When I taught about social class in my Intimacy, Marriages and Families course this past semester, I began with reflection and a sticky note, not with a lecture or statistics.

This wasn’t the first time I used sticky-note prompts in class. Earlier in the semester, I introduced a similar activity during our unit on race, ethnicity and immigration. That experience inspired me: It showed how a simple sentence starter could help students unpack the emotional weight of identity, belonging and difference. It also helped me refine how to frame and facilitate the conversation in a more impactful way.

So when we arrived at the unit on families and social class, I returned to the sticky notes—this time with more complexity of prompts. And what followed was one of the most meaningful moments of the semester.

The Sticky Note Activity: A Gentle Way Into a Hard Topic

I gave students a set of sentence starters and asked them to complete them anonymously on a sticky note. After writing, they placed their notes on the walls, windows, doors and whiteboard—spreading them out wide enough so everyone could read at the same time. Then students walked silently around the room, taking in what their classmates had shared. After the walk, I invited each student to share one or two statements that resonated with them.

Here are some of the prompts:

• “I didn’t realize how class shaped me until …”
• “One thing my family couldn’t afford growing up was …”
• “I noticed others had more when …”
• “I felt lucky to have _______ when others didn’t.”
• “At school, I learned to stay quiet about …”
• “An opportunity I almost missed because of money was …”
• “I was taught to always …”

These prompts are simple but emotionally rich. They allow students to enter the topic from their own lived experience—before theory, before data, before the academic discourse.

The range of responses students shared was both personal and eye-opening. To the prompt “I didn’t realize how class shaped me until …,” one student reflected on “seeing how much my mother worked just to provide a roof over our heads.” In response to “An opportunity I almost missed because of money was …,” students listed things such as education, rent, bills, Air Jordan shoes, going to college and even a football trip—while one noted simply, “Nothing,” suggesting a contrasting perspective. When asked “I was taught to always …,” many shared values shaped by scarcity and resilience: “be grateful and humble,” “earn money for life by myself after high school” or “bite my tongue to maintain peace.” Responses to “One thing my family couldn’t afford growing up was …” included extracurricular activities, having their own rooms, brand-new items, frequent family time and vacations.

Furthermore, students noticed class differences with reflections such as “I had to wait for things my friends got in a blink of an eye.” Others shared the silence they learned to carry, responding to “At school, I learned to stay quiet about …” with reflections on their home situations, financial aid or how much their parents made. Some added the inverse: “I learned to stay quiet about other kids’ struggles.”

A prompt asking students for one moment that made them aware of inequality yielded responses such as “having to work in high school while others went out,” “facing racial discrimination at a young age” and “realizing some classmates couldn’t afford meals.” Finally, to the prompt “I realized not everyone had _______ like I did,” students shared privileges they had come to recognize: “the options to choose,” “the ability to study abroad” or “having parents, food, shelter and protection.” Together, these reflections painted a vivid and humanizing picture of the many ways class difference shapes lived experience—often invisibly.

After the gallery walk, the room felt palpably different—softer, more thoughtful. While the reflections I’m about to share were originally expressed during a similar activity in our earlier unit on race, ethnicity and immigration, I chose to include them here because they speak to the same core theme. Several students had shared that the activity helped them “see how diverse people in the class are—the values, backgrounds” and one added, “It helped humanize people.”

This activity then helped me transition smoothly to my key take-home message for students. After the sticky note reflections and class discussion, I prompted them to pause and consider this:

“Not everyone grows up with the same set of tools. Some of us had parents who could advocate for us, who knew how to navigate systems—others had to figure it all out on their own. Some kids are encouraged to raise their voices; others are expected to stay in line. We’re often told that success is about effort—but what if the race isn’t the same for everyone?”

I then connected some of the sticky-note reflections back to this statement—helping students draw the line between their lived experiences and structural patterns.

Why It Matters More Than Ever

In a political climate in which diversity, equity and inclusion efforts are being rolled back, educators may hesitate to bring up inequality in their classrooms. But this is precisely when it matters most.

Class disparities are getting wider. Students are balancing coursework while managing food insecurity, housing challenges or caregiving responsibilities. Others arrive with generational wealth, college prep resources and family support networks. If we don’t name these disparities, we risk reinforcing them through silence.

Teaching about social class isn’t about shame or blame—it’s about giving students the tools to understand their place in the world and the systems that shape it.

Tips for Teaching Social Class

There are several strategies educators can use to teach social class in a way that is welcoming and engaging. First, start with stories, not stats—students already live within systems of inequality, so grounding the conversation in their lived experiences builds emotional buy-in before introducing abstract concepts. One effective way to do this is to use low-stakes writing prompts, such as the sticky-note activity, which encourages honest reflection while creating a safe, low-pressure environment.

It’s also important to create space for silent voices; not all students are comfortable speaking aloud, so alternatives like gallery walks or anonymous digital boards help everyone to feel comfortable participating. After reflection, connect students’ lived experiences with research by introducing concepts such as cultural capital and texts like Unequal Childhoods (University of California Press, second edition, 2011) by Annette Lareau, which explores how social class influences parenting styles and shapes children’s life chances.

Closing the Loop

At the end of the unit, I asked students, what can we do?

I introduced them to the concept of social capital, after earlier discussions on cultural and human capital. I introduced the article “What the Privileged Poor Can Teach Us” by Anthony Abraham Jack, which shows how first-generation and low-income students can build academic support networks—particularly by building relationships with professors.

Before that, I shared Rita Pierson’s TED Talk “Every Kid Needs a Champion,” a moving reminder that in education, relationships can change lives. Her story exemplifies how connection itself becomes a form of capital, especially for those who grow up without material advantage.

This pairing helped students see how they could move from understanding class inequality to navigating it—and even challenging it—with critical thinking, empathy and advocacy.

Teaching about inequality is not partisan—it’s fundamental to education. If we want to graduate students who are not only career-ready but human-ready—who understand structural inequality and social responsibility—then we must create space for conversations about class.