This is a complex and multi-faceted issue.
I don't think it's as simple as a class divide at all. Or even financial.
I'm not going to go into specific details here, but...
I grew up in (if you want to put labels on it), a fairly middle class lifestyle created by aspirarional working class parents. I went to state schools but good ones because my parents were able to buy a house in the nicest part of town. We ticked all the boxes for holidays, after school activities, appropriate conduct and behaviours (in public at leaat), valued education (at school anyway - my mum didn't want me to go to university because I was supposed to get married and become.a housewife). It was very much a, "But we took you to stately homes," upbringing - we were, of course, members of the National Trust.
But I also grew up in abuse and we.werent nearly as well off or privileged as the families around. I wasn't loved, supported or encouraged. My parents raised me in shame, humiliation, and despair. I could tick several of the ACE boxes.
In my early.mid twenties, I was engaged and pregnant. My fiancé cheated and I ended up back at 'home' with a mother who didn't want me there having disgraced the family by becoming an unmarried mother. And arranged behind my back for me to go into a mother and baby home - lying about me, my capabilities and my mental health to get me in there. It was all part of the abuse.
I entered a very different world. A world of poverty and disadvantage that I'd never been part of before. I saw first hand the difference in parenting, expectations and opportunity. But fundentally in aspiration.
I was eventually allocated social housing and was again surrounded by people whose children would be described on here as 'feral'. Not all of them, of course, but in numbers I'd never seen before.
I was a single parent with absolutely zero support. No family, no partner and no friends. By this point my mental health, self esteem and sense of self worth couldn't have been lower.
I had no contact with anyone from my 'old life' and I shied away from new people.i met who would have been the 'sort of person' I previously would have known because I was ashamed and no longer had anything in common with them. My life had become about survival and stigma. My old life had become a distant memory that I could see no way back to.
My world became very small. I had no money, no support, and my son was growing up in poverty. And I was surrounded by it.
But I wanted more for myself and for my son. He played with the other children where we lived but he was already different. They commented on the way he spoke, the way he dressed, what he ate and the fact we didn't even have Cartoon Network. They liked him but regarded him as a curiosity and couldn't relate to him.
I had no money and couldn't afford to eat what they did so I cooked from scratch every night. I read with him every day. I found free and very low-cost events to take him to so that he was immersed in culture. He loved going to the local museum and art galleries as a child. He became interested in classical music through free events and theatre through local low cost and free events. We had a crap TV and no games consoles so we made.our own fun elsewhere. I engaged with him.
Ultimately, I prioritised him. We still lived in a shitty damp ridden flat. We didn't have a car. We shopped in cheap supermarkets. His clothes were mostly handmedowns/charity shop/cheap. His life looked nothing like mine had in many respects. He was in poverty, surrounded by poverty but loved and cared for and with a parent who was invested in him.
I eventually went to university. At the end of the first year, I bumped into one of the young women from the mother and baby home. She was amazed I was at university. Many of the other young women I'd known with her had had children removed or had gone on to have a couple more children on benefits. Their lives were chaotic- richochetting from one shit relationship to another; one shit man to another. She, herself, had lived in the mother and baby home with another child for another 18 months and had also been allocated social housing. SS were involved. Her children were (in her words) a nightmare.
The crux of it was that at the point we met, our lives were no different. Our living situations, money, mental health, potential outcomes were veey similar. Our upbringing had been similar - mine was just physically more comfortable. But I knew I wanted better for my child. She couldn't see a 'better'.
Anyone can make the decision to want more for their child. Anyone can decide to prioritise their child. (Pretty much) anyone can choose to be a good parent. But you have to believe that it is available.to you in the first place.
I was provided for as a child but I didn't have good parents. I haven't had contact with my mum since I was mid thirties because the abuse didn't ever stop. I practised what I called 'opposite parenting' in that I assessed every parenting situation and did the opposite to my parents would
have. Anyone could do that.
So what was the difference? I grew up in a nice area surrounded by wealth but it wasn't mine. I had a warm bed and a full stomach but I wasnt loved. I was discarded in the worst way and left to survive. And, worse that that, my mother actively tried to sabotage me.
Anyway, I went on to become a teacher. My son grew into a wonderful young man. He went to university and now out earns me.
What was the difference?
Intelligence?
Aspiration?
Capacity?
Resilience?
Because it certainly wasn't money or class.