Bridging the Divide
For students from low-income backgrounds, attending a high-decile school can bring both opportunity and challenge. Differences in clothing, extracurricular activities, and access to resources can make them feel isolated, even in an academically supportive environment. Understanding these experiences, and how peers from more privileged backgrounds can help foster inclusion, has been the focus of Mary Pottinger’s decades-long career and her Ed.D research.
Mary, a 37-year veteran teacher and counsellor, has spent her career navigating diverse school communities, from her early teaching and leadership roles at Western Springs College and Carmel College to her long tenure at Takapuna Grammar School where she is now a Deputy Principal with responsibility for pastoral care. Over the years, she has observed how socioeconomic disparities influence student engagement, confidence, and sense of belonging — and she has dedicated herself to exploring practical ways to bridge those divides.
“My research looked at the seen and unseen aspects of poverty in high decile schools,” Mary says.
“It’s not about making people feel guilty — it’s about helping them understand that not everyone starts from the same place.”
Her study involved qualitative interviews with former students from low-income families. Some of the students Mary interviewed were recent graduates, while others were in their thirties with established careers. Mary recorded stories of food insecurity, subtle discrimination, and the internalisation of negative stereotypes. Many students described feeling shame about their circumstances, worried that their peers or teachers would judge them.
“Some students would come to school without breakfast,” Mary recalls. “One student told me she often skipped lunch because there wasn’t enough food at home. Some hid their food during breaks, as they felt bad about what was in their bag, compared to what students from other households bought to school. The internalised sense of embarrassment around needing help made them reluctant to ask for it.”
Mary emphasises that the word ‘shame’ stood out in each interview. “The former students interviewed all said that at school, they would try to keep their personal situations invisible because they felt shame about it.”
A particularly telling example came from a student who could not attend a school-organized art trip to New York because of family financial constraints. “The former student told me she didn’t even tell her family about the trip. She left the note about it in her school bag, saying to herself ‘this trip isn’t for the likes of me.’”
“Each of the students I interviewed relayed that these sorts of experiences shaped their sense of belonging and self-worth.”
Mary struggled initially to find enough former students to interview. When she mentioned this to one participant, the person suggested: “It’s probably because they’re still in that same situation.” “What I understood as the meaning behind that comment was that those who were still constrained by poverty did not want to talk about their time at school, while those who did participate in the research had mostly lifted themselves out of previously restrictive circumstances,” Mary reflects.
Her research illustrates how socioeconomic barriers can subtly shape student experience. Financial limits may prevent participation in school trips, music lessons, or sporting teams, contributing to isolation and a feeling of “otherness.” Many students reported feeling caught between their home environment and the school, unsure how to navigate expectations and peer relationships.
“They want to belong, but they see that other students’ experiences are different,” Mary says. “The shame of being different can affect engagement, participation, and even academic confidence.”
Mary’s work also examined the role of peers from wealthier backgrounds. She emphasises that inclusion requires genuine interaction and understanding, rather than token gestures. Small actions, like inviting someone to collaborate on a project, or smiling at them in class, can help students feel accepted and reduce the stigma they may feel about their circumstances.
“It’s nuanced,” she says. “It’s not about charity. It’s about building relationships, showing respect, and recognizing that not everyone’s life experience is the same. Being aware of how shame operates is part of that.”
To bring her research to life, Mary adapted her thesis into practical presentations delivered to over ten schools and organisations. She also included stories of resilience, such as students overcoming barriers with support from teachers, mentors, and scholarships.
Mary’s study also addressed structural barriers for students with learning difficulties. Early identification, accessible support, and affordable tutoring are essential, particularly for those from lower-income families. While some students overcome these obstacles, inequities remain a challenge.
Her reflections are informed by decades of classroom and counselling experience. She recalls moments when simple gestures — noticing a student’s efforts, offering encouragement, or providing resources — profoundly impacted learning outcomes and wellbeing.
“Showing unconditional positive regard matters,” she says. “When students feel seen and valued, they’re more willing to engage, take risks, and learn.”
Her research highlights both the challenges and resilience of underprivileged students, as well as the responsibility of schools and peers to foster inclusion. Small but thoughtful actions can help students feel part of the school community and supported in their learning.
“Ultimately, it comes down to connection,” Mary reflects. “If students and staff understand and respect each other’s experiences — including the shame and stigma that can come with poverty — schools can be more equitable environments for all.”
Written by Penny Hartill.