DISCUSSION
The verbal world of Harold McAllister and other poor and working-class children offers some important advantages as well as costs. Compared to middle-class children we observed, Harold is more respectful toward adults in his family. In this setting, there are clear boundaries between adults and children. Adults feel comfortable issuing directives to children, which children comply with immediately. Some of the directives that adults issue center on obligations of children to others in the family (“don’t beat on Guion” or “go do [her] hair for camp”).23 One consequence of this is that Harold, despite occasional tiffs, is much nicer to his sister (and his cousins) than the siblings we observed in middle-class homes. At family gatherings he voluntarily cares for his sixteen-month-old niece. Overall, children and parents spend less time talking; but, as in the choice of the towel for summer camp, the fewer words spoken (“girl colors”) do not impede the clear communication of one’s wishes. The use of directives and the pattern of silent compliance are not universal in Harold’s life. In his interactions with peers, for example, on the basketball “court,” Harold’s verbal displays are distinctively different from those inside the household, with elaborated and embellished discourse. Nevertheless, there is a striking difference in linguistic interaction between adults and children in poor and working-class families when compared to that observed in the home of Alexander Williams. Ms. McAllister has the benefit of being able to issue directives without having to justify their decisions at every moment. This can make child rearing somewhat less tiring.
Another advantage is that Harold has more autonomy than middle-class children in making important decisions in daily life. As a child, he controls his leisure schedule. His basketball games are impromptu and allow him to develop important skills and talents. He is resourceful. He appears less exhausted than ten-year-old Alexander. In addition, he has important social competencies, including his deftness in negotiating the “code of the street.”24 His mother has stressed these skills in her upbringing, as she impresses upon her children the importance of “not paying no mind” to others, including drunks and drug dealers who hang out in the neighborhoods that Harold and Alexis negotiate.
Still, in the world of schools, health-care facilities, and other institutional settings, these valuable skills do not translate into the same advantages as the reasoning skills emphasized in the home of Alexander Williams and other middle-class children. Compared to Alexander Williams, Harold does not gain the development of a large vocabulary, an increase of his knowledge of science and politics, a set of tools to customize situations outside the home to maximize his advantage, and instruction in how to defend his argument with evidence. His knowledge of words, which might appear, for example, on future SAT tests is not continually stressed at home. His effort to protect his cousin at school leads to the risk of suspension. His family has very close ties, but, unlike the Tallingers, they do not look each other in the eye when they speak. In future job interview situations, the closeness of Harold’s family may not translate into the same value as the family training of other children who sustain direct eye contact. In these areas, the lack of advantage is not connected to the intrinsic value of the McAllister family life or the use of directives at home. Indeed, one can argue that raising children who are polite and respectful and do not whine, needle, or badger their parents is a highly laudable child-rearing goal. Deep and abiding ties with kinship groups are also, one might further argue, important.25 Rather, it is the specific ways that institutions function that ends up conveying advantages to middle-class children. In their standards, these institutions also permit, and even demand, active parent involvement. In this way as well, middle-class children often gain an advantage, as we see with the experience of Stacey Marshall in the next chapter.
PART III
Families and Institutions
CHILDREN DO NOT LIVE THEIR LIVES out within the walls of the home. Instead, they move out into the world. They are required by law to go to school, and school is a powerful presence in their lives. Many children, as I have shown, have organized lives chock full with activities run by adults; other children have a slower-paced life wherein they hang out with cousins, watch television, and play outside. As children move out of the radar screen of the home environment, parents do not differ by social class in their love and concern for them. As the cases in this next section illustrate, working-class and poor mothers often anxiously watched their children’s situations, as when in first, second, third, and fourth grade, Wendy Driver was having trouble learning to read. Similarly, Ms. Marshall kept her attention on her daughters’ complaints about “Art” the bus driver.
Still, social class seemed to make a difference in how parents, primarily mothers, managed children’s complaints about institutions. Middle-class mothers were often very interventionist, assertively intervening in situations. Sometimes parents were successful, and sometimes they were not. But in the process, they directly taught their children how to “not take no for an answer” and to put pressure on persons in positions of power in institutions to accommodate their needs. By contrast, working-class and poor parents tended to expect educators and other professionals to take a leadership role. This deference was not, it turned out, a stance they took up with other key service providers in their lives. Ms. Driver, for example, considered herself “hot tempered” and would fume about the latest antic of their landlord, but in the school situation, she was much more passive. Since the school was designed around a system of concerted cultivation, and teachers expected the parents to take a leadership role in schooling, the deference of parents such as Ms. Driver was problematic in terms of fostering school success.
Still, cultural resources did not automatically lead to profits. Despite assiduous efforts by the white middle-class mother Ms. Handlon to help her daughter Melanie in school, the experience was often difficult at home and of questionable benefit at school. In addition, it is important to look beyond the issue of individual personalities and look more broadly at the relationship of social patterns and social structures. Schools, despite their claims to be friendly places, have a legal obligation to turn parents in if they suspect child abuse or neglect. In this role, they are arms of the state. Working-class and poor parents, as I have shown, were less likely to use verbal reasoning as a form of discipline. Instead, many were likely to use physical punishment. As I will show with the case of Little Billy Yanelli, the use of a belt at home was in clear conflict with the patterns adopted by the school. In addition, the parents’ belief in the importance of Little Billy defending himself on the playground also collided with school rules. As a result, the Yanelli parents felt alternately defiant, scared, and powerless. They encouraged their son to hit, when they felt it was necessary, and, when necessary, he would be hit with a belt at home. But through their lives, there was a lurking concern that they, and other working-class and poor families shared: “the school” would suddenly turn them in for child abuse and “come and take my kids away.” By being in synch with the standards of school officials, the cultural logic of child rearing of concerted cultivation provided important, and largely invisible, benefits to the middle-class parents and children that the working-class and poor parents and children did not gain.