I Saw Sociology When…

I’m also taking psychology COD along with sociology. There are not a lot of us in that class, so it’s easy to notice each other. The other day, I noticed a boy who I suppose people could describe as a skater, stoner, whatever, wearing black nail polish. My first thought was, “that’s weird,” but then I was like, “why do I think that?” I’m assuming I think boys wearing nail polish is weird because by gender roles, it’s defined that only girls wear nail polish. It reminds me of when I was younger and putting clear nail polish on with a lot of my boy cousins around. They all wanted to try it and see what it felt like (cause it’s CRAZY different from not wearing nail polish), but only decided to do it when it was clear that all of them would do it, so none of them would be singled out. Worked out for me cause I got to practice giving manicures.

I Hate Gender Roles

More specifically, I hate women’s gender roles because it makes us the stereotypically weaker, gentler, slower, less ambitious, more stupid sex. Those stereotypes were proven by that trait list we did in class. The sad thing is that that list was made in the 50-60’s, but many of those stereotypes still exist today, when statically, they shouldn’t exist at all.

According to the New York Times, the “Department of Education statistics show that men, whatever their race or socioeconomic group, are less likely than women to get bachelor's degrees — and among those who do, fewer complete their degrees in four or five years. Men also get worse grades than women. Men now make up only 42 percent of the nation's college students.” The New York Times also says, “From the time they are young, boys are far more likely than girls to be suspended or expelled, or have a learning disability or emotional problem diagnosed. As teenagers, they are more likely to drop out of high school, commit suicide or be incarcerated.” http://www.nytimes.com/2006/07/09/education/09college.html?pagewanted=5

With facts like these, it just pissed me off that the stereotypes for women are that they’re the lesser of the 2 sexes, when really they should be equal or dare I say it, better.

Chinese Mother

I actually agree with Amy Chua on her extreme type of parenting. In the end, her daughter Lulu was able to play the piece she was trying to learn and enjoyed playing it once she got it. I played almost every sport possible and quit every one when I was a kid. I wished my parents had forced me to stay in swimming. My uncle was visiting from California when he and my mom took me to my first official swim lesson. He says that the swim coach came up to my mom after the lesson and said, “I normally don’t do this, but can we put her in a meet this weekend?” My mom agreed and my uncle proudly says I won the race they put me in. I did swimming for about a year before I quit. I just got bored with it, every day doing the same strokes in the same lanes, so I threw an tantrum and got my way. But I wish my mom had been a “Chinese mother” and forced me to stay in it.    

I think she could be doing the right thing. I’m friends with a lot of oriental people who also have a “Chinese father” as well as a “Chinese mother.” Not to be stereotypical, but every single one of them fall into the smart Asian category. They are all academically smart and are good behaving kids. I don’t know yet if they’re screwed up for the rest of their lives, but maybe I’ll see at our high school reunion. I don’t think they would be because I think what they took from their upbringing was to be hard working people.

I know Freud believed in the stages of development, but I don’t see how a “Chinese mother” is interfering in those phases. If there is any interference, it may be trying to push their kid to fast, like having them learn to read too early.

Culture Shock

One of the biggest culture shocks of my life was I went downtown with an organization called Chicago’s Beloved to hand out sandwiches to the homeless and to pray with them.

I know homeless people are in everyone’s culture, but I feel like they’re almost another culture to themselves because we Americans sure as hell make sure they don’t mingle with us. I don’t know how they live, I don’t know their social rules. I don’t know them just like I don’t know people in Taiwan.

On Jackson boulevard right before you cross the bridge, there is a homeless man named Larry. If you take this way often, you know him by his district voice when he calls out for change. He was one of the first ever homeless people I met.

I hung back when my group of three others went to greet him because I had no idea what to expect. He shook everyone’s hands and gave Josh, one of the founders of CB, a hug. I moved forward and also shook his hands. We talked to him about the weather, his health and other things. Josh asked if he wanted us to pray for him and he said yes, so we all joined hands and bowed our heads. Larry started the prayer, and prayed for us. He was praying for us. Young kids (to him) that had warm clothes on their backs, money in our pockets, warm homes to go back to, and basically anything we need available to us. I was so… shocked. And so humbled. Here was a man standing before me, who literally is the definition of fallen on hard times, and he was praying for me, a kid who has more than I’ll ever need. And he was praying for my life.

I had never felt so lucky in my life. I have also never been so disappointed in myself. As a kid going downtown to see the museums or a show, your parents instinctively pull you away from anyone homeless. You’re either taught to just ignore the homeless, or are just too shy and too unsure of what to do when you pass them. I had passed countless homeless people all my life, and I have never had a complete conversation with one. I had passed up the chance countless times to maybe brighten someone’s days by just acknowledging that they exist and treating them like a human being and not a fixture on the concrete sidewalk.

Culture shock? More like a culture wake up.

Culture Clash

Culture Clash

One of the most significant culture clashes I have ever witnessed was when I went on my mission trip last year.

I went on a mission trip through Wheaton Bible to West Chicago (yeah, it’s kind of awkward to tell people that when they live in West Chicago, and also a bit awkward when you’re on a trip with a bunch of very nice kids, but they all go to Wheaton and Warrenville schools, and you go to West Chicago). We stayed in a church literally blocks from the high school and would travel every day to the Westwood Apartments by Aldi to partner with our sister church Puente del Pueblo to run a day camp for children.

The day camp was almost all Catholic Hispanic children. All us where non-denominational Christians (except for me) and we were all white, except for about 3 of us. Before we went on the trip, a man from Puente del Pueblo came in and had to explain how wary Catholics are of other religions. I found it really amusing because I was raised Catholic, and technically still am because I attend both masses at St. John, and services at Wheaton Bible. Many of my peers were really confused and kept on asking, “why?” While the man answered the questions, I thought of my parents. They very much dislike Wheaton Bible, even to this day, and I have been attending that church for 2 years. The main reason is that they don’t follow Catholic traditions, and because my parents totally believe Wheaton stereotypes. Before I went on the trip, my dad told me to look for signs of them being superior and looking down on “new Christians” When I came home from the trip, my mom, my dad, and my brother all asked how the trip was. When I said, “amazing,” they all looked really surprised and said, “really?”

But I digress. At the camp, I worked the sign up station (which was actually a bad move because I know about 3 sentences in Spanish and all the parents signing up the kids usually only spoke fluent Spanish) so I was almost always observing the kids interacting with our volunteers. The kids generally seemed quiet and shy around the volunteers. I thought it was because of the language barrier, but my Honduran friend Adam, who spoke Spanish flawlessly, still said that the kids seemed quiet and shy around him. I think they were mostly shy because they couldn’t relate to these non-Catholic white teenagers. We just came from different cultures. Some of it was small things, like many of the kids seemed confused when our volunteers would say a prayer and say amen, but wouldn’t make the sign of the cross. It was just culturally hard to relate to them.

By the end of the trip, some of the kids had opened up, but not as many as my volunteer peers would have liked.

Folkways

Folkways are commonly broken and kept in the locker room.

Today, I came out of the girl’s bathroom in the locker room to wash my hands only to discover there was no soap left in either dispenser. As a slight germaphobe, this greatly alarmed me, but I also realized that to not wash your hands is breaking a folkway. After standing there for a couple of seconds with just wet hands and puzzling over what to do, I walked back to my backpack to use my travel sized hand sanitizer (which no good germaphobe would be without) and wondered if any society thought that actually washing your hands was not to be done. I found that one third of Australian men don’t wash their hands, but I don’t know if that’s a cultural thing, or just a gross thing.

Another folkway in the locker room is to NEVER look at another person while that person is changing. Even when I’m changing by friends, we make an effort to not look at each other while switching into our gym clothes. It just kind of a common curtsey thing for privacy because no one actually really wants to change in front of a bunch of people, whether you know them or not.

I’m not sure if this would be considered a folkway or a more, but I trust the other people around me to not be taking pictures of me when they have their cell phones out. No one is supposed to have cell phones out in the locker rooms because of pictures and privacy (or so our gym teachers tell us), but everyone always does because there’s no teachers to be walking around and checking if we have them out. One day I was changing and noticed a girl standing like 8 feet away from me with her phone out, probably texting, and I realized with a jolt she could be taking a picture of me, but I disregard it a second later because it’s a social rule and I also trust members of society to not do that.  

American Symbols

America is represented by an eagle for many reasons, instead of the turkey like Benjamin Franklin wanted to be the national bird. Eagles are cunning, bright, fierce, strong, and mostly independent, just like America. The Eagle is also as free as any creature could be because they have the freedom to fly, just like America is one of the freest nations in the world.

America is definitely more a salad then a mixing pot or soup. Everything is together, but it contains its only person identify, just like everyone in America is together, but their keep their own culture. If America was a mixing pot, wouldn’t every different nationality conform and we’d all speak the same, wear the same clothes, have the same traditions and religion? The salad keeps its leafiness and the tomato keeps its seeds, but they still live together.

America is like football. It’s unique and not a lot of other countries play or follow it. America is a very unique country because not a lot of other nations have the same liberties or freedoms we have. And of course football is unique to America because we’re the only ones that call it football when the rest of the world calls it… I don’t even know what they call (rugby? Handball?), but their football is soccer to us.

Okay, I don’t know the first thing about cars, so this is the first car that came up in Google when I typed in “fastest and newest car.” The car is like America because it’s apparently very fast, just like the culture of America. We are always moving. I went with my friend Maddy to her Spain trip meeting and Mrs. Bellis said the seven times she has been to Spain, she has only ever seen one fast food drive-in place. Dinner in Spain is about connecting, while dinner in America is about getting fuel to still move as fast as we can, like how cars need fuel. We can’t run on empty. This car is apparently the newest car too, which is like America because we always want the newest thing. We are never content with what we have. 

This Obama campaign poster represents America in so many ways. The poster itself says progress, and America is all about progress. America is always trying to advance anyone possible and push the envelope of achievement.  The obvious part is as president, Obama represents America. He represents America’s choice in voting and its democracy. Another obvious part is the colors represent the America flag, which also represents America.