Meenakshi had many dreams but becoming an academic was not one of them. However, a chance encounter between her and a British Pakistani taxi driver inspired her academic journey. She realised soon that our life choices are often influenced by many structural factors and our occupational choices are no different.

Her research now focuses on segregation in the workplace and employment challenges for underrepresented communities. She wants to use her research as a platform to share the stories and experiences of those who are overlooked.

Meenakshi is a Lecturer in Human Resource Management & Diversity Management. Her research focuses diversity and inclusion in the workplace.

Read more about Meenakshi and her research.

Transcript

[Meenakshi is sitting in front of a white background speaking directly to camera.]

Meenakshi: September 2022 marks ten years of us coming to the UK. I was 39 years old then. And for me to quit my corporate job and come and become a student all over again is a story in itself.

When we came to the UK, we knew no one here. No friends, no relatives, no family. No income as I had quit my job. All we had was a bag of raw dreams, a bit of belief, and a whole lot of determination. So then why did I move to the UK?

As a child, I had many dreams. I wanted to be a dancer, an astronaut, a doctor. I even dreamt of being the Prime minister of my country. But I soon realised that there is a gap between dreams and reality. And I did not have the means, the knowledge, or sometimes the opportunity to pursue these dreams.

But luckily, I got a job as a junior marketing coordinator, which started my journey in the corporate world. And I did well! And soon I was part of boardrooms where strategic decisions are made. But I realised that there is a very shallow approach to some of these strategic decisions and a gap in my own ability to contribute meaningfully.

My CV landed in the hands of HR head who was very well reputed. She was an alumni of a very reputed business school, and her philosophy was that she would not recruit anybody who was not from any of the elite business schools. The rejection hurt me deeply, but it also got me thinking because she was probably not the only one thinking in this manner.

In 2010, I also came to the UK for a family trip. In order to motivate my then ten-year-old son, we took him to Oxford University to show him what a world class university looks like. I'm not sure if he was very motivated, but secretly I was.

Finally, two years later, in 2012, I took the plunge. When we moved here, we didn't have a car, so I used to rely on taxis quite a lot for my commute. In one such taxi ride, I got in and I heard an Indian song playing. So very excitedly I asked the taxi driver, “Are you Indian?” And he said, “No, I'm from Pakistan.” My heart skipped a beat because India and Pakistan don't really share a very friendly neighbourhood relationship. But I was surprised that he was listening to an Indian song. And that got us chatting about his experience as a migrant and his life in the UK. And at that moment I felt connected to this driver because of our shared music, our shared culture, our shared values, as two different nations, but who were one just a few decades back.

I spoke to many more taxi drivers, and during our conversations I realised that their choice to drive taxis is not entirely a free choice. And there is a story waiting to be told.

My masters dissertation explored the employment challenges faced by British-Pakistani men and why a large number of them drive taxis for a living. As a Hindu Indian, academic woman researching on predominantly Muslim Pakistani taxi driving men was tough but was considered novel. And that earned me a scholarship to start my doctoral journey.

One in four Pakistani men drive taxis for a living. And it's quite high compared to one in 100 for the general population. And also, taxi driving is considered a marginalised elementary form of work. And people don't really aspire as young kids to say that I want to be a taxi driver when I grow up. So then why do such a large number of men from this one community drive taxis for a living?

Such over representation of any marginalised group in any occupation is called occupational segregation. And it could well be an equality issue.

I did over 200 informal interviews, 30 in-depth interviews, and over 100 hours of observation in taxis, mosques, Quran classes and taxi ranks. I even signed up as a potential Uber driver to understand the lives and experiences of the Pakistani men and why they choose to drive taxis. And I found that some factors have a huge impact on our occupational choices things like class, affiliation, gender and ethnicity. What sociologists like to call structures, have a huge impact. Now, if you put them together: class, affiliations, gender and ethnicity, you get a CAGE. A metaphor for the structure.

We are all born in such cages. It's just that some cages are golden, some made of iron and others of wood. But every cage has a key or a pass code. And my research is about finding out that key or pass code, so that we can know why a Rafiq Pi in Yorkshire drives a taxi, while a Rishi Sunak from Southampton can become the Prime Minister of this country.