Growing Up

Growing up Without By Elizabeth Chin

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hat kind of consumer lives do poor and working class, inner city black kids have? Most readily accessible images are frighteningly negative: a whole journalistic sub-genre exists to describe car-jackings and out of control pathological consumers who kill for sneakers or jackets. Poor and minority youth are described as addicted to brands, and as having no sense of control in relation to their supposed want for status items.

These biases are an acknowledgement of the huge pressures faced by minority kids who are relentlessly courted by marketers of athletic gear in particular, but a host of other product manufacturers as well. Despite the ability of many kids to distinguish between wants and needs, the impact of such pressures cannot be discounted. On the one hand, it is important to recognize that kids are smart and self-sufficient in the face of an ever-tightening web of branding, advertising, and marketing. On the other, when the school system has installed Whittle Communications’ Channel One in its classrooms—as was the case in New Haven—when school halls are plastered with slick corporate posters touting the crunchability of Cheetos, when neighborhood billboards tout the drinkability of malt liquor and the Koolness of cigarette smoking, we know that the self-possession and sensibility of such kids is under constant assault and likely to be breached.

G e n e r o s i t y i n a Wo r l d o f N e e d

For nearly two years, I spent time conducting ethnographic fieldwork on the consumer lives of poor and working class African American children in New Haven, Connecticut. I found that, among the children from the 21 families I knew and spent time with, consumption was complex in ways unimagined by most who live outside such communities. These children demonstrated through their consumption—and their non-consumption—their deep ties to their families, their fears and anxieties about gender and race, their fantasies about romance, their desires for safety and security. While, like all children, they surely were not little angels, they were a far cry from the crazed kleptomaniacs so often depicted in popular media. Telling people outside the neighborhood about my research inevitably went like this: I’d say “I am investigating the consumer lives of poor and working class black kids.” Then I’d get a knowing look. “Oh,” would come the response. “You must have seen a lot of Air Jordans.” A whiff of disapproval. “Actually,” I would reply, “I only saw two pairs.” A disbelieving squint of the eyes. “Are you sure your sample was scientific?” 8

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As a way to learn more about how these kids might spend their money, I gave them each $20 to use as they liked, within restrictions set by parents. (Interestingly, the only things parents said their children were not allowed to buy were toy guns.) The children proved to be amazingly efficient shoppers. For example, eight children out of 23 taken on shopping trips bought shoes and had money left over. Teyvon spent his entire twenty dollars buying school supplies and an outfit for his first day in summer school. A couple of years after my study was finished, Teyvon’s mother called me up to announce that he’d spent most of his first paycheck from a summer job buying groceries for the family, cat food, and a pair of sneakers for himself. Other kids bought socks, underwear, deodorant. Of course, kids bought toys too, but the number of gifts and practical purchases was very surprising to me. Nearly half the children spent part of their money on presents—two girls bought shoes for their mothers, others bought gifts for grandmothers, aunts, cousins. In buying presents for others (usually mothers, grandmothers and aunts), or in buying things they needed, kids showed that they could contribute to the well being of their families and households. In this way, kids used buying as a way to help those upon whom they depended. They were showing that they were responsible and cared for others. This kind of behavior in households where people sometimes went hungry because there was no food or money, where kids often had to take on responsibilities not only for themselves, but for others also.

in a Land of Excess While in the U.S. many middle-class families struggle to curb their consumption, poor families must struggle to meet needs which most people take for granted: grocery shopping, paying the rent, buying adequate clothing. Davy, for instance, had never been to a Toys ‘R’ Us. Sometimes people respond to this tidbit of information with approval thinking that Davy had not been indoctrinated to the ‘too much’ syndrome. In fact, Davy had never been to Toys ‘R’ Us because he faced severe deprivation. At eleven, he was the oldest child of four. His mother was in her early twenties and was absent quite a bit. Davy often came to school too tired to stay awake. He’d been up for hours, taking care of his three young brothers and sisters, one still in diapers. When Davy went on his shopping trip, he ended up buying walkie talkies, telling me he planned to use them with his younger brother. I was struck by his choosing a toy that had to be shared to be enjoyed, and that Davy had identified his younger brother as the one with whom he was going to use the new toy.

Coping with Visions of Abundance The overabundance available in the consumer realm is not one aimed at poor, black children, and they are well aware that they are excluded from both the realities and fantasies available in the media and the malls. In New Haven’s malls and stores, kids from the Newhallville neighborhood were heavily monitored and often felt ill at ease, as if already pegged as thieves before they’d had a chance to make a purchase. In response, most of the kids became glowering, obnoxious and threatening. Even Barbie left them ill at ease. One afternoon, Asia and Natalia, 10-year-old cousins, began talking about a frazzle-haired Barbie doll left on Natalia’s front stoop: ASIA: You never see a fat Barbie. You never see a pregnant Barbie. What about those things? They should make a Barbie that can have a baby. NATALIA: Yeah … and make a fat Barbie. So when we play Barbie … You could be a fat Barbie. ASIA: OK. What I was saying that Barbie … how can I say this? They make her like a stereotype. Barbie is a stereotype. When you think of Barbie you don’t think of fat Barbie … you don’t think of pregnant Barbie. You never, ever … think of an abused Barbie. In wondering where the pregnant Barbie is, where the abused Barbie is, Natalia and Asia were also wondering where the Barbie is that represents something of the world they know and live in. Our consumer culture, the good and the bad, is not for kids like these. While we must continue to work on issues of conservation and sustainability,

we must also remember that there are those among us who do not have the luxury of struggling to keep their consumption in check. We have to be careful when judging the consumption of others; the ‘Air Jordans’ remarks are not-so-coded ways of condemning others, remarks behind which race and class discrimination lurk none too discreetly. When your most costly investment is not a diploma, a pair of braces, medical insurance, a house, or a car, but a $100 pair of sneakers, those Air Jordans are a precious thing indeed. I t ’s i m p o r t a n t t o The consumption problems of the poor are demonstrarecognize that these bly the consumption probkids are smar t and lems of the entire society as well. Today our culture self-sufficient in the seems far more comfortable turning prisons into forf a c e o f a n e v e rprofit enterprises, while failing to ensure that the poor tightening web of can consume adequate preventive health care, educabranding, adver tising tions or living spaces. The very same forces and mar keting that keep poor and minority kids in segregated neighborhoods and under-funded schools are the forces that prevent them from having access to good consumption alternatives. These children have little access to alternative visions to the lifestyles so readily available in their schools, in the media and in the neighborhood. In the struggle that we all face to create sustainability in the contemporary world, we must make sure that kids like these are not left behind. Fortunately, beginning small isn’t hard. Partnering with local schools, churches and community organizations is one place to begin. Volunteer to start an organic garden that can provide produce for school lunches, and don’t forget to recruit the neighborhood’s best gardeners. Help organize after-school programs in consumer education, or teach kids and families about the yucky delights of worm boxes and composting. Make sure local programs about conservation are being effectively presented in all areas of your community; get local businesses involved in these efforts. And be prepared: you’re likely to learn as much as you think you’re going to teach. Elizabeth Chin is associate professor of anthropology at Occidental College. Her book Purchasing Power: Black Kids and American Consumer Culture is available from University of Minnesota Press. FALL 2001

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