Beyond The Tramp Stamp

(x-posted at Feministe)

I wouldn’t be surprised if many of the regular readers of Social Science Lite and Feministe cringe upon hearing the phrase “tramp stamp.” I dug through Feministe’s archives, and found this insightful post from Jill back in ’07. She wrote about an issue many of us are all too familiar with: sexist interpretations and judgments of tattoos on women’s bodies.

But a recent conversation with a friend pointed to another “–ism”—latent classism—that undergirds many objections to tattoos.

The conversation began simply enough. We were walking through a mall and noticed a fair amount of body art. We commented on arm bands, lower-back tattoos, and arm sleeves. Interestingly, our judgments of the tattoos differed dramatically: I liked creative tattoos but disliked some awkwardly placed ink, whereas my friend uniformly disapproved of body art.

Our conversation was relatively rational until a single word was uttered: trashy.

“I just think tattoos look trashy,” my friend innocently stated. Fair enough; the ugly tribal arm band we noticed on a young man’s tanned bicep did look a bit corny. But I pressed further. “Why is it trashy?” I asked. “I don’t know. Tattoos just look lower-class to me.” I swear I saw her nose tip up in the air, ever so slightly.

And with that, the floodgates opened.

She explained how she associates tattoos with working class men and women, a sign of their lack of refinement and sophistication. Moreover, the very decision to get a tattoo pointed to their lack of decorum, which she directly associated with their class position. In other words, all poor people are trashy, and their tattoos merely accentuate this universal fact.

I replied, naturally, by putting her classism in check: Does simply having a tattoo—any tattoo—equate with being “trashy,” which signals lower class status? By extension, does that mean that all lower class people are “trashy?” Is being “trashy”—and thus, having a tattoo—simply a byproduct of one’s class position, implying that lower class people uniformly make stupid, unrefined decisions? And are all tattoos “trashy?” Who are we to decide what’s trash, and what’s art? Are certain civilizations and cultures that engage with body art “culturally trashy” and “lower class?” And so on.

My friend’s objections to tattoos were infused by her own classism and normative assessments of “proper” behavior. I put her nonsense in check, but that didn’t exactly dissolve her prejudices. See, her take on tattoos was so fundamentally ingrained in her mind that she had difficulty breaking from her blanket associations. She was beginning to see her classism, and recognize her privilege—but it wasn’t exactly a “light bulb” moment. She could see how her prejudices were classist, but had trouble letting them go.

The end result of this conversation produced just that: a conversation. It’s often hard to draw firm conclusions when dealing with such complex and subjective topics. But it’s an ongoing process. We can’t expect people, like my friend, to immediately abandon their classism; we are social beings, after all, beholden to larger social forces that often influence our desires and prejudices. It’s part and parcel of moral boundary work—a social process of defining in-groups and out-groups, often predicated on the policing of “proper” behavior—that’s learned from an early age. Many whites, for example, would be simply lying if we said we didn’t get nervous when approaching young black males on the street. No matter how much we tell ourselves “This is really racist to fear them just because they’re black,” it’s a gut reaction—one embedded in larger structures of social relations.

Classism—like racism, sexism, and other –isms—persists, no matter how forcefully we call our friends’ prejudices into check. But we still try. And hopefully, after continued and repeated conversations, we’re able to alter our preconceptions and begin to view the social world in a slightly different light. Dismantling interpersonal prejudices is, of course, an ongoing social project.

A Different Kind of Concentration Effect: Mental Health in the Juvenile Justice System

A friend from Amherst passed along a Solomon Moore's NYT article, "Mentally Ill Offenders Strain Juvenile System," and asked SSL to comment on it. The article speaks to the current state of mental health issues within the criminal justice systems. More specifically, the trend of courts to funnel juvenile delinquents who have documented mental health issues into the juvenile criminal justice system instead of hospitals or mental health facilities. In responding to the request, I will speak on the content of the article and the article itself.

First, this is some depressing material: “About two-thirds of the nation’s juvenile inmates—who numbered 92,854 in 2006, down from 107,000 in 1999—have at least one mental illness, according to surveys of youth prisons, and are more in need of therapy than punishment.” These numbers are surprising to me because, admittedly, I tend not to factor in mental illnesses like bipolar disorder when thinking about criminal activity. I think part of the reason why the two are decoupled in my mind is because I always considered (emphasis on the past tense here) certain mental disorders as “problems” of the rich (and white). I am revealing my own biases but when one thinks about how mental disorders, as opposed to physical or medical disorders like diabetes, hypertension, arthritis, and the like, are represented in popular media, the news, and even in schools, “illnesses” become stratified by race and class in the mind. To give one example, think back to when the character Kim from Moesha, says something like “Mama always said that the only thing black folks need is Jesus and Oprah.” I do not speak for all; I am simply relating the abstract image of diseases with their social groupings. Reading this article made me realize even more that such stereotypes, as stereotypes always are, obscure reality.

The fact that so many of the youth in the criminal justice system are suffering from mental illnesses is frightening. For if these documented number are this high, what are the projections for those actually suffering but have not received any form of documented help as of yet. However, what saddens me more than the staggering statistics is the slippery slope recent fiscal cutbacks have created for this population. In the article, Moore highlights the fact that since the incorporation of powerful “antipsychotic medications coincided with a national movement to close public mental hospitals” across the nation. What is worse now, given our “we so broke” phase of the recession, more and more youth who are being funneled into the criminal justice system instead of mental health facilities because mental health facilities (both at the community and state levels) are harder hit by budget cutbacks. Even parents have opted to send their children to get help in juvenile facilities because community based facilities are disappearing. In other words, instead of being in an environment with trained mental health professionals, juvenile offenders are instead in a farm environment: prison guards as trained herders, wardens as farm owners, and padded cells as one’s pen.

This “farm” metaphor leads to a different from of concentration effect. In the study of urban poverty, to channel Harvard Sociologist William Julius Wilson, concentration effect is the term used to capture the consequences of the historical social transformation of the inner city which resulted in the disproportionate concentration of the most disadvantaged segments of the urban black population, creating a social milieu significantly different from the environment that existed in all black communities several decades before. This current social milieu is one of rampant crime, high violence, and other social dislocation that plague inner city environments. The prison is yet another one of these institutionalized environments where the concentration of disadvantage leads to increased aberrant behavior.

For those who already suffer from mental disorders being treated like chattel and placed with others who are experiencing the “jail house effect” only places fuel on the fire. To put it simply, it compounds the problem further. It is not surprising that one hears accounts like “he’s been in 130 fights since he’s been with us” (though I think 130 may be an exaggerated number). Such new policy lines by judges, according to Moore, to argue that juvenile are better than mental health facilities ignores such a reality.

With respect to that article itself, I find it troubling that race and class are at once conflated and implicit. I find this problematic because nowhere in the article are we given demographic characteristics to access exactly who the juvenile delinquents are. Though it may not be point of the article, because we are left in the dark (literally and figuratively) with facts about the “who,” we also do not know if even in this disadvantaged population if everyone is placed on the same track into the jails and not mental health facilities. In other words, is there tracking even amongst those who are tracked?

However, the question becomes how do we know that the population is disadvantaged? The answer, which troubles me as well, is because of the offhand comments included in the article. Take for instance, including what the grandmother said about her troubled grandson and then the psychiatrist who Moore uses to close the article. We are left with the picture of abandoned children and helpless (or hopeless) parents.

“I’ve begged D.Y.S. to get him into a mental facility where they’re trained to deal with people like him,” said his grandmother, who asked not to be identified because of the stigma of having a grandson who is mentally ill. “I don’t think a lockup situation is where he should be, although I don’t think he should be on the street either.” (Grandmother)

“Often Daddy is nowhere to be found, Mommy might be in jail,” said Daniel Connor, a psychiatrist for the Connecticut juvenile corrections system. “The home phone is cut off. The parent speaks another language, so it’s often hard to figure out exactly what’s going on with each kid.” (Psychiatrist).

With its faults, I think Moore forces us to look at how the changing policies within the courts are dovetailing with the fiscal reality of communities, states, and the nation as a whole at the expense of those who are in need of help the most. For in this case, the help these young individuals need are beyond changes they can engender themselves.

The 40-Year Fall of the Black Middle Class

(Administrator's Note: The following piece was written by SSL Guest Contributor Steven Brown, an incoming graduate student in Harvard's department of sociology. He can be reached at ksbrown2@gmail.com)

After the passage of the Civil Rights Act in the mid-60s, large numbers of African-Americans began working for manufacturers like GM and Ford – jobs that did not require college education, but still paid strong living wages. Because of these companies, with their ever-growing workforce and strong unions, the black middle class of the day grew rapidly.

But now, forty years later, that same demographic segment is struggling, according to a piece published in the New York Times magazine in late June – "G.M., Detroit, and the Fall of the Black Middle Class". The article follows one man facing potential layoffs from a G.M. plant closing, highlighting him as representative of the large black middle class supported by Detroit car manufacturers. Marvin Powell is almost 40, married with two kids, with a mortgage, and making about $50,000 a year. He started working for G.M. at age 26, a few years after dropping out of college.

Two things strike me about this article. The first is the claim that Mr. Powell and others like him are middle class, and the second is the argument that the faltering auto industry is causing the black middle class to suffer. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying that black auto workers were not at the forefront of upwardly mobile African-Americans. What I am saying is that what defined middle class a generation ago doesn’t hold up so well now.

Back then, earning a living wage and being able to mortgage a home of your own was a pretty reliable way of measuring middle class. Nowadays, being part of the middle class seems to be more about education and occupational prestige than about income. (Think about popular notions of white-collar vs. blue-collar.) Keeping in mind those who discuss the importance of wealth, being middle class today seems more about creating opportunities and weathering storms than about how much you take home every month. Just last year, then-Senator Obama was getting large amounts of press over his inability to court the “white, working-class voter.” A Pew Report described “white, working-class” as those without college degrees, making under $50,000 a year, and were often popularized in the media as living as union-members living and working in the Rust Belt and Texas. In other words, if Marvin Powell were white, he’d be working class. But since he’s black, he’s middle class.

To show my hand, I’ve long suspected the idea that there were different popular and empirical standards for what constitutes a “black” versus a “white” or mainstream middle class. There are indeed grounds for differentiation, like the fact that blacks were only very recently integrated into the middle rungs of the American workforce in any meaningful way. Also, the median household income for blacks in 2000 was only $29,530, compared to a national median of $46,000. By that standard, the auto worker’s salary looks quite substantial. But this differentiation is problematic. Different race-based standards under the umbrella of “middle class” obscure the distance between relatively well off blacks and non-blacks. To use a crude metaphor, if most of the people in your neighborhood are 5 feet tall, just because you’re 5’6”doesn’t mean that you’re actually tall. You’re not that short, but you’re not that tall either.

I mentioned earlier that a generation ago, being a unionized auto-worker would make you middle class, but not anymore. What changed? The explosion of the service economy (along with service economy wages) that required more sophisticated skills and higher levels of education is one reason. The simultaneous fall of manufacturing during the 70s and 80s is another. Think about how difficult it would be to transition to a non-industrial job after 20-years on a factory floor without a bachelor’s degree or technical certificate – a hard task made harder if you happen to be a black man looking for a job.

In addition to employment trends, social scientists developed more sophisicated ways of understanding class mobilty and security, putting more emphasis on education and considering wealth and assets, “last hired, first fired,” and continued job discrimination (not to mention numerous residence-based issues). A revisionist take by today’s methods of measuring class could show that black auto workers were never securely middle class. My guess is that black workers were disproportionately hit when foreign competition ate into the market share and caused layoffs. I would also assume that black workers would have a harder time moving if one plant closed in Flint and another opened in Mississippi.

Furthermore, the “cost” of being middle-class has also risen substantially. The cost of owning and buying a home, the cost of re-locating for work (as many in the service sector do), and the costs of sending children to school have all gone up quite a bit. And then there are the issues that affect the black middle class disproportionately, like owning homes in areas where values rise slowly, if not eventually decline.

My argument is not that the current failures of the auto industry are causing “the fall” of better-off black folks, but that the grounds have been shifting underneath their feet for decades. This segment of the black middle class has been falling for years, first out of the middle class, and now possibly and tragically out of their way of life.

Battling the Financial Crisis: Students not Salaries. Really?

“Salaries and perks not students” should be the slogan for all Amherst faculty members during these troubled, financial times. The reality, however, is that there is a group of faculty who seem to be reversing this mantra.

Amherst College has been one of the front runners in admission and financial aid policies for the last decade. It was the first and/or one of the firsts to go need blind for students whose families make below certain income levels and to offer “no loan” packages to students who come from families who earn less than certain amounts of money. Amherst made history yet again the past two years with two major announcements: No loans to all students and need-blind admissions for international students. It does all this with (before the crisis) an almost two billion dollar endowment. Again, Amherst has been a front-runner in admissions and financial aid. Harvard, with the largest endowment (fifteen times larger than Amherst’s) Yale coming in “close” behind, do not operate under the same principles though their packages are substantially better than other institutions. In fact, only Princeton, Davidson, and now Williams are, I think, the only schools that are now true “no loan institutions.”

The problem now is that now that the financial belt has to be squeezed a little tighter because of the economic climate, people are, if I may use a phrase from home, showing their true colors. As with other schools, Amherst has enacted a number of financial restrictions to save money. For instance, they are in a pseudo-hiring freeze and there will be no raises for faculty or staff this year. These latter two actions are actually quite common for institutions today. I leaned that both President Tony Marx and Dean of Faculty Greg Call reduced their personal salaries until better financial times. The negative side, however, does not come from draconian, top down measures to save money like cutting departments or laying off large number of workers, rather the worst response has been that of a group of faculty members.

To save their money they want to, one may say, roll back time. More specifically, instead of exploring more options, according to some, they want to reduce the moneys dedicated to admission and financial aid, the two departments that make Amherst what it is today, the two departments that keeps Amherst in the news more so than any other, the two departments that uphold the alma mater, terras irradient, more so than any other. This group of faculty wants to restructure how financial aid is done, not universally, but in a targeted manner.

I quote a student who alerted the student body to these suggestions and who has rallied other students to stand against, not this group of faculty, but their recommendations and suggestions:

“In response to the ABC report, which recommended only small changes to financial aid targets, a group of faculty members have circulated [a] letter [sic] amongst themselves to suggest to the Trustees that we end need-blind financial aid for international students, stop recruiting in areas with high aid-eligible students (a.k.a. poor students), and start giving out loans. Although they preach sharing the sacrifice throughout the Amherst community, they don't voice any sacrifice they are willing to make."

Some may consider the latter move racist. I do not necessarily (but reserve the right to revisit this). However, I would be mistaken if I do no state explicitly that such a policy change would have disproportionate effects on minority students who are, just like the rest of the population, disproportionately from lower socioeconomic backgrounds than their white peers, and low-income white students who seem always to be left out of these conversations. With respect to minority students, blacks in particular, this is not mere posturing as in thier book Black Wealth/White Wealth, Sociologists Melvin Oliver and Thomas Shapiro, studying the sociology of wealth, has shown that even blacks and whites with comparable levels of education and incomes have different levels of wealth with blacks being disadvantaged because of historical and current racial policies. Naturally, this disparity is even more evident the lower one goes down the socioeconomic ladder. Latinos face similar obstacles as well and low-income whites, again, are absent from many of these discusions though both groups do slighlty better than low-income blacks. What I argue, as has been done before, is that such a “nonracial,” economic policy change would surely decrease the number of minority student you attract to your school. To not send admissions officers to disadvantaged areas, to those areas where students, despite being socially isolated, manage to make it, but still host information sessions at Choate, Exeter, Andover and the like will have racial ramifications. Of this, I have no doubt. Again, the intent, I believe, is not racist but the effect will be, with the blunt of the impact being absorbed by those economically disadvantaged minority and white students.

The faculty should ask themselves would Amherst still lead the country in being home to students from Questbridge, arguably the best enrichment program in the nation that helps students get into top colleges without having them leave thier neighborhoods? Would Amherst still lead the nation in Pell Grant recipients? Although focusing on Amherst and recruiting students from disadvantaged populations, this is a much larger problem. We have seen how, because of budget cuts, schools seem to be the most affected. I wrote about the financial times and the changing role of summer schools. But that spoke elementary, middle, and high school education. This related issue is that of the next step: acquiring the credentials needed to acquire middle class jobs (those this is not guaranteed anymore given that the BA is the new high school diploma). Amherst is less than 2000 students but it has the endowment of a much larger institution. The question this raises is what are other, less endowed schools doing whose financial aid and admission policies are not as generous?

With respect to the reversal of the need-blind admission for international students, (as above with respect to the issue of class and race) I am hesitant to come down on either side of labeling such a claim xenophobic. “Xenophobic,” like racist, is a loaded term and labeling this suggestion as xenophobic is complicated. I withhold judgment until conversations, discussions, or debates are held. My lack of familiarity with international issues and tensions with respect to international students and colleges are restraining my judgment. Thoughts are welcome.

Nevertheless, this matter brings up an interesting question. Should many of these elite institutions with very large endowments, that are need-blind for U.S. citizens and residents, remain need-aware for international students? Although this would cost slightly more, it is possible. Unfortunately, this was not even on the table before many of these institutions suffered due to the crisis. In this shrinking and increasingly globalized world, can we afford to keep international students at bay, especially when we preach attaining global perspectives and send students abroad? Should these institutions really show favoritism for U.S. citizens and residents? These are questions that most schools will probably not wrestle with for some time.

I write this post not to bash Amherst or the thoughts of this group of faculty members. Amherst is my alma mater and has opened many doors for me. As I was quoted saying before, it allowed me to rewrite the narrative of my life. However, during these times I propose that we all pay closer attention to the ways in which our alma maters—and colleges more generally—are slimming down their expenditures from their endowments and speak out against policies that will disproportionately disadvantage (in this case in admissions and financial aid) already disadvantaged populations.