Hello everyone! We are taking a break from our regular Roundup this week, but we do have a few things to share with you, including some nerdy social science jokes and cute animal pictures (you’re welcome). We’ll be back with a full report next Friday, but do stop by the site if you are in need of some reading and/or listening material over the weekend.
For many of us, this weekend will be full of conversations with friends and family we don’t see often. Given the heightened tensions surrounding the U.S. presidential election, there are a few posts around TSP this week that offer suggestions for constructively engaging with friends and family who have different political views. Below are some highlights —
“Research shows that family dinner does not actually increase well-being in and of itself – it only works if the meal-time discussion is used to actually engage with those at the table and learn about their day-to-day lives. In other words, ‘polite’ conversation may not be the best way to bring everyone together.”
“There’s a lot of power in being in relationship with others. Taking off our ‘expert’ academic hats, getting outside of our intellectual and likeminded echo chambers, and really listening and sharing with people we love who have divergent viewpoints can be illuminating.”
Hello and happy Friday all. Like many of you and others, we are continuing to grapple with the U.S. election, and a number of pieces around the site this week are reflections on what got us here and projections about what it might mean for social policy, social justice, and social science.
“The 2016 Election and the Vocation of Social Science,” by TSP co-editor Chris Uggen. Chris anticipates some of the obstacles that social science research will face in the near future, and urges social scientists to work with, not against, one another to overcome them.
“Sociologist-on-sociologist violence will get us nowhere … The Society Pages believes that sociology needs a ‘big tent’ to prosper – one embracing both our pure science wing and our social activist wing. Because we don’t have a lot of weight to throw around, we’d likely be further diminished if we ‘cleave it in twain.’ So I’m going to continue to love all y’all – even when y’all disagree.”
“The Whitelash Against Diversity,” by Jennifer Lee. In this timely special feature, Lee highlights research that helps explain the significant “whitelash” among white Americans that resulted in a Trump presidency.
“The Meaning of Menstruation,” by Allison Nobles. Recent innovations in birth control are being used as a way to improve the quality of life for those of us who get periods, but these medical developments affect the social meaning of menstruation.
Our readers and our writers (as well as our friends and partners) have been asking what the election of Donald Trump and Republican legislative majorities might mean for social science and social scientists. The sky is (probably) not falling and new opportunities will (almost surely) arise, but there are some significant challenges ahead for many of us who think of ourselves as social researchers – regardless of our own party affiliation. I am thinking here about the institutions that affect our research, teaching, and learning, rather than our individual or collective views or concerns as citizens or political actors. Most pointedly, the new regime has signaled that they will offer less material and symbolic support for sociology, for science, for criticism, and for higher education. Nobody can predict what will happen at this point and it may be too early, dumb, or offensive to raise practical professional questions from a position of unusual privilege, but I will follow Doug Hartmann in offering some personal reflections and semi-educated guesses based on the recent past.
Your work. There is no sugarcoating it: the conditions of work for most social scientists are unlikely to get any easier in the next few years. But our field has proven remarkably resilient. How many scholars believe their research, teaching, outreach, and engagement work suddenly became less important with this November’s election? Like obstetricians or immigration lawyers, our life’s work may simultaneously become more challenging and more meaningful in coming years. Consider the topics listed atop our main page at TSP: gender, race, inequality, crime, culture, health, and politics. Ya think the election won’t bring new urgency to work in any of these areas, or new research questions to investigate? To paraphrase Etta James, the blues is our business and business is good. That said, federal research funding streams may slow to a trickle. I anticipate a pivot toward foundations, community partners, and universities that are already stretched thin. I spoke with a foundation representative today who seemed keenly aware of this potential vacuum — and sincerely interested in learning where their investments might do the most good. Of course, most social scientists will continue to do good work without major grants or fellowships and there will likely be new grant solicitations in narrowly-defined target areas. But at this point I would rather scale back my projects (and those of my students) than delay them in anticipation of a large infusion of federal social science research dollars.
Your institution. I know it isn’t the first issue on your mind, but life could also get more complicated for the people who sign your paychecks. Boo freaking hoo, right? Well, imagine being a public university president in a state transitioning from an education-friendly governor (and/or legislature) to a new regime less committed to higher education (or, perhaps, one that is explicitly anti-intellectual). Top administrators and their staff in government relations must now reframe their appeals – simply to hold onto the 20 percent (or whatever – your mileage may vary) they (we) currently receive. If experience is any guide, they will offer both a vigorous defense of liberal arts education and renewed claims about “ROI” (return on investment) and your university’s role in workforce development. Such talk strains relations with faculty and students but does not (necessarily) mean that your leaders have sold out or turned their back on “core mission.” It may be one among many strategies to bring the resources needed to sustain that mission. Yes, they can and must “fight the good fight” and they might be better served leading a march on the state capitol, but their messaging, their invitation lists, and even their hires will respond in some way to the new power dynamics. Hold your leaders and institutions accountable, but remember that they are probably not your principal enemy and do what you can to help them advocate for the social sciences.
Your peers. Though our positions and power vary greatly, many of us share at least a loosely-connected professional identity. This election has been especially divisive within sociology, pitting sister against sister in heated debates, whether over Bernie versus Hillary or the best path forward under Trump. But sociologist-on-sociologist violence will get us nowhere. As one election post-mortem noted, it simply isn’t tactical for groups to insist on moral purity or 100 percent consensus. And our professional life already exaggerates differences imperceptible to civilians, whether we’re arguing the nuances of Foucauldian theory or the relative merits of Poisson vs. negative binomial regression. The Society Pages believes that sociology needs a “big tent” to prosper – one embracing both our pure science wing and our social activist wing. Because we don’t have a lot of weight to throw around, we’d likely be further diminished if we “cleave it in twain.” So I’m going to continue to love all y’all – even when y’all disagree. Of course, smart people of good will disagree on what to do next. Some advocate resistance, protests, and letter-writing campaigns. Others “stay in their lanes,” only taking policy positions when they have direct and empirically verifiable expert knowledge on a subject. And, yes, others will work directly with the new regime – often on the same sorts of policy questions they are pursuing with the current regime. I was more frequently summoned to Washington under the Obama and Clinton administrations than during the Bush administration(s), but the latter also took up issues that mattered to me (such as prisoner reentry). I saw how social scientists can make a tangible difference under blue, red, and purplish regimes. Maybe this time it’s different and more nefarious, but on balance I would almost always prefer to have good social scientists in the room when decisions affecting society are made.
Yourself. Social scientists extrapolate. That’s what we do. And when we lack good information, we tend to extrapolate based on worst-case scenarios. So, many of us will end 2016 with great apprehension not just about 2017 but about the longer-term trajectories of our careers, our students’ careers, and our disciplines. That said, even the most pessimistic observer should recognize that the social sciences are too strong to ignore and too tough to die. Put differently, it is a good time for many of us to reflect on our privilege and to direct our efforts toward aiding people and groups who are far more vulnerable or marginalized. And if you’d like to support the social sciences in ways that go beyond your own research and teaching, commit yourself to deploying your expertise in ways that directly confront the howling fantods you might be feeling. For me, that means doing all I can to protect the integrity and transparency of basic social indicators and U.S. government statistics – and to redouble our efforts at The Society Pages to bring social science research to broader visibility and influence.
Hey everyone. Most of us are still reeling from the election results, so we are introducing our Roundup this week with a few lines from co-editor Doug Hartmann’s reflection the morning after —
“It is important not to try to grapple with this individually and on our own but to do so openly and collectively and even across the usual political lines if possible. This is about taking care of each other and ourselves. It is about healing and reflection. It is about moving forward and preparing for next steps.”
“Mornings After in America.” Doug’s reflection on the U.S. presidential election results reminds us, and himself, that we have been through this before and that social change is a long and hard process.
“Criminal Justice Reform Limited to Nonviolent Offenses,” by Caity Curry. New research in The ANNALS of the American Academy of Political and Social Science finds that policy and discourse surrounding criminal justice reform is limited to nonviolent offenders and economic benefits rather than the broader human costs of incarceration.
I was in the 8th grade, in 1980, when Ronald Reagan got elected. As much as my white, southern Missouri friends idolized him, I was terrified. For reasons I only vaguely perceived at the time, I thought he was going to plunge us into war, into a global nuclear holocaust. I felt like he was mean to those who were already marginalized and downtrodden (not words I actually would have used then). His upbeat, moralistic new “morning in America” schtick rubbed me the wrong way. Also Reagan just didn’t seem smart enough to warrant such a post. Believing that a president was supposed to be the best and brightest among us, I preferred the cerebral, deeply spiritual, cautious-to-a-fault incumbent, Jimmy Carter.
Carter wasn’t popular in my class, in my family, in my town, or my state. I was only one of two kids in my class who supported Carter in our little, pre-election caucus—the other was an awkward, unpopular kid who had just recently moved to our town and school. I wasn’t entirely surprised. I went to a Missouri Synod Lutheran grade school, my friends (outside of sports) were exclusively white, and my hometown (Cape Girardeau) also happens to be the place that produced Rush Limbaugh. If anything, I may have been most surprised with myself for breaking with all of the folks I knew so well and thought I had so much in common with.
The depth of the divide I encountered also surprised me. I remember how my classmates—my friends, again, kids who I had grown up with and I thought were just like me—mocked and ridiculed Carter, the Sunday School teacher and military man, even as they celebrated Reagan who had come to fame as a Hollywood actor. How did that work? I’m not just talking about the silly mustaches and devil horns they drew on the Carter campaign literature my sorry ally and I passed around the room. They were deeply scornful of Carter, convinced that he was bringing ruin upon our country. They thought I was crazy for supporting him, and used strange lines I’d later realize came out of familiar anti-communist lingo to say so. They were as serious about this as I was about my own private fears. They really seemed to think Carter was somehow evil and anti-American. It was so puzzling to me. Looking back, I realize it wasn’t just Reagan that I found so upsetting but the cultural chasm that I was beginning to see. I mean, my friends were terrified about political and social and economic things as well, but their fears were almost diametrically opposed to mine. In fact, you could probably say that my whole career has been predicated on trying to understand such differences and divisions, especially on the racial front.
I didn’t share any of this with anyone really back in 1980. In fact, I don’t remember doing any other politicking for Carter after the debacle of the class caucus. Politics, in my family at least, was better left to others, almost embarrassing to acknowledge openly. Politics, in other words, was personal–but strictly personal, completely private. But I remember feeling scared, perplexed, demoralized. Even sick, physically sick.
Of course today what I’m thinking most about is that I encountered a lot of those same, familiar feelings and fears last night and waking up again this morning. I should be careful here. Trump is no Reagan. His rhetoric has been far more extreme, and as my friend and colleague Chris Uggen says, he’s “unmoored” personally and politically in ways that make this even more anomic and we really have no idea what he will actually do. All of this just adds to the anxiety. And it is not just me. That’s probably my first thought and most important point. Many of my closest friends and family in Minnesota and around the country are experiencing such thoughts and fears, many even more deeply and profoundly than I.
I think it is important to share that with each other today, to not try to grapple with this individually and on our own but to do so openly and collectively and even across the usual political lines if possible. This is about taking care of each other and ourselves. It is about healing and reflection. It is about moving forward and preparing for next steps. And while things today may still be too raw for real, thoughtful processing and planning, that is also what we probably need to at least prepare ourselves to do.
So here’s what I’m trying to remember today, in light of the past, and will try to build upon in the coming weeks and months.
–I’m trying to remember that we’ve been through this—at least a version of this—before.
–I’m trying to remember that the world didn’t end in my childhood, that social change is hard, and that political processes play out over decades and generations.
–I’m trying to remember that America has been a very divided, polarized society for a long time, and all recent elections have been very close.
–I’m trying also to remember that good things sometimes come out of bad ones. As my colleague Michael Goldman observed, “some of the most progressive changes we see today came from collective action once Reagan…was elected.”
–I’m trying to remember that part of my job is to go back and read and think and try to understand what has happened, why it is happening, and how we might respond.
–And I’m also remembering that my attempt to understand both my own feelings and reactions from the 1980s as well as those of folks all around me at the time (perhaps especially those of folks around me) helped propel me to study and think and engage the way I did in high school, to choose the college I went to, and to enter into the field and career I have spent my entire life working in. Sociology is a noble calling, and we need it now more than ever.
–I’m trying to remember that the nation is vast, containing multitudes.
–I’m trying to remember that as dejected and demoralized and downright despondent as I and some of my closest family and friends may be, I’ve got other friends and lots of family who felt that way when things turned out differently in other election cycles.
–I’m trying to remember those Americans most likely to be most hurt by the politics of 2016 (and that it is probably not my closest family and friends nor me or any of my colleagues).
–I’m trying to remember that it’s not just feelings, politics, and rhetoric we need to attention to, it is social conditions and actual programs and policies.
–I’m trying to remember not only that have we been through this before, but that our institutions have proved strong and resilient.
–I’m trying to remember that this nation can be good.
And, for what it is worth, I also know that the sun did come up today, even if it was accompanied by the first hard frost of the season here in the Twin Cities.
Okay, so I’m short on time and more than a little bit intimidated by Beyonce and all her brilliance. But I grew up listening to country music, have long loved the Dixie Chicks, and I’ve been thinking so much lately about trying to cultivate cross-racial understanding and interactions in our culture that it seems like I need to say something about the remarkable rendition of “Daddy’s Girl” that was part of the CMA country music awards the other night. Fortunately, this new piece on the Atlantic entitled “What Beyonce’s ‘Daddy’s Lessons’ Has to Teach” says many of the things I’ve been thinking about. From the intriguing lack of media buildup, to Beyonce’s blending of feminism, religiosity, and guns, to the racial dynamics of the performers and some of the predictable (and easily repudiated) social media backlash, this piece has it all–and this isn’t even to mention the amazing musicality and rip-roaring entertainment value. Fortunately, there is a link to the performance embedded in the post. And in case you haven’t heard of any of this, here’s the lyrics to wet your appetite.
Came into this world
Daddy’s little girl
And daddy made a soldier out of me
(Oh, oh, oh)
Daddy made me dance
And daddy held my hand
(Oh, oh, oh)
And daddy liked his whisky with his tea
And we rode motorcycles
Blackjack, classic vinyl
Tough girl is what I had to be
He said take care of your mother
Watch out for your sister
Oh, and that’s when he gave to me…
With his gun, with his head held high
He told me not to cry
Oh, my daddy said shoot
Oh, my daddy said shoot
With his right hand on his rifle
He swore it on the bible
My daddy said shoot
Oh, my daddy said shoot
He held me in his arms
And he taught me to be strong
He told me when he’s gone
Here’s what you do
When trouble comes to town
And men like me come around
Oh, my daddy said shoot
Oh, my daddy said shoot
Oh, oh, oh…
Daddy made me fight
It wasn’t always right
(But he said girl it’s your second amendment, oh, oh, oh)
He always played it cool
But daddy was no fool
And right before he died he said remember…
He said take care of your mother
Watch out for your sister
And that’s when daddy looked at me…
With his gun, with his head held high
He told me not to cry
Oh, my daddy said shoot
Oh, my daddy said shoot
With his right hand on his rifle
He swore it on the bible
My daddy said shoot
Oh, my daddy said shoot
‘Cause he held me in his arms
And he taught me to be strong
And he told me when he’s gone
Here’s what you do
When trouble comes to town
And men like me come around
Oh, my daddy said shoot
Oh, my daddy said shoot
Oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh
My daddy warned me about men like you
He said baby girl he’s playing you
He’s playing you
My daddy warned me about men like you
He said baby girl he’s playing you
He’s playing you
Cause when trouble comes in town
And men like me come around
Oh, my daddy said shoot
Oh, my daddy said shoot
Cause when trouble comes to town
And men like me come around
Oh, my daddy said shoot!
Oh, my daddy said shoot!
Well, we’ve got four days until the U.S. presidential election, and most of us are a mixture of nervous, excited, and exhausted. In preparation, see below for sociological takes on the candidates’ treatments of climate change, immigration, and “nasty women,” and follow us on social media to stay up to date throughout the week.
“Climate Change and the 2016 U.S. Presidential Election,” with Erik Kojola. Climate change has not been a major topic of the 2016 presidential debates, but the outcome of this election will have a major impact on climate change policies. We talk to J. Timmons Roberts, Riley Dunlap, and Eric Bonds about the political and social dynamics of climate change and what to expect from the presidential candidates in the coming months.
“Joel Best on the Creepy Clown Craze,” with Ryan Larson. What’s up with all the creepy clowns lately? Tune in to our new episode of Office Hours to find out how the recent “clown uprising” connects to our popular mythologies.
“Same-gender Sex Outside of the University,” by Allison Nobles. “Although women in less privileged positions may have fewer choices in how they identify, they likely face less pressure to match their identities with their behavior.”
Getting sociological research into public circulation is an ongoing challenge, especially when we are talking about sociologists writing in their own voice about their own original research. Obviously, we here at TSP see that as one of our primary missions, as does our fabulous partner, ASA’s Contexts magazine. But our resources and media penetration are extremely limited. Over the past few weeks, in fact, I’ve had several conversations with colleagues and students about how few venues exist wherein sociologists can reach a public audience in their own, original voice. Even our colleagues that contribute regularly to national media outlets are often explicitly and unceremoniously instructed not to write about their own research and findings.
Against this backdrop, it seemed almost magical when Elijah Anderson’s piece analyzing Donald Trump’s rhetoric about African Americans and inner-city neighborhoods popped into my feed a week or two back. The piece appeared on Vox under the title “The Sociological Theory that Explains Trump’s Assumption that All Black Citizens Live in the ‘Inner City’.” It is, of course, Anderson’s theories that we are talking about — or, rather, that he himself is sharing with a larger public audience.
Anderson’s jumping off point is the exchange that took place during the second presidential debate when Donald Trump responded to a question from a well-dressed African American man by launching into a riff on how terrible inner-cities are, assuming and implying that this man had come from a St. Louis ghetto. Essentially Anderson analyzes that moment as a way to explain how and why African Americans are so often profiled by other Americans and he does so through a larger discussion of his own theories and research on white spaces, black spaces, and the cosmopolitan canopy.
If you already know Anderson’s work, this will be a bit of a refresher course. If you don’t, it will be a nice introduction and primer to his ideas, which have been fairly widely discussed within the field (especially the notion of the cosmopolitan canopy). And either way, I think it is a rare and important treat to see a leading sociologist writing in their own voice and showing how their research and theories can be used for a broad, mainstream public audience.
Kudos to Professor Anderson, and kudos to Vox for providing such a format and opportunity.
Happy Friday! Whether you’re gearing up for the election, Halloween, or just a nice weekend where a little extra candy intake is likely to go unnoticed, we have some sociology on that. See below for our latest content and stop by for more!
“The Benefits of Reverse Outlines,” by Jack Delehanty. In the second installment of our Teaching Writing series, Jack offers some suggestions for integrating writing instruction with course content by using reverse outlines.
“Women in Law Enforcement,” by Amber Joy Powell. Research on female police officers suggests that they are less likely to use force, but are often expected to do more “emotional labor” than male officers.
Saturday Night Live has been having great fun with the presidential campaigns and debates all fall, with Alec Baldwin and Kate McKinnon headlining in the roles of Trump and Clinton. These skits have been entertaining to be sure, but they haven’t–at least in my opinion–plumbed the depths of social significance in the way that great, memorable, and truly meaningful comedy often achieves. Perhaps it is the source material. In any case, there was a bit this past week that I believe did achieve something quite powerful and sociologically insightful, even while being outrageously hilarious. I’m talking about the Black Jeopardy skit.
“Black Jeopardy” has been something of a recurring bit on the show. The concept is a play off of the quiz show that Alex Trebec has made famous where contestants must provide the questions that go along with various facts about culture, history, and science. In the SNL version of the game, the categories and questions are all based upon knowledge and information associated with black culture and/or unique in African American communities, and typically one of the three contestants–usually someone who is white–has little or no knowledge of any of this. The running gag is how obvious the answers and questions are for black contestants as opposed to the fish-out-of-water, racial other. What is both funny and revealing, then, are both the unique characteristics and distinctive knowledge of black culture and community (even the categories are often pretty funny but only if you have some knowledge of the culture) as well as what it is like to be a complete outsider. In short, Black Jeopardy is an almost straight-up inversion (and take down) of white culture and privilege.
In this week’s installment, the SNL crew inserted Tom Hanks into the mix. He plays an earnest if uncomfortable white, working-class contestant. The results were not only laugh-out-loud hilarious, but also revealed points of agreement–ranging from distrust of the government and anyone in power, to taking pride in thriftiness to a dislike of thin women–between members of the black community and erstwhile white Trump supporters. The unexpected points of agreement were the key to both the humor and the sociological insight. Such points of commonality are almost never realized or appreciated in our currently polarized, black versus white racial-political climate. The skit not only brought them to the fore, they made them funny.
You probably need to watch it for yourself to fully appreciate my point, and if you haven’t yet seen it, here’s a link.
But just to help underscore the brilliance of the concept and execution (and with a little help from my research assistant and TSP board member, Sarah Catherine Billups), here’s a condensed narrative of some of the best moments in the skit.
The Skit: Black Jeopardy with a Trump Player
“Whaddup, whaddup, whaddup! Welcome to Black Jeopardy—the only TV game show where the audience is in church clothes,” host Darnell Hayes (cast member Kenan Thompson) booms before introducing the contestants: Keely (Sasheer Zamata), Shanice (Leslie Jones), and Doug, a white guy sporting a “Make American Great Again” cap. One of these things is not like the other. Doug, played by guest host Tom Hanks, looks clearly out of place with his red cap, American flag and eagle t-shit under his blue denim work shirt and white goatee. All he’s missing is a shotgun and a Budweiser.
“Doug? Are you sure you’re ready to play Black Jeopardy?” Darnel asks with worry pushing his eyebrows to the ceiling.
“They told me a fella could win some money so let’s win me some money, GIT ‘R DONE,” Doug/Hanks explains kind of quietly.
The audience roars with laughter at this fish-out-of-water-fella as Darnell shrugs and then goes on to introduce the categories “Big Girls,” “You Better,” “Mm I don’t know,” “I’m Gonna Pray on This,” “They Out Here Saying,” and “White People.”
Keely and Shanice hit their buzzers with lightning speed to correctly answer the first few questions–which, as is the usual bit for this skit, plays off of the knowledge and experiences that are supposedly unique to the black community. When Doug nods his head in agreement to an answer and shares that he plays Monopoly Millionaires Club every week too, Darnell brushes him off.
Much to everyone’s surprise, however, Doug buzzes to the answer to the prompt: “They out here saying: the new iPhone wants your thumbprint ‘for your protection.’” He responds, a bit hesitantly, “No no, I don’t think so. That’s how they get’cha.”
“YES!…YES! That’s it!” Darnell points to him in shock. Did this white guy really just answer correctly?
Keely purses her lips, thinking for a second before nodding in agreement, “Yep. I don’t trust that.”
“Me either,” Shanice joins in. Both black women turn and look at Doug, fascinated but still a little cautious. “I read that goes straight to the government,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, not bad dog. The, the board is yours,” Darnell announces, his eyes still wide with newfound curiosity about this white guy in a bright red Trump hat.
Keely chooses the category “They Out Here Sayin” for $800: “They out here sayin’ that every vote counts.” This time, Doug buzzes in a bit more quickly. “What is ‘oh come on, they already decided that weeks ago–who’s gonna win even before it happens.”
“YES! YES! YES! YES!” Darnell shouts in excitement,” elaborating further himself, “The Illuminati figured that out months ago! That’s another one for Doug!” Is this really happening? Is Doug actually getting answers correct? The audience laughs as Doug says with new confidence, “Okay, we’re doin’ it.”
Next question: “The mechanic says you owe $250 for new brake lines.”
Doug rings in again! “What is ‘you better go to the dude in my neighborhood who’ll fix anything for $40.’”
“Oh, you know Cecil?!” Darnell asks as if Doug is a long lost cousin.
“Yeah, yeah. My Cecil’s name is Jim and he fixed my refrigerator, my air conditioner, and my cat,” Doug replies with pride.
“Yeah, everybody’s got a guy,” replies Darnell. “Wooo, you all right, Doug.” The audience applauds almost politely, with genuine appreciation.
Next, Doug selects the category “Big Girls” for $200. “Skinny girls can do this for you.”
“Doug?”
“What is ‘not a damn thing.”
This time the audience erupts in wild hoots and hollers as Darnell exclaims, “You damn right!”
“Yes! Yes!” Keely and Shanice agree. Shanice even gives him a high five. Both the women are smiling and nodding vigorously at this point, no longer looking at Doug like he’s a two-headed giraffe in the zoo.
“My wife—she’s a sturdy girl,” Doug explains.
“That is my MAN right there!” Shanice approves.
“Go Doug, Go Doug, Go Doug!” The host and the other contestants sing and dance to cheer for this white man getting the right answer, again!
As the fictional contest draws to a close, Darnell crosses his hand over his heart and says, “Doug. I got to say, it’s been a pleasure,”
“Well, right back at ya my buh-rau-thuh,” Doug replies in a somewhat uncomfortable attempt to return the complement and stay on common ground.
Now it’s time for the Final Jeopardy. What else does Doug know? Can he really win this thing? Is it possible that his knowledge and understanding is really on par with that of the black audience, host, and contestants? The audience is ready to find out, and waits for the final category to be revealed.
“Lives that Matter.”
“Oooooh” the audience grimaces and hesitates as Keely’s and Shanice’s eyes shoot daggers in Doug’s direction. Darnell smiles biting his lower lip, shrugs his shoulders, and shakes his head, “Well, it was good while it lasted, Doug.”
“Hey, I got lots to say about this—,“ Doug insists.
“I’m sure you do!” Darnell says. “When we come back, we gonna play the National Anthem just to see what the hell happens. We’ll be right back!”
As the screen fades out, we see Doug talking and gesturing wildly with his hands as Shanice watches, perplexed and Keely slowly wags her finger.
Final Analysis: There are other great moments in the skit of both unexpected commonality and obvious, if amusing, cross-racial tension that we’ve glossed over here. But the insights about race relations and American culture that I see so brilliantly, entertainingly represented and revealed in SNL’s Black Jeopardy can be easily summarized: the initial skepticism and distrust that defines so many inter-racial interactions in our culture; the points of common understanding about culture and society that may actually exist under the surface for some of us; and yet, ultimately, the existence of issues where there is almost certainly going to be a huge disconnect and major disagreements. Great concept. Brilliant execution. SNL and comedy at its sociological best.
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