I am a native French-speaking white cisgender man who grew up in a working-class household. My identity affords me certain privileges that others do not have, while also shaping some of the challenges I have experienced.

First, as a man, I am statistically more likely than women to remain in academia as seniority increases, to serve as lead or senior author on research papers, and to hold editorial roles in psychology journals. I also do not have children, which may further increase my likelihood of pursuing and sustaining an academic career compared to colleagues who are balancing parenthood. Second, because of my ethnic background, I do not experience racism. Growing up in a culturally diverse suburban area in France, I witnessed how being white afforded me advantages that many of my childhood friends, who were and are of North African or Asian backgrounds, did not have. I still vividly remember several of my friends being asked by police to show their identification while we were waiting outside a McDonald’s, while one officer explicitly told me that this would not be necessary for me. I also saw how few of my childhood friends obtained the Diplôme National du Brevet (the French lower-secondary school diploma), and even fewer, only one to my recollection, completed the Baccalauréat (roughly equivalent to A-levels in the UK). As I progressed through the French education system and later into university, I therefore observed my educational environment becoming progressively whiter and wealthier. Finally, I hold both French and Swiss citizenship. This dual citizenship constitutes another significant privilege: it carries none of the stigma often associated with the dual nationalities held by some of my childhood friends. It also meant that I had never had to worry about immigration status or deportation until moving to the UK in the post-Brexit context, where remaining in the country now depends on securing visa sponsorship.

However, these advantages did not shield me from the challenges associated with the socio-economic background I come from. My parents, as well as their siblings (15 in total), did not complete high school. As a first-generation university student, I was unaware that pursuing research in psychology was even possible prior to enrolling in my undergraduate studies. I also had to navigate university life without the meta-knowledge of how higher education systems operate or how academic careers are built - for example, seeking research internships, approaching lecturers for guidance, developing mentor–mentee relationships, attending academic conferences, or even building an academic website. I was fortunate to receive a government scholarship based on family income (bourse sur critères sociaux) and financial support from my parents, but I nevertheless had to work part-time throughout my studies to cover living costs. I also took a year off to save money in order to enrol in a Master’s programme abroad in Switzerland, where I again worked part-time while studying. Later, I was fortunate to secure a PhD scholarship that provided a salary for three years, but it did not cover tuition fees. As a result, I had to take out a loan and began my doctoral training with both a modest stipend and the anxiety of entering my professional life with debt.

These experiences have made me particularly aware of the forms of classism that can exist within academic environments. Many aspects of academic life implicitly assume familiarity with middle- or upper-class cultural norms, financial stability, and access to informal networks that facilitate entry and progression in academia. For students from working-class backgrounds, these expectations can create additional barriers, whether through financial constraints, limited access to mentorship, or a lack of familiarity with the unwritten rules that govern academic careers. Having navigated these challenges myself, I am particularly attentive to supporting students who may face similar structural barriers.

Another challenge I have faced in academia relates to language. As a non-native English speaker who completed all of my early education in French, I entered the international academic environment without the same linguistic advantages as many of my peers. Writing manuscripts, grant applications, and conference presentations in English has required additional time and effort, particularly early in my career. This has deepened my appreciation of the additional barriers faced by students and researchers working in a second language.

Reflecting on both the privileges and barriers that have shaped my academic trajectory informs how I approach equity and inclusion in my work. Throughout my career, I have been fortunate to receive support and guidance from generous mentors, beginning during my undergraduate studies at the University of Tours and continuing throughout my current role at the University of St Andrews. These mentors helped me navigate academic environments that were initially unfamiliar to me and showed me how important supportive mentorship can be for early-career researchers.

As I continue to develop my career, I aim to create a supportive and inclusive research environment where students from diverse backgrounds feel encouraged to pursue their interests in research. In practice, this involves being attentive to differences in prior access to academic knowledge, making implicit academic norms more explicit, and providing guidance about opportunities such as research internships, conferences, and professional networks. I strive to foster an environment in which students feel comfortable asking questions and exploring academic pathways that might otherwise remain opaque. Through these efforts, I hope to contribute to a research culture that supports talented students regardless of their gender, socio-economic, cultural, or linguistic background.

This statement is my own, but its structure was inspired by the diversity statement written by Dr Ashley J. Thomas.

I also recommend the book Colonised Minds: Narratives That Shape Psychology by Akira R. O’Connor and Erin Robbins, which examines how the field of psychology has been shaped by historical power structures and explores how colonial legacies continue to influence research and teaching today.