School–Community Environments and Girls’ STEM Participation: Relational Pathways from a Mixed-Methods Study in Rwanda

For decades, the global conversation about girls in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics has focused on a simple question: are they getting through the door? Policymakers and educators have worked hard to ensure that girls have the same access to classrooms, laboratories, and textbooks as boys. The assumption was that if the barrier of entry were removed, the path forward would naturally clear itself. Yet, despite these efforts, the numbers tell a different story. In many places, including Rwanda, girls remain underrepresented in these fields, not because they lack ability, but because something happens after they walk into the room.

To understand this gap, researchers have begun to look beyond the individual student and examine the world she inhabits. They are interested in how a young person learns to see herself as a scientist. This involves more than just memorizing facts; it is about feeling that one belongs, that one's ideas are valued, and that a future in these fields is possible. This sense of belonging is shaped by a complex web of relationships: the encouragement of a teacher, the expectations of a parent, the attitudes of peers, and the visible presence of role models who look like them. When these messages align, a girl feels supported. When they clash, or when they subtly suggest that science is a masculine domain, her confidence can erode, even if she is academically brilliant.

A recent study conducted in Rwanda set out to map this invisible landscape. The researchers wanted to know how the environment created by schools and communities shapes the experience of girls in STEM. They asked whether the mere presence of support programs was enough, or if the way these programs were connected and delivered mattered more. The study took place in the Nyagatare District, a region with a mix of day and boarding schools, where the national push for gender equality in education meets the daily realities of family life and local culture.

The research team, led by Jean Paul Uzabakiriho and colleagues, approached the problem by listening to the people living it. They gathered information from 431 participants, a group comprising 322 students and 109 teachers from public secondary schools. They used a two-step process to get a full picture. First, they asked students and teachers to fill out detailed surveys about their experiences, their views on gender roles, and the support they received. Then, they followed up with in-depth conversations, including interviews and group discussions, to hear the stories behind the numbers. This method allowed them to see not just what was happening, but how the participants made sense of it.

The findings revealed a landscape where support is often present but not always effective in isolation. The data showed that girls in these schools were frequently exposed to helpful resources. Many reported having access to career counseling, inclusive role models, and extracurricular science clubs. In fact, the surveys indicated that over half of the participants felt they had strong access to career guidance and role models who represented a diverse range of people. However, the study found that these resources did not operate as separate, independent tools. Instead, they tended to appear together. Schools that offered strong career counseling were also the ones most likely to have active science clubs and visible role models. This suggests that support is not a single switch to be flipped, but a cluster of conditions that tend to grow together.

Despite this abundance of resources, the study found that the link between these supports and a girl's actual participation in STEM was more complex than a simple cause-and-effect relationship. When the researchers analyzed the data, they found that while all these support mechanisms together had a small but real connection to participation, no single factor stood out as the magic key. Having a career counselor or a science club did not, on its own, guarantee that a girl would feel confident or stay in the field. The researchers concluded that the value of these programs depends heavily on how they are woven into the daily life of the school and the community.

The most significant barrier identified was not a lack of opportunity, but the persistence of gendered expectations. The data showed that male students were significantly more likely to believe that boys are naturally better at science and math than girls. This belief was not just an abstract opinion; it played out in the classroom. In interviews, students described how boys often dominated discussions, convinced that they belonged there more than girls did. Teachers noted that this dynamic could make girls hesitant to speak up, even when they knew the answer. The problem extended beyond the school gates. Parents and community members sometimes reinforced these ideas, steering girls toward "easier" careers like teaching or nursing while viewing engineering or physics as too difficult or inappropriate for women.

The researchers discovered that the most powerful force in a girl's STEM journey was the consistency of the messages she received. When a school encouraged a girl to pursue science, but her family or peers suggested otherwise, she received mixed signals that could be confusing and discouraging. One student explained that when teachers and families both believed in her, she began to believe in herself. Conversely, when the messages conflicted, capable girls often withdrew from their ambitions. This consistency, or what the researchers called "pathway coherence," emerged as a critical theme. It is not enough for a school to have a policy; that policy must be lived out in the interactions between teachers, students, families, and the wider community.

The study also highlighted the crucial, often invisible role of school leadership. The researchers found that the success of STEM programs depended on how well school leaders organized and sustained them. A school might have a plan for gender equality, but without continuous monitoring, resource allocation, and teacher training, those plans often remained just words on paper. Effective leaders were those who ensured that career guidance was not a one-time event but an ongoing process, and that science clubs had the materials and time to thrive. They created an environment where opportunities were not just available but were actively enacted and protected.

From these insights, the researchers developed a new way of thinking about the issue, which they call the Relational Learning–Enactment Pathways Framework. This framework suggests that a girl's journey in STEM is not a straight line determined by her grades or her interest alone. Instead, it is a path shaped by four interconnected processes: whether she is recognized as capable, whether she is exposed to supportive relationships and real-world examples, whether the school institutionally supports these opportunities, and how she experiences all of this in terms of her own confidence and identity. The framework emphasizes that these elements work together. If one part is missing or contradictory, the whole path becomes difficult to navigate.

The study concludes that the solution to the gender gap in STEM is not simply to build more labs or offer more scholarships. While access is necessary, it is not sufficient. The real work lies in the social organization of learning. It requires schools, families, and communities to align their messages so that girls receive a consistent, reinforcing signal that they belong in science. It requires teachers to be mindful of how they distribute attention and encouragement in the classroom. It requires leaders to ensure that support programs are not just present but are deeply integrated into the culture of the school.

Ultimately, the research from Rwanda offers a clear, grounded perspective on a global challenge. It moves the conversation away from asking why girls are not choosing science and toward asking how the environment around them is shaping that choice. The evidence suggests that when the conditions of participation are organized with care—when recognition is given, relationships are supportive, and institutions are committed—girls do not just enter the room; they stay, they lead, and they thrive. The path forward is not about finding a single fix, but about building a coherent, supportive world where every girl can see herself as a scientist.