The generally quite good culture miniconference today at the HBS (by the way, that is one heck of a facility) was marred by far too much hand-wringing about how cultural sociology is not taken seriously, not paid attention to, the “ugly stepsister” (someone else’s words, pregnant as they are with sexism) of sociology, and so on. This is not my experience, and seems at odds with the sheer size of the section (second only to sex and gender, and who can compete with sex?). Bob Wuthnow asked in 1997 whether cultural sociology is doomed. I offer an alternative hypothesis, only partially ironically: marginality is so much a part of cultural sociologists’ self-image that the hand-wringing is actually a form of self-congratulation. (This might make prestige an “inferior good”?) Comments?
1. I bought new shoes. They look a lot like the two right shoes I already brought to Boston.
2. I have the Scatterplot ribbons. They sparkle.
3. I’ve set aside my bitterness at being thwarted in my efforts to get people to mass twittercast ASA last year, and I am all set up to be twittering it now. Thanks to Contexts, you can follow the action here.
4. Scatterplot party at City Bar tonight at 7. Meanwhile, the time and location of The Soc Shrine High Tea remains shrouded in secrecy.
I haven’t looked at the ASA messaging service yet. But, in my inbox yesterday already:
You have received an Electronic Postcard.
Subject: ASA 2009: Thanks to ASA, I am You
So, yeah, change your password.
I’m looking forward to seeing you.
The postcard did have a nice photo of the USS Constitution and the Bunker Hill Monument.
It is important to place this discussion in the context of the whole conference, so it you are new to this series, please check out the previous post. For a quick recap, I’m writing about a two-day conference on racial disparities in incarceration and education at a university in a rural area I call Farmtown. The previous post focused the first half of the first day and the ways information was brought into the group. This post focuses on the second part of the first day, which ran from 3:15 – 9pm.
Two Farmtown professors do the short version of a workshop they’ve done often before for white faculty at their institution on the ideology of white supremacy. The black social science professor goes first, and it is relevant to note that he is older, in his sixties. His title is “isms and schisms.” The point is about how demographic differences become structures of inequality. He talks about how people respond to experiences of discrimination and then asks people what they see when the imagine pictures of powerful groups (i.e. Congress, Supreme Court). We are supposed to say “white male.” I hear one of the officers next to me say something like “mostly white males with some women and a few blacks and latinos” to Congress, and for the Supreme Court says “mostly white men and a woman and a black man.” At the end of this exercise, he requires the white man to answer his “what do you see?” question, and the answer is “mostly white men.” I’m glad I’m not put on the spot like that. I learn later that the speaker always forces a white person to answer this question. Continue reading “public sociology in farmtown (4): white supremacy”
As I was getting ready for the dinner for the miniconference I’m attending tonight, I took my dress shoes out of my suitcase and put them on. My left foot was uncomfortable. I looked down and saw that I had put my right shoe on my left foot. Except my right shoe was also on my right foot. It took me a few moments before I remembered that the reason that I bought the dress shoes that I did a few months ago is that they looked like this older pair that I liked. A trip to a shoe store in Boston will be made tomorrow, although it was my Converse All-Stars at the dinner tonight.
I just had a panic, thinking that I had forgotten to order the awards plaques for sexualities section awards. It turns out that I hadn’t forgotten that. I had forgotten that we agreed that a different section officer would do it, starting this year. Whew! Tonight, I’ll probably have that dream where I’ve forgotten my presentation, realizing that only after I’m introduced and everyone is looking at me. Thursday, I’ll probably really forget to pack that doohickey that Mac users need to fit into that ridiculously huge projector cable.
If you’re forgetful like me, you might find the oh, don’t forget site useful. For free (or I guess for the cost of one text message), you can send yourself a text message at a time in the future. Like I’m about to set one for tomorrow that says “put that Mac doohickey in your briefcase.”
(h/t Academic Lifehacker)