Staff Room Reads

Reviewed by Professionals for Professionals

SAfE’s Emma Johnston, Educational Equity and Partnerships Programme Lead, shares her thoughts on Darren McGarvey’s book

‘A Journey Through Poverty Safari.’

Although first published in 2017, Poverty Safari remains strikingly relevant today. As the divide between rich and poor continues to widen and socio-economically disadvantaged communities face mounting pressures, Darren McGarvey’s first-hand account of growing up in the estates of Glasgow offers a powerful insight into the anger and frustration felt by many working-class people in the UK. With social unrest again on the rise, this book serves as both a personal memoir and a sharp critique of the systems that perpetuate inequality, including the education system, which often struggles to meet the needs of children living in poverty and can inadvertently reinforce cycles of disadvantage.

The title itself could be seen as a critique of how outsiders often ‘observe’ poverty from a distance, much like tourists on a safari, without truly understanding the complex, day-to-day struggles and systemic barriers faced by those living in poverty. Throughout the book, McGarvey takes us on a non-linear journey from his childhood in one of the poorest estates in Glasgow to becoming a rapper, writer, and social commentator. He is brutally honest, describing his experiences growing up with an abusive and alcoholic mother and his own struggles with addiction, which allows us to take an unflinching look at the reality for many children in today’s Britain.

Alongside his personal experiences, McGarvey weaves in a broader social commentary, exploring how the emotional stress of living in poverty is the ‘engine room that fuels lifestyle choices and behaviours that can lead to poor diet, mental health issues, and chronic health conditions’ and ‘the soup everyone is swimming in all the time’. He also delves into how ‘so much of the system is presided over by people who only understand poverty in the simplest terms, and therefore it also reflects everything they misunderstand too’, going on to use the UK welfare system as an example, where it appears that humiliation is used to incentivise people into finding a job. Similarly, education policy is often shaped by individuals who may lack lived experience of poverty, which can lead to oversimplified or misguided interventions. This is reflected in how disadvantaged students are supported (or sometimes stigmatised) through mechanisms like Pupil Premium funding, attendance policies, or behavioural interventions that may not fully account for the complex realities of poverty.

McGarvey’s raw and candid approach makes this book at times an uncomfortable read, encouraging the reader to reflect on their own attitudes and assumptions, and demonstrating how activism is not helpful unless the voices of those with lived experience are directly involved. The book explores how this can be a challenge when apathy and scepticism of authority and public institutions are often a by-product of living in poverty – growing up in homes where nobody believes that they have a voice or can make a difference, so what’s the point in trying? However, McGarvey also points out the paradox of poverty: ‘the harder things get, the more resilient some people become’ and that social deprivation can force ‘people to cooperate, innovate, and evolve to find the solutions to their common problems’.

Overall, Poverty Safari serves as a powerful reminder that empathy and understanding must guide our responses to socio-economic disadvantage, and that solutions should be led by those with lived experience, not merely observed from a distance by outsiders.