From care to caring. Using Bourdieu to explore care experienced students journeys into and through nurse education

ABSTRACT

Care experienced students are among the least represented university students and are more likely to undertake vocational courses in post-92 universities. This study aims to provide insight into understanding more about the journeys of five care experienced students into, through and beyond nurse education. Data was collected using individual narrative interviews and was analysed thematically using Bourdieu’s theory of practice. The findings reveal that primary and secondary habitus are important in shaping aspirations for university, but equally work on the self-helped the students accumulate academic capitals which enabled them to enter the university field. Whilst there remains debate about the extent to which vocational education challenges structural inequality, for these five students their nurse education had a transformational impact and allowed them to achieve their aspirations of joining the nursing profession and move from care to caring.

KEYWORDS:

• Narrative
• Bourdieu
• habitus
• capitals
• field
• care experienced students
• university
• nursing

Introduction

Looked after care is that which is provided or supervised via local authorities providing a statutory safety net for children whose birth parents are unable to care for them and/or who are at risk of suffering, or may be suffering, serious neglect or abuse (Harrison 2017). The most frequent reason (over 62% of cases) for entering care is abuse or neglect, comprising a range of reasons including, but not exclusively or independently, domestic abuse, sexual abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse, and neglect. Any child entering the looked after care system does so because of the significant risk or harm they have been exposed to (National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children 2018). Entering care is thought to remove risk but the transition and experience of the care system can be traumatic. A growing body of research, including seminal work by Jackson, Ajayi, and Quigley (2005) and more recently Harrison (2017) refers to a range of issues, which impact on the educational and life trajectories of those in care and care leavers. These include tensions in the placement setting, changes in placement, professionals, and schools, often resulting in poor educational attainment, with those in care or care experienced experiencing much higher rates of exclusion and absence from school than their peers, making them the lowest performers in compulsory education (Department for Education 2018). 24–27% of the adult prison population have been in care; 20% of young homeless people have been in care; 70% of sex workers have been in care and a common feature of this group is the lack of educational or vocational skills and qualifications with 40%, between the ages of 19–21 not in employment, education, or training (Department for Education 2018). Therefore, it is not surprising that CE students (CES) are among the least represented groups in university settings (BECOME 2018). Whilst the much-cited statistic of 6% of those with CE enter higher education (HE) is now closer to 13%, there remains a 30% gap in representation between CES and their peers and this has widened by around 5% since 2009/10 (Harrison 2020).

Recent years have shown increasing interest in the experiences of CES in HE, notably the seminal work of Dr Neil Harrison (2017, 2019, 2020). Harrison’s (2019) work shows that many CES enter university without standard A Level qualifications, 15% (3 times the average) have qualifications below level 3 or complete Access to HE courses, and they are much less likely to attend elite universities, although many studies do not give detail about the institution or programme of study. Where this is mentioned, it is noted that CES tend to select vocational courses, in post-92 institutions (Jackson and Cameron 2012). This study focuses on a particular group of CES who are studying nurse education in the Northeast of England.

Theoretical framework

The study draws on Bourdieu’s theory of practice which attempts to reconcile the dualities of structure versus agency referring to the interconnections with practice, habitus, and forms of capital and social fields (Bourdieu 1984, 1990). This theory is based on the premise that the actions of social groups are not simply the aggregate of individual behaviours, but are influenced by culture, traditions, and the objective structures in society. Bourdieu broadly referred to practice as being a core feature of social life, characterised by attention to logic, flow and contest of practical activities and their place in time, explained as:

‘[(habitus) (capital)] + field = practice’ (Bourdieu 1984, 101).

Bourdieu (1984) explains habitus as a product of a person’s own history, whereby the conditions of existence are internalised and converted into a disposition that generates meaningful practices and meaning giving perceptions; thus, social, and cultural messages shape individuals’ thoughts and actions. Primary habitus, or what Bourdieu (1984) refers to as habitus de classe, is initially developed in the home setting, where the values and practices of parents during childhood, as well as their social position and status shape that of the child. In families, children learn their place in society; they learn to value certain forms of culture that are socially esteemed in the education system, and this applies to those who find them available and attainable, as well as those to whom they are remote and unattainable (English and Bolton 2016).

Secondary habitus develops through exposure to institutions such as schools and universities, as well as life experience (Burnell 2015). Here, educators are considered gatekeepers to enabling knowledge and the nature of support and encouragement given to individuals, as well as the institutional habitus, can shape the way individuals think and the aspirations they have; this has more impact in the absence of primary habitus and situations where young people do not have positive educational influences from family and social contacts.

Bourdieu’s taxonomy of capital positions capital as a resource employed in determining power and control of social resources and social reproduction (Webb et al. 2017). Those with economic capital can invest in the best schooling, are more able to access the best university education and are thus likely to yield the best jobs on completion. Cultural capital consists of class-specific internalised ways of thinking and being that are reproduced inter-generationally within families, helping middle-class students move more easily into, within and through university (Patiniotis and Holdsworth 2005). Social capital for Bourdieu operates as a mechanism for social reproduction, using networks, contacts, and social relations to maximise individual and communal gain. Finally, symbolic capital is used by Bourdieu to explain the way certain forms of capital are viewed in society, so the values attached to particular qualifications and institutions; essentially all forms of capital are symbolic (James 2011). It is these that give recognition, prestige and ultimately, power and consequently symbolic appropriation of capitals is more important than simply possession of them.

Fields are broad social and structural domains that shape habitus and determine what counts as valuable capital. Field is closely entwined with the concepts of habitus and capital and Bourdieu argues that they cannot be considered separately (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992). Whilst habitus affects possessed and pursued capital, this capital can only be measured in the context of the field (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992), which in this case refers to the HE field. Bathmaker (2015) uses the concept of field to think with and beyond Bourdieu. Within her work she questions the changing nature of the HE field, particularly in the context of widening participation and the massification of university education, which has brought about diversity in relation to the student population, but also forms of HE and routes into HE via access courses and vocational routes. Here, this produces tensions in the field between traditional universities, new (post-92) universities and other providers of HE, as well as forms of vocational higher education. As such, Bathmaker questions whether university is a distinct field or a hybrid space with sub-fields representing different forms of HE each with different rules, social esteem, and function. For those who enter a sub-field aligned with their habitus it is more likely that they will understand the rules of the game and enjoy success, however, for those who do not or who have been nurtured in one sub-field and move to another, their ways of thinking, being and doing may be challenged (Bathmaker 2015). The value of thinking with and beyond Bourdieu is to consider the shifting nature of field, how individuals access the field, as well as their position in the field. Here, as educators, we must also consider our role in shaping the field in terms of our taken for granted approach to sorting students for different forms of HE through our direction, support, and formal processes such as admissions procedures. Consideration must be given to the extent to which expansion of the sector improves overall life chances and reduces or maintains and produces new forms of inequality (Bathmaker 2017).

Methods

The study was granted ethical approval from Durham University and conducted in accordance with British Educational Research Association (British Educational Research Association 2011) guidelines. There is discrepancy in the literature about what constitutes a sensitive research topic, but it is important to accept that asking for stories relating to care experience has potential to generate powerful and difficult emotions. Here, those taking part were all over 18, none were deemed adults at risk, as determined by safeguarding guidance (National Health Service England 2017), and in their capacity as nursing students, were deemed to have capacity to decide whether (or not) to take part (British Educational Research Association 2011). They were given the opportunity to debrief with the researcher at the end of the interview, as well as being given information about student support and well-being services in their respective universities should they feel they needed additional support, including the named contact for CES.

Using an experience centred narrative approach, outlined in the work of Riessman (2008) and Squire (2013), I focused on narratives of journeys into and through university and how they were used to express and build personal identity and agency (Squire 2013), but also to examine how students looked back, looked to the present and to the future; the temporality of narrative research (Clandinin and Connelly 2000). Temporality is one of the commonplaces of narrative research, alongside place (university in this study) and sociality.

Data was collected from five nursing students in post-92 universities in the Northeast of England in 2018–19 alongside recruitment to ensure the chance to capture the stories of those consenting to take part were not missed. For this paper, they will be referred to by the pseudonyms Kelly, Kimberley, Lily, Zoe, and Connie. Whilst purposive in essence, recruitment followed a flexible approach. Kelly (aged 40) and Kimberley (aged 32) were recruited following distribution of an electronic flyer via the designated team for care experienced students at each university. Zoe (aged 20) and Connie (aged 48) agreed to take part after receiving a paper flyer distributed by hand at each of the university campuses and Lily (aged 21) agreed to take part after a colleague (a lecturer at one of the Northeast universities) opportunistically mentioned the study to her. Kelly and Zoe were studying adult nursing programmes, Connie -a post-registration specialist nursing qualification at degree level, Kimberley was a student mental health nurse and Lily was studying children’s nursing. The numbers taking part in the study were small, but this reflects the under-representation of CES in HE, the specific focus on nursing students and the nature of much narrative research. It is not surprising that the students were female, as men are generally under-represented in nursing (Whitford et al. 2020). They described their ethnic origin as White British and all were first-generation students who commuted to university and had both grown up and resided in the Northeast of England.

The students were interviewed twice in private study rooms on their university campuses at their request. Second interviews allowed for space in between for both the student and I to reflect on what had been said and to add more detail or clarify points. Each interview lasted approximately 1 h and was recorded and transcribed verbatim and verified for accuracy by each of the students. The interviews began with a broad opening question focused on how and why they entered university (Wengraf 2001). This enabled the storyteller to influence the story, but also focused on the research aims. A further question ‘tell me about your experience at university’ was used if needed and supported with questions based on the narrative, such as ‘what happened then?’, synonymous with the approach outlined by Giovanna, Chiara, and Chiara (2019). Here, the interview opens the space for narration but is facilitated by active listening and open questions based on the content of the story. A criticism and strength of narrative research is the relationship between the researcher and narrator and how this opens a space to seek and grasp stories. It is not possible to bracket the researcher out of the inquiry, instead attention must be paid to the relational process and acceptance that the researcher is complicit in the world they study (Riessman 2008). I was conscious that any physical or verbal signs of affirmation may further open or restrict the narrative. Such challenges are apparent generally in interview-based qualitative research. Whilst they cannot be removed it is important to accept reality itself is dynamic and subjective (Clandinin and Connelly 2000) and the process of reflection on experience may change the meaning and importance attached to it, but, equally, may bring to light untold details of past events (Riessman 2008).

Data analysis was a complex and interwoven process, beginning during interviewing and transcribing and the product of working with the narrators checking, and confirming that transcriptions were accurate and then reading and re-reading to identify themes and sub-themes. The process was in essence deductive, reflected in the theoretical framework producing themes of habitus, capitals, field and beyond the field. However, emphasis was on preserving the subjective nature of experience, representing the students as individuals, and not simply reducing them into thematic categories (Riessman 2008). The themes involved looking back, looking to the present and to the future – the temporality that is central to narrative research (Clandinin and Connelly 2000).

Findings and discussion

Habitus

The students felt unprepared for starting school and cited issues including lack of stimulation and support for education. Zoe felt ‘behind other pupils’ and Connie recalled being ‘scared of mixing’ resulting from her early life experience. Low levels of parental educational attainment were mentioned; Kelly indicated her mother had ‘no qualifications what so ever’, whilst Lily’s mother had a ‘mild learning disability’. None of the parents worked and were reliant on social benefits. To compound this, the students described various forms of neglect and abuse (including sexual abuse in Lily and Kelly’s interviews) within their narratives. It is notably difficult to make direct causal links between specific types of experience of abuse and neglect and long-term outcomes and there is differential susceptibility (Woolgar 2013; Wilkinson and Bowyer 2017). However, it is recognised that such experiences can interfere with neurological development (Bick and Nelson 2017), as well as language and communication skills and emotional and behavioural development (Wilkinson and Bowyer 2017).

Exposure to schooling (secondary habitus) shaped the aspirations of the students differently. Lily enjoyed school, describing it as ‘a safety net’ from the neglect of her mother and chaos of her homelife stating she had been in ‘all of the top groups’. However, moving into care led to frequent changes (six) in placement and school and ‘rebellion’ against the moves imposed on her, whereby she became disruptive in the classroom and in her placements. Lily felt this rebellion gave her a sense of control but looking back recognised it had impacted on her success at school. Following one school change she was automatically ‘put in all the lower sets’ for teaching, which she felt added to her frustration. Lily had the academic capital to enter the higher sets, but was denied this because of her care status, and interestingly none of the adults/professionals in her life objected to this. This reflects the symbolic and actual violence of the education system, which operates as a mechanism for social and cultural reproduction, reinforcing dominant norms (Bourdieu 1990). Entering care generated a change in teacher’s perceptions of her:

Lily: ‘it was quite difficult because people would say – oh she’s in care [… .] they always say that people who are in care don’t necessarily do well in school and one teacher said to me – Oh you’re not going to go anywhere – you’re just going to end up in prison – a teacher saying that – so I’m just kind of like – if I could just see him now I’d like give him the finger’

Connie felt schooling was not emphasised enough by professionals in her life and the emphasis was simply on ‘finding a placement’ and Kimberley noted the specific impact of her care status:

Kimberley: ‘I think there was teachers who looked down on you … My maths teacher, in one of my reports “don’t expect anything remarkable from Kimberley” and I passed and got a grade C’.

Kimberley had two foster placements, the second of which, she remained in for over 6 years before leaving care:

Kimberley: ‘I always knew my place in the family was as a foster child and I was happy with that, but they gave us enough of what I needed to function and at least feel part of something’.

Kimberley referred to low confidence and self-esteem, compounded by pre-care experience, but also a sense of insecurity and feeling of otherness in the foster family setting. She noted that she was different to her peers who had ‘parents rooting for them’ and felt her post-school options were limited by the emphasis her foster carers placed on her becoming independent and finding work and accommodation after leaving school; again, differing from her peers.

For these three students their secondary habitus was characterised by disruption to their home lives and their education. Zoe indicated that doing ‘OK’ was acceptable. The students ascribed the labelling and low expectations to their care status but the fact they were from socio-economically deprived backgrounds, attending state schools is also likely to impact on educational attainment and aspirations (Bathmaker 2015). What is of concern is that the professionals and adults in the lives of these young people did not prioritise their education beyond ensuring they attended school.

Kelly differed in that she considered going into care as being a positive turning point:

Kelly: “So the turnaround in foster care … . probably ‘cause someone took an interest in me … helped me a lot more […] they were brilliant at supporting me. It’s the best thing that has ever happened; I wouldn’t have got my GCSE’s [had she not entered care].”

After suffering extensive sexual abuse, perpetrated by her father and what she described as absent parenting from her mother, she was provided with a secure foster home where she felt safe, supported, and valued. As outlined above, this helped change her behaviour and engagement at school, improving her attainment. Her foster carers were well-educated professionals, and their own children were at university. So, Kelly began to embrace the values of her environment producing aspirations to succeed academically (Bathmaker 2015). Jackson, Ajayi, and Quigley (2005) refer to the remedial effect of stable placements and schools for those in care, but also that foster carers who are well-educated are more likely to promote this in those they care for. It is difficult to determine to what extent Kelly’s turning point was influenced by the security and quality of her placement or the support for her education, but this does link to wider debates around whether foster carers should be required to have minimum formal academic qualifications (White et al. 2015), as well as highlighting a gap in terms of professionals prioritising education and the need for stability in schools and placements.

Capital

All the students mentioned aspirations for university. Zoe passed her GCSEs and went to college after leaving school, but Kimberley and Connie left school with few or no (Connie) qualifications and so did not have the required academic capitals to enter the HE field. Lily passed her GCSEs but struggled to adapt to college life and left to work in a local supermarket. However, this produced what Stahl (2015) refers to as a cleft habitus.

Lily: ‘I was going to work on the bus crying my eyes out […] I don’t want to be a sales assistant for the rest of my life’.

Similar points were made by Connie, Kimberley, and Kelly, who found their jobs unfulfilling, but due to financial commitments and lack of relevant qualifications, did not have the educational or economic capital to enter HE.

Connie: “For people like me, it just never, well it wasn’t part of life.

I remember when I left school it was just really about getting a job and earning some money and so university wasn’t […] because I left school with nothing – no qualifications – then I wouldn’t be able to do that anyway. So, I just, well one of my friends got me a job in a local supermarket – so I just stayed in that really”.

Connie’s reference to ‘people like me’ underlines her acceptance of what Bourdieu (1984, 471) refers to as a ‘sense of one’s place’. Here based on her prior social and cultural experience going to university was not the norm, but equally, grounded in the logic of necessity (Bourdieu 1990) resulting from her academic capital she felt her options were limited. It was by chance that she found out it was possible to sit an entry test (the Dennis Child/DC Test) for nurse training for those who did not have the required five Ordinary Levels (Kevern, Ricketts, and Webb 2001), which she passed. Connie described her nurse training as hospital based and vocational rather than academic. Determined to progress in her career, she completed continuing professional development modules at Level 6, in a Further Education college, to gain a place at university. Connie’s entry to the HE field reflects the complicated and lengthened journeys into university outlined in Harrison’s (2017) work, but equally, the hybridity of the field and sub-field of vocational HE (Bathmaker 2015) presented opportunities that she may otherwise not have had to engage in further studies and develop within her professional role.

Immediately after leaving college Kelly applied for nursing, however this initial experience of university proved unsuccessful and she was asked to leave the course, being unable to meet the academic requirements. This reflects the findings in Harrison’s (2017) study where academic failure is one of the most common reasons for attrition in care leavers at university. It was apparent that the legacy of her care experience meant she could not engage with the subjects she was being assessed on. These subjects included assignments, which she brought to her interview, that focussed on the family and on identity:

Kelly: ‘I’ve put a line there about child abuse and then I’ve just missed that bit and haven’t done any more on that […] This one’s about self-concept. So again, that’s going to be an issue because of my development of self-concept at the time’.

Kelly felt she did not fit in with her peers and had not received tutorial support or support for her dyslexia. Whilst many working-class students struggle to adjust to university (Reay 2018) it is significant that Kelly did not request or seek support. Kelly had asked professionals for help when she disclosed the sexual abuse she was experiencing and ultimately ‘nothing was done’. Therefore, her habitus at the time was not aligned to seeking help or expecting to receive it. She had the academic capitals to legitimately enter the field but was unable to develop the skills or strategies (understanding the rules of the field) that would support her success (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992). Kelly considered this her personal failure ignoring the absence of support from the university, thus positioning herself as a neo-liberal subject unaware of the structural inequality of the field. Such self-exclusion from the field is one of the most forceful forms of symbolic violence (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992). At this time Kelly described feeling very much alone, not having foster care or family to support her. Again, this is a distinct feature of the experience of care leavers, which sets them apart from other under-represented university students, who, despite having difficulty may have a family network (social capital) to offer support and guidance and help them to navigate the university field.

Key turning points prompted some of the students to revisit their aspirations for university. Kimberley, a new mother, was made redundant and reconsidered her future. After a succession of jobs, she found unfulfilling, Kelly wanted to return to education and ‘not let it be the thing that beat me’. University offered the chance of a new identity and life from their childhood, defying stereotypes imposed upon them during their looked after care:

Kimberley: ‘Because of my background it’s made us [me] want to do well and prove I’m not just a statistic, people from care don’t always go down the wrong path. […] There’s a lot of negatives [about children in care], they don’t go to university, they don’t work, they’re just on the dole […] I think I’ve always had that strong urge inside to want a better life’.

Lily: ‘I think what drove me on is they [professionals] always say that people who are in care don’t necessarily do well [academically]’.

Their aspirations were not solely a product of primary or secondary habitus, but more akin to what Reay (2004) described as work on or of the self. These students familiarised themselves with the academic capitals required to enter HE and worked towards achieving them via the completion of further studies and access courses (Bourdieu 1990). This meant that when Kelly entered nurse education a second time, she recognised she needed to seek and accept support from tutors and student services, investing time and effort to improve her academic skills, strengthening her academic capital and consequently, her position in the field (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992).

Field

The students had all internalised the dominant social discourse of the benefits of a university education (Bathmaker 2015; 2016), but none made the distinction between different types of university or course; the hybrid field Bathmaker refers to.

This reflects key differences in the choices of students who have social, cultural, and economic capital and those who do not and over representation of CES on vocational programmes (Harrison 2020). Knowledge for its own sake was not a possibility (Kloot 2016) but was about realising their aspirations and securing their future financially:

Zoe: ‘I knew nursing would allow me to be financially secure and independent, a job for life really’.

In one sense this reflects the inequality in the HE field in that the students were at post-92 institutions studying a vocational degree; however, it also reflects the complexity of the field where the hybrid space offers different opportunities to succeed for a diverse range of learners (Bathmaker 2016; Bathmaker 2017). Zoe’s narrative demonstrated personal agency and strategic entry into the field. She was aware that her fees would be paid and there would be a secure job at the end of her studies.

Lower levels of economic capital featured in the narratives and Connie, Lily and Kimberley referred to the prohibitive impact of introducing fees for nurse education. Having enrolled before the introduction of nursing fees they acknowledged tuition fees would prevent them from applying. These challenges resonate with the experiences of working class and under-represented university students, as noted in Reay’s work (2018), but also reflect the pragmatic rationality she refers to. Their choices were also influenced by their exposure to caring professionals and social workers during their pre-care and care experience, as well as by their college tutors who encouraged them to pursue vocational courses, effectively helping to sort them for different types of HE (Bathmaker 2015).

Zoe: ‘I suppose my course kind of linked to nursing and maybe, looking back, it did prepare us to go into those sort of university courses, you know in health or social work, the placements we had were all in those areas, so that gave us an idea of what to expect […] They were the courses most of us applied for after college and the ones our tutors recommended’.

What differed from the working-class students in Reay’s research was the impact of pre-care and care experience on the choices they made:

Kimberley: ‘I think it’s [nursing] because I’ve got experience linked to my mam, because she’s a heavy alcohol user. I felt like I could draw on some of my life experience’.

This was also reflected in Lily’s narrative. When asked about her choice of course, she was adamant that nursing was the only career she would consider because of her pre-care and looked after care experience. This decision had been reinforced by the professionals in her life who praised her ability to care for her siblings:

Lily: ‘Cause I was a carer for my little sisters and social services said to me like if it hadn’t been for me – I’m not tooting my own horn here, but they could have died both of them. Like we never used to get fed or anything like that and […] I used to give my sister her epileptic medication. […] I think in nursing, it gives me a massive advantage – my past’.

As described previously, the students demonstrated both agency and ability to transform and accumulate the necessary capitals to achieve their goals, but also were making strategic decisions about enrolling on courses where they could harness their existing capitals, and particularly those they had accrued through exposure to adverse childhood experiences and the looked after care system. More importantly, as highlighted by Lily, they felt these capitals would improve their position in the field. Whilst it is suggested that CES struggled to fit in at university, Stahl (2015) refers to this as a cleft habitus, where the new setting is at odds with the primary habitus, this was not apparent in this study:

Connie: ‘We don’t really mix with the wider campus, in the School of Health, it’s just nursing, social work, physio’s and so everyone is doing a professional course. So maybe that makes it different too […] and the students are more mixed, lots of mature students and not just 18-year-olds’.

This indicates a sense of cohesion where the common vocational connections with her peers, as alongside student diversity produced a vocational and institutional habitus (Reay, Crozier, and Clayton 2009). Consequently, this to some extent defies the assumption that working class and under-represented students are fish out of water in the university field, but arguably their habitus was not challenged (Bourdieu 1990) because their prior experience aligned with that of the institutions and the courses they were exposed to (Reay 1998).

Kelly, Zoe, and Connie were enjoying their courses, reporting high levels of success. However, Kimberley, who was pregnant at the time of her interview, was conscious that the legacy of her pre-care and care experience might resurface:

Kimberley: ‘What happens if I hit 35 or have this baby and it triggers it [the impact of the legacy of her pre-care experience]? […] Some things are boxed away in there and I’ll talk about it every now and again and I definitely think there is stuff in there that will come out’.

Whilst Kimberley wanted specific support to be available to her because of her care leaver status, it was interesting she did not actually identify any specific needs relating to this. This perhaps links back to her previous care experience where she had a professional support network, but also her desire to protect her developing student identity and transforming habitus (Bourdieu 1990; Reay, Crozier, and Clayton 2009). Lily was encountering difficulties at university and like many students in Harrison’s work (2017, 2019, 2020) had considered withdrawal and interrupting her studies:

Lily: ‘The reason I was going to defer my year was ‘cause I’ve missed so much [academically] already […] and missing so much in first year, people have formed their groups, their friendship groups’.

Lily’s compulsory education was characterised by placement and school moves and poor attendance, but this had been heavily monitored by the professionals involved in her care. At university Lily did not have such social support mechanisms and without ‘a kick up the bum’ she was unable to govern her own attendance, resulting in features of her past resurfacing in her behaviour at university (Bourdieu 1990). Lily indicated this was inconsistent with the rules of her university programme, which required a minimum attendance and as such, harmed her position in the field, leading to discussions about deferring her first-year assessments and back-grouping to join the following programme cohort. Although she was struggling, Lily was reluctant for her peers to know:

Lily: ‘I’ll hear them [peers] saying their marks and stuff for their assignment and saying – “what did you get?” I’m like, yeah I got 80%, like lying, I’ve only got like 50%’.

Lily wanted to protect her emerging academic and professional identity, but also to defy the stereotypes imposed on her at school because of her care status. She was very clear that her time at university was more challenging because she did not ‘have the support of parents’, but equally her attendance at university meant she did not have the support of her peers. Like Kimberley she had previously had the support of key professionals but could not rely on them:

Lily: ‘I lost her [her social worker] – like erm – this year – er February. She told me she was getting a different job – and she’d been there since I was 15. It was quite hard – to be honest […] I also did CAMHS, and I got really close to the woman, but you can only do that until 18 – so that was another person I lost.’

Lily foregrounded her lack of attendance as being the main reason for not having support at university, however, her description of the ‘loss’ she felt at losing professionals who had supported her is significant and perhaps explains her reluctance to form relationships with her peers and others in the university setting who could support her and strengthen both her social and academic capital.

Beyond the field

Whilst many university students move out of the area to study and then either return to their home areas or elsewhere to work (Donnelly and Gamsu 2018) all five of the students aimed to work in the same region where they had grown up and attended university. University experience had not altered this geographic connection (habitus) to their hometowns, although their nursing degree would provide them with the necessary academic and professional capital to work anywhere in the UK and, should they wish, internationally (Royal College of Nursing 2018).

Kimberley: ‘I would love to just get a job and we haven’t had the best time financially with me being at uni […] So, just to know you’ve got that secure job for life here [in the Northeast of England] […] I’m going to have a job for life here and that’s huge’.

For Kimberley, remaining in the Northeast of England was linked not only to her family commitments, but also to the enduring aspiration for financial security, connected to her early social and cultural biography. In the North of England, as with areas of socio-economic deprivation generally, there are comparatively high levels of public sector employment (Office for National Statistics 2018), and this reinforced her aspirations to work and remain in the area. Kimberley, Kelly, and Connie were mature students and had children and for Connie, grandchildren, who cemented their links to the area. However, Zoe and Lily did not have either partners or children, but felt they could not leave the area because of their siblings who were still in looked after care:

Lily: ‘My family, my two sisters are here. They’ve got no one but me’.

Zoe: ‘I would always want to be here [the Northeast], well, as long as my sister is. There’s no way I could move away from her’.

For Lily and Zoe, it was clear that their vocational aspirations were restricted by feelings of responsibility to their siblings and the desire to see them regularly; a legacy of the childhood separation from them which they had experienced. Allen and Hollingworth (2013) refer to the stickiness of place, which is often considered restrictive in terms of opportunities beyond university. However, these students could join their chosen professions and retain their local ties to family and friends. Wider benefits were captured by Kimberley’s reflection on her university experience:

Kimberley: ‘It’s given us [me] such a lot of confidence and it’s opened my eyes. I’ve got a total [totally] different outlook, a broad outlook and I’m excited to see what’s out there [speaking of the future]’.

Her university education had brought about a fundamental transformation in her personal identity and how she imagined her potential future. Whilst vocational education in post-92 institutions is often considered lower in status to traditional academic subjects and the offer of elite/traditional universities (Bathmaker 2015), this study highlights and acknowledges the importance of such provision. Here, the students benefitted in terms of increased self-esteem, personal achievement of aspirations and possible futures, as well as articulating the value of training for a profession where salary may not be the prime concern. They clearly wished to join a caring profession and felt they could harness some of their prior experience to make a difference. All five articulated episodes of feeling insecure and that their early lives lacked routine and security. This sense of security had not been provided by entering looked after care, but was something they felt their nursing careers could offer:

Zoe: ‘That’s what’s important, being secure […] nursing gives me that’.

Bathmaker (2021) refers to a Bourdieusian-based model of graduate capitals, which notes that university education produces different forms of graduate capital that have different levels of utility in different occupational fields; thus, constituting a form of symbolic capital with magical power to reproduce the social status quo. In this sense it is necessary to consider how university education prepares graduates to enter and successfully transition into suitable employment. Whilst many university courses do not have structured career pathways, this is not the case for nurse education and here, the academic and practice-based features of the programmes helped the students develop the capitals and habitus that would support their transition into nursing (Bathmaker 2021). However, it is apparent that there are significant wage inequalities between different occupations and that individuals are not equally positioned to create their own chances of occupational and indeed financial success. The intersection of factors including social class, gender and ethnicity permeate the experience of moving into graduate employment and arguably for these students, they had identified a career in nursing, which is characterised by a largely female workforce and comparatively lower paid employment, but this was tempered by the security they felt it would offer and the sense of fulfilment nursing provided.

Conclusion

Bathmaker’s (2015) work introduces the notion of moving beyond Bourdieu and this is an important feature of this study. Here, the key concept of habitus is stretched to build on Reay’s (1998) conceptualisation of work on the self and the accrual of habitus and capitals to support entry into the university field. Whilst Bathmaker’s (2015) assertion that the education system effectively sorts individuals for different types of education is not contested, what is contested is that this is necessarily negative. Indeed, the very premise of Bourdieu’s work is the pervasive inequality, which is reproduced through the education system, producing differential access and opportunity and polarising elite versus vocational education, often based on social background. However, if we move beyond this, it is possible to state that vocational education, which is often ascribed lower status, is essentially of immense benefit and the benefits can manifest in various ways. In this study, the students had not entered the field as passive agents, subject to the latent determinism often associated with Bourdieu’s work. Instead, they had made a strategic assessment of their existing capitals and their utility in the sub-field of their vocational education. They had engaged in work on the self (Reay 1998) to accumulate academic capital to enter the field but were also conscious of how their specific programmes of study would help them secure the futures they hoped for.

All the students viewed their university education positively and felt it was the pathway to future employment and to transformation in their lives. This fundamental belief is what helped them to persevere despite any challenges they faced. They had defied the outcomes of many care-experienced individuals, outlined in the introduction, and the assumptions professionals made about their academic ability. The courses and institutions they attended might be considered evidence of the preservation of a social system that ultimately disadvantages them as a collective group, perpetuating the social paradox evident in Bourdieu’s work, whereby those who are least likely to benefit from structural inequality are least likely to question it (Bourdieu 1990). Indeed, Bourdieu considers diversity of the HE field as a form of diversion, whereby easy access offers a less valued and ultimately less rewarding outcome. However, if we move beyond Bourdieu, it is possible to illustrate the possibilities for transformation, change and improved life outcomes that diversity in the field produces (Bathmaker 2015), as the students in this study certainly illustrate.

The findings of this study are limited given the small number of participants, the regional focus and inclusion of only nursing students from the Northeast of England. Therefore, they are not necessarily reflective of other CES in the HE field, and their diverse characteristics and individual experience relating to their journeys into and through university. Nor are the students reflective of the wider population of individuals who are care experienced and unlike these students do not enter the HE field. However, the findings do add to the growing body of knowledge in this area and highlight some of the individual assets that CE students may bring to nurse education, as well as some of the challenges such experience may produce, but also function as a reminder of the need to emphasise the individual nature of experience when referring to care experienced students as a collective group.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Notes on contributors

Lynette H. Shotton

Dr Lynette Shotton is Head of Subject, Department of Social Work, Education and Community Well-being at Northumbria University. Lynette is a registered adult nurse, health visitor and Senior Fellow of Advance HE. She is passionate about access and participation in HE, particularly in relation to care experienced students.