ɫ��ֱ��

When community activist Humera Khan and I designed the Elevating Futures programme, we hoped it would make a difference in supporting final-year undergraduate students from South Asian backgrounds as they navigated the transition from university into work. What I didn’t expect was just how profoundly it would change not only the students – but also me, and everyone who took part.

This was no ordinary careers programme. It was a targeted, intentional pilot, created for a very specific group: South Asian women in their final year of undergraduate study, all of whom come from Index of Multiple Deprivation 1-2 areas, some of the most socio-economically deprived postcodes in the UK. These were students who, on paper, might share cultural heritage with others in their cohort but whose journeys were shaped by the intersecting weight of race, gender, class and a lifetime of under-representation.

• How to prepare graduates for a bicultural and global future
• Not all students want to fit in, but every student wants to matter
• Building identity and belonging among students

The programme ran over 14 weeks, split into two distinct parts. The first half was centred on self-development, with workshops in confidence coaching, personal branding and self-expression through art. These weren’t just skills sessions – they were spaces for reflection, healing and rediscovery. One participant said she hadn’t realised how much of her identity she had silenced until she was asked to draw it. Another shared that it was the first time she had spoken in a room without fear of “sounding too brown”. These were moments of unfreezing, not just of learning something new, but of remembering who they were before they were taught to shrink.

The second half focused on connection, introducing students to trailblazing South Asians across civil service, local politics, journalism, the creative industries and entrepreneurship. They had the chance to ask unfiltered questions and to witness, often for the first time, what success looks like when it wears a face that looks like theirs. One student told us, “I didn’t think there was space for people like me at the top.” But something visibly changed in her posture when she met women such as Baroness Manzila Uddin during our visit to Parliament. “I felt my shoulders drop,” she said. “It was like...I could exhale.”

The power of belonging

These weren’t filtered corporate success stories. These were stories of barriers, language gaps, imposter syndrome and complicated family expectations. The real power of the programme wasn’t just in its design, it was in what happened between the two halves: students began to believe they belonged. They asked brave, sometimes heart-breaking questions: “What if you’ve never had a mentor before?” “Can you be ambitious and still be a good daughter?” Their honesty was striking. But even more striking was their hunger – not just for jobs, but for belonging.

It’s easy to underestimate how deeply class and culture shape career readiness. One student admitted that she didn’t know how to network because no one in her community ever had. Another didn’t know how to talk about strengths without feeling like she was “showing off”. These aren’t deficits. They’re truths. And unless higher education acknowledges them, even the most well-meaning interventions risk missing the mark.

At the very end of the programme came what felt like both a gift and a culmination: an unforgettable session with Asma Khan, the powerhouse behind Indian restaurant Darjeeling Express. She didn’t speak in slogans, she spoke in truth. She shared how she built her culinary empire without formal training, funding or connections. Her mission from the beginning was to uplift women like her, women who were often overlooked or underestimated. “You are not a problem to be fixed,” she told the students. “You are a legacy in motion.” Many cried. Some clapped. All stood taller after that day.

And here’s what I keep coming back to: this is what targeted support looks like. In higher education, we talk a lot about widening participation. But participation alone is not equity. You can widen the door, but if the room inside isn’t built for you, if it doesn’t speak your language, reflect your truth or honour your way of being, you’re still on the margins.

Take account of everyone’s needs

We often treat equity like a universal prescription: apply broadly, hope it works. But Elevating Futures showed me the power of precision. A tailored approach doesn’t exclude others, it honours what’s needed. Trying to support everyone in the same way is like serving the same meal to every guest, without asking about allergies, tastes or dietary needs. Some leave nourished but others leave unseen and still hungry. Real equity is in the care it takes to ask, prepare and serve what truly sustains.

This programme offered shelter, structure and solidarity to those who had long been told to “catch up”, without ever being shown how. By the end, the transformation was undeniable. These young women weren’t just job-seeking. They were dream-building. They were connecting personal value with professional ambition. They were leaving with not just confidence but community.

When universities don’t centre lived experience, they risk creating interventions that are well meaning but impersonal – visible but ineffective. Elevating Futures worked because it said, clearly and unapologetically, “This space is for you. And you don’t have to become someone else to belong here.”

That matters. Representation matters. So does trust – and psychological safety, and the emotional labour of being the first, or the only, in a room. This wasn’t just a programme. It was a reclaiming. And I believe every university should take note.

Because real change doesn’t come from asking, “How can we get everyone to fit the mould?” It comes when we ask, “What would it take to break it?”

Sobia Razzaq is senior lecturer in law and co-chair of Women of Westminster Colleague Network and Project Lead for Elevating Futures at the University of Westminster.

If you would like advice and insight from academics and university staff delivered direct to your inbox each week, .