Thinking Sociologically & Intersectionality:
Sociological Meanderings Towards Collective Well-Being
What is sociology? The study of society. But, what exactly is society? To get right down to it, sociology studies the way that people are organized, and how that organization changes across time and space. What do we mean when we say “organized”? Well, that will take all 16-weeks to explore, but it includes the sociological ideas of culture and structure. Until we get deeper into those concepts, we can settle on the reality that there are rules, laws, norms, and institutions that govern our relationships to each other.
Sometimes this is informal: we shake hands when we meet someone new. Sometimes this changes: in other cultures, it is a bow, not a handshake, or there are rules around the gender binary, handshakes, and hugs. “Men” are more likely to shake hands or shoulder tap with a back slap, while “women” are more likely to fully embrace. Sometimes this changes because of a pandemic: now we might question hugs and handshaking and choose fist or elbow bumps instead. Or, emojis.
Other times its formal: there are laws that govern when and how you can (or can’t) turn when you encounter a red light, for example. Or, whether you must wear a face mask at the doctor’s office (yes) or while at the grocery store (not anymore, though some of us still do).
The point is, society is large and complex, and our relationships to each other are ever present and always organized. We are in relationships with our loved ones, obviously. But we are also in relationships with the UPS driver (even if we do not know her name or where she lives) who delivers our packages. And, as I post this, I am in relationship with the people who make Blackboard possible, and my internet connection possible, and my electricity possible, because without these things (Blackboard, the internet, electricity), I couldn’t post this for you. And, without students, I could not be a teacher. So, to study our relationships goes beyond intimacy, and extends into the depths of the strangers who make our lives what they are. We are always in relationship, and there is always something governing the dynamics of our relationships.
As we have these conversations about society, using the “sociological imagination” (Mills 1959), we will be relying on sociological evidence. What does this mean? Well, simply, sociological evidence is the outcome of the research of sociologists. So, if a chemist does a study on sugar, and they produced their data in a chemistry journal, that would be evidence, but it would not be sociological evidence. Why? Because the chemist would study the molecular dynamics of sugar, for example, and that would not be quite pertinent to the sociologist. But a sociologist would explore how sugar is a part of how our society is organized. Michael Pollan used the “sociological imagination” in his book, In Defense of Food, which explores the way that sugar is organized by society and how it impacts our health care system (public issues) and our personal health (personal trouble). And he uses evidence, not opinion, to shape the conclusions that he comes to (though he does, also, have opinions about the evidence!).
Now, let us put this through the lens of something current, contentious, and relevant: the Supreme Court’s decision in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, which overturned the constitutional right to an abortion. The evidence that emerges from economists — 154 of whom signed on to an amicus brief to the court in support of abortion rights on economic grounds — is that reproductive rights protects the economic interests of people who can/might get pregnant, as thus, the economy. Let us explore a few sources:
According to Sheelah Kolhatkar at The New Yorker,
According to Alison Durkee at Forbes,
Those effects are felt at the broader societal level: Abortion restrictions cost state economies an estimated $105 billion per year and getting rid of all state-level restrictions would increase the national GDP by nearly 0.5%, the IWPR study found based on data from 2020, when there were fewer restrictions in place than now.
According to Brieanna Nicker at The Brookings Institute,
Economists provide clear evidence that overturning Roe would prevent large numbers of women experiencing unintended pregnancies — many of whom are low-income and financially vulnerable mothers — from obtaining desired abortions. Restricting, or outright eliminating, that access by overturning Roe v. Wade would diminish women’s personal and economic lives, as well as the lives of their families.
Are you curious about the economic impact of reproductive rights? Do some critical thinking! Be skeptical and explore the issue for yourself. Do some inquiring into these authors and these sources. Explore what others have to say, explore the patterns that emerge, and come to your own conclusions. And a brief note about opinions. Opinions are not bad, and they are impossible to get rid of. We all have them, and they shape how we act — how we love, how we vote, what we wear when we go to the grocery store, etc…. The point in the context of this class, however, is that the sociological evidence may or may not jive with your opinions, and yet, you must learn the sociological perspective to do well in this course. So I stress: you might not LIKE the sociological evidence, but that does not make it untrue; that does not make it “bad” evidence. The evidence stays the same no matter how you feel about it. The goal of critical thinking is to be able to move beyond the realm of opinion, to not be stuck in our opinions, and instead, to open ourselves up to new possibilities.
For example, during the height of the pandemic, I did not always enjoy working from home, and I missed being able to regularly see my friends and family. I really did not love the fact that my partner was temporarily unemployed, nor that I experienced a non-Covid health crisis, going to doctors’ appointments alone, and not having my family by my side when recovering from surgery. My opinion — my feelings about all this — is that the shelter-in-place experience, the social distancing and limited outside gatherings was difficult, both psychologically and economically. I also have an opinion that is shaped by gratitude: I had (have) a house, a partner, and a job that kept me/us afloat. But, as a critical thinker who explored the evidence that emerged from the scientific community (mostly epidemiological evidence, but also some sociological), I learned to accept the situation and understand that none of it was about what was best for me, but rather what was best for everyone as a collective; for public health.
I also know that what I do has an impact far beyond my ability to see that impact (and vice versa); that my singular actions (like volunteering for local justice organizations or continuing to wear a mask in public spaces) can impact people in other houses, other states, and other countries, and thus, I am contributing to something larger than my own personal experience. History!
And this is what Mills, and especially Collins, is asking us to do: to shift beyond binary thinking and into the realm of the complex and contradictory; to be able to hold multiple truths simultaneously. Such as: we are all privileged and oppressed and most often both at the same time. And at the same time, we should try to shy away from trying to determine who “has it worst.” Systemically, women of color experience racial oppression alongside sexism (and this varies across different racial designations), and white women experience racial privilege alongside sexism. But how do you compare the white woman who was sexually assaulted with the Latina woman who was not called for a job because of her name (I am sure many of you are familiar with the research that highlights that white sounding names on resumes are more likely to get called in for interviews)? And men are also denied their humanity, even as they are deeply and powerfully rewarded for doing so. So, what is the point? We are all harmed by these systems. All of us, in varying and nuanced ways. And thus, we would all be healed by social change, by justice, by equity.
Further, as Collins illuminates, my biography is shaped by history, and that history is always interconnected with structures of race, class and gender. Thus, my ability to shelter-in-place even as an essential worker, or my ability to utilize my own private transportation and health insurance to ensure my access to reproductive health care, is an example of how my class privilege shapes my biography. And, as I stated in the lecture, my class privilege is shaped by historical structures of racism: my white ancestors were able to purchase homes, and produce intergenerational wealth, which is a possibility because of the institutional racism embedded in governmental housing policy in the United States. Thus, my sociological imagination, informed by both Mills and Collins, allows me to explore how race, class, and gender (as history) impact my experiences (my biography).
And, importantly, my “sociological imagination” allows me to build empathy for those whose experiences diverge from mine. As Collins wrote: “If you care about me, you should want to know not only the details of my personal biography but a sense of how race, class and gender as categories of analysis created the institutional and symbolic backdrop for my personal biography” (653). I do care about you, and because I do, and because I have developed a “sociological imagination,” I can see that there’s more going on than what I can see from the bubble of my “personal troubles.” If I step outside of myself I can come to realize that the social world is more complex than I originally thought; that what is happening to me is not the only thing that is happening. That there is this whole realm of “public issues” to explore!
Please take care of yourselves and each other.
Happy learning,
Dr. Monica
