Even alternative media reporting on the housing crisis are using mainstream ways of talking about the problem. While you’d expect publications like BE, The Root, and Colorlines to be more radical (alternatives to, say, Forbes), instead they stick with “neoliberal” and “postracial” themes. That is, these publications believe housing problems are individual problems and have little to do with race, even when banks have admitted in court that race was part of their mortgage decision process. In Catherine Squires’ new study on the disproportionate impact of the subprime mortgage crisis on African Americans, she shows how mainstream rhetoric is rearticulated by even alternative media.

In her content analysis, Squires reveals that both BE and The Root presented stories in which responsibility for the mortgage crisis was shifted from the banks and lenders to the individual borrower. Colorlines was the only publication to address the unequal access of whites and people of color to the American Dream and home ownership, demonstrating greater resistance to the specious appeal of neoliberal rhetoric by placing greater onus on the government and the beneficiaries of its bailout (that is, the banks).

The expectation instilled in alternative media to present a different perspective endures. However, when even the stories they publish look like recycled versions of the mainstream, readers’ trust is sure to wane.

From the proposal to the honeymoon, American weddings have remained relatively unchanged for the better part of the last century. Even unconventional brides and grooms tend to follow a traditional script in planning their weddings; this is especially observable in the ubiquitous white dress/black suit combo. Recently, this gendered pattern has been complicated by the legalization of same-sex marriage in several states. Without the obligatory gender scripts, which traditions will gay men and lesbian women follow and which will they break?

In a recently published article, Katrina Kimport (Gender & Society, August 2012) takes a close look at the marital attire chosen by gay and lesbian couples by studying photographs of same-sex weddings in San Francisco in 2004. She finds that among the formally-dressed male couples, all of them conformed to gender norms–they were all dressed in suits or tuxes–while none conformed to the wedding norm of one bride and one groom. In other words, no men were dressed as brides. On the other hand, among the female couples, seven out of ten conformed to the wedding norm of one bride (in a wedding dress or other feminine wedding attire) and one groom (wearing some type of suit or tuxedo). Of the remaining female couples, half followed gender norms (two brides) and half did not (two grooms).

What might these trends mean for the future of wedding traditions? Might gay and lesbian marriages radically alter traditional heterosexual wedding norms? Or might some of their wedding day choices work to reinforce the gendered tradition of one bride and one groom? Such questions are not easily answered, but one thing is clear: same-sex marriage sweeps both gender norms and wedding norms off their feet.

For those who don’t enjoy dramatic irony, too many books and movies provoke that frustrated question: “Why didn’t they just talk to each other?” Entire plot lines that hinge on only a few words of missed dialogue have been the backbone of classic comedies and dramas for centuries, but now modern technology may be making this literary device just too… unbelievable.

Wellman and Rainie, writing in the first issue of the new journal Mobile Media & Communication, illustrate this shift with a creative new twist on an old classic. What if Romeo and Juliet, those unfortunate teens who just missed each other in the end, had cell phones? Instead of talking through their feuding families, they could have just texted, maybe avoiding (spoiler alert!) the whole suicide mess.

Using research from their book Networked: The New Social Operating System, the authors argue that mobile phones and other portable communication devices have ushered in an era of “networked individualism.” We connect as individuals and share everything, down to our geographical location. The star-crossed lovers couldn’t even dream of satellite technology, but they were still pioneering individual networking by meeting alone, in secret, instead of involving their families to court each other formally. Even a decade ago, you’d have to call your paramour’s “home phone,” and maybe even talk to their parents.

Today a quick text makes individual socializing that much easier and more efficient, but it may also radically shift communication through our closest social groups. In our social lives and our dramatic writing, how much longer will we be able to believe people just didn’t get the message?

Some call it “tough love,” others claim they’re just “keepin’ it real.” Either way, by preparing their children to face racism, parents hope their kids will be able to handle such realities in non-violent ways.

In their attempt to understand the impact of interpersonal racial discrimination on criminal offending, Callie Burt, Ronald Simmons, and Frederick Gibbons offer new insights into how African American parents prepare their children for experiences with racial bias in order to foster a sense of resilience.  Based on panel data from several hundred male African American youth from the Family and Community Health Study, their findings show that higher instances of racial discrimination increase the likelihood of crime. But they also find that families use what they call “ethnic-racial socialization” (ERS) as a means of reducing this effect. According to the authors, ERS is “a class of adaptive and protective practices utilized by racial/ethnic minority families to promote functioning in a society stratified by race and ethnicity.” ERS is not necessarily a strategic effort, but an adaptive means of coping with racial inequality. In addition to reducing the impact of racial discrimination among the sample of black youth, ERS also weakened the effects of emotional distress, hostile views, and disengagement from norms on increased offending. Further, teaching kids about racism may prevent them from getting tangled up in criminal responses, but it’s also clear evidence that our society hasn’t transcended race or racism.

In an era of concerted cultivation and enlightened parenting, the need to steer children away from crime by revealing harsh inequalities at a young age seems futile. Ethnic-racial socialization strategies are not compatible with most middle-class cultural scripts. However, the irony in all of this is that most privileged parents are keeping it just as “real” as low-income parents of color. It is the stark contrast in how these parents practice concerted cultivation—whether in teaching piano scales or teaching kids to expect a racist world—that catches our attention.

Uptalk—a rise in intonation at the end of a statement—is most commonly associated with “Valley Girls”, but is actually fairly common in all American speech. And, as Thomas Linneman argues (Gender & Society February 2013), it may also be a key way that gender is both learned and communicated in our interactions.

Analyzing the speech patterns of 300 “Jeopardy!” contestants, Linneman finds that uptalk is used in the delivery of a full third of all responses. While women use uptalk more often, men also answer with a questioning tone, and are more likely to do so when engaging with a woman contestant. By definition, uptalk occurs during statements, not questions. Although “Jeopardy!” contestants must phrase their answer as a question, Linneman argues that responses are “questions” in name only—they’re treated as statements on the show.

Uptalk is most common with incorrect answers, lending support to the idea that it is a sign of uncertainty. But even accounting for accuracy, gender differences remain. For example, as women’s success on the show increases, so too does their use of uptalk—perhaps, Linneman argues, to account for this “breach” in gender performance. On the other hand, men decrease their use of uptalk when they’re doing well, unless they are correcting a female contestant. Men seem to realize that their gender expectations demand competitiveness and certainty.

Interested readers should also check out a guest post on this research on the TSP Community Page Sociological Images.

Lauren A. Rivera conducted interviews about the hiring process at elite professional firms and finds that hiring is about more than matching professional skills and qualifications. Rather, whether the candidate is a “cultural match” isn’t just an anecdotal idea—it truly matters. Similar hobbies and interests may really be the tipping point for hiring committee decisions.

In the era of a voluntary U.S. military, the Armed Forces offer educational and tuition benefits as incentives to recruit young people. The military, then, is often seen as an indirect bridge to higher education, especially for those who are disadvantaged in some way.

Lin Wang and his colleagues (Social Forces, December 2012) investigate the military and educational trajectories of young men with “inconsistencies” in their social status–that is, there’s not a match between their socioeconomic resources, cognitive ability, and academic performance. Using nationally representative longitudinal data, they find that these young men are more likely to enlist in the military. For example, those with high cognitive ability but poor performance in high school may enlist in search of opportunities to fulfill their potential, or those who perform well in school but are from low socioeconomic backgrounds may enlist for needed tuition benefits.

Status inconsistent people may have aspirations in line with their highest status, but their ability to attain their goals is often constrained by their lowest status. For these folks, the military may seem to be a viable strategy to pry open the doors of the ivory tower.

In reality, the data show that those who take the military route are actually less likely to obtain a bachelor’s degree, though they are more likely to complete a two-year degree or attend some college. As the military promises “all you can be,” this study suggests the road, for most, leads to an associate’s degree.

It’s been hard to ignore various responses to growing economic inequality. Tea Partiers, Occupiers, and politicians have concentrated our attention on wealth, corporate greed, and governmental spending. Yet, a compilation of polls examined by Greg Shaw and Laura Gaffey (Public Opinion Quarterly) shows that these movements haven’t done much to sway public opinion. Assembling polls on inequality, taxes, and mobility from 1990 to 2011, the authors reveal that American public opinion has remained fairly stable on these issues. For instance, in 1990, 28% of those polled believed that the distribution of wealth in the U.S. is “fair.” In 2011, 26% said the same.

Dozens of similar poll results lend support to the argument that, while street protests may have impacted national conversation on inequality, Americans have not dramatically shifted their views. The authors describe the public striking an “awkward but lasting balance” between endorsing a belief in equal opportunity and acknowledging very unequal outcomes. This stable trend reflects American reluctance to embrace redistribution, even in light of heated criticism of income inequality. Fundamentally, these polls also reflect a difficult-to-dislodge cultural view that a tougher work ethic will lead to greater individual American wealth—that is, work hard, and the rewards will come.

Skateboarding has long been the hobby/sport of choice for disillusioned urban and suburban youth—spawning a fast-paced and thrill-seeking subculture that has become nearly universally loathed by parents. But it now appears that much of the ire that skateboarding and skateboarders have received over the years may be unwarranted. As Gregory J. Snyder (Ethnography, August 2012) writes, skateboarding’s growing prominence has aided in the creation of countless career paths, both direct (as boarders) and indirect (as photographers, artists, publicists, managers, etc.). Given the context in which these economic opportunities have arisen, Snyder calls them “subculture careers”—unique positions largely owed to skateboarding’s status as a subculture, not viable careers in spite of it.  While the subculture undoubtedly revolves around the skills and creativity of its most gifted boarders, these other positions are integral to the widespread dissemination of the craft.

Snyder also goes on to credit much of skateboarding’s remarkable expansion, from its origins as a niche hobby to its position as a global industry, to its communities’ close ties with and novel uses of urban spaces. Not only are skateboarders frequently depicted performing gravity-defying tricks over urban obstacles, much of the skateboarding industry is situated in major American cities (in the case of this article, Los Angeles). Snyder argues that this connection to large urban environments helps draw in talented boarders and artists from throughout the world. In turn, this cosmopolitan group helps continually diversify and develop skateboarding from within.

Color-coded awareness ribbons abound these days. Even NFL football players wear pink gear during October to support breast cancer awareness. But, as Rachel Kahn Best reveals in the American Sociological Review (October 2012), this awareness has accomplished far more than selling ribbons and staging fundraising walks—it’s transformed how government funding for disease research is distributed in the United States.

Using data on federal medical research funding for 53 diseases between 1989 and 2007, Best shows that advocates for single diseases not only secured increased funding for their causes, but also changed how decisions are made to fund medical research. Because these efforts redefined the beneficiaries of medical research funding as patients rather than researchers, policymakers needed new metrics to make funding decisions.  A focus on “dollars per death” and “big killers” emerged, making mortality a primary measure for distributing research funding among diseases. This has provided a seemingly rational, fair, statistically-based—and appealing—way to make funding choices.

But the shift toward thinking of patients as the beneficiaries of medical research funding has also brought stigma and the relative “deservingness” of patients front and center. Some diseases, like muscular dystrophy, appear to have “innocent” victims, ill through no fault of their own. But because those with lung or liver cancer may suffer after making arguably poor choices, such as smoking or drinking, they (and their diseases) are seen as less deserving of research funds. Best’s analyses demonstrate that, indeed, such stigmatized diseases have generally received less research money in recent years.