Coming to the UK, I was struck by how openly ethnicity and religion are requested in university applications. As I wrote in my previous blog post on religion, this was unsettling. In France, where I grew up, collecting racial data is forbidden under the principle of laïcité. Race is unspeakable and statistically invisible. This aims to protect against discrimination, but it also makes systemic inequality harder to name or address.
This contradiction became clear during my studies in a state-funded architecture school in Paris. Tuition was free, yet my cohort was almost exclusively white and from upper-middle-class backgrounds. With a 5 percent acceptance rate, long years of study, and low starting salaries, the degree favoured those with family support. The absence of racial data did not prevent exclusion, it simply made it harder to track.
Where statistics were possible, such as with gender, corrective policies like ‘positive discrimination’ were introduced. Institutions like the prestigious university Sciences Po created admissions quotas for students from disadvantaged areas (Loi sur l’égalité des chances, 2006). These efforts, though controversial, acknowledged structural barriers. They also raised questions of stigma, echoing debates around tokenism in the UK. In recent years, the number of students identifying as women has surpassed that of men. Ironically, there have even been calls for ‘positive discrimination’ in favour of men. Beyond the comical surface, this may reflect how, in elite academic spaces where most students come from privileged backgrounds, gender attainment gaps are not only closing but reversing. This shift is also evident in UK architecture: recent figures show that 51.5 percent of new architecture undergraduates are women—the highest ever—yet only 29.6 percent of registered architects are female (Aldous, 2021). In France, the pattern is similar: 66 percent of architecture students are women, but women represent only 38 percent of newly registered architects, and just 29 percent of all registered architects (Ordre des Architectes, 2024).
Watching The School That Tried to End Racism (Channel 4, 2020), I felt torn. The programme exposed how early racial bias takes root but placed children in uncomfortable positions, revealing personal struggles on camera. Still, the questions raised—which focused more on the consequences of race than race itself—were valuable. It showed how powerful structured conversations can be, even when imperfect.
In the UK, interview panels are now encouraged to include a person of colour. When I was invited to join one, I wondered if it was due to my appearance, though I had never disclosed my background. Still, I felt that my presence could help candidates feel more at ease. At the same time, I have witnessed racialised students with far more privilege than local working-class white peers. Should support be based solely on visible identity? This is where intersectionality becomes essential (Gutman and Younas, 2024).
Garrett (2024) illustrates how racialised PhD students carry the emotional labour of never being fully seen. Bradbury (2020) highlights how “neutral” policies reinforce disadvantage. These ideas resonate with my own experiences navigating education systems on both sides of the Channel.
What has stayed with me most, though, is the discomfort of being visibly different in predominantly white spaces, even when inclusion is the stated goal. This unspoken tension is often felt in subtle gestures or casual conversations that mark one as ‘other’. While not always intended to harm, they accumulate.
UAL’s anti-racism work rightly focuses on educating staff, but I believe students also need tools to navigate difference: among themselves and with staff. I have lost count of how many times students asked me where I was “from,” or even turned it into a guessing game. It often comes from curiosity, not malice, but shows how much education is still needed around respectful interaction.
References
Aldous, D. (2021) ‘Exclusive: Proportion of women entering architecture hits record high’, The Architects’ Journal, 22 February. Available at: https://www.architectsjournal.co.uk/news/exclusive-proportion-of-women-entering-architecture-hits-record-high (Accessed: 19 June 2025).
Bradbury, A. (2020) ‘A critical race theory framework for education policy analysis: The case of bilingual learners and assessment policy in England’, Race Ethnicity and Education, 23(2), pp. 241–260.
Channel 4 (2020) The School That Tried to End Racism. [Online] Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1I3wJ7pJUjg (Accessed: 19 June 2025).
Garrett, R. (2024) ‘Racism shapes careers: Career trajectories and imagined futures of racialised minority PhDs in UK higher education’, Globalisation, Societies and Education, pp. 1–15.
Gutman, L.M. and Younas, F. (2024) ‘Understanding the awarding gap through the lived experiences of minority ethnic students: An intersectional approach’, British Educational Research Journal. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1002/berj.4108.
Loi n° 2006-396 du 31 mars 2006 pour l’égalité des chances. [Online] Legifrance. Available at: https://www.legifrance.gouv.fr/eli/loi/2006/3/31/SOCX0500284L/jo (Accessed: 19 June 2025).
Ordre des Architectes (2024) Chiffres clés 2024 de l’Ordre des Architectes. [Online] Available at: https://www.architectes.org/actualites/chiffres-cles-2024-de-l-ordre-des-architectes (Accessed: 19 June 2025).
Your blog really resonated with me, especially the tension you describe between visibility and privacy around identity. I completely relate to your point about students constantly asking where you’re “from”… It’s exhausting even when it comes from curiosity rather than malice. What strikes me most is how you’ve navigated such different systems – France’s statistical invisibility versus the UK’s data collection – and seen how both can fail in their own ways. Your experience highlights something I’ve been thinking about: how challenging it can be to decide how transparent we should be about aspects of our identity, not just race, but religion, gender, age, and other markers. There’s value in having the choice to disclose or not, rather than it being expected or required.
Thank you for this really thoughtful response. I’m glad the post resonated with you, and I completely agree, there’s so much complexity in deciding what parts of ourselves to share or protect. Your point about having the choice to disclose is so important, and something I’ll keep reflecting on.
Thank you for this insightful and honest reflection. I was struck by the laws in France around collecting racial and religious data. It’s surprising, and the statistics you shared show how this invisibility can mask structural inequalities. While collecting identity data can sometimes feel like a tick box exercise and place a burden on individuals, this highlights that it can also lead to meaningful change, if used responsibly. Still, it raises a bigger question: what would an effective and fair approach actually look like?
Your data around architecture mirrors patterns I’ve seen in my own work. At UAL, 75% of our students identify as female, yet women make up less than a third of managers in the cultural sector and just 17% of creative directors. In 2021/22, only 14% of Black, Asian and minority ethnic professionals held creative director roles (Arts Council England, 2022). While there is limited data specifically on women of colour, we know their representation drops even further. The data may be slightly outdated, but the trends remain the same.
I also understand your conflict around diverse interview panels. UAL’s policy aims to create more inclusive environments, but when staff are selected solely based on ethnicity and do not have relevant expertise, it can feel tokenistic. The more pressing issue is why many panels must reach beyond their own teams for diversity in the first place. This speaks to deeper structural imbalances within departments, not just at the point of recruitment.
Your reflection on being visibly different in predominantly white spaces also resonated. The persistent sense of otherness, felt through offhand comments or casual questions, is real and cumulative. These moments, often shaped by unconscious bias, reveal how much more needs to be done beyond policies to shift everyday culture.
Thank you for sharing this data Chaline! I didn’t expect the numbers to be so stark, especially in an art and design environment. I had the impression that these fields might be more progressive or protected compared to others historically seen as male-dominated. It’s really eye-opening, and I’ll definitely be taking a closer look at the sources you mentioned.