The Dark Side of Categorization (Part 1)

Picture originally found on www.createourworld.net

I always joke that as a Social Psychologist, my job is finding out what is wrong with people.

Take categorization, for example.

As humans, we need to notice patterns and categories to make sense of the world. Being able to categorize the things we encounter is crucial to survival. This could be something as simple as categorizing red as a different color from green while encountering a traffic light, or distinguishing between foods that are poisonous to eat and foods that are safe to eat.

Not only do we categorize objects, but we also categorize people. As infants, we demonstrate the ability to distinguish between people of different races by responding more to those of the same race as our primary caretaker. We categorize people as tall or short, female or male, happy or sad, old or young. More importantly, we categorize people as "similar to me" and "not similar to me" or to put it more simply "us" verses "them."

Categorizing people is not necessarily a bad thing. For one, categorizing people can facilitate social interactions. It gives us shortcuts to know how to properly engage with others. We interact with countless others during our lifetime. Because it is impossible to "learn" a different social script each time we encounter someone new, we rely on categories as default for a starting point in how to interact with a new acquaintance. For example, let's say I meet a woman named Sally for the first time. I have never interacted with Sally before, but I do know that she is a nun. I rely on my knowledge of the category "nun" and assume that Sally is religious, conservative, and celibate. Because of that, I will take care not to use profanity or make jokes about drinking and sex when I meet Sally. While it is true that Sally may prove to be quite different from my understanding of a nun, relying on my categorization of "nun" gives me a starting point from which to interact with her. As I get to know Sally better, I can correct my perceptions accordingly.

The problem is when our categories are wrongly associated with certain attributes, or when we box people into the category they fall under. This, social psychologists argue, is one of the ways prejudices may form. Let's say, for example, that I may not have many personal interactions with homeless people. The little I do know is from the news or movies where they are more often than not portrayed incredibly negatively. Thus, when I do encounter homeless people, I assume from the start that they are lazy and unintelligent. Furthermore, I attend more to their behaviors that confirm of that stereotype, in essence preventing them from proving the stereotype wrong. And the less I know about a certain category, the more likely this is to happen.

I believe that it is fundamental need for humans to categorize one another. I also believe this fundamental human need to categorize contributes directly to prejudice as well as social inequalities. The connection to social inequalities, however, will be explained in Part 2 (coming soon).

The Hunger Next Door

Note: The views expressed here are my personal views, not those of the Capital Area Food Bank of Central Texas.

I recently began a research internship at the Capital Area Food Bank of Central Texas. As part of my orientation, I was sent to help stock shelves at one of their food pantries located in the poorest parts of Austin.

Now, I will preface by saying I knew VERY LITTLE about poverty in Central Texas. As a graduate student, I am very insulated from class disparities. In the working environment, everyone around me is extremely well-educated and have a world of job prospects open to them. Even when my dad supported my mother and me on just his graduate stipend while I was growing up (and yes, that actually economically counts as living in poverty level), he knew financial relief was coming in a few years and worst case scenario, a small loan from my grandparents was only a phone call away. In my current social environment, even those who are not as highly educated are well off - whether it is due to their affluent background, or if it is because they have decent-paying jobs in a service industry. Even the friends I have who meticulously cut coupons can afford an occasional glass of wine or beer out. All that is to say, I have NO CLUE what it means to not have enough for food, and to not know if I'll ever have enough to provide for my basic biological needs.

Even when I started learning about poverty in Central Texas, it was in the form of numbers and statistics. For example, 48,000 people in Central Texas alone rely on food pantries to eat. Almost half of that number consists of children. These people regularly experience the physical pain of hunger and have to choose - on a weekly basis - between filling that hunger with food, or paying for utilities and shelter. That is heart-wrenching enough, but still it seems less real when the problem is so abstract. (More facts can be found here).

I arrived at the pantry this morning, prepared to help stock dozens of shelves with food they will distribute tomorrow. I was dismayed by how little food there was to stock. Apparently, the economy is hit hard right now, and people are giving the little resources they have to the victims of the Bastrop Fires. Which is great, since those victims have a real, immediate need. But what I didn't realize is there is a steady contingency of hungry people in Austin who are overlooked as a consequence.

This specific food pantry feeds about 140-180 people each week. We finished stocking, and I was shocked when the director looked at the few shelves lined with food and concluded with sadness "well at least we have enough to feed 130 people this week." How much food was she referring to? Let's just say my mother stocked more in our garage during the Y2K scare. Furthermore, the filled shelves could actually physically fit into my tiny Austin studio. The choices were canned corn, canned peas, cans of mixed fruit, canned peaches, applesauce, some potatoes and meat. That's it. This is what 130 people will survive on this week.

I drove home to a nice lunch of salmon and asparagus, and felt sick to my stomach knowing that tomorrow, 10-50 people less than a mile from me will find out they have nothing to eat this week. Yet here I am spending my money on pretty clothes, wine, fancy makeup, expensive haircuts...in short, things that are not crucial for survival. Now I'm not necessarily advocating denying yourself of any niceties and pleasures and giving all your money away; I realize that our economy is a much more complicated system than that. But it definitely gives me pause about the way I think about my money and how I spend it.

I'm not sure what to conclude about all this as this is an issue I'm still processing through. I will say I am glad I got involved with CAFB. And that although I do feel called to international ministry of some sort, I am beginning to see that the same brokenness and the same disparities exist next door to me, even in such an affluent city as Austin.

Contradicting "Truths"

I had a good but brief conversation with my adviser yesterday that basically highlighted the need for us to sit down and talk about the next 2 years of my graduate career. I am hoping to write up a Master's Thesis this summer and earn a new set of letters after my name to show for my last 3 years of work. In the fall, I'm probably going to propose my dissertation. That is, unless we decide to shoot for a grant (either a lab grant or a dissertation grant for me). In the off-chance we get the grant, I will likely stay in Austin a 6th year, which would mean I'd wait another year before proposing a dissertation. In the meantime, I have been itching to start bridging the gap between my research and the topic of human trafficking, and I need to start focusing my attention there.

Long story short, there is a lot to think about. Which brings me to an observation that I've made recently. 

As a yoga teacher, I'm a huge proponent of practicing what I teach, and I realize there are certain aspects of the Ashtanga practice that I teach but don't do. For example, I teach my students that the most important part of the Ashtanga sequence is the last three pranayama postures and savasana. Confession time: I've been hypocritically skipping (or at the very least truncating) those postures in my own practice. In the Screwtape Letters, CS Lewis makes the point that we as humans often hold multiple "truths" in our heads and don't pay attention to how these "truths" contradict one another. The reality is that there can only be one truth and truth cannot contradict itself. So if I really believe that it is the truth that savasana is the most important aspect of the practice, I cannot skip it in my own practice. If I do, I'm saying that I don't believe that particular "truth" and I believe in the "truth" that it is not important in my own practice. 

Which brings me back to research. I'm convinced that my interest and growing passion for social justice, particularly human trafficking, is from God. And that a lot of my training and education is preparing me to do something in that area. That it is no accident that in the last month, about 4-5 people have independently told me to think more deeply about International Justice Mission and their work. Plus my hangup in this career direction is my insecurity about my statistical knowledge and I find out on Tuesday that this summer I have the opportunity to take a 2 day intensive workshop with one of the greatest statistical minds in our field. So, if I believe that God is directing me into this area of research, shouldn't my actions reflect that? Not that I should stop my research on relationships (I still think that it is important research), but I need to allocate more of my time to social justice research, and stop worrying about advancing my career in topics outside of social justice. Basically, if I really believe that God called me to something, there is no need to keep relying on a plan B. I cannot say I believe in God's calling, and at the same time act in a way that shows distrust in Him. That is, I cannot demonstrate belief in two contradicting "truths" because it is both philosophically and logically impossible.

So this summer I have to get my priorities straight in my career. If I really believe God's calling, my actions and the projects I take on MUST reflect what I believe to be true. I have finally decided to say no to an opportunity I had recently to start a business that could potentially be very successful. It's not about money. It's not about success. It's about doing what I'm called to do and to be true to the Truth that am professing to believe.