RUNAKO: Can I have some food?
JANE (surprised and loudly): Some grub? Didn’t I tell you to eat all you could at Lavina’s house?
RUNAKO: I did but [didn’t like what was there].
JANE: There’s no grub. I told ya’ll . . .
RUNAKO: I ain’t going to eat hot dogs!
JANE (angrily): Say what?
RUNAKO: I don’t like hot dogs. (Louder, more defensive) I don’t eat hot dogs. You can ask my mom. I don’t eat hot dogs.
JANE (very loudly and angrily): Your mom should have said something before we fixed all them damn hot dogs. I’m telling you something right now; I ain’t going for it, all right?13
Runako is briefly distracted by Alexis. Both are sitting on the single bed (along with Ms. McAllister):
RUNAKO (to Alexis): Keep off! I swear to god, you don’t give anyone any room.
Ms. McAllister believes she hears Alexis curse.
JANE (swatting her daughter on the legs with the newspaper): I’m going to smack your ass, hear?
ALEXIS: I didn’t say that, Mom!
JANE: Don’t [pull] it in here. You know right from wrong. Now I’ll go upside [hit] your damn head now.
In a rare move, Harold’s mother then asks Runako what is troubling him. Since she (along with Harold and I) had taken the bus back, while Runako had been given a ride back from the birthday party with Alexis and others in a car, she wonders if something might have happened in the car:
JANE: What happened in the car, Runako? What happened at the car? What happened at Lavina’s house?
RUNAKO: (mumbling) Nothing.
JANE: Then why the attitude?
RUNAKO: She [Alexis] getting on my nerves.
JANE: Runako, you get on everyone’s nerve and nobody talk to you like that. (Short silence; basketball game continues on the TV.)
JANE [to all present]: Didn’t I tell you before ya’ll left?
ALEXIS: Right.
By the McAllister family’s standards, this exchange is unusual on several counts. It is lengthy, it involves a child challenging (although indirectly) an adult, and it captures Harold’s mother deliberately soliciting information from one of the children.
When Ms. McAllister uses directives to protect her children and to train them, her manner is curt by middle-class standards. In warning Alexis and Runako to ignore adults in the housing project who are known to have problems, for instance, she is brief and explicit, but not unkind:
JANE: Who Rip? Rip is drunk. I told [you] about Rip. (A bit later) He was drunk before three o’clock today.
ALEXIS: He drive a Jeep. He drove Jerome up here.
RUNAKO: He was what?
ALEXIS: He was cursing at me.
JANE: Let me tell you something about Rip. (Yelling) DON’T PAY HIM NO MIND, OKAY! He’s got a problem too.
Neither the relatively limited amount of speech we observed nor Ms. McAllister’s tendency to yell or be brusque are indications of strained or stunted emotional connections among family members. If anything, the unspoken emotions between adults and children in the McAllister household often seemed more palpable to us than the connections in families with a great deal of speech, such as the Tallingers. The following example provides a sense of how adeptly—and routinely—the McAllisters communicate without words:
Harold has a paper plate with a hot dog and chips in his left hand and a canned drink of soda in his right. With his right hand, he is trying to open the soda. And all of a sudden, his hand slips and the soda jolts up and out of the can, [spilling] on his hand and the bench. His mother, who is just a few feet away, catches his eye. They both laugh together at his uncoordinated lurch with the soda. It is a friendly, warm laugh, a soft poking fun at him for his contorted move with his hand. His mom then takes the stuff to the grill, and Harold shakes the soda off his hand.
Everyone in the McAllister household appreciates a good joke and Ms. McAllister, especially, seems alert to the potential for humor in any situation. Nevertheless, the boundaries between adults and children are clearly delineated and carefully maintained. A premium is placed on being respectful toward one’s elders. Children automatically refer to adults, especially women, using respectful terms such as Miss Latifa or Miss Jane. In addition, Ms. McAllister does not allow the children to curse.14
TALKING THE TALK: LANGUAGE USE AMONG PEERS
Unlike the directive-laden interactions that occur between poor (and working-class) adults and children, language use among peers tends to be free flowing. In many situations when children are off by themselves, they banter back and forth; boys, especially, enjoy boasting to one another. On the basketball court, Harold sheds his quiet demeanor. His whole persona—including his language—seems transformed. A talented player, Harold is both surprisingly quick (given his stocky build) and surprisingly aggressive (given his at-home behavior).
Harold called a “double” (double dribble) on Jarrad. Jarrad protests as he throws Harold the ball. (If you make the call, you get the ball.) Jarrad (angrily): “Man, I didn’t double—nigga, you blind as shit!” Harold stops bouncing the ball and walks over to Jarrad. Harold (shouting): “You did, man. Just like this.” (Harold starts to dribble the ball; he spins, then fakes, then he does an exaggerated double dribble.) “I seen you!” None of the other players were asked for their opinion, nor did they offer it. Harold keeps the ball and checks it back into play. (Usually if there was a dispute over a foul, the play would be played over. This was not the case. Harold took the ball.) A foul was called on Harold, “Walk.” (He committed fouls by walking his butt off.) Harold (protesting): “I walk? Nigga, you crazy. See if you get the ball a—I’m a do the play over. I ain’t gotta cheat.” Harold keeps the ball. No one protests.
Harold and his friends have more autonomy from adults than their middle-class counterparts. Adults often are not present, and when they are, they do not typically intervene in children’s interactions. This is clear, for instance, in the field-worker’s description of Harold and his (common-law) stepfather, Keith, shooting baskets together one afternoon:
Harold and Keith were very laid back. Neither was adamant about getting rebounds, nor were they particularly interested in displaying their dribbling skills. Harold was sinking a pretty good amount of shots. Keith was not as skilled.
As this casual shooting continues, about ten young men, varying in age from about seven to fifteen, join in.
Once the others arrive (they all seem to arrive at once), the pace of the game changes. It becomes more showboatish and competitive. Although there is not an actual game going on (one in which the score is kept), definite defensive and offensive strategies are executed. For instance, on numerous occasions Harold would tell one of his friends to “Come get some.” This functioned as a competitive invitation to . . . [try] to prevent Harold from making a basket. Harold is extremely talented with a basketball.
Harold escalates the competition by presenting a second challenge:
Harold offers the challenge: “Come on out here so I can break your ankles.”15 This challenge was directed to any and all takers, young and old alike. The older man [who had joined the group], to assist Harold in finding a taker, calls out, “Jarrad—go out there and show what you know. Don’t let him take your heart.” (Notice the cultural text, which implies that one must be tough or macho in order to be socially accepted.) Jarrad retorts (while flagging Harold—that is, moving his arm in a swiping manner—usually understood as a derogatory gesture), “Harold ain’t got nothin’ for me.” He walks over to Harold and posts him up (assumes a defensive position—crouching directly in front of Harold with his arm extended.) His eyes shift from Harold’s eyes to the ball.
As the action unfolds, the others on the court, who had been making jump shots with the other ball, gradually stop to watch.
All eyes were on Harold and Jarrad. Harold is getting hyped and is trying to intimidate Jarrad (bouncing the ball vigorously). “You ready for me to break those ankles! Watch this, y�
��all.” (Everyone was already watching.)
Harold proceeds forward to the basket without warning. Jarrad swipes at the ball. Harold teases him, “You ready for me to take it to you, young bol?”16 . . . Everywhere Jarrad swats, the ball is no longer there. . . . It is obvious that Jarrad is no match for Harold. Keith and the other older man glance at each other and smile. Harold is now about four feet away from the basket. He dribbles the ball between his legs in one bounce and passes [it] around his back, spins around, runs while dribbling for about two steps, and then goes for the lay up. He misses.
Although Harold misses the shot, he still receives various forms of praise or recognition.17 This is manifested in the form of smiles, high fives, and comments such as an enthusiastic, “Damn—did you see that!” and “Jarrad garbage—that nigga can’t play.” . . . Harold strutted (boasting), “Yeah, nigga what? Can’t nobody get with this! I’m breakin nigga’s ankles—young bol’ got skills!”
Harold does indeed have skills—in addition to his ability to dribble, pass, and shoot, he is a good strategist; he is resourceful and creative; he is fluent in the language of the game; and he knows how and when to challenge and taunt. Overall, he is poised and confident on the court. His discourse here is elaborated and embellished. But in his interactions with parents and teachers, the language interactions take a different form. In addition, these talents, while very important in this context, are not as readily translated to the world of educators, employers, or health-care professionals as are the talents his middle-class counterparts acquire in their rounds of organized activities. Off the court, and in the presence of adults, Harold returns to being “plain old Harold,” less forceful, more respectful, and quieter.
THE LANGUAGE OF DISCIPLINE: DIRECTIVES AND THREATS
The tendency for children in poor and working-class homes to respond promptly and wordlessly to directives from adults holds true whether the order is to take a shower, put out the garbage, braid a child’s hair, or eat vegetables. It is also the typical response to verbal discipline, even when accompanied by threats of physical punishment. In the example below, Alexis is scolded by her Aunt Lavina. She offers no rebuttal. In fact, she responds directly only once—with a wordless nod—when her aunt’s question seems to demand it of her. Throughout this episode, Alexis is standing near Lavina’s kitchen table, her hands resting on the top of a wooden chair. Lavina, who conducts her interrogation and delivers her ultimatums without consulting Alexis’s mother, is positioned at the far end of the same table. She is obviously angry; Alexis, ashamed:
LAVINA: Hey, baby. It sounds like you had a bad day at school.
(Runako says something, making fun of Alexis for getting in trouble.)
LAVINA: Shut up, Runako.
LAVINA (turning again to Alexis): What was your problem? Evidently you had a problem; you were dancing around and going all gymnastics or something in class. Huh?
(Alexis does not look up or answer.)
LAVINA: Didn’t we have a talk about this before?
(Alexis does not answer.)
LAVINA: You know, Alexis, behavior is very important. If you can’t behave in school, in elementary school, how are you going to behave when you get older and, and have a job. Hum?
(Alexis does not answer.)
LAVINA (speaks to Runako and then turns back to Alexis): I’ve been talking to you for two months. . . . You always give me the same old excuse. Why you acting out?
(The room is silent. Lavina is staring at Alexis. Alexis is staring at the chair.)
LAVINA (repeating herself): I’m really, really getting tired of it. Why you acting out like this?
(Alexis remains silent. Runako goes in and out of the kitchen, adds sugar to the Kool-Aid. . . . )
LAVINA: There’s only a few [days] left in the school year. Please don’t let me hear, alright?
(Alexis nods.)
LAVINA: I really don’t want to have to beat you up on the ass. That’s like a last resort.
In a scolding, as in other interactions between adults and children, the adult talks. The child listens. Children do not, as in middle-class families, test the limits of adults by probing, arguing, and questioning adults. One unintended consequence of this approach is that poor and working-class children typically do not develop the same range of verbal skills their middle-class counterparts acquire. They have little opportunity to practice negotiating with adults and little call to learn to summarize and present their own ideas, opinions, and excuses. The habit of not questioning adults also means that children in these homes are less likely to learn new vocabulary.
Physical discipline
When Lavina backs up her directive with a threat to “beat” Alexis, she is using a strategy common among adults in the poor and working-class families we observed. Ms. McAllister takes a similar tack, especially if a child’s misbehavior provokes her anger. Even sixteen-year-old Lori is not immune:
Jane is angry. (Jane walks up to Lori and stands directly in front of Lori’s face. Jane is mad and loud.) “I better not see you in none of them niggas’ car down the hill, or I’m a slide (punch) you right upside your head, and I mean it.”
Ms. McAllister, like her sister Lavina, views the administration of physical punishment as helpful and appropriate to any child under her care. She does not hesitate to discipline her nephews when it seems appropriate, as in this instance at the reunion picnic:
Guion is sitting on a bench, crying. Although I am standing right next to him I cannot hear him (because of the music), but I see tears streaming down his cheek. As Jane walks past, she leans over (to) where Runako is sitting and punches Runako with her balled up fist in the chest and yells at him (I can hear that) “Don’t beat on Guion!”
Indeed, physical punishment is so commonly administered by the adults in the family that the children hold animated discussions over which adult is the strictest. One night at dinner time, the children are seated at the table and Ms. McAllister is walking around the living room. A discussion that begins focused on a picture of an aunt dressed in bell bottoms and clogs evolves into a comparison of strategies of physical punishment:
Jane says she don’t like clogs because Mom-mom used to “beam” her on the forehead and it would leave a mark. Guion asks who is [harsher], Mom-mom or Pop-pop. This leads to an animated discussion of the grandparents’ various strategies for beating kids. Guion and Runako and Harold and Alexis all compare notes and argue back and forth. Jane mostly listens. (She never disagrees with children or defends adults.) The kids talk about marks being left on the forehead and other parts of the body.
As this discussion of discipline across generations suggests, physical punishment is a common feature of the children’s lives. Ms. McAllister also uses physical confrontation, and threats of physical confrontation, as a mechanism for resolving serious conflicts in her own life. One evening—the night before Harold is to leave for camp—she reaches her limit of tolerance with her twin sister, Jill. Her sister, she discovers, has taken packages of T-shirts that Hank bought for Harold and sold them. Jill also cut the cord to the air conditioner, so the unit no longer functions. Ms. McAllister, who is extremely angry, denounces her sister. Lori, Harold, Alexis, and a field-worker observe the fight from the beginning; Lenny shows up part of the way through it. The field notes capture the mounting tension and barely restrained violence:
(Jane and Jill do some serious yelling downstairs for about ten minutes.):
JANE: You fucking bitch! You steal Harold’s clothes, huh?
JILL: Shut up, Jane.
JANE: Nobody but you around here go stealin’ from my kids! I’m about to get you upside the fuckin’ head!
JILL: I ain’t fuckin’ stealin’ from you! Don’t fuckin’ accuse me!
JANE: . . . I’m sick of your stupid fuckin’ games. I’m gonna get me a stick and you’re gonna get out before I fuck you up!
JILL: Nobody puttin’ me the fuck out!
In the middle of this, Alexis is hollering from
the bathroom that she needs toilet paper. Ms. McAllister leaves, goes to a neighbor’s house and borrows a roll. She returns with a large wooden stick.
JANE: I got me a stick now! You fuckin’ hear?!
(Jill doesn’t answer.)
JANE (yelling): You gettin’ the fuck out! . . .
There’s a lull as Jane searches [for Harold’s missing shirts]. Lori turns to me (I’ve slowly come downstairs as I heard the yelling from Lori’s room; now I stand against the banister wall of the living room). Lori (to me): “Her’s no excuse for it.” She says this with her head down; she looks so sad, like she might cry. Alexis is standing on the second step of the stairs, saying to me: “They always do this. The only thing is, it makes me scared.”18 She looks sad.
The density of the housing project also permits neighbors to hear the conflict and a small group gathers outside. The conflict escalates when Keith arrives home. He and Jill have a loud (physical) entanglement, but by this time the children and the field-worker have left the apartment and gone to the basketball court. They return a little later and sweep up the glass and move the broken furniture to the street as per an order issued by Ms. McAllister.19
This series of events was painful for all involved. Ms. McAllister was embarrassed that the field-worker witnessed the fight. She knew that it had been a frightening experience and wished it could have been avoided.20 But, as she explains to me a few days later, she felt she had little choice. If she is to provide her children with a “home” and not just a “house,” she could not allow her sister to stay.
I ask her, “Is she going to be moving?” She says firmly, “She is going to go.” I say, “It is hard on your nerves.” She says, “This is a house but it got to be a home.”
I say, “Where will she go?” She shakes her head (to indicate she doesn’t know). She says, “The kids won’t come in here when she is here.” She asks me, “Did you ever notice that?” I nod slowly. She says, “I got to make this a home not a house.”
Unequal Childhoods Page 21
