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!”