this, this, this, I still go to do that. I got this coming up. There’s just constant thinking about it all the time. It’s not bell to bell, start the day, do my school work, go home, that’s it.

According to Levi, he describes STEM higher education as:

I definitely think it has been emotional both stress – mix or at … times very stressful. Other times it’s just – it feels like everything’s falling into place and then something else is thrown at me. I definitely think it’s a lot of, it’s up and down, up and down and…

Struggles with social acclimatisation to university

Echoing research on the first-in-family student experience, many felt a struggle to feel a sense of belonging in higher education.  Isolation was a significant theme in the data.  For the boys studying STEM – a field which is still largely dominated by males from middle-class and elite backgrounds – the social context can feel very foreign and unsettling.  In considering how they negotiated a sense of loneliness, we note two main contributing factors: 1) how very few students from their disadvantaged secondary schools attended university and 2) the competitive academic nature of STEM which created social hierarchies anddivisions.

  Highlighting his class disadvantage, Vuong did struggle with the academic demands in STEM. He recognised how he was one of the only students from his secondary school to attend university and thought, ‘if I did this well, and I can match up with these types of students who did a much more higher end type learning in their schools or whatever. [But]and I came from a disadvantaged school’.

Another participant, David, suffered both socially and academically, leading him to eventually drop out:

I was way too behind, so if I maybe prepared better if I prepared better for uni…people … friends. That would make it a lot easier – sporting friends.  

David felt having friends with similar interests would have helped him feel a stronger sense of belonging.

What this tells us about young men in STEM

As policies continue to foreground how educators need to be engaged in raising aspirations for young people from disadvantaged backgrounds, it is important to ask what happens when aspirations are raised and how working-class young people who are first-in-family navigate their studies with limited resources.  

Educational success requires ample resourcing and a lack of resourcing leads to considerable additional pressures.   

The road is not an easy one

The data suggests that for the select few working-class males who choose higher education, the road is not an easy one.  This raises questions about the role of universities in helping students from disadvantaged backgrounds and what support mechanisms would have made the difference. Scholarships would help greatly. Institutions should also acknowledge these young men are in a dramatically different atmosphere compared to their secondary schools.  More targeted and personalised support for non-traditional students has proven effective in many higher educational contexts though, at the same time, many of the participants were reluctant to reach our for assistance.    

To conclude, as these young men navigate the challenges of their STEM degrees, they carry the weight of both personal and generational aspirations, making their success not just a matter of academic achievement but a testament to their resilience in the face of systemic barriers.  

From left to right: Garth Stahl is an associate professor in the School of Education at the University of Queensland. His research interests lie on the nexus of neoliberalism and socio-cultural studies of education, identity, equity/ inequality, and social change. Shaneeza Fugurally is a Masters candidate in the School of Education at the University of Queensland. Yating Hu is a PhD candidate in the School of Education at the University of Queensland. Tin Nguyen is a Masters candidate in the School of Education at the University of Queensland. Sarah McDonald is a lecturer based at the Centre for Research in Education & Social Inclusion in UniSA Education Futures, University of South Australia. Her research interests are in gendered subjectivities, girlhood, social mobility, social barriers, and inequalities in education. 

Palestine: is it possible for teachers to be neutral?

Interest in Palestine amongst students and the wider public raises an age-old question regarding the teaching profession: can educators be neutral and objective? Is it possible for teachers to discuss what is happening right now across the Gaza Strip in ways that maintain an ‘unbiased’ position? 

State governments and conservative commentators have attacked teachers who have shown solidarity with Palestine or have dared to discuss the current genocide in Gaza within schools. The NSW Minister for Education, Pru Carr, has taken issue with teachers who wear Palestinian scarves in schools. She has said, “We rely on them [teachers] to be impartial in the classroom.” Similarly, Victorian Education Minister, Ben Carroll, warned educators about participating in any organised activity in support of Palestine. Carroll stated that ‘teachers in government schools must be unbiased and not have political agendas’. 

Students in Australian schools want to talk about Palestine

For over a year, we have seen school students assemble and actively rally in support of school students in Gaza. Not since the student climate protests have we seen such enthusiasm amongst Australian students. In almost every capital city, and some regional areas, students have participated in strikes in solidarity with Palestinians. In the course of mobilising, we are witnessing students become ‘active and informed’ on Palestine. Yet, school students participating in these strikes have been scolded by politicians and conservative commentators. They have told students to stay in class and ‘educate’ themselves. 

Take the NSW Premier, Chris Minns. He condemned the student strikes, stating: “If you [students] want to change the world, get an education.” A student protesting in Wollongong responded, ‘Because I am educated I am here, because I am informed I am here at this rally … I would love to be at school, I would love for the children of Gaza to be at school’. 

Similarly, hundreds of school students in Melbourne defied the Victorian Education Minister’s condemnation of their strike. The Minister Ben Carroll said students should be in school. A parent of a student protestor responded, “Young people are often presented as being naïve or ignorant and shouldn’t have an opinion when it comes to politics – I disagree.” Another student stated, “They’re not really teaching it in class. So the only way you’re going to find out is if you come to the rallies; educate yourself because you’re not learning any of it at school. It’s not even getting mentioned at school.”

Educators are told to be ‘impartial’ and ‘unbiased’ about Palestine

Similar to students, educators themselves have organised ‘Teachers for Palestine’ groups across NSW and Victoria. These groups have led rallies and held Zoom sessions to discuss incorporating content about Palestine in the curriculum. They have also discussed how to support students currently striking for Palestine. Two major groups include Teachers and School Staff for Palestine – NSW and Teachers/Staff for Palestine in Victoria. In some cases, educators have shown solidarity by openly supporting student strikes and wearing Palestinian Keffiyehs (scarves) or watermelon badges. 

Teacher unions have supported these initiatives and even passed motions that acknowledge the rights of teachers to discuss the current genocide with their students. For example, the NSW Teachers Federation Vice-President pointed out educators have a long history of publicly supporting anti-war and social justice causes. Similarly, the Australian Education Union sent its members a bulletin about the right to respectfully discuss Palestine in classrooms.

Recently, on the eve of ‘R U Ok Day’, the NSW Teachers for Palestine group posted the following:

Teaching is a political act

A common argument for teacher neutrality is that it avoids students being brainwashed. But the purpose of critical approaches to citizenship education is not to tell students what to think. It is to support them to ask questions. When the questions are curtailed, we all lose as a democracy, and we lose the opportunity to challenge injustice.

A second argument for neutrality, or more precisely, silence, is that there is no room for politics in the curriculum. However the Australian Curriculum encourages engagement with the world and with the interests that students bring across multiple subject areas. Recognising what students bring with them to school should include recognising that they are developing an understanding of conflict and politics before they enter the classroom door. There is no point pretending that politics does not exist.

All education is political

We commonly engage initial teacher education students with theories of critical pedagogies. For example, Paulo Freire argued in his landmark book The Pedagogy of the Oppressed that ‘all education is political; teaching is never a neutral act’. Similar words were echoed by bell hooks, who wrote in Teaching to Transgress that ‘no education is politically neutral’. More recently, a pioneer of critical pedagogy Henry Giroux wrote: “Those arguing that education should be neutral are really arguing for a version of education in which no one is accountable.”

Teachers are citizens and workers. They have political opinions and many are members of labour organisations. They are also responsible for helping their students to become informed, questioning and critical citizens. Pressure from educational authorities for teachers to hide their beliefs and opinions is damaging for both students and teachers.

Governments are keen to avoid political or politicised topics. Their eyes are more firmly on  negative media attention than on ethical considerations. A slippery standard is therefore applied. Almost any topic can become politicised or attract media attention, which makes schools increasingly timid. And attempts to silence discussion are applied unevenly even with similar issues. The wars in Ukraine and Gaza have been treated very differently by governments and inside schools, despite the fact that both have similarities in raising sensitive issues of conflict and trauma.

The teaching profession cannot be neutral, unbiased nor objective

As citizens, teachers and students take on multiple roles. They constantly give off signals about their beliefs, even if in subtle or unrecognised ways. As long as these support the status quo, they are unquestioned. But when they go against the status quo, there is a need to make claims on the rights that all students and teachers have to express themselves. A long tradition in critical scholarship shows that ‘apolitical education’ is a myth. What is often framed as ‘neutrality’ and ‘objectivity’ within education systems stems from Eurocentric white supremacy. 

Palestine presents us with a reminder that education can never be neutral. As outlined previously, many teachers and students wish to engage in discussions about Palestine. The Australian curriculum presents many opportunities despite the condemnation that various Education Ministers have offered. It is this contradiction that affirms how neutrality in the context of an on-going genocide, live streamed to the social media devices of our students can be one that supports it, as Paulo Freire himself once said, ‘Washing one’s hands of the conflict between the powerful and the powerless means to side with the powerful, not to be neutral’. 

From left to right: Ryan Al-Natour works as a lecturer in teacher education at Charles Sturt University on Wiradjuri Country. He is written widely about antiracist teaching, social justice pedagogies and Indigenous education. Joel Windle is an associate professor of education at the University of South Australia. He has undertaken research on educational inequalities and community activism in Australia and Brazil. Sarah McDonald is a lecturer based at the Centre for Research in Education & Social Inclusion at the University of South Australia where she conducts research in the areas of gendered subjectivities, social mobility, social barriers, and inequalities in education.

What happens now to students who are first-in-family to go to university?


Students who are the first in their family to attend university remain severely under-represented, despite policy efforts to widen participation in Australian higher education.  Many first-in-family students come from low socioeconomic backgrounds, and, as a result, there has been extensive focus on how social class influences their experiences at university. However, there has been significantly less attention to the role that gender plays.

We conducted a study with 48 first-in-family students over three years – the First-in-Family Project – documenting their transition from secondary school into university.  They came from ethnically diverse backgrounds and were recruited from across state, independent and faith-based secondary schools. All participants presented as cis-gender. The research focused on their experiences in higher education and how their aspirations changed in relation to such experiences. 

In our research, published in Gendering the First-in-Family Experience: Transitions, Liminality and Performativity (Routledge, 2022), we found that during the transition to university, many of the participants questioned the gender norms of their school and family environments.  It is at university where many first-in-family students are first exposed to a diversity of gender identities which often contrast the gender identities present in their secondary schools. Some students spoke of the pressure they felt during secondary school to be a particular type of girl or boy, while they felt there were fewer constraints at university.  

Of the 48 participants, 9 withdrew from university, 7 chose not to attend, and 2 deferred. We found that very few of our participants enrolled in elite sandstone institutions. Instead, most participants chose to attend universities close to home. We were interested in the role gender played in the first-in-family experience, and focused on three areas: gender and the family; gender and influential teachers; gender and mental health.

Gender and the family

Our research found that families of first-in-family students are supportive of their children’s education. Still, they do not necessarily have sufficient knowledge of higher education to be able to give advice about navigating the system.  Instead, families focused on emotionally supporting students; extended family members were often influential and an important resource when first-in-family students struggled.

We also found that family life and expectations were significantly gendered.  Mothers were more often the primary resource in terms of emotional support for the participants. In contrast, fathers were less involved. This was especially true for the girls in the study, where part of what formed their aspirations for university was their desire to experience the opportunities and futures their mothers were denied. The boys in the study wanted to be seen as independent in their decision-making, while this was less apparent for the girls. Ultimately, all students in the study saw their lives as filled with more opportunities than their parents. 

Gender and influential teachers

Close relationships with secondary school teachers informed the aspirations of first-in-family students – but these relationships were gendered as well.  While all participants could point to specific teachers from their secondary school who had been pivotal in supporting them to reach their goals of attending university, there were notable differences based on gender.  For example, the boys tended to inhabit an identity centred around effortless achievement – of having a chilled or relaxed disposition – and sought out teachers who could push them.  In contrast, most girls portrayed themselves as ‘work-focused’ and diligent in their studies and forged relationships with teachers they perceived to be nurturing. 

Gender and mental health

Within research on first-in-family students, there has recently been increased attention to how struggles with mental health may impact their experiences. Research in Australian higher education has found these students rated financial concerns, time management, lack of sleep, and the demands around assessment as having a significant impact on their mental health. Within our study, over 40 per cent of young women presented a mental health issue while just under four percent of young men did. While the girls were open about their mental health concerns from the onset, over the course of the research, the young men began to either experience poor mental health for the first time or became more open with us about their mental health. 

Policy Implications: Improving the first-in-family experience

Drawing on our research, we seek to make recommendations at the policy level and for educators working in both secondary and higher education. 

Highlighting the role of gender, the boys seemed to suffer more from a lack of time management skills, which did not seem as much of a concern for the girls. Instead, the girls were more apprehensive about their ability to succeed when there was less access to personalised one-on-one support at university than they had experienced in high school.  

Furthermore, in terms of mental health, the girls in the First-in-Family Project were more open about their struggles with mental health. This highlights the gendering of mental health and how support services may need to be more attuned to gender differences for students from non-traditional backgrounds.

For those working in higher education, it is also important to note that many participants struggled to integrate socially with other university students who were mainly from middle-class backgrounds.  They found the experience isolating, and they doubted themselves.  There were few examples of students taking pride in their first-in-family status.  This was compounded by how many participants experienced confusion over pragmatics (e.g. timetables, scheduling, commuting) and how to navigate and conduct themselves at university. To conclude, while investments in widening participation are to be commended, the struggles of first-in-family students highlight how more can be done to familiarise students from disadvantaged backgrounds with what university entails.

Garth Stahl is an associate professor in the School of Education at the University of Queensland. His research interests lie on the nexus of neoliberalism and socio-cultural studies of education, identity, equity/inequality, and social change. Currently, his research projects encompass theoretical and empirical studies of learner identities, sociology of schooling in a neoliberal age, educational reform and gendered subjectivities.

Sarah McDonald is a Lecturer based at the Centre for Research in Education & Social Inclusion in UniSA Education Futures, University of South Australia. Her research interests are in gendered subjectivities, girlhood, social mobility, social barriers, and inequalities in education.