Photo by Inti Martínez Alemán, Flickr CC

Since the 2009 removal of left-wing president Manuel Zelaya, Honduras has seen allegations of violating human rights of journalists, LGBT individuals, and environmental activists. Those who defend their land against corporate interests are often killed; other murders go unaddressed for a lack of police investigations or judicial prosecutions. A recent article in The Progressive by sociologist Meghan Krausch documents how — in a vacuum of state protection — corporate and elite interests can prevail over ordinary Honduran plights for security and justice.

Krausch details the case of a Honduran father and his son who rallied against a logging business to protect their group’s Indigenous lands, a scenario that ended in their double-murder. The victims are not alone; a number of others have been killed in recent years while defending their community and the forest against logging industries — businesses that are funded in part by the Honduran government.

Instead of answers, community members receive little attention from the police and prosecutors for these murders. In turn, those defending their communities and forests look inwards to their own spirituality for protection.

As Krausch states, community members come together to mourn and “make a commitment to make this struggle beautiful and to reclaim happiness.”

Unfortunately, violence has become chillingly routine and this struggle in Honduras will likely remain unresolved. As one person once told Krausch, “We don’t have the chance to leave one funeral before walking into another.”

Photo by Sascha Kohlmann, Flickr CC

Headphones are not just for listening to music. They can also help avoid harassment. In a recent article in The Atlantic, sociologist Laura Loganexplains that many women leave their headphones in as a strategic move to avoid street harassment.

Logan, who studies street harassment, discusses how this use of headphones and AirPods is only one way women try to protect themselves against harassment in public spaces. Acknowledging street harassment gives the assaulter attention and power, but sometimes, when a street harasser thinks they’re being ignored or challenged, they lash out with even more derogatory comments — including racist or violent statements. Thus, for many women, it is easier to pretend that the noise in their headphones masked a street harasser’s nasty comments than it is to challenge such comments. Logan says,

“When women wear headphones, or read books, or do other things that mean they don’t have to acknowledge this is happening in some way, they’re managing that dilemma.

Women still deal with sexism and misogyny in their daily lives. Leaving headphones in is just one way women attempt to drown it out.

Photo by André Zehetbauer, Flickr CC

Last month, the International Association of Athletics Federations (IAAF) ruled against Caster Semenya, a two-time Olympic champion from South Africa who challenged rules prohibiting women with naturally high levels of testosterone from competing  The court’s ruling declares that female track athletes with naturally elevated levels of testosterone must reduce these hormones before they can participate in certain races at major competitions.

Madeleine Pape, a former Australian Olympian who has raced against Semenya and a Ph.D. candidate in sociology, told The New York Times that athletes should be allowed to compete based on their preferred gender:

I’m not saying it’s a solution, but I think it’s a start…I think it’s hard to draw a biological line around the female athlete category.”

She believes the court ruling is based primarily on

“People’s fears and misconceptions about trans women competing…I want to make sure people understand the complexities [of gender categories] and relate to these women as real people.”

While there have been broader shifts in cultural acceptance of transgender people and deconstructing gender categories, sports organizations tend to draw hard lines between men and women. According to law professor Doriane Lambelet Coleman:

“The gender studies folks have spent the last 20 years deconstructing sex and all of a sudden they’re facing an institution with an entirely opposite story…We have to ask, ‘Is respecting gender identity more important or is seeing female bodies on the podium more important?’”

Photo of a romantic couple's backs as they sit on a bench. One has a hand in the other's hair.
Photo by Jeffrey, Flickr CC

Do younger generations cheat on their spouses more than older generations? According to an article in The Atlantic, it’s too early to tell.

Sociologist Wendy Manning explains there is no evidence that young adults are more likely to be faithful than young adults in the past. While a recent analysis of the General Social Survey (GSS) suggests that people age 18 to 55 may be less likely to have extramarital affairs than those older than 55, Manning argues this simply reflects that people over 55 have been married longer and thus have had more opportunities to cheat.

A broader look at marriage trends shows that the divorce rate has decreased significantly and marriage has become more selective in recent decades among more educated persons, according to sociologist Andrew Cherlin. Manning notes that that millennials may be purposely setting themselves up for more stable marriages than their parents:

“The specter of divorce looms large. And it seems like it’s a big reason why a lot of young adults want to live with someone first. They want to divorce-proof their marriage.”

While younger generations may be more selective about the marriages they do enter, we won’t know if they stay faithful for many years.

Photo by verkeorg, Flickr CC

As the weather heats up and the school year draws to a close, many parents ponder the best ways to keep their kids occupied during the summer months, given their own resources and obligations. Electronic devices are always a popular option, but how much screen time to permit young children can be a tough decision to make, and one that parents themselves are often judged for.

To help parents devise a plan for their kids’ devices, a team of international experts shared their latest recommendations in a recent World Health Organization press release regarding children’s sedentary behavior, physical activity, and sleep. The report concluded that for preschool-aged children, sedentary screen time should be limited to an hour, and the less the better. They also recommended that kids be physically active for at least three hours a day; more is preferable. This implies that parents should replace children’s reduced screen time with time spent actively engaging in physical activity and interactive play so as to further motor skills and cognitive development.

Indiana University sociologist Jessica Calarco points out in The Atlantic, however, that such guidelines make a number of assumptions that may not be true for all families:

“If parents are letting their kids watch TV, or keeping them cooped up inside, or keeping them strapped in a car seat for an hour or more, it’s not because they think it’s good for their kids. Parents make those decisions because they don’t have any other choice. Or, at least, because the alternatives require more money or more space or more energy or more patience than those parents have on any given day.”

Some parents may have access to paid childcare, extracurriculars, safe outdoor spaces, or libraries with high-quality children’s programming, but these constructive alternatives are out-of-reach for many families. In fact, less-privileged parents often turn to screen time because it’s a safer or more educational choice than other options. On Twitter, Calarco concludes that strict screen-time guidelines are problematic because they treat screen time as a choice, rather than a necessity. This framing, in turn, heightens the already intense scrutiny faced by disadvantaged parents.

Photo of a black woman holding a black child on her shoulders.
Photo from Max Pixel CC

Black women have faced decades of public scrutiny for their mothering practices. From their reproductive health decisions to their selection of romantic partnerships, Black women are often deemed responsible for disrupting the traditional (patriarchal) Black family. In a recent essay in The Nation, writer Dani McClain argues that these cultural wars against Black mothers have led to the politicization of Black motherhood, where Black mothers socialize their Black children to resist tropes around Black criminality, laziness, and undeservingness. In fact, according to research cited in the article,

“out of 17,000 families with kindergartners, parents of color are about three times more likely to discuss race than their white counterparts. Seventy-five percent of the white parents in the study never or almost never talked about race.”

McClain further draws from Black feminist sociologist Patricia Hill Collins to illustrate how Black mothering resists white expectations of the traditional middle class nuclear family. For example, politicians and policymakers alike have used higher rates of non-marital births in Black communities to suggest the real social problem is Black women’s lack of marital commitment to Black men. Yet, Collins argues that Black mothers instead rely on “other-mothering” as a form of social support. “Other-mothering” involves “a system of care through which black mothers are accountable to and work on behalf of all black children in a particular community.”

The intergenerational message among Black women, then, is one of patriarchal rejection, where social welfare policies such as improved work conditions and quality healthcare (rather than heterosexual marriage) become the strategies to counter the effects of poverty. On this point, Collins writes,

“Since Black mothers have a distinctive relationship to white patriarchy, they may be less likely to socialize their daughters into their proscribed roles as subordinates.”

Photo of a building with a sign that says, "Ajax Bail Bonds, Open 24/7"
Photo by Jeffrey Beall, Flickr CC

This Mother’s Day the #FreeBlackMamas campaign will bail out Black mothers and caregivers from jails and detention centers in many local communities. The campaign, which is organized by the National Bail Out collective, has bailed out over 300 Black women since it first started three years ago. In a recent article for The Appeal, Josh Page — a sociologist who worked as a bail bond agent for a year and a half — describes how the private bail industry excessively profits from low-income women and women of color because they are often the ones responsible for bailing out husbands, boyfriends, fathers, and sons.

Poor men of color make up the majority of the jail population and many do not have adequate resources to post bail, so this responsibility falls to defendants’ female family members and romantic partners. To post bail, these women first must pay a bond premium and also co-sign on the bond. Co-signing not only results in financial hardship but places many women under similar forms of surveillance as the defendants they co-sign for. This process can also exacerbate strain in their personal relationships, including with defendants. Page describes the experience of one of the women in his study named Angie,

“…many co-signers may feel they have no choice, even when they personally suffer from a defendant’s alleged criminal behavior. For example, I worked with a Native woman named Angie whose partner, Johnny, had cheated on her with a minor. Angie was furious and hurt, but felt she had to bail out Johnny “for the kids.” Giving up $750 and signing the bail contract, Angie anxiously took responsibility for Johnny making his court dates. If he didn’t, she would face additional costs.”

In addition to deepening existing inequalities by extracting wealth from already struggling communities of color, bail companies and insurance corporations (who partner with bail companies as sureties) reap huge profits. Page expands further on just how profitable this industry is,  

“There are about 35 major industry players; with their backing, bail companies can write bonds far above their cash on hand. In exchange, the insurance corporations typically take 10 percent of each bond premium. In 2012, sureties secured more than $13.5 billion in bonds. These corporations risk little: In auto and property cases, insurance companies typically pay out 40 to 60 percent of their revenue in annual losses. Bail underwriters, records suggest, pay less than 1 percent in losses.”

In the many jurisdictions where bail reform is under consideration Page urges policymakers and the broader public to remember “…the extreme costs of care that the bail industry and criminal legal system impose on already disadvantaged women.”

Photo by kurrija, Flickr CC

We’ve all seen cats and celebrities become images that represent cultural moments in spreadable and shareable ways — also known as a “meme.” Memes often represent jokes and light-hearted cultural moments, but they have also become an outlet for activist movements and political expression. VICE news recently featured a new type of meme circulating worldwide: “activist memes.” Previous generations wrote songs and created art to protest policies and create movements, but VICE notes that 21st century memes can go viral in seconds.

James M. Jasper, a sociology professor, argues that protest movements often involve emotional elements. To this end, Jasper argues that the subjects of activist memes are often villains:

“They’re an important step in arousing the anger or fear that can mobilize people…the media [of protest art] have changed somewhat, but the purposes are similar: the blaming of villains, the identification of victims, as well as outrage at the villains and compassion for those victims.”

Political figures like President Trump are a major target for activist memes and protest art in both liberal and conservative camps, especially for those who disagree with major players’ policies. According to VICE author Sage Lazzaro:

“creating or consuming political memes that align with one’s point of view can be therapeutic. They reflect what’s happening in society, and help justify feelings of rage and fear while helping us feel less alone.”

Photo of a mother sitting on the floor holding an infant.
Photo by Jessica Pankratz, Flickr CC

Working moms need more than just flowers and spa days this Mother’s Day. They need policy changes and other support in order to manage their stressful daily lives. As highlighted in a CNBC article, sociologist Caitlyn Collins’ new book Making Motherhood Work demonstrates that Germany and Sweden can serve as useful models for how to support mothers in the United States.

Collins points out that many American mothers juggle primary caregiver roles and demanding work schedules. She interviewed 135 middle-class working mothers in some of the most wealthy nations in the world — the United States, Sweden, Italy, and Germany — and she found that the United States is an outlier in its lack of societal support for working mothers.

Policies alone cannot solve all of American moms’ woes, but Collins argues that Germany and other countries can serve as useful models. For example, a policy in Berlin allows mothers to take an entire year of parental leave and either work part-time or telecommute after that. Collins states that if similar policies are set in place to support working mothers in the United States, a weight would be lifted off their shoulders.

Collins’ research highlights how American society needs a deeper appreciation in supporting mothers in their daily lives and work. However, it still doesn’t hurt to get mom a little something extra this year!

A Rwandan woman and man sit on a bench outside of Ntarama and wait for gacaca court to begin.
Outside Ntarama, people wait for the gacaca court to begin. Photo by Robin Kirk, Flickr CC

Genocide often involves the restructuring of military organizations to target of civilians based on their identity. But in Rwanda, the army and militias of the genocidal regime killed alongside those who had not previously been part of the military. Farmers, doctors, and religious leaders responded to calls to participate in the violence, carrying out the genocide within their own communities. This April marks the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Rwandan genocide, and communities continue to grapple with the effects of this violence.

One of these is the return of those convicted of genocidal crimes from prison or communal work camps. In recent years, many of these individuals have returned home to the communities where they committed violence. Hollie Nyseth Brehm and Laura C. Frizzell recently wrote an op ed in the New York Times about their research on this reentry process. Brehm and Frizzell work with 200 Rwandans who were incarcerated for crimes of genocide, following their journey from the end of their incarceration through their return home. In this op-ed, the researchers include a number of anecdotes from Rwandans who were surprised to be met with a warm welcome upon their return:

Straton served almost 21 years in prison for murdering three people. When he was released, he could barely recognize his surroundings because of Rwanda’s vast economic growth. Dirt roads had been paved and new buildings were everywhere, meaning he ultimately had to ask strangers how to find his house. There, he found his wife and children, and after a joyous reunion, the next few days were full of pleasant surprises. “There are people that I never expected to help or to greet me, and they did it … Neighbors would come with Fanta. Some friends would come and give me small amounts of money.”

In post-genocide Rwanda, the history of Belgian colonialism and the institutions created out of this history take much of the blame for the 1994 genocide. This means individuals do not face all the blame — instead, their behavior is part of a broader social context, which helps to facilitate reconciliation:

What could explain such an unlikely, friendly welcome? Much of the answer lies in where many Rwandans place blame for the genocide. Sources like public school curriculums and government-run memorials paint a complex picture of the violence as rooted in Belgian colonial rule that exacerbated divisions between Hutu and Tutsi. These sources also highlight the “bad governments” that discriminated against Tutsi and encouraged violence during the genocide. By placing blame on historical colonialism and governments, this dominant narrative removes some of the responsibility from the individuals who perpetrated the violence on the ground — especially the uneducated farmers who claim they were acting out of fear or were following orders.

Brehm and Frizzell stress that this focus on the systemic causes of the 1994 genocide does not absolve genocidaires of responsibility for their actions, nor does reconciliation mean that survivors don’t still carry the pain of the past. Instead, these small steps in community rebuilding have key symbolic significance. As Brehm and Frizzell observe,

“Healing from such unimaginable trauma will always be a work in progress, but it is happening.”