Handbook of Feminist Family Studies 9781412960823

Citation preview

Handbook of

Feminist FAMILY Studies

We dedicate this book to our parents, Ed and Charlene Lloyd, Clarence J. Few, Jr. and Geralyn B. Few, and Jack and Betty Allen. We thank them for teaching us how to stand up for ourselves, even when we were young girls. We also dedicate this book to our partners, Andrew Wong, David Demo, and Jeff Burr, and thank them for their unwavering support.

Handbook of

Feminist FAMILY Studies Sally A. Lloyd Miami University, Ohio

April L. Few Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University

Katherine R. Allen

Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University

EDITORS

Copyright © 2009 by SAGE Publications, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. For information: SAGE Publications, Inc. 2455 Teller Road Thousand Oaks, California 91320 E-mail: [email protected]

SAGE Publications India Pvt. Ltd. B 1/I 1 Mohan Cooperative Industrial Area Mathura Road, New Delhi 110 044 India

SAGE Publications Ltd. 1 Oliver’s Yard 55 City Road London EC1Y 1SP United Kingdom

SAGE Publications Asia-Pacific Pte. Ltd. 33 Pekin Street #02-01 Far East Square Singapore 048763

Printed in the United States of America. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Handbook of feminist family studies/[edited by] Sally A. Lloyd, April L. Few, Katherine R. Allen. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-1-4129-6082-3 (cloth : acid-free paper) 1. Women—Social conditions. 2. Family—Social conditions. 3. Sex role. 4. Feminist theory. I. Lloyd, Sally A. II. Few, April L. III. Allen, Katherine R. HQ1111.H36 2009 306.8501—dc22

2008043102

This book is printed on acid-free paper. 09 10 11 12 13 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Acquisitions Editor: Editorial Assistant: Production Editor: Copy Editor: Typesetter: Proofreader: Indexer: Cover Designer: Marketing Manager:

Erik Evans Sarita Sarak Brittany Bauhaus QuADS Prepress (P) Ltd. C&M Digitals (P) Ltd. Jenifer Kooiman Wendy Allex Candice Harman Stephanie Adams

CONTENTS Preface

vii

Acknowledgments

xi

Part I. Feminist Theory and Family Studies 1. Reclaiming Feminist Theory, Method, and Praxis for Family Studies Katherine R. Allen, Sally A. Lloyd, and April L. Few

3

2. A Feminist Critique of Family Studies Alexis J. Walker

18

3. Theorizing With Racial-Ethnic Feminisms in Family Studies April L. Few

28

4. Queering “The Family” Ramona Faith Oswald, Katherine A. Kuvalanka, Libby Balter Blume, and Dana Berkowitz

43

5. Postmodern Feminist Perspectives and Families Kristine M. Baber

56

6. Transnational Intersectionality: A Critical Framework for Theorizing Motherhood Ramaswami Mahalingam, Sundari Balan, and Kristine M. Molina

69

Part II. Feminist (Re)Visioning of “The Family” 7. Gendered Bodies in Family Studies: A Feminist Examination of Constructionist and Biosocial Perspectives on Families Constance L. Shehan and Christine E. Kaestle 8. (Re)Visioning Intimate Relationships: Chicanas in Family Studies Ana A. Lucero-Liu and Donna Hendrickson Christensen 9. Lesbian Parents and Their Families: Complexity and Intersectionality From a Feminist Perspective Abbie E. Goldberg

83 96

108

10. Feminist Visions for Rethinking Work and Family Connections Maureen Perry-Jenkins and Amy Claxton

121

11. (Re)Visioning Family Ties to Communities and Contexts Lynet Uttal

134

12. (Re)Visioning Gender, Age, and Aging in Families Ingrid Arnet Connidis and Alexis J. Walker

147

13. Examining African American Female Adolescent Sexuality Within Mainstream Hip Hop Culture Using a Womanist-Ecological Model of Human Development Dionne P. Stephens, Layli D. Phillips, and April L. Few

160

Part III. Feminist Theory Into Methodology 14. Nondisabled Sisters Navigating Sociocultural Boundaries of Gender and Disability Lori A. McGraw and Alexis J. Walker

177

15. Working-Class Fatherhood and Masculinities in Contemporary Japan Masako Ishii-Kuntz

192

16. Resisting Whiteness: Autoethnography and the Dialectics of Ethnicity and Privilege Libby Balter Blume and Lee Ann De Reus

205

17. Doing Feminist Research on Gay Men in Cyberspace Brad van Eeden-Moorefield and Christine M. Proulx

220

18. Engendering Family Past: 19th-Century Pro-Family Discourse Through a Feminist Historical Lens Michele Adams

234

19. Feminist Methodology in Practice: Collecting Data on Domestic Violence in India Niveditha Menon

249

20. Discovering Women’s Agency in Response to Intimate Partner Violence Sally A. Lloyd, Beth C. Emery, and Suzanne Klatt

264

Part IV. Feminist Theory Into Action 21. Hybrid Identities Among Indian Immigrant Women: A Masala of Experiences Anisa Mary Zvonkovic and Anindita Das

281

22. Activism in the Academy: Constructing/Negotiating Feminist Leadership Sally A. Lloyd, Rebecca L. Warner, Kristine M. Baber, and Donna L. Sollie

292

23. Group- Versus Individual-Based Intersectionality and Praxis in Feminist and Womynist Research Foundations Edith A. Lewis

304

24. A Feminist-Ecological Analysis of Supportive Health Environments for Female Youth in Sub-Saharan Africa Elaine A. Anderson, John W. Townsend, and Nafissatou J. Diop

316

25. Thirty Years of Feminist Family Therapy: Moving Into the Mainstream Leigh A. Leslie and Ashley L. Southard 26. Steadying the Tectonic Plates: On Being Muslim, Feminist Academic, and Family Therapist Manijeh Daneshpour 27. Keeping the Feminist in Our Teaching: Daring to Make a Difference Katherine R. Allen

328

340 351

Epilogue

360

Author Index

364

Subject Index

381

About the Editors

393

About the Contributors

395

PREFACE

O

ver the past three decades, feminist theory, research, and praxis have had a significant impact on the field of family studies. Feminist family scholars have generated new theories, methodologies, and practices regarding how women, men, children, youth, and older adults relate in families and society. Feminists demanded that family studies become more attentive to contextualized and gendered understandings of families; as a result, we can no longer imagine a field of family studies that would limit itself to its once prevalent yet narrow view of “the family” as a White, middle-class, heterosexual, nuclear unit of husband, wife, and dependent children. This example is just one of many ways in which feminism has profoundly affected the field of family studies. At the same time that feminist ideas have been infused into the discipline of family studies, they have also been challenged and debated throughout the wider culture as feminist movements have come of age. Ironically, as feminist ideas are embraced, there is also a backlash against them. Feminist ideas either comingle or clash with other discourses and practices, particularly with the emergence of third-wave, transnational, and intersectional feminisms. Feminist ideas and practices occupy both old and new spaces in family studies—and they are increasingly subject to critique by feminists themselves. There is a great deal of interest in and need for feminist family scholars who span interdisciplinary fields to share the ways in which they integrate and critique their work across disciplines, practices, cultures, theories, and methods. This Handbook showcases feminist family scholarship and provides both a retrospective and a prospective overview of the field by

creating a scholarly forum for provocative feminist work. The outstanding contributions gathered here reveal feminism’s dynamic influence and continuing potential to challenge the field of family studies, through revisioning the family in all its internal and contextual relationships and enacting feminist principles in scholarship and practice. Simultaneously, these contributions push feminist scholarship to reincorporate “families” as a central location of both oppression and resistance, agency and restriction. They remind us often that families, as sites of contradiction and tension, are profound in their enactment of both love and trauma. For many of us, despite their complex, politicized structures, families are where our hearts and deepest hopes lie.

GOALS Our goals in creating this Handbook were to provide a resource for researchers and professionals on the major theoretical, methodological, and applied advances in feminism and family studies and to publish innovative contributions that fully integrate feminist theories, methods, and praxis across a range of topics in the family field. The chapters in this Handbook provide the most current theorizing and practice in feminist family studies. Across the chapters, there are common goals: • To elucidate the impact of feminism on the field of family studies as a whole, including the many ways that feminism has catalyzed a broadly inclusive understanding of family, bringing about a “re-visioning” of families that incorporates multiple voices and perspectives; vii

viii

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES • To center intersectionalities of race, class, gender, sexuality, age, nation, ability, and/or religion as pivotal frameworks for examining interlocking structures of inequality and privilege, both inside families and in the reciprocal relationship between families and institutions, communities, and ideologies; • To provide overviews of the most important theories, methodologies, and practices in feminist family studies, paired with concrete examples of how scholars and practitioners actually engage in the “doing” of feminist family studies; and • To critique the flaws and gaps within family studies and within feminism as well as the places where the infusion of feminism into family studies has simultaneously created a crisis over deeply held assumptions and been held back from reaching its full potential for creative, contextualized understandings.

OUR CONTRIBUTORS In creating this Handbook, we deliberately chose a diversity of feminist scholars, and we view this multiplicity as one of the many strengths of our collective work. Readers familiar with the field of feminist family studies will see both familiar and new names in the list of contributors. We sought authors who might be considered the “grandmothers” of the field, along with their academic daughters and sons. While the book includes compelling contributions by many veteran scholars, it also showcases the work of new scholars making exciting contributions to the field. Ultimately, we sought to include scholars who embody the intersectionality that is so carefully woven into this book—scholars whose lived experiences are both connected to and yet different from the family dynamics and processes that they study. We asked our contributors to incorporate their multiple identities into their work, as we believe that the power of feminism as theory, method, and praxis is its versatile ability to occupy multiple locations—center and margin—all at once. As passionate feminist inquirers in family science, we are not complacent theorists, researchers, or practitioners. Feminism requires us to contemplate how the interactions of identities flow in and out and spill over categories. Throughout these chapters, we invited our contributors to share their reflections and selves as they wrote.

THE STRUCTURE OF THE HANDBOOK This Handbook is organized into four major parts. The book begins with an overview of feminist theory and family studies. This first part begins with our introductory chapter tracing the changes in the field that were catalyzed by generative works such as Baber and Allen (1992), Hull, Bell-Scott, and Smith (1982), Sollie and Leslie (1994), Thompson (1992), Thompson and Walker (1995), and Thorne (1982), among others. Here we examine the history of the influence of feminist theory, methods, and praxis on the field of family studies over the past three decades, emphasizing the emergence of concepts such as power, agency, reflexivity, intersectionality, and transnationalism. The introductory chapter continues with an analysis of three critical tasks for a “new feminist family studies”: conceptualizing intersectionality for family studies, reclaiming feminist praxis, and enacting the promise of interdisciplinarity. Part I continues with a feminist critique of family studies research, followed by overviews of key arenas of feminist family theory (including racial-ethnic feminisms, queer theory, postmodern perspectives, and transnational intersectionality). These chapters share common features, including an emphasis on the basic tenets and assumptions of each type of feminist theory; an explanation of core concepts such as subjectivity, reflexivity, and intersectionality; the influence of these feminist theories on the discipline of family studies, definitions of family, and core family theories; and contributions of feminist family studies to interdisciplinary knowledge. The chapters in Part I come together as a compilation of the profound impact and potential of feminist theorizing to “remake” the field of family studies. Together they reveal the rich textures of feminist theorizing. Part II is titled “Feminist (Re)Visioning of ‘The Family.’” The chapters in this part elucidate how feminist theory and research have fundamentally challenged and enhanced our understanding of “the family” in key areas (reproduction, intimate relationships, parenting, adolescence, family and work, communities, and aging). What makes these analyses unique is the emphasis on critical intersections (e.g., of race, class, culture, sexual orientation) with family developmental frameworks, as the authors of these chapters share how feminist scholars have wrestled with defining and

Preface

studying intersectionality in familial contexts. They also push us toward a renewed emphasis on the ways in which subjectivities and locations multiplicatively influence behavior and life trajectories and how family members subvert notions of the “traditional family” into spaces of creative adaptation. This part illuminates how each substantive area is understood from a feminist perspective and how feminism has catalyzed new theoretical and methodological developments. Part III, “Feminist Theory Into Methodology,” provides concrete examples of the enactment of feminist research methodologies (including narrative interviews, autoethnography, Internet methods, historical methods, theoretical reanalysis). These chapters share common features, the most important of which is their emphasis on “doing” feminist family studies research. Here, scholars demonstrate how they have translated feminist theory into methodology, explain links of feminist epistemology with theory and method, discuss the basic tenets of their “feminist methodologies,” and elucidate the strengths and challenges of conducting feminist research within the field of family studies. Each chapter in this part contains an example of a specific research project that used both feminist theory and feminist methods as well as a discussion of the researcher’s positionality and subjectivity and its interface with feminist methodology. Part IV is titled “Feminist Theory Into Action.” Here, authors explore their everyday lived experience of enacting their feminist visions. One of the consistently driving forces of feminism in family studies is its association with passionate inquiry and action. Feminism is all about vision—having a vision for the individuals and families we study and the groups to which we belong, a vision that is centered on a desire for and advocacy of justice and social change. The chapters in this part are centered on the

ix

subjectivity of the scholar, for they elucidate the ways these authors translate theory into action through their advocacy, policy, and leadership work. The chapters share common features of border spanning (both figurative and geographic), praxis (translating theory into action), what it means to be a feminist professional, and the dialectical tensions inherent in the translation of feminist theory into policy and activism. Bringing this Handbook to fruition has been a profoundly collaborative and inspirational experience for us all. We stand on the shoulders of those early, pivotal feminists in our field who opened so many doors for us, and we stand in awe of the new feminist scholars who are challenging so many “sacred” aspects of the field of family studies, which is still quite conservative in its viewpoints. In these chapters, we collectively seek to bring our whole selves to the academic enterprise of feminist family studies. We hope that this book will be a source of both celebration and controversy, allowing those in the field of feminist family studies to understand just how far we have come, to spark new disagreements that spur creative conflict, and to be inspired to push the field in directions that cannot yet be imagined.

REFERENCES Baber, K. M., & Allen, K. R. (1992). Women & families: Feminist reconstructions. New York: Guilford Press. Hull, G. T., Bell-Scott, P., & Smith, B. (Eds.). (1982). All the women are White, all the Blacks are men, but some of us are brave: Black women’s studies. Old Westbury, NY: Feminist Press. Sollie, D. L., & Leslie, L. A. (Eds.). (1994). Gender, families and close relationships: Feminist research journeys. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Thompson, L. (1992). Feminist methodology for family studies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 54, 3–18. Thompson, L., & Walker, A. J. (1995). The place of feminism in family studies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 57, 847–865. Thorne, B. (with Yalom, M.). (Ed.). (1982). Rethinking the family: Some feminist questions. New York: Longman.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

T

he processes of conceptualizing, inviting, writing, editing, and completing this Handbook have been imbued with creativity, commitment, and caring. Through these processes, we felt deeply what it means to collaborate as feminist scholar-practitioners around epistemologies, methodologies, and praxes. As editors, we joined an amazing group of 40 authors to share with our readers the enactment of an array of feminist perspectives. Our first and most important acknowledgements go to each of the scholars who contributed to this volume. We thank you for sharing your expertise, for telling your stories, for incorporating our editorial input, and for providing such provocative insights. Each contribution to this volume portrays the profound impact of feminism within family studies as well as its potential to re-vision and remake the field. Thank you for the excellent chapters that comprise this Handbook. We express our gratitude to our feminist mentors, colleagues, students, and organizations. The Feminism and Family Studies section of the National Council on Family Relations (NCFR) is the inspiration for and energy behind much of the scholarship generated in the Handbook. For more than two decades, this group continues to provide an organizational structure in which feminist family scholars translate theory and research into action, changing scholarship on families and the discipline of family studies. We thank our own feminist teachers and students, as well, for all that you have taught us and asked of us. Sharing this burning desire for feminist knowledge, you have made the Handbook possible.

We thank our respective universities for their support. Sally was granted a research leave from Miami University to support her work on this project, and she enjoyed the camaraderie of terrific students and colleagues throughout the process. April and Katherine appreciate their colleagues and students at Virginia Tech for providing the kind of learning environment that inspires, requires, and sustains feminist thinking and teaching. Our sincere thanks go to the editorial staff at SAGE Publications. This book began as a conversation at NCFR with Jim Brace-Thompson, who first encouraged us to think about its creation. It continued with the wonderful support of Cheri Dellilo, who mentored us through prospectus development and advocated for our proposal at SAGE. Sarita Sarak, editorial assistant, and Brittany Bauhaus, production editor, provided terrific support at SAGE (sorry for all those e-mail questions!), and Erik Evans provided key assistance during the production phase. We thank you all for helping this Handbook come alive. We are deeply grateful to our families, partners, and closest friends, those with whom we share our daily lives. Their support throughout the process was unbelievably patient and understanding. Our desire to study families and to work for justice and social change on behalf of all families is central to our entry into feminist family studies. Our own families continue to offer us opportunities to reflect deeply on our motivations for the family scholarship in which we engage and the theoretical, empirical, and practical outcomes we provide. Families are what sustain us and families are what challenge us. We thank our own families for helping us keep it real. xi

xii

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

Finally, we thank each other. What an amazing, synergistic, supportive experience this collaboration has been. We acknowledge our deep respect for each other and, once again, marvel at the way that feminist work changes our lives and our perspectives, profoundly. SAGE Publications and the editors gratefully acknowledge the contributions of the following reviewers:

Renoir Gaither, University of Michigan Brenda Yates Habich, Ball State University N. Sue Hanson, Case Western Reserve University Doris Small Helfer, California State University Northridge Leta Hendricks, Ohio State University Kathy Herrlich, Northeastern University Clement Ho, American University Library

Deborah Abston, Arizona State University at the Downtown Phoenix Campus

Mary Lee Jensen, Kent State University

Jeanne Armstrong, Western Washington University

Connie Lamb, Brigham Young University

Mary Cassner, University of Nebraska–Lincoln

Kathy McGowan, University of Rochester

Laurie Cohen, University of Pittsburgh

Sally Moffitt, University of Cincinnati

Kathryn Crowe, University of North Carolina, Greensboro

Carol A. Rudisell, University of Delaware Library

Yelena Luckert, University of Maryland

Carrie Donovan, Indiana University–Bloomington

Nancy B. Ryckman, University of North Carolina, Greensboro

Nancy Down, Bowling Green State University

Vanette Schwartz, Illinois State University

Janice Dysart, University of Missouri–Columbia

Gary Treadway, University of Virginia Library

Joseph Floyd, University of South Florida Library: Tampa Campus

Nancy Turner-Myers, University of Missouri–Columbia

PA R T I FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY S TUDIES

1 RECLAIMING FEMINIST THEORY, METHOD, AND PRAXIS FOR FAMILY STUDIES K ATHERINE R. A LLEN S ALLY A. L LOYD A PRIL L. F EW

F

eminist ideas and practices challenge family scholars and practitioners to break with the status quo of conceptualizing families apart from history, context, power, and inclusivity. Indeed, feminism has revolutionized the way gender in families is conceptualized, evolving from concepts of sex roles to gender roles to gender perspectives to intersectionality. The intention of this chapter is to invigorate the discussion of how the intersection of feminism and family studies can build on this revolution to spark more theorizing, research, and praxis for the mutual advancement of both disciplines. Our challenge is to investigate families as contested sites of power without losing touch with their revolutionary potential as sources of resistance, empowerment, and change.

In this chapter, we examine the intersection of feminism and family studies as a radical opportunity to challenge and shape interdisciplinary family scholarship. We recall a time when feminist studies and family studies were bodies of knowledge with little to say to each other. We trace key developments in our history as follows: (a) the critique of the ideology of the private nuclear family versus the separate public arena, (b) the development of a gender perspective in family studies, and (c) the emergence of research from intersectional perspectives, where systems of power and privilege are viewed as interlocking, overlapping, and mutually constructing one another. In the present moment, we note the ongoing transition from feminism and family studies to feminist family studies,

Authors’ Note: The authors sincerely acknowledge the careful reading and insightful critiques of this chapter by Kristine Baber, Alexis Walker, and especially Lynet Uttal.

3

4

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

where we cannot imagine a family studies not shaped by feminist contributions to our discipline. Embracing the tensions of this vibrant interdisciplinary adventure, particularly the necessity (and often, it seems, the impossibility) of integrating intersectionality into theory, research, and praxis, we propose that bold steps are required to resist the retreat away from the revolutionary nature of feminism and to collectively envision new directions for feminist family studies.

DEFINING FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES Feminist family scholars theorize and demonstrate through their research and praxis the ways in which families entail a complex, politicized matrix of meaning and structure. At its very core, feminist family studies theorizes gender as a key axis on which power is distributed, deployed, and misused in families; home is where caring and conflict comingle (Ferree, 1990; Thompson & Walker, 1989). Yet family members can simultaneously perceive and experience their family connections as valued sources of meaning and reality, regardless of gender, biological or legal connection, racial and class dimensions, age, and generation (see diverse family examples in Demo, Allen, & Fine, 2000). An important conceptual tool of a feminist analysis of families is deconstructing a binary notion of agency and structure by recognizing that both human interactions and social structures are characterized by tensions and ambivalence. For example, women are held responsible for the invisible labor of performing instrumental caregiving tasks at home, with little recognition, but they are expected to do so in expressive ways (Dressel & Clark, 1990). Feminist family scholars recognize, however, that gender alone is not sufficient to understand the pervasiveness and interlocking reinforcement of structural inequities. Analyses of social structures—the institutionalized ways in which ideologies and socially constructed meanings are enacted and reproduced within social, political, legal, educational, and other structural systems—must go beyond gender to multiple and layered identities and systems of power and privilege, including race, class, sexuality, age, nationality, and ability status (Andersen, 2005; Baca Zinn & Dill, 1996; Dill, McLaughlin, &

Nieves, 2007; Osmond & Thorne, 1993; Risman, 2004). Multiracial feminist scholars, in particular, have led the way in helping feminist family scholars “leave home” and broaden analyses to outside family boundaries. These structural relations, or systemic hierarchies, are typically unjust; they disadvantage some groups of people and privilege others (Collins, 1990). For example, gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender families who live outside legal and biological marital and parental ties, yet create families of their own, experience intersections of sexual orientation with gender, race, class, and family status, thereby resisting idealized family rhetoric (Weston, 1991). Such families challenge normative structures by their very existence (Bernstein & Reimann, 2001; Naples, 2001; Oswald, Blume, & Marks, 2005). Similarly, African American families who reclaim multiple dimensions of blood, family, and kinship to reconstruct home as a place, space, and territory (Collins, 2000) challenge normative ideologies about family structures. hooks (1984) describes homeplace as a site for resistance, a virtual and physical space where oppressed people can discuss the roots and consequences of their marginality (e.g., racism, sexism) and strategies that fully use personal, family, and community strengths. In the homeplace, individuals resist racist and sexist discourses by “rewriting” their own histories from both individual and collective points of view. These examples show how feminist family scholars deconstruct family as a privileged site for understanding intersectional inequities, and reclaim family as a source of resistance and change (Collins, 2000). Feminist family scholars recognize the feminist potential to “profoundly reorganize basic modes of understanding families and households and their interconnections with society” (Osmond & Thorne, 1993, p. 618). As most clearly illustrated in the work of racialethnic feminisms, theory and social action (praxis) are inextricably linked. Praxis refers to the resistance expressed by oppressed people and groups to limiting ideologies and inequitable institutions (Collins, 1990; Dill et al., 2007) as well as the opportunities for change that are spurred by collective analysis of common circumstances (Alexander & Mohanty, 1997). Pioneering women’s groups such as the Combahee River Collective (2000), organized in the 1970s, were among the first to define a Black feminist consciousness as one in which Black women

1. Reclaiming Feminist Theory, Method, and Praxis for Family Studies

struggled together with Black men against racism but also struggled with Black men about sexism. The Collective thus revealed the intersectionality of racism and sexism in their theoretical analysis and praxis. Ensuring that research findings are also used for the goal of proactive social change is an integral commitment of feminist family praxis (Allen, 2001; Fox & Murry, 2000; L. Thompson, 1992; Walker & Thompson, 1984). Lest we become complacent about our praxis, however, vigilance is needed to follow through with more action orientations in feminist family studies today. In addition, the emerging paradigm of intersectionality (Collins, 1990), while influential within feminism, has not been incorporated into the broader field of family studies, let alone reshaped it. We concur with intersectional feminist scholars that the versatility of intersectionality for scholarship and social justice work has a bright future for exposing the “roots of power and inequality” while pursuing “an activist agenda” (Dill et al., 2007, p. 636). Feminist studies, as well, has much to gain from “reclaiming notions of family that reject hierarchical thinking” (Collins, 2000, p. 171).

FAMILY STUDIES AND THE EMERGENCE OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES Activist Histories Both feminism and family studies have early roots in the quest to examine and address social problems for women and families, respectively (Allen, 2000; Baber & Allen, 1992; Doherty, Boss, LaRossa, Schumm, & Steinmetz, 1993). Liberal feminism grew from grassroots concerns for White women’s rights and equality and women’s concerns about the well-being of their families. Feminists were active in addressing discrimination and securing access to legal, educational, occupational, reproductive, sexual, and familial rights; protection; and self-determination (Freedman, 2002). The importance of developing theory while maintaining rich descriptions of social movements and feminist activism remains an essential challenge for feminist research today (Maddison, 2007). Multiracial feminist scholarship, synonymous with the activist efforts of racial-ethnic women on behalf of their families and communities, continues to push White

5

feminism beyond examination of individual women’s empowerment and toward family survival in the larger White world (Baca Zinn & Dill, 1996; De Reus, Few, & Blume, 2005; Uttal, this volume). Family studies began during the Progressive Era in the United States at the end of the 19th century, at the time when industrialization and urbanization were creating numerous social problems affecting families. In particular, a concern with family-life-course patterns associated with poverty and European immigration (Thomas & Znaniecki, 1918–1920) was characteristic of these studies. Many investigations were initiated by individuals who themselves had experienced the disruptions and social exclusions they studied (DilworthAnderson, Burton, & Johnson, 1993). For example, W. E. B. Du Bois (1903/1996), in writing about the alienation of Black people in White America, proposed the concept of double consciousness to explain how a person of color—a person with less privilege in a racist world—is always looking at himself or herself through another’s eyes. Despite their origins in social activism and concern for women and families, the field of feminism and that of family studies have taken different directions, as if they are operating in opposing universes (Osmond & Thorne, 1993). Family studies remained fairly mainstream (i.e., White, heteronormative) despite serious challenges from racial-ethnic groups about cultural deficit perspectives prevalent in the literature (Allen, 1978; Peters, 1974). At the same time, an earlier examination of family in feminist studies (Thorne, 1982) was eclipsed by newer feminist work in the areas of paid labor, sexuality, media, and the body, among others. For example, the comprehensive Handbook of Feminist Research (Hesse-Biber, 2007a) contains only one entry related to family (“family violence and the women’s movement”) in the index. It is taking deliberate effort by scholars at the intersection of feminism and family studies to demonstrate how critical families are for feminist analysis and how critical feminism is for family analysis. As interactional and institutional locations, families are key structures in which oppression and privilege are systematically experienced and reproduced; likewise, families are a key location for developing empowering

6

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

relationships and resisting oppressive conditions (Baber & Allen, 1992; Collins, 2000). The Discipline of Family Studies To understand the importance of merging feminism and family studies, it is valuable to provide a brief history of family studies as a distinct interdisciplinary field. As a field of inquiry, family studies is committed to enhancing the development and well-being of individuals and families over the life course through the integration of theory, research, and practice. The focus is on investigating dynamic relations within families and the family’s interactions with communities and other social institutions as well as understanding individual and systemic change from infancy to old age. Contemporary family studies emerged from multiple origins (e.g., home economics, family sociology, marriage counseling, developmental psychology, cultural anthropology, and racial-ethnic studies) with distinct gender trajectories evident as a result of the socialhistorical circumstances of the 20th century. Early family studies scholars, many of whom were home economists, were concerned with the influence of environmental factors on human and family well-being. The field of home economics, as one of the only professions open to women, “was built on the experiences, consciousness, and concerns of women in their major role of the historical period, which was home and family” (Bubolz & Sontag, 1993, p. 421). P. J. Thompson (1992) places the development of domestic science alongside women’s suffrage as a major social movement of the early 1900s. Attentive to running homes efficiently and to the physical and emotional development of children, many home economists engaged in various forms of advocacy, education, and research. Interest in the family field was growing, evidenced by its establishment in the social and behavioral sciences (e.g., sociology, psychology, anthropology, and economics) during the 1920s and 1930s, a time of great social change and the emergence of new norms about family privacy and conformity to cultural mandates (Doherty et al., 1993). While home economists were primarily White, middle-class women, the founding fathers of mainstream family sociology were primarily White, middle-class men, and the science of family studies reflected the perspective generated by privileged men with stay-at-home

wives. As male scholars entered the once predominantly female domain of family studies within colleges of home economics, demands increased for the field to conform to patriarchal disciplines and methods (P. J. Thompson, 1992). By the 1970s, the nature of family scholarship was beginning to change, with an increase in racial-ethnic and feminist scholars gaining prominence in the field and critically shifting the focus from deficit to variant and equivalent perspectives (see Allen, 1978; Bozett, 1980; McAdoo, 1978; Osmond, 1987; Peters, 1974; Rubin, 1976; Walker & Thompson, 1984). These family researchers, among others, challenged traditional paradigms, recognizing the diversity of family constellations and the impact of gender, generation, race, ethnicity, and sexual orientation, among other social locations, on individual and family relationships and well-being in society. They introduced an important paradigm shift that both catalyzed and continues to foster the development of feminist theory, methods, and praxis within family studies. The Emergence of Feminist Family Studies Early contributions to feminist family studies came mostly from family sociologists. SafiliosRothschild (1969) critiqued the theoretical and methodological flaws in explanations of family power structures, including the practice of interviewing only one spouse (the wife) about marital decision making, or failing to consider which spouse has more relative power. For example, a couple might say that the wife decides where (in what house and neighborhood) they will live, but, in reality, it is the husband who will determine how much money can be spent on the house, thus narrowing the options available to the wife. Safilios-Rothschild’s work challenged family researchers to develop more sophisticated methods for dealing with spouses’ different realities and different degrees of power. Bernard (1972) described the separate experiences and realms of wives and husbands in marriage, where marriage offers more rewards to men than women. Lopata (1971) investigated one of the most invisible and oppressed occupations of all: housewife. Peters (Peters & Massey, 1983) brought the idea of bicultural socialization of Black children to the field, where parents must raise their children to develop a self-affirming self-concept within the context of a racist society,

1. Reclaiming Feminist Theory, Method, and Praxis for Family Studies

learning to both confront and overcome racism. Bicultural socialization of Black children in White America foreshadowed feminist ideas about intersectionality. These contributions by pioneering scholars, who were not identified as feminist, shaped—if they did not create—a feminist theoretical and methodological approach in family studies. Collectively, their strategies included the following: (a) exposing the patriarchal bias in presumptions about men, women, and children in diverse families; (b) asking previously unasked (and unaskable) questions about invisible family processes and structures; (c) adding participant-centric research methods that invited participants’ voices to be heard; and (d) contributing new knowledge about the lived experience of individual and family lives that mattered to both participants and researchers (and continues to matter today). Nearly three decades ago, a groundbreaking collection of papers, Rethinking the Family, compiled by Thorne (1982), appeared, challenging prevailing assumptions about families and bringing interdisciplinary feminist voices to the attention of family studies scholars. Highly critical of functionalist accounts of positivist family structures and interactions, these alternative perspectives documented women’s diverse experiences and systematic oppression in families. At the center of the analysis, Thorne critiqued the ideology of “The Family” as a naturalized structure and demonstrated ways in which the institutionalized character of family was harmful to women. Since then, feminist investigations that critique family life and, in particular, overly positive portrayals of White, middle-class, nuclear families through the use of a gender perspective have become the norm (Ferree, 1990; Fox & Murry, 2000). The papers in Rethinking the Family were stunning because, unlike much of family studies scholarship, the authors’ accounts were often reflective of the researchers’ own experience. The introduction to interdisciplinary feminist scholarship on and about families, with the inclusion of narrative and reflexive methods, offered new insights and examples in how to conceptualize and produce our own work. Philosopher Sara Ruddick’s (1982) treatise about maternal love as a politicized practice full of contradictory desires and demands opened a new window on parenting in the family field. Sociologist William Goode’s (1982) observation

7

that men get away with resisting change “because they can” was an eye-opening statement about patriarchal privilege. To read the bold and intriguing way these questions about women and families were being framed; to experience the insertion of the researcher’s reflections and lived experience into the text; to observe the explicit making of feminist theorizing as reflexive and action oriented; to witness assumptions and literature once taken as sacred unravel through rigorous critique was to experience the liberating confluence of lived experience with theory and research. Other influential texts charting the emergence of feminist family studies in the late 20th century included key reviews in the Journal of Marriage and Family (cited chronologically, Scanzoni & Fox, 1980; Thompson & Walker, 1989; Ferree, 1990; L. Thompson, 1992; Thompson & Walker, 1995; Fox & Murry, 2000). In addition to assessing the impact of feminist scholarship in family studies, these reviews revealed the evolution of the concept of sex roles to gender roles to gender perspective to intersectionality. Chapters published in key reference books (cited chronologically, Osmond & Thorne, 1993; Walker, 1999; De Reus et al., 2005; Olson, Fine, & Lloyd, 2005; Oswald et al., 2005) and major texts (cited chronologically, Thorne, 1982; Baber & Allen, 1992; Sollie & Leslie, 1994) offered family studies to feminist audiences, and major texts outside the discipline revealed ways in which feminism had the potential to shape family scholarship (Hull, Bell-Scott, & Smith, 1982). Feminists were also organizing within the discipline of family studies. The Feminism and Family Studies section of the National Council on Family Relations was initiated in 1985 with the explicit goal of providing an institutional structure for feminist theorizing, research, and practice. As an early text, Hull et al. (1982) stands alone as an interdisciplinary contribution featuring the work of women of color in all walks of life, especially families. This text gave voice to the exclusion of Black women’s experiences from White feminism and racial-ethnic studies and thus began to shape intersectionality by showing how race, gender, social class, sexuality, and age, among other social locations, were mutually interlocking. A related collection of mostly narrative accounts by Black women about mother-daughter relationships used the metaphor of creating a quilt to critically examine

8

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

the intersections of family, race, class, gender, and age (Bell-Scott, Guy-Sheftall, Royster, Sims-Wood, et al., 1991). This work was one of the early examples of bringing the theoretical perspective of intersectionality into feminist family studies today. Conceptualizing Gender in Family Studies The result of the challenge to mainstream family studies by racial-ethnic feminists was the emergence of more critical perspectives on gender and sexuality that evolved out of secondwave feminism (De Reus et al., 2005). Originating from a difference perspective in terms of distinct sex roles, as described in the decade review article about sex roles of the 1970s (Scanzoni & Fox, 1980), early writings acknowledged the devaluation of women’s contributions as members of families as well as in the discipline of family studies. The notion of sex roles challenged the perspective that men’s and women’s experiences in families are similar and equal. From this idea arose the notion of women’s extra burden and explanations for women’s lesser satisfaction in family life. Feminists demonstrated that the caregiving performed by women as a result of their family ties (e.g., as mothers, daughters, wives, sisters, aunts, and fictive kin) is not “natural” but socially constructed (Tronto, 1987). These revolutionary ideas challenged the very core of theory, research, and practice in the discipline of family studies. The concept of sex roles was soon challenged by feminists as too reflective of biological determinism and unable to handle the contradiction and struggle evident in how gender is experienced and institutionalized (Lopata & Thorne, 1978). Feminists argued that, rather than an instrumental or expressive role that one enacts based on being born as male or female, gender should be conceptualized as a set of relations, existing in social institutions and reproduced in interpersonal interactions (Smith, 1987; West & Zimmerman, 1987). Gender is not a property of individuals but an ongoing interaction between actors and structures with tremendous variation across men’s and women’s lives “individually over the life course and structurally in the historical context of race and class” (Ferree, 1990, p. 868). Emerging as an alternative to sex role theory, gender theory is a social constructionist perspective that simultaneously examines the ideological

and the material levels of analysis (Smith, 1987). At the ideological level, “gender is performatively produced” (Butler, 1990, p. 24). Gender is not a noun—a “being”—but a “doing.” Gender is created and reinforced discursively, through talk and behavior, where individuals claim a gender identity and reveal it to others (West & Zimmerman, 1987). At the material level, processes of stratification and social control provide differential opportunity structures to men and women based on hierarchies of social class, race, sexual orientation, age, and the like. For example, Mexican American employed mothers’ experiences have commonalities with African American and Anglo-American employed mothers, but variations in the socioeconomic networks of their extended families render noted differences when making child care arrangements (Uttal, 1999), revealing the dialectic between agency and structure. Intersectionality and Transnational Feminisms: The Next Frontier for Feminist Family Studies Feminists of color introduced the concept of intersectionality by challenging gender as a monolithic category (Collins, 1990; Crenshaw, 1991; Davis, 1981; hooks, 1984; Lorde, 1984; Moraga, 1983). Instead of viewing gender, race, class, sexuality, and nation as separate systems of oppression and privilege, the vastly important intersectionality paradigm sees these systems as interlocking, overlapping, and mutually constructing one another (Andersen, 2005; Collins, 2000; Dill et al., 2007; McCall, 2005). That is, gender, race, and class, among other systems, operate as a matrix of domination that exploits the labor and restricts the citizenship rights of people, depending on where they are situated, according to major social structures (Collins, 1990). Twenty-first–century feminists are increasingly attentive to the impact of globalization, including growing rates of joblessness, homelessness, and inequality, particularly for women, children, and all people of color (Andersen, 2005; Mohanty, 2003; Naples, 2002). Yet one of the major gaps in contemporary feminist theorizing is the ability to conceptualize beyond the boundaries of a Eurocentric (i.e., Western) feminist perspective. Alexander and Mohanty (1997) argue that the time has come for a transhistorical, international feminism that does not

1. Reclaiming Feminist Theory, Method, and Praxis for Family Studies

require Third World feminism (where the focus is often fixed in one geographical region) to fill in the gaps for Eurocentric feminism. Instead, they argue that what is needed is a transnational, comparative, relational feminist praxis that engages with and responds to global processes of colonization. Being transnational means attending to women’s issues that have been created from the consequences of imperialism, colonialism, and capitalism on modern nation-states. A relational feminist praxis that is transnational refers to the goal of developing opportunities for global feminist solidarity to resist racism, sexism, classism, homophobia, and ethnocentrism. Bhavnani (2007), for example, describes a new paradigm, Women, Culture, Development (WCD), that she and collaborators have been working on as planned social transformation. Noting that the policy goal of ameliorating poverty in Third World countries has failed— “at the time of writing, 2.8 billion people were living on less than $2 per day” (Bhavnani, 2007, p. 642)—the WCD calls for new development theory, research, and policy. Among its goals, the WCD offers opportunities for women and men to develop their creativity, interrogate their lived experience, and simultaneously incorporate their productive and familial contributions into research and policy that will extend beyond the day-to-day practices of their own lives. Turning now to feminist family scholars, although we have moved feminist ideas regarding gender relations and praxis into the mainstream of family studies, we are only beginning to address feminist approaches to intersectionality and transnationalism (De Reus et al., 2005). In 1995, Thompson and Walker asked, “What is the place of feminism in family studies?” They concluded that feminist perspectives had taken hold but were mainly limited to research on the gendered nature of housework and the praxis of feminist pedagogy. A decade later, Wills and Risman (2006) asked how feminist thought had changed the terms in which we now study families. In their examination of the amount of feminist scholarship published in the family field from 1972 to 2002, they found that there was almost no feminist scholarship in 1972 but that it had substantially grown until 1992, when it began to level off. Wills and Risman also found that from 1992 to 2002, about 25% of published articles had at least minimal feminist and/or gender content. They concluded that

9

the interpretation of this state of feminist visibility in family studies depends on your academic generation. Older feminists may perceive the glass as quarter full, reflecting back to a time at the beginning of their careers when there were no feminist publications or role models. Yet newer generations of feminists may see the same glass as three-fourths empty, wondering why feminist scholarship has yet to transform family studies to the extent that it has made inroads into other disciplines. This stalled gender revolution in our scholarship poses new challenges for feminist family scholars, particularly as we address the need for feminist intersectional and transnational perspectives in family studies. At the same time that feminist family scholars must acknowledge the importance of globalization and transnationalism, we must not “overlook the structural inequalities within the United States, and the identities and social dilemmas that continue to exist here” (Dill et al., 2007, p. 631). Furthermore, efforts to incorporate an intersectionality perspective are often limited by criticisms about how it has not been or cannot be done (Chafetz, 2004). The lived experiences of families are increasingly complex, including binational living, persistent disadvantage, and geographic displacement due to unstable employment, migration, and immigration (Crowley, Lichter, & Qian, 2006) as well as complex family boundaries due to multiple parenting arrangements and union formation/dissolution (see Schmeeckle, Giarrusso, Feng, & Bengtson, 2006). We must have models for mapping, measuring, and understanding family experiences that reflect such structural complexity and keep pace with the ways that families actually live.

TOWARD A NEW FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES Trying to study family relationships and structures by complicating the analysis with feminist perspectives on power, structure, agency, and intersectionality is a daunting task, filled with false starts, trade-offs, and exciting breakthroughs. We offer no easy answers. We agree with Elam and Wiegman (1995) that feminism cannot be characterized by a sense of unity, identity, or comprehensiveness. Instead, “feminism’s unknowability is its very strength” (p. 7). For many of the same reasons,

10

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

family life is also elusive (Marshall, Matthews, & Rosenthal, 1993). Gubrium and Holstein (1990) ask, “What is family?” and argue that family is as much a discourse as it is a concrete set of social ties and actions. We do not search for closure on these issues but embrace the opportunity to explore and implement their many possibilities. Next, we present three ways that feminist family scholars can take bold new steps in revisioning our field by building on new developments in feminist research and reinvigorating what we can do so well: intersectionality, praxis, and interdisciplinarity. Conceptualizing Intersectionality for Family Studies The intersectionality paradigm, grounded in feminist theory and practice, is perhaps the most important recent intellectual contribution made by feminist scholars (McCall, 2005). As previously noted, intersectionality grew out of the lived experiences of women of color, asserting that people experience oppression and privilege simultaneously (Collins, 1990). That is, the lives of women of color cannot be understood only from a singular lens (either gender or race or class). Black women, for example, face unique challenges from the multiple and simultaneous effects of intersecting identities. Intersectionality scholarship is strongly linked to social justice work, particularly because those who first named and studied the concept of intersectionality lived it themselves. More recently, this perspective has spread to many fields, thus becoming widely interdisciplinary (Dill et al., 2007). The concept of intersectionality has excellent prospects for revolutionizing family studies, given the necessity of an explanatory framework for dealing with tensions internal and external to families. Families are stratified systematically by systems of oppression that hand out privileges by gender, generation, race, class, sexual orientation, and the like (Baca Zinn & Dill, 1996; Walker, 1999; Weston, 1991). Furthermore, families are stratified within: Certain individuals within families, compared with others, have differential access to power (e.g., the person designated as head of the family). A person may simultaneously exercise power and privilege in one area and experience oppression in another. Consider an example that gets at the heart of gender and class issues in families: the character

of marital and family dynamics when women earn more than their male partners. An intersectional approach exposes the complex interplay and simultaneity of power and oppression. As Ezzedeen and Ritchey (2008) reveal, despite women’s educational and economic advances, women who earn more than their husbands still cede power to them. A woman’s power in marriage actually diminishes when she earns more than her husband (Tichenor, 2005). In the absence of a man’s traditional economic dominance, both spouses work to preserve the husband’s power to make decisions, exact real and symbolic deference, and define the terms of the marital contract. Thus, a woman with the privileges associated with an executive position may, simultaneously, be subordinated in her marital relationship. The concept of intersectionality is also important for understanding the interrelationships among the people involved in generating new knowledge—researchers and participants. As described below, feminist praxis demands that scholars create knowledge that both pushes the boundaries of the discipline and has meaning in people’s lives, particularly those whose lives are being studied. Intersectionality has rich conceptual possibilities for feminist family studies to change the way many of us conceptualize and reflect on our research, our participants, and our own lives. This reflection process, or reflexivity, is integral to analyzing and theorizing from intersectionality. From a research perspective, reflexivity is a strategy for thinking through the choices one makes in the field about one’s own actions in relation to the work and to the people and ideas under investigation. Reflexivity requires accountability to self and other. As part of the intersectionality paradigm, reflexivity begins in one’s lived experience but is soon complicated by extending analyses beyond one’s own “borders.” Writing reflexively shows up the partiality of one’s claims to knowledge and forces the analyst to be more conscious and deliberate in what she claims to know and how she says it. Taking a reflexive approach means that we reveal, as honestly as possible in the thinking and writing process, the fault lines in our observations and reflections by holding them up to the scrutiny of self and others (Allen, 2000; Naples, 2001; Smith, 1999). As a theoretical innovation, intersectionality also allows us to conceptualize complexity. Yet the more complex an idea, the more difficult it

1. Reclaiming Feminist Theory, Method, and Praxis for Family Studies

is to operationalize. As McCall (2005) says, “Intersectionality has introduced new methodological problems and, partly as an unintended consequence, has limited the range of methodological approaches used to study intersectionality” (p. 1772). We can only produce a limited scope of knowledge on intersectionality if we are bound by the research methods that currently dominate the family studies field. To understand the complexity of economic inequality, for example, a simple comparison of gender and race is not enough to get at the multiple and conflicting causes of such inequality. To remedy this problem, McCall describes how the methodology of categorical complexity, informed by feminist work on intersectionality, illuminates the analysis of differences among people within and across categories. She examines each dimension of inequality first: (a) gender— between men and women; (b) class—between people who are college educated and people who are not college educated; and (c) race— among Blacks, Asians, Latino/as, Whites, and the intersections of these groups. Then, she synthesizes all of this information into a configuration of relationships among the multiple forms of inequality, the economic structure that produces them (e.g., high-tech manufacturing, immigrant, postindustrial, industrial), and the public policy strategies that would alleviate the inequality under the economic conditions (e.g., affirmative action, minimum- and living-wage campaigns). Among the benefits to this approach, McCall demonstrates that intersectionality can be studied using a structural quantitative approach, thus extending the range of this complex theoretical framework. This strategically categorical approach allows family scholars to operationalize the theoretically rich concept of intersectionality so that issues of race, class, and gender are not reified in quantitative and qualitative studies of families. Reclaiming Feminist Praxis for Family Studies Feminist praxis is integral to feminist scholarship, yet the relationship among praxis, theory, and research, particularly in the academy, is ambiguous and contested. As noted above, feminism itself began as an activist endeavor with the goal of social change. Yet, the academy still operates as if knowledge is produced under the

11

guise of rationality and emotional distance, removed from concerns for explicit social change. Even the projects designed to disseminate empirical research to the public (e.g., engagement) and to bring students into the community (e.g., service learning) have depoliticized activism, attempting to neutralize praxis as “practice” (Novek, 1999). Defining feminist praxis is challenging, because its meaning is often implied rather than delineated. Generally, praxis refers to “theory into practice.” hooks (1994) cites Freire’s (1970/1997) use of praxis as “action and reflection upon the world in order to change it” (p. 14). Hesse-Biber (2007b) uses the term to describe the practicalities of research: “Feminist praxis refers to the varied ways feminist research proceeds” (p. 14). Risman (2004) notes that “feminist scholarship always wrestles with the questions of how one can use the knowledge we create in the interest of social transformation” (p. 446). Naples (2002) states that “transnational feminist praxis foregrounds women’s agency in the context of oppressive conditions that shape their lives” (p. 267). All these definitions suggest the importance of an inclusive approach to praxis that makes room for multiple forms, from feminist activism and social movements to feminist theorizing, research, teaching, and leadership. Ultimately, feminist praxis is a dialogic process, not merely a series of actions or language imposed on those whom we study and teach. Feminist praxis is about living and doing the principles of our beliefs with deliberate intention, sensitive to power differentials at all levels of social organization, and about the possibility to change some aspect of social realities (e.g., working toward an antiracist, antisexist, antiheterosexist world). Praxis is the intangible place where theory meets research, and research is applied to real-time contexts (e.g., pedagogy) and problems of human beings. We believe that praxis must be a central component of our work as feminist family studies scholars, particularly because the positivist, gender-neutral aspects of family studies remain firmly rooted in our field (Allen, 2000; Thompson & Walker, 1995). Remaining vigilant to and challenging the ideology of the heteronormative family as well as the hegemonic structures within which we live and work are critical components of our feminist praxis. As Risman (2004) notes, such a focus is “the next

12

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

frontier for feminist change agents” (p. 445). Our goal must be to keep the revolutionary nature of praxis alive in feminist family studies in a context where the political aims of feminism have been challenged from both within and outside the academy. Recent treatises on the impact of feminism’s institutionalization within women’s studies and within some disciplines (e.g., Brown, 1997; Stacey, 2000; Wiegman, 2002) have identified the tensions and rifts that have arisen between “academic” and “activist” orientations. Indeed, Stacey (2000) concludes that academic feminism is an oxymoron in that the very definition of an academic is someone who pursues knowledge that has no practical purpose. This definition is fundamentally at odds with the political character of feminism: “What was once the subversive, intellectual arm of a thriving grassroots movement has been institutionalized and professionalized” (p. 1190). We concur that the divide between academic and activist orientations in feminist family studies should be blurred. An even more serious rift in the field of feminism revolves around race and ethnicity. Black feminist, womanist, Mestiza, and U.S. Third World feminists have been noting, year after year, the resistance and marginalization of their scholarship and theorizing from White feminists (Floyd-Thomas & Gillman, 2001; see also BellScott, Guy-Sheftall, & Royster, 1991; Collins, 1990; hooks, 1984). Bell-Scott, Guy-Sheftall, and Royster (1991) note that women’s studies scholars all too often see “scholarship on black and other women of color as narrow and peripheral to understanding women’s experiences generally” (p. 284). These deep tensions have been noted also in the experience of racism in women’s studies programs and at the National Women’s Studies Association conferences since the 1980s, where repeated calls have been made for dialogues to discuss the discrimination that racial-ethnic women experience in women’s studies programs nationwide (Bowles, 2002; Floyd-Thomas & Gillman, 2001). These critiques highlight the historical tensions between racial-ethnic women and White women that are embedded in American racism and sexism and presently expressed through the resistance of those with privilege to acknowledge their own complicity in reproducing racialized oppression against other women. These tensions are exacerbated in academic feminism, where promotion and tenure may “equalize” and

provide some legitimacy externally but do not guarantee collegial acceptance internally (Few, Piercy, & Stremmel, 2007). We must examine and critique our structures of inclusivity, learn to “center ourselves in another experience and perspective,” and use the “feminist ethic of risk” to move toward the transformation of women’s studies (Floyd-Thomas & Gillman, 2001, p. 46) and, we would add, feminist family studies. Our theorizing and practice must continue to shift the focus from externalized sexist, male-defined structures to a critique of the ways that White, middle-class, heterosexual women sustain those structures and enjoy race, class, and heterosexual privileges while perpetuating hierarchy and domination of “other” (Floyd-Thomas & Gillman, 2001; Oswald et al., 2005). Like Floyd-Thomas and Gillman (2001), we do not want to reify the racial-ethnic divides of women’s studies within the field of feminist family studies. Nor do we want to privilege the practical over the theoretical or to make social movement the core basis for our discipline and thus limit our work to an activist project (Wiegman, 2002). To these ends, we conceptualize the political, intersectional, practical, and theoretical as integrated entities. We see feminist family studies as a site where analytics, intersections, and practicalities are inextricably bound up together. As a result, we celebrate this deep emphasis on feminist family studies praxis and see the historic integration of turning theory into action as a great strength of our discipline. As Baber (2004) states, although theory serves as a critical guide for organizing information and identifying the research path, theory is not the end goal. The linkage of theory, research, and practice is essential for “improving the opportunities and well-being of women and other silenced groups” (p. 979). Thus, praxis is a disciplinary essential within feminist family studies. If we fail to step up to the implications of our own theoretical analyses and carefully crafted feminist studies, we leave room open for the positivist/normative undergirding of the field to seep to the forefront once again. Given that “the family” and “feminism” are both likely to remain sites of political contestation, we must consciously take up the intersectional and the political in ways that are consistent with our complicated feminist visions of social transformation. We import three ideas from feminist studies to improve feminist family

1. Reclaiming Feminist Theory, Method, and Praxis for Family Studies

studies. First, as Kennedy and Beins (2005) explain in their analysis of the future of feminism, we believe that feminist family scholars must “focus on the challenge of finding a viable relationship between theory and practice” (p. 18). Second, we need to challenge dualisms in the discussion of praxis (Zimmerman, 2005). Rubin (2005) observed that academic feminists complain about the apolitical nature of theory, noting the irony of “this binary itself” (p. 252), which is so disabling. Rather than a bifurcation, Rubin urges the possibility of seeing “theory and practice as both relationally constitutive and relationally interrogatory—to see that they can and indeed, do work together to enhance a variety of praxes” (p. 252). A move toward feminist praxis is not a move away from the theoretical; like Rubin, we see the possibilities of a complex praxis that includes participatory action research intersecting with complex feminist theorizing. Dodson and Schmalzbauer (2005), for example, integrated methodological approaches grounded in Black feminist (e.g., Collins) and liberatory praxis (e.g., Freire) theories to join with their participants in studying the strategies poor women use to navigate family survival in the context of a welfare culture. Third, we must attend to the tensions of engaging praxis. Difficulties arise when working to critique and transform an organizational or theoretical structure while using the very tools and discourses that created it (Balen, 2005; Lorde, 1984; Rubin, 2005). We must avoid reperpetuating the very oppressions that we seek to challenge. As we discuss next, a commitment to interdisciplinarity allows us to engage conflict and struggle, rather than manage difference within arbitrary academic silos (hooks, 1994; Mohanty, 1994). Ultimately, while embracing our feminist praxis, we must remain skeptical, questioning the ways that praxis may reify the existing structure or be used as a wedge to reinforce disciplinary isolation. We must consistently analyze our own work and encourage those in other disciplines to assist us in critiquing our work and our thinking in order to think and work beyond our borders that are disciplinary, familial, local, and global. The Promise of Interdisciplinarity: Feminist Family Studies At the heart of feminist family studies is a concern and a critique of the places we call home.

13

Home, whether academic or familial, is full of contradictions—joy and sorrow, empowerment and repressiveness, ignorance and insight. Attending to the intersecting disciplines of feminism and family studies, themselves interdisciplinary composites, means that we struggle with often irreconcilable distinctions between the two, as the history of feminist family studies reveals. Ironically, both feminism and family studies have been critiqued as harmful, irrelevant, or outdated, suggesting at times that feminism and families, as separate topics, have outlived their usefulness. Note the underlying similarity in the following arguments. Elam and Wiegman (1995), on the one hand, argue that feminism has become “too-feminist,” that is, too self-referential, implying that it has lost its theoretical edge. Wills and Risman (2006) claim that feminism has not had much impact on research published in the leading family studies journals, implying that it is less relevant than once thought. On the other hand, feminist critiques of “The Family” as so oppressive to women admonish that the family should be abandoned because it is beyond reform (Thorne, 1982). Other scholars point to ways in which marriage is becoming deinstitutionalized; contemporary demographic shifts are rendering irrelevant what was once thought to be the “natural” pairing of marriage and family (Cherlin, 2004). As feminist family scholars, we stand at the intersection of these two disciplines, intrigued by the challenges of investigating families, intersectionality, and change. We are not willing to abandon either field, even when they are out of fashion. Investigating families is our passion; generating new ways of ensuring agency for all members of families is how we enact feminist practice. We have a renewable faith in the power of questioning assumptions—deconstructing them and working out new ways of being and doing. We are committed to an interdisciplinary perspective that combines academic and activist work on families. Interdisciplinary work is challenging but rewarding. As Allen and Kitch (1998) note, synthesis and integration across disciplines can not only help solve practical problems but can also “create a new epistemology . . . rebuild the prevailing structure of knowledge . . . and create new organizing concepts, methodologies, or skills” (p. 276). Given the roots of both feminism and family studies in bringing together multiple

14

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

disciplines, discourses, and methodologies, the journey to an integrated interdisciplinarity is well situated within both fields. Yet the journey may have stalled, for as interdisciplinary sites within academia gain a place at the table, they, in turn, become “disciplined” themselves as a means not only to create a new canon but also as a means of continued legitimacy (Katz, 2001). Feminist scholars with home appointments in mainstream disciplines (e.g., family studies) must comply with the conventions of their home discipline, decidedly more traditional (e.g., often masculinist and heterosexist) than women’s studies (Leslie & Sollie, 1994). Yet pressures to conform to bureaucratic hierarchies are also noted as academic feminism has become more institutionalized in terms of tenure-track positions, degree-granting programs, graduate and undergraduate courses, and scholarly journals (Andersen, 2005). Gaining legitimacy in the academy and/or the home discipline often means relinquishing some ability to take the risks necessary for new forms of thinking and action. It is difficult to be an agent of change when learning to wield the patriarch’s sword. It is impossible to be totally free from the constraints of oppression and thus to avoid reproducing oppression even as we resist (Balen, 2005). To rephrase Walker and Thompson’s (1984) question: How can one be a feminist activist and a family scientist? New metaphors are needed to envision the interdisciplinary potential for feminist family studies. Friedman (2001) uses metaphors of “travel” and “home” to describe her connections to both literary studies and women’s studies. Traveling across these two homes, as well as to other disciplines, can provide new perspectives: Travel elsewhere denaturalizes home, brings into visibility the constructedness of what is taken for granted within one’s home base . . . [and] dislodges unquestioned assumptions and produces new insight, new questions to ask, new solutions to intellectual impasses at home. (p. 508)

We find these metaphors pivotal as we think about the need for a revolutionized interdisciplinarity within feminist family studies. For us, feminism is a worldview, but it is also a home base from which we travel to others’ worlds, with an attitude of careful curiosity (Allen, 2001). Feminist reflexive praxis challenges us to

constantly ask ourselves if we have traveled far enough, synthesizing and integrating knowledge outside our comfort zones. There are complexities in such travel, Friedman (2001) notes, especially the potential for misreading, appropriating, or misusing knowledge gleaned from a field in which one has not been fully trained. Interdisciplinarity requires a great deal of reflexivity, openness to other discourses and epistemologies, and hard work to reach across boundaries and learn from and with scholars in other disciplines (Allen & Kitch, 1998; Baber, 2004; Friedman, 2001). At the same time, it is hard to determine what the boundaries of disciplines are today. To keep families in the center of analysis, we need to rely on ideas from multiple sources. We worry that family studies scholars are too insular—citing only a few key sources and avoiding the explosion of ideas and analyses that are developing across women’s studies and feminist theory. Feminist family studies becomes undertheorized if we rely too much on theory borrowed from mainstream disciplines. Feminist family scholars are passionate about the critical analysis of families as intersections of power, conflict, and love. Yet we, too, must resist our tendency to “go with what we know.” Feminism has evolved, and we need to evolve, too. We should feel freer to experiment, take risks, and be more playful and creative in our generation of new knowledge. And we should push ourselves outside our own interdisciplinarity within the social sciences to learn from feminist discourses and practices in arts and humanities, cultural studies, and sciences, among others. Yet when bold new theorizing attempts are made, as in Oswald et al.’s (2005) theoretical model for queering heteronormativity in family research, which involves complex gendering, sexualities, and families, they are criticized in the discipline (Allen, 2005) and rarely influential beyond our own disciplinary borders. Ultimately, the challenge feminist family scholars face is to keep the focus on scholarship and praxis in order to create new knowledge that matters for ourselves, our students, our participants, and those whose lives we wish to change. To date, participatory feminist action research may be the most explicit method for achieving the challenge to combine theory, structure, agency, and praxis. It is certainly a critical way to deeply engage intersectionality theory and practice in racial-ethnic feminisms (Collins, 2000;

1. Reclaiming Feminist Theory, Method, and Praxis for Family Studies

Few et al., 2007). Uttal (2006), for example, conducted action research with social service agencies that were seeking to increase the number of Spanish-speaking certified child care providers. Uttal demonstrates how the state certification process was not in sync with the diversity of Latino cultures and communities. Cultural competency ultimately required careful attention to the cultural context, social locations, and material conditions of the participants and their communities as well as shifts in philosophy and organization to holistic, community-based perspectives. With these few exceptions, however, demonstrations of how to change or ways that praxis has worked in feminist family scholarship are not accumulating. It is important to go beyond the calls and critiques of missed opportunities to bring feminist theory, research, and praxis (back) into the family field.

CONCLUSION After nearly 30 years of synthesizing feminist ways of thinking to understand family life, we have arrived at the current moment where feminism is no longer an “add-on” (e.g., feminism and family studies) but indelibly connected (e.g., feminist family studies). Some feminist perspectives, such as adding a feminist analysis of gender, are now well recognized in family studies. Other innovations, such as feminist analyses of intersectionality and interdisciplinarity, still need further integration into family studies. We also suggest that feminist family praxis needs to be revitalized. Collectively, scholarship and practice have become much more challenging, given the advances in interdisciplinary feminist theorizing, intersectional and transnational perspectives, and the renewed examination of the place of feminist praxis. These advances have complicated the entire process of research, and they challenge us in feminist family studies. This Handbook provides examples from feminist family scholars who are generating ways to embolden their projects with feminist theory, method, and praxis. Despite often irreconcilable worldviews, we cannot imagine family studies today without careful attention to feminist perspectives on gender, intersectionality, praxis, and interdisciplinarity. Given the flexibility inherent in such interdisciplinary approaches and the malleable

15

nature of our subject matters, we find feminist family studies an exciting arena to explore theory, method, and praxis concerning an array of intersections. Our vision is to reveal ways in which the intersection of feminism and family studies—how they contribute to and critique each other—spark new pathways for transformation and change in our disciplines and our lives. Lighting that fire is the purpose of this Handbook, evidence of our collective efforts, and inspiration for deeper knowledge.

REFERENCES Alexander, M. J., & Mohanty, C. T. (1997). Introduction: Genealogies, legacies, movements. In M. J. Alexander & C. T. Mohanty (Eds.), Feminist genealogies, colonial legacies, democratic futures (pp. xiii-xlii). New York: Routledge. Allen, J. A., & Kitch, S. L. (1998). Disciplined by disciplines? The need for an interdisciplinary research mission in women’s studies. Feminist Studies, 24, 275–299. Allen, K. R. (2000). A conscious and inclusive family studies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 4–17. Allen, K. R. (2001). Feminist visions for transforming families: Desire and equality then and now. Journal of Family Issues, 22, 791–809. Allen, K. R. (2005). Pushing the boundaries of the Sourcebook. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. Dilworth-Anderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 628–630). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Allen, W. R. (1978). The search for applicable theories of Black family life. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 40, 117–129. Andersen, M. L. (2005). Thinking about women: A quarter century’s view. Gender & Society, 19, 437–455. Baber, K. M. (2004). Building bridges: Feminist research, theory, and practice: A response to Janet Saltzman Chafetz. Journal of Family Issues, 25, 978–983. Baber, K. M., & Allen, K. R. (1992). Women & families: Feminist reconstructions. New York: Guilford Press. Baca Zinn, M., & Dill, B. T. (1996). Theorizing differences from multiracial feminism. Feminist Studies, 22, 321–331. Balen, J. (2005). Practicing what we teach. In E. Kennedy & A. Beins (Eds.), Women’s studies for the future: Foundations, interrogations, politics (pp. 272–284). New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Bell-Scott, P., Guy-Sheftall, B., & Royster, J. J. (1991). The promise and challenge of Black women’s studies: A report from the Spelman conference. NWSA Journal, 3, 281–288. Bell-Scott, P., Guy-Sheftall, B., Royster, J. J., Sims-Wood, J., DeCosta-Willis, M., & Fultz, L. (Eds.). (1991). Double stitch: Black women write about mothers and daughters. Boston: Beacon. Bernard, J. (1972). The future of marriage. New York: Bantam Books. Bernstein, M., & Reimann, R. (2001). Queer families and the politics of visibility. In M. Bernstein & R. Reimann (Eds.), Queer families, queer politics: Challenging culture and the state (pp. 1–17). New York: Columbia University Press. Bhavnani, K. (2007). Interconnections and configurations: Toward a global feminist ethnography. In S. N. Hesse-Biber (Ed.), Handbook of feminist research: Theory and praxis (pp. 639–649). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Bowles, G. (2002). Putting our heads together: Some personal recollections of NWSA national conventions, 1979–1983. NWSA Journal, 14, 124–133. Bozett, F. W. (1980). Gay fathers: How and why they disclose their homosexuality to their children. Family Relations, 29, 173–179.

16

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

Brown, W. (1997). The impossibility of women’s studies. Differences: A Journal of Feminist Cultural Studies, 9(3), 79–101. Bubolz, M. M., & Sontag, M. S. (1993). Human ecology theory. In P. Boss, W. J. Doherty, R. LaRossa, W. R. Schumm, & S. K. Steinmetz (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theories and methods: A contextual approach (pp. 419–448). New York: Plenum Press. Butler, J. (1990). Gender trouble: Feminism and the subversion of identity. New York: Routledge. Chafetz, J. S. (2004). Bridging feminist theory and research methodology. Journal of Family Issues, 25, 963–977. Cherlin, A. J. (2004). The deinstitutionalization of American marriage. Journal of Marriage and Family, 66, 848–861. Collins, P. H. (1990). Black feminist thought: Knowledge, consciousness, and the politics of empowerment. Boston: Unwin Hyman. Collins, P. H. (2000). It’s all in the family: Intersections of gender, race, and nation. In U. Narayan & S. Harding (Eds.), Decentering the center: Philosophy for a multicultural, postcolonial, and feminist world (pp. 156–176). Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Combahee River Collective. (2000). The Combahee River Collective Statement, 1977. In B. Smith (Ed.), Homegirls: A Black feminist anthology (pp. 264–274). New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Crenshaw, K. (1991). Mapping the margins: Intersectionality, identity politics, and violence against women of color. Stanford Law Review, 43, 1241–1279. Crowley, M., Lichter, D. T., & Qian, Z. (2006). Beyond gateway cities: Economic restructuring and poverty among Mexican immigrant families and children. Family Relations, 55, 345–360. Davis, A. Y. (1981). Women, race, and class. New York: Random House. Demo, D. H., Allen, K. R., & Fine, M. A. (Eds.). (2000). Handbook of family diversity. New York: Oxford University Press. De Reus, L., Few, A. L., & Blume, L. B. (2005). Multicultural and critical race feminisms: Theorizing families in the third wave. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. DilworthAnderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 447–468). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Dill, B. T., McLaughlin, A. E., & Nieves, A. D. (2007). Future directions of feminist research: Intersectionality. In S. N. Hesse-Biber (Ed.), Handbook of feminist research: Theory and praxis (pp. 629–637). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Dilworth-Anderson, P., Burton, L. M., & Johnson, L. B. (1993). Reframing theories for understanding race, ethnicity, and families. In P. Boss, W. J. Doherty, R. LaRossa, W. R. Schumm, & S. K. Steinmetz (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theories and methods: A contextual approach (pp. 627–646). New York: Plenum Press. Dodson, L., & Schmalzbauer, L. (2005). Poor mothers and habits of hiding: Participatory methods in poverty research. Journal of Marriage and Family, 67, 949–959. Doherty, W. J., Boss, P. G., LaRossa, R., Schumm, W. R., & Steinmetz, S. K. (1993). Family theories and methods: A contextual approach. In P. Boss, W. J. Doherty, R. LaRossa, W. R. Schumm, & S. K. Steinmetz (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theories and methods: A contextual approach (pp. 3–30). New York: Plenum Press. Dressel, P., & Clark, A. (1990). A critical look at family care. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 52, 769–782. Du Bois, W. E. B. (1996). The souls of Black folk. New York: Penguin. (Original work published 1903) Elam, D., & Wiegman, R. (1995). Contingencies. In D. Elam & R. Wiegman (Eds.), Feminism beside itself (pp. 1–8). New York: Routledge. Ezzedeen, S. R., & Ritchey, K. G. (2008). The man behind the woman: A qualitative study of the spousal support received and valued by executive women. Journal of Family Issues, 29, 1107–1135. Ferree, M. M. (1990). Beyond separate spheres: Feminism and family research. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 52, 866–884.

Few, A. L., Piercy, F. P., & Stremmel, A. (2007). Balancing the passion for activism with the demands of tenure: One professional’s story from three perspectives. National Women’s Studies Association Journal, 19(3), 47–66. Floyd-Thomas, S. M., & Gillman, L. (2001). Facing the Medusa: Confronting the ongoing impossibility of women’s studies. Journal of International Women’s Studies, 2(2), 35–52. Fox, G. L., & Murry, V. M. (2000). Gender and families: Feminist perspectives and family research. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 1160–1172. Freedman, E. B. (2002). No turning back: The history of feminism and the future of women. New York: Ballantine. Freire, P. (1997). Pedagogy of the oppressed (M. B. Ramos, Trans.; New rev. ed.). New York: Continuum. (Original work published 1970) Friedman, S. S. (2001). Statement: Academic feminism and interdisciplinarity. Feminist Studies, 27, 504–509. Goode, W. J. (1982). Why men resist. In B. Thorne (with M. Yalom) (Ed.), Rethinking the family: Some feminist questions (pp. 131–150). New York: Longman. Gubrium, J. F., & Holstein, J. A. (1990). What is family? Mountain View, CA: Mayfield. Hesse-Biber, S. N. (Ed.). (2007a). Handbook of feminist research: Theory and praxis. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Hesse-Biber, S. N. (2007b). Feminist research: Exploring the interconnections of epistemology, methodology, and method. In S. N. Hesse-Biber (Ed.), Handbook of feminist research: Theory and praxis (pp. 1–26). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. hooks, b. (1984). Feminist theory: From margin to center. Cambridge, MA: South End Press. hooks, b. (1994). Teaching to transgress: Education as the practice of freedom. New York: Routledge. Hull, G. T., Bell-Scott, P. B., & Smith, B. (Eds.). (1982). All the women are White, all the Blacks are men, but some of us are brave: Black women’s studies. Old Westbury, NY: Feminist Press. Katz, C. (2001). Response: Disciplining interdisciplinarity. Feminist Studies, 27, 519–525. Kennedy, E., & Beins, A. (2005). Introduction. In E. Kennedy & A. Beins (Eds.), Women’s studies for the future: Foundations, interrogations, politics (pp. 1–28). New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Leslie, L. A., & Sollie, D. L. (1994). Why a book on feminist relationship research? In D. L. Sollie & L. A. Leslie (Eds.), Gender, families and close relationships: Feminist research journeys (pp. 1–15). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Lopata, H. Z. (1971). Occupation: Housewife. New York: Oxford University Press. Lopata, H. Z., & Thorne, B. (1978). On the term “sex roles.” Signs, 3, 718–721. Lorde, A. (1984). Sister outsider. Freedom, CA: Crossing Press. Maddison, S. (2007). Feminist perspectives on social movement research. In S. N. Hesse-Biber (Ed.), Handbook of feminist research: Theory and praxis (pp. 391–407). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Marshall, V., Matthews, S., & Rosenthal, C. (1993). Elusiveness of family life: A challenge for the sociology of aging. Annual Review of Gerontology and Geriatrics, 13, 39–72. McAdoo, H. P. (1978). Factors related to stability in upwardly mobile Black families. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 40, 761–776. McCall, L. (2005). The complexity of intersectionality. Signs, 30, 1771–1800. Mohanty, C. T. (1994). On race and voice: Challenges for liberal education in the 1990s. In H. Giroux & P. McLaren (Eds.), Between borders: Pedagogy and the politics of cultural studies (pp. 179–208). New York: Routledge. Mohanty, C. T. (2003). Feminism without borders: Decolonizing theory, practicing solidarity. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Moraga, C. (1983). Loving in the war years. Boston: South End Press. Naples, N. A. (2001). A member of the funeral: An introspective ethnography. In M. Bernstein & R. Reimann (Eds.), Queer

1. Reclaiming Feminist Theory, Method, and Praxis for Family Studies families, queer politics: Challenging culture and the state (pp. 21–43). New York: Columbia University Press. Naples, N. A. (2002). The challenges and possibilities of transnational feminist praxis. In N. A. Naples & M. Desai (Eds.), Women’s activism and globalization: Linking local struggles and transnational politics (pp. 267–281). New York: Routledge. Novek, E. M. (1999). Service is a feminist issue: Transforming communication pedagogy. Women’s Studies in Communication, 22, 230–240. Olson, L. N., Fine, M. A., & Lloyd, S. A. (2005). Theorizing about aggression between intimates: A dialectical approach. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. Dilworth-Anderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 315–340). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Osmond, M. W. (1987). Radical-critical theories. In M. B. Sussman & S. K. Steinmetz (Eds.), Handbook of marriage and the family (pp. 103–124). New York: Plenum Press. Osmond, M. W., & Thorne, B. (1993). Feminist theories. In P. G. Boss, W. J. Doherty, R. LaRossa, W. R. Schumm, & S. K. Steinmetz (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theories and methods (pp. 591–623). New York: Plenum Press. Oswald, R. F., Blume, L. B., & Marks, S. R. (2005). Decentering heteronormativity: A model for family studies. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. DilworthAnderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 143–165). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Peters, M. F. (1974). The Black family—perpetuating the myths: An analysis of family sociology textbook treatment of Black families. Family Coordinator, 23, 349–357. Peters, M. F., & Massey, G. (1983). Mundane extreme environmental stress in family stress theories: The case of Black families in White America. Marriage and Family Review, 6, 193–218. Risman, B. J. (2004). Gender as a social structure: Theory wrestling with activism. Gender & Society, 18, 429–450. Rubin, D. (2005). Women’s studies, neoliberalism, and the paradox of the “political.” In E. Kennedy & A. Beins (Eds.), Women’s studies for the future: Foundations, interrogations, politics (pp. 245–261). New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Rubin, L. B. (1976). Worlds of pain: Life in the working-class family. New York: Basic Books. Ruddick, S. (1982). Maternal thinking. In B. Thorne (with M. Yalom) (Ed.), Rethinking the family: Some feminist questions (pp. 76–94). New York: Longman. Safilios-Rothschild, C. (1969). Family sociology or wives’ family sociology? A cross-cultural examination of decision-making. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 31, 290–301. Scanzoni, J., & Fox, G. L. (1980). Sex roles, family and society: The seventies and beyond. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 42, 20–33. Schmeeckle, M., Giarrusso, R., Feng, D., & Bengtson, V. L. (2006). What makes someone family? Adult children’s perceptions of current and former stepparents. Journal of Marriage and Family, 68, 595–610. Smith, D. E. (1987). The everyday world as problematic: A feminist sociology. Boston: Northeastern University Press.

17

Smith, D. E. (1999). Writing the social: Critique, theory, and investigations. Toronto, Ontario, Canada: University of Toronto Press. Sollie, D. L., & Leslie, L. A. (Eds.). (1994). Gender, families, and close relationships: Feminist research journeys. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Stacey, J. (2000). Is academic feminism an oxymoron? Signs, 25, 1189–1194. Thomas, W. I., & Znaniecki, F. (1918–1920). The Polish peasant in Europe and America: Monograph of an immigrant group (Vols. 1–5). Boston: Badger. Thompson, L. (1992). Feminist methodology for family studies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 54, 3–18. Thompson, L., & Walker, A. J. (1989). Gender in families: Women and men in marriage, work, and parenthood. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 51, 845–871. Thompson, L., & Walker, A. J. (1995). The place of feminism in family studies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 57, 847–865. Thompson, P. J. (1992). Home economics: Feminism in a Hestian voice. In C. Kramarae & D. Spender (Eds.), The knowledge explosion: Generations of feminist scholarship (pp. 270–280). New York: Teachers College Press. Thorne, B. (with Yalom, M.). (Ed.). (1982). Rethinking the family: Some feminist questions. New York: Longman. Tichenor, V. (2005). Maintaining men’s dominance: Negotiating identity and power when she earns more. Sex Roles, 53, 191–205. Tronto, J. C. (1987). Beyond gender difference to a theory of care. Signs, 12, 644–663. Uttal, L. (1999). Using kin for child care: Embedment in the socioeconomic networks of extended families. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 61, 845–857. Uttal, L. (2006). Community caregiving and community consciousness: Immigrant Latinas developing communities through social service programs. Journal of the Community Development Society, 27, 53–70. Walker, A. J. (1999). Gender and family relationships. In M. Sussman, S. K. Steinmetz, & G. W. Peterson (Eds.), Handbook of marriage and the family (2nd ed., pp. 439–474). New York: Plenum Press. Walker, A. J., & Thompson, L. (1984). Feminism and family studies. Journal of Family Issues, 5, 545–570. West, C., & Zimmerman, D. (1987). Doing gender. Gender & Society, 1, 125–151. Weston, K. (1991). Families we choose: Gays, lesbians, kinship. New York: Columbia University Press. Wiegman, R. (2002). Academic feminism against itself. NWSA Journal, 14(2), 18–37. Wills, J. B., & Risman, B. J. (2006). The visibility of feminist thought in family studies. Journal of Marriage and Family, 68, 690–700. Zimmerman, B. (2005). Beyond dualisms. In E. Kennedy & A. Beins (Eds.), Women’s studies for the future: Foundations, interrogations, politics (pp. 31–39). New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press.

2 A FEMINIST CRITIQUE OF FAMILY STUDIES A LEXIS J. WALKER

C

an one be both a feminist and an editor of a traditional family science journal? Can a feminist editor make a notable difference in the “business as usual” of a conservative family journal? How is the feminist work in a mainstream family journal different—and better? What do we need for family studies to help improve women’s lives? In this chapter, I reflect on these questions. As an organizing framework, I draw from Marie Withers Osmond’s (1987) thoughtful feminist analysis of the work of the early thinkers of the field, most notably Ernest Burgess. I follow her lead in summarizing their deeply conservative underlying assumptions and also show their remarkable persistence to the present day. Exposing these assumptions is essential for showing the shallowness of our research questions and the distortions of people’s lives that result from how we study them. As I have done before, I once again raise feminist objections to these assumptions. I also show how feminist and traditional approaches coexist in contemporary family studies. I conclude by asking feminists to pay attention to subject matter in choosing research topics and to be reflexive in writing about our work. Osmond (1987) summarized the fundamental family studies assumptions. Organizing them a little differently than she did, I state them here: 18

• “The family” is the foundation of social order, with role divisions that are both essential and universal. • The functions of the family for society have become less important as the family has lost its economic purpose and as the family has shifted from a social institution to a location for companionship. • Families are best seen as networks of personal relationships. • The family is a private realm, distinguishable and separate from the public realm. • Families follow marriage; the solidarity of marriage is at the core of the field. • The study of families, particularly family sociology, differs from the sociology of society because of the public/private distinction between the family and society. One can only study families by studying the interaction of individuals within families (not by studying the relation between families and society). • Families are homogeneous units, so one family member can faithfully account for the views, beliefs, and experiences of other family members. • Quantitative methods and scientific objectivity are the sine qua non of family studies.

2. A Feminist Critique of Family Studies

Although these assumptions characterized the study of families in its earliest days, later I describe how they continue to be evident in much of the contemporary family research. First, though, I reflect on the experience of editing a mainstream family journal.

CONFESSIONS OF A FORMER EDITOR For 6 years (volumes published from 2002 through 2007), I edited the Journal of Marriage and Family (JMF). In some disciplines and to many renowned scholars, JMF is the preeminent outlet for family research. It is a well-established journal, having been published since 1939, among the earliest days of the field. It is often the first outlet family researchers consider when deciding where to submit a manuscript for publication. Given its centrality to the discipline, it should not be surprising that, nearly seven decades after its initiation, it remains deeply conservative and the research published in it true to many if not most of the fundamental assumptions outlined by Osmond (1987). For this reason, I found the role of editor to be particularly challenging. On the one hand, selection of an avowed feminist as editor was conceivably a way of moving the field forward in the direction of understanding and improving women’s lives in all their diversity. For years, rather than a solution, feminists had seen JMF as part of the problem (Thorne, 1982; Walker & Thompson, 1984). Rarely did it include critical analyses of “the family” or of the family field, and the empirical work within it often assumed that families “naturally” consisted of young, married heterosexual couples with children whose members shared “a harmony of interests” (Thorne, p. 10). Furthermore, gender was almost never a central focus of the analysis, even though much of the work could be described as “wives’ family sociology” (Safilios-Rothschild, 1970). And families were almost never studied in relation to the broader social structure (Thorne; Walker & Thompson). With a feminist at its helm, perhaps more feminist scholars could now see JMF as a friendly and supportive outlet. On the other hand, I had promised the screening committee that my first priority would be “to do no harm.” Maintaining and hopefully enhancing the status and quality of the Journal was my quintessential editorial

19

responsibility. To be faithful to this promise, to the field, to its leading scholars, and to the core disciplines it represents (i.e., primarily sociology; clinical, developmental, and social psychology; and interdisciplinary fields such as human development and family studies), maintaining or enhancing quality meant continuing to publish work in the (conservative) tradition on which the field was founded and to which it had mostly remained true in the intervening years. Nevertheless, I did not see my two goals (i.e., do no harm and publish feminist work) as being in conflict. Instead, as any feminist would, I believed and continue to believe that feminist scholarship, being a strong reflection of the reality of people’s lives, would present multiple opportunities to enhance our understanding of families and to advance the field. Furthermore, I thought I could accelerate the rate of change by changing the editorial board over which I had complete authority. And indeed, I added many women, feminists, scholars of color, and international researchers to the review panel over the course of my term. And yet, not surprisingly, work within the conservative tradition was mostly what the journal received— and published—during my tenure. Despite dramatic editorial board changes, most of the reviews during my tenure were conducted by individuals who were in the journal’s database of occasional reviewers. Given the large numbers of submissions and the need for three reviewers for each submission, at best, no more than 30% of the reviews were carried out by editorial board members. I necessarily drew instead from the list of occasional reviewers, which consisted primarily of researchers who had been working in the field of family science for many years, who had published in JMF and/or related journals, and who had a long-standing record as effective reviewers. True, even this database changed significantly over the 6-year period—and also doubled in size—thanks in large part to my very capable journal staff as well as to the Internet, which made it possible to seek and to find scholars who would not normally be within the scope of JMF’s radar. But mostly it was business as usual at JMF. Trying to change the status quo. Changing the editorial board and updating the reviewer data base are the types of changes that may ultimately change the nature of what gets accepted in a journal, but it is change at a snail’s pace. (Adding a name to a list of 2,000 names is not very noticeable.) Although my term was extended

20

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

from 4 to 6 years, I expect that the impact of the gradually changed database will occur primarily in the years to come because, over time, hundreds of new names will be noticeable. In the meantime, I had no choice but to pursue my two goals of (a) doing no harm and (b) helping feminist researchers come to see JMF as a welcoming outlet by using a panel of reviewers culled largely from the conservative traditions of the field, who were reading manuscripts largely describing research from within these conservative traditions. Perhaps most researchers submitting to JMF do not even know who the editor is. For example, during my tenure, I received correspondence for former editors Robert Milardo, Marilyn Coleman, and even Alan Booth, who edited JMF as long as 16 years before my term began! I could invite submissions and comments, of course, but I had a limited ability to do so. To fill the pages of a journal with invited work, without the publisher (the National Council on Family Relations) adding additional pages, could lead researchers to believe that the journal was losing precious space and would not be able to accept as many papers; that is, JMF would be seen as not having as much room as it used to have before the editor began to squander it away. Such a perception would have conflicted with my goal of doing no harm. This example illustrates one of the challenges of journal editorship. On the one hand, it is a position of absolute power. In making a decision, for example, I not infrequently said to myself, “I get to decide.” More women should have the experience of doing so! On the other hand, my decisions were constrained by my two competing or conflicting goals as well as the material with which I was working; that is, the submissions I received and the reviews. Although the reviewers who crafted reviews were very competent and incredibly generous with their time, they mostly were not feminists. Both their strong, positive feelings about the traditional work they evaluated and my editorial decision were always conveyed to the authors. Reviewers’ input was important, in part, because I often knew little about the subject matter of a manuscript. Given that JMF covers such a wealth of family-related topics, rarely did I know more or even as much as the experts in a subject matter area. For example, one of my interests is families in middle and later life. Yet much if not most of what I read during my term

focused on families with young children or adolescents. (I return to this point later.) Over the course of my term, many, many manuscripts that did not even pretend to be feminist received extremely positive reviews. It would take enormous ego strength for me to have sent those reviews to authors and then to reject their work because it was not feminist. “Experts” in the area—carefully chosen reviewers—had evaluated it positively. My options were limited. The most I could do in such situations was to require authors to temper their conclusions, to highlight the limitations of their work, and to consider alternative explanations, including feminist ideas and accounts. Typically, the changes I required amounted to two or three sentences about the limitations of the sample and the measures or the lack of information about other potentially key contextual factors. These sentences usually were buried in the discussion. I also asked authors to insert words such as seems and may into the description of the results. The effect of these minor changes no doubt was limited. I worked as well to convince authors—and reviewers—that it was acceptable, even preferable, to use the first person. Doing so is consistent with the feminist position that research is an embodied process and that researchers have agency in designing studies, in recruiting participants, in collecting and analyzing data, in drawing conclusions, and in writing the research text (Sprague, 2005). Even in my most self-confident moments, however, these changes never felt sufficient. How difficult it was indeed to move away from business as usual! Feminism Comes Face-to-Face With Antifeminism In the very worst instance of my tenure—one that still haunts me—I felt compelled to publish a manuscript that went against all my feminist sensibilities. The paper described a populationbased quantitative study of interpersonal violence. The design employed a gender-difference approach to study the prevalence of violence and its effects on mental health. Reviewers— experts in the area of interpersonal violence— extolled the importance of the population studied, the recruitment procedures, and the final sample. The analytic techniques were beyond reproach. Given the contested nature of

2. A Feminist Critique of Family Studies

this area of study, however, views regarding the measures were predictably divided: Reviewers argued either that the measures were reliable, valid, and in the successful measurement tradition well established in this area of study (nonfeminist view) or that they lacked nuance and attention to context (feminist view). Although I saw to it that the appropriate cautions were inserted into the text, I could only think that publishing this sort of work had the potential to harm women rather than to meet the feminist imperative of improving the quality of our lives. Because of my promise to do no harm, I felt that I had no choice but to accept this work for publication. I could not reject it because it used a research design that I did not like. Indeed, the very same methods have been used by many feminists to document gender inequality (see Sprague, 2005). Nor could I reject it on the basis of measurement. As noted, although problematic from a feminist perspective, the measures used were indeed consistent with an approach respected for its adherence to current (and long-standing) standards for validity and reliability. The field of interpersonal violence seems to be hopelessly divided: a mainstream, conservative approach is maintained alongside a feminist approach critical of its research questions, its metrics, and, ultimately, its conclusions. In other words, in the contemporary family field, both approaches are considered to be “scientific” and both are viable. I did the only thing I could think of that was within my power and that would attend to the thoughtful, meaningful, and essential feminist critiques of a conservative approach to the study of interpersonal violence. I invited feminist scholars, well respected for their work in this field, to comment on this article. And I gave them free reign to write whatever they wanted. Doing so made me feel better about getting the feminist message into JMF and helped me worry less about the consequences—for women and for this line of research—of publishing the study in question. Nevertheless, I continue to wonder whether these articles and comments make a difference. Have I done a disservice to women in general and to feminists in particular by giving this work space within a prestigious journal? How much difference did it make that the article was published? Unfortunately, more difference than I had hoped. Sadly and perhaps predictably, given the very conservative nature of our field (Osmond, 1987), at the time of this writing

21

(June 2008), the article in question ranks 17th in articles cited among those published in JMF during the previous 3 years. Did the comments make a difference? It is doubtful. They appear neither in the 20 most cited nor in the 20 most downloaded articles. In the end, I may have only strengthened the hold of the conservative tradition on the study of interpersonal violence. Just as Judith Stacey (2004) confessed when describing her painful experience with public sociology, I found that I had inadvertently bolstered the conservative ideology I had sought to depose. I made many, many decisions during my 6-year term as editor, none as painful as the one I described above. I read—multiple times— everything that was published in JMF during this period. And I also read the vast majority of the manuscripts that were rejected. Editing the premier family journal provided me with a very wide window on contemporary family research, a view I saw both through the eyes of an editor and through the eyes of a feminist. As editor, I was pleased to have the opportunity to read exciting work that I knew would influence the field; as a feminist, I was thrilled when this work paid attention to women, placing them front and center. I made an editorial decision on more than 2,700 manuscripts over the course of my term, about 15% of which were eventually published in JMF. As already noted, most of what I read was unrelated to my own research. It also was decidedly not feminist. And yet, nearly every manuscript was interesting, even absorbing. I am a passionate feminist but I am also passionate about families and the family field. Nearly all research related to families interests me, sometimes only because it makes me wonder what a feminist approach would have contributed to it.

FUNCTIONALISM AND CONTEMPORARY FAMILY SCIENCE The irony of an avowed feminist editing a major, even powerful, mainstream social science journal was not lost on me. Here I was in a position of power among a most privileged group. By making decisions to publish the work of mainstream family scholars, I was, in Sprague’s (2005) words, “helping to naturalize and sustain their [italics added] privilege in the process” (p. 2). During my editorial term, as already noted, the manuscripts I published continued to reflect the

22

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

functionalist thinking long since identified by Osmond (1987): (a) an emphasis on families as a set of personal relationships disconnected from macrostructures; (b) a view of women as subordinate to the interests and well-being of other family members; (c) an insular and ahistorical approach; and (d) an emphasis that overstates agreement and similarity. This thinking is rarely if ever explicit. Instead, it is a subtext reflecting the underlying assumptions that imbue the empirical work in the field. I describe each of these in turn, giving some attention to how they are reflected in contemporary family research. I follow with a discussion of several notable, feminist exceptions.

social stratum, we emphasize how individuals within these families relate to each other— parents (mostly mothers) to their children or wives to their husbands—rather than on the structured set of social relations in which people are embedded. For example, although poverty is unevenly distributed across racial-ethnic groups and is also linked to multiple partnerships, far more attention in the literature is given to the “problems” of multiple partnerships for children rather than to how poverty limits relationship options and negatively affects the interactions of people in partnership with each other. Women as Subordinate Family Members

Families as Personal Relationships The emphasis on families as individuals in interaction divorced from the broader sociohistorical context is perhaps best seen in the identification of families as social problems. The assumption underlying this work is that social problems can be resolved if individuals would only behave differently in their interpersonal relationships. Viewing them as relationships divorces families from the structural context in which they are embedded, a context that influences family structure as well as family processes. Family studies is replete with a focus on individuals as both the cause of and the solution for social problems. In JMF, for example, the “problems” of young children who are not doing as well as their peers by conventional metrics of academic performance are laid at the feet of their low-income, unmarried, and often minority mothers. That these women have limited social and personal resources and a truncated, impoverished academic history of their own is rarely mentioned. Similarly, the “acting out” behavior of adolescents is framed as an outcome of “incompetent” or “poor” parenting or of parental conflict, without consideration of the complex and overwhelming set of demands and constraints that individual parents—and couples—face. For example, researchers rarely, if ever, draw attention to the institutionalized racism, sexism, and heterosexism that women and minority parents face every day. A social problems orientation reflects the general view of family scholars; that is, we focus primarily on the individuals and families at the bottom of the social structure rather than on those with privilege (Sprague, 2005). At this

Much of family studies, particularly that focused on children and on marriage, emphasizes women’s roles as wife, mother, and daughter, that is, as nurturer, central to the well-being of others (Stacey & Thorne, 1985). In this view, women’s own needs, desires, and abilities are ignored or, at best, given minimal attention. Missing and so central to a feminist analysis of families (Andersen, 2005) is a focus on power and power relations. As feminists have argued, women’s position inside families reflects the wage gap between women and men outside families as well as inflexible waged labor (Risman, 2004). Family researchers, for example, continue to be preoccupied with the effect of mothers’ employment on their children. Researchers fail to emphasize that employment contributes substantially to women’s well-being. Furthermore, there is limited acknowledgement that, for most families, women’s economic contributions, long essential to minority and working-class families, are now essential to middle-class families as well (White & Rogers, 2000). Women’s struggles to accommodate the demands of the provider role—met primarily through low-wage, inflexible, service-sector employment—in the context of continuing responsibilities for the well-being of other family members—also have received limited attention. An Insular, Ahistorical Approach (i.e., All Families Should Be Compared With Contemporary White, Middle-Class, U.S. Families) As JMF is a U.S. journal, it is not surprising that U.S. families would be positioned front and

2. A Feminist Critique of Family Studies

center. But a focus on White, middle-class, heterosexual U.S. families, without attention to historical, racial-ethnic, and sexual variation, reifies the Standard North American Family (SNAF; Smith, 1993). According to Smith, the SNAF ideological code is the family against which all other families are measured—and judged. Having rejected the avowed objectivity of science, feminists recognize that researchers’ background assumptions are rooted in their values (Sprague, 2005). Feminists know that family is both a practice and an ideology (Barrett & McIntosh, 1982; Thorne, 1982). The ideology of family positions the two-parent, heterosexual, nuclear family as both necessary and essential. By implication, it defines all other families as dysfunctional. It refuses to accept the knowledge of families derived from contemporary research as limited, narrow, and rooted in a specific sociohistorical time and place (Harding, 1998; Hartsock, 1983). It fails to point out White privilege or even to acknowledge that families outside the SNAF code are disproportionately families of color. It ignores the heteronormativity of traditional family science linked to binary systems of gender, (male-female), sexuality (“deviant”-“natural”), and family structure (“genuine”-“pseudo”) (Oswald, Blume, & Marks, 2005). Or recognizing “deviance,” it attributes this “social problem” to individual decisions or, worse, to “flawed” cultural values. Only “the right kind of family” is studied. Or if “deviants” are the focus, they are compared with “the right kind of family” and found to be wanting. One illustration of disproportionate attention to “the right kind of family” is the inordinate focus in the past decade on cohabitation, and particularly to the “effects” of cohabitation on children. At any one time, only 6% of children reside with cohabiting parents (although 40% of children will live in this arrangement at some time; Bumpass & Lu, 2000). In fact, “marriage,” which was implied, should be added specifically to the SNAF criteria (Smith, 1993). In the family literature, cohabitation is nearly always problematized when compared with marriage, the preferred, socially approved, and “appropriate” form of partnership. Few recognize explicitly that marriage seems—and is—less and less available to poor minority women (Edin & Kefalas, 2005). Some societies outside the United States have supported cohabitation; they have, for example, enabled cohabiting-couple families to receive

23

the same benefits as married-couple families. In these societies, cohabiting families do not show the “deficits” evident in families in the United States (see Kiernan, 2004). In the United States, where policy privileges and fosters marriage, cohabiting-couple families begin at a tremendous disadvantage. An emphasis on marriage relative to cohabitation is particularly punitive to minority families, who disproportionately lack the resources and options that foster marital ties. Family scientists contribute to the reification of marriage by comparing cohabiting partnerships with marital partnerships and by comparing parenting in cohabiting with parenting in marital partnerships. Analyses of average differences further situate marriage as the standard of comparison. They fail to attend to distinct causes and consequences of both marriage and cohabitation, as well as to the ranges of relationship quality and parenting evident within each. Another way in which the value of “the right kind of family” is evident is in the attention to single-parent—mostly single-mother—families in the literature, especially single minority mothers. Some national data sets, in fact, disproportionately surveyed poor African American and/or poor Latina single mothers, paying less or only superficial attention to the largest numbers of poor women in the United States: Whites. In fact, race and social class are conflated in this work, perpetuating outmoded ideas about a culture of poverty, which apparently Whites do not have. Traditional family scholars ignore the politics of location. They fail to see the relational aspects of difference and do not see the intersectionality of multiple identities that shapes individual life experience at a given place and time (De Reus, Few, & Blume, 2005). Families Are Characterized by Agreement and Similarity As indicated earlier, power continues to be notable for its absence in family studies. Yet power analysis is the essence of a feminist approach (see DeVault, 1999). The study of power within families enables feminist researchers to position difference in relation to its social value. For example, feminist researchers would (and do) highlight that heterosexual cohabiting relationships are more egalitarian than marital ties. They argue that something about cohabitation is more fair, or, alternatively, something about marriage is less fair, to women (see Brines & Joyner, 1999; Smock,

24

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

2000). Relative to relationship stability and child well-being, however, women’s outcomes are rarely of interest to traditional family scientists. As argued by Smith (1993), the SNAF ideological code means that marital stability and child outcomes always will be of greater importance than women’s outcomes. In the minds—and the studies—of family researchers, families should and do have young children, even though there are comparatively fewer such families in the United States today. After all, this construction of family is what the SNAF is all about. Even when studying disagreement or conflict within couples, researchers do not study power. Instead, disagreement is an independent variable and child outcomes (presumed negative) are dependent variables. And researchers have barely scratched the surface of how reproducing gender within families simultaneously brings women pleasure as well as reinforces their unequal status (e.g., DeVault, 1991; Di Leonardo, 1987; Dressel & Clark, 1990; Risman, 2004). As feminist family researchers, we should turn our attention to ways of bringing women both pleasure and equality within families (Risman).

CONTEMPORARY FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES Fortunately, during my tenure, a number of feminists submitted their careful, revolutionary work to JMF. Having met the standards of the preeminent family journal, it, too, is now part of the family science canon. Margaret Nelson’s (2006) fine qualitative work on single mothers is a stellar example. She positions women front and center in her research question and in her analysis. Drawing specific attention to macroinfluences, she shows the power of the SNAF ideology to influence the thoughts, feelings, and behaviors of White, rural, single mothers, even though a traditional family form “has failed them . . . in the past” (p. 794). She points to recent changes in family structure among the poor as, in part, motivation for her research question. And she focuses specifically on power—on mothers’ power that comes from “being in charge”—that enables them to deny that same power to—or to share that same power with—others such as grandmothers, boyfriends, or nonresidential fathers. Although Cherlin (2006) suggests that the families they create are “non-SNAF-like”

(p. 802) in their inclusion of social rather than biological fathers, Nelson believes otherwise, arguing that women pursue the SNAF as a goal. Lest we think that a qualitative approach is the sine qua non of feminist research (Sprague, 2005), I turn to Yodanis and Lauer’s (2007) research on money management as a compelling example of how cross-national, quantitative, survey methods can be feminist. Arguing that the management of resources within families is an index of marital inequality and using individual-level data, they find that couples with equal contribution of resources tend to share money management and that wives are more likely to have sole responsibility for money management when financial resources in the household are fewer. Of course, fewer resources means more difficulty managing, so it is no surprise that wives are more likely than husbands to have sole responsibility when the funds are insufficient to meet the expenses. Individual beliefs matter as well. When partners value equality in their relationship, husbands are less likely to have the sole control over money and wives are less likely to have the sole responsibility for money management work—that is, to be stuck with the impossible task of managing limited resources. Using context-level data and looking across 21 countries, they also demonstrate that institutionalized (i.e., cultural) beliefs about shared breadwinning are linked to the couple’s shared money management strategies. This finding holds even when earnings are dramatically different between wives and husbands. They draw specific attention to macroinfluences above and beyond individual beliefs and actions “by showing that decisions within marriage are differently shaped according to variation in the institutional arrangements within which couples live and act” (p. 1322). Yodanis and Lauer position women as (potentially) full and equal partners in marriage, drawing specific attention to control of resources as an indicator of power, more power when women themselves contribute more resources and less power when the resources contributed by them are fewer. Also attending to resources, Atkinson, Greenstein, and Lang (2005) illustrate the limitations of resource theory and relative resource theory in the context of social inequality. Using data from the National Survey of Families and Households, they show how a gendered resource theory is the only way to explain the influence of wives’ breadwinning on wife abuse. Because the husband’s income is not associated with the

2. A Feminist Critique of Family Studies

likelihood of husbands abusing their wives, resource theory is not supported. Relative resource theory would suggest that husbands who earn more than their wives would be less likely to perpetrate abuse, but it receives only limited support: Only when husbands have traditional attitudes toward their wives’ employment is the husbands’ relative income associated negatively with the likelihood of wife abuse; that is, resources matter only in the context of traditional attitudes. Gendered resource theory, however, receives the most support: For husbands with egalitarian values, relative income is unrelated to the likelihood of wife abuse. But for husbands with traditional values whose wives earn more than they do, the likelihood of wife abuse is high. In other words, a husband with traditional values whose wife earns more than he does is at risk of abusing his wife. Atkinson and her colleagues point specifically to the structural and cultural conditions that foster the construction of masculinity through wife abuse. In other words, traditional husbands who do not experience a sense of masculinity through their own breadwinning compensate by exerting force over their wives. Finally, in their ethnography of girls’ family labor in low-income, mostly minority households, Lisa Dodson and Jillian Dickert (2004) posit children’s—mostly girls’—family work as a survival strategy used by low-income families to meet family demands; that is, girls become “prime substitute(s) for parents” (p. 328). Dodson and Dickert show how such girls’ family labor differs from children’s chores in nonpoor families as well as how it is mostly done alone or with other children, when parents are not present. Furthermore, they point to the individual and social implications when girls take on adult roles. Rather than focusing on schoolwork and taking advantage of extracurricular opportunities, girls pursue social ties, caregiving, and the management of a household. They become competent in the social areas that foster early partnerships and early childbearing, consequences the authors attribute to welfare reform, which has pushed poor women into low-wage jobs with rigid work schedules. Dodson and Dickert also draw attention to challenges for researchers in the ways families may hide their survival strategies or choose not to report them because they are so mundane. Together, these four examples, and other feminist work that appears in JMF, show how

25

feminist family studies currently exists alongside mainstream family research. That feminist work can be said to meet the standards of the discipline is a victory for feminists. That this scholarship continues to exist in parallel to traditional research, rather than to have changed it, is a challenge to us. It is not enough to publish our work in mainstream journals; nor is it enough for feminists to edit these journals. What is necessary to transform the discipline?

FINAL REFLECTIONS Almost 25 years ago, with Linda Thompson, I asked whether one can be both a feminist and a (family) scientist (Walker & Thompson, 1984). In this chapter, I ask whether one can be true to feminism and also edit a traditional family journal. As in 1984, I answer in the affirmative, but I also acknowledge that contradictions in the structured set of social relations in these two positions of feminist and editor create marked feelings of ambivalence (Connidis & McMullin, 2002). Living with ambivalence is no problem for feminists, however. It is the nature of existence on the margins (Collins, 2000; hooks, 1984). Of the many ways in which feminists can continue to work to change the “natural order” in family science, I once again call attention to subject matter. Feminists long ago called for paying attention to women’s lives (e.g., Thorne, 1982). In my previous work (e.g., Walker, 2000; Walker & Thompson, 1984), I drew attention to subject matter that belongs to family studies and that is ignored too often, subject matter that draws attention to daily life experience and that calls for social change. Of course, many feminists are pursuing such topics diligently and masterfully, as can be seen in the four examples above as well as in works that have become classics in the field (e.g., DeVault, 1991; Hochschild, 1989). Nevertheless, a significant gap remains between the daily experience of family life and the subject matter that occupies the attention of most researchers (Walker). To illustrate this gap, in loose chronological order, I list below a few of the life events I experienced during the 6 years I edited JMF: • Less than a month after I began my editorial term, a brother of mine was a perpetrator in a duck-hunting accident in which he almost killed a man. The “victim”—actually, so many

26

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES family members who were not at the location of the shooting experienced dramatic and life-changing consequences, so there were many “victims”—survived but ended up losing much of his eyesight. (Ironically, my partner and I are birdwatchers.) • My father was diagnosed with bladder cancer, most likely caused by his having handled toxic chemicals during his 25-year employment as a laboratory technician. He was treated with a biological therapy that failed. After consultation with a surgeon and his family members, he had his bladder removed and a new bladder constructed from colon tissue. Six years later (at the age of 82), he is well but was left incontinent by this “new and improved” way of dealing with the loss of a bladder. • My sister, the oldest in a family of six children, disappeared and her body was discovered 36 hours later. She had committed suicide after many years of struggling with mental illness. • After years of debilitating migraines, my lesbian partner, an obstetrician-gynecologist, renegotiated the contract with her physician partners to give up her beloved obstetrics and primary surgery. Doing so would be painful but would enable her to have a relatively normal (7 to 7) workday and to avoid the sleep deprivation that triggered many of her most severe headaches. Although her health and quality of life—and mine—is much improved, she took a nearly 2/3 pay cut to make this change. Together, a physician and a professor lead a privileged life with regard to household income in the United States. Nevertheless, we were forced to manage a dramatic income loss amid expenses—mostly housing—that we incurred when our income was much higher. • At the age of 54, after 8 months of testing and numerous doctor’s appointments, I was diagnosed with an indolent non-Hodgkin lymphoma and successfully treated with radiation. The cancer recurred within 4 months and I filed my last report as editor while undergoing infusion chemotherapy and biological therapy designed to keep this cancer at bay.

As a sister, daughter, partner, and individual, I was negotiating the daily family life experience of adult sibling relationships, life-threatening health crises, aging parents, mental illness, income loss, and chronic illness. Was I reading about these things in manuscripts submitted to JMF? No. Instead, I was reading about the effects

of cohabitation on children’s math scores, the ways in which number and type of marital status transitions affect adolescent externalizing behavior, and how fathers would be more involved with their children if mothers worked harder to foster their involvement. Where were the other issues that family members navigate each and every day? We would know more about families—and about women’s lives in them—if we paid more attention to issues such as these. We would know more if we examined how the tangled web of social class, race-ethnicity, gender, and sexuality are linked to family life experience and to what we choose to study about them. As a feminist, I argue that these structural issues are essential to our life experience. While editing JMF, I was struck by how much of what I read, no matter how interesting, seemed disconnected from my own life as the White daughter of aging, working-class parents; the sister of five (now four) siblings and an aunt to nieces and nephews; and a partner in a longterm dual-career lesbian relationship. The empirical literature also was disconnected from the lives of so many others, lacking as it was in subjectivity, reflexivity, and certainly intersectionality. These were among the very concerns feminists objected to long ago when criticizing the field. Research that makes life experience come alive for the reader, that shows why change is necessary, will have a bigger impact on the field than research that maintains the status quo. It will be among those things cited when future feminists are asked to tell us why they became interested in family studies in the first place (Bertaux & Bertaux-Wiame, 1981). Given our focus on everyday lives and our commitment to social change, feminists are in a better position than anyone to conduct this research. And to see to it that change happens, both in the field and in women’s everyday lives. I am happy to say that 6 years of reading—and publishing—mainstream family research has neither changed my feminist values nor deterred me from my feminist goal of a conscious, inclusive, and liberatory family studies (Allen, 2000).

REFERENCES Allen, K. R. (2000). A conscious and inclusive family studies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 4–17. Andersen, M. L. (2005). Thinking about women: A quarter century’s view. Gender & Society, 19, 437–455.

2. A Feminist Critique of Family Studies Atkinson, M. P., Greenstein, T. N., & Lang, M. M. (2005). For women, breadwinning can be dangerous: Gendered resource theory and wife abuse. Journal of Marriage and Family, 67, 1137–1148. Barrett, M., & McIntosh, M. (1982). The anti-social family. London: Verso. Bertaux, D., & Bertaux-Wiame, I. (1981). Life stories in the bakers’ trade. In D. Bertaux (Ed.), Biography and society (pp. 169–189). Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Brines, J., & Joyner, K. (1999). The ties that bind: Principles of cohesion in cohabitation and marriage. American Sociological Review, 64, 333–355. Bumpass, L., & Lu, H. H. (2000). Trends in cohabitation and implications for children’s family contexts. Population Studies, 54, 29–41. Cherlin, A. J. (2006). On single mothers “doing” family. Journal of Marriage and Family, 68, 800–803. Collins, P. H. (2000). Black feminist thought: Knowledge, consciousness, and the politics of empowerment (2nd ed.). New York: Routledge. Connidis, I. A., & McMullin, J. A. (2002). Sociological ambivalence and family ties: A critical perspective. Journal of Marriage and Family, 64, 558–567. De Reus, L. A., Few, A. L., & Blume, L. B. (2005). Multicultural and critical race feminisms: Theorizing families in the third wave. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. DilworthAnderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory & research (pp. 447–460). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. DeVault, M. L. (1991). Feeding the family: The social organization of caring as gendered work. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. DeVault, M. L. (1999). Liberating method: Feminism and social research. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Di Leonardo, M. (1987). The female world of cards and holidays: Women, families and the work of kinship. Signs, 12, 440–453. Dodson, L., & Dickert, J. (2004). Girls’ family labor in low-income households: A decade of qualitative research. Journal of Marriage and Family, 66, 318–332. Dressel, P. L., & Clark, A. (1990). A critical look at family care. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 52, 769–782. Edin, K., & Kefalas, M. (2005). Why poor women put motherhood before marriage. Berkeley: University of California Press. Harding, S. (1998). Is science multicultural? Postcolonialisms, feminisms, and epistemologies. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Hartsock, N. C. (1983). Money, sex, and power: Toward a feminist historical materialism. New York: Longman. Hochschild, A. (with Machung, A.). (1989). The second shift: Working parents and the revolution at home. New York: Viking.

27

hooks, b. (1984). Feminist theory: From margin to center. Boston: South End Press. Kiernan, K. (2004). Redrawing the boundaries of marriage. Journal of Marriage and Family, 66, 980–987. Nelson, M. K. (2006). Single mothers “do” family. Journal of Marriage and Family, 68, 781–795. Osmond, M. W. (1987). Radical-critical theories. In M. B. Sussman & S. K. Steinmetz (Eds.), Handbook of marriage and the family (pp. 103–124). New York: Plenum Press. Oswald, R. F., Blume, L. B., & Marks, S. R. (2005). Decentering heteronormativity: A model for family studies. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. Dilworth-Anderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory & research (pp. 143–154). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Risman, B. J. (2004). Gender as a social structure: Theory wrestling with activism. Gender & Society, 18, 429–450. Safilios-Rothschild, C. (1970). The study of family power structure: A review 1960–1969. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 32, 539–552. Smith, D. E. (1993). The Standard North American Family: SNAF as an ideological code. Journal of Family Issues, 14, 50–65. Smock, P. J. (2000). Cohabitation in the United States: An appraisal of research themes, findings, and implications. Annual Review of Sociology, 26, 1–20. Sprague, J. (2005). Feminist methodologies for critical researchers: Bridging differences. Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press. Stacey, J. (2004). Marital suitors court social science spinsters: The unwittingly conservative effects of public sociology. Social Problems, 51, 131–145. Stacey, J., & Thorne, B. (1985). The missing feminist revolution in sociology. Social Problems, 32, 301–316. Thorne, B. (1982). Feminist rethinking of the family: An overview. In B. Thorne (with M. Yalom) (Ed.), Rethinking the family: Some feminist questions (pp. 1–24). New York: Longman. Walker, A. J. (2000). Refracted knowledge: Viewing families through the prism of social science. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 595–608. Walker, A. J., & Thompson, L. (1984). Feminism and family studies. Journal of Family Issues, 5, 545–570. White, L., & Rogers, S. J. (2000). Economic circumstances and family outcomes: A review of the 1990s. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 1035–1051. Yodanis, C., & Lauer, S. (2007). Managing money in marriage: Multilevel and cross-national effects of the breadwinner role. Journal of Marriage and Family, 69, 1307–1325.

3 THEORIZING WITH RACIAL-ETHNIC FEMINISMS IN FAMILY STUDIES A PRIL L. F EW

I

n this chapter, I address epistemological commonalities of racial-ethnic feminisms, the advantages and challenges of using such theories in family studies, and the process of theorizing with racial-ethnic feminisms in research. I use the term racial-ethnic feminisms to emphasize that these individual bodies of literature and activism emerged from sociohistorical experiences unique to individual racial and ethnic groups. Accordingly, I propose that for racial-ethnic feminisms, the constructions of race and ethnicity are the primary organizing concepts from which every other social location intersects and is inextricably tied. Additionally, the term racial-ethnic feminisms is used to acknowledge racial-ethnic feminists’ break from Eurocentric feminist groups who have marginalized or excluded minority racialethnic women (and their accomplishments) in academic and social movement settings (Alexander & Mohanty, 1997; Arredondo, Hurtado, Klahn, Nájera-Ramírez, & Zavella, 2003; Hamer & Neville, 1998; hooks, 1984; Mansbridge & Smith, 2000; Shah, 1997) and from second-wave Eurocentric feminist theories, which underemphasize a critical analysis of the complexity of race and ethnicity within matrixes of domination (Collins, 1991). This marginalization of 28

racial-ethnic feminist scholars and activists today has deep historical roots, reflecting tensions between White and racial-ethnic women as White women have struggled for equality with (White) men. For example, the suffragists (e.g., Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton) refused to allow Black women to march beside them at political rallies such as Seneca Falls. Likewise, Margaret Sanger, an American birth control activist, declined to include in dialogues and debates the health needs of racial-ethnic women. In both cases, the suffragists and birth control advocates were fearful that any alignment with Black women would delegitimize the movements and distract White men or allies from their goal, the advancement of White women’s rights. Early racial-ethnic women activists often found that advancing their rights and safety best began with organizing with racial-ethnic men to fight race-based injustices (D’Emilio & Freedman, 1997).

COMMONALITIES AND DISTINCTIONS Racial-ethnic feminists seek to analyze the connection between knowledge and power and thus to manifest an ability to reexamine

3. Theorizing With Racial-Ethnic Feminisms in Family Studies

and reconstruct group social relationality or materiality beyond the permeable walls of one’s homeplace (hooks, 1990) and borderlands (Anzaldúa, 1987). Racial-ethnic feminists work to articulate identities within the self as well as the self ’s relationship to others in multiple ways that are meaningful and empowering to the groups of which he or she is a part. As Juana Rodríguez (2003), a queer Latina scholar, noted, “Identity is about situatedness in motion: embodiment and spatiality” (p. 5). Situatedness is positionality, positioning, and différance (Derrida, 1982) between individuals and groups. Identity and situatedness are at the crux of four commonalities among and between multiple racial-ethnic feminisms. The four commonalities include (a) cultural centeredness within a politics of location; (b) intellectual and social advancement and progress; (c) the need for selfreflexivity throughout the research process for the researcher and practitioner; and (d) an ethical engagement with community members or those whom one studies. Distinctions are derived from differences in how groups historically have responded to and resisted colonizing practices and hierarchal divisions of power based on access to valued resources, skin hue, gender, religious affiliation, ability, and sexual orientation. For example, Chicanas’ experiences are deeply rooted in Mexican history, with a legacy of colonialism, brutal violence, and discrimination based on complex class and racial hierarchies. All of this is encountered, internalized, and resisted against a backdrop of Catholicism and language repression, especially toward indigenous peoples (Castañeda, 1993; Gonzalez, 1999). Chicanas’ origin and experience of living in the United States is quite different from that, for example, of African women who were brought involuntarily to this country and who developed different resistance strategies to survive the inhumanity of enslavement and cultural erasure. Cultural Centeredness Black feminism, Chicana feminism, Asian American feminisms, secular Arab and Islamic feminisms, womanism, Africana womanism, Mujerista feminism, Mestiza feminism, Native American feminisms, critical race feminisms, Third World feminisms, and transnational feminisms are oral, verbal, and tangible articulations

29

of how racial-ethnic women scholars describe the everyday negotiation of the politics of location by racial-ethnic women, their families, and their communities (De Reus, Few, & Blume, 2005; Few, 2007a). Politics of location constitute the strategies through which racial-ethnic women claim, reframe, and politicize their specific situatedness in respect to unjust hierarchal social relationality within an intersectionality matrix (Crenshaw, 1993). An intersectionality matrix is “a specific location where multiple systems of oppressions simultaneously corroborate and subjugate in order to conceal deliberate, marginalizing ideological maneuvers that define ‘Otherness’” (Few, 2007a, p. 454). This attention to the interlocking nature of race, ethnicity, gender, class, and sexual orientation over the course of time, generation, and geography is a recurrent theme in the writings of racial-ethnic feminists (see, e.g., Collins, 1991; Davis, 1981; GuySheftall, 1995; hooks, 1984, 1990, 1992; Lorde, 1984; Moraga & Anzaldúa, 1981; Ramos, 1987; Rodríguez, 2003; Smith, 1983). Transnational feminists add the social location of nationhood to the critical analysis of how people move within an intersectionality matrix. Chandra Mohanty (1992) concurs that specific “historical, geographical, cultural, psychic, and imaginative boundaries” (p. 75) influence how individuals and groups define their lived shared and diverse experiences. Transnational feminists address the legacies of colonialism and imperialism through an examination of intersections among nationhood, race, ethnicity, gender, sexuality, and economic exploitation on a global scale (Einstein, 1993; Grewal & Kaplan, 1994; Mohanty, 1992). Alexander and Mohanty (1997) describe three ways that transnational feminist scholarship advances the study of intersectionality and group relations and processes across different cultures and nation-states. A transnational feminist framework provides (a) a way of thinking about women who, in similar situations that vary due to different economic and political circumstances, live in different geographical spaces; (b) an understanding of inequalities among and between peoples; and (c) a postcolonial consideration of the term international in relation to a critical analysis of economic, political, and ideological processes that are rooted in racialized and capitalist discourses.

30

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

Racial-ethnic feminists assert that all racialethnic women have the common experience of negotiating oppression(s) despite occupying different social locations and possessing variable privileges. Racial-ethnic feminists recognize that women and men are tied inextricably to the experience of racism and classism either as survivors or profiteers of discrimination. In other words, there is a recognition that individuals either trade on privileges in different contexts and/or endure subjugation or marginalization by those with more privileges. In their writings, racial-ethnic feminists part from early secondwave Eurocentric feminists, who usually placed all men together as a monolithic group without consideration of how differences in race, ethnicity, class, or sexuality shape masculinities and the lives of individual men (Awkward, 2000). Masculinity is not a fixed construct, although it can acquire specific meanings dependent on the context and one’s positioning (i.e., one’s social location, which is structurally determined within the intersectionality matrix; see Mohanty, Alcoff, Hames-Garcia, & Moya, 2006; Sanchez, 2006, for further distinction between positioning and positionality). Racial-ethnic feminists do not overlook that sexism is a domain that remains to be contested in private and public relationships, at times at great risk to women’s personal safety (Accad, 1991; Arredondo et al., 2003; Badran, 2005; Collins, 1991; Fernea, 1998; Hull, Bell-Scott, & Smith, 1982). Certainly, men and women occupy both similar and different positionings within the intersectionality matrix, and given this, the positionalities of men and women are also often different. Men and women choose to either favor or share those locations that bestow privilege and power. Positionality is one’s interpreted relation or standpoint in relation to one’s positioning or social location. It is the interconnection of positioning and positionality that influences how one interprets perceived and actual lived experience and power in relation to others. This interpretation is always influenced by ideology, particularly capitalist (i.e., economic system in which the means of production are owned by private persons, organized to increase monetary profit), patriarchal (i.e., a social system organized on the basis of gender with a preference for men, who have institutional structures to support their political supremacy over women and children), or heteronormative (i.e., seeing

heterosexuality as normal and natural; for an extensive explanation, see Oswald, Blume, & Marks, 2005) (Sanchez, 2006). Positionality is discursive, meaning that one’s interpretation of positioning is contingent on a reflexive analysis of complementary or antagonistic discourses. Sanchez describes “positionality [as] a useful diagnostic construct [because] it enables one to better examine and understand why individuals sharing a similar or even the same positioning do not live their situation in the same way” (p. 38). Critical realists insist that the dialectic process of positionality leads to identification or disidentification (i.e., the process of distancing oneself from self- or group representations, or an individual’s refusal to accept certain labels affiliated with a specified group). Identities become “socially significant and context-specific ideological constructs . . . that refer in nonarbitrary (if partial) ways to verifiable aspects of the social world” (Moya, 2006, p. 96). The politics of location involve individual and group processes of consciously and subconsciously negotiating identities within an intersectionality matrix (Crenshaw, 1993) as well as an engagement in competing discourses vying for dominance. According to Alcoff (1991), the social location of an individual who speaks or writes determines how discourses are heard and valued; thus, there are discourses bound for marginality. Marginality, however, is not necessarily an imposed existence, but rather a dynamic, multivocal, and transformative space that is self-determined and self-defined in the language and memories of diverse groups (hooks, 1990). Intellectual and Social Advancement A goal of most racial-ethnic feminists is to advance theory about racial-ethnic family processes and the resulting discourses in their communities, academia, and institutions that most affect family outcomes. To fulfill this goal, racial-ethnic feminists engage dominant discourses through knowledge (re)production, language, and consciousness rearticulation (i.e., the process of reconstructing representations of a specific group through a present consciousness of how intersectionality influences choices and behaviors in everyday life; Collins, 1998). The ability to address and eliminate malignant stereotypes or misrepresentations of experience can only be achieved if one participates in the

3. Theorizing With Racial-Ethnic Feminisms in Family Studies

process of creating knowledge about one’s own group. Discursive spaces exist as symbolic sites of knowledge (re)production. While knowledge (re)production is political, manipulated to serve the interests of dominant groups, it is also a significant part of the interplay between dominance and resistance. Knowledge is created by the telling of lived experience in multiple ways (e.g., oratory, journals, songs, art, crafts, and dance) and vetted by scholarly research. Most academic racial-ethnic feminists recognize the symbolic power of language in the development of an individual’s radical subjectivity (hooks, 1990) or tactical subjectivity (Sandoval, 1995), the tools and skills for emancipatory historiography, and the value of voice in intellectual discourses as a viable means for social justice advancement and agency. Emancipatory historiography is a self-reflexive process wherein individuals learn to challenge and deconstruct hegemonic discourses, debunk myths, and (re)connect with different interpretations of individual and group history from the perspective of minority or oppressed groups (Cannon, 1996). In other words, emancipatory historiography occurs when an individual resists dominant narratives about the groups with which she or he is affiliated, choosing to “rewrite” the history of her or his group. For example, Black family scholars took on mainstream family science by rejecting a deficit model of Black family functioning and developing adaptive models to emphasize individual, family, and community resiliencies, changing how family scholars represent racialethnic families in books and in journals. bell hooks (1990) discussed the importance of language as a conduit for a self-defined consciousness as well as for theorizing and documenting the intersections of race, ethnicity, class, gender, sexual orientation, and nationality. She saw language as a place for developing one’s self-defined standpoint as a means of resisting racist, sexist, and homophobic ideologies endemic to systems of domination. Having a self-defined standpoint to enter discourse is an articulation of one’s radical subjectivity, which hooks (1990) described as a process that emerges as an individual or group comes to understand how interlocking structures of domination influence the extent of choices for advancement or resistance. Radical subjectivity is created using the fluid terms, parameters, and locations specified, validated, and lived by racial-ethnic women and the

31

communities of which they are a part (Few, 2007a). Subjectivity also reflects a consciousness of how structural and social constructs influence one’s positioning. Racial-ethnic feminists describe consciousness as always being present within individuals and groups. Collins (1991) argues that consciousness is dynamic; it is “continually evolving and [being] negotiated” (p. 285). A dynamic, racialized, gendered, oppositional consciousness incites emancipatory historiography and a conscious resistance against misrepresentative or oppressive dominant discourses. By engaging in this process, one discursively questions the authority of dominant discourses. For example, Walker’s (1983) definition of womanism played a significant role in consciousness-raising among female seminarians regarding the moral agency of Black women scholars (Few, 2007b). Black womanist theologians sought to clarify womencentered aspects of biblical studies, church history, systematic theology, and social ethics (see, e.g., Cannon, 1988; Townes, 1993). Chicana feminism and Mestiza feminism also provide an example of consciousness rearticulation. Chicana and Mestiza consciousness is expressed through mestizaje, hybridity, and the “borderlands” (Anzaldúa, 1987; Saldívar-Hull, 2000), an examination of the continuum of color, phenotype, and privilege (Hurtado, 1996), as well as oppositional consciousness and practices (Pardo, 1998; Sandoval, 1991), notions of decolonial imagery (Pérez, 1999), and the methodology of the oppressed (Sandoval, 2000). These concepts demonstrate not only a consciousness of resistance to the repression of language and culture but also validation for racial-ethnic women’s (and groups’) claims to agency among competing discourses. Pérez (1991) believes that racial-ethnic women must exist in una lengua y un sitio, a discourse and a social space “that rejects colonial ideology and the byproducts of colonialism and capitalist patriarchy—sexism, racism and homophobia” (p. 161). Chela Sandoval (2000) describes the practice of negotiating “between and amongst” different discourses of identity and resistance as differential consciousness, a subjectivity that is oppositional to hegemonic discourses. By developing a differential consciousness, racial-ethnic feminists participate in discourses on identity and difference. Norma Alarcón (1996) describes how discourses on difference and identity create knowledge about the ways

32

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

groups “speak back” to create new bodies of knowledge. Alarcón writes that “the paradoxes and contradictions between subject positions move the subject to recognize, reorganize, reconstruct, and exploit difference through political resistance and cultural productions in order to reflect the subject-in-process” (p. 138). She asserts that identity is not merely a response to culturally defined differences but is continually engaged in unraveling “paradoxes and contradictions” that inform an individual’s or group’s relationship to others and to discourses that surround them. Alarcón, however, argues that no single label or construct can inscribe completely the historically marginalized subject. This rearticulation of the interdependence of thought, consciousness, and action is a constant dialogic process that is ceaseless and never completed (Collins, 1998). A common goal for all racial-ethnic feminists is to deconstruct and invalidate deleterious images of racial-ethnic women, families, and communities by reconstructing “ways of knowing” and imagery that are constituted of all possible partial truths lived by these groups in this diverse social world. In summary, discourse is discursive space where what is known about groups and social materiality is contested, interrogated, legitimized, and marginalized. Critical race feminist theorists argue that a minority status presumes the competence of minority writers and theorists to speak about race, ethnicity, and the experiences of multiple oppressions without essentializing those experiences. Dialogically and dialectically, the “master’s tools” (Lorde, 1993) are challenged when marginalized individuals and groups deploy differential consciousness in the pursuit of intellectual emancipation and advancement. When Audre Lorde speaks of the “master tools,” she warns against using the same systematic methods of discrimination that constrict accessibility to resources and power. Need for Self-Reflexivity in the Research Process Among the tenets of most racial-ethnic feminisms is the call for researchers and practitioners to be self-reflexive about decisions made throughout the research process as well as for the research to be beneficial to those families and communities studied. Collins (1991) describes

racial-ethnic feminist intellectuals and activists as the ones who think reflexively and publicly about their own lived experiences within the context of larger social issues. Researchers should be praxis-oriented or critically oriented in ferreting out the processes of oppression or misrepresentation. Kincheloe and McLauren (1994) outline assumptions that capture the methodological lens used by racial-ethnic feminists. Essentially, Kincheloe and McLauren define a critical theorist or researcher as one who acknowledges that all thought is fundamentally mediated by power relations that are social and historically constituted; that facts can never be isolated from the domain of values or removed from some sort of ideological inscription; that the relationship between concept and the object and between signifier and the signified is never stable nor fixed (pp. 139–140). Critical theorists and researchers also recognize that social organization of groups is arranged hierarchally and that mainstream research practices often reproduce systems of class, race, and gender oppressions.

Racial-ethnic feminists are often studying themselves through the process of researching the lives of others, especially when they share commonalities with their participants. Katherine Allen, a family studies postmodernist feminist, discusses inserting the self into the research process “to explicitly name our assumptions, standpoints, and biases and to grapple with their inconsistencies, their ambiguities, and their effect on others” (2000, p. 8). Active self-reflexivity should occur as research designs, methodologies, sensitizing concepts, theoretical memos, measurements, statistical tests, and coding schemes are developed and selected to interpret phenomena and the lived experiences of a group. Engagement With Community Racial-ethnic feminists and activists have historically engaged their communities in two ways: (a) by organizing on behalf of their communities and/or building coalitions with other racial-ethnic groups for social justice and (b) by developing research methodologies that are inclusive of their participants’ voices and engaging in

3. Theorizing With Racial-Ethnic Feminisms in Family Studies

participatory action research (PAR). Two pivotal and early examples of organizing are those that arose in the 1970s—the National Black Feminist Organization (NBFO) and the Combahee River Collective. The NBFO, the first explicitly Black feminist organization in the United States, was founded in 1973. In 1975, female activists tied to the Civil Rights Movement, Black nationalism, or the Black Panther Party established the Combahee River Collective (Combahee River Collective, 2000). Both groups rejected essentialization, biologization (i.e., racial and gender discrimination based on genetic and phenotypic traits), and separatism from men and heterosexuals (e.g., lesbian separatism), focusing rather on political and economic analysis of various forms of domination. It is also a goal of racial-ethnic feminists to make research practical, accessible, and empowering for the informant, the researcher-practitioner, and the communities of which both are a part (Collins, 1991). Feminist research connects knowledge, consciousness, and empowerment and validates experience in the form of an authoritative standpoint. At times, empowerment can lead to social or paradigmatic change for individuals and community. Few, Stephens, and Rouse-Arnett (2003) state that empowering women and groups requires a contextualized understanding of power in three dimensions: (a) personal power (i.e., experiencing oneself as an agent of change with the personal capability to effect change); (b) interpersonal power (i.e., having influence over others because of one’s social location, interpersonal skills, or credibility); and (c) political power (i.e., effectively utilizing formal and informal means to allocate resources in an organization or community). (p. 206)

Gutiérrez and Lewis (1999) describe theoretical concepts and specific techniques for their empowerment approach to be used by social workers who work with communities of color. They recommend using client education, participatory practice processes, and a strengthsfocused approach based on client and community informal and formal resources. Racial-ethnic feminists have an activist-centered obligation not to “hit and run” a community without disseminating knowledge learned from participants, or policy recommendations, back to the community.

33

THE PLACE OF RACIAL-ETHNIC FEMINISMS IN FAMILY STUDIES The family is the primary site for the racial socialization of children (Demo & Hughes, 1990; Peters, 1985) and socialization of gender identity (Baca Zinn, 1994). For this reason, family scholars have focused on the extent to which racial-ethnic families have performed traditional gender norms, as defined by both mainstream and minority discourses, and have used those norms to organize family responsibilities and to socialize children (Dilworth-Anderson, Burton, & Johnson, 1993). In two decade reviews of Black family scholarship, Taylor, Chatters, Tucker, and Lewis (1990) and McLoyd, Cauce, Takeuchi, and Wilson (2000) emphasized the importance of examining all social locations of intersectionality in the interpretation of research findings on topics from marital and parenting socialization to family therapy interventions. By using the lens of racial-ethnic feminisms, “cultural outsiders” are able to make critical interpretive jumps in their examination of others who do not share the individual researcher-practitioner’s experience or the groups with which the researcher-practitioner is affiliated. The researcher-practitioner must take care not to claim epistemological appropriation but be explicit in her or his integration of critical, racial-ethnic theories. The integration of racial-ethnic feminisms brings both advantages and disadvantages to family scholars. In a previous article, I outlined my evaluation of the utility of Black feminism and critical race feminist theories (Few, 2007a). I borrow from that article here because there are commonalities in how racial-ethnic feminisms are approached and used in research. What is unique in this section is how the constructs of race and ethnicity are problematized now for family scholars who want to use these theories. Advantages of Using Racial-Ethnic Feminist Theories Centering Participant Experience One advantage that racial-ethnic feminisms bring to family research is a context to center authentic voices or standpoints through the

34

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

process of contextual critical thinking. Sudbury (1998) urges researchers to focus on “the specificities of the ‘partial story’ [in order not to lose] sight of the macro structures which locate and illuminate those details” (p. 32). Racial-ethnic feminists accept that social science is not objective and that the “truth” of experience is multiple, contingent, partial, and situated. When researchers are mindful of the politics of location in participants’ lives, emergent mediating and moderating variables not likely to be captured fully by surveys or Likert scale measures can be recognized and examined closely. In PAR, participants, community members, and stakeholders may help in the construction of interview protocols and surveys, as intermediaries, and in the identification of community problems or needs (Gutiérrez & Lewis, 1999; Small & Uttal, 2005). In action-oriented research, collaborative interpretation of lived experience with participants leads to the coproduction and dissemination of knowledge (Small & Uttal). Compatibility With Family Theories Racial-ethnic feminisms can be used with several family theories, including stress and coping theories, symbolic interactionism, conflict theories, and ecological theories. DilworthAnderson and colleagues (1993) suggested three perspectives—life course theory, family stress theory, and feminist theories—in which a racial-ethnic theoretical framework can be integrated into family studies research. They discussed how these specific family theories allow researchers to incorporate culturally sensitive (e.g., Afrocentric) definitions of family role transitions, family norm transmission, stress, resources, coping strategies, and ideologies. For example, in a symbolic interactionist framework, individuals are pragmatic actors who are active, creative informants who construct or make sense of their social world through the use of symbols (e.g., language) and the processing of interactions with others and the environment (Mead, 1934). Racial-ethnic feminist scholars recognize that human action and interpretations are considered historical byproducts of collective experience. Using a critical lens, researchers are able to scrutinize both the subjective world of participants and the normative gaze, the symbolic context for reproduction of

racism, sexism, classism, heteronormativity, and Eurocentrism (West, 1982). Culturally Sensitive Intervention Approaches Racial-ethnic feminist theories are particularly helpful in developing interventions or prevention strategies that are culturally accessible or relevant to targeted informants or communities. An example is the use of African American female sexual scripts in sex education programs and policies that target African American youth and communities. Other examples come from Daneshpour (1998, 2004); in her practice, she recognized that using Eurocentric marriage and family therapy models to treat Muslim American families was often inconsistent with Muslim family values—a preference for high connectedness, a hierarchal family structure based on religious practices, and a more implicit communication style to demonstrate deference and respect. Daneshpour integrates a postmodern Muslim feminist framework into the mainstream therapy models that she was trained to use in the United States. Programs seeking to encourage changes in individuals, families, and communities that are not inclusive of the unique cultural norms and values that have influenced socialization processes are most likely to fail or be rejected. Culturally Sensitive Family Policy Approaches Given its birthplace in legal studies and law, critical race feminism may offer to family scholars a “marriage” of family studies methods with methods typically used by law scholars. Using a critical race feminist theoretical framework, family scholars can incorporate the evolution of a specific law(s) in their contextualization of the impact of policy decisions on racial-ethnic families and communities. Many critical race feminists use case studies, textual analysis of legislation, autobiographies, and biographies to examine how institutional structures and oppositional political groups (e.g., unions, advocacy groups) interact and influence outcomes for communities (e.g., education, public health) and vulnerable families (e.g., families with incarcerated members, families with addiction and mental health issues, impoverished families, immigrant families) (see, e.g., Wing, 1997, 2000).

3. Theorizing With Racial-Ethnic Feminisms in Family Studies

Active Self-Reflexivity Throughout the Research Process Racial-ethnic feminisms require family researcher-practitioners to identify culturally relevant concepts, assumptions, and orientations attributed to and expressed by specific racial-ethnic groups in their quantitative and qualitative research. Adapting racial-ethnic feminist theories challenges researchers to be reflexive about why they participate in the process (e.g., for what means and gains) and about the ways they are exploitive versus fostering emancipation for their participants. Before embarking on the research process, a researcherpractitioner should ask why he or she selects certain groups to study. If we are “cultural outsiders,” then what are our motivations for studying certain groups? Motivations may be governed by the desire to change, to empower, to satisfy intellectual curiosity, or to perpetuate mainstream theories. Researchers make choices in filtering, editing, and representing the stories gathered from surveys or interviews. Being a member of the racial/ethnic group that one is studying does not mean that one should skip asking oneself the same questions about personal motivations. Few et al. (2003) argued that insider status should not be automatically assumed by “cultural insider” researchers due to the fact that there are often differences in social locations between researcherpractitioners and participants. Choices made throughout the research process are political, and as disseminators of written experience, there is an obligation of personal accountability toward those studied (Collins, 1991). Challenges of Using Racial-Ethnic Feminist Theories Difficulty in Operationalizing Concepts Pioneering feminist family scholars have successfully integrated feminism into family studies despite critiques that feminism is a theory that cannot be operationalized empirically (Baber & Allen, 1992; Ferree, 1990; Thompson & Walker, 1995). Critics ask questions such as, how does one measure a race consciousness, a feminist consciousness, emancipatory historiography, or empowerment, which are all key tenets of these theories. Cook (1989) and Conover (1988) developed feminist consciousness measures, but

35

these measures tapped feminist concerns of primarily White, middle-class women. Gurin (1985) defined a race consciousness as having four components: (a) race identification (i.e., sense of belonging or closeness to a particular group); (b) power discontent (i.e., recognition of and disenchantment with the lack of a privileged status or status deprivation of one’s racial group); (c) system blame (i.e., awareness that structural barriers, rather than personal failings, account for the minority status or lack of privileges as compared with other groups); and (d) collective action orientation (i.e., commitment to group strategies in confronting racism). Kalmuss, Gurin, and Thompson (1981) operationalized a feminist consciousness as being composed of five elements: (a) polar affect (i.e., demonstration of affinity or warmness toward a particular group—men or women); (b) power discontent (i.e., belief that women have too little influence relative to men); (c) legitimacy of sex differential in status (i.e., extent that one believes in inequities in the social system or personal shortcomings of women); (d) nontraditional role orientation; and (e) advocacy of collective action on behalf of women (i.e., extent that one believes individual and/or group action can resolve social problems). HendersonKing and Stewart (1997) used several measures of group consciousness subscales to capture a feminist consciousness: group evaluations, political beliefs about gender relations, and a sensitivity to sexism. My point here is that these various definitions of consciousness indicate the difficulty in operationalizing a concept that is so complex and unknowable. A further critique is whether or not a participant agrees with survey results. For example, just because one may be measured as having a strong race consciousness and/or a strong feminist consciousness, one would not necessarily claim those labels. Researchers have not been consistent in defining the complex concepts of racial and ethnic identity (Chávez & Guido-DiBrito, 1999). Race has been defined as both a biological category (Spickard, 1992) and a social construction (Helms, 1995). Today, racial identity is discussed as a social construction that “refers to a sense of group or collective identity based on one’s perception that he or she shares a common heritage with a particular racial group” (Helms, 1993, p. 3). Ethnic identity describes an individual’s identification with

36

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES a segment of a larger society whose members are thought, by themselves or others, to have a common origin and share segments of a common culture and who, in addition, participate in shared activities in which the common origin and culture are significant ingredients. (Yinger, 1976, p. 200)

Racial and ethnic identity models provide a theoretical structure for understanding individuals’ negotiation of their own and other cultures (Phinney, 1996). What makes it so difficult for researchers to conceptualize the meanings that race and ethnicity have for individuals is the variety of responses that individuals have in describing their own racial or ethnic derivations. For instance, individuals can feel either prideful or conflicted about being multiracial or multiethnic. Some biracial or multiethnic individuals may feel a strong identification with an affiliated racial-ethnic group and want to distance themselves from another affiliated racialethnic group (Chávez & Guido-DiBrito, 1999). Some researchers recommend that the best way to capture the meanings that individuals assign to racial or ethnic categories is through qualitative research (e.g., interviewing or open-ended questionnaires); this methodology, however, may be deemed by some as too time-consuming or difficult to get consensus in coding (Chávez & GuidoDiBrito). Two possible recommendations for those who wish to use quantitative measures with individuals or groups is to review racialethnic/multiracial-multiethnic identity models and data from focus groups as guides in developing constructs and instrument items. Difficulty in Predicting Behavioral Outcomes Another critique of using racial-ethnic feminist theories is how researchers are to account for behavioral outcomes for targeted groups. Simply put, causation and effects of specific individual behaviors cannot be predicted by these theories. However, these theories provide a context for an individual’s or group’s behaviors or parameters of possible choices based on the historical social locations of individuals and groups. It is important to note that these theories reject the notion of universal laws of behavior, favoring idiosyncratic approaches by focusing on individual and group functioning, goals, and meaning within raced, classed, and gendered realities. (Few, 2007a, p. 466)

Racial-ethnic feminist theories should be used to accompany and broaden the explanatory power of traditional family theories. These theories give us a different language to express and talk about difference, commonalities, and lived experience. This integration should be seen as an additional tool to be used in traditional family science.

LINKING RACIAL-ETHNIC FEMINIST THEORIES TO FAMILY SCIENCE RESEARCH DESIGN In learning how to integrate racial-ethnic theories into family science research, it is important for family researchers to contemplate the connection between theory and research design. In this section, I first discuss the politics of science and the relationship that theory has to science. Next, I consider how racial-ethnic feminist and mainstream feminist theories have been treated by the conveyers of family science, family studies journals. In doing so, I illustrate a gap in family studies where racial-ethnic feminist theories could be useful to family studies scholars. Finally, I conclude with recommendations, discussion questions, and family studies examples for readers to contemplate as they (re)invent their identities as interdisciplinary family studies researchers. This exercise is purposeful in that I further illustrate how to tap into the ideas and tenets of racial-ethnic feminisms presented earlier. Science is political, an ongoing competition to establish dominant paradigms and to have those paradigms become the barometer of knowledge for a discipline (Kuhn, 1970). Science consists of ideas, data, and relationships between them. At the heart of our scientific research is theory. White and Klein (2008) describe theory as existing in the realm of ideas, while research (methodologies and methods) exists in the realm of data. Traditionally, for knowledge to be considered scientific, researchers must be able to explain empirical observations by ideas or theory. Doherty, Boss, LaRossa, Schumm, and Steinmetz (1993), however, describe theorizing as “the process of systematically formulating and organizing ideas to understand a particular phenomenon [; a] theory is the set of interconnected ideas that emerge from this process” (p. 20). An important observation to make about these definitions is that theory serves two purposes—(a) to

3. Theorizing With Racial-Ethnic Feminisms in Family Studies

explain and (b) to understand phenomenon. Theory is not always about proving causality. Racial-ethnic feminist theories do not seek to prove causality. They can, however, provide a sociohistorical context for the interrelationship between ideas, which are value laden and representative of our biased epistemological standpoints, and data, a reflection of the questions that we can imagine to ask and the methods we prefer to use. In reviewing several articles about racialethnic families and women that have been published in family studies journals—Journal of Marriage and Family, Family Relations, Journal of Family Issues, Journal of Marriage and Family Therapy, and Journal of Comparative Family Studies—one finds that researchers rarely name racial-ethnic feminist theories as a theoretical framework for the interpretation of their results. Instead of claiming to use a racial-ethnic lens to examine individual, family, and community processes, the words culture, cultural factors, cultural perspectives, and cultural context are presented. In fact, in the discussion section, one finds speculations about individual, family, and community behaviors that are made as if there was not a rich history of feminist and ethnic literature to tap, contextualize, and substantiate hypotheses. A presentation of cultural influences, that is, historical events, cultural values or rituals, gender inequalities, and economic conditions, is not the same as conducting or presenting an intersectional analysis of how social locations—race, ethnicity, gender, class, sexuality, ability, religion, and nationality—interact with and are influenced by institutional structures, including the family. For example, as Black British sociologist Paul Gilroy (1987) noted, Race differences are displayed in culture which is reproduced in educational institutions and, above all, in family life. Families are not only the nation in microcosm, its key components, but act as the means to turn social processes into natural, instinctive ones. (p. 43)

The family, as a social institution, and even as an ideology, is central in shaping racialized, gendered, and sexual meanings and practices. The family is where we learn how to think of ourselves and others, form expectations of privileges or oppression, and behave in specific contexts. Racial-ethnic feminists place all family processes under a magnifying glass.

37

The common practice of family researchers is to list trends common to specific groups. Merely stating a trend such as “middle-class educated Black women are more likely to marry for the first time after the age of 35” does not allow us to understand or historicize their choices, opportunities, and rationalizations for why this phenomenon happens in this specific group of women. Racial-ethnic feminist theories allow researchers to cast a larger net to capture experience in such a way as to transcend time, geography, and the individual. Racial-ethnic feminists theories chronicle collective lived experiences through case studies, autobiographies, biographies, journals, art, film, crafts (e.g., quilts, rugs, samplers, pottery), poetry, music, and folklore (Anzaldúa, 1990; Bell-Scott, 1994; García, 1997; Moraga & Anzaldúa, 1981; Sellers, 2008; Wing, 1997). The majority of the listed items above are valid nontraditional sources that can be used as data points in triangulation methods. For example, in addition to reviewing Black family scholarship, Marks and colleagues (2008) relied on a variety of ethnographic data on Black marriage and marital desire to conduct their qualitative study on marital happiness and satisfaction among contemporary Black couples today. Racial-ethnic feminist theories can help us to begin to understand why there is so much variation in family relationships and provide some anecdotal evidence for emergent concepts/variables from our data and multilevel analyses. Another possible explanation for the exclusion of racial-ethnic feminist theories in family studies is the “disappearing acts” of theory in published articles. Taylor and Bagdi (2005) conducted an analysis of how explicit researchers were in naming the theoretical frameworks used in empirical articles published in the Journal of Marriage and the Family from 1990 to 1999. They found that in 265 of 673 published articles (39%), researchers did not reference traditional family theories. Taylor and Bagdi also found that feminist and cultural theories were only cited in 11 of 673 articles each, or 1.6% respectively. Qualitative researchers were more frequently explicit in naming theories that they used. This study indicates a need to examine why linking theory to research is sometimes not a priority for researchers. This finding does not bode well for racial and ethnic groups, or any groups who are different from the typical samples (e.g., White middle-class samples, an overrepresentation of low-income racial-ethnic

38

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

families), because underdeveloped theories lead to repetitive misrepresentation of group experience and/or undercover theorizing (Sprey, 1988). Since theory is inextricably connected to research, it is necessary for family studies researchers to think about the multiple ways one uses theory in research. I argue that using racialethnic feminisms is critical to the study of racialethnic families and indeed to the study of majority families. I present six research steps to demonstrate how a family studies researcher should use racial-ethnic feminist theories throughout the research process. It is my hope that the questions and recommendations offered in each step be considered by present and future family studies researchers, mentors, and mentees. Step 1: Identification of a Phenomenon to Investigate In this stage of developing a research project, family studies researchers should be versed in the history of the group(s) that they want to study. Also, family studies researchers should be aware of how the social locations of individuals or the group influence their interactions with others within and outside the group and with institutional structures. It is also at this point that a researcher should question why it is important for her or him to study this specific group. Questions to consider include the following: (a) What is it about this group and the group’s experiences that fuels a passion to learn more about this group? (b) Is there a conscious or subconscious intention to play the role of “savior,”“missionary,” or “counselor” to vulnerable participants? (c) Is there an intention to learn more about myself through the study of others? (d) Should cultural outsiders investigate the lives of others? (e) And if a cultural outsider decides that she or he should, what obligations does one owe the community in return for gaining insider status? (f) How am I accountable? (g) What are the consequences of doing comparative group studies? and (h) Is it a more valid and scientific endeavor to conduct comparative studies on racial and ethnic groups? Step 2: Integration of Racial-Ethnic Feminist Theories as a Guiding Framework for Contextualization and Data Interpretation Racial-ethnic feminisms are compatible with any traditional family theories. Often, family

researchers will use the works of racial-ethnic feminisms to contextualize behavioral responses of individuals and groups. In some cases, knowledge produced by racial-ethnic feminist scholars is included in a discussion of the “cultural milieu” or “cultural context” of the phenomenon. Family studies researchers who are concerned with centering the voices of participants will choose theories through which the articulation of racial-ethnic experience is validated to accompany traditional theories. Questions to ask oneself may include the following: (a) How is racial-ethnic feminist theory compatible with the traditional family studies theory/theories that one selects? (b) Are there any examples of family studies scholars using racial-ethnic feminist theories as a guide? (c) What factors (e.g., economic conditions, legislation, health policies, poverty, or violence) that are informed by racialethnic feminist theories must I include in the research design? and (d) Is the purpose of my research to predict behavior or to describe cultural or political phenomena occurring at the individual, couple, family, or community level(s)? Racial-ethnic feminist scholars argue that to increase the likelihood of interpreting and (re)presenting data in a way that is recognizable and accessible to not only other researchers but also the group studied, family studies researchers should incorporate racial-ethnic scholarship that is sensitive to the politics of location. Step 3: Construction of a Research Design Choosing a methodology and methods is an important primary task of designing research. Family studies researchers should ask themselves questions such as the following: (a) Will a quantitative or a qualitative methodological approach help me examine all imagined variables relevant to this group’s experience? (b) Does a mixed-methods approach have the best promise of capturing multiple partial truths? (c) Do I want to personally interact with participants or tap into a national database to examine the diversity of experiences within and across groups? and (d) To what extent do I want to integrate participant feedback on interview protocols, survey-item construction, and oral and written translations of transcripts, questionnaires, and live participant responses? Although racial-ethnic feminist scholars choose different methodologies to investigate phenomena, they commonly use methods that require a

3. Theorizing With Racial-Ethnic Feminisms in Family Studies

preference for a more intimate engagement with participants (e.g., PAR, action-oriented research). Step 4: Development of Research Questions Before developing research questions, one conducts an interdisciplinary review of the extant literature. Racial-ethnic feminist theories can help family researchers to identify, narrow down, and reconfirm important relevant sensitizing concepts or topics for survey items that should be included in the research method. A question to ask may be whether or not racial-ethnic scholarship demonstrates an effort by scholars to (re)interrogate the veracity, breadth, and depth of knowledge built on diverse racial-ethnic group experiences. Is what we think we know all that there is to know? For example, a family researcher observes in the literature that community mothers and other mothers (Collins, 1991) have been credited and discredited as significant informal (intergenerational) social support resources for Black families. Such an observation can inspire family researchers to ask different research questions about this informal support among Black families. For example, McDonald and Armstrong (2001) decided to test the extent to which midlife mothers and elderly kin provided support to teen mothers on welfare. They found that teen mothers had contradictory answers about the types of kinship support that they received. Maternal assistance was given to and also withdrawn from teen mothers. Teen mothers were both embittered yet sympathetic to their mothers, who withdrew support to preserve their own livelihoods in an impoverished environment. In this case, racial-ethnic (feminist) scholarship helped raise questions in the minds of family researchers to pursue contemporary truths about kinship embeddedness in Black families. Step 5: Constitution of the Research Team Decisions on who should be included on a research team are always political. Questions to consider include the following: (a) Are there benefits for a family researcher to coinvestigate with colleagues who are cultural insiders? (b) Does such a decision grant authenticity of belongingness or insider status? and (c) Should family researchers be matched by race, ethnicity,

39

gender, ability, and sexual orientation with participants? Feminist researchers have debated this question for more than 20 years. Symbolic interactionists would probably argue that the outcomes of matching could provide a variety of results and that those outcomes depend on many things. Participants could grant insider status and provide more data to a researcher of the same ethnicity and gender than to a researcher who is ethnically different—or not. Racial-ethnic feminists would advocate building genuine rapport and demonstrating a commitment to resolving a group’s needs or educating members of the group. Step 6: Reflection on the Process and Presentation of the Data At this point, a family researcher should still be self-reflexive about her or his decisions throughout the research process. Racial-ethnic feminist theories compel a family researcher to ask how positionalities and subjectivities and their meanings change over time in response to the research process. I am reminded of an old African saying: “When you are preparing for a journey, you own the journey. Once you are on the journey, the journey owns you.” Three questions to ask oneself at this step are (a) How does the research process, specifically the findings, change or reaffirm my hypotheses, values, worldview, and beliefs about a specific studied group—and/or myself? (b) In what ways do I engage systems or issues of power, privilege, dominance, and marginality between myself and participants over the course of time? and (c) How does a family studies researcher incorporate this change or “awakening” in the work and in the presentation of findings? In other words, how does reflection on these issues inform, challenge and change one’s research and its outcomes? The outlined steps above should compel family researchers to consider carefully the dynamic positionalities and positioning of themselves and research participants. These steps additionally engage family researchers to contemplate the complexity of power and privilege experienced throughout the research process. As one discusses these questions with other family researchers and peers, one may acknowledge the intimate feeling of connectedness to research, to people, to purpose, and to ourselves that all feminist theoretical perspectives encourage.

40

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

CONCLUDING THOUGHTS In conclusion, racial-ethnic feminist theories illuminate the multiple experiences, discourses, and cultural values of diverse racial-ethnic populations. I have used the term racial-ethnic feminisms to emphasize a multidisciplinary perspective where race and ethnicity are the primary organizing concepts from which every other social location intersects. The term racialethnic feminisms does not imply a monolithic group, for racial-ethnic groups own different histories based on (a) a racialized, gendered, and classed politics of location and (b) a group’s success in both discrediting oppressive discourses and rearticulating an empowering group consciousness. The tenets of most racial-ethnic feminisms include the exercise of self-reflexivity in theorizing, research, and praxis, thus extending questions of identity, subjectivity, and positioning beyond those studied to the very nose of the scholar-researcher-practitioner-activist who claims a feminist/womanist identity (see Lewis, this volume). The self-reflexive questions are included here to stimulate innovative and creative research approaches that are sensitive to intersectionality, are capable of casting a greater net to capture “authentic” snapshots of diverse life experiences, and are participatory to incite meaningful change for the better. In sum, racialethnic feminist theories connect individuals to families, communities, institutions, geography, religions, and the academy, with an undeterred goal to provide social justice, centeredness of voice, and empowerment for all.

REFERENCES Accad, E. (1991). Sexuality and sexual politics: Conflicts and contradictions for contemporary women in the Middle East. In C. T. Mohanty, A. Russo, & L. Torres (Eds.), Third World women and the politics of feminism (pp. 237–250). Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Alarcón, N. (1996). Conjugating subjects in the age of multiculturalism. In A. F. Gordon & C. Newfield (Eds.), Mapping multiculturalism (pp. 127–148). Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Alcoff, L. (1991, Winter). The problem of speaking for others. Cultural Critique, 20, 22–23, 32. Alexander, M. J., & Mohanty, C. T. (Eds.). (1997). Feminist genealogies, colonial legacies, democratic futures. New York: Routledge. Allen, K. R. (2000). A conscious and inclusive family studies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 4–17. Anzaldúa, G. (1987). Borderlands/La frontera: The new Mestiza. San Francisco: Spinsters/Aunt Lute Press.

Anzaldúa, G. (1990). Haciendo caras/making face, making soul: Creative and critical perspectives by women of color. San Francisco: Aunt Lute Press. Arredondo, G. F., Hurtado, A., Klahn, N., Nájera-Ramírez, O., & Zavella, P. (Eds.). (2003). Chicana feminisms: A critical reader. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Awkward, M. (2000). A Black man’s place in Black feminist criticism. In J. James & T. D. Sharpley-Whiting (Eds.), The Black feminist reader (pp. 88–108). Oxford, UK: Blackwell. Baber, K. M., & Allen, K. R. (1992). Women & families: Feminist reconstructions. New York: Guilford Press. Baca Zinn, M. (1994). Feminist re-thinking from racial-ethnic families. In M. Baca Zinn & B. T. Dill (Eds.), Women of color in U.S. society (pp. 303–314). Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Badran, M. (2005). Between secular and Islamic feminism/s: Reflections on the Middle East and beyond. Journal of Middle Eastern Women’s Studies, 1(1), 6–28. Bell-Scott, P. (1994). Black women writing lives: An introduction. In P. Bell-Scott (Ed.), Life notes: Personal writings by contemporary Black women (pp. 17–26). New York: W. W. Norton. Cannon, K. (1988). Black womanist ethics. Atlanta, GA: American Academy of Religion. Cannon, K. (1996). Emancipatory historiography. In L. M. Russell & J. S. Clarkson (Eds.), Dictionary of feminist theologies (p. 81). Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press. Castañeda, A. I. (1993). Sexual violence in the politics and policies of conquest: Amerindian women and the Spanish conquest of Alta California. In A. de la Torre & B. M. Pesquera (Eds.), Building with our hands: New directions in Chicana studies (pp. 15–33). Berkeley: University of California Press. Chávez, A. F., & Guido-DiBrito, F. (1999). Racial and ethnic identity and development. New Directions for Adult and Continuing Education, 84, 39–47. Collins, P. H. (1991). Black feminist thought: Knowledge, consciousness and the politics of empowerment. New York: Routledge. Collins, P. H. (1998). Fighting words: Black women and the search for justice. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Combahee River Collective. (2000). The Combahee River Collective Statement, 1977. In B. Smith (Ed.), Homegirls: A Black feminist anthology (pp. 264–274). New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Conover, P. (1988). Feminism and the gender gap. Journal of Politics, 50, 985–1010. Cook, E. A. (1989). Measuring feminist consciousness. Women and Politics, 9, 71–88. Crenshaw, K. (1993). Demarginalizing the interaction of race and sex: A Black feminist critique of antidiscrimination doctrine, feminist theory, and anti-racist politics. In D. Weisberg (Ed.), Feminist legal theory: Foundations (pp. 383–411). Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Daneshpour, M. (1998). Muslim families and family therapy. Journal of Marital and Family Therapy, 24(3), 355–368. Daneshpour, M. (2004). Stress and adaptation among Iranian families: A multisystem model of personal, couple, family, and work system. Journal of Family Psychology and Family Therapy. 4, 34–54. Davis, A. Y. (1981). Women, race, and class. New York: Random House. D’Emilio, J., & Freedman, E. B. (1997). Intimate matters: A history of sexuality in America. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Demo, D. H., & Hughes, M. (1990). Socialization and racial identity among Black Americans. Social Psychology Quarterly, 53, 364–374. Derrida, J. (1982). Margins of philosophy. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. De Reus, L., Few, A. L., & Blume, L. B. (2005). Multicultural and critical race feminisms: Theorizing families in the third wave. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. DilworthAnderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 447–468). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

3. Theorizing With Racial-Ethnic Feminisms in Family Studies Dilworth-Anderson, P., Burton, L. M., & Johnson, L. B. (1993). Reframing theories for understanding race, ethnicity, and families. In P. G. Boss, W. J. Doherty, R. LaRossa, W. R. Schumm, & S. K. Steinmetz (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theories and methods: A contextual approach (pp. 627–650). New York: Plenum Press. Doherty, W. J., Boss, P. G., LaRossa, R., Schumm, W. R., & Steinmetz, S. K. (1993). Family theories and methods: A contextual approach. In P. G. Boss, W. J. Doherty, R. LaRossa, W. R. Schumm, & S. K. Steinmetz (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theories and methods: A contextual approach (pp. 3–30). New York: Plenum Press. Einstein, Z. (1993). The color of gender: Reimaging democracy. Berkeley: University of California Press. Fernea, E. W. (1998). In search of Islamic feminism: One woman’s global journey. New York: Doubleday. Ferree, M. M. (1990). Beyond separate spheres: Feminism and family research. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 52, 866–884. Few, A. L. (2007a). Integrating black consciousness and critical race feminism into family studies research. Journal of Family Issues, 28, 452–473. Few, A. L. (2007b). Womanism. In G. Ritzer (Ed.), The Blackwell encyclopedia of sociology (Vol. 10, pp. 5257–5259). Oxford, UK: Blackwell. Few, A. L., Stephens, D. P., & Rouse-Arnett, M. (2003). Sister-tosister talk: Transcending boundaries and challenges in qualitative research with black women. Family Relations, 52, 205–215. García, A. M. (Ed.). (1997). Chicana feminist thought: The basic historical writings. New York: Routledge. Gilroy, P. (1987). “There ain’t no Black in the Union Jack”: The cultural politics of race and nation. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Gonzalez, D. (1999). Refusing the favor: The Spanish-Mexican women of Santa Fe, 1820–1880. New York: Oxford University Press. Grewal, I., & Kaplan, C. (Eds.). (1994). Scattered hegemonies: Postmodernity and transnational feminist practice. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Gurin, P. (1985). Women’s gender consciousness. Public Opinion Quarterly, 49, 143–163. Gutiérrez, L. M., & Lewis, E. A. (1999). Empowering women of color. New York: Columbia University Press. Guy-Sheftall, B. (Ed.). (1995). Words of fire: An anthology of AfricanAmerican feminist thought. New York: New Press. Hamer, J., & Neville, H. (1998). Revolutionary Black feminism: Toward a theory of unity and liberation. Black Scholar, 28, 22–29. Helms, J. E. (1993). Introduction: Review of racial identity terminology. In J. E. Helms (Ed.), Black and White racial identity: Theory, research and practice (pp. 3–8). Westport, CT: Praeger. Helms, J. E. (1995). An update of Helms’ White and people of color racial identity models. In J. G. Ponterott, J. M. Casas, L. A. Suzuki, & C. M. Alexander (Eds.), Handbook of multicultural counseling (pp. 181–198).Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Henderson-King, D., & Stewart, A. J. (1997). Feminist consciousness: Perspectives on women’s experience. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, 23, 415–426. hooks, b. (1984). Feminist theory: From margin to center. Boston: South End Press. hooks, b. (1990). Yearning. Boston: South End Press. hooks, b. (1992). Black looks: Race and representations. Toronto, Ontario, Canada: Between the Lines Press. Hull, G. T., Bell-Scott, P., & Smith, B. (Eds.). (1982). All the women are white, all the blacks are men, but some of us are brave: Black women’s studies. Old Westbury, NY: Feminist Press. Hurtado, A. (1996). The color of privilege: Three blasphemies on race and feminism. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press. Kalmuss, D., Gurin, P., & Townsend, A. L. (1981). Feminist and sympathetic feminist consciousness. European Journal of Social Psychology, 11, 131–147.

41

Kincheloe, J. L., & McLauren, P. L. (1994). Rethinking critical theory and qualitative research. In N. K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.), Handbook of Qualitative Research (pp. 138–157). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Kuhn, T. (1970). The structure of scientific revolutions. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Lorde, A. (1984). Sister outsider. Freedom, CA: Crossing Press. Lorde, A. (1993). The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house. In L. Richardson & V. Taylor (Eds.), Feminist frontiers III (pp. 10–11). New York: McGraw-Hill. Mansbridge, J., & Smith, B. (2000). How did feminism get to be “all White”? A conversation between Jane Mansbridge and Barbara Smith. American Prospect, 11(9), 32–36. Marks, L. D., Hopkins, K., Chaney, C., Monroe, P. A., Nesteruk, O., & Sasser, D. D. (2008). “Together, we are strong’’: A qualitative study of happy, enduring African American marriages. Family Relations, 57, 172–185. McDonald, K. B., & Armstrong, E. M. (2001). De-romanticizing Black intergenerational support: The questionable expectations of welfare reform. Journal of Marriage and Family, 63, 213–223. McLoyd, V. C., Cauce, A. M., Takeuchi, D., & Wilson, L. (2000). Marital processes and parental socialization in families of color: A decade review of research. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 1070–1093. Mead, G. H. (1934). Mind, self, and society (C. Morris, Ed.). Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Mohanty, C. T. (1992). Feminist encounters: Locating the politics of experience. In M. Barrett & A. Phillips (Eds.), Destabilizing theory (pp. 74–92). Cambridge, UK: Polity Press. Mohanty, S. P., Alcoff, L. M., Hames-Garcia, M., & Moya, P. M. L. (Eds.). (2006). Identity politics reconsidered. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Moraga, C., & Anzaldúa, G. (Eds.). (1981). This bridge called my back: Writings by radical women of color. Watertown, MA: Persephone Press. Moya, P. M. L. (2006). What’s identity got to do with it? Mobilizing identities in the multicultural classroom. In S. P. Mohanty, L. M. Alcoff, M. Hames-Garcia, & P. M. L. Moya (Eds.), Identity politics reconsidered (pp. 96–117). New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Oswald, R. F., Blume, L. B., & Marks, S. R. (2005). Decentering heteronormativity. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. Dilworth-Anderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 143–166). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Pardo, M. S. (1998). Mexican American women activists: Identity and resistance in two Los Angeles communities. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Pérez, E. (1991). Sexuality and discourse: Notes from a Chicana survivor. In C. Trujillo (Ed.), Chicana lesbians: The girls our mothers warned us about (pp. 159–184). Berkeley: Third Woman Press. Pérez, E. (1999). The decolonial imaginary: Writing Chicanas into history. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Peters, M. F. (1985). Racial socialization of young black children. In H. P. McAdoo & J. L. McAdoo (Eds.), Black children: Social, educational and parental environments (pp. 159–173). Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Phinney, J. S. (1996). Understanding ethnic diversity: The role of ethnic identity. American Behavioral Scientist, 40(2), 143–152. Ramos, J. (Ed.). (1987). Compañeras: Latina lesbians (an anthology). New York: Latina Lesbian History Project. Rodriguez, J. M. (2003). Queer Latinidad: Identity practices. Discursive spaces. New York: New York University Press. Saldívar-Hull, S. (2000). Feminism on the border: Chicana gender politics and literature. Berkeley: University of California Press. Sanchez, R. (2006). On critical realist theory of identity. In L. M. Alcoff, M. Hames-García, S. P. Mohanty, & P. M. L. Moya (Eds.), Identity politics reconsidered (pp. 31–52). New York: Palgrave Macmillan.

42

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

Sandoval, C. (1991). U.S. Third World feminism: The theory and method of oppositional consciousness in the postmodern world. Genders, 10, 1–24. Sandoval, C. (1995). Third World feminism, U.S. In C. N. Davis & L. Wagner-Martin (Eds.), The Oxford companion to women’s writings in the United States (pp. 880–882). New York: Oxford University Press. Sandoval, C. (2000). Methodology of the oppressed. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Sellers, S. A. (2008). Native American women’s studies: A primer. New York: Peter Lang. Shah, S. (Ed.). (1997). Dragon ladies: Asian American feminists breathe fire. Boston: South End Press. Small, S. A., & Uttal, L. (2005). Action-oriented research: Strategies for engaged scholarship. Journal of Marriage and Family, 67, 936–948. Smith, B. (1983). Home girls: A Black feminist anthology. New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press. Spickard, P. R. (1992). The illogic of American racial categories. In M. P. P. Root (Ed.), Racially mixed people in America (pp. 12–23). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Sprey, J. (1988). Current theorizing on the family. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 50, 875–890. Sudbury, J. (1998). Other kinds of dreams: Black women’s organizations and the politics of transformation. London: Routledge.

Taylor, A. C., & Bagdi, A. (2005). The lack of explicit theory in family research: A case analysis of the Journal of Marriage and the Family 1990–1999. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. Dilworth-Anderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 22–25). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Taylor, R. J., Chatters, L. M., Tucker, M. B., & Lewis, E. (1990). Developments in research on Black families: A decade review. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 52, 993–1014. Thompson, L., & Walker, A. J. (1995). The place of feminism in family studies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 57, 847–865. Townes, E. (1993). A troubling in my soul: Womanist perspectives on evil and suffering. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books. Walker, A. (1983). In search of our mother’s gardens: Womanist prose. San Diego, CA: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich. West, C. (1982). Prophesy deliverance! An Afro-American revolutionary Christianity. Santa Ana, CA: Westminster Press. White, J. M., & Klein, D. M. (2008). Family theories (3rd ed.). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Wing, A. K. (Ed.). (1997). Critical race feminism: A reader. New York: New York University Press. Wing, A. K. (Ed.). (2000). Global critical race feminism: An international reader. New York: New York University Press. Yinger, J. M. (1976). Ethnicity in complex societies. In L. A. Coser & O. N. Larsen (Eds.), The uses of controversy in sociology (pp. 197–216). New York: Free Press.

4 QUEERING “THE FAMILY” R AMONA FAITH O SWALD K ATHERINE A. K UVALANKA L IBBY B ALTER B LUME DANA B ERKOWITZ

queer\‘kwir\ adj [origin unknown] (1508). 1. a: differing in some odd way from what is usual or normal b: (1) ECCENTRIC UNCONVENTIONAL (2) mildly insane, TOUCHED c: absorbed or interested to an extreme or unreasonable degree: OBSESSED d: sexually deviate: HOMOSEXUAL ~ usu. used disparagingly. 2. a: WORTHLESS COUNTERFEIT < ~ money> b: QUESTIONABLE SUSPICIOUS 3. not quite well. syn see STRANGE—queer-ish adj—queer-ly adv queer-ness n. —Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary (1983)

queer transitive verb (circa 1812). 1. to spoil the effect or success of 2. to put or get into an embarrassing or disadvantageous situation. —Merriam-Webster Online (2007)

Q

ueer theory makes the familial strange. It unmasks the social practices that construct “normality” and leads us to question the values embedded in such constructions. Queering “the family,” the ideological bedrock that equates morality with mom, dad, and 2.5 children living in a private suburban home (see Smith, 1993), requires us to “spoil the effect or

success of ” this equation, and the inequities thus produced. Our goal in this chapter is to situate queer theory within feminist family scholarship. First, we describe how queer theory partially emerged from the limitations of lesbian and gay (LG) studies. Then, we present the basic tenets of queer theory, identify the ways in which it parallels feminist theories, and discuss tensions

43

44

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

between queer theory and both feminism and LG studies. Finally, we describe the impact that queer theory has already had on family studies and present ways in which this impact may grow. Because we are all feminist family scholars who study and write about queering, our collaboration reflects our enthusiasm for pushing the boundaries of feminism and family theories to stimulate new ways of thinking about families.

FROM LG STUDIES TO QUEER THEORY LG studies emerged in the late 1970s from the convergence of political struggles to legitimate LG identities with academic attention to homosexuality as a social phenomenon rather than a medical pathology (Richardson & Seidman, 2002). These efforts were a response to the Cold War era discourse that “if permitted at all, turned on the question of whether [homosexuality] was sin, sickness, or crime” (Adam, 2002, p. 15). Early LG studies scholarship located “the problem” of homosexuality within heterosexist society rather than within LG people. This approach was limited, however, by the assumption that modern Western homosexual identities were universal and timeless rather than historically specific (Richardson & Seidman, 2002). For example, linear theories of identity formation were proposed to explain how one’s true (homosexual) self emerged (Rust, 1993). In these models (e.g., Cass, 1984), one’s true lesbian or gay self was realized by going through stages of feeling different, identifying that difference as relating to sexuality, deciding how to manage one’s homosexual desires in the face of prejudice, and ending with self-acceptance and a “stable” lesbian or gay identity. Bisexuality in these models was a problematic transition stage as one moved toward one’s true homosexuality (Rust, 1993). The notion of an ahistorical psychologically adjusted homosexual self was politically expedient and it provided an important corrective against the legacy of homosexuality as a mental disorder (D’Emilio, 1998). However, it was quickly challenged by social constructionist scholars who questioned how the very ideas of “sexuality” and “selfhood” arose and became fused within specific socio-historical conditions (Richardson & Seidman, 2002). For example, historian John D’Emilio (1998) detailed how the rise of wage labor during industrialization

diminished the importance of family as a site of productive and reproductive labor. This created historically specific opportunities such that: Only when individuals began to make their living through wage labor, instead of as parts of an interdependent family unit, was it possible for homosexual desire to coalesce into a personal identity—an identity based on the ability to remain outside the heterosexual family and to construct a personal life based on attraction to one’s own sex. (p. 134; see Katz 1995 for a parallel history of heterosexuality)

Along with the rise of social constructionism, intense conflicts about the boundaries of collective identity arose within LG movements and communities at this time (Adam, 2002). These divisions may have primed LG people to adopt queer theory, especially those whose agenda was sexual freedom rather than the end of male domination (Jeffreys, 2003). The convergence of social constructionism and collective instability created fertile ground for interest in queer theory, which has been referred to as postmodern deconstruction applied to the domain of sexuality (Beasley, 2005).

WHAT IS QUEER THEORY? Deconstruction of Binaries Queer theory conceptualizes the world as “composed of falsely bounded categories that give the impression of fixity and permanence where none ‘naturally’ exists” (Crawley & Broad, 2008, p. 551). Thus, rather than examine homosexuality as a historically produced minority status, queer theorists focus on linguistic binaries (e.g., heterosexual/homosexual) and the ways in which these conceptual oppositions are power relations that construct normality versus deviance and thereby function to regulate and punish (Adam, 2002). From this perspective, studying LG people from either an essentialist or a constructionist lens is problematic because it categorizes without questioning the categories themselves. Take, for example, the man Oswald hired to help haul woodchips from the county compost center. She assumed he was gay because of the way she met him; however, on the way to the compost facility he mentioned being married and regaled her with stories about how

4. Queering “The Family”

“the wife” was keeping him “in line.” Later, amid another story about “the wife” he referred to her as a “tranny queen.” In this moment, he exposed the fiction undergirding Oswald’s (unspoken) attempts to determine whether he was gay or straight. Furthermore, any attempt to classify his marriage as “deviant” or “normal” within any set of standards exposes the assumptions behind these categories and the ways in which either choice promotes the idea of normativity against a derogated “other.” Power, Social Control, and Heteronormativity Central to the deconstruction of binaries is an analysis of heteronormativity and heterosexuality. Heteronormativity is an ideological code that promotes rigidly defined conventional gender norms, heterosexuality, and “traditional family values” (Ingraham, 2005; Oswald, Blume, & Marks, 2005). Current social and intimate experiences are defined by a heterosexual/ homosexual binary that serves as a method of social control to encourage conformity within the heteronormative power structure (Crawley & Broad, 2008; Sedgwick, 1990). Heteronormativity has very real material consequences for those situated differently in the matrix of domination. Queer scholarship questions how institutionalized heterosexuality ensures that some people will have more power, privilege, status, and resources than others (Ingraham, 1994). Too often, studies of sexuality have emphasized the margins or the “deviations” without questioning the center. A queer analysis denaturalizes heterosexuality as a taken-for-granted biological entity and unpacks its meaningmaking processes (Ingraham, 1994). Thus, critical investigations of heterosexuality bring to the forefront the material, institutional, discursive, and political mechanisms that are often rendered invisible and, thereby, ensure the maintenance of heterosexuality as axiomatic and normal. For example, Oswald and Suter’s (2004) comparative research on heterosexual weddings as experienced by heterosexual versus LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender) people exposes how heteronormative family membership is ritually reproduced (and the membership of “nonnormative” people called into question) through symbolic repetition and social pressure.

45

Queer theory argues that power is enforced through the parading of discourses (Crawley & Broad, 2008). Discourses are “systems of statements, practices, and institutional structures” (Hare-Mustin, 1994) that appear to justify the very social forms they create and enforce. Foucault (1977, 1978, 1980), who is credited with laying the groundwork for much of queer theory, argues that discipline in (post)modernity creates “docile bodies,” which conform to the discourses of capitalism, democracy, and the military-industrial complex. Rather than physical force coercing us to behave, surveillance of ourselves and one another propels us to act in accordance with these ruling discourses (Foucault, 1977), for example, by conforming to rigid categorizations of gender and sexuality. Situating Foucault’s analysis of power in the context of families prompts scholars to ask how heteronormativity shapes the experiences, identities, and discourses of family members. For example, some participants in Berkowitz (2007) consciously invoked heteronormativity as an organizing principle for family life. Craig, a gay father raising two adoptive children with his partner, explained: [I’m] in charge of the childcare, I’m the mom basically. I have definitely taken on the role of the mother at home . . . in some ways we kind of entered into the situation with that understanding . . . he even said before we had kids like, “well you have to be the mommy” kind of thing, like, he didn’t want to be, he wanted me to be the nurturer.

The fact that being lesbian or gay is not in itself enough to transcend heteronormativity brings us to structure and agency. Structure and Agency Oswald et al. (2005) conceptualize heteronormativity as an ideological composite that “fuses together gender ideology, sexual ideology, and family ideology into a singular theoretical complex” (p. 144). Furthermore, simply because individuals identify as LG—or even as queer— does not necessarily mean that they enact queer genders, sexual practices, or family configurations. Queer theory pushes us to examine gender, sexuality, and family as interdependent binaries to be negotiated through human agency in the face of heteronormative power. Put simply,

46

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

to queer one’s gender, sexuality, or family “is to expose oneself to risk; risk of rejection by members of one’s family of origin, hostility from neighbors or friends, interference from the state, threats to one’s livelihood from employers, and physical violence from strangers and acquaintances” (p. 151). An unwillingness to jeopardize belonging may explain why people conform or hide rather than queer (Oswald & Suter, 2004). In the example above, we could argue that Craig’s use of “the mom” enables his family to be more accepted and understood by others. However, we note that the risks of queering do not rule out the possibility of resisting the heteronormative order; Craig could choose to conceptualize and enact his life differently. One of the goals of queer theory is to “disrupt the normalizing tendencies of the sexual order, locating nonheteronormative practices and subjects as sites of resistance” (Green, 2007, p. 28).

QUEER THEORY PARALLELS WITH FEMINIST THEORY Both feminists and queer theorists are antiessentialist, attempting to deconstruct and reinscribe categories of gender and sexuality (Gamson & Moon, 2004; Richardson, McLaughlin, & Casey, 2006; Valocchi, 2005). Toward this end, queer and feminist theories share three important endeavors. First, although an overly simplistic distinction is often drawn between feminist and queer studies on the basis that feminists emphasize gender, whereas queer theorists emphasize sexuality (Weed & Schor, 1997), both approaches have explored the ways that gender and sexuality are performed in context. Second, feminist and queer theorists both interrogate the intersection of gender and sexuality with other social identity categories such as race-ethnicity, class, and nationality. Third, both feminist and queer theories originally developed through activist movements, and both have been criticized for moving too fully into academe. Gender Versus Sexuality Traditional feminist thought locates gender at the center of analysis (Beasley, 2005). Within family studies, the feminist goal has been to critique and revise power relations so one’s biological sex no longer determines spousal or

parental roles, rights, or access to resources. Much of this work has mistakenly presumed that all women and men are heterosexual (Oswald et al., 2005), though increasing attention has been paid to problematizing heterosexuality (e.g., Richardson, 1996). Queer theory resists heteronormativity in much the same way that feminist theories decenter hegemonic masculinity; power relations are redrawn such that heterosexuality is no longer the gateway to rights or resources. Heteronormativity in this equation includes gender but combines it with sexuality and family status (Oswald et al., 2005). For example, Hicks’s (2000) queer theory– informed study of social workers managing lesbian applicants for adoption deconstructed the ways in which these practitioners upheld heteronormativity. Social workers conceptualized lesbians as “good” or “bad” and approved petitions when they perceived the lesbian to be “good,” meaning apolitical, asexual, caring, gender typical in appearance or lifestyle, friendly with heterosexual men and women, and able to manage prejudice from others. Hicks’s research enables us to see how using only gender or only sexuality would produce an incomplete analysis. Furthermore, the implicit message of this study illustrates queer theory’s position that people who transgress heteronorms, including the “bad” lesbians in Hicks’s study, are legitimate beings worthy of rights and resources (Stacey & Davenport, 2002). Performance in Context From a postmodern feminist perspective, all identity categories (e.g., gender and sexuality) are negotiated within changing social and temporal locations. In other words, the meaning of specific identities shifts in relation to changes in discursive and material contexts. Furthermore, as we enact an identity, we are coconstructed by meanings provided by other actors (Blume & Blume, 2003). Queer theory is also a postmodern approach in which identity is fluid and contextual (Beasley, 2005). Though the distinction between queer theory and postmodern feminism is rather blurred, Butler’s (1990) notion of “performativity” provided a central queer contribution to this theoretical canon. Butler rejects both gender and sexuality as “natural” or fixed and argues that they are ongoing fictions constructed by the repetition

4. Queering “The Family”

of “stylized bodily acts” that reify male and female as natural opposites that desire each other. Reification occurs because the performance is discursive; it reaffirms the “truth” of existing cultural narratives. Analyses of performativity focus on the instability of supposedly natural categories and the ways in which simple interactions can uphold or subvert heteronormative power. Consider the following excerpt from Ahmed (2006) analyzing how others respond to her relationship: When a neighbor asks, “Is that your sister or your husband?” I don’t answer and rush into the house. It is, one has to say, quite an extraordinary utterance. There are two women, living together, a couple of people alone in a house. The first question reads the two women as sisters . . . In this way, the reading both avoids the possibility of lesbianism and also stands in for it, insofar as it repeats, in a different form, the construction of lesbian couples as siblings: lesbians are sometimes represented as if they have a family resemblance . . . The sequence of the utterances offers two readings of the lesbian couple, both of which function as straightening devices: if not sisters, then husband and wife. The lesbian couple in effect disappears. (pp. 562–563)

Note how Ahmed brings to light the production of heteronormativity through discursive “straightening devices” that render lesbians invisible. This is the process of reification. Intersectionality Feminist standpoint theorists (e.g., Combahee River Collective, 1986) assume individuals have multiple intersecting identities that mutually contribute to their unique perspectives such as being Black and female. Intersectionality was developed in response to second-wave feminist theories that did not adequately address the experiences of women of color or other minority groups (De Reus, Few, & Blume, 2005). Intersectionality deuniversalizes knowledge by locating its production within specific social positions such as a Black feminist standpoint (e.g., Collins, 2000). Furthermore, not focused solely on disadvantage, intersectionality combines both privileged and subordinate positions (King, 1988). Queer theory has been criticized for primarily describing a White middle-class gay experience (see Ferguson, 2005). However, queer theorists have begun to address multiple intersections

47

with other identities such as race-ethnicity, class, and nationality. Cantú (2001), for example, used “queer materialism” to study how gay male immigrants from Mexico to the United States resisted the notion of “kin-based immigrant” by moving within gay migration chains. In addition, increasing attention has been paid to how LG people resist queering by pursuing their gender, race, and class privilege. For example, many of the predominantly White middle-class fathers in Berkowitz (2007) hired nannies to enable them to continue their career path, avoid the second shift, and have leisure time with their families. While these men are marginalized for their sexual identities, an intersectional approach highlights how their race and, more clearly, their class privilege offer them the ability to avoid child care and domestic duties. Where heterosexual fathers may rely on their female partners to keep house and care for children, gay fathers who have the financial resources can extend this gender exploitation beyond the confines of their family and employ migrant women, women of color, or poor women to perform the traditional duties of the wife. This dynamic parallels what Duggan (2002) has called “homonormativity,” which is the assimilation of LG identities into heteronormative ideals of modern domesticity and consumption. Praxis Feminist praxis refers to developing critical consciousness about an issue and working to articulate and institutionalize a strategy for change (De Reus et al., 2005). Transnational feminisms are praxis-oriented theories that address the globalized experiences of immigrants, migrants, or refugees who maintain family links across borders and cultures (Blume & De Reus, 2008). For example, postcolonial feminist approaches (e.g., Spivak, 1999) critique the universality of Western hegemony and advocate using group identities to advance practical politics on behalf of marginalized groups. As in transnational and postcolonial feminist approaches, queer theory represents an ideology with roots in both academia and activism. Earlier, we summarized queer theory’s partial roots in the 1970s’ political struggles for LG legitimacy. In the 1980s, much of the struggle was organized around fighting HIV/AIDS, for example, through the direct actions of the AIDS

48

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

Coalition to Unleash Power (ACT-UP). In early 1990, alarmed by the steep rise in hate crimes against LGBT people in New York City, members of ACT-UP formed “Queer Nation” and distributed flyers titled “Queers Read This” (Anonymous, 1990) at the 1990 NYC Gay Pride Parade (Rand, 2004). Though short lived (the group officially disbanded in 1992), Queer Nation had a profound and lasting effect on political discourse, for example, by reclaiming the word “queer” and insisting on a confrontational politics of difference from, rather than assimilation to, heteronormativity (Rand). Praxis between Queer Nation and 1990s scholarship intensified the commitment of many scholars to using queer theory (e.g., Stryker, 2004).

TENSIONS BETWEEN QUEER THEORY AND FEMINISM AND LG STUDIES Despite queer theory’s convergence with aspects of feminism and LG studies, considerable tensions exist. First, there are conceptual incompatibilities; specifically, the deconstruction of binaries undermines the “necessary fiction” (Weeks, 1995) of stable and collective identities on which social movements depend (Adam, 2002). To the extent that queer theory redefines gender and sexuality as reiterated discourses rather than identities with a material base (e.g., Butler, 1990), it trivializes injustice by deflecting attention away from the global material inequalities that women, including lesbians, continue to suffer (Jeffreys, 2003), and it resists any possibility of social change (Murray, 1997). Furthermore, the queer theory position that power is enforced through the internalization of discourses (“docile bodies”) rather than brute force is untenable when we consider, for example, the high prevalence of rape and domestic violence and the inadequate institutional response to survivors (Jeffreys, 2003). Feminist and LG scholars with a materialist orientation do not dispute that internalization plays an important role in reproducing power relations; rather, they object to the idea that power can be reduced to it (Jeffreys). A second tension concerns the genealogy of ideas. Queer theorists have been criticized for writing as though social construction arose “like Athena, fully formed from the head of Michel Foucault” (Epstein, 1996, p. 146). For example,

Butler’s (1990) elaboration of “performativity” makes no mention of West and Zimmerman’s (1987) already well-established concept of “doing gender.” Furthermore, queer theorists have dismissed second-wave feminist theories as “essentialist,” ignoring how some second-wave theories, including lesbian feminism, clearly articulated gender as a social construction (Jeffreys, 2003). The third tension concerns the extent to which queer theory is, as Sedgwick (1990) claimed, “universalizing” rather than “minoritizing.” Jeffreys (2003) argues that queer is the new patriarchy. Queer ideas and politics, in her view, frame a gay male sexual agenda as queer (read universal) and thereby erase lesbian identity and political interests; it is “universal man” all over again. For example, she describes the “ick factor” by which gay men express their disgust toward women’s bodies (e.g., “tuna jokes”) and aligns it with the queer-culture celebration of lesbians wearing dildos, role-playing butch-femme, using pornography, exploring sadomasochism, and pursuing masculinity to the point of transsexual operation. According to Jeffreys, this queer celebration of masculinity reproduces patriarchy by refusing a lesbian feminist critique of domination and subordination.

IMPACT OF QUEER THEORY ON FAMILY STUDIES Family scholars and other social scientists have only recently begun to view queer theory as legitimate and useful (Oswald et al., 2005; Valocchi, 2005; Warner, 2004). Oswald et al.’s (2005) “Decentering Heteronormativity: A Model for Family Studies” chapter in Sourcebook of Family Theories and Research (Bengtson, Acock, Allen, Dilworth-Anderson, & Klein, 2005) provided the first articulation of queer theory within the field of family studies. Oswald et al. (2005) specifically called for family scholars to apply a queer lens to family studies research and presented a conceptual model for understanding how heteronormativity is resisted and accommodated at multiple levels with regard to gender, sexuality, and family. The authors discussed the concept of “queering the family” and provided examples of how family researchers have used methods to “decenter” heteronormativity.

4. Queering “The Family”

The inclusion of this chapter in the Sourcebook led to a “firestorm” of controversy; interested readers should refer to the chapter in which this drama is summarized (Bengtson et al., 2005). While the family field has had long-standing tensions regarding the inclusion of diverse families, including those with LG members, it was the inclusion of queer theory that triggered an explosion among family scholars who equate queering with the end of morality (e.g., Knapp & Williams, 2005). This is arguably because our previous inclusion of LG family members had expanded definitions of family diversity without fundamentally challenging our disciplinary core. For example, it is a short step for many to go from “stepfamily” to “gay-stepfamily”; even those opposed to LG families can accept arguments that they exist and therefore must be included in the canon. However, queer theory moves beyond such inclusion and questions the very normality of heterosexuality and heteronormativity. Some of our colleagues are not open to doing this work. Given the Sourcebook controversy, we sought to determine the extent to which the “Decentering Heteronormativity” chapter is actually being used. We collected syllabi from family theory courses being taught at 36 of the roughly 40 doctoral programs in family studies; 22 of the syllabi included a unit on feminist theory, and of these, 6 also assigned the “Decentering Heteronormativity” chapter. Interestingly, this chapter was included with feminist theory on only one syllabus; on the others, queer theory was situated under theorizing about families and change, within a content area, as a part of social constructionism, or as a “think piece” assignment where students critiqued and integrated two theories. The diversity of approaches suggests that our field does not have an established place for queer theory; those who see it as a fundamental part of graduate training are left to situate queer theory on their own. Furthermore, those who assigned the Sourcebook chapter are faculty at researchintensive, land-grant institutions who have made their own significant contributions to family theory and who are tenured (five of the six). We surmise that queer theory is being adopted by cutting-edge scholars who have the job security and professional reputation to take risks with content. What remains to be seen is the extent to which queer theory will inform future family research. Given that the vast majority of family

49

studies programs are undergraduate or professional master’s programs, we look forward to any evidence that queer theory is being introduced in these classrooms and then used in later direct practice with families. Below, we discuss the opportunities family scholars have to bring queer theory into the family canon.

IMPLICATIONS OF QUEER THEORY FOR FAMILY STUDIES Theory We do not need queer theory to justify attention to diverse families; feminist theories (e.g., Osmond & Thorne, 1993) and ethnic minority scholarship (e.g., Collins, 2000) have already provided this. Nor do we need queer theory to demonstrate how the modern heteronormative family serves conservative political and economic interests; Marxists did that decades ago (e.g., Barrett & McIntosh, 1982; Engels, 1884/1972). Queer theory is not needed to study subjectivity; symbolic interaction gave us the “definition of the situation” in 1928 (D. I. Thomas, cited in LaRossa & Reitzes, 1993). Furthermore, we do not need queer theory to talk about homosexuality; LG studies brought this to the fore (e.g., Weston, 1991). Finally, family discourse (e.g., Gubrium & Holstein, 1990) provides a lens for studying how people invoke the word “family” to make moral claims; queer theory is not needed to make this connection. What we do need queer theory for is the examination of how heteronormativity is reproduced and resisted by everyone. Effectively using queer theory requires family scholars, including feminists, to remedy two common problems in family scholarship. First, we must clarify that, although the term queer is often used as an analogue for LGBT, using queer theory is not about studying LGBT or queer people as a minoritized group (Giffney, 2004). Rather, the unit of analysis for queer theory is heteronormativity regardless of the specific group or phenomenon under study; the level of analysis can vary (individual, relational, subcultural, and/or societal), and the methodologies used can be diverse. A queer analysis attends to the interdependence of gender, sexuality, and family in relation to heteronormativity. This clarification brings us to the second challenge:

50

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

Family scholars who want to use queer theory must avoid equating gender with heterosexuality. This rampant practice inhibits our ability to see the complexities of gender, privileges heterosexuality, and fails to question the power relations behind calling something a “family.” One major contribution queer theory has already made to the family field can be seen in analyses that challenge the idea that we should consider LG-parented families to be “normal” because they are analogous to families with heterosexual parents. Stacey and Biblarz (2001) critiqued research comparing children of LG parents to children of heterosexuals with regard to gender conformity, heterosexual orientation, and other developmental outcomes. While these studies have been critically important in affirming LG families and in assisting family courts in making informed child custody decisions (Patterson, 2006), they have, ironically, maintained the heteronormative family binary by upholding the heterosexual-parent family as the ideal against which LG-parent families should be compared (Stacey & Biblarz, 2001). Furthermore, Stacey and Biblarz point out that some of the studies used to support the claim that children of LG parents are “no different” than children of heterosexuals in fact do show differences. For example, though equally likely to identify as heterosexual, children of lesbians have been found more likely than children of heterosexuals to explore their sexuality (Tasker & Golombok, 1997). Stacey and Biblarz (2001) situate the claims of “no difference” within a political climate that makes doing otherwise quite risky but push us to take those risks in the interests of both knowledge and the people we study and serve. At least two negative implications of “no difference” for the children of LG parents have been identified. First is the pressure on these children to hide any difficulties they may be experiencing (Goldberg, 2007a; Kuvalanka, Teper, & Morrison, 2006). For example, a female participant in Kuvalanka (2007) said, I’ve struggled with depression my whole life, and I have definitely sometimes [worried that] me being kind of screwed up would be attributed to my mom. And honestly, some of it probably is her fault, and that is something that she and I have dealt with over the years together. But feeling this need to justify her all the time, and feeling kind of bad sometimes that I’m not, like, the perfect kid, so I can be like, “See, lesbian parents do good!” (p. 143)

Second, the notion of “no difference” denies knowledge people have about how parents who resist heteronormativity benefit their children by challenging social norms (Stacey & Biblarz, 2001); for example, individuals with LG parents have reported that they were socialized to be open-minded and tolerant of differences (Goldberg, 2007a; Tasker & Golombok, 1997). According to Goldberg, her participants “felt that they were better people as a function of having a gay parent, as it had ‘opened [their] eyes to other ways of being’ and forced them to confront their own homophobia and fear of difference” (p. 555). In addition to believing that queer theory is useful to family scholars, we anticipate that family scholars will innovate queer theory. Queer theorists have been criticized for using barely decipherable language to express simple ideas (Jeffreys, 2003); they have written for a largely academic audience (e.g., Dinshaw et al., 2007) and have emphasized queer politics (e.g., Warner, 1999) and practices (e.g., Halberstam, 2003). In contrast, family scholars are often practice oriented and, if the bumper sticker above Oswald’s computer reflects our discipline, we “eschew obfuscation.” Furthermore, we believe that most people’s lives are a combination of resisting and upholding heteronormativity, and thus queer theory is not just relevant to studying queer-identified phenomena. In other words, we want our theories to be clearly stated and widely relevant and our research to inform nonacademic practice. These values can enable us to bring queer theory to unexpected places. We can combine queer theory with other family theories, with family research methods, and with family studies pedagogy. Through her study of disclosure practices of adults raised by LG and bisexual parents, Goldberg (2007b) combined traditional family theories with queer theory. Using symbolic interactionism and life course theories, Goldberg posited that participants’ prior knowledge (e.g., previous experiences with disclosure or nondisclosure), their interpretations of their immediate context (e.g., perceived homophobia of others), and the quality and dynamics of participants’ current relationships with their parents all may influence whether participants disclose their parents’ sexual identity. Integrating queer theory, she further theorized that participants’ disclosure decisions are motivated

4. Queering “The Family”

by the interaction between a desire to resist heteronormative definitions of family and an assessment of social risk: Adult children of LGB parents . . . may “queer the family” through explicit disclosure of their family structure. . . . They out themselves as living representations of the heterogeneity of contemporary family forms. On the other hand, some adult children may . . . experience the pressures of heteronormativity, anticipate the social consequences of such queering processes, and stay silent. (p. 106)

Furthermore, Goldberg (2007a) noted how participants both resisted and accommodated the pressures of heteronormativity in relation to disclosure of their own gender and sexuality. Some participants with nonheterosexual and/or non-gender-conforming identities reported delaying their own “coming out” for fear of confirming the stereotype that “gay parents raise gay children;” furthermore, “when they did come out, they were highly sensitive of how people might evaluate or interpret the fact that both they and their parent(s) were gay” (p. 556). Pairing queer theory with traditional family theories benefits the field by providing a new lens through which to view family processes. Queer theory could also be combined with feminism. Ironically, this may be more controversial than combining queer theory with traditional family theories because feminist theory remains marginalized in our field (Allen, 2001). Although Wills and Risman (2006) documented a 25% increase in feminist or gender content in family scholarship between the years 1972 and 2002, feminism is still underrepresented. Some feminist scholars may feel that it is unfair for us to push them toward queer theory when gender inequality remains rampant and unacknowledged. We argue, however, that queer theory exposes why a singular “focus on the gendered nature of family life” (p. 698) is incomplete and compels us to unpack how the male/female binary is intricately bound with the heterosexual/homosexual and family/ not-family binaries (Oswald et al., 2005). Queer theory also prompts family scholars to ask new questions about family life. Oswald et al.’s (2005) conceptual model can be used to examine how individuals and families negotiate heteronormativity, as well as how organizational practices uphold or resist it. We can use queer theory to explore how the subjective categories

51

of gender, sexuality, and family come to be, and how they are experienced (Warner, 2004), resulting in “research that represents individuals’ lived experience in ways that honor the complexity of human agency, the instability of identity, and the importance of institutional and discursive power” (Valocchi, 2005, p. 768). Method Through its emphasis on the deconstruction of discourses, queer theory problematizes the subject of inquiry, the nature of inquiry, and even the inquirers themselves (Kong, Mahoney, & Plummer, 2001). Regarding the studied subject, queer theory pushes us to acknowledge that the classification systems for gender, sexual orientation, and family membership generally used by researchers are convenient for researchers but not necessarily accurate or informative. For example, given standard demographics measures of male/female, heterosexual/gay/lesbian/bisexual, married/not-married, and single-parent/twoparent households, it is impossible to fairly characterize the following family from the first author’s research: Two lesbian mothers, each of whom brought one biological child into the relationship. Despite living as a two-parent family with two 6-year-old boys, they do not have legal rights as a couple, or as parents to their nonbiological child. Further, though they identify as a lesbians, many people read them as a heterosexual couple in public and this affects their behavior, for example by always having the “feminine” looking one write checks so that the “masculine” looking one will not have to show her identification. In addition to this complexity, one child’s biological father (to whom the child’s biological mother was once married, and who retains his parental rights) is part of their daily family life, though he identifies as transgender and presents himself as gender ambiguous.

One strategy is to create classification systems that are more inclusive. However, this solution fails to take seriously the queer theory assertion that all classifications are problematic. As Kong et al. (2001) state, “The very idea that various types of people named homosexuals or gays or lesbians can simply be called up for interviews becomes a key problem in itself ” (p. 244). Queering methodology means giving up on the idea that we can put people in groups and then analyze some other part of their lives as if their

52

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

group membership was a simple fact. Using queer theory means sampling whatever set of people or phenomena is of interest but then going beyond their so-called characteristics to study the mundane processes that go into these classifications as they relate to heteronormativity. Because queer theory emphasizes process, qualitative methods are probably most relevant. Valocchi (2005) contends that ethnographic methods are best suited for the application of queer theory tenets, which require “a sensitivity to the complicated and multilayered lived experiences and subjectivities of individuals, and to the larger cultural, discursive, and institutional contexts of these lives where resources are allocated, images created, and taxonomies are given power” (p. 767). Furthermore, qualitative approaches, with their emphasis on how individuals create meaning, may “have a better chance of accounting for queer experiences in the same terms as the actual people living these experiences” (Warner, 2004, pp. 334–335). However, we also hold out the possibility that innovative quantative methods will be developed to investigate queering processes. Feminist reflexivity (see Allen, 2000) is an important tool for both qualitative and quantitative researchers who want to develop their capacity to queer both theory and methods. Reflexivity has been conceptualized as gazing back, through theory and methodology, at one’s own socially situated research project and position as researcher (Harding, 2003). For example, researchers should be reflexive about how their research constitutes the object it investigates; “when we name a population to investigate, when we operationalize practices and behaviors . . . we are manufacturing a reality that follows from the questions we are asking” (Warner, 2004, p. 335). The application of feminist reflexivity to using queer theory pushes us to monitor our own lapses into heteronormativity as we conduct supposedly queer research. Consider this episode from Berkowitz’s data collection: My lesbian-identified aunt’s partner invited me to go with her to the kickoff event for PRIDE week in New York City. I decorated myself in rainbow gear and soon felt as if I was fitting in with the crowd. After a few hours, we decided to leave and hopped on a cross-town bus. As I got off the bus, she hollered to me in a matter-of-fact tone, “Make sure you take off those stickers and bracelets or people are going to think you are gay.”

As Berkowitz reflected on that moment, she became critically aware of her unearned heterosexual privilege and was overwhelmed with the feeling that she was an imposter who was frequenting queer spaces for her own personal academic gain. However, at the core of queering is an understanding of how power is embedded in different layers of social life enforced through binaries and conceptual dualisms. Thus, a queer reflexivity would recognize that it was only because of these false dualisms that heterosexual privilege and consciousness could surface to cause this researcher to feel as if she were an imposter. Armed with a queer reflexivity, she now gazes backward at this moment with a nuanced realization of her ability to resist and challenge these illusory dualisms in the context of her research questions, data collection, analysis, and writing. Pedagogy Queer pedagogy has been defined as “a radical form of educative praxis implemented deliberately to interfere with, to intervene in, the production of ‘normalcy’ in schooled subjects” (Bryson & de Castell, 1993, p. 285). As critical feminist pedagogies built on Freire’s (1971) liberatory pedagogy by specifying and expanding notions of who may be oppressed and how (Weiler, 1995), queer pedagogy takes us a step further by challenging the “naturalness” of gender, sexuality, and family binaries. Rather than primarily seeking to include and/or legitimize marginalized groups and identities (see Allen, 1995), a queer pedagogy aims to analyze discursive and cultural practices that create identities and privilege some over others. For example, rather than simply including information about LG couples and/or parents in course curriculum, instructors using queer pedagogy would also engage students in discussions about “genuine” versus “pseudo” families and how this false binary is perpetuated in society. According to Nelson (1999), “pedagogies of inclusion thus become pedagogies of [ongoing] inquiry” (p. 373). Queer pedagogy can be employed in traditional family courses in numerous ways; three examples are shared here. First, Oswald et al.’s (2005, p. 147) conceptual model for understanding how heteronormativity is resisted and accommodated can be included in any family course. With diagram in hand, students can analyze a movie, reading,

4. Queering “The Family”

image, policy, or their own experience regarding how people are negotiating gender, sexuality, and family. Second, courses can include explorations of the heterosexual family myth (Herdt & Koff, 2001), which perpetuates the falsehood that heterosexual relationships, marriage, and parenting are the only paths to happiness. Third, strategies of reframing and deconstructing can be used in response to students’ normative questions about gender, sexuality, and family (Curran, 2006). For example, if a student asks, “Do gay parents make their children gay?”, rather than attempting to provide an informational answer, a queer pedagogical approach would prompt an instructor to ask the class to think about the sociocultural-political contexts in which the question was asked, possible motivations behind the question, and a range of possible reactions and responses to the question, as well as contributing factors (Curran). As queer pedagogy is not restricted to queer subjects (Luhmann, 1998), strategies of reframing and deconstructing can also be employed in any family course as discussions of gender, race, and family ensue. Furthermore, like feminist pedagogy (e.g., Allen, 1995), queer pedagogy deconstructs the traditional teacher-learner binary that regards the instructor as all-knowing and the student as ignorant (Luhmann, 1998). With a queer pedagogical approach, instructors are not required to have all the answers—they must be willing, rather, to engage with their students in the inquiry of subjectivities.

CONCLUSION Queer theory moves us “from an exclusive preoccupation with homosexuality to a focus on heterosexuality as a social and political organizing principle, and from a politics of minority interest to a politic of knowledge and difference” (Seidman, 1994, p. 174). A bona fide feminist queering of families would advance theoretical and empirical analysis of the heteropatriarchal power dynamics that structure (post)modern families to facilitate gender, sexual, and familial transformations. As Kurdek (2005) asserts, “change is the core construct of family science” (p. 162). If change is indeed at the crux of families, then perhaps family studies is ready to be queered. Armed with the “tools to pry off the labels that segregate homosexuality from the

53

family [and] queer studies from feminism,” we can finally begin to queer the family (Marcus, 2005, p. 192).

REFERENCES Adam, B. D. (2002). From liberation to transgression and beyond: Gay, lesbian and queer studies at the turn of the twenty-first century. In D. Richardson & S. Seidman (Eds.), Handbook of lesbian and gay studies (pp. 15–26). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Ahmed, S. (2006). Orientations: Toward a queer phenomenology. GLQ: A Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies, 12(4), 543–574. Allen, K. R. (1995). Opening the classroom closet: Sexual orientation and self-disclosure. Family Relations, 44, 136–141. Allen, K. R. (2000). A conscious and inclusive family studies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 4–17. Allen, K. R. (2001). Feminist visions for transforming families: Desire and equality then and now. Journal of Family Issues, 22, 791–809. Anonymous. (June, 1990). Queers read this! Retrieved on March 31, 2008, from www.qrd.org/qrd/misc/text/queers.read.this Barrett, M., & McIntosh, M. (1982). The anti-social family. London: Verso Books. Beasley, C. (2005). Gender and sexuality: Critical theories, critical thinking. London: Sage. Bengtson, V., Acock, A., Allen, K. R., Dilworth-Anderson, P., & Klein, D. (2005). Controversies and firestorms: An epilogue. In V. Bengtson, A. Acock, K. Allen, P. Dilworth-Anderson, & D. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 613–630). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Berkowitz, D. (2007). Gay men: Negotiating procreative, father, and family identities. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Florida. Blume, L. B., & Blume, T. W. (2003). Toward a dialectical model of family gender discourse: Body, identity, and sexuality. Journal of Marriage and Family, 65, 785–794. Blume, L. B., & De Reus, L. A. (2008). Transnational families and the social construction of identity: Whiteness matters. In R. L. Dalla, J. DeFrain, J. Johnson, & D. A. Abbott (Eds.), Strengths and challenges of new immigrant families: Implications for research, theory, education, and service (pp. 71–90). New York: Lexington. Bryson, M., & de Castell, S. (1993). Queer pedagogy: Praxis makes imperfect. Canadian Journal of Education, 18, 285–305. Butler, J. (1990). Gender trouble: Feminism and the subversion of identity. New York: Routledge. Cantú, L. (2001). A place called home: A queer political economy of Mexican immigrant men’s family experiences. In M. Bernstein & R. Reimann (Eds.), Queer families, queer politics: Challenging culture and the state (pp. 112–136). New York: Columbia University Press. Cass, V. (1984). Homosexual identity formation: Testing a theoretical model. Journal of Sex Research, 20, 143–167. Collins, P. H. (2000). Black feminist thought: Knowledge, consciousness, and the politics of empowerment (2nd ed.). New York: Routledge. Combahee River Collective. (1986). The Combahee River collective statement: Black feminist organizing in the seventies and eighties. New York: Kitchen Table Women of Color. Crawley, S., & Broad, K. L. (2008). The construction of sex and sexualities. In J. Holstein & J. Gubrium (Eds.), Handbook of constructionist research (pp. 545–566). New York: Guilford Press. Curran, C. (2006). Responding to students’ normative questions about gays: Putting queer theory into practice in an Australian ESL class. Journal of Language, Identity, and Communication, 5(1), 85–96. D’Emilio, J. (1998). Capitalism and gay identity. In K. V. Hansen & A. I. Garey (Eds.), Families in the US: Kinship and domestic politics (pp. 131–141). Philadelphia: Temple University Press.

54

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

(Reprinted from Powers of desire: The politics of sexuality, pp. 100–113, by A. Snitnow, Ed., 1983, New York: Monthly Review Press) De Reus, L. A., Few, A. L., & Blume, L. B. (2005). Multicultural and critical race feminisms: Theorizing families in the third wave. In V. Bengtson, A. Acock, K. Allen, P. Dilworth-Anderson, & D. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 447–468). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Dinshaw, C., Edelman, L., Ferguson, R. A., Freccero, C., Freeman, E., Halberstam, J., et al. (2007). Theorizing queer temporalities: A roundtable discussion. GLQ: A Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies, 13(2/3), 177–195. Duggan, L. (2002). The new homonormativity: The sexual politics of neoliberalism. In R. Castronovo & D. Nelson (Eds.), Materializing democracy: Toward a revitalized cultural politics (pp. 175–194). Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Engels, F. (1972). Origin of the family, private property, and the state. New York: Pathfinder. (Original work published 1884) Epstein, S. (1996). A queer encounter: Sociology and the study of sexuality. In S. Seidman (Ed.), Queer theory/sociology (pp. 145–167). Cambridge, MA: Blackwell. Ferguson, R. A. (2005). Race-ing homonormativity: Citizenship, sociology, and gay identity. In E. P. Johnson & M. G. Henderson (Eds.), Black queer studies: A critical anthology (pp. 52–67). Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Foucault, M. (1977). Discipline and punish: The birth of a prison. New York: Random House. Foucault, M. (1978). The history of sexuality: An introduction (Vol. 1). New York: Vintage Books. Foucault, M. (1980). Power/knowledge: Selected interviews and other writings 1972–1977 (C. Gordon, Ed.). New York: Pantheon Books. Freire, P. (1971). Pedagogy of the oppressed. New York: Herder & Herder. Gamson, J., & Moon, D. (2004). The sociology of sexualities: Queer and beyond. Annual Review of Sociology, 30, 47–64. Giffney, N. (2004). Denormatizing queer theory: More than (simply) lesbian and gay studies. Feminist Theory, 5(1), 73–78. Goldberg, A. E. (2007a). (How) does it make a difference? Perspectives of adults with lesbian, gay, and bisexual parents. American Journal of Orthopsychiatry, 77, 550–562. Goldberg, A. E. (2007b). Talking about family: Disclosure practices of adults raised by lesbian, gay, and bisexual parents. Journal of Family Issues, 28, 100–131. Green, A. I. (2007). Queer theory and sociology: Locating the subject and the self in sexuality studies. Sociological Theory, 25, 27–45. Gubrium, J. F., & Holstein, J. A. (1990). What is family? Mountain View, CA: Mayfield. Halberstam, J. (2003). What’s that smell? Queer temporalities and subcultural lives. Public Sentiments, 2.1. Retrieved April 2, 2008, from www.barnard.edu/sfonline/ps/halberst.htm Harding, S. (2003). Rethinking standpoint epistemology: What is strong objectivity? In S. Harding (Ed.), The feminist standpoint theory reader: Intellectual and political controversies (pp. 127–140). New York: Routledge. Hare-Mustin, R. T. (1994). Discourses in the mirrored room: A postmodern analysis of therapy. Family Process, 33, 19–35. Herdt, G., & Koff, B. (2001). Something to tell you: The road families travel when a child is gay. New York: Columbia University Press. Hicks, S. (2000). “Good lesbian, bad lesbian”: Regulating heterosexuality in fostering and adoption assessments. Child and Family Social Work, 5, 157–168. Ingraham, C. (1994). The heterosexual imaginary: Feminist sociology and theories of gender. Sociological Theory, 12(2), 203–219. Ingraham, C. (2005). Introduction: Thinking straight. In C. Ingraham (Ed.), Thinking straight: The power, the promise, and the paradox of heterosexuality (pp. 1–14). New York: Routledge. Jeffreys, S. (2003). Unpacking queer politics. Cambridge, UK: Polity Press.

Katz, J. N. (1995). The invention of heterosexuality. New York: Dutton Adult. King, D. (1988). Multiple jeopardy, multiple consciousnesses: The context of Black feminist ideology. Signs: Journal of Women and Culture in Society, 14(1), 42–72. Knapp, S., & Williams, C. (2005). Where does queer theory take us? In V. Bengtson, A. Acock, K. Allen, P. Dilworth-Anderson, & D. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 626–628). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Kong, T. S. K., Mahoney, D., & Plummer, K. (2001). Queering the interview. In J. F. Gubrium & J. A. Holstein (Eds.), Handbook of interview research: Context and method (pp. 239–258). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Kurdek, L. A. (2005). Reflections on queer theory and family science. In V. Bengtson, A. Acock, K. Allen, P. DilworthAnderson, & D. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 160–165). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Kuvalanka, K. A. (2007). Coping with heterosexism and homophobia: Young adults with lesbian parents reflect on their adolescence. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Maryland, College Park. Kuvalanka, K. A., Teper, B., & Morrison, O. A. (2006). COLAGE: Providing community, education, leadership, and advocacy by and for children of gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender parents. Journal of GLBT Family Studies, 2(3/4), 71–92. LaRossa, R. L., & Reitzes, D. C. (1993). Symbolic interactionism and family studies. In P. Boss, W. J. Doherty, R. LaRossa, W. R. Schumm, & S. K. Steinmetz (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theories and methods: A contextual approach (pp. 135–166). New York: Plenum Press. Luhmann, S. (1998). Queering/querying pedagogy? Or, pedagogy is a pretty queer thing. In W. F. Pinar (Ed.), Queer theory in education (pp. 141–155). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Marcus, S. (2005). Queer theory for everyone: A review essay. Signs: Journal of Women and Culture in Society, 31, 191–218. Merriam-Webster online. (2007). Queer. Retrieved October 26, 2007, from www.m-w.com Murray, S. O. (1997). Five reasons I don’t take queer theory seriously. Paper presented at the 1997 annual meeting of the Pacific Sociological society. Retrieved October 24, 2008, from www.indegayforum.org/news/show/26850.html Nelson, C. (1999). Sexual identities in ESL: Queer theory and classroom inquiry. TESOL Quarterly, 33, 371–391. Osmond, M. W., & Thorne, B. (1993). Feminist theories: The social construction of gender in families and society. In P. Boss, W. J. Doherty, R. LaRossa, W. R. Schumm, & S. K. Steinmetz (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theories and methods: A contextual approach (pp. 591–625). New York: Plenum Press. Oswald, R. F., Blume, L. B., & Marks, S. R. (2005). Decentering heteronormativity: A model for family studies. In V. Bengtson, A. Acock, K. Allen, P. Dilworth-Anderson, & D. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 143–165). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Oswald, R. F., & Suter, E. (2004). Heterosexist inclusion and exclusion during ritual: A “straight versus gay” comparison. Journal of Family Issues, 25(7), 881–899. Patterson, C. J. (2006). Children of lesbian and gay parents. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 15(5), 241–244. Rand, E. J. (2004). A disunited nation and a legacy of contradiction: Queer Nation’s construction of identity. Journal of Communication Inquiry, 28, 288–306. Richardson, D. (Ed.). (1996). Theorizing heterosexuality. Buckingham, UK: Open University Press. Richardson, D., McLaughlin, J., & Casey, M. E. (2006). Intersections between feminist and queer theory. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Richardson, D., & Seidman, S. (2002). Introduction. In D. Richardson & S. Seidman (Eds.), Handbook of lesbian and gay studies (pp. 1–12). London: Sage.

4. Queering “The Family” Rust, P. C. (1993). ‘Coming out’ in the age of social constructionism: Sexual identity formation among lesbian and bisexual women. Gender & Society, 7(1), 50–77. Sedgwick, E. K. (1990). Epistemology of the closet. Berkeley: University of California Press. Seidman, S. (1994). Symposium: Queer theory/sociology: A dialogue. Sociological Theory, 12(2), 166–177. Smith, D. (1993). The standard North American family: SNAF as ideological code. Journal of Family Issues, 14, 50–65. Spivak, G. C. (1999). A critique of postcolonial reason: Toward a history of the vanishing present. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Stacey, J., & Biblarz, T. (2001). (How) does the sexual orientation of parents matter? American Sociological Review, 66(3), 159–183. Stacey, J., & Davenport, E. (2002). Queer families quack back. In D. Richardson & S. Seidman (Eds.), Handbook of lesbian and gay studies (pp. 355–374). London: Sage. Stryker, S. (2004). Transgender studies: Queer theory’s evil twin. GLQ: A Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies, 10(2), 212–215. Tasker, F. L., & Golombok, S. (1997). Growing up in a lesbian family: Effects on child development. New York: Guilford Press.

55

Valocchi, S. (2005). Not yet queer enough: The lessons of queer theory for the sociology of gender and sexuality. Gender & Society, 19, 750–770. Warner, D. N. (2004). Towards a queer research methodology. Qualitative Research in Psychology, 1, 321–337. Warner, M. (1999). The trouble with normal. New York: Free Press. Webster’s ninth new collegiate dictionary. (1983). Queer. Springfield, MA: Merriam-Webster. Weed, E., & Schor, N. (1997). Feminism meets queer theory. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Weeks, J. (1995). Invented moralities: Sexual values in an age of uncertainty. New York: Columbia University Press. Weiler, K. (1995). Freire and a feminist pedagogy of difference. In J. Holland & M. Blair (Eds.), Debates and issues in feminist research and pedagogy (pp. 23–44). Clevedon, UK: Open University. West, C., & Zimmerman, D. (1987). Doing gender. Gender & Society, 1, 125–151. Weston, K. (1991). Families we choose: Lesbians, gays, kinship. New York: Columbia University Press. Wills, J. B., & Risman, B. J. (2006). The visibility of feminist thought in family studies. Journal of Marriage and Family, 68, 690–700.

5 POSTMODERN FEMINIST PERSPECTIVES AND FAMILIES K RISTINE M. B ABER

P

ostmodern feminist theories encompass a body of loosely related theoretical approaches that integrate the activist, emancipative strengths of feminism and the deconstructive tools of poststructuralism (Lather, 1991). Postmodern feminist theories not only provide useful strategies for studying families, relationships, and the contexts within which they function but also offer philosophical and pragmatic guidance to those advocating for greater equality in our society. The primary political goal of feminism is greater equality between men and women; however, postmodern feminism presses beyond this, seeking for everyone the “erasure of other invidious divisions, especially those based on race or ethnicity, and for open access to economic resources, educational opportunities, and political power” (Lorber, 2001, p. 264). Although postmodern feminist theories either receive scant attention in family studies or result in “controversies and firestorms” (Bengtson, Allen, Klein, Dilworth-Anderson, & Acock, 2005a), they may well be poised to lead a predicted revolution in family science. At the very least, postmodern feminist theories provide fresh and provocative possibilities for rethinking gender and power relations in our society and 56

suggest new ways for educators, researchers, clinicians, advocates, and policymakers to conceive of and work for equality. In this chapter, I provide an overview of postmodern feminist perspectives, define key concepts, and describe underlying assumptions. Consistent with foundational concerns of feminism, postmodern feminist theories target gender as a primary arena for action. In an attempt to undermine a gender system believed to both create and sustain oppression, postmodern feminist theorists encourage deconstruction, revision, or transcendence of dualistic categories of gender that are constructed and reinforced by traditional conceptualizations and practices (McKenna & Kessler, 2006). Race-ethnicity, sexual desire, and sexual identity, as well as the intersections of these identities with gender and socioeconomic class, have proven to be fertile sites for analysis through a postmodern feminist lens. Examples from work in these areas will be highlighted to demonstrate how postmodern feminist approaches have been used in family studies. I also present and address critiques of postmodern feminist theories, including concerns of feminists aligned with other theoretical positions. The chapter concludes with a vision for the future and suggestions for

5. Postmodern Feminist Perspectives and Families

further use and development of postmodern feminist theories by family studies academicians and practitioners. In keeping with commonly accepted feminist practices, I first locate myself as a postmodern feminist, both as an academic and an activist. My own work in postmodern feminist theory dates back to the book Women & Families: Feminist Reconstructions, written with Katherine Allen (Baber & Allen, 1992), in which we explored women’s experiences in families from a postmodern feminist perspective and deconstructed women’s work, adult relationships, sexualities, reproductive lives, and experiences as caregivers. In writing this book, we struggled with the ethical and epistemological tensions involved in applying a postmodern perspective to feminist research (Allen & Baber, 1992). Later, I explored women’s sexualities more in depth using a postmodern feminist perspective (Baber, 1994, 2000) and then, with Colleen Murray (Baber & Murray, 2001), considered the utility of using a postmodern feminist perspective to teach human sexuality. In 2006, Corinna Jenkins Tucker and I published our efforts in developing a research tool to capture gender-transcendent beliefs about social roles (Baber & Tucker, 2006). In my current capacity as Director of the University of New Hampshire’s Center on Adolescence, I have turned my attention toward youth in the belief that hope for the future lies in preparing young people to expect and work for equality.

UNDERLYING ASSUMPTIONS AND THEORETICAL CONCEPTS There are different conceptualizations of postmodern feminist theory, but most share common assumptions or underlying principles that employ the theoretical concepts of constructivism, discourse, and deconstruction. Common assumptions include the beliefs that there is no objective truth because knowledge and our understanding of the world are socially constructed, that social constructions are developed and maintained through discourse, that power relations are established and perpetuated through these discursive strategies that tend to reinforce binary and oppositional thinking, and that deconstructive processes offer possibilities for challenging

57

what has come to be seen as normal and natural and for initiating emancipatory actions. The Social Construction of Knowledge and Power Relations The constructivist aspect of postmodern feminism posits that perceptions of reality are created and maintained through the selection and organization of information and that knowledge, truth, power, and social relations are socially constructed rather than discovered or revealed (Baber & Allen, 1992; Flax, 1987; Hare-Mustin & Maracek, 1990). The idea that knowledge and what is assumed to be “natural” is socially constructed implies that knowledge claims are, at best, partial, fragmented, and incomplete and that there are multiple ways of experiencing and understanding the world and social relations (Flax, 1990). Postmodern feminist theorists challenge the beliefs that there are objective facts that exist separate from history and culture and that these facts can be uncovered using the correct scientific method (McKenna & Kessler, 2006). Postmodern feminism, therefore, rejects essentialism and reductionism and, instead, stresses the importance of historical context, variations among people, and the multiplicity of norms, practices, and relations that evolve through social transactions and that are influenced by power differentials (Baber & Allen, 1992; Bohan, 2002; Fraser & Nicholson, 1990; Harding, 1998). Because knowledge and truth claims are socially constructed, they are always an “account from somewhere” (Gannon & Davies, 2007, p. 72). Those with the most power in society tend to control the distribution of resources, the availability of opportunities, and the discourse that maintains dominance for privileged groups, suppressing belief systems that challenge their own. Allen (2000) identifies the postmodern challenge as requiring us to be “honest and realistic about where our ideas and analyses come from,” so that we, as researchers and theorists studying families, through our discourse, don’t create and sustain false oppositions “as if they were real things that could be categorized and prioritized” (p. 6). The Power of Discourse Discourse refers to interrelated systems of statements, terms, categories, and beliefs that

58

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

reflect and reinforce existing social arrangements so that they come to be seen as normal and natural (Baber & Murray, 2001; Gavey, 1993; Scott, 1994). The notion that discourses not only articulate what we think, say, and do but also “have the power to identify what is nameable, seeable, doable, speakable, or writeable” (Gannon & Davies, 2007, p. 73) derives from the work of Foucault (1978). Dominant discourses are historically and socially constructed in ways that reflect prevailing power structures and are reinforced through social institutions, laws, and modes of thought (Baber & Murray, 2001). Binary divisions are discursively constructed in such a way that they limit and constrain thinking, act as hierarchical ordering devices, and rule out multiplicity and nuance (Gannon & Davies, 2007). For example, gender is socially constructed as either male or female, sexuality as heterosexual or homosexual, and race as White or non-White. Power generally accrues to the first category in these binary oppositions. Discourses relevant to gender, sexuality, motherhood, race, work, and social class have had particular impact on women’s lives because they define what is normal, natural, and legitimate for people in these categories. Deconstruction as an Analytic Tool Deconstructive processes provide a powerful tool to contest concepts and constructions of reality that are taken for granted as normal and natural, to disrupt simplistic binary categories, and to challenge dominant discourses. Prevailing belief systems and power arrangements can be analyzed and decomposed through a systematic deconstruction process that examines how power functions as a regulatory mechanism and determines what information is legitimated in our society, what is obscured, and what is left out (Baber & Allen, 1992; Bordo, 1990; Flax, 1987; J. Harding, 1998). Deconstruction as an analytic technique works to denaturalize categories and destabilize the notion that a dichotomous construction exhausts the possibilities within a category or that certain categories are necessarily linked (Hawkesworth, 2007). Deconstruction clears space to consider the possibility that male and female may not exhaust the possibilities of gender or that mother is necessarily linked to woman. The deconstruction process generally results in a different understanding of the lives

and experiences of individuals, couples, and families, as well as provides for a greater awareness of the power of social institutions to reinforce gender categories and linkages. Deconstructive analyses push us to acknowledge nuances, diversity, and multiplicities that can be obscured by binary or unitary constructions. Postmodern feminism encourages us as theorists, educators, clinicians, and other family practitioners to embrace ambivalence, paradox, and heterogeneity, and critique naive dualisms that result in either/or thinking. The blending of postmodernism and feminism offers the possibility of complex, layered analyses that addresses the invisibility and distortion of knowledge about oppressed groups and identifies strategies for action (Baber & Murray, 2001; Fraser & Nicholson, 1990; Lather, 1991). Postmodernism recognizes the constitutive power of language and discourse, encourages a deep skepticism about realist approaches, and provides deconstructive tools (Gannon & Davies, 2007). However, it is only with the addition of the feminist lens that our attention is focused on the way in which social relations and social institutions are constructed and maintained; on how gender, and more recently, race and sexuality become relational categories of domination; and on the action strategies needed to challenge and disrupt these operations of power. As a result, postmodern feminist theories also tend to be “space clearing,” opening up new locations for considering the liberatory costs and benefits of thinking and acting differently (DiPalma & Ferguson, 2006). Gender and Degendering A social constructivist approach argues that social interactions in a gendered world both reproduce gender “differences” and produce gender inequalities (Kimmel, 2000). Power, inequality, and hierarchy are embedded in, and perpetuated by, traditional conceptualizations of gender and gender relations enacted in our everyday lives, often without reflection or question (Kimmel; Lorber, 2006). Gender emerges through social transactions and is created and sustained through social discourse that influences both cultural expectations and individuals’ sense of self in relation (Bohan, 2002; Fenstermaker & West, 2002). Constructivist approaches such as postmodern feminist theory conceive of gender as relational

5. Postmodern Feminist Perspectives and Families

and situational, something one “does” rather than a personality characteristic (Bohan, 2002; West & Zimmerman, 1987). Butler (2004), a leader in “undoing gender,” claims that gender complexity is not new but that norms governing dominant constructions prevent gender multiplicity from being acknowledged as real. Prevailing discourses perform a regulatory function that not only naturalizes binary categories of male/female or masculine/feminine but also keeps people from thinking differently and acknowledging existing complexity. Both modern and postmodern theorists generally see gender operating in relation to other identity categories and their power practices, but the goal of postmodern feminism is to multiply “gender practices with the goal of disrupting them altogether rather than reconsolidating a better set” (DiPalma & Ferguson, 2006, p. 134). There is no clear rationale for continued gendered division of labor in the home or the marketplace (Lorber, 2006). Lorber argues that gender “seeps” into our social roles and only through questioning existing arrangements and resisting gendering can we hope to address gender inequality. She recommends degendering as a form of resistance that “targets the processes, practices, and outcomes of gendering—gendered people, practices, and power” (p. 473). Degendering shifts our focus away from differences between men and women as individual, social actors and toward institutions that sort people into categories and allocate tasks and opportunities based on those categories. Lorber urges feminists to become degendering agents in our everyday lives, questioning gender expectations and challenging structures that build on gender divisions. From Difference to Intersectionality: Intertwined Systems of Power The concept of difference has pervaded feminist thinking, both in the sense of women being different from men and in recognizing differences among women’s experiences. A postmodern approach to difference includes the “multiplicity of voices, meanings, and configurations” that constitute our social world and the “multitude of different subject positions which constitute the individual” (Maynard, 2001, p. 127). The recognition of difference and multiple identities adds richness and validity to our feminist analyses but again raises questions about

59

who speaks for whom and how we can best mobilize political action (Parpart & Marchand, 2001). Maynard, among others, has questioned the usefulness of difference as an analytic tool because of its potential to divert attention from the underlying mechanisms of privilege and power. Black feminist scholars have led the way in the development of a paradigm of intersectionality emphasizing the diversity in women’s experiences and struggles and reminding us that our work needs to be about more than merely transforming the lives of women privileged by class, race, or other identities (Collins, 1998). Postmodern feminist family theory, also, is moving beyond a focus on socially constructed difference and identity politics toward acknowledging the intersectionality of categories of oppression (De Reus, Few, & Blume, 2005). Moving intertwined systems of power to the center of attention is a subtle but important shift. A postmodern feminist perspective on the intersection of identity categories is considerably different from, but can extend our understanding of, intersectionality as seen from a modern perspective. Postmodern feminist theories are more concerned with how sexist, racist, heterosexist, and class-ordered systems of power function to constrain the experiences and opportunities of those positioned within the interstices of constructed categories rather than just trying to understand how the experiences of individuals vary depending on their social location. Bohan (2002), writing specifically about the social construction of gender differences, warned that focusing on either sex differences or similarities to gain a clearer understanding of gender or a feminist politic “paves a road to nowhere” (p. 78) because such comparisons generally ignore the role of social context and power in social interactions. Bohan’s warning may be particularly important as we consider how best to ground our praxis in a paradigm that acknowledges intersecting identities, attending not only to the power arrangements between men and women but also to those within gender among those of different ethnicities. Johnson-Odim (2001) urges that the discourse about difference, and, I would add, the discourse about intersectionality, needs to be a discourse about power relations and the differential privilege and deprivation in our society. We need to shift the focus of our analysis from identifying women’s diverse experiences to the underlying

60

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

social relations that construct difference (whether that difference is based on gender, sexual orientation, socioeconomic condition, national/immigrant status, and/or other factors) as the basis for inequality and insubordination (Maynard, 2001). Making space for the articulation of diversity then becomes less about including perspectives of different women in our theory and more about challenging the interdependent systems of power and dominance (Johnson-Odim). For example, Hill (2005) argues that analyzing racism in the context of class and understanding how the racial hierarchy is perpetuated is critical if we are to understand and address the multifaceted consequences of racism. Her own analysis of the ways social class affects gender and racial socialization of children in Black families provides an excellent example of a more nuanced understanding of the consequences of intersecting categories of power. Johnson-Odim (2001) noted that looking at the interdependent systems of power is “contested terrain” (p. 115), however, because such an approach does not privilege gender inequity alone as the target of our struggles but acknowledges domination of women (and some men) to be the result of social constructions of race, class, sexuality, and other categories used to create and maintain oppressions. Moving beyond gender equality to consider how other forms of “difference” are constructed and maintained means that feminists must come to terms with how we too may be oppressors by virtue of privileged statuses we occupy.

POSTMODERN FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES Recent scholarly work in family studies provides examples of the utility of postmodern feminist approaches. Brief descriptions of research on intimate relationships among African American partners (Hill, 2005), a postmodern approach to family and couples therapy (Knudson-Martin & Laughlin, 2005), the development of a dialectical model to deconstruct gender discourse in families (Blume & Blume, 2003), and a proposal for a model to queer heteronormativity in family research (Oswald, Blume, & Marks, 2005) are provided. Although only Blume and Blume (2003) stated explicitly that this perspective guided their project, the work of the other

authors clearly demonstrates postmodern feminist efforts. Hill (2005) states that her book is a postmodern analysis of the African American experience and that it builds on Black feminist scholarship. Her analysis highlights the multiple intersecting systems of oppression that influence the lives and family relationships of Black women and “challenges the idea of a universal black experience, highlights the diversity of African Americans, and brings a gender focus to areas rarely studied, such as how gender affects intraracial intimacy and child socialization” (p. 11). Hill notes that, through a conflation of race and class, “the Black woman” is frequently constructed as poor and then compared with middle-class White women. In her analysis, Hill (2005) deconstructs not only the notion of “the Black woman” but also the concepts of race, culture, and naturalized institutions such as marriage. She emphasizes the diversity among Black women and Black families and identifies some of the tensions and contradictions they face in resisting racial oppression and trying to create more equitable family relationships. She also makes visible the intraracial diversity based on color, class, and political divisions. She uses an intersectionality approach to illuminate how social class position affects race and gender beliefs, child-rearing practices, intimate relationships, and orientation toward marriage. Knudson-Martin and Laughlin (2005) offered a “postgender” approach to relationship therapy advocating for more inclusive practice organized around equality rather than gender. Taking the position that many of the problems seen in therapy have their basis in gender inequality and dualist ideas about sexual orientation, they argue for disengaging “the concepts of gender, power, and sexual orientation to develop new models of health and normality” (p. 108). Proposing a second-order shift that moves away from thinking based on gender differences toward an approach based on equality at both the individual and structural level, they construct therapists as active agents who can act as mediators between clients and the larger society to put equality into practice. Noting that how one thinks about relationships constructs what is observed and what is seen as possible, Knudson-Martin and Laughlin encourage selfreflexivity, suggesting that therapists question their own expectations about gender and how

5. Postmodern Feminist Perspectives and Families

sociocultural contexts limit not only what goes on in relationships but also what goes on in therapy itself. Blume and Blume (2003), observing that families have been relatively ignored as sites for doing gender, used parent and child narratives to consider how gender is coconstructed in families. They proposed that parents assist their children in interpreting and enacting traditional gender norms consistent with the prevailing cultural discourse. They developed a dialectical model that encourages a deconstruction of gender themes of body, identity, and sexuality. This approach makes visible the power dynamics of discourse about gender and attempts to “transcend the dualities of gender categories themselves” (p. 791). Oswald, Blume, and Marks (2005) stated that postmodern philosophy and poststructural feminism influenced their deconstruction of heteronormativity, an ideology that upholds traditional constructions of gender, sexuality, and family as normal. They argue that the implicit value system that promotes heteronormativity involves a convergence of “at least three binary opposites: “real” males and “real” females versus gender “deviants,” “natural” sexuality versus “unnatural” sexuality, and “genuine” families versus “pseudo” families” (p. 144), with privilege being conferred on the first named in each binary. By resisting and disrupting these binary categories, these authors encourage an approach that reveals and supports complex genders, complex sexualities, and complex families. They offered examples of research that successfully decenters heteronormativity and, extending West and Zimmerman’s (1987) concept of “doing gender,” focused on the multiple and fluid ways of “doing families” and “doing sexuality.” Indications of postmodern feminist thinking in family studies, beyond those scholarly works that explicitly use such theories to guide their work, are also visible in frontline journals. Two examples of research that encourages us to look at the familiar in unexpected ways, one documenting “men who mother” (Risman, 1987) and the other exploring decisions by heterosexuals to secure domestic partnerships (Willetts, 2003), suggest how a slight shift in perspective can result in new information that expands our understanding of families and relationships. Risman’s (1987) investigation of “men who mother” (p. 6) compared widowed or deserted

61

single fathers who were reclassified into the mothering role as a result of losing their partners with single mothers and parents in dualearner and mother-at-home families. Risman found that single fathers adopted household and parenting behaviors that were much more similar to those of women who mothered than they were to the behaviors of married fathers in the sample. She took the position that gender is created through everyday interactions, such as providing physical maintenance and psychological nurturance to children, and is produced through related behavioral expectations and socially structured opportunities. By considering the possibility of delinking mothering and gender of parent, Risman presented new possibilities for rethinking how families interested in equity might parent, and she noted the importance of institutional support for parental leave and flextime for individuals who are parents, regardless of gender, as well as the necessity for expecting that any individual who bears children takes responsibility for care of those children. Although her discourse is somewhat different from that used in postmodern feminist analyses, Risman’s conceptualization of the project delinked mothering and gender, resulting in a degendering approach to interpreting her results. Another study that makes the familiar unfamiliar is Willetts’s (2003) exploration of heterosexual licensed domestic partners. The cohabitators in her study chose to legitimatize their relationships using domestic partnership laws rather than legal marriage. Willetts’s conceptualization of her research allowed her to think about legally committed relationships in a way that delinked sex and sexual orientation from method of legal commitment to reveal that some heterosexual couples chose domestic partnerships over marriage even when both options were available. Some of the couples chose domestic partnerships for pragmatic purposes such as economic benefits but others did so as a show of support for same-sex couples who did not have the option of marrying. Willetts concluded that participants in her study are among a growing number of couples who want a high level of emotional commitment and feel responsibility for their partners but do not want the baggage, such as rigid and predefined gender roles that traditionally accompany marriage. She sees these couples

62

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

as struggling to construct a new arrangement to redefine their relationships.

CRITIQUES OF POSTMODERN FEMINIST THEORIES Postmodern feminist theory is generally ignored by the more traditional academicians in family studies. Even in books focused on family theories that include feminist theory, postmodern feminist theory may not be mentioned (e.g., Ingoldsby, Smith, & Miller, 2004). The third edition of White and Klein’s (2007) Family Theories discussed deconstructionism in the chapter on “The Feminist Framework and Poststructuralism,” linking it primarily with critical race feminism. Even though these authors acknowledged the intellectual contributions made by feminist scholars and their adeptness at linking levels of analyses, they rejected feminism as “a” theory, much less a family of theories, because it does not adhere to “the traditional model of the justification of knowledge claims by empirical testing” (p. 236). Postmodern feminist theory not only fails to adhere to this model but also calls into question the model itself. Postmodern feminist theorists might deconstruct the processes by which this model was developed and ask whose interests are being served by the careful monitoring of what are and are not “real” theories. The esteemed Sourcebook of Family Theory and Research (Bengtson et al., 2005b) concluded with a chapter on “Controversies and Firestorms” in which the editors noted the competing claims of positivist and postmodern epistemologies. The Sourcebook chapter generating the most heat was that of Oswald, Blume, and Marks on queering family theory. This was the only chapter in the book about which a rejoinder was published. In the critique of the chapter, the authors (Knapp & Williams, 2005) questioned whether decentering the heteronormative family was a self-serving project “for a particular group” (p. 627), suggesting that such an approach benefited only sexual minorities and warning about the consequences of this approach on families. One Sourcebook editor (Allen), noting her disagreement with publishing the rebuttal, argued the continuing need for family scholars to deal with “who gets to count as family, how politics and religion are used to construct and/or distort family bonds, and how gatekeepers (including Sourcebook editors)

use power implicitly and explicitly to maintain or change the status quo” (Allen, 2005, p. 629). It is not surprising that such a chapter on queering the family is controversial. From a postmodern feminist perspective, we might question the process for deciding to privilege its detractors and wonder whether it is the deconstructive and disruptive aspects of “queering” traditional categories of sexuality, family, and, particularly, gender that contribute to the discomfort of the editors. There appears to be a general acceptance now in family studies, even though perhaps grudgingly, of “same-sex” families, and it is impossible to refute the diversity in contemporary family configurations. However, deconstructing and disrupting gender strikes not only at the foundation of power arrangements in our society but also at the heart of dichotomous categorization that privileges males—even those men who work to reduce sexism, racism, and classism. All men, regardless of other identity statuses, have access to some degree of gender privilege, have “benefited from it, and developed a vested interest in it” (Johnson, 1997, p. 21). Postmodern feminist theory is not only criticized by those who do not identify as feminists, but it also raises concerns among those whose theoretical grounding is in liberal feminism or in a feminist standpoint theory. Over a decade ago, Katherine Allen and I examined ethical and epistemological tensions in applying a postmodern perspective to feminist research, including issues about the effects on identity politics that might result from deconstructing the concept of women, the challenges of embracing a paradigm of intersectionality, and the possibility of increasing the mystification about using feminist theory in our everyday lives (Allen & Baber, 1992). Identity, sometimes essentialistically conceived, is a way to organize a logical category of people who share a similar set of life circumstances and, therefore, are motivated to work together for equality (Johnson-Odim, 2001). Group standpoints, developing from power inequities, reflect existing power relationships and provide a sense of shared consciousness and group solidarity (Collins, 1998). If we deconstruct those groups, what might be the impact on these groups’ effectiveness in the struggle for justice? As Bohan (2002) asks, “How do we work toward gender or racial or sexual equality if we cannot define the groups whose equality we envision” (p. 84)?

5. Postmodern Feminist Perspectives and Families

Not surprisingly, one of the most controversial aspects of postmodern feminist approaches is the push to deconstruct the concept woman to reveal the rich diversity among “women” of different ethnicities, sexual orientations, socioeconomic levels, educational levels, or other identity categories. Such differences among women are often concealed when woman is monolithically constructed. However, the deconstruction that provides the more complex understanding of the heterogeneity among those categorized as women also may be perceived as fragmenting their experiences and identities, undermining the solidarity afforded by a cohesive group identity, and risking a slide into relativism that deemphasizes the imbalance of power between women and men (Baber & Allen, 1992; Harding, 1987; Hawkesworth, 1989). Postmodern feminism differs from liberal feminism in that it challenges the idea that women speak in a unified voice or that their situations can be universally addressed and takes the position that women will have different experiences requiring different responses depending on their own situatedness (Rosser, 2007). Postmodern feminist theories also differ from feminist standpoint theories with regard to identity politics, although both assume that all knowledge claims are socially situated (Harding, 2004). Feminist standpoint theory refers to an epistemology that is achieved through women’s shared struggles with social and political oppression. According to Harding, feminist standpoint projects are designed to value women’s experiences, produce knowledge for women, and suggest strategies for their empowerment. Hirschmann (2004) tries to find common ground between the two theories by claiming that feminist standpoint is “always already” a postmodern strategy. She claims that there must be a multiplicity of standpoints because gendered subjects occupy intersections of multiple categories across history, race, class, and culture. However, she also states that “without the subject ‘woman,’ regardless of how we define it, feminism cannot exist” (p. 330). Postmodern theories, in contrast, identify subjects themselves—women in this case—as outcomes, constituted through historical processes and in power relations (DiPalma & Ferguson, 2006; Gannon & Davies, 2007). Rather than asserting that the meaning of an event is constructed and women in different locations have differently constructed meanings, postmodern

63

theories with a strong constructivist base contend that the phenomena, as well as the meaning, are constructed (Bohan, 2002). Discourse shapes not only what we believe or know but also our overt behaviors and our subjective experiences. According to this postmodern approach, gender, race, sexuality, and class are not measurable qualities of individuals but are products of social interaction. It is the social exchange that generates the categorical identities, and therefore the differences, as well as the way that women experience themselves. Intersectionality further problematizes the entire process of group construction, diminishing the usefulness of group and structural analyses (Collins, 1998). By deconstructing the group women, or even the group Black women, to better understand the political and experiential situatedness of different women, we risk undermining the effectiveness of the larger group. There is evidence, however, that the perceived solidarity among women may be more illusion than reality (Bohan, 2002; Maynard, 2001; Johnson-Odim, 2001). Black feminists, for example, suggest that Black women may identify more with Black men than with White women. Similarly Erkut, Fields, Sing, and Marx (1996) suggest that though gender may be the principal site for negotiation and struggle for White girls, gender may not be the most salient issue for girls of color, culturally and linguistically different girls, and girls living in poverty. The key seems to be neither to dismiss nor to inflate the importance of various identity locations and the way they become significant in the production and reproduction of inequality (Lazreg, 2001). Gannon and Davies (2007) point out that some of these constructed categories have significant political power, and deconstructing them does not mean that they cannot be used strategically on behalf of those oppressed by these concepts even as we destabilize their “naturalness.” The both/and approach of postmodern feminism allows for the possibility of reflective use of gender and gender categories, for example, even as we resist the ways in which these categories are constructed and function. Another concern about postmodern feminism is the potential for this perspective to increase, rather than decrease, mystification about theorizing and therefore reduce its usefulness in reaching feminist goals. Dense language

64

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

and deconstructive strategies to destabilize meaning may make it look and sound as though we are “doing theory,” but they result in our work being inaccessible to most women and irrelevant to their everyday lives. The idea of integrating intersectionality into our feminist theory and practice is potentially even more problematic. For example, Few, Stephens, and Rouse-Arnett (2003) warn that we cannot wholly address the persistent matrix of intersectionality that Black women endure, succumb, and overcome if we . . . debate and deconstruct out of existence the “critical essences” (i.e., race, class, and gender) that matter to Black women’s existence and survival in this world. (p. 213)

Collins (1998) argues that despite its commitment to decentering traditional axes of power, postmodernism is essentially an academic theory that actually does very little to change existing power relations. Even worse, Collins claims that a depoliticized decentering disempowers Black women while maintaining an illusion of empowerment and providing relief to those who resist oppression in the abstract without decentering their own material privilege. Those of us who believe in the usefulness of postmodern approaches to disrupt and eliminate social inequities are challenged to make our work as accessible as possible, to ensure that our theorizing and research are moving us toward where we want to go, and to be sensitive to how we are using (or abusing) our own privilege. White feminists have additional work to do, because we need to problematize and theorize whiteness (Frankenberg, 1993). We must examine the institutionalized White privilege in our culture, question how and why White privilege is constructed and maintained, consider how it is directly expressed in our own lives, and determine how it can be disrupted and changed. There has been little attention to White privilege in postmodern feminist theory. White feminist discourse needs to be carefully scrutinized, so that we are not supporting a White or any other mentality. Although most feminists would not compare “White” and “non-White” groups in their work, it is still common for White feminists to write about “women of color” or “ethnic women,” excluding themselves as if whiteness is not a color and White women have no ethnicity.

Lazreg (2001) takes the position that the term women of color has gained currency among academic feminists as a way of recognizing differences among women but claims that it is a linguistic sleight of hand that recycles the old expression “colored women.” She contends that it is not minority and Third World women who impose the language of race, but rather it is those women who “implicitly claim to have no color and need to be the standard for measuring difference” (p. 284). We can counter the claims of elitism and irrelevance made against postmodern feminism by using our academic knowledge as a tool to link theory and praxis. Postmodern feminists can act as public intellectuals using their academic skills to critique repressive discourse and social systems and collaborate with other practitioners to bring about institutional change (Gannon & Davies, 2007). Deconstructing prevailing ideas, resisting dualistic thinking, and exposing restrictive boundaries as socially constructed can encourage people with whom we work and interact to think and act differently. By asking new questions that trouble routine ways of speaking, categorizing, and including or excluding, we can advocate for changes that make real differences in people’s lives and in our praxis as family scholars.

WORKING FORWARD The deconstructive aspects of postmodern approaches and the “deliberate unfinishedness of postmodern thinking” (DiPalma & Ferguson, 2006, p. 139) are inconsistent with the tradition of ending a discussion such as this with conclusions or a summary. Therefore this coda, or end piece, focuses on the possibilities and tensions of moving forward using postmodern feminist theories to revolutionize the ways we think about and investigate families and intimate relationships. Although such approaches share with other feminist theories the goal of reducing oppression and equalizing opportunities, the tools and underlying assumptions of postmodern feminist theories require researchers, teachers, and activists to think differently, to excavate the unexamined foundation of our taken-forgranted knowledge about the world, to raise questions that are rarely asked, and to risk the familiar for the uncertain. Postmodern feminist

5. Postmodern Feminist Perspectives and Families

approaches transgress boundaries and disrupt relationships that have come to seem normal and natural, so they tend to be controversial, even among feminists. However, postmodern feminist theories allow a more articulated analysis of socially constructed identities and relationships and provide innovative approaches to documenting and understanding contemporary society, even as we seek to disrupt the power relations that perpetuate inequalities. Johnson (1997) notes that patriarchy is our collective legacy and that there is little we can do about the historical condition but a lot we can do about what we pass on to the next generation. Tatum (1997) suggests that an important part of breaking the cycle of oppression is sharing what we know with those coming after us and helping youth explore and construct positive identities. However, with few exceptions (e.g., Diamond, 2006; Walker, 1995), adolescent development is basically untheorized in most feminist thinking, including postmodern feminist theories. By failing to include ideas about young people and the social construction of their identities, beliefs, and social relations in an intentional manner in our theories and activism, we miss important opportunities to encourage desired changes in the next generation (Baber, 2005). Postmodern feminist approaches can help us detect and build on indications that some youth already are “degendering” and actively blurring the boundaries between traditional gender and sexuality categories. Research with contemporary adolescents suggests that sexual behavior, identity, and orientation have already been delinked for some youth who reject cultural categorizations of themselves and their sexualities (Savin-Williams, 2005). Savin-Williams found that a number of young people engage in sexual activity with both males and females and create their own terms such as polygendered, omnisexual, multisexual, and trisexual to represent their gender and sexual identities. He claims that teenagers are increasingly redefining, renegotiating, and reinterpreting their sexuality so that old concepts are virtually meaningless and sexual diversity is normalized. More straight teens are acting and looking “gayish,” and there are increasing numbers of teens who defy categorization with traditional gender or sexual categories. In light of this, it is not surprising to learn that, among at least some urban adolescents, there has arisen a new, third-person singular

65

pronoun that is gender neutral. Researchers investigated the use of yo as a substitute for he, she, him, or her in several schools in Baltimore after teachers observed their students using the pronoun in casual conversation (Stotko & Troyer, 2007). Students used yo to refer to either a male or female individual—usually another student—and definitely used it as a pronoun rather than an attention-focusing device or a greeting. The fact that young people are spontaneously constructing new ways of referring to one another that are gender neutral suggests that exploring the deconstruction of gender and other identity categories with youth in a more systematic way may be informative as we develop strategies for the future. Postmodern feminist theories offer more possibilities for exploring topics such as this than do more modern feminist theories that focus on gender differences and attempt to reconfigure how we construct male and female or gay and straight. Postmodern feminism has focused primarily on the “liberatory costs and benefits of thinking gender differently” (DiPalma & Ferguson, 2006, p. 132), but deconstructive strategies can be employed with other identity categories such as race and class. Thinking differently about race and class and suggesting that these, too, are socially constructed means that there are costs and benefits to deconstructing these categories as well. Physical characteristics, geographic origin, and shared culture are often used to group people into “races,” but scientific evidence indicates that genetic differences between people of different “races” may be small and that what makes a person a member of a certain race differs across the globe (Bamshad & Olson, 2003). There is a lack of attention to social class generally in our theorizing, even when there is an explicit focus on diversity and multiculturalism (Lott, 2002). Lott maintains that there is widespread cognitive, interpersonal, and institutional distancing of the poor in our society and urges us to analyze the ways in which classist biases perpetuate inequities. Postmodern feminist theories do not prescribe certain methodologies. Whatever our methods, the expectation is that we do disruptive research that investigates “why are we asking this question?” and “how did this come to be?” (DiPalma & Ferguson, 2006, p. 137). Crawford and Kimmel (1999) urged that we seek methods that serve, not drive, our inquiry, using multiple methods,

66

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

transgressing disciplinary boundaries, and integrating historical, political, psychological, and economic analyses. In addition to collecting data, we want to create knowledge, make social judgments, and advocate for change. To do this, we need to do both basic and applied work, both quantitative and qualitative research. We also need to organize our work giving priority to research that can be used to document social inequities, advocate for social change, and provide guidance on how that change might best be accomplished. If we are to be successful in reaching the ultimate goal of feminist theory and research and improving the lives of women and their families, there needs to be explicit linkage among theory and praxis. Historically, there has been an asymmetry between theory and action, with feminist scholars and theoreticians often being privileged over activists and practitioners (Martin, 2000). Taking the linkages among theory/research/ practice seriously means that our research needs to go beyond understanding different women’s experiences based on their race-ethnicity, class, sexual orientation, or other identity categories, or the intersections of these categories, to deconstruct the power arrangements underlying all experiences of oppression. We need to challenge the categories and constructions of difference that are generated in everyday interactions in our society and focus on racism, sexism, heterosexism, classism, and other social relations that convert difference to oppression (Maynard, 2001). “Doing postmodern feminist theory,” in the sense of having it guide one’s work, is not easy. For example, when Corinna Jenkins Tucker and I attempted to develop an instrument to detect beliefs about social roles that were not gender linked, we found the lack of appropriate and accessible vocabulary to be an obstacle (Baber & Tucker, 2006). Youth can create new vocabulary to express innovative ideas, but this approach is less feasible in academic research. Similarly, doing research that considers intersecting identity categories is challenging, particularly research that does not privilege gender over other structures of dominance. De Reus et al. (2005) in their Sourcebook chapter and Few et al. (2003) in a recent Family Relations article provide many suggestions and recommendations for research. Although their focus was on transcending boundaries in research with Black women specifically, Few et al. provided useful

suggestions for “cross-cultural” research in general. They stress the importance of contextualizing the research by educating oneself as much as possible about the history and culture of participants, triangulating multiple sources of data, and carefully considering how data are analyzed and represented. They also raise the important issue of contextualizing oneself as a researcher in the process and being as aware as possible about the ways in which the intersection of identities in one’s own life affects, and transacts with, that of the participants in our research. Although postmodernism is frequently defined in opposition to modernism, particularly by critics, more recent formulations of postmodern feminism (e.g., DiPalma & Ferguson, 2006) move beyond a simplistic either/or approach. DiPalma and Ferguson construct postmodernism in a “fundamentally relational” manner, proposing that the concepts modern and postmodern “take their meaning and do their work within the implied or explicit relations they sustain to one another” (p. 128). For example, DiPalma and Ferguson explain that modern feminist thinking names gender as a category of analysis, identifies male dominance as oppression, and seeks to liberate women through societal reforms and transformations. Postmodernism “invites people to trespass on the modern” (p. 131), problematizes and dislocates gender, and focuses on the “doing of gender” or the “undoing of gender” rather than seeing gender as a persistent unified category. Theoretical perspectives are devices for guiding our thinking and providing an angle of view. Postmodern feminist approaches promise new and less fettered perspectives but require willingness on the part of researchers, scholars, teachers, and activists to ask difficult questions and live with a certain amount of tension and ambiguity. But as frequently happens in our society, once we summon the courage to move forward into new and unfamiliar territory, we may well find that couples, families, and particularly youth have gotten there before us, constructing and living new relationships and waiting for us, with our theories and research, to catch up.

REFERENCES Allen, K. R. (2000). A conscious and inclusive family studies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 4–17. Allen, K. R. (2005). Pushing the boundaries of the sourcebook. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. Dilworth-Anderson,

5. Postmodern Feminist Perspectives and Families & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 628–629). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Allen, K. R., & Baber, K. M. (1992). Ethical and epistemological tensions in applying a postmodern perspective to feminist research. Psychology of Women Quarterly, 16, 1–15. Baber, K. M. (1994). Studying women’s sexualities: Feminist transformations. In L. Leslie & D. Sollie (Eds.), Feminism and the study of family and close relationships: Conceptual and methodological issues in current research (pp. 50–73). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Baber, K. M. (2000). Women’s sexualities. In M. Biaggio & M. Hersen (Eds.), Issues in the psychology of women: An introductory text (pp. 145–171). New York: Plenum Press. Baber, K. M. (2005). Integrating youth into our feminist theory, research, and practice. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. Dilworth-Anderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 463–465). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Baber, K. M., & Allen, K. R. (1992). Women and families: Feminist reconstructions. New York: Guilford Press. Baber, K. M., & Murray, C. I. (2001). A postmodern feminist approach to teaching human sexuality. Family Relations, 50, 23–33. Baber, K. M., & Tucker, C. J. (2006). The social roles questionnaire: A new approach to measuring attitudes about gender. Sex Roles, 54, 359–367. Bamshad, M. J., & Olson, S. E. (2003, December). Does race exist? Scientific American, 289(6), 78–85. Bengtson, V. L., Allen, K. R., Klein, D. M., Dilworth-Anderson, P., & Acock, A. C. (2005a). Controversies and firestorms. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. DilworthAnderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 613–630). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Bengtson, V. L., Acock, A. C., Allen, K. R., Dilworth-Anderson, P., & Klein, D. M. (Eds.). (2005b). Sourcebook of family theory and research. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Blume, L. B., & Blume, T. W. (2003). Toward a dialectical model of family gender discourse: Body, identity, and sexuality. Journal of Marriage and Family, 65, 785–794. Bohan, J. S. (2002). Sex differences and/in the self: Classic themes, feminist variations, postmodern challenges. Psychology of Women Quarterly, 26, 74–88. Bordo, S. (1990). Feminism, postmodernism, and genderscepticism. In L. J. Nicholson (Ed.), Feminism/postmodernism (pp. 133–156). New York: Routledge. Butler, J. (2004). Undoing gender. New York: Routledge. Collins, P. H. (1998). Fighting words: Black women and the search for justice. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Crawford, M., & Kimmel, E. (1999). Promoting methodological diversity in feminist research. Psychology of Women Quarterly, 23, 1–6. De Reus, L. A., Few, A., & Blume, L. B. (2005). Multicultural and critical race feminisms: Theorizing families in the third wave. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. DilworthAnderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 447–468). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Diamond, L. M. (2006). Rethinking positive female adolescent sexual development. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. DiPalma, C., & Ferguson, K. E. (2006). Clearing ground and making connections: Modernism, postmodernism, feminism. In K. Davis, M. Evans, & J. Lorber (Eds.), Handbook of gender and women’s studies (pp. 127–145). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Erkut, S., Fields, J. P., Sing, R., & Marx, F. (1996). Diversity in girls’ experiences: Feeling good about who you are. In B. J. R. Leadbeater & N. Way (Eds.), Urban girls: Resisting stereotypes, creating identities (pp. 53–63). New York: New York University Press. Fenstermaker, S., & West, C. (2002). Doing gender, doing difference. New York: Routledge. Few, A. L., Stephens, D. P., & Rouse-Arnett, M. (2003). Sister-to-sister talk: Transcending boundaries and challenges in qualitative research with Black women. Family Relations, 52, 205–215. Flax, J. (1987). Postmodernism and gender relations in feminist theory. Signs, 12, 621–643.

67

Flax, J. (1990). Thinking fragments: Psychoanalysis, feminism, and postmodernism in the contemporary West. Berkeley: University of California Press. Foucault, M. (1978). The history of sexuality: An introduction (Vol. 1). New York: Vintage Books. Frankenberg, R. (1993). White women, race matters: The social construction of whiteness. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Fraser, N., & Nicholson, L. J. (1990). Social criticism without philosophy: An encounter between feminism and postmodernism. Feminism/postmodernism (pp. 19–38). New York: Routledge. Gannon, S., & Davies, B. (2007). Postmodern, poststructural, and critical theories. In S. N. Hesse-Biber (Ed.), Handbook of feminist research: Theory and praxis (pp. 71–106). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Gavey, N. (1993). Technologies and effects of heterosexual coercion. In S. Wilkinson & C. Kitzinger (Eds.), Heterosexuality (pp. 93–119). Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Harding, J. (1998). Sex acts: Practices of masculinity and femininity. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Harding, S. (1987). Introduction: Is there a feminist method? In S. Harding (Ed.), Feminism & methodology: Social science issues (pp. 1–14). Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Harding, S. (2004). The feminist standpoint theory reader: Intellectual & political controversies. New York: Routledge. Hare-Mustin, R. T., & Marecek, J. (1990). Gender and the meaning of difference: Postmodernism and psychology. In R. T. HareMustin & J. Marecek (Eds.), Making a difference: Psychology and the construction of gender (pp. 22–64). New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Hawkesworth, M. (1989). Knowers, knowing, known: Feminist theories and claims of truth. Signs, 14, 533–557. Hawkesworth, M. (2007). Truth and truths in feminist knowledge production. In S. N. Hesse-Biber (Ed.), Handbook of feminist research: Theory and praxis (pp. 469–491). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Hill, S. A. (2005). Black intimacies: A gender perspective on families and relationships. New York: Rowman & Littlefield. Hirschmann, N. J. (2004). Feminist standpoint as postmodern strategy. In S. Harding (Ed.), The feminist standpoint theory reader: Intellectual & political controversies (pp. 317–332). New York: Routledge. Ingoldsby, B. B., Smith, S. R., & Miller, J. E. (2004). Exploring family theories. Los Angeles: Roxbury. Johnson, A. G. (1997). The gender knot: Unraveling our patriarchal legacy. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Johnson-Odim, C. (2001). Who’s to navigate and who’s to steer? A consideration of the role of theory in feminist struggle. In M. deKoven (Ed.), Feminist locations: Global and local, theory and practice (pp. 110–126). New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Kimmel, M. (2000). The gendered society. New York: Oxford University Press. Knapp, S. J., & Williams, C. (2005). Where does queer theory take us? In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. Dilworth-Anderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 626–628). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Knudson-Martin, C., & Laughlin, M. J. (2005). Gender and sexual orientation in family therapy: Toward a postgender approach. Family Relations, 54, 101–115. Lather, P. (1991). Getting smart: Feminist research and pedagogy with/in the postmodern. New York: Routledge. Lazreg, M. (2001). Decolonizing feminism. In K. K. Bhavnani (Ed.), Feminism and racism (pp. 281–293). New York: Oxford University Press. Lorber, J. (2001). Gender inequality: Feminist theories and politics. Los Angeles: Roxbury. Lorber, J. (2006). A world without gender. In K. Davis, M. Evans, & J. Lorber (Eds.), Handbook of gender and women’s studies (pp. 469–474). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

68

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

Lott, B. (2002). Cognitive and behavioral distancing from the poor. American Psychologist, 57, 100–110. Martin, J. R. (2000). Coming of age in academe: Rekindling women’s hopes and reforming the academy. New York: Routledge. Maynard, M. (2001). “Race,” gender and the concept of “difference” in feminist thought. In K. K. Bhavnani (Ed.), Feminism and racism (pp. 121–133). New York: Oxford University Press. McKenna, W., & Kessler, S. (2006). Transgendering: Blurring the boundaries of gender. In K. Davis, M. Evans, & J. Lorber (Eds.), Handbook of gender and women’s studies (pp. 342–353). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Oswald, R. F., Blume, L. B., & Marks, S. R. (2005). Decentering heteronormativity: A model for family studies. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. DilworthAnderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 143–165). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Parpart, J. L., & Marchand, M. H. (2001). Exploding the canon. In K. K. Bhavnani (Ed.), Feminism and racism (pp. 516–534). New York: Oxford University Press. Risman, B. J. (1987). Microstructural perspective: Men who mother. Gender & Society, 1, 6–32.

Rosser, S. V. (2007). The link between theory and methods. In S. N. Hesse-Biber (Ed.), Handbook of feminist research: Theory and praxis (pp. 223–256). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Savin-Williams, R. C. (2005). The new gay teenager. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Scott, J. W. (1994). Deconstructing equality-versus-difference: or, the uses of poststructuralist theory for feminism. In S. Seidman (Ed.), Social postmodernism: Beyond identity politics (pp. 282–298). New York: Cambridge University Press. Stotko, E. M., & Troyer, M. (2007). A new gender-neutral pronoun in Baltimore, Maryland: A preliminary study. American Speech, 82, 262–279. Tatum, B. D. (1997). “Why are all the Black kids sitting together in the cafeteria?”and other conversations about race. New York: Basic Books. Walker, R. (1995). To be real. New York: Random House. West, C., & Zimmerman, D. (1987). Doing gender. Gender & Society, 1, 125–151. White, J. M., & Klein, D. M. (2007). Family theories (3rd ed.). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Willetts, M. A. (2003). An exploratory investigation of heterosexual licensed domestic partners. Journal of Marriage and Family, 65, 939–952.

6 TRANSNATIONAL INTERSECTIONALITY A Critical Framework for Theorizing Motherhood R AMASWAMI M AHALINGAM S UNDARI B ALAN K RISTINE M. M OLINA

F

eminist scholars have critiqued representations of women that valorize women’s roles as mothers and privilege the primacy of motherhood as a defining feature of being a woman (Bohan, 1993). These scholars have challenged such essentialist constructions of women by illuminating the relationship between the hegemony of patriarchal privilege (i.e., the internalization of privileged status of men) and cultural images of motherhood as being central to women (e.g., Mahalingam & Leu, 2005). However, such critiques primarily reflect the experiences of White middle-class women in the United States (De Reus, Few, & Blume, 2005). Racial-ethnic scholars have argued that the experiences of women of color provide a critical vantage point to challenge this Eurocentric bias in the way “women’s” experiences are viewed, articulated, and constructed in the United States (Crenshaw, 1995).

The experiences of women of color have become particularly significant given the unprecedented and widespread global movement of women from developing countries to the First World. Displacement brings many challenges to the study of women’s lives because it not only disrupts families but also forces displaced women to reconfigure their identities, power relations, and resources in a new social milieu. Several feminist family studies researchers have pointed to the need to recognize the multicultural voices and experiences of women and to challenge essentialist, homogeneous, and Eurocentric normative approaches to study gender and families (see De Reus et al., 2005, for an excellent review). Many critical theorists have argued that looking at the lived experiences of women in the context in which their lives are embedded will be critical to deconstruct various binaries that essentialize women’s experiences (Alexander & Mohanty,

69

70

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

1997; Kim, 2007; Lindio-McGovern, 2005; Mendez & Wolf, 2007). Specifically, globalization and movement of women of color have also brought into sharp focus the increasing disparities in the lived experiences of First and Third World women due to increased contacts between these women (Lindio-McGovern, 2005). As Mendez and Wolf (2007) have pointed out, “Gender has been an integral part of globalization; globalization is gendered and gender ideologies are globalized” (p. 652). These shifts in gender arrangements pose new challenges for feminist family scholars as they work to problematize the continued marginalization of Third World women and study the experiences of these women across borders and in the developed world without reifying gender through binarisms such as local/global (Kim, 2007; Lindio-McGovern, 2005; Mendez & Wolf, 2007). In this chapter, we extend this critical feminist scholarship in family studies as we examine the heterogeneity in the experiences of transnational mothers in a variety of social spheres. As meat factory workers, as domestic laborers, and as women who accompany children as study mothers, economic and social pressures have created an impetus for the movement of women, physically severing ties with their families or husbands and homelands. Yet these women have used this transnational space to evolve newer and creative modes of motherhood that challenge Western hegemonic assumptions about motherhood (e.g., intensive mothering, where mothers are constantly engaged with their children; traditional family structure consisting of couples and children). These experiences of women transcend class boundaries (e.g., economically disadvantaged domestic workers, upper-class astronaut families) and need to be examined through an intersectionality framework that provides a unique lens for understanding the contours of transnational motherhood. We propose transnational intersectionality as a theoretical framework to examine the construction and experience of motherhood and families in the transnational space. Our chapter flows as follows. We draw on social marginality theory (Mahalingam, 2006) to put in perspective the experience of women within global movement and immigration. Next, we discuss the relevance of intersectionality and social

marginality frameworks for understanding the construction of transnational motherhood as we introduce “transnational intersectionality” as our own framework for feminist family studies. We then provide an overview of research on transnational families. Finally, we present examples of the application of transnational intersectionality to understanding the experience of transnational families, particularly focusing on transnational motherhoods and the psychological well-being of transnational mothers from different social locations.

INTERSECTIONALITY AND SOCIAL MARGINALITY Feminist family theorists have critiqued monolithic constructions of the lived experiences of women within families, arguing for the need to look at the multiple, interlocking, and simultaneous effects of race, class, ethnicity, nation, and sexuality on how women experience gender (De Reus et al., 2005). Crenshaw (1995) proposed an intersectionality framework to analyze how the race-gender-class axis provides a unique lens to gain a deeper understanding of women’s lives than the one offered by focusing exclusively on race, gender, or class. The intersectionality perspective is useful to circumvent the creation of hierarchies among marginalized groups that privilege the most marginalized group (a tendency Martinez, 1993, calls the “Oppression Olympics”—see also Hancock, 2007a; McCall, 2005). This perspective also allows us to look at the ways in which various social identities and their respective social locations together affect how women make sense of their lives (Hancock, 2007b). An intersectional approach provides fresh insights that may not be adequately examined by unitary approaches to the study of gender. For example, Zhou (2000) compared shifts in gender role negotiation of upper-middle-class and working-class Chinese immigrant women in New York. After migration, gender relations in the family changed by class location and in response to social mobility. Zhou observed that over time, many middle-class Chinese immigrant women accepted a shift from an egalitarian gender arrangement prior to immigration to a situation where their status and ability to make

6. Transnational Intersectionality

financial decisions were greatly diminished by the social and career mobility of their husbands. In contrast, working-class Chinese immigrant women, by virtue of their ability to contribute to family income, gained more power in the family decision-making process after migration. Understanding gender at the intersection of social class provided new insights into the diverse pathways to acculturation for these Chinese immigrant women from different social locations. Research on social marginality suggests that the power differentials associated with different social identities embedded in their respective social locations play a critical role in how marginalized social groups construct, reconfigure, and negotiate their identities (Park, 1928). A social marginality perspective examines the complex ways in which individuals in marginalized social locations negotiate the demands of dominant cultural norms and expectations while asserting their own marginalized social identities (Antonovsky, 1956; Green, 1947; Mahalingam, 2006; Stonequist, 1935; Weisberger, 1992). Mahalingam and Leu (2005) integrated research on social marginality with intersectionality perspectives on gender in their analyses of mail-order-brides’ self-descriptions and Indian women programmers’ narratives. These researchers noted that an intersectional awareness, at times, contributed to the reification and reproduction of essentialist representations of gender at various social locations. For example, marginalized group members, particularly immigrant and refugee women, internalized idealized representations of gender that characterize racial-ethnic women as more family oriented and morally superior to “White” women (Balan & Mahalingam, 2008; Espiritu, 2001; Mahalingam & Leu, 2005). However, these constructions could be viewed as a strategy to negotiate the social positioning of immigrant and refugee women in a new culture that portrays them either as exotic or traditional and subjugated by men in their own “culture” (Ong, 1999). Such binary constructions of gender in popular culture also contribute to a cultural milieu where gender becomes a critical site for the construction of a positive idealized gendered ethnic identity. Such constructions affect immigrant

71

women’s lives within the transnational family context in complex ways.

CONTOURS OF TRANSNATIONAL MOTHERHOODS IN A GLOBAL WORLD: A TRANSNATIONAL INTERSECTIONALITY PERSPECTIVE Pessar and Mahler (2003) have argued (see also Mahler & Pessar, 2001) that the transnational movement of women needs to be understood in relation to the geographies of power in which their lives are embedded. Geographies of power entail the following: (a) “geographic scale” (i.e., the construction of gender ideologies simultaneously in multiple transnational spaces); (b) social location (i.e., the power relationship among various socially defined subjectivities); and (c) “power geometries” (i.e., the various modes in which people express their agency). The cultural and sociopolitical dimensions of power—that is, cultural capital— constrain and enable these women to maintain, create, and sustain various kinds of transnational familial ties that are shaped by the intersections of class, ethnicity, and the sociopolitical particularities of their inhabited transnational spaces. Such coordinates define a wide range of possibilities for the construction and practice of transnational motherhoods. Extending the notion of geographies of power to the study of transnational motherhood, we argue that power, class, culture, and demographic factors (e.g., age and marital status) shape the construction of transnational motherhoods within families. According to Landolt and Da (2005), the context of immigration is a critical factor in changing the nature of transnational family configurations. In a comparative study of Chinese professional immigrants and El Salvadoran immigrant women, Landolt and Da have argued that migration— the broader institutional contexts of “host” and “native” countries in which the transnational families are anchored—has a major impact on the families, and their “propensity to experience spatial ruptures, the character of these longdistance relationships and family members’ ability and willingness to negotiate and manage their personal lives across borders” (p. 626).

72

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

Cultural Narratives

Transnational Motherhoods

Social Marginality

Motherhood Ideals

Context of Migration

Motherhood Practices

Psychological Well-Being of Transnational Mothers and Children

Motherhood Resilience Social Class

Figure 6.1

Transnational Intersectionality: A Critical Framework for Theorizing Motherhood

Various constituents of social location, such as social marginality, social class, the context of immigration, and cultural narratives, influence the construction of transnational motherhoods (Mahalingam, 2006). Integrating a social marginality perspective and Pessar and Mahler’s (2003) theory of gendered geographies of power, we propose a transnational intersectionality perspective to study motherhoods in transnational space (see Figure 6.1). Cultural narratives that valorize motherhood, social marginality, the context of migration, and social class influence the production of transnational motherhoods. Women’s constructions of transnational motherhood have the following key features: (a) idealized beliefs about motherhood, (b) motherhood resilience, and (c) motherhood practices. All three features together shape the psychological well-being of transnational mothers and their children. Idealized motherhood refers to representations of motherhood constructed by transnational mothers that discursively position them in contrast to mothers from the dominant group or the women who are their employers. Such idealized representations of motherhood have multiple functions. They enable immigrant women to resist, challenge, and transcend dominant representations of their identities. Furthermore, personal and cultural narratives provide cultural affordances that enable displaced mothers to make sense of their identity as

mothers and to interpret the salience of their long-distance mothering (Mahalingam, 2007a, 2007b). For instance, in a study of Indian immigrant women professionals, Balan and Mahalingam (2008) found that first-generation Indian immigrant women professionals in the United States construct a narrative of their motherhood that discursively positions Indian immigrant women as better mothers than American mothers. Ideals serve as cultural beacons that guide these women to forge their identities as mothers and professionals, enabling them to valorize their identities as mothers and professionals who are “superior” or “better” than women from the dominant group. Moreover, Balan and Mahalingam found that for these women, different aspects of social marginality positively related to idealized representations of motherhood. In effect, the more the immigrant women perceived discrimination, the more they idealized their beliefs about motherhood. In another study, Latino immigrant women also constructed a narrative of their motherhood as shaped by Latino culture as morally superior to that of the dominant European American group (Villenas, 2005). Thus, intersections of marginalized social location, cultural narratives, age, and class contribute to idealized representations of motherhood in the transnational space. While motherhood ideals provide a positive sense of self and boost the self-esteem of transnational mothers, they also contribute to

6. Transnational Intersectionality

the pressure to uphold the idealized beliefs and practices about motherhood. Although having a sense of competence as a mother is a lifelong developmental process, motherhood resilience (i.e., one’s perceived ability to successfully navigate the demands of motherhood) influences the enactment of motherhood practices in significant ways. While motherhood as a representation guides the everyday practices of being a mother, motherhood resilience buffers the pressures that result from the need to uphold idealized representations of motherhood—ones that are superior to the dominant social group (Balan & Mahalingam, 2008). A superior transnational mother is someone who is expected to be competent and to respond to the emotions, needs, and behaviors of the child in responsible and caring ways that are better than the mothers from the dominant group. While transnational mothers internalize these ideals to a differing degree, they also assert their identity as mothers in a newfound transnational and multicultural space. This discursive positioning of motherhood in relation to the dominant group profoundly affects the enactment of transnational motherhoods. This positioning is especially significant for transnational mothers who left their children behind to care for other people’s children, with a hope of building a better future for their own. Various aspects of motherhood resilience interact with these idealized representations and practices of transnational motherhood— including one’s sense of competence and purpose as a mother, tempered by individual difference factors such as optimism, problemsolving skills, self-efficacy, and John Henryism, a measure of personal coping where individuals strive hard to overcome obstacles (see James, 1994). These individual difference factors also shape how transnational mothers cope with the pressure to uphold their idealized representations of motherhood. The relationship between ideals, resilience, and motherhood practices influences the psychological well-being of transnational mothers and their children (see Figure 6.1). If internalized, idealized representations of motherhood may prevent these women from seeking help or building a social support network that improves their psychological wellbeing (Mullings, 2005). For example, women who score high on their perceived competence

73

as mothers will be high on measures of subjective well-being, such as life satisfaction, and low on depression and anxiety. Endorsing a sense of idealized motherhood may also negatively relate to help seeking. In a study of middle-class African American women in Harlem, New York, Mullings (2005) found that those who believed in the “strong Black woman” ideal did not build a strong supportive network and tried hard to manage the demands of work and family by themselves, leading to greater stress in their lives. Mulling calls this phenomenon Sojourner Syndrome (Mullings & Wali, 2000). Endorsing idealized representations of motherhood in these ways has both positive and negative consequences. We theorize that individual difference factors, such as help seeking, personal coping (James, 1994), and problem-solving skills, mediate the relationship between ideals, resilience, practices, and psychological well-being.

MOTHERHOOD TRANSCENDING BORDERS: TRANSNATIONAL MOTHERHOODS Bryceson and Vuorela (2002) define transnational families as “families that live some or most of the time separated from each other, yet hold together and create something that can be seen as a feeling of collective welfare and unity, namely ‘familyhood’ even across the national borders” (p. 3). Transnational familial arrangements occur all around the globe. In the United States, for example, the social mobility of middle-class American women who were entering the paid workforce created a vacuum in various domestic and occupational spheres that were “traditionally” occupied by middle-class White women (Ehrenreich & Hochschild, 2002). Such social shifts increased the number of jobs for immigrant women as domestic helpers or as seasonal migrant workers. Similar demographic shifts in social affluence and labor demand also characterize several other countries, such as Hong Kong, Taiwan, Israel, and many Middle Eastern nations. These countries become attractive destinations for domestic work for women from many developing countries, such as the Philippines, Sri Lanka, India, Trinidad, and Jamaica (Yeoh & Huang, 2000). Women participate in mothering in a transnational space for a variety of reasons. They feel obligated to better the lives of their

74

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

children, and in order to create better educational and economic opportunities for their families, they decide to be transnational mothers and reconfigure their representations of motherhood in a variety of ways. For some, their motherhood is spatially ruptured where they have limited physical contact with their children (Landolt & Da, 2005). For others, motherhood becomes exclusive parenthood where women are forced to be fathers as well as mothers for their children, and conjugal relationships are redefined by specific transnational parameters (e.g., “parachute” kids, where children travel to the United States seeking better elementary or high school education, with their mothers trotting across the globe alternating between their children and their spouses (see Ong, 1999; Zhou, 1998). Similar dynamics have produced transnational fatherhoods as well, which constitutes a small and emerging body of research (Bustamante & Aleman, 2007; Lam, Yeoh, & Law, 2002; Taylor & Behnke, 2005). In this chapter, however, we will focus only on transnational mothers. In the following sections, using our proposed transnational intersectionality framework, we review research on two different transnational motherhood dynamics: mothers who move with their children and mothers who leave their children behind. We explore how idealized representations of motherhood enable these two groups of transnational mothers to cope with the demands of their respective transnational arrangements. These two contrasting vantage points illustrate the complex dimensions of being a transnational mother and its impact on the psychological well-being of transnational mothers and children. Marital Sacrifice and Astronaut Families When Hong Kong came under the rule of mainland China, many immigrants from affluent families brought their children to the United States and Canada. Mothers often stayed with their children, while their husbands went back to work in Hong Kong, visiting their families periodically across the globe (Ong, 1999; Waters, 2005). Such astronaut families, where husbands (and, at times, wives) are shuttling between two continents, became more common among upper-middle-class families from Taiwan and Hong Kong. Recently, countries such as Australia have also become destinations for these immigrants

(Pe-Pua, Mitchell, Iredale, & Castles, 1996), and some astronaut families are also located in Taiwan, while husbands work in mainland China (Hsiu-Hua, 2005). Helping their children enter high-prestige universities was a major goal of transnational families from Taiwan, Hong Kong, and China (Pe-Pua et al., 1996; Waters, 2005). Everyday parenting practices and the children’s lives were geared toward reaching the goal; for example, mothers worked with their children late in the evenings helping them with their homework. Even in summers, the children were sent to private tutoring sessions known as tuition classes. Waters (2005) has noted that the transnational family arrangements consolidate the accumulated cultural capital of the family such that the next generation of children could acquire the skills to succeed in high-pressure academic environments that build on the sacrifices of their parents. Such transnational arrangements affect the normative expectations of a “unifocal” familial arrangement in the new country as well as back home. Transnational mothering transforms existing gender arrangements and power relations. Most women reported feeling lonely and noted slight downward shifts in their class statuses. They realized how hard it was to maintain big suburban houses in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada (Waters, 2002). They had to work hard to maintain the semblance of a nuclear family where they have to assume the roles of both father and mother. Often they also worried about their own marital relationship and feared how the lack of intimacy with their husbands would affect their lives. However, the view that sacrificing one’s personal needs in lieu of building a better future for their children revalidated their idealized representations of their marriage and motherhood in the transnational space. Transnational mothers also at times felt lonely when their adolescent children did not share their lives with them. Building a supportive social network with other astronaut families helped them cope with the demands of single parenthood in a new land. These transnational mothers also did not like to build ties with Chinese immigrant families from mainland China for fear of presenting themselves as astronaut families. E-mails and other technologies helped these women keep in touch with their husbands (Waters, 2002).

6. Transnational Intersectionality

Different social locations and transnational arrangements affected how transnational mothers viewed their roles. Some sensed positive changes in their marital relationships. Pe-Pua et al. (1996) found that in their study of astronaut families in Australia, the separation from spouses actually made some couples appreciate each other more. Some of the following quotes illustrate these sentiments: We miss one another and treasure one another more. I think we learn to respect one another more. We both know we are all doing this for the sake of kids and family. I feel he respected me more now. There are less arguments now. (p. 54)

In contrast, in her study of Taiwanese astronaut families, Hsiu-Hua (2005) found that some Taiwanese astronaut wives sensed that their husbands might seek intimacy with “other” women when they worked for an extended period in mainland China. Taiwanese astronaut wives coped with the emotional and physical infidelities of their husbands in a variety of ways. Some women chose not to think about it. Others were more discreet and even left a package of condoms while packing their husband’s clothes when they returned to work in mainland China. They also constructed a narrative account that legitimized their status as wives. Their discursive account of the “Chinese mistresses” highlighted the temporary nature of their husbands’ liaisons with Chinese women with an expectation that as wives they would always come first in matters of importance. Such cognitive boundary maintaining through binaries such as wife versus mistress helped these women cope with the realities of their intimate lives in the transnational space. However, for most of the women, over time the freedom as the independent head of the family, coupled with their success in handling the demands of single parenthood in a new culture, provided them a sense of accomplishment and gave them a newfound meaningful identity as heads of astronaut families. By and large, these women saw their separation from their spouses as temporary and necessary to create better educational opportunities for their children (Pe-Pua et al., 1996). They also looked forward to eventual reunification with their husbands. They hoped to rebuild a relationship that would be more egalitarian, interdependent, and respectful of each other. One woman noted, “When my husband is around

75

I feel more centered and have someone to share” (Pe-Pua et al., p. 55). Another woman remarked how the nature of the marital relationship may revert back to old days where the husbands were accepted as the boss of the house (Pe-Pua et al.). Thus, the astronaut family structure illustrates how educated, upwardly mobile families from Taiwan and Hong Kong constructed a transnational family where traditional notions of mother/wife were reread, reconfigured, and reverted back over time. Unlike the expatriates from upper-middleclass backgrounds, Huang and Yeoh (2005) studied a new group of astronaut families from mainland China, called “study mothers,” who moved to Singapore to be with their children who were in high school or in college. The number of study mothers in Singapore has been steadily increasing. Many of the women in their study were well educated and held good jobs in mainland China. Singapore’s immigration policy only allows women to migrate with children to attend school (Huang & Yeoh). These study mothers were typically from a middle-class background, and they sacrificed their marital relationship to provide a better education for their children. They constructed a narrative about the importance of their “sacrifice” to realize their transnational project of educating their children to find their “place” in the global competitive world. One of the participants talked about the sacrifices made by study mothers as follows: “I say Chinese study mothers are the noblest of all. Their [the mothers’] youth, it’s not theirs. . . . The golden years have all been given to the child” (p. 391). Huang and Yeoh noted that these women, unlike their Western counterparts who could become citizens and had greater flexibility in moving between their transnational destinations, remained in Singapore as sojourners. These mothers were allowed to accompany their children to go to school in Singapore and could stay and work during the duration of their children’s education. Unlike the elite parachute kids and children from astronaut families, children of study mothers faced major hurdles in the educational system because of their poor English language skills and the relative lack of cultural capital to navigate the demands of a metropolitan multicultural society such as Singapore. Study mothers worked very hard to help their children overcome these challenges.

76

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

Leaving Children Behind: Domestic Servants as Transnational Mothers Hondagneu-Sotelo and Avila (1997), in their study of transnational motherhood, noted the emotional turmoil and guilt experienced by women who left their children behind to work for a long time in other countries as domestic maids or to care for other people’s children. Thousands of women from Latin American countries, the Philippines, Sri Lanka, Indonesia, and Malaysia, go to a wide range of countries to work as maids, domestic servants, or nannies (Constable, 2002; Hondagneu-Sotelo & Avila, 1997; Yeoh & Huang, 1999). Ehrenreich and Hochschild (2002) explain the dynamic of such migration: In the absence of help from male partners, many women have succeeded in tough “male world” careers only by turning over the care of their children, elderly parents, and homes to women from the Third World. This is the female underside of the globalization, whereby millions of Josephines from poor countries in the south migrate to do the “women’s work” of the north— work that affluent women are no longer able to or willing to do. These migrant workers often leave their children in the care of their grandmothers, sisters, and sisters-in-law. Sometimes, a young daughter is drawn out of school to care for her young siblings. (pp. 2–3)

This pattern of female migration is also not confined to one small particular community in a country. These women migrants substantially contribute to the economy of their home country through remittances. For example, between the years 1990 and 1994, the remittance from Filipino migrant workers amounted to $4.8 billion (Parrenas, 2002) and the Philippine government called them “the new economic heroes.” In the later part of the 20th century, Asian countries such as Singapore, Hong Kong, and Taiwan have become strong economies in Asia, attracting women from countries such as Malaysia, Indonesia, and Sri Lanka to work as domestic servants (Yeoh & Huang, 1999). Constable (2002) examined the experiences of Filipino maids in Hong Kong. She found several examples of cordial relationships between the maids and employers, as well as examples of several prescribed practices that restricted the agency of the maids. For example, maids were given a list of things they had to do on the “rest day” that were not included or described in their

contracts (Constable). Often Filipino maids were not allowed to wash their own clothes along with those of their employers and their children. Despite various restrictions and constraints, these women continued to work and care for their employers’ children. These transnational mothers tried their best to be long-distance mothers to their own children. They called regularly, sent presents, and kept track of the changes in the lives of their children (Parrenas, 2001). Although they were far away, they asserted their right to scold and discipline their children over the phone. Based on her field study of Filipina migrants in Rome and Los Angeles, Parrenas identified several strategies to construct as well as to cope with the demands of long-distance mothering. Some women talked about their conscious decision to put their loneliness aside. Others rationalized their separation as a necessary sacrifice for providing a better education for their children at home. Some tried to compensate for their absence by sending many material goods: All the things that my children needed I gave to them and even more because I know that I have not fulfilled my motherly duties completely. I feel guilty because as a mother I have not been able to care for their daily needs. So because I am lacking in giving them maternal love, I fill that gap with many material goods. (p. 372)

Others missed the intimacy with their children. As narrated by one of the participants, longdistance mothering could be, at times, an emotionally heart-wrenching experience: Sometimes when I receive a letter from my children telling me that they are sick, I look up out the window and ask the Lord to look after them and make sure that they get better even without me around to care after them. (Starts crying.) If I had wings, I would fly home to my children. Just for a moment, to see my children and take care of their needs, help them, then fly back over here to continue my work. (Parrenas, 2001, p. 371)

Filipina mothers also struggled to stay connected to their children, embodying a transnational version of “intensive mothering” (Hays, 1996) from afar. Thus, these mothers did not completely abandon their maternal responsibilities to their family members. Filipina mothers gave

6. Transnational Intersectionality

the responsibility of managing family accounts to their adolescent children while still micromanaging the family finances. Mothers also provided nutritional advice for their children (“no MSG; it gives migraine headaches”) and even planned the menu for the week from a distance by calling at an appointed time on Sunday every week. In a study of domestic maidservants in Singapore, Lam, Yeoh, and Law (2002) found that Malaysian Chinese migrant workers worried about their children being alienated from them; they also felt the need to comfort and care for their children. One woman felt that the separation was unbearable and tendered her resignation after a month. Some families came up with creative solutions to transnational parenting. In two families, fathers took care of the older independent children in Singapore and mothers took care of the younger children in Malaysia. Being a transnational parent, while caring for other people’s children, was a difficult decision for these women. Some women displaced their love and affection on the young children they cared for to the point where the mothers of the children were jealous that their children developed stronger emotional bonds with the maids than with them (Yeoh & Huang, 1999). At times, the maids engaged in practices at work that subtly reminded their employers—the working mothers—about the importance of assuming their motherly role right away when they returned home after work. Such subtle shifts in their everyday practices shaped the migrant domestic workers’ need to protect and validate their idealized image of their motherhood. In a study of maids from eastern Indonesia, Williams (2005) found that these women used culture as a defense to rationalize any conflict and tension between them and employers as “misunderstanding.” These women also justified their migration and the act of leaving their children behind by reframing their role as “provider,” which fit within the local cultural framework of femininity. Landolt and Da (2005) studied the predicaments of El Salvadorian women who migrated to the United States, leaving their children with their extended family members. These women maintained contact with their children through frequent letters and comfort packages they sent home. Using her research on Honduran transnational families, Schmalzbauer (2008)

77

found that Honduran youth who were left behind realized that their mothers may have to live as migrant workers forever in order to maintain their class mobility and status. Like the Salvadorian mothers, Honduran women did not share their stories of struggles in the new culture to protect their children from worrying about them. Most of them used “familyby-phone” strategies whereby the parents used phone calls to keep track of their children’s homework and to monitor their behavior. Thus, telephone calls were the glue that tied these transnational families together. Transnational Mothering and Psychological Well-Being of Mothers and Children Transnational families challenge us to rethink Western notions of mother-child separation and its impact on the psychosocial development of children as well as the psychological well-being of mothers and the children. So far, only a handful of studies have looked at the impact of transnational parenting on the psychosocial development of children and youth who were left behind or joined later with their parents (Fouron & Glick-Shiller, 2001; Orellana, Thorne, Chee, & Lam, 2001; Parrenas, 2001, 2002, 2005; Schmalzbauer, 2008; Smith, Lalonde, & Johnson, 2004; Waters, 2005). The impact of separation and long-distance mothering on psychosocial development is complex and shaped by various transnational intersections. Orellana et al. (2001) found that Hispanic transnational children actively participated in helping their parents cope with various emotional strains and conflicts of migration and, thus, changed the nature of their childhood itself. Schmalzbauer (2008) found that Honduran children and youth report that their parents have a lot of influence on their lives. The young people also wanted their parents to continue to work in the United States because they hoped to join their parents once they graduated. They seemed to be well-adjusted. Caribbean youth from Haiti who grew up in a transnational household were able to use their “transnational social field” to construct a transnational cultural space appropriating their bicultural experience to construct a new sense of community (Fouron & Glick-Schiller, 2001). In contrast, a retrospective study of children of Caribbean immigrants from transnational

78

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

households in Toronto found that serial migration (i.e., parent arrives first and children arrive later) had long-term consequences of lower self-esteem and disrupted parent-child relationships (Smith et al., 2004). A few studies on Filipina transnational children suggest a more complex picture. Although the children and youth with transnational mothers were well-adjusted, infrequent visits from their mothers did influence their psychosocial development (Parrenas, 2001, 2002, 2005). These children recognized the sacrifices of their parents but also demanded that their own sacrifices in not having a close relationship with their mothers be recognized. They disagreed with their mothers that commodities would substitute for love or missed intimacy, especially when the mother could afford to visit them only every 4 years. Return of migrating mothers was a recurrent theme in many children’s writings (Parrenas, 2001). Although close kinship ties ameliorated the separation of mothers, youth from transnational households wanted their struggles to be acknowledged by their mothers. Children and adolescents from transnational households in the Philippines actively participated in maintaining intimacy with their mothers. We suspect that this may be because their chances of visiting their mothers in the United States or Hong Kong were very low. In contrast, the children from astronaut families needed to adjust only to the frequent absence of their fathers. These children reported a closer relationship with their mothers over time, despite the fact that their mothers were demanding and had high educational expectations (Waters, 2005). These examples show the complex trajectories of psychosocial development of children in transnational households. We have reviewed a variety of formations and practices of transnational motherhood. The transnational intersections have influenced women’s ability to negotiate, enact, and express their idealized representations of motherhood from afar. They adopted a variety of strategies to cope with their feelings of guilt and emotional turmoil from the pressures of their idealized beliefs about motherhood. Since these women were socialized to uphold the values of being a mother, to varying degrees they also used these representations to cope with the economic realities of their displacement. Nonetheless, they tried to maintain a veneer of being an ideal

mother or wife through their long-distance parenting or “long-distance spousing” (as in the case of astronaut families) and to draw strength from their personal growth and self-efficacy to successfully negotiate the demands of being a transnational family. All mothers viewed their separation as a sacrifice for the betterment of the lives of their children. Some even redefined their main “breadwinner” role as a “caregiver” of the family to make it appear acceptable within the cultural norms of being a woman. Our proposed transnational intersectionality perspective helps us study how intersections of marginalized social location, culture, contexts of migration, and social class together influence the production of transnational motherhoods and the various trajectories of psychosocial development of their children and the psychological well-being of transnational mothers. Globalization and asymmetries in women’s educational and occupational mobility across the world create newer forms of “families” in a transnational space that often enable women from developed countries to successfully pursue their careers because women from developing countries could supplant their caring obligations. Transnational mothers use the representations of a “good mother” and “good wife” to their advantage while simultaneously acting in ways that assert their agency in the new situation. For instance, the study mothers valorized their marital separation as characteristic of a noble Chinese mother while simultaneously learning new social skills to successfully run a family in a new country. Over time, many study mothers and women in astronaut families gained more equality in their marital relationships (Pe-Pua et al., 1996). In contrast, the transnational mothers who were domestic workers found ways to exercise their agency in their everyday interactions with their employers. Unlike the women in astronaut families, they had more contact and less power in their relationship with their employers. They found complex ways to assert their identities as domestic workers and mothers. Thus, intersections of class, ethnicity, nationality, and gender create newer forms of family arrangements where transnational mothers need to find new ways to represent, redefine, and enact transnational motherhoods and cope with the demands and stressors of the new transnational arrangement. A critical feminist family studies approach is

6. Transnational Intersectionality

pertinent to understand how globalization shapes motherhood in various social locations and how it affects the lives of families across transnational spaces (Kim, 2007; LindioMcGovern, 2005; Mendez & Wolf, 2007).

CONCLUSIONS We proposed a transnational intersectionality perspective to study families in a transnational context because intersectionality challenges the essentialist and monolithic representations of gender and the construction of motherhood. Arendell (2000) reviewed research on motherhood and called for the need to recognize the heterogeneity in the construction and practice of motherhoods. In this chapter, we reviewed a variety of transnational motherhoods to understand the lives of mothers who moved to a developed country either to work or to run a single household for providing better educational and economic opportunities for their children. Research on motherhood needs to go beyond looking at the nuclear family in different “cultures” and examine the complexities of transnational motherhood. These representations of motherhood challenge our essentialist notion of middle-class and nuclear households as the norm to study and understand family processes and child development. Representations of transnational mothers disrupt essentialist notions of “mother” and “family.” They portray a complex picture of motherhood in a transnational space where individual difference factors, such as one’s ability to construct a social network, cope, and problem solve from long distance greatly contribute to successful realizations of living close to one’s idealized representation of motherhood. Various types of transnational motherhoods also illustrate newer forms of maternal affiliations and sentiments that redefine the role of mothers who manage long-distance mothering/spousing at times by strategically appropriating essentialist representation of gender that are salient in their sociocultural milieu. Future research should examine the costs and benefits of negotiating the pressures of internalizing idealized representations of motherhood in terms of their physical and psychological well-being so that we can identify the cultural, social, and psychological antecedents to motherhood resilience

79

and psychological well-being of transnational mothers and children. Since these women’s contributions to the welfare of families are bidirectional—they are caring for someone else’s children to provide the means for other people to care for their own children—their contribution to both ends need to be understood and studied. Our proposed transnational intersectionality perspective provides a useful starting point to develop a feminist family studies framework to study how transnational contexts shape various family processes with its distinct focus on power and social marginality to understand the various kinds of representations and enactment of motherhood by women from differing social locations.

REFERENCES Alexander, M. J., & Mohanty, C. T. (1997). Feminist genealogies, colonial legacies, democratic futures. New York: Routledge. Antonovsky, A. (1956). Toward a refinement of the “Marginal Man” concept. Social Forces, 35, 57–62. Arendell, T. (2000). Conceiving and investigating motherhood: The decade’s scholarship. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 1192–1207. Balan, S., & Mahalingam, R. (2008). Being “Good Asian moms”: Preliminary investigations into the psychological contours of the model minority stereotype for Asian Indian Tamil speaking immigrant women in the US. Manuscript submitted for publication. Bohan, J. S. (1993). Regarding gender: Essentialism, constructionism, and feminist psychology. Psychology of Women Quarterly, 17, 5–21. Bryceson, D., & Vuorela, U. (2002). The transnational families in the twenty-first century. In D. Bryceson & U. Vuorela (Eds.), The transnational family: New European frontiers and global networks (pp. 3–30). Oxford, UK: Berg. Bustamante, J. J., & Aleman, C. (2007). Perpetuating split-household families: The case of Mexican sojourners in mid-Michigan and their transnational fatherhood practices. Migration Internationals, 4, 65–86. Constable, N. (2002). Filipina workers in Hong Kong homes: Household rules and relations. In B. Ehrenreich & A. R. Hochschild (Eds.), Global woman: Nannies, maids and sex workers in the new economy (pp. 115–142). New York: Metropolitan Books. Crenshaw, K. W. (1995). Mapping the margins: Intersectionality, identity politics, and violence against women of color. In K. W. Crenshaw, N. Gotanda, G. Peller, & K. Thomas (Eds.), Critical race theory: The key writings that formed the movement (pp. 359–383). New York: New Press. De Reus, L., Few, A. L., & Blume, L. B. (2005). Multicultural and critical race feminisms: Theorizing families in the third wave. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. DilworthAnderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 447–468). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Ehrenreich, B., & Hochschild, A. R. (2002). Introduction. In B. Ehrenreich & A. R. Hochschild (Eds.), Global woman: Nannies, maids and sex workers in the new economy (pp. 1–14). New York: Metropolitan Books. Espiritu, Y. (2001). “We don’t sleep around like White girls do.” Family, culture and gender in Filipina American lives. Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society, 26, 415–440.

80

PART I. FEMINIST THEORY AND FAMILY STUDIES

Fouron, G. E., & Glick-Schiller, N. (2001). The generation of identity: Redefining the second generation within a transnational social field. In H. Cordero-Guzman, R. C. Smith, & R. Grosfoguel (Eds.), Transnationalization and race in a changing New York (pp. 58–86). Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Green, A. W. (1947). A re-examination of the marginal man concept. Social Forces, 26, 167–171. Hancock, A. (2007a). Intersectionality as normative and empirical paradigm. Politics & Gender, 3, 248–254. Hancock, A. (2007b). When multiplication doesn’t equal quick addition: Examining intersectionality as a research paradigm. Perspectives on Politics, 5, 63–79. Hays, S. (1996). The cultural contradictions of motherhood. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Hondagneu-Sotelo, P., & Avila, P. E. (1997). “I am here but I am there”: The meanings of Latina transnational motherhood. Gender & Society, 11, 548–571. Hsiu-Hua, S. (2005). The first “Taiwanese wives” and the “Chinese mistresses”: The international division of labor in familial and intimate relations across the Taiwan Strait. Global Networks, 5, 419–437. Huang, S., & Yeoh, B. S. A. (2005). Transnational families and their children’s education: China’s “study mothers” in Singapore. Global Networks, 5, 379–400. James, S. A. (1994). John Henryism and the health of AfricanAmericans. Culture, Medicine, and Psychiatry, 18, 163–182. Kim, H. S. (2007). The politics of border crossings: Black, postcolonial and transnational feminist perspectives. In S. N. Hesse-Biber (Ed.), Handbook of feminist research: Theory and praxis (pp. 107–122). Thousand Oaks CA: Sage. Lam, T., Yeoh, B. S. A., & Law, L. (2002). Sustaining families transnationality: Chinese-Malaysians in Singapore. Asian Pacific Migration Journal, 11, 117–143. Landolt, P., & Da, W. W. (2005). The spatially ruptured practices of migrant families: A comparison of immigrants from El Salvador and the People’s Republic of China. Current Sociology, 53, 625–653. Lindio-McGovern, L. (2005). Transnational feminism and globalization: Bringing third world women’s voices from margin to center. In R. P. Applebaum & W. I. Robinson (Eds.), Critical globalization studies (pp. 333–347). New York: Routledge. Mahalingam, R. (2006). Cultural psychology of immigrants: An introduction. In R. Mahalingam (Ed.), Cultural psychology of immigrants (pp. 1–14). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Mahalingam, R. (2007a). Culture, power and psychology of marginality. In A. Fuligni (Ed.), Contesting stereotypes and creating identities: Social categories, social identities, and educational participation (pp. 42–65). New York: Russell Sage. Mahalingam, R. (2007b). Beliefs about chastity, machismo, and caste identity: A cultural psychology perspective. Sex Roles, 56, 239–249. Mahalingam, R., & Leu, J. (2005). Culture, essentialism, immigration and representations of gender. Theory & Psychology, 15, 841–862. Mahler, S. J., & Pessar, P. (2001). Gendered geographies of power: Analyzing gender across transnational spaces. Identities, 7, 441–459. Martinez, E. (1993). Beyond Black/White: The racisms of our times. Social Justice, 20, 22–34. McCall, L. (2005). The complexity of intersectionality. Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society, 30, 1771–1800. Mendez, J. B., & Wolf, D. L. (2007). Feminizing global research/globalizing feminist research. In S. N. Hesse-Biber (Ed.), Handbook of feminist research: Theory and praxis (pp. 651–662). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Mullings, L. (2005). Resistance and resilience: The sojourner syndrome and the social context of reproduction in Central Harlem. Transforming Anthropology, 13, 79–91.

Mullings, L., & Wali, A. (2000). Stress and resilience: The social context of reproduction in Central Harlem. New York: Kluwer Academic. Ong, A. (1999). Flexible citizenship: The cultural logics of transnationality. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Orellana, M. F., Thorne, B., Chee, A., & Lam, W. S. E. (2001). Transnational childhood: The participation of children in processes of family migration. Social Problems, 48, 572–591. Park, R. E. (1928). Human migration and the marginal man. American Journal of Sociology, 33, 881–893. Parrenas, R. S. (2001). Mothering from a distance: Emotions, gender, and intergenerational relations in Filipino transnational families. Feminist Studies, 27, 361–390. Parrenas, R. S. (2002). Care crisis in the Philippines: Children and transnational families in the new global economy. In B. Ehrenreich & A. R. Hochschild (Eds.), Global woman: Nannies, maids and sex workers in the new economy (pp. 39–54). New York: Metropolitan Books. Parrenas, R. S. (2005). Long distance intimacy: Class, gender and intergenerational relations between mothers and children in Filipino transnational families. Global Networks, 5, 317–336. Pe-Pua, R., Mitchell, C., Iredale, R., & Castles, S. (1996). Astronaut families and parachute children: The cycle of migration between Hong Kong and Australia. Canberra, Australia: Australian Government Publishing Service. Pessar, P., & Mahler, S. (2003). Transnational migration: Bringing gender in. International Migration Review, 37, 812–846. Schmalzbauer, L. C. (2008). Family divided: The class formation of Honduran transnational families. Global Networks, 8, 329–346. Smith, A., Lalonde, R., & Johnson, S. (2004). Serial migration and its implications for the parent-child relationship: A retrospective analysis of the experiences of the children of Caribbean immigrants. Cultural Diversity and Ethnic Minority Psychology, 10, 107–122. Stonequist, E. E. (1935). The problem of marginal man. American Journal of Sociology, 41, 1–12. Taylor, B. A., & Behnke, A. (2005). Fathering across the border: Latino fathers in Mexico and the U.S. Fathering, 3, 99–120. Villenas, S. (2005). Latina mothers and small town racisms: Creating narratives of dignity and moral education in the North America. Anthropology & Education Quarterly, 32, 3–28. Waters, J. L. (2002). Flexible families? “Astronaut” households and the experiences of lone mothers in Vancouver, British Columbia. Social & Cultural Geography, 3, 117–134. Waters, J. L. (2005). Transnational family strategies and education in the contemporary Chinese diaspora. Global Networks, 5, 359–377. Weisberger, A. (1992). Marginality and its directions. Sociological Forum, 7, 425–446. Williams, C. P. (2005). “Knowing one’s place”: Gender, mobility and shifting subjectivity in Eastern Indonesia. Global Networks, 5, 401–417. Yeoh, B. S. A., & Huang, S. (1999). Singapore women and foreign domestic workers: Negotiating domestic work and motherhood. In J. H. Momsen (Ed.), Gender, migration and domestic service (pp. 273–296). New York: Routledge. Yeoh, B. S. A., & Huang, S. (2000). “Home” and “away”: Foreign domestic workers and negotiations of diasporic identity in Singapore. Women’s Studies International Forum, 23, 413–429. Zhou, M. (1998). “Parachute kids” in Southern California: The educational experience of Chinese children in transnational families. Educational Policy, 12, 682–704. Zhou, Y. (2000). The fall of “the other half of the sky”? Chinese immigrant women in the New York area. Women’s Studies International Forum, 23, 445–459.

PA R T I I FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “T HE FAMILY ”

7 GENDERED BODIES IN FAMILY STUDIES A Feminist Examination of Constructionist and Biosocial Perspectives on Families C ONSTANCE L. S HEHAN C HRISTINE E. K AESTLE

T

he family is an embodied institution. The functions it fulfills, as well as the behaviors and emotions that emerge from individual families, center on biological processes that occur in and through human bodies. Sexuality, procreation, parenting, and family caregiving are all accomplished through bodies. Moreover, bodies—and families, as a result—are gendered. Thus, body-centered biological explanations for human family behaviors have occasionally been invoked in research and scholarship in family studies (see, for instance, Booth, Carver, & Granger, 2000; Popenoe, 1996; Rossi & Rossi, 1990; Udry, 2000; Waite & Gallagher, 2001). However, by far the most common theoretical perspectives taken by feminist family scholars who focus on body-centered processes are postmodernism and social constructionism (Crawley, Foley, & Shehan, 2007; Lorber & Moore, 2007). The purpose of this chapter is twofold: first, to briefly examine ways in which feminist scholars

in the social and behavioral sciences have approached family-related behavior that is body-centered; and second, to examine ways in which feminist scholars could more fully integrate biological research on family-related behaviors. We do not wish to rehash the old “nature versus nurture” debate that is provoked by biologically based theories of gendered behavior. Feminist scholars—though often accused of fiercely resisting any “objective” evidence that gender differences can be traced to biological/physiological factors (see, for instance, Udry, 2001)—have gone far beyond this simplistic approach to understanding sex/gender. In this chapter, we briefly review some of the basic premises of biosocial research in its various forms and enumerate some common criticisms of the research methods and the application of findings to human behavior. We identify the contributions that feminist scholars have made to understanding body-related family behaviors 83

84

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

pertaining to procreation. We conclude the chapter with an extended discussion of an interactional model of biological, environmental, and behavioral factors that shape gendered family-related patterns.

Fausto-Sterling’s Sexing the Body, 2000, for a fuller explication). We discuss the contributions of feminist scholarship to family studies in more detail later in this chapter. Sociobiology: Bugs, Apes, and Humans Are Hardwired

BIOLOGICAL EXPLANATIONS FOR GENDERED BEHAVIOR IN FAMILIES Biological explanations of human behavior have appeared frequently in the social sciences, emerging in the late 19th century along with Darwinian theories of evolution. The exemplar of 20th-century biologically based social theory on gendered behaviors in families, of course, was Talcott Parsons’s attribution of men’s and women’s family roles (the instrumental and the expressive, respectively) to biological imperatives and the need for social order and stability: In our opinion, the fundamental explanation for the allocation of the roles between the biological sexes lies in the fact that the bearing and early nursing of children establishes a strong presumptive primacy of the relation of mother to the small child, and this, in turn, establishes a presumption that the man, who is exempted from these biological functions, should specialize in the alternative instrumental functions. (Parsons & Bales, 1955, p. 23)

Parsons’s structural-functional explanation of the gender-based division of labor in families dominated sociological discourse for decades in spite of feminist criticisms. Starting in the 1970s, feminist challenges to structural functionalist perspectives on gender and families began to take hold. A fundamental paradigm shift occurred when feminist scholars adopted the term gender roles to distinguish between biological and cultural influences (Connell, 1999). Most recently, of course, the emphasis has shifted from gender roles to gender as a dimension of social structure and/or as a societal institution itself (Martin, 2004; Risman, 1998). Moreover, the once “clear cut” differentiation between biological sex and sociocultural gender has been blurred. The influence of cultural expectations about male and female bodies can clearly be seen, for example, in the medical response to intersexed infants, where culture literally can transform bodies (see Anne

The driving intellectual force behind contemporary research on the biological basis of human behavior has been sociobiology. The term sociobiology was introduced by entomologist Edward O. Wilson in his 1975 book, Sociobiology: The New Synthesis. Wilson and other adherents of this perspective argue that most social behaviors, of humans and other animals, have survived over long periods of time as a result of natural selection to ensure reproductive success (Holcomb & Byron, 2005). The fields of sociobiology and its derivative, evolutionary psychology, are huge, as are the published critiques of both fields. Thus, it is impossible to do a comprehensive overview in this chapter. Instead, we will review some of the major conclusions with regard to gendered behavior related to families and intimate relationships and the evidence supporting those conclusions. According to sociobiology, all human traits and behavioral tendencies, including those presumed to be associated with masculinity and femininity (such as dominance and aggression among males, nurturance among females, the maternal instinct, rape, and the double standard of sexual conduct), are genetically determined. Over thousands of years, human males and females have developed different mating strategies, which may “explain” why men are more likely than women to be “promiscuous” and women are more likely to be “monogamous.” (These gendered sexual behavioral patterns among humans are taken for granted.) The ideal reproductive strategy for females is to be selective about their sexual partners, choosing males who show the most promise to stay with them to help during pregnancy and child rearing. This will increase their infants’ chances of survival. The most advantageous reproductive strategy for males, on the other hand, is to mate with as many healthy and fertile females as possible, making only limited commitments to any particular female. In this way, males increase their chances of passing on their genes to subsequent generations (Wilson, 1975; Dawkins, 1989).

7. Gendered Bodies in Family Studies

From Ants and Other Insects to “Man” Most sociobiological research has been based on nonhuman animals. Indeed, many studies have focused on insects. Edward Wilson, for instance, studied wasps, and the widely cited zoologist Randy Thornhill (1980) has studied scorpion flies, focusing on their mating behavior. Many sociobiological studies are replete with anthropomorphic descriptions (i.e., terms typically used to describe human behavior applied to descriptions of nonhumans) of males’ and females’ intentions, preferences, and the like. For example, Thornhill uses anthropomorphic language in his descriptions of two successful mating strategies used by male scorpion flies. One involves males offering females dead anthropods (which he calls “nuptial gifts”) before mating. The other involves mating without the proffer of dead insects (which Thornhill refers to as “rape”). Thus, Thornhill extends the human concept of rape (mating without mutual consent) to scorpion flies. Thornhill and Craig Palmer (2000) extended the earlier work on scorpion flies’ mating behaviors to human males in A Natural History of Rape: Biological Bases of Sexual Coercion. Thornhill and Palmer argue that among humans as well as other animals, rape is a sexual act with a sexual motivation that has evolved as a reproductive strategy for men to pass their genes on to as many offspring as possible. In televised interviews about the book, Thornhill took it on himself to warn women that they should not dress provocatively or go out alone at night if they wish to protect themselves against rape. Sociobiologists’ apparent advocacy of genetic determinism among humans provides “scientific evidence” that problematic behaviors such as male aggression are unavoidable and that we should simply resign ourselves to the inevitable. While sociobiologists view humans as just another species of animal, their critics view humans as different from animals and separate from “nature” (Holcomb, 1993). Thus, a major criticism of sociobiology is its heavy dependence on animal studies (particularly those involving species that are genetically far removed from humans, such as insects and rodents) for information about human behavior. For many critics (see Rose, Kamin, & Lewontin, 1985), using data drawn from observations of

85

scorpion fly or vole (a small rodent) mating habits as a basis for explaining rape among humans, for instance, seems illogical and unacceptable. Sociobiologists argue, in response, that studies of primates (animals that closely resemble humans) are valuable because they provide evidence about human behavior in its more “natural” state; that is, primate behavior resembles human behavior before it was contaminated by the artificial restraints of culture. From Primates to “Man” Even if sociobiologists restricted their observations to the animals closest to humans in genetic structure, variation among primates makes it possible to selectively use a particular species that is known to exhibit sex-dimorphic behavioral patterns that parallel those found among humans. Sometimes the researchers’ own preconceptions influence their choices of which primate species to observe in order to draw conclusions about humans. Sociobiologists have tended to select primate species in which males are dominant and aggressive and to ignore those in which females are assertive or dominant. Male rhesus monkeys, for instance, show little interest in newborns and even act viciously if infants approach them. Thus, if we relied on studies of rhesus monkeys to instruct us on the evolution of human males’ parenting abilities, we might mistakenly conclude that male humans are “by nature” poor fathers. However, if we observed other primates—perhaps owl monkeys or marmosets—we would draw different conclusions. Among these primate species, males often carry infants most of the day, handing them over to their mothers only for nursing (Tavris & Offir, 1984, pp. 133–134). A similar dilemma results in regard to sexual “promiscuity.” In some primate species, males do mate with numerous females; but in others, both sexes mate with only one partner. Among other species, such as chimpanzees, females have multiple partners. During their period of sexual receptivity, female chimps may mate 50 times in one day. Thus, if we only observed chimpanzees, we might mistakenly conclude that females (humans as well as primates) are genetically programmed to be promiscuous and that culture has unnaturally restricted them from acting on their natural instincts (Tavris & Offir, 1984, p. 135). Although animal studies are provocative,

86

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

they must be interpreted with caution, especially when they are offered as proof of the genetic basis of gender differences among humans. Evolutionary Psychology and “Man the Hunter”: Evidence From Foraging Societies The most recent incarnation of sociobiology is evolutionary psychology, which builds on animal studies and then adds speculation about how pressures on early humans drove the evolution of (presumptively genetically programmed) behaviors that we see today. Evolutionary psychologists have argued that because early human males had to hunt large animals and fight threats from other human groups, the evolutionary process of natural selection favored males who were stronger, faster, more aggressive, and competitive. In comparison, those early human females who had effective nurturing abilities had an advantage in the evolutionary process (Wilson, 1975). Thus, evolutionary psychologists argue that contemporary gender roles have evolved from early human history, when males provided food, through group hunting activities, and protected pregnant and lactating women (and their children) who were immobilized by their bodily conditions (Buss, 1995). One critical shortcoming of this approach is that we do not know with certainty—and perhaps never will—what gender roles and relationships were like among our prehistoric ancestors. Anthropologists and archaeologists developed the “man-the-hunter” theory decades ago, based on very limited evidence (see, e.g., Lee & DeVore, 1968). Interestingly enough, their reconstruction of this period of human prehistory closely resembles the highly gendered society in which they lived and worked; the predominantly male scholarly community of the time offered an androcentric (i.e., malecentered) perspective on the prehistoric origins of human civilization. In addition to “explaining” contemporary gendered behavior, this theory has traditionally attributed all things believed to be uniquely human to the ancient male hunting role. Males are assumed to have developed the first human tools in order to slay and process meat obtained by killing large animals in communal hunts. Language and cooperation also developed out of these communal hunting activities of males. Feminist archaeologists and anthropologists

have asked where women fit into this scenario. Anthropologist Ruth Bleier (1984), for instance, noted that “women were at the edge, placidlooking, holding babies, squatting by the fire, stirring the contents of a pot” (p. 116). In the early stories, women had no part in this evolutionary tale other than to bear the next generation of big-game hunters. Feminist archaeologists and anthropologists have developed an equally plausible reconstruction of early human history that increases the attention given to women’s roles in subsistence activities. This reconstruction moves women from the periphery of life to share the center with men. It therefore has profound implications for the division of family and household labor in contemporary societies. They note that the plant materials women gathered constituted at least 70% of the diet consumed by the earliest human groups. This suggests that “woman the gatherer” rather than “man the hunter” was the major provider (Dahlberg, 1981). Feminist reconstructions of early human history posit that women were technological innovators, as well, rather than mere observers of males’ development and use of tools. Females created baby slings and food carriers—crafted from organic materials such as vines, human hair, and eggshells—to allow them to care for infants while searching for food. They created digging sticks, another early human tool, to pry termites and tubers out of trees or under the soil. Feminist archaeologists have also suggested that human language and cooperation were as likely to have emerged from mother-child bonds as from all-male hunting groups (see Tavris & Offir, 1984). We may never know which of these alternative explanations of early human life is the more accurate portrayal. The value of feminist reconstructions is that they challenge the predominant view that women have always been dependent on men for protection and provision and that the “traditional” White, middle-class male-centered family of mid-20th-century America evolved from our earliest history. Behavioral Endocrinology and Gender Medicine also has a long history of biological determinism (Ehrenreich & English, 2005), which has most recently manifested as an ideology of hormonally driven gendered

7. Gendered Bodies in Family Studies

behavior. These beliefs have permeated into our subconscious and are expressed when people speculate that a woman is in “that time of the month” or that a man has “testosterone poisoning.” As psychologists Joan Chrisler and Paula Caplan (2002) have noted, Women’s hormones have been compared to the dangerous elixir that Dr. Jekyll produced in his Victorian-era laboratory. Like Jekyll’s elixir, the hormones of the menstrual cycle are said to have the power to turn a normally placid and nurturing woman into an enraged menstrual monster who can ruin her career, drive away her family, and perhaps, even endanger the future of Western civilization. (p. 275)

The biology of the menstrual cycle is fairly straightforward. The social and cultural significance associated with menstruation (at least in many “Western” cultures), however, has exploded into a profitable medical industry that represents it as a “psychiatric disorder that requires pharmacological treatment” (Chrisler & Caplan, 2002, p. 275). There’s really no “safe” status for women in regard to menstruation. Those who are menstruating are viewed as a potential pollutant in many cultures; those who are “premenstrual” are seen as erratic; and those who have stopped menstruating are regarded as drab, lifeless, and unattractive. The cultural belief that premenstrual women are erratic and even dangerous legitimates the restriction of women’s opportunities in society. There is some evidence that anxiety and depression in women are associated with hormonal fluctuations, but it is possible that these moods are associated, at least in part, with negative attitudes toward menstruation. Most Americans believe that menstruating women are emotionally unstable and difficult to live with. Many also believe that menstruation affects a woman’s ability to think or to function normally during her menstrual periods, that menstruating women look different, should restrict their activities, and should not engage in sexual intercourse (Golub, 1992; Jurgens & Powers, 1991; Markens, 1996). Although medical researchers have been studying women’s hormonal cycles, especially premenstrual syndrome (PMS), for more than 70 years, they still do not clearly understand the causes or consequences of the more than 150 symptoms that are widely believed to be associated with the female hormonal cycle. Nor have

87

they been able to estimate the number of women who experience PMS. In large part, this is because there is no widely accepted definition of PMS (Chrisler & Caplan, 2002). Researchers have not been studying male hormonal cycles for as long as they have studied female cycles. Testosterone was first identified less than 75 years ago (Freeman, Bloom, & McGuire, 2001). Testosterone levels in men’s blood fluctuate on a daily basis as well as in longer cycles ranging from several days to several weeks. Testosterone levels have long been correlated with aggression in various studies (Giammanco, Tabacchi, Giammanco, Di Majo, & La Guardia, 2005), but recent research suggests that the causal pathway may be much more complex than traditionally believed—testosterone does not consistently cause aggression in all situations. For example, in a study of 54 men with abnormally low testosterone levels, Christina Wang (1996) and her colleagues found that high levels of “edginess,” irritability, and anger were more common. When testosterone levels in these men were raised to the normal range, their negative feelings gave way to a sense of optimism and friendliness. “Inherent” Biological Sex and Intersexed Individuals Sex chromosomes and hormones do, indeed, play a critical role in the physical development of male and female embryos. While we try to simplify nature by creating dichotomous sex/gender categories based on chromosomes and hormonal characteristics, neither biological sex nor cultural gender is truly dichotomous (see, e.g., Crawley et al., 2007). There are actually four different markers for biological sex: chromosomes, hormones, gonads (internal sex organs), and genitals (external sex organs). For most individuals, these four markers are consistent with each other and with the designation of either “male” or “female.” Occasionally, however, these markers of sex are inconsistent (FaustoSterling, 2000). Just how common is intersexuality? Biologists have estimated that it occurs in less than 2% of all births (Fausto-Sterling, 2000). In some parts of the world—such as among certain groups of Eskimos—the incidence of intersexuality is even higher. Intersexuality appears to be on the rise because of environmental pollutants that mimic estrogen.

88

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

When doctors are faced with the birth of an intersexed baby, they typically feel compelled to “correct” the situation—to restore the baby to what they think nature intended it to be. They go through several steps to determine into which sex category the baby best fits. They look first at the baby’s chromosomal makeup. If it has two X chromosomes, they start with the assumption that it should be female. They next look at the baby’s internal sex organs. If it has two ovaries rather than an ovary and a testis, it is categorized as a genetic female. In this situation, doctors typically advise parents to raise the baby as a girl. Babies who are born with an X and a Y chromosome (said to be characteristic of a genetic male) can be raised as either boys or girls, depending on the size of their external genitals. Remember that in utero, male and female fetuses have tissues that can develop into either a penis or a clitoris. Doctors must be convinced that an infant’s external genitals are capable of developing into a penis that will be able to engage in vaginal penetration during heterosexual intercourse in maturity in order to recommend that the baby be raised as a male. There is a normative “measuring stick” used to determine whether a baby’s external sex organ is long enough to develop into a functioning penis. Those that are less than 2 centimeters are regarded as incapable of developing into a functioning penis and are typically surgically altered into a clitoris and vagina. Doctors advise parents of these infants to raise the child as a female. In the case of intersexed infants, then, social and cultural factors are an important factor in interpreting the “meaning” of body parts (FaustoSterling, 2000; Kuhnle & Krahl, 2002).

FEMINIST RESEARCH ON GENDER AND REPRODUCTION The crux of explanation in evolutionary psychology rests on human striving for reproductive success; that is, gendered human behavior is explained in terms of the innate drive for reproductive success. Feminist family social scientists also examine human reproduction but from a very different perspective: One of the most significant contributions of feminist scholarship has been the ongoing analysis of human procreation. From valuing the lived

experiences of a pregnant woman to analyzing the proliferation of high-tech innovations for getting pregnant and the medicalization of childbirth, feminism offers critical insights into the social aspects of a seemingly natural process. (Lorber & Moore, 2007, p. 29)

Family sociologist Janet Lee (2008) argues that “bodily changes, such as those occurring at menarche (and menopause), are interpreted and experienced through a series of bodily ‘repertoires’ embedded in families and other social institutions that reflect cultural meanings and values” (p. 1325). In this chapter, we briefly review selected research on body-centered processes and events related to reproduction. Menarche The beginning of menstruation (menarche) is a fairly straightforward biological process. It is, however, a culturally scripted physiological event that has important implications for a girl’s sense of herself and her world. It shapes gender identity, triggers the policies associated with being an adult female in a society that devalues women, and provides an opportunity for the negotiation of new configurations of family relationships. (Lee, 2008, p. 1325)

Lee’s research over the years has clearly documented the interplay of cultural and biological aspects of this embodied domain of gender-related family behavior (Lee, 1994; Lee & Sasser-Coen, 1996). In her most recent study, she found that mothers who are “emotionally connected” to their daughters are able to mitigate feelings of shame and humiliation associated with the discourses of menstruation in contemporary culture (Lee, 2008). Menopause and Hysterectomy Recent feminist research has found that some women regard menopause—reproductive aging— to be an inconsequential or even positive experience. On menopause, they do not feel old. Menopause represents “good aging” (Dillaway, 2005) in spite of the fact that it is a bodily representation that they have lost their ability to reproduce.

7. Gendered Bodies in Family Studies

Women who have undergone hysterectomies create a “hormonal hierarchy” based on the portion of their ovaries that are retained. Even though ovaries (or portions thereof) that remain after gynecological surgery may not actually produce physiological benefits, women place great symbolic value on them as the source of feminine “normalcy,” reflecting cultural understandings that female hormones are the essential determinants of sexual difference. “The interweaving of social constructionist and biological perspectives in (women’s) narratives helps to elucidate the complicated interaction between the material body and the social body” (Elson, 2003, p. 750). Giving Birth Feminist research that uses a social constructionist approach to women’s birth experiences shows the complex interplay between bodies, emotions, the mind, and the self. Women who are giving birth do not experience their bodies as separate entities, as biomedical approaches often presume (Houvouras, 2004). Cultural expectations about women’s psychological “nature” are also reflected in the way in which women experience childbirth (Miller, 2007). Karin Martin’s (2003) research, for instance, revealed that White, middle-class, heterosexual women often worry about being nice, polite, kind, and selfless in their interactions during labor and childbirth, reflecting their internalized sense of gendered expectations and the extent to which these “discipline” their bodily experiences. Breastfeeding The meaning of breasts in contemporary American culture is contested, with the view of “breasts as maternal” juxtaposed against a view of “breasts as sexual organs.” (See FaustoSterling, 2000, for instance.) As a result, breastfeeding, particularly in public, is viewed with great ambivalence. Cindy Stearns’s (1999) work, for instance, shows that women are acutely aware of these contested images of “the breast” and construct their own meanings of breastfeeding. Their self-evaluations of their mothering performance reflect the ways in which they have reconciled cultural expectations about breastfeeding with their own needs and preferences.

89

CURRENT ISSUES AND APPROACHES Family Studies Research on Gender Differences and Biosocial Explanations Relatively few articles published in the family journals over the past decade have used biological frameworks to address gendered behaviors in families. In 2000, Alan Booth and his colleagues wrote a review encouraging family researchers to consider the application of biosocial perspectives and described techniques for assessing biological indicators. In 2005, Journal of Marriage and Family (JMF) published another article, by Booth, Johnson, and Granger, that found that husbands’ testosterone was linked to marital quality but only played a significant role when it was interacting with husbands’ role overload. This biosocial model conditioned the effects of testosterone on social context. JMF has also published articles in which biologically based measurements were used not as predictors but as a response to social situations, such as using cortisol to examine how husbands and wives respond physiologically to marital conflict (Loving, Heffner, Kiecolt, Glaser, & Malarkey, 2004). Although there have been a few examples of biosocial models in JMF over the past several years, these models have not played a major role in recent JMF publications. While we have not observed the extensive penetration of biosocial models into family studies that was predicted by Booth et al. (2000), an article by Udry in American Sociological Review in 2000, titled “Biological Limits of Gender Construction,” did spur vigorous debate. The purpose of the article was to show “how sex differences in hormone experience from gestation to adulthood shape gendered behavior” (p. 443). Specifically, using a theory developed from rhesus monkeys, Udry examined the impact of exposure to prenatal hormones on a group of 163 White females from before birth (in the period 1960 to 1963) until age 27 to 30. He found that both mothers’ prenatal hormones and mothers’ encouragement of femininity were associated with the gendered behaviors of their young adult daughters. He concluded that exposure to high levels of prenatal testosterone effectively immunized daughters to the effects of their mothers’ feminine socialization efforts and that biological processes determine gendered predispositions of individuals that constrain

90

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

socialization effects. Udry claimed that his resulting model provides support for a biosocial theory of interactions that “is the scientific antidote to both biological determinism and environmental determinism” (p. 444). The attempt to bridge the wide communication gap between the biological and psychosocial disciplines is to be commended, as is his recognition of the importance of mutual interaction between behavior and biology. Udry’s ASR article generated considerable debate. Three rebuttals were published in 2001. The critiques focused primarily on Udry’s guiding theoretical framework, his definition and operationalization of “gendered behavior,” and the social and political implications of his findings (Kennelly, Merz, & Lorber, 2001; Miller & Costello, 2001; Risman, 2001). Udry’s theoretical framework seems to imply that biological influences can be isolated from social influences, and his presentation of results appears to come down squarely on the side of the biological limits on behavior (Kennelly et al., 2001). Sociologists Miller and Costello (2001) labeled Udry’s perspective as “neuroendocrinological determinism” and criticized the speculated mechanism (that prenatal hormones most likely influence the structure of the brain or perhaps the sensitivity of parts of the brain to adult androgens). They argued that small variations in brain morphology are not sufficient to explain gendered inequalities in wage levels or division of household labor, since they are mediated by sociocultural factors. The critiques also charged that Udry ignored 30 years of sociological research on gender in ways that resulted in serious conceptual flaws in his argument to an extent that left his conclusions vulnerable to dismissal (Risman, 2001). One final criticism levied against Udry by Kennelly and her colleagues (2001) is that while he claimed to take a neutral stance, his concluding statements belie this stance: Humans form their social structures around gender because males and females have different and biologically influenced behavioral dispositions. Gendered social structure is a universal accommodation of this biological fact. . . . If (societies) depart too far from the underlying sex-dimorphism of biological predispositions, they will generate social malaise and social pressures to drift back toward closer alignment with biology. (Udry, 2000, p. 454)

Despite the stir caused by the Udry article and critiques in the American Sociological Review, biosocial models have not played a large role in the family studies literature. Clearly, the field of family studies recognizes a series of inequities between men and women, and researchers in this field strive to uncover factors behind these inequities. Biosocial approaches ask us whether these inequities and differences are caused in some substantial way by an “essential” physical difference between men and women. When we hypothesize that these inequities are caused by biological factors, we are in essence hypothesizing that genetic differences have caused behavioral differences that have resulted in different roles for men and women in our society. Do men and women actually exhibit radically different behaviors, and are these behaviors responsible for different sex roles and inequities in power, or are they perhaps responses to different sex roles and power? Over the past few years, a considerable amount of research has focused on uncovering “unseen” sex differences in human anatomy and physiology. For example, a review of the studies of the human brain using various imaging techniques suggests that human females and males may “process” emotions differently, with males tending to use either the left hemisphere or the right hemisphere and females tending to use both hemispheres (Wager, Phan, Liberzon, & Taylor, 2003). While methodologies common to these studies, such as functional MRI studies, are still in their infancy and often use small convenience samples and subjective interpretation of the resulting images, they do raise provocative questions, such as the role of environment and experience in brain development or the behavioral consequences (if any) of the different patterns seen in images. In 2005, Janet Hyde reviewed 46 meta-analyses of psychological gender differences in a variety of outcomes, including cognitive variables, communication, personality, psychological well-being, and physical abilities. The research evaluated whether the evidence supported a “differences model” that males and females are psychologically quite different or if the evidence supported a “similarities hypothesis” that males and females are generally similar on most psychological outcomes with a few exceptions. Hyde found that the evidence strongly supported the gender similarities hypothesis, with large differences only showing

7. Gendered Bodies in Family Studies

up in physical abilities, some sexuality variables, and moderate differences in some measures of aggression. She also found that the magnitude of differences depended strongly on the context and could often be manipulated to the point of erasing or even reversing the direction of the differences by changing the subject’s environment or situation (Hyde). Even if gender differences have been overstated, certainly some do exist. How do we unravel the question of whether they are caused by biology or environment? Even in the womb, a developing embryo is exposed to the physical and social environment through its connections to the mother. There is some evidence that pregnant women may behave differently depending on whether they believe that their unborn baby is a boy or a girl (Al-Akour, 2007; Al-Qutob, Mawajdeh, Allosh, Mehayer, & Majali, 2004). Gendered stereotypes and environments are deeply ingrained in American culture and begin at birth or earlier (Karraker, Vogel, & Lake, 1995; Pomerleau, Bolduc, Malcuit, & Cossette, 1990; Shakin, Shakin, & Sternglanz, 1985). In this way, the organism and the environment become entangled from the very beginning. No biological organism can exist in a vacuum—the environment is a critical part of development from conception onwards. And humans experience a gendered environment that has no comparison in the rest of the animal kingdom. Genetics and Behavior: “Nature Versus Nurture” Is the Wrong Question It is tempting to use suspected differences in emotional processing, as well as in sexual and reproductive biology, to explain observed gender differences in personality and behavior. In fact, many Americans do attribute gender differences in personality traits, interests, and abilities to chromosomes and hormones. Why does it matter whether or not gender differences in behavior are learned through social interaction, or biologically based, or, as we will argue below, a complex interplay of both? As we noted, biological explanations are frequently used to justify the status quo (e.g., the exclusion of women from certain types of occupations, men’s lack of involvement in child care, and other familyrelated behaviors). Most scientists in the social and behavioral sciences—as well as in the natural sciences—now

91

realize that the “nature versus nurture” debate greatly oversimplified the processes that shape human behavior. Gendered behavior is more commonly regarded as a complex interplay of both biological factors (e.g., the brain and other components of the central nervous system as well as hormonal secretions) and the social and cultural environment (such as family, school, sports, and the mass media) that operate simultaneously and reciprocally. Thoughts and behaviors (which are biologically mediated processes arising from brain activities) alter the environment that individuals experience. The environment, in turn, alters brain development and other internal bodily processes. Life experiences change our underlying biology—they shape and reshape our brains, and our brains, in turn, influence our life experiences. In addition, our thoughts—which spring from biological processes—can change our brains. We are also social organisms who are affected by factors in our physical and social environments, including things such as the nutrients, pesticides, and calories in the foods we eat, the experiences to which we are exposed, and the experiences we choose for ourselves (Halpern, 2000). Genotypes and Phenotypes When we talk about inherent (i.e., biologically fixed) behavioral differences between men and women, we are really speculating about a very specific case of genetic behaviorism. We are theorizing that the genes on X and Y chromosomes are producing complex behavioral outcomes. However, as we have previously described, even the relatively much more simple connection between X and Y chromosomes and body characteristics is not always as predictable or as free from environmental and cultural contexts as we would like to believe. Understanding the role of genetic factors (such as an XX or XY genotype, which is the genetic constitution of a cell, an organism, or an individual, usually with reference to a specific character trait under consideration) in producing complex behavioral outcomes is central to evaluating biosocial approaches to gender differences. Clearly biology is involved in behavior. However, attempts to examine the role of biology and genetics in behavior have led the scientific community astray in the past, with reductionist and possibly biased results. Today,

92

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

many prominent researchers in a range of fields have come to the same question: Is nature versus nurture the right question for us to be asking when considering the differences between men and women or any behavioral outcomes? Feminist researchers must examine both the empirical evidence and theoretical developments in this evolving biosocial debate. Animal experiments have clearly demonstrated that the relative independent contributions of genetic and environmental components of phenotypes (i.e., observed characteristics such as body type or behavior) cannot be identified (Wahlsten & Gottlieb, 1997). This evidence goes against what has been called the split model or analysis of variance model, which has led people to think of variables as making independent contributions to various outcomes (Gottlieb & Halpern, 2002). The split model approach assigns independent values to causal factors that are categorized as either biological or sociocultural, and then the model assumes that the outcome can be explained by either one factor or the other alone, or an additive combination of both (Anastasi, 1958; Gottlieb & Halpern, 2002). While we may be able to identify genes and environments that contribute to outcomes, we now know that instead of being additive, genes and environment always collaborate and interact to produce the phenotype. Therefore, one cannot determine that a certain fraction of the outcome is caused by genes and a different fraction is caused by the environment because the contributions cannot be made independently of each other. Gottlieb and Halpern (2002) state that causality should be conceptualized as relational, coactive, and bidirectional to recognize that factors act together to cause developmental outcomes rather than operating in isolation. They posit that these factors can come from various levels of the developmental system (genetic, neural, behavioral) and the cultural, social, and physical environment. These concepts are also reflected in Bronfenbrenner’s (2005) bioecological model, which emphasizes the importance of experience, processes, and complex reciprocal interactions between the human organism and environment in shaping development. Figure 7.1 illustrates a blending of Gottlieb’s (1992) systems view of psychobiological development and Bronfenbrenner’s (2005) bioecological model from a life course perspective (Elder, 1998). Implicit in the model is the

assumption that genetic and biological activity are involved in all behavioral outcomes and are dependent on the environmental contexts. In addition, experiences can act directly on neural development, and they can also disrupt or change gene activity; so the physical manifestation of the genotype on body systems depends on the developmental and environmental history of the person (Gottlieb, 1998, 2007). Bronfenbrenner and Ceci (1994) call the nonadditive synergistic effects of biological and environmental interactions “proximal processes” that transform genotypes into phenotypes. Critical to understanding the described coaction is recognizing bidirectional processes between the levels shown in Figure 7.1 during the process of development (Gottlieb, 1992). Early experiences coact with specific sets of genes at various times throughout development to produce neural changes, but neither genotypes nor environmental experiences end up being linked inevitably with specific psychological outcomes. Individual factors cannot cause development; rather, it is the relationship between factors that causes development, and it is that relationship that must be specified for us to understand causality (Gottlieb, 2007; Gottlieb & Halpern, 2002; Halpern, Kaestle, Guo, & Hallfors, 2007). Many influential theorists in development are now promoting ideas that are based on a relational perspective of causality (Gottlieb & Halpern, 2002). These still-evolving biopsycho-social-ecological theories are supported by empirical evidence from numerous studies of humans and other animal models. These studies have demonstrated the ubiquitous and inevitable coaction of genetic and environmental factors and have concluded that trying to disentangle any independent main effects of genetic and environmental influences is likely to be methodologically and theoretically unsound (Gottlieb, 1992; Gottlieb & Halpern, 2002). These methodological concerns must be partnered with a critical approach to the process of scientific inquiry and the makeup of the epistemic community. Social practices and inequalities influence scientific inquiry and have traditionally left out diverse voices and feminist perspectives as equals in that process of inquiry and debate (Longino, 1990, 2002). Encouraging debate regarding the influence of sexism on the questions asked, the observations made, and the

7. Gendered Bodies in Family Studies

93

Larger Environment: cultural, social, and physical conditions Immediate Environment: persons, objects, symbols, and processes

Prior life experiences and development

Proximal Processes: behavior and response cycles of coaction

Human Organism: genetic activity, neural activity, body processes

Life-span development

Figure 7.1

Relational Bioecological Causal Perspective of Gender Behavior and Development

conclusions drawn is critical to furthering our understanding of gender differences. (See our earlier discussion of Udry’s article and the criticisms it provoked.) To have a healthy debate on these issues, a diverse set of inquirers must have equal footing in the epistemic community, regardless of race, class, gender, sexuality, theoretical approach, and politics. With regards to understanding gender, clearly this would involve the inclusion of feminist inquirers in the critical debate over evidence and theory (Longino, 1993).

CONCLUSION Genes are not the only thing we inherit from previous generations. We also inherit the physical environment and social structure they created. Genotype must express itself in that constructed environment, creating possible reinforcing feedback loops through hegemonic processes over generations. Patriarchal hegemony (i.e., the dominance of men and male interests), shaped and reinforced by differences in physical reproductive roles and prowess dating back into

human history, provides a legacy that has a profound impact on developmental environments. It also creates a context for scientific inquiry through time. This has allowed social prejudices to emerge in scientific theories such as biological determinism. These hegemonic manifestations in the scientific process have, in turn, reinforced patriarchy and influenced the types of environments we construct and provide for developing humans. In this way, patriarchal hegemony both contributes to and is reinforced through cycles that influence development and science (see Lancaster, 2003). However, this hegemonic influence can be and has been systematically challenged by critical researchers and theorists. Genetic behaviorism has been forced through this debate to abandon much of its determinism and to incorporate an acknowledgment of the interaction between genetics and environment in producing phenotypes rather than promoting the split model of nature versus nurture. We end with a statement by feminist scholars Judith Lorber and Lisa Jean Moore (2007), who quite aptly summarize this process:

94

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY” Human bodies are not “natural”; they are socially produced under specific cultural circumstances. They are shaped by sociocultural ideals of what female and male bodies should look like and be capable of (and further shaped by national, racial-ethnic, and social-class ideals for each.) . . . Feminism has increased awareness of how bodies are gendered by making visible the cultural and social dynamics that produce difference and dominance out of male and female bodies. Feminists have called into question many accepted “truths” about gender and bodies and have challenged the evidence on which dubious claims of men’s superiority are based. (pp. 4–5)

REFERENCES Al-Akour, N. A. (2007). Knowing the fetal gender and its relationship to seeking prenatal care: Results from Jordan [Electronic version]. Maternal and Child Health Journal. (Electronic publication October 30) Al-Qutob, R., Mawajdeh, S., Allosh, R., Mehayer, H., & Majali, S. (2004). The effect of prenatal knowledge of fetal sex on birth weight: A study from Jordan. Health Care Women International, 25, 281–291. Anastasi, A. (1958). Heredity, environment, and the question “how?” Psychological Review, 65, 197–208. Bleier, R. (1984). Science and gender: A critique of biology and its theories of women. New York: Pergamon Press. Booth, A., Carver, K., & Granger, D. A. (2000). Biosocial perspectives on the family. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 1018–1034. Booth, A., Johnson, D. R., & Granger, D. A. (2005). Testosterone, marital quality, and role overload. Journal of Marriage and Family, 67, 483–498. Bronfenbrenner, U. (2005). Making human beings human: Bioecological perspectives on human development. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Bronfenbrenner, U., & Ceci, S. J. (1994). Nature-nurture reconceptualized in developmental perspective: A bioecological model. Psycholological Review, 101, 568–586. Buss, D. (1995). Evolutionary psychology: A new paradigm for psychological science. Psychological Inquiry, 6, 1–30. Chrisler, J., & Caplan, P. (2002). The strange case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde: How PMS became a cultural phenomenon and a psychiatric disorder. Annual Review of Sex Research, 13, 274–306. Connell, R. W. (1999). Making gendered people: Bodies, identities, sexualities. In M. M. Ferree, J. Lorber, & B. B. Hess (Eds.), Revisioning gender (pp. 449–471). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Crawley, S., Foley, L., & Shehan, C. (2007). Gendering bodies. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield. Dahlberg, F. (1981). Woman the gatherer. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Dawkins, R. (1989). The selfish gene. New York: Oxford University Press. Dillaway, H. (2005). Menopause is the “Good Old”: Women’s thoughts about reproductive aging. Gender & Society, 19, 398–417. Ehrenreich, B., & English, D. (2005). For her own good: Two centuries of the experts’ advice to women (2nd ed.). New York: Anchor Books. Elder, G. H., Jr. (1998). The life course as developmental theory. Child Development, 69, 1–12. Elson, J. (2003). Hormonal hierarchy: Hysterectomy and stratified stigma. Gender & Society, 17, 750–770.

Fausto-Sterling, A. (2000). Sexing the body: Gender politics and the construction of sexuality. New York: Basic Books. Freeman, E., Bloom, D., & McGuire, E. (2001). A brief history of testosterone. Journal of Urology, 165, 371–373. Giammanco, M., Tabacchi, G., Giammanco, S., Di Majo, D., & La Guardia, M. (2005). Testosterone and aggressiveness. Medical Science Monitor, 11, 136–145. Golub, S. (1992). Periods: From menarche to menopause. Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Gottlieb, G. (1992). Individual development and evolution: The genesis of novel behavior. New York: Oxford University Press. Gottlieb, G. (1998). Normally occurring environmental and behavioral influences on gene activity: From central dogma to probabilistic epigenesis. Psychological Review, 105, 792–802. Gottlieb, G. (2007). Probabilistic epigenesis. Developmental Science, 10, 1–11. Gottlieb, G., & Halpern, C. T. (2002). A relational view of causality in normal and abnormal development. Developmental Psychopathology, 14, 421–435. Halpern, C. T., Kaestle, C. E., Guo, G., & Hallfors, D. (2007). Geneenvironment contributions to young adult sexual partnering. Archives of Sexual Behavior, 36, 543–554. Halpern, D. F. (2000). Sex differences and cognitive abilities. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Holcomb, H. (1993). Sociobiology, sex, and science. Albany: State University of New York Press. Holcomb, H., & Byron, J. (2005). Sociobiology. Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Retrieved June 26, 2008, from http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/sociobiology Houvouras, S. (2004). Negotiated concepts: Body, mind, emotions, and self in women’s childbearing narratives. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Florida, Gainsville. Hyde, J. S. (2005). The gender similarities hypothesis. American Psychologist, 60, 581–592. Jurgens, J., & Powers, B. A. (1991). An exploratory study of menstrual euphemisms, beliefs, and taboos of Head Start mothers. In D. Taylor & N. Woods (Eds.), Menstruation, health, illness (pp. 35–40). Oxford, UK: Taylor & Francis. Karraker, K. H., Vogel, D. A., & Lake, M. A. (1995). Parents’ genderstereotyped perceptions of newborns: The eye of the beholder revisited. Sex Roles, 33, 687–701. Kennelly, I., Merz, S., & Lorber, J. (2001). What is gender? American Sociological Review, 66, 598–606. Kuhnle, U., & Krahl, W. (2002). The impact of culture on sex assignment and gender development in intersex patients. Perspectives in Biology and Medicine, 45, 85–103. Lancaster, R. N. (2003). The trouble with nature: Sex in science and popular culture. Berkeley: University of California Press. Lee, J. (1994). Menarche and the (hetero)sexualization of the female body. Gender & Society, 8, 343–362. Lee, J. (2008). A Kotex and a smile: Mothers and daughters at menarche. Journal of Family Issues, 29, 1325–1347. Lee, J., & Sasser-Coen, J. (1996). Blood stories: Menarche and the politics of the female body in contemporary U.S. society. New York: Routledge. Lee, R., & DeVore, I. (Eds.). (1968). Man the hunter. New York: Aldine de Gruyter. Longino, H. E. (1990). Science as social knowledge: Values and objectivity in scientific inquiry. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Longino, H. E. (1993). Subjects, power, and knowledge: Description and prescription in the feminist philosophies of science. In L. Alcoff & E. Potter (Eds.), Feminist epistemologies (thinking gender) (pp. 101–120). New York: Routledge. Longino, H. E. (2002). The fate of knowledge. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Lorber, J., & Moore, L. J. (2007). Gendered bodies: Feminist perspectives. New York: Oxford University Press. Loving, T. J., Heffner, K. L., Kiecolt, J. K., Glaser, G. R., & Malarkey, W. B. (2004). Stress hormone changes and marital conflict: Spouses’ relative power makes a difference. Journal of Marriage and Family, 66, 595–612.

7. Gendered Bodies in Family Studies Markens, S. (1996). The problematic of experience: A political and cultural critique of PMS. Gender & Society, 10, 42–58. Martin, K. (2003). Giving birth like a girl. Gender & Society, 17, 54–72. Martin, P. (2004). Gender as social institution. Social Forces, 82, 1249–1273. Miller, E., & Costello, C. (2001). The limits of biological determinism. American Sociological Review, 66, 592–599. Miller, T. (2007). Is this what motherhood is all about? Gender & Society, 21, 337–358. Parsons, T., & Bales, R. (1955). Family, socialization, and interaction processes. Glencoe, IL: Free Press. Pomerleau, A., Bolduc, D., Malcuit, G., & Cossette, L. (1990). Pink or blue: Environmental gender stereotypes in the first two years of life. Sex Roles, 22, 359–367. Popenoe, D. (1996). Life without father: Compelling new evidence that fatherhood and marriage are indispensable for the good of children and society. New York: Free Press. Risman, B. (1998). Gender vertigo: American families in transition. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Risman, B. (2001). Calling the bluff of value-free science. American Sociological Review, 66, 605–611. Rose, S., Kamin, L., & Lewontin, R. C. (1985). Not in our genes: Biology, ideology, and human nature. New York: Pantheon Books. Rossi, P., & Rossi, A. (1990). Of human bonding: Parent-child relationships across the life course. Piscataway, NJ: Aldine Transaction. Shakin, M., Shakin, D., & Sternglanz, S. H. (1985). Infant clothing: Sex labeling for strangers. Sex Roles, 12, 955–964.

95

Stearns, C. (1999). Breastfeeding and the good maternal body. Gender & Society, 13, 308–325. Tavris, C., & Offir, C. (1984). The longest war: Sex differences in perspective. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich. Thornhill, R. (1980). Rape in Panorpa scorpionflies and a general rape hypothesis. Animal Behavior, 28, 52–59. Thornhill, R., & Palmer, C. (2000). A natural history of rape: Biological bases of sexual coercion. Amherst, MA: MIT Press. Udry, R. (2000). Biological limits of gender construction. American Sociological Review, 65, 443–457. Udry, R. (2001). Feminist critics uncover determinism, positivism, and antiquated theory. American Sociological Review, 66, 611–618. Wager, T., Phan, K., Liberzon, I., & Taylor, S. (2003). Valence, gender, and lateralization of functional brain anatomy in emotion: A meta-analysis of findings from neuroimaging. NeuroImage 19, 513–531. Wahlsten, D., & Gottlieb, G. (1997). The invalid separation of effects of nature and nurture: Lessons from animal experimentation. In R. J. Sternberg & E. Grigorenko (Eds.), Intelligence, heredity, and environment (pp. 163–192). Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Waite, L., & Gallagher, M. (2001). The case for marriage: Why married people are happier, healthier, and better off financially. New York: Broadway. Wang, C., Alexander, G., Berman, N., Salehian, B., Davidson, T., McDonald, V., et al., (1996). Testosterone replacement therapy. Journal of Clinical Endocrinology and Metabolism, 81, 3578–3583. Wilson, E. O. (1975). Sociobiology: The new synthesis. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

8 (RE)VISIONING INTIMATE RELATIONSHIPS Chicanas in Family Studies A NA A. LUCERO -L IU D ONNA H ENDRICKSON C HRISTENSEN

T

he Latino population is the largest and fastest growing ethnic minority group in the United States (U.S. Census Bureau, 2008), with Mexican Americans comprising the largest segment of the Latino population. Mexican-origin women are often invisible members of our society, doing work that is often unnoticed. These women are diverse; they may be the unseen workers that clean offices, or they may be colleagues with unique issues that are often unknown or misunderstood. They are real women situated in a variety of contexts. Recently, their voices have become more visible as they fight for their neighborhoods and for immigration laws. However, Mexican-origin women are still largely underrepresented in family research. We know little of their unique issues and how the reality of their lives influences their experience of family. We present evidence that the experiences of Mexican-origin women in families are distinct from other women and argue that their voices need to be included in family research 96

in order to better serve them and the Mexican population in our society. In this chapter, we examine the strengths and shortcomings of family research in documenting the lives of Chicanas. We argue that to fully understand the experiences of Chicanas in families, it is necessary to study the intersections in which they are situated. This chapter critically examines how this intersection of gender, ethnicity, and economic status affects Chicanas’ experiences in families. Our goal is to make Chicanas’ voices heard more wholly in family research. We recognize that the intersections we are examining do not capture the realities of all Mexican-origin women. For example, other critical intersections for Mexican-origin women include immigration and sexuality. Many prominent Chicana feminist writers have helped give voice to Chicana lesbian experiences (e.g., Anzaldúa and Moraga). Our intention is to add to the Chicana feminist voice that examines Chicanas’ experiences in heterosexual relationships. In

8. (Re)Visioning Intimate Relationships

this chapter, we intentionally use the term Chicana when referring to Mexican-origin women living in the United States. We use this term conscious of its political implications (i.e., the use of the term to refer to politicized Mexican Americans). When referencing the work of others, we use the term that they adopt in their research and writing (e.g., Mexican American, Latino, Mexican origin, etc.) so as not impose our own views on others’ works. Furthermore, we approach writing this article from different social locations in relation to ethnicity. Ana is a mexicana/Chicana raised in Arizona, in a town divided by the border between Mexico and Arizona. Ana is also a recent doctoral recipient who was mentored by Donna. Donna is a European American who grew up in a northern state and whose research focus is on the parenting relationship in two-parent families with a special interest in how the dynamics of gender influence the coparenting affiliation.

CHICANA FEMINIST ORIGINS Before delving into an intersectional analysis of Chicanas’ family life, we would like to dedicate space to the origins of Chicana feminist theorizing and offer some central themes in Chicana feminist theory. The origins of Chicana feminism date to the late 1960s and early 1970s, beginning primarily as a response to Chicanas’ involvement within the Chicano movement. It began as some Chicanas started questioning the ideology, values embraced, and their own involvement within the Chicano movement. These Chicanas were primarily located on college campuses and out of urban community organizations (Roth, 2007). The Chicana feminist movement consisted exclusively of women, with little male participation. Alma García (1997a) has compiled historical writings that chronicle Chicana feminism as emerging from within the Chicano movement. Many gender tensions and contradictions within the movement have been documented. For example, one of the sources of inequalities within the movement was that the leadership positions were male dominated, with women often excluded from the forefront and relegated to kitchen or office work. Ideological differences also surfaced within the Chicano movement. By

97

labeling race and ethnicity as the primary form of oppression, women’s issues were ignored by the nationalist ideology. Furthermore, some of the cultural values that the movement embraced were the very values that Chicanas experienced as oppressive. For example, part of the Chicano movement’s agenda was embracing the cultural heritage of Mexico, including the concept of la familia or a traditional Mexican family form. This seemed contrary to the views of many Chicanas within the movement who felt that their interests were not being addressed. By focusing on “cultural survival,” which was interpreted, in part, as the preservation of traditional male-female roles, the movement failed to acknowledge the need to alter oppressive malefemale relationships within Chicano communities (García, 1997b). As the Chicano movement equated national survival with a glorification of traditional gender roles, Chicanas criticized the notion of the “ideal Chicana,” a deferent selfsacrificing nurturer. Thus, many women within the movement felt that it failed to address their needs by denying gender as a form of oppression (Orozco, 1997). As Chicanas began to speak out within the movement, they were ostracized or marginalized as they were seen as deviating from the “true” fight and breaking solidarity. Furthermore, many Chicanos perceived feminist ideologies as antifamily, and Chicanas who strayed from the nationalist political stance were labeled vendidas (sell-outs) or agabachadas (White-identified; Pesquera & Segura, 1997). Chicanos believed that feminism was an Anglo and middle-class ideology, and that it was a diversion from the fundamental issues of racism and classism. This is evident in a popular statement, “El problema es el gabacho no el macho [The problem is the Anglo not the Macho]” (p. 265). As a consequence, many Chicanas felt as if they had to choose between freedom from sexism and freedom from racism and classism. After their experience within the Chicano movement, some Chicanas turned toward the women’s movement or second-wave liberal feminists for comradery. However, if the Chicano movement failed to recognize gender as forms of oppression, Chicanas felt that the mainstream, liberal Feminist movement failed to acknowledge racism and classism as forms of oppression (Hurtado, 1989). The main shortcoming of the

98

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

larger Feminist movement was its failure to put race and class issues on the same level as gender (Zavella, 1989). While mainstream feminists were demanding reproductive rights, including the right to abortion, Chicana activists were fighting forced sterilizations and defending the right to bear children. As a consequence, some Chicanas did not identify as feminist and opted for Walker’s term womanist (Zavella, 1989). Due to the inability of the Chicano and Feminist movements to address Chicanas’ interests, Chicana feminism evolved. Chicanas began constructing their own ideology based on their own unique experiences. This was an effort to overcome the marginalization that results from prioritizing one form of oppression over another.

CHICANA FEMINIST THEMES Early Chicana feminism primarily manifested itself in literary works, including essays, articles, prose, and poetry. Early influential work includes the writings of Gloría Anzaldúa and Cherríe Moraga, in which they revisioned Chicanas’ lives. Although Chicana feminism has yet to fully enter the field of family studies, its influence is found in sister disciplines of sociology and psychology. For example, the works of Maxine Baca Zinn and her students, in developing multiracial feminism, incorporated and is built on Chicana theorizing. Aída Hurtado and Yolanda Flores Niemann have brought Chicana feminism into psychology. Chicana feminist theory is perhaps most apparent in cultural studies, including Latin American studies, as evidenced by works of Gabriela Arredondo, Pierrette Hondagneu-Sotelo, and Patricia Zavella. The themes presented in this chapter are primarily drawn from the aforementioned works. Chicana feminism places Chicanas’ life experiences at its center. This focus on life experiences creates a space that recognizes women’s historical conditions. It holds that Chicanas’ experiences are valid and of value. Chicanas’ voices have historically been marginalized and distorted in mainstream writings in social sciences and history, and Chicana feminism aims to rectify this. Although the idea of valuing Chicanas’ life experiences may sound

basic, current events illustrate a different reality. In the Southwest, we are bombarded with news reports that indicate that Mexican lives are not equally valued. For example, even as the number of deaths of border crossers in our desert continues to grow, there are instances of humanitarians being imprisoned for aiding border crossers in desperate need of medical attention. Groups have also appeared with the sole purpose of undermining humanitarians’ efforts to save lives. Countless other examples of the devaluing of Mexican lives can be found in local news. Anti-immigrant sentiment is on the rise in the United States, and crimes against Mexican immigrants such as lynching, rape, robbery, and murder are sprinkled from Georgia to California. A second theme found in Chicana feminist theory is that of multiplicity. Women of Mexican origin constitute a diverse and continuously changing community, occupying various social locations. Various systems of inequality (including those based on racialization, class, immigration status, acculturation, language usage, sexual orientation, age, and generation) are experienced differently based on the intersections of a woman’s social location. This implies that we cannot generalize from one Chicana to another and must consider the complexity of women’s reality. Additionally, no one form of inequality should be considered more oppressive than another, as each is not experienced in a vacuum. Chicana feminists struggle to gain social equality and end both sexism and racism. Thus, Mexican-origin women have experiences as a “triple minority” (see Arellano & Ayala-Alcantar, 2004) due to their disadvantaged social locations in terms of gender, ethnicity, and social class. The third theme deals with the concept of borders. This is meant in both the literal and figurative sense. The former refers to the boundary between Mexico and the United States, and the surrounding land, where many Chicanas live. This is a place where the confluence of cultures creates an environment distinct from that of either nation, a cultural estuary. Figuratively, borders refer to Chicanas’ sense of ambiguity stemming from feeling alienated from both their native culture and the dominant culture. Anzaldúa (1987/1999) describes this feeling as she writes of Chicanas’ struggles in the borderlands:

8. (Re)Visioning Intimate Relationships Because I, a mestiza, continually walk out of one culture and into another, because I am in all cultures at the same time, alma entre dos mundos, tres, cuatro, me zumba la cabeza con lo contradictorio. Estoy norteada por todas las voces que me hablan simultáneamente.* (p. 77)

Although living in the borderlands is a struggle, Anzaldúa (1987/1999) also views this as a positive, as it offers Chicanas the opportunity to forge a unique identity. Anzaldúa illustrates this power by creating her own language using a mix of Spanish, English, and indigenous tongues. Through this process, she validates her own experiences and those of other Chicanas. In the family context, this means that Chicanas need to negotiate contradictory messages coming from each culture. The fourth theme, agency, is echoed in the writings of Chicanas. Agency refers to Chicanas’ active response to historically specific structural conditions that constrain women’s experiences (Segura, 2003). It encompasses the active resistance to oppression that Chicanas have demonstrated through their strength and resilience. Depictions of passive, fatalistic women are a far cry from the reality of many Chicanas, now and throughout history. Arellano and Ayala-Alcantar (2004) have outlined historical instances of Mexican women actively engaged in fighting for the improvement of their lives and their community. A notable example can be found in Prado’s book (1998) in which she documents the stories of Mexican women as they mobilized their communities against a toxic waste dump and a prison. A fifth theme centers on Chicanas’ oppression due to their minority status and socioeconomic class. Despite the multiplicity of women’s experiences, poverty and low educational attainment are a reality in many Mexican communities in the United States. As of July 2006, people of Mexican origin are less likely to graduate from high school than the overall population, 53.1% compared with 85.5%. Mexican-origin people

99

are also less likely to have a bachelor’s degree than the overall population, 8.5% compared with 28% of the total population. Mexican families in the United States are more likely to live below the poverty line than non-Hispanic Whites, 22.8% as compared with 7.8%. Mexican American workers also earn less than nonHispanic White workers; only 23.6% of Mexican Americans earn $35,000 or more compared with 53.8% of non-Hispanic Whites (U.S. Census Bureau, 2002, 2006). Other issues that affect Mexican communities include the lack of health care, issues related to border policy, and the availability of bilingual education. Since these struggles affect the Mexican community at large, Chicanas often find themselves aligning with the men in their communities. Chicana feminism also acknowledges the experiences of Mexicanorigin men, as they recognize that Mexicanorigin men also experience oppression and may be disenfranchised due to their experiences with power relations and social structures (Arellano & Ayala-Alcantar, 2004). The final theme recognizes that Chicanas experience male oppression within their own communities, as well as in the larger society (García, 1997b). This calls for a gender analysis of society at large and also within Chicano communities (Segura, 2001). For example, during the Chicano movement, it was men who decided what aspects of Mexican culture to embrace, such as the traditional family form. Chicanas began questioning men’s version of Mexican culture and began exploring a more holistic history that would recognize women’s experiences. The influence of Chicana feminism on family research is largely missing. Very little is known about how Mexican-origin women experience relationships and marriage and how their experiences may differ from that of White women or Mexican-origin men. Understanding systems of oppression in the personal lives of Mexicanorigin women will only be accomplished with a more thorough understanding of their lived lives, including their experience of family. To date, our limited knowledge of the family lives of Chicanas comes from extrapolations of research

*Source: Excerpt from “La conciencia de la mestiza.” From Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza. Copyright  1987, 1999 by Gloria Anzaldúa. Reprinted by permission of Aunt Lute Books.

100

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

conducted on other populations, such as White women or Hispanic families more generally. To study how family is experienced by Chicanas, especially when using a feminist lens, family researchers must understand how belonging to multiple social categories intersect to uniquely shape the lives of Chicanas. The following section provides an overview of how the intersection of being women of Mexican origin and belonging predominately to a subordinate social class may shape the experience of Chicanas in families.

GENDER AND ETHNICITY Ethnicity helps define the culture to which individuals preside, which in turn helps define the values which groups hold as important. Cultural values are a group’s desired principles, goals, and shared beliefs and have been found to influence what people believe, how they behave, and how they organize their social relationships (Schwartz, 1994). From a psychological perspective, cultural values are one of the core aspects to ethnicity (Phinney, 1996). Cultural values influence people’s daily lives and provide guidelines on how to structure relationships, including intimate relationships. While unique, Chicanas and their experience of family are influenced by values held by the larger Hispanic culture. Marín and Marín (1991) delineate key Hispanic cultural values and hold that researchers studying Hispanic populations must be familiar with these basic cultural values. The inclusion of cultural values in research moves toward understanding group processes rather than simply focusing on comparisons across groups. Key Hispanic cultural values that have been identified include collectivism, simpatía, familism, power distance, personal space, time orientation, and traditional gender roles (Marín & Marín, 1991). Collectivist societies emphasize the needs, objectives, and points of view of an in-group, whereas individualistic cultures emphasize personal objectives, attitudes, and values. Collectivism is associated with personal interdependence, mutual empathy, willingness to sacrifice for the welfare of in-group members, and trust of in-group members. In collectivist societies, group identity is historically more important than the self for both men and women (Markus & Kitayama, 1991). The cultural value

of simpatía refers to the need for behaviors that promote smooth and pleasant social relationships (Triandis, Marin, Lisansky, & Betancourt, 1984). Familism involves individuals’ strong identification with, and attachment to, their nuclear and extended families, as well as strong feelings of loyalty, reciprocity, and solidarity among members of the same family (Sabogal, Marín, Otero-Sabogal, Marín, & Perez-Stable, 1987). For example, recent qualitative research has found that Mexican-origin migrant families place strong importance on the centrality of family in their lives (Parra-Cardona, Bulock, Imig, Villarruel, & Gold, 2006). Power distance is defined as a measure of interpersonal power or influence that exists between two individuals. Individuals strive to maintain their power in relationship to those less powerful, and this power differential is supported by society (Marín & Marín, 1991). Related to the preferred power differentials is the value of respeto. Respeto emphasizes deference and respect toward persons with higher authority, power, and recognition (Yep, 1995), thus maintaining existing power differentials. In general, Hispanics have also been shown to prefer shorter distances of personal space than Caucasians and also tend to have more flexible attitudes toward time. Finally, some researchers have also suggested that Hispanics may have more traditionally defined gender roles than non-Hispanic Whites (Phinney & Flores, 2002), a topic we delve into more deeply in our discussion of marianismo and machismo. Despite a growing awareness of Hispanic cultural values, few empirical studies have directly examined rather than inferred the impact of cultural values on intimate relationship. A Chicana feminist analysis of the literature on cultural values raises several questions. First, we question whether men and women experience cultural values in the same manner and whether the meaning and behaviors ascribed to the different cultural values vary by gender (Sotomayor-Peterson, 2008). Furthermore, in terms of their experiences within families, we question whether the consequences of ascribing to cultural values vary between men and women. Recent research supports this idea, in that stronger endorsement of simpatía by men is positively associated with their partner’s report of relationship adjustment and parenting relationship, whereas

8. (Re)Visioning Intimate Relationships

men’s endorsement of respeto is negatively associated with both relationship adjustment and the parenting relationship as reported by their partners (Yu et al., 2008). Furthermore, men’s endorsement of familism has also been found to serve a protective function within families, in terms of how women experience their relationship (Lucero-Liu, 2007). Gender relations as experienced by Chicanas are also influenced by cultural images and scripts provided by Mexican culture of how women and men are to behave as individuals and in relation to one another. For example, Anzaldúa (1987/1999) documents the experiences of Mexican-origin women in the Southwest. Anzaldúa depicts Mexican-origin women’s identities as influenced by a “good” woman and “bad” woman dichotomy. These identities are consistent with images found in the larger Mexican culture. The good side of this dichotomy is exemplified by the Virgen de Guadalupe. The Virgen de Guadalupe is a Mexican apparition of the Virgin Mary; she is portrayed as the ideal mother who tries to make her children conform and humble themselves. She is a model of purity and virtue. This good-woman representation is known as marianismo in the social sciences. Other aspects of marianismo include the notion that a woman is expected to be home oriented, nurturing, selfsacrificing, soft, passive, and submissive to her husband (Niemann, 2004). The bad woman of the dichotomy is represented by Doña Marina, also known as la Malinche. Historically, Doña Marina was an Aztec noblewoman who was later enslaved by the Mayans. She was subsequently given to Hernán Cortez as a spoil of war (Roth, 2007). She served as Cortez’s mistress and translator and represents the mother of a new race of people. Doña Marina is often accused of being a traitor to her people for aiding Cortez as his translator. Additionally, her role as Cortez’s concubine breaks with traditional views of female sexuality. This gave rise to the term malinchista, which in Mexican Spanish means “traitor,” with an additional connotation of selling out to foreigners. The bad side of the representation portrays women as self-centered, promiscuous, and not conforming to traditional gender roles (Niemann, 2004). Chicana feminist scholars reject the notion that Doña Marina was a traitor, claiming that she was only a child of 14 when she

101

was given to Cortez as his slave, concubine, and translator (Castillo, 1994). There is some empirical evidence that this good-bad women dichotomy influences sexuality in marriage. For example, research on lessons that Mexican immigrant women teach their daughters about sexuality illustrates support for an “ideal” woman, who is pure and virginal (González-López, 2003). In a qualitative study of 40 women who had emigrated from Mexico, those emigrating from rural areas expressed to their daughters their desire for them to preserve their virginity until marriage. From these women’s perspective, entering marriage as a virgin is a source of pride and power, because they exemplify the “ideal” asexual woman. These mothers advised their daughters that entering marriage as a nonvirgin may provide their husbands with leverage to use against them. Three of the women in the study lost their virginity through rape prior to marriage. The husbands of these three women held their lack of virginity prior to marriage against them. The study also documents one case in which the interviewed participant declared that her husband criticized her impurity because she vaginally lubricated during intercourse. This physiological manifestation of her sexuality runs contrary to the “good” woman image of an asexual person. The importance of preserving virginity until marriage is also documented by the popularity of “doctors” who claim to be able to restore a woman’s virginity (González-López). There is debate as to how much women have internalized these dichotomous images within the Mexican-origin population. Baca Zinn (1980) argues that the actual behaviors among Mexican-origin women are not as rigid as the stereotypic roles of a self-sacrificing woman. She argues that simplistic and one-dimensional notions do not capture the complexities of people’s experiences. Baca Zinn (1990) also asserts that structural location cannot be ignored when examining the lives of Mexican-origin women. Baca Zinn, therefore, rejects the generalization of marianismo to all Chicanas. There is also a good-bad dichotomy presented for men, revolving around the concept of machismo. Literally translated, machismo means that which is related to men or masculinity (Castillo, 1994). Although there are good depictions of macho men, there are more often bad depictions of macho men (Niemann, 2004). The

102

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

good depictions of a macho man emphasize a man’s role as a family provider within a patriarchal society. The good macho man carries out his role as the head of the family with pride, dignity, and respect. He is a community leader who deserves respect from those he serves and protects (Niemann). The bad side of the dichotomy depicts macho men as demanding respect and submissiveness from others (including his family), having numerous girlfriends, and being authoritarian, irresponsible, aggressive, and violent (Niemann). Arciniega, Anderson, TovarBlank, and Tracey (2008) also distinguish between two independent dimensions of machismo: The negative dimension they label “Traditional Machismo,” and a positive dimension is called “Caballerismo.” Some researchers have interpreted the bad side of machismo as a man’s attempt to compensate for feelings of internalized inferiority due to racism and classism (Baca Zinn, 1980). Thus, it may be other structural forces (e.g., education, class, socioeconomic status) rather than ethnicity that are associated with machismo. There is much debate in the research literature as to the prevalence of machismo within Mexican culture (Casas, Wagenheim, Banchero, & Mendoza-Romero, 1995). Some researchers contend that machismo is very prevalent (Mirandé, 1988), while others believe that it is nothing more than a stereotypic myth that portrays men as hypermasculine (Baca Zinn, 1982). Still others argue that machismo is on the decline due to acculturation, modernity, and other economic advances (Cromwell & Ruiz, 1979). Baca Zinn (1982) examines empirical challenges of machismo. Her central theme is that while ethnic status may be associated with differences in masculinity, those differences can be better explained by structural variables rather than by reference to a common cultural heritage. Baca Zinn confronts the notion that machismo is rooted in Chicano history and embedded in culture, especially considering that male dominance is universal. She does not deny that male dominance does exist within the Chicano community but rather holds that negative stereotypes about Chicanos need to be dispelled, mainly because of the variability across circumstances. Baca Zinn suggests that social structural characteristics of families, such as inequalities in employment, may be driving the presence of male dominance.

Regardless of whether machismo is conceived as a good or bad thing, we are in agreement with other Chicana feminists who contend that there is no such thing as a positive macho image, as there is never a justification for male dominance or for endorsing values that elevate men’s status over that of women. All qualities that maintain the idea that the man should be the head of the family are embedded in patriarchal ideals that perpetuate the oppression of women (Castillo, 1994). Change in the individual behavior of men is not sufficient when the larger cultural umbrella supports a view of men as superiors to women in any way and thus contributes to structural inequities in relationships between men and women. Niemann (2004) has explored the impact of gendered stereotypes on the Chicano/a community. Niemann proposes that members of the ingroup internalize the extreme dichotomous depictions of Chicanas and Chicanos. She views marianismo and machismo as stereotypes that affect both outsiders’ and insiders’ expectations for behavior. These stereotypes are perpetuated by members of both the stereotyped group and by the larger society. She views families as the main conveyers of culture, and mothers as the primary reinforcers of culture within the family. The stereotypes of the good woman and the macho man have many consequences on the Chicano population, including influences on sexual behavior and sexual practices, labor force participation, educational values and behaviors, sexual identity, family violence, and sexual and alcohol abuse. Niemann’s solution is to expand the definitions of men and women within the culture by providing Chicana/os with more options for personal identity and behavior, thus changing the definitions of male and female roles within the Mexican-origin community. This would allow Chicanas freedom to live their lives without fear of the judgment from others, including their families. Few studies have directly examined the internalization of marianismo and machismo and their effects on Chicanas in the family studies field. One study found that Mexican-origin women with more traditional orientations were less likely to report abuse by a partner (Harris, Firestone, & Vega, 2005). Research on the division of household labor finds that Hispanic families are more likely to perceive the division of household labor as fair, even if housework is

8. (Re)Visioning Intimate Relationships

not equally divided between partners (Coltrane, 2000); Coltrane, Parke, and Adams (2004), however, did find that Mexican American fathers with more egalitarian gender attitudes and with higher-educated wives were more involved fathers. There is still much research to be done on the influence of culture on the lives of Chicanas. Traditional cultural values, such as familism and simpatia, may be protective on the one hand by providing all members of the family with scripts that focus on the collective good. Cultural values such as respect or cultural images of marianismo and machismo, on the other hand, may lead to the increased oppression experienced by Chicanas by limiting their voice in families. It is also possible that there are cross-effects of these cultural values. That is, the scripted gendered behaviors associated with the value of simpatia may differ for women and men, altering the experience of family for Chicanas.

GENDER, ETHNICITY, AND ECONOMIC STATUS Chicanas and their family relationships are influenced not only by the intersection of their gender and their ethnicity but also by their often marginalized economic status. There is little research, however, on how the experiences of Mexican-origin women and how their families vary by their economic standing. A study by Barnett, Del Campo, Del Campo and Steiner (2003) found a positive association between work-family balance and satisfaction with marriage for working-class Mexican Americans. They suggest that working-class Mexican Americans face unique challenges in balancing work and family. These families may not have discretionary income to buy goods and services to help manage the work-family balance. Additionally, rigid schedules result in low control over daily routine and offer very little flexibility to balance work and family (Barnett et al., 2003). This lack of flexibility may be particularly distressing for families with a strong familistic orientation. Sarkisian, Gerena, and Gerstel (2007) examined extended family integration among European and Mexican Americans. They found that Mexican American women are more likely than European Americans to give household or

103

child care help, while European Americans are more likely to give financial help. They also found a higher incidence of kin coresidence and proximate living in Mexican-origin families. The authors credit the differences between Mexican and European Americans as largely due to social class, citing the need to attend to the intersection of gender, ethnicity, and class. As is true in the larger culture, work experiences of men and women influence the family dynamics of Mexican-origin families (Updegraff, Crouter, Umana-Taylor, & Cansler, 2007). A Mexican-origin woman’s experiences within her family vary by economic status and work. Thus, it is not sufficient to consider her family’s economic standing within the greater economic social structure, but it is also necessary to analyze her economic standing within the family. It is crucial to examine not only whether she is employed but also the conditions of her employment and her contribution to the family relative to her husband. Research by Ybarra (1982) examines the division of household chores within families. Ybarra explores several variables such as acculturation, education, and employment status and their association with egalitarian conjugal role structure. She questions the assumption that more egalitarian roles are associated with greater acculturation into the U.S. culture. Ybarra finds support for her argument; it is wife employment, and not acculturation, that she finds accounts for a more egalitarian division of household chores within the marriage. Ybarra, however, does not take into account the type of employment the women hold or their relative economic contribution to the family. De La Torre (1993) suggests that all Mexicanorigin women do not equally share the positive impact of a wife’s employment on family life. Her work on women migrant workers suggests that there are disadvantages to women’s employment, including a loss of control in the household and reduced care to the children. The point she raises is that agricultural economic development does not always lead to greater equality for women. Additionally, De La Torre finds that the traditional gender roles in the household are not radically altered with female seasonal employment. There is also variance in how Mexican-origin women view housework. Pessar (2003) documents that some Latinas, in contrast to their

104

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

White counterparts, view unpaid domestic work, such as having children and maintaining families, more as a form of resistance to racist oppression than as a form of exploitation by men. Being a housewife is viewed by some Latinas as achieving success in the United States, as paid work for many poor Latinas is a result of economic necessity and not choice. This illustrates that gender subordination may be felt more acutely by poor Latinas as opposed to subordination due to social class (Parado & Flippen, 2005). Mexican-origin women’s experiences within families are also found to vary by their income relative to that of their husbands. Pesquera (1993) illustrates this point in her research on how the distribution of household labor is shaped by women’s level of economic contribution to the household. Pesquera uses a combination of qualitative and quantitative methodologies to explore the division of household labor in Mexican-origin families. She finds differences between women professionals, clerical workers, and blue-collar workers in the division of household labor. Mexican-origin professionals and blue-collar workers have greater expectations and observe greater male participation in household tasks as compared with clerical workers. This, Pesquera finds, reflects not only differences in expectations held by the women but also a greater willingness to engage in conflict with their husbands over the division of household labor. Pesquera believes that clerical women have husbands who do less household labor because of the bigger earning gap between them, which gives women less leverage in the marriage. Researchers have also documented familial barriers encountered by Mexican-origin women in their career and educational advancement. For example, Gándara’s (1982) qualitative study focusing on highly educated Chicana women from low socioeconomic backgrounds found that the single characteristic that was most critical in their career advancement was that they were all unmarried and childless. The experience of Chicanas in families is influenced by their economic standing. Many Chicanas belong to a marginalized social class. Thus, gender and ethnicity alone cannot explain the experience and barriers faced by Mexicanorigin women in the United States. At the same time, it is a mistake to assume a lack of diversity

in economic status among Chicanas. Thus, it is important to consider economic status when examining Chicanas’ experience of family relationships. When gender and ethnicity are examined in isolation, these two social constructs may not fully illuminate the reality of Chicanas’ lives. It is important to unravel the multiple sources of oppression, as well as the possible contributors to resiliencies that help define Chicanas.

CONCLUDING THOUGHTS Family research on Chicanas often focuses on their ethnicity while ignoring other aspects of their lives. As we have seen, Chicana women are diverse, and we need to understand how their diverse identities influence their experiences within their families. Scholars have regarded Chicanas as a triple minority (see Arellano & Ayala-Alcantar, 2004) due to their disadvantaged social locations in terms of gender, ethnicity, and social class. An examination of these intersections reveals how all aspects of Mexicanorigin women’s lives contribute to their experiences within families. If we are to serve the needs of Mexican-origin women, family research needs to incorporate the unique qualities of ethnic minorities into mainstream thinking. Currently, family research is primarily conducted with White, middle-class samples. Chicana feminism acknowledges that many Mexican-origin women lead lives with substantially different experiences from those of men or White women. For example, U.S. Census data show that Mexican-origin people tend to live in larger households than non-Hispanic Whites and that Mexican-origin people tend to marry earlier (U.S. Census Bureau, 2002). Basic questions, such as who is family, especially for Chicanas in border regions, are crucial to ask if feminist researchers are to understand the complex lives of Chicanas, as the financial and emotional responsibilities of family are not always confined to a single dwelling. Thus, questions that arise from current research that uses a narrow definition of family may miss the unique experiences of Mexican-origin families and the women within them. It is also important for feminist researchers to be aware of the influence of cultural values on the lives of Chicanas. Cultural values may serve as a protective factor for Mexican-origin

8. (Re)Visioning Intimate Relationships

families (Parra-Cardon et al., 2006). Research is still needed to address how values, such as familism and simpatia, could serve to foster resiliency in Chicanas and their relationships as they navigate their place in the larger culture. Adherence to traditional cultural values, however, may vary depending on factors such as acculturation levels and country of birth. Researchers must be cautious in inferring the benefit of these values without directly understanding their salience for each women. It is also important to be aware that cultural values may have different meanings for men and women in the culture, resulting in disparities in how a particular value will influence women’s relationships. Research is also needed to empirically determine the extent to which Chicanas have internalized the dichotomous images of marianismo and machismo, while being aware of diversity within the population. It is also important to determine the origins of these internalizations, and whether they are structural or cultural. We need to ask how these images perpetuate the oppression of Chicanas from within their own culture, while at the same time recognizing the way in which the larger culture is often oppressive toward Latinos in general. We also need to empirically determine how stereotypes of Mexican-origin men and women are perpetuated in research, looking within our own field to see how definitions of Latino men and women can be expanded and explored beyond the more simplistic dichotomies. These images create unrealistic expectations of behaviors in families, images that neither all women nor men can achieve. These new research questions will not solely arise from family research; we need to look outside the field to search for questions, including Chicana feminist literature, ethnic minority research, and research being conducted outside the United States. This will aid in understanding the growing Mexican-origin population. Additionally, the complexities and multiplicity of Chicanas’ lives necessitates the utilization of multiple epistemologies and methods for documenting women’s experiences. Furthermore, it is necessary to be intentional about incorporating women’s voices into this new dialogue. Diversity mindfulness involves the process of perceiving and processing a multiplicity of differences among individuals,

105

their social contexts, and their cultures. It also incorporates the feminist values of diversity, egalitarianism, and inclusiveness into critical analyses (Russo & Vaz, 2001). Empirical knowledge is limited about the family lives of low-income Chicanas with little formal education, the majority of whom are Mexican immigrants. Valuable knowledge of women located at this intersection is found in literature, poetry, and songs, along with other nonempirical sources of knowledge. These works help illuminate the interplay between gender, culture, and class in affecting the experiences of Mexican origin. Family scientists need to look to this work as a source of knowledge and inspiration. Feminist theory is a critical theory that requires careful scrutiny of the status quo. Therefore, as a Chicana feminist, one must find a balance between searching for sources of gendered inequalities within our own communities and fighting ethnic or racial oppression. Firsthand experience as an insider can facilitate this work and help negotiate this balance. Outsiders can contribute to this work by approaching it with true interest and respect of other’s reality. However, outsiders need to be mindful of others’ unique experiences and recognize that, even with fluent command of the language, they may miss subtleties of the population. Being an insider gives one a unique understanding of a population’s reality; however, given the diversity across Chicanas, insiders should also approach their research with caution so as not to impose their own biases on others’ experiences. The ultimate purpose of incorporating Chicana feminism into family research includes finding strengths within the Mexican-origin community, with the goal of highlighting women’s experiences and noting sources of empowerment. The strengths of the Mexicanorigin community may include a strong sense of altruism and a dedication toward improving their communities (Delgado Bernal, 2002). It is important to consider that sources of empowerment that enhance women’s experiences within families may come from within Mexican culture. Chicana feminism teaches us about a history of Chicanas’ marginalization. Within the field of family studies, Chicanas’ voices remain largely unheard. As family scholars, it is imperative that we begin to listen.

106

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

REFERENCES Anzaldúa, G. (1987). Borderlands/la frontera: The new Mestiza. San Francisco: Aunt Lute Books. Arciniega, G. M., Anderson, T. C., Tovar-Blank, Z. G., & Tracey, T. J. G. (2008). Toward a fuller conception of machismo: Development of a traditional machismo and caballerismo scale. Journal of Counseling Psychology, 55, 19–33. Arellano, L. M., & Ayala-Alcantar, C. (2004). Multiracial feminism for Chicana/o psychology. In R. J. Velásquez, L. M. Arellano, & B. W. McNeill (Eds.), The handbook of Chicana/o psychology and mental health (pp. 215–230). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Baca Zinn, M. (1980). Gender and ethnic identity among Chicanos. Frontiers, 2, 18–24. Baca Zinn, M. (1982). Chicano men and masculinity. Journal of Ethnic Studies, 10, 29–40. Baca Zinn, M. (1990). Family, feminism and race in America. Gender & Society, 4, 68–82. Barnett, K. A., Del Campo, R. L., Del Campo, D. S., & Steiner, R. L. (2003). Work and family balance among dual-earner working-class Mexican-Americans: Implications for therapists. Contemporary Family Therapy, 25, 353–366. Casas, J. M., Wagenheim, B. R., Banchero, R., & Mendoza-Romero, J. (1995). Hispanic masculinity: Myth or psychological schema meriting clinical consideration (pp. 231–244). In A. M. Padilla (Ed.), Hispanic psychology: Critical issues in theory and research. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Castillo, A. (1994). Massacre of the dreamers: Essays on Xicanismo. New York: Plume. Coltrane, S. (2000). Research on household labor: Modeling and measuring the social embeddedness of routine family work. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 1208–1233. Coltrane, S., Parke, R. D., Adams, M. (2004). Complexity of father involvement in low-income Mexican American families. Family Relations, 53, 179–189. Cromwell, R. E., & Ruiz, R. A. (1979). The myth of macho dominance in decision-making within Mexican and Chicano families. Hispanic Journal of Behavioral Sciences, 1, 355–373. De La Torre, A. (1993). Hard choices and changing roles among Mexican migrant campesinas. In A. De La Torre & B. Pesquera (Eds.), Building with our hands: New directions in Chicana studies. Los Angeles: University of California Press. Delgado Bernal, D. (2002). Critical race theory, Latino critical race theory, and critical raced-gendered epistemologies: Recognizing students of color as holders and creators of knowledge. Qualitative Inquiry, 8, 105–126. Gándara, P. (1982). Passing through the eye of the needle: Highachieving Chicanas. Hispanic Journal of Behavioral Sciences, 4, 167–179. García, A. M. (1997a). Chicana feminist thought: The basic historical writings. New York: Routledge. García, A. M. (1997b). The development of Chicana feminist discourse. In D. J. Bixler-Marquez, C. F. Ortega, R. Soloranzo Torres, & L. Lafarelle (Eds.), Chicano studies: Survey and analysis (pp. 123–130). Dubuque, IA: Kendall/Hunt. González-López, G. (2003). De madres a hijas: Gendered lessons on virginity across generations of Mexican immigrant women. In P. Hondagneu-Sotelo, Gender and U.S. immigration: Contemporary trends. Berkeley: University of California Press. Harris, R. J., Firestone, J. M., & Vega, W. A. (2005). The interaction of country of origin, acculturation, and gender role ideology on wife abuse. Social Science Quarterly, 86, 463–483. Hurtado, A. (1989). Relating to privilege: Seduction and rejection in the subordination of White women and women of color. Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society, 14(41), 833–855. Lucero-Liu, A. A. (2007). Exploring intersections in the intimate lives of Mexican origin women (Doctoral dissertation, University of Arizona, 2007). Dissertation Abstracts International, 68(3-A), 1175.

Marín, G., & Marín, B. V. (1991). Research with Hispanic populations. Applied social research methods series (Vol. 23). Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Markus, H. R., & Kitayama, S. (1991). Culture and the self: Implications for cognitions, emotion, and motivation. Psychological Review, 98, 224–253. Mirandé, A. (1988). Chicano fathers: Traditional perceptions and current realities. In P. Bronstein, C. Cowan, & C. Pape (Eds.), Fatherhood today: Men’s changing role in the family (pp. 93–106). Oxford, UK: Wiley. Niemann, Y. F. (2004). Stereotypes of Chicanas and Chicanos: Impact on family functioning, individual expectation, goals, and behavior. In R. J. Velásques, L. M. Arellano, & B. W. McNeill (Eds.), The handbook of Chicana/o psychology and mental health (61–82). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Orozco, C. (1997). Sexism in Chicano studies and the community. In A. M. Garcia (Ed.), Chicana feminist thought: The basic historical writings. New York: Routledge. Parado, E. A., & Flippen, C. A. (2005). Migration and gender among Mexican women. American Sociological Review, 70, 606–632. Parra-Cardona, J. R., Bulock, L. A., Imig, D. R., Villarruel, F. A., & Gold, S. J. (2006). “Trabajando duro todos los días”: Learning from the life experiences of Mexican-origin migrant families. Family Relations, 55, 361–375. Pesquera, B. (1993). In the beginning he wouldn’t even lift a spoon. In A. De La Torre & B. Pesquera (Eds.), Building with our hands: New directions in Chicana studies (pp. 181–195). Los Angeles: University of California Press. Pesquera, B., & Segura, D. (1997). There is no going back: Chicanas and feminism. In A. Garcia (Ed.), Chicana feminist thought. New York: Routledge. Pessar, P. R. (2003). Endangering migration studies: The case of new immigrants in the United States. In P. Hondagneu-Sotelo (Ed.), Gender and U.S. immigration: Contemporary trends. Berkeley: University of California Press. Phinney, J. S. (1996). When we talk about American ethnic groups, what do we mean? American Psychologist, 51, 918–927. Phinney, J. S., & Flores, J. (2002). Unpacking of acculturation: Aspects of acculturation as predictors of traditional sex role attitudes. Journal of Cross-Cultural Psychology, 33, 320–331. Prado, M. S. (1998). Mexican American women activists: Identity and resistance in two Los Angeles communities. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Roth, B. (2007). A dialogical view of the emergence of Chicana feminist discourse. Critical Sociology, 33, 709–730. Russo, N. F., & Vaz, K. (2001). Addressing diversity in the decade of behavior: Focus on women of color. Psychology of Women Quarterly, 25, 280–294. Sabogal, F., Marín, G., Otero-Sabogal, R., Marín, B. V., & PerezStable, E. J. (1987). Hispanic familism and acculturation: What changes and what doesn’t? Hispanic Journal of Behavioral Sciences, 9, 397–412. Sarkisian, N., Gerena, M., & Gerstel, N. (2007). Extended family integration among Euro and Mexican Americans: Ethnicity, gender, and class. Journal of Marriage and Family, 69, 40–54. Schwartz, S. H. (1994). Beyond individualism-collectivism: New cultural dimensions of values. In U. Kim, H. C. Triandis, C. Kagitcibasi, S.-C. Choi, & G. Yoon (Eds.), Individualism and collectivism: Theory, method and application (pp. 85–119). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Segura, D. A. (2001). Review essay: Challenging the Chicano text: Toward a more inclusive contemporary causa. Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society, 26, 541–550. Segura, D. A. (2003). Navigating between two worlds: The labyrinth of Chicana intellectual production in the academy. Journal of Black Studies, 34, 28–51. Sotomayor-Peterson, M. (2008). Parental cultural values, coparental, and familial functioning in Mexican immigrant families: Its impact on children’s social competence. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Arizona, Tucson.

8. (Re)Visioning Intimate Relationships Triandis, H. C., Marín, G., Lisansky, J., & Betancourt, H. (1984). Simpatía as a cultural script of Hispanics. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 47, 1363–1375. Updegraff, K. A., Crouter, A. C., Umana-Taylor, A. J., & Cansler, E. (2007). Work-family linkages in the lives of families of Mexican origin. In J. E. Lansford, K. Deater-Deckard, & M. Bornstein (Eds.), Immigrant families in contemporary society (pp. 250–267). New York: Guilford Press. U.S. Census Bureau. (2002). The Hispanic population in the United States: March 2002. Washington, DC: U.S. Department of Commerce. U.S. Census Bureau. (2006). Press release: July 2006. Washington, DC: U.S. Department of Commerce. U.S. Census Bureau. (2008). Press Release: May 2008. Washington, DC: U.S. Department of Commerce.

107

Ybarra, L. (1982). When wives work: The impact on the Chicano family. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 44, 169–178. Yep, A. G. (1995). Communicating the HIV/AIDS risk to Hispanic populations: A review and integration. In A. M. Padilla (Ed.), Hispanic psychology: Critical issues in theory and research (pp. 196–212). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Yu, J. J., Lucero-Liu, A. A., Gamble, W. C., Taylor, A. R., Christensen, D. H., & Modry-Mandell, K. L. (2008). Partner effects of Mexican cultural values: The couple and parenting relationships. Journal of Psychology: Interdisciplinary and Applied, 142, 169–192. Zavella, P. (1989). The problematic relationship of feminism and Chicana studies. Women’s Studies, 17, 25–36.

9 LESBIAN PARENTS AND THEIR FAMILIES Complexity and Intersectionality From a Feminist Perspective A BBIE E. G OLDBERG

T

his chapter will demonstrate how feminist research on lesbian-parent families has challenged and re-visioned biological, emotional, and legal notions of motherhood, parenthood, and family. By attending not only to the inequalities and differences between lesbian parents and heterosexual parents but also to the inequalities, diversity, and contradictions among lesbian parents, feminist scholarship has shed light on the diverse ways in which lesbian mothers both challenge and are challenged by the traditional nuclear family and the inherently gendered and patriarchal nature of the social structure (e.g., Gabb, 2004, 2005). For example, feminist analyses have illustrated ways in which lesbian mothers may define their ideas about and experience of motherhood within the gendered boundaries of traditional parenting (Gabb, 2005), but they may also (simultaneously or alternately) resist and push traditional definitions of motherhood and parenthood (Gabb, 2005). Furthermore, by exploring the diversity within lesbian mothers, feminist 108

scholarship has contributed to our understanding of intersectionality and difference (Walker, 2004). For example, Gabb’s (2004) analysis of the ambiguities, inconsistencies, and complexity of lesbian-mother families challenges homogenized depictions of lesbian parents as a group that universally values and embodies an egalitarian model of relationship and child rearing (Calhoun, 1997). Depictions of lesbian parents as a monolithic group, defined as separate from or in opposition to heterosexual parents, are vulnerable to the same criticisms as early investigations of Black women versus White women or Black women versus Black men (McCall, 2005). Such depictions do not take into account women’s multiple social locations and fail to capture the complexity of lived experience. In this chapter, I highlight feminist scholarship that has explicitly theorized about intersections of social class, race, and ethnicity in the lives of lesbian mothers and their families. Feminist scholars have increasingly emphasized the

9. Lesbian Parents and Their Families

importance of examining intersectionality— that is, the relationships among multiple dimensions and modalities of social relations and subject formations (McCall, 2005)—in the context of the family (Allen, 2000; Collins, 1990) and, in turn, the need to understand family members’ experiences in the context of larger systems of power (Ferree, 1990). As such, feminist family scholars have begun to examine the intersections among race, gender, social class, and other social statuses (e.g., Ferree, Lorber, & Hess, 1999; Goldberg & Perry-Jenkins, 2004), including sexual orientation (Greene, 2000a). Feminist scholarship that has critically examined the intersection between sexual orientation and gender in lesbian-parent families (Gabb, 2005; Goldberg & Allen, 2007) has served to challenge notions of lesbians as antifamily and has demonstrated the revisionist potentialities of lesbian family life. However, other social statuses, in combination with sexual orientation and gender, do not always receive equal attention, which necessarily limits our theorizing and understanding of lesbian-parent families. Much of the research on lesbian parents has been conducted with middle-class White lesbians (Goldberg, 2006; Patterson, 1995), whereas lesbian mothers of color, working-class lesbian mothers, religiously devout lesbian mothers, and disabled lesbian mothers have rarely been included in formal studies. Furthermore, few scholars (Lorde, 1984; Moore, 2006, 2007) have discussed or even speculated on the nuances and implications of such complex intersections in lesbian parents, who as a group are vulnerable to oppression and marginalization. Thus, special focus on the limited feminist scholarship that does explore these intersections is warranted. This scholarship challenges us to consider the additional complexities that are introduced when other dimensions of diversity are examined and to reflect on the ways in which our understanding of families, relationships, sexual orientation, and gender are further transformed by such inquiry. Next, I explore the ways in which feminist scholarship on lesbian motherhood has challenged and expanded our understanding of parenting and family roles, particularly in its probing of the complexity and diversity among lesbian mothers. Then, I move to examine feminist scholarship that has explicitly examined the

109

intersections of social class and race with sexual orientation in the context of family, noting the ways in which this research further expands our understanding of family diversity. I conclude by (re)visiting the meaning and utility of intersectionality, particularly as it applies to feminist scholarship on lesbian mothers.

PROBING THE RESEARCH ON LESBIAN MOTHERHOOD, PARENTING ROLES, AND THE DIVISION OF LABOR A feminist perspective encourages us to examine contradiction and complexity (Ferree, 1990), particularly as they occur in families (Baber & Allen, 1992). This perspective problematizes gender at individual, interpersonal, and structural levels (Ferree, 1990) and thereby recognizes that families in general and motherhood specifically are sources of both joy and oppression for women. Both can be sources of growth and empowerment, but they have also tied women to traditional roles and to dependence on men (Baber & Allen, 1992). Lesbians who wish to become mothers, then, seem to be escaping one potential source of oppression in family life. And yet in pursuing parenthood, they inevitably find themselves caught in the larger web of patriarchy in which heterosexuality and reproduction are deeply intertwined. It is in this way that they find themselves both challenged by and also challenging assumptions about the interdependency of marriage, reproduction, and child rearing, as well as fundamental notions about what constitutes a family (Goldberg & Allen, 2007). They are much like heterosexual couples who are unsuccessful in conceiving and who look to adoption as a means of creating a family (Daniluk & Hurtig-Mitchell, 2003) but further push the boundaries of family by violating expectations about heterosexuality and disrupting heteronormativity on theoretical and practical levels. From a feminist perspective, lesbian motherhood challenges heteronormative assumptions about family (e.g., all “healthy” families are headed by a mother and father; all children are conceived via heterosexual sex) and notions of lesbians as antifamily (i.e., lesbians are often depicted as selfish and pleasure seeking, in contrast to motherhood, which embodies feminine

110

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

qualities of altruism and sacrifice). Some feminist scholars have argued that lesbian mothers are “family outlaws” who exist outside the gender praxis and who are therefore liberated from the strictures of “the family” (Calhoun, 1997). From this perspective, lesbian mothers are free to construct their relationships and parental roles in ways that are not dictated by and do not conform to gender-differentiated expectations and norms. Research suggests that lesbian parents do appear to share domestic and paid labor more equally than heterosexual couples (e.g., Patterson, Sutfin, & Fulcher, 2004), a finding which is typically explained in terms of lesbians’ shared gender and corresponding awareness of power inequities. In turn, feminist scholars (e.g., Dunne, 1998, 2000) have suggested that shared lesbian motherhood illuminates “what can be achieved when gender difference as a fundamental structuring principle in interpersonal relationships is minimized” (Dunne, 2000, p. 13). Such “achievements” include the evolution of more egalitarian approaches to work, parenting, and finances. While lesbians on average do tend to share labor more equally than heterosexual couples, this finding has tended to overshadow the relative inequities within some couples and the diversity of lesbian parenting arrangements: Studies have tended to minimize evidence of inequities within lesbian couples and have tended to depict them as pioneering, egalitarian models that differ notably from traditional, heterosexual family forms (Dunne, 1998). Feminist scholars such as Gabb (2005), Goldberg and Perry-Jenkins (2007), Sullivan (1996), and others have found that, in fact, an egalitarian model of child rearing is not typical of all lesbian-parent families. Using qualitative methodology, which lends itself to the examination of complexity and contradictions in participants’ lived experiences, these scholars identified notable diversity in women’s labor and role arrangements. Goldberg and PerryJenkins examined the transition to parenthood among inseminating lesbian couples and found that 60% of birth mothers and 80% of nonbirth mothers felt that biological motherhood did not play a role in shaping their parental roles: the birth mother was not experienced as more primary. Of course, this leaves a sizeable minority of women that do perceive the birth mother as more primary. Similarly,

Sullivan found that while most lesbian couples perceived the distribution of unpaid and paid labor as relatively equal, a minority of couples did adhere to a breadwinner and primary caregiver arrangement (which tended to occur along the lines of biology: nonbiological mothers worked, and birth mothers stayed home). In these couples, the stay-at-home partner was rendered economically dependent and vulnerable, which resulted in a decline in their family decision-making power. Finally, Gabb (2004, 2005) observed that none of the couples in her study of lesbian mothers shared child care equally, and in several cases, the division of labor was suggestive of the traditional male-female model. That scholarship has tended to emphasize the dominant, egalitarian themes (and to resist probing themes of inequity and dissatisfaction) is problematic. As Gabb (2004) has argued, While research may concede that not all lesbian parent families are “progressive,” quotation and analyses typically highlights those who are. Those who represent more traditional family forms are written out by default . . . political motivation often over-determines analyses of lesbian and gay families. (p. 174)

This tendency has produced a homogenizing discourse that minimizes divergences and inequities in these families, thereby obscuring the diversity in women’s experiences. Furthermore, in addition to more deeply probing the diversity in role arrangements in lesbian-mother families, it may also be necessary to reexamine our assumptions about what it means to be “progressive” or “egalitarian”: Indeed, few researchers have probed the possibility that egalitarianism (as conceptualized by family scholars in relation to heterosexual, middle-class couples) may indeed be enacted, interpreted, and understood differently in the lesbian-mother context (or among particular groups of lesbian mothers) (Moore, 2007). In any case, some research suggests that one potential source of role polarization in lesbianmother families is the biological status of the parent: the fact that one mother carries and bears the child and one mother does not. This distinction may have implications beyond the division of labor. In that biology is deeply tied to notions of family, the biological differential

9. Lesbian Parents and Their Families

inevitably shapes negotiations and dynamics within and outside the family. Inseminating Lesbian Couples: Negotiating Biology American cultural interpretations of kinship and parenthood reflect biologism, a tendency to emphasize the primacy of biological connections in relationships (Modell & Dambacher, 1997). Biological relationships are often regarded as stronger and more important than social relationships; thus, biological lesbian mothers (who carry and bear their children and are genetically related to their children) are, by society’s standards, “more” the parents than nonbiological, social lesbian mothers. The biological lesbian mother’s role is one that is recognized and supported by society (Lewin, 1993). She is the one who is demonstrably pregnant, who gives birth to the child, and who breastfeeds. In this way, her role conforms to cultural and social expectations about motherhood. The nonbiological mother does not conform to preconceived social categories, as she is neither the biological mother nor the father. Thus, her existence confuses and disrupts the heteronormative model of childbearing and child rearing. Biological mothers’ and comothers’ experiences are, in some ways, very different, even during the pregnancy: The biological lesbian mother-to-be is highly visible, by virtue of her pregnant belly, thus inviting inquiries about her relationship status and sexuality. The nonbiological lesbian mother-to-be, however, may feel invisible, even to friends and family members. Such feelings of invisibility and lack of recognition may continue into parenthood (Bos, Van Balen, Sanfort, & Van Den Boom, 2004). Thus, it is important to recognize the context in which lesbian couples become parents: Even the most egalitarianminded and committed couple will inevitably come face-to-face with a social system that privileges biological ties (Modell & Dambacher, 1997), believes in the primacy of attachment to one primary parent (Bowlby, 1951, p. 179), and conceptualizes motherhood as a one-woman job (Bowlby, p. 179). Lesbian parents challenge these basic assumptions about parenthood. As two women, they live outside the heteronormative ideal and resist notions of “mandatory fatherhood” (Goldberg & Allen, 2007). For example, while

111

lesbian mothers often acknowledge their desire to have their children exposed to “good, strong men,” they do not feel the need to “supply” their children with father figures per se (Goldberg & Allen). But lesbians’ revolutionizing of family must always be considered within the context of larger social pressures and legal realities, as these necessarily shape (and are shaped by) lesbian comotherhood. Hence, a tension may arise between lesbian mothers’ desire for equality and the pull to conform to conventional sets of expectations and obligations, such as those that govern (biological) motherhood (Almack, 2005). As an example, consider the ways in which lesbian parents negotiate naming practices. Some lesbian couples give their children the nonbiological mother’s last name, as a means of asserting her relationship to the child. Other couples choose hyphenation, to symbolize the child’s equivalent connection to both parents (Almack). Still other couples choose to give the child the birth mother’s surname. In her study of lesbian mothers, Almack found that these women typically offered very little explanation, if at all, for this decision, which attests to the unstated power of biological motherhood. And, among couples who gave their children the nonbiological mother’s surname, birth mothers sometimes experienced ambivalence about this decision. They did it because it was “fair” but nevertheless wanted to claim something “special and exclusive’” about birth motherhood and biological connections (p. 249). These two desires—their wish to have something “special” with their child and their goal of maintaining equality— are at odds. Of course, the significance of the biological differential between members of lesbian couples extends beyond intrafamilial dynamics. That is, the biological differential also confers a legal differential, a distinction that is profoundly significant and has widespread implications. The Intersection of Biological and Legal Ties Lesbian motherhood sheds light on the interconnectedness among key aspects of “the family”: namely, legal, social/affective, and biological aspects of kinship. In heterosexual, biological families, these facets tend to align together such that family relationships = biological relationships = legal relationships. Lesbian motherhood

112

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

disentangles these components of family relationships. The biological differential that exists between members of lesbian couples necessarily introduces a legal differential: Birth mothers have automatic legal custody of their children, whereas comothers do not. In some states, the nonbiological mother can seek a “second-parent adoption,” which allows women to adopt their partner’s biological child without requiring her to give up her legal rights. However, secondparent adoptions have been granted by the courts in fewer than half of U.S. states (Pawelski et al., 2006). Couples who cannot obtain a secondparent adoption may seek out lawyers and obtain legal safeguards in an effort to protect and assert the nonbiological mother’s parental status. Many couples, though, cannot afford such protections and/or fail to see their necessity, and in such cases, the nonlegal mother remains additionally vulnerable. In this way, women’s social class standing may have implications for their legal and emotional security when it comes to parenthood. The absence of a legal relationship to one’s child undermines one’s efforts to be experienced (by one’s partner and child) and seen (by one’s family and society) as a “real” mother (Connolly, 2002). Signing school report cards, visiting a hospitalized child, and giving consent for a medical procedure for one’s child in the birth mother’s absence—all become legal rights issues for the nonbiological parent (Pawelski et al., 2006; Rich, 1986). Feminist research has probed the implications of such legal protections on lesbian mothers’ parental identities. Interviews with lesbian nonbiological mothers suggest that obtaining a secondparent adoption can be incredibly affirming (Connolly, 2002; Hequembourg & Farrell, 1999). Women report feeling more “settled” in their role as a parent, less emotionally vulnerable, and less anxious about the possibility of losing custody should something happen to their partners (Connolly, 2002; Goldberg & Perry-Jenkins, 2007). This legal safeguard also functions as a symbolic recognition of the nonbiological mother’s role as a parent and may encourage family members to be more respectful of her parental status (Connolly, 2002). Furthermore, children benefit from the security of knowing that their relationships with both of their parents are protected (Pawelski et al., 2006). The legal and financial barriers to obtaining a second-parent adoption can have devastating

consequences, particularly if couples dissolve their relationships. The biological lesbian mother wields (relative) biological, legal, and social privilege, whereas the nonbiological mother’s parental status is legally unrecognized and socially invalidated. Members of lesbianparent couples may feel uncomfortable acknowledging the differences that exist between them and the relative power that biological mothers hold over their partners and in turn may minimize such differences. But while the significance of biological ties may be unstated, it is not unknown: Dunne (2000) found that among lesbian couples in which each partner carried a child, “the rule of biological connection is unquestioned in the assumption that in the event of a breakup each will depart into the horizon with her own child” (p. 23). The legal inequality that exists between biological and nonbiological mothers, combined with the social invalidation of the nonbiological mothers’ parental role, tends to intensify feelings of vulnerability on the part of nonbiological mothers and places them in untenable positions that influence postdissolution custody arrangements (Turteltaub, 2002). If a couple splits up, the birth mother’s parental status is virtually always affirmed (Allen, 2007; Turteltaub), particularly when the nonbiological mother has no legal relationship to her child. In one study of 77 lesbian couples, 30 had separated by the time their children were 10; of these 30 couples, custody was shared after 13 separations, and the birth mother retained sole or primary custody in 15 cases (Gartrell, Rodas, Deck, Peyser, & Banks, 2006). Couples in which the comother had obtained a second-parent adoption were more likely to share custody. In sum, the absence of legal supports, few financial resources, and beliefs about the primacy of the biological mother may conspire to disadvantage the nonbiological mother and privilege the birth mother, thus reproducing and perpetuating systems of oppression and inequity. Adoptive Lesbian Couples: Legal Inequalities Not all lesbian parents confront issues of biology, however: Many lesbian couples create their families through adoption. Some lesbians may adopt to avoid a power imbalance (Pies, 1990), while others do not strongly desire a

9. Lesbian Parents and Their Families

biological relationship to their child. Their attraction to adoption as a means of building a family may in part stem from a definition of family that is defined less by biological ties and based more on affective ties (Oswald, 2002). A commitment to and interest in diversity, as well as a desire to give a child a good home, may also motivate some lesbians to pursue adoption as a means of becoming a parent (Goldberg, 2007). Some emerging scholarship has examined lesbians’ and gay men’s experiences of adoption, with special attention to their relationships and interactions with broader systems of power (Goldberg, Downing, & Sauck, 2007; Matthews & Cramer, 2006). Just as lesbian couples who pursue insemination confront heterosexism in their encounters with sperm banks, hospitals, and fertility treatment clinics, adoptive lesbian couples may encounter discrimination within the legal system, adoption agencies, and other social service agencies (Goldberg et al., 2007; Matthews & Cramer, 2006). While some states prohibit discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation against individuals who wish to become foster or adoptive parents, many states do not have such protections, which may lead some lesbians to hide their sexual orientation during the adoption process (Goldberg et al.). Furthermore, agency practices vary widely, and many agencies overtly or covertly privilege heterosexual prospective adoptive parents. Lesbian couples who choose international adoption are typically closeted during the adoption process: one partner adopts as the “official” (single) parent, and the other partner is unacknowledged (e.g., she may be portrayed as the “roommate”). Such closeting can place strain on the couple’s relationship and lead to feelings of invisibility and frustration on the part of the nonlegal partner, as they navigate the inequities both within the relationship and between the couple and the outside world (Goldberg et al.). Couples in which only one parent officially adopted may experience power struggles similar to those experienced by some inseminating couples, in that the discordant legal status of the couple may lead the legal parent to feel that she should have more voice in parenting decisions, which may create anger and resentment on the part of the nonlegal parent (Bennett, 2003). Thus, lesbians must navigate heterosexist systems to become parents and may negotiate within-couple inequities on the basis of their

113

legal parental status (which are invariably tied to broader social and legal inequalities). At the same time, lesbian adoptive parents show signs of resilience and adaptation. Scholars such as Bennett (2003) have pointed to the ways in which lesbian adoptive parents serve to transform notions of family, in that family members are not joined by marriage, they are not biologically related, and they are often of different races and cultural backgrounds. In the absence of marital and biological ties and a common cultural history, family members must build their relationships “from scratch” using relational/ affective ties as the foundation. The Revisionist Potentialities of Lesbian-Parent Families Lesbian-parent families, then, are characterized by incredible diversity and complexity, which is not always explored or fully revealed in research but which has the potential to expand our notions of family and gender. Some scholars have argued that lesbian-parent families are unscripted (Dunne, 1998, 2000; Hequembourg, 2004); that is, they do not have to fall back on gendered notions of parenting. Other scholars point out, however, that in becoming parents, lesbian mothers necessarily become part of the parenthood culture, and in doing so they may enter into a process of both resistance and accommodation. That is, they may resist gendered norms about parenting roles, but they may also accommodate to the cultural expectations governing parenthood in general and motherhood specifically (Lewin, 1993)—indeed, the deeply institutionalized character of gender as a productive mechanism of inequality cannot be overlooked (Sullivan, 1996). I would argue that both perspectives have meaning; that is, lesbian parents are not “wedded” to cultural gender and parenting norms, but they are aware of them (Goldberg & Allen, 2007). In this way, lesbian couples reveal a wide range of parenting arrangements, some that appear similar to traditional heterosexual parenting arrangements (e.g., one woman does more paid work, one woman does more unpaid work), some that look very different (e.g., both women contribute equally to paid and unpaid work), and some that we likely have yet to imagine, conceptualize, or understand. What is unique is lesbians’ relative freedom to choose labels, roles, and parenting

114

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

arrangements that suit them—that is, to socially construct parenthood—although (as will be discussed) the choices they make may be shaped by social class and opportunity, race and ethnicity, and other social locations. Furthermore, it is imperative to consider the possibility that while a particular role arrangement may appear “gendered” through a traditional family lens, it may not be experienced or interpreted in this way by lesbian mothers themselves. It is arguable that nonbiological mothers, in particular, are in a position to “create parenthood.” Because they have no genetic ties to their children, they cannot call on biologically based ideas about parenthood to define their parental roles. Rather, they must construct their roles socially as caregivers (Dalton & Bielby, 2000). Some nonbiological mothers (and some biological mothers) do indeed resist traditional notions of motherhood and mothering. Consider the following passage from Polly Pagenhart’s (2006) essay, “Confessions of a Lesbian Dad,” in which she describes the process of trying to explain to her friends why the label “mother” does not suit her and why she feels more comfortable (on the verge of impending parenthood) with terms like dyke daddy and lesbian father: Here I was now, looking at parenthood, feeling adrift, no parental prototype to steer by that didn’t trigger some cognitive tension at this visceral, gendered level. Every time I conjured up images of parenthood (which I could only see through the lens of motherhood), I couldn’t help picturing traditional icons: June Cleavers and Laura Petries and Carol Bradys. Where were the butch moms, I wondered? [So] that night at the dinner table I began, for the first time, to name (and defend) my parental self from a position slightly other than mother. Doing so helped me realize how much my emotional access to parenthood was predicated on my feeling comfortable with the title mother and the femininity that presumably went along with it. (pp. 38–39)

Here, Pagenhart (2006) begins to, in her words, “carve out a place for [her]self, linguistically, socially, [and] emotionally.” For Pagenhart, parenthood is infused with gender, and to fully embrace her parental role, she needs to free herself from the notion that she must be “a mother.” While she does draw on the social categories available to her (mother, father), she uses them

only as reference points and creates something new that defies definitions of mother or father. She is (re)inventing what it means to be a parent. In addition to (re)visioning gender, lesbian parents also have the potential to (re)vision motherhood. Adrienne Rich (1986) distinguishes between two meanings of motherhood: the experience of motherhood and the institution of motherhood, which “aims at ensuring that the potential—and all women—shall remain under male control” (p. 13). As women, lesbian mothers may not be entirely liberated from idealized motherhood—that is, an ideology of mothers as selfless caretakers who in part exist at the service of men—but they may experience more freedom to define motherhood on their own terms. As women in relationships with women, they also have the potential to share the joy, pain, ambivalence, and responsibility of motherhood, which may protect them from excessive feelings of exhaustion, emotional overload, and isolation.

BROADENING THE SCOPE OF LESBIAN-PARENT RESEARCH: INTERSECTIONALITY AND DIVERSITY A more comprehensive understanding of the diversity and complexity of lesbian mothers is gained when we consider the intersections of class and race with sexual orientation. Unfortunately, limited research has explored these intersections in the context of family life. Indeed, researchers often acknowledge the limited generalizability of their findings to lesbian parents of diverse racial groups and diverse social class backgrounds; less often, however, do they explicitly probe the specific ways in which varied social locations might transform the lesbian-mother experience. Feminist scholarship that addresses these intersections will be discussed next, with special attention to the questions that this work raises and its implications for our understanding of families in general and lesbian-parent families specifically. Social Class: Considering Education, Income, and Opportunity Lesbian parents take diverse routes to parenthood. Some lesbians become parents by themselves, in the absence of partners; some become

9. Lesbian Parents and Their Families

parents in the context of committed same-sex relationships (Gartrell et al., 1999; Goldberg, 2006). Other women become parents in the context of heterosexual relationships (and later come out as lesbian) (Tasker & Golombok, 1997). Some women form coparenting relationships with women and/or men (Ryan-Flood, 2005). Furthermore, some lesbians give birth to their children, others have partners who give birth, and yet others adopt. These diverse routes to parenthood intersect with other social locations, resulting in great diversity and complexity with regard to what it means to be a lesbian mother. The route by which lesbians become parents may be conflated with social class and economic privilege. Many lesbian mothers cannot afford the services that accompany alternative insemination, never mind the practical barriers that lesbians must face in navigating a system that discriminates against nonheterosexual women pursuing reproductive assistance (Murphy, 2001). In one study of lesbian couples pursuing alternative insemination, couples spent an average of $5,750 getting pregnant (Goldberg, 2006). Adoption costs can also be expensive: The average cost of a private domestic adoption in Massachusetts in 2004 was $16,000; the average cost of an international adoption was $8,000 (Center for Adoption Research, 2004). Public adoption (via the child welfare system) is the least expensive means of becoming a parent; however, some states do not allow lesbians and gay men to adopt, and some states have no official policy but tend to discriminate against sexual minorities (Ryan, Pearlmutter, & Groza, 2004). Thus, financial resources and social class may intersect with the means of becoming parents in ways that have not yet been subject to analysis. Research with lesbian couples tends to be conducted with White, middle-class, financially stable couples (Dunne, 2000; Goldberg, 2006; Patterson, 1995) who have become parents via insemination. Studies of lesbian adoptive parents exist (e.g., Bennett, 2003), but these tend to focus on women who have adopted internationally, a method that requires significant financial resources. Few studies have as yet included lesbians who pursue public adoption (but see Leung, Erich, & Kanenberg, 2005); this is a group whose unique experiences and needs are rarely considered. Data from my own ongoing study of the transition to adoptive parenthood among same-sex couples suggest that lesbian

115

and gay couples who pursue public domestic adoption are typically motivated, at least in part, by financial considerations. These couples are prepared to struggle financially once they have a child but cannot afford the additional money that private adoption or insemination often requires. Lesbians with few financial resources, then, face inequity on multiple, intersecting levels: (a) They meet heterosexism in the broader community, via laws restricting them from becoming parents; (b) they face barriers to financial/social opportunity in the broader community; and (c) lacking the educational/ financial resources of a middle-class lifestyle, they may also face alienation within the lesbianparent community. White, middle-class lesbian mothers possess two privileged statuses—race and educational/financial privilege—which have the potential to mitigate their oppressed statuses (i.e., their gender and sexual orientation). These women can choose to live in places where their families experience relative protection from lesbian/gay discrimination, and they can afford to send their children to schools where harassment related to family structure is less likely (Croteau, Talbot, Lance, & Evans, 2002). As Gabb (2004) and other feminist scholars have noted, the reality and implications of social class differences within the lesbian-parent community have not been adequately addressed in research. Feminist research on motherhood has clearly illustrated the impact of social factors on parenting among women (McMahon, 1995); however, studies of lesbian-parent families typically downplay or do not explore the effects of material differences on parenting practices and processes (Gabb, 2004). Social class—whether it is defined in terms of educational attainment, financial resources, and/or occupation—is “crucial in determining how lesbians parent and in affecting the ‘choices’ available to us,” asserts Gabb (p. 172). Work arrangements (including whether both parents work, how many hours they work, whether one or both parents choose jobs that are financially stable over those that are less well paying but more personally satisfying) and child care arrangements are affected by socioeconomic factors. Working-class lesbians lack power on multiple levels; as sexual minorities in male-dominated, blue-collar workplaces, for example, they experience less freedom to be “out” at work (McDermott, 2006; Taylor, 2005). McDermott investigated the work experiences of

116

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

middle-class and working-class lesbians and found that the latter group was more likely to be employed in settings where heterosexuality was heavily regulated. How do such dynamics influence working-class lesbians’ relationships with their partners, children, and the larger community? To what extent do working-class lesbian mothers experience tensions with middle-class lesbian parents, whose political activeness and value systems may seem foreign to and inconsistent with the needs and experiences of lesbians with fewer resources? (Taylor, 2005). Such questions reveal the little we know about how social class may intersect with sexual orientation in shaping women’s experiences of motherhood and their negotiations with the broader parenthood culture. Consider Gabb’s (2005) finding that lesbian parents with fewer resources reported that their child care arrangements and parental roles were derived from pragmatic and often financial concerns, such as scheduling and work hours. This finding suggests that egalitarianism—at least as it has been conceived of by family scholars in relation to middle-class, White, heterosexual couples—may be facilitated by privilege. And yet, importantly, this finding has not made its way into the mainstream narrative about lesbian mothers: The research on (middleclass) lesbian mothers suggests that while financial considerations may play a role in child care arrangements and parental roles, other factors (such as who wants to stay home with the child or who bore the child) are more influential (Goldberg & Perry-Jenkins, 2007; Sullivan, 1996). Race and Ethnicity: Considering Racial Ethnic Diversity Within the Lesbian-Parent Community Just as important as examining social class diversity within lesbian-mother families is exploring racial, ethnic, and cultural diversity. The scholarship that does examine these intersections in the context of lesbian family life clearly points to their significance. For example, research on Black lesbians indicates that they often experience double discrimination: They may face homophobia within their families and communities, and they may also confront racism in the gay community (Greene, 2000a; Moore, 2006). Latino cultural attitudes toward homosexuality are also rejecting, and Catholic Latino communities are particularly disdainful

of homosexuality, which is considered a sin (Espin, 1993). Likewise, there is evidence that many Asian Americans view lesbianism as a concept that does not affect their culture (Chan, 1993); in turn, lesbians are often invisible in Asian American communities. Thus, for lesbians of color, coming out (by itself or in combination with announcing one’s intent to parent) may mean the loss of social, community, and economic resources. Cahill, Battle, and Meyer (2003) argue that Black lesbians’ parenting experiences have not been adequately addressed or incorporated into the literature on (heterosexual) Black families or lesbian (White) parents. They note that marginalization of Black lesbian-parents’ experiences restricts our understanding of the diversity of families and parenting. They cite evidence to suggest that Black same-sex couples may be more likely than White same-sex couples to raise children, which underscores the need for more research that considers intersection between race-ethnicity, sexual orientation, and parenthood status. Research on lesbians often emphasizes their conceptualization of and utilization of elaborate kinship structures (Oswald, 2002; Weston, 1991), which can include friends and family (Goldberg & Allen, 2007). Similarly, the literature on Black families often emphasizes the multigenerational nature of kinship structures (Mays & Cochran, 1998). Studies merging these two bodies of research have not yet been conducted. Does parenthood minimize homophobic tensions with extended family, and in turn engender greater support from family members, for Black lesbians? If not, how and where do Black lesbians turn for support? Race and sexual orientation also intersect with social class and geographic location. The experiences of Black and other racial-/ethnic-minority lesbians and their families who live in middleclass, urban communities will likely be very different from those of minority lesbians who reside in working-class, rural, and/or economically distressed areas. The latter group may face greater hostility and isolation. Racial- and ethnicminority lesbians face the task of teaching their children to develop a sense of pride in both their race/ethnicity and their family structure, in spite of societal racism and homophobia (Greene, 1990). In overtly hostile and repressive environments, racial-minority lesbians may find themselves struggling with decisions of visibility: They

9. Lesbian Parents and Their Families

may not be able to afford to be “out” in their communities, but at the same time, they strive to socialize their children to develop a sense of pride in themselves and their families. Because of their small numbers, lesbians of color are more likely than White lesbians to have relationships with women who do not share their race (Mays & Cochran, 1988). Interracial lesbian couples confront power and inequities on multiple levels: within the couple (with regard to race and possibly social class differences) and between the couple and the outside world. These couples may face unique challenges, including the heightened visibility of the relationship, antagonism from both families of origin, disapproval from White and Black lesbians, and White lesbians’ inexperience with dealing with racism (Greene, 2000b). Furthermore, while some couples may take an “us against the world” stance, the inequities that exist between partners may cause tension. Few scholars have discussed the dynamics of racism within the lesbian couple (but see Greene), perhaps assuming that interracial partners are not “racist” by virtue of the fact that they are in an interracial relationship. However, some women may hold conscious or unconscious racial stereotypes, which may in part fuel their motivations for entering into interracial unions (Pearlman, 1996). Pearlman acknowledges the possibility that the choice of a White partner by a racial minority individual could suggest lingering internalized racism, whereas the choice of a racial minority partner by a White person might indicate the need to feel powerful, as well as sexual objectification of the “other.” Perhaps more common is a scenario in which one partner (i.e., the partner of higher racial status) lacks racial consciousness. For example, a White partner may not be aware of the degree of race privilege that she has until she is harshly confronted with the reality of racism or she is challenged about her sense of entitlement (Pearlman). In this way, her partner’s race and her own race are made visible, an experience that may be illuminating and/or terrifying. Of note are lesbian couples in which both members are racial/ ethnic minorities. They do not necessarily avoid conflicts related to differences in racial consciousness: One partner may possess a highly politicized consciousness of race and racism, whereas the other may not view race as a central aspect of their identity and/or may not recognize

117

race as a basis of domination and privilege (Brush, 2001). Such divergences in racial consciousness may lead to conflict and frustration on the part of both partners. There is evidence to suggest that lesbian-parent families are becoming increasingly racially and ethnically diverse. Rates of adoption by sexual minorities are increasing (Gates & Ost, 2004), and lesbians often adopt children of color (Gates, Badgett, Macomber, & Chambers, 2007). Both opportunities and tensions may therefore emerge in lesbian-parent families in which several different races and ethnicities are represented. Lesbian couples who create racially diverse families through international adoption report sensitivity to both racial and ethnic differences within their families, as well as the issues of racism and homophobia that their children may face (Bennett, 2003). Likewise, a White lesbian whose partner and daughter are both Black is likely to be acutely aware of the ways in which her privileged status affords her certain protections that her family members do not experience; her partner, of course, may be even more aware of the ways in which she and her child are marginalized in society. A task for researchers is to better understand how couples negotiate such issues. However, on the most basic level, researchers of lesbian-mother families need to address issues of race directly. Discussions of lesbian-mother families often theorize exclusively about sexual orientation, thus perpetuating a homogenized discourse of lesbian-mother families and further reinforcing racial invisibility. More research on other racial and ethnic minority lesbian mothers is needed; the little research that exists is largely based on Black lesbians. Morris, Balsam, and Rothblum (2002) compared a diverse group of lesbian and bisexual mothers on a range of characteristics and found that Native American lesbian/bisexual women had the most children and were much more likely than women in other groups to be raising the children of a relative. The authors interpret this finding as perhaps reflective of a greater sense of family kinship among this ethnic group. Consistent with this notion, Williams (1998) observed that lesbians in Native American families often adopt children when the need arises in their communities. Morris et al. also found that Latina lesbian/ bisexual women were the most likely to have had children in the context of marriage or a

118

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

relationship with a man, which may reflect the more traditional, Catholic nature of Latino culture. These findings point to the need for considering the intersection of race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, and religion in understanding the diversity of mothering experiences.

FEMINIST CONTRIBUTIONS: CONCLUSIONS AND RECOMMENDATIONS Feminist scholarship on lesbian parenthood has generated important insights into the interrelationships among power, gender, biology, and sexual orientation. In particular, this work has illuminated the myriad ways in which broader social structures (the legal system; cultural ideologies about motherhood) have shaped (and been shaped by) lesbian-parent families, thus raising key questions for researchers about the role of context in shaping development. Some feminist scholarship has also highlighted the relevance of considering structural, interpersonal, and individual aspects of gender (Ferree, 1990; Risman, 2004): Indeed, as discussed, while lesbian mothers construct parental roles and labor divisions that may appear to reflect the power of the gender structure, such arrangements may be subjectively negotiated and interpreted in ways that perhaps are not fully understood through traditional lenses (i.e., the lenses that guide understanding of the interplay between societal gender constructions and [heterosexual] family life). Furthermore, the emerging scholarship on the experiences of racial-/ethnic-minority lesbians and working-class lesbians raises many theoretical and empirical questions to be pursued in future research. However, just as we must avoid assigning unique qualities to lesbian mothers in general (e.g., egalitarian-minded), we must be cautious about avoiding homogenization and stereotyping of lesbian mothers of color, working-class lesbian mothers, and other groups of lesbian mothers that we know little about, as doing so would obscure the diversity that is unknown but inherent in that group. A central question that remains is how to bring more of an intersectional lens to research on lesbian-parent families. One answer might appear to lie in methodology and sampling: That is, researchers must strive to obtain more racially, ethnically, financially, and educationally diverse samples of lesbian mothers, which may

require novel sampling methods (see Moore, 2006, for a description of how she recruited her sample of Black lesbians). Such studies are needed, and they will assist us in understanding the diverse experiences of lesbian mothers. However, as important as revising our sampling strategies is revising our conceptual and theoretical approach to intersectionality. Specifically, it is important that we develop a greater curiosity about and willingness to examine difference, as opposed to minimizing it, controlling it, or failing to even see that it exists. Indeed, the reality is that we may not always be able to study gender, race, class, and sexual orientation simultaneously. And, nor should we. Consider the words of Risman (2004), who notes that to focus all our research on the experience of interlocking identities and oppressions “would have us lose access to how the mechanisms for different kinds of inequality are produced” (p. 443). As Collins (1998a) notes, feminist scholarship needs a both/and strategy: We cannot study gender and sexual orientation in isolation from other aspects of difference and inequality, and nor can we only examine inequalities’ intersections and ignore the historical and contextual specificity of the mechanisms that produce various types of inequality (Risman, 2004). To illustrate this point, Risman (2004) cites Calhoun (2000), who argues that heterosexism cannot simply be understood as gender oppression; rather, it represents a separate system of oppression. In turn, it is important to identify causal mechanisms for heterosexism and gender oppression distinctly (and other axes of difference and social hierarchy), both for the purpose of theoretical and analytic clarity and also to advance social change. Indeed, the systems that produce and maintain different forms of oppression may differ, and knowledge of these specific mechanisms is necessary to ameliorate social inequalities. At the same time, even as we study one (or two, or three) axes of difference, we must recognize that these social locations necessarily connect to other systems of difference and oppression, which collectively define identity and experience (Collins, 1998b). In sum, I suggest that as researchers, we should remain open to the possibility of (indeed, perhaps the inevitability of) contradictions and complexity in our findings. A feminist approach to research involves straightforward acknowledgement and probing of contradictions and

9. Lesbian Parents and Their Families

diversity among lesbian mothers. Furthermore, we should seek to explicitly consider intersectionality in our work, attending to multiple social locations and listening for the role of larger structures in shaping women’s thinking, feelings, and experiences. In doing so, we will advance our knowledge and begin to give voice to the experiences of all lesbian mothers.

REFERENCES Allen, K. R. (2000). A conscious and inclusive family studies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 4–17. Allen, K. R. (2007). Ambiguous loss after lesbian couples with children break up: A case for same-sex divorce. Family Relations, 56, 175–183. Almack, K. (2005). What’s in a name? The significance of the choice of surnames given to children born within lesbian-parent families. Sexualities, 8, 239–254. Baber, K. M., & Allen, K. R. (1992). Women and families: Feminist reconstructions. New York: Guilford Press. Bennett, S. (2003). International adoptive lesbian families: Parental perceptions of the influence of diversity on family relationships in early childhood. Smith College Studies in Social Work, 74, 73–91. Bos, H. M. W., Van Balen, F., Sandfort, T., & Van Den Boom, D. C. (2004). Minority stress, experience of parenthood, and child adjustment in lesbian families. Journal of Reproductive and Infant Psychology, 22, 291–305. Bowlby, J. (1951). Maternal care and mental health (World Health Organization Monograph No. 2). Geneva, Switzerland: World Health Organization. Brush, P. S. (2001). Problematizing the race consciousness of women of color. Signs, 27, 171–198. Cahill, S., Battle, J., & Meyer, D. (2003). Partnering, parenting, and policy: Family issues affecting Black lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people. Race & Society, 6, 85–98. Calhoun, C. (1997). Family outlaws. Philosophical Studies, 87, 181–193. Center for Adoption Research. (2004). Adoption in Massachusetts: Private and public agency placements and practices. Dorcester: University of Massachusetts Medical School. Chan, C. S. (1993). Issues of identity development among AsianAmerican lesbians and gay men. In L. D. Garnets & D. C. Kimmel (Eds.), Psychological perspectives on lesbian and gay male experiences (pp. 376–387). New York: Columbia University Press. Collins, P. H. (1990). Black feminist thought: Knowledge, consciousness, and the politics of empowerment. Boston: Unwin Hyman. Collins, P. H. (1998a). Fighting words: Black women and the search for justice. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Collins, P. H. (1998b). Intersections of race, class, gender, and nation: Some implications for Black family studies. Comparative Family Studies, 29, 27–36. Connolly, C. (2002). The voice of the petitioner: The experiences of gay and lesbian parents in successful second-parent adoption proceedings. Law & Society Review, 36, 325–346. Croteau, J. M., Talbot, D. M., Lance, T. S., & Evans, N. J. (2002). A qualitative study of the interplay between privilege and oppression. Journal of Multicultural Counseling and Development, 30, 239–258. Dalton, S. E., & Bielby, D. D. (2000). “That’s our kind of constellation”: Lesbian mothers negotiate institutionalized understandings of gender within the family. Gender & Society, 14, 36–61.

119

Daniluk, J. C., & Hurtig-Mitchell, J. (2003). Themes of hope and healing: Infertile couples’ experiences of adoption. Journal of Counseling and Development, 81, 389–399. Dunne, G. A. (1998). Add sexuality and stir: Toward a broader understanding of the gender dynamics of work and family life. Journal of Lesbian Studies, 2, 1–8. Dunne, G. A. (2000). Opting into motherhood: Lesbians blurring the boundaries and transforming the meaning of parenthood and kinship. Gender & Society, 14, 11–35. Espin, O. M. (1993). Issues of identity in the psychology of Latina lesbians. In L. D. Garnets & D. C. Kimmel (Eds.), Psychological perspectives on lesbian and gay male experiences (pp. 348–363). New York: Columbia University Press. Ferree, M. M. (1990). Beyond separate spheres: Feminism and family research. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 52, 866–884. Ferree, M. M., Lorber, J., & Hess, B. B. (1999). Revisioning gender. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Gabb, J. (2004). Critical differentials: Querying the incongruities within research on lesbian parent families. Sexualities, 7, 167–182. Gabb, J. (2005). Lesbian m/otherhood: Strategies of familiallinguistic management in lesbian parent families. Sociology, 39, 385–603. Gartrell, N., Banks, A., Hamilton, J., Reed, N., Bishop, H., & Rodas, C. (1999). The National Lesbian Family Study: 2. Interviews with mothers of toddlers. American Journal of Orthopsychiatry, 69, 362–369. Gartrell, N., Rodas, C., Deck, A., Peyser, H., & Banks, A. (2006). The USA National Lesbian Family Study: Interviews with mothers of 10-year-olds. Feminism & Psychology, 16, 175–192. Gates, G., Badgett, M. V. L., Macomber, J. E., & Chambers, K. (2007). Adoption and foster care by gay and lesbian parents in the United States. Washington, DC: Urban Institute. Gates, G., & Ost, J. (2004). The gay and lesbian atlas. Washington, DC: Urban Institute Press. Goldberg, A. E. (2006). The transition to parenthood for lesbian couples. Journal of GLBT Family Studies, 2, 13–42. Goldberg, A. E. (2007). Lesbian and heterosexual couples’ decisionmaking regarding child race in the adoption process. Poster presented at the Groves Conference on Marriage and Family, Detroit, MI. Goldberg, A. E., & Allen, K. (2007). Imagining men: Lesbians’ ideas and intentions about male involvement during the transition to parenthood. Journal of Marriage and Family, 62, 352–365. Goldberg, A. E., Downing, J. B., & Sauck, C. C. (2007). Choices, challenges, and tensions: Perspectives of lesbian prospective adoptive parents. Adoption Quarterly, 10, 33–64. Goldberg, A. E., & Perry-Jenkins, M. (2004). The division of labor and working-class women’s well-being across the transition to parenthood. Journal of Family Psychology, 18, 225–236. Goldberg, A. E., & Perry-Jenkins, M. (2007). The division of labor and perceptions of parental roles: Lesbian couples across the transition to parenthood. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 24, 297–318. Greene, B. (1990). Sturdy bridges: The role of African-American mothers in the socialization of African-American children. Women and Therapy, 10, 205–225. Greene, B. (2000a). African American lesbian and bisexual women. Journal of Social Issues, 56, 239–249. Greene, B. (2000b). African-American lesbian and bisexual women in feminist-psychodynamic psychotherapies: Surviving and thriving between a rock and a hard place. In L. C. Jackson & B. Greene (Eds.), Psychotherapy with African-American women: Innovative psychodynamic perspectives and practice (pp. 82–125). New York: Guilford Press. Hequembourg, A. (2004). Unscripted motherhood: Lesbian mothers negotiate incompletely institutionalized family relationships. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 21, 739–762. Hequembourg, A. L., & Farrell, M. P. (1999). Lesbian motherhood: Negotiating marginal-mainstream identities. Gender & Society, 13, 540–557.

120

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

Leung, P., Erich, S., & Kanenberg, H. (2005). A comparison of family functioning in gay/lesbian, heterosexual and special needs adoptions. Children and Youth Services Review, 27, 1031–1044. Lewin, E. (1993). Lesbian mothers: Accounts of gender in American culture. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Lorde, A. (1984). Age, race, class, and sex: Women redefining difference. In A. Lorde (Ed.), Sister outsider (pp. 114–123). Freedom, CA: Crossing Press. Matthews, J. D., & Cramer, E. P. (2006). Envisaging the adoption process to strengthen gay- and lesbian-headed families: Recommendations for adoption professionals. Child Welfare, 85, 317–340. Mays, V., & Cochran, S. (1988). The Black women’s relationship project: A national survey of Black lesbians. In M. Shernoff & W. Scott (Eds.), The sourcebook on lesbian/gay health care (2nd ed., pp. 54–62). Washington, DC: National Lesbian and Gay Health Foundation. McCall, L. (2005). The complexity of intersectionality. Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society, 30, 1771–1800. McDermott, E. (2006). Surviving in dangerous places: Lesbian identity performances in the workplace, social class, and psychological health. Feminism & Psychology, 16, 193–211. McMahon, M. (1995). Engendering motherhood: Identity and selftransformation in women’s lives. New York: Guilford Press. Modell, J., & Dambacher, N. (1997). Making a “real” family: Matching and cultural biologism in American adoption. Adoption Quarterly, 1, 3–33. Moore, M. (2006). Lipstick or Timberlands? Meanings of gender presentation in Black lesbian communities. Signs, 32, 113–129. Moore, M. R. (2007, November). Soul Sisters and Prairie Flames: Lesbian & gay parenting in diverse community contexts. Special Session, National Council on Family Annual Conference, Pittsburgh, PA. Morris, J., Balsam, K., & Rothblum, E. (2002). Lesbian and bisexual mothers and nonmothers: Demographics and the comingout process. Journal of Family Psychology, 16, 144–156. Murphy, J. (2001). Should lesbians count as infertile couples? Antilesbian discrimination in assisted reproduction. In M. Bernstein & R. Reimann (Eds.), Queer families, queer politic: Challenging culture and the state (pp. 182–200). New York: Columbia University Press. Oswald, R. (2002). Resilience within the family networks of lesbians and gay men: Intentionality and redefinition. Journal of Marriage and Family, 64, 374–383. Pagenhart, P. (2006). Confessions of a lesbian dad. In H. Aizley (Ed.), Confessions of the other mother: Nonbiological lesbian moms tell all (pp. 35–58). Boston: Beacon Press.

Patterson, C. J. (1995). Families of the lesbian baby boom: Parents’ division of labor and children’s adjustment. Developmental Psychology, 31, 115–123. Patterson, C., Sutfin, E., & Fulcher, M. (2004). Division of labor among lesbian and heterosexual couples: Correlates of specialized versus shared patterns. Journal of Adult Development, 11, 179–189. Pawelski, J. G., Perrin, E. C., Foy, J. M., Allen, C. E., Crawford, J. E., Del Monte, M., et al. (2006). The effects of marriage, civil union, and domestic partnership laws on the health and well-being of children. Pediatrics, 118, 349–364. Pearlman, S. (1996). Loving across race and class divides: Relational challenges and the interracial lesbian couple. Women & Therapy, 19, 25–35. Pies, C. (1990). Lesbians and the choice to parent. In F. W. Bozett & M. B. Sussman (Eds.), Homosexuality and family relations. New York: Harrington Park Press. Rich, A. (1986). Of woman born: Motherhood as experience and institution. New York: W. W. Norton. Risman, B. J. (2004). Gender as a social structure: Theory wrestling with activism. Gender & Society, 18, 429–450. Ryan, S. D., Pearlmutter, S., & Groza, V. (2004). Coming out of the closet: Opening agencies to gay and lesbian adoptive parents. Social Work, 49, 85–96. Ryan-Flood, R. (2005). Contested heteronormativities: Discourses of fatherhood among lesbian parents in Sweden and Ireland, Sexualities, 2, 189–204. Sullivan, M. (1996). Rozzie and Harriet? Gender and family patterns of lesbian coparents. Gender & Society, 10, 747–767. Tasker, F. L., & Golombok, S. (1997). Growing up in a lesbian family: Effects on child development. New York: Guilford Press. Taylor, Y. (2005). Real politik or real politics? Working-class lesbians’ political “awareness” and activism. Women’s Studies International Forum, 28, 484–494. Turteltaub, G. L. (2002). The effects of long-term primary relationship dissolution on the children of lesbian parents. Dissertation Abstracts International: Section B: The Sciences and Engineering, 63(5-B), 2610. Walker, A. J. (2004). Methods, theory, and the practice of feminist research: A response to Janet Chafetz. Journal of Family Issues, 25, 990–994. Weston, K. (1991). Families we choose: Lesbians, gays, kinship. New York: Columbia University Press. Williams, W. (1998). Social acceptance of same-sex relationships in families: Models from other cultures. In C. J. Patterson & A. R. D’Augelli (Eds.), Lesbian, gay and bisexual identities in families: Psychological perspectives (pp. 53–71). New York: Oxford University Press.

10 FEMINIST VISIONS FOR RETHINKING WORK AND FAMILY CONNECTIONS M AUREEN P ERRY-J ENKINS A MY C LAXTON

T

he aim of this chapter is to explore the ways in which feminist theory has influenced the literature on work and family and, more important, to consider the ways in which feminist theory may shape future directions for the field. At the outset, it is important to point out that as much as I, as the first author, was excited about the invitation to write this chapter, I also became immediately aware of my anxiety in taking it on. I am embarrassed to admit that I still had to ask myself: Am I really a “good enough” feminist to write this critique? I had asked these same questions 15 years earlier when I was invited, as a new assistant professor, to write a chapter for a book titled Gender, Families and Close Relationships: Feminist Research Journeys (Sollie & Leslie, 1994). At that time, I was asked to write about what it meant to be a feminist researcher and how being a feminist affected my own research. I remember that chapter as being not only one of the hardest essays that I ever wrote but also one of the most freeing intellectual experiences of my career. I had never been asked to break away from my training as conventional researcher (i.e., objective, impartial) to reflect on how I was a part of my own research. Now, here I am 15 years later,

wondering if I have come any further in my ability to do just that. At the same time that I questioned my ability to do justice to this chapter, I remembered a quote from Katherine Allen (2001), “Feminism is a world view, but it is also a home base (p. 795).” Feminism has given me a personal and intellectual “home base,” a starting point from which to experience and understand the world. It has also given me a worldview that colors my thinking, inspires my imagination, and pushes me beyond my comfort zones. It was with this realization that it became clear that I had to write this chapter. An important difference this time around, however, is that I have enlisted the help of my student and colleague, Amy Claxton, in the process. As Amy highlights below, her reactions to writing this chapter were quite different from my own. When Maureen asked me to work with her on this chapter highlighting feminists’ contributions to the work and family literature, I was delighted. I am in the beginning of my career as an academic, and the honor of the invitation was not lost on me. As I sat buried to my elbows in feminist theory and research that I intended to summarize, it hit me: When exactly did I 121

122

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

become a feminist? Apparently, I have arrived here, or else surely I would not be permitted to work on a piece of feminist literature. I began asking people close to me whether they thought that I was a feminist. The overall answer was a solid, “Maybe.” What exactly is a feminist? Among individuals across all walks of life, including academics, it is evident that there is great diversity in what is considered “feminist.” But then, acknowledging the diversity that exists within feminism is very compatible with the powerful feminist agenda that informs the field of family research, an agenda that reminds us to remember the unique, lived experiences of individuals. There is no one way to define myself as a feminist, just as there is no one way to define a family, and it is this theme that informs my work and my life every day. Our collaboration on this chapter has highlighted for us how dialogue, self-reflection, and critical thinking, especially in the context of a supportive, collegial relationship, can truly lead to new understandings and knowledge. Our goal in this chapter is not only to share some of what we know about the work and family field but also to stretch our thinking about what we know using a feminist analysis. A feminist view of the work and family literature can be explicated using the five central themes of feminist scholarship proposed by Osmond and Thorne (1993). First, the social construction of gender is a central concept of feminist theory, and that construction most often occurs in the two most central contexts of individuals’ lives: their work and their family. Second, feminist theory pays great attention to the sociohistorical context within which gender is constructed. A historical perspective on women’s work and family roles highlights how sociohistorical events, such as industrialization, separated the worlds of work and family and reshaped the prescribed roles for women and men. In the 1960s and 1970s, the feminist movement increased educational opportunities for women, an event that converged with a decline in the U.S. economy, creating macrolevel social change that pushed women into the labor force (Perry-Jenkins, Repetti, & Crouter, 2000). These economic and social circumstances affected women’s behaviors and choices at the microlevels of their work and family lives. Third, feminist theory is committed to gender equality, social

justice, and social change. As such, inequity in the division of both paid and unpaid labor for women and men has been an important topic of study for feminist researchers in the work and family field. In addition, inequity in workplace conditions as a function of gender, race, and social class have begun to receive more attention in both research and as a focus in policy initiatives. Fourth, the centrality of women’s experiences is of great value in feminist theory; thus, it is not enough to study women but we must strive to capture women’s experiences from their own perspective. In the work-family literature, this means addressing how the opportunities, needs, and lived experiences of employed women will differ across the life course and differ for women of different races, ethnicities, and social classes. Moreover, the processes linking work and family life may function in different ways within different socioecological niches. The fifth and final theme highlighted by Osmond and Thorne (1993) questions unitary notions of “the family.” For example, most of the work and family literature has been built on the issues of two-parent, White families with young children. More recently, new and critical questions have begun to address how work-family challenges are experienced by different types of families such as low-income and single-parent families, and families of color. In the following chapter, we use these central themes of feminist scholarship to inform our analysis of the work and family literature. We address how the multiple locations of individuals’ lives—what has been called intersectionality— influence individual behaviors, development, and life course trajectories. In addition, we examine the importance of these social realities for understanding work and family relations. As Lloyd, Few, and Allen (2007) suggest, “In wrestling with how to define intersectionality, we need not think of pulling identities apart but rather figuring out how each subjectivity affects other subjectivities within the whole to influence behavior and life trajectories” (p. 448). Third, using our own research as an example, we link work and family research with feminist theory and notions of intersectionality to suggest new ways to revision both what we know about the work and family interrelationship and how we have come to know it. Finally, we acknowledge at the outset of this chapter that we are not only

10. Feminist Visions for Rethinking Work and Family Connections

observers and recorders of the work and family literature but also researchers deeply embedded in the field, an issue that is likely to affect not only what issues we focus on but the lens we use to describe what we see.

123

by questioning monolithic notions of “the family” and by addressing issues of inequity and social change; we will address all these ideas in more detail later in the chapter. The Work Socialization Theme

WORK AND FAMILY RESEARCH: AN OVERVIEW OF THE FIELD Four key themes have shaped the work and family literature: (a) the maternal employment theme, (b) the work socialization theme, (c) the occupational stress theme, and (d) the multiple roles theme. In the following section, we will highlight these themes with an eye toward feminist concerns that are implicit in some of this work. The Theme of Maternal Employment One dominant theme in the work-family literature has focused on “maternal employment” and the potentially problematic effects of mothers’ employment on their children and families (Perry-Jenkins et al., 2000). Thus, early on in the field, the challenges of work and family were deemed to be “women’s issues.” Research in this tradition focused primarily on White, middle-class families and relied on a “social address” approach whereby researchers examined mean differences in child outcomes as a function of living with an employed or nonemployed mother. Men’s paid work remained an unquestioned assumption; rather, it was women’s paid work and men’s unpaid work that was contested terrain. As the field has progressed, more attention has been paid to how much and when parents work, raising topics such as overwork (Crouter, Bumpus, Head, & McHale, 2001; Hochschild, 1997), underemployment (Lambert & Haley-Lock, 2004), shift work (Perry-Jenkins, Goldberg, Pierce, & Sayer, 2007; Presser, 1994, 2004), and seasonal work (Reid, 2002). A critical analysis of this line of research quickly reveals that the experiences of the working class, the working poor, and racial and ethnic minority families have received little attention in the work and family field. On a positive note, a new emphasis in the field has begun to emerge focusing on the experiences of different types of families, an approach that embraces some key themes of feminist theory

A second theme in the work and family literature comes from the work socialization perspective in sociology. The main premise of this approach holds that conditions of employment, such as occupational complexity and autonomy, shape the beliefs, values, and well-being of workers and, in turn, shapes their families’ well-being. During the 1990s, groundbreaking work by Parcel and Menaghan (1994b) highlighted direct and indirect linkages between work conditions and children’s developmental outcomes. For example, they found that for fathers, substantively complex work served as a protective factor against children’s behavior problems. In contrast, substantively complex work of mothers was protective against behavior problems but only for divorced or separated women (Parcel & Menaghan, 1993). This finding is important in that it highlights how work-family linkages differ as a function of different types of family structures (i.e., single-mother families), again challenging researchers to consider multiple definitions and constructions of “family.” The question of why work conditions would be more salient for divorced or separated mothers is not addressed in the study but it raises the important idea that when women are sole economic providers for themselves and their children, work may hold different implications for family life than for children in dual-earner families. In a related study, Cooksey, Menaghan, and Jekielek (1997) found that controlling for family structure, maternal employment characteristics such as more autonomy, working with people, and problem solving predicted decreases in child behavior problems. Findings also revealed that increased occupational complexity in mothers’ work predicted increased emotional support, cognitive stimulation, and safety for their children (Menaghan & Parcel, 1991; Parcel & Menaghan, 1994a, 1994b). It is important to note that when one statistically controls for key contextual variables such as family structure or other indicators of social class, there is an implicit assumption that work and family processes function in the same way across all

124

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

types of families, an assumption that feminist researchers must challenge. Moreover, these findings, in conjunction with the fact that work conditions such as autonomy and job complexity are more likely to be aspects of high-status jobs, raise concerns as we consider the type of work available to working-class and low-wage workers. Wilson (1999) contends that there has been steady erosion in the quality of jobs available to workers with less than a college degree. Unionized jobs that offer benefits, training, and security have been replaced with employment opportunities in the service and health care sectors which, at the lowest levels, offer few benefits, little security, and variable, nonday work schedules. At the same time that this erosion in the quality of jobs has been occurring, the Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity Reconciliation Act (PRWORA), enacted in 1996, placed a 5-year, lifetime limit on receipt of government benefits. This unique confluence of events over the past decade has resulted in young mothers with infants and children entering the workforce in record numbers. Thus, it is not surprising that Parcel and Menaghan (1997), foreshadowing the effects of the 1996 welfare reform legislation, warned that policies that push parents into low-wage jobs with low complexity and long hours may hold negative consequences for parents and the children of the working poor. From a feminist perspective, this particular time in our sociocultural history in the United States has placed low-income women, especially women of color, in positions of vast inequality. The passage of the PRWORA, in effect, created a natural social experiment that allowed social scientists to directly examine how transitions into work, particularly into low-wage occupations, affected parents—primarily mothers—and their children. A number of studies have emerged over the past decade examining the effects of welfare-to-work programs on mothers’ and children’s well-being (Chase-Lansdale et al., 2003; Dunifon, Kalil, & Bajracharya, 2005; Raver, 2003; Yoshikawa, Weisner, & Lowe, 2006). A key focus in this research has been on the structural conditions of jobs, such as number of hours, erratic schedules and nonday shifts, as they affect mothers and their children. For example, findings from the Three-Cities Study found that mothers’ transition to employment over a 2-year period had no effect on changes in children’s behavior problems and was associated with

improvements in adolescents’ mental health (Chase-Lansdale et al., 2003). Using the same data over a 5-year period, Dunifon, Kalil, and Danziger (2003) found that long hours, erratic work schedules, and non-day shifts were unrelated to children’s internalizing, externalizing, and levels of positive behavior; however, lengthy commutes were associated with higher internalizing problems and fewer positive behaviors. In a related study, the New Hope Project (Yoshikawa et al., 2006), a program in Milwaukee that offered supports to employed, low-wage workers, had a specific goal of examining the linkages between low-wage employment and children’s developmental outcomes. Findings revealed a great deal of heterogeneity in the job experiences of this working-poor sample. Some workers experienced “good job pathways” marked by wage growth and stable employment; others reported “poor job pathways,” which included either low work hours, coupled with low wages and no wage growth, or moving through an average of five jobs over the first 2 years of the study, a group referred to as the rapid cyclers. Analyses revealed that children whose mothers experienced job stability and wage growth, even in low-wage jobs, were rated by teachers as exhibiting higher levels of school engagement and lower levels of acting out. In contrast, parents employed in “revolving door, low-wage jobs” with little stability had children performing more poorly in school and exhibiting more behavior problems. Looking past the structural conditions of employment, Enchautegui-de-Jesus, Yoshikawa, and McLoyd (2006), using ethnographic data on a subset of the New Hope sample, examined the job quality of low-income mothers in relation to their children’s development. They found five salient elements for low-wage mothers’ jobs: (a) health insurance, (b) flexible, supportive, and fair supervisors, (c) reliable and sociable coworkers, (d) a variety of tasks, and (e) adequate compensation. They also found that parents’ perceptions of job quality were more predictive of children’s socioemotional outcomes than academic outcomes. The findings from the New Hope Project suggest that low-wage work is not always harmful or experienced as a burden by workers. These subjective data are important and unique, given that much of the research that does delve into

10. Feminist Visions for Rethinking Work and Family Connections

how specific conditions of employment, such as complexity, autonomy, or support, affect workers and their children, uses a common methodological approach of assigning characteristics of occupations, as defined by the Dictionary of Occupational Titles or General Social Survey, to parents’ experiences of their jobs (Parcel & Menaghan, 1994b; Raver, 2003). Thus, a problematic but key assumption of this methodology is that all individuals working in a particular occupation experience the same levels of complexity, autonomy, and control on their job. So, for example, this approach would code the majority of low-wage jobs as low in complexity, autonomy, and control—an assumption that we have come to question as we talk to women and men who work in these jobs. What we lose in this methodological approach is workers’ subjective experiences of their jobs: What is their lived reality, both the good and the bad? Understanding under what conditions lower-status jobs can have both positive and negative effects on adult development, and ultimately children’s wellbeing, is an important goal and one that requires understanding workers’ subjective experiences of their daily work. This is not to argue that institutional barriers and class inequalities are unimportant but rather to strongly argue that we avoid stereotypical assumptions about the nature of work and how it is experienced by workers of different social strata. Occupational Stress Theme There is now a substantial body of research, arising primarily from the fields of occupational health and clinical psychology, that suggests that chronic job stressors influence families when they cause feelings of overload or conflict between the roles of worker and family member. Although it is beyond the scope of this chapter to review the job stress literature in its entirety, an important outcome of this research suggests that vulnerability to role strain seems to vary according to structural characteristics of both job and family, such as the number and flexibility of work hours, family size, and ages of children (Guelzow, Bird, & Koball, 1991; Marshall & Barnett, 1991; O’Neil & Greenberger, 1994). Role commitment and involvement, occupational prestige, and spouse support are other factors that may influence one’s experience of role strain (Frone, Russell, & Cooper, 1992;

125

O’Neil & Greenberger, 1994). Other research suggests that a high levels of autonomy offer workers an opportunity to cope with occupational stressors such as work overload, with benefits for the individual’s health (Karasek & Theorell, 1990; Repetti, 1993; Schnall, Schwartz, Landsbergis, Warren, & Pickering, 1998). Although this research points to some key moderators linking job stress to worker well-being, there is a surprising lack of attention to how these processes may differ as a function of multiple social contexts such as gender, race, ethnicity, and social class—all factors likely to intersect with issues of job prestige, workload, benefits, and health. Again, a feminist lens challenges us to consider the experiences of women managing jobs, parenthood, and close relationships within the larger social mores guiding family roles in the United States in the 20th century; social norms that hold up the role of mother as all encompassing, all fulfilling, and all important (Phoenix, Woollett, & Lloyd, 1991). This social construction of all-consuming motherhood stands in direct contrast with women’s movement into the work world in record numbers over the past half century, yet another confluence of events creating unique stressors for women. Multiple Roles Theme A final theme in the work-family research has been the implications of managing the multiple roles of worker, spouse, and parent for individuals’ mental health and the quality of their family relationships. This final theme has probably been the site of most feminist research in the work and family field since much of this work addresses the juggling of multiple roles and the persistent inequity in the division of labor between women and men. White and Rogers (2000) point out that, in light of men’s declining wages, women’s increased employment has often allowed families to maintain their standard of living. These changes, however, call into question the gendered ideology of family life that so often ascribes breadwinning to men (Coltrane, 1996; Deutsch, 2000). Thus, despite the fact that women are employed in greater numbers than ever before and men engage in more family work (e.g., child care, household tasks), beliefs about who has the responsibility for these roles lags behind (PerryJenkins & Crouter, 1990; Potuchek, 1992).

126

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

Few studies have explicitly examined the construction of work and family roles in racial and ethnic minority families (Broman, 1991); however, these types of studies are vital to help us understand how social locations can shape the very nature of work-family connections. Survey data suggest that Blacks experience less work-family conflict than Whites (Grzywacz, Almeida, & McDonald, 2002), and Hispanic workers experience more work-family conflict than Whites (Roehling, Jarvis, & Swope, 2005). Although a good first step, these data do not distinguish the types of work these individuals are doing or the life course stage of the family, which can greatly influence the nature of the work and family conflict. Prominent topics in the scholarship on African American families are (a) the extendedness of family systems and kinship networks, (b) value systems that emphasize interdependence, cooperation, and achievement, (c) role flexibility, (d) biculturalism and acculturation, (e) heterogeneity in family form and process, and (f) challenges and burdens associated with economic deprivation (Demo & Cox, 2000). “Owing to both cultural factors (e.g., shared values) and historical experiences (notably slavery), role sharing, flexibility, reciprocity, and complementarity are widely observed in African American families” (p. 882); all these characteristics could positively influence how African American parents cope with workfamily challenges. Finally, multigenerational households are a characteristic of many African American households, with one in five African American children growing up in extended family arrangements (Glick, 1997). Extended family settings can have both costs and benefits since increased support from grandparents can be accompanied by increased family strain (Chase-Lansdale, Brooks-Gunn, & Zamsky, 1994). In terms of ethnic diversity, the fastest growing segment of the workforce is represented by Latino workers (Toossi, 2002). Few studies have examined work-family issues within the Latino population; however, demographic studies indicate that Latino parents and their children face racism and discrimination in the U.S. economy. “Latino children experience higher rates of poverty than their non-Latino White counterparts, regardless of whether they live with two parents or one, or whether their parents are employed or not” (Lichter & Landale, 1995, p. 353). Evidence indicates that Hispanic workers are overrepresented in marginalized segments of the workforce,

concentrated in manufacturing, construction, and service occupations (Catanzarite, 2002). Research on family roles suggests that Hispanic families are a heterogeneous group, despite the image that traditional stereotyped gender roles are upheld in these families. Hurtado (1996) suggests that there is frequently a mismatch between what is said and what is done in Hispanic immigrant families; meaning traditional values are espoused but more flexible gender roles are enacted. Latin American scholars have suggested that due to maintenance of traditional gender role ideology in countries of origin, where men are primary breadwinners and women are responsible for children and family, immigrant Latina women have few clear role models for negotiating work and family roles (Hondagneu-Sotelo, 1992; Parrado & Zenteno, 2001). The lack of models may contribute to work-family stress. In one of the few studies on work and family issues for Latino immigrants, Grzywacz et al. (2007) found that Latinos employed in the poultry processing industry reported infrequent work and family conflict. Grzywacz et al. suggest that perhaps workers had more sanguine views of their work because they (and their families) need the job and poultry processing provided greater stability and financial security than more seasonal alternatives such as farm work and construction (for men) or hospitality (for women). (p. 1127)

These new studies are important because they mark some of the first attempts in the work-family literature to understand how aspects of social location, namely race and ethnicity, can shape workfamily experiences. By focusing on only one social location at a time, however, questions arise as to how other contexts, such as gender, age, and social class, intersect with race and ethnicity. In the next section, we highlight the idea of intersectionality, an approach that challenges scholars to pay more attention to the multiple social locations that define individuals’ lives.

FEMINIST THEORY AND THE CONCEPT OF INTERSECTIONALITY: TOOLS TO SHARPEN OUR VISION Over the past decade, sociologists, psychologists, and philosophers have developed a new theory

10. Feminist Visions for Rethinking Work and Family Connections

that is quickly advancing in feminist circles: intersectionality. Intersectionality places emphasis on individuals’ multiple, intersecting social identities, as well as how social structures influence the construction of these social identities (Stewart & McDermott, 2004). The social locations of race, ethnicity, gender, and sexual orientation have been put forth as the “most important” social divisions in American society, since they are often linked to social status and differential access to power. In the United States, these particular social locations dictate the distribution of resources and advantages of society in ways that produce distinctive patterns for family life (Baca Zinn & Eitzen, 1990). The term intersectionality emerged relatively recently from critical race theorists such as Kimberle Crenshaw, who used the term in the late 1980s while discussing issues of Black women’s employment in the United States (Yuval-Davis, 2006). Patricia Hill Collins is also well known for articulating the notion of intersectionality while studying the organization of power in society and the crisscrossing oppressions experienced by Black women (Collins, 2000). The acknowledgement of multiple social roles and multiple oppressions is not new; in fact, the concept of intersectionality emerged as women of color began to have a voice in the mid-1800s. For example, one of the most prominent Black feminists of the 19th century, Sojourner Truth, was an early proponent of intersectionality: That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud puddles, or gives me any best place! And ain’t I a woman? (Painter, 1997, p. 167)

Truth’s words point to the fact that women of her time were not a homogenous group, but individuals who experienced the world differently as a function of their social standing, race, and ethnicity; more than 100 years later, this is still the case. In further defining intersectionality, Stewart and McDermott (2004) put forth three basic tenets: (a) No social group is homogenous; (b) people must be located in terms of social structures that capture the power relations implied by those structures; and (c) there are unique, nonadditive effects of identifying with

127

more than one social group. In addressing how the study of intersectionality is pertinent to work-family research, we turn first to the third tenet that focuses on the “nonadditive effects of identifying with more than one social group.” Researchers must be cautious in their zeal to understand one social location, such as social class, to not neglect other key locations such as gender, age, race, and ethnicity as they intersect with class. For example, economic data describe how women are discriminated against at work, earning less money when performing similar jobs to men. Yet presenting data on women as a group vastly oversimplifies the levels of inequality. Hurtado (1996) points out how women of color often become glossed over when researchers attempt to describe “women” as a group. When researchers report on “average” education levels, job prestige scores, or income levels for all women, we quickly lose sight of the fact that the group average for women is much higher than the group average for women of color. Moreover, the average for young women with children is significantly lower than that of older women. As we consider the intersection of multiple social locations, a much more complex picture emerges, a sure indication in our minds that we are probably on the right track. Proponents of intersectionality argue that some women of color suffer from “triple oppressions.” Yuval-Davis (2006) points to the oppression suffered by Black women, who must deal with the oppression associated with being Black, being women, and being disproportionately represented in lower classes. She agrees that there is no way to disentangle the oppression suffered “as Black,” “as a woman,” or “as a working-class person,” as if each additional oppression could be added to the next. Too often, the terms Black, working-class and poor are grouped together in the work and family literature. Research on women of color tends to focus on “at risk” populations, perpetuating the stigma of “poor, Black mothers.” It is important to recognize that while women of color are disproportionately represented in poverty, the majority of women of color are not poor. The U.S. Census estimates that 25.3% of Blacks, 21.5% of Hispanics, and 10.5% of Whites were living in poverty in 2006 (Webster & Bishaw, 2007). Middle-class and wealthy women of color are the majority, and we must hear their stories as well. In addressing Stewart and McDermott’s (2004) first tenet that no group is homogeneous,

128

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

examples from Hill (2004) exemplify this point. Hill posits that as Blacks gained civil liberties during the Civil Rights Movement in the United States, class, race, and gender divisions among African Americans were exacerbated. Moreover, there is growing diversity among those considered “Black.” For example, many immigrant groups from Africa do not share the same history or concerns as U.S.-born Black Americans. African immigrants are often more concerned with immigration policy than civil rights. These immigrants do not share the collective memory of slavery, which sometimes puts them at odds with native Black Americans. There are also growing numbers of interracial people, who might either choose one culture to embrace, have a shifting racial identity (based on which culture is more salient at the time), or have a fluid racial identity. A gap has also arisen between the old and new generation of Black Americans, with the new generation finding ways to glorify Black culture in ways that are not always acceptable to the old guard. Finally, as in other racial groups, class polarization has increased in the past several decades, which creates different social realities according to social class levels (Hill). At the same time, for Black women, sexism has a different history, a history that can differentially affect many aspects of the work/family dynamic. For example, many Black women did not experience the “cult of domesticity” in the Industrial Revolution (1800s) in the same way that their White counterparts did. Throughout this time, they were not idealized as domestic goddesses or stripped from the economic sphere; in fact, most Black women continued to work to support their families— both during slavery and afterward. The need to survive kept Black women in the labor market, yet they were also denied many freedoms and life chances. Although theoretically appealing, intersectionality is by no means a panacea. In fact, at times, intersectionality can go quite wrong. Attempts to use intersectionality can result in an array of demographic categories (e.g., Hispanic/poor/female; wealthy/White/male) that may ultimately mask the diverse experiences of the people within each category (Hill, 2004). We also run the risk of ignoring experiences common among women across groups and in so doing undermine the viability of interracial

coalitions. Stewart and McDermott (2004) point out that keeping every social location in mind is a daunting, and sometimes impractical, task. At its best, however, intersectionality leads us to think about social location at many stages of the research process: designing a study, recruiting a sample, interviewing participants, analyzing data, and especially interpreting results. Also, in this review of intersectionality, the experiences of women of color have been highlighted, an emphasis that is useful so that we can learn from their experiences. Yet it is vital to acknowledge that the intent is to place women of color’s experiences “at the center of analysis without privileging those experiences” (Collins, 2000, p. 228). The point of intersectionality is to learn a new and nuanced way of thinking. It is not intended to essentialize any one group’s experiences above another. In the following section, we will talk about the research challenges that we have faced in remembering that people exist in multiple social locations. Feminist Challenges to Work and Family Research In this final section, we explore how notions of intersectionality (Hill, 2004), coupled with the themes of feminist thought laid out by Osmond and Thorne (1993), challenge us to critically examine the work and family literature. In our experience, we have often found it easier to conduct research by comfortably relying on our more “traditional” research training, where the main rules of engagement include objectivity, significance testing, prediction, and analysis. Yet, at the same time, we know that some of the most important lessons and the greatest knowledge gained along the way come from self-reflection, critical thinking, subjectivity, and insight—all lessons of feminism. We gain insight when listening to the stories of hardship and resilience from the families who share their lives with us; we learn to think critically from our peers and our students who bring fresh eyes and honesty to our work; and finally, we learn when we have the courage to be “straight-up and truthful” with ourselves. In the following section, we want to share with you some of the hard lessons we have learned, through both the mistakes we made along the way and the insights we have gained from our

10. Feminist Visions for Rethinking Work and Family Connections

research over the past 10 years with working parents and their children. First, it will be useful to provide a bit of background on our research project. The primary aim of our original study, which began in 1998, was to examine how both the transition to parenthood and the return of mothers to paid employment within 6 months of their child’s birth affected the psychological well-being and marital relationships of working-class women and men. At that time, few studies had explored how parents’ return to employment soon after a child’s birth affected parents’ mental heath and relationship quality, and no research had studied this process for low-wage families. Specifically, the objectives of this research were: (a) to examine how women’s and men’s well-being and marital relationships change as they become new parents and, soon thereafter, return to a dual-earner lifestyle; (b) to identify factors that influence new mothers’ and fathers’ psychological well-being across these multiple transitions; factors such as social support, gender ideology, access to quality child care, expectations about parenthood, quality of the marital relationship, and characteristics of the child; (c) to examine how women’s and men’s work and family roles and responsibilities change across the transition to parenthood and again when new mothers return to the workforce; and (d) to determine the effects of family-friendly workplace policies on mothers’ and fathers’ psychological wellbeing and marital quality as they cope with multiple transitions. The study involved five occasions of measurement. The first interview occurred during the third trimester of pregnancy. At that time, data on psychological well-being, the marital relationship, gender-role attitudes, the division of labor, parental work situations, social support, workplace policies, and future work plans were gathered from both wives and husbands. The second interview took place after the baby was born but prior to the mother’s return to work; the third interview took place 1 month after mothers had returned to full-time employment; the fourth interview was a mail survey sent to families when the baby was 6 months; and the fifth interview was a 1-year follow-up conducted to determine the long-term effects of both positive and negative transitions on women’s psychological health and family relationships.

129

Despite the fact that we recruited 153 couples for the study, recruitment of racially and ethnically diverse families was a recurring problem. In an effort to increase the diversity of our sample, we conducted an all-out effort in the community to increase our enrollment. We partnered with the Women, Infants, and Children Program (WIC) and with two prenatal clinics in nearby cities. We spoke with program directors and community leaders with the hopes of gaining more support for our recruitment efforts. As a result of these discussions, it soon became apparent that there was a flaw in the original study design that served to eliminate many racial and ethnic minority families. Specifically, the recruitment criteria called for: (a) married couples or couples living together for at least a year, (b) both spouses working full-time, (c) both spouses becoming first-time parents, and (d) both spouses planning on returning to work full-time within 6 months of the baby’s birth. The study was designed around a life course pattern that included finishing school, getting a job, getting married, and having children, in that order. Unfortunately, we failed to recognize the ethnocentric bias in our assumptions (i.e., White, middle class). We had expected this life course trajectory to apply to all families regardless of race and ethnicity, despite demographic trends indicating significant racial and ethnic differences in unwed motherhood. Specifically, 22% of births to White women, 42% of births to Hispanic women, and 69% of births to African American women occur outside marriage (Casper & Bianchi, 2002). Moreover, poorly educated women are overrepresented in the group of never-married mothers. On recognizing this critical flaw in the design, I panicked. I spoke with many colleagues about how to best remedy the problem. We could recruit more minority families where parents were attending school rather than working, or we could include families with more than one child and/or add a sample of single parents. However, changing recruitment criteria would create multiple differences across racial and ethnic groups that would inflate group differences. Moreover, sample changes would move us away from the initial goals of the study that were to understand the transition to parenthood in the context of employment conditions. My final decision was to keep the recruitment criteria the same for the current study and to go back to the

130

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

drawing board and design a new study that took into account the multiple social locations I had overlooked in the first study design. My goal was to design a study that took into account life course differences across racial and ethnic groups. Coming to the realization that my biases and narrow focus had excluded the experiences of many families was an embarrassing and humbling experience. I believe that the profound insight I gained from this experience could only have come with the intense emotions I also experienced at the same time. Once I allowed myself to be a part of the process and to accept and understand how my biases and values had limited my vision of the world, it became clear to me whom I had left out in the process and why. Only when I accepted my shortsightedness could I get help to correct it. The literature on intersectionality helped shape our understanding of where our research fell short. In the original grant proposal, the intense focus on issues of social class, the working class specifically, led me to inadvertently lose sight of all the other contexts that intersect with class and, in so doing, much of the story was lost. In our new project, we have incorporated the stories of more than 200 low-wage African American, Latina, and European American single mothers managing jobs and new babies, allowing us to expand the intersections of class and race but knowingly losing the stories of more advantaged women of color and White women. We began this research with a presumption that working-class and low-wage workers are an oppressed group. They tend to work in low-paying jobs, jobs with little flexibility or autonomy, few workplace supports, and little stability. It is wise, however, to consider one of Stewart and McDermott’s (2004) tenets of intersectionality at this point, namely, that no social group is homogeneous. Although our data found partial support for some of the stereotypically negative views of low-wage jobs, we also learned that not all low-wage jobs are experienced negatively. In fact, in our interviews with more than 600 working parents, there is great variability in their reports of job satisfaction, complexity, autonomy, supervisor support, and coworker support. While some of these workers do report that their jobs are boring, demeaning, and stressful, others find their jobs stimulating, supportive, and energizing. This does not mean

that the structural inequalities in our workplaces do not exist or that institutional racism and classism are battles we have won. Women— racial and ethnic minority women in particular— continue to face constrained opportunities in the labor market, and this must remain a key topic for feminists to address. At the same time, however, the subjective, day-to-day experiences of women and men in low-wage jobs should be understood in all their complexity, and we must refrain from adopting a monolithic view of lowwage work as mind numbing and demoralizing. Another set of lessons emerged with regard to measurement issues. Over the years, I have taught many students in their research methods classes about the problem of taking measures designed for one cultural group and transporting them to another group, highlighting all the problems of validity and reliability with this approach. Interestingly, knowing this did not stop me from using this exact practice in my own study. To explain, an aim in our project was to understand how workplace policies affected parents’ ability to manage the demands of new parenthood. We used a measure designed to assess all types of workplace supports such as a flexible work schedule, on-site child care, paid parental leave, and paid personal/ sick time. It became quite clear as we started conducting in-home interviews with parents and asking them about the availability of these policies that these questions were almost laughable. It was embarrassing to ask parents who worked at the local Walmart or McDonald’s what kind of benefits they had when, in actuality, they had none. In fact, we soon learned that a far more pressing problem for our parents was not how to get workplace flexibility but rather how to secure “workplace security,” meaning full-time work with health care benefits. We also learned that “personal time” benefits, in place of real sick leave policies, actually limited supports for working parents. Since personal time is a benefit you must plan for and request ahead of time, calling up in the morning and asking for a day off to care for a sick child is simply not possible with personal time benefits. We learned early on that we were often just asking the wrong questions. Similarly, we soon found out that we were not always measuring what we thought we were measuring. Case in point was our measure of racism at work. Specifically, we wanted to assess

10. Feminist Visions for Rethinking Work and Family Connections

how race and class might interact at work—how does racism affect low-wage work? We added a scale and several questions to our study to assess whether our participants experienced racism in their daily lives and jobs. Once again, we neglected to fully consider the complexity of the phenomena we were studying, especially when it came to racism. Time and time again, participants reported experiencing no racism on the job. This was exemplified in a conversation with a new Black father, Darren, who worked as a forklift operator. During the interview, he steadfastly maintained that he never experienced racism at work. After the interview, we had time to chat and he began to share some of his work experiences, describing how he had been blamed for low productivity at work, the battles with his boss, and his struggles with unemployment. Listening, it seemed obvious that Darren had been a victim of blatant institutional racism, and yet these stories did not emerge when we asked about racism directly. Another flaw in our measure came to light during several other interviews. The Perceived Racism Scale (McNeilly et al., 1996) was used to measure racism at work. However, the scale focuses on racism perpetrated by Whites. In fact, classically, some scholars argue that true racism in the United States is only perpetrated by White people, who enjoy society’s power and privilege. Nevertheless, this view failed us during our interviews because it neglected to account for the diversity of experiences that we heard about from our participants. For example, during one interview a mother emphatically told us, “Yes, I am a victim of racism at work; my boss is Brazilian. Brazilians don’t like Puerto Ricans!” Not only were we much less familiar with this dynamic, but we realized that our measure was not equipped to record her experiences. Thus far, most researchers have remained focused on race, ethnicity, gender, class, and sexual orientation as the five most studied social locations. Based on our research, we think that family structure should be included as a critical social location. When researchers look at “women,” they do not necessarily account for whether the participants are single, cohabiting, or married and even fewer consider other family structures such as living in a same-sex partnership, with grandparents, siblings, or other kin. Our data suggest that family structure is one of

131

the most influential divisions in understanding work-family interconnections (Claxton & Perry-Jenkins, 2007). For example, in a recent study, we examined connections between various indices of social class (measured by occupational prestige, income, and educational attainment) and work variables, such as organizational support and job satisfaction. Using the full sample, we found prestige, income, and education to all be correlated with job satisfaction, no SES indicators were related to perceptions of organizational support (e.g., how much one feels like she is a part of a family at work). When we conducted analyses separately for single mothers and two-parent mother and fathers, a different story emerged. Specifically, for single mothers, higher job prestige and income were related to higher perceived organizational support, although this relationship was not found for fathers, and only income was modestly correlated for two-parent mothers. This finding is especially important because organizational support might be needed more among single moms, who do not necessarily have a partner to rely on for support and security. Related to this topic is the thorny issue of defining what we mean by the term single mother. Although we have a plethora of studies on single mothers, there is tremendous variability in how this group is conceptualized. As soon as we began collecting data, we were faced with this challenge. For example, Alicia is a 20-year-old unwed mother who lives with her parents. She is financially supported by them, and her own mother does half of the child care. Sylvia is 25 years old and lives alone with her two children. She struggles to pay the bills and is periodically in court to try to receive child support from the father of her children. In most studies, both of these women would be categorized as “single moms.” Neither Alicia nor Sylvia live with their partners, but what else do they have in common? In another example, Alexi’s boyfriend moved into her apartment when he found out she was pregnant. Donna’s boyfriend still lives with his parents but sleeps at her apartment several nights per week. Alexi is cohabiting and Donna is single, but are their experiences really that different? Once again, our social categories belie the great variability that exists at the intersection of social locations.

132

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

CONCLUSIONS We all sit at the intersection of multiple social locations; some are visible to all, some are hidden, some are more salient than others at different times and different places in our lives. In this chapter, we have used multiple examples to highlight how the work and family challenges and concerns of workers in different social locations are quite unique. For example, issues of workplace flexibility, the “mommy track” and “opting out” have been some of the key challenges facing professional working women. In contrast, for low-wage women, the key demands are securing stable, fulltime work, health care, predictable schedules, and adequate pay. The very nature of the problems is different at different social locations. Finally, we have not spent any time talking about the personal-as-political in our discussion, although the notion of praxis is fundamental to a feminist perspective. To that end, we have focused some of our energy and time on getting involved in public policy issues that address issues of social justice and equity for low-wage workers. We have used our findings to inform debates in Massachusetts regarding paid family leave and sick time benefits. We have participated in conferences at the state level where problems of the future workforce were addressed, and we spoke loudly about the lack of supports for low-wage workers. As two White women in academia, we recognize that we bring our own “social locations” to any discussion, and we have worked hard to challenge ourselves and our thinking in our work and in this chapter. Our aim is to continually change the lens and the focus in our research, our teaching, and in our lives, for if we narrow our perspective for too long on any one social location, we realize that we will lose sight of the broader landscape. Feminist theory and intersectionality continue to push us to never get too comfortable with what we know or how we know it.

REFERENCES Allen, K. R. (2001). Feminist visions for transforming families. Journal of Family Issues, 22(6), 791–809. Baca Zinn, M., & Eitzen, D. S. (1990). Diversity in families (2nd ed.). New York: Harper & Row. Broman, C. L. (1991). Gender, work-family roles, and psychological well-being of Blacks. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 53, 509–520.

Casper, L. M., & Bianchi, S. M. (2002). Continuity and change in the family. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Catanzarite, L. (2002). Dynamics of segregation and earnings in blue-collar occupations. Work and Occupations, 29, 300–345. Chase-Lansdale, P. L., Brooks-Gunn, J., & Zamsky, E. (1994). Young African American multigenerational families in poverty: Quality of mothers and grandmothering. Child Development, 65, 373–393. Chase-Lansdale, P. L., Moffitt, R. A., Lohman, B. J., Cherlin, A. J., Coley, R. L., Pittman, L. D., et al. (2003). Mothers’ transition from welfare to work and the well-being of preschoolers and adolescents. Science, 299, 1548–1552. Claxton, A., & Perry-Jenkins, M. (2007, November). Why social class matters: Its meaning and measurement. In M. Perry-Jenkins (Chair), The hidden vulnerabilities and strengths of workingclass families. Symposium conducted at the meeting of the National Council on Family Relations, Pittsburgh, PA. Collins, P. H. (2000). Black feminist thought: Knowledge, consciousness, and the politics of empowerment (2nd ed.). New York: Routledge. Coltrane, S. (1996). Family man: Fatherhood, housework, and gender equity. New York: Oxford University Press. Cooksey, E. C., Menaghan, E. G., & Jekielek, S. M. (1997). Life course effects of work and family circumstances on children. Social Forces, 76, 637–667. Crouter, A. C., Bumpus, M. F., Head, M. R., & McHale, S. M. (2001). Implications of overwork and overload for the quality of men’s family relationships. Journal of Marriage and Family, 63(2), 404–416. Demo, D. H., & Cox, M. J. (2000). Families with young children: A review of research in the 1990s. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 876–895. Deutsch, F. (2000). Halving it all: How couples create equally-shared parenthood. Boston: Harvard University Press. Dunifon, R., Kalil, A., & Bajracharya, A. (2005). Maternal working conditions and child well-being in welfare-leaving families. Developmental Psychology, 41(6), 851–859. Dunifon, R., Kalil, A., & Danziger, S. K. (2003). Maternal work behavior under welfare reform: How doe the transition from welfare to work affect child development? Children and Youth Services Review, 25, 55–82. Enchautegui-de-Jesus, N., Yoshikawa, H., & McLoyd, V. C. (2006). Job quality among low-income mothers: Experiences and associations with children’s development. In H. Yoshikawa, T. S. Weisner, & E. D. Lowe (Eds.), Making it work: Low-wage employment, family life and child development (pp. 75–96). New York: Russell Sage. Frone, M. R., Russell, M., & Cooper, M. L. (1992). Antecedents and outcomes of work-family conflict: Testing a model of the work-family interface. Journal of Applied Psychology, 77, 65–78. Glick, P. C. (1997). Demographic pictures of African American families. In H. McAdoo (Ed.), Black families (pp. 118–138). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Grzywacz, J. G., Almeida, D. M., & McDonald, D. A. (2002). Workfamily spillover and daily reports of work and family stress in the adult labor force. Family Relations, 51, 28–36. Grzywacz, J. G., Arcury, T. A., Marin, A., Carrillo, L., Burke, B., Coates, M. L., et al. (2007). Work-family conflict: Experiences and health implications among immigrant Latinos. Journal of Applied Psychology, 92(4), 1119–1130. Guelzow, M. G., Bird, G. W., & Koball, E. H. (1991). An exploratory path analysis of the stress process for dual-career men and women. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 53, 151–164. Hill, S. A. (2004). Black intimacies: A gender perspective on families and relationships. New York: AltaMira Press. Hochschild, A. R. (1997). The time bind: When work becomes home and home becomes work. New York: Henry Holt. Hondagneu-Sotelo, P. (1992). Overcoming patriarchal constraints: The reconstruction of gender relations among Mexican immigrant women and men. Gender & Society, 6, 393–415.

10. Feminist Visions for Rethinking Work and Family Connections Hurtado, A. (1996). The color of privilege: Three blasphemies on race and feminism. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press. Karasek, R., & Theorell, T. (1990). Healthy work: Stress, productivity and the reconstruction of working life. New York: Basic Books. Lambert, S. J., & Haley-Lock, A. (2004). The organizational stratification of opportunities for work-life balance: Addressing issues of equality and social justice in the workplace. Community, Work and Family, 7(2), 179–195. Lichter, D. T., & Landale, N. S. (1995). Parental work, family structure, and poverty among Latino children. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 57, 346–354. Lloyd, S. A., Few, A. L., & Allen, K. R. (2007). Feminist theory, methods and praxis in family studies. Journal of Family Issues, 28(4), 447–451. Marshall, N. L., & Barnett, R. C. (1991). Race, class, and multiple role strains and gains among women employed in the service sector. Women & Health, 17(4), 1–16. McNeilly, M. D., Anderson, N. B., Robinson, E. L., McManus, C. H., Armstead, C. A., Clark, R., et al. (1996). Convergent, discriminant, and concurrent validity of the perceived racism scale: A multidimensional assessment of the experience of White racism among African Americans. In R. L. Jones (Ed.), Handbook of tests and measurements for Black populations (pp. 359–374). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Menaghan, E. G., & Parcel, T. L. (1991). Determining children’s home environments: The impact of maternal characteristics and current occupational and family conditions. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 53, 417–431. O’Neil, R., & Greenberger, E. (1994). Patterns of commitment to work and parenting: Implications for role strain. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 56, 101–118. Osmond, M. W., & Thorne, B. (1993). Feminist theories: The social construction of gender in families and society. In P. G. Boss, W. J. Doherty, R. LaRossa, W. R. Schumm, & S. K. Steinmetz (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theories and methods: A contextual approach (pp. 591–625). New York: Plenum Press. Painter, N. I. (1997). Sojourner truth: A life, a symbol. New York: W. W. Norton. Parcel, T. L., & Menaghan, E. G. (1993). Family social capital and children’s behavior problems. Social Psychology Quarterly, 56, 120–135. Parcel, T. L., & Menaghan, E. G. (1994a). Early parental work, family social capital, and early childhood outcomes. American Journal of Sociology, 99, 972–1009. Parcel, T. L., & Menaghan, E. G. (1994b). Parents’ jobs and children’s lives. New York: Aldine de Gruyter. Parcel, T. L., & Menaghan, E. G. (1997, Spring). Effects of low wage employment on family well-being. The Future of Children: Welfare to Work, 7, 116–121. Parrado, E. A., & Zenteno, R. M. (2001). Economic restructuring, financial crises, and women’s work in Mexico. Social Problems, 48, 456–477.

133

Perry-Jenkins, M., & Crouter, A. C. (1990). Men’s provider-role attitudes: Implications for household work and marital satisfaction. Journal of Family Issues, 11(2), 136–156. Perry-Jenkins, M., Goldberg, A., Pierce, C., & Sayer, A. (2007). Shift work, role overload and the transition to parenthood. Journal of Marriage and Family, 69, 123–138. Perry-Jenkins, M., Repetti, R., & Crouter, A. C. (2000). Work and family: A decade review. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62(4), 981–998. Phoenix, A., Woollett, A., & Lloyd, E. (1991). Motherhood: Meanings, practices and ideologies. Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Potuchek, J. L, (1992). Employed wives’ orientations to breadwinning: A gender theory analysis. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 54(3), 548–558. Presser, H. B. (1994). Employment schedules among dual-earner spouses and the division of household labor by gender. American Sociological Review, 59, 348–364. Presser, H. B. (2004). Employment in a 24/7 economy: Challenges for the family. New York: Russell Sage. Raver, C. C. (2003). Does work pay psychologically as well as economically? The role of employment in predicting depressive symptoms and parenting among low-income families. Child Development, 74(6), 1720–1736. Reid, L. L. (2002). Occupational segregation, human capital, and motherhood: Black women’s higher exit rates from full-time employment. Gender & Society, 16(5), 728–747. Repetti, R. L. (1993). Short-term effects of occupational stressors on daily mood and health complaints. Health Psychology, 12, 126–131. Roehling, P. V., Jarvis, L. H., & Swope, H. E. (2005). Variations in negative work-family spillover among White, Black, and Hispanic American men and women: Does ethnicity matter? Journal of Family Issues, 26, 840–865. Schnall, P. L., Schwartz, J. E., Landsbergis, P. A., Warren, K., & Pickering, T. G. (1998). A longitudinal study of job strain and ambulatory blood pressure. Results from a three-year followup. Psychosomatic Medicine, 60, 697–706. Sollie, D. L., & Leslie, L. A. (1994). Gender, families and close relationship: Feminist research journeys. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Stewart, A. J., & McDermott, C. (2004). Gender in psychology. Annual Review of Psychology, 55, 519–544. Toossi, M. (2002). A century of change: The U.S. labor force, 1950–2050. Monthly Labor Review, 125(5), 15–28. Webster, B. H., Jr., & Bishaw, A. (2007). Income, earnings and poverty data from the 2006 American Community Survey (ACS-08). Washington, DC: U.S. Census Bureau. White, L., & Rogers, S. (2000). Economic circumstances and family outcomes: A review of the 1990s. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 1035–1051. Wilson, W. J. (1999). When work disappears: The world of the new urban poor. New York: Alfred A. Knopf. Yoshikawa, H., Weisner, T. S., & Lowe, E. D. (2006). Making it work: Low-wage employment, family life and child development. New York: Russell Sage. Yuval-Davis, N. (2006). Intersectionality and feminist politics. European Journal of Women’s Studies, 13, 193–209.

11 (RE)VISIONING FAMILY TIES TO COMMUNITIES AND CONTEXTS LYNET U TTAL

O

ne of the fundamental, yet underacknowledged, contributions of feminist thought to family studies is its attention to how families are intertwined with communities and contexts. From its starting point of examining how women experience family life, feminist studies and allied perspectives have generated an enormous body of research that locates family life in the contexts of local institutions and broader social, economic, and political systems, including history and ideologies. These studies have broadened the notion of what counts as context and have revealed the bidirectional relationship between what happens within families and what happens in the communities around them. Feminist family studies has articulated a different model for connecting microlevel experiences and macrolevel contexts to better account for and articulate agency and social change. Indeed, such research has laid the groundwork for the development of complex ideas about the intersection of families and contexts and for a model that I have come to visualize as “interfluentiality.” Three areas of scholarship—feminist, multiracial feminist, and racial-ethnic family studies— have been particularly influential in understanding family ties to communities; they have pointed at the ways family life is a relationship among 134

individuals, families, and different communities and contexts. Two of these areas have been explicitly feminist: feminist studies and multiracial feminist studies (Baca Zinn & Dill, 1996), whereas racial-ethnic family studies has not always labeled itself feminist even though it has produced numerous studies that are centered on the lives of women of color. I personally think of these studies as feminist because many of them are about and for women and they are informative about women’s perspectives in family life; but, rather than impose the feminist framework too much on studies that did not embrace that term, I simply refer to these studies as a group as “feminist and racial-ethnic family studies” throughout this essay. A continuing shortcoming of mainstream contemporary family studies as a field is its lack of being deeply influenced by either feminist or racial-ethnic family studies (Baca Zinn, 2000; Wills & Risman, 2006). Perhaps the failure to fully reflect this scholarship as contributing to mainstream family studies is due to the scholarship frequently being produced within the academic areas of women’s studies or ethnic studies and to the heavy reliance on nonstatistical methodologies. But that is only a generous way to excuse mainstream family studies, which claims to be interdisciplinary, from not having

11. (Re)Visioning Family Ties to Communities and Contexts

taken numerous studies of family life from other disciplines more seriously. Where feminist contributions have been seriously incorporated, family studies has been theoretically strengthened and empirically broadened by the inclusion of new frameworks and concepts (see Allen, Lloyd, & Few, this volume). A more critical explanation for this shortcoming is the increasing invisibility of family studies in the field of human development and family studies where family studies is increasingly marginalized and human development studies fail to take seriously the arguments for why race and gender systems matter as contexts for human development (García Coll et al., 1996; Thorne, 1982). In this chapter, I point out three ways in which feminist family studies and racial-ethnic family studies have informed scholarship on family ties to communities and contexts. First, I review how feminist and racial-ethnic family studies made the link between families and communities by broadening the boundaries of families from the isolated nuclear family to include their community ties. They also showed how family functions are carried out by extended family and fictive kin and debunked the notion of two separate spheres of family and society. Second, I point out how these studies have broadened the conceptualization of context by adding “history” and “ideology” to the list of what constitutes context. Feminist and racial-ethnic family scholarship also critiqued the limited notion of context as static and moved beyond the simple labeling of demographic characteristics of a community to exploring how communities are complex processes that are better not reduced to a simple variable address. Finally, I point out how studies of women’s lives revealed how family life is interfluential with community life and social institutions. While communities are contexts that strongly influence women’s lives, women’s actions for their families also influence the nature of communities. Studies of women’s caregiving and activism, especially in multiracial feminist and racial-ethnic family scholarship, revealed how women’s concerns for their children motivated their efforts to resist oppression and to improve their communities. The reader will notice the absence of a clear-cut definition of community. This is a purposeful omission: In this chapter, the meaning of community ranges from people who live in a particular

135

geographic community to self-identification of being part of a value or identity community to the contexts that surround family life to the institutions that are acted on by groups of women who are trying to improve their communities and, finally, to community as the interaction of historical, ideological, and stratification contexts. It would be very arrogant to make the claim that these contributions—connecting families to communities, broadening the meaning and analytic inclusion of context, using methods that allow for agency and first-person perspectives, and analyzing the interfluential relationship between families and communities—are uniquely the contributions of feminist and racial-ethnic family studies scholars. Certainly, readers will see reflections of similar ideas from their own subareas of family studies. And to be clear, that kind of uniqueness is not being claimed here. (Re)visioning means that the ideas were there but that they were brought back into focus, amplified, and/or reframed. So credit can be given to feminist, multiracial feminist, and racial-ethnic family studies for being “the highlighter on the page” that focuses our attention on these specific ideas being proposed for family studies. By looking at family functions from the perspective of women’s lives and at the forms and adaptive processes that families developed from the perspective of racial-ethnic history, we are alerted to new ways of thinking about families in family studies.

THE CONTRIBUTIONS OF FEMINIST THINKING TO (RE)VISIONING FAMILY TIES TO COMMUNITY Family studies is an interdisciplinary field that comes out of both basic and applied scholarship from several different disciplines, including human development and family studies (home economics), sociology, psychology, anthropology, history, and social work. These fields have studied individual family members and their roles, family relationships, family disruptions and conflicts, family systems, family as an institution and its relationship to a larger society, programs for families, and cultural expressions of kinship. Families have also been studied in terms of their contemporary problems as well as in terms of their historical transitions through form and functions. In

136

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

recent years, more attention has been given to understanding how policy (e.g., work and family policy, child care policy, health care policy) affects families (Acock, Bengtson, Allen, DilworthAnderson, & Klein, 2005). Feminist, multiracial feminist, and racialethnic scholars in all these different areas of study have articulated how families are connected to the communities they live in, socially, economically, and politically. In particular, the bounty of ethnographic studies of family life from feminist and racial-ethnic perspectives generated since the 1970s has contributed to articulating family ties to communities and how families function in response to their contexts as well as how family and community life are interwoven. As a result of feminist rethinking of “the family” (Thorne, 1982), no wellinformed family studies scholar today would study the family as a private, self-governing space of parents and children without at least a nod toward the notion that families come in different shapes, perform a vast variety of functions, rely on extended family and fictive kin relationships, and are interlinked with different types of contexts (see many examples in the chapters of this volume). Examining family functions and who actually carries them out has revealed that even when people live in separate nuclear family households, family functions carried out by nonresidential others create ties between households and form a sense of community. For example, in All Our Kin, the now classic ethnography of lowincome, urban, Black American families, anthropologist Carol Stack (1974) gave numerous examples of family functions being carried out by others more than just husbands and wives. Families often ate in each other’s homes or took care of other people’s children. Other studies have shown that family functions, such as economic aid in the form of money, goods, and services, elder and child care, assistance with child socialization, automobile and appliance repairs, transportation, emotional support, and advice sharing, are often provided by nonimmediate family members, such as grandparents, aunts and uncles, and adult brothers and sisters (Keefe, Padilla, & Carlos, 1979; Werner, 1984). In the most contemporary renditions of this situation, these relationships take place not only when extended families live geographically close to one another but even across the globe. For

example, child rearing is often carried out by grandmothers and aunts when mothers migrate overseas for work, leaving their own children behind with their extended families (Parreñas, 2005). These family relations often serve to maintain community ties in different parts of the world, as in the case of links between Guatemalan communities in Los Angeles and in Guatemala (Menjivar, 2002). Furthermore, family functions and relationships are not just limited to blood relatives but also include people who function as fictive kin and carry out family roles without the legal relations of marriage and adoption (Stack, 1974). Gay men and lesbian women create “families we choose” with nonbiologically or legally related members of the gay community (Weston, 1991). In Hmong immigrant communities, the entire clan becomes involved in resolving spousal domestic violence because husband-wife relations are seen as affecting the entire Hmong community (Donnelly, 1994). In many relationships between families, children, and child care providers, nonrelated adults are central to child rearing and are often perceived as “like family” (Nelson, 1990; Uttal, 2002). These relationships create family-like ties between members of a community who may not be related by blood or legal ties as well as strengthening ties that define a set of relationships that is larger than the biological family. This broadened notion of who participates in family life is a critique of the notion of the private nuclear family in U.S. society as assumed by Talcott Parsons (1955). Parsons’s structural functionalism theory of family systems dominated family studies in the 1950s and portrayed the family as a specialized system of husband, wife, and children living in a single residential household. In this conceptualization of families, society is divided into the public world and private families, where gendered reproductive household functions (caregiving) are carried out in the private family (meaning by the wife and mother in the family) and economic and citizenship functions are carried out in the public world (by the male head-of-household). In a historical analysis, Engels (1884/1978) argued that families lost their public function as a result of industrialization and the development of wage labor, which pulled men outside the home, leaving women behind at the hearth. Feminist family historians have challenged this “separate spheres” model of family by

11. (Re)Visioning Family Ties to Communities and Contexts

showing how women’s reproductive labor is critical for the productive labor of workers outside the home and for the continued functioning of capitalism (Dalla Costa, 1972) as well as by demonstrating how women often carry out family economic work within the family household space (Rose, 1986). They recast Parsons’s and Engel’s definitions of “the family” as ideological and academic economic concepts that did not reflect the material and social reality of women (Baca Zinn, 2000). Furthermore, they debunked the popular image of a stay-at-home mother, because numerous poor women have historically not been able to exercise the option to not be employed working mothers (Dill, 1988; Kessler-Harris, 1981; Lamphere, 1987). They also added the understanding that the work done by women in their homes has value and their home lives are socially constructed rather than just a natural outcome of an essentialized feminine character to nurture (Gerson, 1985; Oakley, 1975). Work and family studies, in particular, have explored the contemporary interconnections between family members’ employment outside the home and the accomplishment of caregiving within the home. Work and family is a subfield that reflects the intersection of the interest in internal family dynamics of mainstream family studies and feminist perspectives on families as institutions. Although work and family began with questions about how employment affects family dynamics, particularly the role of mothers and the well-being of children (Hoffman & Youngblade, 1999), it has long since matured into a field that looks at how family life influences workplaces as well (Mortimer & London, 1984). Seeing the bidirectional link between work as a site of productive labor and economic production and family as a site of reproductive labor and personal relationships (in fact both sites are both) is an excellent example of studying the ties between families and their communities (in this case, work communities) (Voydanoff, 1984). This scholarship demonstrates that experiences in the family domain heavily influence experiences in the employment domain (and vice versa) (Pleck, 1976; Sokoloff, 1980; Tilly & Scott, 1978) and, finally, that the relationship between employment and family life is experienced differently by men and women (Hochschild, 1989; Pleck, Staines, & Lang, 1980), by women of different class statuses

137

(Mortimer & London, 1984; Pleck, 1976; Rapp, 1982), and by racial and ethnic groups (Dill, 1988, 1994; Nakano Glenn, 1983; Palmer, 1987; Romero, 1992). Furthermore, multiracial feminist scholarship articulated the interconnections between different classes of families and their communities. Many studies of poor women of color who worked as domestic workers in the homes of middle-class women reveal this relationality in the racial division of reproductive labor (Dill, 1988; Nakano Glenn, 1992; Parreñas, 2001; Rollins, 1985; Romero, 1987). Relationality is the idea that power relations exist between families of different class statuses and not just within them (Baca Zinn, 1994, 2000). Although gender relations may disprivilege all women in their relationships with their male partners inside their families, race and class relations may benefit some families (i.e., those of White middle-class women) and subordinate other families (i.e., those of poor women of color) when unpaid reproductive labor is extracted from one family and displaced to another family in the form of wage-earning labor. Because economically privileged women hire poor women to do their domestic work, poor women are forced to forgo their own families in order to earn their living through taking care of other people’s families. While it may be conceptually useful to talk about families and social institutions as separate social domains, it is also still necessary to realize that, in daily life, these social domains are abstractions and people move between family space and other social domains all the time. Acknowledging the family as a building block of society does not have to mean that families operate as isolated nuclear units uninfluenced by the social forces of economic, gender, and race systems and by ideologies about gender roles (Baca Zinn, 2000). With this broadened definition of “family” in hand (what it means to be more than the nuclear family, structurally, and the private family, ideologically), feminist explorations of how families function in connection to institutions and communities outside the family followed. This broader conceptualization of family makes extended families and community relations, including institutions such as schools and workplaces, more important to understanding family functioning and individual human development in family systems. It also recognizes how the

138

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

relations between different classes of families and their communities shape family life. In the next section, I will examine how this new perspective contributed to a broadened conceptualization of context.

BROADENING THE CONCEPTUALIZATION OF CONTEXT The second major contribution of feminist and racial-ethnic family thinking to family studies is a broadened notion of context. Context is an often referenced concept in family studies and human development, suggesting a niche for analyses of family ties with communities. Typically, community has been included in family studies as a type of context. Different communities have been conceptualized as different conditions in which families exist. Feminist and racial-ethnic family studies have added stratification, history, and ideology as three new types of contexts as well as provided examples that rely less on a static methodological conceptualization of community as a fixed variable. Expanding the Ecological Model: Social Stratification as Context The notion that context is important was given a theoretical foothold in human development and family studies by Urie Bronfenbrenner’s model of ecological context. According to the ecological model, no individual life can be fully understood outside the context that surrounds it. Bronfenbrenner (1986) argued that to explain the outcomes of child development, family scholars needed to pay attention to the contexts within which a child was developing. He named several different contexts, including the systems that children have direct contact with (which he named the microsystem), such as their families, schools, child care settings, religious organizations, and neighborhoods. He also pointed out that there are larger social institutions that a young child is not directly in contact with in the larger social system, such as society, culture, and community-based resources (the exosystem) as well as the importance of the connections between contextualizing institutions such as relations between parents and schools (the mesosystem). Bronfenbrenner also included life span development as a context (which he called the chronosystem). His

theoretical additions were paradigm shifting, especially for the brand of family studies that developed in the field of human development and family studies, because he pointed out how child development and family systems are both shaped by their contexts. Although Bronfenbrenner stated that context matters, he did not specifically name the gender system, sexism, gender inequalities or the race system, racism, or racial stratification or discuss how they mattered to human development. Adding race was done by others, such as Peters and Massey (1983), who articulated the mundane extreme stress environment as a context that added chronic, unpredictable acts of racial discrimination and stress to the lives of Black American families. According to McAdoo (1986), African Americans live in the context of White society, whose majoritarian values deny Black people their histories, identities, and economic opportunities. In order to survive, historically subordinated racial-ethnic groups have to adapt their cultures and material and social structural arrangements to accommodate the daily pervasiveness of this harsh environment. Many scholars have identified how racism affects job opportunities, housing, and health care for African Americans, and these conditions are also imposed on other historically subordinated racial-ethnic groups such as Latinos, Asian Americans, and Native Americans (Baca Zinn, Eitzen, & Wells, 2007). García Coll et al.’s (1996) integrative model of child development theoretically extended Bronfenbrenner’s model by explaining the importance of understanding how social stratification as context (using examples of racism, prejudice, discrimination, and segregation) affects child development. They identified how “race” is a unique ecological context for children of color: First, this race context directly influences the organization of family life (jobs, housing, etc.), and second, it indirectly shapes parenting processes (such as child socialization) and child development. Noting that most mainstream developmental scholarship came out of research on White, middle-class children, they argued that more attention needed to be paid to the different communities that children of color grow up in as a result of racial segregation (residential, economic, and social and psychological). In the context of racism as an exosystem that creates

11. (Re)Visioning Family Ties to Communities and Contexts

inhibiting processes, García Coll et al.’s (1996) model also established the relationship between ethnic communities and the larger White society as a mesosystem that shaped child development. García Coll et al. pointed out that children of color are being raised in an “adaptive culture that is the product of the group’s collective history (cultural, political, and economic) and current contextual demands posed by the promoting and inhibiting environment” (p. 1904). They also acknowledged how family and kin networks are microsystems that may also play a protective function in child development. Another important point is that different communities require different social competencies. García Coll et al. (1996) theorized how child development may vary because of the specific environmental demands to which children of color are exposed. Children also move between different cultural communities that hold different expectations of their behavior. For example, in their study of inner-city African American teens, Burton, Obeidallah, and Allison (1996) discovered that inner-city African American adolescents are expected in their families to be young adults and that they experience an accelerated life cycle that shortens the period of adolescence as defined by middle-class U.S. experience. They also found that the blurring of family roles in inner-city African American families may be dysfunctional in schools where teachers expect teens to think and behave like “older children” instead of “younger adults.” In this context, the same functional competencies learned at home become dysfunctional behaviors in a different context, and vice versa. Thus, a major contribution of racial-ethnic family studies was the articulation of the importance of racial stratification in U.S. society and its influence on family life.

139

reshaped by slavery, and this produced modernday racial socialization practices (Hale, 1991). Changing immigration laws shaped different family structures (Nakano Glenn, 1983). Assimilation policies interrupted parental and grandparental relationships in Native American communities and created new types of family relationships (George, 1997). Internment camps did not support traditional gender roles in the Japanese American community and reorganized husband-and-wife relationships (Ina, 1999). The legacy of these historical contexts set the stage for what happens in and to families decades later. The way parents raise their children is shaped by their historical consciousness of past historical events and family stories that are passed down (Gould, 1995). For example, a middleclass Black family in Chicago today may consciously or unconsciously teach their children about racism even before the child experiences it because in their historical consciousness they remember the story of Emmett Till, a 14-yearold Black boy from Chicago who was murdered in Mississippi for interacting with a White woman in 1955 (Nelson, 2003). As the result of internment camps, Japanese American parents might follow a color-blind perspective of race (“We are Americans, just blend in and be your best.”), or they might socialize their children to embrace their racial-ethnic identity and remember the insult (“We are Japanese Americans who were mistreated by our country during World War II.”) (Ina, 1999). The societal perspective that a family embraces depends on its interpretation of its own group’s social history and its adaptive strategies to respond. Feminist and racial-ethnic family studies scholars have demonstrated how history is an important context to be taken into consideration when studying family life.

Adding the Historical Context Other contexts that are glaringly omitted from mainstream family studies are history and societal ideologies. In this section, I will first discuss the context of history. Outside the discipline of history, family studies has been slow to include historical events and family stories about the past as part of the analysis of family lives. Yet history is a factor that has been powerfully influential in the construction of contemporary family lives. For example, Black families were interrupted and

Understanding How Ideologies Shape Family Experience Another expansion of the meaning of context has been to analyze how the different experiences of family members take into account societal ideologies. People draw on popular and cultural ideologies in trying to make sense of their own lives. For example, Rothman (1994) expressed how the ideology of technology can redefine the meaning of parenting; she states

140

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

that “when we think of our relationships with our children as a job to be done well, we are invoking the ideology of technology” (p. 144) rather then conceiving of child rearing as a relational act of caring. And, in Karen Pyke’s (2000) study, Korean and Vietnamese immigrant youth learn to think about their own families as a result of watching shows such as Leave It to Beaver and Ozzie and Harriet. Knowing this ideology of the happy, communicative, and physically expressive nuclear family represented on television, immigrant youth think something is wrong with their families for behaving stoically, without words, and not hugging; they want their parents to be more emotionally warm and expressive with them. Yet they also can reject the ideology and draw on their cultural beliefs about filial piety and are critical of their peers who do not value taking care of their elders. Thus, ideology can both support and make it difficult for individuals to craft their own lives. Economic and race ideologies, as well as gender ideologies, define roles, framing who should and should not be an employed mother, shaping who carries out family functions, and differentially influencing the experiences of individual family members. Studies of family violence have introduced how the justification and support of male violence by ideologies allow domestic violence in the home (Kurz, 1989). Different ideologies shape different perspectives on domestic violence: Women find it difficult to challenge and leave violent relationships because of the ideology of marriage and twoparent families, and police officers, prosecutors, and judges view battering as caused by dysfunctional family relationships because of the ideology of the private family and internal family conflicts. Kurz (1989) makes the point that family practices are often the result of gender ideologies, not simply dysfunctional personalities and families. Understanding the ideology of patriarchy may allow women to challenge their abusers and for politicians to change laws. Another important theoretical point made was that these ideologies can sound very real and have a social impact as if they are real without necessarily being real reflections of what is going on in society for all. Feminist studies of women’s lives revealed the context of ideologies and how important they are as a real social force that shapes theoretical assumptions, social policies, and individual expectations.

Theorizing Intersectionality Intersectionality theory, another new perspective advanced by multiracial feminist family studies scholars, explains how multiple contexts—racial, political, historical, economic, and ideological—intersect to produce unique and diverse expressions of lived reality and experiences of family life. This methodological perspective would also become known as standpoint theory (see works by Dorothy Smith, Nancy Hartsock, Sandra Harding, and Patricia Hill Collins, cited in Harding, 2004). In standpoint theory, intersectionality of different systems (economic, race, mothering ideology, etc.) are acknowledged as important social forces, yet the emphasis in the analysis is on how the individual gives meaning to these forces and is agentic in the social construction of her own life. Although Bronfenbrenner talked about the importance of accounting for contexts, and understood the mesosystemic interconnections, he neglected to theorize how the macrosystem was composed of multiple systems that produce a simultaneity of oppressions. For example, Shirley Hill (2005) stated, “Emancipation created the legal basis for patriarchal families among [B]lack people, although continuing economic and racial exploitation undermined the viability of such families” (p. 75). In this short quote, we see the logic of intersectionality theory; in the late 1800s in the United States (history), societal policies changed allowing Black people to form nuclear, two-parent, employed-father, stay-at-homemother families (family ideology) without the intervention of the slave system (an economic system); yet structural economic circumstances (economic system) since then have combined with racial discrimination (race system) in making it difficult for Black families to maintain this form of patriarchal nuclear families. As a result of these multiple contexts, Black families today exist in diverse forms, and Black men and women take on family functions that vary from the ideological version of the patriarchal, nuclear family. Intersectionality theory recognizes diverse social forces and diverse social constructions of family experiences. Problematizing Context as a Variable In mainstream families studies, it is common to conceptualize community as a static context.

11. (Re)Visioning Family Ties to Communities and Contexts

A recent example of this is found in a study done by Roche, Ensminger, and Cherlin (2007). In their academic literature review, Roche et al. review studies that look at how different parenting styles affect child outcomes (school achievement, abuse and delinquency, and psychological adjustment). Their research design takes the usual starting point (parenting styles and their impact on child outcomes) and introduces community-as-context by asking, “How does the context of a safe/socially organized or dangerous/ socially disorganized neighborhood affect the relationship between parenting and child outcomes?” On determining that there are differences in parenting styles used in different types of neighborhoods, this study concludes that neighborhood context does matter and points out that what kind of parenting style is “better” for positive child outcomes depends on the context of the community/neighborhood. In this case, context is reduced to a variable (safe/unsafe neighborhoods). Kagitçibasi (1995) labels examples such as the Roche et al. (2007) study as the “development-incontext” framework. In this framework, the community is measured as a static condition that surrounds the individual (and/or family). In this type of research, community is treated as a causal, independent variable. To achieve this kind of analysis, contexts are reified as structural variables (social forces) that bear down on parenting processes and indirectly predict child outcomes. Development-in-context studies create a methodological tidiness that reduces social processes to outcome variance when contexts differ. The primary purpose of including context in these types of studies is to demonstrate how different contexts predict different developmental outcomes. This static conceptualization of community works for some research purposes (such as predicting developmental outcomes); but usually it masks agency and meaning and fails to explain the bidirectional relationship between families and communities (Kagitçibasi, 1995). However, some feminist theories (such as intersectionality and social constructionism) challenge variabilization of a static context and the use of statistical methodologies that rely on reducing complex social process to simple address variables. They argue that contexts and communities are not just contrasting states (such as a green or red background). Instead, they criticize these methods that control for

141

social variables for not being able to reflect the diverse psychological and social meanings of how history influences the contemporary consciousness of family life today or the social construction of family ideologies. They assert that different methods are needed that unmask these community processes and reveal the meanings that people use to guide their actions. Engaging Alternative Methodologies Including historical information, and societal ideologies as well as their intersection with other social contexts, and how this knowledge informs contemporary consciousness, has required alternative methodologies for understanding family life. First, the addition of the historical dimension and the power of ideologies allows more abstract levels of analysis to be taken into consideration, and intersectionality (the interaction of different contexts) and individual agency (meaning and experience) are given attention. And studies that include stratification, historical information, and deconstructed ideologies also employ a different type of methodology than variabilizing social science allows. Much of the early feminist and racial-ethnic family studies scholarship used in-depth interviewing to study women’s experiences in family life. This method allowed for explorations of how multiple social contexts, structure, and ideology interplay with women’s decisions about their life choices and how they socially constructed their lives. For example, Kathleen Gerson’s (1985) study examined the different work and family arrangements that were emerging in the 1980s. Through in-depth interviews with 14 childless employed women, 33 women who combined work and family, and 16 fulltime homemakers, Gerson found several different lifestyle pathways: Some women had chosen to remain childless so as to fully devote themselves to their employment, other women had moved out of the labor force and devoted themselves to full-time motherhood, and yet another group of women were simultaneously pursuing motherhood and employment. According to Gerson, the reasons for these different orientations can be explained by a combined look at women’s baseline orientations to employment and motherhood in conjunction with the obstacles and opportunities presented to them as adults. Her analysis combined psychology and

142

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

social structure. She showed how expanded workplace opportunities pulled some women from the home and offered them the option to veer away from domesticity. Yet, at the same time, blocked career opportunities pushed other women out of the workplace because they were burned out and bored or stuck in low-status jobs. To these women, veering toward domesticity (i.e., motherhood) represented an escape from an oppressive workplace. Gerson’s analysis points out that we need to ask about the diverse meanings and significance of mothering and employment to women as well as noting their material circumstances, to understand why women construct different meanings and arrangements of employment and motherhood. Summing up this section, the main point is that, with the addition of stratification, history, and societal ideologies as three new types of contexts to take into account, combined with the use of ethnographic case studies and in-depth interviewing methodologies, feminist and racialethnic family scholarship introduced the notion that contexts are processes and not just static states. The reconceptualizations of contexts, environments, communities, and social forces as macrosystemic processes that shape family processes and human development go beyond how Bronfenbrenner (1986) conceptualized context. Contexts are also communities that embody the spirit of neighborhoods, religious affiliations, schools, and so on, and the meaning given to them by individuals. These contexts can also be conceptualized as norms, values, and institutional practices. In this understanding, contexts are multileveled and intersecting, and we need methods that allow us to capture how contexts change as well as the agency that creates those changes.

THE INTERFLUENTIAL TIES BETWEEN FAMILIES AND COMMUNITIES Beyond the “development-in-context” approach, feminist family and racial-ethnic family scholars have examined the interfluential nature of context and families. The interfluential relationship between communities and family life is better understood because these studies have reframed the field of family studies from community as a static context surrounding family life to how families and communities are relational and interdependent.

Agency and Adaptive Responses At the first level of this relational theorizing is the observation that families are the social construction of human agency. As Baca Zinn (2000) states, Families are not molded from the outside in . . . Family members are neither robots nor lumps of clay. Human agency is critical in understanding how people cope with, adapt to, and often change families to create meaningful lives for themselves. Facing different contingencies, women, men and children shape their families through their own actions and behaviors. The concept of family adaptive strategies can be useful for illustrating ongoing interaction between family members and their social environments. (p. 46)

For example, individual parents assess their community contexts and behave in ways that modify the circumstances created by their community contexts. Robin Jarrett (1997) reviews several studies to show how parenting strategies are responsive to the social context of neighborhoods. Jarrett found that parents make choices about how to raise their children in order to respond to the negative environment of an impoverished urban neighborhood with a limited supply of good child-serving institutions and facilities. Challenging the research that has only shown the connection between neighborhood residence and negative child outcomes, Jarrett’s work reveals the active agency of parents to invent parenting strategies that benefit their children (such as family protection strategies, child-monitoring strategies, parental resource-seeking strategies, and inhome learning strategies). Parents create distinct social and physical worlds within the larger neighborhood. Parents garner resources in creative ways to ensure their child’s development; for example, they use kin to access resources outside the neighborhood, as in sending children to school in a relative’s neighborhood because schools are better in more well-to-do neighborhoods (a different context). Parents can expose children to positive experiences even when living in an impoverished environment by changing the experiences they expose their children to at home. What Jarrett’s work first and foremost reveals is the active agency of parents to manipulate their environments to benefit their children.

11. (Re)Visioning Family Ties to Communities and Contexts

Communities Responding to Families At the second level of this relational construct, communities also change in response to what families do. Feminist and racial-ethnic family studies reveal how family activities (economic work, caregiving work, child socialization) influence how communities and social policies function in response to family life. For example, the welfare policy Aid to Families With Dependent Children (AFDC) (in effect between 1935 and 1997) was first designed to make it possible for mothers of young children to stay home and care for their children based on the ideology of stay-at-home motherhood that was dominant during this time. However, as more and more poor women used AFDC, and ideologies of motherhood shifted because more and more women were employed by choice outside their homes even when they had very young children, the policy shifted to the welfare-towork policy that required women with very young children to be employed or in some kind of training program in order to receive cash welfare payments (Quadagno, 1996). This demonstrates a feedback loop of the dynamic relationship between the microlevel actions of families and macrolevel societal responses that occur over time. Interfluentiality Putting these two processes together in a bidirectional framework is what defines this as interfluentiality. This dynamic of families being influenced by their communities and communities responding to the actions of families shows the interlinked quality of family and communities. Myers-Wall and Frias (2007) state that “boundaries exist that separate [family, school, and community as separate systems] from each other, but their interconnection and interdependence mean that a change in one system creates changes in the other” (p. 196). Others also speak to these dynamic processes of mutual influence, and their work inspired me to use the term interfluentiality to try and capture this complexity and dynamism. The interlinked relationship between family and communities creates an interfluential dynamic. Like intersectionality and standpoint theory, interfluentiality acknowledges the interactions of multiple social systems and the diversity of experience and meaning that produce a dynamic process

143

between both levels of analysis, resulting in families and communities changing one another. Numerous examples that are particularly illustrative of this interfluential relationship between families and communities are found in studies of how women as members of families shape their communities through their participation in community-organizing actions. Because women of color provided care in the face of assaults by cultural and economic systems (Dill, 1988; Nakano Glenn, 1985), their family lives were often lived in relation to what was going on outside the home, and responsive to those contexts as well as resisting, challenging, and changing those contexts. Women are motivated by their family caregiving responsibilities, especially for their children, to act in ways that transform their communities and community institutions. This is particularly evident in the studies of racial-ethnic families, where women are key actors in community development, family maintenance, and resisting racial oppression (Baca Zinn, 2000), and in studies of school and family relations, where institutional arrangements are challenged and changed. Carework that has been done typically by women for their own children and family members has translated into community building at a very fundamental, basic level. Like housework, this local work is often taken for granted and invisible, although its impact and necessity would be noticed if it disappeared. When the daily caregiving that women do for their children and other family members requires changing the institutions or environment around them, it becomes what Cancian and Oliker (2000) have called “community caregiving.” Community caregiving is typically motivated by an immediate concern by a parent for her child’s well-being. In her efforts to individually fix or improve the situation for her child, the parent also improves the situation for the community’s children as well. For example, Mary Pardo’s (1998) study of a predominantly Mexican American and Mexican immigrant working-class neighborhood demonstrated how women began to organize because their organizing felt like a natural extension of their family roles. Women got involved in efforts to change their neighborhoods because they were thinking about what was in the best interests of their children. Mothers organized to educate about lead poisoning and immunization awareness and about resisting

144

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

parole offices in their neighborhoods. Pardo also described a neighborhood effort that targeted stopping billboards from invading a community. The women’s motivation was neither beautification of the neighborhood nor to gain a voice in local politics but to protect their children from the moral values expressed by scantily clad women and other culturally offensive images on the billboards. These studies about women in families who acted to improve their local communities also serve to improve an academic understanding of the relationship between families and communities. Another common example of community caregiving is when parents get involved in their children’s schools. Several ethnographic studies have illustrated the interdependency of families, neighborhoods, and schools. In particular, Delgado-Gaitan’s (2001) study shows how the relationship between families and schools develops and how families can change the school system. She studied a community in California where Latino parents realized that they first needed to define their individual worries about their children’s school experiences as a community concern. They created a comfortable space where they could explore their concerns, develop a sense of community, and identify their strengths. Even though a formal parent-teacher association existed to address their individual concerns, it was not until they developed their own sense of community as Latino parents that they were confident enough to attend these meetings or meet with school administrators to ask for changes. The parents first met in informal, ethnically specific groups that gave them the opportunity to listen to each other and support one another. Initially, the agenda was open, allowing for a more dynamic, conversational style that encouraged parents to raise any issue for discussion. Only through this dynamic, dialogical process did a collective identity as “Latino parents” eventually emerge, one which was based on trust, familiarity, and confidence in the validity of their shared concerns (Delgado-Gaitan, 2001). Another example of interfluentiality emerges from studies of how ideologies change when lifestyle practices change over time. For example, in less than 50 years, the majoritarian view of maternal employment has shifted from disapproval to acceptance of mothers with jobs as a daily reality of modern social life for all classes

of women (Uttal, 2002). As this ideology changed, women’s lives changed (higher rates of employment of mothers with very young children). As more women worked when they had small children, it influenced and changed ideologies about motherhood—instead of feeling guilty about being employed mothers, employed mothers called for more child care services— and policies were formed to respond to the “new” employment roles of mothers (policies that provide family leave as well as defining standards for quality child care). Similarly, as using child care services became more socially acceptable, the informal economy and invisible patchwork child care arrangements were replaced by a highly regulated new economy of child care services and definitions of child care providers as professional teachers (Uttal, 2002). Together, these three examples theorize how the relationship between families and communities is a dynamic, interfluential process.

CONCLUSION Many of the advances in family studies have been made by applying ideas from feminist and racialethnic studies to family life. It is my hope that family studies scholarship will continue to draw on feminist, multiracial feminist, and racialethnic ideas and that eventually these ideas may be more generally adopted in the field of family studies at large. In particular, studies about women and their family lives have been revelatory in elucidating the links between families and communities. Feminist, multiracial feminist, and racial-ethnic family scholars have provided a broader view of what counts as context. Stratification is taken more seriously in understanding family processes and child developmental outcomes. Social history, the simple facts of what happened in the past in a community, is more recognized as an important context that influences what happens in families today. Ideologies, the majoritarian belief systems that are shared at the societal level, are included as a powerful context that influences and is influenced by families. Agency, how individuals give meanings to their daily experiences and pasts, has increased in its visibility in scholarship that examines the social construction of family life. To get beyond a methodological definition of contexts as static, contrasting states, methodologies

11. (Re)Visioning Family Ties to Communities and Contexts

that allow for back-and-forth processes between families and communities were developed. These may be the only ways to theoretically capture the interfluential ties between multiple macro-, meso-, and microsystems and meaning and agency in understanding the interfluential nature of families, their members, and broadened notions of contexts. The purpose of this chapter was to remind us how feminist, multiracial feminist, and racialethnic family scholarship has contributed to understanding the importance of the interdependent nature of individuals, families, and communities in family studies, and to demonstrate how individuals and families are not just contextualized by, but are interfluential with, communities, histories, ideologies, social institutions, and social policies. Communities can also be conceived of as a family’s relationships with neighborhoods and neighbors, connections with social service programs, and connections between work and family and families and schools as well as with the historical ideas and changing ideologies of specific ethnic and religious communities. From this review, I would propose that mainstream family studies (e.g., graduate programs, journal articles, community-based research, social policies) would benefit from being more fully transformed by these theoretical and methodological frameworks that have been given to us by feminist, multiracial feminist, and racial-ethnic family studies. They provide a way to more deeply understand contemporary family life in the United States. This scholarship reminds us that families are not just in communities; families are community.

REFERENCES Acock, A. C., Bengtson, V. L., Allen, K. R., Dilworth-Anderson, P., & Klein, D. M. (Eds.). (2005). Sourcebook of family theory and research. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Baca Zinn, M. (1994). Feminist rethinking from racial-ethnic families. In M. Baca Zinn & B. T. Dill (Eds.), Women of color in U.S. society (pp. 303–314). Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Baca Zinn, M. (2000). Feminism and family studies for a new century. Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, 571, 42–56. Baca Zinn, M., & Dill, B. T. (1996). Theorizing difference from multiracial feminism. Feminist Studies, 22(2), 321–330. Baca Zinn, M., Eitzen, D. S., & Wells, B. (2007). Diversity in families (8th ed.). Columbus, OH: Allyn & Bacon. Bronfenbrenner, U. (1986). Ecology of the family as a context for human development: Research perspectives. Developmental Psychology, 22(6), 723–742. Burton, L., Obeidallah, D. A., & Allison, K. (1996). Ethnographic insights on social context and adolescent development among inner-city African American teens. In R. Jessor, A. Colby, &

145

R. A. Shweder (Eds.), Ethnography and human development (pp. 394–418). Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Cancian, F., & Oliker, S. (2000). Caring and gender. Thousand Oaks, CA: Pine Forge Press. Dalla Costa, M. (1972). Women and the subversion of the community. In M. Dalla Costa & S. James (Eds.), The power of women and the subversion of the community (pp. 19–54). Bristol, UK: Falling Wall Press. Delgado-Gaitan, C. (2001). The power of community: Mobilizing for schooling and community. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield. Dill, B. T. (1988). Our mother’s grief: Racial ethnic women and the maintenance of families. Journal of Family History, 12(4), 415–431. Dill, B. T. (1994). Across the boundaries of race and class: An exploration of work and family among Black female domestic workers. New York: Garland Press. Donnelly, N. (1994). Changing lives of refugee Hmong women. Seattle: University of Washington Press. Engels, F. (1978). The origin of the family, private property, and the state. In R. C. Tucker (Ed.), The Marx-Engels reader (pp. 734–759). New York. W. W. Norton. (Original work published 1884) García Coll, C., Lamberty, G., Jenkins, R., McAdoo, H. P., Crnic, K., Wasik, B. H., et al. (1996). An integrative model for the study of developmental competencies in minority children. Child Development, 67, 1891–1914. George. L. (1997). Why the need for the Indian child welfare act? Journal of Multicultural Social Work, 5, 165–175. Gerson, K. (1985). Hard choices: How women decide about work, career, and motherhood. Berkeley: University of California Press. Gould, J. (1995). American Indian women’s poetry: Strategies of rage and hope. Signs, 20(4), 797–817. Hale, J. (1991). The transmission of cultural values to young African American children. Young Children, 46(6), 7–14. Harding, S. (2004). The standpoint theory reader. New York: Routledge. Hill, S. A. (2005). Black intimacies: A gender perspective on families and relationships. Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press. Hochschild, A. (with Machung, A.). (1989). The second shift. New York: Viking Press. Hoffman, L., & Youngblade, L. M. (1999). Mothers at work: Effects on children’s well-being. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Ina, S. (Producer). (1999). Children of the camps [Videorecording]. San Francisco: National Asian American Telecommunications Association. Jarrett, R. (1997). African American family and parenting strategies in impoverished neighborhoods. Qualitative Sociology, 20(2), 275–288. Kagitçibasi, Ç. (1995). Is psychology really relevant to global human development issues? American Psychologist, 50(4), 293–300. Keefe, S. E., Padilla, A. M., & Carlos, M. L. (1979). The Mexican American family as an emotional support system. Human Organization, 38(2), 144–152. Kessler-Harris, A. (1981). Women have always worked: A historical overview. Old Westbury, NY: Feminist Press. Kurz, D. (1989). Social science perspectives on wife abuse: Current debates and future directions. Gender & Society, 3(4), 489–505. Lamphere, L. (1987). From working daughters to working mothers: Immigrant women in a New England industrial community. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. McAdoo, H. P. (1986). Societal stress: The Black family. In J. B. Cole (Ed.), All American women (pp. 189–197). New York: Free Press. Menjivar, C. (2002). Living between two worlds? Guatemalan-origin children in the United States and emerging transnationalism. Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies, 28(3), 531–552. Mortimer, J. T., & London, J. (1984). The varying linkages of work and family. In P. Voydanoff (Ed.), Work and family: The changing roles of men and women (pp. 20–35). Palo Alto, CA: Mayfield.

146

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

Myers-Wall, J. A., & Frias, L. V. (2007). Family, school, and community: Finding green lights at the intersection. In B. S. Trask & R. R. Hamon (Eds.), Cultural diversity and families (pp. 194–209). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Nakano Glenn, E. (1983). Split household, small producer, and dual wage earner: An analysis of Chinese American family strategies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 45(1), 35–46. Nakano Glenn, E. (1985). Racial ethnic women’s labor: The intersection of race, gender, and class oppression. Review of Radical Political Economy, 17(3), 86–108. Nakano Glenn, E. (1992). From servitude to service work: Historical continuities in the racial division of paid reproductive labor. Signs, 18, 1–43. Nelson, M. K. (1990). Negotiated care: The experience of family day care providers. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Nelson, S. (Producer). (2003). The murder of Emmet Till [Videorecording]. Boston: WGBH Educational Foundation. Oakley, A. (1975). The sociology of housework. New York: Pantheon Books. Palmer, P. (1987). Domesticity and dirt: Housewives and domestic servants in the United States, 1920–1945. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Pardo, M. S. (1998). Mexican American women activists: Identity and resistance in two Los Angeles communities. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Parreñas, R. S. (2001). Servants of globalization: Women, migration, and domestic work. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Parreñas, R. S. (2005). Long distance intimacy: Class, gender, and intergenerational relations between mothers and children in Filipino transnational families, Global Networks, 5, 317–336. Parsons, T. (1955). The American family: Its relations to personality and social structure. In T. Parsons & R. F. Bales (Eds.), Family, socialization, and interaction process (pp. 3–34). Glencoe, IL: Free Press. Peters, M., & Massey, G. (1983). Mundane extreme environmental stress in family stress theories: The case of Black families in White America. Marriage and Family Review, 6(1/2), 193–218. Pleck, E. (1976). Two worlds in one: Work and family. Journal of Social History, 10(2), 178–195. Pleck, J., Staines, G., & Lang, L. (1980). Conflicts between work and family. Monthly Labor Review, 103(3), 29–32. Pyke, K. (2000). “The normal American family” as an interpretive structure of family life among grown children of Korean

and Vietnamese immigrants. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 240–255. Quadagno, J. S. (1996). The color of welfare: How racism undermined the war on poverty. New York: Oxford University Press. Rapp, R. (1982). Family and class in contemporary America: Notes towards an understanding of ideology. In B. Thorne (with M. Yalom) (Ed.), Rethinking the family (pp. 168–187). New York: Longman. Roche, K. M., Ensminger, M. E., & Cherlin, A. J. (2007). Variations in parenting and adolescent outcomes among African American and Latino families living in low-income, urban areas. Journal of Family Issues, 28(7), 882–909. Rollins, J. (1985). Between women: Domestics and their employers. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Romero, M. (1987). Domestic service in the transition from rural to urban life: The case of la Chicana. Women’s Studies, 13, 199–222. Romero, M. (1992). Maid in the U.S.A. New York: Routledge. Rose, S. (1986). Gender and industrialization. Comparative Historical Sociology, 3(4), 1–3. Rothman, B. K. (1994). Beyond mothers and fathers: Ideology in a patriarchal society. In E. Nakano Glenn, G. Change, & L. R. Forcey (Eds.), Mothering: Ideology, experience, and agency (pp. 139–157). New York: Routledge. Sokoloff, N. (1980). Between money and love: The dialectics of women’s home and market work. New York: Praeger. Stack, C. (1974). All our kin: Strategies for survival in a Black community. New York: Harper & Row. Thorne, B. (with Yalom, M.). (Ed.). (1982). Rethinking the family: Some feminist questions. New York: Longman. Tilly, L., & Scott, J. (1978). Women, work, and family. New York: Holt, Rinehart, & Winston. Uttal, L. (2002). Making care work: Employed mothers in the new market of child care. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Voydanoff, P. (1984). Work and family: The changing roles of men and women. Palo Alto, CA: Mayfield. Werner, E. E. (1984). Child care: Kith, kin, and hired hands. Baltimore: University Park Press. Weston, K. (1991). Families we choose: Lesbians, gays, kinship. New York: Columbia University Press. Wills, J. B., & Risman, B. J. (2006). The visibility of feminist thought in family studies. Journal of Marriage and Family, 68, 690–700.

12 (RE)VISIONING GENDER, AGE, AND AGING IN FAMILIES I NGRID A RNET C ONNIDIS A LEXIS J. WALKER

I

n this chapter, we consider how a feminist approach furthers research and conceptual advancement regarding aging and family ties. A central component of our framework is attending to the interacting influences of multiple levels of analysis—namely, the individual, institutional (including family), and societal (including structured social relations) levels. We explore how a feminist approach combines with a life course framework, a critical perspective, and the concept of ambivalence to improve our understanding of family ties and aging. We discuss a number of intersections, including those between the fields of aging and family studies, between family life and gender relations, between gender and age relations, between feminist perspectives and other theoretical perspectives, and between theory and research. We begin by addressing the chapter’s title and the term aging families.

WHO IS AGING? One often hears the term aging families, but this term suggests a monolithic family form. In fact, it is individuals who age. Relationships that endure may also be said to age. Over time, we build a life course of experience as we negotiate variable

circumstances and vantage points as family members and as participants in other social domains, including paid work. As the network of family relations changes as we advance from being a younger to an older member, the ongoing flow of individual lives creates varying degrees of regeneration, depending on how many individual family members have partners, have children or marry someone who does, and so on. A feminist perspective highlights the variability of experience created by gender relations that applies to family life and to aging. The concept of aging families tends to mask this variability, as though families age in uniform ways for all their members. A key revisioning that comes from a feminist perspective is to highlight the multiple realities of family life by thinking in terms of family ties and aging rather than of aging families. Here, we consider the basic premises of feminist perspectives before exploring their intersection with other theoretical perspectives and with the study of family ties and aging.

COMMON THEMES IN FEMINIST PERSPECTIVES Feminist perspectives have evolved over several decades. The initial contribution of feminist 147

148

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

work was to bring attention to the unique situation of women, to generate research about women, and to expose and eliminate discriminatory conditions and oppressive social roles (Thorne, 1982; Walker & Thompson, 1984). In response to a subsequent critique of the focus on women, and particularly on White, middle-class women (Andersen, 2005), there was a surge of research on men. The current challenge for feminist scholarship is to bring the multiple situations of men and women together to focus on socially constructed gender relations. An ongoing issue is whether gender relations should stand as the central axis in feminist family gerontology or as one of multiple axes of social location that include class, race, sexual orientation, and, more recently, age (Risman, 2004). Feminist perspectives often ignore or minimize significant structured social relations other than gender, including those based on age (Calasanti & Slevin, 2006; Garner, 1999; Krekula, 2007). Friedan (1993) made an early link between aging and women’s experience when she claimed that life expectancy triggered feminist thinking. She argued that more years ahead created a “growing sense that we couldn’t live all those years in terms of ‘motherhood’ alone” (p. 96). As a domain of social life in which women’s lives are heavily implicated, then, later life family ties should be a significant site for feminist work. Social change and maturing feminist perspectives have brought consistency in pivotal dimensions across various versions of feminist theory. The social constructionism that characterizes contemporary feminist perspectives keeps the social character of knowledge production in the foreground (Sprague, 2005). Among the first to conceptualize gender as a social construction, Smith (1987) emphasizes the need to connect the everyday world of women with the social process of its organization. As in the symbolic interactionist perspective, Smith links the macro- and microlevels as a determinate process in which one creates the other. In more recent work, Andersen (2005), Martin (2004), and Risman (2004) also characterize gender as socially created. They argue, too, that gender is implicated in other forms of social relations, including family relations. According to dominant, contemporary strains of feminism (e.g., Andersen, 2005; Martin, 2004; Risman, 2004), a feminist approach to gender also includes the connection between structure and agency and a power analysis. Sprague (2005) cautions that the failure to

take a feminist approach leads researchers to treat individuals as objects who are acted on rather than as subjects who exercise agency. Power analysis focuses on “the matrix of domination” (Collins, 1990) comprising the interlocking relationships of race, class, and gender (see also Andersen, 2005). As is true of much other feminist work, age relations do not appear as a key social relation. Martin (2004) argues that a feminist approach links gender to race, class, sexuality, and age in its concern with power; reinstatement of the material body as a culturally mediated entity through which women experience and act in the world (a significant issue in conjunction with aging; see Twigg, 2004); and acknowledgement of disjuncture, conflict, and change as typical of social life. She argues that gender is institutionalized through ideology, practices, constraints, conflicts, and power, and challenges the macro-micro dualism that characterizes earlier attempts to link individual experience with the larger societal context. Feminists argue that dichotomies such as macro-micro construct social ties in a way that fosters power imbalance (see also Sprague, 2005). The macro-micro dualism also fails to explicate the avenues through which individual action and macro-level forces connect. In this vein, Risman (2004) argues that we must pay attention to gender at the individual, interactional, and institutional levels. In her model, the individual level refers to the gendered selves that are a product of socialization, internalization, identity work, and construction of the self. At the interactional level, women and men face gendered cultural expectations about how they are to behave in their relationships, including gendered views of status, cognitive bias, needs for protection and protecting, and subordinate and superordinate positions. In marriage, for example, wives are seen to give up power to receive the benefits of their husband’s patronage. At the institutional level, organizational practices, legal regulations, ideology, and the distribution of resources encourage and reinforce gender relations. According to Risman (2004), factors at all three levels must coalesce for major change to occur. As an example, she argues that resistance to traditional marriage and the negotiation of an egalitarian relationship among heterosexual couples is possible if, at the individual level, there are enabling contexts such as identification

12. (Re)Visioning Gender, Age, and Aging in Families

with the opposite gender; at the interactional level, a feminist ideology is held by both partners; and, at the institutional level, economic privilege and job flexibility provide opportunities for carrying through on egalitarian ideals. For most, institutional arrangements such as the gendered wage gap and the inflexible organization of careers do not provide optimal conditions for negotiating egalitarian relationships. And yet feminist parents could encourage social change by banding together to force alterations in the workplace that recognize employees’ responsibilities as both paid workers and family members (Risman). The interconnection of social identity, the material body, and socially structured relations are brought together in aging research that critically questions cultural constructions of old age. Age relations that favor the young over the old promote attempts to disguise the signs of aging that the body reveals. Efforts to look younger through means such as coloring hair or plastic surgery (Biggs, 2005; Estes, Biggs, & Phillipson, 2003; Twigg, 2004) or to act younger through interventions such as Viagra (Marshall & Katz, 2002) are part of a culture that devalues old age, including its appearance. A major task of identity work in old age involves managing the outward signs of an aging body, especially among women, and the sexual functioning in men of all ages; thus, this effort is also gendered. For example, erection medications have both individual and relational effects, influencing men’s self-image, increasing the emphasis on penile-vaginal intercourse rather than noncoital sexual activities that women find pleasurable, and even maintaining or enhancing power imbalances when men take the pill without negotiating first with their wife (Potts, Gavey, Grace, & Vares, 2003). Social constructions of the aging body include frailty, typified by the “little old lady,” a feature that diminishes old people as objects of pity at the same time that it becomes an increasingly important marker of entitlement to shrinking social services (Grenier & Hanley, 2007). Like Smith, Pyke (1996) takes an interactionist approach in which gender is “a dynamic and emergent property of situated interaction” (p. 528) that can only continue if repeated. Like most current feminist perspectives, gender relations are seen to create multiple femininities and masculinities. Risman (2004) calls for the study

149

of gender both on its own and as one of a set of intersecting domains of inequality. Feminist work must also go beyond theorizing, proposing avenues for social transformations that reduce inequality and improve the status of women. This concern with linking theory to action or praxis on behalf of those with less power is also central to the critical approaches to aging (Estes et al., 2003). Pyke’s (1996) feminist critical view assumes that cultural ideologies in support of oppression are a conduit between macrostructural inequalities and microlevel power relations. Thus, the inner workings of family life are linked to structured social relations at the macrolevel. As a starting point to theory building that takes a feminist perspective, we are persuaded to consider an interactive framework of factors at the multiple levels of individuals, institutions, and society.

THE INTERSECTION OF FAMILY TIES AND AGING Unlike exploring aging or families, exploring aging families brings together two areas of study with the potential benefit of enhancing both of them (Connidis, 2001, 2009). Their amalgamation also runs the risk of reinforcing shared shortcomings. The areas of aging and of family have two common characteristics that can impede a critical understanding of their realities. First, both fields are of general interest to the public and to government ministries and departments with related policy concerns. As a result, studies of family and aging are plagued by a problem orientation. A problem orientation often leads researchers to highlight individual rather than structural causes (Sprague, 2005). Although research with a problem focus is often framed as demanding a policy response, this orientation usually works within the established parameters of family life and of aging, and it is geared toward documenting current realities and proposing change that fits within existing normative patterns rather than toward major social change. The focus on normative patterns is reinforced by a second shared trait in which both families and aging are viewed as natural, essential, or a combination of the two. When aging is seen as “natural,” we tend to be uncritical about the ways

150

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

in which aging is socially constructed. Similarly, when current ideals of family life are seen as essential, we fail to critically assess the social constructions behind family life that serve the interests of some better than others. In both cases, an uncritical gaze supports the ongoing reproduction of current arrangements and inequalities. Changes in family life and in population aging are often regarded as problematic because they threaten established ways of doing things. In the case of families, for example, rising divorce rates were and often still are seen as a threat to stable family life and to the well-being of family members, particularly children. Viewing divorce as a problem prompted documenting its extent and its impact within the framework of traditional family life. Similarly, research on both personal and population aging has had a problem orientation designed to figure out how to manage or even optimize getting older or how to accommodate more old people within the parameters of established patterns of social life that focus on productivity. Fact finding and problem solving drive a focus on existing practices, dampen critical questioning, and undermine conceptual and theoretical development. A more critical gaze prompts us to question whether there is anything about the type of unions that we encourage, or in our view of age-appropriate activity and engagement, that is itself problematic. Such bigger questions require conceptual and theoretical thinking about fundamental beliefs and values that are embedded in the ways that we do social life, including family, and in how they are associated with aging. At the societal level, gender relations are played out across the life course and thus crosscut age relations. At the institutional level of family, both age and gender relations are played out in ways that are exposed and understood through feminist and critical analysis. As a primary domain of women’s lives, family life has been a central site of feminist critique regarding gender relations (Thorne, 1982; Thompson & Walker, 1989). Although theoretical development is more characteristic of family studies than of aging studies, connecting family life with aging reveals the tendency of many familytheoretical frameworks to operate within the boundaries of the status quo. One element of the status quo is socially structured age relations in which older persons are treated as relatively peripheral in comparison with their

younger adult counterparts. This treatment has meant a focus on family issues that are of central concern to young and, to a lesser extent, middle-aged adults, and that serve to reproduce the social order as we have known it for most of the past century: marriage, childbearing, and child rearing, with a consequent focus on spousal relationships, ties of children and adolescents with their parents, and sibling ties in childhood. Feminist attention to gender discrimination in the labor force and women’s efforts to balance paid work and family also ignores the older members of society who typically are no longer involved in waged labor (Gibson, 1996; Krekula, 2007). Other topics that fall outside the parameters of issues associated with young, heterosexual, childbearing families—the family lives of unmarried adults, of childless adults, of adult steprelatives, of gay/lesbian/bisexual/transgendered couples or individuals, and of adult relationships with siblings—also receive limited attention. In sum, although feminist perspectives have made significant inroads in family studies, the limited crossover of gender relations with age relations in family research has meant fewer instances of applying feminist approaches to family ties and aging. For example, if extended to old women, Di Leonardo’s (1987) emphasis on kinwork as both a source of power and of emotional fulfillment could help us meet Gibson’s (1996) challenge that their lifelong experience of developing and maintaining social ties puts women in a strong position to negotiate the conditions of old age. Walker, Martin, and Jones (1992) have shown that old women, even those receiving care from family members, are active relational partners and powerful sources of influence on their intergenerational partners. Resistance to dominant views of the aging body is evident among women who counter others’ claims of their frailty (Grenier & Hanley, 2007) and in the diminished importance that some old women assign to appearance relative to other issues such as good health and competence in daily living (Krekula, 2007). Taking into consideration women as kinworkers, as active relational partners, and as agents in their identity construction simultaneously builds from old women’s everyday life experience and helps counteract the notion that they are a social problem. Connecting family with aging through a feminist approach necessarily means taking a

12. (Re)Visioning Gender, Age, and Aging in Families

broader view than is typical of research in either field. The traditional focus of family as the location of procreation and child rearing directs attention to women as childbearers and to younger adults as child rearers. Even those old persons whose paths are the extension of conventional lives fall outside the boundaries of such mainstream family research. Most old people do not live in nuclear households; many old people do not have a partner because of never marrying, divorce or dissolution of a longstanding relationship, or the death of a partner. Not surprisingly, many old people live alone (Connidis, 2001). Although not having a partner or dependent children puts old people outside the experience of many younger adults, it does not put them outside the experience of family life (Allen & Pickett, 1987). Evidence about the family lives of older persons thus forces an extension of how we view families and moves us in a desirable direction away from a monolithic view of “the family.” We see the possibilities of alternatives to marriage that may bring greater equality and satisfaction (Connidis, 2006). The study of aging has its own limitations. Although it has a longer history than many assume, the study of aging took off exponentially in the 1970s and 1980s when population aging was defined as a significant social problem that required answers. The framing of aging— more properly population aging—as a social problem and the quest for answers fueled empirical, quantitative research creating an avalanche of findings but a shortage of ideas in which to frame them. The focus on old age as both an individual and population problem diverts attention from common concerns across, and significant differences within, age groups, further isolating the study of aging from the rest of life and failing to look at old age in the context of age relations that intersect with other structured social relations. The family is a unique institutional site for studying the interplay of the macrolevel forces of gender and age relations, as well as the negotiation of relationships by individuals. In the context of opposite-sex marriages, the dyad of a current couple (extended to more complicated relationship dynamics following relationship dissolution, and subsequent re-coupling) requires that individuals work out gender issues in their daily interpersonal relations. Similarly, intergenerational ties require members of different

151

generations to work out age relations in their personal relationships with one another. The same is possible regarding class (regarding adult siblings, see Connidis, 2007) and race (e.g., intermarriage) but, more commonly than is true of gender and age relations, class and race positions are likely to be shared within a family. When gender is extended to include sexual orientation, the experience of gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered family members negotiating their relationships with each other as well as with parents, grandparents, siblings, children, and other kin provides a complex mix of gender and age relations that is played out within families. To date, limiting views of families and of old age have excluded sexuality in late life in general, but especially the sexuality of gay, lesbian, and other nonheterosexual middle-aged and old persons (Heaphy, 2007; see also Allen, 2005). An important component of a critical feminist approach is the inclusion of sexual identity and sexuality as explicit elements of gender relations and their intersection with age relations. As the above examples show, we are taken in exciting and new directions when aging and family scholars combine the study of aging and the old with the study of families; the old are brought back into social relationships with people of various ages. In turn, the centrality of gender in families underscores the crosscutting of age and gender relations in family life. An interest in aging leads feminists to look at the long-term implications of the way we do gender in families at earlier life stages. For example, it shows how mothers’ responsibility for children extends to expectations that adult sisters will care for their adult siblings with disabilities as their mothers age (McGraw & Walker, 2007). Ideally, a feminist perspective prompts a critical exploration of the crossroads where aging and families meet. Indeed, Reinharz (1986) identifies significant intersections between feminism and gerontology, including a shared interest in raising consciousness about inequities, using methods and theories that accurately depict life experience, and focusing on social change. To what extent has the promise of these common concerns been met?

INFLUENCE OF FEMINIST PERSPECTIVES In some respects, feminist ideas are evident in mainstream research, even when a feminist

152

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

orientation is not claimed by the author or researcher. For example, the inclusiveness that characterizes feminist perspectives prompts attention to a broader range of family relationships, including gay and lesbian family ties (the intersection of gender and sexual orientation), and liberates us from a focus on the nuclear family and traditional family ties. An example is seen in recent research by Schmeeckle (2007), who demonstrates the perseverance of gendered patterns among both parents and stepparents. More subtle influences of feminist perspectives are evident in work that does not take an overtly feminist stance but that does interpret findings in the unique contexts of men’s and women’s lives. For example, research on committed relationships in which partners are “living apart together” (coined LAT relationships) interprets older women’s desire for the independence and freedom from caregiving that such arrangements allow in the implicitly feminist context of gendered relations in patriarchal marriage (de Jong Gierveld, 2004). Similarly, work on cohabitation reveals that greater gender equality improves the odds of staying together (Sprecher & Regan, 2000), making it a good choice for emancipated women and men. Indeed, among middle-aged and old women, cohabitation and marriage have equally positive effects on wellbeing (Brown, Bulanda, & Lee, 2005). Very few would now question the relevance of gender relations to understanding family ties and aging. Calasanti (2004) criticizes feminists for ignoring age relations and shows how a feminist focus on power can highlight social inequalities rooted in the intersection of age and gender. She illustrates how the caregiving of old wives is devalued relative to that of younger women because carework for children is valued more than carework for old people and she highlights the relative invisibility of husband caregivers (Calasanti, 2006). Together with King (Calasanti & King, 2007), she demonstrates that interventions developed from women’s caregiving experiences are not likely to be successful in programs for caregiving husbands. Feminist perspectives also influence conceptual approaches to studying family relationships and aging. For example, the concept of sociological ambivalence emphasizes the context of structured social relations and the significance of feminist and critical perspectives to understanding family relationships (Connidis & McMullin, 2002a, 2002b).

This emphasis prompts attention to multiple perspectives and voices within families and to the action of relationships that involves negotiating (power) relations and contradictions of social life. Willson, Shuey, and Elder (2003) use this approach to demonstrate how a gendered structure of kin relations influences the connections between adult children, their parents, and their in-laws. Yet an ongoing need to catch up with real experience remains. For example, parenting and grandparenting over the long term are areas that must capture the new realities of women’s and men’s lives. We know that having children tends to reinforce traditionalism (Coltrane, 2000), often leading couples to revert to old ways of doing gender (e.g., in the sharing of paid work and child care). Nevertheless, there are also changing realities regarding the process of decision making in the increased agency of women to choose their degree of involvement with children, and, given sufficient economic resources, the extent of their participation in the labor force. In the context of greater egalitarianism, what happens when children become independent? What are the current male and female perspectives on the empty nest? Will the pattern of women retiring when their husbands or partners do continue? Will mothers want to be child care providers to their grandchildren in middle and old age during and/or after a lifetime of combining paid work and family obligations? Despite an alleged focus on aging, our explorations of adult family relationships continue to focus on the perspective of the middle generation and relationships with aging family members from their point of view. For example, more research concerns adult children’s shifting responsibilities toward old parents than old parents’ shifting perspectives on their relationships with their adult children. Paying more attention to the intersection of various structured relations, particularly concerning gender and age relations, has the promise of taking us forward in research on such topics. This promise is enhanced by bringing feminist perspectives to the life course approach, critical perspectives, and ambivalence.

EXTENDING FEMINIST PERSPECTIVES: THEORETICAL INTERSECTIONS The folly of viewing a particular social arrangement as natural and essential is at the heart of feminist

12. (Re)Visioning Gender, Age, and Aging in Families

frameworks (Sprague, 2005; Thorne, 1982). The traditions of feminist theorizing and research to expose the social construction of gender, to reveal the ways in which patriarchal gender relations reproduce inequality, and to challenge gender as neither natural nor essential, provide a useful orientation to research and theory in the areas of aging and family. As we have seen, feminist theoretical approaches are pivotal in drawing our attention to how apparently benign interpersonal relationships actually reproduce entrenched socially structured social relations of gender. Calls to attend to other structured social relations, however, have met with varying degrees of success. The life course perspective demands attention to aging and incorporates agency in the view that we construct our biographies through the decisions that we make and the paths that we take (Elder & Johnson, 2003; Heinz, 2001; Settersten, 2003; for a summary, see Connidis, 2009). Our lives follow multiple trajectories or pathways (Settersten, 2003) because of our involvement in various social institutions, including education, family, and work. Although the life course perspective highlights multiple levels of analysis, the ways in which constraints and opportunities are produced and their link to everyday life experience are not explicated (Marshall & Mueller, 2003). Consequently, scholars value how the life course framework can guide research and the interpretation of results but also note the need to incorporate other approaches to bolster its theoretical power (Elder & Johnson, 2003; George, 2003; Settersten, 2006). Although the life course perspective does not pay focused attention to structure, when combined with a feminist perspective, gender relations are revealed. Allen and Pickett (1987) highlight gender relations when they show how family obligations combined with the Great Depression to limit women’s options for marriage and motherhood. Yet these unmarried women were full partners in family relationships as daughters, sisters, and aunts. The feminist perspective’s usual focus on gender and the life course perspective’s limited attention to structure are balanced by the critical perspective’s attention to multiple-structured social relations. Central to developing a critical perspective is exploring how macrolevel factors, including the socially structured relations of gender, age, class, race, and ethnicity, are related

153

to individual decision making and subjective experience in various social domains (Baars, Dannefer, Phillipson, & Walker, 2006). This exploration means looking at relationships in the context in which they occur, namely, a society that favors some over others and social institutions in which such biases are embedded. Critical approaches to aging emphasize how structural inequalities shape everyday life and the unique sources of fulfilment in old age (Estes et al., 2003). Variation among the old on the basis of other structured social relations, however, creates variable circumstances among them, including in their family networks. Feminist and critical perspectives share a concern with developing better theory and encouraging change (Estes et al., 2003). Although societal- and institutional-level forces create a context of constraints and opportunities, they do not completely determine actions and outcomes at the individual level. Instead, even the most powerless make decisions and choices in the context of the options that are available to them. Thus, individuals are active agents in reproducing and changing both institutional arrangements and structured social relations, depending on the decisions made and actions taken and depending on how many act in a similar fashion (Katz, 2005). But structural constraints of traditional arrangements create a heavy burden. Reproducing existing ways is easier than changing them, in part because of a tendency not to question what we take for granted as the way things are and should be done. Similarly, when a critical approach is coupled with a life course perspective, both aging and age relations come to the fore of analysis. Thus, both feminist and critical perspectives draw attention to the variable structured social relations that constrain the circumstances in which life course decisions are made and pathways chosen. In her work on adaptation to aging, Hatch (2000) successfully combines a multilevel life course perspective with a feminist emphasis on socially constructed power relations of gender and age as embedded in social institutions and social interaction. Similarly, Connidis (2007) shows how inequality in social resources, which make different lifestyles possible, can be an obstacle to close ties among siblings. Even within the same family, siblings can experience great disparity in education, occupational status, skills, and knowledge. These differences may be muted when the siblings were interdependent during childhood and

154

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

when their parents did not differentiate among them on the basis of personal characteristics or gender. Against a backdrop of equality, siblings may minimize their socioeconomic differences in adulthood and focus instead on shared values and concerns. When parents highlight childhood differences, though, for example, by privileging boys relative to girls, it may be more difficult for sisters and brothers to transcend differential status achievement with emotionally close ties in adulthood. Adult sibling ties are also complicated when some siblings exceed their parents’ socioeconomic status but other siblings do not. In such cases, inequality both between and across generations may undermine close adult relationships. It may be easier to accommodate such differences when wealth (or lack thereof) results from the success of the sibling’s spouse or partner rather than the success of the sibling. In this way, early life experiences, life choices, and opportunities and constraints in the social structure combine to influence sibling ties. How can the broad frameworks of feminist perspectives, the life course framework, and the critical approach be applied to aging and family life? Only two conceptual frameworks grapple specifically with the intersection of aging and family relationships: the solidarity perspective, more recently expanded to the solidarity and conflict perspective, and the concept of ambivalence. In each case, a variety of writers have attempted to explicate the relationships of particular family members or generations and the workings of family relationships across time. Challenges to the implicit assumption of smooth functioning embedded in the solidarity model are partly met by considering conflict in relationships (Bengtson, Giarrusso, Mabry, & Silverstein, 2002). This evolution, however, does not link the structured social relations that are central to feminist and critical perspectives to the dynamics of family relationships over the life course, although more recent extensions by others interpret results in the context of gendered family relationships (e.g., see Van Gaalen & Dykstra, 2006). The concept of ambivalence (Connidis & McMullin, 2002a, 2002b; Luescher & Pillemer, 1998) links the mixed emotions we have about relationships to the ambivalent character of family ties that results from the contradictions and paradoxes of structured social relations. Thus, the concept makes explicit the link between the macrolevel of structured social relations and the

negotiation of family relationships and our feelings about them. Sociological ambivalence refers to the contradictions inherent in occupying positions in multiple structured social relations that simultaneously impinge on actors when meeting such competing responsibilities as paid work and parenthood (Connidis & McMullin, 2002a). Sociological ambivalence complements psychological ambivalence—that is, the mixed emotions that characterize family ties, which often stems from the experience of structural ambivalence. For example, ambivalence can be linked to gender differences in the perceived stress of caregiving that is a result of gendering which work is done by men and women and which emotions are appropriately expressed in which ways (Calasanti, 2006). Furthermore, there are differential costs to old women and men of socially structured relations. Incorporating a feminist perspective highlights the centrality of gender to the ambivalence of family ties. As noted, both the feminist perspective and the critical approach focus our attention on issues of power and inequality. Equating power and inequality with diversity, some might argue that this attention is well entrenched, at least as referenced by how much the term diversity peppers discussions of aging and family. In relation to aging, we are continually reminded that the old population is a diverse one. In relation to family, we are regularly encouraged to respect diverse family forms and the ways in which racial and class diversity influence family life. From both feminist perspectives and the critical approach, however, the call to attend to structured social relations requires going beyond an emphasis on diversity by making the issue of inequality explicit (Connidis, 2009). The intent behind using the term diversity is laudable: to avoid assuming that a particular set of experiences, notably those of White, middle-class, male adults, applies to everyone. Emphasizing diversity, however, and encouraging the celebration of difference run their own paradoxical risks when diversity is separated from inequality (Connidis, 2009; regarding age relations, see Arber, 2004). When we supplant the significance of growing economic inequality with a focus on celebrating difference, such as that of race, the inequalities of current social arrangements are protected from critical assessment (Michaels, 2006). Such a stance appeals to those with resources because the call to respect diversity

12. (Re)Visioning Gender, Age, and Aging in Families

does not require forfeiting money; it requires primarily that we be nice to one another. Michaels’s critique is well taken; we must use the term diversity more critically. Yet dichotomizing the issue, as Michaels does, so that one’s focus is either on diversity and, hence, racial (or gender, or age, or sexual) identity or on economic inequality is problematic. In our view, and consistent with feminist and critical approaches, we must focus on the crosscutting of economic inequality or class with other power relations, including those of age, race, and gender, and consider how economic inequality is systematically related to these other forms of inequality (Calasanti & Slevin, 2001; Collins, 1990; Connidis, 2009; McMullin, 2004). Respecting the differences between men and women, non-Whites and Whites, straight and gay people, or old and young people without addressing how those differences relate to unequal economic and social security fails to expose structured social relations and also fails to encourage social change. How can we make the link between diversity and inequality explicit? As we have noted, some feminists and critical theorists make power relations and inequality central to their perspective. This work is an important counter to our current overuse of the term diversity. In relation to gender, being explicit means going beyond arguing that there are multiple femininities and masculinities to specifying that particular femininities and masculinities are rewarded (i.e., they have greater social currency in terms of power and of accruing resources over time) and that, on balance, the ongoing vestiges of patriarchal society leave men with more resources than women. Similarly, age relations do not simply create differences among age groups; they create variations in resources too. In other words, the differences between men and women and between age groups include inequality on the social stage. At the same time, we cannot reduce differences rooted in race or gender or sexual orientation or age to class differences because the power relationships and diversity that they include exert their own force on family ties. For example, shared ethnicity and race are important grounds for political activism and, as our societies become more ethnically and racially diverse, their intersection with age and gender relations and with politics has significant implications for public policy

155

(Torres-Gil, 2005). Also, there is evidence of the potential political power of age groups in the success of The Grey Panther Movement in encouraging change to meet the interests of the old and in the turnout and influence of young voters during the Democratic primaries of 2008. As elections often demonstrate, interests tend to coalesce not around difference but around inequality—in access to jobs, to health care, to security in old age, to rights to marry. The crosscutting of age and gender relations points to several dimensions of inequality that merit additional attention.

INTERSECTIONS OF GENDER AND AGE RELATIONS The feminist call to pay attention to women is paralleled by gerontologists’ call to pay attention to old people. In both cases, the spotlight is on the plight of the underdogs in a power relation. Indeed, a critique of social gerontology’s treatment of old women is its tendency to foreground misery (Krekula, 2007). Over time, with the influence of feminist views, the attention paid to women was complemented by work that focused on the unique situation of men. This isolation of two parties to a relationship for independent study, however, fails to address the relationship itself. More recent feminist work emphasizes gender rather than the experience of either men or women and highlights multiple masculinities and femininities. A similar move is needed regarding age; a focus on the old outside the context of age relations fails to show the power relations that shape the experience of a particular age group (Calasanti & Slevin, 2006). The awareness of multiple realities that is spawned by feminist work thus extends to other power relations. In their study of extended family integration among Euro and Mexican Americans, Sarkisian, Gerena, and Gerstel (2007) highlight the intersections of gender, class, and ethnicity. They argue that failing to attend to gender by combining women and men in data analysis makes the intersection of ethnicity, gender, and class invisible, and leaves researchers unable to resolve the debate between two dominant theories of ethnicity and kin and superintegration and disintegration. By studying women and men separately, Sarkisian et al. show that gender and class are more important than culture in understanding aid to kin.

156

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

Their findings demonstrate that family integration is multidimensional: Mexican American women and men show greater proximity and more coresidence than Euro Americans but lower rates of financial aid. Among women, Mexican Americans are more likely than Euro Americans to provide household help and child care. The findings highlight the importance of an intersectional perspective on gender, class, and ethnicity in intergenerational kin relations. Similarly, the intersection of age and gender is highlighted in an analysis of romantic ties in later life. The prospects for intimacy in later life are limited by socially constructed barriers rooted in age. Connidis (2006) argues that we distance old people from young people—both in their present and in their past. We fail to see the distinct and diverse relationship histories that old people created or to remember that nonmarital sex was not uncommon among today’s old women and men. We see old people as incapable of forming close relationships, ignoring the diversity of their lives and viewing them as asexual beings. Instead, we should be cognizant that the likelihood of a long period in the last stage of the life course, in combination with a decreasing likelihood of remaining married to one’s first spouse, can help revision gender relations through a receptivity to alternate forms of intimacy. This receptivity is fostered as well by not having to attend to paid work and being free of much of the responsibility and social attention linked to younger ages. For example, cohabitation may lead to equality between women and men in old age, fostering as it does both women’s economic well-being and a less traditional division of labor (Coltrane, 2000; Connidis, 2006). It is useful to remember also that many old women who live alone do so as a choice rather than as victims of social inequality (Connidis, 2006). Gender and age relations also intersect in same-sex relationships (Connidis, 2003), an understudied relationship in which partners must contend also with the disadvantaged position of gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender adults in structured social relations of sexual orientation. Harrington Meyer, Wolf, and Himes (2006) highlight another important intersection between structured social relations and family, in this case the dramatic changes in marital status by race and ethnicity. The decline in marriage among African Americans forecasts significant declines in eligibility for spouse and

widow social security benefits among Black women. Together with Wilmoth, Harrington Meyer shows how social insurance policies maximize inequalities by age, gender, and social class, ignoring variability in and access to resources across these groups and privileging marital status—and also the size of the husband’s earnings—as the determinant of eligibility (Harrington Meyer & Wilmoth, 2006). Because marital status defines eligibility, women with at least a 10-year marriage and high-earning husbands will receive more than women who never marry, whose marriages do not last as long as a decade, or whose husbands struggle in the lowwage sector of the economy. The continued use of a qualifying marriage to determine eligibility for women is likely to be especially problematic in the future, given the declining rates of marriage as well as a significant racial gap in marriage rates, and is likely to perpetuate inequality by race and class in old age. This and other research by Harrington Meyer and her colleagues, integrating feminist and life course perspectives, convincingly demonstrates the effects of cumulative advantage/disadvantage over the life course. Research regarding the underpinnings of social security and public policy related to the welfare of older Americans demonstrates the shortcomings of assuming that traditional family relationships are in place. The intersection of gender, age, race, and class leaves some groups of middle-aged and old Americans, especially old Black women, particularly vulnerable when social policies rest on assumptions of stable marriages (Harrington Meyer et al., 2006); changing conditions mean that some groups of old persons, notably Blacks, women, Hispanics, and the unmarried (Wilmoth & Longino, 2006), will be even more reliant on public policy to fill the gaps left by changing family ties and economic shortfalls. Discussions of cumulative advantage and disadvantage that flow from a life course perspective remind us of the connections between later life experience and earlier life conditions (Dannefer, 2003; O’Rand, 2006).

CONCLUSIONS As we have discussed, a life course perspective encourages a long-range view of relationships that is pivotal to capturing family relationships over time. A critical perspective encourages an

12. (Re)Visioning Gender, Age, and Aging in Families

emphasis on a range of structured social relations, including age, gender, class, race, ethnicity, and sexual orientation, in which inequality is a defining feature. This focus on inequality highlights not merely different but also conflicting interests in maintaining or changing current arrangements. The concept of ambivalence links the interpersonal experience and negotiation of relationships to the contradictions created by structured social relations. The life course perspective, the critical approach, and the concept of ambivalence provide openings for furthering the feminist perspective and, at the same time, demand the contributions that a feminist perspective can make. The intersection of all these perspectives propels a dynamic theoretical framework that links multiple levels of analysis to the realities of family life over time. Elaborating on the connections of these perspectives, and of family ties and aging, draws on the strengths of each approach and area while also keeping in check the additive effects of shared weaknesses. For example, the potential magnification of a problem focus that could result from combining the areas of aging and family is countered by the feminist and critical perspectives’ focus on the larger context in which particular issues are defined as problems. The critique of family as currently constructed and of societal views of aging and the old is made possible by this bigger picture. In its absence, problems themselves are constructed within the current constructions of family and old age. In its presence, current practices of family and of old age are viewed in the context of gender, age, class, race, and ethnic relations. Although gender relations are included among the key structured social relations, they appear particularly vulnerable to minimization. Very few need to be convinced about the significance of class and race relations. But the relations of gender, age, and sexual orientation appear to be more subject to question, such as questioning whether making judgments of relative advantage is actually problematic (e.g., in favoring heterosexuality over its alternatives), whether there really is a power relation that needs be taken seriously (e.g., age relations), or whether what once was seen as a problematic case of inequality remains so (gender relations). The feminist perspective is both a reflection of and a contributor to the critical perspective. Why encourage feminist approaches rather than

157

assume that they can be covered in critical theories? A primary reason is the risk of discounting gender as a central set of structured social relations involving power differentials, which too often “lose” to class and race. The backsliding of advances made by women, gays and lesbians, and the old are evidence of the slippery slope that occurs when we assume that any set of power relations has been righted. A feminist perspective is critical to keeping gender relations in focus as an ongoing structured social relation. Assuming that the large number of aging baby boomers will assure continued improvements in gender relations, acceptance of alternative family forms and old age benefits is risky (Connidis, 2006). In the 1980s, Canadian sociologist McIrvin Abu-Laban (1981) noted, “Futurists too often assume unilinearity and irreversibility with respect to societal transformations, thereby disregarding the possible devolutionary changes which in fact abound in history” (p. 93). She identified two countertrends—the resurgence of fundamentalist and conservative religions and antifeminist backlash—as threats to the progress that began in the 1970s and voiced concern that these incipient countertrends would be particularly harmful to “future generations of older women” (McIrvin Abu-Laban, 1981, p. 96). We have since witnessed multiple examples of retrenchment, including the “family values” call for a more traditional gendered family life, and current negative responses to gay and lesbian rights, including losses in local ballots supporting same-sex marriage, the attempt at alignment of gay rights with the rise of secularism and the Democrats, and the erosion of progress in recognizing gay and lesbian couples that had been made in some states. Even the apparently safer gains of old citizens are threatened by the assumption of intergenerational equity rhetoric that the interests of the old are at the expense of the young, justifying withdrawal of support for the old. The intersection of feminist approaches with the life course framework, critical perspectives, and the concept of ambivalence (which includes central elements of both perspectives) moves the study of aging and families forward by fostering a broader view of family relationships over time, lifting the assumption of a monolithic ideal family form and encouraging change to enhance the lives of those who have not enjoyed relative

158

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

advantage. Yet linking theoretical thinking with research and practice remains a challenge. Much of the feminist work related to the cross section of aging and family ties is in the category of compelling arguments for taking a feminist perspective rather than its actual application. As we have noted, this is in part a reflection of the slow pace at which aging studies has incorporated a feminist or critical perspective in mainstream research. Nevertheless, given its advantage for highlighting social inequality and for championing social change, we are optimistic that feminist approaches used in conjunction with the life course perspective, critical theory, and ambivalence promise a better future for our own aging and for that of the generations of women—and men—who follow us.

REFERENCES Allen, K. R. (2005). Gay and lesbian elders. In M. L. Johnson (Ed.), The Cambridge handbook of age and ageing (pp. 482–489). New York: Cambridge University Press. Allen, K. R., & Pickett, R. S. (1987). Forgotten streams in the family life course: Utilization of qualitative retrospective interviews in the analysis of lifelong single women’s family careers. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 49, 517–526. Andersen, M. L. (2005). Thinking about women: A quarter century’s view. Gender & Society, 19, 437–455. Arber, S. (2004). Gender, marital status, and ageing: Linking material, health, and social resources. Journal of Aging Studies, 18, 91–108. Baars, J., Dannefer, D., Phillipson, C., & Walker, A. (2006). Introduction: Critical perspectives in social gerontology. In J. Baars, D. Dannefer, C. Phillipson, & A. Walker (Eds.) Aging, globalization and inequality: The new critical gerontology (pp. 1–14). Amityville, NY: Baywood. Bengtson, V., Giarrusso, R., Mabry, J. B., & Silverstein, M. (2002). Solidarity, conflict, and ambivalence: Complementary or competing perspectives on intergenerational relationships? Journal of Marriage and Family, 64, 568–576. Biggs, S. (2005). Beyond appearances: Perspectives on identity in later life and some implications for method. Journal of Gerontology: Social Sciences, 60, S118–S128. Brown, S. L., Bulanda, J. R., & Lee, G. R. (2005). The significance of nonmarital cohabitation: Marital status and mental health benefits among middle-aged and older adults. Journal of Gerontology: Social Sciences, 60, S21–S29. Calasanti, T. M. (2004). Feminist gerontology and old men. Journal of Gerontology: Social Sciences, 59, S305–S314. Calasanti, T. M. (2006). Gender and old age: Lessons from spousal care work. In T. M. Calasanti & K. F. Slevin (Eds.), Age matters: Realigning feminist thinking (pp. 269–294). New York: Routledge. Calasanti, T. M., & King, N. (2007). Taking “women’s work” “like a man”: Husbands experiences of care work. The Gerontologist, 47, 516–527. Calasanti, T. M., & Slevin, K. F. (2001). Gender, social inequalities, and aging. Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press. Calasanti, T. M., & Slevin, K. F. (2006). Introduction: Age matters. In T. M. Calasanti & K. F. Slevin (Eds.), Age matters: Realigning feminist thinking (pp. 1–17). New York: Routledge.

Collins, P. H. (1990). Black feminist thought: Knowledge, consciousness, and the politics of empowerment. New York: Routledge. Coltrane, S. (2000). Research on household labor: Modeling and measuring the social embeddedness of routine family work. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 1208–1233. Connidis, I. A. (2001). Family ties & aging. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Connidis, I. A. (2003). Bringing outsiders in: Gay and lesbian family ties over the life course. S. Arber, K. Davidson, & J. Ginn (Eds.), Gender and ageing: Changing roles and relationships (pp. 79–95). Philadelphia: Open University Press. Connidis, I. A. (2006). Intimate relationships: Learning from later life experience. In T. M. Calasanti & K. F. Slevin (Eds.), Age matters: Realigning feminist thinking (pp. 123–153). New York: Routledge. Connidis, I. A. (2007). Negotiating inequality among adult siblings: Two case studies. Journal of Marriage and Family, 69, 482–499. Connidis, I. A. (2009). Family ties & aging (2nd ed.). Los Angeles: Pine Forge Press. Connidis, I. A., & McMullin, J. A. (2002a). Sociological ambivalence and family ties: A critical perspective. Journal of Marriage and Family, 64, 558–567. Connidis, I. A., & McMullin, J. A. (2002b). Ambivalence, family ties, and doing sociology. Journal of Marriage and Family, 64, 594–601. Dannefer, D. (2003). Cumulative advantage/disadvantage and the life course: Cross fertilizing age and social science theory. Journal of Gerontology: Social Sciences, 58, S327–S337. de Jong Gierveld, J. (2004). Remarriage, unmarried cohabitation, living apart together: Partner relationships following bereavement or divorce. Journal of Marriage and Family, 66, 236–243. Di Leonardo, M. (1987). The female world of cards and holidays: Women, families, and the work of kinship. Signs, 12, 440–453. Elder, G., Jr., & Johnson, M. K. (2003). The life course and aging: Challenges, lessons, and new directions. In R. Settersten Jr. (Ed.), Invitation to the life course: Toward new understandings of later life (pp. 49–81). Amityville, NY: Baywood. Estes, C. L., Biggs, S., & Phillipson, C. (2003). Social theory, social policy and ageing: A critical introduction. Berkshire, UK: Open University Press. Friedan, B. (1993). The fountain of age. New York: Simon & Schuster. Garner, J. D. (1999). Feminism and feminist gerontology. Journal of Women & Aging, 11, 3–12. George, L. K. (2003). Life course research: Achievements and potential. In J. T. Mortimer & M. J. Shanahan (Eds.), Handbook of the life course (pp. 671–680). New York: Kluwer Academic. Gibson, D. (1996). Broken down by age and gender. Gender & Society, 4, 433–448. Grenier, A., & Hanley, J. (2007). Older women and “frailty”: Aged, gendered and embodied resistance. Current Sociology, 55, 211–228. Harrington Meyer, M., & Wilmoth, J. M. (2006). Changing demographics, stagnant social policies: An introduction. Research on Aging, 28, 265–268. Harrington Meyer, M., Wolf, D. A., & Himes, C. L. (2006). Declining eligibility for social security spouse and widow benefits in the United States? Research on Aging, 28, 240–260. Hatch, L. R. (2000). Beyond gender differences: Adaptation to aging in life course perspective. Amityville, NY: Baywood. Heaphy, B. (2007). Sexualities, gender and ageing: Resources and social change. Current Sociology, 55, 193–210. Heinz, W. R. (2001). Work and the life course: A cosmopolitan-local perspective. In V. W. Marshall, W. R. Heinz, H. Kruger, & A. Verma (Eds.), Restructuring work and the life course (pp. 3–22). Toronto, Ontario, Canada: University of Toronto Press. Katz, S. (2005). Cultural aging: Life course, life style, and senior worlds. Peterborough, Ontario, Canada: Broadview Press. Krekula, C. (2007). The intersection of age and gender: Reworking gender theory and social gerontology. Current Sociology, 55, 155–171.

12. (Re)Visioning Gender, Age, and Aging in Families Luescher, K., & Pillemer, K. (1998). Intergenerational ambivalence: A new approach to the study of parent-child relations in later life. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 60, 413–425. Marshall, B. L., & Katz, S. (2002). Forever functional: Sexual fitness and the ageing male body. Body & Society, 8, 43–70. Marshall, V. W., & Mueller, M. M. (2003). Theoretical roots of the life course perspective. In W. R. Heinz & V. W. Marshall (Eds.), Social dynamics of the life course (pp. 3–32). New York: Aldine de Gruyter. Martin, P. Y. (2004). Gender as a social institution. Social Forces, 82, 1249–1273. McGraw, L. A., & Walker, A. J. (2007). Meanings of sisterhood and developmental disability: Narratives from White nondisabled sisters. Journal of Family Issues, 28, 474–500. McIrvin Abu-Laban, S. (1981). Women and aging: A futurist perspective. Psychology of Women Quarterly, 6, 85–98. McMullin, J. (2004). Understanding social inequality: Intersections of class, age, gender, ethnicity, and race in Canada. Don Mills, Ontario, Canada: Oxford University Press. Michaels, W. B. (2006). The trouble with diversity: How we learned to love identity and ignore inequality. New York: Metropolitan Books. O’Rand, A. M. (2006). Stratification and the life course: Life course capital, life course risks, and social inequality. In R. H. Binstock & L. K. George (Eds.), Handbook of aging and the social sciences (6th ed., pp. 145–162). New York: Academic Press. Potts, A., Gavey, N., Grace, V. M., & Vares, T. (2003). The downside of Viagra: Women’s experiences and concerns. Sociology of Health & Illness, 25, 697–719. Pyke, K. D. (1996). Class-based masculinities: The interdependence, gender, class, and interpersonal power. Gender & Society, 10, 527–549. Reinharz, S. (1986). Friends or foes: Gerontological and feminist theory. Women’s Studies International Forum, 9, 503–514. Risman, B. J. (2004). Gender as a social structure: Theory wrestling with activism. Gender & Society, 18, 429–450. Sarkisian, N., Gerena, M., & Gerstel, N. (2007). Extended family integration among Euro and Mexican Americans: Ethnicity, gender, and class. Journal of Marriage and Family, 69, 40–54. Schmeeckle, M. (2007). Gender dynamics in stepfamilies: Adult stepchildren’s views. Journal of Marriage and Family, 69, 174–189.

159

Settersten, R. A., Jr. (2003). Propositions and controversies in lifecourse scholarship. In R. Settersten Jr. (Ed.), Invitation to the life course: Toward new understandings of later life (pp. 15–45). Amityville, NY: Baywood. Settersten, R. A., Jr. (2006). Aging and the life course. In R. H. Binstock & L. K. George (Eds.), Handbook of aging and the social sciences (pp. 3–19). Burlington, MA: Elsevier Academic Press. Smith, D. E. (1987). The everyday world as problematic: A feminist sociology. Boston: Northeastern University Press. Sprague, J. (2005). Feminist methodologies for critical researchers: Bridging differences. Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press. Sprecher, S., & Regan, P. C. (2000). Sexuality in relational context. In C. Hendrick & S. S. Hendrick (Eds.), Close relationships: A sourcebook (pp. 217–227). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Thompson, L., & Walker, A. J. (1989). Gender in families: Women and men in marriage, work, and parenthood. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 51, 845–871. Thorne, B. (1982). Feminist rethinking of the family: “An overview.” In B. Thorne (with M. Yalom) (Ed.), Rethinking the family: Some feminist questions (pp. 1–24). New York: Longman. Torres-Gil, F. M. (2005). Ageing and public policy in ethnically diverse societies. In M. L. Johnson (Ed.), The Cambridge handbook of age and ageing (pp. 670–681). Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Twigg, J. (2004). The body, gender, and age: Feminist insights in social gerontology. Journal of Aging Studies, 18, 59–73. Van Gaalen, R. L., & Dykstra. P. A. (2006). Solidarity and conflict between adult children and parents: A latent class analysis. Journal of Marriage and Family, 68, 947–960. Walker, A. J., Martin, S. S. K., & Jones, L. L. (1992). The benefits and costs of caregiving and care receiving for daughters and mothers. Journal of Gerontology: Social Sciences, 47, S130–S139. Walker, A. J., & Thompson, L. (1984). Feminism and family studies. Journal of Family Issues, 5, 545–570. Willson, A. E., Shuey, K. M., & Elder, G. H., Jr. (2003). Ambivalence in the relationship of adult children to aging parents and in-laws. Journal of Marriage and Family, 65, 1055–1072. Wilmoth, J. M., & Longino, C. F., Jr. (2006). Demographic trends that will shape U.S. policy in the twenty-first century. Research on Aging, 28, 269–288.

13 EXAMINING AFRICAN AMERICAN FEMALE ADOLESCENT SEXUALITY WITHIN MAINSTREAM HIP HOP CULTURE USING A WOMANIST-ECOLOGICAL MODEL OF HUMAN DEVELOPMENT D IONNE P. S TEPHENS L AYLI D. P HILLIPS A PRIL L. F EW

T

here is a growing body of research examining the influence of Hip Hop culture on African American female adolescents’ sexual attitudes and behavioral outcomes. There is a need, however, to examine these phenomena systemically. We argue that social science research examining African American adolescent experiences has used theories that have been critiqued as problematic. Deviance and negative developmental outcomes historically have been the dominant foci of studies on Black family life (Bell-Scott, 1982; Few, Stephens, & RouseArnett, 2003; McLoyd, 1998; Stephens, 2000). Social science researchers often continue to represent African American experiences through 160

comparative quantitative data collected from predominantly White populations. Thus, the experiences of African Americans are defined in terms of difference from whiteness (Jones, 1991). As a result, many social science researchers have reinforced sexual stereotypes by failing to accurately differentiate African American adolescent sexuality identification processes from those of Whites when they focus solely on behavioral outcomes. Because of this practice, researchers either ignore or dismiss meaningful conceptual distinctions across race and gender in the interpretation of their data (Benda & Corwyn, 1998). In keeping with the theme of this section of the Handbook, “(Re)Visioning ‘The Family,’” we

13. Examining African American Female Adolescent Sexuality

recognize that the study of African American adolescent sexuality requires a theoretical framework that facilitates multilayered intersectional analysis. We propose an integration of Bronfenbrenner’s ecological theory and womanist theory to help us uncover psychological and cultural nuances in the investigation of African American female adolescent sexuality, largely influenced by sexual scripts found in Hip Hop culture (Stephens & Phillips, 2003). Because Hip Hop exists at the intersection of African American culture in all its richness and U.S. mainstream commercialism vis-à-vis the entertainment industry, it constitutes a uniquely precarious site for the unfolding of young women’s sense of self and, in particular, sexual identity. We believe that this integration of ecological and womanist frameworks is a useful contribution to the growing body of research which indicates that multiple Hip Hop cultural contexts do influence various sexual risk-taking beliefs and behaviors among and about African American adolescents and emerging adults (Stephens & Few, 2007a, 2007b; Stephens & Phillips, 2005; Wingood, DiClemente, Bernhardt, et al., 2003; Wingood, DiClemente, Harrington, et al., 2001). This knowledge, in turn, is particularly important given that this population is at the highest risk across their age and gender cohort for the majority of negative sexual health outcomes, including unplanned pregnancy, sexually transmitted disease/infection acquisition (particularly HIV/AIDS), nonvoluntary intercourse, and early sexual onset (Bachanas et al., 2002; Centers for Disease Control [CDC], 2006). Examining sexuality through the multiple environments that shape Hip Hop cultural experiences is useful in identifying this population’s sexual identity socialization processes. Integrating the frameworks of Bronfenbrenner’s ecological model and womanism is a means of revisiting multiple levels in the lives of those who look through a Hip Hop cultural lens when making sexual health decisions. According to Bronfenbrenner’s (1979) ecosystemic perspective, individuals’ perceptions and beliefs of their reality do not develop in a vacuum, but are products of the larger society. Essentially, Bronfenbrenner’s ecological model allows scholars to use a wide lens in examining variables of African American female adolescent sexuality socialization and development by being inclusive of both psychological characteristics and

161

various Hip Hop cultural environmental factors. Womanism, a racial/ethnic-based theory that places African American women at the center of analysis, allows researchers to explore African American women’s unique socioculturalspiritual standpoint (Collins, 2000). Womanism, which represents a culturally embedded prowoman sensibility that reflects, but is not reducible to, both African diarchic notions of power sharing and Western feminist ideals of women’s liberation and power, is a perspective explicitly embraced and tacitly used by many African American women. From a womanist perspective, African American women pursue their own empowerment (e.g., agency) as women and maintain strong interpersonal and communal relations with other women, men, and children simultaneously. Because womanism is an outgrowth of African American women’s culture and history, it is inseparable from the African American experience, including Hip Hop culture. Indeed, Hip Hop feminism/ womanism is an emerging theoretical perspective with its own distinctive features (Phillips, 2006; Phillips, Reddick-Morgan, & Stephens, 2005). Using a womanist perspective, researchers are able to interpret the ecosystem of African American female adolescents from a nuanced, nondeficit view. As we focus on African American female adolescent sexuality in this chapter, we acknowledge that one feature of Hip Hop culture is its emphasis on sexuality, particularly women’s sexuality. In this chapter, we first provide a brief overview of Bronfenbrenner’s ecological model and womanist theory as it pertains to the study of African American female adolescent sexuality. Next, we present how we understand Bronfenbrenner’s ecological model from a womanist perspective to investigate African American female adolescent sexuality. Finally, we suggest possible practical applications of this integrated approach.

BRONFENBRENNER’S ECOLOGICAL MODEL APPROACH Bronfenbrenner’s ecological model is particularly relevant for examining African American female adolescent sexuality, as it is inclusive of individual, interpersonal, and broader contextual factors. A tenet of the ecosystemic perspective is that

162

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

individuals’ perceptions and beliefs of their reality do not develop in a vacuum, but are products of the larger ecology (Bronfenbrenner, 1979, 1986). Behavior is viewed as the result of interplay between the psychological characteristics of the person and of a specific environment (Bronfenbrenner). One cannot be defined without reference to the other. Thus, we cannot simply look at African American female adolescents’ sexual health issues or decision-making processes as isolated individual acts; they must be assessed in relation to the world around them. Using Bronfenbrenner’s ecological approach, family researchers gather all relevant information on a person’s life, encouraging an examination of interactions with others and the environment rather than individual behaviors. Researchers must consider familial, immediate community, societal, generational, and sociobiological levels of influence. Bronfenbrenner identified five specific environments through which to analyze sources of influence: (a) chronosystem, (b) macrosystem, (c) exosystem, (d) mesosystem, and (e) microsystem. An individual’s socialization processes are determined by what she experiences in these settings.

WOMANIST THEORETICAL APPROACH The term womanist was coined in 1979 by novelist Alice Walker, who originally defined a womanist as “a feminist, only more common.” In 1983, in her now famous book In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens: Womanist Prose, she presented a dictionary-style definition of womanist that began with the straightforward assertion that a womanist is “a black feminist or feminist of color” and ended with the enigmatic statement, “Womanist is to feminist as purple is to lavender” (p. xii). From the mid-1980s forward, women of color from a host of disciplines adopted the term and used it to represent an autonomous, women-of-color theoretical, political, and spiritual orientation that differed in significant ways from feminism yet was not wholly incompatible with it (Phillips, 2006). Indeed, womanism proved to be a meeting ground for African American women who identified with feminism as well as those who actively rejected it. Phillips (2006) identifies five overarching core characteristics of womanism: (a) antioppressionist

(i.e., simultaneously rejecting of all forms of oppression, named and unnamed, including but not limited to racism, sexism, classism, and other “isms”), (b) vernacular (i.e., grassroots in orientation, with street-level sensibilities), (c) nonideological (i.e., open and dialogic in a way that rejects firm party lines, upholds common values, and creates an inclusive politics), (d) communitarian (i.e., concerned with the wellness of the whole group, is perceived at successive levels ranging from the family to networks of like women and other identity-based groups and, ultimately, all humanity), and (e) spiritualized (i.e., affirming the reality and importance of an invisible spiritual dimension— distinct from religion per se—and its role in human life and affairs). Womanism is a viable framework to use in any study focusing on the variables of race and gender because womanism affirms the nonseparability of identities and oppressions in the lived experience of women of color. While race, gender, class, sexuality, and other vectors of difference can be conceptually distinguished by researchers, each individual woman experiences these holistically as a dimension of her whole, integrated being. Thus, womanism provides language and perspectives that more closely approximate African American women’s daily social reality and subjective, intrapsychic experience. When womanism is combined with an ecological perspective, an illuminating window into the experiences of African American women and adolescents is opened. The womanist perspective, with its ability to encompass both endogenous and exogenous dimensions of African American women’s self-construction, is well-suited to the type of complex analysis that the ecological model demands. In summary, womanism provides a culturally based, culturally sensitive, and gender-specific filter to integrate into the ecological framework, enhancing its explanatory power.

ECOLOGICAL SYSTEMS INTERPRETED FROM A WOMANIST LENS We assert that African American female adolescent sexual socialization in the context of mainstream Hip Hop culture takes place at multiple locations. Furthermore, it is suggested that the degree of influence of these locations may differ as a function of various sources of influence.

13. Examining African American Female Adolescent Sexuality

Our integration of womanist and ecological theories allows us to examine Hip Hop culture’s influence on the interaction of structures within a layer as well as interactions of structures between layers, thus gaining knowledge about the complexity of African American female adolescent sexual socialization processes (Darling, 2007). Chronosystemic Analysis To understand the sociohistorical contexts of mainstream Hip Hop culture, it would be useful to begin by considering the chronosystem. This outermost system refers to the sociohistorical conditions of African American women and adolescents in mainstream Hip Hop. This level draws on historical and current events as important life experience influences (Darling, 2007). Time is not the unit of measurement used in the chronosystem. Rather, this system involves the chronological ordering of significant environmental events and transitions over the life course. When considering the role of mainstream Hip Hop culture within a chronosystem framework, we explore the internal and external factors that create, continuously develop, and maintain the parameters of gender relations and a unique worldview over time. Hip Hop began as an African American urban-based culture of creativity and expression that specifically expressed adolescents’ concerns, beliefs, and worldviews. Young African American and Puerto Rican men used Hip Hop as a means of expressing their anger and frustration within a society that viewed them as worthless. While the most recognized genre of the culture is the music, Hip Hop encompasses a deeper understanding of cultural expressions, such as body language (Frith, 1996), language usage (Smitherman, 1997), clothing styles (Kim, 2001), value and belief systems (Baker, 1992), racial-ethnic and gender identity (Phillips et al., 2005; Rose, 1994; Stephens & Phillips, 2005), and general behavioral expectations (Stephens & Few, 2007a, 2007b; Stephens & Phillips, 2003). A music genre that began as a reflection of African American youth’s experiences in the early 1970s has since gone through various phases vis-à-vis the focus of messages being disseminated, the types of individuals controlling the industry, and the racial/ethnic/class makeup of the culture’s consumers (Phillips et al., 2005).

163

The role of women in Hip Hop as artists, consumers, and industry operatives has evolved over the course of time. Since it began, women have participated in Hip Hop culture as MCs, DJs, dancers, and taggers (i.e., graffiti artists; Perkins, 1996; Phillips et al., 2005; Rose, 1994); their influence and visibility has consistently remained below that of their male counterparts. In the early days of Hip Hop, gender roles within Hip Hop were not as clearly delineated. During the mid-1970s, the “dis” tradition, which evolved from the practice of the dozens, emerged, in which female and male artists began to “talk back” at one another competitively. Also, in the mid- to late 1980s, a distinctly womanist/ feminist trend developed as female artists with women’s empowerment messages—particularly around sexuality and resistance to violence—rose to popularity (Phillips et al., 2005). Artists such as Salt-n-Pepa, Queen Latifah, and Yo-Yo represented the first generation of this trend; a second, less hard-edged generation emerged in the mid1990s, including artists such as Lauryn Hill, Missy Elliot, and Eve. Collectively, these artists, who spoke directly to young women about the daily challenges of sexism—although this academic language was rarely used—set the tone for women’s empowerment subtext in Hip Hop. At the same time, these messages were intermingled with increasingly misogynistic themes expressed by mainstream male artists. Misogynist themes were popularized in gangsta rap, which surfaced in the early 1990s, and Dirty South rap, which is closely associated with Southern strip club culture, during the late 1990s. These latter trends, fueled by music industry promotion, managed to virtually eclipse the women’s empowerment message purveyed by prowoman female artists (Keyes, 2000; Phillips et al., 2005). Instead, the music industry promoted women artists who emphasized their sexuality and sexual availability to men, primarily through the ascent of the “video ho” archetype (Edlund, 2004; Stephens & Phillips, 2003). While isolated female artists such as India Arie still carry a prowoman message, this music is no longer part of the mainstream Hip Hop that reaches the youngest Hip Hop consumers. Thus, while a Hip Hop–identified female adolescent’s sexual sense of self may have been formed by self-respect and safer-sex discourses during the 1980s and 1990s, it is much more likely that the comparable influences today would be strip club culture and the pornography industry.

164

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

Womanism is germane to thinking about the evolution of Hip Hop culture vis-à-vis women and its messages to its female consumers in relation to sexual scripts and sexual identity. Women of the Hip Hop generation—a generation now broad enough to encompass both mothers and daughters and in some case granddaughters— are concerned with both self-expression as women and the pursuit and maintenance of relationships, whether intimate or communal. In addition, Hip Hop–identified women are concerned with political analysis but are averse to social change strategies that pit women against men or that negate the importance of spirituality (Phillips, 2006). Thus, to fully understand Hip Hop–identified women and adolescents, a womanist perspective is necessary. As it became a highly profitable culture, Hip Hop was quickly appropriated and depoliticized within the individualistic business climate of the 1980s to become a booming mainstream music business. Today’s mainstream Hip Hop culture has continued on this path of materialism; it has been aptly referred to as the Bling Bling period. Bling-Bling, which is sometimes simply referred to as “Bling,” is a Hip Hop slang term that refers to expensive paraphernalia such as jewelry and flashy adornment. It also refers to an entire lifestyle of excess spending and flamboyance through ostentatious displays of material wealth (Oh, 2005; Westbrook & Westbrook, 2002). Success is measured by material acquisition, including acquisition of multiple women. Clearly, with this greater commercialization of mainstreaming Hip Hop culture, there has been an increase in the sexualization of African American women, as made evident through the connection between women and material goods. Within this context, African American women’s value is male defined such that her greatest commodity is her sexuality and body (Collins, 2005; Morgan, 2002; Stephens & Phillips, 2003). This hypersexualization has been used to describe behavior and attitudes unique to African American women throughout history (Collins, 1994; Stephens & Phillips, 2003). The hypersexualization of African American female bodies has been further normalized as a fixed identity trait within academic and popular culture spaces exploring African American women’s sexual health experiences. It should come as no surprise that heterosexuality and heteronormativity (Oswald, Blume, & Marks, 2005) within the

context of African American men’s desires have shaped mainstream Hip Hop’s presentation of appropriate women’s sexual behaviors. It was only after the rising prominence of racial-ethnic social science scholars, feminists, and womanists that these historical stereotypes of African American women as sexual conquerors and predators of men were challenged (Collins, 1994; Stephens & Phillips, 2003). Macrosystemic Analysis The macrosystem is composed of cultural values, customs, and laws. Within the macrosystem, researchers interpret how cultural values and laws justify or explain the behaviors of the population being studied and the population’s interactions with the overarching institutional structures that reflect a society’s cultural values (Bubolz & Sontag, 1993). For instance, researchers can examine institutional decisions regarding funding or the basic existence of sexuality programs that target African American female adolescents. From these decisions, messages are transmitted to a targeted population to serve as guidelines for defining and organizing the institutional life of the society, including overarching patterns of culture, politics, and economy. As outlined above, mainstream Hip Hop culture has continued on this path of sexual materialism that has led to the hypersexualization of women for economic gain. Toward this end, lyrics, videos portrayals, and general cultural values have presented African American women as sexually lascivious and available (Andsager & Roe, 2004; Morgan, 2002; Smart Young, 2002; Stephens & Phillips, 2003). Because of the power of men within Hip Hop as artists, industry operatives, and consumers, their ability to influence sexual scripts for women in ways that reflect patriarchal, exploitative, or simply hedonistic desires is considerable. Without a comparable Hip Hop musical and visual corpus reflecting women’s sexual desires and aspirations, African American female adolescents are forced to negotiate a form of male peer pressure, reified in the symbolic domain, as pertains to their sexual identity development. It is important to note, however, that these presentations of African American womanhood as highly sexualized are not new; historical portrayals of African American womanhood have

13. Examining African American Female Adolescent Sexuality

always centered on this framework as it benefited male and European cultural frameworks (Collins, 2000; Morton, 1991). For example, Women’s Studies and African American Studies feminist and womanist scholars have produced iconographic data that have led to the identification of the promiscuous Jezebel, the asexual Mammy, the emasculating Matriarch, the disagreeable Sapphire, and the breeding Welfare Mother as the foundational images of African American womanhood (see Collins, 2000; Morton, 1991). hooks (1992) noted that these images are part of the media landscape: Just as nineteenth-century representations of Black female bodies were constructed to emphasize that these bodies were expendable, contemporary images (even those created in Black cultural production) give a similar message. (p. 127)

Remnants of the Jezebel, Mammy, Welfare Mother, and Matriarch images remain, as exemplified by the similar, yet more sexually explicit sexual scripts of the Diva, the Gold Digger, the Freak, the Dyke, the Gangster Bitch, the Sister Savior, the Earth Mother, and the Baby Mama (Stephens & Phillips, 2003). These eight scripts are widely accepted frameworks used to illustrate beliefs about African American female adolescent sexuality within the African American–based, heterosexual, male-dominated youth culture of mainstream Hip Hop (Nasheed, 2003; Stephens & Few, 2007a; Stephens, Few, & Neeves, 2008; Stokes, 2007). Stephens and Phillips (2003) outline the focus of each script. The Diva script projects a woman who has sex to enhance her social status, even though she may already be financially independent and middle class or above. The Gold Digger script, particularly when cues of economic disadvantage are included, illustrates a woman who intentionally has sex for money or material goods. When an African American woman is portrayed as desiring and engaging in “wild and kinky” sex with a multitude of partners for her own gratification, the Freak script is being enacted. The Dyke script projects a selfsufficient and “hard” woman who has rejected sex with men and may have adopted masculine postures. The script of the Gangster Bitch shows a “street tough” woman who has sex to demonstrate solidarity with or to help her man; she may also be involved in gangs or gang culture.

165

The Sister Savior script is that of a pious woman who rejects all but marital, procreative sex for religious reasons. In contrast, the Earth Mother script portrays a woman who has sex for spiritual or nationalistic reasons to show her support for “the race” or “the nation” (Stephens & Phillips, 2003). Finally, a woman who has had a child by a man but is no longer his partner is projected as the Baby Mama script; she has sex to maintain a financial or emotional connection with the man through the child. (For a detailed discussion of each of these scripts see Stephens & Phillips, 2003.) These representations go beyond providing a mental picture as they contribute to sexual identification processes and meanings of African American female adolescent sexuality in the context of Hip Hop culture (Stephens & Few, 2007a, 2007b; Stokes, 2007). It is important to acknowledge that these images are not simply pictorials, but this imagery promotes sexual scripts that delineate the progression of sexual behaviors. We suggest that it is more accurate to discuss these representations as sexual scripts, as sexuality is “socially scripted” in that it is a “part” which is learned and acted out within a social context, and different social contexts have different social scripts (Jackson, 1996). How an individual African American female adolescent thinks about herself, how she relates to others, and how others think about and relate to her are based on symbolic meanings that have been associated with sexuality. For African American female adolescents, the sexual scripts available to them in mainstream Hip Hop culture rely on negative stereotypes that have changed little over the past century (Collins, 2000; Staples, 1994; Stephens & Phillips, 2003, Wyatt, 1997). It is important for family researchers to examine the influence of these scripts on sexual behavioral outcomes at this macrosystemic level, as activating a stereotype usually leads people to behave in stereotypeconsistent ways (Wheeler & Petty, 2001). Exosystemic Analysis Elements of the exosystem represent external institutions in which African American female adolescents are not direct participants but are affected by decisions and policies of these external forces (Bubolz & Sontag, 1993). This would include institutions such as the mass media, legal settings, social services, educational institutions,

166

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

health systems, governmental agencies, and other political venues. While some would argue that African American female adolescents do have the opportunity to influence these bodies, in reality the African American community has little control in these arenas. The relationship between the media and this population exemplifies this lack of bidirectional influence. African American female adolescents consume media daily and contribute to its existence through the purchasing of the cultural goods it purveys (Botta, 2000; Sherman & Dominick, 1986; Stephens & Phillips, 2003). African American female adolescents, however, are not part of the power structure that oversees the production process or shapes mainstream Hip Hop culture. Rather, these young women influence Hip Hop culture and related media indirectly as objects of desire by the adult men who run the industry as well as artists who produce its chief content (Morgan, 2002; Pegram, 2007; Roberts & Ulen, 2000; Sharpley-Whiting, 2007; Stephens & Few, 2003). A womanist perspective allows us to examine critically the ways in which African American adolescent women simultaneously resist, reshape, and reproduce images of themselves that have been repackaged for their consumption and, ostensibly, to influence their real life behavior and attitudes. In terms of Hip Hop–related media, one feature that demonstrates womanist influence is the presence of those female rappers who “represent for the women” and the ways in which young women process women-oriented Hip Hop at street level (Phillips, 2006; Phillips et al., 2005; Pough, 2004; Pough, Richardson, Durham, & Raimist, 2007). Messages offered through the mass media are important tools for exploring exosystemic constructs, as they serve to both emulate and reproduce a range of racialized and gendered sexual stereotypes. For example, researchers have found that mainstream Hip Hop cultural consumption takes place primarily through television (Andsager & Roe, 2004; Greenberg & Hofschire, 2000; Smith & Boyson, 2002) and online (Stokes, 2007) viewing of music videos. The images and sexual meanings displayed through these visual presentations cannot be ignored by African American female adolescents. Content analyses of music videos have found that they contain on average 93 sexual situations in an hour of programming, including 11 scenes featuring intercourse or oral sex

(Lichter, 2000). Furthermore, these situations are often framed through racist and sexist perspectives (Andsager & Roe, 2004; Greenberg & Hofschire, 2000; Smith & Boyson, 2002; Stephens & Phillips, 2003). On a number of occasions, industry executives and artists have stated that these videos should not be critiqued but considered as simple entertainment (e.g., Hurt, 2006; Palca, 2005; Singh, 2007). On a basic level, music videos are a vehicle to promote particular artists and songs. Others also within the Hip Hop industry have alternatively suggested that these videos merely reflect the content of the music, in turn putatively reflecting the beliefs, attitudes, and behaviors of those consuming them (Smart Young, 2002). Unfortunately, traditional ideas about race, gender, and sexuality often continue to shape ideas about the sexuality of African American women (and female adolescents). For example, women in mainstream Hip Hop videos are depicted as simultaneously having great sexual desires and quenching these sexual needs by being degraded for male pleasure (Brown, 2000; Morgan, 2002; Roberts, 1996). In these videos, women are not individuals; rather, they are projected as characters and a mass of body parts for males’ consumption. It is common in videos to have multiple women of color vying for one man’s attention through the use of highly sexualized verbal and nonverbal cues, including clothing, eye contact, sexualized dance, and actual conflicts with other women (Morgan, 2002; Smart Young, 2002; Stephens & Phillips, 2003). Thus, African American adolescents are being socialized as to what types of interactions with men and other women are acceptable and/or desired. Mainstream Hip Hop music videos today also often have X-rated versions aired nightly on BET’s top-rated program, Uncut. What is only alluded to in the mainstream versions of Hip Hop music videos is clearly stated in these unconcealed visual expressions of male desire (Stephens & Few, 2007a, 2007b). Hip Hop has evolved into a popular genre of pornography. Uncensored, sexually explicit videos by Eminem, Dr. Dre, Jay-Z, Shaggy, Jadakiss, and others can be purchased via DVD compilations such as Hardware: Hip Hop. The Playboy Channel has hopped on board with a Hip Hop–themed series called Buckwild, featuring segments titled “Sex Tip of the Day,” “That’s Ass,” and “Eye Candy.” Playboy has also entered

13. Examining African American Female Adolescent Sexuality

a production deal to present uncensored Hip Hop music videos to customers. Furthermore, specific women featured in mainstream Hip Hop music videos can also often be viewed at one’s leisure in sexually explicit DVD sets such as the Hip Hop Honeys volumes. This foundational program has spawned dozens of male Hip Hop artists who host porn DVDs for their music fans; some include Master P (Master P Ice Cream Party Series), Lil’ Jon (American Sex Series), and Ice T (Pimp’n 101). Snoop Dogg was awarded two awards for his Snoop Dogg’s Doggy Style collection at the 2002 Adult Video News Awards, the Oscars of the pornography industry (Adams, 2002). His follow-up release, Snoop Dogg’s Hustlaz: Diary of a Pimp, sold more copies than any other adult video release of 2003 (Edlund, 2004). Several studies have found that the more African American adolescents watch sexualized images in mainstream Hip Hop music videos, the more likely they are to endorse and engage in sexually risky behaviors (Brown et al., 2006; Brown, Halpern, & L’Engle, 2005; Wingood, DiClemente, Bernhardt, et al., 2003; Wingood, DiClemente, Harrington, et al., 2001). Brown et al. (2005) also found that early-maturing African American female adolescents reported more interest than late-maturing African American female adolescents in viewing sexual contact and in listening to sexual content in music. Early maturers were also more likely to interpret the messages they saw in the media as approving of teens having sexual intercourse (Brown et al., 2005). Stephens and Few (2007a, 2007b) found that African American adolescents not only recognized stereotypical sexual scripts in mainstream Hip Hop videos but saw them as accurate portrayals of real life behavioral guidelines for their peers. The results showed that these adolescents used sexual scripts from Hip Hop culture to predict behaviors of their peers and potential partners (Stephens & Few). These beliefs, research shows, inform African American female adolescents’ decision-making processes, translating into behavioral outcomes. Wingood, DiClemente, Harrington, et al. (2001) found that African American female adolescents who viewed films with high levels of African American sexual content were approximately twice as likely to have multiple sex partners, to have more frequent sex, not to use contraception during last intercourse, and to have a strong

167

desire to conceive. There was also some association between watching images with excessive sexual content and increased likelihood of having negative attitudes toward condom use and testing positive for chlamydia (Wingood, DiClemente, Harrington, et al.). In a related study, African American female adolescents who had greater exposure to Hip Hop videos were twice as likely to have had multiple sexual partners and 1.5 times more likely to report a sexually transmitted disease (Wingood, DiClemente, Bernhardt, et al., 2003). Stephens and Few (2007b) found that adolescent males and females felt that women who enacted highly sexualized scripts from Hip Hop culture were at fault if they were the victims of rape. Male adolescents in this same study also stated that they were less likely to use condoms with women who presented themselves as one of the “good girl” sexual scripts, such as a Diva or Sister Savior. In contrast, the men believed that women who reflected highly sexualized scripts from Hip Hop culture (e.g., Freak or Gold Digger) necessitated condom use and should only be used for short-term pleasure and not a relationship (Stephens & Few, 2007b). These findings serve to reinforce the broad-reaching impact of mainstream Hip Hop messages disseminated at the exosystem level in that Hip Hop sexualized messaging has influence on African American female adolescents’ sexual socialization processes. Mesosystemic Analysis The next level at which it is useful to examine the development of African American female adolescents’ sexual health development in mainstream Hip Hop culture is the mesosystem. The mesosystem, as defined by Bronfenbrenner (1979), is “a set of interrelations between two or more settings in which the developing person actively participates” (p. 25). The sites of importance at this level are influential community institutions that have a role in African American female adolescents’ socialization processes. These can include places such as hair salons, churches, community health clinics, nightclubs, or local small spaces. These places are economic and political forces in larger society and have a direct relationship with individual African American female adolescents. These places serve as connectors between microsystem and macrosystem forces, creating a unique cultural

168

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

space for African American female adolescents. One important site to include in one’s analysis is the Hip Hop nightclub. As a social space that centers and celebrates this culture, it is a salient context through which to examine the ways in which African American female adolescents’ sexuality is influenced and expressed. Hip Hop nightclubs are defined spaces for consumers and those embracing the culture to gather. In many communities, they are one of the few places where fans of Hip Hop can meet as a group. Because these fans come from all sectors of society, including different neighborhoods, work environments, and educational and income levels, the nightclub functions as a mesosytem. The significance of nightclubs as a Hip Hop mesosystem is highlighted by their presence in music videos; it is common for Hip Hop artists to use nightclubs as backdrops for these media presentations (Steffans, 2005; Wilson, 2007). In addition, nightclubs serve as the sites for up-and-coming artists to perform and connect with others in local Hip Hop communities (Cunningham, 2008; Hamilton, 2007; Hutchinson, 1999; Muñoz-Laboy, Weinstein, & Parker, 2007; Wilson, 2007). Beyond being a social space, nightclubs serve as a site for meeting intimate partners and developing friendships. There is a small body of research examining this phenomenon. Hutchinson (1999) conducted an ethnographic study to explore male-female relationships in a nightclub setting. Within this space, there were hierarchies reflecting Hip Hop cultural scripts for both men and women. Male-female interactions were based on values and scripts presented in Hip Hop songs and music videos. For example, in Hutchinson’s study, participants ranked drug dealers at the top, and they were ranked according to their financial status. Participants ranked women according to their association with the various males and sexual expression. Women were to be sexy but not too sexual, or they would be given a negative reputation. As found in prior research on mainstream Hip Hop sexual scripting (Stephens & Few, 2007a, 2007b; Stephens & Phillips, 2003), good girls and marriageable partners were distinguished from bad girls/sexual partners according to sexual expression. Muñoz-Laboy et al. (2007) also found that gender dynamics in nightclubs were integral to understanding attendees’ sexual experiences. These researchers argue that Hip Hop club

scenes represent a context where (a) young men’s masculinities are contested by the social environment, (b) women challenge hypermasculine privilege, and (c) young people can set the stage for what happens next in their sexual and emotional interactions. They found that individuals expressed themselves using Hip Hop cultural cues yet were able to define for themselves what it meant to be a sexual male or female. For example, even during the highly sexualized form of dance known as grinding, in which bodies rub against each other, the women were consistently vigilant about maintaining control over their bodies and space on the dance floor. Muñoz-Laboy et al. (2008) explored how contextual factors of the mainstream Hip Hop scene may be associated with young adult African American and Latino males’ condom use and condom use self-efficacy. Although a self-identified affiliation with Hip Hop culture was not statistically associated with condom use self-efficacy, attending Hip Hop nightclubs did affect behavioral outcomes. The researchers found that the more often a man went to a Hip Hop nightclub, the lower the probability that he used condoms during intercourse (MuñozLaboy et al.). However, the researchers noted that having sexual intercourse within a context that supports risky sexual behaviors is likely to be the major reason for limited condom use. Thus, as a mesosystemic space, the nightclub serves to reinforce sexual behaviors and attitudes about African American womanhood celebrated in portrayals of mainstream Hip Hop culture. We find in the womanist literature on young African American women’s engagement with Hip Hop nightlife that the womanist mindset— which simultaneously identifies with and resists certain aspects of women’s sexualization and normative gender roles—both allows young women to use the nightclub and similar venues as a site for the pursuit of sexual liberation and self-validation and presents challenges for the navigation of sexual and emotional risk (Morgan, 1999; Sharpley-Whiting, 2007). What makes womanism a compelling perspective for viewing the mesosystem through the eyes of an adolescent African American female is that it neither oversimplifies the risks and rewards of her multilayered social context nor idealizes her participation in them. It forces researchers to understand that, even among adolescents, as

13. Examining African American Female Adolescent Sexuality

among adults, some risks are consciously chosen while others are artfully avoided. Microsystemic Analysis The immediate social settings in which African American female adolescents are involved are referred to as the microsystem. The microsystem is the layer closest to the individual and contains the structures with which she or he has direct contact. Within this system, the focus is on face-to-face interaction and relationships, particularly among family members, intimate partners, and peer groups (Brown, Mounts, Lamborn, & Steinberg, 1993; Stephens, 2000). Bronfenbrenner’s ecological model emphasizes the role of family and primary relationships when explaining human behavior (Darling, 2007). These close-knit relationships carry out physical and psychosocial functions for their members, for themselves collectively, and for the common good of society. Furthermore, close relationships are integral to the establishment of beliefs, values, and behaviors (Darling). These are not merely reactive interactions; rather, these relationships have impact bidirectionally. For example, an African American female adolescent’s parents influence her beliefs and behavior just as she influences the behavior and beliefs of the parent. Termed bidirectional influences, ecological approaches demonstrate that these relationships shape how African American female adolescents give meaning to behaviors and messages at all levels of environment. Prior research suggests that the microsystem’s bidirectional influences are strongest and have the greatest impact on behavioral outcomes, particularly as they relate to sexual socialization (Darling). In this subsection, we specifically present parents and peers as microsystem influences in Hip Hop cultural contexts. From a womanist perspective, the emphasis in the microsystem is on how intimate social networks such as family and friends are often woman- (or girl-) centered, but not woman- (or girl-) exclusive—a fact that has both intrapsychic and material implications. Families Families play an important role in microsytems, particularly in the context of sexual health messaging. Familial units establish the foundational beliefs, values, and behaviors for interactions, including those that are sexual (Bubolz &

169

Sontag, 1993). Prior research has shown parental sexual messaging is instrumental in mediating relationships and sexual health messages adolescents receive outside their home. Specifically, parental communications about sexuality have been widely noted to be instrumental in shaping African American adolescent behavioral outcomes (Jaccard, Dittus, & Gordon, 2000; Rosenthal & Feldman, 1999; Wilson & Donenberg, 2004). Contemporary behavioral research supports that increased sexual intercourse is associated with decreased parental monitoring of African American adolescent sexual activity (Dittus & Jaccard, 2000; Whitaker & Miller, 2000). Researchers have found that African American parental conversations about sexuality with their children buffer adolescents from sexual risk taking (Dittus, Miller, Kotchick, & Forehand, 2004; Pistella & Bonati, 1998; Whitaker & Miller, 2000). Unfortunately, mainstream Hip Hop culture further offers unique challenges for parental media monitoring of sexual messaging. Unlike African American–based musical forms of the past, Hip Hop lacks cross-generational involvement (Stephens & Phillips, 2003). Some argue that because Hip Hop culture spans more than three decades, it is possible to find Hip Hop– identified parents and Hip Hop–identified children living in the same household. Thus, many mothers today are intimately familiar with Hip Hop culture and have learned to negotiate their own racial, gender, and sexual identities as Hip Hop messages have differed over the years (Emerson, 2002; Keyes, 2000; Phillips et al., 2005; Roberts & Ulen, 2000). There has been a significant growth in narratives detailing mothers’ and post–young adulthood women’s remorse over and subsequent rejection of current commercialized mainstream Hip Hop culture because of the centrality of misogyny and hypersexualization in its presentations (e.g., Morgan, 2002; O’Neal-Parker, 2006; Pegram, 2007; Roberts & Ulen, 2000). At the forefront of the movement to challenge negative sexual imagery, lyrics, and messaging in Hip Hop are former “Hip Hop Heads,” now adult mothers who are concerned about the current culture’s negative influence on their daughters’ psychological well-being (Morgan, 2002; Pegram, 2007; Stephens et al., 2008). This movement is womanist because the mother-daughter tension (Walker, 1983) critiques the problematic aspects of Hip Hop

170

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

while acknowledging and appreciating the ongoing cultural relevance of Hip Hop music and culture to both mothers and daughters. This potential parent-child disconnect is further problematized by the fact that African American adolescents are rarely watching television and other media forums with a parental presence (Roberts, 2000). Thus, parents’ ability to monitor sexual beliefs and attitudes that are being transmitted in this context may be more difficult. This is troubling, given that research has shown that parents influence their adolescents’ media consumption by directly monitoring the amount of viewing time and the content of various media forms that their adolescents consume (Gentile & Walsh, 2002). Furthermore, by coviewing and discussing media messages, parents can further inform their adolescents’ beliefs about sexuality, decreasing the negative messages youth receive from media (Gentile & Walsh). Despite these barriers, there is research that has found that parental messaging does play a role in African American female adolescents’ negotiation of mainstream Hip Hop culture values. Stephens et al. (2008) found that African American preadolescent girls viewed their mothers as primary sources of sexuality messaging. Furthermore, mothers were regarded both as models of appropriate sexual behaviors and as the parent most responsible for monitoring mainstream Hip Hop sexual image consumption. These results indicated that there were two specific ways in which maternal influence influenced adolescents’ negotiation of sexual images: (a) maternal enactment and/or modeling of the sexual images and (b) direct communication of maternal beliefs regarding sexually scripted information transmitted in mainstream Hip Hop culture. These findings support prior research that indicates that mothers serve as the leading source of sexual health information and values for adolescent girls (Feldman & Rosenthal, 2000; Miller, Kotchick, Dorsey, Forehand, & Ham, 1998; Rosenthal, Senserrick, & Feldman, 2001). African American maternal conversations about sexuality buffer adolescents from sexual risk taking (Karofsky, Zeng, & Kosorok, 2000). This does not mean that fathers do not have a role in shaping their adolescent daughters’ understandings of mainstream Hip Hop culture’s sexual messaging processes. Stephens (2008) found that African American adolescent women’s

fathers made them aware of inappropriate and appropriate sexual scripts in mainstream Hip Hop culture. Referring to Stephens and Phillips’s (2003) eight sexual scripts, these female adolescents noted that their fathers would not want them to enact behaviors associated with highly sexualized images. These participants stated that the Freak, Dyke, and Gold Digger images were viewed by their fathers as inappropriate models for sexual behaviors. In contrast, the Sister Savior and Diva, both of which are portrayed as “good girl” images, were viewed as acceptable models of behaviors by fathers. Participants also reported that they felt that these paternal values directly affected their usage and negotiation of sexual imagery in Hip Hop culture. This finding reinforces prior research that African American fathers’ opinions have a direct and immediate impact on sexual risk-taking behaviors (Dittus, Jaccard, & Gordon, 1997; Jaccard et al., 2000). In light of the importance that the preadolescent girls gave to their fathers’ opinions about these sexual images, there is a need for future research to move beyond focusing on the mother-child dyad. Fathers need to be more directly targeted in sexual imagery research before the importance of parental relationships with their adolescents can be definitively stated (Miller, Forehand, & Kotchick, 2000). Peer and Intimate Relationships Research on peer influence consistently shows the importance of friends in shaping adolescents’ beliefs and behavioral outcomes. Studies examining the importance of friends in shaping adolescent sexual attitudes and behaviors find that adolescents often rely on peer acceptance to define and gauge their behaviors (Prinstein, Meade, & Cohen, 2003). As a peer culture, mainstream Hip Hop serves a space through which African American female adolescents are able to satisfy their needs for acceptance and yet be different from the adults in their life, a central developmental task during this phase of the lifespan (Zimmerman, Copeland, Shope, & Dielman, 1997). Stephens and Few (2007b) argue that it is important to examine peer influences on adolescents’ usage of sexual images in mainstream Hip Hop culture as peers shape adolescents’ ideas about racial and cultural norms, particularly within spaces

13. Examining African American Female Adolescent Sexuality

defined as African American. This may be explained by prior research that found that African American adolescents who feel least assured of their emotional connection with friends may be most likely to yield to peer pressure to feel included, which can engender troublesome behavior (McCreary, Slavin, & Berry, 1996). Thus, even if an adolescent develops a negative attitude toward unhealthy sexual behaviors, she or he may not possess the skills to resist strong social pressures to conform to peers who do not share that attitude (Crockett, Raffaelli, & Shen, 2006; Prinstein et al., 2003). Wodarski, Smokowski, and Feit (1996) found that the rate at which African American adolescent sexual activity progressed and the extent to which condoms were used were both associated with the perceived behavior of friends. Within mainstream Hip Hop culture, peers serve to influence attitudes toward appropriate sexual scripting in mainstream Hip Hop culture. Stephens and Few (2007a) found that African American adolescents clearly recognized and felt that sexual scripts in mainstream Hip Hop culture shape attitudes and beliefs about sexuality among their peers. Female adolescents rejected the idea of being friends with a peer who enacted behaviors and attitudes associated with the Freak script, explaining that they did not want to be associated with their reputations. Similarly, other adolescents and women who enacted the Sister Savior script were viewed as potentially “good friends,” as they were good and kind. These results show that African American female adolescents were aware of what kinds of Hip Hop scripts were viewed acceptable by their peers. In addition, the importance of “fitting in” with peers’ acceptable usage of mainstream Hip Hop culture is highlighted in Stokes’s (2007) study of African American female adolescents’ MySpace pages. An online Web site targeted for peer social networking, MySpace creates peer cultural spaces where individuals can express themselves as they choose. Stokes found that African American female adolescents present themselves on their pages using sexual imagery grounded in Hip Hop culture. These adolescents’ presentations of themselves to their peers online illustrate the influence of microsystemlevel influences on the establishment of beliefs, values, and behaviors, as well as illustrating the

171

womanist value of activism, or resistance to self-negating stereotypes and scripts, through creative self-expression.

CONCLUSION AND APPLICATIONS OF A WOMANIST-ECOLOGICAL FRAMEWORK The use of a womanist-ecological lens to examine African American female adolescents’ sexual health is vital in helping family studies researchers create a link between research and practice. This approach systemically illustrates the value of examining mainstream Hip Hop culture as a context for providing valuable insights into the intersectionality of African American adolescents’ racial, gender, and sexual identities. For family studies researchers, a womanist-ecological framework comprehensively provides a visual illustration of the current research on African American female adolescent sexuality in mainstream Hip Hop culture. Womanism contributes an African American woman-centered point of view of the developing person, while the ecological model provides a complex structure for examining environmental influences on the African American female developing person. When reviewing the literature, family studies researchers using this model will be better able to identify the varied hidden and spoken sexual health messages being disseminated in this cultural context and to assess the impact of these messages on behavioral and psychological outcomes. Furthermore, this model’s flexibility allows for the integration of various individual identity factors such as age and geographic norms and beliefs (i.e., belief systems common in specific regions, or regionalism), particularly as they relate to music preferences, race, sexuality, and gender. We cannot ignore the fact that theoretical models must have utility for practice; soundness of theory is useless if the problem that is addressed has little relevance to client needs or service delivery. Fortunately, the knowledge gained from this model will help (outsider and insider) practitioners understand a culture in which African American female adolescent sexual identities are processed. Directions for practice, policy, and curriculum development are nuanced with the knowledge gained from a cultural insider perspective. For example, prior

172

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

research has found that programs seeking to achieve changes in the attitudes toward and beliefs about racial-/ethnic-minority sexuality that fail to recognize the unique cultural messages that influence these processes are likely to fail (Baldwin et al., 2008; DeLamater, Wagstaff, & Havens, 2000). The lesson for family studies researchers and public health workers is that mainstream Hip Hop culture goes beyond being a musical expression, ultimately serving as a full-fledged subculture that provides a support system and social structure for its consumers, including African American female adolescents. Thus, intervention programs and projects that address African American female adolescent sexual health issues that are based on an integrative model such as the one presented here can better address their clients’ needs. Furthermore, discussions framed within the context of mainstream Hip Hop culture provide a safe space to engage in explicit talk (Muehlenhard & McCoy, 1991). African American female adolescents may need tools, such as the sexual imagery in Hip Hop culture, to help them identify and critique sexual behaviors within a specific gender and racial context. Including discussions of sexual images can increase individuals’ comfort with sexual topics and their sense of general empowerment (Stephens, 2000). In conclusion, there is a critical need for further theory and research in the area of adolescent sexuality and mainstream Hip Hop culture. The emerging research continues to provide evidence that mainstream Hip Hop plays a pivotal role in shaping and informing young people’s attitudes and beliefs about sexuality. A significant portion of the lyrics and themes in mainstream Hip Hop culture reflects high-risk sexual beliefs, attitudes, and behaviors of African American adolescents (Smart Young, 2002; Stephens & Phillips, 2005). Within this context, traditional ideas about race, gender, and sexuality perpetually inform projections of African American female sexuality (Morgan, 2002; Roberts, 1996; Stephens & Few, 2007a, 2007b; Stephens & Phillips, 2003, 2005). For these reasons, the integrative womanist-ecological theoretical framework is useful for comprehensively and accurately framing this phenomenon. This process begins with an examination of what is currently being conveyed about sexuality in mainstream Hip Hop. Family studies researchers

can now use this framework for the next step of identifying innovative, alternative interventions from a nondeficit position that are reflective of the unique experiences of African American female adolescents. Clearly, there is need to address the total developing woman in process, as is highlighted by womanist theory. That is, the experiences of African American female adolescents, specific to their multiple identities, must be central concerns when analyzing their behaviors within the influential culture of mainstream Hip Hop.

REFERENCES Adams, J. (2002, April/May). Snoop scoops dirty-movie award. Blender. Retrieved June 7, 2008, from www.blender.com/guide/articles.aspx?id=293 Andsager, J., & Roe, K. (2004). What’s your definition of dirty, baby? Sex in music videos. Sexuality and Culture, 7, 79–97. Bachanas, P. J., Morris, M. K., Lewis-Gess, J. K., Sarett-Cuasay, E. J., Sirl, K., Ries, J. K., et al. (2002). Predictors of risky sexual behavior in African American adolescent girls: Implications for prevention interventions. Journal of Pediatric Psychology, 27(6), 519–530. Baker, H. A. (1992). You cain’t trus’ it: Experts witnessing in the case of rap. In G. Dent (Ed.), Black popular culture (pp. 132–138). Seattle, WA: Bay Press. Baldwin, J. A., Daley, E., Brown, E., August, E. M., Webb, C., & Stern, R. (2008). Knowledge and perception of STI/HIV risk among rural African American youth: Lessons learned in a faith-based pilot program. Journal of HIV/AIDS Prevention in Children and Youth, 9, 97–114. Bell-Scott, P. (1982). Debunking Sapphire: Toward a non-racist and non-sexist social science. In G. Hull, P. Bell-Scott, & B. Smith (Eds.), All the women are White, all the Blacks are men, but some of us are brave (pp. 85–92). New York: Feminist Press. Benda, B., & Corwyn, R. F. (1998). Race and gender differences in theories of sexual behavior among rural adolescents residing in AFDC families. Youth and Society, 1, 59–88. Botta, R. A. (2000). The mirror of television: A comparison of Black and White adolescents’ body image. Journal of Communication, 50(3), 144–162. Bronfenbrenner, U. (1979). The ecology of human development. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Bronfenbrenner, U. (1986). Ecology of the family as a context for human development: Research perspectives. Developmental Psychology, 22, 723–742. Brown, B. B., Mounts, N., Lamborn, S. D., & Steinberg, L. (1993). Parenting practices and peer group affiliation in adolescence. Child Development, 64, 467–482. Brown, J. D. (2000). Adolescents’ sexual media diets. Journal of Adolescent Health, 27, 35–40. Brown, J. D., Halpern, C. T., & L’Engle, K. L. (2005). Mass media as a sexual super peer for early maturing girls. Journal of Adolescent Health, 36, 420–427. Brown, J. D., L’Engle, K. L., Pardun, C. J., Guo, G., Kenneavy, K., & Jackson, C. (2006). Sexy media matter: Exposure to sexual content in music, movies, television, and magazines predicts Black and White adolescents’ sexual behavior. Pediatrics, 117, 1018–1027. Bubolz, M., & Sontag, M. (1993). Human ecology theory. In P. Boss, W. Doherty, R. LaRossa, W. Schumn, & S. Steinmetz (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theories and methods: A contextual approach (pp. 419–450). New York: Plenum Press.

13. Examining African American Female Adolescent Sexuality Centers for Disease Control. (2006). Youth risk behavior surveillance: United States, 2005. Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report, 55(SS-5), 1–108. Collins, P. H. (1994). Shifting the center: Race, class, and feminist theorizing about motherhood. In E. N. Glenn, G. Chang, & L. R. Forcey (Eds.), Mothering: Ideology, experience and agency (pp. 45–66). New York: Routledge. Collins, P. H. (2000). Black feminist thought: Knowledge, consciousness and the politics of empowerment (2nd ed.). New York: Routledge. Collins, P. H. (2005). Black sexual politics: African Americans, gender, and the new racism. New York: Routledge. Crockett, L. J., Raffaelli, M., & Shen,Y. (2006). Linking selfregulation and risk proneness to risky sexual behavior: Pathways through peer pressure and early substance use. Journal of Research on Adolescence, 16, 503–525. Cunningham, J. (2008, October 16). Strip club stardom. Miami New Times, p. 12. Darling, N. (2007). Ecological systems theory: The person in the center of the circles. Research in Human Development, 4, 203–217. DeLamater, J., Wagstaff, D. A., & Havens, K. K. (2000). The impact of a culturally appropriate STD/AIDS education intervention on Black male adolescents’ sexual and condom use behavior. Health Education and Behavior, 27, 454–470. Dittus, P., & Jaccard, J. (2000). The relationship of adolescent perceptions of maternal disapproval of sex and of the mother-adolescent relationship to sexual outcomes. Journal of Adolescent Health, 26, 268–278. Dittus, P., Jaccard, J., & Gordon, V. (1997). The impact of African–American fathers on adolescent sexual behavior. Journal of Youth and Adolescence, 26, 445–465. Dittus, P., Miller, K. S., Kotchick, B. A., & Forehand, R. (2004). Why parents matter! The conceptual basis for a community-based HIV prevention program for the parents of African American youth. Journal of Child and Family Studies, 13, 5–20. Edlund, M. (2004, March 7). Hip-hop’s crossover to the adult aisle. New York Times. Retrieved May 11, 2008, from http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9C01E0DD1 53FF934A35750C0A9629C8B63 Emerson, R. A. (2002). “Where my girls at?” Negotiating Black womanhood in music videos. Gender & Society, 16, 115–135. Feldman, S., & Rosenthal, D. (2000). The effect of communication characteristic on family members’ perception of parents as sex educators. Journal of Research on Adolescence, 10, 119–150. Few, A. L., Stephens, D. P., & Rouse-Arnett, M. (2003). Sister to sister talk: Transcending boundaries in qualitative research with Black women. Family Relations, 52, 205–215. Frith, S. (1996). Performing rites: On the value of popular music. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Gentile, D. A., & Walsh, D. A. (2002). A normative study of family media habits. Applied Developmental Psychology, 23, 157–178. Greenberg, B., & Hofschire, L. (2000). Sex on entertainment television. In D. Zillmann & P. Vorderer (Eds.), Media entertainment: The psychology of its appeal (pp. 93–112). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Hamilton, K. (2007, September 5). Battle of the Beats: A culture war is rocking within St. Louis’ underground hip-hop scene. Riverfront Times. Retrieved September 13, 2008, from www.riverfronttimes.com/2007-09-05/news/battle-ofthe-beats/ hooks, b. (1992). Black looks. Boston: South End Press. Hurt, B. (Producer and Director). (2006). Hip-Hop: Beyond beats and rhymes [Motion picture]. United States: God Bless the Child Productions. Hutchinson, J. F. (1999). The Hip Hop generation: African American male-female relationships in nightclub settings. Journal of Black Studies, 73, 62–84. Jaccard, J., Dittus, P. J., & Gordon, V. V. (2000). Parent-teen communication about premarital sex: Factors associated with the extent of communication. Journal of Adolescent Research, 15, 187–208.

173

Jackson, S. (1996). The social construction of female sexuality. In S. Jackson & S. Scott (Eds.), Feminism and sexuality: A reader (pp. 62–73). New York: Columbia University Press. Jones, J. M. (1991). Psychological models of race: What have they been and what should they be? In J. D. Goodchilds (Ed.), Psychological perspectives on human diversity in America (pp. 7–46). Washington, DC: American Psychological Association. Karofsky, P. S., Zeng, L., & Kosorok, M. R. (2000). The relationship between adolescent-parental communication and the initiation of first intercourse by adolescents. Journal of Adolescent Health, 28, 41–45. Keyes, C. (2000). Empowering self, making choices, creating spaces: Black female identity via rap music. Journal of American Folklore, 113, 255–269. Kim, S. (2001). Style council. Vibe, September, 206–210. Lichter, S. R. (2000). Sexual imagery in popular culture. Washington, DC: Center for Media and Popular Policy. McCreary, M. L., Slavin, L. A., & Berry, E. L. (1996). Predicting problem behavior and self-esteem among African American adolescents. Journal of Adolescent Research, 11, 216–234. McLoyd, V. C. (1998). Changing demographics in the American population: Implications for research on minority children and adolescents. In V. C. McLoyd & L. Steinberg (Eds.), Studying minority adolescents: Conceptual, methodological and theoretical issues (pp. 167–182). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Miller, K., Forehand, R., & Kotchick, B. (2000). Adolescent sexual behavior in two ethnic minority groups: A multisystem perspective. Adolescence, 35, 313–333. Miller, K., Kotchick, B., Dorsey, S., Forehand, R., & Ham, A. (1998). Family communication about sex: What are parents saying and are their adolescents listening? Family Planning Perspectives, 30, 218–222, 235. Morgan, J. (1999). When chickenheads come home to roost: A HipHop feminist breaks it down. New York: Simon & Schuster. Morgan, J. (2002). The war on girls: Sex, lies, and videos. Essence, 2, 120–124. Morton, P. (1991). Disfigured images: The historical assault on Afro-American women. New York: Praeger. Muehlenhard, C. L., & McCoy, M. L. (1991). Double standard/double bind: The sexual double standard and women’s communication about sex. Psychology of Women Quarterly, 15, 447–461. Muñoz-Laboy, M. A., Castellanos, D. H., Haliburton, C. S., del Aguila, E. V., Weinstein, H. J., & Parker, R. G. (2008). Condom use and Hip Hop culture: The case of urban young men in New York City. American Journal of Public Health, 98, 1081–1085. Muñoz-Laboy, M., Weinstein, H., & Parker, R. (2007). The Hip-Hop club scene: Gender, grinding and sex. Culture, Health and Sexuality, 9(6), 615–628. Nasheed, T. (2003). Play or be played: What every female should know about men, dating and relationships. New York: Fireside. Oh, M. (2005). Bling bling: Hip Hop’s crown jewels. New York: Wenner Books. O’Neal-Parker, L. (2006, October 15). Why I gave up on Hip-Hop. Washington Post, p. B01. Oswald, R., Blume, L. B., & Marks, S. (2005). Decentering heteronormativity: A model for family studies. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. Dilworth-Anderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 143–165). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Palca, J. (Host). (2005). Talk of the nation: Sexism, Hip-Hop and misogyny (Radio). Washington, DC: National Public Radio. Pegram, L. (2007). Romance vs. promiscuity in mainstream Hip-Hop. In Y. Womack & K. Jasper (Eds.), Beats rhymes and life: What we love and hate about Hip-Hop. New York: Harlem Moon. Perkins, W. E. (1996). Droppin’ science: Critical essays on rap music and Hip Hop culture. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Phillips, L. (2006). The womanist reader. New York: Routledge. Phillips, L. D., Reddick-Morgan, K., & Stephens, D. P. (2005). Oppositional consciousness within an oppositional realm: The case of feminism and womanism in rap and Hip Hop, 1976–2004 [Special issue]. Journal of African American History, 90, 19–32.

174

PART II. FEMINIST (RE)VISIONING OF “THE FAMILY”

Pistella, C., & Bonati, F. (1998). Communication about sexual behavior among adolescent women, their family, and peers. Families in Society: Journal of Contemporary Human Services, 79, 206–211. Pough, G. D. (2004). Check it while I wreck it: Black womanhood, Hip Hop culture, and the public sphere. Boston: Northeastern University Press. Pough, G. D., Richardson, E., Durham, A., & Raimist, R. (Eds.). (2007). Home girls make some noise: Hip Hop feminist anthology. Mira Loma, CA: Parker. Prinstein, M. J., Meade, C. S., & Cohen, G. L. (2003). Adolescent oral sex, peer popularity, and perceptions of best friends’ sexual behavior. Journal of Pediatric Psychology, 28, 243–249. Roberts, D. F. (2000). Media and youth: Access, exposure, and privatization. Journal of Adolescent Health, 27, 8–14. Roberts, R. (1996). Ladies first: Women in music videos. Jackson: University of Mississippi Press. Roberts, T., & Ulen, E. N. (2000). Sisters spin talk on Hip Hop: Can the music be saved? Ms. Magazine, 10, 69–74. Rose, T. (1994). Black noise: Rap music and Black culture in contemporary America. Hanover, NH: Wesleyan University Press. Rosenthal, D. A., & Feldman, S. S. (1999). The importance of importance: Adolescents’ perceptions of parental communication about sexuality. Journal of Adolescence, 22, 835–851. Rosenthal, D., Senserrick, T., & Feldman, S. (2001). A typology approach to describing parents as communicators about sexuality, Archives of Sexual Behavior, 30, 463–482. Sharpley-Whiting, T. D. (2007). Pimps up, ho’s down: Hip Hop’s hold on young Black women. New York: New York University Press. Sherman, B. L., & Dominick, J. R. (1986). Violence and sex in music videos: TV and rock ‘n’ roll. Journal of Communication 36, 79–83. Singh, M. (2007, February). Beyond the beats and rhymes. Campus Progress. Retrieved July 16, 2008, from www.campusprogress .org/page/community/post/singhm/C3DL Smart Young, T. (2002). One to watch: Sanaa Hamri, video director. Essence, 2, 84. Smith, S. L., & Boyson, A. R. (2002). Violence in music videos: Examining the prevalence and context of physical aggression. Journal of Communication, 52, 61–83. Smitherman, G. (1997). The chain remains the same. Journal of Black Studies, 28, 3–26. Staples, R. (1994). The setting. In R. Staples (Ed.), The Black family: Essays and studies (pp. 1–3). Belmont, CA: Wadsworth. Steffans, K. (2005). Confessions of a video vixen. New York: HarperCollins. Stephens, D. P. (2000). Putting sisters in the center: Using womanist theory and Bronfenbrenner’s ecological model of human development to examine young African American women’s sexual education processes. Abafazi Women’s Studies Journal, 2, 59–71. Stephens, D. P. (2008). Daughters’ perceptions of their fathers’ attitudes toward sexualized imagery in Hip Hop culture. Unpublished manuscript. Stephens, D. P., & Few, A. L. (2007a). Hip Hop honeys or video hos: African American preadolescents’ understandings of popular culture-based female sexual scripts. Sexuality and Culture, 11, 48–69.

Stephens, D. P., & Few, A. L. (2007b). The effects of images of African American women in Hip Hop on early adolescents’ attitudes toward physical attractiveness and interpersonal relationships. Sex Roles: A Journal of Research, 56, 251–264. Stephens, D. P., Few, A. L., & Neeves, S. (2008). The influence of mothers on African American female adolescents’ attitudes toward sexualized imagery in commercialized Hip Hop culture. Unpublished manuscript. Stephens, D. P., & Phillips, L. D. (2003). Freaks, gold diggers, divas and dykes: The socio-historical development of African American adolescent females’ sexual scripts. Sexuality and Culture, 7, 3–47. Stephens, D. P., & Phillips, L. D. (2005). Integrating Black feminist thought into conceptual frameworks of African American adolescent women’s sexual scripting processes. Sexualities, Evolution and Gender, 7, 37–55. Stokes, C. E. (2007). Representin’ in cyberspace: Sexual scripts, self-definition, and Hip Hop culture in Black American adolescent girls’ home pages. Culture, Health and Sexuality, 9, 169–184. Walker, A. (1983). In search of our mothers’ gardens: Womanist prose. New York: Harvest Books. Westbrook, A., & Westbrook, A. (2002). Hip hoptionary: The dictionary of Hip Hop terminology. New York: Harlem Moon. Wheeler, S. C., & Petty, R. E. (2001). The effects of stereotype activation on behavior: A review of possible mechanisms. Psychological Bulletin, 6, 797–826. Whitaker, D. J., & Miller, K. S. (2000). Parent-adolescent discussions about sex and condoms. Journal of Adolescent Research, 15, 251–273. Wilson, J. (2007). Tip drills, strip clubs, and representation in the media: Cultural reflections and criticisms from the POV of an African American female southern Hip-Hop scholar. In G. D. Pough, E. Richardson, A. Durham, & R. Raimist (Eds.), Homegirls make some noise: Hip Hop feminist anthology. New York: Parker. Wilson, H., & Donenberg, G. R. (2004). Quality of parent communication about sex and its relationship to risky sexual behavior among adolescents in psychiatric care. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 45, 387–395. Wingood, G. M., DiClemente, R. J., Bernhardt, J. M., Harrington, K., Davies, S. L., Robillard, A., et al. (2003). A prospective study of exposure to rap music videos and African American female adolescents’ health. American Journal of Public Health, 93, 437–440. Wingood, G. M., DiClemente, R. J., Harrington, K., Davies, S., Hook, E. W., & Oh, K. (2001). Exposure to X-rated movies and adolescents’ sexual and contraceptive-related attitudes and behaviors. Pediatrics, 107, 1116–1120. Wodarski, J. S., Smokowski, P. R., & Feit, M. D. (1996). Adolescent preventive health: A cost-beneficial social and life group paradigm. In J. S. Wodarski, M. D. Feit, & J. R. Ferrari (Eds.), Adolescent health care: Program designs and services (pp. 1–40). New York: Haworth Press. Wyatt, G. (1997). Stolen women: Reclaiming our sexuality, taking back our lives. New York: Wiley. Zimmerman, M., Copeland, L., Shope, J., & Dielman, T. (1997). A longitudinal study of self-esteem: Implications for adolescent development. Journal of Youth and Adolescence, 26, 117–141.

PA R T I I I FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

14 NONDISABLED SISTERS NAVIGATING SOCIOCULTURAL BOUNDARIES OF GENDER AND DISABILITY LORI A. M C G RAW A LEXIS J. WALKER

A PERSONAL STORY When I, Lori, was a child, my younger brother and I were primary playmates. Our family moved frequently, following my father’s pursuit of employment in a declining steel industry. My brother and I could depend on each other for companionship when other friends or family were unavailable. A unique aspect of our lives together is that my brother has cerebral palsy and required significant medical treatment and special education support, particularly when he was younger. Because of his disability, the childhood games that we played were slightly different versions of the games everyone else played. For example, in a race, I was required to cover the course many times—running, jumping, and skipping—while my brother walked the course once with his canes. I spent many hours in doctors’ offices, waiting with my mother and

brother for his various appointments. I watched my parents, particularly my mother, carry out various treatments prescribed by professionals. I also experienced greater public scrutiny when I was with my brother compared with when I was alone. Mostly, I noticed that people watched us for longer periods of time than they watched me when I was by myself. Sometimes, these occasions were awkward. Young children, for example, asked their mothers in louder-than-polite voices, “What is wrong with that boy?” One time, an obviously intoxicated man gave my parents money while we were eating in a restaurant. He stated in a slurred fashion that he felt sorry for my brother. On rare occasions, my brother’s disability worked to his advantage. When we were in college, my brother was admitted to bars before his 21st birthday, even in the toughest to get in places, because no one wanted to card the disabled guy. This benefit-via-sympathy bothers

Authors’ Note: This work was completed as part of the first author’s doctoral dissertation under the supervision of the second author. Portions of this article were previously published in the Journal of Family Issues, 28, 474–500. 177

178

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

my brother, and he usually works diligently to avoid it. Mainly, though, he experiences more hardship than most people due to his disability.

REFLEXIVITY AND DIALOGUE Because feminists view scientific knowledge as a social construction, they strive to engage in research practices that acknowledge and mediate, rather than ignore and deny, the social nature of science. Feminist researchers often seek to understand how their own narratives intertwine with the narratives they produce through the research process. In other words, they analyze not only the data but also the relationships between themselves and their participants. Reflexivity is a tool that researchers can use to recognize and manage the social nature of their work (Allen, 2000). In practical terms, this means that feminists think about their own social experiences, particularly as these experiences relate to race, class, gender, sexual orientation, and other areas of social stratification, and critically evaluate how their research practices are influenced by their positionality or social location. Reflexivity helped Lori, for example, to discern how her life experiences with her brother shaped her research interest in sibling ties. Reflexivity also forced us to attend to our relationship, a relationship between a doctoral student, Lori, and major professor, Alexis. As is true of families, we did not have a “harmony of interests” (Thorne, 1992, p. 10). Yet consistent with feminist principles of agency, Lori had considerable autonomy to pursue her research, even though the subject matter was not completely congruent with Alexis’s interests. This presented both opportunities and challenges for both of us. Smith (1987) argued that feminists cannot conduct feminist research without a consciousness of the ways that theories and methods constrain us from doing feminist work. In this collaboration, we acknowledged that both authors came to feminism in different ways. In addition to family studies, Lori minored in women’s studies and had formal training in feminist theory, feminist methods, and feminist research. She had an insider’s knowledge, both of academic feminism and also about disability. Though Alexis published several classic articles on integrating feminist theory and method into family studies (Thompson &

Walker, 1989; Walker & Thompson, 1984), she had no formal training in feminist theory or methodology; her feminist epistemology and practice were grassroots, informal, and grounded in traditional methodologies. Similar to the hierarchical nature of academia, traditional methods of research can be hierarchical and exploitive not only to participants but also to researchers. For this reason, we attended to power relations between us, a process that sometimes was tension filled. In our study, the student was sometimes mentor to the major professor in feminist practice. The academic structure, however, positioned Alexis as the arbiter of “quality.” We faced tension in that the authority of feminist theory and methods held by the doctoral student was positioned against the authority vested in the major professor by professorial status and also through visibility in the family studies field. Over multiple and repeated conversations, in which we sometimes struggled to have our own voices heard, we came to understand and respect each other as collaborators. Through this respectful collaboration, we believe that our work was made more ethical and rigorous. Reflexivity also helped us analyze how our social location as White women raised in workingclass families shaped the study. As an illustration of how social location can influence relationships with participants, most participants in this study grew up in middle- or upper-middle-class families, but both authors grew up in workingclass families. The participants in the sample indicated that their parents had sufficient resources to obtain medical and educational services for their children with developmental disabilities. Financial security was never mentioned as a problem for most of these participants. Both authors, however, grew up in families that sometimes struggled financially—particularly during their childhoods. This difference in experience helped highlight that this study offers only a partial understanding of nondisabled sisters’ lives because it consists of a small sample of White, mostly heterosexual, primarily middleclass, and relatively well-educated participants. The difference also helped Lori to be thoughtful about the envy she occasionally felt interviewing participants who were more privileged than she was as a child. Awareness of these social processes helped her be a more effective interviewer and helped both authors be more insightful researchers.

14. Nondisabled Sisters Navigating Sociocultural Boundaries of Gender and Disability

Because research is inherently social, critical reflection requires not only self-assessment but also dialogue with diverse groups of people guided by the values of empathy, respect, and care (Noddings, 1984; Thompson, 1995). This dialogic process can assist family scientists in their quest to create a broader, more empirically accurate knowledge (Baber & Allen, 1992; McGraw, Zvonkovic, & Walker, 2000; Nielsen, 1990). The present study enlarges our understanding of middle- and later-life families, for example, because of its focus on an understudied group, adult sisters and individuals with disabilities. A focus on gender and disability, however, meant that random sampling techniques could not be used. Though the survival rate for babies with disabilities has increased over the past 30 years, individuals with developmental disabilities—particularly those who are older—constitute a rare population. Using “the situation at hand” (Fonow & Cook, 1991, p. 11), Lori talked with the women who were available to her, even though these women were not diverse in terms of other areas of social stratification such as race and ethnicity.

WORKING OUT A PHILOSOPHICAL APPROACH TO KNOWLEDGE PRODUCTION Using tools such as reflexivity implies a particular epistemological stance, both for theory building and for methodological decisions. Epistemology refers to the study of knowledge, the study of what and how we know what we know (Harding, 1987). As noted above, feminists believe that science is a social activity embedded in a social context (Nielsen, 1990; Thompson, 1992). An explicit assumption of traditional social science is that truth can be found through the separation of the researcher from the researched. Feminists argue that this separation is impossible to achieve. They also argue that by objectifying research participants, social scientists engage in a knowledge-producing process that renders marginalized people powerless and provides inaccurate information about their lives. Three areas of knowledge production can be problematic: content, method, and purpose (Westkott, 1979). Feminists criticize the content of traditional science because it distorts women’s lives. For example, some family scientists have idealized the traditional nuclear family—one

179

consisting of a breadwinner father and a homemaker mother—even though this arrangement leaves women economically vulnerable (e.g., Parsons, 1951). Feminist criticisms of method spring from these criticisms of content. They argue that how questions about women have been posed leads to a misrepresentation of women’s experiences. For example, research concluding that the lack of father involvement in lesbian-parent households leads to negative outcomes for children distorts the reality that lesbian mothers often encourage male involvement with their children, particularly if these mothers have sons (Goldberg & Allen, 2007). Feminist scholars of color have identified similar problems with traditional scientific methods (e.g., Chow, 1987; hooks, 1984; Moraga & Anzaldúa, 1983). Their critiques have highlighted the fact that White women engaged in feminist scholarship tend to ignore race issues. They have argued that this ignorance is problematic because the experiences of racial and ethnic minority women and their families are different from those of the majority of White women living in America (Dill, 1988). The history of slavery and the continued institution of racism in U.S. society, for example, have resulted in hardships for African American women that White women have not experienced (Jones, 1995). Feminists also are concerned with the purpose of knowledge about women. Traditional methods, they argue, tend to reinforce the exploitation of women as “data-generating objects of research” (Westkott, 1979, p. 63) rather than as human beings deserving of empathy and respect. Research questions, practices, and findings are not politically neutral; instead, science can be used in ways that either suppress or enhance women’s lives, depending on the agendas of researchers or of policymakers (McGraw et al., 2000). Feminist family researchers seek to explicitly state their agenda. Many seek to transform society by eliminating all systems of oppression, or at least systems of oppression that are most recognizable in their own lives. They adhere to the belief that researchers can play an emancipatory role for and with oppressed people—through the research methods they use, the knowledge they produce, and the practices they generate from their findings (Freire, 2003; Lather, 1991). With these thoughts in mind, Lori noticed that little is known about nondisabled women’s experiences with their siblings who have

180

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

developmental disabilities. The limited empirical evidence that does exist takes for granted nondisabled sisters’ responsibility for providing care and de-emphasizes the larger sociocultural milieu that stigmatizes people with disabilities. This lack of attention to the social construction of both gender and disability via adult sibling ties offers an incomplete and fragmented picture of the concerns faced by middle- and later-life families with members who have developmental disabilities. Without a complete and cohesive picture of the sociocultural contexts within which these ties take place, our society will remain ill prepared to change practices that oppress both women and individuals with disabilities. To begin to address these theoretical and empirical gaps, this study focuses on the sociocultural boundaries nondisabled sisters navigate— in relation to themselves and to their siblings with developmental disabilities. We asked how nondisabled sisters understand themselves and their siblings within sociocultural systems that dictate what it means to be a “good” woman and a “normal” person. In turn, we asked how nondisabled sisters conform to and resist these systems. Through this approach, we attended to the cultural contradictions associated with nondisabled sisters’ lifelong connections with their siblings with disabilities.

INTEGRATING DISABILITY, GENDER, AND FAMILY THEORIES We used an integrative theoretical approach to chart the sociocultural boundaries within which nondisabled-disabled sibling ties take place and the ways in which nondisabled siblings accept or reject these boundaries. This approach brought together thought from critical feminist and disability theorists via a strategic social constructionist perspective. Though a full integration of critical feminist and disability theories may not be possible, key points from each were synthesized into the data analysis process. This synthesis is particularly important because the everyday lives of women and people with developmental disabilities are intimately connected. Ideas from cultural sociology were integrated to “investigate how meaning-making happens, why meanings vary, how meanings influence human action, and the ways meaning-making is important in social cohesion, domination, and resistance”

(Spillman, 2002, p. 1). Finally, we used theoretical concepts from poststructuralism to account for agency and social constraint in the dialectic process of meaning making. The theoretical perspectives that were brought together were compatible because each focuses on social context, meaning, and power. Feminist theorists attend to the emotional, psychological, relational, political, and economic consequences of a gender system that requires the subordination of women’s interests to men’s interests in families and in society (Osmond & Thorne, 1993). Feminists embrace the idea that within every culture, gender is embedded in historically fluid ideologies that bring about disadvantage, stratification, and hierarchy (Ferree, 1991; Weedon, 1997). Gender is conceptualized not as a biological process resulting in essential distinctions between women and men but as a socially constructed process that produces particular types of identities and relationships in particular kinds of contexts. These identities and relationships are shaped also by other sociocultural structures, such as race and class (Ferree). Thorne (1992) argued that the best way to analyze relational processes within families is to examine how they are shaped by race, class, gender, generation, and sexuality. An area of diversity largely missing from feminist scholarship, however, is that of disability (Hillyer, 1993; Lloyd, 2001; Wendell, 1996). Like gender, disability is a historically changing sociocultural construct also embedded in ideology and related to disadvantage, stratification, and hierarchy (Stroman, 2003; Taylor, 2000). Disability scholars and activists have shown, for example, that obstacles to education, community and political participation, independent living, employment, and personal relationships result not from individual incapacities but from sociocultural environments (Fleischer & Zames, 2001). These sociocultural contexts, in turn, shape the identities of people with disabilities and the relationships they have with others. In his pivotal work, Goffman (1963) argued that individuals with disabilities experience stigma, a deeply discrediting process that lies not in the individual but in the relational processes between a person with a difference and others who evaluate this difference negatively. Link and Phelan (2001) elaborated Goffman’s concept by identifying five components of it: labeling, stereotyping, separation, status loss, and discrimination. Labeling, the

14. Nondisabled Sisters Navigating Sociocultural Boundaries of Gender and Disability

recognition of difference in the context of a power differential, is particularly important for our study. Power differences, of course, are necessary to bring about disadvantage, stratification, and hierarchy. In addition to the above insights, the theoretical approach used in this study is related to symbolic interactionism because we focused on the socially interactive processes of meaning making (Blumer, 1969) and the relationship between individual agency and societal constraint (LaRossa & Reitzes, 1993). For example, attention was placed on processes that encourage or constrain gendered sibling identities via interaction with close others. This approach was also close to Goffman’s (1963) conceptualization of identity management within the context of sharing stigma. According to Goffman, nondisabled sisters must manage their own partially stigmatized identities when they have close ties with their siblings with developmental disabilities. Though the theoretical approach in this study has many commonalities with symbolic interactionism, it also diverges from it in that we focus less on overt behaviors and roles and more on intersubjectively shared, social constructions of meaning and knowledge (Gergen, 1999). We were interested in understanding not only how individuals make sense of themselves but also how they understand themselves and their siblings with disabilities in relation to broadly available sociocultural ideals about gender and disability. To do so, we drew insights from cultural sociology (Smith, 2003) and poststructuralism (Foucault, 1990; Weedon, 1997). Cultural sociology adds to this theoretical discussion by focusing attention on the dialectic relationship between how individuals build their worlds and how material culture enables and constrains their efforts to do so. Individuals are conceptualized as moral agents who are constructed by an innate tendency to believe in sociocultural or moral orders that dictate what is right and wrong, good and bad, worthy and unworthy (Smith, 2003). These moral orders are made up of complex systems of rules (Giddens, 1984) or schemas (Sewell, 1992) and resources. In other words, moral orders are both symbolic and material. These moral orders, animated by institutions and by individuals who make up these institutions, tend to hold powerful sway over the individuals and institutions that give them life. Moral orders provide not only a stabilizing influence but

181

also a destabilizing influence that encourages change. Because competing moral orders always exist, because dominant moral orders are never flawless, and because individuals can be creative and improvisational moral believers, socialization into moral orders is never complete and social change can occur (Smith, 2003). How nondisabled sisters describe themselves and their siblings with developmental disabilities is intimately intertwined with moral orders that dictate what it means to be a good sister. Moral orders also dictate who is and is not stigmatized. Poststructuralists particularly emphasize the contingent and changing nature of moral orders or forms of knowledge over time and the ways these varying forms of knowledge construct individual identities and relationships—often in fragmented ways. Certain poststructuralist theorists, such as Foucault (1990) and Weedon (1997), were especially important to this project because they offer insights into how inequality and power work within these knowledge systems, discourses, or moral orders. Foucault highlighted how people in institutions (including families) are categorized into normal and abnormal groups and how these categories change over time and are linked to power relations that serve to discipline and control the identities and actions of individuals. Feminist poststructuralists also highlight how competing discourses take shape through the organization of social power, a process that includes consensus and conflict, both within and between individuals (Weedon, 1997). Within any given nondisabled sister, then, there exists the potential for inconsistencies related to how she understands herself and her sibling with a developmental disability within systems of knowledge that shape her probable options. There also exists the possibility that moral orders dictating who is good and normal are particularly stable, leaving fewer options from which sisters can draw. The aim of this project is to begin to illuminate how nondisabled sisters understand themselves and their siblings within sociocultural systems that dictate what it means to be a “good” woman and a “normal” person. In turn, we ask how nondisabled sisters conform to and resist these systems.

TRANSLATING THEORY INTO METHOD Using a phenomenological approach to qualitative research, Lori conducted in-depth interviews with

182

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

10 nondisabled White women. Phenomenology is premised on the idea that people function in their lives using knowledge composed of commonsense constructs and categories that are social in origin. Individuals make sense of their lives by applying images, theories, ideas, and values within this social framework to their own lives (Gubrium & Holstein, 1993). Individuals not only use knowledge created within this system, but they are also active constructors of their lives via their meaning-making efforts. They, therefore, influence cultural systems of meaning. This approach reflects the assumption that people construct their worlds and themselves through the creation of symbolic and representational stories or narratives (Bruner, 1986). Because our research objective was to generalize to theory, theoretical sampling strategies were used to recruit the 10 participants in this study. These strategies are rooted in grounded theory (Strauss & Corbin, 1990) and encourage the collection of data that are “significant because they are repeatedly present or notably absent when comparing incident after incident, and are of sufficient importance to be given the status of categories” (p. 176). In particular, open and discriminate theoretical sampling strategies were used. In the open sampling phase, when openness rather than specificity guides the sampling choices, five nondisabled women, ranging in age from 21 to 82, who had siblings with developmental disabilities, were asked to participate in the study. (The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, Administration on Developmental Disabilities defines developmental disabilities as those that are severe, chronic disabilities attributable to mental and/or physical impairment, which manifest before age 22 and are likely to continue indefinitely. They result in substantial limitations in three or more of the following areas: self-care, receptive and expressive language, learning, mobility, self-direction, capacity for independent living, and economic self-sufficiency.) The nondisabled women were either acquaintances of the first author or of others known to her. She explained that she was just beginning the study and that she was interested in any stories or thoughts that they would like to share. All five of the women agreed to participate. In the discriminate phase of sampling, participants were solicited to maximize opportunities

for verifying findings. Because older women were more likely to consider giving or to be giving care to their siblings with disabilities, we recruited women who were at least 35 years of age into this phase of our study. We did so because sociocultural imperatives related to gender and disability seemed to be amplified for women who were either considering or were actually giving some level of care to their siblings with developmental disabilities. Women, 35 years of age and older, with siblings who have disabilities, were contacted via a developmental disabilities agency in Oregon. The program manager sent an introductory letter along with a letter from us to sisters of the clients served by his agency. Both letters described the study and invited the women to contact the first author directly if they were interested in participating. Five women contacted her and all agreed to participate. The women participating in this portion of the study ranged in age from 39 to 54 years. Five of the 10 women in the sample were married, one was widowed, one was divorced, two were never married, and one was in a longterm lesbian relationship. The women had, on average, two children (ranging from 0 to 5 years). The participants were well educated with four having graduate degrees, two having undergraduate degrees, and four having some college education. Half of the women worked for pay full-time, two worked part-time, one was retired from full-time employment, one was a homemaker, and one was a full-time student. The women came from diverse geographic and family backgrounds but were similar in that they were White and mainly middle class. One woman was working class, however, and one woman was raised in a working-class environment but attained middle-class status in adulthood. The siblings with disabilities were between the ages of 22 and 66 years, and none were married or had children. Three of the siblings, however, had been involved in romantic relationships. Seven of the siblings were women, and three were men. They had the following developmental disabilities: blindness, cerebral palsy, deafness, Down syndrome, limb deformities, and mental retardation. They also had other medical problems such as depression, seizures, and visual impairments. Most of the siblings had multiple disabilities and all but one had mental retardation. Though the siblings’ disabilities varied, they

14. Nondisabled Sisters Navigating Sociocultural Boundaries of Gender and Disability

were similar in that they were significant, socially visible, and limited the independence of those who had them. The siblings required varying levels of assistance. They lived in their parents’ homes, in community-assisted living arrangements, in state institutions, or in a combination of arrangements over time. Two of the siblings lived independently with less assistance. Most of the siblings were employed with varying levels of help as well. For example, many of the siblings were employed in sheltered workshops. Two were never employed, however, and one was attending community college. Design of Qualitative Interviews A conversational partner (Rubin & Rubin, 1995) approach to qualitative interviews was used to engage in dialogue with nondisabled sisters about their experiences in relationships with siblings who have developmental disabilities. This approach can decrease, though not eliminate, asymmetrical power relations between researchers and their participants (Kvale, 2006). The women chose when and where they wanted the interviews to take place, generally choosing to talk in their own homes or workplaces, or in the first author’s home. The nondisabled sisters exercised considerable control over the content of the interviews as well. For example, participants were encouraged to tell stories they thought were important. Six sensitizing questions also helped encourage their storytelling. These questions were: (a) What are your most vivid memories of growing up with your sibling? (b) What are the significant turning points in your family’s life and how did the presence of a child with a disability influence those times? (c) How do you think your family relationships were/are influenced by your sibling’s disability? (d) How did/do you and your family members provide support and care for your sibling? (e) When you think about your relationship with your sibling, what are you most proud of? (f) What do you most regret? Congruent with feminist philosophy on empowering research (Lather, 1988), the first author answered questions about her own life when participants asked. Interviews lasted between 1 and 3 hours. These in-depth interviews were tape recorded and transcribed verbatim for analysis. Names

183

and identifying details were changed to ensure the confidentiality of participants. Data Analysis Procedures Using the integrative theoretical approach outlined earlier in this chapter, the first author analyzed stories nondisabled sisters told about themselves and their siblings with developmental disabilities, connecting their stories to systems of power or discourse that undervalue women and persons with disabilities (Gubrium & Holstein, 2000). Answers to the following research questions were sought: (a) How do sociocultural systems or discourses related to being a “good” woman and being “normal” shape women’s understandings of themselves and their siblings with disabilities? (b) How do nondisabled sisters conform to and resist these discourses? The practical aspects of the data analysis process followed a pattern described by Huberman and Miles (1994), and included the phases of data reduction, data display, and conclusion drawing/verification. During the data reduction phase, the theoretical orientations of the project shaped the questions asked and the emphasis placed on allowing the women to share insights that were important to them. During the data display phase, transcripts were read and reread to identify important concepts and themes related to the women’s beliefs about their siblings’ disabilities and about their roles as sisters. Initial concepts included stigma, normality, strengths, and challenges related to siblings, lessons learned, the role of sisters, jealousy (or lack of jealousy), positive and problematic aspects of being a sister, and gendered family patterns. Each woman’s story was analyzed for ambivalent feelings and contradictory statements (Gavey, 1989). For example, one participant emphasized how her sibling was no problem at all but described how he had become violent. Each woman’s story was also compared with and contrasted to the other stories to determine similarities and differences among the women. Main themes were developed from concepts common to all or almost all the women. Variability within these main themes was identified via the technique of negative case analysis (Strauss & Corbin, 1990). For example, not all the women reacted in the same way to their siblings’ stigmatized position in the community. Negative case analysis helped identify this

184

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

variation. In addition, there were two instances when a woman’s story was different from the stories of the other women. These instances are discussed in the next section, adding further nuance to the findings. In the conclusion drawing phase, Foucault’s (1990) ideas were particularly relevant. We paid special attention to how definitions of normality and abnormality in both gender and disability relations served to establish boundaries of acceptable beliefs for the women in our study. In turn, evidence of resistance to sociocultural boundaries was sought (Gavey, 1989). Congruent with feminist methodologists who advocate a reduction of power differences between researchers and the researched (e.g., Acker, Barry, & Esseveld, 1983), Lori took her initial article to the first five participants in the study, asking if she had written faithfully to their lives. Essentially, the women indicated that once their story became intertwined with the stories of other participants, it was no longer their story. They responded positively to the article, however, encouraging the continuation of the work. We agree with Wheatley (1994), who argues that the final authority of any given research project does not rest with the author but with the ongoing dance between authors and readers, who have their own interpretive practices.

REPRESENTING WOMEN’S STORIES The nondisabled women in the study provided unique insights into how discourses shape women’s beliefs about sisterhood and developmental disability. Their stories suggest that being a good sister to someone with a developmental disability involves portraying the sibling as normal, emphasizing opportunities for moral enhancement, minimizing personal sacrifices, and accepting the ideology of gendered family care. Though all the women told consistent stories related to these main themes— suggesting that dominant discourses are indeed at work—evidence of resistance existed as well. This resistance was shown not through decisive or consistent statements but through ambivalent or contradictory ones. The women simultaneously believed in and rejected cultural ideologies related to “normal” behavior for women and for people with disabilities.

Their resistance was particularly apparent in discussions about disability. Portraying Their Siblings With Disabilities as Normal: “She’s Just a Regular Sister” Nondisabled women told stories about their siblings with disabilities through the lens of a cultural discourse that devalues people with disabilities (Stroman, 2003). They described their siblings in ways that emphasized the siblings’ normality and exceptionality, while struggling with the knowledge that disability is a stigmatized social position. All the women were aware of the societal stigma attached to their siblings’ disabilities, though their reactions to it varied. Two of the women expressed anger toward those with negative responses. For example, Joan, 44, recalled the public attention she and her family received because of her brother’s mental retardation. She stated, “He wasn’t weird. We used to get really angry when we would take him out and people would look at him.” Another woman emphasized the sadness surrounding her sibling’s stigmatized position. Linda, 49, described how her love for her brother made it difficult to understand a neighbor’s reaction to him: “I remember my mom telling me that a neighbor [approached her] to coo over the baby and, when they saw him, said, ‘How can you take that out on the street?’” Alison, 32, recalled using humor to defy public attention toward her sister’s limb deformities: “Well, we made it a game. When we were at the beach, we used to stand her prosthesis upside down in the sand!” She described interactions her mother had: “People used to come up and give my mom money.” Half of the women minimized the stigmatizing behaviors of the people in their communities. Instead, they privileged positive experiences. Claire, 21, emphasized that her sister was “loved by everybody” and that “she is by far the most popular member” of her family. Yet she relayed a story of how friends unknowingly insulted her when they made fun of “the retards working at Burger King.” She said, “It was funny. They were just joking.” Elizabeth, 57, described public outings as an opportunity to receive social support from the larger community, yet she told stories about unwanted attention too. She stated that her sister was “raised as queen of the community.” When asked to tell more about public interactions, Elizabeth relayed a story of “a delegation coming

14. Nondisabled Sisters Navigating Sociocultural Boundaries of Gender and Disability

from [her] church to encourage [her] parents to take Margaret to be healed by a child evangelist,” demonstrating that some community members viewed her sister as someone in need of healing rather than as someone to be revered. Though the women were aware of the societal stigma surrounding disability, they all gave prominence to their siblings’ strengths and normalcy. Their stories portrayed ambivalence, however, between their experiences and nondisabled definitions of normalcy. Joan, 44, described her brother as “very easy to get along with.” Later, she acknowledged, “He’s gotten violent.” As a child, she remembered thinking, “I wish he was normal and [could] have a normal life.” Claire, 21, described numerous examples of her sister’s normalcy and exceptionality. She explained,“She was, for the most part, treated like a normal kid. She makes it easy on us because she is so high functioning.” She stressed her sister’s social integration and described ways that she is talented, “She can memorize the lines [of a play] in like 20 minutes!” She concluded, “To me, she is just a regular sister. I don’t think of her as having a disability.” Claire highlighted Karen’s normalcy but also talked of how Karen was different. She told of how Karen had a difficult time holding a job because of inappropriate behavior. She said that she did not “like to think of Karen having any kind of adult romantic sexual life.” She elaborated, “It is a very disturbing thought for me. Obviously, Karen couldn’t raise a child on her own.” These nondisabled women described their siblings with disabilities as either normal or exceptional within a predominant cultural discourse that says disability is neither normal nor exceptional. Many of the women de-emphasized their siblings’ problematic behavior, while simultaneously discussing ways that their siblings did not meet standards of normality. One woman discussed how definitions of normality were not appropriate for her family. In this way, she resisted dominant definitions of normality. Though most of the women did not question sociocultural standards of normality, they did position themselves with their siblings. Emphasizing Opportunities for Moral Enhancement: “We Learned to Have Compassion” Disability can carry with it a stigma that deeply discredits a person’s moral character (Bogdan &

185

Taylor, 1994). Through their connections to their siblings with disabilities, however, all the women but one discussed opportunities for their own and their family’s moral enhancement. Nondisabled sisters explained that they were more virtuous because of their relationships with siblings with developmental disabilities, particularly if that sibling had mental retardation. The narratives of these nine sisters indicate that they achieved higher moral standing by transcending negative cultural attitudes toward persons with disabilities to have compassion for them. Like mothers who provide care for children with disabilities (Traustadottir, 1991), seven of the women in this study emphasized that having a sibling with a disability provided them with an opportunity for personal growth. Joan, 44, said, “I learned to have compassion for disabled people.” Lisa, 39, explained, “She has helped me grow and to have patience.” Janet, 54, whose sister was both mentally retarded and blind, said, “I felt like I was helping her and I was being a good person.” Elizabeth, 57, explained that, because of her experiences with her sister, she has an “abiding commitment that everybody counts.” Debbie, 44, discussed ways that she became a disability activist through her relationship with her sister: “I started an association at the junior high. We got involved with Special Olympics. When I look back, I can’t believe I did that.” The women also described ways in which their families benefited from involvement with a member with a disability. Janet, 54, said, “It was great for my kids. I think it makes you more appreciative of what you have.” Shirley, 45, indicated that her brother has helped her family “have compassion for people.” Lisa, 39, believed that her sister’s disability brought her family “closer together. It gave us a much better perspective of what we have and what we can be thankful for.” Esther, 82, stated, “I believe she gave us a love that made us a better family. I know I am a better person because of her.” Though most women discussed opportunities for moral enhancement, one woman was not entirely comfortable with her elevated moral standing. Claire, 21, had a sense that she gained public recognition because of her sister, though she felt embarrassed by this fact. She explained, “I just think, in a selfish way, it puts [me] in a positive light. People say, ‘Claire has this sister who is disabled and it’s so noble.’” She enjoyed the positive attention she received for being a

186

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

good sister, but she also felt ambivalent about it. She shared that she had been conceived to help her sister with a disability learn and develop. She further explained that physicians had encouraged her parents to do this for the sake of their child with a disability. Claire felt special as a result of growing up with this important purpose in life. She also felt, however, that her elevated standing somehow took away from her sister’s accomplishments. Only one woman, Alison, 32, stated that her sibling’s disability did not enhance her moral standing. Alison’s sister had a physical disability and the other participants had siblings with mental retardation. A person with mental retardation may be in a more stigmatized position than an individual with a physical disability. Sisters with siblings with mental retardation may also experience more stigma than sisters with siblings with physical disabilities, resulting in a higher likelihood that they feel morally enhanced by their sibling relationships. Though Alison did not position herself as morally elevated relative to those who looked down on her sister, she did discuss using humor against those who stared at or behaved rudely toward her sister. Though the larger cultural discourse devalues persons with disabilities, the women in this sample did not. They positioned themselves outside predominant sociocultural values. In this way, they used their connections to their siblings as a means to elevate themselves morally and to resist dominant sociocultural discourse that devalues people with disabilities (and their family members). The process of taking the moral high ground, however, did not come naturally or easily to the women in our study. The women told stories of how they and other family members were and continue to be frustrated, embarrassed, and occasionally repulsed by their siblings with disabilities. Their elevated moral position was tempered with ambivalent feelings. Minimizing Personal Consequences: “I Was Never Jealous” Most of the nondisabled sisters discussed difficult personal adjustments they made because of their siblings’ disabilities, yet they minimized the negative consequences they experienced. They framed their stories, instead, with an understanding of their parents’ circumstances and with a compassion for the

impact these circumstances had on their family relationships. The women in this study mainly accepted sacrifices that were made to care for their siblings with disabilities. The women primarily spoke of their personal hardships against a backdrop of benefits, highlighting the complex nature of these connections. All the 10 women minimized feelings of jealousy toward their siblings with disabilities, though their siblings required extra resources and attention. They explained that their personal needs had been met. Shirley, 45, stated, “I always remember that it was no big deal. First of all, my grandfather lived with us. When David needed my mother, I had my grandfather.” Joan, 44, reflected on her mother’s active involvement in raising her brother, participating in his school organizations, and attending parent support groups: “I never felt jealous about it. She was always there when I needed her.” Although the women were not jealous of their siblings with disabilities, a few described ways that they were jealous of other siblings. Elizabeth, 57, said, “I have been jealous of my [nondisabled] brother.” Lisa, 39, explained that she did not have feelings of jealousy toward her sister with a disability because, she said, “I was so much older. I’d gone through that with the three brothers, feeling jealous because I was the only girl. Dad babied them.” Claire, 21, stated, “I was mostly jealous of, not Karen, but pretty much every other sibling I have.” Eight of the women downplayed feelings of resentment because of their siblings with disabilities, but they also told of personal hardships. Lisa, 39, described how at 18 years of age she took responsibility for caring for her twin sisters. She explained, “I took the main responsibility for the other twin. I became [her] mom.” Later she explained, “I guess I didn’t think about it then. It was just one of those things that needed to be done.” Alison, 32, stated that her adolescent development was influenced by the fact that her “mom was never around.” She explained, “At the time, it didn’t bother me. It was normal. I think I did most of my drinking to excess in high school, [however], because no one was watching me.” Debbie, 44, recalled the difficult time shortly after her sister’s birth and the accompanying illnesses that followed. “I don’t remember Mom sitting down and coloring with me. I

14. Nondisabled Sisters Navigating Sociocultural Boundaries of Gender and Disability

remember feeling so alone. She probably didn’t have time. She had things to work through.” Two women did not minimize personal consequences; they expressed more feelings of hardship than did the other women in this sample. When asked how her relationship with Margaret had shaped her life, Elizabeth, 57, replied, “It has dramatically shaped the way I use my money, my time, relationships with other people, where I have lived, and where I have chosen to work.” A sensitive issue for Elizabeth was that a long-time relationship had been jeopardized because of her commitment to care for her sister, “I’m torn between the two of them.” She felt frustrated by the level of community support she received. She had a demanding career and, as she explained, “was getting older.” She felt that she could no longer take care of her sister, but her sister was not a high priority for placement in her county’s assisted living program. Linda, 49, who spent years in therapy to overcome feelings of depression and guilt, explained, “When I was younger, I felt I was a bad person to admit I was embarrassed by any family member, particularly one that was disabled. There is a sympathy factor there, especially if you feel guilty about the disability.” She also described her family as having problems that were exacerbated by her sibling’s disability. For example, she believes that her parents’ marriage was strained because of the stress associated with having a child with a disability. As an adult, she has worked hard to have a positive relationship with her brother, while acknowledging the negative impact his disability sometimes had on her parents and, in turn, on her. The myths that are detrimental to motherchild relationships when children have disabilities (Hillyer, 1993) are also detrimental to sisters who have siblings with disabilities. Myths such as, “It’s not okay to talk about problems. Always be good. Don’t be selfish” (p. 207), form the cultural foundation for how women should behave. Most of the women in this exploratory sample did not move beyond a cultural discourse that requires women to be unselfish toward their siblings with disabilities. Only one woman discussed her frustrations without minimizing personal consequences or expressing simultaneous guilt. This woman was highly educated and well paid. She worked in a demanding, high-status position, and she was the legal guardian of her sister. Perhaps the

187

combination of her social resources and her difficult circumstances afforded her the ability to express self-interested concerns. Accepting the Ideology of Gendered Family Care: “I’m Like a Mom” Each of the women in this sample made sense of herself and her sibling with a disability within a cultural milieu that requires women to care for people with disabilities (Hooyman & Gonyea, 1995; Traustadottir, 1991, 2000). The women described different care responsibilities for mothers and fathers and for sisters and brothers, relaying the belief that women have more responsibility for care than men do. Rarely did the women indicate that they were distressed by these gendered family patterns. Generally, they excused the men in their lives for not being involved with their siblings with disabilities. Their fathers had been busy working for pay; their brothers were embarrassed or not around much when they were growing up. Instead of being critical of the boys and men in their lives, a few of the women were critical of their mothers or themselves for not meeting appropriate cultural standards of care. All the women were aware of their mothers’ primary responsibilities for caring for their disabled siblings. Alison, 32, stated, “Mom would get up at 5:00 in the morning, go to the hospital, and come home at 11:30 at night. That is what she [did] every day.” Claire, 21, acknowledged her mother’s caregiving responsibilities as well: “My mom cared for Karen the most. She’s definitely the one who takes the most active interest in her life.” Linda, 49, said, “Dad was the outsideworld-person. Mom was the family-and-schoolperson. And, they really imposed a lot of responsibility on my older sister.” Shirley, 45, said, “When Dad worked, Mom did everything. Then, when he retired, he helped as well.” Esther, 82, described her mother’s efforts to care for her sister with Down syndrome, “I can remember how ill she was and how Mom would be up night after night with her.” Half of the women described their sibling relationships as being similar to a mother-child relationship. Though Alison, 32, did not provide direct care for her sister, she thought of her relationship with her sister as “a parent-child relationship. We used to joke around that my little sister had four moms and half a dad!” Janet, 54,

188

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

explained, “I was really there for my mom. I was the oldest and the mother figure for Carol and my brother.” Debbie, 44, stated, “I was kind-of a mother. I was real protective of her.” Lisa, 39, said of her relationship with Stacey: “It is not a sibling thing. If something happens and my mom is not available, I take over mom’s role.” Lisa discussed her struggle to fulfill her care obligations while wishing to be free from responsibility, a sentiment shared by several women in the sample. As the eldest daughter, only she and her mother were responsible for the complex procedures required to feed Stacey. She said, “I did have difficulty with that sometimes.” She said of her life as a teenager, “You have the fine line between knowing [your mother] needs help, knowing you’re the only one who can do it, and wanting to be a kid and have your freedom. There is that internal battle that goes on.” Though all the women emphasized their own and their mothers’ responsibility, they also de-emphasized their brothers’ and fathers’ responsibility for providing care. Janet, 54, explained, “My dad was a salesman at the time. He would take off Monday morning and didn’t come home until Friday night. He was a typical male, especially of that generation. They only helped if the woman got upset.” When questioned about her father’s involvement with her sister’s care, Claire, 21, said, “My dad is extremely busy. For a long time, he wasn’t spending time with Karen. He just kind of forgot.” Lisa, 39, explained, “Only my mom and I fed Stacey. Nobody else would. All the rest were boys. They wouldn’t bother. My dad didn’t handle it very well. I never really expected the boys to handle it because my dad didn’t.” Elizabeth, 57, pointed out that she did not shirk her responsibilities for her sister in the way that her brother had: “It wasn’t easy. It is hell some days. In my view, I had no choice. I could never have walked away from her like my brother did.” Debbie, 44, recalled that her teenage brothers did not help with her sister’s care in any way. She stated, “I don’t remember them being around at all.” Joan, 44, recalled, “There is no question that I am closest to Bob. My brother was very embarrassed by him most of his life.” Though Joan and her brother were in the same circumstances, she excused him for not knowing how to cope “because he is a boy.”

Many of the women struggled to reconcile their own and their mother’s actual caregiving behaviors with their high standards of care. Joan, 44, and Lisa, 39, for example, were faced with the possibility in the near future of having to care full-time for their siblings with disabilities. They both had high standards for providing care, but neither felt that they could meet these standards. Joan was ambivalent about her brother’s almost lifelong institutionalization and her reluctance to care for him. Lisa discussed her future role as caregiver for her sister but explained that she cannot be like her mother: “My mother would never have done anything to send Stacey away. She didn’t talk about it—she just dealt with it. She doesn’t complain.” She further explained, “I am supposed to take responsibility for her, but I have told my parents that I may need to put her somewhere.” Debbie, 44, reconciled her struggle between wanting to care for her sister herself and wanting to have freedom from the burden by emphasizing the positive qualities of living in a group home. “I came around to thinking that she has the right to an independent life.” A few women complained about their mothers’ efforts. For example, Janet, 54, found fault with her mother’s desire to “do it all” and to “make all the decisions” related to Carol. When discussing her mother’s attempts to involve her with the care of her brother, Linda, 49, explained, “My mom was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t! At first I felt like I was separated [from his care] and then I didn’t want to be responsible for him.” Within a patriarchal sociocultural context, the women struggled to reconcile their beliefs that they and their mothers were indeed responsible for family care with the knowledge that they and their mothers could not always meet the high standards of care associated with their responsibilities. They did not question, however, the legitimacy of sociocultural rules that require women, and not men, to provide care for family members with disabilities. We found this particularly intriguing because six of the women in our study were highly successful career women. They were engaged in nontraditional work and family roles, but they maintained traditional beliefs about care for family members with disabilities. This finding suggests that having family members with developmental disabilities may

14. Nondisabled Sisters Navigating Sociocultural Boundaries of Gender and Disability

make it difficult for women to question gendered family roles, at least as these roles relate to members with disabilities.

MAKING SENSE OF THE STUDY Goffman (1963) describes persons who are wise as those who are willing to adopt the stigmatized person’s standpoint and share the belief that “he [or she] is human and ‘essentially’ normal in spite of appearances” (p. 20). The women in this study were wise, though their paths toward wisdom were filled with ambivalence and struggle. They were not “naturally” wise and compassionate. Instead, they worked hard to care for and about their siblings within a dominant moral order that undervalues individuals with disabilities. These sisters told stories that were counter to the dominant moral order by suggesting that their siblings were “regular” siblings. The sisters also put forward the idea that they and their families were morally enhanced by their rejection of the dominant moral order. The sisters’ stories also highlight the ideas that to be a good sister one must (a) minimize personal consequences related to having a sibling with a disability and (b) be responsible for providing care to that sibling. Because of the nature of this qualitative study, we do not know if the sisters actually provided more care to their siblings than, for example, their brothers. We do know, however, that they consistently drew from a moral order that requires women—but not men—to provide care for individuals with disabilities. Indeed, they situated themselves firmly within the confines of this discourse. Why were these nondisabled sisters able to articulate a countercultural story related to disability and not to gender? Perhaps similar to Hays’s (1996) view that the ideology of intensive mothering is a form of cultural opposition to the ideology of rationalized market work, the ideology of sisterhood may be a form of cultural opposition to discourse that devalues people with disabilities.

REFLECTING ON THE PROCESS OF CONDUCTING FEMINIST RESEARCH Feminist and disability rights philosophies provided a roadmap to investigate both the empowering

189

and the constraining aspects of nondisabled sisters’ lives with siblings with developmental disabilities. These philosophies allowed us to take women’s family ties seriously and to elevate their experiences to a worthy scholarly pursuit. Through this project, we learned how some women articulate oppositional values to mainstream beliefs about who is important and worthy of respect. Mainly, though, we learned that family life continues to reflect the larger patriarchal sociocultural milieu within which it is embedded (Osmond & Thorne, 1993). A feminist methodological approach also allowed us more freedom to create less oppressive and more respectful relationships with participants and with each other. Communicating our approach to a larger, more mainstream audience, however, has been challenging. Using alternative epistemological and theoretical tools has meant that we have had to explain in more detail how our work is situated among predominant theories in the field. One reviewer, for example, suggested that we use a life course theoretical approach rather than a feminist social constructionist one. This reviewer and others plainly stated to us that a feminist approach has inherent biases (as if traditional perspectives do not). We were criticized by feminist reviewers as well. Some feminists were bothered by our suggestion that ideology related to being a good sister can bring about resistance to stigmatizing beliefs about individuals with disabilities. These reviewers argued that we were being sentimental about our data. We think, however, that our finding is provocative. We were able to discern this pattern because of a focus on the intersectionality of gender and disability. We have had challenges convincing family scholars of the importance of funding further research in this area as well. For example, our aim is to bring about greater understanding of social hierarchies related to gender and disability within the context of adult sibling ties in order to promote greater social justice for these siblings. Reviewers of our grant proposals, however, tend to focus on the quality of sibling caregiving ties and on how nondisabled siblings can be better supported in their efforts to provide care to their siblings with developmental disabilities. We have had to work hard to communicate our alternative agenda to this audience, and our efforts have resulted in limited success.

190

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

Perhaps it is important to share that this research project was conducted without financial support for Lori. This fact provided the context in which she felt freer to pursue her own interests, but it also limited how much she could accomplish. Even with this substantial constraint, we believe the project has brought us opportunities to pursue creative work that is potentially transformative of society. We will continue to strive to recognize the value of care and to restructure our political and social institutions to reflect that care is a central concern of human life, not a concern only for women or for the least well-off in our society.

REFERENCES Acker, J., Barry, K., & Esseveld, J. (1983). Objectivity and truth: Problems in doing feminist research. Women’s Studies International Forum, 6, 423–435. Allen, K. R. (2000). A conscious and inclusive family studies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 4–17. Baber, K. M., & Allen, K. R. (1992). Women and families: Feminist reconstructions. New York: Guilford Press. Blumer, H. (1969). Symbolic interactionism: Perspective and method. Berkley: University of California Press. Bogdan, R., & Taylor, S. J. (1994). The social meaning of mental retardation: Two life stories. New York: Teachers College Press. Bruner, J. (1986). Actual minds: Possible worlds. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Chow, E. N. (1987). The development of feminist consciousness among Asian American women. Gender & Society, 1, 284–299. Dill, B. T. (1988). Our mothers’ grief: Racial ethnic women and the maintenance of families. Journal of Family History, 13, 415–431. Ferree, M. M. (1991). Feminism and family research. In A. Booth (Ed.), Contemporary families: Looking forward, looking back (pp. 103–121). Minneapolis, MN: National Council on Family Relations. Fleischer, D. Z., & Zames, F. (2001). The Disability Rights Movement: From charity to confrontation. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Fonow, M. M., & Cook, J. A. (1991). Back to the future: A look at the second wave of feminist epistemology and methodology. In M. M. Fonow & J. A. Cook (Eds.), Beyond methodology (pp. 1–15). Indianapolis: Indiana University Press. Foucault, M. (1990). The use of pleasure: The history of sexuality. New York: Vintage Books. Freire, P. (2003). Pedagogy of the oppressed, 30th anniversary edition. New York: Continuum. Gavey, N. (1989). Feminist poststructuralism and discourse analysis: Contributions to a feminist psychology. Psychology of Women Quarterly, 13, 459–475. Gergen, K. J. (1999). An invitation to social construction. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Giddens, A. (1984). The constitution of society. Berkeley: University of California Press. Goffman, E. (1963). Stigma: Notes on the management of a spoiled identity. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall. Goldberg, A. E., & Allen, K. R. (2007). Imagining men: Lesbian mothers’ perceptions of male involvement during the transition to parenthood. Journal of Marriage and Family, 69, 352–365.

Gubrium, J. F., & Holstein, J. A. (1993). Phenomenology, ethnomethodology, and family discourse. In P. G. Boss, W. J. Doherty, R. LaRossa, W. R. Schumm, & S. K. Steinmetz (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theories and methods: A contextual approach (pp. 651–672). New York: Plenum Press. Gubrium, J. F., & Holstein, J. A. (2000). Analyzing interpretive practice. In N. K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.), Handbook of qualitative research (2nd ed., pp. 487–508), Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Harding, S. (1987). Introduction: Is there a feminist method? In S. Harding (Ed.), Feminism and methodology (pp. 1–14). Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Hays, S. (1996). The cultural contradictions of motherhood. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Hillyer, B. (1993). Feminism and disability. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press. hooks, b. (1984). Feminist theory: From margin to center. Boston: South End Press. Hooyman, N. R., & Gonyea, J. (1995). Feminist perspectives on family care: Policies for gender justice. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Huberman, A. M., & Miles, M. B. (1994). Data management and analysis methods. In N. K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.), Handbook of qualitative research (pp. 428–444). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Jones, J. (1995). Labor of love, labor of sorrow: Black women, work and the family, from slavery to the present. New York: Vintage Books. Kvale, S. (2006). Dominance through interviews and dialogues. Qualitative Inquiry, 12, 480–500. LaRossa, R., & Reitzes, D. C. (1993). Symbolic interactionism and family studies, In P. G. Boss, W. J. Doherty, R. LaRossa, W. R. Schumm, & S. Steinmetz (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theories and methods: A contextual approach (pp. 135–162). New York: Plenum Press. Lather, P. (1988). Feminist perspectives on empowering research methodologies. Women’s Studies International Forum, 11, 569–581. Lather, P. (1991). Getting smart: Feminist research and pedagogy with/in the postmodern. New York: Routledge. Link, B., & Phelan, J. (2001). Conceptualizing stigma. Annual Review of Sociology, 27, 363–385. Lloyd, M. (2001). The politics of disability and feminism: Discord or synthesis? Sociology, 35, 715–728. McGraw, L. A., Zvonkovic, A. M., & Walker, A. J. (2000). Studying postmodern families: A feminist analysis of ethical tensions in work and family research. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 68–77. Moraga, C., & Anzaldúa, G. (1983). This bridge called by back: Writings by radical women of color. New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press. Nielsen, J. M. (1990). Introduction. In J. M. Nielsen (Ed.), Feminist research methods: Exemplary readings in the social sciences (pp. 1–37). San Francisco: Westview Press. Noddings, N. (1984). Caring, a feminine approach to ethics and moral education. Berkeley: University of California Press. Osmond, M. W., & Thorne, B. (1993). Feminist theories: The social construction of gender in families and society. In P. G. Boss, W. J. Doherty, R. LaRossa, W. R. Schumm, & S. Steinmetz (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theories and methods: A contextual approach (pp. 591–622). New York: Plenum Press. Parsons, T. (1951). The social system. New York: Free Press. Rubin, H. J., & Rubin, I. S. (1995). Qualitative interviewing: The art of hearing data. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Sewell, W. H. (1992). A theory of structure: Duality, agency, and transformation. American Journal of Sociology, 98, 1–29. Smith, C. (2003). Moral, believing animals. New York: Oxford University Press. Smith, D. E. (1987). The everyday world as problematic: A feminist sociology. Boston: Northeastern University Press. Spillman, L. (2002). Introduction: Culture and cultural sociology. In L. Spillman (Ed.), Cultural sociology (pp. 1–15). Malden, MA: Blackwell.

14. Nondisabled Sisters Navigating Sociocultural Boundaries of Gender and Disability Strauss, A., & Corbin, J. (1990). Basics of qualitative research: Grounded theory procedures and techniques. Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Stroman, D. F. (2003). The disability rights movement. New York: University Press of America. Taylor, S. J. (2000). “You’re not a retard, you’re just wise”: Disability, social identity, and family networks. Journal of Contemporary Ethnography, 29, 58–92. Thompson, L. (1992). Feminist methodology for family studies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 54, 3–18. Thompson, L. (1995). Teaching about ethnic minority families using a pedagogy of care. Family Relations, 44, 129–135. Thompson, L., & Walker, A. J. (1989). Gender in families: Women and men in marriage, work, and parenthood. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 51, 845–871. Thorne, B. (1992). Feminist rethinking of the family: An overview. In B. Thorne (with M. Yalom) (Ed.), Rethinking the family: Some feminist questions (pp. 1–24). New York: Longman.

191

Traustadottir, R. (1991). Mothers who care: Gender, disability, and family life. Journal of Family Issues, 53, 211–228. Traustadottir, R. (2000). Disability reform and women’s caring work. In M. H. Meyer (Ed.), Care work: Gender, labor and the welfare state (pp. 249–269). New York: Routledge. Walker, A. J., & Thompson, L. (1984). Feminism and family studies. Journal of Family Issues, 5, 545–570. Weedon, C. (1997). Feminist practice and poststructuralist theory (2nd ed.). Malden, MA: Blackwell. Wendell, S. (1996). The rejected body: Feminist philosophical reflections on disability. New York: Routledge. Westkott, M. (1979). Feminist criticism of the social sciences. Harvard Educational Review, 49, 422–430. Wheatley, E. E. (1994). Dances with feminists: Truths, dares, and ethnographic stares. Women’s Studies International Forum, 17, 421–423.

15 WORKING-CLASS FATHERHOOD AND MASCULINITIES IN CONTEMPORARY JAPAN M ASAKO I SHII -K UNTZ

M

any social stratification studies in contemporary Japan recognize occupational status, blue-collar versus white-collar jobs, for distinguishing among and between classes (e.g., Hashimoto, 2003; Ishida, 1989; Roberson, 1998; Sugimoto, 1997). Japanese working-class men and women are generally considered as “having lower educations, incomes, home ownership, investment, and luxury possessions” (Roberson, 2003:128). According to Ishida (1993), firm size is also a “factor differentiating employees within classes” (p. 224). This is particularly important with respect to child care policies. The 1992 revision of the Child Care and Family Care Leave Law allowed fathers, for the first time, to take child care leave from work. Initially, this law did not apply to employees of firms with fewer than 30 workers, but the 2005 revision of the law granted child care leave for all employees. In reality, however, it is extremely difficult for bluecollar workers to take this leave mainly because of the difficulties associated with finding substitute workers. Therefore, working-class men, in general, find it much more difficult to be involved in child care than their middle-class counterparts. Many working-class men are thus 192

forced to walk on a tightrope balancing their demanding jobs and child-caring activities. For the past 16 years, I have worked to develop feminist perspectives on marginalized men by centering my efforts on a topic of child-caring corporate fathers in Japan (Ishii-Kuntz, 1992, 1994, 1996, 2003, 2007; Ishii-Kuntz & Maryanski, 2003). Most of these fathers belonged to an advocacy group called “Men and Women for Child Care Hours Network” (Ikujiren in Japanese). Most recently, however, recognizing the gap between middle- and working-class fathers in various dimensions related to child care, I came to focus on workingclass men and their participation in child care and housework. In this chapter, I will first identify feminist theoretical lenses that influenced my fatherhood research, present my most recent study on working-class fathers in Japan, and describe my journey into feminist research in family studies.

THEORETICAL LENSES Transnational Feminism My theorizing about and execution of the project on Japanese fatherhood was influenced

15. Working-Class Fatherhood and Masculinities in Contemporary Japan

by burgeoning transnational feminist theory (Keck & Sikkink, 1998; Naples & Desai, 2002; Walby, 2005) as well as by Japanese feminisms (Inoue, 1994; Inoue, Ehara, & Ueno, 1995; Takemura, 2002). Feminist theories generally attempt to explain the ways in which gender does and ought to influence our conceptions of knowledge and practices of inquiry and justification. However, we need to recognize that many feminist frameworks have been constructed using mostly Western or Euro-American lenses. That is, it is highly possible that many feminist theories are specific to the contexts of the West. Transnational feminism, in resistance to the dominant vis-à-vis Western feminist perspectives, brings about a border shifting that allows for the emergence of transnational dialogues among feminists worldwide. In this sense, transnational feminism is referred to as borderless feminism (Mohanty, 2003). In the context of the global hegemony of Western feminist scholarship, transnational feminism critiques the creation of a universal notion of patriarchy and emphasizes that women’s struggles must be understood in relation to historic, cultural, political, and economic contexts that may be specific to each society and culture (Kim-Puri, 2005). By incorporating this intersectional principle of transnational feminism, I seek to understand experiences of child caring by marginalized working-class fathers as they are influenced by a wide array of axes, including economic and familial factors specific to the Japanese cultures and subcultures. Viewing Japanese fathers’ child-caring experiences from transnational feminist perspectives allows me to not only emphasize the specificity of some Japanese cases but also be critical of conventional U.S. approaches to studying fathers’ participation in child care and housework. For example, one dominant theory in this arena, relative resources theory, predicts that husbands’ greater income and education relative to wives’ are associated with lower levels of men’s involvement in housework and child care. This theory assumes that both husbands and wives value these resources thus rendering differential marital power that is used in calculating how much “nonpaid” housework and child care men and women should do at home. However, it can be argued that what is considered “valuable” in this theory is a reflection of the dominant societal

193

value in which education and income are considered as a human capital. This basic assumption may not be valid in Japanese cases. For example, some men, including Ikujiren members, do not necessarily consider their income and education as valuable resources. Rather, my interviews with them often reveal that they not only devalue these resources but also actively deny the importance of them (IshiiKuntz, 2003). For Ikujiren men, their income is nothing more than what provides them with food and other daily necessities. This is also reflected by their Ganbaranai-ism (not devoted to their paid jobs) lifestyle, which is quite a contrast to many Japanese salarymen (salaried male employees, salarie-man in Japanese) who believe that the most important role for men is that of providing (Ishii-Kuntz, 2003). In case of Ikujiren men, therefore, having more resources cannot be equated with greater marital power, and, consequently, relative resources theory fails to explain the level of their involvement in housework and child care. Therefore, conventional theories in fatherhood research in the United States may not be applicable to fathers in different cultural contexts. Japanese Feminisms Japanese feminisms also guided my research on working-class fathers. Feminism that shaped modern history of the Japanese women’s movement can be traced back to the Meiji era of the 1880s (see Tomida, 1996). Despite its long history, the movement remained small and network based with no national umbrella organization (Yamaguchi, 2008). Inspired partly by the United Nations’ International Women’s Year in 1975, Japanese scholarly attention and public recognition on feminism greatly increased since the mid-1970s. Although there have been instances of backlash by conservative Japanese against the shift toward egalitarian gender roles in recent years (Nakamura & Arita, 2006), engaging debates and discussions on Japanese feminisms continue today. According to Takemura (2000), Japanese feminism refers to a critical analysis of social relationships by deconstructing “female” and “male” categories and critiquing heterosexism that prevents individuals from free thinking and activities. Located somewhere at the junction of First World/Third World and East-West binaries,

194

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

Japanese feminisms cannot be easily placed in standard categories of Western feminisms. Furthermore, unlike feminists in the West, Japanese counterparts refuse to articulate their activism using a single collective label such as “feminist” (Yamaguchi, 2008), reflecting unique mode of Japanese feminisms. While feminists in Japan have published widely on the problems of patriarchy, it should be noted that there are no dominant feminist theories in Japan. Instead, criticism of the patriarchal family system features in some mainstream Japanese feminist discourse. Feminists’ challenges against the patriarchy was further accelerated as the governmental efforts to promote fathers’ participation in child care were revealed in the late 1990s (Ishii-Kuntz, 2003). Some feminists considered this a great opportunity to promote gender equality, and thus actively engaged in the development of the 1999 Basic Law for a Gender Equal Society, whereas others criticized the government for promoting fathers’ participation in child care as a means to stop declining birthrates rather than strictly promoting egalitarian gender roles at home. This type of demographic trend features prominently in Japanese feminist analyses of work and family. This familycentered framework of Japanese feminisms guided my own research on actively involved fathers who experience marginalization and oppression because they do not perform ideal hegemonic masculine roles that have been constructed and maintained through breadwinning roles for their families (Ishii-Kuntz, 2003). Using transnational feminist perspectives that take into account specific intersectionalities of a society (such as Japan) and Japanese feminisms with their challenges against patriarchy, I attempt to explain how working-class men construct their nonhegemonic roles based on their daily activities of child caring and homemaking. I also feel that the application of feminist perspectives in my fatherhood research empowers my research participants, and, as a result, challenges gender inequalities in Japanese society. Insider-Outsider Status Given these theoretical perspectives that have guided my research, it is important to note how my own subjectivity and positions also influenced my research project. In conducting

fatherhood research, I bring my own experiences and background into the role of researcher and the research process. For example, as a female scholar studying fathers, I acknowledge my interpretations, biases, and experiences, all of which become an integral part of my research process and its outcomes. Additionally, a feminist researcher may be both insider and/or outsider to the environment and topic she or he is exploring. As insider, one has a stronger understanding of the dynamics and play of social relationships that inform the situation under investigation. In contrast, a feminist researcher who lives outside the situation being examined may also be able to change the imbalance of the power relations with research participants. By not belonging to a group under study, the researcher may be perceived as neutral and may be given certain information not available to an insider. Having to explain personal experiences and feelings to an outsider also allows participants the space to critically assess their own lived realities. Based on my own life experiences, I consider myself as both an insider and an outsider for fathers in my study in multiple ways. I am an insider, having lived with a father who is much like the men in my sample; but at the same time, I am an outsider because I am not a father myself. I am an insider for my sample fathers because I grew up in Japan, having learned the language and cultural nuances, but I am also an outsider, being educated and having lived in the United States. Additionally, my return to Japan to teach and do research after years of living and working in the United States creates another dimension of insider-outsider dynamics. In our casual conversations at the beginning of interviews, some men asked me why I decided to return to Japan. After my responses, I often sensed that my participants felt at ease knowing that my return has a lot to do with my devotion to Japanese family policy reforms. To these fathers, I became more of an insider with my efforts to better their lives. Overall, my insider and outsider knowledge of fatherhood as well as being a woman helped me understand the marginality of my research participants and their advocacy efforts for shared parenting in Japan. Gender of the interviewer, the same or different from that of the interviewee, makes a difference to the content of the completed interview (Padfield & Procter,

15. Working-Class Fatherhood and Masculinities in Contemporary Japan

1996). Because I was able to solicit fathers’ active participation in interviews, I felt that my position as a cultural insider increased the degree of endogeny, which refers to the psychological extent to which I can be considered a legitimate insider to my informants (see Few, Stephens, & RouseArnett, 2003; Nelson, 1996). As a result, my position as an outsider due to my gender became of secondary importance to many of these men. Most important, however, in line with Miles and Crush (1993), repeated interviews and conversations between these fathers and myself eventually resulted in the personal relations that are not reducible to the insider-outsider dimensions.

SALARYMEN AND WORKING-CLASS FATHERS IN JAPAN How Feminist Perspective Is Translated Into Methodology Feminist theories and perspectives are translated into the type of methodology I use. First, feminist research must not be abstract and removed from the subject of investigation but instead must have a commitment to working toward societal change (Fox & Murry, 2000). This perspective helped me shape my action-oriented research on Ikujiren fathers. By understanding their experiences and concerns, and participating in Ikujiren-sponsored events, my research on these men explored various ways to advocate for sharing parental responsibilities. During the 5-year span of my Ikujiren research, I conducted numerous in-depth interviews, attended their monthly meetings, participated in Ikujiren-sponsored workshops and symposia, traveled to Norway and Sweden with the members to learn about gender-equal policies, lobbied for a policy change, walked with them in a parade on Japan’s Women’s Day, and translated a part of their homepage into English. Leslie and Sollie (1994) point out that the entire picture of research participants’ thoughts and activities is most likely to be revealed when multiple views or methods are incorporated. I believe that my participation in multiple levels of Ikujiren activities allowed me to better understand social positions, individual concerns and thoughts, and advocacy efforts of the group members. In addition, my interviews with them were conducted mostly at their homes

195

where they were surrounded with their children to preserve the context of the phenomenon under investigation (Leslie & Sollie). Whenever possible, I also made my research participants aware of my main research objective to critically examine child care policies and my commitment to help create a more father-friendly workplace. By so doing, fathers in my study and I became interdependent, needing each other to deconstruct the privileged masculinity of salarymen in Japan. Second, feminist perspectives increased my attentiveness to the use and analysis of verbal and nonverbal language. This means that I had to carefully listen to the words, meanings, and expressions to understand how these men construct and articulate their experiences and realities. This is particularly challenging in Japanese language, which includes many indirect words and gendered expressions. For example, during my interviews, I became aware of Ikujiren men using the word paatona (partner) to refer to their wives instead of the commonly used word kanai (a person inside the home). This is a deliberate attempt of these men to express equal partnership with their spouses. However, the meaning behind such a word may be overlooked unless careful attention is paid to research participants’ use of the language. Feminist perspectives also make it clear that a language does not equally value women and men because it reflects male power and male control (hooks, 1984). Ehrlich (2001) states that language shapes or constructs our notions of reality rather than labeling that reality in any transparent and straightforward way. DeVault (2002) also points out that women use a language not their own to articulate their reality. She uses the term translate to illustrate the process women experience when trying to use language to convey their perspectives. Listening to how women use language to translate their experiences as women is important to feminist research. Similarly, I argue that how marginalized men such as those of Ikujiren use language to convey their nontraditional views becomes central to understand how they give meaning to their child-caring experiences. Therefore, feminist perspectives are translated into a careful listening and analysis of a language that shapes the words, concepts, and stereotypes of society, and, in turn, also shapes actions, behaviors, and expectations.

196

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

Salaryman Masculinity and Marginalization of Child-Caring Fathers Prior to describing the experiences of workingclass fathers, it is necessary to contextualize my research on middle-class men by describing salaryman masculinity and Ikujiren men’s marginalized status within contemporary stratifying Japanese society. For the so-called postwar baby boomers who were born between the late 1940s and the early 1950s, ideal hegemonic masculinity has been constructed and maintained through salarymen’s roles. This “salaryman” masculinity has required men’s strong psychological and physical commitment to work and the providing role (Ishii-Kuntz, 2003). Although this hegemonic masculine ideology still exists in Japan, it is also important to recognize that a multiplicity of masculinities is becoming more evident. There are several reasons why the “salaryman” masculinity is undergoing a transition (Ishii-Kuntz, 2003). First, with the long-lasting economic recession, an increasing number of Japanese men are becoming dissatisfied with their jobs and the workplace (Ishii-Kuntz, 1996). Second, the labor force participation rate among women of childbearing years (25–39 years) increased from 60.2% in 1995 to 66.9% in 2005 (Statistics Bureau, 2006). As a consequence, the number of double-earner families has increased from 46% in 1995 to 53% in 2005 (Statistics Bureau), suggesting that the traditional division of household labor where a man is the sole financial provider for the family is no longer a dominant pattern in many families. Third, there has been a sharp decline in the birthrate in Japan since the 1990s. This has been partly attributed to women’s reluctance to have babies because of their husbands’ lack of participation in child care (Jolivet, 1997). As a result, the Japanese government has been promoting fathers’ involvement in child care with costly campaigns (Ishii-Kuntz, 2003). Thus, while the status of salarymen is still a source of hegemonic masculinity for many men, various economic, demographic, and attitudinal changes suggest that alternative and diverse masculinities have been emerging among younger generations of Japanese fathers. That is, for many younger Japanese men, commitment to work and the breadwinning role may no longer be the primary sources of their masculine identity. Toyoda (1997) describes how men who

are “corporate dropouts” seek alternative masculine identities in support groups by relating to their families and/or pursuing other work that is not competitive in nature. In contrast to the idealized salaryman who spends little time outside his work, a family man who actively participates in child care and housework may be identified by those in power as manifesting a marginalized masculinity. However, this does not presuppose that these marginalized men are unable to define themselves as masculine. Therefore, the emergence of alternative masculinities in contemporary Japan is significant for younger men who actively engage in child care because it empowers them with more choices for diverse masculinities. Working-Class Fathers My research on Ikujiren fathers mostly explored middle-class salarymen fathers’ involvement in child care and housework. Many of these fathers have taken child care leave that could be granted to employees of larger-sized companies and civil workers. Therefore, most of these men are “privileged” in a sense that they can “afford” to take advantage of a child care leave and other arrangements such as flexible work hours. Having studied this “elite” group of fathers, my interest in studying working-class fathers grew out of two different occasions. One was the interview with a Ikujiren father, Mr. Matsui, who was self-employed as a massage therapist and whose wife worked at a bank. When asked about how he took care of his child, he said, I had to carry the baby on my back while I gave massage to my client. This was not an easy job and hurt my back a lot. I was the one who needed massage therapy by the end of the day.

Unlike other Ikujiren members, Mr. Matsui’s comments made me aware of the challenges faced by men who are not entitled to, or have difficulties in, taking child care leave. The other occasion came from the Ikujirensponsored Father’s Day symposium where I had a chance to meet fathers of the Child Caring Men’s Group (Otoko no Kosodate o Kangaeru Kai, in Japanese), who were invited to perform short skits at this event. Interestingly, their skits were about working-class fathers’ struggles to

15. Working-Class Fatherhood and Masculinities in Contemporary Japan

take care of their children despite the demanding work hours. Between their scripted words, I noticed some sarcastic remarks about the “elitism” of Ikujiren fathers, most of whom were employed by large corporations. I felt that they were sending the message that the difficulties Ikujiren fathers experienced were nothing compared with the challenges that these workingclass fathers faced in attempting to care for their children. The interview with Mr. Matsui and my encounter with Child Caring Men’s Group members made me acutely aware of the class disparities and inequities of paternal involvement in Japan. Demographic and cultural diversity with respect to fathers’ involvement in child care and housework has been a topic of many studies in the United States (e.g., Arendell, 1995; Braver & O’Connell, 1998; Fine, Ganong, & Coleman, 1997; Marsiglio & Cohan, 1997; McLanahan & Carlson, 2004). However, most of the fatherhood studies in Japan focus on middle-class fathers (e.g., Ishii-Kuntz, Makino, Kato, & Tsuchiya, 2004), overlooking the classbased diversity of fathers’ experiences in child care. Research into diverse fathers’ experiences in Japan was, therefore, sorely needed. What is described below is my most recent research on these working-class fathers in Japan to explore how they balance work demands and child care without having built-in support structures. Through my interviews and observations of fathers in the Child Caring Men’s Group, I hope to show how these fathers manage child care responsibilities and how a class-based masculinity is reproduced in their everyday life. Child Caring Men’s Group Being influenced by the 1970s Women’s Liberation Movement in Japan, Child Caring Men’s Group was founded in 1978 by five fathers who wanted to “reevaluate their work-centered lives.” It is perhaps the oldest fathers’ group in Japan, preceding the formation of Ikujiren in 1980. They call for men to reconstruct their own identities by being involved in child care and housework. The members are mostly workingclass fathers who attend their monthly meetings, perform short skits at various fatherhood events, sponsor workshops for fathers, and publish books on men’s child care. Between 2006 and 2007, I interviewed seven members of this

197

group, and five other child-caring fathers who were introduced by these members. All these men in their late 20s to mid-30s have bluecollar jobs in Tokyo area, and their wives are employed full-time. All but three fathers are high school graduates and the rest graduated from junior high school. This is quite a contrast to Ikijiren fathers, most of whom are graduates from the elite universities in Japan. Their children’s ages range from newly born to 10 years old. These interviews were conducted at their homes and lasted from 45 minutes to 1 hour, and I tape-recorded, transcribed, and translated them into English. Fathering Experiences Work is one of the central contexts of everyday experience for all these men. The typical day for these men begins between 7 a.m. and 8 a.m. and ends between 9 p.m. and 10 p.m. More than half of these fathers work on Saturday mornings thus leaving them only one and a half days off in a week. During the peak season of their work, some of these fathers worked from early morning hours to midnight. One wonders then how they find time to take care of their children. Mr. Nagai’s (a 30-year-old father of two children aged 2 and 4) response exemplifies how they are involved in child care despite their demanding work hours: I have been working for a factory that makes purification machines. I leave home at 7 in the morning and come back between 8 and 9 p.m. I am in a better position compared to some of my coworkers who work late. I used to work late but ever since we had our first child, I decided to come back home a little earlier because I wanted to take care of our kids. I usually bathe our kids at night and play with them a little bit whenever I have some energy left. Although I cannot spend a lot of time with them on weekdays, I tried to take care of them as much as I can on weekends. Between my work and taking care of kids, I have no time to do anything else.

Challenges experienced by Mr. Nagai were echoed by other fathers who were concerned about “not having enough time to be with the kids,” and “being too tired at night to take care of our baby.” For some men, taking care of their children seemed to be a consequence of having little monetary freedom. Younger families in my

198

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

sample were unable to afford outside child care due to relatively low wages, thus demanding fathers’ presence at home. These men also candidly talked about how their wives’ wages contributed to the household income. Mr. Yagi, a 27-year-old factory worker and a father of an infant, frankly admitted that his wife, who worked as a nurse, made more money than he did. He feels compelled to do much of the child care, grocery shopping, cooking, and cleaning because he is fully aware that they need two paychecks to sustain “decent” living standards. Although many fathers complained about the little time they had to take care of their children, they also “felt good about” their involvement by comparing themselves with their coworkers. For example, Mr. Aita, a 33-year-old father of two toddlers, stated that he wished he could spend more time with his children; but he said, Of about 12 workers who are fathers at my construction site, I am perhaps the best Dad. Some of my fellow workers talk about how they take care of their kids but I can tell that they are just talking about it, and not really doing it because they don’t even know some names of disposable diapers, but, of course, I do.

Assuming that the blue-collar working environments tend to emphasize a “men must work” atmosphere, I was somewhat surprised by Mr. Aita’s comment. When asked about when and in what context Mr. Aita and his coworkers talk about children and child care, he explained, We talk about our work most of the time but sometimes we get tired of it, especially like lunch time, so we talk about something else. Since most of us have a “simple life” of commuting between work and home, our conversations usually shift to something like family and children that we are most familiar with.

To some of these young blue-collar workers, being a provider and an involved father simultaneously became something that they can be proud of. This is consistent with Sugimoto’s (1997) observation of Japanese blue-collar workers who find more satisfaction at home than do white-collar employees. Imamura (1987) has similarly noted that “blue-collar workers who are freed from some of the obligatory after-hours socializing” (p. 68) tend to be more family oriented than their white-collar counterparts.

In contrast to Ikujiren fathers, most of whom took child care leave from work and/or had flexible work hours arrangements, these working-class fathers tried to take care of their children by managing their time after work hours and on holidays. Another comparison can be made in terms of the context of childcaring activities. Whereas many Ikujiren men reported doing actual physical care of their children such as feeding and changing diapers, working-class fathers seemed to spend more time in intrinsically “fun” activities such as playing and napping with their children. Marginalized Masculinities Transnational feminist perspectives are useful to examine nonhegemonic masculinities of working-class fathers that may be specific to Japanese cases. They would lead us to ask the important question of how these men come to construct gendered meanings for what could conceivably be construed as nongendered activities—namely, working for pay outside the home and performing child care and household tasks. Transnational feminist perspectives push researchers to look beyond interactions within families and to recognize the impact of political and economic institutions that influence families in specific contexts. Borrowing these feminist perspectives, then, one of my research goals was to examine how working-class fathers construct and reconstruct their own masculinity through their everyday work and child care. According to Connell (1995), hegemonic masculinity reflects the dominant position of men and the subordination of women, and furthermore, the dominant position of certain men over other men. The dominant position of Japanese men is synonymous to that of salarymen’s breadwinning roles. Connell defines “marginalization” as “the relations between the masculinities in dominant and subordinated classes or ethnic groups” (pp. 80–81). In Japan, hegemonic masculinity has been equated with the ideology of middle-class, white-collar salarymen. Men’s work careers in Japan have been described as linear and predictable, starting with an entry into a prestigious university and landing onto a career path with employment security and higher income potential (Plath, 1983; Roberson, 2003). In recent years, this “escalator system” begins as early as entering a prestigious

15. Working-Class Fatherhood and Masculinities in Contemporary Japan

kindergarten with affiliated elementary, junior, and senior high schools, and university. One component contributing to hegemonic masculinity in Japan is that of higher educational attainment; thus, riding on an educational track becomes extremely important. Working-class men in my sample, however, intentionally or unintentionally, did not ride on such a track. Working-class fathers in my sample often talked about how their brains were no good to pursue further education, which, of course, is a process of self-legitimized marginalization (Roberson, 2003). Another component of hegemonic masculinity in Japan is that of “main pillar”(daikokubashira, in Japanese), head of the family and household, ideology. This component is frequently lacking among working-class men because of their employment insecurity and lower incomes (Roberson, 2003). Therefore, these working-class men’s identities and experiences, as men, are not given the same cultural legitimacy as is accorded to middle-class salarymen. At the same time, these men are excluded from core positions of control and power. For example, in the companies they worked, the business owners were described as making decisions in a unilateral and “one-man” fashion. Although marginalized from the centers of ideological and political-economic power, the working-class men I studied seem to be content with their subordinate status. For example, Mr. Ishikawa, a 32-year-old father of a 5-year-old son, who repairs cars, said, I was never interested in pursuing my education beyond junior high school. I wanted to go into the real world and make my own money in my youth. Sure, I have been doing the same old thing since I was 15 years old and probably end up doing this (car repair) until I retire. But what else can this 32-year-old man do? I have a wife and a kid, and between my wife and I, we make enough money to lead ordinary lives, if not luxurious. But having higher status and more money do not necessarily mean more happiness, right?

Mr. Ishikawa’s sentiment was also expressed by other fathers who said, “I am satisfied with my life as it is and won’t change a thing,” “I tried to find happiness in small things such as being healthy and drinking a glass of cold beer after taking a hot bath at home,” and “As they say, ue o mitemo shita o mitemo kiriganai (it is endless to compare yourself with someone higher or

199

lower than you, or ‘Cut your coat according to your cloth.’).” For these men, starting to work in their youths, earning money, and acquiring a skill were much more important and interesting than pursuing education and careers, but their actions also reproduce “working-class masculinegender trajectories” (Roberson, 2003, p. 131). Despite this self-accepted marginality, these fathers also expressed some regrets over their subordinate status and its underlying marginal masculinity but, at the same time, talked about how they could be compensated by their involvement in child care. Mr. Ikeda, a 33-yearold factory worker with two children aged 1 and 4, talked about how his involvement in child care is important for himself as well as for his children: Yes, I sometimes regret that I did not go to college but that was not even an option in my case for various reasons. I hope that our kids will go to college, though. They are still young but we started college savings for them already. You know, a great person like Ninomiya Kinjiro [a well-known Japanese philosopher and a politician in late 1700s and early 1800s who was born to a poor farming family] came from a very poor family but he succeeded in his career because he studied hard. I think if I make sure that our kids get good education, they will be able to go to college. It may be wrong for parents to rely on their kids to realize their dreams but it is much better to do what I can do now than never doing it, you know. I feel good about myself being able to closely watch our kids grow.

Whereas Ikujiren fathers are busy taking care of their children’s physical needs (e.g., feeding and bathing), working-class fathers appear to spend time with children in more interactive fashion. A few fathers talked about how they wish to coach sports teams when their sons enter elementary school, while others reported going to nearby parks so that they could play catch with their children or simply run around on the lawn. Whereas these fathers tend to engage in fun activities with their children, it is important to note that their wives who also work tended to be more of a disciplinarian to their children. This is also in stark contrast to middle-class fathers who share with their wives both disciplining and playful aspects of child rearing (Ishii-Kuntz, 2003).

200

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

My interviews reveal that these working-class fathers do not adhere to hegemonic salarymen’s masculinity, but their marginalized masculinities are constantly negotiated. On the one hand, most of them are content with their everyday work and, thus, with their subordinate positions. On the other hand, through their involvement in child care, which may result in their children’s potential success, for example, entering college, they seek to attain hegemonic masculinity. These men seem to be aware of this effort, as can be seen by their comments such as “if my kid passed the entrance exam into Tokyo University [the most prestigious university in Japan], then I can be so proud of myself as a real man.” It is thus important to understand this dynamic process of how their gendered identity is created and re-created in their daily activities of child caring. Obviously, my positionality and subjectivity are closely interfaced with feminist methodology that I have taken in this project. First, as a researcher, I am in a position to explore and better understand the struggles that these workingclass fathers are faced with in terms of their involvement in child care. My in-depth interviews and observations of working-class fathers allowed me to pursue these goals. Second, as an advocate, I am in a position to bridge my research with policies, education, and practice. I consider myself an action-oriented fatherhood researcher who wishes to actively use her research findings to promote paternal involvement across class boundaries. My intensive interview data will help me provide concrete examples of how policies and practices should be changed and improved. My subjectivity also plays an important role in choosing the methodology for my study. Having had a child-caring father, I am acutely interested in knowing how and why Japanese fathers are involved in child care and housework. Given their minority status in terms of sheer numbers, I chose qualitative methods to explore the extent of their paternal involvement, and the gendered processes of masculinity formation. Feminist praxis has allowed me to listen to these fathers carefully, to open myself for other explanations, to respect my research participants and care deeply about their lives, and to think of ways to empower them. Strengths and Challenges of Conducting Feminist Family Research My research on Japanese fathers benefited from the strengths of feminist scholarship in

several ways. First, transnational feminist perspectives allowed me to critically examine how conventional theories about paternal involvement do not take into account specific social contexts. Second, a feminist emphasis on empowering those who are marginalized fits well with my research goals. I firmly believe in conducting research that can contribute to improve the lives of the people we study. Third, the centrality of practice in feminist perspectives reshaped my research to focus on fathers who are actively involved in child care and housework rather than noninvolved fathers. This shift is based on my belief that the knowledge gained from my research must be applied in arenas of social change so as to reshape existing social conditions toward greater equality for Japanese women and men. Finally, feminist perspectives expanded my research methodology by incorporating multiple methods of data collection and careful analyses of words and expressions of the research participants. Although there are more strengths in conducting feminist research than weaknesses, a few challenges remain unsolved. In my attempt to apply transnational feminist principles and perspectives, I often wonder if I missed any specific cultural and societal elements in my research. It is easy to overlook these elements when I play an insider role to my research participants. At the same time, I also question whether my views had been influenced too much by Western feminisms because of my living in the United States for a long time. Westernbased feminism emphasizes the importance of individual elements such as self-reflexivity in scholarship (Fox & Murry, 2000) but feminisms in Japan tend to emphasize the importance of collectivistic elements because the society, as a whole, values more collectivistic ideals compared with Western societies (Ishii-Kuntz, 1989). In my interviews, therefore, I need to make certain that the collectivistic goals of my research project, rather than self-centered reflexivity in scholarship, are emphasized and understood by research participants. My challenge, therefore, is to be aware of these differences and to make sure that I am not forcing Westernbased feminism in analyzing the data collected from Japanese fathers. In addition, since I use qualitative data, a challenge in terms of data analyses involves the use of Japanese language itself. For example, I must be attentive, when analyzing Japanese fathers’ interview data, to the

15. Working-Class Fatherhood and Masculinities in Contemporary Japan

nonuse of the subjects (e.g., I, We, You) in sentences. It is relatively easy to identify the subjects in English language. However, spoken Japanese language frequently omits them. Therefore, interviewing fathers in Japanese language requires much more contextual understanding and attention compared with interviews conducted in English. Another challenge in conducting feminist research in Japan comes from so-called jenda (gender)-free backlash that has become prevalent in the past decade (Ueno, 2006). Although it is a subject of debate, “jenda free” is a Japanese expression that combines English words “gender” and “free.” It refers to the philosophy and movements that attempt to free women and men from the traditional gender ideology, and it can be translated into the English words of “gender equality.” Those who oppose the “genderfree” movement (backlashers) claim that it is difficult to diminish gender inequality because it is firmly rooted in Japanese traditions and customs. They also resort to the argument that the “gender-free” movement would destroy family values and social norms, the same argument used in opposing the law which would have allowed Japanese married couples to use separate surnames. The Governor of Tokyo, Shintaro Ishihara, even publicly commented that “genderfree” proponents are making the “grotesque” request to abandon traditional dolls displayed for Girls Day (March 3). He further stated that without gendered distinction, individual, family, and social standards could not be maintained. Given this bubbling antifeminist climate in Japan, it is a challenge to get feminist research funded by the government as well as other funding agencies and, as a consequence, to pursue feminist research. Despite these challenges, I must note that one positive result of this backlash has been a united effort of Japanese feminists to fight back these antifeminist remarks and sentiments (Ueno, 2006).

MY JOURNEY INTO FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES I firmly believe that what we choose to study is influenced by our past and present experiences that are inspiring enough for us to pursue as a research topic. Furthermore, by acquiring theoretical and methodological knowledge, tools, and skills, we make it possible to study these

201

topics of our interest. Looking back at my academic career, I went through several phases to arrive at my current research topic on fatherhood. I will first describe how I came to focus on fatherhood and then explain how I became a feminist researcher. My interests on fatherhood are rooted in my childhood experiences in Japan (see Ishii-Kuntz, 2000). Unlike any of my friends’ fathers, my father cooked most of the meals, cleaned the house, and did laundry and grocery shopping. My mother, on the other hand, worked outside and did little housework. My father also cared for me and my sister as evidenced in our childhood photo albums that are filled with his handwritten comments about the food we ate and the words we uttered. Growing up with a father like mine, I thought, in my childhood, that other fathers were also doing all kinds of housework and taking care of their children. However, my visits to friends’ houses opened my eyes. Whenever I went to their houses, it was their mothers, wearing similar white aprons, who were busy cooking meals and snacks and cleaning the house. I also remember asking one of the mothers why the father was not doing any of the housework and cooking. Her response was that her husband was too busy working outside to help with household tasks. This mother even preached to me the importance of men’s economic providing role but, at the same time, complained that she wished that her husband could help her with some of the housework. It was with this childhood background combined with my interest in family sociology that I came to study fatherhood and the division of household labor. I wanted to know why most fathers did very little housework. My earlier research thus focused on examining factors limiting men’s involvement in housework and child care. Analyzing large nationwide data sets collected in Japan and the United States, I found that practical factors such as men’s longer work hours were associated with lower levels of fathers’ involvement in housework and child care in Japan (e.g., Ishii-Kuntz et al., 2004). In the United States, we found that the level of paternal involvement is negatively associated with the amount of time fathers spend at work, and fathers’ more traditional attitudes toward gendered family roles (e.g., Ishii-Kuntz & Coltrane, 1992). Although these findings were insightful, I felt that they more or less simply explained the status quo of men’s limited roles in families.

202

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

Mies (1983) states, “The change of the status quo becomes the starting point for a scientific quest” (p. 135). I felt that my previous studies described the status quo instead of serving the interests of child-caring men and women. According to Wood (1995), we must apply the knowledge gained from feminist research to reshape existing social conditions toward gender equality for men and women. Allen and Baber (1992) also emphasize the importance of seamlessness between research findings and practice. These feminist perspectives helped me realize that my research, which began with the quest to change gender inequality at home, was mostly lacking the elements for practice and a drive for change. After all, what I wanted to know most was why fathers like mine did most of the housework and child care despite their demanding jobs and against societal expectations concerning “masculine” roles of providing. It was also my encounter with a group of fathers in Ikujiren that shifted my research attention from studying noninvolved to actively involved fathers. I felt compelled to study Ikujiren fathers because of their active involvement in advocating equal sharing of housework and child care. Talking with Ikujiren members, attending their monthly meetings, and participating in their workshops and seminars, I became convinced that understanding their activities and concerns would generate findings that have direct links to work-family policies in Japan. As I became more acquainted with Ikujiren men, many of whom felt marginalized from the mainstream Japanese society, I knew that feminist theories and methodology could better inform me about their experiences of child caring and homemaking instead of the positivist approach I was taking earlier in my career. Feminist perspectives have helped me pay special attention to gender and to challenge gender inequalities for both men and women in Japan.

CONCLUSION Through the lenses of transnational feminism and Japanese feminisms, I described child-caring experiences of working-class fathers in Japan. Transnational feminism emphasizes the importance of understanding women and other marginalized individuals as they are influenced by specific social, cultural, economic, and political

contexts. Japanese feminisms, in their struggle against patriarchy, guided my action-oriented research. Given these premises, it is not an easy task to address the implications of my findings for other cultural contexts. Having stated this, however, I will discuss how insights from my study can be applied beyond the Japanese social contexts. First, my study demonstrated the importance of understanding social, cultural, economic, and political environments in which the study subjects live. Second, despite the ongoing debates of an insider-outsider positionality of feminist researchers, my study revealed that the relationship between the researcher and the researched could not be reduced to this simple dichotomy. This relationship building may be possible beyond specific cultural and social contexts of the feminist studies. Third, my actionoriented research should be applicable within other social and cultural contexts. Although my research aimed to change and improve family policies in Japan, it is important to remind ourselves that what we learn from one society can contribute to the exchange of ideas for empowering women and marginalized men worldwide. I believe that my participation at the 2008 United Nations’ Expert Group Meeting on “The Equal Sharing of Responsibilities Between Women and Men” is a good example of how the actionoriented research such as my own can contribute to proposing policies in various cultural settings to promote gender equality in public and private spheres. My immediate goal out of this research, however, is to propose class-sensitive family policies through different governmental venues with which I am associated. Turning back to my own experience as a researcher, I must note that being a feminist in academia is challenging in many ways. Being a feminist in academia in Japan is perhaps doubly challenging given the more conservative climate regarding “gender” issues in Japanese society. After 20 years of my academic career in the United States, I moved (back) to Japan recently to teach at Ochanomizu University, a small liberal arts women’s college in Tokyo. Other than personal ones, I had several major reasons for this move. First, I wanted to be close to the lives of people I study and further contribute to change policies and practices that will empower them in some concrete ways. Second, I wanted to teach Japanese women, many of whom perhaps never had a chance of being exposed to feminisms. I am

15. Working-Class Fatherhood and Masculinities in Contemporary Japan

passionate about teaching both undergraduate and graduate students about the values of feminist theories and research methodologies. Most important, being in a society where the word “gender” is a target of criticism gives me ample opportunities to make a difference in the lives of women and subordinate men. I began my work on fatherhood with a childhood experience as a driving force. I asked the fundamental question of why other Japanese fathers are different from my father. In the process of pursuing answers for this question, I studied fathers who never or rarely spent time with their children, and middle- and workingclass fathers who were actively involved in child care. Feminisms of all types have guided my ways of theorizing and researching these topics and provided me with opportunities to change the status quo of gender inequality in Japan. Through this, I benefited from a number of my feminist friends both in the United States and Japan. Thus, my feminist journey continues, but I am not alone.

REFERENCES Allen, K. R., & Baber, K. M. (1992). Ethical and epistemological tension in applying a postmodern perspective to feminist research. Psychology of Women Quarterly, 16, 1–15. Arendell, T. (1995). Fathers & divorce. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Braver, S. L., & O’Connell, D. (1998). Divorced dads: Shattering the myths. New York: Tarcher/Putnam. Connell, R. W. (1995). Masculinities. Berkeley: University of California Press. DeVault, M. (2002). Talking and listening from women’s standpoint: Feminist strategies for interviewing and analysis. In D. Weinberg (Ed.), Qualitative research methods (pp. 88–111). Malden, MA: Blackwell. Ehrlich, S. (2001). Representing rape: Language and sexual consent. New York: Routledge. Few, A. L., Stephens, D. P., & Rouse-Arnett, M. (2003). Sister-to-sister talk: Transcending boundaries and challenges in qualitative research with Black women. Family Relations, 52, 205–215. Fine, M. A., Ganong, L. H., & Coleman, M. (1997). The relation between role constructions and adjustment among stepfathers. Journal of Family Issues, 18, 503–525. Fox, G. L., & Murry, V. M. (2000). Gender and families: Feminist perspectives and family research. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 1160–1172. Hashimoto, K. (2003). Class structure in contemporary Japan. Japanese Society Series. Melbourne, Victoria, Australia: Trans Pacific Press. hooks, b. (1984). Feminist theory: From margin to center. Boston: South End Press. Imamura, A. E. (1987). Urban Japanese housewives: At home and in the community. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press. Inoue, T. (1994). Nihon no feminism [Japanese feminism]. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. Inoue, T., Ehara, Y., & Ueno, C. (1995). Seibetu yakuwari: Nihon no feminism [Gender roles: Japanese feminism]. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten.

203

Ishida, H. (1989). Class structure and status hierarchies in contemporary Japan. European Sociological Review, 5, 65–80. Ishida, H. (1993). Social mobility in contemporary Japan: Educational credentials, class and the labour market in a cross-national perspective, London: Macmillan. Ishii-Kuntz, M. (1989). Collectivism or individualism? Changing patterns of Japanese attitudes. Sociology and Social Research, 73(4), 174–179. Ishii-Kuntz, M. (1992). Are Japanese families “fatherless”? Sociology and Sociological Research, 76(3), 105–110. Ishii-Kuntz, M. (1994). The Japanese father: Work demands and family roles. In J. C. Hood (Ed.), Men, work and family (pp. 45–67). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Ishii-Kuntz, M. (1996). A perspective on changes in men’s work and fatherhood in Japan. Asian Cultural Studies, 22(1), 91–107. Ishii-Kuntz, M. (2000). Diversity within Asian American families. In D. Demo, K. Allen, & M. Fine (Eds.), Handbook of family diversity (pp. 274–292). New York: Oxford University Press. Ishii-Kuntz, M. (2003). Balancing fatherhood and work: Emergence of diverse masculinities in contemporary Japan. In J. E. Roberson & N. Suzuki (Eds.), Men and masculinities in Japan (pp. 198–216). New York: Routledge. Ishii-Kuntz, M. (2007). Chichioya to seishonenki no kodomo no hattatsu: Chichioya wa kodomo no shakaisei ni donoyouna eikyou o ataeteirunoka [Fathers and adolescent children’s development: How do fathers influence children’s sociability?] In H. Mimizuka & K. Makino (Eds.), Tozasareta otona e no michi: Gakuryoku to transition no kiki [Closed road to adulthood: Risks of academic ability and transition] (pp. 125–142). Tokyo: Kaneko Shobo. Ishii-Kuntz, M., & Coltrane, S. (1992). Predicting the sharing of household labor: Are parenting and housework distinct? Sociological Perspectives, 35, 629–647. Ishii-Kuntz, M., Makino, K., Kato, K., & Tsuchiya, M. (2004). Japanese fathers of preschoolers and their involvement in child care. Journal of Marriage and Family, 66, 779–791. Ishii-Kuntz, M., & Maryanski, A. (2003). Conjugal roles and social networks in Japanese families. Journal of Family Issues, 24, 352–380. Jolivet, M. (1997). Japan: A childless society? New York: Routledge. Keck, M., & Sikkink, K. (1998). Activists beyond borders: Advocacy networks in internal politics. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Kim-Puri, H. J. (2005). Conceptualizing gender-sexuality-statenation: An introduction. Gender & Society, 19, 137–159. Leslie, L. A., & Sollie, D. L. (1994). Why a book on feminist relationship research? In D. L. Sollie & L. A. Leslie (Eds.), Gender, families, and close relationships: Feminist research journeys (pp. 1–15). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Marsiglio, W., & Cohan, M. (1997). Young fathers and child development. In M. E. Lamb (Ed.), The role of the father in child development (3rd ed., pp. 227–244, 373–376), New York: Wiley. McLanahan, S., & Carlson, M. S. (2004). Fathers in fragile families. In M. E. Lamb (Ed.), The role of the father in child development (4th ed., pp. 368–396). New York: Wiley. Mies, M. (1983). Towards a methodology for feminist research. In G. Bowles & R. D. Klein (Eds.), Theories of women’s studies (pp. 117–139). Boston: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Miles, M., & Crush, J. (1993). Personal narratives as interactive texts. Professional Geographer, 45, 84–94. Mohanty, C. T. (2003). Feminism without borders: Decolonizing theory, practicing solidarity. London: Duke University Press. Nakamura, A., & Arita, E. (2006, February 1). ‘Gender-free’ hard to define, harder to sell: Vague concept morphs into anythinggoes sex ed. Elicits backlash. Japan Times. Retrieved August 1, 2008, from http://search.japantimes.co.jp/cgibin/nn20060201f1.html Naples, N., & Desai, M. (2002). Women’s activism and globalization: Linking local struggles and transnational politics. New York: Routledge. Nelson, L. (1996). “Hands in the chit’lins”: Notes on native anthropological research among African American women. In G. Etter-Lewis & M. Foster (Eds.), Unrelated kin: Race and

204

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

gender in women’s personal narratives (pp. 183–199). New York: Routledge. Padfield, M., & Procter, I. (1996). The effect of interviewer’s gender on the interviewing process: A comparative enquiry. Sociology, 30, 355–366. Plath, D. W. (Ed.). (1983). Work and lifecourse in Japan. Albany: State University of New York Press. Roberson, J. E. (1998). Japanese working class lives: An ethnographic study of factory workers. New York: Routledge. Roberson, J. E. (2003). Japanese working-class masculinities; Marginalized complicity. In J. E. Roberson & N. Suzuki (Eds.), Men and masculinities in Japan (pp. 126–143). New York: Routledge. Statistics Bureau, Japan. (2006). Labor force survey. Ministry of Internal Affairs and Communications, Tokyo: Author. Sugimoto, Y. (1997). An introduction to Japanese society, Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Takemura, K. (2000). Feminism. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. Takemura, K. (2002). Transnational feminism: Seiteki sai no shozai [Location of gender differences]. Gendai Shisou, 31, 30–47.

Tomida, H. (1996). The evolution of Japanese women’s history. Japan Forum, 8, 189–203. Toyoda, M. (1997). Otoko ga otokorashisa o suteru toki [When a man abandons his manliness]. Tokyo: Asuka Shinsha. Ueno, C. (2006). Fuan na otokotachi no kimyo na rentai: Jenda free bashingu no haikei o megutte [Strange union among anxious men: Backgrounds of gender-free bashing]. In C. Ueno, S. Miyadai, T. Saito, M. Kotani, K. Suzuki, K. Goto, et al. (Eds.), Backlash: Naze Jenda Free wa Tatakaretanoka [Backlash: Why gender-free was criticized] (pp. 378–439). Tokyo: Sofu-sha. Walby, S. (2005). Gender mainstreaming: Productive tensions in theory and practice. Social Politics, 12, 321–343. Wood, J. T. (1995). Feminist scholarship and the study of relationships. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 12, 103–120. Yamaguchi, M. (2008). Who? Feminist? Gender activism and collective identity in Japan. In Thinking gender papers (pp. 1–9). Los Angeles: UCLA Center for the Study of Women.

16 RESISTING WHITENESS Autoethnography and the Dialectics of Ethnicity and Privilege L IBBY B ALTER B LUME L EE A NN D E R EUS

Lee Ann:

Hi, Libby. It’s Lee Ann. Have you checked your mail yet today?

Libby:

Yes. I can’t believe anybody would write a review like this. . . .

Libby:

Why is this person so angry?

Lee Ann:

To tell you the truth, I’m not surprised. A lot people react this way when we talk about White privilege. I think we need to reflect seriously on how to get through to readers like this!

Libby:

You’re right, you’re right. Let’s read the review again. . . .

Reviewer: The purpose of the paper is unclear to me. . . . I have real concerns about the tone and content. I know you are not really saying this, but it sounds like you are implying that anyone who is White is somehow “complicit in the oppression of non-Whites.”

Lee Ann:

That’s exactly what we were saying. . . .

Libby:

You know, a big part of the problem was that this reviewer isn’t familiar with poststructural feminist theory. Read the part where he or she wrote. . . .

Reviewer: I have no idea what you mean by “deconstructing my whiteness” or how to “relinquish power” to non-Whites. You continue to attack and say that all Whites should “self-reflect” and “interrogate” themselves as to how their whiteness gives them status and privilege over non-Whites and oppresses others. In my opinion these are very racist statements, and sounds like ivory tower elitist thinking. Lee Ann:

I don’t think this reviewer has heard of reflexive autoethnography either. We need to write a chapter on using autoethnography to deconstruct White privilege. . . .

Authors’ Note: We are grateful to Katherine Allen, April Few, and Lynet Uttal for their helpful comments on a previous version of this paper discussed at the 2006 Theory Construction and Research Methodology Workshop of the National Council on Family Relations, Minneapolis, MN. 205

206 Libby:

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY I agree, but I’m still concerned about the conflation of race and class in the reviewer’s next comment. After all, just listen to this rant. . . .

Reviewer: You two White girls admit that you are in some ways racists (you must be because you are White), and then you use your big salaries to fund two minority graduate students. Get them through their Ph.D. programs then you two retire and let them take over your jobs. Then you go to work for the janitorial or garbage collection services at the university so you can empathize and identify the non-White experience of oppression and discrimination. Lee Ann:

Well, at least the reviewer got it right about us being White, but I don’t think he or she understands what we’re trying to say about privilege. Sure, I could be a janitor; but as a White janitor, I’d still have more privilege than someone who isn’t White.

Libby:

I think the problem is that this reviewer may not agree with us that race, class, and gender are social constructions that depend on the context, the situation, to whom you’re talking. . . .

Lee Ann:

Do you think this reviewer is ascribing unearned privilege to us “White girls” because by “assisting minorities” instead of fighting racism, he or she will not have to give up some power and status? This statement is revealing. . . .

Reviewer: If you want to state that Whites have power and privilege over non-Whites and racism exists, that’s okay because it is fact. You can then make some general statements about how scholars, educators, social workers and others can recognize racism and assist minorities. Libby:

Well, I think the challenge for us in our chapter for the Handbook of Feminist Family Studies is to use autoethnographic and dialectical methods to examine White privilege in a way that’s nonthreatening, accessible, and empowering and at the same time inform readers about our topic and ourselves!

AUTOETHNOGRAPHY AS A METHOD OF FEMINIST INQUIRY In this chapter, we address three feminist goals: (a) exploring our own White ethnicities as a

project of self-discovery, (b) resisting the dominant discourse of White privilege, and (c) analyzing the dialectical tensions inherent in the social construction of whiteness. The actual conversation reconstructed above is an example of autoethnographic discourse (Ellis & Bochner, 2000; Gergen & Jones, 2008), an innovative feminist approach to our work in family studies. We were drawn to the creative possibilities of this technique and the inherent implications for a larger antiracism project in which we are engaged. At key points in this chapter, we will use autoethnographic interludes to model a dialogic structure for reflexive inquiry. As we attempt to critique our situatedness in relation to others by writing self-narratives about our own ethnicities as White women (Spry, 2001), autoethnography provides a unique and meaningful way for us as feminist scholars to better understand our racialized selves. The technique of interspersing autoethnographic dialogue provides a window into our affective and cognitive selfreflections of critical reviews by our family studies colleagues as well as a self-analysis of our complicitness in racism as White women of privilege. In other words, we have used autoethnography to critically analyze our own White privilege and to address questions such as, “What are the ways in which my whiteness and privilege intersect with my work (i.e., in interactions with clients, teaching practices and course content, research aims, and findings)?” (Blume & De Reus, 2008, p. 84). Emerging from participant observation research in the 1970s, narrative ethnography focused on the dialogue between researchers and participants. However, autoethnography starts with an account of the researcher’s own life (Tedlock, 1991). By analyzing our personal stories, we can begin to see how their content is derived from culture (Allen & Piercy, 2005). Storytelling thus becomes both a method of telling about our lives and a way of knowing or theorizing about our experiences: “There is no split between theory and story when theorizing is conceived as a social and communicative activity” (Bochner, 1997, p. 435). Autoethnographies can be based on retrospective memories, diaries and journals, or recent experiences (Ellis & Bochner, 2000). Rather than necessarily verisimilar, however, autoethnographies should be understood as partial interpretations of

16. Resisting Whiteness

authors’ lives that typically include accounts of significant events, significant turning points, and significant others (Philaretou & Allen, 2006). Starting introspectively, autoethnographers usually try to recall emotional or family experiences that they have lived through and then write that experience as a story—much as a novelist or biographer might (e.g., Lagnado, 2007; Obama, 1995; Sofer, 2007). Recently, the autoethnographic genre has expanded to include such forms as poetry, drama, theater, visual art, and photography (Richardson, 2000). In addition, “personal writing akin to evocative narrative has recently proliferated in the mainstream press, in new journalism, in creative nonfiction, and in the genres of literary memoir, autobiography, and autopathography” (Ellis & Bochner, 2000, p. 745). For example, the New York Times Magazine published an essay adapted from an author’s soon-to-be-released memoir about being a mixed-race 9-year-old at a new school: “In the hallway, on the way to class, black and white kids alike herded around me. Then the question came: ‘What are you?’ I was stumped. No one had ever asked what I was before” (Matthews, 2007, p. 74). Reflexive Autoethnography Feminist autoethnography typically begins with difficult confrontations of one’s own struggles and vulnerabilities to come to a deeper understanding of marginalized others (Allen & Piercy, 2005). To write autoethnography reflexively is to attempt to understand ourselves as persons writing from specific positions at particular times and also to reflect on our method and our own ways of understanding a pressing issue or phenomenon (Richardson, 2003). For example, Warren (2001) gradually came to see his own whiteness as he wrote evocatively about his social position as a privileged White male. Similarly, Magnet (2006) interrogated her own White privilege as a Jewish woman by writing dramatic dialogue between herself and an African American female friend to consider both “how people are positioned as dominant as well as how they are positioned as marginalized [in order] to deconstruct persisting hierarchies of oppression” (p. 736). As a method of reflexive inquiry, autoethnography privileges the exploration of self in response to questions that can only be

207

answered through thoughtful reflection on one’s own lived experience (Warren, 2001). Lee Ann’s Story: Raised on a farm in a rural Iowa setting, my notion of self as a “raced” individual was practically nonexistent. My family and community contexts were composed primarily of White middle-class people of Dutch ancestry who took great pride in their ethnic heritage. My hometown resembles a Dutch village with several windmills, a canal, and strict building codes that require authentic Dutch architecture and facades. This intentional European connectedness maintains certain Western philosophies, such as self-discovery and individualism (Levine-Rasky, 2002), which translate into a relatively closed community. The bumper sticker, “You’re not much if you’re not Dutch,” while disguised as humor, is a revealing commentary. My first experience of “othering” occurred at about age 6. While perched on the counter at a fabric store, I was transfixed by the woman with black skin who was in line behind me. My mother could not complete her purchase fast enough, for fear that I was about to say something regrettable. Her concern was realized when I suddenly pointed at the women and said, “Mommy, what’s THAT?” The “othering” didn’t stop there. In my tiny, rural elementary school (there were seven of us in my class) we played a version of “tag” called Black Man. In my Protestant Sunday school classes, at public school, and at home, I was taught what it meant to be a “good Christian,” which was also code for what it meant to be a “good girl.” Implicit in all these lessons were covert messages about being a “good White person” (European-American Collaborative Challenging Whiteness, 2005)— communicated mostly by what was NOT said. For example, good Christian White girls sing Sunday school songs with refrains such as “Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world. Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world.” The take-home message? Good Christian White girls and boys were to be thankful for what they had and to have pity on those less fortunate. Translation? Anyone not like me, my family, and my community was inferior. If I intend to be part of the antiracism project, I’d better start with the deconstruction of self!

Analytic Autoethnography Writing about the community in which we have grown up and lived “should produce writing that centers on an ongoing dialectical

208

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

political-personal relationship between self and other” (Tedlock, 2000, p. 467). Autoethnography that is analytically oriented involves a researcher who is a member of the social world under study, reflexive about his or her own actions and perceptions, and committed to being self-consciously analytic or explicitly committed to examining theoretical issues (Anderson, 2006). Furthermore, an important goal of critical feminist autoethnographers is to critique and resist the dominant cultural discourse (Ellis, 2004). As we reflect on our own lives and uncover our own cultural constraints, we become sensitized to the struggles of others, making us better feminist researchers and agents of social change (Allen & Piercy, 2005). Libby’s Story: Granddaughter of Russian-Jewish immigrants, I was raised in an all-White neighborhood in 1950s Detroit (Hartiman, 1997, 1999). My naive notion of racial integration was that Jewish, Polish, and Irish families lived side by side! While most of the Catholic children in our neighborhood attended the parish school, I was sent to Hebrew school to learn about Jewish life and culture. Although my family was not observant (except on Jewish holidays), my most significant memories of that immersion into Jewishness are the “current events” discussions when we were required to bring in newspaper clippings about Jewish experience. That was when I first discovered that Jews in America were frequently the targets of discrimination in those years just following WWII. I learned that swastikas or crosses were commonly burned into the front lawns of Jewish families in Detroit and that both Jews and African Americans were restricted from certain neighborhoods by restrictive real-estate covenants endorsed by the G. I. Bill and Fannie Mae. I became deeply conflicted. Although I was raised as a privileged daughter of middle-class, college-educated parents, was I really—under my skin—a person of color? After all, my immigrant grandparents had not “become White” through assimilation as their American-born children could (Brodkin, 1998). When my father died in 1963, we briefly joined my mother’s family in Beverly Hills 90210. Talk about privilege! But my mother couldn’t find work there, and we were not accepted in that wealthy community. Within the year, we moved back to Michigan: to an all-White, working-class suburb of Detroit, where the only African American students in my high school were bused from the nearby township. Then, in 1967, National Guard tanks rolled into Detroit.

Confused, I watched my Jewish mother take the soldiers a home-cooked meal while the streets of our former neighborhood erupted in violence! As I look back, it was at that defining moment in adolescence when I knew I had to resist my White privilege and fight with other antiracist Detroiters who, to this day, refer to that week in 1967—not as the Detroit riots—but as “the Rebellion” (see Boggs, 2007). Lee Ann: You know, before we get into what it means to resist White privilege, I think we should define what we mean by whiteness . . . . Libby:

Even scholars can’t agree! But I would argue that there is no such thing as a White “race.” It’s a fluid fiction that can only be understood in historical, economic, cultural, and relational contexts. In other words, it’s performative. I construct and perform my White identity always in relation to my context and how I think I’m perceived by others.

FEMINIST THEORETICAL PERSPECTIVES ON WHITENESS Theorizing White privilege is not a simple endeavor in a globalized world (Alcoff, 1998; Anderson, 2001; Rattansi, 1995). From a social constructionist perspective, the dominant cultural discourse (i.e., the institutional and social practices through which our experiences are organized) is seen as constituting whiteness. In the view of social construction, the social categories of “race” and “ethnicity” are context-dependent abstractions that are created in a particular culture, social location, and historical time period. Furthermore, our research suggests that social groups such as families often coconstruct these ideas—sometimes in concert with and sometimes in resistance to—the social discourses around them. Although the feminist scholars who first interrogated “White privilege” subscribed to a social constructionist orientation (see Frankenberg, 1993), many other feminist theories, such as poststructural, postcolonial, and critical race feminisms, are now becoming highly influential in guiding research on whiteness (Ahmed, 2007; Bush, 2004a; Gunew, 2007). Our goal in this chapter is to actively resist conventional categories by carefully examining

16. Resisting Whiteness

the social meanings that are often hidden within the dominant cultural discourse of “whiteness.” From a poststructural feminist perspective (see Butler, 1990, 1993), White privilege is sustained through repeated interactions with whiteness discourses, referred to as performativity. Furthermore, as we perform our whiteness, we are socially constructed by those with whom we interact. Put another way—with apologies to West and Zimmerman (1987)—being White is not doing “whiteness” (Alexander, 2004). Rather, whiteness is a product of social norms that have designated a particular skin pigment as a political signifier of privilege (Warren & Fassett, 2002). To poststructural feminists, all categories— whether racial, ethnic, or gendered—are negotiable, depending on one’s changing social and temporal location. In other words, whiteness is both fluid and contextual. “Thus, the ability to name one’s own identity empowers women and families to define themselves and to center relevant issues that may have been marginalized previously” (De Reus, Few, & Blume, 2005, p. 448). Taking into account the multiple standpoints of individuals is an experiential basis for identity-based politics. As such, feminist standpoints may either privilege or reject some or all of one’s identities to varying degrees depending on the meaning and context of an interaction with the majority culture. Poststructural feminism has been widely criticized for deconstructing feminist standpoints by assuming that identities are constantly changing. “We believe, however, that these intersecting identities do not necessarily perpetuate marginalization, subordination, or privilege. For example, Collins (1998) has suggested that individuals and the groups of which they are a part are imbued with subjugated, partial knowledges to be shared with others in an open dialogue where no one voice has more resonance or power than others” (De Reus et al., 2005, p. 454). Thus, a focus on multiple intersecting identities requires a different type of theoretical and empirical analysis than has been implemented in most family studies research. It necessitates focusing simultaneously not only on multiple identity discourses within families and society but also on the dialectical tensions within the cultural discourses of racialization. Racialization refers to the process of categorizing people on

209

the basis of racial stereotypes and hierarchies of power and privilege. To effectively theorize White privilege and how it may operate within and on families, we have to go beyond the concept of race and think “differently” about difference. Theories of Race Racial discourse in the United States extends as far back as the 1400s, when European explorers and settlers first colonized the Americas, displacing indigenous peoples. With the slave trade from Africa, a binary Black-White cultural discourse of White superiority became firmly entrenched in the United States, supported by the scientific scholarship that “race” was biologically based (McDermott & Samson, 2005; Roediger, 2005). Complicating matters even further, language equating religion and/or national origin with race (e.g., the “Jewish race” or the “Irish race”) persisted well into the 20th century (Jacobson, 1999). Many European ethnic groups who immigrated to the United States were initially considered “non-White.” When African Americans migrated from the South to seek work in the North, however, many European immigrants who previously held low positions in factories were elevated in rank as the more undesirable jobs were transferred to African Americans. Irish, Jewish, and Italian immigrant families slowly saw the benefits of being reconstructed as “White” (see Roediger, 2005, for an immigrant labor history and Brodkin, 1998, for a feminist critique of immigrant women’s family work). W. E. B. Du Bois referred to such privileges as “the wages of whiteness” (Du Bois, 1935; Roediger, 1991). Ultimately, Jews (Biale, 1998; Blumenfeld, 2006; Brodkin, 1998; Goldstein, 2006; Kaye/Kantrowitz, 1996, 2007), Irish (Ignatiev, 1995), Italians (Guglielmo & Salerno, 2003), and Asians (Zhou, 2004) became White through the interrelated socialization processes of assimilation and acculturation. In such cases, ethnicity may become “optional,” depending solely on one’s self-identification as a group member (Waters, 2007). By the mid-20th century, most White immigrant families were accorded more privilege— including eligibility for citizenship (i.e., legislated or adjudicated as legally White)— than African Americans, Native Americans, or Asian immigrants (Lee & Bean, 2004;

210

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

McDermott & Samson, 2005; Roediger, 2003, 2005; Thandeka, 2000). Today, the U.S. Census Bureau (2001) defines a White person as someone “having origins in any of the original peoples of Europe, the Middle East, or North Africa, including people who indicate their race as ‘White’ or report ethnicities such as Irish, German, Italian, Lebanese, Near Easterner, Arab, or Polish.” Oddly, this classification exists despite the now widely accepted fact that a biological definition of race has been soundly discredited, replaced by sociocultural theories of difference (American Anthropological Association, 2007). Postrace Theories A “melting pot” approach (e.g., Glazer & Moynihan, 1975) to cultural differences was popular in the United States in the 1960s and 1970s. In the 1980s and 1990s, however, the melting pot was replaced by an ethos of multiculturalism that stressed ethnicity and localism, especially in education and social activism (e.g., Fuller, 2000; Mahalingam & McCarthy, 2000). On the other hand, some recent ethnicity scholars have proposed “postethnic” or “cosmopolitan” approaches to migration and globalization patterns of postmodern cultures, in an attempt to minimize ethnic rivalries and sectarian violence (e.g., Appiah, 2005; Gilroy, 2000; Hollinger, 2000). However, they seem to discount the politics of location that is so essential to contemporary feminist theorizing (e.g., Gimenez, 2006). For example, neither homogeneneity, nor humanist, nor multiethnicity approaches have successfully eliminated the ethnic prejudice and racial discrimination of ongoing political debates, current U.S. immigration policies, and worldwide ethnic conflicts (Winant, 2004). Alternatively, some feminist theorists have proposed postpositivist realist theories (e.g., Mohanty, 1997; Moya, 2002) to retain local and situated knowledge(s) while acknowledging that those virtual “positions” are constantly changing and shifting as individuals and families negotiate multiple standpoints. Similar to feminist standpoint theorists, postpositivist realists assert that knowledge acquired in the context of oppression should be afforded “epistemic” privilege (Gilpin, 2006). In the context of racialization, epistemic privilege refers to legitimating the lived experience of racism. As Gilpin explains,

In postpositivist realist theory, understanding emerges from one’s past and present experiences and interactions as interpreted in sociopolitical contexts. Understanding, then, is relative to one’s experiences as a raced, gendered, classed, nationalized, and so forth, being. Women and other oppressed peoples are encouraged to define and articulate their social, economic, and political realities in their own terms as part of an ongoing movement to show how structural forces shape their lives and how they act on their own behalf within the context of such forces. (p. 10)

According to this perspective, identities are both constructed and real. A postrace framework requires us to “deconstruct and evolve identities in a way that does not create a composite of singular ‘racial’ identities” (Ali, 2003, p. 6). As poststructuralists, however, postrace theorists also must ask, “What . . . does this mutable notion of race mean for the foundational assumption of racial identity?” (Nayak, 2006, p. 418). Postrace theorists such as Nayak label their approach as antifoundationalist, recognizing race as a fiction that creates and retains its meaning through performance. Specifically, they claim that by interviewing only White women, Frankenberg (1993) conflated the social process of whiteness with the object of a physically white body. Because “bodies are thoroughly unreliable sources of ‘race truth’” (Nayak, p. 423), Frankenberg has unintentionally made race irreducible. In this way, Frankenberg essentialized whiteness by not recognizing that “it is not about being a White woman; it is about being thought of [and thinking of oneself] as a White woman” (Ware, 1993, p. xii). From Nayak’s (2006) perspective, the purpose of a postrace approach is to “rewrite race” (p. 424) beyond its conventional categories by employing a creative new vocabulary. For both Nayak (2006) and Ali (2003), the central question is, “How do we discuss race in a way that does not reify the very categories we are seeking to abolish?” (Nayak, p. 415). In her study of mixed-race and interethnic families, Ali (2003) challenged conventional “race” rhetoric, which severely limits the expression and understanding of mixed identifications, advocating—albeit reluctantly—a model of hybridity. The intention is to recognize multiplicity as opposed to an amalgamation of singular models of race and ethnicity. Ali came to this conclusion based on her finding that mixedrace children inhabit “multilayered, multifaceted

16. Resisting Whiteness

positionalities” (p. 171), not an “in-between space,” as is often suggested (see Walker, 2001). For example, girls and boys negotiate discourses of race, class, gender, and ability simultaneously (Ali, 2003). While the work of Ali (2003) and Nayak (2006) represents significant movement toward postrace models of identity, they both admittedly fall short because they are still confined by current language and conceptual frameworks. Brubaker (2004), however, attempts to move the discourse to new levels by considering “ethnicity without groups”: Ethnicity, race, and nation should be conceptualized not as substances or things or entities or organisms or collective individuals—as the imagery of discrete, concrete, tangible, bounded, and enduring “groups” encourages us to do—but rather in relational, processual, dynamic, eventful, and disaggregated terms. This means thinking of ethnicity, race, and nation not in terms of substantial groups or entities but in terms of practical categories, situated actions, cultural idioms, cognitive schemas, discursive frames, organizational routines, institutional forms, political projects and contingent events. It means thinking of ethnicization, racialization, and nationalization as political, social, cultural, and psychological processes. And it means taking as a basic analytical category not the “group” as an entity but groupness as a contextually fluctuating conceptual variable. (p. 11)

Brubaker does not advocate the eradication of groups with respect to ethnicity but rather seeks new conceptualizations that take the study of ethnicity beyond “groupism” (or the standard practice of using particular groups as a unit of analysis). In this respect, Brubaker and Cooper (2004) advocate the conceptualization of ethnicity as a cognitive schema and urge researchers to describe not only connectedness and “groupness” but also self-understanding and social location. As a result of these postrace perspectives, we made an intentional choice to reject the word race as a biologically based classification. Rather, we prefer the word ethnicity when referring to groups of people who share common characteristics such as history, language, and culture. Thus, we acknowledge that many ethnicities can exist within “whiteness.” In doing so, we have adopted the feminist concept of intersectionality (Collins, 1998; Crenshaw, 1993) as a means for

211

capturing a both/and formulation of identity in which individuals experience multiple identities and social locations simultaneously (Arner & Falmagne, 2007; Mann & Kelley, 1997). To represent such complex identities, many feminists have recommended replacing hyphens (-) with ampersands (&) in the writing of identities (e.g., Ifekwunigwe, 1998). Feminists often refer to this process as “working the hyphens” (Fine, 1994) or “double consciousness” (Brodkin, 1998). These struggles have recently been described by feminists and cultural studies scholars writing about intersectionality and its implications for both research and public policy (e.g., Manuel, 2006). On the one hand, “race” has been largely discredited as a useful category of analysis (see Gannon, 2004, for a dialectical review of biological essentialism and social constructionism). On the other hand, “whiteness” or “White privilege” endures as an invisible standard of comparison, especially in societies—such as the United States— with a cultural “discourse of coexistence” between groups (Bekerman & Maoz, 2005). Lee Ann: So how can we focus on intersectional processes in the narrative interviews we’re doing with new immigrants? Libby:

I think our question needs to shift to how and why people “do” ethnicity.

Lee Ann: That’s it! And by analyzing their own stories of immigration, study participants can choose their own identities.

DIALECTICAL ANALYSIS AS AN INTERSECTIONAL STRATEGY As feminist researchers, we have struggled to find theoretical and methodological approaches to understanding whiteness that would not reinscribe the dominant discourse of White privilege but at the same time be useful in interpreting intersectional identities in autoethnographies and narrative interviews (see Ellis & Berger, 2003). In an ongoing qualitative study of mothers and adolescent daughters from transnational families, for example, we are using dialectical analysis to reveal tensions in family narratives of immigration. As Libby has found with respect to gender coconstructions in families (Blume & Blume, 2003), multiple dialectical positions are often adopted by family members who are struggling

212

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

with “in-between-ness,” such as transnationality or multiethnicity. “It is not at all clear that today’s immigrants see themselves, or for that matter that others see the immigrants, as either black or white” (Lee & Bean, 2004, p. 222). In such narratives, contradictory themes emerge from autoethnographic or narrative interview data (Baxter, 2004; Baxter & Montgomery, 1996; Montgomery & Baxter, 1998) revealing dialectical tensions in underlying cultural discourses. Dialectics are underlying tensions that cannot be reduced to dualities because of the indeterminacy and instability of intersections (cf. Carchedi, 2008). Writing an analytic autoethnography about being “amorphous” as a biracial woman, for example, Gatson (2003) struggled with a “continuous dialectical tacking between the most local of local detail and the most global of global structure in such a way as to bring them into simultaneous view” (Geertz, 2000, p. 69). The notion of a dialectic implies that personal and social processes are dynamically co-constituted (Falmange, 2004). In this view, subjectivity (or self) is the result of a person’s acceptance, rejection, or adaptation of the dominant discourse in a gendered, racialized, and classed social location (Kim, 2004). From the perspective of discourse theories, whiteness is created during the social interactions among people, especially when we differ from one another. According to Bakhtin (1981), selfunderstandings are mediated through speech shared with others by “positioning and repositioning oneself in relation to others’ words, language, and forms of discourse” (Tappan, 2005, p. 56; for examples of (de)constructing whiteness through talk, refer to Best, 2003; Jackson, 1999; Magnet, 2006). The dialectical tensions revealed in the following excerpts from one family in our ongoing study of new immigrants are apt illustrations of contradictions in the cultural discourse of White privilege in America. The dialectical method involves identifying examples of participants’ own statements that contradict the dominant discourse, revealing tensions and inconsistencies as individuals engage in active struggles with intersectionalities and fluid identities (Blume & Blume, 2003). Using theoretical sampling, our raters identified dialectical tensions in the interview transcripts of mother-daughter pairs from Middle Eastern backgrounds by identifying

opposing identity themes. Our analysis revealed underlying ambiguities and contextual choices as well as coconstructed assumptions, meanings, and practices in families and ethnic communities with respect to racialization and White privilege (e.g., Ajrouch, 2000; Sirin & Fine, 2007; Zaal, Salah, & Fine, 2007). For example, when asked by an Arab American female interviewer to describe her background, the response of an adolescent female born in the United States to Syrian immigrant parents illustrates the cultural tensions in the discourse of ethnicity: Teen:

Am I Arab?

Interviewer: Are you asking? Whatever you think . . . Teen:

Yeah, I’m Arab.

Interviewer: So, Arab. What is your race? Teen:

I think I’m White; that’s what I check on forms, you know?

Interviewer: OK. How do you define ethnicity? Teen:

Um . . . I guess, I don’t know, there’s like different regions in the world. And like wherever you are from kind of and like I guess the language that you speak, I guess.

Interviewer: How would you define race? Teen:

The color of your skin.

Interviewer: What do you identify with more, being White or being Arab? Teen:

Arab.

Interviewer: Do you think of yourself as White? Teen:

Yeah, well there’s a difference between when you think of a White person, like when you think of someone else, like you know, like a specific kind of person, I don’t know, like a typical American, I don’t know, you think, I don’t know . . . .

Her mother’s responses reflected similar dialectical tensions between ethnicity and race: Interviewer: What is your ethnicity? Mother:

I’m a Muslim Arab.

Interviewer: And your race? Mother:

What do you mean by race?

16. Resisting Whiteness Interviewer: Some people, on governmental forms they have like Caucasian, African American . . . Mother:

White.

Interviewer: How would you define ethnicity? Like when you think about it, what comes to mind? Mother:

Where you came from, where you were born, where you were raised, where you lived.

Interviewer: And race? How do you think about race? Mother:

The color of your skin.

Interviewer: What does it mean to you to be Muslim and Arabic or Arab? Mother:

It’s who I am, right? I’m a Arab Muslim, that’s me, it’s my life, I live my life as a Muslim Arab.

Interviewer: Do you think you are American? Mother:

Yeah, well kind of, not really.

Interviewer: Not really? Why not? Mother:

Because I was not raised here, I didn’t grow up here. I was older when I came; even though I have the American citizenship, I still can’t feel that, you know? Because I didn’t grow up in this culture maybe, I don’t know. I haven’t spent much time here maybe, even though it’s been like 20 years; but I don’t know, it doesn’t feel like it—is that bad to say? It doesn’t feel like it, no, because—I don’t know, even though I worked and I speak English, it doesn’t feel like it, yeah.

Postmodern communications theorists (e.g., Anderson, Baxter, & Cissna, 2004; Bakhtin, 1981; Baxter, 2004; Hermans, 2001; Montgomery & Baxter, 1998; Raggatt, 2006) often refer to the construction of a “dialogical” self that is constructed using a “shifting voice” in interpersonal interactions with family or community members and in internalized negotiations with the dominant cultural discourse—especially within diasporic communities (e.g., Bhatia, 2002; Bhatia & Ram, 2001). For the most part, these discourse studies involve the textual analysis of narratives such as conversations, memoirs, or poetry (e.g., Barnstone, 2007). Recently, such discursive approaches to narrative analysis have been examined by feminists

213

who—like us—are attempting to deconstruct the dualisms hidden in everyday discourse and to reveal embedded intersectionalities (e.g., Arner & Falmagne, 2007; Barcinski & Kalia, 2005; Falmagne, 2004; Lang, 2005). For example, according to Gloria Anzaldúa (1987), because she constantly inhabits different realities, getting different, and often opposing messages, the mestiza develops a tolerance for ambiguities and contradictions. . . . The mestiza’s plural consciousness comes from her contradictory membership in competing cultures and racial identities. (Barcinski & Kalia, 2005, p. 103)

Similarly, Maria Lugones refers to “curdling” when the intersectionality of identities is resisted or denied and the “mixture” separates (see Barcinski & Kalia, 2005). Other powerful examples of dialectical analyses include the emotional tensions of wanting both to remember and to forget the Holocaust (Brockmeier, 2002), the ideological struggles between subordination and domination in the Autobiography of Malcolm X (see Tappan, 2005), and the creative juxtaposition of dialectical imagery from participant interviews and the researcher’s reflexive responses presented as surrealist poetry (Davison, 2006). We contend that these discourseanalytic approaches are all based on an assumption of the inherent tensions involved in the dialectics of ethnicity and privilege. Libby:

Hi, Lee Ann. Is this a good time to talk about our chapter for the Handbook? I’ve been thinking a lot about privilege—my privilege. I know that because my skin color is considered “white,” I have unearned privileges that other people don’t. I want to resist that in my personal and professional life. How did you get from there to here?

Lee Ann: You know, it was really a combination of factors. In grad school I started volunteering for a local social service agency—working at their food pantry and homeless shelter. It was when I started putting a human face on poverty that social injustice became real, and I started paying attention to inequality in the world around me. At the same time I was learning in the classroom about why these inequities existed and their impact on families. Then when I learned about feminist theory, that’s when it all really

214

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY came together. Although, I still didn’t recognize my own privilege and power at that point.

Libby:

Then how did you end up with this inward focus on changing yourself as opposed to only working for structural change? And when did the concept of whiteness enter in?

FEMINIST PROBLEMATIZING OF WHITE PRIVILEGE Whiteness has been examined by (primarily White) feminist scholars in an intentional political strategy to make privilege visible (Bush, 2004a; Fine, Weis, Pruitt, & Burns, 2004). Peggy McIntosh (1990) was among the first feminists to name the numerous unearned, invisible privileges afforded her due to the color of her skin in a now-classic essay titled White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack. About the same time, Ruth Frankenberg (1993) wrote a reflexive autoethnography and interviewed other middle-class White women like herself in White Women, Race Matters: The Social Construction of Whiteness. She concluded that “most often, Whites are the nondefined definers of other people. . . . Whiteness comes to be an unmarked or neutral category” (p. 197) ascribed with power and privilege. Furthermore, Waters (2007) asserts that declaring one’s ethnicity is often optional for Whites while not so for people with visible identities, such as African Americans or Asian Americans. People regarded as “white” or light-skinned are typically afforded more opportunities, resources, and privileges as compared with non-Whites (Delgado & Stefancic, 1997). White parents, for example, will not likely feel compelled to educate their children about systematic racism—as a means of survival—due to the color of their skin (McIntosh, 1990). Because these privileges are invisible and normative, most White people are oblivious to their advantages and consequently unwittingly complicit in the marginalization of non-Whites. While there is variation in privilege due to factors such as social class, religion, and sexual orientation, for example, Whites are typically silent and passive on matters concerning race, perpetuating their unearned privilege (McKinney, 2005). It is important to acknowledge, however, that the

invisibility of whiteness is a phenomenon primarily among Whites. Whiteness is far from invisible when it exists in the form of violence. A legacy of colonialism and imperialism and highly visible forms of White supremacy such as enslavement and lynching have been used historically to instill fear and assert White privilege and power. The feminist scholar bell hooks (1995) has argued that whiteness is violence and terror, for example, when expressed in the form of White supremacy (Rasmussen, Klinenberg, Nexica, & Wray, 2001). Although the early critical analyses of their own privilege by White feminists was groundbreaking, more recent contributions of multicultural and third-wave feminists (De Reus et al., 2005) to deconstructing race and ethnicities demonstrate a renewed interest in rethinking the function of “whiteness” in the 21st century— not only in upholding privilege but also in perpetuating a racialized society (e.g., Ahmed, 2007; Alcoff, 2006; Alexander, 2006; Ali, 2003, 2006; Bush, 2004a, 2004b; Gunew, 2007; Fine et al., 2004; Magnet, 2006; Ponzanesi, 2007). Furthermore, the body of feminist theorizing about whiteness has antiracism as its goal. In this way, it is both reflexive and praxis oriented by developing critical consciousness about the issue and working to articulate strategies for change. Concluding Reflections on Resisting Whiteness Our scholarship and praxis have benefited from several years of collaboration and reflexive thinking about who we are, what we do, and why. Yet only a few years ago, when we wrote about conceptualizations of identity with April Few for the Sourcebook of Family Theory and Research, we didn’t think about whiteness at all! But now, when we reflect on how much we have grown in our own thinking about White privilege, two shared experiences come to mind. First, we both attended a self-reflexive writing workshop at the White Privilege Conference in Pella, Iowa, Lee Ann’s hometown (see www .uccs.edu/~wpc). The autoethnographies that were excerpted earlier in the chapter were written at this conference. More important, this experience exposed Libby to the farming community in which Lee Ann was raised. Lee Ann’s

16. Resisting Whiteness

father gives tours of the working windmill the town had imported from Holland where her mother mills the wheat that is sold to tourists and locals alike. This shared experience impressed on us both the lasting affective power of the De Reus family’s identity as second-generation Dutch immigrants. Second, we cochaired the Groves Conference on Marriage and Family in Libby’s hometown of Detroit in 2007 with the theme of Social, Economic, and Environmental Justice for All Communities. In small working sessions over 3 days, we interacted with members of the robust African American, Arab American, and Latino communities, hearing firsthand about the insidious effects of racialization and racism on families who are struggling to survive in an ethnically segregated urban context. Although as feminists we still work for structural transformation, now it’s always in conjunction with personal change and an awareness of our privilege. That we even have the luxury of resisting oppression, however, is an indication of our own privilege. In another example, Don’t Be Afraid, Gringo (Benjamin, 1987) tells the author’s story of working in Guatemala on land rights with peasant farmers who try to take on the government. When the locals resisted her efforts to “help,” she was offended and wanted to know why. They explained that if she really wanted to bring change, she’d be much more effective if she went back to her own country, used her education and privilege, and changed her own government’s policy toward Guatemala. At that point, Benjamin realized that change really starts with the realization of her own power and privilege. Levine-Rasky (2002), however, has argued that an “approach to racism as a kind of human development project of self-discovery and redemption neglects the underlying context of history and social structure, and ongoing relations to racialized others” (p. 329). Her primary criticism of antiracism workshops is that selfdiscovery is not enough. Levine-Rasky’s suggestion is to examine whiteness critically, relationally, and contextually. A relational analysis considers the interdependence of Whites and others, and a contextual analysis offers a lens for understanding whiteness in historical context. Such critical analysis attends to social injustices and promotes the commitment to end inequalities. Developing a meaningful antiracism project is ultimately about social justice.

215

In the provocative article Locating Traitorous Identities, Bailey (1998) equated White identity with injustice: Whites must find ways to rearticulate their identities in ways that do not subordinate or exploit others. Bailey described race traitors as White people “who refuse to animate the scripts Whites are expected to perform, and who are unfaithful to worldviews Whites are expected to hold” (p. 28). It can be in the form of interrupting racist jokes, for example, or reaching across “racial” divides in communities to create collaborative efforts for a common cause. Bailey is actually building on the work of Sandra Harding (1991), who challenged us to take responsibility for our racial social location by understanding how we are allied with other Whites and linked to people of different ethnicities. Bailey suggests that to understand our relationship to people we are different from, we must learn how we are seen by outsiders. Learning how to be seen by outsiders necessarily involves “critical humility.” As a complement to first-person inquiry through autoethnography, the notion of humility is key to authentic reflexivity. One way to develop critical humility is a reflexive method for developing self-awareness called second-person inquiry (European-American Collaborative Challenging Whiteness, 2005). In a group process experiment, six White scholars came together to create a “cooperative inquiry” group as a means for learning about the effects of whiteness on themselves and the lives of others. If a group is all White, however, it’s not exactly a matter of being seen by outsiders; we think it might be more beneficial if the group were composed of diverse people. It’s easy to feel superior when engaging in the deconstruction of your own whiteness or to subtly position yourself with the power of moral authority while making ambiguous calls for “social justice” (Nayak, 2006) as if striving for “good White person” status (European-American Collaborative Challenging Whiteness, 2005). We still have many questions. How do we write against racism? Should we work through or against identity politics? Should whiteness be reformed as an identity or abolished (Bush, 2004b)? Do we remake privilege every time we name it? If we believe that identity is maintained through the repetition of naming, through the reiteration of category systems that preserve the inequities of power, then each and every time we use at risk or

216

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

whiteness in our writing, in our teaching, in our discourse, we recreate and maintain both systems of power. . . . Our research is caught in a paradox; it is a critical project that seeks to expose power systems while remaking and maintaining that power. (Warren & Fassett, 2002, p. 582)

How are we, as feminist family scholars, to resist White privilege, given this paradox? As the researcher or “knower,” we have the power to determine what knowledge is produced, for whom, and how it is labeled and interpreted. As feminist scholars who are committed to collective knowledge production, we must be careful to use power with and not power over those who participate in our research projects. Two useful frameworks have helped us to problematize the underlying issue of power that is inherent in the production of knowledge. One example of managing power and politics in ethnographic research comes from Ali’s (2006) work with children of “mixed race.” Her choice to use ethnography, reflexivity, and multiple methods (e.g., interviewing, focus groups, observation) provided her with effective means for managing power issues. Specifically, her provision of cameras to the children, and their subsequent interpretation of the photos, positioned the children as agents in knowledge production. Ali’s postrace project with mixed-race families is an excellent example of how family studies scholars might think differently about identity categories. She used ethnography in a way that captured the multiplicity and multifaceted positionalities of people’s lives. In this way, she was able to illuminate the many ways “mixed-race” children negotiate their identities. The dialectical analysis we use in our own work also has proven effective for revealing the tensions surrounding restrictive identity categories. In this case, theorizing racism is not unlike the ways many feminists have approached sexism by working to overcome gender stereotypes. We believe this answers the analogous question, too, about whether it’s more beneficial to work through or against identity politics: We don’t think it’s an either/or dilemma. As poststructural feminists, we embrace the challenge of working within tensions. So we will work both through and against identity politics. We can work through identity politics as we attempt to deconstruct whiteness as we work within the system to bring about change. And we can work against identity politics as we try to create new

spaces and new language for thinking about difference in our efforts to be unstabilizing forces in the world as White, privileged women (see also Frankenberg, 1996, 1997). Writing this chapter has been a developmental process for us. We have struggled against recreating what we’re trying to dismantle, but how else could we have gotten to this place? We originally invested ourselves in feminist theories and theorizing because we believe in its power to bring about positive change for women and families. That challenged us to think about “difference” differently, which led us to critical theory, which led to a need to understand our personal relationship to our work, which led us to resisting whiteness. That emergent process helped us see the complexities of our own identities and understand the need to adopt or create the tools necessary for a truly meaningful antiracism project. Finally, resistance to our ideas by the reviewer from our chapter opening—someone in our own field—propelled us forward. Ultimately, we hope that the feminist methods we have described in this chapter, reflexive autoethnography and dialectical analysis, can move us all closer to a postrace understanding of the world.

REFERENCES Ahmed, S. (2007). A phenomenology of whiteness. Feminist Theory, 8(2), 141–168. Ajrouch, K. J. (2000). Place, age, and culture: Community living and ethnic identity among Lebanese American adolescents. Small Group Research, 31, 447–469. Alcoff, L. M. (1998). What should White people do? Border crossings, part 2 [Special issue]. Hypatia, 13(3), 6–26. Alcoff, L. M. (2006). Visible identities: Race, gender and the self. New York: Oxford University Press. Alexander, B. K. (2004). Black skin/White masks: The performative sustainability of whiteness (with apologies to Franz Fanon). Qualitative Inquiry, 10(5), 647–672. Alexander, C. (2006). Introduction: Mapping the issues. Writing race: Ethnography and difference [Special issue]. Ethnic and Racial Studies, 29(3), 397–410. Ali, S. (2003). Mixed-race, post-race: Gender, new ethnicities and cultural practice. Oxford, UK: Berg. Ali, S. (2006). Racializing research: Managing power and politics? Writing race: Ethnography and difference [Special issue]. Ethnic and Racial Studies, 29(3), 471–486. Allen, K. R., & Piercy, F. P. (2005). Feminist autoethnography. In D. Sprenkle & F. P. Piercy (Eds.), Research methods in family therapy (3rd ed., pp. 155–169). New York: Guilford Press. American Anthropological Association. (2007). Race: Are we so different? Retrieved August 15, 2007, from www.understandingrace.org/home.html Anderson, A. B. (2001).The complexity of ethnic identities: A postmodern reevaluation. Identity, 1(3), 209–223. Anderson, K. N., Baxter, L. A., & Cissna, K. N. (2004). Dialogue: Theorizing difference in communication studies. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

16. Resisting Whiteness Anderson, L. (2006). Analytic autoethnography. Journal of Contemporary Ethnography, 35(4), 373–395. Anzaldúa, G. (1987). Borderlands/La Frontera: The new mestiza. San Francisco, CA: Aunt Lute. Appiah, K. A. (2005). The ethics of identity. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Arner, J., & Falmagne, R. J. (2007). Deconstructing dualisms: The both/and conceptual orientation and its variant linguistic form. Feminism and Psychology, 17(3), 357–371. Bailey, A. (1998). Locating traitorous identities: Toward a view of privilege-cognizant White character. Border crossings, part 2 [Special issue]. Hypatia, 13(3), 27–42. Bakhtin, M. (1981). The dialogic imagination (C. Emerson & M. Holquist, Trans.). Austin: University of Texas Press. Barcinski, M., & Kalia, V. (2005). Extending the boundaries of the dialogical self: Speaking from within the feminist perspective. Culture and Psychology, 11, 101–109. Barnstone, W. (2007). We Jews and Blacks: Memoir with poems. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Baxter, L. A. (2004). Relationships as dialogues. Personal Relationships, 11(1), 1–22. Baxter, L. A., & Montgomery, B. M. (1996). Relating: Dialogue and dialectics. New York: Guilford Press. Bekerman, Z., & Maoz, I. (2005). Troubles with identity: Obstacles to coexistence education in conflict ridden societies. Identity, 5, 341–357. Benjamin, M. (1987). Don’t be afraid, gringo: A Honduran woman speaks from the heart. Oakland, CA: Food First. Best, A. L. (2003). Doing race in the context of feminist interviewing: Constructing whiteness through talk. Qualitative Inquiry, 9, 895–914. Bhatia, S. (2002). Acculturation, dialogical voices and the construction of the diasporic self. Theory and Psychology, 12(1), 55–77. Bhatia, S., & Ram, A. (2001). Locating the dialogical self in the age of transnational migrations, border crossings, and diasporas. Culture and Psychology, 7(3), 297–309. Biale, D. (1998). The melting pot and beyond: Jews and the politics of American identity. In D. Biale, M. Galchinsky, & S. Herschel (Eds.), Insider/outsider: American Jews and multiculturalism (pp. 17–33). Berkeley: University of California Press. Blume, L. B., & Blume, T. W. (2003). Toward a dialectical model of family gender discourse: Body, identity, and sexuality. Journal of Marriage and Family, 65, 785–794. Blume, L. B., & De Reus, L. A. (2008). Transnational families and the social construction of identity: Whiteness matters. In R. L. Dalla, J. DeFrain, J. Johnson, & D. A. Abbott (Eds.), Strengths and challenges of new immigrant families: Implications for research, education, policy, and service (pp. 71–90). New York: Lexington Books. Blumenfeld, W. J. (2006). Outside/inside/between sides: An investigation on Ashkenazi Jewish perceptions of their “race.” Multicultural Perspectives, 8(3), 11–18. Bochner, A. P. (1997). It’s about time: Narrative and the divided self. Qualitative Inquiry, 3, 418–438. Boggs, G. L. (2007). Interview. Bill Moyers’ Journal. Retrieved June 30, 2007, from www.pbs.org/moyers/journal/08312007/profile2 .html Brockmeier, J. (2002). Remembering and forgetting: Narrative as cultural memory. Culture and Psychology, 8, 15–43. Brodkin, K. (1998). How Jews became White folks and what that says about race in America. Piscataway, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Brubaker, R. (2004). Ethnicity without groups. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Brubaker, R., & Cooper, F. (2004). Beyond “identity.” In R. Brubaker (Ed.), Ethnicity without groups (pp. 28–63). Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Bush, M. E. L. (2004a). Race, ethnicity, and whiteness. SAGE Race Relations Abstracts, 29(3/4), 5–48. Bush, M. E. L. (2004b). Breaking the code of good intentions: Everyday forms of whiteness. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield.

217

Butler, J. (1990). Gender trouble: Feminism and the subversion of identity. New York: Routledge. Butler, J. (1993). Bodies that matter: On the discursive limits of sex. New York: Routledge. Carchedi, G. (2008). Logic and dialectics in social science, part I: Dialectics, social phenomena and non-equilibrium. Critical Sociology, 34(4), 495–523. Collins, P. H. (1998). It’s all in the family: Intersections of gender, race, and nation. Border crossings, part 2 [Special issue]. Hypatia, 13(3), 62–82. Crenshaw, K. (1993). Demarginalizing the interaction of race and sex: A Black feminist critique of antidiscrimination doctrine, feminist theory, and antiracist politics. In D. Weisberg, (Ed.), Feminist legal theory: Foundations (pp. 383–411). Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Davison, K. G. (2006). Dialectical imagery and postmodern research. International Journal of Qualitative Studies in Education, 19(2), 133–146. De Reus, L. A., Few, A. L., & Blume, L. B. (2005). Multicultural and critical race feminisms: Theorizing families in the third wave. In V. Bengtson, A. Acock, K. Allen, P. Dilworth-Anderson, & D. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 447–468). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Delgado, R., & Stefancic, J. (1997). Critical White studies: Looking into the mirror. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Du Bois, W. E. B. (1935). Black reconstruction in America. New York: Russell & Russell. Ellis, C. (2004). The ethnographic I: A methodological novel about autoethnography. Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press. Ellis, C., & Berger, L. (2003). Their story/my story/our story: Including the researcher’s experience in interview research. In J. A. Holstein & J. F. Gubrium (Eds.), Inside interviewing: New lenses, new concerns (pp. 467–493). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Ellis, C., & Bochner, A. P. (2000). Autoethnography, personal narrative, reflexivity: Researcher as subject. In N. K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.), Handbook of qualitative research (2nd ed., pp. 733–768). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. European-American Collaborative Challenging Whiteness. (2005). When first-person inquiry is not enough: Challenging whiteness through first and second-person inquiry. Action Research, 3(3), 245–261. Falmagne, R. J. (2004). On the constitution of “self ” and “mind”: The dialectic of the system and the person. Theory and Psychology, 14(6), 822–845. Fine, M. (1994). Working the hyphens: Reinventing self and other in qualitative research. In N. K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.), Handbook of qualitative research (pp. 70–82). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Fine, M., Weis, L., Pruitt, L. P., & Burns, A. (Eds.). (2004). Off White: Readings on power, privilege, and resistance. New York: Routledge. Frankenberg, R. (1993). White women, race matters: The social construction of whiteness. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Frankenberg, R. (1996). When we are capable of stopping, we begin to see. In B. Thompson & S. Tyagi (Eds.), Names we call home (pp. 3–17). New York: Routledge. Frankenberg, R. (1997). Local whitenesses, localizing whiteness. In R. Frankenberg (Ed.), Displacing whiteness: Essays in social and cultural criticism (pp. 1–33). Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Fuller, S. (2000). Social epistemology as a critical philosophy of multiculturalism. In R. Mahalingam & C. McCarthy (Eds.), Multicultural curriculum: New directions for social theory, practice, and policy (pp. 15–36). New York: Routledge. Gannon, L. (2004). A dialectical understanding of biological politics. Feminism and Psychology, 14, 442–447. Gatson, S. N. (2003). On being amorphous: Autoethnography, genealogy, and a multiracial identity. Qualitative Inquiry, 9(1), 20–48.

218

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

Geertz, C. (2000). Local knowledge. New York: Basic Books. Gergen, M., & Jones, K. (2008). Editorial: A conversation about performative social science. Forum: Qualitative Social Research, 9(2). Retrieved July 2, 2008, from www.qualitativeresearch.net/index.php/fqs/article/view/376/819 Gilpin, L. S. (2006). Postpositivist realist theory: Identity and representation revisited. Multicultural Perspectives, 8(4), 10–16. Gilroy, P. (2000). Against race: Imagining political culture beyond the color line. Cambridge, MA: Belknap. Gimenez, M. E. (2006). With a little class: A critique of identity politics. Ethnicities, 6, 423–439. Glazer, N., & Moynihan, D. P. (1975). Beyond the melting pot: The Negroes, Puerto Ricans, Jews, Italians, and Irish of New York City. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Goldstein, E. (2006). The price of whiteness: Jews, race, and American identity. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Guglielmo, J., & Salerno, S. (2003). Are Italians White? How race is made in America. New York: Routledge. Gunew, S. (2007). Rethinking whiteness: Introduction. Feminist Theory, 8(2), 141–148. Harding, S. (1991). Whose science? Whose knowledge? Thinking from women’s lives. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Hartiman, J., Jr. (1997). Locating white Detroit. In R. Frankenberg (Ed.), Displacing whiteness: Essays in social and cultural criticism (pp. 180–213). Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Hartiman, J., Jr. (1999). Racial situations: Class predicaments of whiteness in Detroit. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Hermans, H. J. M. (2001). The dialogical self: Toward a theory of personal and cultural positioning. Culture and Psychology, 7, 243–281. Hollinger, D. (2000). Postethnic America: Beyond multiculturalism. New York: Basic Books. hooks, b. (1995). Representations of whiteness in the Black imagination. In Killing rage: Ending racism (pp. 31–50). New York: Henry Holt. Ignatiev, N. (1995). How the Irish became White. New York: Routledge. Ifekwunigwe, J. O. (1998). Borderland feminisms: Towards the transgression of unitary transnational feminisms. Gender and History, 10(3), 553–557. Jackson, R. L., II (1999). White space, White privilege: Mapping discursive inquiry into the self. Quarterly Journal of Speech, 85(1), 38–54. Jacobson, M. F. (1999). Whiteness of a different color: European immigrants and the alchemy of race. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Kaye/Kantrowitz, M. (1996). Jews in the U.S.: Rising costs of whiteness. In B. Thompson & S. Tyagi (Eds.), Names we call home (pp. 121–137). New York: Routledge. Kaye/Kantrowitz, M. (2007). The colors of Jews: Racial politics and radical diaspora. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Kim, C. J. (2004). Unyielding positions: A critique of the “race” debate. Ethnicities, 4(3), 337–355. Lagnado, L. (2007). The man in the white sharkskin suit: My family’s exodus from Cairo to the new world. New York: Ecco/HarperCollins. Lang, B. (2005). Hyphenated-Jews and the anxiety of identity. Jewish Social Studies: History, Culture, Society, 12(1), 1–15. Lee, J., & Bean, F. D. (2004). America’s changing color lines: Immigration, race/ethnicity and multiracial identification. Annual Review of Sociology, 30, 221–242. Levine-Rasky, C. (2002). Critical/relational/contextual: Toward a model for studying whiteness. In C. Levine-Rasky (Ed.), Working through whiteness: International perspectives (pp. 319–352). Albany: State University of New York Press. Magnet, S. (2006). Protesting privilege: An autoethnographic look at whiteness. Qualitative Inquiry, 12(4), 736–749. Mahalingam, R., & McCarthy, C. (Eds.). (2000). Multicultural curriculum: New directions for social theory, practice, and policy. New York: Routledge.

Mann, S. A., & Kelley, M. R. (1997). Standing at the crossroads of modernist thought: Collins, Smith, and the new feminist epistemologies. Gender & Society, 11, 391–408. Manuel, T. (2006). Envisioning the possibilities for a good life: Exploring the public policy implications of intersectionality theory. Journal of Women, Politics and Policy, 28(3/4), 173–203. Matthews, D. (2007, January 21). Pick one. New York Times Magazine, p. 74. McDermott, M., & Samson, F. L. (2005). White racial and ethnic identity in the United States. American Review of Sociology, 31, 245–261. McIntosh, P. (1990). White privilege: Unpacking the invisible knapsack. Independent School, 49, 31–36. McKinney, K. (2005). Being White: Everyday whiteness and the meaning of race and racism. New York: Routledge. Mohanty, S. P. (1997). Literary theory and the claims of history: Postmodernism, objectivity, multicultural politics. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Montgomery, B. M., & Baxter, L. A. (Eds.). (1998). Dialectical approaches to studying personal relationships. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Moya, P. M. L. (2002). Learning from experience; Minority identities, multicultural struggles. Berkeley: University of California Press. Nayak, A. (2006). After race: Ethnography, race and postrace theory. Writing race: Ethnography and difference [Special issue]. Ethnic and Racial Studies, 29(3), 411–430. Obama, B. (1995). Dreams from my father: A story of race and inheritance. New York: Three Rivers Press. Philaretou, A. G., & Allen, K. R. (2006). Researching sensitive topics through autoethnographic means. Journal of Men’s Studies, 14, 65–78. Ponzanesi, S. (2007). Feminist theory and multiculturalism. Feminist Theory, 8(1), 91–103. Raggatt, P. T. F. (2006). Multiplicity and conflict in the dialogical self: A life-narrative approach. In D. P. McAdams, R. Josselson, & A. Leiblich (Eds.), Identity and story: Creating self in narrative (pp. 15–35). Washington, DC: American Psychological Association. Rasmussen, B. B., Nexica, I. J., Klinenberg, E., & Wray, M. (2001). The making and unmaking of whiteness. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Rattansi, A. (1995). Just framing: Ethnicities and racisms in a “postmodern” framework. In L. Nicholson & S. Seidman (Eds.), Social postmodernism: Beyond identity politics (pp. 250–286). Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Richardson, L. (2000). Writing: A method of inquiry. In N. K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.), Handbook of qualitative research (2nd ed., pp. 923–948). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Richardson, L. (2003). Looking Jewish. Qualitative Inquiry, 9(5), 815–821. Roediger, D. R. (1991). Wages of whiteness: Race and the making of the American working class. London: Verso. Roediger, D. R. (2003). Colored White: Transcending the racial past. Berkeley: University of California Press. Roediger, D. R. (2005). Working toward whiteness: How America’s immigrants became White: The strange journey from Ellis Island to the suburbs. New York: Basic Books. Sirin, S. R., & Fine, M. (2007). Hyphenated selves: Muslim American youth negotiating identities on the fault lines of global conflict. Applied Development Science, 11(3), 151–163. Sofer, D. (2007). The Septembers of Shiraz. New York: Ecco/HarperCollins. Spry, T. (2001). Performing autoethnography: An embodied methodological praxis. Qualitative Inquiry, 7(6), 706–732. Tappan, M. B. (2005). Domination, subordination and the dialogical self: Identity development and the politics of “ideological becoming.” Culture and Psychology, 11, 47–75. Tedlock, B. (1991). From participant observation to observation of participation. Journal of Anthropological Research, 41, 69–94.

16. Resisting Whiteness Tedlock, B. (2000). Ethnography and ethnographic representation. In N. K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.), Handbook of qualitative research, (2nd ed., pp. 455–486). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Thandeka. (2000). Learning to be White: Money, race, and God in America. New York: Continuum. U.S. Census Bureau. (2001). The White population: 2000. Retrieved July 2, 2008, from www.census.gov/prod/2001pubs/c2kbr01-4.pdf Walker, R. (2001). Black, White and Jewish: Autobiography of a shifting self. New York: Riverhead. Ware, V. (1993). Beyond the pale: White women, racism, and history. London: Verso. Warren, J. T. (2001). Absence for whom? An autoethnography of White subjectivity. Cultural Studies, Critical Methodologies, 1(1), 36–49. Warren, J. T., & Fassett, D. L. (2002). (Re)constituting ethnographic identities. Qualitative Inquiry, 8, 575–590.

219

Waters, M. C. (2007). Optional ethnicities: For Whites only. In G. Kirk & M. Okazawa-Rey (Eds.), Women’s lives: Multicultural perspectives (pp. 113–119). Boston: McGraw-Hill. West, C., & Zimmerman, D. (1987). Doing gender. Gender & Society, 1, 125–151. Winant, H. (2004). Behind blue eyes: Contemporary U.S. racial politics. In M. Fine, L. Weis, L. P. Pruitt, & A. Burns (Eds.), Off White: Readings on power, privilege, and resistance (pp. 3–16). New York: Routledge. Zaal, M., Salah, T., & Fine, M. (2007). The weight of the hyphen: Freedom, fusion and responsibility embodied by young Muslim-American women during a time of surveillance. Applied Developmental Science, 11, 164–177. Zhou, M. (2004). Are Asian Americans becoming “White”? Contexts, 3(1), 29–37.

17 DOING FEMINIST RESEARCH ON GAY MEN IN CYBERSPACE B RAD

VAN

E EDEN -M OOREFIELD

C HRISTINE M. P ROULX

A

merican families are embedded in a world of ever-changing technology (Pew, 2007). This technology can enhance family relationships through its potential for increased connection and daily interactions (e.g., e-mail, text messaging). The darker side of this same technology is that it can draw time away from family interactions by increasing the ease with which individuals are connected to their work lives and responsibilities (Boswell & Olson-Buchanan, 2007). As scholars, we see technology as a new research medium and source of connection to potential research participants, especially those marginalized individuals (e.g., lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender [LGBT]) less likely to participate via traditional methods. Accordingly, we refer to this use of technology as cyber-feminist methods and focus here, specifically, on qualitative methods conducted via the Internet. Our goal in discussing the use of qualitative Internet methods grounded in feminism (i.e., cyber-feminist methods; van Eeden-Moorefield, Proulx, & Pasley, 2008) is to use an example that focuses on the construction of couple identity among gay men and how heteronormative and gendered ideologies inform such constructions (Oswald, Blume, & Marks, 2005). As feminist scholars we also want to take a different approach to writing, one we hope 220

will make this chapter particularly accessible and useful in promoting the use of cyber-feminist methods. Specifically, we take a process-oriented approach in which we provide the behind the scenes information—demonstrating the inclusiveness and reflexivity valued by feminist researchers (Allen, 2001). Although much traditional feminist work is rooted in the study of women’s daily lived experiences and gender inequality (Osmond & Thorne, 1993), we drew on contemporary feminist theory to study the relationship experiences of gay men (De Reus, Few, & Blume, 2005; hooks, 2000). Our goals here then are to (a) provide the reflexive context necessary to judge our conceptual grounding, methodological choices, and findings; (b) provide the epistemological underpinnings related to the use of cyber-feminist methods to study the constructions of couple identity among gay men; (c) present the “how-to” of cyber-feminist methods and a sampling of findings from our research; and (d) discuss future methodological needs of cyber feminists.

REFLEXIVE CONTEXT One way in which to establish the trustworthiness of any qualitative study is to practice reflexivity

17. Doing Feminist Research on Gay Men in Cyberspace

(Allen, 2001), a process by which authors expose who they are in relation to what they study. Through this, we and those who read our work become aware of the biases we bring to the research process and how such biases influence the research process from the beginning to the end. As we began this study, we spent time reflecting on who we were and how our social positions might influence our research. This was not a one-time exchange but an ongoing phase of research—one that has continued throughout the writing of this chapter and that is integrated throughout in the form of reflections stemming from our discussions and field notes. Below, we begin with information about our own narratives that we shared with each other before beginning this project. Brad It was not until a few years ago that anyone ever asked how I could be a man and a feminist. Fortunately, that question forced me to think about how to answer it for others and myself, and I knew doing so would be an exercise resulting in a stronger sense of personal and feminist identity. I was born into a White, rural, upper-middleclass family. From the beginning of my parents’ marriage, patriarchy was the “elephant in the room.” My father made all family decisions. Although not realizing this lack of choice and voice my mother had in these decisions, I never questioned it or my own gender socialization. On entering grade school, I felt my first sense of difference. I enjoyed playing with children of both genders and often was ostracized. As a result, I became more aware of what, in retrospect, I now realize were hegemonic structures, or those structures that valued masculinity over femininity. As my own feelings of difference grew, I became more curious about why I felt different. I remember watching television one evening when I realized I was gay. I remember hearing many of my father’s comments about the gay character being feminine, and as such devalued. It was then that the seeds of internalized homophobia (i.e., self-hatred for being gay) were sewn. The fear that I would be devalued if viewed as too feminine resulted in my attempts to masculinize myself and to suppress who I truly was. In the midst of my own gender and sexuality exploration, the tension between my parents continued to grow as my mother found her voice and asserted it. Eventually, they divorced.

221

As I began dating and integrating into the gay community, I quickly saw the devaluation of gay men who acted in a traditionally more feminine way, and conversely, those gay men who acted in traditionally more masculine ways were those who were given a higher social status. The acts of paying for a date or opening a door now had meaning visible to me, and this meaning was one of power. Suddenly, I was ashamed to be a White male. After entering graduate school, I was introduced to feminist theory and praxis. I immediately realized it could frame my experiences and guide my future actions. As such, I would say that one of the greatest benefits afforded me by feminism is the awareness of inequalities and the knowledge to effect positive social change. Obviously, many of my life experiences led to the research discussed here. Part of this discussion then necessarily involves an understanding into the role that inequality plays in shaping couple identities—something that I, myself, have experienced. For me, part of this research was an eye into my own life. As such, it was helpful to add another scholarly voice (i.e., Chris) to balance the research process and help make visible some of the experiences that are such a part of my daily life that they might have become invisible to me.

Chris Although I cannot recall the beginning of my personal journey of being a feminist, I can recall the beginning of my academic journey. As a firstyear college student, I declared myself a Women’s Studies minor and was allowed into an upperlevel course with the understanding that I would be held to the same standards as the juniors and seniors. After years of education, this women’s studies course stands out as one of the best I ever attended. The course demanded that I walk the line between fostering self-awareness about a particularly difficult topic and upholding the rigors of feminist theory, practice, and beliefs in studying the topic from an academic lens. The instructor’s ability to merge these two areas with grace, integrity, insight, and sensitivity remains with me to this day and serves as an inspiration for my own voice as an instructor, researcher, writer, and mentor to others. Through my work on this project, I became increasingly aware of heteronormativity and what that means to me as a heterosexual feminist committed to understanding diverse relationships; I came to accept that the Internet can provide a safer space for the exploration of multiple intersections even if I was reluctant initially to use the Internet for data collection; and I

222

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

strengthened my belief that being honest and open about one’s identity is important to the credibility of the research process, even when that process is uncomfortable or demanding. The choices we made for our study presented me with an interesting challenge: I was neither male nor gay. When Brad first contacted me about becoming involved in the project, I was intrigued but concerned—where does a heterosexual female feminist fit in this project? Did I belong in this dialogue? Was my outsider status a problem for anyone but me? The fact that I was female was visually obvious, although my nickname, Chris, made me gender neutral, at least in name, over the Internet. My heterosexuality felt obvious to me, as though at times I wore a “Straight White Girl” sign on my forehead. Indeed, it was never my intent to make our participants think I was in the same social position they were, but I could not help thinking it would make my job more comfortable if I were. Somehow, I believed that because my sister and several of my friends were gay I had a better understanding of what being gay in a straight world meant. Maybe it fostered sensitivity, but it did not prepare me for the mix of feelings I would encounter while conducting the research for this project. One thing was for certain—my involvement in this project put me outside my comfort zone, and as a feminist researcher, I was committed to working through that to the same extent that I was committed to giving a voice to our participants.

CONCEPTUAL FRAMEWORK FOR THE STUDY OF COUPLE IDENTITY The goal of our Internet-based study was to examine couple identity among gay men in relationships. Three primary research questions guided our original study: (a) What terminology is used by partnered gay men to describe their mate and their relationship, and what are the contextual meanings of different types of terminology? (b) What would an ideal romantic relationship look like to our participants? and (c) What events mark status changes in gay male relationships? After sharing our narratives and discussing the politics of our locations (Few, 2007), we began the arduous task of engaging our locations with the epistemology guiding our study. This served as the theoretical grounding connected to our methodological choices. As we reviewed our original field notes in preparation for writing this chapter, we noticed that in no part of our original discussion did we consider a possible lack of fit

between feminist theory and the study of gay men and their relationships. However, we now believe this is an important discussion to have, one we did have while writing this chapter, and one which is shared with the reader below. Core Epistemological Assumptions From our reflexive context, our interest in gay relationships and how heteronormativity and gender influence the construction of couple identity should be clear. Furthermore, we both espouse a constructionist epistemology, which we use in concert with feminist and queer theories as a guiding foundation for our study and what follows. More specifically, we assume that knowledge is socially constructed as a result of an actor’s interaction in social relationships (Osmond & Thorne, 1993). In other words, knowledge is a perceived reality resulting from what people believe is contextually normative. Furthermore, individual actors have agency, or the ability to make choices. Society and its various institutions, informed by dominant ideologies situated in particular sociohistorical and cultural contexts, influence construction processes and can constrain agency through marginalization and oppression (Osmond & Thorne). For example, gay men can choose to create long-term relationships, although they are constrained by not being allowed to marry in most states. Last, it is through individual performances of identities that the status quo is maintained, challenged, and/or changed (Butler, 1990). Thus, reality is subjectively experienced and context dependent, and its meaning results from interaction and represents both dominant ideology and individual meaning making (Jackson, 2006). Feminist and queer theories and methods share many of the assumptions stated above and see one function of research as dedicated to social change in which marginalization and oppression are made visible and inequity is corrected (Butler, 1990; De Reus et al., 2005). Feminist theory developed out of a critical awareness of the oppressive hegemonic structures that privilege men to the subversion of women (e.g., De Reus et al., 2005). Queer theory has a similar developmental history, but one that began with a focus on sexuality and then on to the intersection of sexuality and gender (Butler, 1990). As both feminist and queer theories evolved, a central focus of deconstructing gender and sexuality has become a dominant transformative narrative

17. Doing Feminist Research on Gay Men in Cyberspace

in the study of women and sexual minorities and their lived experiences in which assumptions and beliefs are questioned and change is sought to more equitably redistribute power and resources (Allen, 2001; Butler; Oswald et al., 2005; West & Zimmerman, 1987). For any gender transformation to occur, both men and women must resist hegemonic structures that prescribe not only proper gender relations but also prescriptions for masculinity and femininity (hooks, 2000; Schacht & Ewing, 2004). In as much as men resist these gender relations they are being supportive of women by rejecting their socially given male privilege. To do this, men must be conscious of their privilege and their role in perpetuating and correcting it (Allen, 2000). The same also holds true of prescriptions for sexuality. Feminist theory also has expanded to include the experiences of other minorities (e.g., lesbian, Black, and Chicana feminists) recognizing that the experience of women is not monolithic, and the politics of location must be considered if we are to truly understand lived experience (Few, 2007). Recognition of pluralistic family forms also has found its place in feminist scholarship as a way to deconstruct the hegemonic nuclear family, also based on heterosexuality as an ideal (Allen, 2001). Logically, then we assume that sexuality provides a unique lens and opportunity through which to view the construction of hegemonic social structures and individual agency (Jackson, 2006; Oswald et al., 2005). By examining this influence with gay men, and more specifically how these men resist (or not) hegemonic structures, insight will be gleaned that will inform our understanding of transformative gender relations. Feminist Interpretation of the Literature There is a well-established history of research that compares heterosexual couples with gay and lesbian couples with consistent findings that generally suggest both types of couples function similarly and experience comparable outcomes (e.g., Kurdek, 2004, 2006). Although we view this line of research as important and even crucial for establishing a needed field of inquiry, and especially for political activism, as feminists we also recognize this line of research as problematic. Conceptually, this research establishes a binary system of families as either heterosexual or gay rather than highlighting the inherent variation within families (Jackson, 2006). Accordingly, families that fall

223

within each category are viewed as monolithic (Demo & Allen, 1996). Secondly, we assert that comparative studies of this nature implicitly suggest heterosexual families as the normative family. This creates and maintains a heteronormative view (Jackson; Oswald et al., 2005). From the standpoint of feminist praxis, we question whether we can truly assist and advocate on behalf of gay and lesbian families if the majority of research is comparative. A second line of research, occurring primarily within the past decade, has sought to critique and expand on this foundational knowledge in such a way that highlights some of the unique experiences and resilient qualities of gay and lesbian families (e.g., Goldberg, this volume; LaSala, 2000; Oswald, 2000, 2002). Other research has found that discrimination experienced by gay and lesbian couples is one of the unique factors that negatively influences their relationships (e.g., Elizur & Mintzer, 2003). Thus, if we interpret comparative research from this perspective, the fact that gay and lesbian families look similar to heterosexual families on several outcomes in spite of the fact that they experience the added dimension of discrimination is particularly noteworthy as it demonstrates a level of resilience that might not be found among many heterosexual families, especially those closest to matching the heteronormative model. If we are interested in gay relationships and are using feminist and queer theories to guide our inquiry in concert with our reflexive statements, there is a clear need to examine issues of identity within gay couples and their experiences in constructing and performing couple identity. However, most of the scholarship on gay identity focuses not on the couple but on individual identities (e.g., Cass, 1979). Research examining individual gay identity development is the most well-established line of inquiry related to LGBT studies. Gay identity models conceptualize identity as a sense of who one is (Cass, 1979; Troiden, 1988), consistent with feminist theory (Osmond & Thorne, 1993). Unfortunately, most gay identity models are static, underdeveloped, and focus solely on identity development. Identity development is not viewed as a continuous lifelong process as it is from a feminist perspective (Few, 2007) or as a process of performance as it is in queer theory (Butler, 1990). Feminist and queer theories recognize the role of context and fluidity in identity development and maintenance (Butler; De Reus

224

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

et al., 2005; Few, 2007). Theoretically, an individual’s gay identity acquisition is the extent to which a man comes to self-identify as being gay through a process of performing his gay identity to others and receiving feedback about his performance (e.g., Butler, 1990; Cass, 1979). Furthermore, gay identity is a construct that reflects (a) the extent to which he is out to others, (b) the extent to which he internalizes negativity related to his gay status (Meyer, 1995), and (c) his awareness of others’ perceptions of and beliefs about him because he is gay (i.e., stigma consciousness; Pinel, 1999). We assert that (b) and (c) represent dimensions of a heteronormative influence on identity development (Jackson, 2006). Through incorporating these conceptualizations of identity and applying them to theories of the development of couple identity, we can conclude that couple identity is a sense of we-ness that is fluid, performed, and situated contextually. It is socially constructed and as such necessarily would be influenced by heteronormativity, gender, and sexuality. Unfortunately, we know little about how heteronormativity and gender influence the construction of couple identity among gay men. Logically, we can conclude that few models of gay relationships exist that gay individuals can use to construct their own relationships, and this is well documented (Lannutti, 2005). As such, we assume that gay couples create their own models of family. From a constructionist perspective, we can also assume that these models would contain elements of both patterned social norms and unique adaptations that are negotiated between partners. For example, Oswald (2002) has identified resiliency processes among gay couples that work to create family and the meaning of family held by its members. If we are to gain insight into the influence of the role of gender, sexuality, and heteronormativity as patterned social norms on couple identity, we must move beyond research that simply has examined whether gender roles exist among gay couples (e.g., Marecek, Finn, & Cardell, 1982). In fact, research on gay male couples demonstrates an ethic of equality and egalitarianism rather than support for stereotypically gendered gay couples (Patterson, 2000). In a similar vein, research suggests that how gay couples navigate heteronormativity, when constructing their relationships, also might provide a strategy to redress the promotion of not only patriarchal gender

relations but also compulsory heterosexuality (i.e., the institutionalization of heterosexuality; Jackson, 2006). As a caveat, newer research has explored the variations of equality among lesbian couples, especially those with children, and found a more complex picture of equality among these couples (see Goldberg, this volume). Given the similarity found between gay and lesbians in other couple dynamics and outcomes (e.g., Kurdek, 2004, 2006), we could speculate that future research among gay male couples with children might demonstrate similar findings. Last, as feminist scholars we would be remiss to not give voice to the intersection of multiple identities and their politics of location and how these inform a sense of couple identity (Few, 2007). Although our primary research goal was to gain insight into how heteronormative and gendered ideologies intersect to influence the construction of couple identity, it is important to acknowledge that gay male couple identity is influenced by other subjectivities. Specifically, issues of race, income, ethnicity, age, and educational diversity need to be explored in reference to the ways in which such diversity may influence how gay men construct their romantic relationships and how they understand them vis-à-vis issues of heteronormativity and gender. For example, would issues of race or ethnicity be more salient than gendered norms in constructing couple identity? How do these various types of diversity inform not only research questions but also participants’ willingness to engage in our studies and respond to our inquiries? Many of these questions remain underexplored and unanswered, but with increased access to cyberfeminist methods, such as those described below, to conduct studies on marginalized populations, it is our hope that future research can explore these questions. Furthermore, newer methodological developments such as the cyber-feminist methods discussed here provide an opportune avenue to explore these questions and others.

QUALITATIVE INTERNET METHODOLOGY: THE CREATION OF CYBER FEMINISTS Rationale The Internet increasingly is becoming part of our everyday lives (Weiss, 2001); yet its capacity to serve as a research tool remains largely unexplored

17. Doing Feminist Research on Gay Men in Cyberspace

(see Lyons, Cude, Lawrence, & Gutter, 2005; Murray & Fisher, 2002). In an increasingly tight funding environment, researchers must be creative in using cost, energy, and personnel-efficient methods while remaining true to their epistemological beliefs. Given our constructivist perspective, we argue that the use of Internet methodologies complements the goals of feminist research without compromising those research elements that are central to the tenets of feminism. Indeed, we argue that in regard to some tenets, such as creating a space for the experiences of marginalized groups (Few, 2007), Internet methods may be superior to many traditional face-to-face (FTF) methodologies (van EedenMoorefield et al., 2008). However, we recognize that engaging some marginalized groups via the Internet is more appropriate and feasible than others (e.g., those who are of a lower socioeconomic status and therefore less likely to have Internet access). Below, we outline some of the major methodological considerations (i.e., sampling, procedures, and data analysis) for cyberfeminist methods. Sampling Considerations As feminist researchers, we aim to give voice to a diverse range of individual experiences. Even when we wish to limit our samples to specific inclusion criteria, our goal is to elicit the many diverse views that appear within these populations and present findings that illustrate the depth and breadth of experience while maintaining rigor and trustworthiness. Doing so allows the reader to apply the findings to other contexts and populations, thereby allowing them to judge transferability (Lincoln & Guba, 1985). Thus, a primary methodological consideration is whether we can reach a sample appropriate for a particular study using the Internet. In answering this question, we must have knowledge about the potential population from which we will draw our sample and also provide thorough information about the sample we procure. Gosling, Vazire, Srivastava, and John (2004) suggest that use of the Internet can aid researchers in obtaining more diverse samples, although their findings apply to quantitative studies. However, there is no reason to suspect that any differences would emerge for qualitative sampling. Davis, Bolding, Hart, Sherr, and Elford (2004) suggest that marginalized and typically hard to

225

find populations, those most common to qualitative studies, are easier to locate via the Internet. In fact, Internet users have become more diverse with regard to social class and race/ethnicity in the past decade (Weiss, 2001). Thus, using the Internet for qualitative research from a feminist perspective presents a methodological opportunity to assess populations and processes about which we know little. So, Who Uses the Internet? As stated, sampling from Internet users is promising for including the voices of marginalized populations. A primary concern for feminist researchers is equal access to research and the knowledge that it creates. Data from the Pew Internet and American Life Project (2007) showed that 71% of the adult population uses the Internet—this figure is steadily increasing. Males and females use the Internet at a comparable rate, and Internet users tend to have income and educational levels somewhat higher than the national average. However, more underrepresented demographic groups appear to be increasing their Internet usage. For example, 62% of Black and 78% of English-speaking Hispanic individuals now use the Internet, both increases since 2001 (Pew, 2007; U.S. Department of Commerce, 2004). Those with lower incomes also have increased their Internet usage. In 2003, 31.2% of individuals with incomes at or less than $15,000 used the Internet, compared with 25.9% in 2001. Because of limited access to Internet service, those in rural areas have been slower to increase their access with estimates of 60% using the Internet (Pew). Last, being younger, enrolled in school, and employed are also positively related to Internet use. In spite of potential barriers mentioned above, we argue that the Internet is methodologically useful for broadening our knowledge of many marginalized groups. Procedural Considerations The most common method to recruit samples in online research is to create research Web sites and register them with search engines (i.e., Google), or piggyback other sites so that individuals can locate the survey Web site and participate (Lyons et al., 2005; Rhodes, DiClemente, Cecil, Hergenrather, & Yee, 2002). Specific to qualitative

226

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

research, the use of e-mail (Im & Chee, 2002) or solicitation in chat rooms or on discussion boards (Wang & Ross, 2002) is more common. One last consideration is the use of snowball sampling methods. These methods have a long tradition in qualitative research (e.g., Croom, 2000; Davis et al., 2004). Specific to online methods, we contend that they take on an added benefit, namely faster snowballing should occur. These types of recruitment strategies, however, may pose problems unique to Internet research (e.g., multiple responses from the same individual). A key for qualitative researchers then is to develop prescreening methods that assist in identifying these participants (Im & Chee, 2002). One such process to potentially circumvent multiple participation from the same individual is to make the prescreening process sufficiently involved. We recognize the trade-off as potentially creating a selection bias. In terms of recruiting gay men online, Mustanski (2001) suggested identifying a contact person in LGBT organizations and asking him or her to send a research notice via the organizational listserv, similar to the use of a traditional key informant. After notices are sent, potential participants contact the researcher directly to inquire about participation. As stated previously, this method adds an element of selection bias, but the benefit of establishing one-on-one communication with participants early in the study can enhance rapport and trust given the lack of FTF contact. Obtaining informed consent is one of the most debated considerations for Internet research as a signature is not feasible to obtain (Murray & Fisher, 2002), and individual IRBs (institutional review boards) will need to make this consideration. From a cyber-feminist perspective, we suggest that before a participant enters a chat room he or she be directed to a research Web site that provides a full description of the study and a copy of the informed consent (Mann & Stewart, 2000). The next step occurs on the participant’s entrance into the chat room where he or she is presented with a written statement declaring that entrance into the chat room confirms that he or she has read and understood the informed consent document. Each person must acknowledge this, which becomes part of the transcript and thereby is documented. The

second alternative involves asynchronous communication via e-mail where the participant is sent a link to a similar (or same) Web page as above (Mann & Stewart). The participant is given the option to ask questions via e-mail or at the beginning of the chat and a statement is added to the informed consent such that by entering the chat room consent is implied. Obviously, this is a more passive way to obtain consent and one which we do not advocate. As a cautionary note related to procedures of e-mail exchanges as well as the general research process, cyber feminists should think thoroughly about ways in which to make the Internet a safer space rather than simply assume that it is safe. For example, when studying intimate partner violence, cyber feminists should consider providing participants with directions related to clearing their computer of any traces (e.g., cookies, history of Web sites visited) that could provide violent partners with information about study participation or resources provided in conjunction with a particular study. An additional procedural concern for feminist researchers is the connection between the researcher(s) and the participants. Feminist researchers strive to strike a balance with participants that does not lead to a hierarchy of power; rather, we want our research endeavors to empower whom we study (Osmond & Thorne, 1993). Carefully used, Internet methods can foster good researcher-participant relationships and provide empowerment. Thus, it is particularly important for researchers to be open about their social positions to break down potential barriers that may exist (Allen, 2000). Participants, for example, may be worried about their typing skills or the speed at which they respond. Conscientious researchers should be mindful to handle these concerns with care, giving participants opportunities to catch up and assuring them that perfect typing skills are not required (van Eeden-Moorefield et al., 2008). Because of the emphasis on connection between researchers and participants, we endorse using synchronous focus groups rather than ongoing discussion boards for qualitative group data collection. Synchronous focus groups such as those found in chat rooms allow “real-time” interaction between participants and the researcher. Alternatively, discussion boards allow participants to post comments/questions at their convenience but rarely, if ever, involve synchronous interaction

17. Doing Feminist Research on Gay Men in Cyberspace

227

between participants or between researcher(s) and participants. Whereas both methods have their benefits and drawbacks, the real-time interaction in synchronous focus groups (or interviews) between participants and researcher is beneficial, and outweighs the pros of the discussion boards (Wang & Ross, 2002). Last, online focus groups should be smaller (3–5 participants) because of the rapid pace at which discussion occurs (van EedenMoorefield et al.).

might well provide a more safe space via added anonymity that enhances qualitative data. Additionally, they also found that Internet focus group participants used emoticons, statements of agreement, and strategic capitalization of words—elements they suggest act as online nonverbal behavior. Taken together, we can conclude that trustworthiness of data can be maintained and may even be enhanced in cyberfeminist research.

Data Considerations

“DOING” CYBER-FEMINISM

The nature of interactions via the Internet compared with FTF is also of concern to feminist researchers because of the direct link to the quality of data obtained. Although this is crucial to moving cyber-feminist methods forward, there is little research available that provides insight into the trustworthiness of this type of data. Research that is available suggests that having a research Web page that includes not only information about the study such as those suggested above but also personal and professional information about the researcher and/or research team (Joinson, 2001) may enhance data quality. For example, Joinson found that participants who viewed the research Web page prior to participation exhibited higher breadth of disclosure (measured by a simple word count). However, the depth of the disclosure did not vary. In a similar study, Schneider, Kerwin, Frechtling, and Vivari (2002) found that Internet participants, compared with FTF participants, made more but shorter comments. Schneider and associates also suggested that encountering participants who would be more dominant than others in the same group was unlikely. Others have found that Internet participants are more likely to express themselves openly and honestly in an online context given the added anonymity (Bargh, McKenna, & Fitzsimons, 2002; Whittier & Melendez, 2004). Van Eeden Moorefield and associates (2008) also compared the differences in breadth and depth of content between Internet and FTF groups and interviews. They found that Internet participants had significantly higher depth scores compared with FTF participants, but contrary to Joinson’s (2001) findings, they had similar breadth scores. Because depth is more important to the trustworthiness of qualitative research, they concluded that Internet methods

The data discussed in this chapter are drawn from a study examining couple identity and identity processes among gay men (Moorefield & Proulx, 2003). We recognized early in the conceptualization process that using the Internet for qualitative data collection was novel and that it would require diligence on our parts to adhere to the tenets of feminist theories (the use of queer theory was added later in the process). We suggest that the difficulties faced were overshadowed by the potential benefits of using this method to conduct our study: We could achieve our goal for increased relationship experience diversity; we could provide a safer, more anonymous space for participants who were not “out” and/or who may fear public statements about their sexuality and relationships; and we could introduce the field of relationship research to a new medium for collecting qualitative data. Thus, we hoped to give voice to gay men with various types of relationship experiences, thereby illuminating relationship stories often left out of the close relationships research literature in general and the gay relationships literature in particular. Brad’s Reflections Choosing the Internet to conduct qualitative research seemed like a logical methodological choice for me, grounded in my personal observation and experience. Historically, the invisibility of gay men and their relationships have been encompassed in private spaces, often primarily at gay bars. In fact, growing up and beginning to date took place almost solely in the context of a bar for me, at least the meeting of potential mates. As the creation and accessibility of the Internet emerged, it changed how many of

228

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

my friends and I thought about meeting and creating relationships. We no longer were confined to meeting spaces filled with alcohol, loud music, and the like. Suddenly, the community was less separated and dispersed, and it was easier to meet people. It was empowering as it created connections to other gay individuals in many cities and states outside our own who were not previously accessible. I saw the Internet as a safer space to hold and enact my identity and to find someone with whom to create a shared identity. With my own history and comfort of chatting on the Internet with other gay men, I had experienced connecting with others without the traditional nonverbal behaviors and limits of FTF communication. It was a natural extension of my personal lived experience into the world of research.

Chris’s Reflections Choosing to use the Internet for qualitative data collection was not easy for me. I am so me what antitechnology, despite the fact that it facilitates many aspects of my personal and professiona llife. I was also concerned that it would change the dynamics between us as researchers and our participants. I enjoy meeting my participants, I tend to engage in lots of nonverbal communication, and I also tend to read participants’ nonverbal communication, which can facilitate my response and timing as the interviewer. Stripped of this in an online setting, Ifeared “losing” our participants in the process, or perhaps losing the quality of data we wished to obtain. That being said, using the Internet shielded me. In many ways, I benefited from the same anonymity that some of our participants may have been seeking, although both Brad and I were open with our participants about our sexuality ands ocial positions. For example, the anonymity of being online made me more comfortable in facilitating focus groups or interviews without Bradthan I would have been in an FTF environment.

Methods Overview Recruitment Consistent with methods used by Mustanski (2001), all participants were recruited through solicitation of groups and organizations that cater to the gay community. A recruitment letter explaining the study and recruitment process along with flyers for potential participants were (a) mailed to nine groups in a midsize

southeastern city and surrounding community and (b) e-mailed to four groups nationally. Organizations were selected based on group membership (gay couple groups, support groups for those not out, gay racial/ethnic groups) and were matched for local and national organizational emphasis (i.e., if a support group for non-out gay men was selected locally, one also was selected nationally). To provide additional information about the study, organizational representatives were contacted through follow-up telephone calls and/or e-mails. All potential participants were asked to contact the first author via e-mail or phone to express their interest in participating. Asynchronous e-mail communication and/or telephone contact was established in which the first author provided detailed information about the study, screened the potential participants to assure that they met study criteria (i.e., had previous or current relationship experience with another man), gathered demographic information, scheduled participation, and provided instructions regarding the chat room software required. In the original sample (Moorefield & Proulx, 2003) participants took part in either online or FTF focus groups or interviews. For our purposes here only Internet data are used. Those recruited were asked to take part in an online focus group, but they were given the opportunity to choose to participate in an online interview if there were scheduling complications with focus groups. In these instances (largely due to difficulty in scheduling people in different time zones and with different work schedules), individual interviews were requested. This type of scheduling conflict is an issue specific to qualitative Internet methods (vs. quantitative Internet studies in which surveys are often completed at the respondent’s convenience). Originally, we intended to conduct semistructured focus groups only, but because of such scheduling difficulties, we modified our design to include semistructured individual interviews in an attempt to reduce the loss of data and enhance trustworthiness through the use of multiple methods while adding convenience for participants. This strategy should be considered in future research studies before beginning data collection, especially considering the potential time between being contacted by a potential participant, completing a university review board addendum, and actually conducting

17. Doing Feminist Research on Gay Men in Cyberspace

the interview. The time saved by planning for this potential complication could result in reductions of lost data due to nonparticipation. All participants were e-mailed a complete description of the study, including potential benefits and risks, and a copy of the informed consent form the day before their scheduled participation. The consent form could be electronically signed and returned and/or consent would be implied once the participant chose to enter the online chat room (Mann & Stewart, 2000). As stated earlier, this is an effective way to obtain informed consent and is similar to those studies using quantitative Internet methods (e.g., Mustanski, 2001; Nosek, Banaji, & Greenwald, 2002). Furthermore, van Eeden-Moorefield and associates (2008) found that sending the consent form the day prior to participation served as a reminder and increased the participation rate compared with those of previous studies (e.g., Birnbaum, 2004; Weissman, 1998). In fact, of those who initially expressed interest in the study, 88% participated in the 1to 2-hour semistructured interviews and focus groups. Sample Table 17.1 provides demographic information about the original Internet sample. We note that the mean age of participants was 37.5 years (SD = 10.85). The median income for participants was $50,000 to $59,999 with a mode of $30,000 to $39,999. Generally, there was some experience variability in the sample. For example, the sample appeared to be more variable in terms of race/ethnicity, presence of children, and out status. Thus, by using the Internet a greater diversity of voices and experiences were included, thereby supporting one goal of this study and our rationale for using this method. We note that in no way do we make any claims about representativeness from a quantitative perspective, nor was it our goal. For the purposes of the study, we created a chat room using Yahoo Messenger. This software is free of charge and allows for the creation of chat rooms that are private and secure (i.e., other than the system administrators, no one but the room’s creator knows that it exists, and no one can enter the room unless invited). Additionally, people using Yahoo Messenger were allowed to create multiple screen names and did not have to provide “correct” personal information to Yahoo Messenger (i.e., their

TABLE 17.1

229

Demographic Characteristics of Sample (N = 12)

Variable

N

Percentage

White

7

58.3

Race/Ethnicity Black

1

8.3

Hispanic/Latino

2

16.7

Asian

2

16.7

Education < High school

1

8.3

Some college

1

8.3

4-year degree

5

41.7

Graduate degree

5

41.7

Yes

6

50.0

No

6

50.0

Yes

5

41.7

No

7

58.3

Children

Out

personal information is not verified). This option increases anonymity in that other participants potentially would not be able to match screen names with accounts, online profiles, or e-mail addresses. Although we know of no one else who has offered this method, it can be assumed that this additional avenue for anonymity, not available for FTF groups, decreases some ethical concerns related to disclosure and increases participation and validity of the data (van Eeden-Moorefield et al., 2008). For example, participants were given the option to create a unique screen name for the sole purpose of the study, and participants were allowed to use a fictitious name throughout the study. Consistent with our research goals, participants were first asked to share some basic demographic information, as well as the length of their current relationship, and the term they use to refer to their partner (e.g., partner, husband, boyfriend). After they had answered the questions (as well as those that follow), the moderator offered a summary of what had been said, asked participants to add to or adjust that summary if needed, and asked participants to elaborate on what was meant by the various terms they offered. After collecting demographic data, we asked participants what

230

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

makes someone a partner and not a boyfriend. Next, we asked participants to share what they believed were the characteristics of an ideal relationship for them personally, and what words they would use to describe it. Participants were then asked to describe the terminology they used to describe their romantic relationships and how these may be similar or different based on relationship characteristics. Last, participants were asked what events may mark changes in the status of gay male relationships. Data used here comprises only the online participants and were analyzed using the constantcomparative method (Maykut & Morehouse, 1994). The first step in this process was open coding (Glaser, 1978) in which both authors broke the transcripts down into units consisting of participants’ responses to facilitator questions, follow-up prompts, and one another’s comments. We then searched for similarities and differences in the themes that emerged in the text units. The authors met weekly to review notes and discuss these emergent themes, similarities, and differences as a means of establishing confirmability, or the likelihood that the themes accurately capture the meaning intended by participants and could be corroborated by others (Lincoln & Guba, 1985). Throughout this process, we collapsed and refined themes as their meanings became clearer to us. A number of final themes describing the process of couple identity in our sample, described below, emerged. In addition, we identified multiple categories that emerged within these themes. These categories captured the multidimensional nature of the emergent themes and should prove useful to researchers intending to study the couple level processes occurring in gay male couples. The NVivo 7 software program was used for coding, storing, and summarizing data and to maintain an audit trail, thereby enhancing dependability. Results and Discussion In this section, we present examples of the major themes and their interconnections. We should note that this section is not exhaustive or entirely comprehensive, given our primary focus in the present chapter is on methodology. However, the results and our discussion provide a level of insight about the relationships of gay men as well as an example of the data and results garnered from our cyber-feminist approach.

Couple Identity A sense of we-ness and interdependence between partners emerged as a major theme related to couple identity. For example, one participant stated, “For me it means we have formed a union and have become partners in life.” It was clear from our participants that couple identity engendered a sense of being connected and joined to the other partner and represented an ethic of equality. Three categories emerged that further elucidated the meaning couple identity held for our participants: negotiated processes, shared rituals, and personal connections. We define negotiated processes as those processes in which couples engage to negotiate the day-to-day workings of their relationship. As one man, who had been with his partner for 20 years and was raising two teenage sons, stated, “One of the things that amazes me about our relationship is how well we work together in getting things done, handoffs and compromises thru out [sic] the day, it is like a well tuned machine.” The second category focused on engaging in shared rituals (e.g., holidays) as a couple. It included meeting a partner’s family for the first time and engaging in regular interactions with them. Consistent with previous research (e.g., Oswald, 2002), shared rituals, and, more specifically, being recognized by important others as a couple, play a key role in establishing a sense of we-ness. As one participant suggested, “Family involvement is important, but only if it is supportive and they accept me AND my partner.” Personal connections is the third category and is represented by a personal and perceived sense of connection, often presented as a sense of love for and from one’s partner, as well as friendship. For example, one participant stated, “I love the fact that my partner is my best friend, that we have achieved a level of sexual completeness (that still continues to evolve), that we share similar values.” What has become clear in our analysis is that couple identity is multidimensional and appears to reflect an individual’s perception, the couple’s behavior, and the recognition of the relationship by significant others. Ideal Relationship To best examine heteronormative and gender ideological influences on couple identity, it is important to also gain a sense of what an ideal

17. Doing Feminist Research on Gay Men in Cyberspace

relationship is. We expect this would reflect conceptions representative of hegemonic influences, as well as those potentially representative of agency. For example, most people strive to achieve what they believe to be an ideal, such as the traditional nuclear family (Jackson, 2006). If that model does not apply, as it would not for a same-sex couple, then the ideal must be modified (Oswald, 2002). Thus, the literature suggests that ideals should present the extent of modification occurring among gay couples, and in fact, our results suggest that relationship ideals were not a perfect match with the meaning that emerged for couples’ identities. The overall theme was one of interdependence in which the couple shared a life and interests, and also retained an individual life, as one participant stated, Ideal relationship for me: each person has shared values in the areas of work ethic (ambition), religion (or lack thereof), finances (running a household, putting away for the future, understanding wants vs. needs, etc.), monogamy (or not) and a very low sense of “ownership” of the other person. Nurturing and empowering each other.

What is interesting was the high number of statements about low ownership and empowering one’s partner. These responses represent an ethic of equality and a desire for partners’ well-being and may also represent a desire for one’s partner to not experience the effects of discrimination and to provide voice. Additionally, we were surprised that the statements were overwhelmingly focused on the emotional aspects of relationships with no discussion of external influences. We suspect that these men might have come to the conclusion that due to a history of invisibility, discrimination, and compulsory heterosexuality, these aspects of a relationship may not be realistic options and as such were erased from their ideals. This would in turn represent modification and the use of agency to construct their own reality and relational identities. However, these are empirical questions and purely speculation on our parts. What we can conclude with more confidence is that it most likely represents some of the heteronormative and gendered ideological influences discussed below. (Resisting) The Heteronormative Str8jacket There were strong themes of both heteronormative and gendered ideological influences,

231

and a stronger theme of the influence from their intersection and how these men resisted. Thus, we only present information about their intersection here, which we refer to as (Resisting) the heteronormative str8jacket, and believe that this represents agency. This term is used to reflect the confining straightjacket-like nature of heteronormativity espoused by many participants and str8 was used to represent a shorthand way of typing straight in an online context as well as one way that the insider culture writes the word. The participants clearly acknowledged the influence of marriage as an institution that prescribes norms for being a couple and holding an identity as a couple. As one participant stated, “I think we try to make them (relationships) look like heterosexual ones, but of course that is all most of us know.” One online focus group began discussing how gay male relationships may change if they were afforded the same rights as heterosexual marriage. A respondent stated, “I do think a lot of problems in straight relationships are rooted in society’s expectations of what each person is “supposed” to do . . . that can be very confining for straight people who may feel differently.” For our participants, there was tension between what society prescribes as the meaning and roles of a relationship and how confining it can be, and yet how it also provides a stabilizing commitment. Participants also connected these prescribed roles and norms of heterosexual marriage to gender and how gender norms act to constrain relationships and create inequality within them. As John states, Some people assume we split roles just like a husband and wife and have trouble understanding we don’t split them that way . . . neither of us does all the “husband” or the “wife” stuff . . . we tend to share most things.

Matt responded by stating, “When the straights figure that out, their difficulties will begin to dissolve.” Another participant stated the idea in a slightly different way: “We are much freer and the difficult part is defying societal rules and finding your own individual comfort levels.” What is important about these examples are the efforts taken by these couples to resist the heteronormative str8jacket, consistent with previous research (e.g., Oswald et al., 2005).

232

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

Final Reflections Chris At various times throughout this project, I felt guilty for being straight and for the privilege this accorded me. Almost always, I felt isolated, although I believe that this grew out of internal circumstances, not the external ones. At other times, I was agitated at what to me sounded like blanket assumptions being stated about heterosexual relationships or, on occasion, women. (It is worth mentioning at this point that I was engaged to be married at the time we were collecting data. I was already dealing with mixed emotions about being a feminist and planning a wedding, and so I was acutely aware of many contradictions swirling around me.) I was particularly struck by several gendered themes, some of which were not apparent to me until I reread the data in preparation for this chapter. I noticed what I interpreted as a dichotomy, but I think it is merely a reflection of everyday lived experience. On one hand, our participants frequently discussed the stereotypes that exist about gay male relationships (e.g., gay men just want sex, they are promiscuous, they cannot settle down with just one person) and how they are inaccurate assumptions. Yet many of these men spoke about heterosexual marriages in terms of gendered stereotypes and it stirred some defensiveness in me. I would be lying if I said that that was a comfortable position in which to be. But out of this discomfort developed a quest for a better understanding, and the collaboration between Brad and I fostered what I believe is a unique and accurate representation of the lived experiences of the gay men we interviewed. Brad As I reflect on this project and the experience of working with Chris, I have many thoughts. On the one hand, I believe that I gained a sense of empowerment and validation for my everyday lived experiences, and in doing so I also was able to give an accurate voice to the many participants who took part in this study, many of whom continue to send email updates periodically. Interestingly, many of them were Internet participants, and this itself acts as a testament to the level of rapport that can be established between cyber feminists and participants. My reaction to the use of gendered stereotypes among heterosexual marriages was in some ways opposite to Chris’s. I lived in a family in which the gendered nature of heterosexual marriage had an adverse effect on my mother and her opportunities, and my own anger toward my father and society was validated in many ways, as were my own attempts to reveal the role of gender

in gay relationships. However, I also know the allure of stereotypes, their power, and their oversimplification of families. I benefited greatly from having Chris’s voice and her experiences to keep me grounded and reflexive of my own biases. This “insider-outsider” type of collaboration resulted in a stronger level of trustworthiness in how the men’s descriptions of their relationships were represented here.

REFERENCES Allen, K. R. (2000). A conscious and inclusive family studies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 4–17. Allen, K. R. (2001). Feminist visions for transforming families: Desire and equality then and now. Journal of Family Issues, 22, 791–809. Bargh, J., McKenna, K., & Fitzsimons, G. (2002). Can you see the real me? Activation and expression of the “true self ” on the Internet. Journal of Social Issues, 58, 33–49. Birnbaum, M. (2004). Human research and data collection via the Internet. Annual Review of Psychology, 55, 803–832. Boswell, W., & Olson-Buchanan, J. (2007). The use of communication technologies after hours: The role of work attitudes and worklife conflict. Journal of Management, 33, 592–610. Butler, J. P. (1990). Gender trouble: Feminism and the subversion of identity. New York: Routledge. Cass, V. (1979). Homosexual identity formation: A theoretical model. Journal of Homosexuality, 4, 219–235. Croom, G. L. (2000). Lesbian, gay, and bisexual people of color: A challenge to representative sampling in empirical research. In B. Green & G. L. Croom (Eds.), Education, research, and practice in lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered psychology: A resource manual (Vol. 5, pp. 263–281). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Davis, M., Bolding, G., Hart, G., Sherr, L., & Elford, J. (2004). Reflecting on the experiences of interviewing online: Perspectives from the Internet and HIV study in London. AIDS Care, 16, 944–952. Demo, D. H., & Allen, K. R. (1996). Diversity within lesbian and gay families: Challenges and implications for family theory and research. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 13, 415–434. De Reus, L., Few, A. L., & Blume, L. B. (2005). Multicultural and critical race feminisms: Theorizing families in the third wave. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. DilworthAnderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.). Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 447–468). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Elizur, Y., & Mintzer, A. (2003). Gay males’ intimate relationship quality: The roles of attachment security, gay identity, social support, and income. Personal Relationships, 10, 411–435. Few, A. L. (2007). Integrating Black consciousness and critical race feminism into family studies research. Journal of Family Issues, 28, 452–473. Glaser, B. G. (1978). Theoretical sensitivity. Mill Valley, CA: Sociology Press. Gosling, S., Vazire, S., Srivastava, S., & John, O. (2004). Should we trust web-based studies? A comparative analysis of six preconceptions about Internet questionnaires. American Psychologist, 59, 93–104. hooks, b. (2000). Feminism is for everybody. Cambridge: South End Press. Im, E., & Chee, W. (2002). Issues in protection of human subjects in Internet research. Nursing Research, 51, 266–269. Jackson, S. (2006). Gender, sexuality and heterosexuality. Feminist Theory, 7, 105–121. Joinson, A. (2001). Knowing me, knowing you: Reciprocal selfdisclosure in Internet-based surveys. Cyber Psychology & Behavior, 4, 587–591.

17. Doing Feminist Research on Gay Men in Cyberspace Kurdek, L. A. (2004). Are gay and lesbian cohabiting couples really different from heterosexual married couples? Journal of Marriage and Family, 66, 880–900. Kurdek, L. A. (2006). Differences between partners from heterosexual, gay, and lesbian cohabiting couples. Journal of Marriage and Family, 68, 509–528. Lannutti, P. J. (2005). For better or worse: Exploring the meanings of same-sex marriage within the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered community. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 22, 5–18. LaSala, M. C. (2000). Gay male couples: The importance to coming out and being out to parents. Journal of Homosexuality, 39, 47–71. Lincoln, Y. S., & Guba, E. G. (1985). Naturalistic inquiry. Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Lyons, A., Cude, B., Lawrence, F., & Gutter, M. (2005). Conducting research online: Challenges facing researchers in family and consumer sciences. Family and Consumer Sciences Research Journal, 31, 341–356. Mann, C., & Stewart, F. (2000). Internet communication and qualitative research: A handbook for researching online. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Marecek, J., Finn, S. E., & Cardell, M. (1982). Gender roles in the relationships of lesbians and gay men. Journal of Homosexuality, 8(2), 45–49. Maykut, P., & Morehouse, R. (1994). Beginning qualitative research: A philosophic and practical guide. Oxford, UK: Falmer Press. Meyer, I. H. (1995). Minority stress and mental health in gay men. Journal of Health and Social Behavior, 36, 38–56. Moorefield, B., & Proulx, C. M. (2003, November). Couple identity and couple-verification: Extending identity theory to gay male couples and families. Paper presented at the 33rd Theory Construction and Research Methodology Workshop, annual meeting of the National Council on Family Relations, Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. Murray, D., & Fisher, J. (2002). The Internet: A virtually untapped tool for research. Journal of Technology in Human Services, 19(2/3), 5–18. Mustanski, B. (2001). Getting wired: Exploiting the Internet for the collection of valid sexuality data. Journal of Sex Research, 38, 292–301. Nosek, B., Banaji, M., & Greenwald, A. (2002). E-research: Ethics, security, design, and control in psychological research on the Internet. Journal of Social Issues, 58, 161–177. Osmond, M. W., & Thorne, B. (1993). Feminist theories: The social construction of gender in families and society. In P. G. Boss, W. J. Doherty, R. LaRossa, W. R. Schumm, & S. K. Steinmetz (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theories and methods: A contextual approach (pp. 591–625). New York: Plenum Press. Oswald, R. F. (2000). A member of the wedding? Heterosexism and family ritual. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 17, 107–131.

233

Oswald, R. F. (2002). Resilience within the family networks of lesbians and gay men: Intentionality and redefinition. Journal of Marriage and Family, 64, 374–383. Oswald, R. F., Blume, L. B., & Marks, S. R. (2005). Decentering heteronormativity: A model for family studies. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. DilworthAnderson, & D. M. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory & research (pp. 143–165). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Patterson, C. J. (2000). Family relationships of lesbians and gay men. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 1052–1069. Pew Internet & American Life Project (2007). Demographics of Internet users. Retrieved October 2, 2007, from www.pewInternet.org/trends/User_Demo_6.15.07.htm Pinel, E. (1999). Stigma consciousness: The psychological legacy of social stereotypes. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 76, 114–128. Rhodes, S., DiClemente, R., Cecil, H., Hergenrather, K., & Yee, L. (2002). Risk among men who have sex with men in the United States: A comparison of an Internet and a conventional outreach sample. AIDS Education and Prevention, 14, 41–50. Schacht, S. P., & Ewing, D. W. (2004). Feminism with men: Bridging the gender gap. New York: Rowman & Littlefield. Schneider, S., Kerwin, J., Frechtling, J., & Vivari, B. (2002). Characteristics of the discussion in online and face-toface focus groups. Social Science Computer Review, 20, 31–42. Troiden, R. R. (1988). Homosexual identity development. Journal of Adolescent Health Care, 9, 105–113. U.S. Department of Commerce, (2004). A nation online: Entering the broadband age. Retrieved January 15, 2005, from www.ntia.doc.gov/reports/anol/NationOnline Broadband04.htm van Eeden-Moorefield, B., Proulx, C., & Pasley, K. (2008) A comparison of Internet and face-to-face qualitative methods in studying the relationships of gay men. Journal of GLBT Family Studies, 4, 181–204. Wang, Q., & Ross, M. (2002). Differences between chat room and e-mail sampling approaches in Chinese men who have sex with men. AIDS Education and Prevention, 14, 361–366. Weiss, M. (2001). Online America. American Demographics, 23, 53–60. Weissman, R. (1998). Online or off target? American Demographics, 20, 20–21. West, C., & Zimmerman, D. H. (1987). Doing gender. Gender & Society, 1, 125–151. Whittier, D. K., & Melendez, R. M. (2004). Intersubjectivity in the intrapsychic sexual scripting of gay men. Culture, Health & Sexuality, 6, 131–143.

18 ENGENDERING FAMILY PAST 19th-Century Pro-Family Discourse Through a Feminist Historical Lens M ICHELE A DAMS

W

ith the advent of the second wave of the women’s movement came the realization that women were essentially absent from history. A few “outstanding” women (the ones who achieved militarily, scientifically, or politically on the order of men) made the cut, but overall women had largely been left out of the historical record. History was made by, about, and for men—an androcentric compilation of the historical record of mankind perpetuating the idea that women were little more than the passive helpmeets, to use a biblical phrase, of these extraordinary male actors (see Janssen-Jurreit, 1982). When historian Gerda Lerner observed that “women have a history; women are in history,” she was announcing both women’s historical existence and their intent to change how history was made (Lerner, 1979, pp. xx, 169; see Dumont, 1989, p. 111). This chapter addresses feminist historical methodology, the rules that specify how to approach a social investigation focused on women-centered engagement with history (see Ramazanog˘ lu, 2002). I begin the chapter with a discussion of feminist theory, epistemology, and methodology, looking at the 234

approaches feminist scholars have developed since the 1970s to examine issues of concern to women. I then move on to discuss historical methodology, including the epistemological debate between positivist-oriented historians and those of a more interpretivist or postmodern bent. The former of these researchers tend to see history as a series of objective events to be reported without interpretation; the latter group is oriented toward an interpretive study of history that systematically looks at how oppression has been socially constructed over time (Armstrong, 2003; Jacobs, 2001; Scott, 1999). As I discuss below, although not all interpretivist historians do feminist research, the interpretivist epistemological stance resonates with feminist concerns and provides an important conceptual space for the development of feminist methodology in historical research (Nicholson, 1986; Scott, 1999). Engaging this epistemological space, I discuss how feminist methodology has the potential to transform historical research by “bringing in” women and their multivalent voices. Drawing on methods employed by historians generally, feminist

18. Engendering Family Past

historians have started to expand the historical record to view intersecting oppressions that incorporate and move beyond issues of gender to include race/ethnicity, nationality, class, and sexuality, among others. In the latter part of this chapter, I illustrate the use of feminist historical methodology with my study of the discourse of the 19th-century pro-family movement, which deployed rhetorical images of the “natural” traditional family and threats to that family to unsettle women’s emerging quest for autonomy. The discourse also drew on issues of race/ ethnicity and nationhood to incite ambivalence in nascent (White, native-born) feminists seeking flexibility in their traditional family roles. Examining these data through the lens of feminist historical methodology allowed me to see the ambivalence between women and family as a social construction that functioned to divide women along racial and ethnic lines and divert them from their focus on modifying traditional family gender roles (Adams, 2007). Adoption of a critical family theoretical perspective further encouraged me to question how pro-family rhetoric has functioned over time to provoke a backlash to feminist inroads into unequal family and social arrangements. I confront these issues from a particular social vantage point that incorporates varying power arrangements. (Dis)Empowerment is not experienced as an either/or dichotomy but can instead be conceptualized in relation to any number of different intersecting hierarchical relations, including, among others, gender, race, ethnicity, social class, age, and (dis)ability. Each individual occupies a unique position on this “matrix of domination” (Collins, 2000). My unique position on the matrix of domination can be defined, in part, by my characterization as White, middle-class, and heterosexual—all hegemonic statuses according me a certain level of “unearned privileges” (Allen, 2001), such as social legitimacy and access to resources. As with other individuals, the level of unearned privilege that I am afforded is loosely based on the relative configuration of hegemonic and marginalized statuses that I occupy. Generally speaking, these privileges are restricted or denied to the poor, people of color, and those oriented toward same-sex relationships, also based on their relative configuration of statuses. On the other hand, I am also female, a marginalized sex status that reduces the

235

amount of (unearned) privilege that I can claim relative to males. My particular configuration of hegemonic and marginalized statuses—White, middle-class, heterosexual, and female—is further inflected by my ideological dedication to feminism, which engages the multiplicity and complexity of family arrangements from women’s perspectives. I am a White, middle-class, heterosexual, feminist woman—and it is through this particular combination of hegemonic and marginalized statuses that I engage the society in which I live. To illustrate how my life has been influenced by my particular status configuration, I draw on my experiences as an undergraduate in the early 1970s. It was during this time that the emerging second-wave women’s movement was beginning to contradict the conventional assumption that a young woman was restricted in her ambitions to the roles of wife and mother. My working-tomiddle-class parents struggled to move beyond conventional assumptions, allowing me to attend college, but only with the caveat that my goal be implicitly directed toward attaining a “Mrs.” degree; my success in college was measured by the fact that I was able to do so. On the other hand, my husband-to-be was focused on a degree in civil engineering—his success was measured not by his ability to get a wife, but by his ability to get a well-paying job, which he did. Although we both ostensibly met our educational objectives, his led him to financial security, while mine led me to dependence on him for that security. Thus, my life opportunities were limited relative to his by my status as a woman. Then again, I would probably not have been able to attend college at all had my family not been financially able to help me out with tuition and living expenses. And although the Civil Rights Movement had been ongoing for well over a decade, few African Americans or other students of color attended the private Midwestern university where I matriculated. In terms of educational opportunity, I was clearly privileged relative to those who were economically disadvantaged or who were not White, even though I was less privileged than my White, middle-class, prospective husband. I started graduate school some 20 years later, newly divorced, with a feeling of having been betrayed by a society that led me to believe that marriage was my only opportunity for security and happiness. Along with this feeling of

236

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

betrayal came a newfound respect for feminists and the battles they waged on women’s behalf. I chose sociology as a discipline, with areas of specialization in family and gender, as these areas resonated with the questions that I had about my own life story. My dissertation work on the historical relationship between movements for women’s rights and those promoting family (from which the study discussed below, originally published in Adams, 2007, developed) emerged out of my own experiences as a divorced woman incessantly bombarded by cultural messages encouraging marriage and family. At the time, I also observed an emergent body of public policy and scholarship supporting this cultural message. Because of this marriage movement’s temporal proximity to the second wave of feminism, I wondered about the relationship between the two—that is, did profamily movements tend to follow movements for women’s rights, and, if so, was this a historical pattern (see Adams, 2003)? This question led me to draw on feminist historical methods to compare the 19th- and 20th-century pro-family movements and their supporting discourses. After graduate school, armed with a PhD, I accepted a tenure-track job teaching and doing research at a “Research I” university. In this “publish or perish”environment, I find that I have internalized many of the tensions associated with my particular configuration of hegemonic and marginalized statuses. Some of the most significant tensions in my work now arise from grappling with the competing influences of the hegemonic (socially valued) and the marginalized (socially devalued) parts of my consciousness. Thus, even as I openly claim my marginalized identity as a female feminist sociologist, my scholarship and academic performance are influenced, challenged, and in some ways limited by my male “inner critic,” who unfailingly opines that my feministinclined ideas are trivial, overemotional, and generally “unscholarly.” Others have referred to this phenomenon as “programming” (Neuborne, 2001) or internalized sexism. My inner critic, reflecting the sexist programming that I have internalized, is a product of the hegemonic elements of my life. Moreover, my socialization in a traditional nuclear family and a society that “centers” men as experts leads me to a subconscious belief that my inner critic speaks from a universal, objective, and ahistorical perspective. For me, one of the greatest challenges of doing feminist research involves

realizing that my inner critic speaks from an androcentric, rather than universal, perspective and fighting through his insistence that I temper my scholarship to reflect a more “unbiased” (read not feminist) standpoint. Similarly, using feminist historical methodology to do history from the standpoint of women requires vanquishing the male inner critic and reenvisioning male-centered history, which, as discussed below, has traditionally been assumed to be everyone’s history.

FEMINIST THEORY, EPISTEMOLOGY, METHODOLOGY “Feminism” is a movement, and a set of beliefs, that problematize gender inequality. Feminists believe that women have been subordinated through men’s greater power, variously expressed in different arenas. They value women’s lives and concerns, and work to improve women’s status. (DeVault, 1999, p. 27)

Feminist theorizing emerged in the late 1960s and the early 1970s as the intellectual correlate of the political project of feminism. Feminist theory blossomed in the academy as second-wave feminists assumed positions in mainstream disciplinary departments and began to push the boundaries of social thought to incorporate and engage women. Although a full exploration of feminist theories is beyond the scope of this chapter, many excellent treatments exist in the literature (see, for instance, Lorber, 2007). Briefly, feminist sociologists Patricia Madoo Lengermann and Gillian Niebrugge (2008) suggest that feminist theorizing is driven by four basic questions: “And what about the women? Why is women’s situation the way it is? How can we change and improve the social world? and What about differences among women?” (p. 497). A fourfold typology of feminist theories developed in accordance with answers to these questions, including theories of gender difference, gender inequality, gender oppression, and structural oppression (Lengermann & Niebrugge). Nevertheless, as these theorists point out, feminist theory is dynamic and changing; thus, this typology refers to a historically specific framing of feminism that, while accurate in the present, is prone to ongoing and future development. For instance, postmodernism has produced a comparatively new feminist theoretical frame that presents an “oppositional epistemology”

18. Engendering Family Past

to older feminist theories—creating, that is, “a strategy for questioning the claims to truth advanced by any given theory” (Lengermann & Niebrugge, 2008, p. 481). Questioning epistemological objectivity and the existence of universal truths, the key questions of postmodernism in relation to feminism include “the historical, social questions: Whose truth? Whose nature? Whose version of reason? Whose history? Whose tradition?” (Bordo, 1990, p. 137). All the above questions lead to scrutiny of women’s place in history and the traditional historian’s account of that place. Gradually introduced over time, these questions emerged as feminists became more and more immersed in the process of theory making, building, as it were, toward the postmodern questioning of truth claims. In the abstract, theory can be seen as a conceptual tool that asks “what” the social world is and “why” it is that way; “how” that world should actually be studied may be more effectively answered through epistemology and methodology. Epistemological and methodological development has accompanied feminist theory building, informing decisions about how knowledge should be created and the rules for creating it. Although feminist theory, epistemology, and methodology are all multiple and multivalent (as indicated by references in the literature to “theories,” “epistemologies,” and “methodologies”; see, for instance, Alcoff & Potter, 1993), in this chapter I address mostly those aspects that impinge specifically on historical research. Feminist standpoint epistemology, which privileged the standpoint and experience of women, was developed by feminists such as Sandra Harding (1986), Dorothy Smith (1987, 1997), and Nancy Hartsock (1983). This epistemological stance countered androcentric approaches to science and research, including the presumption of “objective,” value-free knowledge, and categorization of the world in terms of dualisms such as public/private, reason/emotion, mind/body, and masculine/feminine. Feminist standpoint epistemology privileged women’s experience and perspective. In conjunction with this “way of knowing,” initial feminist theorizing centered on identifying sexism in society, problematizing the exclusion of women from history and other areas of public life (see Scott, 1999). Meanwhile, development of feminist methodology emerged as an important practice of the 1980s,

237

drawing on the epistemological understanding that previous, male-centered, knowledge construction techniques contributed to the oppression of women (DeVault, 1999). In response, feminist methodology promoted research practice that encouraged “bringing women back in,” thus remedying their previous exclusion and “reveal[ing] both the diversity of actual women’s lives and the ideological mechanisms that have made so many of those lives invisible” (p. 30). Ultimately, feminist research methodology was intended to promote social change to benefit women. As the women’s movement matured, feminists started to see that including women as researchers and research subjects (the “add women and stir” approach) did not go far enough toward creating social change to benefit women (Tomm, 1989). What was needed to counter traditional androcentric approaches to research was an entirely “new” feminist approach—one that considered the world from women’s perspectives. As feminist anthropologist Michelle Rosaldo (1980) observed, A crucial task for feminist scholars emerges, then, not as the relatively limited one of documenting pervasive sexism as a social fact—or showing how we can now hope to change or have in the past been able to survive it. Instead, it seems that we are challenged to provide new ways of linking the particulars of women’s lives, activities, and goals to inequalities wherever they exist. (p. 417)

Feminist standpoint epistemology has accommodated this reorientation by encouraging theorists and researchers “to move from including others’ lives and thoughts in research and scholarly projects to starting from their lives to ask research questions, develop theoretical concepts, design research, collect data, and interpret findings” (Harding, 1991, p. 268). From a feminist perspective, “others” include not only women, but also groups oppressed through additional axes of hierarchy such as race/ethnicity, class, and sexuality. Women (and other oppressed groups) are multiple and their experiences are contradictory, and there is an important gap between understanding the world from the perspective of these exploited, dominated groups and understanding the world from the perspective of the dominators (Harding, 1991; see also Bordo, 1987). For this reason, it is clear that “feminist

238

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

insights cannot be ‘for women only’” (Harding, p. 277). Conceptual questions about differences between women have thus supplemented issues of gender omission and inequality. Feminist theories that incorporate elements of postmodernism move even further into the realm of questioning difference and hierarchy. Feminist philosopher Sandra Harding (1986) included feminist postmodernism as one of three epistemological “types,” one that effectively challenged the assumptions of feminist empiricism and feminist standpoint epistemologies (p. 27). Themes consistent with a postmodern feminist methodology include rejecting a unitary truth in favor of multiple realities and truths, recognizing the extent to which power informs the construction of knowledge, and recognizing that the self is a social construction created through social narratives (East, 1998). In accordance with the above discussion, the following broad generalizations can be made about feminist methodology applicable to historical research. Feminist historical studies should (a) include women (or women’s voices); (b) make interpretations from the perspective of women (and other marginalized groups); (c) abandon the search for objective, disinterested knowledge in favor of “situated” knowledge; (d) disrupt dualisms, such as public/private, that implicitly privilege men; (e) focus on how categories of self (such as “woman”) are constructed through social narratives; and (f) consider how power is implicated in the historical process, including how it is caught up in the process of knowledge production.

HISTORICAL EPISTEMOLOGY, HISTORICAL METHODS, AND FEMINIST HISTORICAL METHODOLOGY How is knowledge created through historical research, and to what extent do feminist research objectives “intersect” with epistemologies of history? The steps that a researcher takes to conduct a historical study are, generally speaking, similar to those that structure research in other areas. After identifying an issue to study, the historian articulates a research question and forms hypotheses (if appropriate). She then gathers and organizes the sources to be used as historical evidence. After thorough investigation of the sources themselves, the researcher analyzes and

interprets the data, then writes up the “story” that the data tell in a coherent historical narrative (Busha & Harter, 1980; Mason, McKenney, & Copeland, 1997). While the overall strategy is similar, what sets historical research apart from that conducted in other disciplines is the nature and extent of source validation, “technical work [that] has long been considered the backbone of history writing” (Howell & Prevenier, 2001, p. 2). Authenticity (genuineness), credibility (lack of error or distortion), and representativeness ([un]typicality) must be assessed before the document (or other type of source) can be treated as evidence (Scott, 1990). These criteria can be evaluated in a number of different ways depending on the researcher’s expertise and available options; discussion of the actual mechanics for doing so extends, however, beyond the scope of this chapter. Generally speaking, evidence internal and external to the source will be used, as will contextualizing features of the historical period in question, to assess the ultimate utility of the source for research purposes (Scott). Ultimately, particularly in the case of documentary sources, meaning must be assessed in both a literal and an interpretive sense. The literal meaning can generally be deduced from “surface content,” although decisions must be made about, for instance, translation and meanings of outmoded words and semantic forms. Often, the more challenging task involves discerning the interpretive meaning of the document. Although there is no one “right” way to interpret this meaning, several approaches are commonly used. One approach asks “what the document might have said but did not”; another asks why “one path was chosen over another” (Davidson & Lytle, 1992, p. 59). Alternatively, a researcher may examine a document’s intellectual heritage. Finally, understanding a document as a tool in and of itself, a historian can interpret it “according to the way it functions” within its own particular social situation (p. 65). Once the historian has analyzed her or his documentary evidence and arrived at a sense of what it means in the particular historical context of which it was a part, she or he can begin to pull together the narrative that is the main objective of historical research. Generally speaking, two epistemological approaches have driven the study of history, one approximating a positivist position regarding the creation of knowledge and the other

18. Engendering Family Past

drawing on a more interpretive approach. Adopted by traditional historians, the former position suggests that history can be seen as a series of objectively knowable, linearly organized, “true” events, and the historian’s function is mostly as a recorder of these objective facts. In this scenario, history becomes a “process of discovery” and the historian, a sort of “forensic scientist” who “sets asides [sic] his or her prejudices and concentrates on what can be derived from material evidence” (Jacobs, 2001, p. 128; see also Elton, 1991). On the other hand, while all historical researchers “interpret” their data to a certain degree, those falling into the “interpretivist” camp advocate for a more subjective involvement by the researcher herself or himself (Howell & Prevenier, 2001). This position, embraced by historians drawing on a more postmodern and interpretivist tradition, questions the objectivity of historical “truth,” preferring instead to see history as constructed in the present through the interpretive lens of the historical researcher. Following Foucault (1972, 1973), historians working in this epistemological tradition see history as constructed through the archaeology of narrative (Jacobs, 2001). In this sense, the historian is more than just a reporter of historical fact; she or he is instead a “creator” of history, who constructs it in the present through her or his beliefs, values, and reasoning capability (Armstrong, 2003). Thus, the “historian’s ‘voice’ is at the centre of history” as are her or his values and “standpoint . . . in relation to contemporary issues” (Armstrong, 2003, p. 202; see also Collingwood, 1961; Howell & Prevenier, 2001; Oakeshott, 1933). Over time, particularly with the rise in importance of cultural history in the past several decades, historians have moved generally in a more interpretivist direction (see Howell & Prevenier, 2001). It is this latter epistemological frame that circumscribes much of the historical research conducted by feminist scholars (see Shapiro, 1992). This framework is particularly amenable to a feminist methodological approach since it encourages the researcher to revisit and reinterpret the past through the lens of her or his current understanding of gender power relations. Thus, Teresa de Lauretis (1990) argues that there is “an essential difference . . . between a feminist and a non-feminist historical consciousness” (p. 255), as feminist historians are inclined to deconstruct and denaturalize gender

239

power relations occurring in the past that nonfeminist historians accept as historical truth. Not all historical research conducted through an interpretivist lens is feminist research, however. As I discuss below, feminist historical research builds into a historical framework a number of additional understandings, primary among which is the notion that gender must be foregrounded as a central construct of historical concern. Although interpretivist historical research moves beyond the positivist assumption that a historical “truth” is accessible through objective recitation of the historical record, it does not necessarily draw on gender as a point of departure. This is one of the areas in which feminist methods make a significant contribution to the methods of the historian. Within the context of this interpretive historical frame, some feminists have drawn on the work of Foucault to investigate the connections between power and knowledge (see Shapiro, 1992). According to Foucault, knowledge can be seen as “a form of cultural regulation through which order is imposed” (Armstrong, 2003, p. 207; Foucault, 1972). Knowledge production is a “cultural process,” which is often effected through the deployment of language. For this reason, power is diffuse rather than centered on one individual or group. In making this argument, Foucault observes that “relations of power are interwoven with other kinds of relations (production, kinship, family, sexuality),” thus implicating several of the institutions of domination confronted by feminists (Foucault, 1977, p. 142). Feminist historians have used these insights to recover the history of oppressive gender relations as “subjugated knowledge,” which Foucault defines as knowledge that has been “disqualified . . . located low down on the hierarchy” (p. 82). Feminist historical researchers are, in effect, engaged in an “insurrection of subjugated knowledge,” as they attempt to reconstitute that knowledge as a legitimate basis for current praxis (p. 81). In this way, application of feminist methodology to history becomes an activity that is vital to the lifeblood of the feminist project in the present. Feminist historical methodology has reciprocally beneficial effects on both feminist and historical research. Viewing history through feminist eyes “makes visible” the androcentrism in the traditional historical narrative that encodes gender bias as natural and thus obscures the relations of

240

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

ruling it supports (see Smith, 1987). Relatedly, bringing feminism to history problematizes the omission of women and marginalized groups as historical actors and refocuses attention on them as subjects rather than merely objects of White men’s actions. In doing so, it decenters the male-centered historical narrative characterized by events such as wars and military engagements, opening up historical study to a new narrative that examines everyday lived realities such as reproduction, sexuality, child care, and families (Harding, 1986; Tomm, 1989). To “disturb traditional interpretations,” feminist social scientists have encouraged movement away from historical focus on the “difference between the sexes” to studying the “relations between the sexes historically” (Dumont, 1989, pp. 114–115; Kelly-Gadol, 1976). This can be accomplished by refocusing historical analyses on gender as an organizing construct of domination, something that is routinely advocated by feminist scholars (see, for instance, Scott, 1986, 1999). Finally, in conjunction with dismantling the historical focus on differences between the sexes (and differences established along other axes of oppression such as race/ethnicity and sexuality), feminist methodology attempts to deconstruct dualistic thinking in history, including the conceptual separation between the public and private spheres. For feminists and marginalized groups, “the personal is political” and implicating the politics in history creates a radical departure from the dualistic thinking that has supported cultures of oppression. As one social scientist has observed, “feminist scholarship can show historical sociologists the possibilities of expanding (not replacing) historical analyses by ‘digging underneath’” (Morawska, 1998, p. 43), thus exposing the dualities and the oppressions embedded in and made invisible by androcentric historical narratives. Furthermore, the feminist epistemological preoccupation with eliminating dualisms (public/private, work/family, mind/body, reason/emotion) can aid in reconstructing a more nuanced historical narrative in which men and women are not studied as fulfilling roles in parallel universes, but as a part of the same universe in which their “roles” are constructed through systems of power. This realization has the radical potential to alter structures of hierarchy in the present by denaturalizing them in the past (see Armstrong, 2003; Morawska, 1998).

Incorporating historical thinking has also benefited the feminist project. The “long view” of history has, in fact, corroborated feminist suspicions that oppressive gender roles are not “natural” but are instead social constructions intended to maintain men’s privilege and justify larger state military and colonization aims (see Connell, 1990). Historical analyses thus confirm the view that gender oppression is a political project, not a personal failing of individual women who do not live up to or accept their “natural” gender roles. For instance, as I suggest below, when viewed in a historical context, the “family values” argument that individual autonomy is antithetical to family obligation for women only is justifiably viewed as a social construction created by White men to “keep (White) women in their place” and, in the process, to enforce racialized notions of nationality (see Adams, 2007).

A CASE STUDY IN FEMINIST HISTORICAL METHODOLOGY: 19TH-CENTURY MARRIAGE MOVEMENT RHETORIC I will draw on my study of the rhetoric of the 19th-century marriage promotion movement to illustrate the use of feminist historical methodology (see Adams, 2007). The study was part of a larger research project undertaken previously in which I compared the rhetoric of the 19th- and 20th-century marriage and family promotion campaigns, particularly with respect to their engagement with movements for women’s rights (see Adams, 2003). As a feminist sociologist, I have been interested throughout my academic career in issues associated with feminism and family; moreover, as discussed previously, these issues resonate with concerns arising from my own life story. The particular motivation for this project was my curiosity regarding the current marriage promotion campaign, initiated in about 1980 by conservative religio-political groups intent on reinstating the traditional family (and, relatedly, reversing rights incrementally gained by women during the early stages of the secondwave feminist movement). My interest led me to literature produced by one particularly politically active group, the Family Research Council, headquartered in Washington, D.C. As I read their literature, produced largely to “educate” family

18. Engendering Family Past

policymakers in the U.S. Congress, I became sensitized to the underlying antifeminism of the tracts. Sometimes this antifeminism was openly expressed, but often it was composed of veiled references to feminists’ alleged antifamily attitudes and actions. The rhetoric reflected a mixture of condescension toward (if not outright abhorrence of) feminists and distrust of their political positions on family and gender roles. I was not alone in observing this conjunction of pro-family rhetoric and antifeminism, as other social scientists have noted that movements promoting family often tend to represent backlashes to campaigns for women’s rights (see Faludi, 1991; Nicholson, 1986). At the same time, while reading historian Michael Grossberg’s history of family and law, titled Governing the Hearth (1985), I found a reference to another marriage promotion campaign, this one initiated in the latter part of the 19th century. I was struck by the similarities between the two campaigns. For instance, the 20th-century campaign began around 1980, roughly 10 to 20 years after the start of the second wave of the women’s movement; the 19th-century campaign got its start in about 1870, roughly 20 years after the Women’s Rights Convention at Seneca Falls publicly brought together “a seventy-year-long tradition of female activity” on behalf of women’s rights, coalescing in the first wave of the women’s movement (Evans, 1989, p. 95). Religio-political groups provided organizational leadership to each of the marriage movements, acting as educational warehouses for dissemination of material on the “crises” of marriage, divorce, and gender role abdication—the Family Research Council, as mentioned, in the 20th century, and the National League for the Protection of the Family in the 19th century. Racial tensions ran high in both time periods, with the pro-family campaign following on the heels of the Civil War in the 19th century and on the heels of the Civil Rights Movement in the 20th century. The United States was the scene of substantial immigration and tensions associated with changing national ethnic composition in each of these time periods. And anxiety regarding shifting patterns of gender and family role expectations ran very high in each, as, also in both eras, White men were increasingly seeing their power eroded by gains made by women in the context of the immediately prior feminist movement.

241

Finally, even the pro-family rhetoric of the Family Research Council bore a strong resemblance to the rhetoric of the 19th-century National League for the Protection of the Family. My curiosity was piqued by the similarities in these pro-family campaigns and by the parallels in their character and rhetoric. Wondering about the extent to which marriage promotion crusades represent cyclical backlash movements to campaigns for women’s rights, I undertook a comparison of the rhetoric of these two organizations, resulting in the comprehensive research analysis on which my dissertation was based (Adams, 2003). Subsequently, I reanalyzed the historical data, focusing on the nature of the rhetoric of the 19th-century National League for the Protection of the Family and how the rhetoric was specifically deployed to disrupt women’s attempts to disengage from traditional gendered family roles (Adams, 2007). The data included annual reports, reports organized around specific family-related issues, speeches, sermons, and correspondence associated with the organization, most of which was authored by its corresponding secretary and spokesperson, Reverend Samuel W. Dike. I obtained copies of these documents from a data archive in the name of Reverend Dike at the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C. These data were supplemented by published scholarly and popular articles written by Reverend Dike and other members of the Board of Directors of the National League for the Protection of the Family. All these documents were written and/or published between the years 1881 and 1915. The difficult task of finding valid, reliable, existing historical documentation is one that most researchers drawing on historical data encounter regularly (Davidson & Lytle, 1992; Scott, 1990; see discussion above). Often data are located in university archives or federal repositories such as the Library of Congress. After the data are retrieved and examined, a historical study can take one of two general trajectories depending on the epistemological leanings of the researcher. As discussed above, historians with a positivist orientation may simply report events and findings from the data, assuming that there is an objective reality to history that precludes substantial interpretive engagement by the researcher. In this case, the historian acts as an archivist of sorts, “putting together information about the past like a jigsaw” (Armstrong, 2003,

242

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

p. 203). Alternatively, historians with more postmodern, antipositivist proclivities believe that the historical researcher draws on the data to interpret the past through the lens of the present, giving the past meaning through her or his own schemas of categorization and typification (Armstrong). As noted previously, this latter epistemological approach to historical study has opened up a space for feminists to “revisit” male-centered history, armed with their concerns about the omission of women’s voices, the relationship of power to knowledge and history creation, and the construction of women’s selves through historical narratives. Following in this tradition, I set out to analyze the discourse of the 19th-century family promoters using interpretive schemas informed by my feminist background and critical family theoretical perspectives. Specific research methods often transcend disciplinary and topic boundaries, although qualitative methods have tended to be more closely associated with feminist research than have quantitative methods (see, for instance, Reinharz, 1992; but see Sprague & Zimmerman, 1989, who argue that both types of methods can be effective for feminist analyses). I conducted a discourse analysis of the historical documents that I had gathered, drawing on a grounded theory approach that allowed categories to emerge from the data. My research objective was to investigate the ways in which the 19th-century pro-family movement, as represented by the National League for the Protection of the Family, exploited family discourse to undermine women’s attempts to disrupt inflexible gendered family arrangements. The following research question guided the analysis: How did the discourse of the National League for the Protection of the Family deploy rhetorical images of family to subvert women’s quest for increased autonomy? My research method involved doing line-byline coding of the data, while allowing themes to emerge around the notion of family crisis or family breakdown. As coding proceeded, I identified indicators of the emerging themes, going back and forth between the themes and the data. Themes and indicators were grouped into the analytical categories of “family as natural,” “threats to the natural family,” and “natural family as patriotic family.” I examined and reexamined the data for additional indicators of these categories, until a point of saturation was

reached. After grouping and extracting coded segments, I began the process of interpreting this historical data in light of my research question. My interpretive stance toward historical methodology was first actively engaged in the context of coding the data. Guided by feminist theory and methodology, I believe that it is imperative to view the past from the standpoint of women and through the interpretive lens of gendered power relations. Although pro-family rhetoric is intended by its movement creators to be read as centering family, a feminist reading suggests that gender must be centered instead. Centering gender as a core construct of oppression encouraged me to code the data around the question of how family rhetoric became backlash rhetoric aimed at rolling back women’s rights. Doing so allowed me to grasp how profamily rhetoric could, in fact, be a proxy for antifeminism and, thus, generate ambivalence for women committed both to family and to their own autonomy. Study Findings As noted above, the three main interrelated rhetorical themes that emerged from the data included descriptions of “the family as natural,” “the natural family as threatened,” and “the natural family as patriot.” The following discussion summarizes the research published in my Journal of Family Issues article, “Women’s Rights and Wedding Bells: 19th Century Pro-Family Rhetoric and (Re)Enforcement of the Gender Status Quo” (Adams, 2007), to which the reader is referred for additional details. The emergent themes addressed in Adams are presented below, along with illustrative quotes that demonstrate my categorization scheme. The Family as Natural The discourse of the National League for the Protection of the Family was premised on the “natural family,” invoking images of the family as grounded in natural law and implying an idyllic, idealized, moral, religious, and traditional family. Moreover, this family was portrayed as ahistorical and unchanging through dimensions of time and space. For instance, in the following passage, Reverend Dike (1884) portrayed the family as grounded in transhistorical religious imagery, saying,

18. Engendering Family Past Let any one turn to the words of Christ . . . and he cannot fail to see how careful our Lord was, in recovering Divorce from the wretched conventionalism of the times to truly religious ground, to lay the foundations of Marriage, or rather the family, on the solid ground of natural law. (p. 189)

Natural law, revealed by God, was seen as binding on all. Traditional family imagery created in the context of natural law talk implied hierarchical and rigidly gendered family roles (Marty, 2005). Picking up on the theme of the idyllic and ahistorical family, another board member of the National League for the Protection of the Family described the natural family as the foundation of society and all social institutions, observing, We must recognize that the family, not the individual, is the unit of society; that family morality is at the foundation of all morality, family religion at the foundation of all religion, and happiness in the home, the security of happiness everywhere. (Dickerman, 1883, p. 6)

Finally, when juxtaposed against the “natural family,” 19th-century family realities, which included falling marriage rates, rising divorce rates, and changing gender arrangements, were portrayed as abnormal, deviant, and immoral. The opposite of the “natural” family, the “problem family” resulted when society intentionally or unintentionally strayed from the form or function of the natural family. Thus, Dike (1887) observes that the misuse and misapprehension of the family are a source of peril. When any social institution enters so universally into the whole structure of society, and does so large a share of its work as the family, misuse, whether in positively erroneous forms of activity, or in neglect to secure proper exercise of natural functions, is perilous in the extreme, and all the more so, because the evil is subtle. (p. 10)

These excerpts from the discourse of the National League for the Protection of the Family demonstrate how the organization and its spokespersons developed the foundation for an “ideal” family in natural law, against which it counterposed the embodied 19th-century family as deviant and immoral. This discourse of the natural family provides a clear example of

243

the dualistic thinking that characterized malecentered notions about the family. The “natural” family was married, gender-traditional, and implicitly White and native-born, while “problem” families engaged changing gender, racial/ethnic, and family norms that increased the anxiety of White, middle-class men whose privileges were challenged by these changes. These were the men, moreover, who constituted the National League for the Protection of the Family and who led the 19th-century profamily movement (Grossberg, 1985). Threats to the Natural Family The “breakdown of the family” has been a major concern of pro-family organizations and their rhetoric, implicating the problem family versus the natural family as a story of evil versus good—and, in much of the pro-family discourse, evil appears to be winning out. In this regard, the declining proportion of the White, native-born population in the late 19th century relative to that of the burgeoning immigrant population led to fears of “race suicide” (Roosevelt, 1907), encapsulating a feared threat that effectively conflated race and immigration status. Discourse of the National League for the Protection of the Family produced an impressing amount of ostensible “evidence” to “explain” how and why families were on a steep downward moral slope, some of which capitalized on fears regarding “race suicide.” For instance, in 1881, Reverend Dike (1881) spoke of certain “disintegrating tendencies in modern society” that affected American families, including problems growing out of Mormonism, divorce, and the practical, pressing questions of the social condition of the colored people of the South, of the Indian problem, of the fusion of the immigrant classes with our people, and the dangers from the rapid development of our immense material resources. (p. 163)

While some of the evidence engaged statistical trends, thus purporting to report “facts” about family decline, much of it was ideological in nature, situating the cause of family decline in the related camps of “rampant individualism” and “women’s rights.” Linking the problem of individualism with various rights movements of the era, Dike (1909) observed that

244

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

the rise of the temperance reform, the period of great revivals of religion, the anti-slavery discussion, the beginnings of the agitation for the rights of women . . . tended to single out the individual from the groups to which he had belonged and treat him from the egoistic I basis, magnifying his rights instead of his duties. (p. 12)

Women, in particular, were to blame for family decline, according to the National League for the Protection of the Family. But, as suggested above, blaming women for the problem family was very much tied up with issues of race and nationality. Thus, while women (generally) and their quest for autonomy threatened the natural, traditional family and its inherent gender roles, White, native-born women were accused of causing the decline of the American family, which itself was implicitly White (and its members, native-born). In this way, women were excoriated for their search for independence, and, at the same time, White, nativeborn women were chastised for allegedly abandoning their country. Thus, representatives of the National League for the Protection of the Family observe, If any one is interested in the purity and the perpetuity of the home, woman is. She is guardian of the birth gate; she is free; has equal range of education; served (according to the last census) in nearly every industry . . . yet she must share, at least, the ultimate responsibility for the birth rate, and it is by her that two thirds of the divorces are demanded . . . , and it is the American woman, not the foreigner, who is so often voluntarily childless. (Merriman & Dike, 1907, pp. 4–5)

In this way, the pro-family argument of the National League for the Protection of the Family identified excessive individualism as the cause of the breakdown of the natural family, and, in particular, the excessive individualism of feminists who sought to disrupt traditional gendered family roles. This pro-family rhetoric is androcentric in that it identifies women as the problem, while also engaging dualisms that posit women as either good family members or as individuals— but not as both simultaneously. I interpreted these two themes, the family as natural, and threat to the natural family, as indicators of backlash to the first wave of the women’s movement, as they centered on men’s interest in returning women to their traditional gendered

family arrangements. A third theme also emerged from coding the data, which I termed family as patriot. This theme engaged White, native-born women’s flight from their domestic responsibilities, and because these women held the key to the supremacy of the American (implicitly White and native-born) family, its articulation justified state action in the form of laws regulating marriage and divorce to prevent them, in the name of the nation, from allegedly forsaking their collective duty. Family as Patriot The three themes emerging from the discourse of the National League for the Protection of the Family are closely related and representative quotes overlap thematically. Nevertheless, because of the prevalence of race and nationality discourse in the historical documents I examined, I coded a third theme that engaged the intersection of gender and race/immigration status issues. The 19th-century movement for women’s rights and the pro-family backlash led by the National League for the Protection of the Family were both crusades by and for White, native-born women and White, native-born men, respectively. For this reason, the prevalence of race and immigration status in the backlash discourse implicated the natural family as White and native-born and as emblematic of the American family. Thus, when women, generally, abandoned their gendered duty to the family, it was an affront and a threat to men as a group; when White, native-born women, however, abandoned their family duties, it was an affront to the nation. Establishing patriotism as inherent dedication to the idealized natural family, Reverend Dike (1898, p. 4) notes that “patriotism—a word due to the historical relation of the Nation to the Family—is in the last analysis even more dependent upon the Family than it is on either the political or the military arms of the government.” Moreover, women did their patriotic duty by fulfilling their “natural” family roles, such that so long as mothers and wives are a living power behind citizens and soldiers, and while the interests of the country demand the best possible of womanly influence over the individual, for so long will the nation be slow to lessen in any way that power of woman which is exerted through her sex. (Dike, 1881, p. 158)

18. Engendering Family Past

Pursuant to this discourse, as long as White families (read White, native-born women) shirked their patriotic duties, the nation was in deep trouble. Thus, according to Reverend Dike (1887, p. 4), “The declining fruitfulness of the family—especially among people of the socalled native stock, has become a matter of serious concern.” Specifically, if White, native-born women failed to realize their interest in preserving the (White) family, the nation was essentially lost. Dike (1890) engaged this pessimism when he noted, It is not hard to understand that the future of this country is dependent in part upon the relative operation of these powers of reproduction. . . . In this way we may perhaps turn to our advantage the greater reproductive powers of certain classes. (p. 386)

Along with President Teddy Roosevelt (1907), whose ominous predictions about national race suicide stimulated “patriots” to action, the National League for the Protection of the family worried over a marked decrease for fifty years in the native as compared with the foreign-born birth rate. . . . [W]hatever be the causes, at a time when a million foreigners a year are to be assimilated, that the transforming agencies in the most favored walks of life are numerically declining in ratio is an ominous fact for the American family. (Merriman & Dike, 1907, p. 8)

White, native-born women were blamed for this frightening scenario, as were their attempts to disengage from their traditional gendered family roles. Thus, It looks as if there is a prevalent and growing intention . . . to let the inferior classes rear most of the children. Many of the families which are best fitted so far as pecuniary means and social opportunity are concerned are deliberately choosing to be unfruitful. (Dike, 1887, p. 4)

When viewed as a whole, these themes delineate a pro-family agenda that moves beyond marriage and family promotion to articulate an antifeminist subtext that blames women for destroying the natural family through their excessive individualism (their quest for autonomy from inflexible gendered family arrangements). This pro-family

245

agenda also articulates a theme that involves the intersection of oppressions grounded in gender, race, and immigration status—the notion that it is the duty of White, native-born women to reproduce the American (read natural) family. This racist and xenophobic subtext privileges White families over families of color and immigrant families. Thus, this agenda effectively engages the “matrix of domination” by articulating a hierarchy of interests based on the intersection of gender, race, and immigration status. This sexist/racist/xenophobic pro-family agenda can be seen as simultaneously denying women’s interests (in autonomy) and engaging (White, nativeborn) women’s interests in (re)producing the American family. Viewing 19th-Century Pro-Family Discourse Through a Feminist Historical Lens If a researcher were to take the discourse of the 19th-century pro-family movement at face value (i.e., as a historical “fact” needing little interpretation), then it could be viewed as a discursive expression of alarm over the breakdown of family and a rallying point from which to begin reconstructing the family in a traditionally viable manner. This understanding of the discourse would privilege an androcentric viewpoint assumed to be universal and contribute to dualistic conceptions of the family as good or evil, women as wives/mothers or autonomous individuals (a gendered articulation of good vs. evil), and American families as White or “not American.” It would, that is, reinforce the hierarchies based on gender, race, and immigration status that have historically privileged White men at the expense of women, people of color, and the foreign-born. Once a feminist historical lens is applied, however, a different interpretation of the discourse emerges. Centering gender, rather than family, encourages the researcher to see the androcentrism and dualistic thinking embedded in the discourse and allows the antifeminist, racist, and xenophobic subtexts to emerge. When viewing the pro-family rhetoric from women’s standpoint, the assumption that the natural, traditional (White) family is the family form that best articulates everyone’s interests is “made visible” and implicitly called into question, as is the assumption that this racially coded family is the only family form that can represent the national interest. Naturalized

246

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

dualisms such as those that posit family as either traditional/moral or changing/immoral can be seen as social constructions, as can dualisms suggesting that women cannot be good wives/ mothers and autonomous in their own right at the same time. A feminist historical lens shows that this latter articulation of women’s “place” is grounded in a male-centered historical narrative designed to construct women’s “selves” around men’s interests. When the embedded interests in that historical narrative are articulated through a feminist lens, new narrative constructions can be envisioned in the present. Finally, when viewed through a feminist historical methodological frame, the whole project of pro-family discourse can be seen in terms of its articulation and reinforcement of power hierarchy, both between men and women, and between Whites, people of color, and the foreign-born.

CONCLUSION Feminist historical methodology provides an approach for viewing family discourse in alternative ways, as this study of 19th-century pro-family discourse suggests. More generally, it creates an opportunity (and a conceptual space) for researchers to envision the history of gender oppression in new ways that expose the androcentrism and dualistic thinking that naturalize such domination. In doing so, it forces the researcher to consider and address the power relations embedded in traditional accounts of history. This perspective encourages researchers to see power as socially constructed in particular historical contexts. Understanding the specificity of historical constructions allows researchers and social activists to envision conditions under which such power can be disrupted. The benefits of examining history through a feminist historical lens extend beyond exposing the gaps in, and revisioning, traditional accounts, however. Historical research is important in that it not only allows researchers to view the past through the eyes of the present, but it also allows them to view the present through the lens of the past. Feminist historical methodology provides a foundation for deconstructing gender oppression today by seeing how it was constructed historically. Thus, my analysis of the antifeminism, racism, and xenophobia embedded in the profamily discourse of the 19th-century National

League for the Protection of the Family provided me with a model for analyzing the pro-family discourse of the contemporary Family Research Council (a de facto modern version of the 19th-century group). As detailed in my broader study comparing 19th- and 20th-century pro-family rhetoric (Adams, 2003) and summarized in Adams (2007), striking similarities are evident in the rhetoric of the two pro-marriage, pro-family organizations. Like its earlier counterpart, the Family Research Council also promotes an “idealized” family as the natural family. However, while the idealized natural family promoted by the National League for the Protection of the family was married, White, and native-born, that of the Family Research Council is married and heterosexual. Along these lines, Family Research Council policy expert Timothy Dailey (2001) warns, “As history shows, a society that champions [same-sex] unions at the expense of traditional families does so at its own peril.” Basing ideal family on natural law, as did the 19th-century organization, the Family Research Council’s Peter Sprigg (2004) observes, It is important for society to continue to uphold the traditional family structure as the ideal family . . . because it is the structure most consistent with what the American Declaration of Independence refers to as “the laws of nature and of nature’s God.”

In this statement, Sprigg explicitly links the higher power of natural law with the (secular) higher power of nation; thus, the Family Research Council’s idealized family (like that of the 19thcentury National League for the Protection of the Family) is also the American family. Moreover that family is, according to the Family Research Council, on the verge of the abyss: Our worldview (and its attendant political aspirations) is defined . . . by the drama of a family that is set in a garden where it falls into ruin. As the story unfolds, social pathologies are manifested as a consequence of disordered affections and family dysfunction. (Crippen, 2003, p. iii)

Finally, also mirroring the 19th-century pro-family rhetoric, the feminist struggle for women’s rights is linked causally with family breakdown: “The feminist movement has weakened the

18. Engendering Family Past

foundational institution of life—the family” (Carbone, 1999, p. 16). Viewing movements for marriage and family promotion through a feminist historical lens has allowed me to see not only how pro-family discourse has been used in the past to coerce women into staying in gendered family arrangements that may not be in their best interest but also how that rhetoric continues to be used similarly today. Historical rhetoric blamed women for the demise of the family and White, native-born women for the demise of the “American” family; contemporary rhetoric blames feminists and a feminist movement that promotes the rights of marginalized individuals, including gays and lesbians, for family breakdown. Understanding how profamily discourse tends to emerge after a period of gains on behalf of women and marginalized groups, and, importantly, how that discourse is used to intimidate these groups into submission “in the name of the family” will allow us to move beyond the dichotomous “ideal family/problem family” that the discourse encourages. As historian Joan Wallach Scott observes (1999), “History’s representations of the past help construct gender for the present” (p. 2). It is only by recognizing how this construction occurs in a historical sense that we can hope to transform family relations today and, in the process, move toward a more just future for women and marginalized groups tomorrow.

REFERENCES Adams, M. (2007). Women’s rights and wedding bells: 19th century pro-family rhetoric and (re)enforcement of the gender status quo. Journal of Family Issues, 28, 501–528. Adams, M. A. (2003). Constructing the essential family: A comparison of nineteenth and twentieth century marriage reform movements. Unpublished dissertation, Department of Sociology, University of California–Riverside. Alcoff, L., & Potter, E. (1993). Feminist epistemologies. New York: Routledge. Allen, K. R. (2001). Feminist visions for transforming families: Desire and equality then and now. Journal of Family Issues, 22(6), 793–811. Armstrong, D. (2003). Historical voices: Philosophical idealism and the methodology of “voice” in the history of education. History of Education, 32(2), 201–217. Bordo, S. (1987). The flight to objectivity. Albany: State University of New York Press. Bordo, S. (1990). Feminism, postmodernism, and genderscepticism. In L. Nicholson (Ed.), Feminism/postmodernism (pp. 133–156). New York: Routledge. Busha, C., & Harter, S. P. (1980). Research methods in librarianship: Techniques and interpretations. New York: Academic Press. Carbone, L. A. (1999, June 21). Champions of the sisterhood or big brother? Family Policy, June, 1–16.

247

Collingwood, R. G. (1961). The idea of history. London: Oxford University Press. Collins, P. H. (2000). Black feminist thought: Knowledge, consciousness, and the politics of empowerment (2nd ed.). New York: Routledge. Connell, R. W. (1990). The state, gender, and sexual politics: Theory and appraisal. Theory and Society, 19(5), 507–544. Crippen, A. R., II. (2003). Foreword. Family Policy Review, 1(1), iii-iv. Dailey, T. J. (2001). Homosexual parenting: Placing children at risk. Insight 238. Retrieved April 25, 2008, from www.frc.org Davidson, J. W., & Lytle, M. H. (1992). After the fact: The art of historical detection. New York: McGraw-Hill. de Lauretis, T. (1990). Upping the anti [sic] in feminist theory. In M. Hirsch & E. F. Keller (Eds.), Conflicts in feminism (pp. 255–270). New York: Routledge. DeVault, M. (1999). Liberating method: Feminism and social research. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Dickerman, G. S. (1883, June 21). The divorce evil. Report of a Committee of the General Conference of Maine, Maine. Dike, S. W. (1881, September 8). The effect of lax divorce legislation upon the stability of American institutions. Speech to the American Social Science Association at Saratoga, NY. Dike, S. W. (1884). Some aspects of the divorce question. Princeton Review, 169–190. Dike, S. W. (1887, December 8). Perils to the family. Address delivered to the Evangelical Alliance Conference at Washington, DC. Dike, S. W. (1890). Problems of the family. The Century: A Popular Quarterly, 39(3), 385–395. Dike, S. W. (1898). Annual report of the National League for the Protection of the Family, Year ending 12/31/1898. Boston: Everett Press. Dike, S. W. (1909). Annual report of the National League for the Protection of the Family, Year ending 12/31/1909. Boston: Fort Hill Press. Dumont, M. (1989). The influence of feminist perspectives on historical research methodology. In W. Tomm (Ed.), The effects of feminist approaches on research methodologies (pp. 111–130). Waterloo, Ontario, Canada: Wilfrid Laurier University Press. East, J. F. (1998). In-dependence: A feminist postmodern deconstruction. Affilia: Journal of Women & Social Work, 13(3), 273–288. Elton, G. (1991). Return to essentials: Some reflections on the present state of historical study. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Evans, S. M. (1989). Born for liberty: A history of women in America. New York: Free Press. Faludi, S. (1991). Backlash: The undeclared war against American women. New York: Crown. Foucault, M. (1972). The archaeology of knowledge. London: Tavistock. Foucault, M. (1973). The order of things: An archaeology of the human sciences. New York: Random House. Foucault, M. (1977). Power/knowledge. New York: Pantheon Books. Grossberg, M. (1985). Governing the hearth: Law and the family in nineteenth-century America. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press. Harding, S. (1986). The science question in feminism. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Harding, S. (1991). Whose science? Whose knowledge? Thinking from women’s lives. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Hartsock, N. C. M. (1983). The feminist standpoint: Developing the ground for a specifically feminist historical materialism. In S. Harding & M. B. Hintikka (Eds.), Discovering reality: Feminist perspectives on epistemology, metaphysics, methodology and philosophy of science (pp. 283–310). Dordrecht, the Netherlands: Kluwer Academic. Howell, M., & Prevenier, W. (2001). From reliable sources: An introduction to historical methods. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Jacobs, K. (2001). Historical perspectives and methodologies: Their relevance for housing studies? Housing, Theory and Society, 18, 127–135.

248

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

Janssen-Jurreit, M. (1982). Sexism: The male monopoly on the history of thought. London: Pluto Press. Kelly-Gadol, J. (1976). The social relation of the sexes: Methodological implications of women’s history. Signs, 1(4), 809–823. Lengermann, P. M., & Niebrugge, G. (2008). Contemporary feminist theory. In G. Ritzer (Ed.), Sociological theory (pp. 450–497). New York: McGraw-Hill. Lerner, G. (1979). The majority finds its past: Placing women in history. New York: Oxford University Press. Lorber, J. (2007). Gender inequality: Feminist theories and politics (3rd ed.). New York: Oxford University Press. Marty, M. E. (2005). The religious foundations of law. Emory Law Journal, 54, 291–323. Mason, R. O., McKenney, J. L., & Copeland, D. G. (1997). An historical method for MIS research: Steps and assumptions. MIS Quarterly, 307–320. Merriman, D., & Dike, S. W. (1907). Report of the committee on family. Special issues of the National League for the Protection of the Family for 1907. Morawska, E. (1998). A historical turn in feminism and historical sociology: Convergences and differences. Social Politics, 5(1), 38–47. Neuborne, E. (2001). Imagine my surprise. In Findlen, B. (Ed.), Listen up: Voices from the next feminist generation (pp. 182–187). New York: Seal Press. Nicholson, L. J. (1986). Gender and history: The limits of social theory in the age of the family. New York: Columbia University Press. Oakeshott, M. (1933). Experience and its modes. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Ramazanog˘lu, C. (with Holland, J.). (2002). Feminist methodology: Challenges and choices. London: Sage.

Reinharz, S. (1992). Feminist methods in social research. New York: Oxford University Press. Roosevelt, T. (1907). A letter from President Roosevelt on race suicide. American Monthly Review of Reviews, 35, 550–551. Rosaldo, M. Z. (1980). The use and abuse of anthropology: Reflections on feminism and cross-cultural understanding. Signs, 5(3), 389–417. Scott, J. (1986). Gender: A useful category of historical analysis. American Historical Review, 91, 1053–1075. Scott, J. (1990). A matter of record. Cambridge, UK: Polity Press. Scott, J. W. (1999). Gender and the politics of history. New York: Columbia University Press. Shapiro, A. (1992). Introduction: History and feminist theory, or talking back to the beadle. History and feminist theory, 31, 1–14. Smith, D. (1987). The everyday world as problematic: A feminist sociology. Boston: Northeastern University Press. Smith, D. (1997). Comment on Hekman’s ‘Truth and method: Feminist standpoint theory revisited.’ Signs, 22(2), 392–398. Sprague, J., & Zimmerman, M. K. (1989). Quality and quantity: Reconstructing feminist methodology. The American Sociologist, 20(1), 71–86. Sprigg, P. S. (2004, March 29). Homosexuality. Speech delivered on behalf of the Family Research Council at the World Congress of Families III, Mexico City, Mexico. Retrieved April 27, 2008, from www.frc.org Tomm, W. (1989). Introduction. In W. Tomm (Ed.), The effects of feminist approaches on research methodologies (pp. 1–12). Waterloo, Ontario, Canada: Wilfrid Laurier University Press.

19 FEMINIST METHODOLOGY IN PRACTICE Collecting Data on Domestic Violence in India N IVEDITHA M ENON

A

feminist researcher creating a feminist text has to answer a few necessary questions. Do the participants featured in the feminist text have a stake in the representation offered to them? Should they have a stake? Is the text that is produced from the interaction of the respondents and the researcher relevant to its audience? Who is the audience, and how is it constituted? In answering these questions, feminist methodologists have recognized the problems inherent in satisfying two audiences (academic readers and participants) at the same time (Enslin, 1994). For example, if the participants from whom information is gathered for the feminist study are illiterate, how then can a feminist text be made relevant to them? In response, feminists have initiated a dialogue that examines the methodologies that focus on not only conceptualizing and conducting feminist research but also the (re)presentation of this research (Haraway, 1998; Visweswaran, 1997). Thus, feminist methodologists have critically examined the representation of participants and have documented the difficulty in presenting multiple, contradictory realities rather than homogenizing or categorizing human behavior (Lal, 1996).

Representing subjects or participants in a feminist study can also be complex when we examine subaltern participants. Although subaltern perspectives have historically been used to indicate any perspective that sets itself against and/or in opposite to any hegemonic grand narrative (Spivak, 1988), I use it primarily to indicate the relationships of power and control that can dominate the research process. For example, subaltern participants have historically been represented as passive recipients of information and policies, “vulnerable” to patriarchal discourses without any recourse of their own (Deshpande, 2001; Gordon & Behar, 1995; Grewal, 1998). In this process, we run the danger of ignoring not only the subjectivity and agency of the participants in the research process but also our own complicity in producing only certain kinds of narratives. Thus, those of us engaged in research involving the interactions and representations of subaltern participants have to be cognizant of and reflective about our role in the historically and contemporary exploitative relationships that exist between colonizers and the colonized (Wolf, 1996). The researcher not only has access (read power) to the participants’ partial truths but 249

250

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

also has control over the ways in which these truths are framed and represented. This power relationship is established not only by the process of documenting research and presenting it to an outside audience but also through the process of gaining access to participants. Thus, the processes of information collection, analysis, and representation have multiple sources of control and power with which both the respondent and the researcher have to deal. I will be examining some of these sources of power and control in this chapter, primarily focusing on the politics of identity and representation in the context of my research on domestic violence in India. I first present some of the tenets of feminist methodology and reassess them with respect to research in nations from the Global South. To contextualize my analysis, I use my dissertation research as an exemplar, examining the conceptualization of my research questions, describing the research study and sites, and expanding on the research methods used to answer the research questions. I also document the specific problems I encountered while enacting my feminist methodology, including—but not limited to—participant and researcher problems. In response to these specific problems, I reexamine the identity politics that are inherent in any feminist study and propose an approach that advocates for a joint production of knowledge that privileges neither the researcher nor the participants. Thus, the overall objective of this chapter is to examine the power relationships that occur among the researcher, the participant, and the audience, through the politics of identity and representation.

FEMINIST METHODOLOGY Historically, feminist methodology has endeavored to uncover hidden spaces of power and privilege in the conducting and writing of research. Feminist researchers have argued that purely positivist approaches, by nature of their methodology, are not adequately self-reflective and are typically not accountable to the individuals that they portray. In traditional research, participants who are asked questions are powerless to change or edit how they are represented in text. Most positivist-oriented research tends to mask the sexist, racist, and ethnocentric assumptions that are present in the theories and presentation

of the research findings (Visweswaran, 1994). Feminists argue that by ignoring the subjectivities of the researcher as well the researched, only “fragments of decontextualized human experience” can be examined (Sprague & Zimmerman, 1993, p. 258). Feminist researchers have not only critiqued objectivity but also questioned its desirability (Sprague & Zimmerman, 1993). By engaging in an epistemology that transcends the binaries of objectivity and subjectivity, feminists are able to embrace the idea that knowledge of social reality is marred not only by the sociopolitical context of “reality,” but also by the personal concerns and commitments of the researcher involved in the knowledge production. By being conscious of the situated nature of knowledge production, feminist researchers aim to be more cognizant of the implications of their work inside and outside the research site (Enslin, 1994). Therefore, any feminist project requires the self-reflexivity of the researcher in theorizing, conducting, and presenting the research project. One of the primary ways that feminists introduce this self-reflexivity is through writing about it. Writing as a method of social change has been embraced by feminist academics, primarily because it can be used effectively as a tool for breaking the silence on oppression. Some feminists are concerned with changing the status quo that devalues women and other oppressed groups, and writing about oppressed groups “has the potential for challenging hegemonic assumptions about human histories and futures” (Enslin, 1994, p. 559; see also Lewis, this volume, for further discussion of nonactivist and activistoriented feminists). Feminists change assumptions first by validating women’s personal narratives. Women’s life stories give insight into the richness of gendered relations and the processes by which women negotiate them (Enslin, 1994). The articulation of oppression in written form has been and is still critical to understanding the social reality of some groups. However, this dependency on writing as a tool for social change has some pitfalls. The way in which research studies are conducted and written tends to limit the audience, at least in terms of literacy. When knowledge is created or produced by researchers in social groups where illiteracy is prominent among participants, and this knowledge is translated for audiences who can read and write (in English or in other languages), then

19. Feminist Methodology in Practice

participants are not likely to benefit from the creation of this knowledge. For example, according to the United Nations Statistics Division, about two thirds of women in the world do not have access to primary education and are illiterate. Thus, even with wide distribution of research findings, any research is often limited to a fairly small audience (Enslin, 1994). In addition, narratives do not form linear patterns. Contradictions within narratives often abound, and this does not find easy translation in a linear, structured text. The process of creating a text transforms a social reality that cannot be “fixed” in time-bound space. So feminist methodologists are concerned with closing gaps (political, cultural, and material) among “those who write, those who read, and those who are written about” (p. 552). Measures to close these gaps can especially be problematic when researchers trained in the Western tradition cross boundaries to study, represent, and interact with participants from the Global South. Some researchers argue that these stories are often represented as essentialized narratives of “cultural” phenomenon, without addressing the power relationships that mark the researcher and the researched (Wolf, 1996). For example, feminist researchers in the field (whether in the Global South or not) have to work in situations where three differences of power are constantly being negotiated: (a) power differences inherent in the identities of the researcher and the researched; (b) power differences during the research process, especially in defining the nature of the exchange; and (c) power differences during the writing and representation of the exchange. These differences can be greater in the context of the Global South because the historical tradition of “going native” to gain “authentic” narratives masks the researcher’s power in representing and modifying a narrative (Wolf). Feminist methodologists have recognized that the representation of the “truth” can unwittingly contribute to continuing systems of oppression and privilege. While gender might unite the researcher and the participant in certain studies, invariably, power differences related to race, class, religion, political domination, and sometimes language and nationality can easily divide them (Few, Stephens, & Rouse-Annett, 2003). This difference in positionality is not necessarily a handicap for the researcher. One cannot exclude the possibility that different forms of information can be gleaned by researchers who

251

are in different social positions compared with their participants (Narayan, 1997b; Wolf, 1996). Because researchers are in a position to view the social problems and structure of a given research study differently than the participants themselves, they bring to the table different perspectives. Feminists reject the automatic assumption that we need to privilege and understand the views of participants over the views of researchers (Risman, 1990). Instead, we can question not only our complicity but also the complicity of our participants in producing certain kinds of narratives. Otherwise, we run the danger of ignoring the subjectivity and agency of the participants in the research process as well as our own. Additionally, identities are fluid and subject to change depending on their context. Individuals (whether participants or researchers) oftentimes inhabit borderlands, physical and metaphorical spaces in which hegemonic paradigms of culturally defined rules and roles are constantly negotiated and questioned, so that the knowing of a “self” or an “identity” is always rendered partial (Anzaldúa, 1987; Haraway, 1998; Harrison & Montoya, 1996). One of the corrective measures for this particular problem is reflexivity on the part of the researcher. Taking into consideration one’s own subjectivity and the prevailing social structures that place researchers and participants into different and/or similar spheres can be useful in any study of social phenomenon. Reflexivity on the part of the researcher during and after the research process can give us more information than singular versions of social reality. The challenge for a researcher working with subaltern participants is three pronged. She or he has to be aware not only of the power relationships that shape narratives created jointly by participants and the researcher but also of the power of the audience in shaping this representation and, consequently, of the implementation of policies based on these representations. To understand the process of practicing this reflexivity during data collection, analysis, and documentation, I next elaborate on the context and purpose of my research.

MY RESEARCH STUDY My primary research agenda was to bring clarity to the mechanisms of domestic violence across

252

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

cultural and familial contexts in India. I focused on the relationship between experiences of domestic violence and the different coping strategies used by women in diverse family contexts in the city of Pune, in the western region of India. I wanted to focus particularly on women’s actions in the face of violence. Women in the developing world have often been depicted as passive subjects, unable to negotiate their freedom in a context of patriarchal family structures and rigid family systems and customs (Wolf, 1996). These images of victimhood are invariably tied to the “cultural” and “traditional” practices of the Global South (Abraham, 2002; Mani, 1998), without addressing the tremendous variability in social context to be found within all cultures and societies (Narayan, 1997a; Yick & Agbayani-Siewert, 1997). In my study of domestic violence, I wanted to examine the ways in which men and women interact and reconstitute their social and family relations. Thus, the aim of my research project was to expand the understanding of domestic violence beyond simplistic models of power, control, and patriarchal ideology. Accordingly, I designed four primary questions: 1. What are the different types of control that families exert over women in situations of domestic violence? 2. How do the different contexts of domestic violence influence the strategies used by families to control women’s economic and social lives? 3. What are the different coping strategies that are used by women to deal with violence in these differing contexts? 4. How are these coping strategies influenced by the interaction of particular cultural, social, and economic contexts?

For this project, I employed a blended methodology of qualitative and quantitative research methods to create a data structure useful for identifying different types of control contexts in familial violence and the differential effects of these types of domestic violence. It included a combination of primary and secondary data. The secondary data for the project came primarily from the Demographic Health Survey of India (DHS-India) conducted in 1999. These large-scale survey data were used in conjunction with primary data to create a unique data set that enabled me to better understand the

micro- and macromechanisms of domestic violence in India. The primary data collection required a diverse population with a multiplicity of family forms and family customs. Mumbai, as the biggest city in Maharashtra, was first targeted as the primary site of research. However, due to the inability of organizations in Mumbai to devote any additional resources or personnel for the purpose of the project, Pune, a neighboring city, was subsequently selected as the primary site of research. Pune was considered particularly suitable because I had institutional support from Maval Mahila Vikas Sanstha (MMVS) and Shramik Mahila Morcha (SMM). MMVS is a microcredit group that works for the financial welfare of rural women in the village of Somatne and five neighboring villages. MMVS was located in a rural area approximately 3 hours away from the city of Pune by bus. SMM is a domestic worker’s union that was established in two places, one in central Pune near the Municipal Corporation’s office, and the other in the industrialized city of Pimpri, approximately an hour away from Pune by bus. A sample of 80 women was selected with the help of these two organizations, MMVS and SMM. The fieldwork sample consisted of three primary samples, named after the location of the samples: the Somatne Sample provided by MMVS, the Pimpri Sample provided by the Pimpri office of SMM, and the Pune Sample provided by the Pune office of SMM. Along with my translator, I conducted structured and semistructured interviews over a period of 5 months from February to May of 2006. The women I interviewed can be broadly categorized into two groups: a domestic violence group and a general group. The domestic violence group consisted of known survivors of domestic violence. Caseworkers in MMVS and SMM helped identify individuals who had either recently or previously approached the organization for help in solving domestic disputes. The general group consisted of women who had not approached the organization for help with domestic violence. This sample was recruited either through the informal social networks of the organizations or the women who had already been interviewed. Interviews were conducted in two stages. The first interview was a structured questionnaire of about 80 short questions. It recorded basic demographic information and assessments of

19. Feminist Methodology in Practice

253

marital quality, decision making, experience with domestic violence, and coping strategies. These questions were modeled on the DHSIndia questions for comparability purposes. The second interview was a semistructured interview that allowed for more open-ended questions about the patterns of control and violence experienced by women. The interviews were conducted with the help of a translator, Chitra Khare, in Marathi (the regional language spoken in Pune) and occasionally, in Hindi (the national language of India). One of the major findings of this research is that it documents, for the first time, the two different kinds of violence that are currently prevalent in Indian families: situational couple violence and intimate terrorism (following the typology developed by Michael Johnson, 2008). Additionally, I was able to document that there are qualitative differences in the way women experience the different forms of violence. I also found that women used different coping mechanisms to deal with the violence. Two of the major factors that determined women’s coping strategies were the financial resources (such as economic independence or financial support from natal families) and familial resources (such as emotional support from either the natal or the marital family). If women had one of two resources, financial or familial, they were more likely to take proactive steps to either end the relationship or to end the violence within the relationship (Menon, 2008). As interesting as these findings were, the process of arriving at these results were equally illuminating. Since my research study was done in the backdrop of power relationships within the family, it was a useful exercise to analyze the power relationships that characterized the process of data collection and documentation. By investigating the decisions, tensions, and the contradictions present during the research process, I found that while feminist epistemology was able to inform the research process, it was not always easy to translate into feminist praxis.

was to find respondents who would be willing to talk to me. When I first arrived at my field site, I was informed that the organization that I had been in conversation with for the past few months was going to disband in a few weeks. So my primary concern was to find organizations which would be willing to do two things: (1) provide me the time and space to conduct my interviews and (2) have no interest in changing the direction of my project. Despite the odds, I was able to find two organizations on the strength of my relations with a key informant. Neither of the organizations, as mentioned before, were domestic violence agencies. While unanticipated, this turned out to be a boon. These two organizations gave me access to a section of the population who had experienced domestic violence but had not approached any domestic violence agency about it. Instead, the women who had experienced violence had gone to the nearest organization that they felt comfortable with. So I was able to not only recruit participants who had experienced domestic violence but also get access to women who normally would never report violence to any formal agency. While this first problem of finding organizations to work with was resolved fairly quickly, there were others that were much more difficult to work around. The main problems that I encountered in the field can be summarized into the following: (a) identities of the researcher affecting the framework of the research as well as the interaction with the translator and the participants; (b) power relationships among the researcher, the participants, and the translator; (c) the relative freedom with which women were able to express their stories; and (d) the adequate representation of these problems in an academic or a nonacademic paper. While the problems are not unfamiliar to anyone who does primary data collection, I saw them not necessarily as problems but as structural constraints that can help us create and implement a better feminist methodology.

APPLICATION OF FEMINIST METHODOLOGY

Lost in Translation

The questions of representation and identity in the field were far from my mind when I started my data collection. The most important concern

One of the more obvious problems that I anticipated before my fieldwork commenced was the language barrier. I am proficient in Hindi and I was familiar with Marathi because of its close relationship with Hindi. Because I

254

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

wasn’t proficient in Marathi (the language spoken by most of my participants), I decided to hire an interpreter to assist me in conducting interviews with most of the urban and rural participants. I realized that hiring an interpreter tends to create problems for the researcher, primarily for two reasons: time and translation. During the process of conducing interviews, there is time lag between the conversations between the translator-respondent and translator-researcher. In this time lag, the spontaneity of the exchange can sometimes be lost. Second, some of the key points in the conversations can be lost in the translation. In a direct conversation between the researcher and the respondent, some of the information may lie in the silences or in the subtle nuances of the conversation. During translation, these two things may not be directly available to the researcher. I argue that this is especially true in domestic violence research. The critical conversation in any domestic violence research could potentially be the silence that women are breaking and the stigma that gets attached to the women for voicing this silence (Sharma, 2001; Wayne, 1996). The subtleties in the conversation may then be lost by paying attention to what is being said and neglecting what is not being said. In addition, in certain languages, when a slight emphasis on a sentence shifts, it can create a whole new meaning in a conversation. Without an astute translator, these shifts in conversation might be lost to the researcher. There are, of course, measures to correct for these losses. Recording the interviews and transcribing and authenticating the translations through third parties are the best ways of ensuring that nothing is lost in translation. A good translator is essential for this process. Ideally, a good translator should act as a collaborator. She or he must be aware of not only the purpose of the questionnaire or the research but also the “big picture” questions that fuel the research. Especially in domestic violence research, it is immensely beneficial to the research if the translator is an advocate for women’s rights and aligns herself or himself for women’s rights. Some miscommunication or mistakes are likely to crop up, especially at the beginning of the data collection process. Because using a translator comes with its own additional impositions on data, researchers have to pay close attention to gaps of information

so that any pertinent information is not lost in interviews conducted in the future. Outsider Status of the Researcher In addition to being separated by a degree from my participants, the language barrier also marked me as an outsider. I grew up in middleclass India, part of a matrilineal family, privileged to a large degree by familial disinterest in any forms of religious and/or caste politics or practices. So living in India did not pose any problems for me in terms of food, travel, and/or any other aspects of living in a big city. I had anticipated that my identity as a “foreignreturned” person might be of some concern when I entered the field site. Instead, my identity as a South Indian was often a source of discussion by my respondents. Although Maharashtra (where Pune is located) is the neighboring state to my home state of Andhra Pradesh, the Southern states are often considered to be culturally different from Maharashtra. This became a source of concern to my participants and the caseworkers in the organization since I did not exhibit any religious or caste markers that they were familiar with, highlighting my outsider status. While other individuals with whom I was working (such as my translator, my key informant, and my primary contact in the city) did not exhibit any religious markers, their surnames marked them as Hindu Brahmins. Given my last name was unknown or unfamiliar to most of my participants, they were unclear regarding my religious and/or caste identity. Some of them were very interested in knowing my exact caste and religious identity during the interview. Although no one refused to interview with me based on my answers to their queries of caste and religion, it became very clear from our interaction with some participants that they weren’t always comfortable not knowing the religion or the caste to which I belonged. This was usually more true for women from the higher castes than the lower castes. Hence, the language barrier was only one indication of the cultural capital that I lacked when entering the field. However, this barrier to cultural capital was not always detrimental. Since I was not aware of some of the particular customs that are prevalent in Maharashtra (especially with regards to marriage), the women often tried to explain them to me. In doing so,

19. Feminist Methodology in Practice

they would detail their lives, giving me and my translator chances of segueing into their daily lives and their interactions with other family members. In addition to caste, I often felt like an outsider in the research setting because of my class and the accompanying power that it gave me. One of the ways in which this became very visible during the research process was when I paid the participants a day’s worth of wages as compensation for answering my questions. Class was also made prominent in other less visible ways. When I first started working with the organizations, I was taken aback by automatic assumptions about the clients of the organization. Most of these assumptions were invariably tied to class or caste affiliations, and/or educational qualifications (or the lack thereof). It was sometimes ignored that women (regardless of class), facing an array of abusive situations, find it difficult to make decisions with regards to their own welfare, especially if they are facing a number of structural constraints. For example, women’s choice of staying with their husband or lack of knowledge of other options was often attributed to their caste, religion, and occasionally, class. I had to dismiss my first translator because of the ways in which she would treat and/or talk about the caste status of the participants. For example, she had this to say about a prospective participant—“Well, she is pretty for her jaat (caste).” Although this is an extreme example of the level of caste and class consciousness that permeated the organizations, I found myself constantly on guard to protect against automatic assumptions that I (based on my middle-class high-caste status) knew about my participants’ lives better than they did. I sometimes found that these assumptions were easy to make in the field. For example, when some women experiencing symptoms of high-control violence in our study could not verbally connect the high control that they were experiencing with the high levels of violence, I sometimes interpreted this disconnect as ignorance. It was only after I reviewed the transcripts outside the field site that I started to move past the personal to the structural characteristics of the participants. Relative Freedom of Participants The relative freedom of participants in narrating their stories was compromised in

255

two separate ways: space and money. The problem of space faced by some of the respondents was related, in part, not only to the physical space in which the interview was conducted but also to the emotional and mental space that was allowed to the respondent. For example, in one of the field sites, the room where we conducted our interviews consisted of a single room located on the main highways. While I made some effort to give the women some physical space, the room was too small to have any sense of privacy. Any conversations that the women had with us were often overheard by the other women in the room. This led to a few unanticipated problems that were useful to understanding the fluid nature of any narrative. For example, when one of the women started recounting her story of violence, individuals in the room who were waiting to be interviewed interjected and “corrected” her narrative, changing a few of the details in the story, since they had been witnesses to the violence. So some of the onlookers were able to articulate some of the events that the respondent hadn’t recollected or was unwilling to relate. When it was the former, it was an asset to the process, but in the case of the latter, it felt as if the respondent’s story was being told without her consent. It was being framed differently from her own narrative. By engaging with these alternative narratives, we can begin to examine the nature of women’s agency in constructing stories for the “outside” audience. By far, the fluidity of narratives is not a unique finding. Feminists have always contested the fixed nature of narratives, arguing that social scientists in the field are often the object of creative fictions of the participant so that the construction of facts and/or realities may prove to be elusive (Visweswaran, 1994). However, while recording these fluid interpretations of lived realities, it was difficult for me to figure out which version of the story to give precedence. Given that the final product of my research has multiple audiences, I realized even while I was recording the data that by representing these two very different kinds of narratives, I have inadvertently stabilized the fluidity of many narratives to a fixed time and place. Apart from making sure that the fluidity of these reconstructions is represented in the proper way, the other problem that I encountered with respect to the relative freedom of participants was

256

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

with regards to financial incentives. I compensated all the women with Rs. 50 (a U.S. dollar is approximately Rs. 44). During the interview process, there was a sense that the monetary compensation might have induced a lot of the women to participate in the interview, whether they were ready or not. This financial motivation to participate in the interview was not unduly worrisome except in cases where women were not interested in the interview and didn’t really pay attention to any questions. For example, when we asked one woman why she was being beaten by her husband, she told us that her mother-in-law had a fruit cart that she sold fruit from. After some probing, we realized the response had nothing to do with the question at all. Initially, I was unsure how to react to the women when they made a token effort. Soon, I began to draw distinctions between creative fictions that women tend to tell their “educated” audience and fictive answers that stemmed from complete disinterest. While I was prepared to encounter the first kind, I was unsure about what to do about the second. I was unprepared for the agitation I felt when I encountered women who were physically there but mentally absent. I didn’t want them to participate in my research for ethical and purely selfish reasons. I didn’t want the integrity of my research to be compromised, and I didn’t want women to tell me stories that they were not interested in telling me. But I had no way of detecting disinterest before starting the interview. In a few cases, I did discontinue the interviews, when it was very clear that the women were not ready to talk and did not want to talk about their lives. These as well as other problems gave me food for thought regarding the politics of representation and identity and the entire enterprise of doing feminist research, some of which are articulated below.

RETHINKING FEMINIST METHODOLOGY To examine the different ways in which my particular research constraints can be seen in the backdrop of the larger questions that face feminist methodology, I next analyze the power relationships that exist among the participants, the researcher, and the audience. By doing so, I argue for the deeper understanding of joint production of knowledge,

necessitating the inclusion of multiple voices in our research, even when they are contradictory. Power is usually one of the central themes of any feminist research project, particularly in the feminist study of domestic violence (Dasgupta & Warrier, 1996; Dobash & Dobash, 1979; Srivastava, 2004). Family studies scholars have tended to examine these power relationships within structures, such as family and workforce, to analyze their impact on individuals. Although power in social groups is not always contained within formal authority structures, these structures (which include formal and informal roles and networks) are easier to study and record than abstract power relationships (Jackman, 1994; Marchand & Runyan, 2000). In my study, it was difficult to locate the source and the object of power relationships until I examined the structure of power relationships among the participants, myself, and the audience. Power of the Participant The practice of studying a social phenomenon through the lens of a “native informant” has had a historical precedence in feminist study (Mies, 1980). Recently, however, analysis involving the power and agency of the “native” informant has been called into question (Narayan & Harding, 2000; Sangari, 2002). Feminists have argued that the concept of a native informant has had a history of colonialization and the narratives derived thereof have always been historically and predominately narrative of cultural essentialism (Narayan, 1997b). For example, one of the prominent examples of such cultural essentialism is the automatic assumption that a native researcher is more likely to understand other natives with ease and much more intimately than any other “outsider” (Grewal, 1998; Narayan, 1997a). However, acknowledging the privilege and/or power of the native researcher in studying her or his native land is not always easy. One of the deterrents to recognizing prevailing contexts and vectors of power is that the structures of power and authority are not easily identifiable. They are usually the amalgamation of age, language, socioeconomic status, caste, and circumstance. In my study, it was not always evident that I had “power” and/or “authority” over the participants of my research. Because of the importance of hierarchical relationships in

19. Feminist Methodology in Practice

India, age is considered to be one of the primary ways in which power is distributed, especially in family relationships wherein older members (irrespective of gender) are often bestowed with more power and authority than younger members (Mahajan, 1990; Tambiah, 1989). In this context, factors such as my age, my unmarried status, and my lack of clear caste markers, as well as my status as a South Indian, were all pertinent in the field, since they were the basis on which most of the women in my research treated me in a manner similar to how they would treat a younger member of their families. While I do not discount that I was in a position of power (at least in terms of class, caste, and educational status) compared with my participants, I was often treated as a novice even by individuals younger than I was. By only concentrating on formal structures of power, we can potentially miss out on dynamics that can become very pertinent in the field. Additionally, the ground between the respondent and myself in terms of power and authority constantly shifted in other ways. While I framed the research question and directed much of the questioning, the respondents also retained a lot of agency in framing, in refusing, and in answering my questions. While there were a number of factors that worked in my favor in terms of age, class, and caste advantages, to view the participants in any study as passive victims (especially in domestic violence research) is a disservice. As mentioned before, when my status as an outsider was known to the participants, they used this knowledge to their advantage, by becoming my teachers, creating a space of power for them in our unequal interaction. Therefore, participants must not be considered as “interchangeable instances of some abstract universal subject, they—and we—are actual, embodied subjects, struggling with the constraints of a specific gender/class/ethnic intersection and developing perspectives out of that struggle” (Sprague & Zimmerman, 1993, p. 268). Keeping this in mind, we must also be cognizant that because of this shifting ground, any interactions between the participant and the researcher are not likely to reoccur in another setting at a different time. In addition, individuals who are members of oppressed groups tend to have dual visions: the visions that their oppressors want them to see and the view that they themselves see through (Abu-Lughod, 1990; Alcoff, 1991; Oyewumi, 1997). This dual

257

vision often gives them insights into the dualism of realities that is useful in any feminist and any family studies research. For example, the women in my research were not fooled by the explanations by their husbands regarding the reasons for the violence that they were experiencing. They were able to clearly delineate the reasons they were given for the violence and the reasons that they believed were the cause of the violence. More often than not, these two types of reasons differed dramatically. While women might be very cognizant of their oppression, it does not mean that they are able to see the wider structures of oppression. It is likely that many women might be unable to see these wider structures because of their placement in the race/class/age/education spectrum. I do not mean to argue that the researcher has a greater understanding of these structures, merely a different one. Researchers argue that many individuals, not excepting the researcher, internalize the rules of their oppression and use them effectively in the context of their lives (Jackman, 1994). Our participants usually do not have worldviews that come from outside their social worlds and are less likely to reexamine them in the face of contradictory information. So we cannot always assume that the worldviews of the participants we study are completely unvarnished (Sprague & Zimmerman, 1993). While we might want to represent our participants’ lives in an unfiltered fashion, we also must acknowledge that the participants are themselves viewing the world as a result of the social relationships in which they are embroiled. At any given point, native or nonnative researchers can capture only a partial view of the realities of the participants. Often, researchers force this partial view into a global one that is likely to create distorted views of any social phenomenon. Therefore, the question of representing the Other is not necessarily about ensuring that social realities are accurately represented (although that is one of its primary aims) but how this act of agency is represented by the researcher and how it can be used to effect social change. For example, women in my study knew a lot about the violence that they experienced and even some of the reasons for the violence that was perpetrated toward them. However, they were unable to identify the precise mechanisms through which their social lives were being controlled by their husbands and the

258

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

underlying structures present in the family that condemned/condoned the use of violence. Ultimately, to create a feminist methodology that is committed to social justice and social change, we must make space for fluidity, contradictions, and fissures in the power relationship between the participant and the researcher. When the process of collecting data brings material compensation (not necessarily monetary) to the participant, it can often be an instrument of creating social change. The onus of creating such a space within a feminist research design rests with the researcher. Power of the Researcher The process of going to another country, even if it is one’s own, and studying it when the primary audience for the research resides in a different country, has significant implications for the researcher and the participant. First of all, the researcher becomes the participant’s voice in another country, a responsibility not to be taken lightly, especially if the research is directed toward policymakers. In addition, the participant usually loses considerable rights to change her narrative after the researcher records it. The researcher also bears an additional responsibility of capturing the political, social, and cultural spaces that the participant and the research inhabit. Moreover, the researcher must examine her or his complicity in continuing systems of oppression (Enslin, 1994). In addition, as mentioned before, it is critical to open spaces to help address the systems of oppression that might be witnessed in the field (Anzaldúa, 1987; Enslin, 1994). In my own study, not only did I direct the nature and flow of the questions, I also constrained participants’ narratives and captured those points that answered my research questions. In piecing together only a narrowed focus on their narratives, I might have ignored the most important events in their lives and only engaged with the narratives that furthered my argument regarding different types of control and coping mechanisms. In my quest for examining and looking for differences among the types of domestic violence, I had the power to distill a lot of information into a few sound bites. Thus, even in the best of circumstances, when women are engaged in the most ethically designed study, the power in the relationship

between the researcher and the participants tends to be more exploitative than helpful. Even the inclusion of the participants’ voices in the final product occurs at the interest and consent of the researcher. Too often, these participants’ voices are used to “rescue” the participant or to hijack women’s agency by creating a narrative of oppression or resistance. Many feminist thinkers such as Uma Narayan (1997a, 1997b), Jayati Lal (1996), Kumkum Sangari (2002), and Lata Mani (1998) have argued that such efforts can create notions of “freedom” and/or “liberation” that mask the inequalities and oppression that “liberated” women, either in the native country or in the West, themselves face with respect to inequalities in gender, class, race, ethnicity, and/or religion. Thus, it becomes essential for the researcher to create a narrative that does not discount her or his own positionality with respect to her or his participants. Since research participants are also privy to an insight into the structures of oppression that they face, there is a need to create an egalitarian feminist methodology that would give equal weight to the views of the participants and the researcher. In doing so, we need to link women’s oppression to a greater structural framework that may not feature in an individual’s own sense of oppression. One of the ways to do this is to examine the identity of the researcher beyond the roles of an insider and an outsider, while acknowledging that the researcher is more likely to be an outsider because of the difference in class, knowledge base, and the process of knowledge production (Narayan, 1997a). By doing this, we minimize the risk of treating the subjects as the Universal Other and situate them in the text as people with their own views and ideas about their lives and the research at hand. This is an uncomfortable process, and to shape all feminist methodologies as a practice in understanding power in differences does not come easy. Along with this critical self-examination, we must also reconcile ourselves that instead of struggling for an abstract objectivity, we will probably arrive at an interaction where the production of knowledge is an ongoing process that has consequences beyond the field. Power of the Audience The end result of any research project is the written manuscript, usually but not exclusively

19. Feminist Methodology in Practice

geared toward academic audiences. The structural constraints of an academic paper, including academic-style writing, oftentimes make the knowledge produced by the research inaccessible to the participants. Unless the researcher makes conscious efforts to make sure the research finds its way back to the participants, most of the research tends to be circulated within academic or policy networks. While some of this does get filtered to the participants via the channels of policy networks or changes made in the law, there is often very little interaction between the participant and the finished product of a research project. Enslin (1994) argues that any study done on the less privileged for the benefit of the more privileged, in a world where there are gross inequalities of gender, race, class, caste, and/or geography, is fundamentally unethical. Instead, she argues that our research methods must transcend some of the boundaries that trap academic writing and must explore options that are beyond writing. Language, and sometimes even the written word, can be alien to the participants. Although translation can be an effective means of ensuring that the participant has access to the material, from personal experience, I have found that translations between audiences can often be an arduous task that does not always do the original thought or narrative full justice. It becomes all the more complicated in cases (such as mine) where more than half of the women I interviewed were illiterate. One of the challenges posed for any feminist researcher who is interested in creating a feminist text is to close the gaps (political, cultural, and material) among “those who write, those who read, and those who are written about” (Enslin, 1994, p. 552). This, however, does not mean that we abandon the project of writing as a means of instituting social change. The use of writing, especially in academia, has been the primary way of understanding and representing social reality. At the same time, in any feminist project, we need to start assessing the effects of the power that academic writing has over other forms of writing and modes of expression. For example, Visweswaran (1994) argues that the realities of social life have been and can well be presented through folk tales, stories, and poetry. In my study, I found that in many instances, when writing about violence became too

259

confining, the inclusion of poetry in the writing brought the focus of the chapter together and helped ground the conversation about a particular topic. For example, when talking about complex family relationships in my research, I found the inclusion of the poem The New Wife by Wang Chien (768–830) particularly useful since it illustrates not only the power and control among family members but also similarities with other cross-cultural families (see Milosz, 1996, for the translated poem). Although the poem is set in China a thousand years ago, it continues to be relevant to the context of domestic violence and women’s position in the complex family form in India. These alternative means of expressing an idea, however, can prove to be inadequate when we have to record silences between narratives. During my research study, I found that I could glean a lot of information about women’s lives from their refusal to answer certain kinds of questions. The topics that women avoided, or refused to answer, gave me some insight into their overall life narratives. However, it is very difficult to capture silence in transcription and on paper. To analyze the role of silence in a narrative, I requested my translator to mark all the pauses and long silences in the transcription. I indicated these silences in my quotations so that the audience could assess the impact of the silence for themselves. Although this is one way of ensuring that meaningful silences were not lost on analysis, verification of these silences or the meaning of each of the silences is very subjective, and can be extremely problematic in written form. In fact, some researchers argue that by the very act of naming a silence, we might violate the multiple meaning of silences (Alcoff, 1991; Mahoney, 1996; Wayne, 1996). Another problem with employing different means of writing is the relative power of the researcher in the academic circle. Researchers, especially early in their careers, rarely have the choice to decide approaches that would fit their research questions perfectly (Enslin, 1994). Considering that feminist scholars are typically working within the structure of academia and its writing, employing alternative methods (unless supported by a wider audience) might create (unfavorable) consequences. Therefore, the power dynamics in any feminist study can

260

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

extend beyond the field and involve the power that the academic audience has over the academic writer and the methods by which the writer has written. It is not clear whether this tension as regards power relationships can ever be resolved (Lal, 1996). Since one cannot “give up” power or bestow it (given the constantly shifting power relationships between participants and researchers), it is perhaps wiser to contextualize the ground on which these power relationships are negotiated. If the feminist project of equity is to be realized, then we must begin by illustrating the effects of these power relationships on the results of our research. Fortunately, there are some tools that we can use to minimize the effects of these power relationships.

FEMINIST TOOLS OF THE TRADE One of the prominent ways in which feminists have sought to change academic discourse is to closely examine language (McLeer, 1998). This is particularly true in a research setting. Power relationships are often reinforced in the field by the form of language that is used in the field. This can be very difficult when the researcher and the participant are separated by language barriers. Although it is tiresome, it is important to ensure that the translator does not contribute to any forms of inequalities that might already exist between the participant and the researcher. This requires some effort on the part of the researcher to ensure that there is an exchange of ideas among the translator, the researcher, and the participant. Even in these exchanges, we are likely to encounter some problems in the field that are uniquely related to the identities of the participants and the researcher. In India, especially in studying domestic violence, data are usually collected from lower-class, lower-caste women who are invariably studied by highly educated (sometimes Western-educated) upper-caste women (like me). To do justice to these projects, we must be careful to view these studies not as “authentically grass-roots, but with the belief that complex subjectivities, positions, and power relations are endemic to all groups, whether in the north or south, First World or Third”

(Grewal, 1998, p. 523). The complicity of women’s groups in creating a unified version of “woman,” and the impossibility of putting a unified agenda for women into practice (which addresses power differentials between women in terms of race, class, sexuality, nationality, and ethnicity), becomes more salient when the discourses of “global feminism” are used, especially by Western feminists whose power in shaping these discourses are largely ignored (Grewal). Given that these identities, whether of the participant, the researcher, or the audience, are important for understanding any feminist project, some feminists such as Uma Narayan and Mrinalini Sinha have suggested restoring history and politics into any feminist methodology as a way of examining social phenomena, instead of letting them languish in the background (Narayan, 1997a; Sinha, 2000). Additionally, bringing in history and politics can prevent us from essentializing our subjects. This enterprise does not mean that the position of the participant needs to be represented in the text unfiltered. The concepts and explanations of the participants must be used as a basis for social analysis. While this base is essential, it is also important for the social analyst to retain her or his voice. A complete capitulation to documenting the multiplicity of identities can also prove to be immobilizing. If we dwell too much on the multiplicity of identities of the participant or the researcher, we may neglect the lived realities of the participants and not fulfill the academic enterprise (Ortner, 1995). While the academic enterprise incorporates some of the checks on written material so that misrepresentation or omission rarely goes unnoticed, these representations are almost always made by persons in power. Participants rarely have the privilege of scrutinizing their representations, or objecting to them, given that papers produced in the academy fall under the purview of academic freedom. The onus of ensuring that the complexity of identities and the perils of representation in the field are reflected in the academic papers produced lies with the feminist researchers themselves, not only in the capacity of authors but as the audience as well (Narayan, 1997a). When examining these representations or identities, it is not enough to merely identify

19. Feminist Methodology in Practice

the subordinate and the dominant power relationships. As argued before, my status as an outsider was often translated into that of a subordinate especially for women who were older and/or were married with children. Because my primary identity as well as those of my participant was not always stable in terms of power and authority, the terms domination or resistance cannot be taken out of their particular context. Moreover, the same rules of fixed, organized, or linear modes of narration or representation do not always exist in the field site. While my position as the researcher was much more prominent, the resistance to my authority was more likely to be insidious and cannot necessarily be discerned in the transcripts of my interviews. One of the strategies recommended to ensure that the complexity of the field is reflected in writing is to ensure that the qualitative and quantitative data are grounded in an experience of lived realities, even if that experience is emotional and intuitive in nature. For example, domestic violence advocates in the field often emphasize that women must listen to their own needs when responding to a violent situation. Yet in the academic arena, this reliance on emotion and intuition is rarely represented as one of the ways in which women cope with the vagaries of violence. Thus, one of the ways to change academic writing is to legitimize and give credence to other ways of knowing such as emotion and intuition. The question of agency, in this context, must also be carefully examined. As mentioned before, participants often retain a lot of power when framing their narratives. However, in my case, I was concerned with not only the agency that the women exhibited in creating a definite narrative but also the ways in which they were “present” in the interview. Here, a number of questions arise: Must the participants want to participate in the research for at least some of its value? What does a researcher do when the participant is not interested in the research or in giving a story but wants to participate in the research? On what grounds can the researcher reject the participation of a particular informant? In answer, I argue that similar to the silences in the narratives, the lack of interest that women showed in my study gave me a lot of information about the participants themselves. Although I

261

was unable to discern the exact nature of the participants’ absence in the research, I had a clearer understanding of the socioeconomic stress that all the participants experienced. For example, through the enthusiasm with which participants from Pimpri participated in my research, I discerned not only the socioeconomic position of the women but also the limited ways in which they were able to procure money. In my study, some of the women who had experienced violence were interested in talking about the poverty of their lives, instead of the violence that they were experiencing. They were more likely to talk extensively about the lack of control they had over the finances of their household and their inability or unwillingness to earn money, compared with the lack of control they had in terms of their marital relationship. I was also able to document their husbands’ high unemployment rate in these conversations. In analyzing who was “present” and who was “absent,” I was able to formulate a conversation about the relative importance of violence in their lives vis-à-vis the level of poverty that they experienced. For instance, when women had no independent access to money, the violence that they experienced at the hands of their husbands was of little importance. Hence, even the problems and/or quandaries that I faced in the field helped me document that the experience of violence was not always considered to be the tool through which women measured their marriages. Additionally, it helped me question the fundamental assumptions about Indian women’s expectations regarding the institution of marriage, assumptions that may not be shared by their White, Western, middle-class counterparts. These considerations are instrumental in directing our attention to the sociocultural and structural factors that affect women’s experience of violence. By paying attention to the silences between the narration, and even the disinterest of the women, we can start thinking about “providing support services to differently constituted women for whom domestic violence is manifested and acknowledged only within particular subject positions” (Grewal, 1998, p. 520). Conflict and/or the problems of representing the Other need not be a frightening prospect. The data are likely to be richer when the internal politics of collecting data and of questioning the

262

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

complex processes that finally give rise to the final product are made clear. This not only contextualizes the data but also makes clear the scientific process. In addition, it gives a chance for the other to be portrayed in a complex contextualized manner, and for the voices of the subaltern to be included (Ortner, 1995). A feminist methodology that advocates for a joint production of knowledge thus would require not only studying and representing our participants without romanticizing the process but also clearly acknowledging in the text the difficulty of presenting multiple, contradictory realities, even while admitting our tendency to homogenize and categorize human behavior (Enslin, 1994). Given our history in making conscious efforts to disrupt and engage existing knowledge, we must duplicate this process not only in the ways in which we frame our academic research but also as we conduct and write about our research. This process can be enhanced when researchers become cognizant of being situated in, accountable for, and knowledgeable about the unequal power relationships that mark any research project. By doing so, we can begin to treat our participants as collaborators and situate them in the text as people with views and ideas about their own lives. In these ways, we can reestablish our commitment to listen to women’s voices and to represent them accurately in the hope of effecting social change.

REFERENCES Abraham, T. (2002). Women and the politics of violence: Articulations and re-articulations. In T. Abraham (Ed.), Women and the politics of violence (pp. 1–11). New Delhi, India: Shakti Books. Abu-Lughod, L. (1990). The romance of resistance: Tracing transformations of power through Bedouin women. American Ethnologist, 17, 41–55. Alcoff, L. (1991). The problem of speaking for others. Cultural Critique, 4, 5–29. Anzaldúa, G. (1987). La frontera/borderlands. San Francisco: Aunt Lute Books. Dasgupta, S. D., & Warrier, S. (1996). In the footstops of “Arundhati”: Asian Indian women’s experiences of domestic violence in the United States. Violence Against Women, 2, 238–259. Deshpande, A. (2001). Casting off servitude: Assessing caste and gender inequality in India. In F. W. Twine & K. M. Bline (Ed.), Feminism and antiracism: International struggles for justice (pp. 328–348). New York: New York University Press. Dobash, R. E., & Dobash, R. (1979). Violence against wives: A case against the patriarchy. New York: Free Press. Enslin, E. (1994). Beyond writing: Feminist practice and the limitations of ethnography. Cultural Anthropology, 9, 537–568.

Few, A. L., Stephens, D. P., & Rouse-Annett, M. (2003). Sister-tosister talk: Transcending boundaries and challenges in qualitative research with Black women. Family Relations, 52, 205–215. Gordon, D., & Behar, R. (1995). Women writing culture. Berkeley: University of California Press. Grewal, I. (1998). On the new global feminism and the family of nations: Dilemmas of transnational feminist practice. In E. Shohat (Ed.), Talking visions (pp. 501–530). Cambridge: MIT Press. Haraway, D. (1998). Situated knowledges. Feminist Studies, 14, 575–597. Harrison, M., & Montoya, M. E. (1996). Voices in the borderlands: A colloquy on Re/constructing identities in re/constructed legal spaces. Journal of Gender and Law, 6, 387. Jackman, M. (1994). The velvet glove: Paternalism and conflict in gender, class, and race relations. Los Angeles: University of California Press. Johnson, M. P. (2008). A typology of domestic violence: Intimate terrorism, violent resistance, and situational couple violence. Boston: Northeastern University Press. Lal, J. (1996). Situating locations: The politics of self, identity, and “other” in living and writing the text. In D. Wold (Ed.), Feminist dilemmas in field work (pp. 185–214). Boulder, CO: Westview Press. Mahajan, A. (1990). Sources of family tensions in ancient India. In S. Sood (Ed.), Violence against women (pp. 119–128). Jaipur, India: Arihant. Mahoney, M. A. (1996). The problem of silence in feminist psychology. Feminist Studies, 22, 603–625. Mani, L. (1998). Contentious traditions. Berkeley: University of California Press. Marchand, M., & Runyan, A. S. (2000). Introduction. In M. Marchand & A. S. Runyan (Eds.), Gender and global restructuring: Sightings, sites, and resistance. London: Routledge. McLeer, A. (1998). Saving the victim: Recuperating the language of the victim and reassessing global feminism. Hypatia, 12, 41. Menon, N. (2008). Domestic violence in India: Identifying types of control and coping mechanisms in violent relationships. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, Pennsylvania State University, State College. Mies, M. (1980). Indian women and patriarchy. New Delhi, India: Concept. Milosz, C. (Ed.). (1996). A book of luminous things: An international anthology of poetry. Orlando, FL: First Harvest. Narayan, U. (1997a). Contesting cultures: Westernization, respect for culture and Third World feminists. In L. J. Nicholson (Ed.), The second wave: A reader in feminist theory (pp. 396–414). New York: Routledge. Narayan, U. (1997b). Dislocating cultures: Identities, traditions and third world feminism. London: Routledge. Narayan, U., & Harding, S. (2000). Decentering the center: Philosophy for a multicultural, postcolonial, and feminist world. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Ortner, S. B. (1995). Resistance and the problem of ethnographic refusal. Comparative Studies in Society and History, 37, 173–193. Oyewumi, O. (1997). The invention of woman. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Risman, B. (1990). Methodological implications of feminist scholarship for family studies. Paper presented at the National Council on Family Relations Annual Meeting, Seattle, Washington. Sangari, K. (2002). Consent and agency. In T. Abraham (Ed.), Women and the politics of violence (pp. 126–160). New Delhi, India: Shakti Books. Sharma, A. (2001). Healing the wounds of domestic violence: Improving the effectiveness of feminist therapeutic interventions with immigrant and racially visible women who have been abused. Violence Against Women, 7, 1405–1428.

19. Feminist Methodology in Practice Sinha, M. (2000). How history matters: Questioning the categories of “Western” and non-Western feminisms. In The Social Justice Group at the Center for Advanced Feminist Studies, University of Minnesota (Ed.), Is academic feminism dead? Theory in practice (pp. 168–186). New York: New York University Press. Spivak, G. C. (1988). Can the subaltern speak? In C. Nelson & L. Grossberg (Eds.), Marxism and the interpretation of culture (pp. 271–313). Urbana: University of Illinois Press. Sprague, J., & Zimmerman, M. (1993). Overcoming dualisms: A feminist agenda. In P. England (Ed.), Theory on gender; Feminism on theory (pp. 255–280). New York: Aldine de Gruyter. Srivastava, S. (2004). Sexual sites, seminal attitudes: Sexualities, masculinities and culture in South Asia. New Delhi, India: Sage.

263

Tambiah, S. J. (1989). Bridewealth and dowry revisited: The position of women in Sub-Sahara Africa and North India. Current Anthropology, 30, 413–435. Visweswaran, K. (1994). Fictions of feminist ethnography. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Visweswaran, K. (1997). Histories of feminist ethnography. Annual Review of Anthropology, 26, 597–621. Wayne, L. D. (1996). Silence and violence: The woman behind the wall. Women and Language, 19(2), 1–5. Wolf, D. (1996). Feminist dilemmas in fieldwork. Boulder, CO: Westview Press. Yick, A. G., & Agbayani-Siewert, P. (1997). Perceptions of domestic violence in a Chinese American community. Journal of Interpersonal Violence, 12, 832–846.

20 DISCOVERING WOMEN’S AGENCY IN RESPONSE TO INTIMATE PARTNER VIOLENCE S ALLY A. L LOYD B ETH C. E MERY S UZANNE K LATT

T

his project was born with a series of pivotal events. I (Sally) had been reading a wonderful chapter Beth sent me by Martha Mahoney (1994) on violence and agency. Mahoney compellingly makes the case for the importance of recognizing women’s agency in their everyday actions, preparation to leave, and protection of their children (as opposed to reserving “agency” for the singular act of leaving). Simultaneous with my reading of this chapter, several young women on our campus bravely came forward to speak of their experiences of acquaintance rape. The subsequent editorials in the student newspaper and conversations in the hallway took on new meaning as I listened carefully to the ways that the agency of these women was constructed either as entirely missing (“the helpless victim”) or entirely in their own hands (“she could have prevented it if she hadn’t gone to that party”). I excitedly called my stalwart research collaborator Beth, and we talked about Mahoney, campus events, and 264

taking a fresh look at our work on women’s experiences of intimate partner violence. Beth and I embarked on a new journey, delving into theory and research on agency, and then using this theory to guide a reanalysis of our narrative interviews with young women who had experienced physical violence. Along the way, we were joined in our endeavor by Suzanne, who brought new ideas and a fresh perspective to the project (she was in the midst of writing her comprehensive exam on resistance, agency, and feminist methodologies). The purpose of this chapter is to share our journey through feminist theory into feminist methodology as we (re)visioned and (re)analyzed our own work. We begin the paper by identifying the dominant discourses of women’s agency that are found in popular media and professional literature. Next, we highlight the counternarratives about agency found in feminist theory and research on woman battering and use these literatures to develop a conceptual framework

20. Discovering Women’s Agency in Response to Intimate Partner Violence

for analyzing and understanding women’s agency. We then present how we used this framework to reanalyze our qualitative interviews, looking for new ways of naming women’s agency as they responded to and resisted violence.

DOMINANT NARRATIVES ABOUT INTIMATE VIOLENCE AND AGENCY For some time, we have been interested in uncovering the discourses of violence and intimacy that contribute to particular worldviews and constructions of how women should act when violence is perpetrated against them (see Lloyd & Emery, 2000). Through analyses of the media (Berns, 2004), legal and criminal justice systems (Mahoney, 1994; Stanko, 1996), and service providers (Dunn & Powell-Williams, 2007), and through conversations with friends and our observations of popular culture, we have identified three discourses about the agency of women who have been battered that we believe are fairly prevalent: agency-as-missing, agency-as-exit, and agency-as-prevention (a longer discussion of these discourses appears in Lloyd & Emery, 2005). The agency-as-missing narrative is actually one of invisibility: the victim who lacks agency. Even though women who are battered firmly reject their construction as “total victims,” all too often they are defined as victims without agency, as unable to help themselves (Lamb, 1999). This is in large part because agency and victimhood have been constructed as a binary, for “agency and victimization are each known by the absence of the other: You are an agent if you are not a victim, and you are a victim if you are in no way an agent” (Mahoney, 1994, p. 64). The invisibility of agency is revealed in discourse on women’s constant vulnerability to men’s violence and their ironic subsequent need for protection by men (Hollander, 2001) and in theories of learned helplessness and psychological entrapment (Choice & Lamke, 1997). Constructions of victims of violence as worthy only when their suffering is long-standing and severe further places them in the role of reactors rather than actors (Lamb, 1999). The question “Why does she stay?” embodies a second dominant narrative, agency-as-exit. The woman who has experienced violence at the

265

hands of her intimate partner is expected to leave; indeed, leaving has been constructed as her only viable option (Mahoney, 1994). Baker (1997) notes that the dominant cultural script for battered women commands them to leave their abusive partners. Ironically, “edicts like leave your partner, call the police, go to a shelter, and seek counseling . . . create ways in which battered women lose control and choices” (p. 71). Even those who work on a daily basis with women who are battered tend to overemphasize a woman’s choice to leave while underplaying the constraints inherent in doing so; this leads to a continued dichotomization of victimization and agency (Dunn & Powell-Williams, 2007). A third dominant narrative of agency and violence is one of prevention. Here, the woman who is battered or assaulted is accorded such unconstrained control over her abuser and the situation that she is responsible for preventing battering or sexual assault from happening in the first place (Berns, 2004; Lamb, 1999). Assigning superagent status to the woman who has been battered or assaulted supports dominant narratives that degender the problem and gender the blame (Berns, 2001), belittle the harm suffered by the victim (Henley, Miller, & Beazley, 1995), and create unrealistic expectations that women can stop an abuser (Lamb, 1999).

THE COUNTERNARRATIVE OF WOMEN’S AGENCY IN FEMINIST THEORY AND SCHOLARSHIP We have turned to feminist theory as a critical source for counternarratives of women’s agency. Our first step in articulating our framework for understanding a multidimensional conceptualization of agency is a review of the concepts of essentialism, constructivism, performativity, resistance, and materiality. Since agency is complex and varied in its feminist conceptualizations, our review of these struggles is a beginning in a dialogue that is always unfinished. Defining and Understanding Agency Essentialism/Constructivist Dualisms The essentialism/constructivist debate is fundamental to defining agency, for it raises

266

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

important questions about gender as a fixed characteristic versus gender as a social construction and about whether/how women resist/ subvert/act. Essentialism refers to the “attribution of a fixed essence to women” which may include elements of biologism, naturalism, and/or universalism (Grosz, 1995, p. 47). Often, the essentially feminine subject is defined in opposition to the modernist masculine subject (Hekman, 1995). Such essentialism runs the risks of creating immutable characteristics or roles for women that echo patriarchal structures and of denying the cultural construction of “woman,” “femininity,” and “gender” (Grosz, 1995). Social constructivist views, on the other hand, emphasize that women are made and gender is created within a historical and sociopolitical context; here, discursive and social practices constitute both the feminine and masculine subject (Hekman, 1995). However, the risk inherent in this view is the possibility of so deconstructing the subject as to no longer have a “woman” capable of action (Gardiner, 1995). This tension exists also between poststructuralist and standpoint theories, for standpoint and multicultural feminisms have been accused of being overly essentialist, whereas poststructural theories are “deconstructive to a fault” (De Reus, Few, & Blume, 2005, p. 450). McNay (2000) considers that an emphasis on such dualisms halts any active agency. McNay suggests a more productive and creative consideration of agency. Although she thinks that both the social and the psychic “dimensions of subject formation” (p. 19) are important, her configuration of a generative agency includes “a capacity to institute new or unanticipated modes of behaviour . . . which are not reducible to it because of the dynamic nature of the social order” (p. 21). Ultimately, we find that it is important to avoid both essentializing women’s agency (seeing it as static and determined) and completely deconstructing it (and thus leaving new action or subversion out of the picture completely). What is needed is a dialectical argument that pays attention to the formation of the subject through discourse as well as to the ways that the object/subject meet in between and create something new (Hekman, 1995). Performativity How then can we walk that careful line wherein context is acknowledged and yet “woman” is not

so deconstructed as to lack the capacity to act? We have found Butler’s (1999) analysis of gender as performative to be particularly helpful here. Butler (1993) seeks to “formulate a project that preserves gender practices as sites of critical agency” (p. x). She argues that agency appears in the resistance, subversion, and parody of the performance of gender (Butler, 1999). However, Butler (1993) cautions that we must “locate agency as a reiterative or rearticulatory practice, immanent to power, and not a relation of external opposition to power” (p. 15). In other words, the woman who resists does not exist outside the constructions of gender; instead “she” is produced by those norms, and “her agency” is enabled by and embedded in a historical context of regulatory practices and discourses. Ultimately, such performative agency is “a process of materialization in which the constraints of social structures are reproduced and partially transcended in the practices of agents” (McNay, 1999, p. 177). Butler’s (1993) work is not without critique. Magnus (2006) notes that Butler’s focus is on acting alone; this does not allow for empowerment via interpersonal relationships and, instead, detaches the one who acts from others, for it interferes with “conceiving of subjects who are empowered through intersubjective connections” (p. 86). Magnus (2006) also highlights how Butler moves from “performative subjectivity” to “linguistic performativity” (pp. 81–82) as she moves from the subject’s creation related to the body to creation through naming and language. This overemphasis on linguistic performativity runs the risk of failing to acknowledge nonlinguistic acts; Magnus reminds us that one type of performative act should not be privileged over others. Resistance Resistance is another key concept that is linked to theorizing on agency and that is particularly relevant given our interest in interpersonal violence, for here we are reminded of Foucault’s (1978) profound statement, “Where there is power, there is resistance” (pp. 95–96). Foucault’s work has contributed to feminist theorizing on the diverse sources of women’s oppression and everyday resistance; furthermore, “viewing power as constitutive has helped many of us to grasp the interweaving nature of

20. Discovering Women’s Agency in Response to Intimate Partner Violence

our social, political, and personal relationships” (Deveaux, 1999, p. 243). Power in Foucault’s (1978) writing is more than the simple repression of the powerless, for he brings to the forefront the hidden aspects of power, overt and covert resistance, and the complex contingencies that are inherent in power relations. Collins (2000) emphasizes the complexity of resistance, noting, “If power as domination is organized and operates via intersecting oppressions, then resistance must show comparable complexity” (p. 203). Rather than theorizing the authentic or essential agency of Black women, Collins conceptualizes their activism as complexly embedded in both everyday acts and political activities. Abu-Lughod (1990) cautions feminist scholars about romanticizing resistance and failing to examine power; she emphasizes unconventional resistances instead of grand systemic overthrows. She considers women in Bedouin society who are playful in their resistance; it is quiet and behind closed doors as well as expressed openly. Abu-Lughod is careful to avoid attributing the women’s actions as part of some feminist movement (a false consciousness) that is not part of their lived experiences, nor does she use previously accepted analytical tools that would limit the story. For example, in looking at how the women both resist and accept the existing system of power, she does not want to place the women in a box as either cynical manipulators or having a feminist consciousness (p. 47). Materiality Our discussion of agency would not be complete without a brief discussion of the larger contexts within which agency, performativity, and resistance are embedded. Liddle and Wright (2001) note that “materiality refers to social relations and practices, social structure, and institutions, and is used particularly to analyze structural inequality and hierarchical power relations and their relationship to gendered identities and subjectivities” (p. 277). The material bases of patriarchy go beyond ideology to include economic control over women’s wage production, social and political practices, and the control over women inherent in the heterosexual marriage contract (Jackson, 2001; Liddle & Wright, 2001). Race, class, sexuality, nation, and gender still play a major role in how the social is organized and constructed (Maynard,

267

1995), and institutionalized racism, colonialism, homophobia, and imperialism contribute to very real material inequalities and oppressions (Jackson, 2001). Notions of materiality seek to add back into the analysis an emphasis on the social as embodied both in systems of hierarchy and in everyday practices, as well as the physical as embodied in the appropriation as male of muscles, tools, machines, and technology (Cockburn, 1990). Liddle and Wright (2001) discuss materiality (formulated in embodiment, political organization, economic structures, and technology) in contrast with the cultural (formulated in language, meaning, discourse, and representation); they also emphasize the importance of “bringing together the cultural and the material, the self and the context” (p. 277). Ultimately, Jackson (2001) argues that materialism does not ignore subjectivity but rather seeks to locate it within its social and historical context. It is precisely these aspects of materiality, and the emphasis on “subjectivity within context,” that we find most intriguing for contextualizing our work, since violence itself is a material social relation (Liddle & Wright, 2001) and agency is a materially, socially, and physically mediated act. Theorizing Agency Within a Dialectical Framework Inherent within our discussion of agency are both theoretical debates and seeming binaries. How do feminist theorists resolve these theoretical conundrums? Many seek resolution through dialectical theorizing that acknowledges both creative agent and performative subject, and the subject as both constituted and constituting (Hekman, 1995; McNay, 2000). They emphasize that essentialism and constructivism are not two opposite poles on either side of an equation but rather are inextricably bound together (Gardiner, 1995). The subject with agency is seen as embedded within structures and discourses of domination and as capable of both accommodation and protest (MacLeod, 1992). Ultimately, as De Welde (2003) writes, agency cannot be conceived as “simply existing, waiting to be awoken. Rather, it is created in and through situations and discourses where the subject confronts external constraints” (p. 249). A dialectical, both/and perspective on agency has been articulated particularly well in the

268

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

work of multicultural and critical race feminists. Sandoval’s (1995) notion of differential oppositional consciousness captures the movement between and among ideological positions that is practiced by women of color and U.S. Third World feminists. She recognizes the importance of modern “citizen-subjects” stepping outside their own social space and position to ethically resist. This differential positioning is “performative: it is the form of agency self-consciously constructed to mobilize and enact power” (p. 218). Sandoval emphasizes a subjectivity that denies that any one ideology or approach is paramount in confronting oppression; instead, oppositional consciousness forms a complex set of actions that are the tactical weaponry for confronting power. MacLeod (1992) develops the concept of accommodating protest, conceptualizing women as both “active subjects” and “subjects of domination.” MacLeod pushes aside the dichotomy of passive victim/active acceptance, stating eloquently that it “flattens out a complex and ambiguous agency in which women accept, accommodate, ignore, resist, or protest— sometimes all at the same time” (p. 534). This work complicates and transforms our notions of agency. Our definition of agency can no longer be as simple as “the capacity to act,” or, in the case of the woman who is battered or assaulted, as the “act of exit.” Rather, we have arrived at a conceptualization of agency that is fraught with fluidities: It is simultaneously the socioculturally mediated capacity to act (Ahearn, 2001), the resistance and subversion of the performance of gender (Butler, 1999), inextricably linked to survival (Collins, 2000), and the creation of a new and unfamiliar path (McNay, 1999). In the next section, we turn our attention to the ways in which such notions of agency have been captured in feminist scholarship on battering. Feminist Scholarship on Battering The agency of women who are battered and assaulted has been a critical thread in the work of feminist scholars. Indeed, the very construction of battered women has undergone a significant shift, from emotional victims to survivors who possess agency (Dunn, 2005). As we examined both seminal work and recent scholarship, we identified several common threads: survival, self-defense, and processes of disentanglement.

Feminist scholars frame their analyses of women’s agency in dialectical ways, emphasizing back-and-forth processes, periods of acquiescence followed by periods of taking action, and the ongoing negotiation of choices within a context of constraint. In many ways, survival embodies a complex form of agency, for any discussion of survival must necessarily attend to the ways in which contexts of fear, oppression, and a lack of resources constrain women who have been battered to stay in the relationship. Survival has many forms and nuances. During a battering episode, women may hide or use passive selfdefense in an attempt to minimize injury, try to placate the abuser, or use aggressive self-defense (Goodkind, Sullivan, & Bybee, 2004). While initial problem solving may entail minimizing and self-blame, passive resistance may allow women who are battered to hide their acts of selfpreservation in seeming acquiescence. Women may keep private their alternative interpretations, including fantasies of murder or suicide, new strategies for coping with the abuse, and plans for the future (Lempert, 1996). Mahoney (1994) highlights the many actions taken by women who have been abused to restore a sense of control and predictability in their lives, by threatening divorce, protecting their children, demanding that the batterer seek counseling, and making safety plans. They may work to keep daily routines predictable and continue to care for children despite experiencing severe violence (Mahoney, 1994). Other survival strategies include building an internal psychic shield against a hostile environment, drawing on spirituality for strength, and claiming internal anger (West, 1999). Certainly, self-defensive violence is a key survival strategy that has long been noted by feminist scholars (Bograd, 1990). Emery and Lloyd (1994) argue for an expanded notion of self-defense, one that goes beyond use of defensive violence and captures other forms of resistance and defense of the self. Campbell, Rose, Kub, and Nedd (1998) provide a particularly nuanced account of women’s processes of resistance, emphasizing the back-and-forth nature of living with violence. The women studied by Campbell et al. tried a wide variety of strategies to improve the relationship and decrease the violence, not because they were taking the blame for the abuse but because they were trying to

20. Discovering Women’s Agency in Response to Intimate Partner Violence

negotiate the paradox of love and violence. They proactively subordinated the self in some situations and simultaneously stood their ground on key issues such as employment or child rearing. Similarly, West (1999) describes strategies of resistance: engaging in subtle and silent strategies, standing up to the partner’s attempts at control, fighting back vigorously, holding one’s ground, and refusing to be dominated. Feminist scholars of domestic violence emphasize leaving the abusive situation as a process of disentangling rather than as a singular act of “walking away.” Rosen and Stith (1997) describe this process as beginning when the seeds of doubt that a woman has been harboring are brought to the forefront. Key turning points (both internal ones such as emotional shifts and external ones such as a job change) catalyzed, for the women they studied, a changing readiness to leave; similarly, a process of reflection and reappraisal resulted in recognition of danger, options, and blamelessness. The women eventually experienced a paradigmatic shift, wherein they moved from trying to maintain the relationship to actively creating an agenda for leaving. Kirkwood (1993) describes how the women used a surge of emotion as a resource that they drew on to spiral themselves outward and break free from abuse. Intense feelings of anger and rage provided energy for self-preservation; when resources were not an issue, these feelings propelled women to leave quickly. When resources were constraining, women still worked internally on the self and externally with friends, family, and agencies to create the conditions that made leaving possible (Kirkwood). Indeed, many authors have documented the pivotal role played by a supportive network as women journey through the process of leaving (Goodkind et al., 2004; Lloyd & Emery, 2000).

TRANSLATING THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY How then, does this review of feminist theorizing on agency and scholarship on intimate violence assist us in taking a new look at our work? Thus far, we have wrestled with the complexities of even trying to define “agency.” We’ve shared our ideas on the importance of describing women’s responses to violence as a fluid process

269

that captures the ways in which they resist the power and control of batterers as well as the material and social constraints that serve to keep them in their relationships. The key question we subsequently faced was how to translate this theory into a researchable project. Several years ago, Sally and Beth conducted narrative interviews with young women who had experienced physical abuse by a dating partner. When we started that project, we asked our participants to tell us about their experiences of violence: what happened, how they responded, whether they used self-defensive violence and why or why not, and how their relationships ended (see Emery & Lloyd, 1994; Lloyd & Emery, 2000, for our earlier analyses of these interviews). As we noted at the beginning of this chapter, when we recently began to explore conceptualizations of women’s agency (this is when Suzanne joined our efforts), we had an “ah ha” moment. What would happen if we took a new look at our old data? What might we find now, given that our conceptual “eyes” had been opened by our careful reading and consideration of feminist theorizing on agency? While we had not designed our narrative interview study specifically for an analysis of agency, we did feel that the interviews had been open-ended enough for the women to share with us how they responded to and survived a violent partner. We were intrigued by the idea of going back and taking a hard look at these narratives with an eye toward expanding our understanding of agency through the praxis of putting theory into action through data analysis. So we embarked on the data analysis that forms the rest of this chapter. We began our revisualized project by creating a conceptual framework to guide a reanalysis of our data. This conceptual framework is dialectic, emphasizing the both/and: • While acknowledging the fact that our participants are situated within a series of discourses on agency and violence, we also took care to avoid essentializing or constructing our participants as passive recipients of those discourses. • We looked for both dominant and counternarratives of agency. Although we were guided by feminist theory and scholarship, we worked hard to not let our analysis be limited by what we already

270

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY understood about women’s agency in response to battering; instead, we tried to let the narratives “speak for themselves” to reveal nuanced interpretations.

• We looked at resistance as multifaceted and ambiguous, taking care like Abu-Lughod (1990) not to read into the actions of the participants a feminist consciousness that was not there. We looked also for the resistance of the performance of gender as well as resistance of violence itself. • We examined how material realities (the historical/economic/social context and the intersecting matrix of oppressions) were reflected in the stories shared by our participants. • We emphasized the fluid and processual nature of agency, emphasizing how women act within and against systems of constraint to create new and unfamiliar paths. We looked for dialectical processes (such as protest and accommodation, strength and vulnerability) in our data.

Ultimately, we tried to keep Campbell et al.’s (1998) words at the forefront of our coding: “Dealing with abuse is a complex process, and achieving nonviolence is neither strictly linear nor necessarily progressive in all instances” (p. 756). Feminist Methodologies Our project was driven from the beginning by our desire to enact feminist methodologies. As feminists, we have multiple interests and perspectives (Brooks & Hesse-Biber, 2007) and our methodologies shift based on complex combinations of epistemologies, ontologies, and contexts. Our approach to feminist methodology begins with contextualizing feminist knowledge production within the academy. Many feminist researchers have been negatively affected by the historical privileging of masculinist philosophies and modernist projects (Bordo, 1999). Although many women have not been advantaged in the research and knowledge production process, certain women (particularly White academics) have had opportunities that others have not had (Mohanty, 2003). A second component of our feminist methodology is the recognition that inquiry reflects researcher values (Brooks & HesseBiber, 2007; Thompson, 1992). We critically

reflect on how our positions, values, identities, and education affect the research process. We acknowledge our positions as they related to developing this project; as White, middle-class, heterosexual academic women, we must keep our histories, politics, privileging, and values at the forefront so that we might understand the ways in which our identities and social locations influence the questions we ask and the answers we find. While we attempt to create a new vision (Thompson) that will bring a more nuanced view of women’s agency in the context of violence, we understand that our vision is situated within and constrained by the limits of our own understandings. Reanalyzing our data aligns with a third component, that of challenging previous assumptions in the field (Thompson, 1992) and ideologies that are oppressive toward women (Brooks & Hesse-Biber, 2007). One of the questions we asked in this study was how to conduct research and scholarship for women that does not reproduce the limited narrative of agencyas-exit. Rereading our original analysis has allowed us to be self-reflexive about our previous work; while we did not frame our original analyses in narratives of “exit” or “prevention,” we must admit that we did render agency somewhat invisible by alluding to agency without actually naming it as such. We also considered Sandoval’s (2000) differential consciousness and its extension beyond dialectics. In Methodology of the Oppressed, she recognizes a “shared democratization of oppression” (Sandoval, 2000, p. 33) emerging through globalization, ultimately turning to Third World feminists and women of color as guides for practicing a differential consciousness. This involves deconstructing power, responding, and navigating through oppressive environments and situations. As we engaged our reanalysis, we worked to remain open to the complexity and mobility women use to respond to the nuances and challenges of their violent partners and relationships. We also tried to critically examine dualistic arguments and visualize a less bounded and more topographic (Sandoval, 2000) picture of the data and participant experiences. As with many feminist projects, our project derived from the real experiences and lives of women (Brooks & Hesse-Biber, 2007). In reanalyzing the texts provided by the women, we were committed to being open to contradictions

20. Discovering Women’s Agency in Response to Intimate Partner Violence

related to current knowledge about families (Thompson, 1992) and discourses about women and domestic violence. We worked to remain receptive to “what is missing, silenced, or absent” (Leavy, 2007, p. 228) and to attend to broader themes, societal structures, and materialities (Thompson). Methods and Analysis Strategies We used our conceptual framework and grounded theory methods to reanalyze our interviews with 15 women who had experienced physical violence in a dating relationship. These women were White, middle-class, heterosexual, and predominantly single and ranged in age from 19 to 28 years. Fourteen of the 15 women described a relationship that they had left. In many cases, the violence was frequent and severe, and the relationship was characterized by high levels of control and dominance from the partner (see Lloyd & Emery, 2000, for a full description of the sampling process and subject demographics). Our analysis strategy was twofold. First, the coding process began with a deliberate attempt to impose the dominant discourses onto the narratives. Since this project began with questioning the dominant narratives of agency as exit, prevention, and missing, we believed that this is where the data analysis had to start. In this phase, Beth Emery and a second coder identified 91 acts of agency (median of 5 per participant) wherein the participant described her thoughts and/or actions as she dealt with the physical violence perpetrated by her partner. The two coders then worked to “read” the dominant discourses onto these passages; the central question here was whether these dominant narratives provided a useful framework for understanding women’s agency. Second, this initial “imposed phase” was followed by the implementation of grounded theory methods (Strauss & Corbin, 1990). Like LaRossa (2005), we viewed our grounded theory analysis as simultaneously inductive and deductive. We acknowledged up front that what we brought to the project was our understandings of feminist theory and scholarship on agency and battering. At the same time, we tried to remain open to what the narratives were “telling us”—that is, open to new interpretations and stories, open in a manner that

271

meant that we used the theory to guide rather than dictate the analysis (LaRossa). During the initial, open coding phase, the two coders analyzed the transcripts independently, identifying concepts and using Microsoft Access as a way to organize their coding notes on each act. In an iterative process, the coders’ notes on concepts were compared and contrasted and differences resolved through extensive discussion and interpretation. A series of categories was built by aligning similar concepts. The open coding process flowed into axial coding, where categories were linked, interpretations refined, and power, contexts, and contingencies examined (Strauss & Corbin, 1990). It was important during this process to remember to “step back” and look at the overall story of each participant’s narrative, working to resist the tendency to focus solely on the series of actions these women had described. To do so would have rendered these women invisible. Here, our analysis was very much grounded in the questions raised in our conceptual framework (LaRossa, 2005). The final phase of analysis involved selective coding. As LaRossa (2005) so eloquently describes it, selective coding entailed a process of identifying the “main story” of our coding and analysis. We worked to identify a “core variable,” that one variable that was “theoretically saturated and centrally relevant” (p. 851) to the collective stories told by our participants.

RESULTS AND DISCUSSION: A “NEW LOOK AT OLD DATA” “Imposing” Dominant Narratives Onto the Transcripts Our first task was to ask the question, “Can the dominant narratives of agency as missing, prevention, or exit be found in these women’s descriptions?” What we did for this portion of the analysis was to try to fit all 91 of the passages describing our participants’ responses to violence into one of these three categories, for we believed that in order to fully deconstruct these dominant narratives, we had to begin by first looking for them in our data (even though we believed that such a coding scheme would not work very well). As a second step, we asked the question, were alternative or counternarratives

272

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

This narrative was the most straightforward of the three to impose on the data. Technically, 14 of the 15 participants displayed exit, as they had ended the relationship with their abusive boyfriends. The question then became, “To what extent was this exit the sort of ‘singular’ event that is so typically constructed as a woman’s most appropriate response to battering?” The answer to this question was “Not at all,” for in no case did the participants describe leaving after the first time abuse happened, nor did they describe leaving eventually as anything other than a process that occurred over time. As might be expected, 13 of the women described 28 exit strategies. Some described exiting as a difficult and gradual process, while others described a final exit that was precipitated by a particularly violent event. Some were sensitized to the potential for violence based on their previous experiences, and some women finally realized that they had alternatives to the abusive behavior. Thus, the very idea of “exit” could be deconstructed, for in all cases, exit was not a singular action but, instead, was a process of disentangling and leaving (themes that we explicate in detail below).

try to stop the violence from continuing or reoccurring. Using this broad scheme, 11 women described 32 actions of “prevention.” However, the coders were very uncomfortable with such a broad definition, for many of these actions could also be constructed as self-defense, resistance, or self-preservation. So they altered the coding to reflect a stricter adherence to the dominant narrative (including only acts that were premeditated attempts to stop the violence), and as a result, prevention as a narrative theme was ultimately a relatively rare occurrence (dropping to 11 actions). The examples of women’s agency that remained required forethought and planning, for example, denying the abuse to third parties to avoid further violence and trying to get their partners to go for counseling. One reason that few acts of agency were found to fit the prevention narrative is that prevention implies knowledge of an event prior to its occurrence. Indeed, our earlier analysis noted that the women were usually taken by surprise and shocked when violence occurred (Lloyd & Emery, 2000). In the reanalysis, while we read their efforts to stop or lessen the violence as acts of “prevention,” we want to note that the dominant discourse of prevention places a different emphasis on women’s responsibility: Women should plan or prepare for violence before it happens, and their behavior must be impeccable for us to construe them as sympathetic victims. A woman may take self-defense classes to protect herself, but not from her dating partner, for women fear a different sort of attack as the dominant discourse emphasizes violence perpetrated by a stranger rather than a trusted intimate partner (Lloyd & Emery). Ultimately, we found that the idea of women “preventing” the violence did not fit with their descriptions of the dynamics of violence in their relationships.

Agency-as-Prevention

Agency-as-Missing

In trying to make the data fit into this dominant narrative, the coders started with a broad definition that included any behavior or decision that would result in a cessation of the violence, either in short- or long-term contexts. Here, behaviors such as fighting back, avoiding friends, and trying to get away from the violent situation were categorized as “preventive,” given that these were actions taken to

This dominant narrative was the most difficult to force onto the data. If “agency-as-missing” means that the woman is not acting at all, then by identifying 91 acts of agency, we had already provided a deconstruction of the notion that women who experience intimate violence are helpless victims who cannot act for themselves. We did try nonetheless to code for “agency-as-missing” (remember— we were purposefully imposing these dominant

(such as resistance or self-defense) present in these acts of agency—in other words, while we initially “purposefully read” each action as exit, prevention, or missing, we subsequently looked for alternative readings of those same acts. Indeed, this second step led us to deconstruct the dominant narratives themselves. Through this forced process, it was immediately apparent that the three dominant narratives of “missing,” “exit” and “prevention” created a restrictive and inadequate framework from which to view women’s agency in violent dating relationships. Agency-as-Exit

20. Discovering Women’s Agency in Response to Intimate Partner Violence

discourses on the data). Thirteen women described 31 actions that could be read as “missing,” for what they described were actions that might not be visible to an outside observer. This grouping included decisions to act in particular ways, such as remaining silent or withdrawing when the man became angry, agreeing with whatever he said, and avoiding interacting with other men so as to not “make the partner jealous.” Since the women kept these decisions to themselves, they could erroneously be viewed as lacking agency. However, even this “reading” of agency-as-missing helps deconstruct this dominant narrative, as each of these actions was a thoughtful decision to act in particular ways that would keep the woman and her loved ones safe. Interestingly, as we conducted the grounded theory analysis, all the actions that we forced into the “missing” category were reconstructed as “surviving.” We conclude that using the three dominant narratives of agency-as-missing, prevention, and exit as an analysis scheme was woefully inadequate. These narratives were either too narrow to sufficiently describe the numerous, complex acts of agency that these women discussed, or they were just not applicable. Certainly, this lack of fit could be due in part to the fact that the interview protocol was not originally developed with the idea of looking for these dominant narratives. Still, we are convinced that the narratives of women’s agency as exit or prevention do not recognize or validate women’s agency as much as they blame women for the violence that they experience as well as assign women the responsibility for stopping men’s violence. Looking for Counternarratives Through a Grounded Theory Analysis As noted above, we used grounded theory methods to analyze the transcripts in a more emergent way, still remaining aware of the ways in which our feminist lenses influenced our data analysis. In this phase of the analysis, we immediately felt the possibilities of more complex and nuanced understandings of agency. The processes of open and axial coding eventually led to four core categories: surviving, resisting, restoring, and leaving. In the next sections, we describe each of these core categories (using narrative quotes to ground them in the data), followed by further axial

273

coding that linked this analysis back to the conceptual framework. Surviving This core concept was described by 13 of the 15 women in 42% of the passages on agency. Surviving encompassed a wide variety of responses, some that were relatively passive, all of which embodied actions to preserve the self that were embedded in a context of the partner’s control over her person and the relationship. Surviving ranged from holding thoughts and feelings inside— Yeah, I was just surprised at myself. I didn’t do a whole lot, but I was scared of myself and the anger that I had inside me. And some of the stuff I was wanting to do to him, thinking it. I would never threaten him or anything, cause, you know, I’ve learned from watching my parents. You just keep your mouth shut.

—to accommodating: One time I decided to agree with him and every excuse he used and he still hit me! I stopped fighting back eventually. Me fighting back doesn’t change things. Me fighting back probably prolongs things and I just couldn’t do it anymore.

Other women described how they would protect themselves by asking others not to intervene: As we were leaving [the bar after he hit her in public] someone wanted to know if I was ok and I told them not to talk to me because D___ would just get more mad. The car broke down three times on the way, and he took it out on me each time. Every time the wrecker pulled up, I’d be bleeding from somewhere, and I’d always say, “I’m fine.”

Still others described surviving by rationalizing the abuse and/or taking the blame for it: He eventually apologized [for the violence]. And I just got over it. I forgot about it. I assumed it was because of the drugs. I didn’t really think that it was because of him.

274

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

He would say “you’re going to sit here and talk about it” . . . most of the time I would end up admitting I was wrong—even though I thought something else—just to get the argument over with.

Resisting This core concept was described by 10 women in 19% of the passages on agency. These acts of agency were reactive, overtly behavioral responses to violence and force and were typified by the woman fighting back with violence: That’s when he threw the [frying] pan at me. And that’s when I threw it right back at him. I was trying to get away from him. That was my, I mean, that was my defense, like that was one of the only things I could do when he was holding me down was just to hit him. I’d bite his arm and stuff.

Standing up to her partner’s attack: I was standing up against the sink and he comes charging at me with the butcher knife, holding it up in front of him like this, and I start screaming real loud so everyone can hear . . . he stopped and he ran. When he shook me I told him “Don’t push me around, I don’t like it.”

And not giving in to her partner: The more he bugged me, the more I kept quiet. And the more I just sat there—he would try to force me to talk or if I tried to leave, he would force me to stay. You know, pin me down, whatever. The less I would let him force me, the more he tried to force me. So, it just got worse. It didn‘t get better.

Restoring Control This core concept was described by 6 of the 15 women; it comprised 14% of the identified passages of agency. (Note: this theme also emerged in our previous analyses of these data; see Emery & Lloyd, 1994.) Restoring control was proactive in nature, yet it did not usually result in the termination of the relationship or the violence. Instead, restoring control was all about trying to reestablish a balance in the relationship. In some cases, restoring control meant regaining power by fighting back and standing up to his control:

[I hit back] to prove to him that he was not going to beat me up, that he was not going to hurt me, because I was going to hurt him right back. To let him know what he was doing to me. . . . It was my way too, of saying, “Hey, I’m not this little girl you think you’re going to control, because I am not going to let you.” (Emery & Lloyd, p. 254)

The women’s efforts to restore control or level the balance of power had diverse consequences. In the case of this woman, her stand triggered a violent response: I was packing up my things. I told him I was going to leave if he was going to continue to drink. I was walking by the door—he grabbed me with his arm around my neck, I fell to the floor— and he dragged me into the bedroom and started punching on my face.

This woman tried to control the violence and the situation: When he started to get violent . . . I would try and stop it . . . Most of the time, I think that I would leave, too. Just get away from him.

Leaving This core concept was described by 12 of the 15 women in 27% of the 91 passages on agency. The women described various situations and processes in which they finally came to the decision to leave. Half of the women described leaving as a difficult and gradual process, as did the two women in these examples: I tried to break up “cold turkey” but you can’t do that in an abusive relationship because that makes them madder and more violent. (Lloyd & Emery, 2000, p. 70) I would give in when he got violent. It gradually started to build up resentment and that also helped give me strength that helped me break it off.

Still others recognized that they had alternatives and deserved better: It was like a whole new world from what I was used to and it just made me start thinking about everything. It made me open my eyes. And I said, “I’m not putting up with it anymore.” And then . . . I broke up with him.

20. Discovering Women’s Agency in Response to Intimate Partner Violence

For the other half of the women, leaving was more abrupt, precipitated by particularly violent episodes: We got into it pretty heavy. . . . And he just turned around and smacked me and knocked me onto the bed and I was bleeding real bad. The next day I woke up and my nose was all puffy and I had two black eyes. But he was real sorry after that, and I told him to get the hell out, and there was no way I was going to forgive him, or put up with him anymore. So I was just—that was the last time. (Lloyd & Emery, 2000, p. 85) For one minute, I thought he was going to kill me, but then he looked very sad. Confused. And that’s when I walked out the door. I told him I couldn’t take it anymore.

For all the women, important shifts in feeling, perceptions, and behaviors facilitated breaking free of the violent relationship; some shifts were in the perception of the dangerousness of his abusive behavior, whereas other shifts were of their internal beliefs about the ability to get along without the partner, or the availability of others to help keep her safe. Axial Coding Specific to Our Conceptual Framework As a final phase of axial coding, we linked the categories of agency identified thus far to “other variables whose relevance would be suggested from . . . an established theoretical framework” (LaRossa, 2005, p. 849). Here, our conceptual framework led us to the concepts of performativity and materiality. We did not expect these theoretical concepts to come through in the open coding phase, for our research participants simply did not use such vocabularies per se. Still, we wanted to contextualize the women’s narratives by examining the ways in which the performance of gender and material conditions affected the lived experiences of these women. Our analysis here confirmed that performativity could indeed be found in the women’s descriptions of their relationships. To the extent that violence and control in relationships have been constructed as part of “the masculine,” and deference to this control and submission in the face of violence have been constructed as part of “the feminine,” these women were describing their subversion of gender performativity every time they described the ways that they resisted

275

their partners’ violence. Similarly, the actions taken to preserve the self and to regain control, and the processes of disentanglement, could also be read as resistance/subversion of the performance of gender. That they were aware of the role of stereotypic gender performances was made clear in statements such as the following: He talked down to me a lot. It was like, you know, he wanted me to be the little girl I’d been when he’d started dating me. A little girl that said, “OK, whatever,” and gave in to whatever he said without fighting about it. . . . (Lloyd & Emery, 2000, p. 69) He thought it was OK to hit a female. That he had to have the upper hand at all times. That he had to be the controlling figure in the relationship . . . the man is supposed to go out and make a living and be the one who is controlling. That’s the way he thought things were supposed to be. (Lloyd & Emery, 2000, p. 69)

In a similar vein, the realities of the social and political materiality of their lives and the intersectionality of their social locations as White, middle-class, young, heterosexual, able-bodied women affected how the women constructed their responses to violence and the constraints/possibilities they lived through during the experience of violence. As an example, we present a short synopsis of the social/economic/legal context of violence for one of our interviewees: When he asked her to marry him, “Lisa’s” boyfriend became enraged when she did not immediately acquiesce. He attacked her with a knife, and beat and raped her repeatedly. She escaped to a neighbor’s house, called the police, and later pressed charges. Since charges of attempted murder and rape were dropped, the boyfriend spent only 20 days in jail. Because the boyfriend was well known in the community and at her workplace, Lisa suffered harassment at work and eventually felt her only choice was to quit her job and move to another city.

At the same time, while each of our interviewees described her larger social context in unique terms, we believe that all the women were constrained by the material reality of the heterosexual marriage contract (a term used by Jackson, 2001). Within constructions of gender, sexuality, and family, this contract plays out in heteronormativity that is reproduced through

276

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

traditional sex-stereotyping around patterns of dominance and control, care, household labor, and child rearing; these patterns further reproduce and privilege White, middle-class values (Oswald, Blume, & Marks, 2005). Here, heteronormativity operates as a “vast matrix of cultural beliefs, rules, rewards, privileges, and sanctions” (Oswald et al., 2005, p. 144) that serves to bind women to remain in heterosexual relationships even when the cost is as high as rape and assault. We conclude that for the group of women we interviewed, intimate relationships were inextricably bound up with gender performances (with “doing gender,” as West and Zimmerman [1987] would put it) within the heterosexual marriage contract. As a result, we would name the agency that they displayed in response to violence as agency that was also a subversion or resistance of the material realities of White middle-class heteronormativity. The Theoretical Story in the Data: A Dialectic of Involvement/Disentanglement The final phase of our grounded theory analysis involved selective coding. As we noted earlier, this entailed stepping back, reconsidering all the coding and analyses that had been done, rereading all the transcripts for the “flow” of each woman’s narrative, and looking for the main theoretical story within these 15 women’s experiences. Here we attempted to “connect the dots” and look at processes of change (both intrapsychic and relational) in order to see women’s agency as ongoing and full of multiplicities. Given this approach, a dialectical perspective was particularly useful in helping us begin to understand the fluidity of women’s agency. Contradiction and change are at the heart of a dialectical perspective; the emphasis is on the “both/and,” on “the dynamic interplay between oppositions” (Olson, Fine, & Lloyd, 2005, p. 319). We find that this perspective captures the many paradoxes, ambiguities, and contradictions that are at the heart of intimate partner violence. Certainly, the women in our study exhibited multiple and repeated forms of agency throughout their violent relationships, leading eventually to a paradigm shift and their disentanglement from the relationship. But, along the way, there were many forces that encouraged entanglement,

from their initial attraction to the partner (and to being “partnered,” to being in love) to the confluence of living spaces, friends, and resources, to the broader forces inherent in the heterosexual marriage contract and its encouragement to stay in an intimate relationship even in the face of violence (note here that we use our multiple readings of these data to draw conclusions— what we did for the present analysis as well as the analyses we detailed in Emery & Lloyd, 1994; Lloyd & Emery, 2000). We see in our data a dialectical relationship between these forces of involvement/ disentanglement. This dialectic can be seen on many levels. It includes processes of becoming connected to the relationship and maintaining one’s autonomy; becoming involved in and leaving the relationship; being pulled into an argument that turns violent and the attempt to disentangle from the violent episode; and involvement in the performance of gender and the actions taken to disentangle gender performance through resistance and subversion. Ultimately, we think understanding women’s agency in disentangling from a violent intimate relationship is enhanced by also understanding the forces that led to commitment to this man and relationship and that encourage continued involvement despite his violent behavior. This dialectical perspective can help explain how the dynamics of both the violence and the relationship shifted over time and space (Olson et al., 2005). By situating agency and violence within a dialectical context of involvement/ disentanglement, we hope to better understand just what women “do” to remain safe, to make sense of their simultaneous feelings of love and fear, to cope, and to survive despite interpersonal and material constraints. For example, some of the women we interviewed described repeatedly withholding their feelings and accommodating their violent partners. However, the stage of the relationship at which this occurred matters; in the beginning she may have been submissive for many reasons (viz., feelings for her partner), while at the end she may have submitted to her partner’s threats or demands while silently planning to leave. It is important to note that all these women described experiencing a significant shift in their paradigm for understanding their relationships, their abusive partners, and the abuse. They decided to leave (for whatever their individual reasons), and from

20. Discovering Women’s Agency in Response to Intimate Partner Violence

then on their actions had to be perceived or “coded” differently. For example, a survival action in the beginning of the relationship may be seen as a facet of “involvement,” whereas a similar response when the woman was trying to get out can be seen as a “disentanglement” strategy. This both/and dialectic reinforces our assertion that a woman can display agency while remaining in an abusive relationship as well as the fact that an act of agency can be part of relationship involvement as well as disentanglement. Ultimately, examining agency as present within both involvement and disentanglement represents another layer of understanding the complex nature of intimate partner violence.

CONCLUSIONS We end with a discussion of the tensions that we encountered in this project. The first set of tensions revolved around translating theory into analysis. Applying feminist theory/research to our reanalysis of narrative interviews raised key questions. How best can we capture dialectical, both/and processes? How do we analyze concepts of performativity and materiality? Should we purposefully look for the dominant narratives, even though we were arguing against them? How do we avoid reducing the women’s stories to a series of “actions” and thus render the women themselves invisible and also miss the larger stories they were telling us? The second set of tensions related to our use of an existing data set. We recognize that it was not a perfect fit for new conceptualizations and analyses, and as a result, we think of the current project as a pilot for a new study. Two important limitations must be noted. First, the women we interviewed were relatively homogeneous in age, race, class, sexuality, and ability; this limited our ability to look across and between social locations. Second, we did not originally design the interview questions with an examination of agency in mind. When we began to reanalyze our data, it was with a sense of curious apprehension and reconnection. Even though we did not explicitly ask about agency, the women in our study definitely gave voice to their experiences of agency. Or perhaps, it is just that we finally heard them. As these women’s voices speak again, we find that we are still learning from them. They most likely have more to tell us when we are ready to listen.

277

The final tension is a critical one for feminist theorizing. Dunn (2005) alerts us to the issues inherent in conceptualizing agency in a context of structural constraint: “To cast victims as agents can be interpreted as minimizing the effects of the forces arrayed against them” (p. 23). We must be cognizant of alternate interpretations of our work; has our attempt to complicate agency in response to violence served to shift attention back to actions of the individual and away from the social forces that legitimate male use of violence? Or have we (it is hoped) opened a door to recognizing multiple pathways to women’s empowerment in a context of constraint? We hope that our project has yielded useful and rich information that will stimulate future research on women’s agency in response to battering. Ultimately, the women who blessed us with their stories conveyed their positions as both active subjects and subjects of multiple oppressions who simultaneously subverted, accommodated, and resisted the violence and control of their partners and gender constructions.

REFERENCES Abu-Lughod, L. (1990). The romance of resistance: Tracing transformations of power through Bedouin women. American Ethnologist, 17, 41–55. Ahearn, L. M. (2001). Language and agency. Annual Review of Anthropology, 30, 109–137. Baker, P. L. (1997). And I went back: Battered women’s negotiation of choice. Journal of Contemporary Ethnography, 26, 55–74. Berns, N. (2001). Degendering the problem and gendering the blame: Political discourse on women and violence. Gender & Society, 15, 262–281. Berns, N. (2004). Framing the victim: Domestic violence, media, and social problems. New York: Aldine. Bograd, M. (1990). Why we need gender to understand human violence. Journal of Interpersonal Violence, 5, 132–135. Bordo, S. (1999). Feminist skepticism and the “maleness” of philosophy. In S. Hesse-Biber, C. Gilmartin, & R. Lydenberg (Eds.), Feminist approaches to theory and methodology: An interdisciplinary reader (pp. 29–44). New York: Oxford University Press. Brooks, A., & Hesse-Biber, S. N. (2007). An invitation to feminist research. In S. N. Hesse-Biber & P. L. Leavy (Eds.), Feminist research practice: A primer (pp. 1–26). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Butler, J. (1993). Bodies that matter: On the discursive limits of “sex.” New York: Routledge. Butler, J. (1999). Gender trouble: Feminism and the subversion of identity. New York: Routledge. Campbell, J., Rose, L., Kub, J., & Nedd, D. (1998). Voices of strength and resistance: A contextual and longitudinal analysis of women’s responses to battering. Journal of Interpersonal Violence, 13, 743–762. Choice, P. A., & Lamke, L. L. (1997). A conceptual approach to understanding abused women’s stay/leave decisions. Journal of Family Issues, 18, 290–314. Cockburn, C. (1990). The material of male power. In T. Lovell (Ed.), British feminist thought (pp. 84–102). Cambridge, MA: Blackwell.

278

PART III. FEMINIST THEORY INTO METHODOLOGY

Collins, P. H. (2000). Black feminist thought: Knowledge, consciousness, and the politics of empowerment (2nd ed.). New York: Routledge. De Reus, L. A., Few, A. L., & Blume, L. B. (2005). Multicultural and critical race feminisms: Theorizing families in the third wave. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. DilworthAnderson, & D. L. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 447–460). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Deveaux, M. (1999). Feminism and empowerment: A critical reading of Foucault. In S. Hesse-Biber, C. Gilmartin, & R. Lydenberg (Eds.), Feminist approaches to theory and methodology (pp. 236–257). New York: Oxford University Press. De Welde, K. (2003). Getting physical: Subverting gender through selfdefense. Journal of Contemporary Ethnography, 32, 247–278. Dunn, J. L. (2005). “Victims” and “survivors”: Emerging vocabularies of motive for “battered women who stay. Sociological Inquiry, 75, 1–30. Dunn, J. L., & Powell-Williams, M. (2007). “Everybody makes choices”: Victim advocates and the social construction of battered women’s victimization and agency. Violence Against Women, 10, 977–1001. Emery, B. C., & Lloyd, S. A. (1994). A feminist perspective on the study of women who use aggression in close relationships. In D. L. Sollie & L. A. Leslie (Eds.), Gender, families and close relationships: Feminist research journeys (pp. 237–262). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Foucault, M. (1978). The history of sexuality: An introduction (Vol. 1). New York: Pantheon Books. Gardiner, J. K. (1995). Introduction. In J. K. Gardiner (Ed.), Provoking agents: Gender and agency in theory and practice (pp. 1–22). Urbana: University of Illinois Press. Goodkind, J. R., Sullivan, C. M., & Bybee, D. I. (2004). A contextual analysis of battered women’s safety planning. Violence Against Women, 10, 514–533. Grosz, E. (1995). Space, time, and perversion. New York: Routledge. Hekman, S. (1995). Subjects and agents: The question for feminism. In J. K. Gardiner (Ed.), Provoking agents: Gender and agency in theory and practice (pp. 194–207). Urbana: University of Illinois Press. Henley, N. M., Miller, M., & Beazley, J. A. (1995). Syntax, semantics and sexual violence: Agency and the passive voice. Journal of Language and Social Psychology, 14, 60–84. Hollander, J. A. (2001). Vulnerability and dangerousness: The construction of gender through conversation about violence. Gender & Society, 15, 83–109. Jackson, S. (2001). Why a materialist feminism is (still) possible—and necessary. Women’s Studies International Forum, 24, 283–293. Kirkwood, C. (1993). Leaving abusive partners. Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Lamb, S. (1999). Constructing the victim: Popular images and lasting labels. In S. Lamb (Ed.), New versions of victims: Feminists struggle with the concept (pp. 108–138). New York: New York University Press. LaRossa, R. (2005). Grounded theory methods and qualitative family research. Journal of Marriage and Family, 67, 837–857. Leavy, P. L. (2007). The feminist practice of content analysis. In S. N. Hesse-Biber & P. L. Leavy (Eds.), Feminist research practice: A primer (pp. 223–248). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Lempert, L. B. (1996). Women’s strategies for survival: Developing agency in abusive relationships. Journal of Family Violence, 11, 269–289.

Liddle, J., & Wright, C. (2001). Introduction: Understanding local/global identities: Towards a materialist discursive feminism. Women’s Studies International Forum, 24, 273–281. Lloyd, S. A., & Emery, B. C. (2000). The dark side of courtship: Physical and sexual aggression. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Lloyd, S. A., & Emery, B. C. (2005, November). Women’s agency and heterosexual intimate partner violence. Paper presented at the Theory and Methodology Workshop, National Council on Family Relations, Phoenix, AZ. MacLeod, A. E. (1992). Hegemonic relations and gender resistance: The new veiling as accommodating protest in Cairo. Signs, 17, 533–557. Magnus, M. D. (2006). The unaccountable subject: Judith Butler and the social conditions of intersubjective agency. Hypatia, 21(2), 81–103. Mahoney, M. R. (1994). Victimization or oppression? Women’s lives, violence and agency. In M. A. Fineman & R. Mykitiuk (Eds.), The public nature of private violence: The discovery of domestic abuse (pp. 59–92). New York: Routledge. Maynard, M. (1995). Beyond the “big three”: The development of feminist theory into the 1990s. Women’s History Review, 4, 259–281. McNay, L. (1999). Subject, psyche and agency: The work of Judith Butler. Theory, Culture & Society, 16, 175–193. McNay, L. (2000). Gender and agency: Reconfiguring the subject in feminist and social theory. Malden, MA: Blackwell Press. Mohanty, C. T. (2003). Feminism without borders: Decolonizing theory, practicing solidarity. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Olson, L. N., Fine, M. A., & Lloyd, S. A. (2005). Theorizing about violence between intimates: A dialectical approach. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. DilworthAnderson, & D. L. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 315–331). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Oswald, R. F., Blume, L. B., & Marks, S. R. (2005). Decentering heteronormativity: A model for family studies. In V. L. Bengtson, A. C. Acock, K. R. Allen, P. DilworthAnderson, & D. L. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 143–154). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Rosen, K. H., & Stith, S. (1997). Surviving abuse: Processes of leaving, healing, and moving on. In G. K. Kantor & J. L. Jasinski (Eds.), Out of the darkness: Contemporary perspectives on family violence (pp. 170–182). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Sandoval, C. (1995). Feminist forms of agency and oppositional consciousness: U.S. Third World feminist critique. In J. K. Gardiner (Ed.), Provoking agents: Gender and agency in theory and practice (pp. 208–226). Urbana: University of Illinois Press. Sandoval, C. (2000). Methodology of the oppressed. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Stanko, E. A. (1996). Warnings to women: Police advice and women’s safety in Britain. Violence Against Women, 2, 5–24. Strauss, A. L., & Corbin, J. (1990). Basics of qualitative research. Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Thompson, L. (1992). Feminist methodology for family studies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 54, 3–18. West, C., & Zimmerman, D. (1987). Doing gender. Gender & Society, 1, 125–151. West, T. C. (1999). Wounds of the spirit: Black women, violence and resistance ethics. New York: New York University Press.

PA R T I V FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

21 HYBRID IDENTITIES AMONG INDIAN IMMIGRANT WOMEN A Masala of Experiences A NISA M ARY Z VONKOVIC A NINDITA DAS

T

his chapter takes the identities of Asian Indian women, such as ourselves, to illustrate the ways we formulate, negotiate, and dwell in our identities as Asian Indian women in the United States.1 Anisa is half-Indian, whose Muslim father was a first-generation immigrant from India, and Anindita is a first-generation immigrant from India. Using the concept of hybridity, we contend with the intersectionality of categories such as gender, religion, class, and other aspects of culture. In defining praxis as how we live our daily lives as hybrids of both Indian and U.S. cultural heritages and experience, we interrogate the cultural clashes we experience as feminists sensitized by postcolonial perspectives. An important component of

our praxis is creating a sense of home and dwelling in our identities. Engaging in such praxis joins us to the multitude of people transitioning across geographical space and political borders, particularly from postcolonial societies. Our task defies easy resolution. We understand that identity among South Asian2 immigrant and bicultural women cannot be accomplished by any uniform or completely resolved pinpointing of identity. As Das Dasgupta (1998) explains, identity formation and reformulation is a contentious process, “affected intensely by our location and relocation in physical as well as psychological worlds” (p. 7). These identity processes are complicated by our moves across geographical space.

Authors’ Note: The authors wish to thank Elizabeth Sharp for her generous and thoughtful critique of an earlier draft; Davis Borden Price for helping to clarify the concepts of praxis, dwelling, and abiding in home and identity; Daneille SoRelle-Miner for her input on feminist theory; Erika D. Brooks for her assistance; and the editors for their helpful comments.

281

282

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

HYBRIDITY AND MASALA AS CENTRAL ORGANIZING CONCEPTS OF THE PRAXIS OF OUR LIVES The concept of hybridity can be used to describe the existence of multiple identities operating in the same persons, flexibly joining with and altering the societies in which hybrids navigate: Hybridity is the third space which enables other positions to emerge. . . . [It] sets up new structures of authority, new political initiatives, [and] a new area of negotiation of meaning and representation. Hybrids engage in acts of cultural translation. (Chaudhry, 1998, p. 47)

In this way, hybrids attempt to reconcile their agency with their positionality in their cultural heritage. Living in the interstices of this space among conflicting and shifting heritages and identities allows for an authentic sharing of practice and understanding to emerge. Hybrids, in their praxis, demonstrate hope for interaction across cultures in a postcolonial world. Poore (1998), for example, wrote about the dilemmas of identifying her ethnicity, describing how her birth certificate identifies her ethnicity in one way, her parents’ different ethnicities lead them to describe themselves in different ways, her grandparents identify themselves as Ceylonese, taking on the colonized name of their country, and she now says, “I am a South Asian of dual Tamil heritage born and raised in Malaysia” (p. 28). Hasnat (1998) writes of clearly prioritizing her identities: first, by her religion; second, by her citizenship; and third, by her ethnicity. Hasan (2002), in contrast, born in the United States and raised in Colorado, describes herself as a “Muslim feminist cowgirl.” It is the work of praxis to negotiate and dwell in this space negotiating identity and physical residence. Alcoff ’s (1988) notion of positionality would be useful here in how women create hybrid mixtures of cultures as a result of negotiating borders between their cultures. Mohanty (1991) insisted that hybrid positionality is inherently political, and for her, it includes anticolonial and feminist positions. Second-generation IndianAmericans are often referred to by first-generation immigrants as ABCDs (American born confused Desis) or even specifically ABCDEFGs (American born confused Desis emigrating from Gujarat) with HIJ (houses in Jersey); and first-generation

immigrants are often called FOB (fresh off the boat) (Visweswaran, 1993). Visweswaran’s essay posits that the hyphen (in Indian-American) indicates movement between the two positions of Indian and American, and that meaning only can reside in the movement between these positions. The image of a masala or curry mix can provide illustration of the power and appeal of hybridity. Different cooks from different regions prepare masala in similar ways, but there is variation in each. When we prepare a masala, we make it differently depending on who we are serving and depending on what type of food we are cooking—in other words, we contextualize it. Masala tastes better than the sum of its parts. The food is just an example of the mix and intersections of customs; scholars have written about how food tastes get combined by trade routes and by the blendings of different cultures (Collingham, 2006). The film director Mira Nair described a protagonist in a film using this image, declaring, “Mina is the masala . . . born in Africa, raised in England, living in Greenwood” (Sachs, 1992, p. 18). Our vantage point on our hybridity is strongly grounded in postcolonial perspectives that recognize the social and political positioning of individuals in multiple cultures. A postcolonial perspective reveals why it is that strong models of women (in our heritages and others) have not been visible—yet such models are essential, as they provide a legacy for constructing selves in interaction with larger societal forces of power, including patriarchy, classism, and racism. Postcolonialism: Lived Reality for South Asian Women Common themes and issues bind postcolonial theorists together, despite the diversity, debate, and evolutions of the field. Postcolonial theorists challenge and question how dominant groups, particularly those from the “First World,” represent and construct meanings about groups with less power, particularly “subjects” from the “Third World.” Postcolonial theories focus on cultural representations, discourses, positioning, and power. Self and identity are constituted by historical, political, and social forces (Bhabha, 1994; Spivak, 1993). Postcolonial perspectives allow contemporary social critics to deconstruct the ways in which Indian immigrants are portrayed

21. Hybrid Identities Among Indian Immigrant Women

in U.S. culture: as stereotypes of either the “model minority” (e.g., engineers and doctors, an Asian stereotype) or as store clerks. Such stereotypes mask diversity in the Indian immigrant experience and allow people to ignore the invisible immigrants, such as undocumented workers and communities that exploit women’s labor (Bhattacharjee, 1998; DasGupta & Das Dasgupta, 1998; Rasiah, 1993). Immigration and citizenship policies of the United States in the past 200 years fostered “racial regimes” intended to keep slaves, indentured laborers and non-European foreigners as aliens and outsiders (Mohanty, 1991). Patterns of immigration and citizenship laws reflected racial biases that preferenced Europeans over non-Europeans and also the “economic exigencies of the state” (Mohanty, 1991, p. 24). Postcolonial literature and theorizing take colonization as a metaphor, a discursive move used to describe how culturally bound and androcentric Western perspectives have been for explaining the experiences of peoples over the world (Mohanty, 1988). For South Asians, however, colonization is both a discursive effort produced by long-ago historical oppressions, and it is based on a more proximal experience. The history of how different ethnic and religious groups came to a country reveals truths about political power and legacies of dominance and accounts for the “rootlessness” commonly felt among diasporic South Asians (Rasiah, 1993). For example, in India, Muslims are descended from Moghul conquerors who were colonized by the British and are now a minority group. India was, after all, one of the foremost British colonies, the “jewel in the crown” of the Empire. Indian immigration stories span historical time and the globe, as Indian laborers were used by the British Empire to cultivate land in other British colonies and Indians were sent to South Africa to work on the railways. Prior to that time, the Portuguese colonized and spread their culture in the western part of India, forcing migration of some Indian people from Goa to South America and Europe (Srinivasan, 1993; Visweswaran, 1993). For these reasons, many people identify culturally or ethnically as Indian, though their immediate family histories may have been placed in other regions. Postcolonial perspectives recognize the different social locations of these individuals; for example, being from a South Asian country is an experience that is influenced by the dominance of India (Islam, 1993; Poore, 1998).

283

Colonized language sees differences and exoticism in the experiences and cultures of nonWesterners. Because of the legacy of colonialism, “nativists” want to discard many things from the colonial forces and idealizing and freezing in time cultural practices that may have been adaptive in the precolonial era at one point in time (Mohanty, 1988). This stance seems fruitless, since it is impossible to know what the cultures would have been like without colonization. Western people often adopt some practices of South Asian culture, as colonizers, without understanding their meaning (Hasnat, 1998; Islam, 1993; Mohanty, 1988). For example, it is amusing and somewhat bemusing to observe trendy women’s nose piercings, belly dancing workouts, practice of yoga, and collections of Indian objects (e.g., people have observed Indians’ statues of deities and said, “Oh, I love collecting elephants!”). Many Indian fiction writers portray similar stories in touching and amusing ways, though they do not typically politicize, “familize,” or feminize them (Divakaruni, 1998; Lahiri, 2000, 2004; Reddi, 2007). Reflexivity: Our Histories Anindita and Anisa We come to the collaboration required in this chapter from a set of histories that carry with them different experiences. Anisa has lived in a bicultural world from birth. Anindita has experienced a sense of “otherness” since immigration to the United States for graduate school. Officially her existence in this country is tied to a bunch of documents: immigration documents and notification documents for travel outside the country and for her family’s visit to her. U.S. policies affect Anindita’s life and plans for the future. Together, we offer a masala of experiences in U.S. and Indian cultures. Both of us have been asked questions such as, “Where are you from?” and Anindita typically is posed the companion question, “When will you return?” From childhood, people have struggled with pronouncing Anisa’s name and questioning her origin. People have wondered, “Are you an Indian (Native American)? How can you be an Indian with a Muslim surname (Khan)?” People who identify her current surname with its origin (Croatian) are especially puzzled concerning how these different heritages could come together. Anindita encountered many earsplitting questions regarding herself, and her replies generated comments such as “You can speak and understand English, wow!!! How is it that you do

284

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

not have an accent?” Anindita’s education in India was in an English “convent” school, so her English is anglicized, and it has a British English intonation pattern.

Home and host country culture and politics collide, and bicultural and immigrant women actively deal with this collision. Rather than evaluating these women from a single cultural perspective, or from a dual perspective (Indian vs. U.S.), their lives can be better explained when all these sociocultural relations and their sociocultural legacies from their home countries are taken into account. Thus, immigrant and bicultural women are hybrids in whom religion, class, region, and skin color are combined. Furthermore, our everyday battles are intertwined by race and gender politics in the larger American society that are often filtered through our positions in our families and communities. The ways we create and work within hybrid systems of culture depending on our social context are myriad and worthy of explication.

RELIGION AND CLASS Asian Indians vary in their ancestry, reflected in differing religions in which social class differences are embedded, both of which relate to cultural practices. In this section, we will detail how religious traditions affect Asian Indian women’s lives in the United States. Religion intersects with social class, caste, and sect; although these categories are historical, they carry legacies today. These categories complicate the ways in which women’s cultural heritages, and accompanying religious traditions, affect them and their daily lives. The Hindu caste system facilitated the hereditary transfer of occupational status, power, and wealth (Khasunaveesu, 2005). The caste system has historically been a force of disunity in contemporary Indian culture and among Indian Americans in terms of marital alliances (Khasunaveesu). Sect divisions also are very prominent in other groups, including Muslims and Sikhs (whose religion holds the destruction of the Hindu caste system as a central tenet). Many Western feminists, falling prey to the Third World as a difference viewpoint, view Muslim women in narrow ways that conflate cultural practices with religious ones (Hasan, 2002; Hasnat, 1998). Illustrations of this viewpoint

would be to assume that all Muslim women are oppressed and exploited, or to assume that cultural practices in some Muslim countries are unchangeable due to their assumed religious bases (Hasan; Hasnat). Separations of religion do not necessarily carry over into social interactions or identity constructions across oceans. Celebrations that started as religious rituals, for example, Diwali or breaking the fast at Eid, become cultural celebrations in which immigrants of all religious faiths actively participate. However, marriage alliances and other more intimate social interactions still largely cleave according to religion, caste, and social class lines. It should be clear from the discussion of religion that diversity among Indians in the United States is tied to religious heritage, but religious practices are a combination of regional cultural practices as well as religious beliefs, situated within a particular class. Reflexivity: Religion and Class Anindita Since my childhood, I have been a strong advocate for underrepresented children and women in adverse situations. Despite participating and working with these groups, I was not aware of my own superiority as an upper caste Hindu from an educated family. While growing up, I strongly opposed the caste system, the treatment of widows, and child labor, but my sheltered position in the social and cultural hierarchy prevented me from truly understanding the intricacies of religion, caste, and class. After coming to the United States, being in the margins of the society as an immigrant woman student of color, I realize my present cultural positioning along with the difference in my position in both the societies. As I have developed and expressed compassion for members of Parents, Families, and Friends of Lesbians and Gays (PFLAG) and Planned Parenthood, my identity as an authentic Indian is questioned. This experience, I feel, has affected me in evaluating culture, traditions, rituals, customs, and economic and political policies in a different way. I now respect the different perspectives while evaluating issues, and I also appreciate how the issues affect people differently depending on their religious and cultural positioning. Anisa My own religious background was quite different from that of a religious purist or someone from a culture in which dealings between religious groups are contentious. My father went to liberal

21. Hybrid Identities Among Indian Immigrant Women Methodist and Presbyterian churches with our family, but he also always attended the mosque on Fridays. He used to say, regarding Christianity, “Sure I believe all that and that there was a prophet afterwards too.” It evoked in me an awareness and acceptance of spirituality in many manifestations, though I must also admit that my mother seemed much more moved by the choir and music in a church than by scriptures. Such an upbringing that encouraged me to see the sacred in nature, in experiences, and in all people no doubt influenced me to choose religious studies as one of my undergraduate majors. The contemporary extremism of India, of the Middle East, and arguably of the United States was very different from the religious expression of my father’s and my own youth. My father told a story about the partitioning of India when he was a college student. He was taking the train home from college in New Delhi when a mob of Hindus stormed the train looking for Muslims. It was the time of the Diwali festival and the atmosphere had turned from raucous to dangerous. Even though he had only just met them on the journey, Hindu passengers on the train protected him from a mob, saying, “You are our brother.”

REGIONAL CULTURAL ISSUES AND SKIN COLOR Not commonly understood in the United States is the fact that, in India, skin color is generally associated with coming from a particular region, and the variations of skin color and region are associated with biases and preferences. North Indians are aware that they are thought to be better looking than non-North Indians (Fisher, 1980), considered to be of the Aryan race and hence superior. Mazumdar (1989) stated that beliefs in the superiority of fair skin prevail in many parts of the world colonized by the Europeans. These biases are not left behind in India; indeed marriage matching Web sites include categories for rating the skin color of prospective marriage partners, and research has demonstrated a clear preference for women of lighter skin (Jha & Adelman, 2006). Not only does skin color “place” Indians by region, but Asian Indian immigrant women also have the experience of confronting an identity as a “woman of color” for the first time as they live in the United States. For biracial women, the problems are both deeper and, to some extent, easier to avoid: Are they to be considered to

285

“pass for White”? Immigrant women of color and biracial women engage in constant vigilance to maintain the fragile toehold on being part of a majority culture, thereby denying parts of themselves. Or by insisting on articulating the various heritages they claim, they often subject themselves to scrutiny for not being authentic or purely South Asian (Bhatt, 1993; Srinivasan, 1993). Skin color variations have implications for how women are regarded within India and in the United States (similar to Latinas and Black women). Seen in a global context, South Asian women in Western contexts can be evaluated as exotic, and often struggle with the larger world’s view of them along the “Asian-Indian-goddesswhore” construct (it is not uncommon for Indian women to be harassed in this country by White men mentioning the Kama Sutra), while their own cultural community attempts to monitor and maintain strong control over their sexuality (Bhaskaran, 1993; DasGupta & Das Dasgupta, 1998; Karamcheti, 1993). In sum, Eastern and Western cultures attend to our skin color with a myriad contradictory attributions: exotic, erotic, “too dark,” and failing to meet beauty standards.

Reflexivity: Skin Color Anisa Because my father was a North Indian Muslim, his skin tone was lighter than that of most other Indians. With a White mother, my skin tone is lighter still than my father’s. People are constantly trying to figure out my brothers’ and my ethnicity. We joke among ourselves that we are prominently featured in public relations displays and committees because we are ambiguously ethnic. One telling story about my skin color and its connection to presumptions people make occurred the week after I graduated from high school, when I went to open a checking account to use in college. My older brother and I went to the First Virginia Bank at Bailey’s Crossroads. I was very tanned having returned from a week at the beach with friends. I am sure I was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. The teller assumed that my brother was my husband, and she only directed conversation to him. When he said his intention was for me to open a checking account, she responded, “Does she speak English?” My brother and I could not have been more shocked! We replied in unison, “Yes, of course,” and I went on to say I was preparing

286

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

to attend the University of Virginia. The teller (not even embarrassed by this interchange) complimented me on my lack of accent, to which my brother and I explained that we had been born and raised in the United States, within a mile of the bank. Recalling this incident, it is disturbing how easily my sense of belonging could be challenged and disrupted. Anindita As I interacted with people and the American society, I realized that in several situations, I felt like an “outsider.” During my early years in the United Stares, it is hard to explain which difference was more difficult—looking different, speaking different, or feeling different. Personally, the most difficult situation was the feeling of being a culturally incompetent member of the new society. People react to my looks, accent, and also to my name. For instance, when I was at the local pharmacy to collect my prescription, the pharmacist said that they did not have any name like that on the list of orders. During this time, waiting in the queue was a White woman, around 60 years of age, who initiated a conversation with me. At first her question was regarding my nationality. Then she exclaimed, “I have not seen any woman from your nationality so forthright about what she wants.” Her remarks were condescending and interrogative. She said that she had heard on the Oprah show that Indian women have their clitoris mutilated when they are only 6 years old, and they were also known for the tradition of Sati (a widow dying by being thrown or by throwing herself on her husband's funeral pyre). She thought that these inhumane and cruel practices subjugated women, deprived them the right over their bodies, and controlled their right to have sexual pleasure. She said that she was shocked to know how parents in India were so cruel to their daughters, and she was unable to understand why and how women in India consent to the issues. I realized her questions were related to my being forceful and assertive with the pharmacist. I mused about her contradiction: How could a woman from a country that does not treat its women equally and has scant regard for their voices regarding their own bodies have so much control over a situation in a foreign country? I thought that on every conversation topic she was trying to position my difference and her evidenced hierarchy and moral superiority by (re)evaluating me as a woman, an Indian, and a person of color.

GENDERED FAMILY AND WORK EXPERIENCES In any project attempting to demonstrate hybridity across cultures, the gender of hybrids and how gender is positioned within families has to be considered. Our lived experience and those of the women in our families stand in sharp contrast to the perception of Western feminists, as postcolonial theorizing would suggest. True for other non-White and Hispanic cultures, identity is constituted through familism, incorporating not just one’s household but also one’s place in the larger family and ethnic system (Bhattacharjee, 1998; DasGupta & Das Dasgupta, 1998). Participating in paid work is expected of Indian women immigrants, especially educated women. Training for and participating in professional employment demonstrates hybridizing work, as women dwell in the space of reconciling their work and family lives within the larger Western world, their cultural niche, and their family experiences. The model of breadwinning as an individual enterprise, a Western colonized notion, may obscure the meaning of income-generating work in familistic cultures. An ethnographic analysis by Mies (1982) of Indian women homemakers’ participation in the lace-making industry out of their homes showed that women supplement their husbands’ income, functioning as breadwinners while making it appear that they are “at home”—not upsetting the male-as-breadwinner/ woman-as-housewife ideology. Immigrant women in the United States also work in homebased businesses: sewing, cooking, and other culturally appropriate endeavors. Breadwinning opportunities and constraints depended on social class, as women were exquisitely aware that their social class and caste required that they maintain the illusion of male provision (Mies). The decision to emigrate, by and large, is not made by women. Most typical immigration stories concern educational and employment opportunities for men in families, though recently women also have sought these opportunities. Many Indian fiction stories reflect the common practice of U.S.-educated men being matched with Indian women for marriage, typically through family networking, often resulting in the woman’s first overseas visit following her wedding as the new family settles in the United States (Lahiri, 2000,

21. Hybrid Identities Among Indian Immigrant Women

2004; Reddi, 2007). Most first-generation Indian women immigrants have followed their husbands to the United States. First-and-a-half (those who came to the United States at a very young age) and second-generation (those whose parents were immigrants) Indian women are typically in their host country locations through decisions made by their fathers. The system of arranged marriage is an accepted institution, and Indian men living in the West are considered superior matches in the marriage market in India. Indian women who arrive in the United States face intense isolation and, even with migration, the familial patriarchal power is typically sustained, though it may be reconfigured to include women’s paid work and increased interaction with public systems such as schools and libraries (Mani, 1994).

THE PRAXIS OF HOME: CONSTRUCTING AND DWELLING IN HOMES What does it mean, as a woman, to be responsible for the creation of home and the maintenance of culture in a new and potentially hostile culture? What does it mean as a bicultural person to have no clear belonging to either culture as a home? According to George (1996), home is a negotiated stance shaped through multiple forces, such as race, class, and gender. It is created through the places where geographical location, racial background, and cultural history concurrently impact an individual. It is finding one’s self as an immigrant who has been relocated, either voluntarily, politically, or geographically, from her place of birth. However, there is a distinction between home and home country. The “present/here” versus “past/there” notions of home are paradoxically out of reach. Home is, rather, an imaginary space. Ultimately, home is not a static, uniform ideal. It varies among immigrants, depending on how and under what situation they were dislocated from the home country (George). Bicultural people, rather than vacillating between home country and new home, never have belonged and can never truly belong in either (Bhatt, 1993; Srinivasan, 1993; Visweswaran, 1993).

287

Reflexivity Gendered Work and Family Experiences Anisa and Anindita Perhaps because of our social class, achieving high ereducation hasbeen stressed as a priority for both of us.Many of our extended family members have completed graduate education in the United States and the United Kingdom. Our families (both extended and in the house holds we have formed) assume that we will have professional jobs. The issue of higher education sets us a part from some stereotypes of Indian women. Our feminism sets us a part from expectations of prioritizin familial duties while achieving high salaries as a member of the model minority. Our understanding of our connections to our families, broadly conceived, can also illustrate the ways that our experiences contrast with U.S. families. Anindita My first day of the PhD program was memorable because it made merealize that I am different in comparison to my classmates, mostly in my thinking about what constitutes family, and how family, caregiving, and home making are viewed in both worlds. It old my class that I had been to India to assist my mother-in-law in taking care of her mother who was in a coma. This sounded shocking to a number of the students due to their sense that the relationship between me and my husband’s mother’s mother was too distant. I explained to my classmates that marriage in India is considered an alliance of several families. After the ceremony, the brides live with the inlaws to become familiar with their husband’s kin and extended family. Since I had stayed at my inlaws’ house after my wedding, I had developed a special bond with my mother-in-law’s mother. When I learned that she was sick and in a coma, I wanted to do something for her in her final days of life.They did not understand why I wanted to do that when she was not even in her senses. Most of my classmates had a hard time understanding how the processes even worked with out the expectation of reward. I was conflicted because it was hard for me to explain to them my sense of accomplishment. Despite livin in theUnited States, being able to takecare of my mother-in-law’s mother was a proud moment forme because I was able to fulfill my duties and obligations toward my family.

Each person asserts the validity of their own expression of home. In this sense, then,

288

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

home resembles a literary creation, subject to postcolonial analysis, which can only be evaluated through the story of the individual as both inside and outside the home to be examined. Asian Indian women find themselves facing competing versions of embodying traditionality and their home culture, as well as the ability to adapt and create a new home. Cultural relocation and the unfolding of migrant identities involve constant negotiation with old and new traditions (Hegde, 1998). Such mediations of selfhood are never finite, complete, or benign. Rather, the theme of being an “other” continually echoes in the lives of immigrants and bicultural peoples, thus displacing and deferring their sense of coherence. Mohanty (1993) says her experiences have led her to a sense of home that is not “a comfortable, stable, inherited, and familiar space, but instead as an imaginative, politically charged space” (p. 353). South Asian immigrant and bicultural women negotiate between communities in the United States and their cultural communities. Their community struggles to present itself as a spiritual, traditional, and homogeneous group with ancient cultural roots (Mohanty, 1993; Visweswaran, 1993). The self-appointed “guardians of morality and tradition” (Yuval-Davis, 1992, p. 285), including religious and community leaders, older men and women, ever present among immigrant communities, are deeply concerned with women’s roles and sexual behavior (Yuval-Davis). Besieged by rejection, racism, and scorn, these self-appointed guardians have found fertile ground from which to control women’s sexuality in the name of religion and preserving tradition. It is on the backs of women, through monitoring, that the supporters of tradition rely for maintaining home in the host country. Subjugation of gender becomes the means to claim power otherwise denied to immigrants by racism. As a consequence, women of Asian Indian immigrant families of all ages face restriction on their behavior, and their bodies become the litmus test of purity. While men are allowed and encouraged to develop new identities in the new country, girls and women are expected to continue living as if they were still living in India—and often the India of the immigrant’s youth, possibly several decades ago (Yuval-Davis).

Reflexivity: Finding and Abiding in Home as Monitored Women Women monitor each other and assess each other for how they present themselves as Indian women, through a process not unlike women monitoring gender displays. We can think of this monitoring and assessment as ethnicity displays. Anindita I had to live away from my husband to complete the doctoral degree. Women from the Indian community in the United States, and Indian friends (who themselves have PhDs), emphasized to me appropriate roles, responsibilities, and duties of an Indian woman. One friend said, “How are you going to stay away from your husband and live all alone. . . . It is against the nature of Indian women to do that!!” The concern they showed and the yardstick they used to judge me was not out of concern for my husband or my family members in India. The most important message that was emphasized over and over was that I was not a devoted wife because I was doing a PhD to satisfy my selfish ego and that I am a feminist. This is overemphasized with an obscured assumption that feminists do not have families or do not care to have them, do not have partners that they love, and are dominant in relationships, caring only about their own selves. Anisa I feel assessed and constantly failing in Indian events. When Muslims learn of my heritage, they immediately seem to assess my ethnicity and religious displays and often tell me the many ways that I fail in their assessment: my dress (not sufficiently modest); my career (particularly the stances I take); and the upbringing of my children (who have never been inside a mosque). I was introduced to a faculty member in Lubbock whose last name is the same as my birth last name. This woman insisted my name must have been spelled the Jewish way (Kahn). I finally said, “I should know what my last name was, yes, my father was Muslim.” Then the woman demanded to know why I did not practice the faith of my paternal heritage. All this in the introduction! I faced a more hurtful conflict related to my performance as a good Muslim daughter when my father was suffering from Alzheimer’s. As a result of his disease, he lost English and most other languages he spoke, except for his mother tongue, Urdu. I was in a position where I needed the assistance of his Muslim friends, whom he met through the local

21. Hybrid Identities Among Indian Immigrant Women mosque. They explained to him the procedures he needed to undergo, and they helped me understand his daily concerns. There were happy times when a group of us—a Muslim family with two young children, me and my two young children—went together to a public park across the street from my father’s care facility. Yet there was always the judgment about me for not being a dutiful daughter. Let alone that I had never learned to speak Urdu and was not a practicing Muslim. Because I badly needed the help of these families, I bit my lip and subjugated my feelings. How can a bicultural person be a guardian of piety and tradition? How dare others who don’t accept me judge me?

CONCLUSION: RECLAIMING THE VIRANGANA Reincarnating a form of mythological informed Indian womanhood and femininity, the virangana, allows for the imagination of possibilities that blend continuity and tradition in a way that positions women as active and in the center of inquiry. Immigrant and bicultural women can create strong identities formulated through their complex, often contentious, bicultural lived experiences. To frame these identities apart from the colonized rigidities and frozen-in-time understandings of their home culture is a challenge. DasGupta and Das Dasgupta (1998) discuss the potential for women to come to an understanding of their selves through an ancient image of women as viranganas, women warriors who are fearless leaders and saviors of the downtrodden. This model exists in both Hindu and Muslim cultures and could formulate a useful image for women in the United States. Reclaiming the virangana for us means, in part, social action. We have both worked in the domestic violence movement. We are strong allies of organizations (PFLAG and Planned Parenthood) that are commonly seen as feminist and not heavily represented by women of color where we live. We remain active in feminist organizations— www.MarketPlaceIndia.org is one such group that establishes cooperatives of Indian women who design, manufacture, embellish, and sell textiles. At our university, a conservative political student group recently staged an event called “Catch the Illegal Immigrant.” Our social action against this event allowed for an alliance to form between the

289

cultural student organizations, the Feminist Majority Leadership Alliance organization (which Anisa advises), and other student and faculty groups and individuals. This advocacy culminated in an open letter to faculty, staff, and students authored by the provost, focusing on the unethical and unwelcoming message sent by the event. These examples demonstrate our daily praxis toward the creation of true dialogue across cultures, religion, and region, not only for the benefit of communities but also for our selves. As Mohanty (1993) so eloquently put it, “Home, community, and identity all fall somewhere between the histories and experiences we inherit and the political choices we make through alliances, solidarities, and friendships” (p. 357). We stay in dialogue with other women of color and others who do not fit into White, middle-class, mainstream society. In our view, praxis means practice, and we see that working with the unprivileged is a practice of learning about our selves and claiming the parts of our selves that our current conditions and our historical heritages suppress or deny. It is a practice of recognition and solidarity. We agree with Bhaskaran (1993), who describes her attempts to discover who her people are: “When I think of my own people, the only people I can think of as my own are transitional, liminals, borderdwellers, ‘world’-travellers, beings in the midst . . .” (p. 200). In working in solidarity with women of color and feminist groups, we discover our communities and our selves. Reclaiming the virangana connects our intimate lives with cultural patterns. Anisa Growing up, I originated a code word used in my family for when strangers interacted with my father as if he didn’t know what he was doing and couldn’t speak English: It was “d.f.” which stood for “dumb foreigner.”We used this code word to feel superior to those who would put my father (or us) down. For me, straddling two cultures is a continual and never completely successful effort. I cannot be an effective cultural translator for that larger group that doesn’t accept me. I enjoy Indian music and dance, and I (along with my brother) availed myself of the Indian hookah (water pipe) my father had brought back from overseas, using the culture as an easy excuse for experimentation (in the words of the band Cornershop, “It’s Indian tobacco, my

290

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

friend”). I think that my foray into traditional sorority culture (at the University of Virginia, a school proud of its Southern U.S. traditions) changed it: After me, two Jewish young women pledged, then an Asian Buddhist woman. I may not have been an effective ambassador for Indian or Muslim culture, but I did help open up the organization to different religious heritages. Professionally, I don’t know if it’s my cultural experience or my personality, but I seem to refuse to fit in. My research area of work and family could be seen as a continual attempt to negotiate two cultures! I’m always attracted to ideas and concepts that are undervalued or on the outside of any discipline. In West Texas now, as an administrator, I will always be an outsider, due to my gender, worldview, bicultural background, and ethnicity. I am at a disadvantage relative to Whites when it comes to raising funds from alumni and donors. But with my unconventionality, I offer an appreciation of difference. I think often of the Gandhi quote: “First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win.” Personally, I seem to be comfortable being uncategorizable, and to some extent, unknowable. It’s as if the impossible effort to truly bridge different cultures and to be accepted in either has left me with an ability to put on a culturally accepted persona and an appreciation of the power of being on the outside or on the margins.

In confronting a U.S. culture that tends to flatten its perceptions of us, we find alliances with other women of color. These alliances are in some ways unanticipated, since we might not have stood in solidarity with other women of color in India, as Anisa would be considered having light-skinned privilege, and Anindita would find herself among the majority religion and in an economically advantaged situation. We take a more critical perspective on U.S. and Indian cultures, increasing our view of the importance of home and family as the place we belong. This sense of belonging is never complete. Anisa’s family used an in-joke in a way that supported Indian English and established family solidarity in the face of an unsupportive culture. Anindita often feels that through her interactions, her Indian English has a marginal and asymmetrical relationship to American English, producing a sense of foreignness as well as belonging: a sense of belonging because she can communicate with everyone, and people understand her, hence English is not a foreign language. However, the foreignness of the

language comes in the manner it is spoken in the United States. She feels and is perceived as a foreigner using the language because of her accent and the way she uses certain words that are not in symmetry with American English. In home settings, both family households and the homes we create, there is a sense of understanding at least some aspects of where we are coming from, though feminist and postcolonial critiques of our home lives are not always widely appreciated. Our project in this chapter will have been successful if we were able to situate Asian Indian immigrant women in their marginality, heeding bell hooks’s (2004) call to “understand . . . marginality as a position and a place of resistance . . . crucial for oppressed, exploited, colonized people” (p. 165). We dwell in the spaces on the margins where the effects of power structures are attenuated, and we exercise our agency through resistance behaviors as well as translations (Chaudhry, 1998). We recognize that our hybridity is a visible demonstration of the ways that each of us is inextricably and intimately tied to others (Holland, 2005). Through this effort, we use the positionality of Asian Indian immigrant women to demonstrate the connections between members of contemporary global society and to explore the unavoidable legacies of our connections that we hope to reveal, transcend, hybridize, and dwell within.

NOTES 1. Currently, Asian Indians are the fourth largest group of Asian immigrants to the United States, behind Chinese-, Filipino- and Japanese-American Asian Indians are 11.8% of the Asian American population, Pakistanis are 1.2%, Bangladeshis are 0.2%, and Sri Lankans are 0.2%, forming a total of 13.4% (U.S. Bureau of the Census, 2001). 2. The term South Asian refers to people from the nations of Bhutan, India, the Maldives, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Pakistan, and Bangladesh.

REFERENCES Alcoff, L. (1988). Cultural feminism versus post-structuralism: The identity crisis in feminist theory. Signs: Journal of Women in Culture & Society, 13, 405–436. Bhabha, H. (1994). The location of culture. New York: Routledge. Bhaskaran, S. (1993). Physical subjectivity and the risk of essentialism. In South Asian Women’s Descent Collective (Eds.), Our feet walk the sky: Women of the South Asian diaspora (pp. 191–208). San Francisco: Aunt Lute Press. Bhatt, S. (1993). To motiba and grandma. In South Asian Women’s Descent Collective (Eds.), Our feet walk the sky: Women of the South Asian diaspora (pp. 315–319). San Francisco: Aunt Lute Press.

21. Hybrid Identities Among Indian Immigrant Women Bhattacharjee, A. (1998). The habit of ex-nomination: Nation, women, and the Indian bourgeoisie. Public Culture, 5, 19–44. Chaudhry, L. (1998). “We are graceful swans who can also be crows”: Hybrid identities of Pakistani muslim women. In S. Das Dasgupta (Ed.), A patchwork shawl: Chronicles of South Asian women in America (pp. 46–61). New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Collingham, L. (2006). Curry: A tale of cooks and conquerors. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. Das Dasgupta, S. (1998). A patchwork shawl: Chronicles of South Asian women in America. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. DasGupta, S., & Das Dasgupta, S. (1998). Sex, lies, and women’s lives: An intergenerational dialogue. In S. Das Dasgupta (Ed.), A patchwork shawl: Chronicles of South Asian women in America (pp. 111–128). New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Divakaruni, C. (1998). The mistress of spices. New York: Macmillan. Fisher, M. P. (1980). The Indians of New York city: A study of immigrants from India. Columbia, MO: South Asia Books. George, R. M. (1996). The politics of home: Postcolonial relocations and twentieth century fiction. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Hasan, A. G. (2002). American muslims. New York: Continuum. Hasnat, N.(1998). Being “Amreekan”: Fried chicken versus chicken tikka. In S. Das Dasgupta (Ed.), A patchwork shawl: Chronicles of South Asian women in America (pp. 33–45). New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Hegde, R. S. (1998). Swinging the trapeze: The negotiation of identity among Asian Indian immigrant women in the United States. In D. V. Tanno & A. Gonzales (Eds.), Communication and identity across cultures (pp. 34–55). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Holland, S. (2005). The feminist standpoint theory reader: Intellectual and political controversies (S. Harding, Ed.). New York: Routledge. hooks, b. (2004). Choosing the margin as a space of radical openness. In S. Harding (Ed.), The feminist standpoint theory reader: Intellectual and political controversies (pp. 153–167). New York: Routledge. Islam, N. (1993). In the belly of the multicultural beast I am named South Asian. In South Asian Women’s Descent Collective (Eds.), Our feet walk the sky: Women of the South Asian diaspora (pp. 242–245). San Francisco: Aunt Lute Press. Jha, S., & Adelman, M. (2006, April 13). Looking for love in all the White places: A study of skin color preferences on Indian matrimonial and mate-seeking web sites. Paper presented at the Intersections of Race & Gender: (Re)Imagining the Family Interdisciplinary Conference, Seattle University, Wismer Center for Gender & Diversity Studies, Seattle, WA. Karamcheti, I. (1993). The graves of academe. In South Asian women’s descent collective (Eds.), Our feet walk the sky: Women of the South Asian diaspora (pp. 274–276). San Francisco: Aunt Lute Press.

291

Khasunaveesu, S. S. (2005, April). Religion and politics in India. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the The Midwest Political Science Association, Palmer House Hilton, Chicago, IL. Retrieved June 27, 2008, from www.allacademic.com/ meta/p86581_index.html Lahiri, J. (2000). The interpreter of maladies. New York: Houghton Mifflin. Lahiri, J. (2004). The namesake. New York: Houghton Mifflin. Mani, L. (1994). Gender, class, and cultural conflict: Indu Krishnan’s “knowing her place.” In South Asian Women’s Descent Collective (Eds.), Our feet walk the sky: Women of the South Asian diaspora (pp. 32–36). San Francisco: Aunt Lute Press. Mazumdar, V. (1989). Gender issues and educational development: An overview from Asia. New Delhi, India: Centre for Women’s Development Studies. Mies, M. (1982). The lacemakers of Narsapur: Indian housewives produce for the world market. London: Zed Books. Mohanty, C. T. (1988). Under Western eyes: Feminist scholarship and colonial discourses. Feminist Review, 30, 61–88. Mohanty, C. T. (1991). Cartographies of struggle: Third World women and the politics of feminism. In C. T. Mohanty, A. Russo, & L. Torres (Eds.), Third World women and the politics of feminism (pp. 2–47). Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Mohanty, C. T. (1993). Defining geneaologies: Feminist reflections on being South Asian in North America. In South Asian Women’s Descent Collective (Eds.), Our feet walk the sky: Women of the South Asian diaspora (pp. 351–358). San Francisco: Aunt Lute Press. Poore, G. (1998). The language of identity. In S. Das Dasgupta (Ed.), A patchwork shawl: Chronicles of South Asian women in America (pp. 21–32). New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Rasiah, D. (1993). Mississippi Masala and Khush: Redefiining community. In South Asian Women’s Descent Collective (Eds.), Our feet walk the sky: Women of the South Asian diaspora (pp. 267–273). San Francisco: Aunt Lute Press. Reddi, R. (2007). Karma and other stories. New York: HarperCollins. Sachs, D. (1992, February). East meets West down South. San Francisco Chronicle Image Magazine, 9, 18. Spivak, G. (1993). Outside the teaching machine. New York: Routledge. Srinivasan, G. (1993). The landscape of a body. In South Asian Women’s Descent Collective (Eds.), Our feet walk the sky: Women of the South Asian diaspora (pp. 287–288). San Francisco: Aunt Lute Press. U. S. Bureau of the Census. (2001). Profiles of the general demographic characteristics: 2000 Census of population and housing. Retrieved November 13, 2006, from http://factfinder/census.gov Visweswaran, K. (1993). Predicaments of the hyphen: In South Asian Women’s Descent Collective (Eds.), Our feet walk the sky: Women of the South Asian diaspora (pp. 301–312). San Francisco: Aunt Lute Press. Yuval-Davis, N. (1992). Fundamentalism, multiculturalism and women in Britain. In D. James & R. Ali (Eds.), Race, culture, and difference (pp. 278–292). Newbury Park, CA: Sage.

22 ACTIVISM IN THE ACADEMY Constructing/Negotiating Feminist Leadership S ALLY A. L LOYD R EBECCA L. WARNER K RISTINE M. B ABER D ONNA L. S OLLIE

O

ur chapter is a reflective conversation among four feminist family studies/ family sociology professors who have held a variety of administrative positions, from chair to director to assistant provost, in their universities. We began the conversation several years ago as we prepared a presentation on feminist academic leadership at the National Council on Family Relations (NCFR) conference in 2002. It has continued on and off over the ensuing years, as we struggled with our roles as positional and nonpositional leaders as well as with trying to write about our deeply felt ambivalence as to whether “being a feminist administrator” is really possible and, if so, what difference it can make. This chapter contains our reflections about the fundamental ambiguities that arise as we live our daily lives as feminists and academic administrators. Throughout, we situate our conversation within the ongoing debates in academia, particularly those that focus on feminist/women’s

292

studies and women themselves. We begin, however, with a definition of feminist praxis.

FEMINIST PRAXIS AND ACADEMIC LEADERSHIP Feminist praxis is a term widely used to denote the translation of feminist theory into practice; this terminology is often integrated into discussions of both feminist activism and feminist politics. Antrobus (2004), Boxer (1998), and Stanley (1990) identify feminist praxis as the integration of identities, commitments, and agendas for action that are grounded in feminist ideals of social change. Antrobus (2004) describes common purposes across women’s movements: “Feminist politics seeks to challenge and change structures that seek to subordinate women, in solidarity with women” (p. 605). Boxer (1998) writes of practicality: “What feminism claims for women is justice and the social

22. Activism in the Academy

changes necessary to make the attainment of justice a practical possibility” (p. 228). Stanley (1990) notes that feminist praxis is “a shared commitment to a political position in which ‘knowledge’ is not simply defined as ‘knowledge what’ but also as ‘knowledge for.’ Succinctly the point is to change the world, not only to study it” (p. 15). Certainly, feminist praxis has been an integral part of women’s movements across time and space; such praxis is embodied in ideologically structured action, connection and multiplicity, and political actions that seek to change patriarchal privilege/control and other forms of oppression (Antrobus, 2004; Mizrahi, 2007). Women’s movements often mobilize explicitly around gendered frames of meaning and social justice, seeking both to understand and dismantle gender divisions and hierarchy and create solidarity around the intersections of gender with other identities (Naples, 2005). Parallel to the discussion of women’s activism are discussions of the place of feminism within the academy, highlighting both the struggles associated with questioning “whose knowledge counts,” as well as the possibilities that feminist scholarship, theory, pedagogy, and practice offer for transforming the very structure of the academy (for excellent reviews, see Boxer, 1998; Lapovsky & Beins, 2005). Indeed, Weigman (2002) emphasizes that the relation of academic feminism to the political cannot remain “institutionally innocent.” She outlines the components of social movements as “critical agency, community organization, rebellious affect, deliberations on institutions and the state” and concludes that these all “live inside the university as legitimate objects of study” (p. 23). We would add that they also serve “as legitimate forms of feminist praxis” within the academy. Kolodny (2000) argues that women’s voices are essential for shaping curriculum and academic policies and for changing the face of higher education administration. She notes that women’s access and voice in shaping higher education have implications not only nationally but also internationally, and she urges feminist faculty members to move into administrative positions in their universities, particularly senior positions. Kolodny argues that feminists in academic administration can make a difference and that feminist models of leadership also

293

can transform what Crumpacker, McMillin, and Navakas (1998) identify as key areas of challenge—hierarchy and homogeneity. We see a confluence between feminist theory and practice that is critical to our work to change the academy from within. Although the feminism that began in the academy as a grassroots effort has been largely institutionalized (Stacey, 2000), we believe that the possibility and necessity of feminist activism from within remains. Here we draw parallels to the work of Katzenstein (1990), whose study of the Catholic Church and the U.S. armed forces revealed a type of feminist activism wherein groups of women establish a presence while “operating outside the arena of conventional politics or social organizing” (p. 53). Katzenstein (1990) elucidates “unobtrusive mobilization” as the newest mode of feminist politics inside such institutions; certainly such activism may be necessary in an organization that fails to materially empower feminist academics (Morley & Walsh, 1995) while also requiring them to address the fears of the majority through accommodation (Kerman, 1995).

VISIONS, TENSIONS, AND OPPORTUNITIES: OUR LIVED EXPERIENCES AS FEMINIST ADMINISTRATORS Being feminists in positions of administrative leadership means embarking on a journey of contradiction and ambivalence that requires negotiating through/around myriad choices as we work to change the academy from within. As our conversation attests, these struggles intertwine the internal and external, exemplified in Threadgold’s (1996) question, How, once the discourses and genres of the other have been embodied, do you set about erasing the voices of the master, and learning to speak your own (women’s/black/aged and so on) bodies, while still remaining credible within the academy? (p. 281)

Our “narrative conversation” developed over time, through face-to-face interaction at NCFR, conference calling, e-mail, and reacting to one another’s writing. We began by translating our conference presentation into a written narrative.

294

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

We then engaged our narratives, reading, conversing, giving feedback, and identifying commonalities. By reflecting on our own, and each others’, experiences in administration as feminist praxis, we hope to identify conceptual schemes organized around specific issues and to envision administration as a path for achieving feminist goals. What follows is a linking together of our narratives into a conversational format that is structured around five themes: Visions of Feminist Leadership; Structural Ambivalence; Strategic Resistance; Voices, Collaboration, and Inclusion; and Relational Opportunities and Challenges. Visions of Feminist Leadership Becky: When we first got together almost 5 years ago, I recall that we all admitted to taking administrative, or leadership, positions because we believed we could make a difference. As feminists, we are committed to promoting equity and challenging those structures that serve to marginalize and oppress. Our concerns were not only for women. However, we understand that feminist leaders draw on their specific understandings of women’s marginalization to help eliminate conditions under which any group can be marginalized (Nickel & Eikenberry, 2006). We entered our administrative positions with great hope. Donna: In addition to feeling that we could make a difference, leadership opportunities provided an avenue for working with other engaged people who shared our vision of social change and a commitment to facilitating that change. Certainly the broadest vision of social change is one that is driven by the need to create a world that is equitable—one that values women and men equally and offers men and women the same opportunities. Working directly with women’s issues, whether in my role as Director of the Women’s Studies Program, or as Assistant Provost for Women’s Initiatives, has provided opportunities to effect change on the immediate surrounding environment—the academic world. And it is hoped that the changes that come about in that environment have reverberating effects. The thought of being involved in helping create an exciting, invigorating academic community was very appealing. Kristine: Becky and Donna’s comments remind me of our earlier conversations about feminist administration and how we struggled with the question of whether feminist leadership is an

oxymoron. I believe that feminist leadership is both possible and necessary if we are to have women as full and equal partners in academic communities. I, also, began administrative work with a sense of responsibility and optimism about facilitating change. I did not foresee, however, the challenges involved in navigating the tensions among being a woman in a leadership position, a feminist who is an administrator, and an administrator attempting to provide feminist leadership. Sally: I really resonate with Kristine’s emphasis on tensions and challenges. For me, even writing my reflections was a challenge, and it took me a very long time to decide what to write about. As I have read scholarship on women’s leadership (particularly work that is feminist, relational, spiritual), I’ve found work that beautifully gives voice to the deep feelings of both agency and frustration that I experience nearly every day as I try to put my feminist ideals into practice. Why then did it take me so long to find a way to put my thoughts into writing? I think because I was afraid to lay bare the depth of my ambivalence about being in positions of leadership, as well as my fears of never being able to simultaneously live up to the demands of feminism and the demands of the job. For me, being a feminist leader means never being comfortable with or complacent or certain about one’s work. Being a feminist and an administrator is an intersection replete with internal as well as external struggles. Donna: Over the years, as the four of us talked about our experiences, the similarities were striking. Sally’s depiction of her ongoing challenges and frustrations reflect the high bar we set for ourselves as we try to live up to our vision of what it means to be a feminist and to be an administrator—and as we continue to discover exactly what being a feminist leader means to us. I have been inspired by Fine and Buzzanell’s (2000) re-visioning of feminist leadership as service that challenges the gendered organizational beliefs of institutions. They “envision serving as a form of resistance that operates through dialectic processes to creatively incorporate the multiple commitments to self, others, community, and principles so that we serve ourselves with and through our connections with others” (p. 152). This statement captures the essence of what I want my role as a feminist administrator to be—creative, connected, focused on the communities within and outside the university, and always committed to change—as well as what is most exciting about being a feminist administrator. Rao and

22. Activism in the Academy Kelleher’s (2000) conceptualization of power as relational and unlimited also emphasizes the centrality of our connections with others and the essential role of these interpersonal relationships in bringing about change. They note that “part of the wonder of the conception of power as relational and unlimited is its potential to transform relationships, and, ultimately, human organizations and institutions” (p. 77). In order to transform our institutions, they emphasize that we must continually work to transform ourselves, suggesting that feminist leadership offers opportunities for self-growth as we work toward institutional change. Kristine: I believe that these discussions can provide strategies for maintaining our vision of feminist leadership and developing methods of resistance consistent with our own professional identities. Rao and Kelleher (2000) talk about transformational leadership skills as “questioning existing ways of working, and considering how tasks might be done differently if the primary motivation is a concern for equality and justice” (p. 76). In my feminist leadership, I seek to be transformational in both purpose and process (Chin, 2004; Eagly, 2007; Yoder, 2001). In process, I attempt to be collaborative, relational, nurturing, and obstacle clearing. In purpose, I try to be visionary, change oriented, and focused on equality and social justice. Sally: Something that I have had to sort out is why, given my ambivalences, have I served as an administrator for most of the past 18 years? Why, even when I have gleefully gone back to faculty status, have I agreed to take on yet another administrative position when urged to do so? Ultimately, I have come to realize that I am willing to live, as Jackson (1999) puts it, “in the swamp”—with trepidation, with the uncertainties and ambivalences—for along with the contradictions, there are also moments of deep satisfaction.

Structural Ambivalence Becky: I am not at all surprised to hear the simultaneous expressions of satisfaction along with feelings of ambivalence in Sally’s comments. For many of us, a major reason driving these concurrent experiences is that we are/were also in positions of structural ambivalence. Structural ambivalence is understood as “contradictory normative expectations that occur in institutional resources and requirements (statuses, roles, and norms)” (Connidis & McMullin, 2002, pp. 558–559). As a department chair I was asked to

295

work with/for groups holding potentially conflicting interests. Here are the first two sentences of my position description: “The Chair is a member of the faculty and an officer of administration. In this dual capacity, she is responsible to the faculty, to the Dean of the College, and to central administration.” The first part was very consistent with my interest in serving as a department chair: being a member of the faculty. I saw myself as facilitating conversations about what we wanted for ourselves and our students, and as chair I would help coordinate the activities and advocate on behalf of the department to secure resources to make them happen. Coming from a feminist perspective, I was interested in collaboration and inclusivity in departmental decision making and in rejecting any leader/follower divide. Feminist leaders create democratic spaces so that the power to change is a “power-with” others rather than “power-over” others. At the same time, I was an officer of administration, responsible to the dean and others. While I was not quite sure what this meant, I came to learn that I needed to be a responsible “manager” of budget and personnel and to work in order to advance the university’s mission and strategic goals. In good times (awarding merit increases) and bad (distributing budget cuts), I found that the decisions I wanted to make might not please both groups. Negotiating out of this position of structural ambivalence was an ongoing challenge. Kristine: Becky’s discussion of her challenges reminds me of Blount’s (1994) distinction between administration and leadership. Blount notes that administrators are appointed by the persons to whom they later have to account, and that they tend to serve as functionaries who are expected to preserve hierarchical structures. Leadership, on the other hand, implies intentional, context-based connections— maintaining caring, trusting, constant relationships with those who choose to follow. Department chairs are administrators accountable to university deans, provosts, and presidents. As chair I also felt accountable to faculty, staff, and students in the department. These multiple, sometimes conflicting, demands challenged me as I tried to respond in responsible, equitable ways consistent with my own feminist beliefs. In reality, I believe that there was little interest in my feminist politics/praxis by either the administration or the department. All parties, however, wanted an administrator who was an “effective” leader, which meant totally different things to each constituency.

296

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

Donna: The discussion in this section reflects the issues of hierarchy, power, and status that we all faced as we assumed administrative roles. Though we were (and are) guided by our feminist principles that emphasize equality, we often found that our administrative positions carried a certain status and connotation of individual power that was contradictory to our feminist convictions. Rao and Kelleher’s (2000) view of power as coming from all locations and positions is instructive. They encourage the use of power that comes from “having a clear purpose, enough information, and a good relationship with others” (p. 77). This is the kind of power that I strive to promote, with the goal of breaking down the hierarchies and homogeneity that Crumpacker and colleagues (1998) identify as key areas of challenge for transforming academia. Establishing relationships and alliances that challenge hierarchies and homogeneity is empowering, and these alliances are invaluable in creating support for issues as well as building broader communities in the university. Sally: As a feminist administrator, I have always felt a sense of ambivalent empowerment (the ambivalence being my own as well as the university’s). I think too often what the organization seeks from us is our “visibility” as female leaders; as Kristine noted, our feminist visions are not necessarily understood or lauded. And our willingness to confront, to be even sassy at times, is not always very welcomed. Kristine: A challenge of being a woman “doing feminist leadership” is that you are simultaneously “doing gender” in an inherently biased institution. You are expected to play not only by the administrative rules but also by the gender rules. Eagly’s (2007) review of the advantages and disadvantages of female leadership identified cross pressures I felt in dealing with expectations for me as a woman to be kind, warm, and gentle and as a leader to be agentic, directive, and assertive. One female faculty member observed, “We want you to provide leadership and help us move forward, but we resist you when you try to do it.” Sally: Another way I experience this structural ambivalence is through the process of “selfsilencing.” Skrla, Scott, and Benestante (2001) write about this as the internalized construction women leaders experience as they are consistently told that they are out of place. Balen (2005) notes that self-silencing increases higher up the academic ladder as part of the interplay of privileges and oppressions. Despite my years of experience, I still reflect daily (and often

ruthlessly) on whether I have said too much and/or too little. And yet I love the way that Butler (1990, p. vii) puts it: “Gender trouble is inevitable and the task is how best to make it and what best way to be in it.” Being strategic is all about deciding what is the best trouble to be in, and for me, this also means undoing my self-silencing.

Strategic Resistance Sally: The concept of strategic resistance goes beyond “choosing one’s battles” to encompass understanding the dissonance that exists between “what is doable and what is desirable” (Blackmore, 1999, p. 209). Blackmore elaborates on “tactical” feminism: “working for gender equity everyday . . . [and recognizing] that desired social change will not evolve if there is no immanent practical possibility for change” (p. 210). Fine and Buzzanell (2000) speak of “revolutionary pragmatism,” a blend of commitment to fundamental social change and work to change everyday practices. Yet Blackmore (1999) also cautions against focusing exclusively on the doable, to the peril of failing to address structural change. I take her caution seriously, as I find myself attending to all the practical details while trying to keep the “revolution” at the forefront (all this occurs in a context, of course, where practical tinkering is rewarded while revolutionary change is actively resisted). Kristine: I agree with Sally that strategic resistance is critical. The “daily pressures to play the game by the rules” (Rao & Kelleher, 2000) can be overwhelming. As a department chair, resisting these pressures felt risky, whether the pressures were from the dean wanting me to persuade a faculty member to increase class size or from faculty members wanting me to “make” a colleague be a more responsible committee member. As an administrator aspiring to feminist leadership, I am frequently “interested in changing the rules of the game, not playing by them” (p. 74). My experience, however, convinced me that in academe, you have to play by the rules even as you work to change them. As chair, I felt constantly aware that I represented the department and not just myself. Now as a center director, I may represent the college or even the whole university. I feel comfortable working to change rules or to draw attention to inequities, but I sometimes feel constrained in strategies I might use to resist prevailing norms and power arrangements because of potential consequences for the department.

22. Activism in the Academy As one who resists hierarchical power structures, I was struck by a colleague’s comment that I was beginning to talk like an administrator. There is real tension here for me and for other feminist leaders. Martin (2000) warned of the risks of learning to speak academese. If we refuse to learn the language, we guarantee our status as an outsider—our voices will not be heard, or if heard, not attended to. But learning to speak the new tongue changes our cognitive landscape, and we risk distancing ourselves from our colleagues and letting the institution guide our agenda. Becky: Kristine makes a great point here about language. It reminds me of the T-shirts we sold as a fundraiser for the NCFR Feminism and Family Studies section anniversary celebration—“I speak fluent patriarchy but it’s not my mother tongue.” While we must know the language, we need to look for ways to change it, and a feminist perspective can guide us. Feminist theory has changed quite a bit over time, but from its outset it has been critical of the master narratives of the environments in which we live. Feminists challenge narratives in academic research (Hesse-Biber & Piatelli, 2007; Stanley, 1990) as well as in organizational management and administration (Ferguson, 1984). Feminist scholars have deconstructed the discourses of research and administration to reveal the ways in which they are gendered— that is, developed (primarily) by men in ways that help maintain male privilege. For example, we often hear that administrators are chosen on the basis of “merit.” Blackmore (2006) argues that “merit” is not a neutral concept, but one that “has historically been constructed through the eyes of middle-class males in ways that suited their interests and conditions of work and family life” and one that was “distanced from the messiness of daily life in which women’s voices were thus subjugated” (p. 189). By using men’s patterns of work and family life to establish a universal definition of merit, women have found it difficult to attain the same level of success in administration. Feminist theories are also helpful, as they are not only deconstructive but have the power to be reconstructive as well (Nickel & Eikenberry, 2006). Leadership, management, and administration are shifting and situational in meaning. When faced with situations of ambivalence, we can negotiate our way out by rewriting the narrative. In what has become an important feminist critique of bureaucracy, Ferguson (1984) says, Ultimately, we can speak no more than our language allows us to speak, and can see and

297

know no more than our social context allows us to experience . . . to alter the terms of public discourse one must change the experiences people have, and to restructure experiences one must change the language available for making sense of those experiences. (p. 154) Sally: Another part of strategic resistance is also resisting how we are constructed as leaders. One of the conundrums of being a female administrator is being viewed as the “heroic other.” This means being held up as the shining example of the “good woman” in the organization (Blackmore, 1999), a practice that is just a ruse for saying, “See, she did it, we really are an equitable organization.” Such heroism, coupled with the “compulsory individualism” of academia (Keating, cited in Licona & Rowe, 2005) must be constantly resisted, particularly those aspects that seek to have the accomplishments of a group of dedicated people attributed to one person who just happens to have the visibility of positional authority.

Voice, Collaboration, and Inclusion Sally: In addition to finding points of strategic resistance, being a feminist administrator also provides the opportunity both to find and to give voice. This opportunity occurred in my very first administrative position. I very naively came into a group that had a long history of hostility and power plays. Coming in from the outside, I first had to understand the dynamics of the situation (frankly, I was rather shocked at what I had walked into); plus I was hampered by my inexperience and an innocent notion of the importance of leader “neutrality.” The bottom line was that the majority of the women in the department had been silenced by those who held power (both positional and nonpositional) in the organization. I remember very clearly the moment when I consciously stepped out of my crazy notion of neutrality and “took sides” as I tried to create a safe haven for the voices/actions of the disenfranchised. Throughout this experience, I had to find my own voice as a feminist leader, as well as find ways to empower those who had been marginalized. Skrla et al. (2001, p. 123) write of the “socialized silences and myths” that characterize our organizations: the ways that dominant perceptions of competence and beliefs in meritocracy remain unquestioned, as well as the ways that sexism/racism/ heterosexism go unnoticed and unaddressed unless they are thoroughly blatant. For me, one of the most important parts of being a feminist

298

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

leader is to use my positional voice, and strategies of collaboration, to empower others, to challenge both subtle and blatant aggressions, and to invite a reconsideration of practices that reify and reinforce hierarchy. Kristine: Sally’s point about finding and giving voice is critical. A continuing challenge for me as a chair was representing the diverse academic and social philosophies of departmental faculty without abandoning the political aspect of being a feminist. The chair often becomes the voice and face of the department. This means that one has the opportunity to act proactively to set the tone for departmental discourse, relationships with students, collaboration with other units on campus, departmental/community/state connections, and the activities and causes that the department formally supports. The chair can be influential in setting or changing the climate in the department by stances taken in regard to problem solving, issues attended to, decisions about hiring, and advocacy for process and reflexivity. I try to act as an agent of change and to be visionary, rather than just being focused on getting things done (Chin, 2004). As chair, I tried to do this in a collaborative way so that there was consensus about issues such as diversity, social justice, and advocacy from which I could more comfortably provide leadership. This helped me feel as though I was fairly representing my department to the outside world without compromising my own positions. Becky: One of the ways in which I tried to facilitate an inclusive and collaborative environment was to make departmental processes transparent. For example, each faculty member has a position description that lays out the distribution of effort given to scholarship, teaching, and service. While the percentage of distribution of effort is the same within rank (e.g., tenured professors are 40% teaching, 40% scholarship, 20% service), there is considerable room for deciding what are appropriate activities within each area. While our faculty handbook notes that position descriptions are written by the chair (in conversation with an individual faculty member), we opted to have a joint discussion and create the descriptions from shared understandings of what we could/should do as faculty members. The process allowed us to uncover some areas of potential inequities in service and teaching assignments. We asked ourselves about “who benefits” from our current organization of work? Are women and faculty of color more likely to be asked (expected) to do campuswide service? Are some faculty sought

out more by students for mentoring? If so, why? Are some faculty members carrying a larger student credit-hour load than others? We (or I) found this to be an extraordinarily enlightening conversation. It gave us the chance to uncover the way things are (and the inequities), but more important, because we could write our position descriptions, we had the chance to envision how it might otherwise be (Nickel & Eikenberry, 2006). It was not done in a top-down process. Rather, it was in an open dialogue where all voices could be heard and a more just environment could be created. Donna: All four of us share a commitment to using our positions to empower and engage others. One of my goals when I first became the Special Advisor to the Provost on Women’s Advancement was to bring more voices to the table, particularly people who would not identify themselves as feminists but who were concerned with addressing specific issues related to women faculty. I formed an advisory committee that represented all academic units on campus, including men, as well as a mix of administrators and faculty members and people who had not been directly involved in women’s issues on campus. Because I had an established reputation on our campus, through a number of years of working with people in my previous administrative position as Director of the Women’s Studies Program, I was able to form this group, which included people whom I had not worked with previously. Members of this committee formed small, task-specific working groups, bringing in additional voices, so we were able to increase the perspectives as well as the “buy in” to the issues. Forming this visible committee in this deliberative manner was in many ways an act of “revolutionary pragmatism” that Sally mentions above. Forming this advisory group is also an example of applying the “small wins” approach to altering ongoing practices that reflect gender bias by focusing on “fixing the organization, not the women who work for it” (Meyerson & Fletcher, 2000, p. 136). I know that the composition of this particular committee gave an added weight to the recommendations sent forward from the group to the Provost. Just as important, the group was a source of new working relationships at the university and was energizing on both individual and group levels. I have also appreciated the opportunity to work with staff members across a variety of positions, from professional and administrative staff to staff who work in facilities, whom I would not have known or worked with in my faculty role. These opportunities and the

22. Activism in the Academy relationships that I have formed have provided an avenue for understanding and addressing impacts of gender inequities that our nonfaculty colleagues experience.

Relational Opportunities and Challenges Kristine: Relationships sustain me and allow me to be more successful in administration. One of my friends, also a feminist, was chair of a large department on campus and began serving as chair several years before me. Her mentoring, along with that of others with whom I consulted, helped me survive a variety of challenges. However, there were relational losses at both the personal and professional level as the result of moving into an administrative role. The prevailing model at our university is a rotating chairship; one moves from the faculty into the chair position, serves a minimum of 3 years, and returns to the faculty at the end of one’s service. Regardless of how collaborative one’s leadership style and how consensual the process of decision making, there is still a status difference between faculty and chair. The chair reads confidential records, receives important information prior to it being made public, controls the flow of information into and from the department, makes final budgetary decisions, writes evaluation letters, and provides independent recommendations regarding promotion and tenure decisions. Relational boundaries begin to shift as soon as one becomes chair. Although demands of the chair position left little time for socializing during the day, I found that I was hesitant to spend informal time with friends in the department to avoid any perception of favoritism by other faculty. Many of the hardest decisions I had to make and the most challenging situations I encountered— usually personnel issues—needed to be faced without the consultation of those I had been closest to in the past. The result was a creeping isolation. The irony, of course, is that after one serves as chair, you may return to faculty status and again have to renegotiate relationships. Donna: When I took my first administrative position, as Director of the Women’s Studies Program, I was not prepared for the loss of part of my identity as a faculty member. Even though the position was part-time, adding the administrative role resulted in a profound change not only in identity but also in the changed relationships with my departmental colleagues. I simply was not a part of the daily departmental life as I once had been—and that led to feelings

299

of being an outsider. I was excited about the opportunities that the position offered, and I found it very appealing and rewarding to work with colleagues across the university who shared a commitment to women’s issues and to being change agents at our university. But it was quite challenging to balance the needs and expectations of my two roles as faculty member and administrator. I was both an outsider and an insider, not wholly part of either of these two worlds, which can be alienating. This remains a challenge for me as I continue to hold both faculty and administrative positions. Sally: One of the best things about having been in leadership positions for a while has been the opportunity to get to work with colleagues all over campus who share common visions. Naples (2005) writes of the strength of women’s networks as “powerful resources for promoting resistance strategies, especially for those most marginalized” (p. 231). The strength of collaborative action is not only a prime strategy of resistance, it is also what keeps me going on a personal level given the isolation that I have found to be inherent in being an administrator. I absolutely treasure my co-mentoring relationships with trusted colleagues; we get together, close the door, express our deepest concerns and fears, strategize, support one another, laugh and cry, and reaffirm our commitment to social justice. Indeed, I could not have remained an administrator without them. I would like to share one example of such “action in connection.” While I was serving as Director of Women’s Studies (WMS), the Director of Black World Studies (BWS) and I made a commitment to mutually resist all efforts to pit our programs, and women and people of color, against one another. Our two programs worked together strategically, successfully applying for a new joint position (a full professor in WMS and BWS), writing an unofficial report on the status of women and multicultural faculty (a report that has been issued by the Provost’s office every year since), and standing together against hate speech and hate crimes. Donna: I think it is important to acknowledge that our successes in changing our institutions are a matter of commitment and collaboration, of persistence and timing. I have been at my current university for more than 20 years, and throughout that time, I have consistently been involved in women’s issues in one form or another—in my classes on gender and sexuality, as WMS Director, as a member of the women’s caucus, as Director of

300

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

the Women’s Resource Center, and in my current position as Assistant Provost for Women’s Initiatives. As we look at the status of women in academia, we focus on the challenges before us and the work yet to be done and may feel disheartened. We may feel that the changes are too few, too small, and perhaps not lasting. It is imperative that we also acknowledge our accomplishments and recognize the impact that we have had on the curriculum, in faculty members’ careers, or on the climate at the university. Sally’s description of her experience in working collaboratively with her colleague in Black World Studies is an example of how our efforts can have significant and reverberating impacts on our institutions—by enhancing the learning experiences of our students, by facilitating faculty advancement, and by modeling feminist leadership that is visionary, collaborative, positive, and change oriented. Over time, our collaborative efforts with our feminist colleagues do lead to changes that result in transformed institutions. Becky: We could not agree more on the value of our extensive networks of feminist friends across campus. Returning to the issue of position descriptions I raised earlier, I found that while we were talking locally about what it means to be a professor of sociology, others were holding similar discussions in their units. Not surprisingly, some themes emerged regarding the gendered evaluation of position descriptions. Several groups brought up a feminist critique of the “neutrality” of current guidelines and called on units to unpack the meanings of “research” and “scholarship” and to explore ways to truly value “service.” The discussions in my department were supported by college and university dialogue. I am fortunate to be at a university with a long-standing Women Studies program (we just celebrated our 35th anniversary), a nationally recognized Difference, Power, and Discrimination program, an active Association of Faculty for the Advancement of People of Color, and a newly established Women’s Advancement and Gender Equity directorship (similar to Donna’s position). This means that I never have to stand alone in the trenches when bringing a feminist lens to university-wide conversations.

Final Reflections Donna: Leadership is ultimately focused on change—on possibility—on vision. The processes that have resulted in this chapter have been personally rewarding—talking with my coauthors

and reading their contributions, reading about leadership, and taking the time to reflect about the questions that we have addressed about feminist leadership. I hope that our readers also find it rewarding to reflect on how their feminist views have influenced and enriched their lives as well as the lives of others. As I read various perspectives on leadership, I was inspired by the view of leadership as service—service that can ultimately result in a world where social justice prevails. I think that the work we do as feminist leaders, in small ways and occasionally in large ways, matters and makes a difference. And although the work is challenging and sometimes overwhelming, the ultimate satisfactions outweigh the difficulties. Collectively, as we raise our feminist voices, and join with others, we will move ever closer to realizing our feminist visions. And, finally, it is critically important that we all acknowledge and celebrate what we, as feminists, have accomplished. We, with our feminist colleagues across the nation, are part of the ongoing process of transforming the academy. Becky: As we come to the end of our conversation, I feel energized. We shared our frustrations and challenges and yet spoke of how our collaboration with others brought about positive change in our units and institutions. I believe that we have been successful, in large part, because of our commitment to feminist praxis and our awareness about the variety of ways to enact it. Being part of large feminist networks helps sustain us as we take on the continuing work for social justice in the academy. How can we, for example, move women and faculty of color through the academic ranks in a timely manner when they are still disproportionately called on to engage in the most time-consuming service? How can we provide a tenure clock that supports faculty caring for family (children or parents)? The conversation we’ve had in these pages convinces me that it will take feminist leadership to adequately address these concerns. Whether we work as administrators or colleagues, we (as feminists) are compelled to work together to eliminate conditions that marginalize any group among us. Kristine: Feminist administration offers the possibility of putting our feminist values into practice, using whatever privilege we might have to identify and address inequity and other biases; to be proactive in developing and implementing a vision of a caring, supportive institution; and to ensure that everyone’s voices are heard in the process. Being successful in these efforts demands

22. Activism in the Academy an intricate dance with multiple partners, not all of whom are moving to the same music. We need to be nimble and courageous, guided by the power of our convictions to strategically take action when necessary. Moving forward may require unobtrusive mobilization at times, but I believe that the promise for the future lies in structural changes that are as transparent and intentional as possible. This collaboration with my colleagues has provided a wonderful opportunity for me to further reflect on my beliefs about feminist leadership and my experiences as a feminist administrator. I strongly recommend to other feminists considering embarking on an administrative adventure that they seek out feminist administrators for discussions such as these to help them navigate the challenges and maximize their potential power as feminist leaders. Sally: Being a feminist leader is all about being comfortable with contradiction, with the structurally ambivalent position within which we engage our feminist ideals and practices. Given this embeddedness, I often find myself questioning whether structural change is even on the horizon. Many days I have to say that it surely feels impossible. Yet there is still much joy to be found in this work. I revel in each conversation that connects us to the core of each other. I adore the opportunity to bring intersections of gender, race, sexuality, age, ability, and social justice to the table. I dance every time we confront bad behavior, empower those who have been silenced, find/give voice, or infuse practices of intersectionality and cultural proficiency into our organization. And although my rock hammer is tiny and Gibraltar massive, when I step back and reflect, I can see how through collaboration and empowerment we have chipped away and started to move the mountain. This is how I keep my feminist hope alive.

OUR FEMINIST PRAXIS Before we were “feminist administrators,” we were feminist scholars and teachers. No matter what our position in the academy, we are interested in doing work that challenges the master narratives that benefit some over others, enacts our feminist visions of justice and equity, and brings about structural change. We are not only concerned for women and people of color who are the “subjects/participants” in our teaching and research, we also care deeply about those

301

with whom we collaborate, as faculty members, as administrators, and as leaders. What we’ve tried to do in this chapter is to explore the ways in which we’ve approached feminist administration and leadership. There are two key messages we would like to leave with our readers. First, while we entered our administrative positions with “optimism,” “hope,” and “excitement,” we also were quite “naive.” Almost immediately, we encountered situations of incongruity and ambivalence. At almost every turn, we questioned our work and whether it made a difference. It is, however, this very ambiguity that fuels our desire to keep going. Feminist theory (with its emphasis on the both/and, on constructing agency in a context of constraint) not only alerts us to contradictions and complexities but also assists us in negotiating our way through and around them. Thus, while being feminist leaders in institutions that actually desire “traditional administrators” created a multiplicity of tensions, being feminist leaders simultaneously helped us work through these experiences of ambivalence. The individual and structural power of feminist theorizing is that it involves, in equal parts, a critique of the master narratives that can oppress and a reconstruction project to create more equitable environments (Nickel & Eikenberry, 2006). Understanding that organizational narratives are social constructions means that we can rewrite them. Second, there is a powerful theme throughout our narratives, of care, connection, and democratic practice. We have only been successful in enacting feminist praxis because we work in collaboration and solidarity with those who share our vision of justice across the university. Such connections are critical for dealing not only with the isolation and difficulties of our jobs but also in bringing about systemic change. Such alliances have, over the last several decades, fueled the growth of women’s studies and race/ethnic studies programs, inclusion in the core curriculum of coursework that explores diversity, discrimination, and privilege, and, more recently, creation of senior-level administrative positions to advance gender equity. Together, our voices and actions have led to significant changes. We do have a final word of warning. We must heed Balen’s (2005) caution about the power

302

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

and privilege attached to our positions of leadership. She notes, There is no subject position fully “outside” the system; only provisional opportunities for resistance within specific contexts exist. No one is free of the operations of oppression— internalized and/or externalized—and, therefore, each of us inevitably reproduces oppression in every moment that we are not actively resisting on every level. (p. 281)

We must take great care to always question “at whose cost we enjoy the privilege” (p. 278) of our positions of leadership. Is Balen’s a hopeless view? We think not. Rather, it is part of the dialectic of being a “feminist administrator.” We must keep at the forefront of our awareness that we are simultaneously critiquing and supporting the hegemonies of the university and our disciplines. The trick is not to ignore these conundrums but, instead, to acknowledge our dual positions as powerful/privileged and constrained/ oppressed. We must not allow our self-reflexivity about our failures to live up to the demands of our feminist ideals to be immobilizing; we must instead turn our reflexivity to deeper understandings of how to work relationally and democratically to effect change from within. We must acknowledge our complicity with what is, while maintaining fervent desires and strategies to move to what can be. Some of us have left administration, while others continue. Regardless of our positions, we maintain our commitment to feminist praxis. We do so a bit less naively. While we recognize that explicit use of the term feminist may be losing its political cache in some circles, we nevertheless will continually rewrite feminism to work for social justice. Even with our doubts, we believe that feminist leadership is not only a possibility, it is a fundamental necessity.

REFERENCES Antrobus, P. (2004). The global women’s movement: Origins, issues and strategies. New York: Zed Books. Balen, J. (2005). Practicing what we teach. In E. Kennedy & A. Beins (Eds.), Women’s studies for the future: Foundations, interrogations, politics (pp. 272–284). New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Blackmore, J. (1999). Troubling women: Feminism, leadership and educational change. Philadelphia: Open University Press.

Blackmore, J. (2006). Social justice and the study and practice of leadership in education: A feminist history. Journal of Educational Administration and History, 38, 185–200. Blount, J. M. (1994). One postmodern feminist perspective on educational leadership: And ain’t I a leader? In S. J. Maxcy (Ed.), Postmodern school leadership: Meeting the crisis in educational administration (pp. 47–59). Westport, CT: Praeger. Boxer, M. J. (1998). When women ask the questions: Creating women’s studies in America. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press. Butler, J. (1990). Gender trouble: Feminism and the subversion of identity. New York: Routledge. Chin, J. L. (2004). Feminist leadership: Feminist visions and diverse voices. Psychology of Women Quarterly, 28, 1–8. Connidis, I. A., & McMullin, J. A. (2002). Sociological ambivalence and family ties: A critical perspective. Journal of Marriage and Family, 64, 558–567. Crumpacker, L., McMillin, L., & Navakas, F. (1998). Transforming the university: Feminist musings on pragmatic liberal education. Liberal Education, 84, 32–39. Eagly, A. H. (2007). Female leadership advantage and disadvantage: Resolving the contradictions. Psychology of Women Quarterly, 31, 1–12. Ferguson, K. E. (1984). The feminist case against bureaucracy. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Fine, M. G., & Buzzanell, P. M. (2000). Walking the high wire: Leadership theorizing, daily acts and tensions. In P. M. Buzzanell (Ed.), Rethinking organizational and managerial communication from feminist perspectives (pp. 128–156). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Hesse-Biber, S. N., & Piatelli, D. (2007). From theory to method and back again: The synergistic praxis of theory and method. In S. N. Hesse-Biber (Ed.), Handbook of feminist research: Theory and praxis (pp. 143–154). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Jackson, D. (1999). Thoughtful practice: Responding with questions from the superintendency. In C. C. Brunner (Ed.), Sacred dreams: Women and the superintendency (pp. 217–219). Albany: State University of New York Press. Katzenstein, M. F. (1990). Feminism within American institutions: Unobtrusive mobilization in the 1980s. Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society, 16, 27–54. Kerman, L. (1995). The good witch: Advice to women in management. In L. Morley & V. Walsh (Eds.), Feminist academics: Creative agents for change (pp. 131–144). London: Taylor & Francis. Kolodny, A. (2000). Women and higher education in the 21st century: Some feminist and global perspectives. National Women’s Studies Association Journal, 12, 130–147. Lapovsky, E. K., & Beins, A. (2005). Women’s studies for the future. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Licona, A. C., & Rowe, A. C. (2005). After words: Feminist praxis as a bridge between theory and practice. National Women’s Studies Association Journal, 17, 130–135. Martin, J. M. (2000). Coming of age in academe: Rekindling women’s hopes and reforming the academy. New York: Routledge. Meyerson, D. E., & Fletcher, J. K. (2000). A modest manifesto for shattering the glass ceiling. Harvard Business Review, 78(1), 127–136. Mizrahi, T. (2007). Women’s ways of organizing: Strengths and struggles of women activists over time. Affilia: Journal of Women and Social Work, 22, 39–55. Morley, L., & Walsh, V. (1995). Introduction. In L. Morley & V. Walsh (Eds.), Feminist academics: Creative agents for change (pp. 1–6). London: Taylor & Francis. Naples, N. A. (2005). Confronting the future, learning from the past: Feminist praxis in the 21st century. In J. Reger (Ed.), Different wavelengths (pp. 215–236). New York: Routledge. Nickel, P. N., & Eikenberry, A. M. (2006). Beyond public vs. private: The transformative potential of democratic feminist management. Administrative Theory & Praxis, 28, 359–380.

22. Activism in the Academy Rao, A., & Kelleher, D. (2000). Leadership for social transformation: Some ideas and questions on institutions and feminist leadership. In C. Sweetman (Ed.), Women and leadership (pp. 74–79). Oxford, UK: Oxfam Great Britain. Skrla, L., Scott, J., & Benestante, J. J. (2001). Dangerous intersections: A meta-ethnographic study of gender, power, and politics in the public school superintendency. New Superintendency, 6, 115–131. Stacey, J. (2000). Is academic feminism an oxymoron? Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society, 25, 1189–1194.

303

Stanley, L. (Ed.). (1990). Feminist praxis: Research, theory and epistemology in feminist sociology. London: Routledge. Threadgold, T. (1996). Everyday life in the academy: Postmodernist feminisms, generic seductions, rewriting and being heard. In C. Luke (Ed.), Feminisms and pedagogies of everyday life (pp. 280–314). Albany: State University of New York Press. Weigman, R. (2002). Academic feminism against itself. National Women’s Studies Association Journal, 14, 18–37. Yoder, J. D. (2001). Making leadership work more effectively for women. Journal of Social Issues, 57, 815–828.

23 GROUP- VERSUS INDIVIDUAL-BASED INTERSECTIONALITY AND PRAXIS IN FEMINIST AND WOMYNIST RESEARCH FOUNDATIONS E DITH A. L EWIS

T

his chapter addresses relationships among constructs that appear repeatedly in this book; constructs that include feminism, womynism, intersectionality, standpoint, praxis, and activism. Using a case narrative, I will illustrate how feminist scholarship in the United States— despite the best intentions—continues to treat women as a homogeneous group, evaluating scholarship about women as unidimensional while ignoring the authors’ social, political, and herstorical contexts. In an effort to embody the social, herstorical, and political experiences of almost three decades of womynist work in higher education, I have four goals for this chapter: 1. To provide a framework whose endpoints are neofeminist/traditionalist and feminist/womynist for understanding differences in activist behaviors and choices in feminist scholarship and research 2. To examine relationships among intersectionality, agency, and activism for women in faculty positions and how these relate to feminism/womynism and neofeminism 304

3. To explore how the construct of praxis illuminates the activist choices made by women in the academy in the past and today 4. To address why activism is needed now in family studies and research

In order to clarify my own intentionality, I first describe my background and experience over the last 28 years. When I began writing this chapter, I was in mourning for eight women of color faculty colleagues around the United States who had been denied promotion and tenure. Some of those faculty colleagues had been participants in data I had collected about their experiences on campuses. Others were women I had mentored. In some of the cases, I had served as an external reviewer for their applications for promotion with tenure. Before I completed the revision of this chapter, four more women of color on my own campus were denied promotion and/or contract renewal. More than once, critiques of these women’s work included discomfort about the level of

23. Praxis in Feminist and Womynist Research

“activism” perceived in their research, theory building, and writing. These numbers may seem small; however, when considered with respect to the fact that women of color have not comprised more than 4% of the total faculty in institutions of higher education, these are significant losses. Reflecting on the goals of the chapter and my personal experiences, I argue that individual versus group orientation is an important influence on intersectionality and the degree of praxis-related activism of women scholars. Simply stated, some of us have been socialized from our youth with the idea that “I am because we are.” Our group identities are, therefore, significant components of our individual identities and the ways they manifest themselves in our personal and professional lives. Conversely, others of us have been socialized to focus on our individuality and uniqueness from all other beings. For the purposes of clarity, the first group will be discussed here as holding primarily a group orientation, while the second cohort will be described as holding an individual orientation. Examples of group orientation include Sojourner Truth and Audre Lorde’s indictments of women’s movements as excluding them as contextualized participants—that is, ignoring their collective identities as women of color who are tied to men of color and communities of color with shared political, social, and herstorical experiences superseding those of simple womanhood (Gutiérrez & Lewis, 1999). The two groups represent endpoints of a continuum of behaviors and statuses operating in the lives of women rather than a simple dichotomy. Intersectionality and agency can stem from both group and individual orientations. Those from a group orientation, however, are more likely to continue to engage in overt activism on behalf of that group and others even as they work in an academic community (Collins, 2000; Gutiérrez & Lewis, 1999; Okazawa-Rey, 2002; Washington, 2006). In doing so, these more group-oriented or integrative feminists recognize the necessity of placing their work in historical, political, and social contexts while viewing those with whom they work as parts of familial, group, and community contexts (DeFilippis, 2001). These feminists contrast with those by whom the feminist label is individually adopted and then adapted to meet the individualist’s own personal circumstances and subsequent research interests (Crenshaw, 1995; Gross, 1998; Harlow, 2003). In both cases, the

305

scholars may correctly call themselves feminist; it is, however, a feminism born out of vastly different socializing experiences, worldviews, and enacted strategies (Actionaid, 2001a; Collins, 2000; Freire, 1989; Osmond & Thorne, 1993; Zhang, 2004). I will show that the recognition of one’s own group-based intersectionality and praxis (i.e., analysis combined with action, which is discussed in more detail later in the chapter) affects the choices made by activist integrative feminist or womynist scholars (Dolphyne & OfeiAgoagye, 2001; McKay & Rozee, 2004; Saulnier & Wheeler, 2000). These choices are enacted even when the benefits and consequences of activism are known by that scholar. Most important, for the purposes of feminist scholarship, the choices are enacted even when activism is paired with scholarly production (Harlow, 2003; Jaschik, 2008; Washington, 2006). I present two cases here to illustrate these differences and their consequences, particularly for women of color, whom I find more likely to be group-oriented, integrative womynist, and activist scholars (Harlow, 2003; Washington, 2006; Woo, 2000). Both cases are composites of the lives of women I have encountered in the course of my years in higher education. I have not been explicit about the actual methods, participants, and locations involved in the research of the two scholars represented, as a way of ensuring some anonymity. In selecting the cases, I also pay homage to some of the women on whose lives feminist scholarship has been built, even while their presence has been ignored.

THE CASES Two women who had employed similar methodologies agreed to share their research on marginalized families at a symposium. Presenter 1 addressed the positive changes for families who had been a part of her research and reflected on how those changes had influenced her own life and affected policy and research for other women in similar circumstances. Because she had learned both the primary language and the regional dialect used by the community where she worked, she continued to maintain contact with the women after she left the host country. The women’s cooperative project that she had helped build when she was in the village expanded to include some men over time. Its

306

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

primary emphasis, however, was to serve as a political and social collaborative organization that would continue to influence women’s lives. The collective adopted the Grameen Bank approach of sharing resources to build and coordinate small projects as a way of positively affecting the community. This was accomplished by devoting some of the collective’s energies to coordinating the price and distribution of their needlework in order to raise incomes in their families and communities (Healy, 2008; Hope & Timmel, 2001; Ramanathan & Link, 2004). The collective stimulated a community-wide analysis of the ways in which cooking methods were contributing to poor health outcomes for all in the village. It also enacted a project that involved the development of intergenerational caretaking so that women working in the rice fields could ensure that their children were safely cared for by older women no longer able to work in their fields. The praxis-based analytical work coordinated by Presenter 1 led to an acknowledgment of the interdependency of the villagers and inspired communal solutions to shared problems. This praxis strategy has been proven effective in work with women around the world, whether incorporated in interventions or in intervention research (Actionaid, 2001a; Archer & Cottingham, 1996; Healy, 2008; Johnson, 2005; Payne & Askeland, 2008). Presenter 1 was interested in implementing a nuanced and critically conscious social development model of intervention research (Healy, 2008; Midgley, 1993; Payne & Askeland, 2008). Such conscientization (i.e., critically reflective) research places the work done by or with the women firmly within a framework that includes an analysis of their families, neighbors, region, country, and the world (Guadalupe & Lum, 2005; Hope & Timme1, 2001; Johnson, 2005; Lie & Este, 1999; Wang & Burris, 1997). Social development movements with a praxis orientation build on the Frierian model by engaging in critical analysis at each step of the research and/or intervention, determining all participant views of the proposed work and the benefits and consequences it has for the person within the context of their families, communities, societies, and the world (Actionaid, 2001b; Archer & Cottingham, 1996; Guadalupe & Lum, 2005). Accordingly, the village women’s participation in the empowering intervention drew the attention of the regional government, which acknowledged the environmental, social, mental,

and physical costs the community faced for the first time—a desired consequence of a praxis model (DeFilippis, 2001; Healy, 2008). As a result, government officials helped the women secure materials and complete projects to enhance life in their communities. After working in the host country on several occasions over a period of 4 years, Presenter 1, a citizen of the United States, returned to her university where, based on her initial work, she published four scholarly papers as sole or first author. In addition, she published training manuals, a book, and monographs that have been used by other projects to duplicate her methodology worldwide. She was later told that her “activism and advocacy” had interfered with her “substantive and adequate” production of a body of research and would therefore not be considered as eligible for promotion and tenure by her peers. It should be noted, however, that those same peers had had no problem collecting the overhead costs stemming from her funded research for 3 years. Presenter 2 began by noting that her work was initiated during a vacation with friends because she “thought it would be interesting.” She eventually acquired access to the most marginalized women in a community of interest. The women in that community used documenting techniques that were similar to those used in Presenter 1’s community so that “the world will know that we were here” (Ramachandran, 1995). The act of recording to tell the stories of their existence was the result of the community women’s agency, not the researcher’s. At the time of the symposium, Presenter 2 had secured national recognition for her work, thus bringing prestige to her academic institution. She had also simply “moved on” from her original scholarship interests, changing her research interests to understanding “the intergenerational transmission of wealth among the wealthy.” Because of her prior body of work with the marginalized community, she received a large federal grant and was granted promotion and tenure at her institution a year in advance of the time she would have been required to be reviewed. During the question and answer period, both scholars were asked about their current involvement with the communities they had served. Presenter 1’s work, with its emphasis on the increased agency of women, had been replicated around the world and found to be one of the most promising interventions for improving

23. Praxis in Feminist and Womynist Research

global families’ social and economic well-being developed in that decade. She had gone on to refine the intervention, worked with a variety of global communities attempting to implement it, and taught younger scholars about ways to apply the methodology within their own projects. Presenter 1 acknowledged the ways in which her own upbringing had given rise to her interest and connection with her research community, and she gave her study participants credit for their insights and abilities in reshaping the intervention over time. Presenter 2 said that she had exhausted her interest in, and left, the community so that she could go on to more interesting topics. “As I’ve already stated in my presentation, I’ve moved on.” As a sign of acknowledgment of the importance of her original work, however, Presenter 2 noted that an international nongovernmental organization (INGO) had chosen to continue working with the second community and had built a philanthropic body to support its work. “But I’m not a part of that,” she added. How is it possible for two women using similar methods and addressing similar populations of interest to interact so differently with those populations? Did different subjective conceptual frames influence the researchers’ profoundly different professional outcomes? What are the costs, if any, of taking an integrative or contextualized approach to research and scholarship that involves placing research participants in their familial, community, societal, and global contexts?

ON DISTINCTIONS: FEMINISM/ WOMYNISM AND NEOFEMINISM For more than a century, U.S. feminist writing, thought, and activism have focused on the importance of women’s rights. Feminism has been a construct by which women and men dedicated to the establishment of parity in all areas of human life can demonstrate the strengths of such an approach in policy, practice, and research. Faver (2001) further identifies the enactment of feminism as linked to the relational ties of the feminist. Twentieth-century feminism acknowledged its collectivist roots in the phrase “The personal is political,” noting the importance of intersectionality among all the feminist social group memberships. The operationalization of feminism in the United States has, however, been critiqued as

307

being the purview of White, middle- and upper-class women (Collins, 2000; Crenshaw, 1995; Lorde, 1983; Mikell, 1997). Its later form, or what I call “neofeminism” here, has been critiqued more recently for its lack of attention to the issues of environmental injustice, whether they occur at the individual, family, group, state, national, or global levels. Central to this critique is the possibility of the feminist activist as an individual entity rather than a part of a feminist collective. From this vantage point, one can choose a more or less activist stance, as indicated by the endpoints represented by Presenters 1 and 2. Given the simultaneous rise of women’s studies programs and departments, a new focus on faculty development strategies for retaining women faculty, and the increasing emphasis on the academy as a business, this choice has been made possible, particularly during the last decade. Womynism, a term coined by Alice Walker, makes a distinction between the placement of women of color and White women on multiple indices using first the recognition of ethnic and racial differences. From a womynist perspective, U.S. women of color’s dual consciousness and agency are acknowledged as based in part on our memberships in internally developed ethnic and externally developed racial communities of origin. The movement, intertwined with the rise of ethnic studies, has produced alternative theories of feminism (e.g., critical race feminism, relational theory, Black feminist theory, and African feminist theory). These conceptual frameworks focus on communities of color, with all members included. As an example, in the work of Presenter 1, the involvement of the participants in the project led to the inclusion of men from the village in significant roles within the intervention, and the project can be viewed as incorporating a womynist perspective. Furthermore, the work of the village engaged regional officials. In other words, womynism is a construct based on a collective orientation and carries with it an assumption of activism. It is important to note that women of color have been cautioned by men of color in the academy about the adoption of the term feminism because it is viewed as giving primacy to their gendered lens instead of exploring all aspects of women’s intersectionality. Embodying our intersectionality, for women of color, then, can be a high-wire act of managing external and

308

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

internal critiques of our multiple social group memberships and positionalities. By enacting a womynist perspective, women of color constantly engage in acts of recognizing their individual and collective selves. Presenter 1’s reflections on her interactions within her family of origin, the community with which she worked, and her university are examples of the active recognition and embodiment of her intersectionality (Baca Zinn & Dillaway, 2005; Comas-Díaz & Greene, 1994; Gutiérrez & Lewis, 1999; Jaschik, 2008). Again, to avoid the false dichotomies of all scholars as either feminists/womynists or as apolitical, in line with the first goal of the chapter, I posit a continuum in which the endpoints might be viewed as feminist/womynist and neofeminist/traditionalist. The feminist/womynist endpoint represents action consistent with the earliest scholarship within feminism. For the feminist/womynist, phrases such as “The personal is political” and “None are free until all are free” are a part of a collectivist worldview. Neofeminism, in contrast, is defined and operationalized here as an endpoint in which the individual’s perspective supersedes that of the collective. While engagement in social movements and activism are considered consistent with a feminist/womynist perspective, neofeminists in the contemporary academy view these activities as distinctly different from what they consider to be scholarship, teaching, and service. Furthermore, womynists and feminists in this framework share collectivist viewpoints; however, womynists do so from the standpoint of communities rather than groups of women. These communities include recognition of ethnicity and the deliberate inclusion of men as parts of change strategies. An example of womynism is Judith Jordan’s woman-in-relationship model of family practice, developed at the Stone School Center for Women at Memphis State University during the 1980s. Attributes of Womynism/Feminism and Neofeminism/Traditionalism Over the past three decades, I have been engaged in countless dialogues with feminists, womynists, and those I refer to here as neofeminists about their strategies for achieving success in academic institutions. For most, success has

had different meanings. In Table 23.1, I identify what I consider to be collectivist womynist/ feminist behaviors and contrast these with the more individualist neofeminist/traditionalist end of the continuum used in this discussion. I have developed this table as a way of sparking ongoing dialogue about choices that women in academic institutions, including my own, will make during their careers and about the consequences of these choices. The table addresses six domains of research for both feminists/womynists and traditionalists/ neofeminists: their overall worldview, the role of intersectionality in their lives and how this leads to their standpoint, researchers’ behavior, activism in the research enterprise, and subsequent knowledge production. Feminists/womynists place emphasis on recognizing a priori the potential long-term social and political consequences of change on all systems. Recognition of change does not mean that the change can be totally avoided for the researcher, participants in research, families, communities, or societies. Instead, it means that the researcher must assist those who will be affected by the anticipated changes to be engaged in a process of praxis in order to proactively respond to the consequences of change within their systems. Critical reflections on one’s intersectionality and continuous engagement with various structures of positionality for all participants are part of feminist/womynist strategies in research enterprises. These acts of praxis allow for continuous deconstruction of all affected by the research endeavor. This process differs from a traditionalist/neofeminist perspective of engaging in research that allows for debriefing the research subjects at the single point in time that data are collected. The single data point process minimizes the possibility that long-term consequences may need to be explored. Feminism/womynism is based on a collectivist worldview. This worldview is seldom rewarded in academic institutions, where individual performance and recognition are the basis of reward, and feminists/womynists must determine how to best negotiate the differences between what their institutions support and their commitment to their agency and that of all women. The research effort from the feminist/womynist perspective considers strategies such as focus groups and back-translation methods. In other words, all who have contributed to the research project may

23. Praxis in Feminist and Womynist Research TABLE 23.1

Selected Characteristics of Feminist/Womynist and Neofeminist/Traditionalist Research in the Academy Feminist/Womynist

Neofeminist/Traditionalist

Collectivist.

Individualist.

Change affecting one group will cause changes in all others.

A target population exists.

Intersectionality

Recognition of intersectionality is integral to being, and necessary for scholarship.

Can be incorporated or ignored in scholarship about others. One’s own intersectionality has limited or no importance.

Standpoint

“I am because we are.”

“I am.”

Seeks to describe/change the environment.

Seeks to describe/change the person (or family/group).

Focus on inclusion.

Focus on production.

All voices are included.

Product is primary, even when based on an undeconstructed worldview.

Worldview

Behavior

Academic-focused.

Deconstruction of deconstruction. Activism

309

Owned and enacted.

Selected by researcher/academy-based teams.

Personal is political. Praxis as life. Knowledge Production

Fluid & malleable, with the advancement of knowledge benefiting all participants.

review and give feedback throughout the research effort to ensure that all participants benefit from the research enterprise. Many may find this lack of emphasis on production to slow down the research enterprise, a problematic strategy for those supporting a traditional/neofeminist effort focused on outcomes and products within the individualistic academic community. As much as we would like to think otherwise, neofeminism/ traditionalism restricts access to most of our academic research to others like us in educational institutions. This is partly due to the academy’s emphasis on the development of constructs not readily accessible to policymakers and the general public. The benefits of praxis as used by feminists/womynists, however, potentially provide more immediately accessible knowledge for all participants. Using the case at the beginning of this chapter, one might argue, from a feminist/womynist perspective, that Presenter 2 was doing a disservice to the women with whom she worked globally by failing to include the feedback from the groups to

Benefits producer’s search for truth and advancement of knowledge.

strengthen her intervention or by failing to even recognize her entrance into that community as an intervention at all (Okazawa-Rey, 2002; Saulnier & Wheeler, 2000). From a neofeminist perspective, Presenter 2’s distance from those involved in her research would simply be considered the norm and justified throughout higher education. Group and Individualist Orientations A last note on group and individual orientations is warranted here, particularly as they influence family studies. There is a large body of literature in this field devoted to group and individual orientations among families and populations, although these have not always been explicitly discussed in these terms. An individualist orientation is evident when a targeted person (family or group) can be studied in the absence of the herstorical, political, and social contexts in which they live (Bengtson, Acock, Allen, DilworthAnderson, & Klein, 2005). The individualist orientation suggests a search for truth in identifying

310

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

ways in which the target person, rather than the environment reinforcing the individual or their family and community, can be changed (Guadalupe & Lum, 2005). Truth, as used here, is generated by those granted agency by external institutions—in this case colleges/universities or funders. Individualistic agency convinces its proponents that truth can be uncovered by those whose worldviews and intersectionality differ markedly from those lives they purport to understand and explain. Rather than an “I am because we are” perspective, this type of agency can be viewed as “I am because I have been legitimated as knowledgeable.” Among the examples of individualistic behavior are the development and public recognition of traditionalist/neofeminist scholars such as Presenter 2 in the opening vignette. The emphasis of her effort was not on change for that community but on pursuing her own “amusement.” Positive change occurred, but it was due to the work of the INGO rather than the researcher. Ongoing attention to the sustainability of community change was also absent from Presenter 2’s analysis. Traditionalist and positivist faculty for centuries have developed and pursued their own idiosyncratic courses of research based on the “stellar thinking” of their mentors or idols whose work was most likely to be found in the “best” journals in their respective fields. Thus, faculties have received encouragement to emulate their forebears by cloaking themselves in the “robes of replication.” The traditionalist/positivist and now neofeminist primary goal of “rugged individualism” in the academy has been to make a name for oneself (Collins, 2005; Comas-Díaz & Greene, 1994). Presenter 2, although ignoring the influences of single social group memberships such as race, ethnicity, class, economic background, nationality, age, gender identity or expression, much less that of intersectionality or understanding of the communities with which she was working, was viewed as advancing the scientific effort. The latter is true only if the goal of the scientific effort is to provide an elite group with discussion topics or evidence to justify changes of policies without consultation with those who will be affected. The emphasis in the contemporary academy now mirrors the academy at the turn of the last century and focuses on producing more “objective pure researchers” who can be considered singular or “seminal” scholars in their fields. In

working from an individual orientation and adopting a traditionalist/positivist/neofeminist worldview, it is possible to use the research process to increase our own visibility in the scientific community and to focus on the production of science for its own sake (Figueria-McDonough, Netting, & Nichols-Casebolt, 2001; McCoyd & Shdaimah, 2007). The implications for the participants in such research projects is that the informed consent approved by institutional review boards has been sufficient and that participants need no access to the completed work or its use to sometimes change their lives.

RELATIONSHIPS AMONG ACTIVISM, INTERSECTIONALITY, AND AGENCY It is somewhat ironic that at the beginning of the new millennium, as the cohort of former “baby boomers” enter what some family theorists consider our developmental period of generativity, it is now derogatory to be labeled an activist. Many “boomers” who considered themselves activists on a number of social and civil rights issues during the 1950s through 1970s, or on women’s rights from the 1970s through the 1990s, now occupy positions of influence within U.S. higher education institutions. These same institutions are public-policy-making sites where negativity about feminism has once again become institutionalized (Coontz, 1999; McGoldrick & Giordano, 1996; Washington, 2006). Members and supporters of the National Academy of Scholars, for example, have made it clear that the rise of ethnic and women’s studies in the academy is responsible for the failure of universities to adequately educate their students (Piereson, 2005). A recent listserv topic for faculty engaged in community-based research and theory development suggested that the media may have fueled the depiction of activists as “foolish” by focusing solely on those whose activism ignored its consequences for their constituencies (comm.org, 2007). Particularly over the past decade, the United States has increasingly blocked activism via the reduction of civil liberties across the country for individuals and families of all ages and social group memberships (Gutiérrez & Lewis, 1999; Hunt & Rygie, 2006; Lee, 2005). Media coverage of protests is virtually nonexistent, although hundreds of thousands of individuals have

23. Praxis in Feminist and Womynist Research

joined together across this country and around the world in acts of civil disobedience demanding that changes be made in policies having negative consequences (Coontz, 2004; Hunt & Rygie, 2006). The global impact of research such as that of Presenter 1 has been largely overlooked. Congruencies: Sharing Activist Paths For both White women and women of color in the academy, there was a period—from 1970 to 1990—when “activists” and “feminists” were not thought of as distinct categories. An excellent example of this integration comes from family social science in Judith Laws’s (1971) critical analysis of the Locke-Wallis scales. Laws’s work stands as a shining example of recognizing one’s contextualized positionality in the midst of one’s scholarship. Her article was completed at the beginning of feminist scholarship in the discipline of family studies. The movement in feminist discourse during that period was focused on the deconstruction of traditional ways of knowing and, when appropriate, building theory and suggesting alternatives to these traditions based on women’s lived experiences (Coontz, 1999; Figueria-McDonough et al., 2001; Osmond & Thorne, 1993). The movement was also one of overt activism during which White women and people of color questioned policies and practices that kept their teaching, research, and scholarly writing on the margins of higher education. Laws identifies herself explicitly by the issues shaping her positionality; she makes a case for recognizing prior group- and individual-focused socialization as parts of intersectionality, agency, and activism. The interaction of these constructs can influence faculty women’s self-identification as womynist or feminist (De Reus, Few, & Blume, 2005; Gross, 1998; Gutiérrez & Lewis, 1999). Similarly, Presenter 1’s placement of herself within the contexts of her socialization, global perspective, and activism allows for her nuanced but clear identification as a womynist. During the 1970s, increasing the world’s knowledge about the experiences and worldviews of women required engaging in what is now called participatory action research (Gutiérrez & Lewis, 1999; Saulnier & Wheeler, 2000). Feminists on college and university campuses provided research on topics related to social change for the betterment of all women. Publications, marches, testimony before policymakers, and work with

311

students embracing feminist interests were part of the daily lives of these faculty members (Figueira-McDonough et al., 2001; McCoyd & Shdaimah, 2007). Furthermore, simply to exist as a woman in the academy during that period was viewed as activism. There was an implicit assumption that as a woman working in the academy, one could not separate oneself from the needs of other women. Neofeminism at that time was antithetical to feminist research, teaching, and service. Faver (2001) addresses three factors motivating activism that can be applied to women in the academy: (a) focus on ensuring rights, (b) fulfilling relationships established among the women and proximal or significant others, and (c) building relationships. The women who were given large advisee loads or class sizes at the expense of their own scholarship understood the roots of their activism. The many who reported being forced to choose between careers and families were also examples of this. The faculty women who learned through the public domain that their salaries were less than those of their male colleagues with similar or less experience understood the role of activism in the academy. Those facing outright discrimination by their male peers, department heads, and academic institutions at both doctoral and faculty levels understood the assumption by others of their activism. Most important, those who openly advocated for the specific inclusion of women at all levels of research were activists. These kinds of experiences, represented by Presenter 1’s case, were normative rather than exceptional at that time. Women of color faculty—even those not internally linked to their communities of origin—were visible in the academy only when the annual faculty equal opportunity counts were compiled and reported (which began in the late 1970s). After that point, women of color were expected to return to our disciplines and “behave” (Comas-Díaz & Greene, 1994; Gregory, 1999; Harlow, 2003). Women of color’s scholarship and theory building were widely regarded as peculiar to families already termed pathological in much of the family literature. It had no utility, further, because so much of it was done “without a white comparison group.” As noted earlier, both womynists and feminists engaged in activism on their campuses were and are still maligned as having fundamentally changed the academy’s policies and procedures.

312

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

Feminism in the academy, like other group experiences, however, has shifted over time based on social, political, and historical forces operating both within and outside those groups. This shift is akin to our knowledge of intergenerational change. In ethnic family groups, for example, those first- and second-generation families in the United States who have a son or daughter they intend to have marry and raise a traditional family often look to “the old country,” which they perceive as having remained the same as when they left it. They are often astonished to find that the partner selected for marriage is more “Westernized” than their own child (McGoldrick & Giordano, 1996). This phenomenon of shifting margins has applied to our constructions of feminism as well. The core values underlying feminism, including activism, are now debated as more neofeminists assume positions in the academy. Those of us who have lived through the period where group orientations and activism were normative now find ourselves again on the margins as the values we used to improve the academy are rejected by those with whom we thought we had alliances. One possible reason for this change is the increase in the number of women faculty members who lack direct experience of the forces shaping the lives of the colleagues preceding them. While in the past, one might have considered it unthinkable to separate feminism and activism in family studies, that separation is not unusual in the discipline today. In fact, untenured feminist scholars are actively encouraged not to engage in social justice or activist work until they have received promotion with tenure (Cook & Córdova, 2007; DeFilippis, 2001; Harlow, 2003). Since this is usually a 6- to 7year process, it is reasonable that the emphasis once placed on activism in and outside the academy has been transformed to one focused on completing the research projects that have been initiated. One simply must note the number of women who attend feminist family studies conferences, workshops, or programs and whose lives are completely focused on their research area of interest. For these new feminists, personal and political can be separated.

PRAXIS AS A WAY OF ENACTING ACADEMY-BASED ACTIVISM Between 1970 and the early 1990s, the recognition that faculty were not separate from the group

orientations they had been taught moved some scholarship from a focus on the singular researcher to one that embraced an “I am because we are” perspective (Gutiérrez & Lewis, 1999; Mikell, 1997; Ramanathan & Link, 2004). Topics chosen for study reflected the women’s engagement with linking research and practice with social change. Collaborative relationships between family studies faculty and those in allied units across the college or university, such as women’s studies, ethnic studies, Latino studies, and/or African American studies, emerged with the goal of bettering communities. From these collaborations, new research on new questions began to be published and disseminated during scholarly meetings. At the same time, these scholars were engaged in working within their communities of origin and across communities with their colleagues to foster political change. Recognizing that all women had the potential for experiencing most of the topics under study, the researchers during that period acknowledged that they were sisters, cousins, aunts, mothers, and daughters of those whose concerns mirrored their research interests. They did not separate their own wellbeing from that of the participants. One example that had a significant impact on policy, research, and practice was the issue of the impact of intimate partner violence on women. Due to activist work in this area, safe houses for women and children were constructed, laws were passed to support the removal of the batterer, and services were created so that those battered would have options beyond returning to their batterers. Although intimate partner violence had been a topic of research for a period preceding this body of work, it is significant that the establishment of collaborations among researchers, practitioners, lawyers, and policymakers was connected to the presence of feminist/womynist activism in the academy (Collins, 2005; Mezey, 2005; Pennell & Ristock, 1999; Saulnier & Wheeler, 2000). In addition, during this period academies began to change in ways some hoped would become permanent. Recognition of faculty and staff women as parents and caretakers led to the development of early child education centers on campuses. The research on mentoring, faculty recruitment, and retention pointed to the need for faculty development programs geared toward the specific needs of women. Awards were instituted to honor those who

23. Praxis in Feminist and Womynist Research

had been given the larger advising loads by providing them with funding to focus on their scholarship. The emergence of a group orientation among womynist/feminist scholars in the academy and the changes these scholars offered on campuses and in communities allowed for an increase in the number of women pursuing advanced degrees. It also benefited child and family studies units across the country. This group orientation had an impact not only on the individual woman scholar but also on those significant and proximal networks of which they were members. A current example of these gains is provided by the service-learning and intergroup dialogue programs that have sprung up across U.S. colleges and universities in recent years. Espousing an orientation of womynism or feminism has encouraged many academics to engage in praxis, or the blending of critical selfreflection and action (Actionaid, 2001a; Archer & Cottingham, 1996; Dolphyne & OfeiAgoagye, 2001; Freire, 1989; Gutiérrez & Lewis, 1999), as part of their activism. Feminists and womynists are cognizant of the types of activism in which they are personally willing to engage. Their collective orientations and socializations include knowledge of the political consequences for others like them who have engaged in activism (Collins, 2005; FigueiraMcDonough et al., 2001; Gross, 1999). They are aware of what professional behavior is expected of them by their home institutions. Presenter 1 could be considered “foolish,” in that she took the time to become familiar with and accepted by a target population. Her method of honoring her host community was to employ a methodology that the women participating in the study could assist in designing and modifying based on their own conscientization work. Moreover, Presenter 1 used a back-translation method as a consistent form of ensuring validity and reliability of the data collected. Today, some suggest that the development of new scholars is a form of activism. This activity, however, omits the goal of the betterment of all people, not just those within higher education (McCoyd & Shdaimah, 2007; Ramanathan & Link, 2004). Neofeminism allows for faculty to avoid questioning the academy’s rules regarding separating themselves from the “subjects” they are studying.

313

However, it is precisely in challenging those rules that praxis and activism occur.

WHY DOES WOMEN’S ACTIVISM MATTER NOW IN FAMILY STUDIES? During the 1970s and 1980s, women activists across the country could find many faculty colleagues willing to engage in study on topics ranging from incarcerated mothers, to health disparities, to child-support enforcement. I believe that feminists/womynists must be concerned about what may happen to the attention now given to agency, activism, egalitarian family relationships, or even feminism/womynism as the “academy-as-business” moves to a further reinforcement of the individual-oriented neofeminist/traditionalist perspective. Washington (2006), Jaschik (2008), and Payne and Askeland (2008) raise questions about the erosion of gains made in national and global policy formation and the diminishing access of the global population to the academy as the individualistic perspective takes precedence on our campuses. Some might argue that, as in the 1950s, the changes implemented in higher education during the period between 1970 and 2000 were only temporary. They may add that the academy that trained its members to tell me, as a 17-year-old high school graduate, “You’re a smart colored girl, you should learn to type,” is normative. In that case, the loss of activism means that nothing has been learned about women and their families, groups, communities, and interactions with societal and global processes. Or to paraphrase one of former President Reagan’s educational policy advisors, universities should be open to those for whom they were intended. Today, the characteristics of feminists/ womynists listed in Table 23.1 are at great risk. Presenter 1’s insistence on nuance ended her opportunity to continue her work at her chosen institution and necessitated a disruption in her family’s life. In some ways, her exit had greater significance for those remaining. In bidding her farewell, her colleagues recognized a shift in institutional priorities and were not surprised when they were subsequently required to generate their own income via external funding. They were also not surprised when they were penalized for taking “academy-supported” maternity leaves by, for example, being assigned by a

314

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

department head to teach multiple sections of large courses without teaching support on their return. In other words, the academy had returned to its policies and processes prior to the presence of women faculty in significant numbers. While knowledge is powerful, it alone cannot reverse the movement in the contemporary academy to its 1950s position, in which people of color and White women were largely absent. Many of our academies no longer tolerate activism on the campus, and the institutional supports for activism no longer exist. Some believe that there is no need for the continued activism of feminists/womynists because all the “women problems” have been addressed. It is incumbent on those of us who have lived through, and built, the programs, policies, structures, and scholarship of the 1970s through the 1990s to share with our younger colleagues our perspectives on the consequences of their adoption of neofeminist/traditional forms of worldviews, activism, and knowledge production. The consequences of ignoring neofeminism and the traditional academy are already evident in the return of policies and practices negatively affecting women in higher education. We must also be honest about the limitations of our first round of “deconstruction” and the continued need for new lenses to deconstruct our deconstructions (Baca Zinn & Dillaway, 2005). The costs for all families, including our families of origin, must be addressed by those of us who are moving out of the way for new voices to be heard. The benefits associated with womynists/feminists adopting a nuanced perspective of their group orientation and intersectionality must also be examined. Thirty years of womynist/integrative feminist collective praxis are at stake. Those who have never known life without these benefits will learn what their absence means for all of us. These colleagues are not, however, equipped to engage in praxis, and we who have been in the academy and have honed our skills must impart that knowledge as well. Our activism in family social science must reclaim the positionality birthed in the 1970s and relinquished at the end of the 1990s by becoming once again political. Only then can we believe that we are stopping the tide that would return us to the “good old days” of our invisibility and lack of agency. The legacy of one’s scholarship is often time related, for the period of one’s life in the academy is often brief and most scholarship forgotten

within two decades. This means that most of our so-called classic works gather dust on shelves or discs after 20 years of use. Feminist/womynist activism has potentially a much longer shelf life. The struggle continues, and the personal remains political. May we consciously continue to engage in praxis and teach it to those who follow us.

REFERENCES Actionaid. (2001a). Briefing note on international women’s day: Bringing women’s voices into peace building. Prepared by the Gender Working Team on Conflict and Peacebuilding. London: Author. Actionaid. (2001b). Reflect mother manual. London: Author. Archer, D., & Cottingham, S. (1996). Regenerated Frierian literacy through empowering community techniques: Reflect mother manual. London: Actionaid. Baca Zinn, M., & Dillaway, H. (2005). Introduction: Special issue on feminism and family life. Michigan Family Review, 10, 1–6. Bengtson, V., Acock, A., Allen, K., Dilworth-Anderson, P., & Klein, D. (Eds.). (2005). Sourcebook of family theory and research. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Collins, P. H. (2000). Black feminist thought: Knowledge, consciousness and the politics of empowerment (10th ed.). New York: Routledge. Collins, D. (2005). Faculty activism: The ivory tower and scholaractivism. Academe, 91(5), 26–28. Comas-Díaz, L., & Greene, B. (1994). Women of color: Integrating ethnic and gender identities in psychotherapy. New York: Guilford Press. Comm-org. (2007.). Are activists foolish? Retrieved May 30, 2007, from http://[email protected] Cook, B. J., & Córdova, D. I. (2007). Minorities in higher education: Twenty-second annual status report, 2007 supplement. Washington, DC: American Council on Education Center for Racial and Ethnic Equity and Center for Policy Analysis. Coontz, S. (Ed.). (1999). American families: A multicultural reader. New York: Routledge. Coontz, S. (2004). The world historical transformation of marriage. Journal of Marriage and Family, 66, 974–979. Crenshaw, K. W. (1995). Mapping the margins: Intersectionality, identity politics, and violence against women of color. In K. Crenshaw, N. Gotanda, G. Peller, & K. Thomas (Eds.), Critical race theory: The key writings that formed the movement (pp. 357–383). New York: New Press. DeFilippis, J. (2001). Our resistance must be as local as capitalism: Place, scale, and the anti-globalization protest movement. Comm-org Papers (Vol. 7). Retrieved January 10, 2008, from http://comm-org.wisc.edu/papers.htm De Reus, L. A., Few, A. L., & Blume, L. B. (2005). Multicultural and critical race feminisms: Theorizing families in the third wave. In V. Bengtson, A. Acock, K. Allen, P. Dilworth-Anderson, & D. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 447–460). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Dolphyne, F. A., & Ofei-Agoagye, E. (Eds). (2001). Experiences in capacity-building for Ghanaian women. Accra, Ghana: Asempa, Christian Council of Ghana. Faver, C. A. (2001). Rights, responsibilities, and relationship: Motivations for women’s social activism. Affilia, 16, 314–336. Figueira-McDonough, J., Netting, F. E., & Nichols-Casebolt, A. (2001). Subjugated knowledge in gender integrated social work education: Call for a dialogue. Affilia, 16(4), 411–431. Freire, P. (1989). Pedagogy of the oppressed. New York: Continuum. Gregory, S. T. (1999). Black women in the academy. Lanham, MD: University Press of America.

23. Praxis in Feminist and Womynist Research Gross, E. (1998). Reconstructing the liberal consensus on what is feminist. Affilia, 13, 389–392. Gross, E. (1999). “Measuring” progress against sexism. Affilia, 14, 269–272. Guadalupe, K. L., & Lum, D. (2005). Multidimensional contextual practice: Diversity and transcendence. Belmont, CA: Brooks-Cole. Gutiérrez, L., & Lewis, E. (1999). Empowering practice with women of color. New York: Columbia University Press. Harlow, R. (2003). “Race doesn’t matter, but . . .”: The effect of race on professors’ experiences and emotion management in the undergraduate college classroom. Social Psychology Quarterly, 66, 348–363. Healy, L. (2008). International social work: Professional action in an interdependent world (2nd ed.). New York: Oxford University Press. Hope, A., & Timmel, S. (2001). Training for transformation: A handbook for community workers (3rd ed.). Southampton, UK: ITDG. Hunt, K., & Rygie, K. (Eds.). (2006). (En)gendering the war on terror: Stories and camouflaged politics. Burlington, VT: Ashgate. Jaschik, S. (2008, June 12). “Quiet desperation” of academic women. Retrieved August 12, 2008, from the Inside Higher Ed Web site: www.insidehighered.com/news/ 2008/06/12/women Johnson, S. (2005). Gender and microfinance: Guidelines for good practice. London: Actionaid. Laws, J. L. (1971). A feminist review of marital adjustment literature: The Rape of the Locke. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 33(3), 483–516. Lee, B. (2005, September 29). Permanent occupation. In These times. Retrieved September 30, 2007, from www.inthesetimes.com/site/main/article/2323 Lie, G. Y., & Este, D. (1999). Professional social service delivery in a multicultural world. Toronto, Ontario, Canada: Canadian Scholars’ Press. Lorde, A. (1983). An open letter to Mary Daly. In C. Moraga & G. Anzaldúa (Eds.), This bridge called my back: Writings of radical women of color (pp. 94–97). New York: Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press. McCoyd, J. L., & Shdaimah, C. S. (2007). Revisiting the benefits debate: Does qualitative social work research produce salubrious effects? Social Work, 52, 340–349. McGoldrick, M., & Giordano, J. (1996). Overview: Ethnicity and family therapy. In M. McGoldrick, J. Giordano, & J. Pearce (Eds.), Ethnicity and family therapy (2nd ed.). New York: Guilford Press.

315

McKay, V. C., & Rozee, P. D. (2004). Characteristics of faculty who adopt community service learning pedagogy. Michigan Journal of Community Service Learning, 10(2), 21–33. Mezey, N. J. (2005). Conducting multiracial feminist family research: Challenges and rewards of recruiting a diverse sample. Michigan Family Review, 10, 45–65. Midgley, J. (1993). Defining social development: Historical trends and conceptual formulation. Social Development Issues, 16(3), 3–19. Mikell, G, (1997). African feminism: The politics of survival in subSaharan Africa. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. Okazawa-Rey, M. (2002). Warring on women: Understanding complex inequalities of gender, race, class, and nation. Affilia, 17, 371–383. Osmond, M. W., & Thorne, B. (1993). Feminist theories: The social construction of gender in families and society. In P. G. Boss, W. J. Doherty, R. LaRossa, W. R. Schumm, & S. K. Steinmetz (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theories and methods: A contextual approach (pp. 591–623). New York: Plenum Press. Payne, M., & Askeland, G. A. (2008). Globalization and social work: Postmodern change and challenge. Burlington, VT: Ashgate. Pennell, J., & Ristock, J. L. (1999). Feminist links, postmodern interruptions: Critical pedagogy and social work. Affilia, 13, 460–481. Piereson, J. (2005, October). The left university: How it was born, how it grew and how to overcome it. The Weekly Standard, 11(3). Retrieved December 1, 2008, from www.weeklystandard. com/Content/Public/Articles/000/000/006/120xbklj.asp Ramachandran, P. (1995, September). Women in decision making: What is personal is political. Women’s political participation, coordination unit report—India. Paper presented at the Fourth World Conference on Women, New York. Ramanathan, C., & Link, R. (2004). All our futures: Principles & resources for social work practice in a global era (2nd ed.). Belmont, CA: Wadsworth. Saulnier, C. F., & Wheeler, E. (2000). Social action research: Influencing providers and recipients of health and mental health care for lesbians. Affilia, 15, 409–433. Wang, C., & Burris, M. A. (1997). Photovoice: Concept, methodology, and use for participatory needs assessment. Health Education and Behavior, 24, 369–387. Washington, P. (2006). Narratives from women of color in the halls of academe. Feminist Collections, 6(1), 1–5. Woo, D. (2000). Glass ceilings and Asian Americans: The new face of workplace barriers. Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press. Zhang, X. (2004). Comparison between American and Chinese community building. Comm-org Papers, 10. Retrieved September 12, 2007, from http://comm-org.wisc.edu/papers.htm

24 A FEMINIST-ECOLOGICAL ANALYSIS OF SUPPORTIVE HEALTH ENVIRONMENTS FOR FEMALE YOUTH IN SUB-SAHARAN AFRICA E LAINE A. A NDERSON J OHN W. TOWNSEND N AFISSATOU J. D IOP

S

ub-Saharan Africa, a group of countries representing a diverse geographic, cultural, political, and economic area, is often discussed as an aggregated set of countries. A common feature across these countries is that they are the homes to one of the world’s youngest populations. In 2006, about one third of the population in the region, or 257 million people, were youth or young women and men from 10 to 24 years of age (Population Reference Bureau [PRB], 2006). Although there is remarkable variation in culture

and wealth in sub-Saharan Africa, the health, education, and economic stability of many young African girls and boys are compromised because they lack a supportive environment reflective of the needs of most people their age. Gender inequality and discrimination are present particularly for girls in terms of sexual behavior (Alan Guttmacher Institute, 1995). In many countries in the region, youth are faced with early and unintended pregnancies, high risk of STI and HIV transmission, and sexual

Authors’ Note: This chapter was funded in part by the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) under the terms of Cooperative Agreement Number HRN-A-00–98–00012–00. The opinions expressed herein are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of USAID. The study and documentation of the supportive environments for youth would not be possible without the collaboration of the many stakeholders in all levels of youths’ lives, including family, community, and society, and most critically, girls themselves. We all must be committed to support their fundamental vision, energy, and engagement to make their transition to adulthood one that is “healthy, happy, and hopeful.” 316

24. Supportive Health Environments in Sub-Saharan Africa

violence—often within settings with heightened levels of poverty, violence, and unemployment. These factors correlate with adolescent reproductive health problems such as early sexual activity, limited use of contraception, exposure to female genital cutting, risk of HIV/AIDS, and early marriage and childbirth (Caldwell, Caldwell, Caldwell, & Pieris, 1998; Steinberg & Morris, 2001). While fewer young women in the region marry early compared with their mothers’ generation, still 37% are married by the age of 18. More than half (55%) of all girls in West Africa, for example, will give birth before the age of 20 (McDevitt, Adlakha, Fowler, & HarrisBourne, 1996; Singh, 1998). And 94 of every 1,000 infants born die before their first birthday. Despite these challenges, most youth in Africa, once they reach 10 years of age, survive in highly variable and unequal environments (United Nations, 2003). Gender in particular is noteworthy for any discussion of how supportive environments differentially affect youth. This demographic factor is important in that gender differences are evident in the pathways to adulthood in all cultures (National Research Council and Institute of Medicine [NRCIM], 2005). We know, for example, that reproductive health risks are highest for adolescent girls (Boyd, Ashford, Haub, & Cornelius, 2000; Center for Research on Environment, Health, and Population Activities [CREHPA], 2004) and that females generally have a lower economic status than males in developing countries (Finger, Lapetina, & Pribila, 2002). Thus, understanding the passages into adulthood that enable young women of sub-Saharan Africa in particular to survive and prosper is critical (NRCIM, 2005). The phases and length of this stage of life, as well as the cultural significance and associated rituals of this transition to becoming an adult, vary among countries. However, in all cultures during this period, young women develop their identities and relationships with family members, neighbors, and peers, as well as the institutions within their society. As girls explore and assume new roles through school, work, and personal relationships, many of the behaviors and attitudes they develop while young will shape their lifelong course as adults, notwithstanding the forces of civil conflict, drought, and migration (Flanagan et al., 1999; Youniss, McLellan, & Yates, 1997).

317

In this chapter, we present our collaborative analysis of programs designed to support the healthy development of young women in subSaharan Africa. One of the first questions we want to address is how the authors of this chapter came to this work. Below, we briefly relate who we are and our initial involvement together on a variation of this chapter. Elaine Anderson, a professor in the Department of Family Science at the University of Maryland, focuses her research on families at different stages of development and the impact that policies (either domestic government or community programmatic initiatives) have on their well-being. John Townsend, a social psychologist at the Population Council, Washington, D.C., is in charge of the strategy and priorities of the Council’s Reproductive Health program. As program director, he is responsible for the development and implementation of a strategy to promote better sexual and reproductive health and family planning programs worldwide, especially among disadvantaged populations in developing countries, through operations research. The Population Council is an organization focusing on international development in areas related to health and education for youth and their families. Although much of the Council’s work is in Africa, it also has numerous ongoing initiatives in Asia and Central and South America. Nafy Diop is with the Population Council in Dakar, Senegal, Africa, where she implements research and program initiatives that focus on youth development. Elaine sought to become involved in new international family research initiatives. She approached John about collaborative work together during her sabbatical year. The arrangement seemed particularly suitable, although Elaine had limited international experience, because John is a social psychologist and they could talk a similar language regarding the well-being of the youth and families with whom the Population Council works. John asked Nafy to be involved with the project because of her regional and local expertise with programming in Africa. The three authors came together originally through an initiative commenced by Family Health International/YouthNet to bring researchers, program developers and implementers, and policy development specialists to a discussion about the state of international development regarding youth programming in sub-Saharan Africa. An Africa Regional Forum on Youth Reproductive Health and HIV meeting in Dar es

318

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

Salaam, Tanzania, was scheduled where a team of international health experts convened to discuss research, policy, and program issues associated with youth reproductive health and HIV services, school and peer-based education, and supportive and enabling environments for youth. The Population Council agreed to prepare the “white paper” on supportive and enabling environments. In particular, this project required that we review many of the extant programs initiated particularly in sub-Saharan Africa to inform participants at the meeting about ongoing work. Thus, through Elaine’s available time and interest in developing more expertise in international work, John’s willingness to be her mentor, and Nafy’s on-the-ground expertise in assessing the program content identified, we merged our areas of competence to prepare our conference paper. The original paper used an ecological systems framework to help the participants identify the primary youth programming emphases. We identified the type and extent of programs implemented at the micro- (individual), meso- (family and school), exo- (community work sites), and macrosystem (policy) levels (Bronfenbrenner, 1989). Overall, the goal of our initial paper was successful in helping the conference participants quickly identify where much of the intervention to date had occurred in supportive environment youth programming, the limitations in this programming, and future initiatives addressing the needs of youth and their families. For this current chapter, we have chosen to focus on illustrations of environmental supports through a variety of programs and policies in sub-Saharan Africa that protect and enhance young women’s sexual reproductive development to foster their successful transition to adulthood. Females were selected because of the unique aforementioned challenges they face during their sexual/reproductive development. We use a modified feministecological perspective to guide the presentation, discussion, and analysis of these sexual health supports for young women. In particular, the primary focus of the programming discussed relates to sexuality, reproduction, and violence prevention. A feminist perspective was incorporated into our original analysis because we recognized that many feminist principles such as power, equity, and justice were prominent in the environments of this programming. Although

girls and women are the focus of much of the programming identified, the programs are neither self-identified as feminist programs nor do those implementing the programs explicitly name themselves or their work as feminist. However, there are many feminist aspects to the programs such as emphases on equity for girls, girls’ positive adolescent development, and changing policies and programs so that they are gender equitable. We begin our analysis with a presentation of the analytic tool, the feminist-ecological model and the three literatures that influenced the model, followed with a brief discussion of what a feminist framework lends to developing supportive environments. Next, we turn to a feminist-ecological analysis of some of the extant programming throughout sub-Saharan Africa, which assesses how these programs contribute to developing supportive health environments for adolescent girls but could include more feminist principles. Last, we make recommendations for policymakers, program managers, and researchers about future use of a feminist-ecological perspective in developing and assessing supportive health environment programming for young women.

FEMINIST PRAXIS AND PROGRAMMATIC AND POLICY ACTIVISM We have developed a feminist-ecological model of practice as our analytic tool that blends programmatic feminist and ecological activism. This model was developed from three important literatures: (a) literature on supportive environments for youth, drawn largely from those working in international development; (b) feminist theorizing, including the work of ecofeminists; and (c) literature on ecological frameworks, primarily reflecting the work of Bronfenbrenner. In 2005, NRCIM of the National Academies identified criteria for successful transitions to adulthood. They specified that the supportive environments enabling young women to make successful transitions to adulthood should allow girls to: (a) develop knowledge about how to sustain themselves and their future family during adulthood; (b) acquire social and human capital— that is, resources, credit, and value in the community; and (c) establish healthy relationships through a good sense of self and others;

24. Supportive Health Environments in Sub-Saharan Africa

while (d) protecting themselves from the health risks presented earlier (NRCIM, 2005). These criteria are further represented in the work of Boulding (1985), who argued that when the goal is the “betterment” of individuals, then the elements that contribute to this good are (a) economic adequacy—including health care and other life essentials; (b) justice—reflecting equality in education, health, and gender roles; (c) freedom—minimizing coercion and confinement, while offering opportunities for participation and voice; and (d) peacefulness—in contrast to violence and insecurity. These elements of economic adequacy, justice, freedom, and peacefulness are the embodiment of a feminist perspective, which encourages identifying needs by listening to the individual’s voice. As Marris (1991) suggested, a healthy society is one where disruptive events should be minimized, supports should be protected and fostered, and the coping abilities of entities such as the family should be upheld and expanded beyond the individual person. The outcomes to be identified by Marris for youth programming include the desire to create a safe and predictable social environment, to maximize each young woman’s own opportunities, and to enhance family and community participation and a sense of agency in defining policies and programs to meet the adolescent girl’s needs. Thus, the valuing of supportive environments has larger community and policy implications without solely focusing on the individual. Feminist perspectives also address the contexts in which women live, as well as the difficulties they face within those systems, and the regular oppressions they confront related to their positions in family and community life. Furthermore, a feminist worldview emphasizes connectedness, equality, and interdependence as well as difference. A feminist framework can allow us to develop a much clearer vision of the supportive environments for the developing young woman who is situated in a multiply interlinked and changing network of social relations. Activism for women occurs through empowerment, equality, and networking, which can all be integrated into one’s life spheres (Faver, 1994). Typically, women’s actions and decisions are situated in their families and communities. However, feminist praxis cannot be situated solely at one level of analysis focusing only on the individual. For example, the history

319

of ecofeminism lends support for our analysis of the multilevel supportive environments of young women. It substantiates the theory that injustices based on gender, class, and race are related to some of the same injustices reflexive of the degradation of our environment (McGuire & McGuire, 2004)—namely, exploitation of power sometimes in a hierarchical matrix, oppression of whatever is viewed as less central to that hierarchy, and disregard for the good of the context or community. Furthermore, ecofeminists affirm support of characteristics more traditionally labeled female such as being nurturing, nonviolent, cooperative, and supportive, and they argue that these qualities should be in balance with more traditionally male-labeled characteristics such as individuality, assertiveness, competitiveness, and leadership (Diamond & Orenstein, 1990). To bring about this male-female balance, ecofeminist activists have engaged in activities in the past 15 years such as planting trees in Kenya to minimize desertification of their land; the removal of nuclear missiles in areas of England; monitoring PCB toxins in river water while supporting breastfeeding; and transforming garbage-strewn vacant lots into food and flower gardens, all designed to minimize male-female dualism (Sturgeon, 1997). Thus, feminism enhances the ecological perspective addressing the interconnections between individuals and their environment. Furthermore, attending to gender, oppression, and privilege is critically important to effective, supportive health programming. Using Boulding’s (1985) emphasis on the betterment of the individual, as well as a feminist emphasis on gender, power, and equity, coupled with supportive environments (including larger community and political implications), we have expanded the conceptualization of environment, particularly to mean the multiple environments in which young women reside (Bronfenbrenner, 1989). Although we use Bronfenbrenner’s four-level basic framework, we have chosen to use different titles because they are more descriptive of the different entities where programming may be developed for girls. These environments include the individual’s own temperament, values, abilities, and life experiences often reflected in their activities and roles; the relationships they form involving extended family, friends, teachers, coworkers, or mentors in settings such as a gathering place in

320

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

the village, a sport field, a church or mosque, or a school; the community involving two or more settings or institutions, one of which may not include the child directly (such as public health services) but which indirectly affects the developing youth; and the society incorporating the policy environment, opportunity structures, and patterns of social interchange reflecting the youth’s society, both nationally and internationally, which exert influences on a young person. Consequently, our feminist-ecological framework for praxis embodies the aforementioned three bodies of literature. This feminist-ecological model of practice reflects the following tenets: an emphasis on supportive environments for adolescent development; an emphasis on gender and other social locations; an understanding of power, hierarchy, and equity concerns; and the need to address programming at multiple levels of environmental influence.

PROGRAMMING WITH A FEMINIST-ECOLOGICAL PERSPECTIVE For girls to develop the requisite skills to move into adulthood, they need options and a sense of agency. Such options include activities for learning and the development of life skills, the opportunity to sustain one’s self economically and through social capital, and the establishment of healthy, supportive relationships with others. As feminists would argue, girls should have a safe environment, free from oppression, for positive outcomes to develop. Safe in this context means they are free from violence, abuse, and harassment. Following is our analysis of extant adolescent programming using our feminist-ecological model of practice. This section is organized around the four major Bronfenbrenner (1989) environments reflective of society, individuals, families, and communities. Societal Programming The largest environmental system that affects the potential well-being of young women is the societal level, incorporating both national and international actions such as policies and mass media communication. Our feminist-ecological perspective emphasizes that supportive actions encouraging education, while simultaneously ensuring health and safety, are likely to lead to

more successful transitions for young women. These supports may include passing laws mandating equal rights, or the enforcement of laws concerning minimum age at marriage. Feminist activists encourage citizen involvement by including girls in community decision making, particularly where their interests or opportunities are affected, and have advocated that the legal system pursue enforcement strategies ensuring greater safety from family violence or freedom from harassment, based on gender (Dietz, 1998). Following are several feminist-based initiatives that either directly or indirectly provide supports to the societies in which these young women reside. We use the term feminist based to imply that although they may not be designated as feminist programs, they have incorporated many of the same social and gender justice underpinnings that are inherent in much feminist work. The international frameworks for much of this effort to enhance young women’s wellbeing are the Millennium Declaration of the United Nations (United Nations, 2000) and the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs), incorporating associated international conventions and plans of action such as the Convention on the Rights of the Child in 1990, the 1979 Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women, and the United Nations meetings on population, development, and women (e.g., in Cairo, 1994, and in Beijing, 1995). Not only do these actions affirm the rights of young women’s development, they also support their power to participate in the design, implementation, and evaluation of development efforts. Two health-related MDG targets relevant for young girls are to eliminate gender disparity in education no later than 2015 and to halt and reverse by 2015 the spread of HIV/AIDS in cooperation with developing countries. Official support of these initiatives provides the platform for communication strategies and enabling legislation and policy addressing the sexual and health safety environments for young women (United Nations Millennium Development Goals, 2008). The most evident societal examples of supports are the commencement of national discussions to address girls’ sexual and reproductive health needs. For example, in 1999, Uganda adopted the National Youth Policy, followed in 2000 by the National Health Policy, which specifically address sexual and reproductive

24. Supportive Health Environments in Sub-Saharan Africa

health needs of young women (Neema, Musisi, & Kibombo, 2004). Other countries such as Malawi under their National Youth Policy (Alan Guttmacher Institute, 2005a) provide general guidelines for developing supportive environments to address key women’s issues, including reproductive health issues and HIV/AIDS. In 1995, Nigeria, through its Adolescent Health Policy (Alan Guttmacher Institute, 2004b), brought greater attention to the reproductive health issues of its young women, and again in 2000, the Federal Ministry of Health issued a national reproductive health policy where deficiencies in the current reproductive health system were identified. Feminists have called on policymakers and program developers to involve youth, including young girls, in the decision-making process at both the national and local levels (Inglehart & Norris, 2003). In Malawi, for example, female youth-run NGOs have been founded to promote youth participation around various health, economic, and safety issues (Alan Guttmacher Institute, 2005a). Such youth-friendly services not only enhance the well-being of individual young women but also support networks reflective of family and community priorities. Additionally, there is considerable evidence of the media’s effectiveness in changing attitudes and social discourse on sensitive women’s health issues. Excellent reviews on the communication lessons women learned from family planning and reproductive health by Piotrow, Kincaid, Rimon, and Rinehart (1997) and Palmer (2002), and more recent work on the effectiveness of mass media in changing HIV/AIDS-related behavior among young people in developing countries by Bertrand and Anhang (2006), highlight the major role played by mass media communication in creating a feminist-centered supportive environment for girls. On a societal level, mass media can present a feminist perspective that encourages young women’s exposure to information about family planning, HIV, and other health information, while also promoting gender equity through radio, billboard, or poster social marketing campaigns. Individual Programming Although there are clear examples of systemic policy and programmatic initiatives on a societal level, much of the programming

321

to date in sub-Saharan Africa focuses on working with the individual girl. Given that up to 64% of girls in four African countries (Burkina Faso, Ghana, Malawi, and Uganda) report that the major barriers to receiving reproductive health information and services are fear, shyness, or embarrassment; women themselves, programs for women, and the cultures where they reside must acknowledge this psychological impediment and face the magnitude of the challenge in bringing about supportive changes in social behaviors for young girls (Biddlecom, 2006). Health programming largely focuses on the provision of information on physical development; distribution of condoms; voluntary counseling and testing (VCT); referrals and health services for the prevention of unwanted conditions such as STIs, HIV, and pregnancy; or care for those already infected or pregnant (Biddlecom). Feminist-ecological programming examples for delivering sexual and reproductive health information to female adolescents include the Naguru Teenage and Information Centre in Kampala, which has experienced increasing demands for the services that distribute condoms and provide voluntary counseling and testing, referrals, and medical services for STIs and pregnancy (Alan Guttmacher Institute, 2005b); and the Ugandan Care and Support Project that addresses HIV prevention, medical care, and psychosocial support for out-of-school girls (Alan Guttmacher Institute, 2005b). In Ghana, the “Young and Wise” campaign of Planned Parenthood provides sexual and reproductive health information and counseling and services at special youth-friendly service centers (Alan Guttmacher Institute, 2004a). Even with services at the individual level, it is important for feminists to note that programs may have differential gender impacts. For example, in Zimbabwe, an intervention to improve sexual and reproductive health resulted in improved female attitudes toward condoms with male attitudes becoming more negative (Moyo, Bond, Williams, & Mueller, 2000). Thus, a feminist lens can monitor and evaluate a system’s failure to identify whether age or gender discrimination occurs (Erulkar, Beksinska, & Cebekhulu, 2001). Efforts in other areas such as education and work also support and even seek to integrate reproductive health messages for youth into their programs. In Nigeria, the Adolescent

322

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

Health and Information Projects (Mathur, Greene, & Malhotra, 2003) train married and divorced adolescents in income-generating skills and provide health information. The importance of supporting wage-earning jobs for girls has implications not only for their livelihoods but also for their future relationships and health. For example, participation in work as a young woman correlates with delaying marriage. Being married at 18 years of age or later age delays the first childbirth, and leads to fewer births by age 24 and the decrease of other health-related reproductive risks for young women (Mensch, Bruce, & Greene, 1998). Hence, any discussion of supportive feminist-ecological health environments demands a consideration of economic supports, with future feminist poverty alleviation strategies emphasizing their impact on promising sexual and reproductive health practices. Relationship Programming For many girls, their family, consisting of parents, siblings, and other kin both related and fictive, is the primary unit within which they develop. It is within the family of origin that girls first observe and learn about personal and sexual relationships. Often, one’s family serves as a model as well as a source of support when girls develop their own personal relationships. One of the most critical relationship issues for young girls is reducing the risk of HIV transmission. In settings with generalized HIV epidemics, HIV is increasingly selective of the young—particularly girls. For example, incidence runs typically 3 to 1 and up to 8 to 1 among girls compared with boys aged 15 to 24. Risk factors include social isolation, insecure living arrangements, and poor school enrollment (Bruce, 2006). Feminist programming supportive of the various relationships girls form could enable young girls to develop a sense of agency or control within the different contexts in which they engage and provide supports that enhance their ability to make the connections between the various systems in their lives. Following are examples of such feminist-focused programs that could enhance the relationships of young women. Feminist-focused programs should attend to the cultural contexts of families and youth. In fact, in some sub-Saharan African cultures, communication is actually discouraged between adolescents and their parents around topics such as sexuality and reproductive health as it implies

deep familial disrespect. In some cultures, these conversations are better managed through older family members, teachers, trusted elders, or religious leaders (Musa-Aisien et al., 2004; Speizer, Mullen, & Amégee, 2001). Consequently, in supporting the transition of girls into adulthood, it is critical for feminists to develop programming that enhances the various relationships in which young women start to engage, since they often identify parents and their surrogates such as teachers as their preferred sources of reliable information on health. In the African context, adolescents learn most of what they know about sex and reproductive health from friends and media sources (Dieng et al., 2004; Pacific Institute for Women’s Health, 2002). Furthermore, a study in Senegal (Committee for Studies on Women, Family and Environment in Africa [CEFFEVA], 2001) found adolescents and their parents view communicating about sex differently. Parents are reluctant to talk to their children about prevention because they believe that they may not have accurate information or that their knowledge is inadequate (Dieng et al., 2004). Parents are more likely to communicate with girls than boys about sex, but they focus on pregnancy and often admonish the girls rather than listen to them or answer questions. Despite difficulties involved in communication about sexuality, parents recognize that adolescents need information about reproductive health, and they want to be the main actors in educating their children about these issues (Dieng et al., 2004; Soul Beat Africa, 2004). Also, youth say that they would prefer to obtain information from their parents about sexual matters rather than from peers or others (Dieng et al.). The desire for intergenerational communication is reciprocal as three fourths of the parents think that they should provide sex information to their children. However, after interventions to improve adolescent reproductive health, although youth sought more information from adults, they did not report better communication with their parents (Dieng et al.). In Senegal, however, those youth reporting communication with and support from their parents were less likely to be sexually active than those without support (Diop & Dieng, 2002). Feminist programming can explore differences in parent and youth perception about sex and communication and the relationship to youth sexual behavior.

24. Supportive Health Environments in Sub-Saharan Africa

Programs that support girls’ school attendance by encouraging the development of teacher mentor/student mentee relationships also could be potentially protective of girls’ reproductive health. While acknowledging that sexual violence in schools is a reality for both girls and boys, we know that school attendance fosters delayed sexual debut, marriage, and childbirth while also increasing contraceptive and condom use among sexually active girls (Jejeebhoy, Shah, & Thapa, 2005). For example, initiatives to provide incentives for families to keep girls in schools in Bangladesh have improved schooling outcomes for girls (NRCIM, 2005). Another related relationship area involves creating safe spaces and social networks that recognize gender-specific needs. In South Africa, the Population Council in collaboration with three South African institutions is developing an intervention where small groups of youth meet regularly with community mentors. Mentorships are designed to reduce social isolation, build positive social relationships, and encourage productive behaviors among young people, while focusing on issues of HIV/AIDS and economic security (Hallman & Roca, 2007). The SHAZ (Shaping the Health of Adolescents in Zimbabwe) project addresses the need to provide supports to AIDS-orphaned girls who often feel economic pressure to engage in transactional sex with older men (Gross & Sibanda, 2005). Girls form peer groups, receive life skills education, entrepreneurship and skills training, and are matched with local businesswomen who act as mentors. More work with a feminist lens is needed to help girls and their families develop and maintain positive relationships to meet the challenges raised by reproductive health and HIV/AIDS issues. Community Programming Community programs do not always include the child directly, but rather, those targeted by the program such as a parent may indirectly exert an effect on the developing young person. Furthermore, for girls in particular, the added responsibility of household and child care responsibilities often limit their ability to take advantage of opportunities in their communities. Feminist-ecological programming could support the various institutions that directly or indirectly influence girls and ensure positive functioning for them and their extended families, regardless of

323

immediate living arrangements. These supports could include better quality health care services or valuable workplace benefits for employees and their families. Following are a few examples of such programs that may provide support to the community networks of these girls. Family life education, often offered within a training strategy with the support of the official family planning policy, provides an indirect transfer of information, from teachers to students or from the mother to her daughter on health, pregnancy prevention, and life skills. Examples of such training are the three-pronged Ugandan School Health Education Project Health Education Network, and Save Youth From AIDS (Alan Guttmacher Institute, 2005b). The mere presence of this effort may indicate a more effective underlying system of supports for young girls in the community. Finally, particular concerns in the community are the issues of safety and sexual violence. In 2004, the Population Council joined UNICEF and the local Crime Reduction in Schools Project in South Africa (Hallman & Diers, 2005) to examine issues of safety in the schools. Research identified potential safe places and locales where students congregated. The researchers subsequently met with key stakeholders such as principals, police, and local development boards to find ways to increase girls’ access to safe places. An inventory of possible youth-serving programs particularly receptive to girls also was created. Integrative Models of Programming The overriding rule for tailoring feministecological interventions should be to address the multiple contexts of girls’ lives by including all levels of programming (Population Council, 2006). Young women can develop the strengths to rely on themselves, but they also need allies such as their family and friends and supports from their local communities. Furthermore, challenging and changing existing structures and institutions to reflect feminist perspectives can maximize the hope of sustainability often offered from larger governmental entities. Recognizing the importance of developing strategies that offer supportive environmental programming to girls from multiple concurrent action levels is a role in which feminists can engage further.

324

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

For example, the NGO advocacy community has been actively involved in programming that addresses the various milieus where transitions occur, particularly for girls. In rural Upper Egypt, the Ishrat Project offers a package of interventions for adolescent girls to address limited education and restricted mobility and social networks. Girls and their families are exposed to information and formal learning opportunities. The goal is to change the perspectives concurrently of parents, male peers, and community and religious leaders to decrease the frequency of early or forced marriage (Transitions to Adulthood, 2005). Feminist advocates can clearly lend support to this discussion regarding issues of empowerment, justice, and social relationships. Another example of multilevel programming is the Ministry of Health, World Health Organization (WHO) and Population Council collaboration in Senegal to improve reproductive health among youth, including young women from 10 to 19 years of age. In 1999, the Office of Adolescent Health was created (Diop, 2003). Simultaneous community, clinic, and schoolbased interventions were introduced, in which the strategy systematically included youth networks, community and religious leaders, and parents in defining key messages and preferred communication channels. Although the interventions faced challenges, including political changes, religious and cultural skepticism, and inexperienced peer educators, recognizing the diversity of opinion among all the constituents enabled the program to ensure services for young women and suggest significant changes in attitudes, knowledge, and behavior in the community. Feminists can contribute to these interventions through their emphasis on enabling the often “unheard voices” to be recognized. In Tanzania, the African Medical and Research Foundation (AMREF) intervened with a community program targeted at girls through the schools, to be sustained nationally within 5 years (Frontiers/Population Council, 2003). Several contextual components were included in the intervention. At the individual level, reproductive health services and health education were provided, and the community implemented a condom promotion and social marketing program. Community advisory committees, religious leaders, school personnel, and district education officials were involved with

activities. Knowledge and attitudes changed significantly with males reporting more behavior changes than females in delayed sexual debut and fewer sexual partners. It was concluded that in the future, efforts to affect other contexts such as the mass media, family, nonschool-based youth settings, and health facilities should be included in the interventions. The strengths of these integrative levels of programming are several. Multiple collaborative efforts are developed between the different programming levels. These interventions seem to better mirror the real lives of young women by taking into account the multiple contexts where their transitions occur. Such integrative programming enhances the potential for success because the multiple contexts that influence a challenging topic such as reproductive health are being considered simultaneously in the design of an intervention. Multilevel interventions make empowerment become a possibility because of the multiple supports provided to the girls, although there is little systematic documentation about the process of implementing multilevel integrated efforts, the time required to see tangible benefits, the costs of these strategies, or the tremendous contributions of local resources to the development of supportive environments. Likewise, there is little work done to assess whether or not institutional or ideological change happens when a feminist-ecological perspective is introduced and implemented. Therefore, in the concluding section, we make recommendations for future work to enhance the feminist-ecological supportive environments addressing the health needs of young women in sub-Saharan Africa.

RECOMMENDATIONS AND CONCLUSIONS FOR POLICYMAKERS, PROGRAM MANAGERS, AND RESEARCHERS What does this evidence suggest for enabling the development of a supportive feminist-ecological environment for young girls in sub-Saharan Africa and for the work of feminists? To develop clear national policies and guidelines, it is important that feminists be engaged in supportive activities within the girls’ multiple environments. Feminist work should be multisectoral in nature and recognize the levels of potential intervention

24. Supportive Health Environments in Sub-Saharan Africa

implied by the diverse contexts in which the young women live. A feminist lens can support the girls’ individual voices, reflective of their needs and aspirations, to inform new interventions that consider the role of gender on access to, and use of, social resources under given economic and social conditions. A feminist lens also causes us to challenge institutions and ideologies that are sexist, racist, classist, and so on. For example, providing females access to integrated affordable health services that include education about, and services for, the prevention of unwanted infection (STI/HIV), unwanted pregnancy, and sexual violence, as well as services for addressing the consequences of these health risks, is imperative. Such strategic preventative investments in those young women most at risk of poor sexual and reproductive health outcomes can build up their assets and resilience to future health and economic risks. Particular attention should be given to the needs of young girls where gender inequality increases their burden of ill health and limited economic opportunities. Feminists’ emphasis on building a collective voice to address individual problems can become a source of strength in developing strategies that engage families and communities in a debate about supportive environments for girls. The work of female youth-focused advocacy networks, who seek to use evidence and the voices of young women to enhance the supportive elements of local environments, should be supported. Feminist champions coupled with multisectoral committees can serve to stimulate debate on critical supportive environment issues for girls such as educating parents to better understand how their behavior and communication efforts affect their children now and in the future, or the recognition that traditional supports for young women and mothers are weakening (i.e., due to urbanization, the globalization of economies, the decline of kinship groups, and other social transformations). Understanding the need for more public discussion of the issues affecting girls is fundamental to the development of appropriate and culturally competent programming. To explore the impact of diverse contexts on both younger and older girls and their risk-taking behavior, as well as the opportunities for social support, one also must consider the diversity of girls regarding culture, economics, and age. Key

325

supportive concepts such as self-esteem, social networks, and social connectedness have different meanings in diverse cultures, regions, or faiths. Feminist involvement is key to formative research and its attempt to understand the meaning and success of intervention strategies. For example, some young women are quite mobile (through marriage or work), making it difficult to conduct longitudinal studies, but following them over time provides the best opportunities to understand the dynamics and long-term effects of the interaction of interventions in diverse systems. The great diversity among young girls and the contexts in which they live demands that policymakers and program managers think more strategically about how to provide support to them, their families, and their communities as they make the transition to adulthood. This is a question of not only avoiding the multiple risks to their welfare during this transition but also creating the opportunities to develop the social and economic capital to make this transition healthy, productive, and safe. While efforts to enhance feminist-ecological supportive environments for young girls are still at a relatively early stage of development, the use of models and the review of evidence suggest promise for the future. We are trying to achieve, according to Bose Olotu of Hope Worldwide in Nigeria, “girls . . . in the current and future generation, who are healthy, happy and hopeful” (personal communication, May 2006).

REFERENCES Alan Guttmacher Institute. (1995). Hopes and realities: Closing the gap between women’s aspirations and their reproductive experiences. New York: Author. Alan Guttmacher Institute. (2004a, June). Adolescents in Ghana: Sexual and reproductive health (Research in Brief 2004 Series, No. 1). Washington, DC: Author. Alan Guttmacher Institute (2004b, November). Early childbearing in Nigeria: A continuing challenge (Research in Brief 2004 Series, No. 2). Washington, DC: Author. Alan Guttmacher Institute. (2005a, March). Adolescents in Malawi: Sexual and reproductive health (Research in Brief 2005 Series, No. 3). Washington, DC: Author. Alan Guttmacher Institute. (2005b, March). Adolescents in Uganda: Sexual and reproductive health (Research in Brief 2005 Series, No. 2). Washington, DC: Author. Bertrand, J. T., & Anhang, R. (2006). The effectiveness of mass media in changing HIV/AIDS-related behaviour among young people in developing countries. In D. A. Ross, B. Dick, & J. Ferguson (Eds.), Preventing HIV/AIDS in young people: A systematic review of the evidence from developing countries

326

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

(WHO Technical Report Series No. 938, pp. 205–241). Geneva, Switzerland: UNAIDS Inter-agency Task Team on Young People, World Health Organization. Biddlecom, A. (2006, May). Adolescents’ views of pregnancy and HIV prevention. Paper presented by Guttmacher Institute at the Family Planning and HIV/AIDS Integration Working Group, USAID and Population Council, Washington, DC. Boulding, K. E. (1985). Human betterment. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Boyd, A., Ashford, L., Haub, C., & Cornelius, D. (2000). The world’s youth 2000. Washington, DC: Population Reference Bureau. Bronfenbrenner, U. (1989). Ecology systems theory. In R. Vasta (Ed.), Annals of child development (Vol. 6, pp. 187–249). Greenwich, CT: JAI Press. Bruce, J. (2006). Girls left behind: The failed reach of current school, child health, youth serving and livelihoods programs for girls living in the path of HIV. Washington DC: Population Council and the Futures Group International. Caldwell, J. C., Caldwell, P., Caldwell, B. K., & Pieris, I. (1998). The construction of adolescence in a changing world: Implications for sexuality, reproduction, and marriage. Studies in Family Planning, 29(2), 137–153. Center for Research on Environment, Health, and Population Activities. (2004). Determining an effective and replicable communication-based mechanism for improving young couples’ access to and use of reproductive health information and services in Nepal: An operations research study (FRONTIERS Final Report). Washington, DC: Population Council. Committee for Studies on Women, Family and Environment in Africa and Pacific Institute for Women’s Health. (2001). Etude sur la Communication entre Parents et Enfants sur la Santé de la Reproduction [Improving communication between parents and adolescents on reproductive health and HIV/AIDS]. Dakar, Senegal: Author. Diamond, I., & Orenstein, G. D. (Eds.). (1990). Reweaving the world: The emergence of ecofeminism. San Francisco: Sierra Club Books. Dieng, T., Diop, N. J., Bathidja, H., Touré, I. D., Mané, B., Saumya, R., et al. (2004). Amélioration de la Santé de la Reproduction des Adolescent(e)s au Sénégal. Rapport final [Improving adolescent health in Senegal. Final report]. Dakar, Senegal: Ministere de la Sante. Dietz, M. G. (1998). Context is all: Feminism and theories of citizenship. In A. Phillips (Ed.), Feminism and politics (pp. 378–400). Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. Diop, N. (2003, September). Serving the reproductive health needs of adolescents in Senegal. In New findings from intervention research: Youth reproductive health and HIV prevention (pp. 1–44). Arlington, VA: Family Health International, YouthNet Program. Diop, N. J., & Dieng, T. (2002, September). Is parental regulation a good predictor of adolescent sexual behavior? Paper presented at the Communication for the Reproductive Health Research Unit 9th Conference, Johannesburg, South Africa. Erulkar, A. S., Beksinska, M., & Cebekhulu, Q. (2001). An assessment of youth centers in South Africa. Nairobi, Kenya: Population Council Frontiers Program. Faver, C. (1994). Feminist ideology and strategies for social change: An analysis of social movements. Journal of Applied Social Sciences, 18, 123–134. Finger, B., Lapetina, M., & Pribila, M. (Eds.). (2002). Intervention strategies that work for youth: Summary of FOCUS on young adults end of program report. Arlington, VA: Family Health International. Flanagan, C. A., Jonsson, B., Botcheva, L., Csapo, B., Bowes, J., Macek, P., et al. (1999). Adolescents and the social contract: Development roots of citizenship in seven countries. In M. Yates & J. Youniss (Eds.), Roots of civic identity: International perspectives on community service and activism in youth (pp. 135–155). Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Frontiers/Population Council. (2003, September). New findings from intervention research: Youth reproductive health and HIV

prevention. Arlington, VA: Family Health International, YouthNet Program. Gross, M., & Sibanda, L. (2005). UCSF women’s global health imperative: Adolescent livelihoods and reproductive health. Building assets for safe, productive lives (pp. 33–37). New York: Population Council. Hallman, K., & Diers, J. (2005, May). Providing safe spaces, financial skills, and HIV/AIDS awareness for vulnerable South African youth. Promoting healthy, safe, and productive transitions to adulthood (Brief No. 4). New York: Population Council. Hallman, K., & Roca, E. (2007). Reducing the social exclusion of girls. Promoting healthy, safe, and productive transitions to adulthood (Brief No. 27). New York: Population Council. Inglehart, R., & Norris, P. (2003). Rising tide: Gender equality and cultural change around the world. New York: Cambridge University Press. Jejeebhoy, S. J., Shah, I., & Thapa, S. (2005). Sex without consent: Young people in developing countries. New York: Zed Books. Marris, P. (1991). The social construction of uncertainty. In J. Stevenson-Hinde, C. M. Parkes, & P. Marris (Eds.), Attachment across the life cycle (pp. 77–90). London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Mathur, S., Greene, M., & Malhotra, A. (2003). Too young to wed: The lives, rights, and health of young married girls. New York: International Center for Research on Women. McDevitt, T., Adlakha, A., Fowler, T. B., & Harris-Bourne, V. (1996). Trends in adolescent fertility and contraceptive use in the developing world. Washington, DC: U.S. Department of Commerce. McGuire, C., & McGuire, C. (2004). Ecofeminist visions. In K. Dolbeare & M. S. Cummings (Eds.), American political thought (5th ed.). Washington, DC: Congressional Quarterly Press. Mensch, B., Bruce, J., & Greene, M. (1998). The uncharted passage: Girls’ adolescence in the developing world. New York: Population Council. Moyo, I., Bond, K., Williams, T., & Mueller, L. (2000). Reproductive health antecedents, attitudes, and practices among youth in Gweru, Zimbabwe. Washington, DC: SEATS, FOCUS on Young Adults Programme. Musa-Aisien, A. S., Anabwani, G. M., Kostova, E., Kurup, S., Motsamai, A. O., Schwarzwald, H., et al. (2004, July). Family care model: A preferred option for HIV/AIDS management in a resource poor setting. International AIDS Conference, Bangkok, Thailand. National Research Council and Institute of Medicine. (2005). Growing up global (C. B. Lloyd, Ed.). Washington, DC: National Academies Press. Neema, S., Musisi, N., & Kibombo, R. (2004). Adolescent sexual and reproductive health in Uganda: A synthesis of research evidence (Occasional Report No. 14). New York: Alan Guttmacher Institute. Pacific Institute for Women’s Health. (2002). Youth sexuality: Action research from Burkina Faso and Senegal. Los Angeles: Author. Palmer, A. (2002). Reaching youth worldwide (Working Paper 6). Baltimore: Center for Communication Programs, Johns Hopkins University. Piotrow, P. T., Kincaid, D. L., Rimon, J. G., & Rinehart, W. (1997). Health communication: Lessons from family planning and reproductive health. Westport, CT: Praeger. Population Council and Health Systems Trust. (2006). Understanding barriers and challenges to effective community participation in the rollout of HIV/AIDS treatment and care services: Report on research results dissemination meetings. Johannesburg, South Africa: Population Council. Population Reference Bureau. (2006). The world’s youth: 2006 data sheet. Washington, DC: Author. Singh, S. (1998). Adolescent reproductive behaviour in the developing world. Studies in Family Planning, 29(2), 137–153. Soul Beat Africa. (2004). Improving the reproductive health of youth in Senegal-Senegal. Retrieved March 25, 2006, from www.comminit.com/en/node/124770

24. Supportive Health Environments in Sub-Saharan Africa Speizer, I. S., Mullen, S. A., & Amégee, K. (2001). Gender differences in adult perspectives on adolescent reproductive behaviors: Evidence from Lomé, Togo. International Family Planning Perspectives, 27, 178–185. Steinberg, L., & Morris, A. S. (2001). Adolescent development. Annual Review of Psychology, 52(1), 83–100. Sturgeon, N. (1997). Ecofeminist natures. New York: Routledge. Transitions to Adulthood. (2005, May). The Population Council’s approach. New York: Population Council.

327

United Nations. (2000). Millennium declaration. New York: Author. United Nations. (2003). World population prospects: The 2002 revision CD-rom. New York: Author. United Nations millennium development goals. (2008). Retrieved August 8, 2008, from www.un.org/millenniumgoals Youniss, J., McLellan, J. A., & Yates, M. (1997). What we know about engendering civic identity. The American Behavioral Scientist, 40, 620–631.

25 THIRTY YEARS OF FEMINIST FAMILY THERAPY Moving Into the Mainstream L EIGH A. L ESLIE A SHLEY L. S OUTHARD

I

n 1978, Rachel Hare-Mustin wrote “A Feminist Approach to Family Therapy” and set in motion a major development in the field of family therapy: the development of feminist family therapy. Now, 30 years later, it is appropriate to reflect on the evolution of that initial feminist critique from a frequently dismissed outside voice to a dominant perspective in the field. This chapter will attempt to trace that evolution. This retrospective will also trace my own (Leigh’s) evolution as a feminist therapist and academic. I first heard of feminist therapy in 1978, the year of Hare-Mustin’s article, when, as a graduate student, I attended a conference on feminist scholarship at The Pennsylvania State University. One of the plenary speakers was Rachel Hare-Mustin, and I ended up hosting her for dinner because, in typical egalitarian feminist fashion, the invited speakers dined with graduate students in their apartments. Thus, the journey of feminist family therapy is my professional journey as well. In contrast, I (Ashley) began my graduate education in family therapy when the feminist perspective was already becoming more accepted in mainstream family therapy. In the 328

general practice of family therapy, I felt little of the “outsider” experience of the early feminists. Ironically, however, the specific problem I have focused my career on, eating disorders, is one of the last to undergo revision based on feminist principles. Thus, I have had some firsthand experience of using my feminist sensibilities to challenge established thinking and practice. Before reflecting historically, we want to address the question—central to this Handbook— of how we are defining feminist praxis. In many ways, this seems a rhetorical question when posed for family therapy, because praxis, or practice, is at the heart of therapy. Thus, the most basic answer is that feminist praxis relative to family therapy refers to the way in which feminist principles influence how therapists think about and interact with clients, conceptualize clinical issues, and structure treatment. It is important to note that feminist family therapy is not a model of practice per se. Rather, it is the application of feminist principles to extant treatment models such that they are adapted to be consistent with feminist values. Thus, no one model of feminist family therapy exists; rather, it is an orientation, a

25. Thirty Years of Feminist Family Therapy

way of thinking and practicing that may be integrated with a range of models. Beyond this most basic definition, feminist praxis relative to family therapy also addresses how therapists are trained. The incorporation of feminist principles into therapeutic practice is not always easily apparent or automatic. It requires concurrently teaching students feminist principles and models of family therapy and guiding them through the frequently confusing terrain of how to integrate the two. While we both engage in clinical practice, it is this training aspect of praxis that Leigh has been most involved in over the course of her career.

VOICES IN THE WILDERNESS The late 1970s and 1980s saw a burgeoning controversy, both at conferences and in print, as feminists began to question some of the basic tenets of family therapy. While most of those raising questions were insiders, trained by leaders in the family therapy field, they quickly moved to the position of outsiders as they challenged the accepted doctrines of the time. These early critiques of the field initially focused on the assumptions and techniques growing out of general systems theory, the major theoretical orientation underlying much of family therapy (e.g., James & McIntyre, 1983), and then moved to examine specific models of family therapy (e.g., Ault-Riche, 1986). While a thorough review of the critique is beyond the limits of this chapter and is available elsewhere (e.g., Leslie, 1995), we will highlight the major principles of feminist family therapy emanating from those initial critiques. Principle 1: The Role of Values in Therapy Needs to Be Acknowledged and Examined Challenging the bedrock of “therapist neutrality” in family therapy, feminists encouraged therapists to recognize not only societal values about gender and families but also values inherent in therapy models (Ault-Riche, 1986). Most notably, models were criticized that reinforced a traditional gender division of labor and promoted as “healthy” the independent way men were socialized to relate (Goldner, 1987). Even more controversially, feminists criticized the assumption that therapists were impartial players whose own values

329

and beliefs did not influence the course of therapy and instead argued that a therapist’s attitudes would affect the most nuanced parts of therapy, such as what statements were attended to, how problems were defined, and what interventions were chosen. Examples of such values include “men can care for children as well as women” or “only the partner who chooses to hit is responsible for relationship violence.” By making such values overt, a therapist shows respect to families and collaborates in making informed decisions in therapy, or, in some cases, the therapist also helps families find another therapist whose values are more closely aligned with their own (Leslie & Clossick, 1992). Today, this is the principle of feminist therapy that I (Leigh) see trainees struggling with the most. Somehow, the notion that therapists should (or can!) set aside their personal values is ingrained in popular culture. Thus, students often come into training believing that they are manipulative if they introduce their perspectives/values to clients. To help students work through their misgivings, I start from our shared “value” that as therapists we need to be vigilant not to impose our own beliefs on clients. I then ask them what they do with their values when a client presents a morally uncomfortable issue (e.g., abortion, harsh physical punishment). As we role-play how they would work with a client deciding on whether to have an abortion or deciding how to punish child misbehavior, I ask them why they are making certain choices. They soon realize how their own beliefs about right and wrong are influencing their behavior. However, even if trainees accept this principle, they are still faced with the difficult task of determining when a value is relevant and how to best share it with clients without the clients thinking they must agree. Trainees fear that they must begin therapy with a list of the “Top 20” values that they should share with clients. As I, too, have struggled with this issue, I have learned that I usually become aware of the need to share a value when we are at a clinical juncture of deciding how to proceed. Sometimes, this choice point is brought about by my own internal questions and sometimes by clients’ questions; either way, it is an opportunity for each of us to clarify our perspectives. An example of such a clinical juncture came for me (Leigh) when I had a couple come in for “communication problems.” At the first meeting,

330

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

I found out that the woman was married and that their relationship was a secret extramarital affair that they were hoping to improve. She wanted to maintain both her marriage and this relationship, and the man was satisfied with that arrangement. I knew that I felt uneasy with this situation and took my discomfort as a signal that I needed to grapple with and clarify a value that I had never fully examined in the context of my role as a therapist: What was my stance on working to improve secret extramarital affairs? While I did believe that people could love and be committed to more than one person, as in the case of a committed triad, I was not willing to participate in maintaining a secret that, I believed, undermined a commitment. I shared this with the couple and stated that I would not be willing to work with them as long as her husband did not know about the relationship. The only thing I would be willing to do is to see the woman if at some point she wanted to try to figure out which relationship she wanted to be in. At that point they declined and, I assume, sought therapy elsewhere. Principle 2: Gender Must Be Introduced Into Therapy, and Clinical Language and Techniques That Appreciate Both Women’s and Men’s Experiences in Families Need to Be Used Early feminists were concerned about the lack of attention in family therapy to the way in which the social construction of gender affects family life, particularly the experiences of women. Most troubling to many feminists was the way in which women were “blamed” for many of the family problems presented in therapy, from acting-out children to violent husbands (e.g., Bograd, 1984; Walters, Carter, Papp, & Silverstein, 1988). A woman’s culturally prescribed centrality in the functioning of the family and the care of children was miscast as a woman being responsible for the creation and/or maintenance of problems (Leslie & Clossick, 1992). Thus, from a feminist perspective, the way in which gender structures family life must be an overt part of the discourse in therapy. This is true whether working with a family headed by a heterosexual couple, a lesbian couple, or a single father. We are all gendered, and an appreciation of what this means in the daily conduct of our family interactions is important. In incorporating gender, feminist therapy is careful to use both

language and techniques that validate the contextual reality of clients’ lives. For example, since women are often given/often take the primary responsibility for children, language—such as “enmeshment”—that pathologizes their closeness to their children must be avoided. Likewise, interventions that limit a mother’s involvement with children so that a father can come in and correct a problem are avoided. Instead, a feminist intervention might be to encourage a mother who is highly involved with her children to help bring the father into the close relationship that she has with her children; another might be to discuss with her the fine balance mothers are expected to achieve, between providing too much care and protection and being seen as overinvolved and giving too much autonomy and being seen as neglectful. Principle 3: Assess Power Inequities in Relationships Instead of Assuming Equality Closely associated with traditional family therapy’s inattention to social context was inattention to power differences between men and women in society and, thus, between husbands and wives in heterosexual marriage. Feminists argued that treating partners as if they entered therapy on a level playing field ignored the fact that the cultural meaning and financial consequences of marital dissolution were much different for most men and women due to women’s inferior earning position and socialized feelings of responsibility for holding the family together (Margolin, Talovic, Fernandez, & Onorato, 1983). Feminist family therapists thus maintained that partners should not automatically be treated as “equals” in the relationship. Instead, therapists should assess and discuss with partners issues such as current and potential earnings, connections and networks beyond the family, feelings of responsibility for the family, and how these affect options and choices in their relationship (Leslie & Clossick, 1992). Questions such as “How does all the family income being earned by one person affect the dynamics in your marriage?” would be common in feminist therapy. Bringing these differences into the therapy room and making inequities obvious can sometimes be an uncomfortable task for therapists, particularly beginning ones. Yet, in our experience, it is typically a relief to the less resourced partner, in that it helps them give

25. Thirty Years of Feminist Family Therapy

voice to a tension in the relationship that they have had difficulty articulating. An example from my (Leigh) own practice of raising power issues that the clients were not acknowledging or addressing occurred when a married couple I had previously seen for premarital counseling returned to therapy to work on in-law issues that had arisen around the birth of their first child. Both were very successful professionals in their fields; however, they had decided that they could live on one income and that the woman was going to stay home and take care of the child. I asked how they thought her staying home and him earning all the income would affect their marriage and their involvement in child rearing. They responded with the very common responses of “It will still be both of our money no matter who is earning it” and “We are both going to be very involved with our kids.” Having worked with them previously, I knew they were committed to egalitarian values and joint child rearing. I shared with them the data on the relationship between income, decision making, and time with children in heterosexual couples as well as my own clinical experience that women who had previously had incomes of their own often found it difficult to feel “entitled” to make financial decisions when their husbands earned the money even if they shared the “joint money” ideology. I encouraged them to be mindful of living their values so that the wife didn’t start to feel like the “junior partner” who carried out her husband’s decisions. Two years later, when the second child was born, they came into my office because of the wife’s frustration that she was being left with all the child care and she had no voice. Because of our previous conversation, they understood what had happened and came in stating that they needed to get back to a place of real partnership. Principle 4: Incorporate Individual Choice and Responsibility Into Explanations of Family Dynamics Feminists also pointed out that inattention to familial power differences led therapists to hold all family members accountable for a particular problem. Using concepts such as “circularity” and “function of the symptom,” family therapists saw problems as created and maintained by all involved without recognition that family members did not all have equal power to change

331

the situation. Terms such as “incestuous families,” or “abusive couples,” hid the issue of personal accountability and choice in the act of sexually abusing a child or hitting a spouse and put victims on equal par with perpetrators (Goldner, 1987). In challenging the systemic explanations that dominated the field, feminists maintained that therapists needed to use the language of choice and responsibility when addressing dynamics in the family. The classic family therapy concept of reciprocal influence was revised to include “choice points” where each participant in an interaction chooses to act in a certain way (Leslie & Clossick, 1992). Thus, therapists need to question clients’ statements that deny responsibility, such as “she forced me to hit her” or “I had no choice.” Principle 5: Appreciate the Diversity of Families Early feminist family therapists criticized family therapy models for treating families as if they were structurally all the same, a nuclear family with a heterosexual couple as the head. Variations in family organization, membership, boundaries, or hierarchies were considered problematic, with little attention to the cultural values or societal circumstances that might have made such arrangements functional, as in the case of a three-generation household headed by multiple women (Goldner, 1989). Additionally, family therapy was critiqued for assuming that all families were heterosexual, ignoring the needs of gays and lesbians as partners, children, and parents (Clark & Serovich, 1997) (consideration of bisexual and transgendered people would not come for many more years). Feminist family therapy challenged the heteronormative assumption that biology and marriage are the crucial determinants of family and instead worked from clients’ accounts of their significant family network. Furthermore, feminists argued that healthy families can exist outside traditional heterosexual marriage (e.g., Shore, 1996). Based on this assumption, we (Leigh and Ashley) have, in our own personal practices, adopted techniques such as the genogram, which explores intergenerational family dynamics, to allow clients to first identify who belongs in their families and to make way for nonmarital partners, friends, and others who previously might never have been brought into

332

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

the therapist’s awareness. Although not widely written about, this is a technique that is commonly adopted by many family therapists. This is not to say that feminist family therapists wouldn’t explore the meaning of biological family being omitted from a client’s description of his or her emotional family, but the important difference is that their practice does not start from a place of assuming that these are the most meaningful relationships to clients. Principle 6: Individual Family Members Need to Be Identified as Clients An outgrowth of the systems perspective that dominated family therapy was the notion that “the family” as a system is the client. The effect is that the needs of individual family members are sometimes lost to the “greater” need of the family unit. Feminist family therapy maintained that while appreciating the importance of families, therapists must not lose sight of the fact that interventions will not affect individual members all in the same way. Likewise, individuals will vary in their willingness to sacrifice their own needs for “the family.” Thus, interventions should be considered in light of how they will affect the family unit and each member individually (Margolin et al., 1983). Principle 7: Work to Minimize the Power Inequities Between Therapist and Client Being sensitive to potential abuses of power, feminist family therapists both recognize the inherent power differential in the therapy relationship and work to decrease it as much as possible by viewing therapy as a collaborative endeavor. This includes practices such as accepting the client’s definition of the problem, being very transparent in interventions that are used, and empowering clients to be able to make changes in the future without the aid of a therapist (Walters et al., 1988). An example of this principle that I (Ashley) am consistently faced with in my own practice involves the decision for a client with an eating disorder to pursue a higher level of care in residential treatment. As a feminist therapist, I have ongoing dialogues with my clients about their physical health, and I encourage them to tell me when they begin to feel scared for their own well-being rather than leaving me to assume

anything about their health status. For most clients, this approach works very well, because they remain in control and feel empowered (this control over one’s body is particularly important for people with a history of physical/sexual abuse). However, for some, this “collaborative” approach simply enables their denial of the severity of their disorder. Thus, at times I have found myself grappling with whether and how to use my power as a therapist in promoting a higher level of care—the “expert” in me knows that weekly sessions are not sufficient, and yet the “feminist” in me struggles with requiring clients to enter into a form of treatment they do not want. Because of my collaborative approach, I am typically able to work through clients’ anxieties about inpatient treatment, and eventually they make the decision for themselves and internalize the notion that this higher level of care is necessary for their recovery. Yet I must still own up to the fact that I am moving them to where I think they should be, however collaboratively I attempt to do it.

AN EXPANDING MESSAGE Once these basic principles of feminist practice had been articulated, ensuing decades saw shifts in the focus of feminist family therapy. First, there was recognition of the need to move beyond sexism and the concerns of White women to examine more broadly the impact of marginalization, oppression, and privilege on families. Specifically, the effects of racism, homophobia, and other forms of disempowerment based on social category (e.g., Leslie, 1995) began to be recognized. The necessity of cultural competence in working with diverse families was emphasized (Bepko & Johnson, 2000; Hardy & Laszloffy, 1992), and clinical approaches based on an understanding of specific groups began to grow (e.g., Berg & Jaya, 1993; Daneshpour, 1998). A second development as feminist family therapy matured was to move from more general principles of family therapy practice to treatment for specific individual, couple, and family problems. Of course, no issue received more attention than intimate partner violence (IPV; to be addressed in greater detail later in this chapter), but feminists also began to spell out the clinical implications of feminist thinking

25. Thirty Years of Feminist Family Therapy

for topics such as child abuse (Barrett, Trepper, & Fish, 1990), anger management (Cotton-Huston, 1998), adolescent development (Mirkin, 1992), families in poverty (Ziemba, 2001), sexual dysfunction (Daniels, Schindler, & Bowling, 2002), and substance abuse (Nelson, McCollum, Wetchler, Trepper, & Lewis, 1996). In the 1990s, feminist therapists expanded the gender lens to also address men’s issues in relationships and families, recognizing that the social construction of gender opened up new ways of thinking about men’s development and roles in families. This enlarged perspective was embraced by feminist therapists with some hesitancy, however, as concerns were voiced that focusing on the negative impact of gender constructions for both men and women could distract from the problem of power and hierarchy in heterosexual relationships (Carter, 1992). Nonetheless, there was recognition that working to develop new models of family relationships necessitated a clearer understanding and articulation of men’s lives. Feminist therapists offered new approaches to working with men that emphasized the centrality of gender when addressing their individual issues (Pasick, Gordon, & Meth, 1990) as well as how they relate to their partners (Neal & Slobodnik, 1990), children (Gordon, 1990), and parents (McCollum, 1990). Finally, in recent years, clinicians have begun to wrestle with the concept of intersectionality, or the ways in which systems of oppression or social categories interact to influence individuals and families. Clearly women and men are not onedimensional, and their membership in other socially constructed categories such as race, class, sexuality, nationality, and religion greatly affects their experiences, options, values, and behaviors. While feminists acknowledged the significance of all these categories, Bograd (1999) points out that they were often seen merely as enhancing our understanding of gender. Addressing intersectionality, however, means exploring the unique explanatory potential of all combinations of social location as well as giving up the notion that any one category (e.g., gender) is central to our understanding (Knudson-Martin & Laughlin, 2005). Furthermore, while individuals’ needs within broad categories may be recognized, there are still social locations within those categories that often remain invisible, as in the absence of gays and lesbians in the domestic violence literature (Bograd, 1999). Knudson-Martin and

333

Laughlin (2005) have called us to move to a postgender approach when working with families—in other words, to move from gender as a binary “master” category (McCall, 2005) that holds primary explanatory power when looking at family dynamics. Our experience is that this call to intersectionality is somewhat disconcerting for many feminist therapists who worked hard to establish the validity of gender as a lens for understanding families. While a focus on intersectionality demands a “both/and” approach and does not by definition diminish the focus on gender, there is some concern that giving parity to other social categories may unintentionally do just that. While the implications of this shift are only beginning to be explored, this move away from gender alone and toward intersectionality is likely to be a major source of discourse in feminist family therapy in coming years.

MOVING INTO THE MAINSTREAM By the time the 20th century drew to a close, a noticeable shift had occurred in the prominence of feminist family therapy. Not only did critiques and research generated from this perspective move from the pages of the Journal of Feminist Family Therapy to more established, mainstream journals, but feminist family scholars were increasingly invited to speak at clinical conferences and workshops around the country. Feminist family therapy was beginning to appear alongside the classic models, and standalone chapters that specifically addressed gender and ethnicity issues in therapy could be found in books other than those written by feminists (e.g., Mikesell, Lusterman, & McDaniel, 1995; Piercy, Sprenkle, Wetchler, & Associates, 1996). By the early 2000s, many of the previously controversial principles of feminist family therapy had become so integrated into mainstream practice that they were no longer thought of as “feminist” but simply as good practice, as in the case of the role of therapist values in therapy (Melito, 2003). To illustrate the increasing prominence of feminist family therapy, we examine two clinical issues where treatment has evolved as a result of the feminist critique over the last two decades: IPV and eating disorders (EDs). These issues were chosen because they represent problems at both the couple and family levels. Also, these

334

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

issues vary in that IPV was one of the first topics tackled by early feminist critics, and EDs are a newer issue of feminist interest. Intimate Partner Violence Prior to the feminist movement, traditional treatments for IPV relied on various techniques that ignored the obvious power imbalances in these relationships. Conjoint couples therapy, in which both partners are seen together during therapy sessions, was a popular method designed to assist partners in communicating with each other about the relationship violence. Therapists emphasized mutually created interaction patterns, such that the abuser was faulted for acting inappropriately, and the abused was faulted for instigating the abuse and/or allowing it to happen. Thus, both partners were held equally accountable for the violence (Dell, 1989; Lamb, 1991). Therapists often remained neutral with respect to the abuser’s inappropriate behaviors and whether or not the couple should stay together (Kaufman, 1992). The 1970s Battered Women’s Movement served as a catalyst to revolutionize the conceptualization of IPV within the therapy field (Rothenberg, 2003). During this time, the first battered-women hotlines and shelters were developed, the first book was published from a battered woman’s perspective, the National Organization for Women developed an IPV task force, legislation was passed mandating arrest in IPV cases, and national conferences were convened to specifically address IPV. In family therapy, Bograd (1984) began challenging existing family therapy values about IPV. She argued that therapists should express their values about the roles of each partner with respect to the violence (particularly focusing on the inappropriate behaviors of the abuser), while encouraging clients to consider leaving the relationship if their safety and overall well-being were jeopardized. Based on these formative feminist critiques, treatment of IPV has changed in ways that give primacy to battered women’s safety and powerlessness. Three of these important advancements include concurrent therapy sessions, exploration of power differentials in the relationship, and therapists’ use of personal values to inform therapy (e.g., Bograd, 1992; Jory, Anderson, & Greer, 1997). First, there has been a

shift away from conjoint couples therapy, at least during the initial phases of treatment, until safety can be assessed. In the past 20 years, this feminist-informed protocol has become standard practice in IPV treatment programs. Now, many clinical manuals from a variety of orientations (e.g., cognitive-behavioral, integrative) suggest that therapy begin with concurrent sessions, meaning that each partner starts with individual therapy until both partners report feeling safe and the therapist(s) agrees that moving to conjoint therapy will benefit the couple (see Epstein & Baucom, 2002). This approach protects the abused partner’s safety by providing her a place to freely discuss her experiences and concerns with the therapist without risking more violence after the session because the abusive partner became upset at something that transpired in the course of the therapy session. Second, as feminists emphasized an abused woman’s obvious one-down position in her relationship, family therapy models began to modify and differentiate treatment approaches for both men and women. When working with battered women, empowering them to make healthy choices for themselves has clearly become a primary focus of treatment. Therapy is seen as a vehicle by which women can be assisted in establishing safety, financial independence, and employment assistance (Busch & Valentine, 2000). Furthermore, therapists are being trained to empower women to change problematic beliefs and values about the abusive situation (e.g., she is to blame for her partner’s violence and rage) so that she can recognize her existing strengths and resources while also creating new ones (Gutiérrez, DeLois, & GlenMaye, 1995; Parke, 2000). Following feminists’ lead, women in abusive relationships are no longer seen as mentally ill but as internalizing traditional gender role socialization in which women are responsible for the well-being of their relationships. Thus, it is now believed that therapy can provide battered women with the opportunity to gain resistance and resilience so that they are empowered to leave abusive relationships should they choose to do so (Rothenberg, 2003). Feminist-inspired approaches in working with abusive men focus on gender socialization and power imbalances that tolerate men’s abusive behaviors toward their partners. Therapy examines men’s distorted beliefs and values

25. Thirty Years of Feminist Family Therapy

about partners and relationships, challenges them to confront their abuse of power, explores how family-of-origin experiences influence their current thinking and behaviors about women, and helps them develop strategies to foster respect and equality in the relationship (Jory et al., 1997). Partners who abuse are held accountable for all actions leading up to the abuse and for the actual violent incidents, rather than simply their half of the cycle (Bograd, 1988). Third, feminist critiques have made it more acceptable for therapists to express their values concerning the abusive partner’s behavior and the abused partner’s safety (Avis, 1996). Now, family therapy models support therapists’ efforts to highlight power inequities in violent relationships and to encourage partners/couples to consider whether the relationship should be saved (Leslie, 1995). It has been recognized that marriage may not serve some clients and, in the cases of psychological and physical abuse, may even jeopardize the lives of others. The integration of feminist-informed critiques into family-based treatment of IPV has radically changed the ways in which partners’ roles and experiences are addressed. The pervasive adoption of new techniques that highlight power differentials and discourage therapist neutrality is now being implemented by couple and family therapists from a variety of clinical backgrounds and orientations. Eating Disorders Early family therapy models addressing EDs proposed that unhealthy family hierarchies, particularly a mother’s inappropriate boundaries with her child, were at the root of EDs. Enmeshed or disengaged parent-child relationships and scant family communication were to blame (Palazzoli, 1978; Pike & Rodin, 1991). As a result, parents felt wrongly blamed by therapists. Feminists first noted that factors outside the family must be considered when treating EDs (Goldner, 1987; Thompson, 1992). Beyond this emphasis on context, feminists proposed three approaches to treatment which, though originally controversial, have become standard practice when treating EDs in the family: moving away from blaming parents for their child’s illness, exploring intergenerational family patterns, and conceptualizing EDs as creative coping mechanisms.

335

Probably the most dramatic change in treatment approaches for eating disorders is movement away from holding parents, specifically mothers, responsible for causing their child’s ED. Once feminists called attention to this “mother blaming” (Rabinor, 1994), family therapy models began enlisting the family as an invaluable resource in healing their child. In fact, recent studies have declared family therapy as a best practice to treat EDs (even outweighing individual and group therapies), particularly for adolescents and young adults still living with their parents (Yager et al., 2005). As a result, the majority of inpatient treatment programs now mandate traditional family therapy (child and family) as one component of the treatment protocol, while also including other less traditional family-based activities (e.g., “family week,” in which parents, siblings, and the child with an eating disorder must participate in intensive week-long family therapy). Second, feminists encouraged family therapists to explore transgenerational patterns in families when treating EDs. Ironically, while family therapy emerged as a primary form of ED treatment, therapy rarely explored families’ intergenerational patterns related to eating behaviors and attitudes, nor did it incorporate parents’ stories about their experiences growing up in a culture saturated with messages about beauty and body image (Maine, 2006). Thus, feminists argued for the consideration of these experiences as influential factors in families’ abilities to heal from EDs. Current family therapy models now encourage the exploration of how parents have been affected by an unhealthy family and culture and are not simply “bad” parents. Perhaps in their families thinness and beauty were emphasized and encouraged, or perhaps they were taught to obsess about their bodies or not taught how to engage in appropriate communication with other members (Maine, 2006). Through understanding the historical experiences of parents, “mother blaming” and overall parent culpability have been significantly reduced; now parents are respected for having done the best job they could given the skills and knowledge they acquired within their families and the larger culture. Third, feminists’ conceptualization of EDs as creative coping strategies has slowly gained acceptance as a sound understanding of these

336

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

illnesses. This model proposes that oppressed people, specifically women and minorities, use EDs to maintain control of their lives while expressing themselves in the face of difficult issues (Nardozzi & Hranicka, 2006). Young women are taught by both their families and the larger culture that success, intimacy, and security are intricately linked to their perceived levels of attractiveness and, particularly for White women, thinness. Additionally, as women they are expected to be nurturing caregivers (Schwartz & Barrett, 1988). From this, it has been posited that the oppressive nature of these expectations may manifest through EDs, in which self-starvation and purging are nonassertive, yet powerful, ways in which women resist their socially prescribed roles. As these ideas gain acceptance in the ED field, family therapists from a variety of orientations are now exploring the delicate dance in which women engage when trying to meet society’s standards of femininity while also resisting society’s prescribed roles for women. Therapists are helping women to explore their limited access to power both within and outside their families, and they are deconstructing the disempowering and oppressive cultural contexts in which EDs develop (Maine, 2006; Thompson, 1994). It is clear that feminist critiques have advanced the familial treatment of EDs into a more holistic and respectful approach. While there remains some resistance to feminist scholarship among some ED researchers and clinicians (Maine, 2006), the once cutting-edge and controversial feminist platforms are clearly becoming mainstream approaches in the treatment of EDs.

CONCLUSIONS Personal Reflections In closing, it is appropriate to also look at our own journeys. Clearly we come from very different vantage points; Leigh began her professional career just as feminist family therapy was emerging, and Ashley is a new professional moving from student to independent researcher and clinician. Leigh I remember the electrifying tension of early conferences when feminists began questioning established practices. Both the critiques and those

offering them were often dismissed and, in some cases, disparaged. Yet my personal experience as a feminist family therapist has been less tension filled and dramatic. I am fortunate that almost my entire academic career has been at the University of Maryland, which, as an institution, has been very open to feminist thought. Unlike some of my colleagues who needed to downplay their work and writing as feminists to be tenured, the administration at both the department and university level were always very supportive of my work. Likewise, the professional association I call home, National Council on Family Relations (NCFR) has, for the most part, been ideologically supportive of feminist principles although many individual members have been resistant or struggled with what the principles really meant for their research, practice, and teaching. I have often found my role in that organization to be a bridge between those who embraced feminist thought and those who questioned it, through developing symposiums, roundtables, and panels that gave voice to these various perspectives. I have found that the promotion of listening to each other typically results in an environment where feminist principles flourish. Finally, my therapy practice has all taken place in a very progressive part of the country where being known as a feminist therapist actually brought clients in as opposed to driving them away. In my 30-year journey as a feminist family therapist, I have found that the only place where I have consistently experienced tension is in relation to my graduate students. In training and supervision I sometimes find the balance precarious between respecting and making room for students’ values and opinions and being true to my commitment to feminist principles. I do not share the views of some students who believe in the superiority of traditional sex roles and heterosexual relationships, yet I struggle to not use the power inherent in my position as a professor to silence them. Finding respectful ways to encourage students to consider different ways of seeing the world and working with clients, yet not asking them to work in ways that violate their values, has been an ongoing challenge for me as a trainer of therapists. Ironically, it is Principle 1, “The role of values in therapy needs to be acknowledged and examined,” that has provided common ground for all of us. While we may not share a commitment to all of the other principles, this one has given us all room to be honest with ourselves and our clients in ways that I believe benefit everyone involved. Ashley During my recent tenure in graduate school at the University of Maryland, I was fortunate to be

25. Thirty Years of Feminist Family Therapy introduced to and surrounded by feminist thought and praxis. In fact, the integration of feminist principles with my budding clinical skills was not only taught to me but also expected of me as a clinical master’s student. My ability to respect clients’ values that differed from my own, to engage in dialogue with them about these differences (e.g., beliefs about race or sexual orientation) and to advocate for clients in a “one-down” position was formally evaluated by the clinical faculty at the end of each semester. As a doctoral student, I was also encouraged to explore feminist issues and employ feminist theory as a foundation for my research. Faculty enthusiastically supported my participation in roundtables and paper presentations at NCFR that advocated for feminist praxis. Incorporating feminist principles into my work has always been a given in my academic life. However, as a young scholar who embraces feminist praxis, I have experienced resistance with people, both personally and professionally, outside of academia who have preconceived notions of what it means to be “feminist.” For example, clinicians who have not been trained in feminist family therapy have questioned my belief that it’s impossible, and at times harmful, to conduct value-free therapy. Other colleagues have scoffed at my feminist identity because it conjures up obsolete images of bra-burning women who shun men and devalue women who are nurturing partners and mothers, even though the clinical techniques they employ may be feminist in origin. This is most likely to occur in the ED community, where the feminist perspective is relatively new. Thus, while Leigh finds it challenging to balance her values with those of her students, at times I find it challenging to enlighten other clinicians that the work they do is consistent with and in some cases evolved from fundamental feminist principles that have always been a cornerstone of my training and practice.

Self-Critique and the Future of Feminist Family Therapy Clearly the field of family therapy is one place where feminist thinking and practice have moved from the margins to a place of centrality. Clinical approaches considered controversial 30 years ago have now become standard practice. Interestingly, as the field has moved to encompass many feminist perspectives, some of these approaches are no longer considered “feminist” but simply good clinical practice. Nonetheless, there is a potential downside to becoming part of

337

the dominant discourse, and that is complacency. It is our opinion that some of the watchfulness has diminished as feminist family therapy has become “institutionalized.” As we have become part of the dominant discourse, we risk losing our “subjugated knowledge” (Nielson, 1990). Almost three decades ago, Westkott (1979) recognized the invaluable insight that results from the tension of being both insider and outsider. As we lose our outsider status, it is incumbent on feminist family therapists to critique ourselves and to stay committed to seeing full implementation of the principles we believe in the work we do. At least three areas are immediately apparent where sustained advocacy and challenge are needed. First, feminists must continue to advocate for the development of inclusive clinical theory and practice that recognizes the breadth of families. While training programs now routinely teach therapists how to address issues of gender socialization, power, and privilege, the field still largely works from heteronormative assumptions. The recognition of the needs of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered (LGBT) clients and families lags far behind (Long & Serovich, 2003). Additionally, the incorporation of feminist principles into family therapy has primarily focused on the implications of social locations, or social categories, on family experience. Less attention is given to systems of oppression that are really at the base of social categories. Feminists must be mindful not to get lulled into looking at group differences without remembering the social agenda creating these differences. Directing our focus only to how men and women, Blacks and Whites, gays and straights are alike and different hides the very powerful realities of sexism, racism, and homophobia that constrain people’s lives. Finally, if we really are committed to addressing systems of oppression, we cannot simply stop at the therapy door. We still live in a world where women earn less than men and are primarily responsible for the care of children; people are still discriminated against because of their skin color, accent, or birthplace; and couples are still restricted from marrying and adopting children because of their sexual orientation. As practitioners who strongly believe in the significance of feminist principles that advocate for healthy relationships, we must remember that the real issue is

338

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

not merely changing clinical practice but to see these principles integrated into our society.

REFERENCES Ault-Riche, M. (1986). A feminist critique of five schools of family therapy. Family Therapy Collection, 16, 1–15. Avis, J. M. (1996). Deconstructing gender in family therapy. In F. Piercy, D. Sprenkle, J. Wetchler, & Associates (Eds.), Family therapy sourcebook (2nd ed., pp. 220–255). New York: Guilford Press. Barrett, M. J., Trepper, T. S., & Fish, L. S. (1990). Feminist-informed family therapy for treatment of intrafamily child sexual abuse. Journal of Family Psychology, 4, 151–166. Bepko, C., & Johnson, T. (2000). Gay and lesbian couples in therapy: Perspectives for the contemporary therapist. Journal of Marital & Family Therapy, 26, 409–419. Berg, I. K., & Jaya, A. (1993). Different and same: Family therapy with Asian American families. Journal of Marital & Family Therapy, 19, 31–38. Bograd, M. (1984). Family systems approaches to wife battering: A feminist critique. American Journal of Orthopsychiatry, 54, 558–568. Bograd, M. (1988). Feminist perspectives on wife abuse: An introduction. In K. Yllo & M. Bograd (Eds.), Feminist perspectives on wife abuse (pp. 11–26). Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Bograd, M. (1992). Values in conflict: Challenges to family therapists’ thinking. Journal of Marital & Family Therapy, 18, 245–256. Bograd, M. (1999). Strengthening domestic violence theories: Intersection of race, class, sexual orientation, and gender. Journal of Marital & Family Therapy, 25, 275–289. Busch, N. B., & Valentine, D. (2000). Empowerment practice: A focus on battered women. Affilia, 15, 82–95. Carter, B. (1992). The evolution of feminist family therapy in the United States. Journal of Feminist Family Therapy, 4(3/4), 53–58. Clark, W. M., & Serovich, J. M. (1997). Twenty years and still in the dark: Content analysis of articles pertaining to gay, lesbian, and bisexual issues in marriage and family therapy journals. Journal of Marital & Family Therapy, 23, 239–254. Cotton-Huston, A. L. (1998). Anger management and gender differences: From classroom teaching and research to clinical applications. Journal of Feminist Family Therapy, 10(3), 1–15. Daneshpour, M. (1998). Muslim families and family therapy. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 24, 355–368. Daniels, K. C., Schindler, T. Z., & Bowling, S. W. (2002). Barriers in the bedroom: A feminist application for working with couples. Journal of Feminist Family Therapy, 14(2), 21–50. Dell, P. (1989). Violence and the systemic view: The problem of power. Family Process, 28, 1–14. Epstein, N. B., & Baucom, D. H. (2002). Enhanced cognitivebehavioral therapy for couples: A contextual approach. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association. Goldner, V. (1987). Instrumentalism, feminism, and the limits of family therapy. Journal of Family Psychology, 1, 109–116. Goldner, V. (1989). Generation and gender: Normative and covert hierarchies. In M. McGoldrick, C. M. Anderson, & F. Walsh (Eds.), Women in families: A framework for family therapy (pp. 42–60). New York: W. W. Norton. Gordon, B. (1990). Being a father. In R. L. Meth & R. S. Pasick (Eds.), Men in therapy: The challenge of change (pp. 247–260). New York: Guilford Press. Gutiérrez, L. M., DeLois, K., & GlenMaye, L. (1995). Understanding empowerment practice: Building on practitioner-based knowledge. Families in Society, 76, 534–542. Hardy, K. V., & Laszloffy, T. A. (1992). Training racially sensitive family therapists: Context, content, & contact. Families in Society, 73, 364–370.

Hare-Mustin, R. T. (1978). A feminist approach to family therapy. Family Process, 17, 181–194. James, K., & McIntyre, D. (1983). The reproduction of families: The social role of family therapy. Journal of Marital & Family Therapy, 9, 119–129. Jory, B., Anderson, D., & Greer, C. (1997). Intimate justice: Confronting issues of accountability, respect, and freedom in treatment for abuse and violence. Journal of Marital & Family Therapy, 23(4), 399–419. Kaufman, G. (1992). The mysterious disappearance of battered women in family therapists’ offices: Male privilege colluding with male violence. Journal of Marital & Family Therapy, 18, 233–243. Knudson-Martin, C., & Laughlin, M. J. (2005). Gender and sexual orientation: Toward a postgender approach. Family Relations, 54, 101–115. Lamb, S. (1991). Acts without agents: An analysis of linguistic avoidance in journal articles on men who batter women. American Journal of Orthopsychiatry, 61, 250–257. Leslie, L. A. (1995). Family therapy’s evolving treatment of gender, ethnicity, and sexual orientation. Family Relations, 44, 359–367. Leslie, L. A., & Clossick, M. L. (1992). Changing set: Teaching family therapy from a feminist perspective. Family Relations, 41(3), 256–263. Long, J. L., & Serovich, J. M. (2003). Incorporating sexual orientation into MFT training programs: Infusion and inclusion. Journal of Marital & Family Therapy, 29, 59–67. Maine, M. (2006). Feminist psychology and the treatment of eating disorders: At the heart or at the margin? Perspective, Summer, 9–12. Margolin, G., Talovic, E., Fernandez, V., & Onorato, R. (1983). Sex role considerations and behavioral martial therapy: Equal does not mean identical. Journal of Marital & Family Therapy, 9, 131–145. McCall, L. (2005). The complexity of intersectionality. Journal of Women in Culture and Society, 30, 1771–1800. McCollum, E. E. (1990). You never forget how to ride a bicycle: Men finding their mothers. Journal of Feminist Family Therapy, 2(3/4), 179–194. Melito, R. (2003). Values in the role of the family therapist: Selfdetermination and justice. Journal of Marital & Family Therapy, 29(1), 3–11. Mikesell, R. H., Lusterman, D., & McDaniel, S. H. (1995). Integrating family therapy: Handbook of family psychology and systems theory. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association. Mirkin, M. P. (1992). Female adolescence revisited: Understanding girls in their sociocultural context. Journal of Feminist Family Therapy, 4(2), 43–60. Nardozzi, J., & Hranicka, J. (2006). Keeping feminism alive within a residential treatment center. Perspective, Summer, 1–5. Neal, J. H., & Slobodnik, A. J. (1990). Reclaiming men’s experience in couples therapy. Journal of Feminist Family Therapy, 2(3/4), 101–112. Nelson, T. S., McCollum, E. E., Wetchler, J. L., Trepper, T. S., & Lewis, R. A. (1996). Therapy with women substance abusers: A systematic couples approach. Journal of Feminist Family Therapy, 8(1), 5–27. Nielsen, J. M. (1990). Introduction. In J. M. Nielsen (Ed.), Feminist research methods: Exemplary readings in the social sciences (pp. 1–37). Boulder, CO: Westview. Palazzoli, M. S. (1978). Self-starvation: From individual to family therapy in the treatment of anorexia nervosa. New York: Jason Aronson. Parke, R. (2000). Beyond White and middle class: Cultural variations in families—assessments, processes, and policies. Journal of Family Psychology, 14, 331–333. Pasick, R. S., Gordon, S., & Meth, R. L. (1990). Helping men understand themselves. In R. L. Meth & R. S. Pasick (Eds.), Men in therapy: The challenge of change (pp. 152–180). New York: Guilford Press.

25. Thirty Years of Feminist Family Therapy Piercy, F. P., Sprenkle, D. H., Wetchler, J. L., & Associates. (Eds.). (1996). Family therapy sourcebook (2nd ed.). New York: Guilford Press. Pike, K. M., & Rodin, J. (1991). Mothers, daughters, and eating disorders. Journal of Abnormal Psychology, 100, 198–204. Rabinor, J. R. (1994). Mothers, daughters, and eating disorders: Honoring the mother-daughter relationship. In P. Fallon, M. A. Katzman, & S. C. Wooley (Eds.), Feminist perspectives on eating disorders (pp. 272–286). New York: Guilford Press. Rothenberg, B. (2003). “We don’t have time for social change”: Cultural compromise and the Battered Woman Syndrome. Gender & Society, 17, 771–787. Schwartz, R. C., & Barrett, M. J. (1988). Women and eating disorders. Journal of Psychotherapy and the Family, 3, 131–144. Shore, E. A. (1996). What kind of lesbian is a mother? Journal of Feminist Family Therapy, 8, 45–62.

339

Thompson, B. W. (1992). “A way outa no way”: Eating problems among African American, Latina, and White women. Gender & Society, 6(4), 546–561. Thompson, B. W. (1994). A hunger so wide and so deep: A multiracial view of women’s eating problems. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Walters, M., Carter, B., Papp, P., & Silverstein, O. (1988). The invisible web: Gender patterns in family relationships. New York: Guilford Press. Westkott, M. (1979). Feminist criticism of the social sciences. Harvard Educational Review, 49(4), 422–430. Yager, J., Devlin, M. J., Halmi, K. A., Herzog, D. B., Mitchell, J. E., Powers, P. S., et al. (2005). Guideline watch: Practice guidelines for the treatment of patients with eating disorders (2nd ed.). Arlington, VA: American Psychiatric Association. Ziemba, S. J. (2001). Therapy with families in poverty: Application of feminist family therapy principles. Journal of Feminist Family Therapy, 12(4), 205–237.

26 STEADYING THE TECTONIC PLATES On Being Muslim, Feminist Academic, and Family Therapist M ANIJEH DANESHPOUR

MY STORY My country is Iran. I was 21 years old and newly married to my 23-year-old spouse when we immigrated together to America to pursue our educational and professional expeditions. Although my spouse and I were both born into Muslim families, our perspectives about organized religion differ significantly. He claims not to be religious, while I passionately claim to be a devout Muslim. Our ardent, yet respectful differences take root in my choice to wear the hijab (Islamic head cover), which puts me in a rather unconventional position in both my personal and professional life. While in the Western world the hijab has come to symbolize either forced silence or radical unconscionable militancy, I choose to wear it to simply obey God and also to represent myself as an example of modesty and as a sanctuary to female independence. Yet in my personal life, my spouse does not support my choice to wear the hijab for a number of reasons—which have nothing to do with my feminist values or independence. As a veiled image by his side walking the streets of America, it is difficult for him to ignore the stares rooted in the common “perception” that he is yet another Middle Eastern 340

oppressive male who demands his wife to be completely covered. His frustration is complicated, but his dilemma is simple. He feels that my decision to wear the hijab puts him in the position of “perceived oppressor” by default, and thus, he adamantly insists that I explain to everyone that the choice to wear it is one that is uniquely my own. I often explain my religious identity and how it is my own choice to wear hijab, when we meet a new person. My professional life follows much the same suit. As a professor and a marriage and family therapist, I am greeted with curious looks from students, clients, and professionals when I walk into a classroom for the first time, enter the lobby to greet a client, or when I present at a conference. To put people at ease, I begin with an introduction to my faith and hijab, welcome and solicit questions, especially those that are politically incorrect, for conforming to political correctness would inevitably make people walk away with more stereotypes than those they held before approaching me. Only when these formalities are over do I talk about my professional training and experiences. When I emphasize that my hijab represents my hardcore feminist ideology, some people claim to

26. Steadying the Tectonic Plates

have a deeper understanding regarding Muslim women’s status, choices, and within-group diversity. Some others believe that my work in academia in the United States. while holding onto my Islamic and professional identity, proposes an unexpected, different kind of intellectual and personal freedom. In my experience, both my feminist and religious ideologies are constantly being challenged and questioned. It is thus that I find myself on the surface of two tectonic plates in motion: my feminist values and my religious beliefs. If I defend my Islamic identity, my feminist values are questioned, and if I defend my feminist identity, my Islamic beliefs are challenged. These clashing plates are what form the multilayered complexity of the identity experienced by Muslim women like me—a complexity that not only is the cause for the frictions that consistently place the likes of us between a rock and a hard place but also threatens to quake what inherently makes us who we are. Third-wave feminism rightfully rejects the essentialized category “woman” (De Reus, Few, & Blume, 2004), I am consciously choosing to discuss “us” or “Muslim women” as a group. This choice is based on the belief that while there are significant group and individual differences that distinguish Muslim women from each other, such as class, ethnicity, and region, there are some shared experiences that should not be ignored in cross-cultural understanding of this group. It is hoped that a contemplation of the complexity and similarities of these shared experiences, in turn, will lead to more enhanced awareness of Muslim women’s struggles without adopting a stereotypic approach. I do realize that generalization may be one of the inevitable costs of discussing group characteristics or even of conceptualizing several observations within one concept. However, I believe that discussing “Muslim women’s” experiences collectively will be the first critical step to get to know their experiences individually. Furthermore, I believe that since we are acting out of some theoretical position(s) at all times and theory and practice are always praxis; as a feminist family scholar, I strive to do the kind of research that can affect Muslim women’s lived experiences and generate change in their lives. My Muslim feminist praxis includes disseminating knowledge to different audiences by writing articles, presenting at workshops, and/or

341

providing therapy that fosters behavioral and emotional change. In addition, I believe that I do praxis by offering perspectives about the impact of colonization and Western hegemony on Muslim women, explaining Islamic perspectives about women’s rights, describing Muslim women’s experiences in their relationships, and speaking on behalf of Muslim women who do not have a very strong voice in the West. Throughout this chapter, I offer the reader multiple “mininarratives” about my praxis in the family therapy field as a scholar, teacher, therapist, Iranian, woman, and researcher. My first narrative defines Islamic feminism and postmodernism, which provide the base for my feminist praxis. My second narrative weaves between and across my understanding of the postcolonial and White, Western feminist constructions of “Muslim women.” I share some of my own experiences as a Muslim woman dealing with these constructions. The final narrative is my own reflection on my ongoing praxis as a Muslim feminist researcher and family therapist. I end the chapter with the conclusion that because in every group, in every place, and at every time the meaning of “feminism” is worked out in the course of being and doing, Muslim women like me who are confronted by dilemmas imposed by colonialism, White, Western feminism, and Islamic fundamentalism have developed a feminism within the context of Islamic tradition, and we are continuously translating our ideas for change into practice while struggling to steady ourselves on the tectonic plates.

ISLAMIC FEMINISM DEFINED Islamic feminism is a feminist discourse and practice articulated within an Islamic paradigm. It derives its understanding and mandate from the Qur’an, and seeks rights and justice for women, and for men, in the totality of their existence (Badran, 2002). I base my Islamic-feminist perspective on three essential principles. First, Islamic principles and perspectives are important in my daily life. I practice my religion closely. Second, I value all my connections with my family, and I believe women contribute a great deal to their societies as mothers. And third, the theoretical foundation of Islamic feminism continues to be grounded in Qur’anic interpretation of gender equality. Therefore, as a devout Muslim I am

342

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

deeply troubled by inequalities and injustices perpetrated in the name of my religion by patriarchal ideas (ideology) and practices. Islamic jurisprudence, fiqh, consolidated in its classical form in the ninth century, was itself heavily saturated with the patriarchal thinking and behaviors of the day (Haifa, 1996; Hassan, 1999). It is this patriarchically inflected jurisprudence that has informed the various contemporary formulations of the Shari’a (Islamic law) (Haifa). The hadith, the reported, but not always authentic, sayings and deeds of the Prophet Mohamed have also been often used to support patriarchal ideas and practices (Badran, 2002). Sometimes the hadiths, as just suggested, are of questionable provenance or reliability, and sometimes they are used out of context (Badran). Finally, I connect strongly with the feminist hermeneutics that has revisited verses of the Qur’an to correct false stories in common circulation, citing verses that unequivocally enunciate the equality of women and men while deconstructing verses attentive to male and female difference that have been commonly interpreted in ways that justify male domination (Abou Bakr, 1999; Al Faruqi, 2005; Hassan). Until recently, because of a pervasive sexist and oppressive presentation of women in Islam, Muslim women often felt that the only way to be liberated intellectually, socially, politically, and economically was by abandoning Islam. They felt that Islamic Shari’a restricts women’s activities and limits their decision-making power. Therefore, Muslim feminism was viewed as an oxymoron and a contradiction in terms (Ahmed, 1992; Mernissi, 1987; Moghissi, 1999). However, postmodernism, which like feminism is a Western model, created a space for Muslim women to embrace these contradictions and complexities. It allowed us to envision nondichotomous possibilities, challenge cultural constructions of sex and gender, and gave us permission to reclaim and redefine Islam. I believe postmodernism can allow Muslim feminists to reject grand narratives and favor mininarratives, stories that deconstruct our experiences with men, family, and society. Postmodern mininarratives became situational, provisional, contingent, and temporary, without making any claim to universality, truth, reason, or stability. Postmodernism challenged the static interpretation of Islam by Islamic scholars who have always claimed with certainty that their

interpretations of the Islamic texts and hadiths were universal, reasonable, stable, and based on the absolute truth. The work of Muslim women as they struggle for equality, as well as the activism and writing of Islamic feminist scholars, serve as key examples of such situated mininarratives reinterpreting the Islamic ideology. Muslim feminists review Islamic history from an egalitarian perspective; recall contributions of Muslim women over the centuries; and critique current practices, texts, and laws from an Islamic point of view. Consequently, there appears to be a growing movement of Muslim feminists using postmodernism to demand that the rights guaranteed by Islam must be applied in their communities (Moghaddam, 2000). In addition, women are joining the ranks of Islamic religious scholars in Islamic seminaries, thus providing alternative points of view to what has heretofore been addressed by men.

WESTERN COLONIALIST CONSTRUCTIONS OF “MUSLIM WOMEN” The dawn of the nineteenth century marked the commencement of an era of worldwide social change that has continued to challenge the religious and social bases of all societies to this day. European colonial powers formed the political and economic ideological framework that was to influence the Islamic world. The gradual emergence of the global economy and the political superiority of the West dictated a global trend that was not easy for non-Western nations to avoid. These changes have invariably been multidimensional in nature—from the emergence of territorial states in the Middle East in their current format to educational reforms. One of the areas to undergo a radical transformation in the Islamic world has been relations between the sexes. Muslim women searched for their identity and place in the New World at the same time that Islamic scholars viewed female sexuality as a potent and aggressive force with the potential for provoking social chaos. Many secular feminists claim that this rigid Islamic interpretation has been the reason for practices that have traditionally symbolized women’s relegation to the private sphere, such as veiling, seclusion, and social resistance to welcoming women to the university and the workplace (Ahmed, 1992;

26. Steadying the Tectonic Plates

Mernissi, 1987; Moghissi, 1999). Modernity, imposed by colonialists, was perceived as a threat by hegemonic Muslim (male) interests because it was a force attempting to renegotiate spatial (public/private) boundaries. It is not surprising then that Western colonizers used the role and status of the Muslim woman in Islamic societies to achieve one of their many imperialistic goals. The classic example of such a colonizer was Lord Cromer, British Consul General in Egypt from 1883 to 1907. Cromer was convinced of the inferiority of Islamic religion and society, but his criticism was the loudest on the subject of how Islam treated women (Ahmed, 1992). Lord Cromer declared that it was Islam’s degradation of women, its insistence on veiling and seclusion, which was the “fatal obstacle” to the Egyptians’ “attainment of that elevation of thought and character which should accompany the introduction of Western civilization” (Moghissi, 1999, p. 37). The Egyptians should be “persuaded or forced” to become “civilized” by disposing of the veil (Moghissi). Thus, “unveiling women became a stick with which the West could beat the East” (Malti-Douglas, 1991, p. 174). The Muslim woman was to be exploited by the Western man but protected from enslavement to the Muslim man. She was to be liberated from her own ignorance and her culture’s cruelty (Moghissi). Hiding women from the gaze of the Western viewer and guarding women’s bodies and their minds from changes produced by foreign intervention symbolized protection of Islamic identity, communal dignity, and social and cultural continuity (Moghissi). That is to say that perhaps the resistance of Islamic societies to alter their perceptions about women’s status was the reaction of a culture that had been stereotyped and made to feel inferior for its treatment of women. Hence, in this view, “it was colonialism which made the Muslim woman and her rights central to its imperial policy in the Middle East” (Moghissi, p. 39), and it was Islamic fundamentalism that continued to embrace women’s subjugated status. For instance, Moghissi argues, In the end, ironically, Islamic fundamentalism, by embracing the female body as the symbolic representation of communal dignity, and by drawing only on the Qur’an and orthodox texts to explain, as divine, the historically developed

343

subjugation of women in Islamic societies, recycle the totalizing colonial conception of Islam and women’s rights as a static, unchanging and unchangeable order. As with other forms of extremism, the two opposing poles end up on the same side on certain important issues. By manipulating the female body as a playing card in oppositional politics, fundamentalists, in fact, embrace, however unsought and uncomfortable, the views of the Western colonizer. (p. 30)

This discourse about the equivalency of being veiled and oppressed and about the urgency of emancipating the claustrophobic heads of Muslim women from their burdening fabric continue to be part of many major debates. In my doctoral program, there seemed to be lots of confusion and some discussion among faculty, staff, and students about my Islamic ideology and hijab. Thus, I offered to do a presentation to explain my ideology, Islamic perspectives, and the reason behind my choice to wear the hijab despite the fact that I was an educated woman living in a Western society. This whole idea was extremely intimidating and uncomfortable, but it became exceptionally librating to actually explain my choice to wear hijab as a Muslim feminist. It gave me an opportunity to discuss how both Islamic and Western cultures have oppressed Muslim women in the process of either protecting or librating them. I explained that Muslim women believe that God gave beauty to all women. When a woman covers herself she puts herself on a higher level, and men will look at her with respect. She is noticed for her intellect, faith, and personality, not only for her beauty. I talked about how chastity, modesty, and piety are promoted by the institution of veiling and the fact that the hijab neither prevents a woman from playing her role as an important individual in a society nor makes her inferior. It was important to me to discuss the fact that in this present period of decline from true Islamic principles, many Muslim women are alienated, isolated from social life, and oppressed by Muslim men and rulers who use religion for their injustices. In this instance, the hijab has been used to isolate women and weaken their status. But as many Muslim women study Islam and understand the Islamic ideology, which is based on gender equality, they come to recognize that they have the same dignity, honor, progress, and prosperity as men. I then talked about how I am reclaiming my true

344

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

identity and role in society by wearing the hijab; I am embracing its concept of liberation for women and taking my rightful place that Islam had endowed on me 1,400 years ago. This conversation became the base for many other good discussions among my classmates and professors. This was indeed my first attempt as an activist to translate my postmodernist Muslim feminist ideology into practice.

WHITE, WESTERN FEMINIST CONSTRUCTIONS OF “MUSLIM WOMEN” White, Western feminist discourse about women of the Third World is not exempt from charges of universalism, colonialism, and misunderstanding Third World women’s experiences because it removes the cultural differences that distinguish us from each other (Aguilar, 1997; Mohanty, 1995; Sandoval, 2000). It constructs all us Third World women, regardless of our ethnic origin, as a collective “us” versus the White, Western women’s “them” (Mohanty). “Wow, I didn’t know Muslim women go to elementary school. What are you doing in a PhD program?” This was the first conversation that I had with my main advisor, who claimed to be a feminist, in my doctoral program. This interaction was not surprising because such a construction allowed her to have a “monolithic image of us third world women as passive, powerless, backward, uneducated, [and] victimized, a construction that makes it easier for white, western feminists to theorize ‘us’ in generic, exchangeable, and co-modified ways” (Mohanty, p. 259). I was definitely a perplexing phenomenon in the eyes of my advisor, from the first day we met. Her surprise that I was allowed past elementary, much less into postsecondary education, was a common theme in the department. The addition of a Muslim woman into the program was somewhat shocking for everyone. My enthusiasm began to subside slowly as marriage and family therapy faculty explained to me that getting my doctorate in family studies was a better option than pursuing a clinical degree in marriage and family therapy. They explained that finding a placement for my clinical internship was going to be extremely difficult due to my unpronounceable foreign name, “National Geographic appearance,” and Middle Eastern accent. Indeed, my ability to provide quality

individual, couple, and family therapy to American families was a concern to them, who imagined that all the barriers were working against me. Thus, in the years I spent earning this degree, I truly believe that I worked harder than my fellow students. My accomplishments were not due to any kind of affirmative action nor were they a product of opportunities afforded for the sake of empowering a Muslim woman to acknowledge her own potential. I felt alone, unsupported, and usually on the defensive. It was not easy to prove myself in a world where the odds were always against me. It seemed to me that everyone was comfortable with their own conceptualization of who Muslim women are, and I was throwing their perceptions out of balance. All the concerns about the status of women in the Middle East did not inspire anyone to give me an easier time, or even believe in my abilities. I struggled in the middle of a paradoxical limbo between concerned professionals feeling sorry for my category of people while refusing to believe in my abilities to challenge the Muslim women’s static and ahistorical image. This is what I and many other “Third World” women find problematic in White, Western feminist scholarship about Muslim women, because it tends to constitute Third World women as an ahistorical group undifferentiated by other factors such as class, ethnicity, and geographical location. Our identities are understood as constituted prior to our placement in a variety of social institutions, such as our families, rather than meaningful identities being produced through these institutional relations. Gender is thus taken to be the origin of oppression, rather than oppression producing particular forms of gender. White, Western feminists have used a model of subjectivity that does not allow for sufficient agency in any of us “Third World women.” All through my professional journey, I had the audacity to redefine the category that White, Western feminists or neocolonialists have created for me and placed me in. By creating my own category and by defining my own box in which to sit, I tried to survive the learning curve of this ordeal. Nevertheless, I have to admit that White, Western feminist perception of Muslim women was not created in a vacuum. There has been a secular feminist movement in Muslim countries that emerged from Third World women’s own willing participation in being viewed as modern

26. Steadying the Tectonic Plates

with all its colonial discourses and hegemonic First World formations. In their attempts to free themselves from the oppression placed on them by Islamic fundamentalists, secular Third World feminists joined White, Western feminists in describing the fellow veiled Third World woman as having “needs” and “problems,” with few if any having “choices” or the freedom to act (Mohanty, 1995, p. 260). This participation wittingly or unwittingly led to the oppression and exploitation of many women who were struggling to deal with the contradictions of being placed between the imperialism of modernity and narrowmindedness of tradition (Aguilar, 1997). To understand these contradictions, we have to analyze the way that a culture of modernity is produced in diverse locations and how these cultural productions are circulated, distributed, received, and even comodified. There have also been dichotomies created by defining the basic concepts of what is modern only in contrast to what is traditional. As a result, many Muslim women’s movements do not get acknowledged partly due to the tendency to judge modernity by sect, dress, or language. For example, a woman who is well dressed in modern European clothes and tied to a consumer lifestyle while remaining subservient to her husband is seen as being modern because of her knowledge of Western languages and lifestyle and her costume. On the other hand, her less affluent counterpart who wears the traditional head cover, speaks only Arabic, works in the fields or factories, and who perhaps has joined an underground movement against the Israeli occupation, with all her independence and political awareness, is considered backward because of her appearance, dress, and language. My postmodern Muslim feminist praxis is based on fighting against this definition of modernity that creates a dichotomous and conventional view of Muslim women as being secluded, uneducated, and controlled if they choose to wear the hijab.

POSTMODERN MUSLIM FEMINIST PRAXIS On Being an Academician For many years now, the majority of Muslim countries struggle to recover from the effects of colonialism. Many of our societies cry out for political and social change to establish a political system in which the supreme power lies in a body

345

of citizens who can elect people to represent them and to get rid of pro-Western and authoritarian governments and monarchies. However, any political initiatives, such as electing government officials who are not pro-West or moving toward economic self-sufficiency, based in Islamism or Socialism are opposed by the West. Social initiatives from the West, feminism, or liberalism threaten the politics of the East and are in turn rejected by strict Muslim leaders, authoritarian governments, and traditionalists. These battles, cultural and political, invariably end up affecting Muslim women and their status and rights. A good example is the Islamic revolution in Iran that overthrew the pro-Western monarchy and created the professed Islamic republic. The new system was openly against Westernization at the same time that it closed many doors to women by a political system with overly misogynous policies. Nevertheless, Iranian women using Islamic ideology made impressive progress in terms of relationship issues with men, social issues in their communities, and political issues with the government, but in the U.S. media, they were portrayed as being ineffective and powerless. My dissertation project was my attempt to actively challenge this notion by studying the relationship between stress and satisfaction in Iranian couples’ relationship. My plan was to examine the contradictions and complexities of Iranian men and women’s lives. “It is like comparing apples and oranges!” This feedback I received from my dissertation committee and then the university internal review board when they reviewed my dissertation proposal. My plan was to use the multisystem assessment of stress and health (MASH) developed by Olson and Stewart (1990). This model focuses on stress, coping resources, and satisfaction of individuals at the personal, couple, family, and work level. My intention was to determine if this model could also predict the relationship between stress and satisfaction among Iranian couples by examining the impact of coping and systemic resources as mediating variables between stress and satisfaction. My committee argued that Iranian couples do not experience equal partnerships in marriage and using terminologies such as cohesion, flexibility, and communication may not even be relevant for Iranian couples due to their Islamic ideologies that constructed nonnegotiable and extremely hierarchical marital relationships. Nevertheless, my data analysis revealed that stress

346

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

has strong effects on adaptation and satisfaction in all four areas of life (i.e., personal, couple, family, and work) for both men and women. The findings also revealed that couple and family coping resources (problem solving and communication) and couple and family systems (cohesion and flexibility) were highly correlated for both men and women, and Iranian men and women did not significantly differ with respect to personal issues or work stress. There were no significant gender effects on personal, couple, family, and work satisfaction; communication; problem solving; cohesion; or flexibility (Daneshpour, 2004a). The same correlations existed when the same model was used with women living in Norway (Piper, 1995) and the United States (Stewart, 1988). To me, the findings indicated that Iranian women deal with the same relationship issues that are pertinent to Western women. Iranian women do want and demand the same rights in their marital relationships despite the fact that they are Muslims, and Islamic Shari’a tries to define their experiences in their marital relationship. When I presented the findings of this study in Iran, many women claimed that if other Iranian women have been successful in renegotiating hierarchies in their marital relationships, they are empowered to do the same thing. It also seemed to inspire many men to understand that relationship stress affects every person in the relationship and a happy marriage brings satisfaction for both husband and wife. The challenges and obstacles I faced during this entire process were so immense and the findings were so contrary to what was expected that it changed my whole outlook on my professional aspirations subsequent to receiving my doctorate. Before finishing my degree, my plan was to return to Iran with my family, start a career as a university professor teaching marriage and family therapy courses, and manage a small practice on the side. Instead, I decided that there are plenty of professional woman in Iran who can provide these services and that I needed to stay in the United States and try to decolonize people’s preconceived notions about Muslim women as a category of people. I had to represent other Muslim woman like myself who also have many personal stories, choices, and alternatives. My choice to stay portrayed my decision to create an alternate image than what has been painted on this side of the world of the veiled, downtrodden Muslim woman. I would use my

postmodern Muslim feminist identity to try to break the stereotypes about Muslim women, one idea and one person at a time. I was going to emphasize the dialectics, margins, borders, and spaces in between that Islamic feminists and activists like me have occupied for some time. I planned to reject grand narratives about Muslim woman in favor of mininarratives, stories that explain small practices, local events, rather than large-scale universal or global concepts (Flax, 1990). The work of Muslim women like myself as we struggle for equality, as well as the activism and writing of Islamic feminist scholars, serves as key examples of such situated mininarratives. Eventually, it became evident that living completely out of my own comfort zone in a country that is not very friendly to my kind was to be the norm of my everyday living. It seemed like my colleagues could write, show concern, and be troubled about the status of women in the other part of the world but seeing one of these women step out of the literature pages they inked onto grounds where she can make a difference was a concept they found difficult to digest. Perhaps, my colleagues were continuing to use colonial discourses to equate the “colonized” with “me,” creating essentialist and monolithic categories that suppress issues of diversity, conflict, and multiplicity within these categories (Grewal & Kaplan, 2002). Thus, once again, a postmodernist lens integrated with my Muslim feminist identity became an immensely powerful tool for my feminist praxis when I decided to publish an article pertaining to family therapy with Muslim families, highlighting women’s rights in Islam. I believed that as a Muslim, it was my duty to draw attention to my insider’s interpretation of the status of women in Islam so that family therapists could challenge the status quo in Muslim families. Initially, in 1996, I submitted this article to the Journal of Marital and Family Therapy (JMFT). After several reviewers criticized the article for being too optimistic and naive about the status of women, the editorial board of JMFT decided that although the article had no technical or methodological problems, the next editor should make the definitive decision. In 1998, Dr. Froma Walsh became the editor of JMFT. Having lived in Morocco for several years, she recognized the issues discussed about women and Islam to be of importance and the article was published (Daneshpour, 1998). To date, this

26. Steadying the Tectonic Plates

has been the only article in family therapy journals about therapists working with Muslim families. Over the past 12 years, I have based my activism on the theoretical position that theory and practice are always praxis, so my research interests and projects have primarily been grounded with my Islamic ideology and feminist theories. For example, based on my interest in gender dynamics, Islam, and women’s issues, I noticed that while there were many articles dealing with the intricacy of Christian/Jewish marital union, there were none about Christian/Muslim couples’ relationships. Therefore, I used my postmodernist Islamic feminist lens and wrote an article to encourage couples to reevaluate their relationships based on a better understanding of Islam and Christianity. Thus, in my study, partners were asked to discuss their relational issues as well as their spiritual journey to understand one another’s religions. The result of this qualitative study showed that since Islam and Islamic cultures were viewed negatively, partners in interfaith Christian/Muslim relationships who explored and codefined the meaning of their cultural and religious identities were more satisfied with their marital relationships as opposed to those who did not explore these issues. I encouraged several Muslim women who were Christian converts and who were struggling to understand Islamic perspectives about women to read books and articles about Islamic feminism to have a better understanding of women’s rights in Islam. The results also revealed that the exploration of each partner’s worldview and cultural biases could assist the couple in understanding some of the reasons for their relational difficulties (Daneshpour, 2002). As a feminist activist, I also volunteered to do a very controversial research project on the issue of gender and sexual abuse in Iran for the Encyclopedia of Women and Islamic Cultures (Daneshpour, 2004b). The topic was controversial because it attempted to challenge the notion that there is no sexual abuse of women and children in Islamic societies due to the combination of modesty and the segregation of sexes. This study summarized several unpublished and published studies that were done in Iran to reveal that in reality, incest and sexual abuse of women and children have a relatively high prevalence (Ibrahimi-Ghavam, 1991; Olyae-Zand, 2002). These articles used Islamic perspectives as the base to motivate lawmakers

347

to find ways in which the perpetrator could be punished and not be protected by misogynous laws. Another article attempted to provide clinical information to assist researchers, supervisors, educators, and practitioners using postmodernist and hermeneutic philosophies to understand contemporary Muslim couples’ relationships and to challenge practitioners to rethink and reinterpret their own assumptions about Muslim women (Daneshpour, 2009, a,b). I had to work hard to sell these unpopular new topics to my professional colleagues and deal with their skepticism based on their own biases about my kind. Nevertheless, my own postmodern feminist framework has only gained an audience with every successful step forward. On Being a Family Therapist For Muslim women living in the United States, negotiating identities across different cultural terrains became decidedly more challenging after the events of 9/11. Two days after the events of 9/11, my 56-year-old White male client said, “You should be detained and questioned by the FBI.” I should not have been too surprised to hear this statement from him. He was among many of my clients who knew that I am from Iran and of my recent visit back home just 2 weeks before that historic day. To him, my visit back home automatically linked me to the attack. He truly believed that all Muslims should be questioned, including his supposedly friendly and effective therapist who was helping him with his chronic anxiety. A week later, another White female client arrived wearing a T-shirt sporting Osama bin Laden’s picture. Underneath it said, “Wanted: Dead not Alive.” I couldn’t help glancing at her T-shirt while escorting her to my office. Noticing my scrutiny, she covered it and said, “Oops, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. You might actually admire the guy!” A year later, an upperclass White woman who was not suffering from any kind of paranoia or delusional thinking proclaimed her belief that all Middle Eastern men, including my father and brothers, have definite plans to kill her son—an army commander in Iraq. Recently, a middle-class White woman told me that she is highly skeptical about my ability to challenge her spouse in breaking the chain of a very painful hierarchical relationship because she assumed that I was not capable of recognizing my own “rights” as a Muslim woman.

348

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

Although these insensitive comments oftentimes came off harsh and offensive, I adamantly refused to take them personally as they led to open, yet painful conversations about Muslim women and Islam that would eventually lead to some understanding and tolerance. I could validate their preconceived notions. I had become a symbol for everything that most Americans wanted to hate and blame. Standing before them was a veiled Muslim woman explaining her Islamic heritage at the start of the evaluation session. How could she be anything but a fundamentalist and terrorist when her constant oppression and violation of rights would lead her to be an enemy of freedom and democracy? Changing such perspectives, opening minds, and developing empathy and understanding toward Muslim women—all were the products of engaging my clients with such skewed imagery of Muslim women and the culture as a whole. It was such that over time, providing therapy became a form of feminist activism for me. The majority of my clients are middle-class White families, and although it takes time for them to become comfortable with the idea of a veiled Muslim therapist, they are often amazed at my ability to understand their pain and connect to their stories. With a foundation of trust, our connections based on my clinical skills become fruitful ground for some conversations regarding gender dynamics that keep women in a subordinate position and discourages balanced family dynamics. In my work with ethnic minorities— especially multicultural interfaith couples who tend to view the majority of their relationship difficulties as the consequence of either cultural or religious differences—I have been adamant to help them recognize that the main issue is the misrepresentation and misunderstanding of the gender relations based on their culture or religion. As a consequence of this additional layer of consciousness that I carry with me to every session, my clinical work can become very exhausting and at times overwhelming. Whether I am providing therapy to upper-, middle-, or working-class American couples or families or working with traditional immigrant Muslim families, I have to reevaluate and redefine my Islamic principles. It is equally shocking to both my White American and my immigrant Muslim families to hear my socalled radical ideas about gender relations in

Islam. I have often told men and women from all different cultures that based on their socializations they are more alike than different. I share with them that while their mininarratives are highly valued, they are all influenced by socialization processes more than the predetermined biological realities, and it is simply important that they change their perspectives.

CONCLUSION There is no question that the injustice against women in Islamic countries perpetrated by the system of patriarchal power is very real. There has been more than enough pious preaching about how Islam is great for women (in an ideal world) and not enough correcting of the injustices perpetrated on the ground. In the beginning, Islam was the most revolutionary liberalization of women’s rights the civilized world has ever seen. But now, centuries later, much of the Islamic world has lost touch with its cathartic roots and has harbored some of the worst current abuses of women’s rights. Nevertheless, the colonial perception and conceptualization of Islam and Muslim women’s rights as static, unchanging, and, in fact, unchangeable, along with the White, Western feminist monolithic image of Muslim women as passive, powerless, backward, uneducated, and victimized, have simply been fuel to the fire of challenges that Muslim women face. It is such that over time, Muslim women like myself have realized that we have been used by colonialists, misunderstood by postcolonialists, undervalued by most Western feminists, and controlled by Islamic fundamentalists—all while we have been busy raising our families and contributing to our societies. In the 21st century, then, what has emerged is a global women’s movement accented by a philosophy that draws on the feminist “classics” but that also reflects the social realities and concerns of women in various parts of the world (Mojab, 1999). We have come to understand that feminism is a theoretical perspective and a practice that criticizes social and gender inequalities, seeks to transform knowledge, and aims at women’s empowerment. Fortunately, feminism has come to acknowledge that around the world women will pursue different strategies toward such empowerment and transformation (De Reus et al., 2004).

26. Steadying the Tectonic Plates

We have also come to realize that Muslim feminists have been inspired by third-wave Western feminism and postmodernism and are attentive to feminist writings from the developing world (Moghaddam, 2000). Any reading of the women’s press in Muslim countries reveals that women activists and scholars, including those who define themselves as Muslim, are aware of or familiar with postmodernism and international writings on feminism. Thus, I have come to believe that women have always suffered the consequences of gender inequalities, and feminist politics are often shaped by specific historical, political, and cultural contexts. Therefore, if feminists should be defined by their praxis rather than by a strict ideology, then Muslim feminism seems to have prospered as one type of feminism among many (Moghaddam, 2000). However, we are still painfully situated in an awkward place between Islamic fundamentalists trying to control us and neocolonial oppressors trying to emancipate us. We are struggling to stay connected to the “holy” sphere of family while latching on to the broader sphere of the professional life with all its contradictions and challenges. As for my own personal and professional journey, for many years now, I have been indeed battling several different wars and implementing many different strategies. As a family therapist and researcher, I have strived to seize both my feminist and religious identities while continuing to maintain deep connections to postmodernism and its antiessentialist perspective as the base for my feminist praxis. I also feel responsible to use the therapy room to explore Muslim women’s concerns and challenges and try to offer information about ways in which they can use their religion to be empowered and thus change their destiny. Over time, I have come to believe that Islamic feminism is a feminist discourse expressly articulated within an Islamic paradigm, behavior, and activism. It derives its understanding and mandate from the Qur’an and seeks rights and justice for women, and for men, in the totality of their existence. This belief has helped me untangle patriarchy and religion; it has also given me Islamic ways of understanding gender equality, societal opportunity, and how to hold on to my own potential. Furthermore, my exposure to Muslim women’s writings and praxis has made me recognize how Islamic feminist discourse is equally relevant and

349

highly active in my home country and other predominantly Muslim countries. It has constituted a different statement of the views of people and their understanding of and attachment to their religion and culture by attempting an Islamic articulation of gender equality. I am very encouraged that Muslim feminism has become acknowledged as a viable new option for change among all feminists. I anticipate that it may even become a center for activism and praxis that includes the uniting of both Muslim men and women to bring about better and greater changes in all Muslim countries. With this, I understand that unless we can create a paradigm shift in using postmodernism to authenticate our mininarratives as Muslim women, we continue to waver on the unsteady tectonic plates that threaten a quake beneath our determined and active journey. I refuse to loosen my footing. By representing myself as a postmodernist Muslim feminist, and allowing my own growth in the feminist world, I will remain grounded in the belief that one day, the opposing plates beneath me will settle into a land that I can walk on, as a woman, as an activist, and as a feminist with her veiled head held high.

REFERENCES Abou Bakr, O. (1999). Gender perspectives in Islamic tradition. Retrieved October 15, 2006, from www.minaret.org/gender.htm Aguilar, D. D. (1997). Lost in translation: Western feminism and Asian women. In S. Shall (Ed.), Dragon ladies: Asian American feminists breathe fire (pp. 153–165). Boston: South End Press. Ahmed, L. (1992). Women and gender in Islam: Historical roots of a modern debate. London: Yale University Press. Al Faruqi, L. (2005). Islamic traditions and the feminist movement: Confrontation or cooperation? Tanta, Egypt: Sha’raw Press. Badran, M. (2002). Islamic feminism: What’s in a name? Al Ahram Weekly Online, 569, 17–23. Retrieved October 15, 2006, from http://weekly.ahram.org.eg/2002/ 569/cu1.htm Daneshpour, M. (1998). Muslim families and family therapy. Journal of Marital and Family Therapy, 24, 287–300. Daneshpour, M. (2002). Lives together, worlds apart? Lives of multicultural Muslim couples. Journal of Couples Relationship, 2, 57–71. Daneshpour, M. (2004a). Stress and adaptation among Iranian families: A multisystem model of personal, couple, family, and work system. Journal of Family Psychology and Family Therapy, 4, 34–54. Daneshpour, M. (2004b). Women, gender and child sexual abuse inside and outside family: Iran. Encyclopedia of women and Islamic cultures. Leiden, the Netherlands: Brill. Daneshpour, M. (2009a). Bridges crossed, paths traveled: Muslim intercultural couples. In T. A. Karis & K. D. Killian (Eds.), Intercultural couples: Exploring diversity in intimate relationships (pp. 207-229). New York: Routledge. Daneshpour, M. (2009b). Couple therapy with Muslims: Challenges and opportunities. In M. Rastogi & T. Volker (Eds.), Couple therapy with ethnic minorities (pp. 10–21). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

350

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

De Reus, L., Few, A., & Blume, L. (2004). Theorizing identities and intersectionalities: Third-wave feminism, critical race theory, and families. In V. L. Bengtson, A. Acock, K. Allen, P. Dilworth-Anderson, & D. Klein (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theory and research (pp. 447–469). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Flax, J. (1990). Postmodernism and gender relations in feminist theory. In L. Nicholson (Ed.), Feminism/postmodernism (pp. 39–62). London: Routledge. Grewal, I., & Kaplan, C. (2002). Scattered hegemonies: Postmodernity and transnational feminist practices. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Haifa, R. (1996). Muslim women between tradition and modernity: The Islamic response. Journal of Muslim Minority Affairs, 16, 99–110. Hassan, R. (1999). Feminism in Islam. In A. Sharma & K. Young (Eds.), Feminism and world religions (pp. 248–278). Albany: State University of New York Press. Ibrahimi-Ghavam, S. (1991). Study on the level of anxiety and self esteem among victims of sexual abuse. Unpublished manuscript. Malti-Douglas, F. (1991). Women’s body, women’s world: Gender and discourse in Arab Islamic writing. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Mernissi, F. (1987). Beyond the veil: Male-female dynamics in modern Muslim society (Rev. ed.). Bloomington: Indiana University Press.

Moghaddam, V. (2000). Transnational feminist networks: Collective action in an era of globalization. International Sociology, 15, 57–84. Moghissi, H. (1999). Feminism and Islamic fundamentalism: The limits of postmodern analysis. New York: Zed Books. Mohanty, C. T. (1995). Under Western eyes: Feminist scholarship and colonial discourses. In B. Ashcroft, G. Griffiths, & H. Tiffin (Eds.), The Postcolonial Studies Reader (pp. 259–263). London: Routledge. Mojab, S. (1999). Women undertaking Ijtehad: Hoping for a feminizing democracy (in Persian). Arash, 70, 48–52. Olson, D., & Stewart, K. L. (1990). Multisystem assessment of health and stress: Model and the health and stress profile. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Minnesota, St. Paul. Olyae-Zand, S. (2002). Unsuitable marriage: A fundamental ground for prostitution. Journal of Scientific Research on Social Welfare, 2, 40–55. Piper, J. (1995). Clergywomen and work. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Minnesota, St. Paul. Sandoval, C. (2000). Methodology of the oppressed. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Stewart, K. L. (1988). Stress and adaptation: A multisystem model of individual, couple, family, and work systems (Doctoral dissertation, University of Minnesota, St. Paul, 1988). Dissertation Abstracts International, 49(8A), 2410.

27 KEEPING THE FEMINIST IN OUR TEACHING Daring to Make a Difference K ATHERINE R. A LLEN

F

eminist teaching involves living the politics of how we theorize educational and social relations among learners. Unlike the hierarchy demanded in patriarchal “manmade” pedagogy, feminist teaching builds spaces to share authority and power for all participants to work together to create communities of meaning and action (Fisher, 2001; Sanchez-Casal & Macdonald, 2002). Feminist teaching is participatory and relational, providing class members, broadly defined, opportunities to engage in selfreflexive and communal ways of critiquing and constructing knowledge (Blaisure & Koivunen, 2003). Feminist teaching is radical because it removes the boundary between students’ lives and the world “out there” (Sanchez-Casal & Macdonald, 2002). To help students make the connection between individual lives and institutional structures, feminist teaching remaps pedagogical boundaries to facilitate student learning to confront injustice and work toward social change (Boler & Allen, 2002; Hernandez, 1997). Yet feminist teaching is also in danger of being eclipsed and even erased due to pressures

internal and external to feminist theory and practice (Leonard, 2006). Feminist scholarship about the constructed nature of social identities has called into question feminist pedagogies that privilege experience-based knowledge claims as the primary way to teach (Sanchez-Casal & Macdonald, 2002). Academic institutions are “disciplining” women and feminism (MesserDavidow, 2002). At the same time, academic institutions are co-opting the transformative strategies of radical feminist and antiracist teachers and curricula, thereby providing the illusion of institutional change, yet merely reproducing existing power inequalities (Das Gupta, 2003; Lorde, 1984). In this chapter, I address these ideas about the nature of and challenges to feminist teaching. I draw on antiracist feminist scholarship, global perspectives, and my own experience in feminist classrooms to make a case for keeping the feminist in teaching despite epistemological and institutional constraints in order to facilitate students’ knowledge about the differences they live and the differences they can make.

351

352

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

FEMINIST CONSCIOUSNESS AND CRITICAL PEDAGOGY Feminist teaching emerged from several radical and progressive influences, taking shape in the second half of the 20th century (Lather, 1991; Maher & Tetreault, 1994). The feminist teaching strategies of sitting in a circle, giving voice to personal experience, and organizing around collective experience for the goal of social change derived in part from consciousnessraising (CR) groups of the second wave of the Women’s Liberation Movement (Fisher, 2001). CR groups provided informal discussions where women could “speak bitterness” about their feelings, ideas, and actions as a sexually objectified and devalued class with limited opportunities in a sexist society (see Morgan, 1970). In CR groups, women realized that power worked within and through personal relations; the family and sexuality were primary examples. As they described their common, yet previously unspoken, experiences of rape, illegal abortions, unwanted pregnancies, lesbian desires, the dilemmas of child care, and the tyranny of housework, they came to see that the “personal is political” (Freedman, 2002). Critical pedagogy is another major influence on the emergence of feminist teaching. Critical pedagogy is grounded in the impassioned philosophy and liberatory teaching practice of Paulo Freire (1997), whose perspective on education “had as much to do with the teachable heart as it did with the mind” (Kincheloe, 2004, p. 3). Liberatory teaching requires of practitioners an awakened awareness—conscientization, defined as “learning to perceive social, political, and economic contradictions, and to take action against the oppressive elements of reality” (Freire, 1997, p. 17). Themes associated with critical pedagogy include (a) a social and educational vision and action plan for justice and equality; (b) a belief that education is political, where the hidden politics of what is defined as “neutral” must be exposed; (c) a concern for alleviating the human suffering of people oppressed in everyday life; (d) an inclusive curriculum that does not harm marginalized students; (e) a dialectical perspective on authority where the teacher’s sole authority as provider of the “truth” is replaced by pedagogical practices that engage students in

learning how to produce their own knowledge; (f) the use of teaching as participatory action research, where teachers use methods such as diaries, interviews, and dialogues with students to research and improve their teaching practices (Kincheloe, 2004). When truly grounded in Freire’s conception of “education as a practice of freedom,” critical pedagogy is a way of teaching that offers texts and contact with the real world to disrupt students’ ways of thinking about and living in the world (Glass, 2004). Indeed, Glass tells his students that he expects them “to be moved in some profound way by what we discover and do together in the process of investigating the course topics. I explicitly tell students on the first day of class that insofar as they participate fully in the class, they will never be the same” (p. 28). Critical pedagogy involves struggle for knowledge and struggle for social change. What makes feminist pedagogy unique, however, is its focus on “the particular needs of women students and its grounding in feminist theory as the basis for its multidimensional and positional view of the construction of classroom knowledge” (Maher & Tetreault, 1994, p. 9). Feminist teaching is rooted in passionate scholarship, an engagement with knowledge where the student’s subjectivity, ideas, and lived experiences are inseparable from the knowledge that is produced and known (Du Bois, 1983). The feminist pedagogy model (e.g., sharing power with students, incorporating students’ experiences into the learning process) is effective not only for students but also for women teachers (Statham, Richardson, & Cook, 1991). Initially, feminist pedagogy contributed a critique of sexist, racist, and classist curricula (e.g., the absence or deficit portrayal of women and racial-ethnic groups in textbooks) as well traditional hierarchical teaching practices (Weiler, 1988). Feminist activism in the classroom (e.g., teaching) also led the way to the development of women’s studies as an academic discipline for both high schools and colleges (Weiler). Historically, then, feminist classrooms have been one of the few locations in the academy where students could find a participatory space for sharing knowledge and making the connection between the ideas they learned in college and those they learned as they lived in the world (hooks, 1994).

27. Keeping the Feminist in Our Teaching

DECENTERING PRIVILEGE AND OPPRESSION But who are these students, and what is this world? These are among the central questions alive in discussions about feminist teaching today. In earlier days of feminist scholarship, feminist classrooms constructed women’s lives primarily in monolithic terms, attending only to the sexism encountered by the most privileged members of society and within the most privileged regions of the world (e.g., elite White undergraduate women in Western societies) (Maher & Tetreault, 1994). Except for their gender, White, middle-class, educated, heterosexual, young, able-bodied women from the First World were most closely aligned with the mythical norm against which all others are judged and thus most able to benefit from the institutional and personal power that accrues to those who possess these characteristics (Lorde, 1984). Their “sisters” outside this circle of privilege—working class, poor, international, disabled, racial-ethnic minority, lesbian—individually and sometimes collectively challenged the naming of subject and “other.” Audre Lorde’s (1984) Sister Outsider, in which she deconstructed and exposed the simplistic oppositions that position those whose lives mirror the mythical norm as dominant and superior and those who do not as subordinate and inferior, was one of the key texts in identifying the exclusion of “others” from critical analyses of oppression in the women’s studies canon. For example, Lorde explained that “as white women ignore their built-in privilege of whiteness and define woman in terms of their own experience alone, then women of Color become ‘other,’ the outsider whose experience and tradition is too ‘alien to comprehend’” (p. 117). Linked to the mythical norm, the family studies field still privileges the traditional family model of two heterosexual parents in a lifelong marriage, “unbroken” by divorce, raising their children together in the same home. Despite documentation that variations do exist and that children can be reared successfully in diverse arrangements (e.g., single-parent families, twoparent gay or lesbian families), Amato (2004) observes that family research clearly tips the “evidence” in favor of the standard bearer: the original family unit. Furthermore, as Collins (2000) explains, the idealized language of the nuclear family reproduces hegemonic masculinity,

353

heterosexism, White racial superiority, youth, marital legitimacy, and the like. It silences other forms of oppression—the violence against racial-ethnic and abused women—and renders the experiences of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender individuals and families invisible. The alleged “truth” of the traditional family and the notion of unmitigated evidence supporting its claims can be challenged by global feminist theorizing. The shift in perspectives from nationalism to transnationalism exposes the depiction of “the traditional family model” as specific to a particular point in time in U.S. history and not a universal phenomenon. In the traditional family model, women are positioned as subordinate to men. This conceptualization affects how gender and power are studied in families, even when women’s economic progress in marriage is under investigation, as in the case of changes in the incidence of dual-earner couples (Raley, Mattingly, & Bianchi, 2006). Yet looking at the issue of women’s economic viability from a global perspective of feminist empowerment, women’s experiences are placed in the center of vision as economic agents for their own lives. By shifting the lens away from the traditional, nuclear-family model with a male head, or married parents at the helm, a global feminist perspective suggests ways to view women’s lives in historically situated ways. Taking into account women’s perceptions of their own experiences within transnational contexts, and not from a top-down imposition of a monolithic version of family, has the potential to lead to more effective organizational change and real assistance to women and their families (Alexander & Mohanty, 1997). Related to the call for analyses that recognize the interlocking systems of oppression are calls for integrative curricula that avoid reproducing traditional divisions of labor established in the academy. Without a systematic dismantling of disciplinary boundaries, we will continue to contribute to the additive approach to oppression and opportunity, allowing women’s studies to do gender; queer studies to do sexual orientation; race and ethnic studies to do race; and many traditional disciplines to do none of these at all (Das Gupta, 2003; Puri, 2002). Kaye/ Kantrowitz (2002) conceptualizes the additive approach of offering courses on “this or that group of women,” as “conceiving of Women’s

354

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

Studies as an annex or ladies room for the traditional disciplines” (p. 282). The separatist approach among disciplinary “minority” groups fosters dissention rather than facilitation of the collective action needed for institutional change. Puri (2002) calls for a transnational, global approach to the social and cultural conditions under which we see the proliferation of different and interrelated identities in disparate social contexts. A transnational feminist perspective allows us to reconceptualize structural subordination of all kinds, displace the United States from its central position as the most advanced nation in the world, and replace the additive approach with an intersectional one. Of course, taking a transnational approach is fraught with tensions, including the teacher’s lack of knowledge about other cultures, and the lack of disciplinary knowledge to draw from. Although the use of narrative accounts from other cultures is a way to reveal the complexity of situations beyond Western contexts, there is a risk of exoticizing other societies (Said, 1978). At the same time, there is the risk of denying the historical tensions in the national setting, such as the unique legacies of racism, classism, and sexism (Dill, McLaughlin, & Nieves, 2007). To account for these and other dilemmas, many of us must engage in the new interdisciplinary feminist scholarship, learn new teaching strategies, and take a multipronged approach to transforming our pedagogy.

IDENTITIES AS MULTIPLE, UNSTABLE, AND CONCRETELY LIVED: CRITICAL REALIST APPROACH How feminists conceptualize and operationalize “difference” is at the heart of feminist theory and practice. The issue is extremely complex, not reducible to questions of whether women are a “class” in and of themselves, whether they need to be classified under identifiable subgroups on the basis of identities (e.g., race, ethnicity, sexual orientation), or whether gender does not matter because the self is discursively constituted and thus unstable or unknowable. Clegg (2006) explores the complexity of these debates as they are emerging in contemporary feminist scholarship. Among second-wave feminists, there is a major focus on the politics of identity, agency,

and activism; among third-wave feminists, there is a major focus on the process of theorizing about the fictional self. Embracing a criticalrealist approach, Clegg reminds us that although there are significant differences among women and women’s own identities are fluid, their oppressions are concretely lived. Thus, people do have agency to act collectively to change the conditions that produce the injustices under which they live. Feminism is a radical social project with an emancipatory impulse that inspires social movement. Recognizing that identities can be multiple, fluid, and concrete requires new ways of teaching about differences in feminist classrooms. Sanchez-Casal and Macdonald (2002) observe that feminist scholarship is ahead of feminist pedagogical practices in handling these new perspectives on differences. It is not enough to encourage students to share their personal experiences in class, because experience must be historicized, not essentialized. I agree that in my own teaching practice, my ability to use new methods has lagged behind my ability to use new theories. And once again, as I have found in my previous attempts to incorporate feminist theory into teaching practice (e.g., Allen, Floyd-Thomas, & Gillman, 2001; Boler & Allen, 2002), the pathway to change is through confronting my sense of vulnerability in the face of oppression and finding a way to respond with insight and action.

ON THE TEACHER’S VULNERABILITY My feminist teaching is often an experience with the tension between vulnerability and agency. Revealing to students ways in which I feel vulnerable as well as telling stories that elaborate how power operates to control or empower is a primary teaching strategy I use. It is a way to both draw students in (i.e., capture their attention) and model for students how to have insight into others’ circumstances (including my own) and the structural constraints shaping their lives. As a feminist, I believe that the tension between vulnerability and exercising power (i.e., taking agentic action) is at the core of most structural and personal relations. It is a way to conceptualize the relationship of oppression and privilege as intersectional. And this relationship forces me to continually reflect on how the

27. Keeping the Feminist in Our Teaching

tension between vulnerability and power enters into my relations with learners in the classroom. For example, as a feminist teacher, I believe in power sharing with students, which often makes me vulnerable to sharing too much of my own life and learning too much about theirs—knowledge that I must be ready to hear and thus handle with care. But as a professor, I recognize the power and responsibility conferred on me by the institution to teach and evaluate students. My tension-filled relationships with power and vulnerability are often at odds, but the discomfort keeps me in dialogue with myself, with my students, and with my peers and forces me to search the literature for new knowledge about how others have handled such dilemmas (Allen et al., 2001). I constantly fight my desire to take over classroom conversations. Telling too many stories, taking too much responsibility for interpreting and explaining concepts in the readings, and digressing about ideas the students share are my weaknesses and reveal the ways in which my vulnerability and my power in the classroom chafe against each other. This tension requires constant reflection and monitoring. I have to accept that this is an enduring part of who I am and that it is highly resistant to change. But I can come to see it more clearly and embrace it more deeply. The issue is not about managing classroom conversations but about creating classroom communities in which authority is dispersed through shifting communities of knowers (e.g., communities of meaning), where the negotiated differences among us and within us become the subject in our classes (Sanchez-Casal & Macdonald, 2002). Without monitoring my own tensions, and guiding students away from “a science that watches the world from the sidelines” (Gergen & Gergen, 2003), my liberatory feminist classroom is in danger of devolving into “a domestication of Freire’s theory, overlooking the praxis that is essential to dialogue and the struggle for freedom” (Glass, 2004, p. 17). Many feminist scholars identify the value of using feminist research methods in feminist classrooms. Kleinman (2003) describes the synergy of her development as a qualitative methodologist whose fieldwork and commitment to radical action “partly emerged from and changed my teaching” (p. 221). In describing a course on feminist methods, Cook and Fonow (2007) say that they use feminist insights to theorize about the conduct of inquiry and that in

355

the process, this theorizing opens new paths of discovery. Maher and Tetreault (1994) describe the parallels between a methodology and a pedagogy of positionality. Sanchez-Casal and Macdonald (2002) say that we have to learn from the new theories of intersectional identity developed by antiracist feminist scholars about the validity of cultural identity as a site of oppression at the same time that it challenges the wholesale validity of experience. Mohanty (1994) explains that difference is not merely personal or individual experience, but historical, contingent, and the result of interpretation. A feminist teacher “can work to embody this theory in the classroom by modeling for students the historical contingency of her experience and its epistemic and political relevance” (SanchezCasal & Macdonald, 2002, p. 9). I have used the feeling of discomfort in the classroom as a way to remind myself that students, too, feel vulnerable. One way in which I think students feel vulnerable is in being evaluated. Being graded and feeling the pressure for a good grade makes for an anxious classroom, so I have worked hard to empower students by using strategies such as making assignments clear, giving later due dates, providing detailed instructions, offering extensive editorial and substantive feedback, and having writing workshops in and out of class. Over time, my perspective of this notion of student vulnerability has also changed. That is, as the years of teaching have accumulated, so have my insights about my experiences and theirs. For example, I now think that students do not fear my judgment as much as I once thought. Instead, they seem to be more afraid of looking “stupid” (a word I often hear from them) in front of their peers. I consider at least two lessons from this observation: First, I can certainly relate to this fear of feeling stupid. It has dogged me my whole life. Second, I am becoming invisible to students. But why? Perhaps it has something to do with teaching a large undergraduate course on human sexuality and feeling as if the performative aspects of teaching are more on display than in what have been safer environments for me: small, intimate classrooms. Thus, the opportunities to feel stupid, embarrassed, inadequate, and unknowing, in front of an expansive audience, abound. Reflecting on this disempowering stance, I think this current experience of vulnerability

356

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

has several sources. Both the sources and the solutions to this vulnerability are linked to my feminist teaching praxis. Although I have long studied intersectionality and reflexively considered my own intersecting identities, I have not felt prepared for the creeping sense of invisibility that middle age provides. Now in my mid-50s, I feel vulnerable in new ways—aware that I am older than nearly all my undergraduate students’ parents, given that I teach at a university with the traditional college demographic (students aged 18 through 24). I feel as if I am aging in front of their very eyes. I remind myself, of course, of the limitations of personal experience and its interpretation, as I reflect back to my first semester of teaching 25 years ago. The student evaluations were particularly devastating in a doctoral class I taught, where I was younger than all my students. One of the anonymous student comments at the end of the course said, “New PhDs should never be allowed to teach doctoral students.” So much for ageism.

ENVISIONING OLDER WOMEN Feeling invisible as a woman who is aging, however, is no more apparent than when I teach the 250 students in my human sexuality class about adult sexual relationships. In addition to providing theoretical perspectives and empirical research about older-adult relationships in global contexts, I also show a feminist film titled, Still Doing It: The Intimate Lives of Women Over 65 (Fishel, 2004). The idea to show this film came after observing my students’ reaction to a guest lecturer’s presentation on sexual anatomy and sexual response, where adults across the life span were depicted in sexually responsive ways. When adults with any trace of gray hair were shown as aroused or in a sexual embrace, students in this large class of several hundred groaned, or worse, laughed, in unison. Furthermore, when the guest lecturer asked if any of the students thought of their parents as having sex, some smiled and laughed a little. When the lecturer asked if any of them thought their grandparents were still having sex, the groans and laughter were deafening. I chose this film because it tells nine women’s stories of sexual desire and life experience. Some of the stories are visually graphic and all are

deeply honest and moving. Included are women from ages 67 to 87, single, married, widowed, heterosexual, lesbian, Black, White, employed, retired, able-bodied, disabled (one woman is blind), living independently, or living in an assisted living facility. Some of their partners, friends, children, and grandchildren are also interviewed. In addition to contemporary life, photographs from their childhood, youth, and young adulthood are shown. After I show the film, I ask my students to reflect on and write about the following questions, and then I engage them in discussion as a class: What new ideas about old women are generated from viewing the film? What is sexy about old women? What is sexy about sex after 65? What messages did the women convey about their own bodies? What can younger people learn from older women about sexuality and intimacy? What have you learned about your own comfort level in discussing issues of women, sexuality, and aging in an open forum from viewing this film with others? Among their many and varied responses, they report with answers ranging from no change in their opinions to surprise that older women’s sexual desire does not go away with age. Among their responses to the last question about their own comfort level in discussing these issues in class, two male student responses are typical of the range of low to modest comfort (Allen & Roberto, 2008): I have learned that I have a very low comfort level with this subject. In part because I have never seen anything on this subject. I feel a secret comfort, but I have always known that women of any age have desires and needs, sexually or intimately and to remain modest would be denying their identity of being comfortable in one’s own skin. To see women taking all kinds of pleasure and joy rather than taking it for granted might be perceived as desperate, but it is because they are at a level where they can see the joys without caring about other’s perception. Life is too short to conform to modesty and deny being in love or intimate with anyone.

The film has segments that stir me as well by reminding me of my own youth and a time of sexual awakening. It was 1972 and I was a college freshman. I was just getting introduced to feminist activism and discourse. I attended a lecture by Betty Dodson in which she was discussing the

27. Keeping the Feminist in Our Teaching

topic of her workshops and book, Liberating Masturbation (reissued as Sex for One, Dodson, 1996). Returning to the present moment, Betty Dodson is one of the nine women in the Still Doing It film, and she is as vibrant as ever. The film depicts her, at age 69, with her 26-year-old lover and tells the story of how he pursued her. She describes her vulnerability in having such an attractive young lover and feeling insecure about her body in relation to his. He says that his only concern is if she continues to worry in this way— it might affect their time together. (I checked her Web site and it says that they are still together.) The film also tells the story and shows photographs of her involvement in the early days of the “sexual revolution.” Now I can put this time in context. I only learned about my own body and sexual responsiveness through a painful history of trial and error. But without Betty Dodson, I would have had a difficult time even saying masturbation, and I know from teaching thousands of undergraduate students that it is not a word that is on the tips of their tongues either. Although they begin the film with groans and laughter, an experience I interpret as signaling our differences and rendering me an invisible other, by the end, most describe themselves as informed and reflective. Many are also empowered by the lessons in these nine women’s lives. I, too, connect with my students in the early 21st century across the intergenerational divide through this feminist teaching experience. I put myself in their shoes—my younger self, while we watch this film, and then, as my aging self, their teacher, as I ask them to reflect on older women talking about and acting on their sexual desire. Two women students said, I feel like it was comforting to see that other people around me had the same reactions that I did and I was impressed because I thought many more would act disgusted. Instead of feeling disgusted, I’m leaving with a little more pride and confidence in my womanhood. By learning about this in a classroom, I think it made the movie’s point hit home and appreciate it as a real issue.

Although awareness of personal vulnerability is an important touchstone for my feminist teaching praxis, such fear of invisibility and denigration is only the first step. As a feminist practitioner, I have to do something with this embodied knowledge. My colleague, April Few,

357

who originally taught this class, took the initiative to transform the class into a global issues curriculum. My earlier knowledge about human sexuality was oriented in family studies and women’s studies scholarship, with a decidedly U.S. perspective. In teaching the global issues human sexuality class, I needed to accomplish several goals: learn new content about global sexualities; learn to use technology for teaching and managing large classes; and adapt my feminist methods of power sharing, circle sitting, and participatory discussion-based learning into strategies that reflected current feminist scholarship and fit with the large classroom environment. Now, as I faced the large classroom with only a handful of majors from my own discipline, I had several stark realizations. I had developed my feminist approach to power sharing and circle sitting mainly to establish my own comfort level in the classroom and to try to equalize the process of reflexive self-disclosure. But not only was power sharing in the old ways less possible in the new environment, it was also critiqued in the new feminist scholarship on teaching. Antiracist feminist and liberatory scholars were questioning the issue of experience-based knowledge as the privileged site of authority in the classroom (Boler, 2004). That is, essentialist theories about identity (e.g., a lesbian perspective, a Black perspective, a White woman’s perspective) derived from second-wave feminism presumed a direct correspondence between experience and the production of knowledge. The practical implication is that a lesbian student is asked to speak for “her people,” allegedly all lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer people. At the same time, this essentialism skirts the issue that people with oppressed standpoints can also produce“inaccurate knowledge”(Sanchez-Casal & Macdonald, 2002, p. 4). Relying on students’ personal insights as reflexive responses in a class of 250, particularly about controversial subject matter, without further preparation and revision of my typical feminist teaching style, would be irresponsible. Not only was the content of the course global, so that various cultural practices and contexts would be described and compared, but students from multiple countries and diverse cultures were also enrolled in the class. I was in danger of relying on the sole student, for example, from Pakistan, to speak for all people in his culture. And without a thorough grounding in global perspectives, another danger is to neglect

358

PART IV. FEMINIST THEORY INTO ACTION

the importance of placing knowledge of cultures other than ones I have familiarity with in historical and experiential context (Mohanty, 1994) lest I reproduce the problem of exoticizing difference. For example, it is important to discuss human sex trafficking as a global issue within a patriarchal, economic context that is historically situated and contemporary, occurring in the United States as well as in all countries throughout the world as well as cyberspace (Altman, 2001). Transferring knowledge within an environment of trust and care is part of feminist teaching practice that has stood the test of time. Feminist classrooms used to be one of the only ways for students to have this participatory education. But hooks (1994) says that feminist teachers must be even more committed to exploring new pedagogical strategies that incorporate an ethic of the spirit, what she calls an engaged pedagogy. Grumet (1988) describes the choice we have as feminist teachers to approach the curriculum as a No Trespassing sign “that denies access, enforces distance, and walls off the world” (p. 116). But there are so many more possibilities when we see the curriculum as alive: “It requires seeing others and being seen, without being reduced to our images” (p. 116).

CONCLUSION As an undergraduate student, I used to stay up late at night, drinking wine, smoking cigarettes, listening to women’s music, writing poetry, and reading feminist manifestos. One of my favorite books was Robin Morgan’s (1972) Monster, “I want a women’s revolution like a lover, I lust for it.” That was back in the early 1970s, and I can still say, I want a women’s revolution like a lover. On my bad days, I feel the need to fit in, toe the line, be quiet and nice. But on my good days, I remember the poem and lust for change; I feel empowered to bring the passion for insurrection into the classroom. I have come to respect that certain silences are necessary, but I will not be silent for long. hooks (1994) describes an engaged pedagogy, with a holistic teaching approach that links mind, body, and spirit. Students want knowledge not just about books but about how to live in the world. Students want to be challenged, awakened, and turned on beyond the media

that grabs for their attention. I remind myself that I have decades of knowledge, wisdom, and experience to share; I also have group facilitation skills with which to foster their engagement with texts and with each other. Some of the most fascinating learning tools are stories and facts about the lives and struggles of people around the world; it is my job to teach students how to access and evaluate that information and to nurture their own desire for involvement in a world beyond their own four walls. Other feminists are leaving the family (Grumet, 1988, p. 64), but the family is what has always captured my imagination. When I enter a classroom, I can’t wait to engage this passion with students and hear what they have to say.

REFERENCES Alexander, M. J., & Mohanty, C. T. (1997). Introduction: Genealogies, legacies, movements. In M. J. Alexander & C. T. Mohanty (Eds.), Feminist genealogies, colonial legacies, democratic futures (pp. xiii–xlii). New York: Routledge. Allen, K. R., Floyd-Thomas, S. M., & Gillman, L. (2001). Teaching to transform: From volatility to solidarity in an interdisciplinary family studies classroom. Family Relations, 50, 317–325. Allen, K. R., & Roberto, K. A. (2008). What’s sexy about older women? Young adults’ perspectives. Unpublished manuscript. Altman, D. (2001). Global sex. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Amato, P. R. (2004). Tension between institutional and individual views of marriage. Journal of Marriage and Family, 66, 959–965. Blaisure, K. R., & Koivunen, J. M. (2003). Family science faculty members’ experiences with teaching from a feminist perspective. Family Relations, 52, 22–32. Boler, M. (2004). All speech is not free: The ethics of “affirmative action pedagogy.” In M. Boler (Ed.), Democratic dialogue in education: Troubling speech, disturbing silence (pp. 3–13). New York: Peter Lang. Boler, M., & Allen, K. R. (2002). Whose naming whom: Using independent video to teach about the politics of representation. Women’s Studies Quarterly, 30, 255–270. Clegg, S. (2006). The problem of agency in feminism: A critical realist approach. Gender and Education, 18, 309–324. Collins, P. H. (2000). It’s all in the family: Intersections of gender, race, and nation. In U. Narayan & S. Harding (Eds.), Decentering the center: Philosophy for a multicultural, postcolonial, and feminist world (pp. 156–176). Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Cook, J. A., & Fonow, M. M. (2007). A passion for knowledge: The teaching of feminist methodology. In S. N. Hesse-Biber (Ed.), Handbook of feminist research: Theory and praxis (pp. 705–711). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Das Gupta, T. (2003). Teaching anti-racist research in the academy. Teaching Sociology, 31, 456–468. Dill, B. T., McLaughlin, A. E., & Nieves, A. D. (2007). Future directions of feminist research: Intersectionality. In S. N. Hesse-Biber (Ed.), Handbook of feminist research: Theory and praxis (pp. 629–637). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Dodson, B. (1996). Sex for one: The joy of selfloving. New York: Crown. Du Bois, B. (1983). Passionate scholarship: Notes on values, knowing and method in feminist social science. In G. Bowles & R. D. Klein (Eds.), Theories of women’s studies (pp. 105–116). London: Routledge.

27. Keeping the Feminist in Our Teaching Fishel, D. (Producer/Director). (2004). Still doing it: The intimate lives of women over 65 [Motion picture]. United States: New Day Films. Fisher, B. M. (2001). No angel in the classroom: Teaching through feminist discourse. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield. Freedman, E. B. (2002). No turning back: The history of feminism and the future of women. New York: Ballantine Books. Freire, P. (1997). Pedagogy of the oppressed (Rev. ed.; M. B. Ramos, Trans.). New York: Continuum. (Original work published 1970) Gergen, M. M., & Gergen, K. J. (2003). Horizons of inquiry. In M. M. Gergen & K. J. Gergen (Eds.), Social construction: A reader (pp. 59–64). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Glass, R. D. (2004). Moral and political clarity and education as a practice of freedom. In M. Boler (Ed.), Democratic dialogue in education: Troubling speech, disturbing silence (pp. 15–32). New York: Peter Lang. Grumet, M. R. (1988). Bitter milk: Women and teaching. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press. Hernandez, A. (1997). Pedagogy, democracy, and feminism: Rethinking the public sphere. Albany: State University of New York Press. hooks, b. (1994). Teaching to transgress: Education as the practice of freedom. New York: Routledge. Kaye/Kantrowitz, M. (2002). Representation, entitlement, and voyeurism: Teaching across difference. In A. A. Macdonald & S. Sanchez-Casal (Eds.), Twenty-first-century feminist classrooms: Pedagogies of identity and difference (pp. 281–298). New York: Palgrave. Kincheloe, J. L. (2004). Critical pedagogy. New York: Peter Lang. Kleinman, S. (2003). Feminist fieldworker: Connecting research, teaching, and memoir. In B. Glassner & R. Hertz (Eds.), Our studies, ourselves: Sociologists’ lives and work (pp. 215–232). New York: Oxford University Press. Lather, P. (1991). Getting smart: Feminist research and pedagogy with/in the postmodern. New York: Routledge.

359

Leonard, D. (2006). Gender, change, and education. In K. Davis, M. Evans, & J. Lorber (Eds.), Handbook of gender and women’s studies (pp. 167–182). London: Sage. Lorde, A. (1984). Sister outsider: Essays and speeches. Freedom, CA: Crossing Press. Maher, F. A., & Tetreault, M. K. T. (1994). The feminist classroom: An inside look at how professors and students are transforming higher education for a diverse society. New York: Basic Books. Messer-Davidow, E. (2002). Disciplining feminism: From social activism to academic discourse. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Mohanty, C. T. (1994). On race and voice: Challenges for liberal education in the 1990s. In H. Giroux & P. McLaren (Eds.), Between borders: Pedagogy and the politics of cultural studies (pp. 179–208). New York: Routledge. Morgan, R. (Ed.). (1970). Sisterhood is powerful. New York: Random House. Morgan, R. (1972). Monster. New York: Vintage Books. Puri, J. (2002). Nationalism has a lot to do with it! Unraveling questions of nationalism and transnationalism in lesbian/gay studies. In D. Richardson & S. Seidman (Eds.), Handbook of lesbian and gay studies (pp. 427–442). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Raley, S. B., Mattingly, M. J., & Bianchi, S. M. (2006). How dual are dual-income couples? Documenting change from 1970 to 2001. Journal of Marriage and Family, 68, 11–28. Said, E. (1978). Orientalism. London: Penguin Books. Sanchez-Casal, S., & Macdonald, A. A. (2002). Feminist reflections on the pedagogical relevance of identity. In A. A. Macdonald & S. Sanchez-Casal (Eds.), Twenty-first-century feminist classrooms: Pedagogies of identity and difference (pp. 1–28). New York: Palgrave. Statham, A., Richardson, L., & Cook, J. A. (1991). Gender and university teaching: A negotiated difference. Albany: State University of New York Press. Weiler, K. (1988). Women teaching for change: Gender, class & power. South Hadley, MA: Bergin & Garvey.

EPILOGUE A PRIL L. F EW K ATHERINE R. A LLEN S ALLY A. L LOYD

I

n this Handbook, the authors have sought to do several things in dialogue with one another, multiple bodies of literature, the editors, and the interdisciplinary audience who consider old and new concepts about family and community in different ways. They have carefully, yet boldly, demonstrated six characteristics of doing feminist family studies: 1. Families transcend ties of sanguinity, embodying different structural constellations. Due to changes in law, social policies, and reproductive technologies, families are defined by more than a biological relationship (Demo, Allen, & Fine, 2000). Some families are formed by reconfigurations of kinship (e.g., foster care, divorce, remarriage, grandparents caring for grandchildren, extended kin caring for nephews and nieces, tribal community relationships), a sense of belonging and commonality (e.g., GLBT communities and “houses,” friendships, gangs), love relationships (e.g., gay and lesbian civil unions, cohabitors), and family transitions (e.g., sibling families, younger siblings taking care of older siblings, single-parent households). 2. Family power is dynamic and operates both hierarchally and vertically among family members and kinship networks across time (Kranichfeld, 1987; Sprey, 1999). Family power is the ability of individual members to change behavior, thought, and affect of other family 360

members (and kin) by virtue of an asymmetricalbased family system. In other words, family power exists because of one’s relationship to others, not merely because of one’s personal attributes or characteristics. Family power may also change over the course of time due to life transitions (e.g., marriage, divorce, death, moving away from family unit) or life events (e.g., incapacitation, accident, illness, aging). 3. Family bonds exist, change, and are sustained across spatial, linguistic, cultural, and emotional geographies. For example, there are families spread across the globe because of employment, education, or parenting responsibilities but maintain close, emotional ties among members via information and communication technologies (e.g., Internet blogs, Web site social networking such as MySpace and Facebook, cell phones, instant messaging with Web cameras) (Wilding, 2006). In the spatial divides of land and water, members of transnational and immigrant families face challenges of negotiating and redefining their roles, responsibilities, and emotional/intimate relationships with one another (Salazar Parrenas, 2008). Additionally, as family scholars acknowledge our fluid, inextricable borders and economies with the rest of the world, we observe that studies on immigration, transnationalism, and multiculturalism increasingly have entered mainstream family studies (Parker, 2005; Skrbis, 2008).

Epilogue

4. The politics of location are discursively engaged consciously and subconsciously at multiple levels—intrapsychically, interpersonally, and globally—simultaneously (Crenshaw, 1993; Few, 2007; Moya, 2006; Sanchez, 2006). Identity is about situatedness in motion in concert with and discordant to the discourses of cultural or political majorities. Individuals make decisions based on their explicit and implicit understandings of social relationality—that is, an understanding of how one is socially located (e.g., social status) in comparison with others at the individual, group, and global levels. 5. Feminist family studies is more than integrating the literatures of two disciplines but involves the work of doing transformative, selfreflexive praxis within and beyond the safety of the ivory tower in strategic ways so as to validate the different paths of feminist family studies scholar-practitioners. One of the most provocative aspects of this Handbook is that the editors and chapter authors invite the readers to contemplate and question the authenticity of feminist/ womanist identities, the theoretical and empirical rigor in feminist methodologies, and the extent of faithfulness toward the feminist goal of empowering the lives of those who are researched. From time to time, feminist family scholars conduct a reality check as to the viability of feminism/ womanism or feminist family studies by asking, “What does it mean to be a feminist family scholar” today? (Hull, Bell-Scott, & Smith, 1982; Thompson & Walker, 1995; Walker & Thompson, 1984; Wiegman, 2002; Wills & Risman, 2006). 6. Feminist family studies scholarship must be built continually in such a way that scholarpractitioners do not “speak” past one another, thus avoiding semiotic dissonance in our family science discourses while at the same time embracing dialogic ontological and epistemological pluralism (Abend, 2008). Ontological and epistemological pluralism allows a discursive intellectual space for family scholars to consider multiple perspectives when examining and explaining the issues we study. One specific discourse is not privileged over another in an effort to advance our theorizing about family process. Having multiple perspectives does not mean that we preclude sharing the same understandings of what is meant by theory, fundamental concepts, or statistical inferences.

361

In this Handbook, feminist family studies and the identities of feminist family studies scholars are grappled with through the critical analyses of family processes across the life span, revisionist exercises in feminist theorizations about families, and the processes involved in feminist research methodologies. This Handbook finds itself sitting at a pivotal point in family studies wherein family scholars can reflect back on the pioneering work of our disciplinary feminist/womanist foremothers, can acknowledge what is being done now to sustain a viable feminist family studies, and can dare to envision a future for feminist family studies that is cohesive despite its kaleidoscopic multiplicity of perspectives.

HOW WE EMBODY THE PROCESS OF WRITING AND LIVING FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES As I (April) reflect on the process of writing this Handbook with two remarkable women—my mentors and sisters—I am emboldened with a new sense of commitment and energy for the type of praxis that reflects my own feminist/ womanist sensibilities and integrates the best of what I have learned from others who also walk a similar precarious path. Doing feminist family studies is something that, once it gets under your skin, becomes a part of your blood and your soul, inextricable from all social relationships and experiences that I engage and write. I first became a Black feminist, with one foot in womanism, in the arms of two Black feminist woman scholars, Patricia Bell-Scott and Juanita Johnson Bailey, who taught me how to think critically about people who lived and looked like me and about the power of social relationality in families, communities, and the world. They gave me books written by women scholars of color to read and invited me to rearticulate my own sense of Black or Afrocentric consciousness in my pedagogy, research, and activism. This Handbook project has been a remarkable journey for me as the “junior” faculty member in the group. I have been challenged intellectually and emotionally by Sally and Katherine in so many ways. I stand back from it all and marvel at their ability to push me and others to think further outside the box, into the great unknown. I had the wonderful opportunity to see how fearless these women warriors are, subtly and overtly. I am grateful to

362

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

both of them for asking me to join them in this unique journey as well as the chapter authors who worked diligently with me until we got to a place that was “safe,”“sound,” and agreeable to all (at least most of the time). When Sally first approached me about joining her in working on this project, I (Katherine) had no idea what was in store. I was unprepared to find my own ways of thinking about and experiencing feminism so challenged by new literatures, new scholars, and new points of view. Whatever lip service I’ve been paying to multivocality in feminist scholarship and difference in women’s lived experience was surely challenged by having my own deeply held convictions, rooted in the blinders of personal experience, upended. I could hear my inner voice saying, What do you mean, Sisterhood isn’t powerful? I’m a White woman and I think it is! At the same time, it was also disorienting to realize that feminist ideas had infiltrated academic disciplines in watered down or appropriated ways. My binary thinking—that there was this problem with patriarchy, and we (all women) had to put aside our differences and fix it—just wasn’t working anymore. Faced with a choice— withdraw from feminism or learn new ways of engaging feminist thinking and practice—I decided to cast my vote in favor of the radical potential of feminist scholarship to inspire change in the academy and in people’s lives. A bit shaky, I jumped in. I’m so glad Sally and April were already there, demonstrating in their praxis that as we make room for new voices in feminist family scholarship, we will honor where we’ve been lest others forget. The work of conceptualizing, writing, and editing a handbook with my two brilliant collaborators—Sally and April— and all our authors has been invigorating in every way. In the papers gathered for this collection, there are multiple examples of a great respect for the challenges and resilience of women and families, domestically and globally, from perspectives that decenter the mythical norm so central in our mainstream discipline. Our authors share a commitment to scholarship with the potential to change the direction of the field as well as people’s minds. All three of the editors read and provided feedback on the chapters, and we were inspired by the care with which our authors attended to our critiques. We believe that these chapters reveal the best of

feminist family scholarship. Now that April, Sally, and I have come to the epilogue, I marvel at the ways in which feminist-inspired knowledge, wisdom, and practice are alive in our field. For me (Sally), sharing my reflections in this Handbook is a delightful undertaking, as it allows me to tell all our readers of my deep admiration and respect for April and Katherine. Working together has been an incredible experience. The three of us have known each other for many years but never had the opportunity to collaborate on such a large project until we came together for this one. Even though feminism is my worldview and homeplace (as Katherine so eloquently wrote in Allen, 2001), for me these are difficult and contested spaces. The first thing that readers might think about such a statement is that I am referring to the contested place of feminism in the academy. However, I am referring more to my own internal sense of contestation— both the visions of feminism and the demands of feminist theory are challenging to “live up to.” Given the blossoming of feminist theories across so many disciplines, it is difficult if not impossible to keep up with new ideas and developments. Both the core and the boundaries of feminist theory seem to be constantly shifting— and what I thought I understood is always being transformed by the insights provided by feminist writers from around the globe, and by queer, critical race, postmodern perspectives, and transnational theoretical developments. Sometimes I envy those who have chosen as their “academic home” a nice, tightly packaged theory that is firmly rooted in a single discipline, but this envy is usually momentary, for I want to stay with my feminist sisters, even if it means my brain gets pushed around. This is why the process of working on this Handbook, with my superb coeditors, has been so important to me. It is very difficult to convey all the wonderful things that happened along the way of our 3 years working together, first on the special issue of the Journal of Family Issues and then on this edited book (this is where being an academic writer is a hindrance, for this is a time when skills in writing poetry and literature would be helpful). Synergy seems to be the word that comes up for me the most. I cannot even count how many times, when talking on the phone together or sending e-mails back and forth, that I had that tingling sense of insight—that terrific

Epilogue

feeling that happens when things come together and you have a new way of seeing things. Perhaps, this idea of “a new way of seeing things” is what best characterizes my experience on this project. I learned so much from Katherine and April—the most important of which was how to dig deeper into what I thought I already knew about feminism and family studies. It is an unparalleled experience to be able to work with two such renowned scholars and have access to their incredible intellect and creativity. I can’t tell you how many times I would receive their editorial feedback on a chapter and be in awe of their critique (they always saw things that I did not—and hopefully the joining of our three perspectives strengthened the feedback provided to help each author in the revision process) or how many times in a conversation they mentioned a chapter or article that I ran out to acquire because I knew that it would take me to a new place in my own intellectual journey. And, writing together was an equally compelling experience—we’d talk, then write, then talk and spark new ideas, and then write some more, and we know that the writing we did together reflected something unique, something that we could not have done alone. When we started this project, we were colleagues; over time, we became sisters and friends. I also learned incredible things from each of the chapter authors—new theoretical insights, new methodologies, new ways of enacting our feminist praxis. I learned something unique and exciting from every single chapter (and I now have a rather long reading list culled from the references of these 27 chapters, as I found myself going down the references and thinking, oh, I need to read this one, and this one, and this one). And from the collective, I learned that our field of feminist family studies is alive and well, continuing to push the assumptions and boundaries of family studies, and working tirelessly for our feminist visions of equity and social justice. Finally, as editors, we three appreciate the process of collaboration with each other, with our authors, and with those who will read and use this book. We want this Handbook to provide a synergistic way of seeing feminist family studies. We want to inspire others, like we have been inspired, to use the resources it contains to explore the new landscape of scholarship and praxis in our interdisciplinary field. We

363

acknowledge that there are privileges we enjoy as feminist academics—spaces to learn, write, and act on behalf of our convictions—and with those privileges come responsibilities. We offer this book in the service of the privilege and responsibility to learn, write, and act on behalf of changing our parts of the world for the better.

REFERENCES Abend, G. (2008). The meaning of theory. Sociological Theory, 26, 173–199. Allen, K. R. (2001). Feminist visions for transforming families: Desire and equality then and now. Journal of Family Issues, 22, 791–809. Crenshaw, K. (1993). Demarginalizing the interaction of race and sex: A Black feminist critique of antidiscrimination doctrine, feminist theory, and anti-racist politics. In D. Weisberg (Ed.), Feminist legal theory: Foundations (pp. 383–411). Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Demo, D. H., Allen, K. R., & Fine, M. (Eds.). (2000). Handbook of family diversity. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. Few, A. L. (2007). Integrating black consciousness and critical race feminism into family studies research. Journal of Family Issues, 28, 452–473. Hull, G. T., Bell-Scott, P. B., & Smith, B. (Eds). (1982). All the women are White, all the Blacks are men, but some of us are brave: Black women’s studies. Old Westbury, NY: Feminist Press. Kranichfeld, M. L. (1987). Rethinking family power. Journal of Family Issues, 8, 42–56. Moya, P. M. L. (2006). What’s identity got to do with it? Mobilizing identities in the multicultural classroom. In S. P. Mohanty, L. M. Alcoff, M. Hames-Garcia, & P. M. L. Moya (Eds.), Identity politics reconsidered (pp. 96–117). New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Parker, M. (2005). Remaking the American mainstream: Assimilation and contemporary immigration. Journal of Comparative Family Studies, 36, 159–161. Salazar Parrenas, R. (2008). Transnational fathering: Gendered conflicts, distant disciplining and emotional gaps. Journal of Ethnic & Migration Studies, 34(7), 1057–1072. Sanchez, R. (2006). On critical realist theory of identity. In L. M. Alcoff, M. Hames-García, S. P. Mohanty, & P. M. L. Moya (Eds.), Identity politics reconsidered (pp. 31–52). New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Skrbis, Z. (2008). Transnational families: Theorising migration, emotions and belonging. Journal of Intercultural Studies, 29, 231–246. Sprey, J. (1999). Family dynamics: An essay on conflict and power. In M. B. Sussman, S. K. Steinmetz, & G. W. Peterson (Eds.), Handbook of marriage and the family (2nd ed., pp. 667–685). New York: Plenum Press. Thompson, L., & Walker, A. J. (1995). The place of feminism in family studies. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 57, 847–865. Walker, A. J., & Thompson, L. (1984). Feminism and family studies. Journal of Family Issues, 5, 545–570. Wiegman, R. (2002). Academic feminism against itself. NWSA Journal, 14(2), 18–37. Wilding, R. (2006). “Virtual” intimacies? Families communicating across transnational contexts. Global Networks, 6(2), 125–142. Wills, J. B., & Risman, B. J. (2006). The visibility of feminist thought in family studies. Journal of Marriage and Family, 68, 690–700.

AUTHOR INDEX

Abend, G., 361 Abou Bakr, O., 342 Abraham, T., 252 Abu-Lughod, L., 257, 267, 270 Accad, E., 30 Acker, J., 184 Acock, A. C., 48, 49, 56, 62, 136, 309 Actionaid, 305, 306, 313 Adam, B. D., 44, 48 Adams, J., 167 Adams, M. A., 103, 235, 236, 240, 241, 242, 246 Adelman, M., 285 Adlakha, A., 317 Agbayani-Siewert, P., 252 Aguilar, D. D., 344, 345 Ahearn, L. M., 268 Ahmed, L., 342, 343 Ahmed, S., 47, 208, 214 Ajrouch, K. J., 212 Al-Akour, N. A., 91 Alan Guttmacher Institute, 316, 321, 323 Alarcón, N., 31 Alcoff, L., 30, 237, 257, 259, 282 Alcoff, L. M., 30, 208, 214 Aleman, C., 74 Alexander, B. K., 209 Alexander, C., 214 Alexander, G., 87 Alexander, M. J., 4, 8, 28, 29, 69–70, 353 Al Faruqi, L., 342 Ali, S., 210, 211, 214, 216 Allen, J. A., 13, 14 Allen, K. R., viii, 4, 5, 6, 7, 10, 11, 14, 27, 32, 35, 48, 49, 51, 52, 53, 56, 57, 58, 62, 63, 109, 111, 112, 113, 116, 121, 122, 136, 151, 153, 178, 179, 202, 206, 207, 208, 220 221, 223, 226, 235, 309, 351, 354, 355, 356, 360, 362 Allen, W. R., 5, 6 Allison, K., 139 Allosh, K., 91 Almack, K., 111 364

Almeida, D. M., 126 Al-Qutob, R., 91 Altman, D., 358 Amato, P. R., 353 Amégee, K., 322 American Anthropological Association, 210 Anabwani, G. M., 322 Anastasi, A., 92 Andersen, M. L., 4, 8, 14, 22, 148 Anderson, A. B., 208 Anderson, D., 334, 335 Anderson, K. N., 213 Anderson, L., 208 Anderson, N. B., 131 Anderson, T. C., 102 Andsager, J., 164, 166 Anhang, R., 321 Antonovsky, A., 71 Antrobus, P., 292, 293 Anzaldúa, G., 29, 31, 37, 98, 99, 101, 179, 213, 251, 258 Appiah, K. A., 210 Arber, S., 154 Archer, D., 306, 313 Arciniega, G. M., 102 Arcury, T. A., 126 Arellano, L. M., 98, 99, 104 Arendell, T., 79, 197 Arita, E., 193 Armstead, C. A., 131 Armstrong, D., 234, 239, 240, 241–242 Armstrong, F. M., 39 Arner, J., 211, 213 Arredondo, G. S., 28, 30 Ashford, L., 317 Askeland, G. A., 306, 313 Atkinson, M. P., 24, 25 August, E. M., 172 Ault-Riche, M., 329 Avila, P. E., 76 Avis, J. M., 335

Author Index Awkward, M., 30 Ayala-Alcantar, C., 98, 99, 104 Baars, J., 153 Baber, K. M., viii, 5, 6, 7, 12, 14, 35, 57, 58, 62, 63, 65, 66, 109, 179, 202 Baca Zinn, M., 4, 5, 10, 33, 101, 102, 127, 134, 137, 138, 142, 143, 308, 314 Bachanas, P. J., 161 Badgett, M. V. L., 117 Badran, M., 30, 341, 342 Bagdi, A., 37 Bailey, A., 215 Bajracharya, A., 124 Baker, H. A., 163 Baker, P. L., 265 Bakhtin, M., 212, 213 Balan, S., 71, 72, 73 Baldwin, J. A., 172 Balen, J., 13, 14, 296, 301 Bales, R., 84 Balsam, K., 117 Bamshad, M. J., 65 Banaji, M., 228 Banchero, R., 102 Banks, A., 112, 115 Barcinski, M., 213 Bargh, J., 227 Barnett, K. A., 103 Barnett, R. C., 125 Barnstone, W., 213 Barrett, M. J., 23, 49, 333, 336 Barry, K., 184 Bathidja, H., 322 Battle, J., 116 Baucom, D. H., 334 Baxter, L. A., 212, 213 Bean, F. D., 209, 212 Beasley, C., 44, 46 Beazley, J. A., 265 Behar, R., 249 Behnke, A., 74 Beins, A., 13, 293 Bekerman, Z., 211 Beksinska, M., 321 Bell-Scott, P. B., viii, 7, 8, 12, 30, 37, 160, 361 Benda, B., 160 Benestante, J. J., 296, 297 Bengtson, V. L., 9, 48, 49, 56, 62, 136, 154, 309 Benjamin, M., 215 Bennett, S., 113, 115, 117 Bepko, C., 332 Berg, I. K., 332 Berger, L., 211 Berkowitz, D., 45, 47, 52

365

Berman, N., 87 Bernard, J., 6 Bernhardt, J. M., 161, 167 Berns, N., 265 Bernstein, M., 4 Berry, E. L., 171 Bertaux, D., 27 Bertaux-Wiame, I., 27 Bertrand, J. T., 321 Best, A. L., 212 Betancourt, H., 100 Bhabha, H., 282 Bhaskaran, S., 285, 289 Bhatia, S., 213 Bhatt, S., 285, 287 Bhattacharjee, A., 283, 286 Bhavnani, K., 9 Biale, D., 209 Bianchi, S. M., 129, 353 Biblarz, T., 50 Biddlecom, A., 321 Bielby, D. D., 114 Biggs, S., 149, 153 Bird, G. W., 125 Birnbaum, M., 228 Bishaw, A., 127 Bishop, H., 115 Blackmore, J., 296, 297 Blaisure, K. R., 351 Bleier, R., 86 Bloom, D., 87 Blount, J. M., 295 Blume, L. B., 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 12, 14, 23, 29, 30, 45, 46, 47, 48, 51, 52, 59, 60, 61, 62, 69, 70, 164, 206, 209, 211, 212, 214, 220, 222, 223–224, 231, 266, 276, 311, 341, 348 Blume, T. W., 46, 60, 61, 62, 211, 212 Blumenfeld, W. J., 209 Blumer, H., 181 Bochner, A. P., 206, 207 Bogdan, R., 185 Boggs, G. L., 208 Bograd, M., 268, 330, 333, 334, 335 Bohan, J. S., 57, 58, 59, 62, 63, 69 Bolding, G., 225, 226 Bolduc, D., 91 Boler, M., 351, 354, 357 Bonati, F., 169 Bond, K., 321 Booth, A., 83, 89 Bordo, S., 58, 237, 270 Bos, H. M., 111 Boss, P. G., 5, 6, 36 Boswell, W., 220 Botcheva, L., 317

366

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

Botta, R. A., 166 Boulding, K. E., 319 Bowes, J., 317 Bowlby, J., 111 Bowles, G., 12 Bowling, S. W., 333 Boxer, M. J., 292, 293 Boyd, A., 317 Boyson, A. R., 166 Bozett, F. W., 6 Braver, S. L., 197 Brines, J., 23 Broad, K. L., 44, 45 Brockmeier, J., 213 Brodkin, K., 208, 209, 211 Broman, C. L., 126 Bronfenbrenner, U., 31, 92, 138, 142, 161, 162, 167, 318, 319 Brooks, A., 270 Brooks-Gunn, J., 124, 126 Brown, B. B., 169 Brown, E., 172 Brown, J. D., 166, 167 Brown, S. L., 152 Brown, W., 12 Brubaker, R., 211 Bruce, J., 322 Bruner, J., 182 Brush, P. S., 117 Bryceson, D., 73 Bryson, M., 52 Bubolz, M. M., 6, 164, 165, 169 Bulanda, J. R., 152 Bulock, L. A., 100, 105 Bumpass, L., 23 Bumpus, M. F., 123 Burke, B., 126 Burns, A., 214 Burris, M. A., 306 Burton, L. M., 5, 33, 34, 139 Busch, N. B., 334 Bush, M. E. L., 208, 214, 215 Busha, C., 238 Buss, D., 86 Bustamante, J. J., 74 Butler, J. P., 8, 46, 48, 59, 209, 222, 223, 224, 266, 268, 296 Buzzanell, P. M., 294, 296 Bybee, D. I., 268, 269 Byron, J., 84 Cahill, S., 116 Calasanti, T. M., 148, 152, 154, 155 Caldwell, B. K., 317 Caldwell, J. C., 317 Caldwell, P., 317

Calhoun, C., 108, 110, 118 Campbell, J., 268, 270 Cancian, F., 143 Cannon, K., 31 Cansler, E., 103 Cantú, L., 47 Caplan, P., 87 Carbone, L. A., 247 Carchedi, G., 212 Cardell, M., 224 Carlos, M. L., 136 Carlson, M. S., 197 Carrillo, L., 126 Carter, B., 330, 332, 333 Carver, K., 83 Casas, J. M., 102 Casey, M. E., 46 Casper, L. M., 129 Cass, V., 44, 223, 224 Castañeda, A. I., 29 Castellanos, D. H., 168 Castillo, A., 101, 102 Castles, S., 74, 75, 78 Catanzarite, L., 126 Cauce, A. M., 33 Cebekhulu, Q., 321 Ceci, S. J., 92 Cecil, H., 225 Center for Adoption Research, 115 Center for Research on the Environment, Health, and Population Activities, 317 Centers for Disease Control, 161 Chafetz, J. S., 9 Chambers, K., 117 Chan, C. S., 116 Chaney, C., 37 Chase-Lansdale, P. L., 124, 126 Chatters, L. M., 33 Chaudhry, L., 282, 290 Chávez, A. F., 35, 36 Chee, A., 77 Chee, W., 226 Cherlin, A. J., 13, 24, 141 Chin, J. L., 295, 298 Choice, P. A., 265 Chow, E. N., 179 Chrisler, J., 87 Christiansen, D. H., 101 Cissna, K. N., 213 Clark, A., 4, 24 Clark, R., 131 Clark, W. M., 331 Claxton, A., 131 Clegg, S., 354 Click-Shiller, N., 77 Clossick, M. L., 329, 330, 331

Author Index Coates, M. L., 126 Cochran, S., 116, 117 Cockburn, C., 267 Cohan, M., 197 Cohen, G. L., 170, 171 Coleman, M., 197 Collingham, L., 282 Collingwood, R. G., 239 Collins, D., 310, 312, 313 Collins, P. H., 4, 5, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14, 25, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 35, 38, 47, 49, 59, 62, 63, 64, 109, 118, 127, 148, 155, 161, 164, 165, 209, 211, 235, 267, 268, 305, 307, 353 Coltrane, S., 103, 125, 152, 156, 201 Comas-Díaz, L., 308, 310, 311 Combahee River Collective, 4, 33, 47 Committee for Studies on Women, Family and Environment in Africa, 322 Comm-org, 310 Connell, R. W., 84, 198, 240 Connidis, I. A., 25, 149, 151, 152, 153, 154, 155, 156, 157, 295 Connolly, C., 112 Conover, P., 35 Constable, N., 76 Cook, B. J., 312 Cook, E. A., 35 Cook, J. A., 179, 352, 355 Cooksey, E. C., 123 Coontz, S., 310, 311 Cooper, F., 211 Cooper, M. L., 125 Copeland, D. G., 238 Copeland, L., 170 Corbin, J., 182, 183, 271 Córdova, D. I., 312 Cornelius, D., 317 Corwyn, R. F., 160 Cossette, L., 91 Costello, C., 90 Cottingham, S., 306, 313 Cotton-Huston, A. L., 333 Cox, M. J., 126 Cramer, E. P., 113 Crawford, J. E., 112 Crawford, M., 65 Crawley, S., 44, 45, 83, 87 Crenshaw, K. W., 8, 29, 30, 69, 70, 211, 305, 307, 361 Crippen, A. R., II, 246 Crnick, K., 135, 138, 139 Crockett, L. J., 171 Cromwell, R. E., 102 Croom, G. L., 226 Croteau, J. M., 115 Crouter, A. C., 103, 122, 123, 125 Crowley, M., 9

367

Crumpacker, L., 293, 296 Crush, J., 195 Csapo, B., 317 Cude, B., 225 Cunningham, J., 168 Curran, C., 53 Da, W. W., 71, 74, 77 Dahlberg, F., 86 Dailey, T. J., 246 Daley, E., 172 Dalla Costa, M., 137 Dalton, S. E., 114 Dambacher, N., 111 Daneshpour, M., 34, 332, 346, 347 Daniels, K. C., 333 Daniluk, J. C., 109 Dannefer, D., 156 Dannefer, E., 153 Danziger, S. K., 124 Darling, N., 163, 169 Dasgupta, S. D., 256, 281, 283, 285, 286, 289 Das Gupta, T., 351, 353 Davenport, E., 46 Davidson, J. W., 238, 241 Davidson, T., 87 Davies, B., 57, 58, 63, 64 Davies, S. L., 161, 167 Davis, A. Y., 8, 29 Davis, M., 225, 226 Davison, K. G., 213 Dawkins, R., 84 de Castell, S., 52 Deck, A., 112 DeCosta-Willis, M., 8 DeFilippis, J., 305, 306, 312 de Jong Gierveld, J., 152 del Aguila, E. V., 168 DeLamater, J., 172 De La Torre, A., 103 de Lauretis, T., 239 Del Campo, D. S., 103 Del Campo, R. L., 103 Delgado, R., 214 Delgado Bernal, D., 105 Delgado-Gaitan, C., 144 Dell, P., 334 Del Monte, M., 112 DeLois, K., 334 D’Emilio, J., 28, 44 Demo, D. H., 4, 33, 126, 223, 360 De Reus, L. A., 5, 7, 8, 9, 23, 29, 47, 59, 69, 70, 206, 209, 214, 220, 222, 223–224, 266, 311, 341, 348 Derrida, J., 29 Desai, M., 193 Deshpande, A., 249

368

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

Deutsch, F., 125 DeVault, M. L., 23, 24, 25, 195, 236, 237 Deveaux, M., 267 Devlin, M. J., 335 DeVore, I., 86 De Welde, K., 267 Diamond, I., 319 Diamond, L. M., 65 Dickerman, G. S., 243 Dickert, J., 25 DiClemente, R. J., 161, 167, 225 Dielman, T., 170 Dieng, T., 322 Diers, J., 323 Dietz, M. G., 320 Dike, S. W., 242, 243, 244, 245 Di Leonardo, M., 24, 150 Dill, B. T., 4, 5, 8, 9, 10, 134, 137, 143, 179, 354 Dillaway, H., 88, 308, 314 Dilworth-Anderson, P., 5, 33, 34, 48, 49, 56, 62, 136, 309 Di Majo, D., 87 Dinshaw, C., 50 Diop, N. J., 322, 324 DiPalma, C., 58, 59, 63, 64, 65, 66 Dittus, G. J., 169, 170 Dittus, P., 169, 170 Divakaruni, C., 283 Dobash, R., 256 Dobash, R. E., 256 Dodson, B., 357 Dodson, L., 13, 25 Doherty, W. J., 5, 6, 36 Dolphyne, S. A., 305, 313 Dominick, J. R., 166 Donenberg, G. R., 169 Donnelly, N., 136 Dorsey, S., 170 Downing, J. B., 113 Dressel, P. L., 4, 24 DuBois, B., 352 Du Bois, W. E. B., 5, 209 Duggan, L., 47 Dumont, M., 234, 240 Dunifon, R., 124 Dunn, J. L., 265, 268, 277 Dunne, G. A., 110, 112, 113, 115 Durham, A., 166 Dykstra, P. A., 154 Eagly, A. H., 295, 296 East, J. F., 238 Edelman, L., 50 Edin, K., 23 Edlund, M., 163, 167 Ehara, Y., 193 Ehrenreich, B., 73, 86

Ehrlich, S., 195 Eikenberry, A. M., 294, 297, 298, 301 Einstein, Z., 29 Eitzen, D. S., 127, 138 Elam, D., 9, 13 Elder, G. H., Jr., 92, 152, 153 Elford, J., 225, 226 Elizur, Y., 223 Ellis, C., 206, 207, 208, 211 Elson, J., 89 Elton, G., 239 Emerson, R. A., 169 Emery, B. C., 265, 268, 269, 271, 272, 274, 275, 276 Enchautegui-de-Jesus, N., 124 Engels, F., 49, 136 English, D., 86 Enslin, E., 249, 250, 251, 258, 259, 262 Ensminger, M. E., 141 Epstein, N. B., 334 Epstein, S., 48 Erich, S., 115 Erkut, S., 63 Erulkar, A. S., 321 Espin, O. M., 116 Espiritu, Y., 71 Esseveld, J., 184 Este, D., 306 Estes, C. L., 149, 153 European-American Collaborative Challenging Whiteness, 207, 215 Evans, N. J., 115 Evans, S. M., 241 Ewing, D. W., 223 Ezzedeen, S. R., 10 Falmagne, R. J., 211, 212, 213 Faludi, S., 241 Farrell, M. P., 112 Fassett, D. L., 209, 216 Fausto-Sterling, A., 84, 87, 88, 89 Faver, C. A., 307, 311, 319 Feit, M. D., 171 Feldman, S. S., 169, 170 Feng, D., 9 Fenstermaker, S., 58 Ferguson, K. E., 58, 59, 63, 64, 65, 66, 297 Ferguson, R. A., 47, 50 Fernandez, V., 330, 332 Fernea, E. W., 30 Ferree, M. M., 4, 7, 8, 35, 109, 118, 180 Few, A. L., 5, 7, 8, 9, 12, 15, 23, 29, 31, 33, 35, 36, 47, 59, 64, 66, 69, 70, 122, 160, 161, 163, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 195, 209, 214, 220, 222, 223–224, 225, 251, 266, 311, 341, 348, 361 Fields, J. P., 63 Figueira-McDonough, J., 310, 311, 313

Author Index Fine, Mark A., 4, 7, 197, 276, 360 Fine, Michelle G., 211, 212, 214, 294, 296 Finger, B., 317 Finn, S. E., 224 Firestone, J. M., 102 Fish, L. S., 333 Fishel, D., 356 Fisher, B. M., 351, 352 Fisher, J., 225, 226 Fisher, M. P., 285 Fitzsimons, G., 227 Flanagan, C. A., 317 Flax, J., 57, 58, 346 Fleischer, D. Z., 180 Fletcher, J. K., 298 Flippen, C. A., 104 Flores, J., 100 Floyd-Thomas, S. M., 12, 354, 355 Foley, L., 83, 87 Fonow, M. M., 179, 355 Forehand, R., 169, 170 Foucault, M., 45, 58, 181, 184, 239, 266, 267 Fouron, G. E., 77 Fowler, T. B., 317 Fox, G. L., 5, 7, 8, 195, 200 Foy, J. M., 112 Frankenberg, R., 64, 208, 210, 214, 216 Fraser, N., 57, 58 Freccero, C., 50 Frechtling, J., 227 Freedman, E. B., 5, 28, 352 Freeman, E., 50, 87 Freire, P., 11, 52, 179, 305, 313, 352 Frias, L. V., 143 Friedan, B., 148 Friedman, S. S., 14 Frith, S., 163 Frone, M. R., 125 Frontiers/Population Council, 324 Fulcher, M., 110 Fuller, S., 210 Fultz, L., 8 Gabb, J., 108, 109, 110, 115, 116 Gallagher, M., 83 Gamble, W. C., 101 Gamson, J., 46 Gándara, P., 104 Gannon, L., 211 Gannon, S., 57, 58, 63, 64 Ganong, L. H., 197 García, A. M., 37, 97, 99 García Coll, C., 135, 138, 139 Gardiner, J. K., 266, 267 Garner, J. D., 148 Gartrell, N., 112, 115

Gates, G., 117 Gatson, S. N., 212 Gavey, N., 58, 149, 183, 184 Geertz, C., 212 Gentile, D. A., 170 George, L. K., 139, 153 George, R. M., 287 Gerena, M., 103, 155 Gergen, K. J., 181, 355 Gergen, M. M., 206, 355 Gerson, K., 137, 141 Gerstel, N., 103, 155 Giammanco, M., 87 Giammanco, S., 87 Giarrusso, R., 9, 154 Gibson, D., 150 Giddens, A., 181 Giffney, N., 49 Gillman, L., 12, 354, 355 Gilpin, L. S., 210 Gilroy, P., 36, 37, 210 Gimenez, M. D., 210 Giordano, J., 310, 312 Glaser, B. G., 230 Glaser, G. R., 89 Glass, R. D., 352, 355 Glazer, N., 210 GlenMaye, L., 334 Glick, P. C., 126 Goffman, E., 180, 181, 189 Gold, S. J., 100, 105 Goldberg, A. E., 50, 51, 109, 110, 111, 112, 113, 115, 116, 123, 179 Goldner, V., 329, 331, 335 Goldstein, E., 209 Golombok, S., 50, 115 Golub, S., 87 Gonyea, J., 187 Gonzalez, D., 29 González-López, G., 101 Goodkind, J. R., 268, 269 Gordon, B., 333 Gordon, D., 249 Gordon, S., 333 Gordon, V. V., 169, 170 Gosling, S., 225 Gottlieb, G., 92 Gould, J., 139 Grace, V. M., 149 Granger, D. A., 83, 89 Green, A. I., 46 Green, A. W., 71 Greenberg, B., 166 Greenberger, E., 125 Greene, B., 109, 116, 117, 308, 310, 311 Greene, M., 322

369

370

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

Greenstein, T. N., 24, 25 Greenwald, A., 228 Greer, C., 334, 335 Gregory, S. T., 311 Grenier, A., 149, 150 Grewal, I., 29, 249, 256, 260, 261, 346 Gross, E., 305, 311, 313 Gross, M., 323 Grossberg, M., 241, 243 Grosz, E., 266 Groza, V., 115 Grumet, M. R., 358 Grzywacz, J. G., 126 Guadalupe, K. L., 306, 310 Guba, E. G., 225, 230 Gubrium, J. F., 10, 49, 182, 183 Guelzow, M. G., 125 Guglielmo, J., 209 Guido-DiBrito, F., 35, 36 Gunew, S., 208, 214 Guo, G., 92, 167 Gurin, P., 35 Gutiérrez, L. M., 33, 34, 305, 308, 310, 311, 312, 313, 334 Gutter, M., 225 Guy-Sheftall, B., 8, 12, 29 Haifa, R., 342 Halberstam, J., 50 Hale, J., 139 Haley-Lock, A., 123 Haliburton, C. S., 168 Hallfors, D., 92 Hallman, K., 323 Halmi, K. A., 335 Halpern, C. T., 92, 167 Halpern, D. F., 91 Ham, A., 170 Hamer, J., 28 Hames-Garcia, M., 30 Hamilton, J., 115 Hamilton, K., 168 Hancock, A., 70 Hanley, J., 149, 150 Haraway, D., 249, 251 Harding, J., 57, 58 Harding, S., 23, 52, 63, 140, 179, 215, 237, 238, 240, 256 Hardy, K. V., 332 Hare-Mustin, R. T., 45, 57, 328 Harlow, R., 305, 311, 312 Harrington, K., 161, 167 Harrington Meyer, M., 156 Harris, R. J., 102 Harris-Bourne, V., 317 Harrison, M., 251

Hart, G., 225, 226 Harter, S. P., 238 Hartiman, J., Jr., 208 Hartsock, N. C. M., 23, 237 Hasan, A. G., 282, 284 Hashimoto, K., 192 Hasnat, N., 282, 283, 284 Hassan, R., 342 Hatch, L. R., 153 Haub, C., 317 Havens, K. K., 172 Hawkesworth, M., 58, 63 Hays, S., 76, 189 Head, M. R., 123 Healy, L., 306 Heaphy, B., 151 Heffner, K. L., 89 Hegde, R. S., 288 Heinz, W. R., 153 Hekman, S., 266, 267 Helms, J. E., 35 Henderson-King, D., 35 Henley, N. M., 265 Hequembourg, A., 112, 113 Herdt, G., 53 Hergenrather, K., 225 Hermans, H. J. M., 213 Hernandez, A., 351 Herzog, D. B., 335 Hess, B. B., 109 Hesse-Biber, S. N., 5, 11, 270, 297 Hicks, S., 46 Hill, S. A., 60, 128, 140 Hillyer, B., 180, 187 Himes, C. L., 156 Hirschmann, N. J., 63 Hochschild, A. R., 25, 73, 123, 137 Hoffman, L., 137 Hofschire, L., 166 Holcomb, H., 84, 85 Holland, J., 234 Holland, S., 290 Hollander, J. A., 265 Hollinger, D., 210 Holstein, J. A., 10, 49, 182, 183 Hondagneu-Sotelo, P., 76, 98, 126 Hook, E. W., 161, 167 hooks, b., 4, 8, 11, 12, 13, 25, 28, 29, 30, 31, 165, 179, 195, 214, 220, 223, 290, 352, 358 Hooyman, N. R., 187 Hope, A., 306 Hopkins, K., 37 Houvouras, S., 89 Howell, M., 238, 239 Hranicka, J., 336 Hsiu-Hua, S., 74, 75

Author Index Huang, S., 73, 75, 76, 77 Huberman, A. M., 183 Hughes, M., 33 Hull, G. T., viii, 7, 30, 361 Hunt, K., 310, 311 Hurt, B., 166 Hurtado, A., 28, 30, 31, 97, 126, 127 Hurtig-Mitchell, J., 109 Hutchinson, J. F., 168 Hyde, J. S., 90, 91 Ibrahimi-Ghavam, S., 347 Ifekwunigwe, J. O., 211 Ignatiev, N., 209 Im, E., 226 Imamura, A. E., 198 Imig, D. R., 100, 105 Ina, S., 139 Inglehart, R., 321 Ingoldsby, D. B., 62 Ingraham, C., 45 Inoue, T., 193 Iredale, R., 74, 75, 78 Ishida, H., 192 Ishii-Kuntz, M., 192, 193, 194, 196, 197, 199, 200, 201 Islam, N., 283 Jaccard, J., 169, 170 Jackman, M., 256, 257 Jackson, C., 167 Jackson, D., 295 Jackson, R. L., II, 212 Jackson, S., 165, 222, 223, 224, 231, 267, 275 Jacobs, K., 234, 239 Jacobson, M. F., 209 James, K., 329 James, S. A., 73 Janssen-Jurreit, M., 234 Jarrett, R., 142 Jarvis, L. H., 126 Jaschik, S., 305, 308, 313 Jaya, A., 332 Jeffreys, S., 44, 48, 50 Jejeebhoy, S. J., 323 Jekielek, S. M., 123 Jenkins, R., 135, 138, 139 Jha, S., 285 John, O., 225 Johnson, A. G., 62, 65 Johnson, D. R., 89 Johnson, L. B., 5, 33, 34 Johnson, M. K., 153 Johnson, M. P., 253 Johnson, S., 77, 78, 306 Johnson, T., 332 Johnson-Odim, C., 59, 60, 62, 63

Joinson, A., 227 Jolivet, M., 196 Jones, J. M., 160, 179 Jones, K., 206 Jones, L. L., 150 Jonsson, B., 317 Jory, B., 334, 335 Joyner, K., 23 Jurgens, J., 87 Kaestle, C. E., 92 Kagitçibasi, Ç., 141 Kahl, A., 124 Kalia, V., 213 Kalmuss, D., 35 Kamin, L., 85 Kanenberg, H., 115 Kaplan, C., 29, 346 Karamcheti, I., 285 Karasek, R., 125 Karofsky, P. S., 170 Karraker, K. H., 91 Kato, K., 197 Katz, C., 14 Katz, J. N., 44 Katz, S., 149, 153 Katzenstein, M. F., 293 Kaufman, G., 334 Kaye/Kantrowitz, M., 209, 353 Keating, C., 297 Keck, M., 193 Keefe, S. E., 136 Kees, C., 169 Kefalas, M., 23 Kelleher, D., 294–295, 296 Kelly, M. R., 211 Kelly-Gadol, J., 240 Kenneavy, K., 167 Kennedy, E., 13 Kennelly, I., 90 Kerman, L., 293 Kerwin, J., 227 Kessler, S., 56, 57 Kessler-Harris, A., 137 Keyes, C., 163 Khasunaveesu, S. S., 284 Kibombo, R., 321 Kiecolt, J. K., 89 Kiernan, K., 23 Kim, C. J., 212 Kim, H. S., 70, 79 Kim, S., 163 Kimmel, E., 65 Kimmel, M., 58 Kim-Puri, H. J., 193 Kincaid, D. L., 321

371

372

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

Kincheloe, J. L., 32, 352 King, D., 47 King, N., 152 Kirkwood, C., 269 Kitayama, S., 100 Kitch, S. L., 13, 14 Klahn, N., 28, 30 Klein, D. M., 36, 48, 49, 56, 62, 136, 309 Kleinman, S., 355 Klinenberg, E., 214 Knapp, S. J., 49, 62 Knudson-Martin, C., 60, 333 Koball, E. H., 125 Koff, B., 53 Kolodny, A., 293 Kong, T. S. K., 51 Kosorok, M. R., 170 Kostova, E., 322 Kotchick, B., 170 Kotchick, B. A., 169 Kowunen, J. M., 351 Krahl, W., 88 Kranichfeld, M. L., 360 Krekula, C., 148, 150, 155 Kub, J., 268, 270 Kuhn, T., 36 Kuhnle, U., 88 Kurdek, L. A., 53, 223, 224 Kurup, S., 322 Kurz, D., 140 Kuvalanka, K. A., 50 Kvale, S., 183 Lagnado, L., 207 La Guardia, M., 87 Lahiri, J., 283, 286–287 Lake, M. A., 91 Lal, J., 249, 258, 260 Lalonde, R., 77, 78 Lam, T., 74, 77 Lam, W. S. E., 77 Lamb, S., 265, 334 Lambert, S. J., 123 Lamberty, G., 135, 138, 139 Lamborn, S. D., 169 Lamke, L. L., 265 Lamphere, L., 137 Lancaster, R. N., 93 Lance, T. S., 115 Landale, N. S., 126 Landolt, P., 71, 74, 77 Landsbergis, P. A., 125 Lang, B., 213 Lang, L., 137 Lang, M. M., 24, 25 Lannutti, P. J., 224

Lapetina, M., 317 Lapovsky, E. K., 293 LaRossa, R. L., 5, 6, 36, 49, 181, 271, 275 LaSala, M. C., 223 Laszloffy, T. A., 332 Lather, P., 56, 58, 179, 183, 352 Lauer, S., 24 Laughlin, M. J., 60, 333 Law, L., 74, 77 Lawrence, F., 225 Laws, J. L., 311 Lazreg, M., 63, 64 Leavy, P. L., 271 Lee, B., 310 Lee, G. R., 152 Lee, J., 88, 209, 212 Lee, R., 86 Lempert, L. B., 268 Lengermann, P. M., 236–237 L’Engle, K. L., 167 Leonard, D., 351 Lerner, G., 234 Leslie, L. A., viii, 7, 14, 121, 195, 329, 330, 331, 332, 335 Leu, J., 69, 71 Leung, P., 115 Levine-Rasky, C., 207, 215 Lewin, E., 111, 113 Lewis, E. A., 33, 34, 305, 308, 310, 311, 312, 313 Lewis, R. A., 333 Lewis-Gess, J. K., 161 Lewontin, R. C., 85 Liberzon, I., 90 Lichter, D. T., 9, 126 Lichter, S. R., 166 Licona, A. C., 297 Liddle, J., 267 Lie, G. Y., 306 Lincoln, Y. S., 225, 230 Lindio-McGovern, L., 70, 79 Link, B., 180 Link, R., 306, 312, 313 Lisansky, J., 100 Lloyd, E., 125 Lloyd, M., 180 Lloyd, S. A., 7, 122, 265, 268, 269, 271, 272, 274, 275, 276 London, J., 137 Long, J. L., 337 Longino, C. F., Jr., 156 Longino, H. B., 92, 93 Lopata, H. Z., 6, 8 Lorber, J., 56, 58, 59, 83, 88, 90, 93, 109, 236 Lorde, A., 8, 13, 29, 32, 109, 307, 351, 353 Lott, B., 65 Loving, T. J., 89 Lowe, E. D., 124

Author Index Lu, H. H., 23 Lucero-Liu, A. A., 101 Luescher, K., 154 Lugones, M., 213 Luhmann, S., 53 Lum, D., 306, 310 Lusterman, D., 333 Lyons, A., 225 Lytle, M. H., 238, 241 Mabry, J. B., 154 Macdonald, A. A., 351, 354, 355, 357 Macek, P., 317 MacLeod, A. E., 267, 268 Macomber, J. E., 117 Maddison, S., 5 Magnet, S., 207, 212, 214 Magnus, M. D., 266 Mahajan, A., 257 Mahalingam, R., 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 210 Maher, F. A., 352, 353, 355 Mahler, S. J., 71, 72 Mahoney, D., 51 Mahoney, M. A., 259 Mahoney, M. R., 264, 265, 268 Maine, M., 335, 336 Majali, S., 91 Makino, K., 197 Malarkey, W. B., 89 Malcuit, G., 91 Malhotra, A., 322 Malti-Douglas, F., 343 Mané, B., 322 Mani, L., 252, 258, 287 Mann, C., 226, 228 Mann, S. A., 211 Mansbridge, J., 28 Manuel, T., 211 Maoz, I., 211 Maracek, J., 57 Marchand, M. H., 59, 256 Marcus, S., 53 Marecek, J., 224 Margolin, G., 330, 332 Marin, A., 126 Marín, B. V., 100 Marín, G., 100 Markens, S., 87 Marks, L. D., 37 Marks, S. R., 4, 7, 12, 14, 23, 30, 45, 46, 48, 51, 52, 60, 61, 164, 220, 223, 231, 276 Markus, H. R., 100 Marris, P., 319 Marshall, B. L., 149 Marshall, N. L., 125 Marshall, V. W., 10, 153

Marsiglio, W., 197 Martin, J. M., 297 Martin, J. R., 66 Martin, K., 89 Martin, P. Y., 84, 148 Martin, S. S. K., 150 Martinez, E., 70 Marty, M. E., 243 Marx, F., 63 Maryanski, A., 192 Mason, R. O., 238 Massey, G., 6, 138 Mathur, S., 322 Matthews, D., 207 Matthews, J. D., 113 Matthews, S., 10 Mattingly, M. J., 353 Mawajdeh, S., 91 Maykut, P., 230 Maynard, M., 59, 60, 63, 66, 267 Mays, V., 116, 117 Mazumdar, V., 285 McAdoo, H. P., 6, 135, 138, 139 McCall, L., 8, 10, 11, 70, 108, 109, 333 McCarthy, C., 210 McCollum, E. E., 333 McCoy, M. L., 172 McCoyd, J. L., 310, 311, 313 McCreary, M. L., 171 McDaniel, S. H., 333 McDermott, C., 127, 128, 129 McDermott, E., 115 McDermott, M., 209, 210 McDevitt, T., 317 McDonald, D. A., 126 McDonald, K. B., 39 McGoldrick, M., 310, 312 McGraw, L. A., 151, 179 McGuire, C., 319 McGuire, E., 87 McHale, S. M., 123 McIntosh, M., 23, 49 McIntosh, P., 214 McIntyre, D., 329 McIrvin Abu-Laban, S., 157 McKay, V. C., 305 McKenna, K., 227 McKenna, W., 56, 57 McKenney, J. L., 238 McKinney, K., 214 McLanahan, S., 197 McLaughlin, A. E., 4, 5, 8, 9, 10, 354 McLaughlin, J., 46 McLauren, P. L., 32 McLeer, A., 260 McLellan, J. A., 317

373

374

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

McLoyd, V. C., 33, 124, 160 McMahon, M., 115 McManus, C. H., 131 McMillin, L., 293, 296 McMullin, J. A., 25, 152, 154, 155, 295 McNay, L., 266, 267, 268 McNeilly, M. D., 131 Mead, G. H., 34 Meade, C. S., 170, 171 Mehayer, H., 91 Melendez, R. M., 227 Melito, R., 333 Menaghan, E. G., 123, 124, 125 Mendez, J. D., 70, 79 Mendoza-Romero, J., 102 Menjivar, C., 136 Menon, N., 253 Mensch, B., 322 Mernissi, F., 342, 343 Merriman, D., 244, 245 Merz, S., 90 Messer-Davidow, C. T., 351 Meth, R. L., 333 Meyer, D., 116 Meyer, I. H., 224 Meyerson, D. E., 298 Mezey, N. J., 312 Michaels, W. B., 154 Midgley, J., 306 Mies, M., 202, 256, 286 Mikell, G., 307, 312 Mikesell, R. H., 333 Miles, M. B., 183, 195 Miller, E., 90 Miller, J. E., 62 Miller, K. S., 169, 170 Miller, M., 265 Miller, T., 89 Milosz, C., 259 Mintzer, A., 223 Mirandé, A., 102 Mirkin, M. P., 333 Mitchell, C., 74, 75, 78 Mitchell, J. E., 335 Mizrahi, T., 293 Modell, J., 111 Modry-Mandell, K. L., 101 Moghaddam, V., 342, 349 Moghissi, H., 342, 343 Mohanty, C. T., 4, 8, 13, 28, 29, 69–70, 193, 270, 282, 283, 288, 289, 344, 345, 353, 355, 358 Mohanty, S. P., 30, 210 Mojab, S., 348 Monroe, P. A., 37 Montgomery, B. M., 212, 213 Montoya, M. E., 251

Moon, D., 46 Moore, L. J., 83, 88, 93 Moore, M., 109, 110, 116, 118 Moorefield, B., 227, 228 Moraga, C., 8, 29, 37, 179 Morawska, E., 240 Morehouse, R., 230 Morgan, J., 164, 166, 168, 169, 172 Morgan, R., 352, 358 Morley, L., 293 Morris, A. S., 317 Morris, J., 117 Morris, M. K., 161 Morrison, O. A., 50 Mortimer, J. T., 137 Morton, P., 165 Motsamai, A. O., 322 Mounts, N., 169 Moya, P. M. L., 30, 210, 361 Moynihan, D. P., 210 Moyo, I., 321 Muehlenhard, C. L., 172 Mueller, L., 321 Mueller, M. M., 153 Mullen, S. A., 322 Mullings, L., 73 Muñoz-Laboy, M. A., 168 Murphy, J., 115 Murray, C. I., 57, 58 Murray, D., 225, 226 Murray, S. O., 48 Murry, V. M., 5, 7, 195, 200 Musa-Aisien, A. S., 322 Musisi, N., 321 Mustanski, B., 226, 228, 229 Myers-Wall, J. A., 143 Nájera-Ramirez, 0., 28, 30 Nakamura, A., 193 Nakano Glenn, E., 137, 139, 143 Naples, N. A., 4, 8, 10, 11, 193, 293, 299 Narayan, U., 251, 252, 256, 258, 260 Nardozzi, J., 336 Nasheed, T., 165 National Research Council and Institute of Medicine, 317, 318, 319, 323 Navakas, F., 293, 296 Nayak, A., 210, 211, 215 Neal, J. H., 333 Nedd, D., 268, 270 Neema, S., 321 Neeves, S., 165, 169, 170 Nelson, C., 52 Nelson, L., 195 Nelson, M. K., 24, 136 Nelson, S., 139

Author Index Nelson, T. S., 333 Nesteruk, O., 37 Netting, F. E., 310, 311, 313 Neuborne, E., 236 Neville, H., 28 Nexica, I. J., 214 Nichols-Casebolt, A., 310, 311, 313 Nicholson, L. J., 57, 58, 234, 241 Nickel, P. N., 294, 297, 298, 301 Niebrugge, G., 236–237 Nielsen, J. M., 179, 337 Niemann, Y. F., 101, 102 Nieves, A. D., 4, 5, 8, 9, 10, 354 Noddings, N., 179 Norris, P., 321 Nosek, B., 228 Novek, E. M., 11 Oakeshott, M., 239 Oakley, A., 137 Obama, B., 207 Obeidallah, D. A., 139 O’Connell, D., 197 Ofei-Agoagye, E., 305, 313 Offir, C., 85, 86 Oh, K., 161, 167 Oh, M., 164 Okazawa-Rey, M., 305, 309 Oliker, S., 143 Olotu, B., 325 Olson, D., 345 Olson, L. N., 7, 276 Olson, S. E., 65 Olson-Buchanan, J., 220 Olyae-Zand, S., 347 O’Neal-Parker, L., 169 O’Neil, R., 125 Ong, A., 71, 74 Onorato, R., 330, 332 O’Rand, A. M., 156 Orellana, M. F., 77 Orenstein, G. D., 319 Orozco, C., 97 Ortner, S. B., 260, 262 Osmond, M. W., 4, 5, 6, 7, 18, 19, 21, 22, 49, 122, 128, 180, 189, 220, 222, 223, 226, 311 Ost, J., 117 Oswald, R. F., 4, 7, 12, 14, 23, 30, 45, 46, 48, 51, 52, 60, 61, 113, 116, 164, 220, 223, 224, 230, 231, 276 Otero-Sabogal, R., 100 Oyewumi, O., 257 Pacific Institute for Women’s Health, 322 Padfield, M., 194–195 Padilla, A. M., 136 Pagenhart, P., 114

375

Painter, N. I., 127 Palazzoli, M. S., 335 Palca, J., 166 Palmer, A., 321 Palmer, C., 85 Palmer, P., 137 Papp, P., 330, 332 Parado, M. S., 143 Parcel, T. L., 123, 124, 125 Pardo, M. S., 31 Pardun, C. J., 167 Park, R. E., 71 Parke, R., 103, 334 Parker, M., 360 Parker, R. G., 168 Parpart, J. L., 59 Parra-Cardona, J. R., 100, 105 Parrado, D. A., 126 Parrado, E. A., 104 Parreñas, R. S., 76, 77, 78, 136, 137 Parsons, T., 84, 136, 179 Pasick, R. S., 333 Pasley, K., 220, 225, 226, 227, 228 Patterson, C. J., 50, 109, 110, 115, 224 Pawelski, J. G., 112 Payne, M., 306, 313 Pearlman, S., 117 Pearlmutter, S., 115 Pegram, L., 166, 169 Pennell, J., 312 Pe-Pua, R., 74, 75, 78 Pérez, E., 31 Perez-Stable, E. J., 100 Perkins, W. E., 163 Perrin, E. C., 112 Perry-Jenkins, M., 109, 110, 112, 116, 122, 123, 125, 131 Pesquera, B., 97, 104 Pessar, P. R., 71, 72, 103 Peters, M. F., 5, 6, 33, 138 Petty, R. E., 165 Pew Internet and American Life Project, 220, 225 Peyser, H., 112 Phan, K., 90 Phelan, J., 180 Philaretou, A. G., 207 Phillips, L. D., 161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 166, 168, 169, 170, 172 Phillipson, C., 149, 153 Phinney, J. S., 36, 100 Phoenix, A., 125 Piatelli, D., 297 Pickering, T. G., 125 Pickett, R. S., 151, 153 Pierce, C., 123 Piercy, F. P., 12, 15, 206, 207, 208, 333 Piereson, J., 310

376

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

Pieris, I., 317 Pies, C., 112 Pike, K. M., 335 Pillemer, K., 154 Pinel, E., 224 Piotrow, P. T., 321 Piper, J., 346 Pistella, C., 169 Plath, D. W., 198 Pleck, E., 137 Pleck, J., 137 Plummer, K., 51 Pomerleau, A., 91 Ponzanesi, S., 214 Poore, G., 282, 283 Popenoe, D., 83 Population Council, 323 Population Reference Bureau, 316 Potter, E., 237 Potts, A., 149 Potuchek, J. L., 125 Pough, G. D., 166 Powell-Williams, M., 265 Powers, B. A., 87 Powers, P. S., 335 Prado, M. S., 99 Presser, H. B., 123 Prevenier, W., 238, 239 Pribila, M., 317 Prinstein, M. J., 170, 171 Procter, I., 194–195 Proulx, C. M., 220, 225, 226, 227, 228 Pruitt, L. P., 214 Puri, J., 353, 354 Pyke, K. D., 140, 149 Qian, Z., 9 Quadagno, J. S., 143 Rabinor, J. R., 335 Raffaelli, M., 171 Raggatt, P. T. F., 213 Raimist, R., 166 Raley, S. B., 353 Ram, A., 213 Ramachandran, P., 306 Ramanathan, C., 306, 312, 313 Ramazanoglu, C., 234 Ramos, J., 29 Rand, E. J., 48 Rao, A., 294–295, 296 Rapp, R., 137 Rasiah, D., 283 Rasmussen, B. B., 214 Rattansi, A., 208 Raver, C. C., 124, 125

Reddi, R., 283, 287 Reddick-Morgan, K., 161, 163, 166, 169 Reed, N., 115 Regan, P. C., 152 Reid, L. L., 123 Reimann, R., 4 Reinharz, S., 151, 242 Reitzes, D. C., 49, 181 Repetti, R. L., 122, 123, 125 Rhodes, S., 225 Rich, A., 112, 114 Richardson, D., 44, 46 Richardson, E., 166 Richardson, L., 207, 352 Ries, J. K., 161 Rimon, J. G., 321 Rinehart, W., 321 Risman, B. J., 4, 9, 11, 13, 22, 24, 51, 61, 84, 90, 118, 134, 148, 149, 251, 361 Ristock, J. L., 312 Ritchey, K. G., 10 Roberson, J. E., 192, 198, 199 Roberto, K. A., 356 Roberts, D. F., 170 Roberts, R., 166, 172 Roberts, T., 166, 169 Robillard, A., 161, 167 Robinson, E. L., 131 Roca, E., 323 Roche, K. M., 141 Rodas, C., 112, 115 Rodin, J., 335 Rodriguez, J. M., 29 Roe, K., 164, 166 Roediger, D. R., 209, 210 Roehling, P. V., 126 Rogers, S. J., 22, 125 Rollins, J., 137 Romero, M., 137 Roosevelt, T., 243, 245 Rosaldo, M. Z., 237 Rose, L., 268, 270 Rose, S., 85, 137 Rose, T., 163 Rosen, K. H., 269 Rosenthal, C., 10 Rosenthal, D. A., 169, 170 Ross, M., 226, 227 Rosser, S. V., 63 Rossi, A., 83 Rossi, P., 83 Roth, B., 97, 101 Rothblum, E., 117 Rothenberg, B., 334 Rothman, B. K., 139 Rouse-Arnett, M., 33, 35, 64, 66, 160, 195, 251

Author Index Rowe, A. C., 297 Royster, J. J., 8, 12 Rozee, P. D., 305 Rubin, D., 13 Rubin, H. J., 183 Rubin, I. S., 183 Rubin, L. B., 6 Ruddick, S., 7 Ruiz, R. A., 102 Runyan, A. S., 256 Russell, M., 125 Russo, N. F., 105 Rust, P. C., 44 Ryan, S. D., 115 Ryan-Flood, R., 115 Rygie, K., 310, 311 Sabogal, F., 100 Sachs, D., 282 Safilios-Rothschild, C., 6, 19 Said, E., 354 Salah, T., 212 Salazar Parrenas, R., 360 Saldívar-Hull, S., 31 Salehian, B., 87 Salerno, S., 209 Samson, F. L., 209, 210 Sanchez, R., 30, 361 Sanchez-Casal, S., 351, 354, 355, 357 Sandfort, T., 111 Sandoval, C., 31, 268, 270, 344 Sangari, K., 256, 258 Sarett-Cuasay, E. J., 161 Sarkisian, N., 103, 155 Sasser, D. D., 37 Sasser-Coen, J., 88 Sauck, C. C., 113 Saulnier, C. F., 305, 309, 311, 312 Saumya, R., 322 Savin-Williams, R. C., 65 Sayer, A., 123 Scanzoni, J., 7, 8 Schacht, S. P., 223 Schindler, T. Z., 333 Schmalzbauer, L. C., 13, 77 Schmeeckle, M., 9, 152 Schnall, P. L., 125 Schneider, S., 227 Schor, N., 46 Schumm, W. R., 5, 6, 36 Schwartz, J. E., 125 Schwartz, R. C., 336 Schwartz, S. H., 100 Schwarzwald, H., 322 Scott, J. W., 58, 137, 234, 237, 238, 240, 241, 247, 296, 297 Sedgwick, E. K., 45, 48

Segura, D. A., 97, 99 Seidman, S., 44, 53 Sellers, S. A., 37 Senserrick, T., 170 Serovich, J. M., 331, 337 Settersten, R. A., Jr., 153 Sewell, W. H., 181 Shah, I., 323 Shah, S., 28 Shakin, D., 91 Shakin, M., 91 Shapiro, A., 239 Sharma, A., 254 Sharpley-Whiting, T. D., 166, 168 Shdaimah, C. S., 310, 311, 313 Shehan, C., 83, 87 Shen, Y., 171 Sherman, B. L., 166 Sherr, L., 225, 226 Shope, J., 170 Shore, E. A., 331 Shuey, K. M., 152 Sibanda, L., 323 Sikkink, K., 193 Silverstein, M., 154 Silverstein, O., 330, 332 Sims-Wood, J., 8 Sing, R., 63 Singh, M., 166 Singh, S., 317 Sinha, M., 260 Sirin, S. R., 212 Sirl, K., 161 Skrbis, Z., 360 Skrla, L., 296, 297 Slavin, L. A., 171 Slevin, K. F., 148, 155 Slobodnik, A. J., 333 Small, S. A., 34 Smart Young, T., 164, 166, 172 Smith, A., 77, 78 Smith, B., viii, 7, 28, 29, 30, 361 Smith, C., 181 Smith, D. E., 8, 10, 23, 24, 43, 148, 178, 237, 240 Smith, S. L., 166 Smith, S. R., 62 Smitherman, G., 163 Smock, P. J., 23–24 Smokowski, P. R., 171 Sofer, D., 207 Sokoloff, N., 137 Sollie, D. L., viii, 7, 14, 121, 195 Sontag, M. S., 6, 164, 165, 169 Sotomayor-Peterson, M., 100 Soul Beat Africa, 322 Speizer, I. S., 322

377

378

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

Spickard, P. R., 35 Spillman, L., 180 Spivak, G. C., 47, 249, 282 Sprague, J., 20, 21, 22, 24, 148, 149, 153, 242, 250, 257 Sprecher, S., 152 Sprenkle, D. H., 333 Sprey, J., 38, 360 Sprigg, P. S., 246 Srinivasan, G., 283, 285, 287 Srivastava, S., 225, 256 Stacey, J., 12, 22, 46, 50, 293 Stack, C., 136 Stacy, J., 21, 23 Staines, G., 137 Stanko, E. A., 265 Stanley, J., 292, 293, 297 Staples, R., 165 Statham, A., 352 Statistics Bureau, 196 Stearns, C., 89 Stefancic, J., 214 Steffans, K., 168 Steinberg, L., 169, 317 Steiner, R. L., 103 Steinmetz, S. K., 5, 6, 36 Stephens, D. P., 33, 35, 64, 66, 160, 161, 163, 164, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 195, 251 Stern, R., 172 Sternglanz, S. H., 91 Stewart, A. J., 35, 127, 128, 129 Stewart, F., 226, 228 Stewart, K. L., 345, 346 Stith, S., 269 Stokes, C. E., 165, 166, 171 Stonequist, E. E., 71 Stotko, E. M., 65 Strauss, A. L., 182, 183, 271 Stremmel, A., 12, 15 Stroman, D. F., 180, 184 Stryker, S., 48 Stuart, A. J., 127 Sturgeon, N., 319 Sudbury, J., 34 Sugimoto, Y., 192, 198 Sullivan, C. M., 268, 269 Sullivan, M., 110, 113, 116 Suter, E., 45, 46 Sutfin, E., 110 Swope, H. E., 126 Tabacchi, G., 87 Takemura, K., 193 Takeuchi, D., 33 Talbot, D. M., 115

Talovic, E., 330, 332 Tambiah, S. J., 257 Tappan, M. B., 212, 213 Tasker, F. L., 50, 115 Tatum, B. D., 65 Tavris, C., 85, 86 Taylor, A. C., 37 Taylor, A. R., 101 Taylor, B. A., 74 Taylor, R. J., 33 Taylor, S., 90 Taylor, S. J., 180, 185 Taylor, Y., 115, 116 Tedlock, B., 206, 208 Teper, B., 50 Tetreault, M. K. T., 352, 353, 355 Thandeka, 210 Thapa, S., 323 Theorell, T., 125 Thomas, D. I., 49 Thomas, W. I., 5 Thompson, B. W., 335, 336 Thompson, L., viii, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 11, 14, 19, 25, 35, 148, 150, 178, 179, 270, 271, 361 Thompson, P. J., 6 Thorne, B., viii, 4, 5, 7, 8, 13, 19, 22, 23, 25, 49, 77, 122, 128, 135, 136, 148, 150, 153, 178, 180, 189, 220, 222, 223, 226, 311 Thornhill, R., 85 Threadgold, T., 293 Tichenor, V., 10 Tilly, L., 137 Timmel, S., 306 Tomida, H., 193 Tomm, W., 237, 240 Toossi, M., 126 Torres-Gil, F. M., 155 Touré, I. D., 322 Tovar-Blank, Z. G., 102 Townes, E., 31 Townsend, A. L., 35 Toyoda, M., 196 Tracey, T. J. G., 102 Transitions to Adulthood, 324 Traustadottir, R., 185, 187 Trepper, T. S., 333 Triandis, H. C., 100 Troiden, R. R., 223 Tronto, J. C., 8 Troyer, M., 65 Tsuchiya, M., 197 Tucker, C. J., 57, 66 Tucker, M. B., 33 Turteltaub, G. L., 112 Twigg, J., 148, 149

Author Index Udry, R., 83, 89, 90, 93 Ueno, C., 193, 201 Ulen, E. N., 166, 169 Umana-Taylor, A. J., 103 United Nations, 317 Updegraff, K. A., 103 U.S. Census Bureau, 96, 99, 104, 210, 290 U.S. Department of Commerce, 225 Uttal, L., 5, 8, 15, 34, 136, 144 Valentine, D., 334 Valocchi, S., 46, 48, 51, 52 Van Balen, F., 111 Van Den Boom, D. C., 111 van Eeden-Moorefield, B., 220, 225, 226, 227, 228 Van Gaalen, R. L., 154 Vares, T., 149 Vaz, K., 105 Vazire, S., 225 Vega, W. A., 102 Villarruel, F. A., 100, 105 Villenas, S., 72 Visweswaran, K., 249, 250, 255, 259, 282, 283, 287, 288 Vivari, B., 227 Vogel, D. A., 91 Voydanoff, P., 137 Vuorela, U., 73 Wagenheim, B. R., 102 Wager, T., 90 Wagstaff, D. A., 172 Wahlsten, D., 92 Waite, L., 83 Walby, S., 193 Wali, A., 73 Walker, Alan, 153 Walker, Alexis J., viii, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10, 11, 14, 19, 25, 31, 35, 108, 148, 150, 151, 162, 169, 178, 179, 361 Walker, R., 65, 211 Walsh, D. A., 170 Walsh, V., 293 Walters, M., 330, 332 Wang, C., 87, 259, 306 Wang, T., 226, 227 Ware, V., 210 Warner, D. N., 48, 51, 52 Warner, M., 50 Warren, J. T., 207, 209, 216 Warren, K., 125 Warrier, S., 256 Washington, P., 305, 310, 313 Wasik, B. H., 135, 138, 139 Waters, J. L., 74, 77, 78 Waters, M. C., 209, 214 Wayne, L. D., 254, 259

Webb, C., 172 Webster, B. H., Jr., 127 Weed, E., 46 Weedon, C., 180, 181 Weeks, J., 48 Weigman, R., 293 Weiler, K., 52, 352 Weinstein, H. J., 168 Weis, L., 214 Weisberger, A., 71 Weisner, T. S., 124 Weiss, M., 224, 225 Weissman, R., 228 Wells, B., 138 Wendell, S., 180 Werner, E. E., 136 West, C., 8, 34, 48, 58, 59, 61, 209, 223, 276 West, T. C., 268, 269 Westbrook, A., 164 Westkott, M., 179, 337 Weston, K., 4, 10, 49, 116, 136 Wetchler, J. L., 333 Wheatley, E. E., 184 Wheeler, E., 305, 309, 311, 312 Wheeler, S. C., 165 Whitaker, D. J., 169 White, J. M., 36, 62 White, L., 22, 125 Whittier, D. K., 227 Wiegman, R., 9, 12, 13, 361 Wilding, R., 360 Willetts, M. A., 61 William, G., 7 Williams, C., 49, 62 Williams, C. P., 77 Williams, T., 321 Williams, W., 117 Wills, J. B., 9, 13, 51, 134, 361 Willson, A. E., 152 Wilmoth, J. M., 156 Wilson, E. O., 84, 86 Wilson, H., 169 Wilson, J., 168 Wilson, L., 33 Wilson, W. J., 124 Winant, H., 210 Wing, A. K., 34, 37 Wingood, G. M., 161, 167 Wodarski, J. S., 171 Wolf, D., 249, 251, 252 Wolf, D. A., 156 Wolf, D. L., 70, 79 Woo, D., 305 Wood, J. T., 202 Woollett, A., 125

379

380

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

Wray, M., 214 Wright, C., 267 Wyatt, G., 165

Youniss, J., 317 Yu, J. J., 101 Yuval-Davis, N., 127, 288

Yager, J., 335 Yalom, M., viii, 5, 7, 13, 19, 23, 25, 135, 136, 148, 150, 153, 178, 180 Yamaguchi, M., 193, 194 Yates, M., 317 Ybarra, L., 103 Yee, L., 225 Yeoh, B. S. A., 73, 74, 75, 76, 77 Yep, A. G., 100 Yick, A. G., 252 Yinger, J. M., 36 Yodanis, C., 24 Yoder, J. D., 295 Yoshikawa, H., 124 Youngblade, L. M., 137

Zaal, M., 212 Zames, F., 180 Zamsky, E., 124, 126 Zavella, P., 28, 30, 98 Zeng, L., 170 Zenteno, R. M., 126 Zhang, X., 305 Zhou, M., 74, 209 Zhou, Y., 70 Ziemba, S. J., 333 Zimmerman, B., 13 Zimmerman, D. H., 8, 48, 59, 61, 209, 223, 276 Zimmerman, M. K., 170, 250, 242, 257 Znaniecki, F., 5 Zvonkovic, A. M., 179

SUBJECT INDEX

Academic feminism activism in, 304–305, 311–314 activist feminism versus, 12 Islamic feminism and, 345–347 Academic leadership, feminist, 292–302 feminist praxis, 292–293, 301–302 lived experiences as feminist administrators, 293–301 relational opportunities and challenges, 299–300 strategic resistance, 296–297 structural ambivalence, 295–296 visions of feminist leadership, 294–295 voice, collaboration, and inclusion, 297–299 Activism academic feminism versus, 12 academy-based, 304–305, 311–314 histories, 5–6 media coverage of, 310–311 See also Praxis ACT-UP. See AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power Adolescent Health and Information Projects (Nigeria), 321–322 Adolescents, 65, 139 See also African American female adolescent sexuality Adoption, 45, 112–113, 115 AFDC. See Aid to Families with Dependent Children Africa, sub-Saharan. See Supportive health environments in sub-Saharan Africa African American adolescents, 139 See also African American female adolescent sexuality African American families family ties to communities and contexts, 136 intersectionality, 140 kinship support for, 39 work-family connections, 126 African American fathers, 170 African American female adolescent sexuality, 160–172 applications of womanist-ecological framework, 171–172 chronosystemic analysis, 163–164 ecological model approach, 161–162

ecological systems interpreted from womanist lens, 162–172 exosystemic analysis, 165–167 families and, 169–170 macrosystemic analysis, 164–165 mesosystemic analysis, 167–169 microsystemic analysis, 169–171 peer/intimate relationships and, 170–171 sexual scripts, 165, 167, 170, 171 womanist theoretical approach, 162 See also African American women African American lesbians, 116 African American mothers, 169–170, 170–171 African Americans culturally sensitive intervention approaches, 34 double consciousness, 5 historical context, 139 intersectionality and, 127 intimate relationships, 60 marital status, 156 racism against, 138 sex education programs and policies, 34 African American women emergence of feminist family studies, 7–8 Harlem, New York, 73 postmodern feminist approach to studying, 60 work-family connections, 127, 128 See also African American female adolescent sexuality; Womanism African Medical and Research Foundation, 324 Africa Regional Forum on Youth Reproductive Health and HIV, 317–318 Age groups, political power of, 155 Agency and activism, 310–313 in Chicana feminism, 99 defining and understanding, 265–267 dominant narratives about, 265, 271–273 essentialism/constructivist dualisms and, 265–266 as exit, in response to intimate partner violence, 265, 272 381

382

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

family ties to communities and contexts, 142 in feminist methodology, 261 feminist theory and, 148, 265–268 intimate partner violence and, 264–277 materiality and, 267 as missing, in response to intimate partner violence, 265, 272–273 performativity and, 266 as prevention, in response to intimate partner violence, 265, 272 in queer theory, 45–46 resistance and, 266–267 in response to intimate partner violence, 264–277 theorizing within dialectical framework, 267–268 Aggression, 87 See also Intimate Partner Violence, Domestic Violence Aging, 147–158 common themes in feminist perspectives, 147–149 envisioning older women, 356–357 extending feminist perspectives, 152–155 of individuals and families, 147 influence of feminist perspectives, 151–152 intersection of family ties and aging, 149–151 intersections of gender and age relations, 155–156 Aging families, as term, 147 AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power (ACT-UP), 47–48 Aid to Families with Dependent Children (AFDC), 143 All Our Kin (Stack), 136 Ambivalence, 152, 154, 295–296 American Sociological Review (ASR), 89–90 Analysis of variance model, 92 Analytic autoethnography, 207–208 Animal studies, 85–86 Anonymity, in Internet research, 227, 229 Anthony, Susan B., 28 Anthropologists, feminist, 86 Antifeminism, 20 Antifoundationalism, 210 Archaeologists, feminist, 86 Asian American lesbians, 116 ASR. See American Sociological Review Astronaut families, 74–75 See also Transnational motherhood Audience, power of, 258–260 Australia, 74, 75 Autoethnography, 206–208 Baby Mama sexual script, 165 Basic Law for a Gender Equal Society (Japan), 194 Bedouin women, resistance in, 267 Behavior, and genetics, 91 Behavioral endocrinology, 86–87 Bioecological model, 92, 93 (figure) Biological explanations for gendered behavior in families, 84–88 behavioral endocrinology and gender, 86–87 evolutionary psychology, 86

intersexuality, 87–88 sociobiology, 84–86 “Biological Limits of Gender Construction” (Udry), 89–90 Biologism in lesbian-parent families, 110–111, 112 Biosocial perspectives on families, 83–94 behavioral endocrinology and gender, 86–87 biological explanations for gendered behavior in families, 84–88 current issues and approaches, 89–93 evolutionary psychology, 86 family studies research on gender differences and biosocial explanations, 89–91 feminist research on gender and reproduction, 88–89 genetics and behavior, 91 genotypes and phenotypes, 91–93, 93 (figure) intersexuality, 87–88 sociobiology, 84–86 Birth control advocates, 28 Birth experiences, 89 Black feminist consciousness, defined, 4–5 Blacks. See African Americans Bling Bling period, in Hip Hop, 164 Borderlands, 29, 31, 98–99, 251 Borders, in Chicana feminism, 98–99 Breastfeeding, 89 Canada, 74 Career advancement, Chicana, 104 Caregiving, 143–144, 152 Caribbean transnational children, 77–78 Case studies feminism/womynism, 305–306 feminist historical methodology, 240–246 neofeminism/traditionalism, 306–307 Caste system, 254–255, 284 Chicana feminism consciousness rearticulation, 31 origins, 97–98 themes, 98–100 Chicanas, 96–105 Chicana feminist origins, 97–98 Chicana feminist themes, 98–100 future research needs, 104–105 gender, ethnicity, and economic status, 103–104 gender and ethnicity, 100–103 racial-ethnic feminisms, 29 See also Mexican Americans Chicano movement, 97, 99 Childbirth, 89 Child Care and Family Care Leave Law (Japan), 192 Child care services, 144 See also Working-class fatherhood and masculinities in contemporary Japan Child Caring Men’s Group (Japan), 196–197 Child development, integrative model of, 138–139 Children academic performance of, 22

Subject Index effects of cohabitation on, 23 of lesbian or gay parents, 50 low-wage employment of mothers and, 124 naming practices in lesbian-parent families, 111 parenting styles and, 141 transnational, 77–79 Chimpanzees, mating behavior of, 85 China astronaut families, 74, 75 study mothers, 75 transnational mothers, 78 Chinese immigrant women, 70–71 Christian/Muslim couples, 347 Chromosomes, and intersexuality, 88 Chronosystemic analysis, 138, 163–164 Class India, 255 Indian immigrant women, 284 lesbian-parent families, 114–115 postmodern feminism and, 65 Cohabitation, 23, 152, 156 Collectivism, 100 Colonization, 283 Combahee River Collective, 4–5, 33 Communication about sexuality in sub-Saharan Africa, 321, 322 postmodern communication theory, 213 Communities and contexts, family ties to, 134–145 agency and adaptive responses, 142 broadening conceptualization of context, 138–142 communities responding to families, 143 engaging alternative methodologies, 141–142 feminism and, 135–138 history as context, 139 ideology as context, 139–140 interfluentiality, 142–144 problematizing context as variable, 140–141 social stratification as context, 138–139 theorizing intersectionality, 140 Community, and racial-ethnic feminisms, 32–33 Community caregiving, 143–144 Community programming, 323 Concurrent therapy, for intimate partner violence, 334 Condom use, and Hip Hop nightclubs, 168 Conjoint couples therapy, for intimate partner violence, 334 Conscientization, 352 Consciousness Black feminist, 4–5 differential, 31 double, 5, 211 feminist, 35 group, 35 measures of, 35 race, 35 rearticulation of, 31–32 Consciousness-raising groups, 352

383

Constructionism, social, 46, 48, 148 Constructivism, 265–266 Content of knowledge production, 179 Context, 138–142 ecological, 138–139 history as, 139 ideology as, 139–140 problematizing as variable, 140–141 racism as, 138–139 social stratification as, 138–139 See also Communities and contexts, family ties to Control, 45, 252–253, 274 Conversational partner approach to qualitative interviews, 183 Coping strategy, eating disorders as, 335–336 Cortez, Hernán, 101 Couple identity, gay. See Gay couple identity Couples therapy, postmodern feminist approach to, 60–61 Critic, inner, 236 Critical pedagogy, 352 Critical perspective, on aging, 153–154 Critical race feminism, 34 Critical realism, 354 Cromer, Lord, 343 Cultural centeredness, 29–30 Cultural essentialism, 256 Cultural issues, regional, 285–286 Cultural sensitivity, 34 Cultural sociology, 181 Cultural values, Hispanic, 100–103 Cyber-feminism, 224–231 data considerations, 227 methods overview, 228–230 procedural considerations, 225–227 qualitative Internet methodology, 224–227 Data considerations, in Internet research, 227 “Decentering Heteronormativity” (Oswald, Blume, & Marx), 48–49, 62 Deconstruction as analytic tool, 58, 63 of binaries, 44–45, 48 gender discourse, 61 of heteronormativity, 61, 62 in postmodern feminism, 58, 61, 63 in queer theory, 44–45, 48 Degendering, in postmodern feminism, 59 Demographic Health Survey of India, 252 Developmental disabilities, 182 See also Nondisabled sisters of siblings with disabilities Development-in-context framework, 141 Dialectical analysis, 61, 211–214 Differance, 29 Difference, in postmodern feminism, 59–60 Differential consciousness, 31–32, 270

384

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

Disability, as construct, 180–181 See also Nondisabled sisters of siblings with disabilities Discourse in postmodern feminism, 57–58 pro-family, 242–246 in queer theory, 45 in racial-ethnic feminisms, 30–32 Discourse-analytic approaches, 213 Discrimination against gay and lesbian couples, 223 Discussion boards, in Internet research, 226–227 Diva sexual script, 165, 167, 170 Diversity in aging, 154–155 Dodson, Betty, 356–357 Domestic partnerships among heterosexuals, 61–62 Domestic servants as transnational mothers, 76–77 Domestic violence, 24–25, 140 See also Domestic violence in India study; Intimate partner violence Domestic violence in India study, 251–262 application of feminist methodology, 253–256 feminist tools of the trade, 260–262 language barrier, 253–254 outsider status of researcher, 254–255 overview, 251–253 power of audience, 258–260 power of participants, 256–258 power of researcher, 258 relative freedom of participants, 255–256 rethinking feminist methodology, 256–260 See also Intimate partner violence Domination, matrix of, 8, 235 Don’t Be Afraid, Gringo (Benjamin), 215 Double consciousness, 5, 211 Dyke sexual script, 165, 170 Earth Mother sexual script, 165 Eating disorders, 332, 335–336 Ecofeminism, 319 Ecological model, 138–139 See also African American female adolescent sexuality; Programming with an ecofeminist perspective Economic inequality, and aging, 154–155 Economic status, Chicana, 103–104 Elevator system, 198–199 El Salvadoran transnational mothers, 77 Emancipatory historiography, 31 Encyclopedia of Women and Islamic Cultures, 347 Enmeshment, as term, 330 Epistemic privilege, 210 Epistemic realism, 210 Epistemological pluralism, 361 Epistemology feminist, 222–223, 237–238, 250 historical, 238–239 knowledge production, 179–180, 239, 250 Erection medications, 149 Essentialism, cultural, 256

Essentialism/constructivist dualisms, 265–266 Ethnicity lesbian-parent families and, 116–118 racial-ethnic feminisms and, 35–36 as term, 211 without groups, 211 work-family connections and, 126 See also Racial-ethnic feminisms Evolutionary psychology, 86 Exosystemic analysis, 138, 165–167 Extended families Chicanas, 103 Euro Americans, 155–156 family ties to communities and contexts, 136 Mexican Americans, 155–156 work-family connections, 126 Familism, 100, 101 Family African American female adolescent sexuality and, 170–171 characterized by agreement and similarity, 23–24 as embodied institution, 83 as natural, 242–244 as patriot, 244–245 as personal relationships, 22 Family life education, 323 Family power, 361 Family Research Council, 240–241, 246–247 Family roles, 84 Family stress theory, 34 Family studies and activism, 313–314 assumptions underlying, 18–19 and community contexts, 134–135 conceptualizing gender in, 8 conceptualizing intersectionality in, 10–11 contemporary feminist family studies, 24–25 history of, 6 postmodern feminism and, 60–62 queer theory implications for, 49–53 queer theory’s impact on, 48–49 reclaiming feminist praxis for, 11–13 research on gender differences and biosocial explanations, 89–91 role of the Journal of Marriage and Family, 19–26 Family Theories (White & Klein), 62 Family therapy, feminist, 328–338 on being a family therapist, 347–348 developments in, 332–333 diversity of families in, 331–332 for eating disorders, 332, 335–336 feminist praxis and, 328–329 future of, 337–338 gender in, 330 individual choice and responsibility in, 331 individual family members as clients, 332

Subject Index for intimate partner violence, 334–335 Islamic feminism and, 347–348 postmodern feminist approach to, 60–61 power inequities between therapist and client, 332 power inequities in family relationships, 330–331, 334–335 principles, 329–332 values in, 329–330, 335 Fathers African American, 170, 171 gay, 47, 50 mothering role and, 61 single, 61 See also Parents; Working-class fatherhood and masculinities in contemporary Japan Female adolescent sexuality, African American. See African American female adolescent sexuality Feminism central themes of, 122, 147–149 family ties to communities and contexts and, 135–138 historical emphases, 307 queer theory and, 51 Feminism/womynism attributes, 308–309, 309 (table) case study, 305–306 described, 307–308 praxis, 313 Feminist anthropologists, 86 Feminist archaeologists, 86 Feminist consciousness, 35, 352 Feminist-ecological perspective. See Programming with feminist-ecological perspective Feminist epistemology, 237–238, 250 See also Epistemology Feminist family studies characteristics, 360–361 contemporary, 24 defining, 4–5 emergence of, 6–8 next frontiers for, 8–9 Feminist historical methodology, 239–240 Feminist methodology autoethnography 206–208 case study, 240–246, 305–306 dialectical analysis, 211–214 ethnography, 142 internet, qualitative, 225–227 interviews, qualitative, 142, 181-184, 195, 269–271 historical, 238–240 queer theory, 51–52 Feminist standpoint theory, 62–63, 237–238 Feminist theory on agency, 265–273 and family studies, 3–15 gay couple identity study and, 222–223 history of, 236–238 queer theory’s parallels with, 46–48

385

queer theory’s tensions with, 48 racial-ethnic feminisms and, 34 work and family research and, 126–131 See also Black feminist consciousness; Chicanas; Critical race feminism; Ecofeminism; Intersectionality; Islamic feminism; Japanese feminisms; Mestiza feminism; Multiracial feminism; Postcolonial feminism; Postmodern feminism; Racial-ethnic feminisms; Transnational feminism; Transnational intersectionality; Queer theory; Racial-ethnic feminisms; Womanism Fictive kin, 136 Filipina migrants to Rome, 76 Foraging societies, 86 Freak sexual script, 165, 167, 170, 171 Functionalism, 21–24 Gangster Bitch sexual script, 165 Gay couple identity, 220–232 conceptual framework, 222–224 couple identity, 230 discrimination against gay couples, 223 feminist interpretation of literature, 223–224 ideal relationship, 230–231 resisting heteronormativity, 231 Gay fathers, 47, 50 Gay identity models, 223–224 Gender age relations and, 155–156 behavioral endocrinology and, 86–87 conceptualizing in family studies, 8 as construct, 180 and ethnicity, 100 in feminist family therapy, 330 in postmodern feminism, 58–59 psychological differences, 90–91 in queer theory, 46 and reproduction, 88 sexuality versus, 46 Gender discourse deconstruction, 61 Gendered resource theory, 24–25 Gender-free movement, 201 Gender neutral pronoun, 65 Gender roles, 84, 86, 100 Gender theory, emergence of, 8 Genetics, and behavior, 91 Genitals, and intersexuality, 88 Genotypes, 91–92, 93 (figure) Geographies of power, 71 Ghana, 321 Globalization, 70 See also Transnational feminism; Transnational intersectionality Global South, 251 Gold Digger sexual script, 165, 167, 170 Gonads, and intersexuality, 88

386

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

Good-bad man dichotomy, 101–102 Good-bad woman dichotomy, 101 Grinding (dance), 168 Grounded theory analysis, 273–276 Group consciousness measures, 35 Group orientation, 100, 305, 312–313 Guatemalan American and Guatemalan families, 136 Hadiths, 342 Harlem, New York, 73 Health environments. See Supportive health environments in sub-Saharan Africa Hegemonic masculinity, 198–200 Heteronormativity deconstruction of, 61, 62 gay couple identity and, 231 lesbian-parent families and, 109–110 postmodern feminism and, 61, 62 in queer theory, 45 resisting, 231 Heterosexual licensed domestic partners, 61–62 Hijab (Islamic head cover), 340–341, 343–344 Hindu caste system, 254–255, 284 Hip Hop culture chronosystemic analysis, 163–164 as cultural context, 161 families and, 169–170 music videos, 166–167 nightclubs, 168 peer influences, 170–171 sexual messaging processes, 169–170 See also African American female adolescent sexuality Hispanic cultural values, 100–103 Hispanics. See Chicanas; Latinos Historical epistemology, 238–239 Historical methods, 238 See also Feminist historical methodology Historiography, emancipatory, 31 History absence of women from, 234 as context, 139 in feminist methodology, 260 HIV, in sub-Saharan Africa, 316, 317, 320, 321, 322 Hmong immigrant communities, 136 Home, praxis of, 287–289 Homeplace, 4, 29 Homonormativity, 47 Honduran transnational children/mothers, 77 Hong Kong astronaut families, 74, 75 transnational mothers, 76, 78 Hormones, biosocial models of, 87, 89–90 Housework, 103–104 Hypersexualization of women in Hip Hop, 164 Hysterectomy, 89

Idealized motherhood, 72–73 Identity in lesbian and gay studies, 44 in old age, 149 in racial-ethnic feminisms, 29 See also Gay couple identity Ideology, as context, 139–140 Ikujiren (Men and Women for Child Care Hours Network) child care activities, 198, 199 child care challenges, 196 Father’s Day symposium, 196–197 language used by fathers, 195 relative resources theory and, 193 study of, 202 Illiteracy, among research participants, 250–251 Immigrants Chinese, 70–71 Filipina, 76 Hmong, 136 Korean, 140 Latino, 72 Vietnamese, 140 See also Indian immigrant women India. See Domestic violence in India study Indian immigrant women, 281–290 gendered family and work experiences, 286–287 hybridity and masala as central organizing concepts, 282–284 postcolonialism, 282–283 praxis of home, 287–289 as professionals in the United States, 72 reclaiming virangana, 289–290 regional cultural issues and skin color, 285–286 religion and class, 284–285 Individualism, 305, 309–310 Individual level, of gender, 148–149 Individual programming, 321–322 Individual responsibility, 331 Inequality, and aging, 154–155 Informants, native, 256–257 Informed consent, for Internet research, 226 Inner critic, 236 Insemination, alternative, 111, 115 Institutional level, of gender, 148–149 Integrative model of child development, 138–139 Intellectual advancement, 30–32 Interactional level, of gender, 148–149 Interdisciplinarity, 13–15 Interfluentiality, 142–144 Intergenerational family patterns, and eating disorders, 335 Internet research. See Cyber-feminism Internet user demographics, 225 Interpersonal violence, 20–21 See also Domestic violence; Intimate partner violence

Subject Index Interpretivism, 239 Interracial lesbian couples, 117 Intersectionality conceptualizing for family studies, 10–11 dialectical analysis and, 211–214 emerging paradigm of, 5 family ties to communities and contexts, 140 feminist family therapy and, 333 gay couple identity and, 224 group-based, 305, 312–313 individual-based, 305, 309–310 introduction of, 8, 9 in postmodern feminism, 59–60 in queer theory, 47 in racial-ethnic feminisms, 29 reflexivity and, 10 social marginality and, 70–71 in work and family research, 126–131 See also Transnational intersectionality Intersexuality, 87–88 Intimate partner violence activism and, 312 agency-as-exit, 265, 272 agency-as-missing, 265, 272–273 agency-as-prevention, 265, 272 counternarrative of women’s agency in feminist theory and scholarship, 265–269 dialectic of involvement/disentanglement, 276–277 dominant narratives about, 265 feminist family therapy for, 334–335 feminist scholarship on battering, 268–269 leaving, 269, 274–275 resistance, 266–267, 269, 274 restoring control, 274 surviving, 268–269, 273–274 women’s agency in response to, 264–277 See also Domestic violence; Domestic violence in India study Intimate terrorism, 253 Iranian couples, 345–346 Ishrat Project, 324 Islamic feminism, 340–349 academy and, 345–347 defined, 341–342 family therapy and, 347–348 postmodern Muslim feminist praxis, 345–348 Western colonist constructions of “Muslim women,” 342–344 White, Western feminist constructions of “Muslim women,” 344–345 Japanese Americans, 139 Japanese feminisms, 193–194 See also Working-class fatherhood and masculinities in contemporary Japan Jealousy, toward siblings, 186

387

Jenda free movement, 201 Jezebel image, 165 Jordan, Judith, 308 Journal of Marital and Family Therapy, 346 Journal of Marriage and Family, 19–26 Kinship structures, in lesbian-parent families, 116 Kinship support, for Black families, 39 Knowledge in feminist methodology, 250 philosophical approach to, 179–180 in postmodern feminism, 57 power and, 239 production of, 179–180, 239, 250 social construction of, 57 Korean immigrant youth, 140 Labor, division of, in lesbian-parent families, 110 Language, 31, 330 Language barriers, in domestic violence in India study, 253–254 Latinos community caregiving, 144 immigrant women, 72 lesbians, 116, 117–118 transnational children, 77 work-family connections, 126 See also Mexican Americans Leadership, feminist academic. See Academic leadership, feminist Leaving, as response to intimate partner violence, 269, 274–275 Legal issues, in lesbian-parent families, 111–112, 113 Lesbian and gay studies, 44, 48 Lesbian-parent families, 108–119 adoptive lesbian couples, 112–113 biologism in, 110–111, 112 children of, 50 division of labor, 110 heteronormativity and, 109–110 legal issues, 111–112, 113 naming practices, 111 race and ethnicity, 116–118 revisionist potentialities of, 113–114 social class, 115–116 Lesbians African American, 116 applicants for adoption, 45 Asian American, 116 discrimination against couples, 223 family ties to communities and contexts, 136 interracial couples, 117 Latino, 116, 117–118 Native American, 117 Liberal feminism, 62–63, 97–98 Life course theory, 34, 153–154

388

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

Living apart together, 152 Locating Traitorous Identities (Bailey), 215 Location, politics of, 29, 361 Lorde, Audre, 305 Los Angeles, Filipina migrants to, 76 Machismo, 101–102 Macro-micro dualism, in feminist theory, 148 Macrosystemic analysis, 164–165 “Main pillar” ideology, 199 Malawi, 321 Malaysian transnational mothers, 77 Mammy image, 165 “Man the hunter” theory, 86 Marianismo, 101, 102 Marina, Doña, 101 Marital sacrifice, and astronaut families, 74–75 Marital status, of African Americans, 156 Marriage movement rhetoric 19th-century, 240–246 21st-century, 246–247 family as natural, 242–243 family as patriot, 244–245 threats to natural family, 243–244 Masala, as image for hybridity, 282 Masculinity, hegemonic, 198–200 See also Working-class fatherhood and masculinities in contemporary Japan MASH. See Multisystem assessment of stress and health Materialism, 47, 164 Materiality, 267 Maternal employment, 22, 123, 124, 144 Matriarch image, 165 Matrix of domination, 8, 235 Maval Mahila Vikas Sanstha, 252 MDGs. See Millennium Development Goals Media coverage of activism, 310–311 Melting pot approach, 210 Men and Women for Child Care Hours Network. See Ikujiren Menarche, 88 Menopause, 88 Menstruation, 87, 88 Mesosystemic analysis, 138, 167–169 Mestiza feminism, 31 Methods of knowledge production, 179 Mexican Americans community caregiving, 143–144 devaluing of, 98 extended family integration, 155–156 socioeconomic status, 99 See also Chicanas; Latinos Microsystemic analysis, 138, 169–171 Millennium Development Goals (MDGs), 320 Money management research, 24 Moral enhancement opportunities, 185–186

Moral orders, 181 Motherhood, idealized, 72–73 Motherhood resilience, 73 Mothers African American, 169–170, 170–171 eating disorders and, 335 employment of, 22, 123, 124, 144 single, 131 See also Parents; Transnational motherhood Multiculturalism, 210 Multiple roles theme, 125–126 Multiplicity, in Chicana feminism, 98 Multiracial feminism, 98, 134, 137 See also Racial-ethnic feminisms Multisystem assessment of stress and health (MASH), 345–346 Music videos, Hip Hop, 166–167 Muslim American families, 34 Muslim/Christian couples, 347 Muslim feminism. See Islamic feminism Muslim women as immigrants, 284 Western colonist constructions of, 342–344 White, Western feminist constructions of, 344–345 MySpace, 171 Nair, Mira, 282 Naming practices, in lesbian-parent families, 111 Nannies, 47 National Academy of Scholars, 310 National Black Feminist Organization (NBFO), 33 National Council on Family Relations (NCFR), 336 National League for the Protection of the Family, 241, 242–245, 246 National Women’s Studies Association, 12 Native American lesbians, 117 Native informants, 256–257 Natural family, 242–244 NBFO. See National Black Feminist Organization NCFR. See National Council on Family Relations Neofeminism/traditionalism, 308–309, 309 (table) New Hope Project, 124 New Wife, The (Wang), 259 New York, Chinese immigrant women in, 70–71 Nigeria, 321–322 Nightclubs, Hip Hop, 168 Nondisabled sisters of siblings with disabilities, 177–190 accepting gendered family care ideology, 187–189 emphasizing moral enhancement opportunities, 185–186 integrating disability, gender, and family theories, 180–181 minimizing personal consequences, 186–187 portraying siblings with disabilities as normal, 184–185 reflecting on process of conducting feminist research, 189–190

Subject Index Objectivity, in feminist methodology, 250 Occupational stress theme, 125 Ontological pluralism, 361 Operationalizing concepts, 35–36 Oppression, 70, 99, 353–354 Parents African American female adolescent sexuality and, 169–171 communication with adolescents, 322 eating disorders and, 335 involvement in schools, 144 single, 23 styles of, 141 See also Fathers; Mothers Participants centering experience of, 33–34 power of, 256–258 relative freedom of, 255–256 Participatory feminist action research, 14–15 Patriarchal hegemony, 93 Pedagogy, 52–53, 352 Peer influences, on African American female adolescent sexuality, 170–171 Perceived Racism Scale, 131 Performativity agency and, 266 queer theory and, 46–47, 48 whiteness and, 208, 209 women’s agency in response to intimate partner violence, 266 Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity Reconciliation Act, 124 Personal space, in Hispanic culture, 100 Personal time benefits, 130 Phenomenological approach, 181–182 Phenomenon to investigate, identifying, 38 Phenotypes, 92, 93 (figure) Philippines, 76–77, 78 Planned Parenthood, 321 Playboy Channel, 166–167 Pluralism, ontological and epistemological, 361 PMS. See Premenstrual syndrome Poetry, in feminist methodology, 259 Political power of age groups, 155 Politics in feminist methodology, 260 of location, 23, 29–30, 210, 223–224, 361 Population Council, 317–318, 323, 324 Pornography, and Hip Hop, 166–167 Positionality in feminist methodology, 251 in hybridity, 282 in racial-ethnic feminisms, 30 Positivism historical epistemology and, 238–239

389

individual orientation and, 310 postmodern feminism and, 62 Postcolonial feminism, 47 Postcolonialism, 282–283 Postmodern communication theory, 213 Postmodern feminism, 56–66 assumptions and theoretical concepts, 57–60 critiques of, 62–64 deconstruction as analytic tool, 58, 63 as epistemological type, 238 family studies and, 60–62 future directions, 64–66 gender and degendering, 58–59 intertwined systems of power, 59–60 Islamic feminism and, 342, 345–348 methodologies, 65–66 power of discourse, 57–58 praxis, 66 queer theory and, 46–47 social construction of knowledge and power relations, 57 Postpositivist realism, 210 Postrace theories, 210–211 Poststructuralism, 181 Power family, 361 in feminist theory, 148 gender and, 4 geographies of, 71 inequities between therapist and client, 332 inequities in family relationships, 330–331, 334–335 knowledge and, 239 in postmodern feminism, 57, 59–60 in queer theory, 45 social construction of, 57 Power distance, in Hispanic culture, 100 Praxis and policy activism, 318–320 academic leadership and, 293 academy-based activism and, 313 defined, 4–5, 11, 292–293, 328–329 feminist academic leadership and, 301–302 feminist family therapy and, 328–329 group-based, 305, 312–313 of home, 287–289 individual-based, 305, 309–310 in postmodern feminism, 66 in queer theory, 47–48 reclaiming for family studies, 11–13 Premenstrual syndrome (PMS), 87 Prescreening process, in Internet research, 226, 228 Primates, mating and parenting behavior of, 85 Privilege, 353–354 See also White privilege Problem orientation, of aging research, 149–150 Procedural considerations, in Internet research, 225–227 Pro-family rhetoric. See Marriage movement rhetoric

390

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

Programming with feminist-ecological perspective, 320–324 community programming, 323 individual programming, 321–322 integrative models of programming, 323–324 relationship programming, 322–323 societal programming, 320–321 Promiscuity, animal studies of, 85 Psychobiological development, systems view of, 92, 93 (figure) Psychological gender differences, 90–91 Purpose of knowledge production, 179 Qualitative interviews, 181–184, 195, 269–271 Qualitative methods, in queer theory, 52 Queer, defined, 43 Queer materialism, 47 Queer Nation, 48 Queer theory, 43–53 concepts, key, 44–46 deconstruction of binaries, 44–45, 48 family studies, impact on, 48–49 family studies, implications for, 49–53 feminist theory, parallels with, 46–48 feminist theory, tensions with, 48 gay couple identity study and, 222–223 gender versus sexuality, 46 intersectionality, 47 lesbian and gay studies, emergence from, 44 lesbian and gay studies, tensions with, 48 method, 51–52 pedagogy, 52–53 performance in context, 46–47 postmodern feminism and, 62 power, social control and heteronormativity, 45 praxis, 47–48 structure and agency, 45–46 theory, 49–51 Qur’an, 341–342 Race consciousness of, 35 as ecological context, 138–139 lesbian-parent families and, 116–118 postmodern feminism and, 65 as term, 211 theories of, 209–210 work-family connections and, 126 Racial-ethnic feminisms, 28–40 advantages, 33–35 centering participant experience, 33–34 challenges, 35–36 commonalities and distinctions, 28–33 compatibility with family theories, 34 constructing research design, 38–39 cultural centeredness, 29–30 cultural sensitivity, 34

defined, 28 developing research questions, 39 difficulty in operationalizing concepts, 35–36 difficulty in predicting behavioral outcomes, 36 engagement with community, 32–33 in family studies, 33–36 identifying phenomenon to investigate, 38 integrating theories as framework for contextualization and data interpretation, 38 intellectual and social advancement, 30–32 linking to family science research design, 36–39 reflecting on process and presentation of data, 39 research team members, 39 rifts within feminism, 12 self-reflexivity in research process, 32, 35 theory and social action in, 4–5 See also Multiracial feminism; Womanism Racial identity, 35–36 Racialization, 209 Racism as ecological context, 138–139 intersectionality and, 60 in 19th-century pro-family movement, 243–245 at work, 130–131 Radical subjectivity, 31 Rape, 85 Realism, 210, 354 Recruitment, in Internet research, 228–229 Reflexive autoethnography, 207 Reflexivity feminist methodology, 250, 251 gay couple identity, 220–222 Indian immigrant women, 283–284, 284–285, 285–286, 287, 288–289 intersectionality and, 10 nondisabled sisters of siblings with disabilities, 178–179 queer theory, 52 racial-ethnic feminisms, 32, 35 self-, 32, 35, 250, 251 Regional cultural issues, 285–286 Relational analysis, 215 Relationship programming, 322–323 Relative resource theory, 25, 193 Religion, and Indian immigrant women, 284–285 Research design, 36–39 Researchers outsider status of, 254–255 power of, 258 racial-ethnic feminisms and, 39 Research questions, developing, 39 Research Web pages, for Internet research, 226, 227 Resilience, motherhood, 73 Resistance, 231, 266–267, 269, 274, 296–297 Resource theory, 24–25 Respeto, 100–101 Responsibility, individual, 331 Rethinking the Family (Thorne), 7

Subject Index Rhesus monkeys, parenting by, 85 Rome, Filipina migrants to, 76 Safety, in sub-Saharan African schools, 323 Sampling considerations, in Internet research, 225 Sanger, Margaret, 28 School attendance, in sub-Saharan Africa, 323 Schools, parent involvement in, 144 Scorpion flies, mating behavior of, 85 Scripts, sexual, 165, 167, 170, 171 Second-parent adoption, 112 Second-wave feminism, 48, 234, 235, 354 Self-defensive violence, 268–269 Self-reflexivity feminist methodology, 250, 251 racial-ethnic feminisms, 32, 35 Senegal, 322, 324 “Separate spheres” family model, 136–137 September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks, 347 Sex hormones, biosocial models of, 87, 89–90 Sex organs, and intersexuality, 88 Sex role theory, 8 Sexuality, 46, 149 See also African American female adolescent sexuality Sexual scripts, 165, 167, 170, 171 Shaping the Health of Adolescents in Zimbabwe (SHAZ), 322 Shari’a (Islamic law), 342, 346 Shramik Mahila Morcha, 252 Siblings, differences among, 153–154 See also Nondisabled sisters of siblings with disabilities Silence, in narrative, 259 Simpatía, 100, 103 Singapore, 75, 77 Single fathers, 61 Single mothers, 131 Single-parent families, 23 Sister Outsider (Lorde), 353 Sisters, nondisabled. See Nondisabled sisters of siblings with disabilities Sister Savior sexual script, 165, 167, 170, 171 Situatedness, in racial-ethnic feminisms, 29 Situational couple violence, 253 Skin color, of Indian immigrant women, 285–286 SNAF. See Standard North American Family Snoop Dogg, 167 Snowball sampling methods, 226 Social action, by Indian immigrant women, 289 Social advancement, 30–32 Social class. See Class Social constructionism, 46, 48, 148 Social control, in queer theory, 45 Social marginality, and intersectionality, 70–71 Social stratification, 138–139 Social workers, and lesbian applicants for adoption, 45 Societal programming, 320–321

391

Sociobiology, 84–86 Sociological ambivalence, 152, 154 Sociology, cultural, 181 Sojourner Syndrome, 73 Solidarity and conflict perspective, 154 Sourcebook of Family Theories and Research (Bengtson, Acock, Allen, Dilworth-Anderson, & Klein), 48–49, 62 South Africa, 323 Split model, 92 Standard North American Family (SNAF), 22–23, 24 Stanton, Elizabeth Cady, 28 Stigma, of disability, 180–181, 184–185 Still Doing It (film), 356–357 Strategic resistance, 296–297 Stratification, social, 138–139 Structural ambivalence, 295–296 Structural-functional explanation of family roles, 84 Structure, in queer theory, 45–46 Study mothers, 75 Subaltern participants, 249 Subjectivity, 31, 250 Sub-Saharan Africa. See Supportive health environments in sub-Saharan Africa Suffragists, 28 Supportive health environments in sub-Saharan Africa, 316–325 community programming, 323 feminist praxis and programmatic and policy activism, 318–320 individual programming, 321–322 integrative models of programming, 323–324 programming with feminist-ecological perspective, 320–324 relationship programming, 322–323 societal programming, 320–321 supportive environments overview, 318–319 Surnames, in lesbian-parent families, 111 Surviving, as response to intimate partner violence, 268–269, 273–274 Synchronous focus groups, in Internet research, 226, 227 Systems view of psychobiological development, 92, 93 (figure) Taiwan, 74, 75 Tanzania, 324 Teaching, feminist, 351–358 critical realist approach, 354 decentering privilege and oppression, 353–354 envisioning older women, 356–357 feminist consciousness and critical pedagogy, 352 vulnerability of teacher, 354–356 Technology, ideology of, 139–140 Testosterone, 87, 89–90 Theory defined, 36–37 disappearing acts of, 37–38 using in research, 38–39

392

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

Third-wave feminism, 341, 349, 354 Three-Cities Study, 124 Till, Emmett, 139 Time orientation, in Hispanic culture, 100 Toronto, transnational children in, 77–78 Traditionalism. See Neofeminism/traditionalism Transnational families, defined, 73 Transnational feminism cultural centeredness, 29 feminist teaching and, 354 need for, 8–9 praxis, 47 working-class fatherhood and masculinities in contemporary Japan, 192–193 Transnational intersectionality, 69–79 domestic servants as transnational mothers, 76–77 intersectionality and social marginality, 70–71 marital sacrifice and astronaut families, 74–75 perspective, 71–73, 72 (figure) psychological well-being of mothers and children, 77–79 transnational motherhoods, 73–79 Transnationalism, 360 Transnational motherhood, 73–79 domestic servants, 76–77 marital sacrifice and astronaut families, 76–77 psychological well-being of mothers and children, 77–79 transnational intersectionality perspective on, 71–73, 72 (figure) See also Astronaut families Truth, Sojourner, 127, 305 Uganda, 320–321, 323 United Nations, 320 Universalizing, 48 University of Maryland, 336, 337 Values, in feminist family therapy, 329–330, 335 Vancouver, Canada, 74 Viagra, 149 Vietnamese immigrant youth, 140 Violence domestic, 24–25, 140 interpersonal, 20–21 self-defensive, 268–269 situational couple, 253 See also Domestic violence in India study; Intimate partner violence Virangana, 289–290 Virgen de Guadalupe, 101 Vulnerability of teachers, 354–356

Welfare Mother image, 165 Welfare-to-work programs, 124, 143 Whiteness, feminist theoretical perspectives on, 208–211 White person, U.S. Census Bureau definition of, 210 White privilege, 205–216 feminist problematizing of, 214–216 feminist theoretical perspectives on whiteness, 208–211 postrace theories, 210–211 theories of race, 209–210 Womanism Chicana feminism and, 98 defined, 162 described, 161, 307–308 in racial-ethnic feminisms, 31 theoretical approach, 162 See also African American female adolescent sexuality; African American women; Racial-ethnic feminisms Women, as subordinate family members, 22 Women, Culture, Development (WCD), 9 Women & Families (Baber & Allen), 57 Women of color, as term, 64 Womynism. See Feminism/womynism; Womanism Work and family research, 121–132 alternative methodologies, 141–142 family ties to communities and contexts, 134, 137 feminist challenges to, 128–131 feminist theory and intersectionality, 126–131 maternal employment theme, 123 multiple roles theme, 125–126 occupational stress theme, 125 overview of field, 123–126 work socialization theme, 123–125 Work-family balance, of Chicanas, 103 Working-class fatherhood and masculinities in contemporary Japan, 192–203 fathering experiences, 197–198 insider-outsider status as theoretical lens, 194–195 Japanese feminisms as theoretical lens, 193–194 marginalized masculinities, 198–200 salaryman masculinity and marginalization of child-caring fathers, 196 transnational feminism as theoretical lens, 192–193 working-class fathers, 196–197 Work socialization theme, 123–125 Writing as tool for social change, 250–251 Xenophobia, 243–245 Yo, as term, 65

Walsh, Froma, 346 WCD. See Women, Culture, Development

Zimbabwe, 321, 323

ABOUT THE EDITORS

Sally A. Lloyd is Professor of Women’s Studies and Educational Leadership at Miami University. Her scholarship examines violence against women by their intimate partners, with particular emphasis on women’s agency in the face of violence, how women construct meaning around and make sense of intimate violence, and how discourses of intimacy and violence serve to justify male aggression and encourage women to “forgive and forget” abusive behavior. Her previous books include The Dark Side of Courtship: Physical and Sexual Aggression (coauthored with Beth Emery), Family Violence From a Communication Perspective (coedited with Dudley Cahn), and Courtship (coauthored with Rodney Cate). Her scholarly work also includes numerous coauthored journal articles and chapters on violence against women, published in journals and books such as Journal of Family Issues, Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, Family Relations, Sex Roles, and Sourcebook of Family Theory and Research. She has served as an associate editor for Journal of Personal and Social Relationships and has also served on the editorial boards of Family Relations, Journal of Family Issues, and Personal Relationships. While at Miami University, she has been an administrator for most of the past 19 years, serving as a department chair, director of Women’s Studies, associate dean, interim dean, and interim associate vice president for institutional diversity. She received her PhD in family studies from Oregon State University.

State University. Her research interests include the topics of intimate violence, African American adolescent sexuality, qualitative methodologies, rural women’s reentry experiences, and diversity issues in academia. She is the Diversity Fellow of the College of Liberal Arts and Human Sciences at Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University and presently serves on the National Council on Family Relations Board of Directors. She is the 2004 recipient of the Jessie Bernard Outstanding Contribution to Feminist Scholarship paper award from the Feminism and Family Studies section and the 2000 Outstanding Student-Originated Contribution to Family Research and Theory paper award from the Family and Health section of the National Council on Family Relations. Her scholarship on the utility of Black feminist and critical race theories has resulted in plenary invitations at national conferences and a coauthored book chapter on multicultural feminism and family studies in the Sourcebook of Family Theory and Research (2005). She has also contributed chapters in books that focus on the experiences of women of color, such as Violence in the Lives of Black Women and the upcoming Benefiting by Design: Women of Color in Feminist Psychological Research. Additionally, she has published in the Journal of Family Issues, Violence and Victims, Family Relations, Family Process, Sex Roles, Sexuality and Culture, National Women’s Studies Association Journal, and Criminal Justice Policy and Research Journal.

April L. Few is Associate Professor of Family Studies in the Department of Human Development at Virginia Polytechnic Institute and

Katherine R. Allen is Professor of Human Development at Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University. She is also a faculty 393

394

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

affiliate in the Center for Gerontology and the Women’s Studies Program. She has written extensively about family diversity and the integration of theory, research, and praxis in feminist family studies, and published her work in journals such as Journal of Marriage and Family, Journal of Family Issues, Family Relations, Journal of Marital and Family Therapy, Review of Educational Research, and Journal of Men’s Studies. Her current research includes investigations of hidden family ties in extended kin relations, sexuality over the life course, and perspectives on gender, aging, and sexuality. Known for her expertise in family diversity over the life course, qualitative research

methods, feminist pedagogy, and social justice work in the family field, she has received college and university awards for scholarship, teaching, diversity, and advising as well as the 1997 Ernest Osborne Award for Excellence in Teaching and the Anselm Strauss Award for the Outstanding Qualitative Research Article of 2005, both given by the National Council on Family Relations. She is the coeditor of Sourcebook of Family Theory and Research (2005) and Handbook of Family Diversity (2000), the coauthor of Women and Families: Feminist Reconstructions (1992), and the author of Single Women/Family Ties: Life Histories of Older Women (1989).

ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTORS

Michele Adams is Assistant Professor of Sociology at Tulane University in New Orleans, Louisiana, where her work focuses on families, gender, and culture. Her research has been published in scholarly journals such as Journal of Family Issues, Family Law Quarterly, Family Relations, Sex Roles, Journal of Vocational Behavior, and Applied Behavioral Science Review, as well as in book chapters in Contemporary Parenting, Gender Mosaics, The Handbook of Studies on Men and Masculinities, and Working Families. She is coauthor (with Scott Coltrane) of Gender & Families, second edition. Her current projects include a continuing focus on marriage and divorce from the 19th century through the present and investigation of modern dating strategies and trends in the United States. Elaine A. Anderson is Professor and Chair of Family Science at the University of Maryland, College Park, and codirector and founder of the Maryland Family Policy Impact Seminar. A former Congressional Science Fellow, her research focuses on family and health policy issues, at-risk families, rural families, and fathering. She has conducted policy analysis/ research for the United States Senate, multiple state legislatures, and several presidential campaigns. She has edited three family policy books, of which two focus on family policy educational curricula. Recent publications include “Flexible Workplace Policies: Lessons From the Federal Alternative Work Schedules Act” (with J. Liechty) in Family Relations (2007) and “Implications of China’s Open Door Policy for Families” (with A. S. Quach) in Journal of Family Issues (2008). She serves on numerous journal editorial boards, including Family Relations, Journal of Family

Issues, and Journal of Family and Economic Issues. She has received several prestigious awards, including Fellow in the National Council on Family Relations and the Distinguished Service Award given by The Society for the Psychological Study of Social Issues. She has also received from her university college the outstanding teaching, mentor, and research awards. Kristine M. Baber is an associate professor in the Department of Family Studies and a core faculty member in women’s studies at the University of New Hampshire (UNH). She also is the founding Director of the UNH Center on Adolescence, which provides education, training, and research capacity to support the well-being of adolescents and their families. She is one of the coauthors of New Hampshire’s strategic plan for adolescent health—an example of her commitment to putting theory and research into practice. In 2004, she was named one of the first Outreach Scholars at UNH. Her current research focuses on girls’ health and sexuality issues. Over the past 15 years, she has authored or coauthored a variety of publications, including a book, book chapters, and articles, exploring the utility of postmodern feminist theory for studying women and families. She received her PhD in family studies from the University of Connecticut. Sundari Balan is a doctoral candidate in psychology at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. Her interests are in the areas of gender and motherhood, immigration work, and mental health. Her dissertation looks at expectations for being “good Asian Indian working moms” examining motherhood, 395

396

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

work, resilience, and mental health among immigrant Asian Indian employed mothers in the United States. She coauthored “Culture, Son Preference and Beliefs About Masculinity” in the Journal of Research on Adolescence with Ram Mahalingam. She also wrote a chapter titled “Cultural Psychology and Marginality: Exploring the Immigrant Psychology of Indian Diaspora” with Ram Mahalingam and Cheri Philips, published in Cultural Psychology of Immigrants in 2006 (edited by R. Mahalingam). Dana Berkowitz is an assistant professor in the Department of Sociology and the program in women’s and gender studies at Louisiana State University. She is a feminist sociologist with a broad interest in the social construction of gender, sexualities, and families. Her dissertation research is a qualitative analysis of gay men’s reproductive decision-making and fathering experiences. Currently, she is engaged in an analysis of gay men’s procreative and fathering narratives that emerge as a result of reigning heteropatriarchal patterns. Her research in this area has appeared in Journal of Marriage and Family, Journal of GLBT Family Studies, and Qualitative Sociology. She is an active member of the Feminism and Family section of the National Council of Family Relations and her manuscript “Maternal Urges, Biological Clocks, and Soccer Moms: Toward a Theory of Gay Men’s Procreative Consciousness and Fathering Experiences” is the 2008 recipient of their Jesse Bernard Outstanding Research Paper Award. Libby Balter Blume is Professor of Psychology, Women’s and Gender Studies, and Architecture and Director of Developmental Psychology, Certified Family Life Education, and Community Development at the University of Detroit Mercy. She is founding editor of Michigan Family Review, book review editor for Journal of Family Theory and Review, and coauthor of two child development textbooks. Her current interests are feminist theory and praxis in family studies and dialectical approaches to studying family-level coconstructions of gender and ethnicity. Her publications include “Toward a Dialectical Model of Family Gender Discourse: Body, Identity, and Sexuality” in Journal of Marriage and Family (2003) and two coauthored chapters in the Sourcebook of Family Theory and Research (2005), “Multicultural and Critical Race Feminisms: Theorizing Families in the Third Wave” and “Decentering Heteronormativity: A Model for

Family Studies.” She recently coauthored a chapter on the social construction of White ethnic identities in the book Strengths and Challenges of New Immigrant Families: Implications for Research, Policy, Education, and Service (2008) and coedited a special collection on transnational families for Family Relations: Interdisciplinary Journal of Applied Family Studies. Donna Hendrickson Christensen is Professor Emerita of Family Studies and Human Development in the Norton School of Family and Consumer Sciences at the University of Arizona. Her current research interests include the role of the marital relationship in the development of emotional competence in preschool children, the influence of gender on parenting relationships, and the effects of stress, coping, and adjustment on family relationships following divorce. Amy Claxton is a doctoral candidate in the Clinical Psychology Program at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. Her areas of interest include social class, the intersection of social contexts, and marital relationships. Her dissertation investigates the function of social class indicators (income, education, and job prestige) within the working class and their implications for mental health. She recently published an article titled “No Fun Anymore: Leisure and Marital Quality Across the Transition to Parenthood” in the Journal of Marriage and Family. Ingrid Arnet Connidis is a professor of sociology in the Department of Sociology at the University of Western Ontario. Her work in the areas of family ties across the life course, adult sibling relationships, intergenerational relations, aging and policy implications, and conceptual and methodological issues in research on aging has been published in a variety of books and journals, including the Journal of Gerontology: Social Sciences, Journal of Marriage and Family, Canadian Journal on Aging, The Gerontologist, and Research on Aging. She is corecipient of the 2004 Richard Kalish Innovative Publication Award presented by the Behavioral and Social Science Section of the Gerontological Society of America for an article published in Journal of Marriage and Family (“Sociological Ambivalence and Family Ties: A Critical Perspective” with Julie Ann McMullin, 2002:64:558–567). Her current research focuses on family ties in mid- and late life, including siblings, gay and lesbian family

About the Contributors

members, and step-ties. Analysis of data from a qualitative study of multigenerational families is an ongoing pursuit. The second edition of her book Family Ties & Aging will appear in 2009. Manijeh Daneshpour is Professor and Director of the Marriage and Family Therapy Program at St. Cloud State University in Minnesota. She is the president of the Minnesota Board of Marriage and Family Therapy and previously has served as a membership chair for the Minnesota Association for Marriage and Family Therapists. She is from Iran and identifies herself as a Muslim feminist. She has conducted research related to lives of multicultural couples, especially Muslim couples and their struggles once they come to the United States. She works with multicultural families and has published articles and has made many presentations related to this topic. Her research interests and her publications are also in the areas of diversity, social justice, Muslim feminism, and the impact of trauma on family functioning. Anindita Das is a research associate at the Department of Educational Leadership, Foundations and Policy at the University of Virginia’s Curry School of Education. She is a PhD candidate at the Department of Human Development and Family Studies at Texas Tech University. Her research interests are in the broad area of immigrant identity, more particularly, the ways in which adolescents/young adults of immigrant parents negotiate multiple identities within particular contexts, as they explore, create, and revise their identities. For her dissertation, she drew on in-depth interviews to explore how these privileged second generation children have been placed into the dynamics of American society and the complexity of Indian society and transformed into the unique situation of being second generation. Thus, the discourses of identity produced in her study analyze how many second-generation Asian Indian college students deal with the profound contradiction of acknowledging their otherness and difference on one level and yet are willing to background their cultural differences. She also has a bachelor’s and a master’s degree in sociology from India. Lee Ann De Reus is an associate professor of human development and family studies and women studies at Pennsylvania State University Altoona. Her research interests include feminist theory construction and women’s ethnic identity

397

development. Representative publications include “Multicultural and Critical Race Feminisms: Theorizing Families in the Third Wave” (with Libby Balter Blume and April Few) in the Sourcebook of Family Theory and Research (2005) and “Transnational Families and the Social Construction of Identity: Whiteness Matters” (with Libby Balter Blume), in the book Strengths and Challenges of New Immigrant Families: Implications for Research, Policy, Education, and Service. Most recently, she and Blume coedited a special collection on transnational families for Family Relations: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Applied Family Studies. As an activist scholar, she leads annual international student service learning trips to Tanzania and the Dominican Republic. In 2007, she traveled to the Gaga refugee camp in Chad, where she collected stories of female Sudanese genocide survivors for awareness-raising presentations in the United States. Outside the academy, she is the founder of Bitches Without Borders and cofounder of Save Darfur: Central Pennsylvania. Nafissatou J. Diop works for the Population Council’s Reproductive Health program based in Senegal, implementing and monitoring operations research studies of reproductive health programs and services in West Africa, and in particular, studies on female genital cutting, adolescents, and maternal health. She provides technical assistance and capacity building to the ministries of health of several West African countries and to national NGOs. She joined the council in 1996. Her recent research has focused on testing strategies to improve adolescent reproductive health in the northern regions of Senegal. In southern Senegal and Burkina Faso she has also tested the effectiveness of the Village Empowerment Program developed by TOSTAN, an NGO that is using an integrated approach of human rights, health, hygiene, and problem solving to involve the community in the decision to abandon the practices of female genital cutting and early marriage. Currently, she is working on a postabortion care assessment in West Africa and female condom strategic planning for Francophone countries. She has a PhD in demography from the University of Montreal, a DEA in the socioeconomics of development, and a master’s in sociology from the University of Nanterre, Paris, France. Beth C. Emery is Professor of Child Development and Family Studies in the Department of Human Sciences at Middle Tennessee State University (MTSU). She is the coordinator of the Family and

398

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

Consumer Studies undergraduate program and a member of the Women’s Studies Program at MTSU. She teaches family studies and experiential learning courses, and her interests include qualitative and feminist methodology, attitudes toward feminism, and the impact of sexual aggression on young women. Her research has focused on intimate partner violence, specifically physical and sexual aggression in dating relationships. She coauthored several book chapters and the book The Dark Side of Courtship (2000) with Sally Lloyd and coauthored articles with Heather Kettrey on sibling violence and media as an information source on dating violence. Abbie E. Goldberg is an assistant professor of psychology at Clark University. Her main research interests are in the area of family diversity, work-family issues, lesbian/gay parenthood, adoption, and gender. She recently completed a longitudinal study on lesbian couples’ transition to biological parenthood, which explored changes in lesbian mothers’ social support, mental health, relationship quality, and the division of paid and unpaid labor across the transition to parenthood. Her most recent research focuses on heterosexual, lesbian, and gay couples’ transition to adoptive parenthood. Her work has appeared in a number of journals, including Journal of Marriage and Family, Family Relations, Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, and Journal of Family Psychology. She is the author of Lesbian and Gay Parents and Their Children: Research on the Family Life Cycle. She received her doctorate in clinical psychology from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. Masako Ishii-Kuntz is Professor of Social Sciences and Family Studies Department at Ochanomizu University, Tokyo, Japan. After teaching at the University of California, Riverside for 20 years, she returned to Japan in 2006 to pursue her feminist research on Japanese fathers and teaching at the oldest women’s college in Japan. Recent research projects include examining class-based patterns of paternal involvement in Japan, long-term effects of paternal involvement on children’s social development, and the use of Internet and cell phone technologies in fathering practices. Since her return to Japan, she has been actively involved in advising the governmental committees to facilitate work-life balance among

employed women and men. She is also an elected board member of the Japan Society of Family Sociology in which her efforts have centered on increasing the presence of Japanese scholars in overseas international conferences. Her new book, Writing, Presenting and Publishing Social Scientific Research Papers in English, is dedicated to this end. Based on her research expertise, she was invited to participate in the 2008 United Nations’ Expert Group Meeting that proposed policies aiming at the equal sharing of responsibilities between women and men worldwide. Christine E. Kaestle is an assistant professor in human development and a faculty affiliate in the Women’s Studies Program at Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University. She is a health behaviorist specializing in risk behaviors during adolescence and emerging adulthood. Her work uses a life course perspective to examine the intersection of sexual behaviors, aggression and violence, substance abuse, and the media as they influence health outcomes during this critical period of development. Her recent research examines gene-environment contributions to health behaviors. She teaches research methods, gender and family diversity, and human sexuality at Virginia Tech. Her publications include articles in American Journal of Epidemiology, Journal of Adolescent Health, Archives of Pediatrics and Adolescent Medicine, Perspectives on Sexual and Reproductive Health, and Prevention Science. She received her MSPH in community health from the University of California–Los Angeles and her PhD in maternal and child health at the University of North Carolina–Chapel Hill. Suzanne Klatt is a visiting lecturer in family studies and social work and a doctoral candidate in educational leadership (interdisciplinary) at Miami University. She is a licensed independent social worker supervisor (LISW-S). She is interested in feminist theory, the complex aspects of working with children in multidisciplinary environments, mindfulness interventions in the context of social work practice, and community partnership and engagement. She earned a master of social work (MSW) degree from the Ohio State University. Katherine A. Kuvalanka is an assistant professor of family studies in the Department of Family Studies and Social Work at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio. Her primary area of research

About the Contributors

interest is the experiences of children, youth, and adults with lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer (LGBTQ) parents. She has explored how young adults with lesbian mothers coped with heterosexism during adolescence in an effort to identify mechanisms of resilience. Currently, she is using a queer theoretical lens to examine the experiences of “Second Generation” youth (i.e., LGBTQ youth with LGBTQ parents). Having previously served as cochair of the board of directors of COLAGE (a nonprofit organization run by and for individuals with LGBTQ parents), she currently cochairs the COLAGE Research Review Committee, screening requests from researchers and briefing staff on relevant research studies/findings in the field. She also recently joined the editorial board of the Journal of GLBT Family Studies. In 2007, she received her PhD in family studies from the University of Maryland, College Park, where she also earned her MS in family studies with a specialization in marriage and family therapy in 2002. Leigh A. Leslie is Associate Professor of Family Science and an adjunct faculty member in women’s studies at the University of Maryland at College Park. She is a licensed marriage and family therapist and psychologist and has a private practice in relationship and family issues. Over her research career, gender has been a constant lens through which she has examined questions concerning family functioning, including social support, divorce, and work-family balance, and questions concerning the practice of family therapy. In 1994, she coedited Gender, Families, and Close Relationships: Feminist Research Journeys with Donna Sollie. Her current research focuses on the intersection of gender and race in couple and family relationships. Recent publications include “Biracial Females: Reflections on Racial Identity Development” (with K. Kelch-Oliver) in Journal of Feminist Family Therapy (2006), “Marital Quality in Interracial Relationships: The Role of Sex Role Ideology and Perceived Fairness” (with N. Forry and B. Letiecq) in Journal of Family Issues (2007), and “Intersectionality and Work-Family Studies” (with Stephen Marks) in American Families: A Multicultural Reader, edited by S. Coontz (2008). Edith A. Lewis is an associate professor of social work at the University of Michigan. Her primary research interests are methods used by women of color to offset personal, familial,

399

community, and professional role strain. To date, this has included involvement in studies identifying strengths within African American women’s communities, the intersections of gender and ethnicity in the lives of women of color, outcomes of an intervention project for pregnant substance-dependent women, multiple role strains for faculty women of color, multicultural organizational development, isolating the successful methods used by Ghanaian women in community development projects, and the development of the Network Utilization Project intervention to systematically address individual, family, and community concerns. She earned her BA in 1973 and her MSW in 1975, both from the University of Minnesota, and her PhD in 1985 from the University of Wisconsin–Madison. Ana A. Lucero-Liu is currently a program evaluator for Pima Prevention Partnership, a nonprofit organization in Tucson, Arizona. During her time as a graduate student, she minored in Mexican American studies with a focus on Chicanas. Her research interests include family and relationship research, the experiences of Mexican-origin families, and gender in close relationships. She received her doctorate in 2007 from the Department of Family Studies and Human Development in the John and Doris Norton School of Family and Consumer Sciences at the University of Arizona, where her dissertation focused on the family relationships of Mexican-origin women. Ramaswami (Ram) Mahalingam is Associate Professor of Psychology at the University of Michigan. Using a social marginality perspective, his research examines the role of essentialism, power, and culture in shaping beliefs about race, caste, ethnicity, and gender. Within this overarching theme, he has conducted three lines of research: (a) implicit theories of social identities using various paradigms designed to elicit beliefs in essential or unchangeable features of various social identities; (b) the relationship between various kinds of gender essentialist beliefs and mental health in caste groups with a history of female infanticide in India; and (c) the mental health consequences of endorsing idealized essentialist beliefs about one’s social group (i.e., the “model minority myth” among Asian Americans) for first- and second-generation Asian American men, women, and adolescents in

400

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

the United States. These areas of work all focus on how essentialist representations of social categories are related to social discrimination and how such construals are influenced by factors such as group status, power, gender, and immigration. He has edited two books (Multicultural Curriculum: New Directions for Social Theory, Practice and Policy, 2000, with Cameron McCarthy; Cultural Psychology of Immigrants, 2006). Lori A. McGraw is a research associate and internship coordinator in the Department of Human Development and Family Sciences at Oregon State University. Her areas of interest include feminist theory, qualitative methods, and family care. Her research focuses on how sociocultural ideas and practices shape caregivers’ identities and relationships, and how caregivers creatively use sociocultural ideas to construct purposeful lives. She coedited Families in Later Life: Connections and Transitions in Middle and Later Life (2001, with Walker, Manoogian-O’Dell, and White). Her graduate student Hyun-Kyung You recently won the Jessie Bernard Award for Outstanding Proposal From a Feminist Perspective from the National Council on Family Relations for their work on a paper titled, “South Korean and European American Mothers Who Have Children With Autism Spectrum Disorders” (2006, with MacTavish). She herself is a winner of the 2002 Outstanding Contribution to Feminist Scholarship Award in Honor of Jessie Bernard. Finally, she was a top-20 finalist for the 2001 Rosabeth Moss Kanter Award for Excellence in Work-Family Research.

intersections of ethnicity, class, gender, and sexuality. She is particularly interested in examining how Latina/os conceptualize inequality and discrimination, how they legitimate their particular life circumstances, and how these experiences are related to overall and domain-specific functioning. Her current work examines the various cultural and context-specific dimensions of resilience that enable Latino youth to successfully negotiate their academic demands and career aspirations. She has published on topics relating to women of color, diversity, higher education, the psychology graduate application process, and public speaking anxiety among college women, and has presented at conferences on these and other related topics. She has also received numerous awards, including a National Science Foundation Graduate Fellowship, a Ford Foundation Diversity Predoctoral Fellowship, a NIAAA Diversity Supplement Grant, Society for the Psychological Study of Social Issues Diversity Travel Award, and a National Women’s Studies Association Women of Color Essay Award. She earned her BA in psychology from Smith College.

Niveditha Menon graduated from Pennsylvania State University with a doctorate in sociology and demography, with a minor in women’s studies. Her primary research interests include the use of agency by women who respond to domestic violence, sexual trafficking, and other forms of violence against women. Her dissertation field research in India focused on the different types of control women experience, and the coping mechanisms that women use in the context of domestic violence. She works as a consultant on gender issues in Hyderabad, India.

Ramona Faith Oswald is Associate Professor of Family Studies at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. She is cofounder (with Batya Hyman) of the National Council on Family Relations’ GLBT-Straight Alliance, and a former chair of the NCFR Feminism and Family Studies section. A past recipient of both the Anselm Strauss Award for qualitative research and the Jessie Bernard Award for feminist research, her current work examines how social context shapes the family lives of GLBT people, especially in nonmetropolitan contexts. Recent publications include “Generative Ritual Among Nonmetropolitan Lesbians and Gay Men” (Journal of Marriage and Family, 2008, with Brian Masciadrelli); “Same-Sex Couples, Legal Complexities” (Journal of Family Issues, 2008, with Kate Kuvalanka); and “Social and Moral Commitment Among Same-Sex Couples” (Journal of Family Psychology, 2008, with Kate Kuvalanka, Abbie Goldberg, and Eric Clausell). She is committed to pushing and holding doors open so that our students and junior colleagues can continue to think queerly.

Kristine M. Molina is a doctoral student in the joint PhD program in personality and social contexts psychology and women’s studies at the University of Michigan. Her research lies at the

Maureen Perry-Jenkins is Professor and Division Head in Clinical Psychology at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. Her research focuses on the ways in which sociocultural factors, such as

About the Contributors

race, gender, and social class, shape the mental health and family relationships of employed parents and their children. Her current research involves a 10-year, longitudinal study funded by the National Institute of Mental Health that examines the transition to parenthood and transition back to paid employment for working-class, low-wage couples and for African American, Latina, and European American single mothers. The project examines how risk and resilience factors across these multiple life transitions affect new parents’ well-being, relationship quality, and the socioemotional well-being of their children. She is the author of numerous articles and chapters published in Journal of Marriage and Family, Journal of Family Psychology, and Family Relations. She was a recent recipient of the University of Massachusetts Distinguished Outreach Research Award for her efforts to apply her research to policy. Layli D. Phillips is Associate Professor of Women’s Studies at Georgia State University and Editor of the The Womanist Reader (2006), which documents the first quarter-century of womanist thought “on its own.” Her current scholarly interests center around applied womanism and spiritual activism, and she has published and taught in the areas of Africana LGBTQIQ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, Intersex, and Questioning) studies and women and Hip Hop. She continues research and writing on both the scientific activism of Kenneth B. and Mamie P. Clark and the liberation psychology of Ignacio Martin-Baro. Her extracurricular interests include alternative medicine and holistic healing, meditation, mysticism, and spiritual traditions/practices from around the globe, both ancient and contemporary. She received her PhD in Developmental Psychology from Temple University. Christine M. Proulx is an assistant professor in the Department of Human Development and Family Studies at the University of Missouri (MU). Her research interests focus on the links between interpersonal relationships and individual well-being, with an emphasis on the role of context, gender, and chronic disorders. She is also interested in the study of dyads over time. Her most recent work has focused on the links between marriage and spouses’ well-being, particularly depressive symptoms. She is extending that line of inquiry to include couples who are

401

coping with chronic health disorders. Before joining the MU faculty in 2007, she was a postdoctoral fellow in the Department of Human Ecology at The University of Texas, and received her doctoral degree from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro in 2006. Constance L. Shehan is Professor and Chair of the Department of Sociology and Criminology & Law at the University of Florida. Her research and teaching focus on gender, families, work, health, and aging. She is Editor of the Journal of Family Issues. Her most recent book, coauthored with Sara Crawley and Lara Foley, was published in 2007 as part of the Gender Lens series. Its title, Gendering Bodies, reflects her recent work on “the body” in family and gender studies. She has served as Chair of the Feminism and Family Studies section of the National Council on Family Relations (NCFR) and as Director of the Women’s Studies Program at the University of Florida. She is also a fellow of the NCFR. She was a co-PI on a Ford Foundation grant awarded to the Feminist Majority Foundation designed to integrate more academic work into Ms. Magazine. Donna L. Sollie is Assistant Provost for Women’s Initiatives and Professor of Human Development and Family Studies at Auburn University, where she has served as the director of the Women’s Studies Program, as Alumni Professor, and as a member of the President’s Commission on the Status of Women and Minorities. As Assistant Provost for Women’s Initiatives, she oversees a mentoring and support network program for new women faculty, advises the central administration on retention and advancement of women and minorities, oversees the Women’s Resource Center and WISE Institute (the Women in Science and Engineering Institute) Program, and fosters collaborative efforts with groups across campus to address issues that affect women’s status and advancement. She has written numerous articles and book chapters on the influences of gender and gender-role orientation on individual and relationship outcomes, including patterns of communication, relationship maintenance, expressive marital behaviors, and relationship satisfaction. She received her PhD in family studies from the University of Tennessee. Ashley L. Southard is a licensed couple and family therapist and family researcher. Her

402

HANDBOOK OF FEMINIST FAMILY STUDIES

areas of interest include eating disorders, feminist couple and family therapy, qualitative research, cultural competence, and mental health policy analysis. She recently conducted research using data collected from clinical couples who experience mild to moderate levels of abuse in their relationship. Her study investigated the degree to which partners’ attributions and levels of commitment predict their behaviors during conflict; the manuscript is currently under review. She is also in the process of writing articles from her dissertation, which used feminist theory and qualitative methodologies to explore racial-minority women’s experiences with eating disorders within their familial and racial/cultural contexts. Findings from this study have implications for how clinical programs can be culturally sensitive in their efforts to appropriately recruit and treat minority individuals affected by eating disorders. She is an active member in the eating disorder community and currently serves as a founding board member for the Eating Disorder Network of Central Maryland and the Binge Eating Disorder Association. She received her PhD from the University of Maryland at College Park. Dionne P. Stephens is an assistant professor with a joint appointment in the Department of Psychology and African New World Studies at Florida International University (FIU). Her research examines sociohistorical factors shaping minority populations’ sexual scripting and sexual health processes, with emphasis on gender and ethnic/racial identity development. She is author of several articles on scripting processes, sexual health, and theoretical paradigm issues related to racial/ethnic minorityfocused research. A popular, award-winning teacher, she is a recipient of both the Blackboard International Online Program’s Greenhouse Exemplary Course Award and the University of Georgia’s Gwendolyn Brooks O’Connell Award for Outstanding Teaching. She offers classes on the psychology of women, the psychology of health, and race, gender, and sexuality in Hip Hop, among other topics. She received her PhD in Child and Family Development from The University of Georgia–Athens. John W. Townsend is the director of the Population Council’s Reproductive Health program. As program director, he is responsible for

the development and implementation of a strategy to promote better reproductive health and family planning programs worldwide through operations research. In his more than 20 years at the council, he has served as the director of the Frontiers in Reproductive Health program; the regional director for Latin America and the Caribbean (1990–1993) in Mexico; the country director for Colombia (1984); and the director of operations research programs in Latin America and the Caribbean (1985–1990) and also Asia and the Near East (1993–1998). Before joining the council, he served for 8 years with the Institute of Nutrition for Central America and Panama, in Guatemala. He is a frequent presenter at professional meetings and has published extensively. He holds a doctorate in social psychology with supporting studies in public affairs and educational psychology from the University of Minnesota. In 2006, he received USAID’s Marjorie Horn Operations Research Award for excellence in conducting and utilization of research. Lynet Uttal has been an associate professor in human development and family studies at the University of Wisconsin–Madison since 2002. She was trained in sociology at the University of California–Santa Cruz (UCSC), and she graduated in 1993. She has been inspired by UCSC and the Center for Research on Women at Memphis State University to conduct socially relevant research and develop grounded critical theoretical concepts. Her thinking is influenced by feminist thought, multiracial feminist family scholarship, qualitative sociology, and community-based research. In 2002, she published Making Care Work: Employed Mothers in the New Childcare Market. For the past 4 years, she has been the codirector of Formando Lazos, a research and education project for Latino immigrant parents. She was fortunate to work with a great team of community partners and students to develop this program. The program collected data on contemporary issues for new immigrant parents while simultaneously providing a space for immigrants to support one another in their adaptation and development of bicultural parenting practices in the United States. Recently, she has been teaching courses about racial-ethnic families, immigrant families, and biculturalism and is director of the Asian American Studies Program at the University of Wisconsin–Madison.

About the Contributors

Brad van Eeden-Moorefield is a certified family life educator and assistant professor of human development and family studies at Central Michigan University. His research focuses on the processes of relationship development and maintenance among LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender) families and stepfamilies and on the use of the Internet to conduct both qualitative and quantitative research. He recently published a longitudinal study with Kay Pasley that examines marital processes that predict instability among stepfamilies. It was published in The International Handbook of Stepfamilies: Policy and Practice in Legal, Research, and Clinical Environments, edited by Jan Pryor. He also published a theoretical piece in the Journal of GLBT Family Studies titled “A Theory of Resilience Applied to Couples Affected by HIV/AIDS.” Currently, he is working on a study that examines the similarities and differences in relationship processes among gay men in their first cohabiting relationships, repartnerships, or stepfamilies and a second study that examines the role of LGBT supportive and nonsupportive work climates in facilitating work-family spillover among lesbian and gay male couples. He received his MSW from a joint program at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro and North Carolina Agricultural & Technical State University and his PhD from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. Alexis J. Walker holds the Petersen Chair in Gerontology and Family Studies at Oregon State University where she is Professor and Chair in the Department of Human Development and Family Sciences. She was past president of the National Council on Family Relations and she was a member of Human Development and Aging Subcommittee 2 of the Division of Research Grants of the National Institutes of Health. She has published on family caregiving; the division of household labor, gender, and power in close

403

relationships; feminist pedagogy; and the place of feminism in the study of families. Her research, which has been supported by the National Institute on Aging, has appeared in Family Relations, The Gerontologist, the Journal of Family Issues, the Journals of Gerontology, the Journal of Marriage and Family, Social Psychology Quarterly, and the Psychology of Women Quarterly. She recently completed a 6-year term as editor of the Journal of Marriage and Family (JMF), the foremost journal in family studies. Her current research continues to bring life course and feminist perspectives to the study of adults in family relationships. She received her PhD in human development and family studies from the Pennsylvania State University. Rebecca L. Warner is Professor of Sociology at Oregon State University and holds program faculty status in Public Policy and Women Studies. She is coauthor, with Karen Seccombe, of Marriages and Families: Relationships in Social Context. Her primary research interests focus on the intersections of family, gender, and public policy. She served as Chair of the Department of Sociology for 9 years, and she is the 2008 recipient of the university’s C. Curtis Mumford Faculty Service Award. Anisa Mary Zvonkovic is Professor and Department Chair in Human Development and Family Studies (HDFS) at Texas Tech University. She studies intimate relationships, in particular the connection between paid work and personal life. Her recent research focus has been on the work and family lives of individuals whose jobs require them to travel frequently. Trained in psychology and religious studies, she obtained her graduate degrees from HDFS at Penn State. Her interdisciplinary training and work, her involvement in the interdisciplinary organization of the National Council on Family Relations, and her intercultural life experiences were catalysts for the chapter she contributed.

Supporting researchers for more than 40 years Research methods have always been at the core of SAGE’s publishing program. Founder Sara Miller McCune published SAGE’s first methods book, Public Policy Evaluation, in 1970. Soon after, she launched the Quantitative Applications in the Social Sciences series—affectionately known as the “little green books.” Always at the forefront of developing and supporting new approaches in methods, SAGE published early groundbreaking texts and journals in the fields of qualitative methods and evaluation. Today, more than 40 years and two million little green books later, SAGE continues to push the boundaries with a growing list of more than 1,200 research methods books, journals, and reference works across the social, behavioral, and health sciences. Its imprints—Pine Forge Press, home of innovative textbooks in sociology, and Corwin, publisher of PreK–12 resources for teachers and administrators—broaden SAGE’s range of offerings in methods. SAGE further extended its impact in 2008 when it acquired CQ Press and its best-selling and highly respected political science research methods list. From qualitative, quantitative, and mixed methods to evaluation, SAGE is the essential resource for academics and practitioners looking for the latest methods by leading scholars. For more information, visit www.sagepub.com.