Abstract
Widening participation policies often depict access to elite universities as an inherently inclusive force, particularly for disadvantaged women who have been underrepresented in prestigious degrees. These agendas promise not only access but also social inclusion, with a key aspect being interactions with affluent peers. Drawing on interviews with undergraduates at an elite Chilean university and using Michèle Lamont’s approach to symbolic boundaries, this article explores the two facets of boundary-drawing dynamics between economically elite and widening participation-admitted female students. The results identify the criteria and perceived properties of these boundaries, highlighting the intersectional role of gender. While strong and durable class boundaries exist, the analysis shows the seemingly contradictory dynamics of ‘segregated inclusion’ for widening participation-admitted female students. These insights challenge binary views of inclusion and exclusion, highlighting the dual character of these institutions: elites reinforce existing ties through resegregation, while disadvantaged students are socially included but in a segregated manner.
Introduction
Elite universities are often characterised as having a dual function: they serve as springboards for upward mobility while simultaneously being a channel for elite reproduction. This duality suggests the existence of ‘two’ universities within a single institution: one catering to privileged students from elite schools and another for everyone else (Reeves et al., 2017). In Chile, research has shown that the benefits of attending an elite institution, in terms of elite recruitment, disproportionately accrue to male students from wealthy backgrounds who attended a select number of elite schools (Zimmerman, 2019).
This dual character becomes particularly relevant in the context of widening participation (WP) initiatives. Over recent decades, elite universities globally have pushed to diversify their student bodies across gender, class and race/ethnicity. However, conventional WP policies often portray entry into an elite university as an unequivocally inclusive and democratic force, conflating exclusion with inequality and access with inclusion. Yet, as Khan (2018) argues, the opening of previously exclusionary institutions can lead to paradoxical dynamics such as ‘democratic inequality’ (Khan, 2011) or ‘segregated inclusion’ (Accominotti et al., 2018). Accominotti et al. (2018) demonstrate how the inclusion of non-elite individuals into historically exclusive cultural institutions results in the creation of new social boundaries. Building on this insight, this article aims to expand understanding of inclusion and inequality within elite universities by moving beyond a focus on ‘objective’ markers of access to consider the internal dynamics within these institutions.
A critical aspect of social inclusion lies in analysing cross-class encounters and inclusivity within high-status groups. These interactions can play a pivotal role in shaping inequality in elite universities, acting as ‘gateway interactions’ within ‘gateway institutions’ that mediate access to valued life outcomes such as jobs, income and social status (Ridgeway and Fiske, 2012). Building on Bourdieu’s framework, scholarship has documented how low endowments of capital (economic, social and cultural) hinder the integration of lower-income students into high-status groups (e.g. Bathmaker et al., 2016; Jack, 2019; Reay, 2018).
However, studies in elite universities have largely focused on working-class students, leaving the affluent majority less scrutinised (Thornton, 2023). When studied, existing research typically compares students’ capital endowments, shedding crucial light on class reproduction but offering less insight into the dynamics of cross-class interactions and the two facets of boundary-making (Lee, 2016). Additionally, as Thornton (2023) notes, past scholarship often lumps different class factions into broad categories like ‘middle class’ or ‘affluent’. As a result, the processes of boundary-making between specific elite groups and their varying interactions with newly included students are often overlooked. The intersectional role of other inequalities, such as gender – and women’s experiences in particular – also remains underexplored in these contexts.
To help fill these gaps, this study employs Lamont’s (e.g. Lamont, 1992, 2000) symbolic boundary approach to examine how cross-class interactions unfold and how class differences are interpreted within an elite university. Through observations and in-depth interviews with 44 undergraduates, this research investigates cross-class encounters with a focus on lower-income female students who enter one of the most prestigious institutions in Latin America through a WP programme, alongside their economically elite peers – ‘the elite of the elite’. The study focuses on degree programmes that train the nation’s economic elite: law, engineering and business and economics (Zimmerman, 2019).
Understanding cross-class dynamics in these settings is particularly important becauses such interactions are rare, due to the country extreme income and wealth inequality (Chancel et al., 2021), educational segregation (Valenzuela et al., 2014) and the spatial segregation of the upper-middle classes (Méndez and Gayo, 2019). Elite students, in particular, are highly insulated from the rest of society (Ilabaca and Corvalán, 2023), often living and schooling within the same geographical areas (Méndez and Gayo, 2019). Elite universities represent one of the few spaces where cross-class interactions might occur.
The analysis indicates dynamics of ‘segregated inclusion’ (Accominotti et al., 2018) where patterns of ‘differential association’ (Bottero, 2005) – whether intentional or habitual – both drive and result from this dynamic. I explore the criteria used to define similarities and differences between groups – cultural, socio-economic, moral and spatial-temporal – and the perceived properties of symbolic boundaries that facilitate both segregation and inclusion. My analysis offers two primary contributions to the understanding of inclusion and inequality in elite universities. First, and most obviously, it shows that openness does not necessarily bridge class divides, underscoring the importance of on-the-ground interpersonal dynamics that sustain divides and may undermine institutional meso-level efforts at inclusion. Second, while past research has primarily focused on exclusion in these settings, this study highlights more complex dynamics beyond binary understandings. A symbolic boundary approach allows us to see that difference does not necessarily stem from zero-sum differentiation, opening up possibilities for exploring nuanced dynamics, such as segregated inclusion, that nonetheless contribute to reproducing inequality.
Class, Culture and Symbolic Boundaries in Elite Universities
Research has established the importance of social class in shaping experiences and outcomes in elite universities (e.g. Bathmaker et al., 2016; Jack, 2019; Reay, 2018 to name a few). Bourdieu-inspired scholars often consider class not just in terms of economic capital and occupational status, but also in relation to class-based cultural resources – such as skills, knowledge, competencies or dispositions – that provide comparative advantages or disadvantages. The focus of this research, for important reasons, centres on the possession of resources and on the institutionalised structures that unequally value them. For instance, privileged students often possess a ‘feel for the game’ (Bathmaker et al., 2016), which gives them an edge in navigating academic and social environments.
Despite its importance, this approach is less amenable to analysing cross-class encounters and the boundaries between social groups. First, as Lee (2016) points out, while understanding how varying stocks and displays of cultural capital create (dis)advantages is fundamental, this focus is less attentive to the actual peer interactions and the group-making processes. Second, a cultural capital approach risks conflating high endowments of capital with social closure and symbolic boundaries, while suggesting a zero-sum game between affluent and low-income students. Critics of the Bourdieusian approach have questioned whether cultural differentiation automatically leads to hierarchy and domination, and whether dominant group values are universally seen as legitimate (Lamont, 1992; Lamont and Lareau, 1988). Moreover, as Jarness (2017: 358) points out, ‘While social closure by definition presupposes differentiation, differentiation does not necessarily entail social closure’.
These critiques underscore the necessity of examining not only the content of class distinctions and the resources that enable students to succeed in elite institutions but also how students interpret and perceive class differences and their significance. Lamont’s (1992, 2000; Lamont and Molnár, 2002) work on symbolic boundaries provides a valuable framework for addressing these issues. Symbolic boundaries are culturally constructed distinctions that separate people, groups and things and can be the stepping stone to social boundaries – identifiable patterns of social exclusion (Lamont et al., 2015). While symbolic boundaries exist at the intersubjective level, social boundaries manifest as groupings of individuals. This approach foregrounds empirically mapping these boundaries, which typically defines a hierarchy of groups and the similarities and differences between them (Small et al., 2010).
The symbolic boundaries approach is central to this analysis in three key ways. First, it helps specify the criteria – ‘the measuring sticks’ (Lamont and Molnár, 2002: 188) – used by both high and lower-status groups. For example, Jack and Black (2022) show that class differences affect lower-income students differently depending on their socio-economic background and path to elite universities, leading to varying boundaries and senses of belonging. Consistent with Lamont’s (1992) findings, research in elite universities also underscores the importance of moral boundaries, alongside cultural ones, in how disadvantaged students navigate class differences (Lee, 2016; Lehmann, 2009; Stuber, 2006).
Second, while much research focuses on exclusion, Lamont (1992) clarifies that inclusion and exclusion occur simultaneously. This approach recognises the dual nature of group identity definition and highlights how boundary processes contribute to self-definition. In the context of widening participation, understanding how groups perceive and navigate similarities and differences is crucial for social inclusion beyond mere access.
Third, while studies of cultural capital often focus on the content of judgements, a symbolic boundary approach emphasises the importance of examining the mechanisms and properties of these boundaries. In this article, I draw attention to properties – specifically, their permeability, salience, durability and visibility (Lamont and Molnár, 2002). While exclusion in elite settings is often attributed to social closure and overtly visible barriers like class hostility, contemporary research on elites in the UK and the USA reveals that elites, while privately maintaining strong boundaries, publicly express openness and tolerance to align with meritocratic values (Jarness and Friedman, 2017; Khan, 2011). Ferguson and Lareau’s (2021) study in an elite university indicates that class-based antagonism often surfaces in seemingly innocuous and casual ways, with working-class students becoming potential sources of ‘hostile ignorance’ on the part of privileged peers. Understanding these boundary properties is crucial to recognising that openness does not necessarily translate to porous boundaries, and segregation may persist without visible barriers.
Cross-Class Encounters at Elite Universities
Cross-class encounters at elite universities can offer key insights into how social class dynamics play out ‘on-the-ground’ interactions, unmediated by predefined occupational roles and hierarchies, as often occur in society (Ridgeway and Fiske, 2012). Universities also represent a unique setting where students from diverse socio-economic backgrounds share daily life, enabling the study of sustained interactions rather than the brief or occasional encounters more typical in other contexts (Lee, 2016). For working-class students, forming non-segregated class ties in elite universities can be particularly consequential, offering cultural guidance (Corredor et al., 2020; Lareau, 2015), influencing future job opportunities (Martin, 2013) and providing academic support (Lee, 2016). Lee’s (2016) ethnography of an elite US campus suggests that shared daily life with affluent peers can result in porous class boundaries. Recent research in Colombia (Ás-Rivadulla et al., 2022, 2023) indicates that while cross-class encounters at elite institutions can lead to friendships and non-segregated ties, these relationships often come at a high emotional cost for working-class students. In highly unequal societies like Chile, class boundaries may persist, complicating the formation of ties and perpetuating previous segregations despite new proximity.
However, one limitation of existing research is that it focuses on encounters with ‘middle-class’ or ‘affluent’ students, without sufficiently differentiating between specific elite factions. As Thornton (2023) notes, the privileged majority often serves as a reference point rather than an object of inquiry, leading to a conflation of different elite groups. This lack of differentiation obscures whether variations in cross-class interactions exist depending on the specific ‘elite’ group and across different fields of study, given the varying concentrations of the type of ‘elite’ they attract (Villalobos et al., 2020). In line with Bourdieusian class analysis, scholars have questioned whether elites can be regarded as a single cohesive class (e.g. Méndez and Gayo, 2019; Savage et al., 2015), given the fundamental internal conflicts between those who derive power primarily from cultural versus economic capital, with the latter being the dominant fraction (e.g. Bourdieu, 1984). This article examines cross-class encounters specifically with economically elite students, focusing on students who attended elite schools and study law, engineering and business and economics degrees, where economic elites are most concentrated in Chile and reproduced through this combination of institutions (Villalobos et al., 2020; Zimmerman, 2019).
Gender and Class Exclusion on Campus
Social class has traditionally been the primary lens for understanding exclusion/inclusion dynamics in elite universities, with less attention given to the intersection of class and gender and women’s experiences. This intersection is particularly significant for Chilean elites. Zimmerman (2019) evidences the impact of business-focused degrees on the career trajectories of wealthy male students, significantly influencing their entry into the country’s wealthiest 0.1%. Peer connections among these elite men often lead them to run the same companies as their school classmates, indicating that elite recruitment patterns are strongly influenced by both gender and class (Atria and Rovira, 2021; Zimmerman, 2019).
A recent study in Chile shed light on gendered peer dynamics ‘on the ground’ within elite contexts. Fercovic (2023) discusses how upwardly mobile women in Chilean elite universities face stigmatisation at the intersection of class and gender more frequently than men. While overt discrimination was reported as less common, the women in his study frequently encountered underestimation, disdain and contempt. Yet, research has not explored how elite women themselves might contribute to class boundaries in Chilean universities. For example, in the USA, Armstrong and Hamilton (2013) show how elite campus culture creates networking opportunities for upper-class women who can ‘pay for the party’, leading to intra-gender exclusion processes. Stuber et al. (2011) found it is young women, rather than men, who are portrayed as the ‘ruthless’ gatekeepers and prone to class-based exclusion. They argue that this reflects male gender privilege, where men are depicted as oblivious to class and women are criticised and somehow tasked with policing class boundaries. Reay (2005) referred to this gendered labour as ‘dirty class work’. Examining this intersection is important, after all, social divisions do not operate in isolation. This study examines whether and how gender influences cross-class boundaries at elite universities.
Methodology
This article draws on a study conducted in Chile at one of Latin America’s most prestigious universities, consistently ranked at the top in the region. Historically, this institution has been a stronghold for the country’s wealthiest families, known for its distinguished reputation, high selectivity and conservative ethos. Its exclusivity, coupled with substantial fees, traditionally served as a barrier for socio-economically disadvantaged students until recent policy shifts towards free higher education in Chile. My research focused on three degree programmes – law, business and economics, and engineering – long regarded as the most elitist (Villalobos et al., 2020). These programmes predominantly enrol privately educated students, with proportions ranging from 73% in law to 86% in business and economics, and 83% in engineering (SIES, 2021).
The study employed observational data and in-depth semi-structured interviews with academic and professional staff and students. Female students from disadvantaged backgrounds were prioritised due to their historical underrepresentation in these degrees– although gender representation has been changing in recent years. This article focuses on interviews with 24 lower-income females, recruited based on three criteria: (1) entry through a socio-economic WP programme; (2) parents with ‘low-skilled’ occupations and/or ‘low’ educational qualifications; and (3) attendance at publicly funded schools. Seven of them were interviewed twice. Additionally, 20 elite students (13 females and seven males) were recruited based on: (1) entry through the regular admission system; (2) parents with ‘professional/managerial’ occupations and/or a university degree; and (3) attendance at elite schools as identified in previous research (e.g. Ilabaca and Corbalán, 2022; Madrid, 2016; UNDP, 2017). This list was expanded to include elite girls’ schools. All but four elite respondents were in their final years of study, enabling them to provide retrospective accounts of their experiences. Written consent was obtained, and all research was conducted in compliance with the university’s ethical guidelines (approval granted by UCL’s Faculty of Education and Society).
Students filled in a socio-demographic questionnaire including questions such as parental occupation and education and further information about social origins was gathered at interviews. The terms ‘elite’ and ‘upper-class’ are used interchangeably, and I generally refer to the female students who accessed through the WP programme as ‘lower-income’ or ‘lower-SES’ (socio-economic status) (as commonly used in Chile). This group is diverse, including those from intermediate backgrounds (e.g. parents who are small business owners or taxi drivers) to lower-class backgrounds (e.g. parents in routine jobs like security guards or catering assistants). I note these differences when relevant.
Observation data covered daily campus activities, including interactions in communal areas, cafeterias and formal and informal events like welcome fairs and student representative elections. Interviews explored students’ symbolic boundaries, probing criteria for friendship, perceived similarities and differences, group hierarchies and opinions on cross-class interaction. While debates exist regarding the effectiveness of interviews in capturing symbolic boundaries as enacted in ‘real’ life (e.g. Jerolmack and Khan, 2014; Pugh, 2013; Sølvberg and Jarness, 2019), Lamont and Swidler (2014) argue that qualitative interviews are suitable for accessing participants’ cultural frameworks, especially as categorisation and discursive construction of ‘us’ and ‘them’ are not immediately evident in behavioural observations. Interviews, therefore, serve as a site for exploring interviewees’ classificatory constructions.
The initial analysis involved multiple readings of field notes and interviews. Coding focused on identifying boundaries for group formation and impressions of other students’ class backgrounds. I organised students’ responses in a grid to facilitate comparisons within and between groups. While the common methodological practice is paying attention to the most frequently occurring boundaries (Lamont, 1992), it is important to recognise that moral codes often limit explicit class-based judgements in interviews, particularly with highly educated elite participants (Jarness and Friedman, 2017). For example, cultural boundaries are highly salient for lower-SES students but are infrequently mentioned by privileged students, as will be explained later. Nevertheless, I report on these boundaries. While boundaries were also racialised and there were differences by degree, space constraints limit detailed discussion. The focus here is on boundary drawing during cross-class encounters, examining their properties and implications for group formation and identification, and how students interpret segregation and inclusion.
Dividing Lines: Cultural, Socio-Economic, Moral and Spatial-Temporal Boundaries
‘Not a Question of Money’: Upper-Class Culture and Gendered Exclusion
Cultural boundaries expressing divisions – for example, on education, refinement, cultural styles and manners (e.g. Bourdieu, 1984; Lamont, 1992) – emerged as significant dividers, particularly during the first year. As María, a lower-SES student, recalled: ‘It was a shock, there were things . . . really basic or simple things, in which you could see the socio-cultural clash.’ Claudia, another lower-SES student, noticed ‘very obvious’ differences, describing her upper-class peers as having ‘another culture, a separate culture, they even speak differently’.
Lower-income students emphasised embodied forms of distinction, such as ways of speaking and demeanours as connoting high status. They also noted preferences for different cultural activities. However, while research on cultural capital often posits that a command of high culture serves as a valued signal, none of the elite students mentioned the cultural sophistication of the ‘bookish’ intellectual type as a status differentiator – with one mentioning that reading was ‘a waste of time’. Instead, they highlighted sports – reported as the main pastime by 19 of them – and consumer lifestyles as the primary signals for drawing boundaries, although this does not imply cultural tolerance. In contrast, nearly all low-SES students (23 of them) reported volunteering and social activities as their main preference.
While for lower-income students cultural differences were stark, upper-class students rarely judged lower-class peers spontaneously (also Stuber, 2006 in the USA). This reticence likely stems from self-monitoring dispositions to avoid appearing exclusionary in the interview context (Sølvberg and Jarness, 2019) and because class boundaries are less salient for them; they are within their own social milieu at the university. However, privately, these cultural differences were crucial for elites. Pedro, an engineering student from an affluent background and self-described as committed to social justice, noted a ‘silent’ form of discrimination among his elite peers: ‘There is still discrimination, I think, which is not spoken, but silent, like people avoiding getting together with other people’. He added, ‘people begin to distinguish based on behaviours – how you dress, how you talk, what you like to do, where you party – and that is the palette of discrimination, more than the socio-economic level itself’.
Federico, a business and economics student from a wealthy family, echoed this sentiment, arguing that divisions among peers are ‘not a question of money, but of whether you’re born cuico [upper class] or not; it doesn’t matter if you won the lottery’. He elaborated:
What is happening in Chile happens because it is a very segregated society; more than an issue of money, it’s an issue of attitude. If you give to someone, who comes from another place, the same house and the same car, that lives here [upper-class neighbourhood], money for school, the same food, everything exactly the same . . . it doesn’t matter, they will not be included. People will note that it is not the same, the moms, las viejas cuicas [posh old ladies] will note that it is not the same and they will not take part in moms’ groups of friends.
As Federico implied, elite women were often portrayed as cultural excluders and gatekeepers and described as the most closed-off group at the university. Josefina, an upper-class student, admitted, ‘Among women, we are much more closed than other groups’. Lower-SES women felt excluded in particular from these elite female circles as Mariana shared, ‘You see groups of girls from a high socio-economic level, and you think, “We would never be included in that group”’. She further observed, ‘Among women, this separation is much more marked. My male friends know and greet all kinds of people – maybe they’re not friends, but they share activities like football’.
While not necessarily through cultural sophistication – as ‘lowbrow’ culture linked to the new economic elite (through brands and consumption) can also confer high status in Chile (Méndez, 2015) – cultural differences were stark for lower-income students and often mattered more than ‘money’ for upper-class students. While cultural exclusion in these settings is well documented, students emphasised the intersectional role of gender in signalling and interpreting cultural boundaries.
Gendered Displays of Money and Probing Socio-Economic Status
Unsurprisingly, socio-economic boundaries that imply judgements based on social position (Lamont, 1992) were frequently cited as main dividers. For lower-income students, elites ‘broadcasting privilege’ (Jack, 2019: 64) through consumption practices was particularly shocking, heightening the salience of class differences and often leading to feelings of inferiority, especially among poorer students compared with those from intermediate backgrounds. Isabel, for example, often felt inferior and marginalised by wealthier peers, particularly women, who casually disclosed their socio-economic status:
They live in a different environment; they travel, it is so common for them to travel in winter and summer holidays to other countries, to go and buy expensive clothes in different shops, because of their situation. I mean, their experience is totally different, so it was difficult for me to find certain topics on which we could. . . coincide, and I could contribute or say something that interests them. So. . . I sometimes felt excluded or discriminated against, above all by other female classmates in that situation. . . yes, by women more than anything else.
As noted earlier, gender plays an intersectional role in how boundaries are experienced and perceived. Socio-economic disparities were often highlighted through elite women’s styles and consumption practices. As previous research on young women has shown, gendered processes of exclusion frequently manifest through these practices, as privileged women’s bodies convey class cues (Bettie, 2003; Stuber et al., 2011).
For elite students, on their part, social cues beyond money – such as parents’ professional standing, surnames and visibility in prestigious circles – served as important evaluative markers of social position. Martina, an upper-class student, noted that her peers judged others based on ‘where you went to school, where you live, where you go on holidays, who you know’. Sara, a lower-SES student, recounted: ‘Questions like “What do your parents do?” I don’t know why they care about what my parents do, but they’re used to asking each other’. She added:
For me, it was very. . . my mom is a seamstress, and my dad is a waiter, and I have no problem saying it, but I know that the people who have asked me expect me to say, ‘My mom is also an engineer’.
Yet, it was the normalisation of high socio-economic standing and the privileged students’ obliviousness to inequality that unsettled many low-income students. As Antonella expressed, ‘It doesn’t bother me out of resentment, like “ahh. . . these cuicos [upper-class]”, but it’s a shame they cannot understand your [socio-economic] level’.
Thus, socio-economic boundaries were not only made through remarks of social position or the flaunting of wealth but were also subtly communicated through class-based rules of interaction (Ridgeway and Fiske, 2012), where elite students both strategically and unconsciously proved and expected responses indicative of high socio-economic status.
Diversity versus Social Justice
Perceptions of similarities, differences and feelings of inferiority and superiority between students were also often framed in moral terms. Moral boundaries refer to evaluations made on the grounds of moral character (Lamont, 1992). Upper-class students used moral criteria to differentiate social groups but only horizontally, avoiding discussions about peers from different backgrounds. They criticised their upper-class friends for ‘not giving back’, being disengaged and lacking interest in connecting with students from diverse backgrounds. Lucía, from a prominent family, expressed this sentiment: ‘We were always told: children, you have been given too much, so you have a lot to give back, to your close circle and the country. But many forget that and stay within their close circle’. Similarly, siblings Amparo and Mateo, both business and economics students, criticised their friends for lacking diversity and their reluctance to meet students from other backgrounds:
Amparo: They are in their own world. Mateo: It is a bother to them. Amparo: Like, they already have their friends from school, it’s like nothing adds up to them, that’s what I feel. Mateo: In here, people stick with their old school friends, a lot. Amparo: They are too comfortable.
While these prosocial attitudes might suggest openness, they failed to translate into cross-class relationships, as explored further in the following section. Despite their claims of valuing diversity and openness, elite students were perceived by lower-SES peers as primarily focused on status and wealth, compared with other privileged students (arguably from the ‘cultural’ faction). Ema, a lower-SES student, described these views, underscoring again the closeness of elite women’s groups around socio-economic criteria:
I see a group coming from private schools with a lot of money, and these groups are very closed, especially those from girls’ schools; they stick together and kind of focus on money, and they do not participate much in social projects. There is another group with a bit fewer economic resources, but they do have a very good economic situation, but they are, I don’t know, sociable and humble, like money is not the first focus for them (. . .) people who take part in a social project but still have a good socio-economic situation, and they are much more diverse, like they can get out of their groups and join others; money is not their main focus. And there is another group with fewer socio-economic resources; I would be there.
Lower-income students drew anti-socio-economic boundaries, rejecting those overly focused on wealth and status (Lamont, 1992). They viewed elite women’s status-related behaviours as superficial. Isabel remarked on the extreme diets some followed, while Andrea, a law student, distanced herself from those focused on financial gain: ‘There are others who want to do something cooler in life and not just dedicate ourselves to earning money’. She elaborated:
It’s going to sound very ugly, but they don’t care what happens to ordinary people. . . we all live in a bubble, but they live in a much smaller bubble, seeing less of reality outside. They don’t care about the injustices.
Lower-SES students appreciated people who cared about others, noting that most of their friends shared a concern for social inequality and injustices. As Lamont (2000) notes, this inversion of the hierarchy of worth helps retain a sense of dignity in a lower-status position. These findings echo other studies highlighting the importance of moral, rather than purely cultural, distinctions for low-income students in elite universities (Jack and Black, 2022; Lee, 2016; Lehmann, 2009), underscoring how lower-income students place value on different criteria.
Time on Campus in a Segregated City
Symbolic boundaries between elite and WP students were also evident in their differing conceptualisations of where they preferred to spend their time. Elite students often preferred to minimise their time on campus, opting instead to return to their affluent neighbourhoods. Vicente, a business and economics student, stated, ‘You go to the university as little as possible’. Emilia noted that students ‘escape from university as soon as possible’, particularly since the campus is located in a non-elite area. She added, ‘If you have a car ride, you leave; if you’re offered a ride, you wouldn’t stay to do anything else’. Leisure and study off-campus were also reported as gendered segregated and only mixing for parties.
For disadvantaged students, the concentration of social and academic life in upper-class neighbourhoods was highly noticeable. Some felt excluded when events were organised in distant, affluent areas. Valentina, a WP student, shared, ‘They organise parties that were always too far away for us, so we could not go, and they know’. However, and in contrast, all the young women interviewed spent most of their time on campus for both study and leisure where they could fully engage with the university environment. Moreover, with only one exception, all participated in various university organisations from sports to politics, with volunteering being the most common (23 of them), taking full advantage of university resources and experiences.
It is important to note the context in which this divergence in campus time unfolds. While Lamont’s framework is concerned with subjective boundaries, students highlighted the role of pre-existing social boundaries, where structural and physical segregation play a crucial and independent role. Santiago is an extremely segregated city, with the upper classes and elite schools concentrated in the eastern periphery (Méndez and Gayo, 2019). Federico explained how this social insulation fostered relationships with socially similar peers, where opportunities to socialise played a key part:
It wasn’t like [entering university] it opened the world to me and I got to know new realities. Not at all, no. In that sense, it wasn’t that I was lazy, and I said ‘I’m going to be friends with the easiest ones’ no, but they were the ones I made friends with because I met them at a friend’s birthday party, and we had a few drinks and the next day we sat together at the university.
Mariana, a low-SES student, echoed this sentiment, noting that these opportunities reinforce pre-existing friendship patterns:
To form a relationship with another person, you need to cultivate it. And you cultivate it in places where you share a weekend studying, when you go to a classmate’s house, when you have lunch with them. So, when they have lunch in the same places, when they come together from the same places, when your parents are friends, or you go to the same club, or you go on vacation to the same place.
She added that the same applies to her, ‘We go together on public transport, or we study in the same place, we share tips. All these things really mark the difference’.
These everyday activities, which reinforce segregation, are so ubiquitous and mundane that they are often not experienced as sources of conflict or struggle among students. And yet, as Bourdieu (2018) explained, sharing a homogeneous physical space is both the cause and effect of social segregation and the reproduction of the groups that occupy it. Elite students, habitually or intentionally, preferred to spend time where socially similar others concentrate, effectively re-segregating themselves. This divergence in how campus time is valued and spent underscores different orientations that, while not necessarily zero-sum games, nonetheless contribute to class reproduction.
Parallel Lives: Experiences of Segregation and Inclusion among Non-Elite Women
The symbolic boundaries outlined earlier became tangible social divisions. However, the perceived properties of group boundaries – their permeability, durability, salience and visibility – shaped how students experienced the seemingly paradoxical dynamic of segregation and inclusion.
In relation to permeability, when asked to describe social life at the university, the young women frequently referred to ‘niches’ and ‘bubbles’, highlighting the non-porous nature of group boundaries. Except for one student, all lower-SES women reported having friends from similar class backgrounds. Yet, self-segregation within homophilic networks allowed them to carve out their own space at the university, simultaneously experiencing both segregation from affluent students and a sense of inclusion. Valentina commented, ‘We formed a separate group; we kind of get closer to each other, and just as they create their barriers, so do we. So, they are like two separate groups, and you can kind of feel the difference.’ For these students, inclusion did not necessarily translate into integration into high-status groups but rather maintaining cultural autonomy and finding value in their own communities.
Regarding the durability, while students reported that groups of friends rarely become more class heterogenous over time, the salience of class boundaries as a principle for organising social relations decreased over time as students grew more comfortable and interactions with affluent peers remained limited. Andrea described how her feelings of inferiority lessened as she began to feel ‘more or less equal’ to her privileged peers:
Now with the years I don’t feel it is so common [to feel discriminated against], we feel more or less equal, but at the beginning, that issue of. . . distance was more common, and it was mutual because we also put distance with respect to them. I didn’t approach them either because I had no interest in getting together with them.
Additionally, in relation to visibility, boundaries were perceived by lower-SES students as somewhat fuzzy. Claudia, for instance, referring to elite students, expressed that: ‘I had classmates who didn’t exclude you, but they kind of excluded themselves’. Similarly, Amanda acknowledged that while some groups appeared exclusionary, her overall experience was not negative. She remarked:
I am not sure if it’s [the university] really like how it’s seen from the outside, for example, that they are all cuicos [upper class] and they reject everyone from other backgrounds, but there are certain groups that are very marked (. . .). But in general, for me, I haven’t had any bad experiences.
Sympathy towards upper-class students, as reported by half of low-income students, further complicates the perception of class boundaries. Sara, an engineering student, was surprised by the friendliness of her elite classmates, attributing the limited interactions to missed opportunities rather than deliberate exclusion and closeness:
But it’s not like it’s a closed group either [upper-class students]; the truth is that they are all very nice, you can go with them and . . . there is not . . . I think that in my personal experience, I just haven’t had the chance, because of the courses I have taken, but I do not think that they are closed, but many times it looks like that. It is not like they look at you like ‘oh who are you?’, if you know what I mean. But I think you can notice it, like social classes.
Hostility and derogatory comments from privileged peers, while present, were reported as less common. The social graces taught to elites, which set them apart but also convey the impression of being like others, as Ostrander (1993) writes, may shield them from being perceived as excluders. Displays of ‘ordinariness’, ‘friendliness’ and ‘openness’ allow the privileged to avoid challenges to their status (Jarness and Flemmen, 2019; Thornton, 2023). At the same time, this perception of boundaries as fuzzy allows lower-SES students to feel included, even within a segregated environment.
To be sure, class-based discrimination does occur, but the dynamics of domination and subordination in this setting are better characterised by attitudinal complexity across both groups. The absence of overt negativity from upper-class students often led to these divisions being misrecognised and accepted as the natural order and facilitated a sense of inclusion due to the seeming lack of exclusion. This dynamic ultimately legitimised and perpetuated class divisions within the university setting.
Discussion and Conclusion
This article employed a symbolic boundary approach to explore cross-class encounters between economically elite students and young women admitted through a widening participation programme at a Chilean elite university. While mainstream education policy typically equates inclusion with access and exclusion with closure, my analysis suggests a more nuanced picture of ‘segregated inclusion’. Boundary processes create class-homogeneous spaces that reinforce existing social divides, but also allow WP students to find comfort and belonging within their own social groups. This dynamic, rooted in class-specific differences, does not necessarily imply zero-sum games; students value different things, enabling both segregation and inclusion to coexist. This dynamic also implies that the high socio-economic segregation present in Chilean society persists within the university, as economically elite and upwardly mobile students occupy distinct social and spatial worlds. Yet, these groups are unequal; with interactions unfolding in ‘status-biased contexts’ (Ridgeway and Fiske, 2012) that favour upper-class students and subtly frustrate the inclusion of lower-SES students into high-status groups.
While the data originate from a single institution and may reflect Chilean societal idiosyncrasies within a context of high inequality, the analysis holds implications for research on inclusion and inequality in elite higher education. First, the findings add to the rising attention to the experiences of disadvantaged students within elite universities, by offering greater specificity in understanding cross-class encounters, as different elite factions may offer varied opportunities for inclusion and draw different boundaries. Future research could examine variations in how other strata within the affluent or elite engage in boundary-making. In addition, by incorporating a symbolic boundary approach, this study shifts the focus from cultural capital possession to exploring the implications of perceived class differences. It underscores the simultaneity of inclusion and exclusion, along with the distinct standards of evaluation and worth upheld by working-class students, offering an alternative to viewing them solely through the lens of the dominant culture in these institutions.
Further, analysing the properties, of these boundaries adds specificity to understanding how differences are experienced in this setting. The findings reveal that boundaries were not porous, as evidenced by the existence of ‘niches’ on campus with varying statuses attached. While these boundaries were less salient for elites and became less so for lower-SES women over time, they remained significant. Although elites drew strong class boundaries, their infrequent interactions with non-elite students and the absence of overt negativity made these boundaries appear fuzzy rather than rigid, which may explain why these ‘niches’ are often accepted as natural.
The analysis also contributes to intersectional literature by highlighting the role of gender in class divisions. For lower-SES women, intra-gender exclusion was particularly felt in lifestyle-related aspects. As Bettie (2003) suggests, when women delineate class boundaries through consumption, the ‘hidden injuries of class’ (p. 43) for upwardly mobile women frequently revolve around these markers. While lower-SES men may also face intra-gender exclusion, this study cannot address this issue, and future research could explore it. Consistent with Stuber et al.’s (2011) findings in the USA, elite women are seen as more prone to class-based exclusion, whereas elite men are not described in similar terms. Stuber et al. (2011) argue that this perception positions only women as gatekeepers, bearing the blame for exclusion, while men are assumed to be unconcerned with class – even though both genders may engage in exclusionary practices – thus suggesting a form of male privilege.
Finally, the findings have implications for WP agendas beyond access barriers. Segregated inclusion dynamics imply that elites cement relationships initiated at elite schools, compounding advantage through attendance at elite universities (Reeves et al., 2017; Zimmerman, 2019), meanwhile upwardly mobile students, despite gaining valuable resources and feeling integrated into the institution, are not included in high-status groups. As noted by Reeves et al. (2017), elite universities may exhibit a dual character, echoing Mills’ idea of ‘two Harvards’: one for a closely networked set of ‘old boys’ and one for everyone else.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
I am very grateful to Gonzalo Hidalgo, Daniela Pérez-Aguilar, Aline Courtois and David Kampmann, as well as the two anonymous reviewers of this journal, for their insightful comments and suggestions on earlier drafts of this article.
Funding
The author disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article: The National Agency for Research and Development [ANID] Chile; Becas Chile Scholarship Programme, under Grant 2018-7219023, supported this research.
