The value of a feeling of ease when interacting with a professional is underscored when the discussion shifts to Alexander’s diet. Ms. Williams readily admits that they do not always follow nutritional guidelines:
DOCTOR: Do you get your fruits and vegetables too?
ALEX: Yeah.
CHRISTINA (high-pitched): Ooooo. . . .
DOCTOR: I see we have a second opinion. (laughter)
ALEX (voice rising): You give me bananas and all in my lunch every day. And I had cabbage for dinner last night.
DOCTOR: Do you get at least one or two fruits, one or two vegetables every day?
ALEX: Yeah.
DOCTOR: Marginally?
CHRISTINA: Ninety-eight percent of the time he eats pretty well.
DOCTOR: OK, I can live with that.
This honesty is a form of capital because it gives the doctor accurate (rather than vague, incomplete, or incorrect) information.15 Class resources are again activated when Ms. Williams reveals that she “gave up” on a medication. The doctor pleasantly but clearly suggests that she should continue the medication longer. In steering Ms. Williams in a different direction, the doctor acknowledges her relative power by framing his answer as if he is “arguing for it,” rather than plainly directing her to execute a medically necessary action. She, in turn, accepts his explanation of the drug’s benefits and indicates a willingness to keep her son on the medication for the full recommended period.
Like his mother, Alex also engages in a pattern of conversational give and take with the doctor. And, like his mother, Alexander strives to customize his time with the doctor. When he offers his prepared-in-advance question about the bumps in his armpits, he gets the physician’s undivided attention and an implicit acknowledgment that this condition is a valid subject and worthy of consideration in the exam:
DOCTOR: Well, now the most important question. Do you have any questions you want to ask me before I do your physical?
ALEX: Um . . . only one. I’ve been getting some bumps on my arms, right around here [indicates underarm].
DOCTOR: Underneath?
ALEX: Yeah.
DOCTOR: Okay, I’ll have to take a look at those when I come in closer to do the checkup. And I’ll see what they are and what I can do. Do they hurt or itch?
ALEX: No, they’re just there.
DOCTOR: Okay, I’ll take a look at those bumps for you.
At the end of the office visit, when the doctor turns to Alex’s mother to ask, “Any questions or worries on your part?” Ms. Williams replies, “No . . . he seems to be coming along very nicely.”16 This statement succinctly captures her view of her son as a project that is progressing well. The exchange also underscores the relative equality of status between Ms. Williams and the doctor—the tone implies a conversation between peers (with the child as a legitimate participant), rather than a communication from a person in authority to persons in a subordinate position.
Throughout this office visit, Alex makes repeated use of his many language skills. And, in remembering to raise the question he prepared in advance, he gains the doctor’s full attention and focuses it on an issue of his choosing. In so doing, he successfully shifts the balance of power away from the adults and toward himself. The transition goes smoothly. Alex is used to being treated with respect. He is seen as special and as a person worthy of adult attention and interest. These are key characteristics of the strategy of concerted cultivation. Alex is not “showing off” during his checkup. He is behaving much as he does with his parents—he reasons, negotiates, and jokes with equal ease. As the next section explains, there are certain disadvantages (at least for parents) attached to teaching children how to customize a situation. Middle-class children sometimes use their skills to customize their parents’ disciplinary tactics.
DISCIPLINE THROUGH LANGUAGE
Middle-class children, we found, often use their verbal skills to argue with their parents. Rather than following parents’ directives silently, as children in the working-class and poor homes generally do, middle-class children tend to bargain, using reasoning to secure small advantages. For instance, after a baseball game, the Williams family heads directly to a school performance in which Alex has a solo part. As they travel in the car, the family discusses foods that actors are cautioned against eating before a performance. Alex agrees to wait to eat his sandwich until after the play. When his mother tells him to stop snacking on potato chips, he secures an agreement to be permitted to eat a little more:
Alex gets out a bag of potato chips. Mr. Williams says, “Bet you can’t eat just one.” Alex takes a bite of one, then begins to twist-tie the bag closed, but changes his mind and opens the bag again. He eats about five more, then comments, “You’re right. I can’t eat only one.” Ms. Williams says, “Okay, Alexander. That’s enough. Put them away.” Alex: “Just one more?” Ms. Williams: “Okay, one more.” He eats one more chip, then closes the bag.
Alex frequently attempts to systematically refute his parents when he disagrees with something they say. Sometimes, he has the last word:
Alexander commented, looking out the window at a somewhat poor city neighborhood, that it used to be safer in the old days. His mother made a joke about the dangers of dinosaurs. Alexander, annoyed, said that dinosaurs and humans didn’t live at the same time and pressed the point that it used to be safer. His mother made ambivalent sounds, and so Alex pressed the point more, insisting, “It was too safer in the old days, before they invented guns!” His mother conceded the point.
Middle-class children employ various tactics when they resist doing what their parents ask of them. Alexander’s way of complying with a request his mother makes after he has finished opening his birthday presents in front of his friends is one example:
He opens the last present. He goes across the room and stands next to his mother. His mother prompts him, “What do you say?” Alex hollers to everyone in a very loud voice, “Thank you!” A tone of alienation and boredom (as in, “My-mother-is-making-me-do-this”) is slightly detectable in his voice.
Occasionally, Alexander thwarts his parents by simply absenting himself:
His mother wraps both arms around his neck and chest and whispers in his ear, “Tell everyone thanks for coming to your birthday party.” She releases him. But even though children and parents are starting to leave, Alexander goes upstairs.
A [Black] mother whispers in her son’s ear and, with her hand physically resting on his shoulder, she steers him over to Ms. Williams. He says, looking her in the eye, in a flat but serious voice, “Thank you.” The mother, behind him, is saying, “Thank you,” too. Ms. Williams says, “Why, thank you for coming.” She says, “Let me get Alexander.” She goes into the hall and yells up the stairs in a loud voice, “ALEXANDER!” He does not arrive. She yells again, “ALEXANDER! COME SAY GOOD-BYE. PEOPLE ARE LEAVING.” Still no Alexander coming down the stairs. She yells again, “ALEXANDER!” In the meantime, two sets of parents have left.
The birthday party involved six boys (two Black, one Asian, and three white) and one girl (white) playing video games during the afternoon at an arcade, a pizza dinner, and now cake, ice cream, and presents back at the house. It has run late. Parents have been hanging around waiting for it to be over, and after the last present is opened, it is rapidly coming to a close. In ninety seconds, six of the seven children leave with their parents. Alexander remains upstairs during many of the good-byes. Even so, when his mother yells to him, she is raising her voice only so that her son can hear her, not because she is exasperated or angry. Indeed, although we observed all of the other middle-class parents yell at their children in frustration from time to time, we did not observe similar outbursts in the Williams family. Nor did we ever hear either parent threaten to hit Alex. Rather, they relied exclusively on language as their mechanism of behavioral control.