by Charlie Davis

This post is based on the outcomes of a student-staff partnership project aimed at creating a research-engaged pedagogy to support vocational students develop academic capabilities as they transition into higher education. Our partnership comprised of two staff members and seven students from a range of disciplines and year groups in a UK university. Through our work, which you can read in full here, my colleague, Luke Parmenter (Nottingham Trent University) and I, contributed to conversations that challenge deficit narratives of vocational learners as lacking epistemic credibility when compared to individuals identified as “academic” or “academically minded.”

Every year, in the second week of August, students across the UK receive their Advanced Level qualifications (A-Level) results. A-Levels are post-16 qualifications which are seen as the traditional route into higher education (Gill, 2018). Results Day causes much joy, anxiety, and uncertainty as those students planning to go to university discover if they’ve achieved the points needed for the courses they want to study. The media are always at hand to capture the moment students find out what their grades are, and what life might hold for them going forward. In 2020, however, rather the stock images of jubilant students delighting in the results they received, the media captured the despondency of a generation of students suffering at the hands an unforgiving pandemic.

Owing to social distancing, A-Level examinations, traditionally held in large exam halls, were cancelled. Therefore, results were calculated by an algorithm which predicted grades based on a student’s school ranking in their subject area, their school’s exam performance over the previous three years and a student’s past results in their exam subject. It soon became apparent, however, that the algorithm was less than effective, throwing the lives of some students into turmoil because the results were not what was expected. Mobilized by a collective sense of injustice, students rallied under the clarion call of “F**k the algorithm”. Their protests, and subsequent media coverage, forced the government to abandon the algorithm. However, for many students it was too late as the damage had already done; the places they had been offered subject to their results were no longer guaranteed.

The whole sorry affair highlighted the social inequity which continues to characterise aspects of the UK education system. Predicted grades calculated by the algorithm disadvantaged schools from less-privileged areas because year in, year out, they underperform in comparison to their more affluent counterparts The situation was a bleak reminder, as if it were needed, of the growing gulf of educational imbalance between the haves and have-nots in UK society (Elliot Major and Machin, 2018).

The A-Level catastrophe also illustrated the biases which exist in relation to the degrees of epistemic credibility assigned to different qualifications. In the UK, you’d not be forgiven for thinking that A-Levels were the only Post-16 qualifications in existence, given the exalted position they occupy in the social imagination. However, there are other Post-16 options, such as BTECs (Business and Technology Education Council), often characterized as inferior vocational alternatives to A-Levels (Al Meselmani et al. 2018). The persistent representation of BTECs as A-Level alternatives, reinforces a perception of vocational education as epistemically inferior to its academic counterpart (Wolf, 2011; Reay, 2017). Internet memes liken BTECs to Pepsi and A-Levels to Coca-Cola; the inference being Coca-Cola is of a higher quality than Pepsi (Kelly, 2017). During the A-Level results debacle, it seemed BTEC students, who were waiting on their results too, were forgotten about, because they barely featured in initial media coverage.

BTECs, and other non-A-Level Post-16 qualifications are often labelled non-traditional. So-called non-traditional students are more likely to come from under-represented groups, include students with low socio-economic status, Black, Asian and Minority Ethic (BAME) students, neurodiverse students, Lesbian Bisexual Gay Transgender Queer (LGBT+) students, mature students, individuals from Roma, Gypsy and Traveller groups and disabled students (OfS, 2021). Students identified as non-traditional, such as vocational qualification holders, are more likely to have inadequate access to social, culture and academic resources needed to thrive in Higher Education are limited (Holton, 2018). There are higher dropout rates among vocational qualification holders in Higher Education because they are often not equipped with the knowledge and skills needed to succeed in academic contexts (Katarzi and Hayward, 2020). In response, institutions seek to arrest dropout rates through extra-curricular support to develop the academic capabilities of students flagged up as in danger of exiting their courses. While this can be beneficial, it does little to address the structural injustices excluding these students from earlier access to educational experiences to develop a range of academic capabilities (Haggis, 2006; Smit, 2012). Our study sought to address this issue by creating a research-engaged pedagogy to support BTEC students develop academic capabilities before transitioning to Higher Education.

Working with disequilibrium to foster collectivity  

Embracing a participatory research approach, we worked in partnership with seven multidisciplinary students at a university in the Midlands of England to develop the research-engaged pedagogy. The research process was an experiential one, immersing the participants in a project researching belonging at their institution. As students carried out their research, they reflected on the experience to shape the research-engaged pedagogy for the BTEC students. From the outset, my colleague and I devolved power to the participants in an effort to unsettle traditional staff-student dynamics. In line with methodologies advocating the co-production of knowledge, we created a collective space in which everyone had a say in how the community of inquiry evolved (Banks et al, 2019).

The study took many twists and turns, some of which, particularly in the early stages, were unsettlingly discomforting. For my partner and I, unlearning how to act like teachers was easier said than done. Habits like unconsciously gravitating to the front of the room were hard to jettison. The student partners picked up on this because it contradicted our espoused commitment to share power. Initially, we struggled with the unsettledness, but we soon realised the disequilibrium offered opportunities create a more egalitarian power structure. We created a questioning culture where “dissensus” prompted us to consider other possible ways of thinking and being (Biesta, 2017: 83). Through sharing our vulnerabilities, my partner and I, built trust and reciprocity, which helped create a more equitable inquiry space. We became the “meddler[s]-in-the-middle”, working in collaboration with the students to learning collectively from each other (McWilliam, 2008).

During the study, everyone, in similar and different ways, developed epistemic confidence (Fricker, 2007); whether it was the strength to stand up in a class and share opinions or to contribute knowledge to discussions perceived to be dominated by more privileged individuals. While we experienced quite a few highs, the experience of mobilising the approach with the BTEC students after our initial study reminded us that there is some way to go to implement such approaches in mainstream curricula. Our slow pedagogic approach, fraught with uncertainties and messiness, is at odds with the tidy linear modular processes of outcomes-based models of education; so dominant across hyper-marketized Higher Education landscapes Harland, 2016; Mountz et al., 2015).

The approach we developed is more suited to contexts where smaller groups of individuals devoted to pedagogic activism seek to change aspects of their shared social realities. At the heart of our work, is a commitment to keeping meanings open by questioning what we take for granted as how things are. This can be unsettlingly discomforting at times, but it provides the impetus for critical reflections which can generate knowledge to transform inquiry spaces and ourselves. We continue to take our work in different directions; each project transcending educational spatial boundaries to establish equitable learning opportunities for different social groups, particularly those that are under-represented. In line with a recent UNESCO (2021) report on the futures of education, we hope our work contributes to efforts to generate knowledge aimed at creating a more just world where education is a public good for all.

About the author

Dr. Charlie Davis is an assistant professor in Higher Education at the University of Nottingham, UK. He has been working in Higher Education since 2009, having spent eight years previous to that teaching English to Speakers of Other languages. Charlie’s work facilitates participatory research approaches aimed at co-producing knowledge for social justice purposes. His work seeks to provide participants with opportunities to develop epistemic confidence so they can be heard in situations where their contributions are often silenced as they are viewed as lacking epistemic credibility as knowers. In his research, Charlie utilises a range of life history methods including critical storytelling and other creative methods to support participants generate knowledge. Currently, Charlie is leading a participatory project mobilising critical storytelling methods to provide academics of working-class heritage in elite UK institutions represent their lived experiences on their terms. He is a member of the Collaborative Action Research Network (CARN) and the Association for Working Class Academics (AWCA).