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October 30, 2007 Outsider/Insider
I finished this recently: Because that's just how much fun I am. In it, Ms. Lipsitz-Bem (she of An Unconventional Family, one of my favourite parenting books of all time) proposes a psychological theory of how the culture imposes its lenses (or ways of seeing and structuring reality) on the individual, and how the individual then learns to become an active participant in seeing and structuring reality the same way; she also tries to account for how some people fail to become what she terms "cultural natives." She calls this learning to see the lens, instead of seeing through it. Her description of how this happens is fuzzy. She proposes a biohistorical model of human difference--that while most people are born malleable enough into societies that demand something of them which is in enough accordance with their inborn temperaments that rebellion is unnecessary, some are born stubborn and different enough into societies that demand things of them that they are incapable of providing, and rebelling becomes the only way to maintain psychological integrity, or a sense of self. Beyond this she provides few details for what the mechanism specifically is: her one convincing example in the book is a description of the maturation process for non-heterosexual people. They try to conform; when it becomes apparent that conformance is impossible, that they are incapable of living happily in heterosexual relationships, they rebel; the rebellion is at first intensely distressful and upsetting, but as a community of like-minded souls is found, a new sense of self develops, and the person learns how to see the presumption of heterosexuality as a norm is false, is a lens, and not reality. In my post about Collaborative Narratives, I concluded by saying that the problem arises when you can't fit yourself into the stories your society tells. And now I'm going to suggest that combining these two theories--Lipsitz-Bem's about cultural lens transference and Bruner's about the narrative construction of reality--both highlights important flaws in each and constructs a tidy little theory of social change. (I'm so excited! You can go ahead and say it, BubandPie: I'm such an intj.) Bruner's theory about how stories create social reality fills in the gap about how cultural lenses are created and transferred to the individual. The cultural reality we live in is, in Bruner's view, essentially a collection of stories, the weight of centuries or millennia of narrative accrual. I'm going to suggest that one of the ways, and perhaps the most important way, that cultural lenses are transferred to the individual is when the individual becomes aware of all the stories in the culture and attempts to locate themselves in those stories. According to Bruner, children at very young ages (3 or even 2) use narrative in this way innately, reflexively; use stories to talk about their lives, yes, but also to come to an agreement with someone else about what has just happened, to negotiate reality with other people. So at a very young age children must become aware of all of the relevant stories they hear about social and personal reality: This Is What Good Children Are Like. This is What Good Girls are Like. This is What Good Boys are Like. This is What Good Students Are Like. This is What Good Friends are Like. All composed of stories upon stories. And then children try to locate themselves within these stories, identify the most important components of Goodness as revealed in the stories we tell, and make themselves fit. So Bruner's theory slots very neatly into the hole in Lipsitz-Bem's. But Bruner's theory itself has a hole, in that it presupposes that the social reality thus created by narrative is actually real instead of ideal or preferred. Lipsitz-Bem's arguments about cultural lenses makes clear that the stories so created are still just that, stories, and that there is actual objective biological reality outside of those social stories. The social reality so created is less of a social reality than a socially-negotiated agreement. We all agree to agree, for instance, on what constitutes a Good Friend. We do this by telling stories about particular friendships that, over time, add up to an image of the ideal. I think that social change happens when a person or a group of people realizes that their inner stories about themselves and their own lives are fundamentally incompatible and irreconciliable with the dominant cultural stories about who they are supposed to be or what their lives are supposed to be like. Take The Good Mother. Over millennia, we have told stories about mothers both good and bad that, glued together, present an idealized image of the Good Mother. She is self-sacrificing. She puts her children before herself. She does not want to be separated from her children. She loves her children more than her male partner. She puts her personal ambitions aside to serve her children's needs and desires. She is warm, physically affectionate, playful, and never bored. She revels in tiny hands and squeaky voices. She will not accept less than the best for her children, and will tirelessly work to provide it (within the home). She maintains a spotless environment for her children, provides her children with nutritious foods and somehow coaxes them down the gullet, and encourages them to reach their full potential. All of this gathered together from the stories told in religious texts, novels, stories, TV shows, movies, hallmark cards, magazines, newspaper articles, published studies, gossip, and even jokes. Only a group of people (mothers) are vocally protesting that they cannot locate themselves within the social reality (The Good Mother) constructed by these narratives. Result: social change. Slow, but still. One of the ways in which that social change is happening is through the accrual of new narratives about what Good Mothers are actually like. A new vision of the Good Mother is being actively constructed through the exchange of stories told by the women who cannot locate themselves within the traditional narrative. It also explains the insider/outsider phenomenon in a much more satisfying way (to me) than simply claiming that some people are biologically or inherently incapable of conforming with expectations. Those expectations are transmitted through the stories we tell (even when they don't look like stories--gossip, jokes, slurs, greeting cards and advertisements are also narratives in this sense). Some of us realize one day that we cannot fit ourselves into the socially constructed reality we live in, that the stories we hear reflect nothing about the lives we are living. At first (following Lipsitz-Bem's model) we probably reject our own stories, our own reality. Then we reject the culture's instead. On a personal level, one becomes an outsider when one cannot live out the narrative script of a member of one's demographic group. When one is incapable of conforming to the expectations laid out in the social reality constructed by narrative, and constructs a new personal narrative to explain the gap between one's own actually lived life and the supposed or ideal life proposed by society. On a societal level, when one person or a group of people creates a new narrative to explain the gap between perceived reality and the socially-agreed-upon narrative reality, and then tries to transpose that new narrative on to or over top of the existing cultural narrative, they become activists. Posted by Andrea at October 30, 2007 8:43 AM under Books EMAIL this entry (comments fields are below this section) Comments Fascinating. Seriously fascinating. I'd love to discuss these ideas more, because I know I've personally been handed the 'stories' and been treated as excessively angry for directly objecting to them (my work is NOT a hobby) and as problematic for insisting that it has as much value as the architect or lawyer's work. I'm going to read these books, I think the idea of narrative and definition could hold something for me in the way of memory research. Posted by: rachel at October 30, 2007 9:01 AM
I like this very much! That means I'm a mini-activist trying to change the minds and perceptions (one visit at a time) of my nieces and nephews. I want to open thier minds to life beyond what thier parents are teaching them. Hooray for a wonderful post! Posted by: LauraJ at October 30, 2007 11:11 AM
I also prefer your theory to the idea that some people are biologically "outside" the norm. This smells way to close to eugenics or something like that, at least potentially. I agree that the idea of reconstructing ideas through new narrative. And the Good Mother. You've read Sarah Blaffer Hrdy haven't you? Julie Posted by: Julie Pippert at October 30, 2007 1:14 PM
I love Sarah Blaffer Hrdy. MOther Nature is one of my favourite books. Granted, the list of my favourite books is several hundred long; but she's on there. Posted by: Andrea
This is really interesting. I like your thoughts about finding oneself within the stories. My son is not especially talkative but I can hear my daughter telling stories about herself and our family. "One day," she says... Also, I just realized something. *I* recognize The Good Mother as a theoretical ideal, not as something that a person can actually achieve; and so I give myself a break. And I expect other people to do the same, since everyone knows that it's just an ideal, don't they? Posted by: Jennifer at October 30, 2007 6:40 PM
Something else to keep in mind is what 'society' means. I figure I belong to a couple of societies -- Bend, Oregon, the American West, the US, the Western World. Web developers, bloggers, mothers. When I moved to Oregon I felt at home quickly, which I think means that in its stories about itself, I recognized myself. More than in the American Northeast's stories. In a similar way I feel terribly uncomfortable among other web developers, esp. the programmer-type. I think that's why I'm always looking for a different career. Posted by: Jennifer at October 30, 2007 6:45 PM
You're making me laugh. I thought I did a very good job of NOT saying "You're such an INTJ" in response to your last post. ;) I've been immersed for many years in the doctrines of social constructionism, which ordinarily work by rejecting the idea of any "reality" that lies outside of language and ideology. It has always seemed to me that there is something profoundly disempowering about that notion - that we are all simply cogs in the ideological wheel. The closest thing I've come across in the lit-crit realm to a critique of that was a theory that one acquires a degree of freedom from the points of conflict between overlapping ideologies. In a multi-cultural society we're never simply the recipients of ONE master narrative: we are exposed to multiple overlapping cultures and that overlaps creates certain fissures that we can potentially exploit. Still, I think a robust concept of reality is a stronger basis for activism than simply a strategic preference for one narrative over the other. Posted by: bubandpie at October 30, 2007 7:40 PM
Jennifer, that is a good point. And see, B&P; you didn't have to say it, because I said it for you. I don't know if I said that as well as I want to. I don't think it is a strategic preference--I think it is a realization on the part of those who can't fit into the master narrative that the problem lies in the narrative, and not in them--and then a construction of an alternate narrative as a direct challenge to the status quo. Ideally, those alternate narratives would be based on reality, or at the very least on something closer to reality than the current master narrative. I just finished another book, Steven Pinker's The Stuff of Thought, which deals with how human languages reflect the universal patterns of human thought, which I thought while I was reading it that you would probably like. It has a place in all of this too, I'm just not there yet. He makes a pretty strong argument for language reflecting reality; but I think there is a common ground between Pinker's "language reflects reality" and Bruner's "narrative creates reality," and it lies in realizing that there is a difference between language and narrative, and a difference between scientific or material reality and the cultures and institutions we shape through narrative that we all pretend are "real" in an absolute sense, when they're not. Posted by: Andrea
Yeah - that's what I thought you were saying. There is a teleological element to this constructing of counter-narratives. It's not all about free play, because we are actually going somewhere, or trying to. Truth isn't something we know or possess, but it is something we aim at. (And if the idea of "truth" has the disadvantage of making people overly zealous, it also has the sometimes important advantage of making people zealous at all.) Posted by: bubandpie at October 30, 2007 9:47 PM
I keep thinking about this... I think my issue is with the concept of a master narrative. I mean, there's the narrative about The Good Mother, which you describe. At the same time, there's a narrative of the working mother, the one who works full time and shares the raising of her children with other people (grandparents, daycare providers, teachers etc.) That narrative is about mother as person, trying to keep a sense of herself while also caring for the family. You could argue that the 2nd is the emerging narrative, but you know, in my daily life (as opposed to in the media) it's the 2nd narrative that dominates.... I suppose it's what B&P said, that there's tension in overlapping narratives -- so that whoever fits squarely in one ideal feels 'wrong' somehow when among people striving for the other ideal. It's been really interesting to me to hear Beck's laments about all the people who come down on her for not working. And your laments about the people who come down on you for working. If there's truly a dominant narrative, then at least one of you should feel comfortable. Right? Posted by: Jennifer at October 31, 2007 11:51 AM
I think the second is definitely the emerging narrative, and you don't have to go back too far to see it: even fifty years ago there was no "working mother" narrative. Good Mothers stayed home. Period. That there is now a working mother narrative is directly due to the efforts of women who wanted to be able to inhabit that narrative, who didn't think it was better to stay at home--and that this narrative has been successful enough to impose a tyranny of its own in certain contexts doesn't, I think, change this. And I think, too, that the competition between these two narratives isn't so much about two different versions of the Good Mother, but about two different and mutually exclusive stories about being an adult woman: the Good Mother vs. the Modern Woman. That one cannot be both is definitely a problem. Posted by: Andrea
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