race

Race and racial identity shape the ways people treat us, and people generally classify one another’s race quickly. This becomes more complex, however, for those who don’t fit neatly into a specific racial category. Research by Casey Stockstill shows that social perceptions about people who are multiracial can be shaped by factors such as skin color, as well as the racial identity that a multiracial person expresses.

Stockstill conducted two experiments with business students at the University of Wisconsin, Madison. In the first, participants evaluated an applicant for a peer-counselor position at the school; the application came with a picture of the applicant, a light-skinned male. Stockstill presented four different versions of the applications, changing whether the applicant identified as “black,” “multiracial,” “biracial,” or “white” on their application. Then, in a second experiment, Stockstill did the same thing, but included a picture of a dark-skinned applicant instead. Stockstill asked participants to identify the applicant’s race and determine whether the applicant would be good for the job.

Regardless of skin color or asserted racial identity, participants’ evaluations of the applicants’ qualities and ability to handle the job were relatively similar. Stockstill did, however, find differences in the impacts of skin color and racial self-identity on how participants perceived the applicant’s race. For the most part, participants agreed with both the light-skinned and dark-skinned applicant’s self-presentation as black, biracial, or multiracial. On the other hand, participants were more likely to agree with the light-skinned applicant’s self-presentation as white than they were for the dark-skinned applicant. In other words, skin color was a greater predictor of how participants interpreted the race of multiracial applicants who asserted a white identity. Skin-color was a greater predictor of how participants interpreted the race of multiracial applicants who asserted a white identity.

The racial identity of the participant also mattered. White participants were more likely to state that the applicant was non-white, particularly for the dark-skinned applicant. These findings — highlighting the conflict between skin color and self-asserted racial identification for how people perceive one another’s race — show us the persistence of racial boundaries even in a society that is more racially tolerant than the past. Since this is especially true for multiracial individuals who identify as white, it is clear that the category white has decidedly fewer shades of gray. 

Ethnic and racial differences sometimes serve as sources of exclusion. However, recent research by Ervin B Kosta suggests that sharing similar racial and ethnic backgrounds — even when they are not exactly the same — can also facilitate social inclusion. Their research demonstrates how Albanian immigrants were able to incorporate themselves into Italian businesses and neighborhoods in 1960s New York City because of shared culture, history, and racial backgrounds.   

From 2006 to 2010 Kosta interviewed Italian and Albanian store owners in the Bronx’s Little Italy. Both groups share common historical experiences, contact in Europe, geographic proximity, similar racial backgrounds, language, and food. These similarities served as reference points for conversations between the two groups, and Albanians emphasized these similarities to maintain their ethnic identity and avoid assimilation, but at the same time they did not challenge the Italian hierarchy in the neighborhood.  Albanians were also able to leverage these shared narratives to identify as racially White in a time when Italian business owners and community leaders felt threatened by non-White groups’ increased presence in the region. 

Albanians were also able to leverage these shared narratives to identify as racially White in a time when Italian business owners and community leaders felt threatened by non-White groups’ increased presence in the region. Kosta’s work suggests that race, and specifically White racial identity may be important for contemporary immigrant groups — allowing some immigrants the privileges that come with being White and leaving others out.

Losing a family member can be hard emotionally and physically. Previous research demonstrates that grief and bereavement negatively impact socioeconomic status and a variety of health outcomes, but research has not considered the effect of multiple experiences of loss or potential racial disparities on who is more likely to lose family members. Recently, Debra Umberson and her colleagues tackled whether Black Americans experience more and earlier family deaths than White Americans. Their striking findings illustrate that Black Americans are more likely than White Americans to experience the deaths of mothers, fathers, siblings, spouses, and children. In addition, Black Americans are more likely to experience the death of multiple family members and to experience loss at an earlier age.

The researchers used two nationally-representative datasets to look at the experiences of two different cohorts of Americans. One dataset included 7,617 individuals born 1980-1984 and the other dataset included 34,757 individuals born 1900-1965. Researchers calculated how likely an individual was to experience a death of a family member, as well as differences in age when individuals experienced specific deaths.

Black Americans are more likely to experience the death of multiple family members and to experience the death of a family member at an earlier age than White Americans. Blacks in the older sample were about 90 percent more likely than Whites to have experienced four or more deaths by age 60. And Whites were 30 percent more likely than Blacks to have never experienced a family loss by the same age, even when researchers controlled for several social factors. For those born 1980-1984, Blacks were three times more likely to experience the death of two or more family members by the age of 30. For those born 1980-1984, Black Americans were three times more likely than White Americans to experience the death of two or more family members by the age of 30.

Disparities begin young and continue throughout much of the life course. In the younger sample, Blacks were three times more likely than Whites to lose a mother, more than twice as likely to lose a father, and 20 percent more likely to lose a sibling by age 10. All disparities level off at later ages, except the likelihood of losing a child, which continues to increase for Blacks after age 50. This earlier and more frequent exposure to death is a “distinctive stressor” that almost certainly drives cumulative disadvantage by increasing stress and harming social ties.  

While the federal effort to block funding to sanctuary cities is slowing down, states like Tennessee are developing their own bills to mandate local cooperation with federal immigration officers. There is contention over exactly what a sanctuary city is, and the guidelines for sanctuary look very different from place to place. The reason behind the initial push to defund sanctuary cities was concerns that surges of undocumented immigration lead to more crime, despite consistent research findings that immigration actually decreases crime. A recent study by Ricardo D. Martínez-Schuldt and Daniel E. Martínez explores relationships among sanctuary cities, immigration, and violent crime rates.

Martínez-Schuldt and Martínez examine the impacts of sanctuary city policies on two types of crime: homicide and robbery. There are no official sources of sanctuary cities in the United States so the authors had to get creative, gathering lists from the National Immigration Law Center and other sources to determine which cities adopted sanctuary policies from 1990 to 2010. The authors include measures of both unauthorized Mexican immigrants and total immigrant population of cities to directly test the effects of immigration on violent crime.

In contrast to the common political rhetoric, increases in unauthorized Mexican immigrants were related to decreases in homicide, but only in sanctuary cities. The authors suggest sanctuary policies may lead to more social integration and feelings of safety for immigrant communities, which could both reduce criminal activity and increase police cooperation in these neighborhoods. These results remain the same even when accounting for a variety of other city characteristics that may influence crime, such as residential mobility and social disadvantage.Sanctuary policies may lead to more social integration and feelings of safety for immigrant communities, which could both reduce criminal activity and increase police cooperation in these neighborhoods.

Martínez-Schuldt and Martínez’s study demonstrates that much of the political valence around sanctuary cities and crime is unfounded. However, this political rhetoric around “crimmigration” mirrors the beliefs of many Americans. A 2017 Gallup poll found that 45 percent of respondents erroneously indicated that immigrants make crime worse. As this study shows, the link between immigration and crime is not true, and sanctuary policies may help to reduce violence in the cities that adopt them. In short, sanctuary cities may be safer than we think.

Whether we wear stilettos or flats, jeans or dress clothes, our clothing can allow or deny us access to certain social spaces, like a nightclub. Yet, institutional dress codes that dictate who can and cannot wear certain items of clothing target some marginalized communities more than others. For example, recent reports of bouncers denying Blacks from nightclubs prompted Reuben A Buford May and Pat Rubio Goldsmith to test whether urban nightclubs in Texas deny entrance for Black and Latino men through discriminatory dress code policies.

The authors recruited six men between the ages of 21 and 23. They selected three pairs of men by race — White, Black, and Latino — to attend 53 urban nightclubs in Dallas, Houston, and Austin. Each pair shared similar racial, socioeconomic, and physical characteristics. One individual from each pair dressed as a “conformist,” wearing Ralph Lauren polos, casual shoes, and nice jeans that adhered to the club’s dress code. The other individual dressed in stereotypically urban dress, wearing “sneakers, blue jean pants, colored T-shirt, hoodie, and a long necklace with a medallion.” The authors categorized an interaction as discrimination if a bouncer denied a patron entrance based on his dress or if the bouncer enforced particular dress code rules, such as telling a patron to tuck in their necklace. Each pair attended the same nightclub at peak hours three to ten minutes apart. The researchers exchanged text messages with each pair to document any denials or accommodations.Overall, Black men encountered more discriminatory experiences from nightclub bouncers, highlighting how institutions continue to police Black bodies through seemingly race-neutral rules and regulations.

Black men were denied entrance into nightclubs 11.3 percent of the time (six times), while White and Latino men were both denied entry 5.7 percent of the time (three times). Bouncers claimed the Black patrons were denied entry because of their clothing, despite allowing similarly dressed White and Latino men to enter. Even when bouncers did not deny entrance, they demanded that patrons tuck in their necklaces to accommodate nightclub policy. This occurred two times for Black men, three times for Latino men, and one time for White men. Overall, Black men encountered more discriminatory experiences from nightclub bouncers, highlighting how institutions continue to police Black bodies through seemingly race-neutral rules and regulations.

Sexism is not simply about individual bias or action. In fact, the structure of organizations can facilitate sexism so that discriminatory practices occur even when individuals do not express sexist attitudes. In new research, Stephanie Bonnes demonstrates how bureaucracies and male-dominated hierarchies within the U.S. military facilitate discriminatory behavior towards women, like sexual harassment or abuse. 

Bonnes conducted in-depth interviews with 33 U.S. service women, including 21 on active duty. More than a third of her interviewees experienced what Bonnes calls, “bureaucratic harassment,” where powerful individuals manipulate administrative policies and procedures to undermine their colleagues’ professional careers. For example, superior officers delayed women’s promotions, threatened to withhold benefits or cancel holiday leave if they reported sexual harassment and abuse. One commander even failed a service woman on an exam when she would not comply with his wishes to take a desk job, and prohibited her from retaking the test.

Black and Latina service women reported that superiors cited their “attitudes” in performance reviews or infraction reports, reflecting racism as well as sexism. For instance, a White male officer reprimanded Joanna — a Latina officer — for disrespecting a superior officer, even though he was the same rank as her. In blaming Black and Latina women for their “attitudes,” these men rely on stereotypes about women of color, specifically that they are easily angered and thus unprofessional.Service women’s treatment is not simply the result of explicitly sexist commanders. The military’s policies, procedures, and its hierarchical structure promote discrimination against service women.

Bonnes argues that service women’s treatment is not simply the result of explicitly sexist commanders. Rather, the military’s policies, procedures, and its hierarchical structure — imbued with some level of discretion for those in power — promote discrimination against service women. And when commanders use their discretion to give infractions or poor performance reviews, service women face serious consequences, including ineligibility for opportunities like pay raises because of holding lower ranks, and time and energy spent responding to infractions and abuse instead of devoting that energy to other important aspects of their lives. In short, Bonnes’ research allows us to understand how institutional structures — rather than simply sexist individuals — can reproduce gender inequality if left unchecked.  

Talking about racism and race relations is often difficult, especially between a parent and child. Parents of color often feel the need to talk about these subjects to protect their children from violence and prepare them for racism in the world. But recent research by Megan Underhill suggests that White parents more often remain silent on these matters, ignoring the reality of race relations in the United States and allowing for the continuance of White privilege and dominance.  

Through interviews with 40 White, middle-class parents in Cincinnati, Ohio from 2014–2015, Underhill questioned parents about their communications with their children regarding racial protests and violence — in Cincinnati in 2001 and Ferguson in 2014. Originally Underhill focused on the shooting and protests in Cincinnati, a city that is essentially half White and half Black. Then, a month into the interviews, violence in Ferguson occurred, so Underhill started asking parents about both cities (though not all parents originally interviewed were questioned on these latter events).

Twenty-eight parents did not talk to their children at all about racial tensions or protests in either city. When asked why, half stated that their children “never asked” and the rest stated that their children were too young to discuss such topics. Though most parents in the study reported speaking to their children about race beforehand, they often used rhetoric that superficially addressed diversity — “we’re all the same but different” — thus avoiding uncomfortable racial talk. Twelve parents spoke to their children about racial tension and the Ferguson protests, though most did not talk to their children about the underlying structures that support racial inequality in the United States. In all, only two parents in the study initiated conversations with their children about racial inequality and White privilege. White families — in contrast to families of color — lack either the willingness or the ability to talk about race, even in the face of current events 

Part of the reason seems to be that parents themselves had little knowledge of U.S. race relations and therefore felt like they could not have meaningful conversations about race with their children. In sum, this research demonstrates that White families — in contrast to families of color — lack either the willingness or the ability to talk about race, even in the face of current events. And this practice will surely only support the status quo. 

Social media serves as a space where users can react to events (like the Parkland school shooting) in real time. While these conversations can be constructive, social media can also be a haven for anger and discrimination. In a recent study, René Flores examined what drives online bigotry, specifically in response to new laws. Flores focuses on Arizona’s SB 1070 law, which allowed authorities to demand immigration papers from individuals they thought may be undocumented. While a strong anti-immigrant response to the law on Twitter may seem to demonstrate a shift in attitudes toward immigrants, Flores argues that changes in behavior — in this case, an increase in posting and a change in the content of posts — may be to blame. 

Flores analyzed over 250,000 tweets posted between three months before and three months after the passage of SB 1070. Rather than sorting the tweets as positive or negative, Flores created a metric to rate the strength of sentiment in the tweets. He compared Arizona tweets to those in Nevada to measure changes specifically related to SB 1070, rather than other national or regional dynamics. After SB 1070, not only were there more anti-immigrant tweets in Arizona, but the tweets themselves were more negative. And further, Twitter users also directed negative sentiments toward non-immigrant Latinos, showing that the effect of SB 1070 was not limited to those targeted by the law.

 Beyond capturing the overall trends, Flores analyzed the motivation behind the tweets. Flores did not find evidence that neutral or pro-immigrant users changed their attitudes. Instead, users who already expressed anti-immigrant or anti-Latino biases drove the uptick in negativity. In other words, users who previously held an anti-immigrant stance posted tweets with greater negative content more frequently, at least in the immediate aftermath of the bill’s passing. This finding questions the possibility for laws to change attitudes in the short term, but demonstrates that laws can mobilize groups who already believe in the law’s sentiments. Users who previously held an anti-immigrant stance posted tweets with greater negative content more frequently, immediately after the bill’s passing.

Teachers face difficult decisions in their classrooms, navigating both practical and more complex aspects of their profession. Racial segregation and discrimination are some of these more complex issues. In her recent study, Jessica S. Cobb investigated how teachers understand existing racial inequalities in their schools and beyond. She found that the local context of schools significantly shaped teacher perceptions of inequality.

Cobb interviewed 60 public school teachers from three different California high schools. Two schools, with the pseudonyms “Bunker High” and “Solidarity High,” served predominantly low-income Latinx and Black students. The third school, “Heritage High,” served a mainly affluent, and majority White and Asian student population. Each school’s demographics, resources, and professional development characteristics helped to create a local culture that shaped how teachers thought about educational inequality.

In a context of abundance and independent professionalism, Heritage High teachers attributed their privileged students’ success to their parents’ personal and financial investments. They perceived student differences to be the result of economic, rather than racial inequality.  On the other hand, many Bunker High students lived in precarious food and housing situations, and the school itself lacked resources for teachers. These school characteristics, in combination with constant in-fighting among the school board and other administrators, meant teachers at Bunker High understood inequality as the result of this dysfunction. They said that dysfunction among adults, including school teachers, administrators, and parents, reduced student chances of success, and teachers often discussed this dysfunction along racial lines. While Bunker High and Solidarity High served similar student populations, Solidarity High had many resources and boasted a collaborative culture among teachers. Because of this local context, teachers at Solidarity High attributed inequality directly to racism.  Understandings of race and racial inequality are more than just individual dispositions. They are shaped by the social context of day-to-day life.

Understandings of race and racial inequality are more than just individual dispositions. They are shaped by the social context of day-to-day life. Cobb’s study suggests that when schools like Solidarity High receive more resources and foster a collaborative teacher culture, there are both material and immaterial benefits. In other words, school structures provide an important context for teacher’s perceptions of how inequality operates in their own schools and elsewhere.

Education matters for quality of later life and so parents are highly invested in where their children attend school. Traditionally, choosing a good school meant choosing a good neighborhood — public schools serve everyone in the surrounding community and are funded primarily through property taxes. But increases in “school choice” policies, designed to improve schools by allowing parents more control over what school their children attend and increasing competition, weaken the link between schools and neighborhoods. In a recent study, Francis Pearman II and Walker Swain consider how school choice policies affect the housing decisions of educated, White families and in turn contribute to gentrification. 

Pearman and Swain tracked whether school choice (through charter schools, magnet schools, vouchers, or open enrollment) in certain neighborhoods increased between 2000 and 2012. Then, they identified if those neighborhoods had gentrified during the same time period. The authors tested each neighborhood’s probability of gentrification regardless of school choice, and then determined if adding school choice policies changed that probability. They found that Whites were less likely to move into a neighborhood that was primarily non-White when the area had traditional neighborhood schools. However, Whites were equally likely to move into a neighborhood — regardless of racial composition — if school choice policies were present. In fact, with school choice, the likelihood of gentrification in the most racially-isolated neighborhoods increased from 18 percent to 40 percent.

These results suggest that White parents are less likely to move to a neighborhood if their children will attend majority non-White schools. On the flip side, they are more willing to move into racially-isolated, disinvested areas if they are able to select more desirable schools for their children. Clearly, education and housing policies can’t be understood in isolation, as both affect displacement, segregation, and community integration. School choice policies may accelerate gentrification processes that push out communities of color, while decreasing the odds that residents will invest in their neighborhood schools.