Rural voters have recently come to dominate the news in the quest to determine who is to responsible for the election of Donald Trump. In this post, Stephanie Medley-Rath discusses her own experience of rurality and the misidentification of social problems.
I grew up in a rural downstate Illinois town. I was always going to go to college, as I describe here. My high school guidance counselor was less supportive than my parents. He gave me this advice when I told him my after high school plans:
“Expect your grades to be one to two grades lower than they are now. And, do you realize how far away that college is?” (Yes, I did. I had visited it. The campus was an “onerous” 2.5 hour drive.)
In short, I was encouraged by my guidance counselor to stay closer to home and lower my expectations.
Instead of taking his advice to heart, I did what I planned to do (the trendy descriptor for this would be that I had grit). I moved away to a college town. When folks in my hometown learned of my black roommate from Chicago, they gave me well intended sympathy that was motivated by their racism and fear of all things from Chicago. I learned what to share with my friends and acquaintances from my small town to avoid their racially motivated fears and sympathies.
For graduate school I moved to a southern city. Here I experienced disregard for rurality from my classmates. In one of my first sociology classes, we read research from one of our faculty that studied a rural area and a classmate asked him “why study rural areas because nobody lives there”? I let it slide. This was my first semester and I didn’t want my peers to think less of me. In another class, a classmate disparaged the Amazon reviewers for her book as uneducated and backwoods on account that they were not enthusiastic about her book. When we were assigned a chapter to read from Morel Tales, I was the first student who ever shared with my professor that I had actually been mushroom hunting. I learned to ignore the slights and selectively disclose my own rurality. But here’s the thing, I was never fearful because of my rurality. No one ever threatened me because of it. No one ever intimidated me because of it. No one ever suggested that I should go back where I came from. Perhaps my experience would have been more difficult had I moved to a city outside of the south. In the south, my rural y’alls could be passed off as southern and not necessarily rural….
In this piece, Amanda Fehlbaum uses the holiday film Elf to illustrate how people are socialized into their communities.
It is the holiday season and with that comes a selection of movies shown repeatedly from Thanksgiving until New Year’s Day. One such film is Elf (2003), a story starring Will Ferrell about a human named Buddy raised by elves at the North Pole. After years of not fitting in among his elven brethren, it is revealed that Buddy is not only human, his father is alive and has landed on Santa Claus’s naughty list. Hijinks ensue as Buddy integrates himself into human society, attempts to get his father off of the naughty list, and spreads Christmas cheer.
Although holidays are an important aspect of the sociology of culture, what is most interesting to me about the movie Elf is how it explores resocialization. Resocialization is when a person learns new norms and values in response to new life circumstances. For example, when two people move in together, they undergo a sort of resocialization – learning to keep the toilet seat down, close cabinet doors, not drink directly out of the milk carton, etc. – that they might not have had to do when they lived alone or with their parents….
In this post, Beverly Yuen Thompson looks at the significance of Hugh Hefner, founder of Playboy Magazine, in light of his recent passing. He introduced and marketed a magazine of nude women, literary articles, and interviews with cultural icons to the American mainstream man. The feminist movement responded to Playboy, and pornography in general, in what came to be called “the sex wars,” arguing many different sides on women, sexuality, and representation.
On September 27, 2017, Hugh Hefner, creator of Playboy Magazine, died in his Playboy Mansion, near Beverly Hills, California, at age 91.
In the post-WWII 1950s, Hugh Hefner detoured from the traditional life in which he was raised. His parents were strict Methodists. He joined the army, married the woman he lost his virginity to, had two children, and worked as a journalist. But, he wondered, is this all there is? He asked his conservative bookkeeper father for a loan to start a men’s magazine and explained his vision—not just nude women, it would have literary essays and interviews with cultural icons, but his father turned him down as a bad investment. However, his mother took him aside, and said she would loan him $1,000 from the money she had made as a worker during the war (when women were recruited to replace male workers, i.e. Rosie the Riveter). With $8,000 total collected from various places, Hefner was able to publish the first edition of his magazine in 1953, at age twenty-seven, and it sold 52,000 copies. In 1959, he and his first wife divorced and he began his life as the playboy that he promoted in his magazine.
Hefner did not invent the nudie magazine, but was a successful marketer, selling a conspicuous consumption lifestyle of the conceived of playboy image based on the male ego—Hefner’s ego—hosting parting with exciting people in fancy apartments, dressed in the right clothes, and surrounded by many beautiful objects, including women who appeared straight from the 1930s films on which Hefner grew up. Women’s bodies became an object that he could package and sell for his profit, while not adequately compensating their labor or humanity.
At the magazine’s peak, it sold 7 million copies. The backlash of the 1980s and the rise of widespread pornography lead to a decline for the Playboy Magazine, which always tried to distinguish itself by including writing by contemporary authors, interviews with notable historical figures, and artfully done nude photographs of women.
Gloria Steinem, Undercover Bunny
In 1963, journalist Gloria Steinem went undercover for Show Magazine for which she applied to become a bunny in the New York Playboy Club and wrote about the process in a two-piece expose series. She used her grandmother’s name Marie Ochs and went through the process of being sized up by women managers who would decide if she had the right body, appearance, and docile personality to make it as a drink-and-food server in the club for the lunch and dinner crowds of men, and occasionally, their girlfriends and wives. The ad promised women $300 a week and an entry into a glamorous lifestyle. However, the reality was more one of unfair labor practices, sexual harassment, and low pay. Steinem went on to become a leader in the 1970s feminist movement and challenged the sexism inherent in how women were treated in all levels of their work and personal lives—including such objectification of women’s bodies in media. This journalist stunt would be a landmark occasion in her career as a journalist and a feminist activist….
In this post, Beverly Yuen Thompson looks at the significance of the recently deceased author Kate Millett’s impact on second wave feminism with her popular book, Sexual Politics (1970), Millett popularized the concept of patriarchy by using a personal understanding of everyday gender relations and literary representation.
On September 6, 2017, feminist author Kate Millett passed away at age 82 while on a celebratory birthday trip in Paris, away from their New York City home, with her wife, Sophie Keir. Millett was most-known for her PhD dissertation, which was later published as the popular book Sexual Politics. This book became a center-stone for the second wave feminist movement of the 1970s. In it, she critiqued the patriarchal representations in the literary works of authors such as Norman Mailer, Henry Miller, and D. H. Lawrence, as well as the imbalance of power in everyday mixed-gender interactions.
Her book popularized the concept of patriarchy, which is a system of institutional and social power that is passed down through men, systems where men or their interests routinely hold power, or a social order based on male lines of family descent. Millett argued that interactions between men and women, especially those around family relations, were inherently patriarchal, and benefitted men’s power in the household over women. Such inequalities are present in a couple’s interactions, from men earning more money, to women burdened with the majority of the child and house care. More equal relationships could be found if women were partners with each other, as lovers and comrades.
Sexuality represented another division in the feminist movement, popularized by the slogan “feminism is the theory, lesbianism is the practice.” Millett published her book Sita in 1977, which was a personal memoir about a female lover and her exploration of her own sexuality. Her writing also explored her own mental health issues, such as her book The Loony-Bin Trip in 1990, which dealt with her bipolar diagnosis. This book also shows how institutional discrimination has historically been used in labeling women mentally ill, especially those who fought for their independence and equality….
When disaster strikes and people appear to lose everything, there is an impulse to send them anything. In this piece, Amanda Fehlbaum examines why people feel a need to help after a natural disaster and why donating stuff (as opposed to money) may not be such a great idea.
I was born and raised in Texas. I have friends all over the state, including in and around Houston, where Hurricane Harvey recently unleashed devastation and catastrophic flooding of unprecedented proportions. While my loved ones are currently fine, many others have not been so fortunate.
Disasters are considered both internal and external to a social system. Pictures of the destruction are disseminated across the media and individuals’ traumatic stories are told. People see the devastation and want to know how they can help, so they seek to make donations. While many people donate money, some are uncomfortable with sending cash, uncertain how the funds may be used or perhaps misappropriated. Others feel that they lack funds, but they want to provide something, so they look around their house for items to give.
Why Do People Help?
Altruism is concern with the welfare with others. A specific type of altruism is deployed during disasters: situational altruism. As defined by Russell R. Dynes (1994), situational altruism occurs when people believe there are new victims in need of assistance and that existing resources are inadequate to meet those victims’ needs. Media feed into this belief, emphasizing the scope of tragedy, helplessness, anti-social behavior (e.g., looting, price-gouging) and destruction of routine. As a result, viewers’ altruistic behavior is encouraged. Dynes (1994:4) writes:
- The reality which is socially constructed confirms that “something” bad has happened; that many undeserving people are now victims; that these victims need, and more importantly deserve help and that help is not likely to come from the local community since helping institutions and their capacity to deal with problems has been damaged.
The impression given is not only is altruistic behavior needed in this situation, but it is essential.
How can a sociological perspective help us understand the recent events in Charlottesville? In this post, Stephanie Medley-Rath explores how a symbolic interactionist perspective can be useful for understanding the meaning making of symbols and words.
When I was a college freshman, I enrolled in introduction to sociology. In our sociology textbook, there was a pictures of this:
I was absolutely struck by this image. I had never seen a photograph of Americans giving the Nazi salute. Note, that I called it the Nazi salute. In my mind, and for most living Americans it is the Nazi salute because that is the imagery we are familiar with and we have less familiarity with the Bellamy salute. Upon closer examination, (i.e., a Wikipedia search) I learned that the Bellamy salute and the Nazi salute are not precisely the same. Regardless, they are close enough that in 1942, the Bellamy salute was replaced with the hand over the heart gesture Americans now use when reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. The meaning of the Bellamy salute changed because of the Nazi use of a similarly styled salute.
Symbols & Meaning Making
The meaning of other symbols also changes and the very same symbol may hold different meaning for different groups. Let’s consider the Confederate flag. I grew up in the Midwest and I don’t remember folks in my hometown flying the Confederate flag or having any particular opinion on the flag. My only memory of the flag prior to attending college was a co-worker who chose to have the Confederate flag engraved on her class ring. She thought it was pretty. I thought it was a bit strange to put a flag of the Confederacy on a class ring, but she was originally from the South. As older teenagers we had different perspectives on the flag neither of which seemed politicized (to our knowledge, anyway). I suspect the Confederate flag also reminded her of home and helped remind her that she was Southern even if living in the Midwest. I suspect she could be a strong proponent of the “Heritage, not hate” meaning of the flag and other symbols of the Confederacy. Or she could be a strong proponent of the racist uses of Confederate symbols….
Chester Bennington, lead singer of the band Linkin Park, took his life last week. In this essay, Nathan Palmer reflects on the social pressure he felt to hide his feelings (and love for Linkin Park) and how he came to embrace being an “emo kid.”
I had to read the headline three times before my brain could make sense of it. It knocked the wind out of me when it finally registered. Chester Bennington was gone. He took his own life.
When my emotions flooded in and took over, I did what I had done so many times before; I put my headphones on and listened to Linkin Park. Chester and his bandmates composed songs that remain the soundtrack to my feelings. Chester’s lyrics of pain and trauma had always carried weight, but now they were haunting.
I have been a Linkin Park fan since their debut album, but I’m ashamed to admit that I kept my fandom secret. In 2000 when their first album came out, the band was part of the rap/rock hybrid genre called “Nu Metal” which included cheesy acts like Limp Bizkit and Kid Rock. I liked almost all of these Nu Metal artists, but the entire genre quickly fell out of favor. Nu Metal became a guilty pleasure that I kept between me and my iPod.
Linkin Park’s sound evolved, and as their Nu Metal peers faded away, they continued to make great music (their One More Light was the number one album on the Billboard 200 last month). Despite their popularity, or perhaps because of it, critics mocked Linkin Park for most of their career. Online and amongst the people I hung out with in my youth, being a fan of Linkin Park wasn’t cool. Linkin Park fans were thought to be “emo kids" who moped around with black hair and finger nails blaming everyone other than themselves for how awful they perpetually felt. “Cheer up emo kid” memes tied to the band (like this one) were used to smack down anyone who dared to give voice to their feelings. As soon as I learned of the grief Linkin Park fans faced, I kept my love of the band a secret.
I’m a Two Faced Man
I have (at least) two selves; the one that I am on the inside and the one that I show other people. When I was a little kid I, for the most part, said what I thought, felt what I felt, and did what I wanted to do. As I grew up and began to care about what others thought of me, I learned that there were parts of my self that I would be ridiculed, ostracized, or punished for expressing. If I wanted to fit in, be popular, impress people, or just be left alone, I had to craft a public persona that conformed to my friends and family’s expectations.
In this piece, guest author Albert Fu discusses recent controversies over the casting of actors for super hero movies.
I am a huge fan of Marvel’s movies, television characters, and comic books. However, I am keenly aware that superheroes – like all cultural icons – are produced by a society in which not all racial/ethnic groups are equally represented.
You may have heard of some of the different controversies regarding race and casting decisions for Marvel’s movies and television programs. Before Finn Jones was cast as Iron Fist, there was an online campaign to cast an Asian-American actor to portray the character. Last year, controversy erupted upon the release of a Doctor Strange trailer that featured Tilda Swinton, a white English woman, depicting the Ancient One, a character born in a fictional village in the Himalayas. To many Swinton was playing a traditionally Asian character in yellow face. Once the movie came out, an online exchange between comedian Margaret Cho and Tilda Swinton regarding the casting was made public. There was also a negative reaction to Zendaya Coleman’s rumored casting as Mary Jane Watson in the upcoming Spider-Man film. It was argued by some that Mary Jane could only be played by a white woman. I could go on here, because there have been many other similar controversies about the race of actors hired to play Marvel characters, but I think you get the gist.
Race, Representation & Social Structure
Why is there controversy? Part of the controversy stems from the fact that Hollywood has a long history of avoiding stories focused on people of color, excluding characters of color from their scripts, and casting white actors to play the few characters of color that have made it into their films. For some fans, they saw the re-interpretation of beloved characters as an opportunity for Marvel to deal with the racist and Orientalist origins of many characters in their comic book universe. Yet, for other fans, the mere suggestion of “racebending” beloved characters was an attack on their subculture and beloved Marvel characters.
Using Howard Becker’s labeling theory, Beverly Yuen Thompson combines a sociological analysis of the literary novel The Outsiders, about rivaling youth subcultures, on the eve of the book’s fiftieth anniversary.
On April 24th, 1967, S. E. Hinton published the coming-of-age novel The Outsiders, when only eighteen herself. The publisher had her use initials so as to disguise the gender of the author of a male-centric, gang-oriented novel, so as not to discourage the target audience of teenage boys and male reviewers. This was not uncommon practice at the time, in a literary-world decidedly male-oriented. Against the backdrop of the mid-1960s in Tulsa, Oklahoma, The Outsiders takes the perspective of members of the under-dog gang the “greasers”, as they engage in various rumbles with their arch-enemy, the “socs,” or the well-off, white, athletic students who dominate the social hierarchy of the high school. The esteemed movie director Francis Ford Coppola directed both the 1983 movie, and a 1990 television series adaption of The Outsiders, thus maintaining the story’s resonance for new generations.
Both the novel and the film present a bleak picture of American society in the mid 1960s, which, retrospectively, can be viewed as an anecdote to the baby boomer nostalgia of other renderings of the period in television shows such as Happy Days (1974-1984), Laverne and Shirley (1976-1983) and George Lucas’ American Graffiti (1973). Here we encounter an America of broken homes, where parents are strangely invisible or absent and where the young people wantonly roam the streets. So much of The Outsiders is about boundaries, both real and symbolic. The landscape is divided by fences and train lines, but it is the imagined and real lines of class, gender and age which present us with a divided middle America. And it is not hard to imagine in a time of wall building, that the young protagonists, now aged and retired, of the The Outsiders came to form the fodder of more recent political battles between elitism and populism….
Using symbolic interaction theory as a basis, Jesse Weiss examines declining environmental sentiment in the United States and explains that personal and cultural denial of global warming are having an impact.
As the 47th anniversary of Earth Day approaches, questions of the effectiveness of nearly fifty years of environmentalism must be raised. While Americans know more about their relationship with the physical environment than any other generation, their support for sustainability seems to be waning. On March 25, 2017, President Trump signed an executive order overturning federal regulations limiting the coal power industry. This move came as no surprise to any casual observer of the previous presidential election, as rhetoric of the like was common from the then Republican candidate. For this, the candidate was wildly cheered and was subsequently elected president of the United States. This support is not particularly surprising considering the significant changes that American environmental sentiments have undergone in recent years.
According to research published in 2006, as many as 80 percent of Americans espoused pro-environmental values. A decade later, according to Gallup, the number of Americans who identified as environmentalist dipped to 42 percent. While opposition to environmentalism has existed since the 1980s, recent support for policies that are overtly anti-environment represent public sentiments that have evolved from backlash to outright denial. So, in a time when there is more information available about the harmful impact that human society has on the bio-physical world, why are people choosing to ignore it?
Denial, Not Just a River in Africa
Part of the explanation to this phenomenon can be found in what Stanley Cohen (2011) calls implicatory denial. According to Cohen, atrocities like global warming can elicit negative emotions such as fear, guilt, and helplessness. Rather than dealing with these feelings, many individuals choose to ignore and even deny that which is psychologically damaging. The impact of this individual denial is the creation of a larger culture of denial that exists in the United States. This has allowed many Americans to keep climate change at a distance. Lack of knowledge is no longer the issue, as access to scientific information about climate change is literally a click away. The standard of living in democratic societies like the United States has allowed many the luxury of simply choosing not to pay attention to the reality of the state of the physical environment. It seems as though many simply do not want to know.
In this essay, Jesse Weiss evaluates the symbolic representation of Marvel Comic’s Captain America as depicted in the recent film Captain America: Civil War. Drawing from the research of Peggy McIntosh, Weiss explains that Captain America can be seen as a symbol of white privilege.
Never has fiction seemed more representative of my reality than it is now. As voting results from the 2016 Presidential election came in, they indicated that working class white voters exerted themselves in support the Republican candidate. Making up almost one third of the electorate, whites without a college degree overwhelmingly voted Republican, representing a 14 percent increase from 2012. It could be argued that this election was meant to reassert white privileges that some may believe were lost in the last eight years of the Obama Administration. While some rejoice, others protest in what seems to be an ideological war of words, prompting many to make sense of “what is going on.” Is it possible that some of the answers lie in the pages of the comics and the movies based on them?
In 2006 and 2007, Marvel published a series of comic books that pitted two iconic heroes against each other in a battle of powers and ideologies. On one side was Captain America, the performance enhanced super soldier and defender of truth, justice, and the American way. On the other side was Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist with a technologically advanced suit of armor. The ideological clash between the two divided the Marvel Universe right down the middle and centered on who should have the power to regulate the actions of superheroes. Fast forward ten years and this comic book event came to be depicted in the Marvel Cinematic Universe in Captain America: Civil War.
Captain America: Civil War was widely praised and millions saw the movie in their local cinemas in the summer of 2016. I, like many others, not only saw the film in the theater but also when it was released on DVD later that fall. It was upon this second viewing that I came to see the plot of the film differently. Maybe it was the way that the 2016 Presidential election catapulted race back into the public consciousness or the fact that I just lectured about it in class, but I started to see Captain America (aka Steve Rogers) differently. The hero of the film may actually represent something that many experience but few discuss openly. Is it possible that Steve Rogers may not protect the interests of Americans, at least not all of Americans? Could it be that Captain America is actually a symbol of what sociologist Peggy McIntosh (1988) calls privilege?