The girls and their parents (along with two guinea pigs, Scratch and Tiny) live on a quiet, circular street lined with large, recently built, two-story suburban homes with a market value of about $200,000 each. The Marshalls’ neighbors include other Black middle-class families as well as white ones. Their beige-colored house has a small lawn and flowers in the front and a large lawn in the back (the girls are pleading with their parents to install a pool). Along with the family’s two cars (a Volvo and a large Sable station wagon), the driveway is home to a basketball hoop. Fern often plays ball there with her friends; sometimes Mr. Marshall joins in. Inside the house are four bedrooms, two and one-half baths, a formal living room with a piano and African art decorating the walls, and a “great room” that opens into the dining area and a large kitchen. This family living area, which is light and airy, has a relaxed feel to it, with a television, director’s chair, and comfortable tan corduroy couch on which the girls may leave a book or a Walkman. A gymnastics balance beam is resting on the floor; people step over it as they move through the family room area.
Each of the girls has her own bedroom, and in each there is a television and a telephone, along with the girls’ collections of CDs, Walkmans, radios, and other electronic toys. In part because of Ms. Marshall’s work, there is a computer in the house. Although the Marshalls’ income is around $100,000 per year, the family, especially Ms. Marshall, often worries about money. We heard many comments about the cost of things and about the lack of job security in the computer industry. The company Ms. Marshall works for has downsized in recent years. She has kept her position, but she knows people who have not.
The Marshalls’ well-to-do, racially integrated, suburban neighborhood is a transitional area. It is near the boundary with the central city and with a large, all-Black middle-class area; on the other side lies a predominantly white residential area. Stacey and Fern attend a local public school that is part of a district known for having good schools; most of the families in the district are white, but about one-quarter are Black, and there is a sprinkling of Asian and Hispanic families. The racial balance of the girls’ daily lives (and of their parents’ lives, as well) varies across settings. In many interactions, all of the key players are Black. Ms. Marshall explains that the girls had many very close white friends when they were younger, but over the years, racial barriers have become more prominent. For Fern, the turning point came in middle school; for Stacey, the shift is just occurring. Their social lives now exclusively involve other African American girls who live in their immediate neighborhood or just a few minutes away. The beauty parlor where the girls go on many Saturdays is all Black. The church the family attends is all Black. The Marshalls also frequently socialize with a close friend of Mr. Marshall who lives in an all-Black part of the city. There are, however, some important and time-consuming parts of the Marshalls’ lives that take place in predominantly white settings, including shopping in retail stores, participating in organized activities, going to summer camps, and taking part in classes in the gifted program at school.
The family is busy. The hectic pace of their lives is similar to that of the Tallinger and Williams families. Gender plays a powerful role in determining the kinds of organized activities in which the children participate. But, in middle-class families, the sheer number of such activities does not appear to vary by gender. Stacey is active in gymnastics. Fern is active in basketball. Both girls attend Sunday school; Stacey is in the church youth choir, which rehearses on Friday nights and performs every third Sunday. Both girls are “junior ushers” at church. During the school year, Fern takes piano lessons; until quite recently, Stacey also took piano. During the summer, the girls move from one elaborate summer camp to another (e.g., gymnastics camp, basketball camp, and horseback riding camp). It is their mother who coordinates the girls’ many different activities.
Like Mr. and Ms. Williams, Mr. and Ms. Marshall prefer to reason with their children rather than to issue directives. Although we occasionally saw the parents exhibit nonverbal frustration, we never heard them yell at the girls or hit them or threaten to hit them. Rather, they seem committed to the idea of helping their children develop as unique, and uniquely talented, individuals. Mr. and Ms. Marshall are reluctant to squelch Stacey’s and Fern’s thoughts or actions, even when the girls’ behavior might strike others as being rude toward adults. The example below describes an episode at the home of close friends, where Ms. Marshall and the field-worker stopped to drop off the girls. The friends’ twenty-year-old son, Mark (whose relationship to Stacey and Fern is similar to that of a cousin), is visiting from California and is having a birthday.
Mark asked everyone how church was. The girls gave a less than enthusiastic reply. Tom (Mark’s father) said, “Now, how about some ice cream and cake, people?” Lorrie and I were trying to extricate ourselves from the proceedings. [Stacey was] sitting in a chair playing with one of those water toys that squirt a jet of air, and the goal is to get all the rings onto one stick. It seemed that Stacey was in a real hurry to have us out of there, because she said, “Good-bye, Mom.”
There is more chatter and more delay as additional attempts are made to encourage Ms. Marshall and the field-worker to stay and join the party:
Then, Stacey said, “Just leave, Mom—I can’t take much more of you.” Even Fern was a little taken aback by that—she told Stacey to hush up. And Tom looked at her disapprovingly as he went to answer the phone that had just started to ring. Lorrie mounted no defense of her own, just sighed, looked at Mark, and said, “Mark, you wanna take them back with you?” Everyone laughed, and Stacey said, “I’ll go to California—can I go to Disneyland?”3
If Stacey’s mother is embarrassed or dismayed by her daughter’s remark, she doesn’t show it. Unlike parents in working-class or poor families, who are comfortable issuing directives, neither Mr. nor Ms. Marshall normally discourages either of their daughters from expressing their feelings simply because those feelings might dismay other adults. Moreover, in other settings, Ms. Marshall directly instructs the girls in strategies for interacting with adults. As we see next, she also works to bring about changes in the way other adults interact with Stacey and Fern.
SELECTING AND CUSTOMIZING CHILDREN’S
LEISURE ACTIVITIES
Most middle-class parents are committed to involving their children in a steady schedule of organized activities attuned to the children’s particular interests. Such activities often last only a matter of weeks; many change with each season. And, in the summer, the number of choices and the amount of time available both rise steeply. Finding out about activities, assessing their suitability, meeting enrollment deadlines, and coordinating transportation is a time-consuming act of labor. In most homes, it is mothers, not fathers, who do this work. This is true even when the mothers are employed full time. Ms. Marshall, for instance, who enrolled her girls in a series of different summer camps, did all of the coordinating and scheduling. Fern’s and Stacey’s camps were located in different parts of the suburbs, and they had different registration dates, forms to fill out, precamp requirements (physicals), specialties, and directors. Although Mr. Marshall will share in the driving if requested, Mr. and Ms. Marshall agree that it is overwhelmingly Ms. Marshall who handles the girls’ lives and their activities, as well as any complaints about Fern’s or Stacey’s institutional experiences.
Ms. Marshall’s efforts on behalf of her daughters are not unusual. Most middle-class mothers undertake similar labor with respect to organized activities. The way in which Stacey came to be involved in gymnastics, for example, is typical in that it takes effort by the mother.
When she was starting third grade I couldn’t find a Girl Scout troop for her to be in. She had been a Brownie I think four years. Fern was in a Girl Scout troop. Stacey wasn’t old enough to be a Girl Scout. So we went to this free night [laughs]. So Stacey . . . I wanted her to do something and it was a void . . . And I didn’t want her sittin’ in front of the TV.
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By making inquiries, she discovered a township program that Stacey really enjoyed and in which she quickly revealed herself to be talented. When the gymnastic instructor suggests that Stacey develop her talents, Ms. Marshall begins looking for a setting for more advanced training. Not content to rely only on the instructor’s recommendation, Stacey’s mother also taps into her own social network.
And just listening to some of the parents. I started putting my ear to the grapevine, and I heard a number of parents mention, “Well, if the kid really likes gymnastics, you send them to Wright’s.”
While in this instance Ms. Marshal was gathering information on a recreational program, in other instances she was looking to solve educational problems (as when Stacey did not qualify for her school’s gifted program). As with middle-class parents in the sample as a whole, Ms. Marshall’s “grapevine” is rich with friends and relatives who are educators, psychologists, lawyers, and even doctors (Table C8, Appendix C). As a result, middle-class parents are more likely to have informal access to valuable information and advice from professionals and experts than are working-class and poor parents.
Finding a good program, verifying Stacey’s interest, and then enrolling her does not bring Ms. Marshall’s responsibilities to an end, however. Unlike in working-class and poor families, where children are granted autonomy to make their own way in organizations, in the Marshall family, most aspects of the children’s lives are subject to their mother’s ongoing scrutiny.
When Ms. Marshall becomes aware of a problem, she moves quickly, drawing on her work and professional skills and experiences. She displays tremendous assertiveness, doggedness, and, in some cases effectiveness, in pressing institutions to recognize her daughters’ individualized needs. Stacey’s mother’s proactive stance reflects her belief that she has a duty to intervene in situations in which she perceives that her daughter’s needs are not being met. This perceived responsibility applies across all areas of her children’s lives. She is no more (or less) diligent with regard to Stacey and Fern’s leisure activities than she is with regard to their experiences in school or church or the doctor’s office. This is clear in the way she handles Stacey’s transition from her township gymnastics classes to the private classes at Wright’s.
Ms. Marshall describes Stacey’s first session at the club as rocky:
The girls were not warm. And these were little . . . eight- and nine-year-old kids. You know, they weren’t welcoming her the first night. It was kinda like eyeing each other, to see, you know, “Can you do this? Can you do that?”
More important, Ms. Marshall reports that the instructor is brusque, critical, and not friendly toward Stacey. Ms. Marshall cannot hear what is being said, but she can see the interactions through a window. A key problem is that because her previous instructor had not used the professional jargon for gymnastic moves, Stacey does not know these terms. When the class ends and she walks out, she is visibly upset. Her mother’s reaction is a common one among middle-class parents: she does not remind her daughter that in life one has to adjust, that she will need to work even harder, or that there is nothing to be done. Instead, Ms. Marshall focuses on Tina, the instructor, as the source of the problem.
We sat in the car for a minute and I said, “Look, Stace,” I said. She said, “I-I,” and she started crying. I said, “You wait here.” The instructor had come to the door, Tina. So I went to her and I said, “Look.” I said, “Is there a problem?” She said, “Aww . . . she’ll be fine. She just needs to work on certain things.” Blah-blah-blah. And I said, “She’s really upset. She said you-you-you [were] pretty much correcting just about everything.” And [Tina] said, “Well, she’s got—she’s gotta learn the terminology.”
Ms. Marshall acknowledges that Stacey isn’t familiar with specialized and technical gymnastics terms. Nonetheless, she continues to defend her daughter.
I do remember, I said to her, I said, “Look, maybe it’s not all the student.” You know, I just left it like that. That, you know, sometimes teaching, learning and teaching, is a two-way proposition as far as I’m concerned. And sometimes teachers have to learn how to, you know, meet the needs of the kid. Her style, her immediate style was not accommodating to—to Stacey.
Here Ms. Marshall is asserting the legitimacy of an individualized approach to instruction. She frames her opening remark as a question (“Is there a problem?”). Her purpose, however, is to alert the instructor to the negative impact she has had on Stacey (“She’s really upset.”). Although her criticism is indirect (“Maybe it’s not all the student . . .”), Ms. Marshall makes it clear that she expects her daughter to be treated differently in the future. In this case, Stacey does not hear what her mother says, but she knows that her wishes and feelings are being transmitted to the instructor in a way that she could not do herself.
Moreover, in what is a common procedure in the Marshall home, Stacey’s mother pursued the problem. The very next morning she called the gymnastics school and spoke with the owner. She asked (having first checked with Stacey) that her daughter be moved to the advanced beginner class. That class, however, was already full. In many organizations, Stacey would have had to stay in the intermediate class. In this case, the owner accommodated the mother and daughter, assigning a second instructor to the advanced beginner class so that Stacey could join that group. So, this series of institutional interactions results in important gains for Stacey Marshall: she gets access to a gymnastics class better suited to her skill and experience level; and she learns by observing her mother’s actions that it is reasonable to expect organizations to accommodate the specialized needs of an individual. As the next section shows, as Stacey’s classes in the new program progress, so too does her education in the art of interacting effectively with organizations.
TRANSMISSION OF SKILLS
Ms. Marshall is a conscious role model for Stacey, deliberately teaching her daughter strategies for managing organizational matters. Although it is hard to know how much Stacey absorbs her mother’s lessons in how to deal effectively with people in positions of power in organizations, or how much she might draw on those lessons in the future, exposure to such learning as a child has the potential to be a tremendous lifelong asset.4
It is important to remember, though, that just because strategies of concerted cultivation can produce such assets does not mean that this form of child rearing is “the best.” Every method of raising children is historically specific and subject to change. Concerted cultivation is neither “the only” way nor “the right” way to raise children. However, it is the way that contemporary powerful professionals such as child development specialists assert as the most appropriate and helpful approach to child rearing. In large part because of that endorsement, it is the method favored by the middle classes. Ms. Marshall continually “touches base” with Stacey’s instructor, not only learning Tina’s opinion but also providing the instructor with information about Stacey’s assessment of her experience in the class:
I had mentioned to Tina . . . I had asked her at the place, “How’s she doing?” She said, “Oh great, great.” I said, “Well, she’s a little concerned that she hasn’t gotten . . . she’s getting a little discouraged.” And she [Tina] said, “Oh, well, she shouldn’t be.” She said, “She’ll, she’ll get it.” But according to Stacey, um, Tina must have said to her after one class, um . . . you know, “You—you must be beginning to feel bad, because really, you’re the only one who hasn’t gotten it.” (Ironic laugh)
Similarly, in her conversations with Stacey, Ms. Marshall lets her daughter know what Tina has said and what kind of behavior and comments her instructor should and should not make. She deems “totally unprofessional” Tina’s remark about Stacey being “the only one who hasn’t gotten it.” She also makes it clear that an active response to that remark would be appropriate:
I said, and—and I said to Stacey, I said, “Look, do you want me to say anything? And so, you know I . . . M—my kids know that (sh
ort laugh), um, they know that I will call. They know that I will make an appearance. Um . . . but I—I was leaving that decision to her. And she said, “No. Don’t do it, because then in class she’ll say something to me [like], ‘And your Mom said’ such and such.”
The last straw came soon. Stacey, arriving home from the gym on a day when her father has picked her up, announces, “She [Tina] told me I’m lazy.” This leads Ms. Marshall and Stacey to decide that Stacey should decline the invitation she received to be part of the club’s elite gymnastics team. In so doing, Ms. Marshall teaches Stacey that she has the right to turn down such an invitation. Moreover, she explicitly coaches her daughter on how to manage this choice. Drawing on her own professional background, Ms. Marshall advises Stacey to prepare an answer in advance to explain to her instructor and classmates why she doesn’t intend to go out for the team.
Before Stacey went to the next class, I said, “What are you gonna to say to them, if they ask you why?” And she said, “I’m . . .” “ You know,” I said, “I think you better sit down and think about it.“’Cause,” I said, “they might ask you.” And sure enough, they did. Um . . . ’cause, and we talked about it. I said, I said, “It might be feasible for you to just say that you just decided that you weren’t ready for it.” You know. And leave it at that.
Unequal Childhoods Page 23
