The Routledge International Handbook of Public Sociology 2021003254, 2021003255, 9780367518837, 9781003055594, 9780367518844

Table of contents :
Cover
Half Title
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Contents
List of contributors
Preface
Acknowledgments
List of abbreviations
Section I Introduction – brief history of ‘public sociology’
1 Framing public sociology – the American lens
Section II Theoretical frames
2 Going public with Polanyi in the era of Trump
3 Toward a critical public sociology
4 The missing chapter in publications of relevant empirical studies concerning public sociology from now on (with some examples from the Israeli experience)
5 From public sociology to collective knowledge production
Section III Methodological choices in public sociology
6 Collaborating, then stepping back: doing public sociology through participatory action research
7 Methodological considerations in doing public sociology in undergraduate courses
8 Needs assessment as community research project
9 Building connections and broadening horizons through interdisciplinary public sociology
Section IV Case studies in public sociology
10 The Healthy Dearborn coalition: an interdisciplinary, continuing collaboration between university, health, government and community in Southeast Michigan
11 Social construction of public sociology: a case study of deliberative democracy engagement in Taiwan
12 Serving as ambassadors of hope: a case study in public sociology as community-based research and engagement
13 Engaging in public sociology: the Philippine case
14 Peasant mobilisations in India: intersecting class, ethnicity and nationality questions
15 David versus Goliath: using Herbert Gans’ model to explain how a campaign to save nine lambs became public sociology
Section V Students as knowledge producers
16 ‘First publics’ as knowledge producers: integrating students into organic public sociology
17 Following the Chicago school: engaging college and university students in a public sociology gentrified neighborhood program
18 The virtue of teaching public sociology in the neoliberal university
19 Centering social justice in public sociology: lessons from the undocumented student equity project
Section VI Community as knowledge producer
20 The everyday sociological imagination: co-creating new knowledge through story and radio
21 Lessons from the field: helping victim-services community organizations produce knowledge
22 Victims’ communities as knowledge producers in transitional justice processes: the case of post-conflict Colombia
Section VII Sharing knowledge toward public impact
23 Everyday public sociology
24 Public sociology and worker education: the story of the Global Labour University in South Africa
Section VIII Conclusion
25 Looking toward the future: insights from international perspectives on public sociology
Index

Citation preview

The Routledge International Handbook of Public Sociology

This book brings together the work of public sociologists from across the globe to illuminate possibilities for the practice of public sociology and the potential for international exchange in the field. In addition to sections devoted to the history, theory, methodology and possible future of public sociology, it offers a series of concrete case studies of public sociology practice from experienced scholars and practitioners, addressing core themes including the role of students in public sociology, the production of knowledge by communities and the sharing of knowledge with a view to having an influence on policy. Presenting research that is truly global in scope, The Routledge International Handbook of Public Sociology provides readers with the opportunity to consider the possibilities that exist for international collaboration in their work and reflect on future directions. As such, it will appeal to scholars across the social sciences with interests in research with public impact. Leslie Hossfeld is Professor of Sociology and Dean of the College of Behavioral, Social and Health Sciences at Clemson University, USA, and the co-editor of Food and Poverty: Food Insecurity and Food Sovereignty among America’s Poor. E. Brooke Kelly is Professor of Sociology and Assistant Chair of Sociology and Criminal Justice at the University of North Carolina Pembroke, USA, and the co-editor of Food and Poverty: Food Insecurity and Food Sovereignty among America’s Poor. Cassius Hossfeld is completing graduate studies at Clemson University, USA.

The Routledge International Handbook of Public Sociology

Edited by Leslie Hossfeld, E. Brooke Kelly and Cassius Hossfeld

First published 2022 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2022 selection and editorial matter, Leslie Hossfeld, E. Brooke Kelly and Cassius Hossfeld; individual chapters, the contributors The right of Leslie Hossfeld, E. Brooke Kelly and Cassius Hossfeld to be identified as the authors of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Hossfeld, Leslie H., 1961– editor. | Kelly, E. Brooke, 1974– editor. | Hossfeld, Cassius, 1995– editor. Title: The Routledge international handbook of public sociology / edited by Leslie Hossfeld, E. Brooke Kelly and Cassius Hossfeld. Description: Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon ; New York, NY : Routledge, 2021. | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2021003254 (print) | LCCN 2021003255 (ebook) | ISBN 9780367518837 (hardback) | ISBN 9781003055594 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Sociology. Classification: LCC HM585 .R685 2021 (print) | LCC HM585 (ebook) | DDC 301—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021003254 LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021003255 ISBN: 978-0-367-51883-7 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-003-05559-4 (ebk) ISBN: 978-0-367-51884-4 (pbk) Typeset in Bembo by Apex CoVantage, LLC

To all future public sociologists and the publics they serve.

Contents

List of contributors xi Prefacexix Acknowledgmentsxx List of abbreviations xxi SECTION I

Introduction – brief history of ‘public sociology’

1

  1 Framing public sociology – the American lens Leslie Hossfeld

3

SECTION II

Theoretical frames

9

  2 Going public with Polanyi in the era of Trump Michael Burawoy

11

  3 Toward a critical public sociology Joe R. Feagin

22

  4 The missing chapter in publications of relevant empirical studies concerning public sociology from now on (with some examples from the Israeli experience) Aaron Ellor   5 From public sociology to collective knowledge production Youyenn Teo

47 54

vii

Contents

SECTION III

Methodological choices in public sociology

67

  6 Collaborating, then stepping back: doing public sociology through participatory action research Jennifer E. Cossyleon and Gina Spitz

69

  7 Methodological considerations in doing public sociology in undergraduate courses Jennifer Vanderminden and Julia Waity

79

  8 Needs assessment as community research project Augie Diana   9 Building connections and broadening horizons through interdisciplinary public sociology Catherine Mobley

91

104

SECTION IV

Case studies in public sociology 10 The Healthy Dearborn coalition: an interdisciplinary, continuing collaboration between university, health, government and community in Southeast Michigan Carmel E. Price, Paul Draus, Rose Wellman, Sara Gleicher, Hala Alazzawi, Kathleen Pepin, David Norwood and Natalie R. Sampson

119

121

11 Social construction of public sociology: a case study of deliberative democracy engagement in Taiwan Dung-sheng Chen

133

12 Serving as ambassadors of hope: a case study in public sociology as community-based research and engagement Carrie Lee Smith and Mary Hendricks Glazier

144

13 Engaging in public sociology: the Philippine case Phoebe Zoe Maria Sanchez 14 Peasant mobilisations in India: intersecting class, ethnicity and nationality questions Debal K. SinghaRoy

viii

154

173

Contents

15 David versus Goliath: using Herbert Gans’ model to explain how a campaign to save nine lambs became public sociology Kimberley Ducey

186

SECTION V

Students as knowledge producers

211

16 ‘First publics’ as knowledge producers: integrating students into organic public sociology Miriam Greenberg, Rebecca A. London and Steven C. McKay

213

17 Following the Chicago school: engaging college and university students in a public sociology gentrified neighborhood program Leonard A. Steverson and Jennifer E. Melvin

226

18 The virtue of teaching public sociology in the neoliberal university Martin Tolich and Michael Fallon 19 Centering social justice in public sociology: lessons from the undocumented student equity project Laura E. Enriquez and Martha Morales Hernandez

238

250

SECTION VI

Community as knowledge producer

263

20 The everyday sociological imagination: co-creating new knowledge through story and radio Amanda McMillan Lequieu

265

21 Lessons from the field: helping victim-services community organizations produce knowledge Heather Parrott and Colby Valentine

277

22 Victims’ communities as knowledge producers in transitional justice processes: the case of post-conflict Colombia Camilo Tamayo Gomez

287

SECTION VII

Sharing knowledge toward public impact 23 Everyday public sociology Colby R. King, Angelique C. Harris, Todd Schoepflin, Karen Sternheimer and Jonathan Wynn

301 303

ix

Contents

24 Public sociology and worker education: the story of the Global Labour University in South Africa Michelle Williams and Edward Webster

315

SECTION VIII

Conclusion327 25 Looking toward the future: insights from international perspectives on public sociology E. Brooke Kelly

329

Index336

x

Contributors

Hala Alazzawi was born in Dearborn to an Iraqi father and a Lebanese mother. With the constant encouragement of her loving family, she graduated with high distinction from the University of Michigan–Dearborn in 2019. She holds a bachelor’s degree in sociology and women’s studies. In addition, she has obtained a certificate and minor in Arab American studies. Alazzawi will begin a master’s of social work program at the University of Michigan-Ann Arbor in September 2021. She joined Healthy Dearborn’s Inclusive Health Committee in April 2018. Since then, she has participated in a myriad of initiatives centered on empowering individuals with disabilities throughout Dearborn. Michael Burawoy, British sociologist and Professor of Sociology at the University of California, Berkeley, is a leading scholar in labor process theory. His book Manufacturing Consent (1979) has been translated into several languages. As President of the American Sociological Association (ASA) (2004), he launched the ‘public sociology’ platform, which stimulated a worldwide debate on the mission of the discipline. His work ranges from race and class (The Colour of Class on the Copper Mines, 1972), the sociology of work and the transition from socialism to capitalism (The Politics of Production, 1985) to globalization (Global Ethnography, 2000). Burawoy was President of the International Sociological Association (2010–14) and founding editor of its magazine Global Dialogue (2010–17). Dung-sheng Chen received his doctoral degree in sociology from the University of Minnesota

in 1990 and is a faculty member at the Department of Sociology, National Taiwan University. His research interests include political economy of urban development, deliberative democracy and establishment of civil societies and organizational networks of high-technology industries. He published research articles in Taiwan’s major sociology journals and in English journals such as the China Quarterly, Geo-Journal and East Asian Science, Technology, and Society. His public engagement covers some important issues regarding consolidation of Taiwan’s democratic institution, citizen participation in science and technology policies and reform of higher education in Taiwan. Jennifer E. Cossyleon is an activist-scholar whose research focuses on local social movements,

gender, race and class and urban poverty and inequality through community-engaged methods. Cossyleon is currently a Mellon/American Council of Learned Societies Public Fellow at Community Change, a national social justice organization that works to build power from the ground-up, particularly among black and immigrant people. She received her PhD in sociology from Loyola University Chicago, where she worked for six years at the Center for Urban Research and Learning collaborating on projects ranging from community organizing, to housing, to the criminal justice system. xi

Contributors

Augie Diana, PhD, holds three academic degrees in sociology and has been an applied sociolo-

gist his entire professional career. Currently, Augie serves as an officer of two professional sociological associations: past chair of an ASA section, and treasurer of Association for Applied and Clinical Sociology (AACS). Augie’s professional career has included work federal service (retired December 2019), at state agencies, as an independent research consultant, and in small business. Augie has served as coordinator of research and technology portfolios at the National Institute of Health (NIH), led development of disease prevention and wellness portfolios, overseen national evaluations and data/technology initiatives and designed and implemented community-based research studies in areas such as physical activity, drug use/abuse and media/communications. Paul Draus, PhD, is Professor of Sociology in the Department of Behavioral Sciences at the

University of Michigan–Dearborn, where he directs the graduate program in criminology and criminal justice. He is the author of Consumed in the City: Observing Tuberculosis at Century’s End (2004) and has published numerous articles on health behaviors and social contexts related to substance abuse, from crack cocaine in small towns in Ohio to heroin and street sex work in the City of Detroit. His most recent research focuses on the relationship between neighborhood landscape change, urban ecology and the health of marginalized communities in Detroit. Kimberley Ducey, PhD, is Associate Professor of Sociology at the University of Winnipeg. Her work appears in such publications as Animal Oppression, the Handbook of Public Criminologies, the Cambridge Handbook of Sociology and the Handbook of the Sociology of Racial and Ethnic Relations. Her books include Revealing Britain’s Systemic Racism (2021, with J. Feagin), Racist America (4th ed., 2018, with J. Feagin), Elite White Men Ruling (2017, with J. Feagin) and Liberation Sociology (3rd ed., 2014, with J. Feagin and H. Vera). Dr. Ducey has edited two books: George Yancy: A  Critical Reader (2021, with C. Headley and J. Feagin) and Systemic Racism Theory: Making Liberty, Justice, and Democracy Real (2017, with R. Thompson-Miller). Aaron Ellor received his PhD from Anglia Ruskin University (Chelmsford and Cambridge) in 2008. He lectures on eight different sociology courses, mainly at Tel Aviv University and at the Open University of Israel. He is founder and editor of the publications series Tel Aviv Sociology, published by the Department of Sociology and Anthropology of Tel Aviv University. Since 2013, he has been head of the Public Sociology Section at the Israeli Sociological Association. Along with researching (and encouraging) public sociology and sociological practice, he specializes in sociology of culture, mass communication and sociology of law. His central book addresses decoding of modern Western social myths. He has also been a journalist and a senior editor in Israeli periodical newspapers and was a senior officer in the Israeli Army. Laura E. Enriquez is Associate Professor of Chicano/Latino studies at the University of California, Irvine. She earned her PhD in sociology from the University of California, Los Angeles. Her research focuses on the educational, political and social experiences of undocumented young adults and members of mixed-status families. She is author of the book Of Love and Papers: How Immigration Policy Affects Romance and Family (University of California Press). Her research has also been published in the Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies, Social Science and Medicine, Journal of Marriage and Family and Social Problems. Michael Fallon received his BA from the University of Notre Dame in sociology and education

and his MA from the University of San Francisco in education, organization and leadership. In

xii

Contributors

addition to teaching high school and college, Michael has worked with community organizations on health, homelessness and sustainability issues. At San José State University (SJSU), his community involvement was instrumental in developing several community-based courses and a Community-University-City San José partnership. He became director of the SJSU Center for Community Learning & Leadership. Michael retired as lecturer emeritus in 2017; he continues to support SJSU in various ways. Joe R. Feagin is Distinguished Professor and Ella C. McFadden Professor in sociology at Texas

A&M University. He is recognized for his research on US racism, sexism and political economy issues. He has written or co-written over 70 books and over 200 scholarly articles. His books include Systemic Racism (2006); White Party, White Government (2012); Latinos Facing Racism (2014); How Blacks Built America (2015); Elite White Men Ruling (2017, with K. Ducey); Racist America (2019, with K. Ducey); Rethinking Diversity Frameworks in Higher Education (2020, with E. Chun) and The White Racial Frame (2020). He is the recipient of a 2012 Soka Gakkai International-USA Social Justice Award, the 2013 American Association for Affirmative Action’s Arthur Fletcher Lifetime Achievement Award and three major American Sociological Association awards: W. E. B. Du Bois Career of Distinguished Scholarship Award, the CoxJohnson-Frazier Award (for research in the African American scholarly tradition) and the Public Understanding of Sociology Award. He was the 1999–2000 president of the American Sociological Association. Mary Hendricks Glazier is a retired professor of sociology at Millersville University. From

2012 to 2020 she was the director of the university’s Center for Public Scholarship and Social Change. Her research interests include racial disparities in bail practices, the needs of children of incarcerated parents, resident-driven community development projects, financial exploitation of the elderly, focused deterrence strategies to reduce violence and re-entry. Her community service for organizations such as the Lancaster City Police Foundation, Ambassadors for Hope (Supporting Children with a Parent in Prison) and Lancaster Youth Intervention Center complements her research activities. Sara Gleicher is a licensed master’s social worker. She has 36 years of professional experience. She served as Chief of Staff for the late Detroit City Council President Maryann Mahaffey for 21 years. In 2006, Gleicher was hired by a Detroit-based community mental health organization to lead the agency’s policy and advocacy program as well as multiple grant-funded initiatives. In 2015, Beaumont Health launched the Healthy Dearborn Coalition, and Gleicher served as its project manager for four and a half years. Now retired from professional practice, Gleicher continues to supervise social work students and assist with grant-writing assignments. Camilo Tamayo Gomez, PhD, is Senior Lecturer in Criminology and Security Studies, Bir-

mingham City University (UK), Senior Adviser in Transitional Justice for the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) and appointed to Colombia’s Truth, Memory and Reconciliation Commission. He is also affiliated to the British Sociological Association (BSA) and is board member of the Research Committee on Social Movements, Collective Action and Social Change (RC48) of the International Sociological Association (ISA). His current research focuses on the relationship between security, conflict, transnational and comparative criminology, global south criminology, multiplatform social justice and transitional justice from a sociological perspective.

xiii

Contributors

Miriam Greenberg, PhD, is Professor and Chair of Sociology at the University of California Santa Cruz. She is the author of Branding New York: How a City in Crisis Was Sold to the World (2008), co-author of Crisis Cities: Disaster and Redevelopment in New York and New Orleans (2014) and co-editor of The City Is the Factory: New Solidarities and Spatial Tactics in an Urban Age (2017). Her public-facing, student-engaged research projects explore urban and environmental justice issues in California, including ‘Critical Sustainabilities’ and ‘No Place Like Home,’ on the experience of the affordable housing crisis in Santa Cruz County. Angelique C. Harris, PhD, is Director of Faculty Development, Boston University Medical

Campus, and Director of Faculty Development and Diversity, Department of Medicine, Boston University. She designs, implements and leads innovative programs and initiatives aimed at providing and promoting more equitable learning and working environments for faculty, staff and students. An applied medical sociologist, her research examines health, wellness and resilience within marginalized communities. Her areas of research expertise are in race and ethnicity, gender and sexualities, health and illness, social movements, cultural studies and urban studies. More specifically, her research examines how the marginalization and stigmatization experienced by people of color, and in particular queer people of color, impact their access to resources. Martha Morales Hernandez is a doctoral student in sociology at the University of Califor-

nia, Irvine (UCI). She received her BA and MA in sociology from UCI. Her research agenda aims to identify ways to better support and promote the educational success and well-being of undocumented college students. Her current research explores the factors that contribute to positive mental health outcomes among undocumented college students. Her research has been published in Race and Social Problems and Law and Social Inquiry. Colby R. King, PhD, is Assistant Professor of Sociology, University of South Carolina Upstate. Originally from Western Pennsylvania and the first in his family to earn a bachelor’s degree, he teaches sociology focused on social inequality and how place shapes opportunity. Dr. King has published research on post-recession shifts in occupational structures in the Pittsburgh and Detroit metropolitan regions, the geography and demographics of the working class in the United States, DIY place branding in deindustrialized cities and the development of campus programming supporting the development of students’ social and cultural capitals. He is a member of the American Sociological Association’s Task Force on First-Generation and WorkingClass Persons in Sociology. Amanda McMillan Lequieu is Assistant Professor of Sociology at Drexel University. She

earned her PhD in sociology from the University of Wisconsin–Madison in 2019. She has received awards from the American Sociological Association’s sections on environmental sociology and public sociology, the Society for the Study of Social Problem’s Labor and Community Development Networks and the Rural Sociological Society. Her research interests center on the tensions between economic crisis, environmental change and the working class. She studies economically and environmentally precarious communities from a methodological perspective that foregrounds connections between rural and urban regions. Rebecca A. London, PhD, is Associate Professor of Sociology at the University of California

Santa Cruz. Her community-engaged research focuses on understanding the challenges faced by disadvantaged children, youth and young adults and the ways that communities and community xiv

Contributors

organizations support them to be healthy and successful. She is the author of Rethinking Recess: Creating Safe and Inclusive Playtime for All Children in School (2019) and co-editor of From Data to Action: A Community Approach to Improving Youth Outcomes (2013). She is an advisory board member of the Sociology Action Network of the American Sociological Association. Steven C. McKay is Associate Professor of Sociology and Director of the Center for Labor Studies at the University of California Santa Cruz. He is the author of Satanic Mills or Silicon Islands? The Politics of High Tech Production in the Philippines (2006); co-editor of New Routes for Diaspora Studies (2012) and co-editor of Precarity and Belonging: Labor, Migration, and Noncitizenship (2021). His community-initiated student-engaged research (CISER) projects have focused on low-wage work, affordable rental housing and mixed legal status families in California. His other research examines Filipino merchant seafarers and the making of race, masculinity and global labor niches. Jennifer E. Melvin is Associate Professor of Sociology at Flagler College. She holds a PhD in

sociology from the University of Texas at Austin. Her research agenda and teaching explore intersections of disadvantage and how they create health disparities. She co-authored the textbooks: Introductory Sociology (2009) and Debating Social Problems (2019) and is the co-author of several peer-reviewed journal articles and book chapters on the health and mortality rates of disadvantaged immigrant groups. Catherine Mobley is Professor of Sociology at Clemson University. Her primary areas of research are environmental sustainability, food insecurity and STEM education. Dr. Mobley has engaged in public and applied sociology for a variety of organizations, including the RAND Corporation, the American Association of Retired Persons, the U.S. Department of Education, the Walter Reed Army Institute of Research, the United Way of Pickens County and Meals on Wheels. Dr. Mobley holds a BA in sociology from Clemson University, an MS in policy analysis and development from the University of Bath (England) and a PhD in sociology from the University of Maryland. David Norwood has worked at the City of Dearborn since 1992 in the Legal Department,

Mayor’s Office, and as the director of the Department of Building and Safety. Since 2009, Norwood has been Dearborn’s Sustainability Coordinator. He serves as project lead on sustainability projects – residential curbside recycling, ‘greening’ the city’s fleet, implementing energy efficiency projects, bike sharing, urban forestry and stormwater management projects. Norwood is the municipal partner in the Healthy Dearborn Coalition. He has a BS degree in biological science from the University of Michigan–Dearborn and a JD with an environmental law focus from the Detroit College of Law. Heather Parrott, PhD, is Associate Professor of Sociology and Chair of the Department of

Social Sciences at Long Island University Post. She received her PhD from the University of Georgia, where she also completed graduate certificates in non-profit management and women’s studies. Parrott is currently working on a number of research projects with community agencies, including research on human trafficking, the long-term health effects of abuse and educational equity. Kathleen Pepin is Lecturer in the Department of Health and Human Services at the University

of Michigan–Dearborn and former director of campus planning. She was an original member xv

Contributors

of the Healthy Dearborn Steering Committee. Her research focuses on human-centered design, identity and access. Carmel E. Price is Associate Professor of Sociology and an affiliate faculty of the Center for Arab American Studies and the Women and Gender Studies programs at the University of Michigan–Dearborn, where she conducts community-based research on food insecurity and environmental justice. She is a co-founder of two community-academic projects: Environmental Health Research-to-Action and the College and University Pantries research teams. Price also serves on the Steering Committee for Healthy Dearborn and leads the Healthy Dearborn Research Committee. Her interdisciplinary background in education (BA), social work (MSW) and sociology (PhD) lends itself well to community-based collaborations in teaching and research. Natalie R. Sampson, PhD, is Associate Professor at the University of Michigan–Dearborn, where she conducts applied research to document and address the public health implications of transportation and land use planning, particularly related to air and water quality and climate change. She strives for equitable research collaborations to inform policy solutions and uses a broad methodological tool kit, including photovoice, concept mapping and health impact assessment. She is also a co-founder of Environmental Health Research-to-Action, a community-academic partnership to build intergenerational capacity in community-led science and policy advocacy to address environmental racism. Sampson teaches undergraduate courses on environmental health and community organizing. Phoebe Zoe Maria Sanchez, PhD, is a professor of sociology and history at the University of

the Philippines Cebu. As a professor of public sociology, Sanchez highlights work in line with human rights policy analyses in the Philippines, housing and urban development, governance and civil society institutionalization. She is known for her work on ‘Playing the Game: Reform Politicians in the Cebu Traditional Political Field’ and ‘Cebu’s Subnational Politics: A Survey of Philippine Political Structure and Culture.’ Both were published in the Springer Journal of Law and Social Sciences (JLSS) of the Global Science Technology Forum (GSTF). Professor Sanchez is a research fellow at the Universite Catholique de Louvain, Louvain-la-Neuve, Belgium. Todd Schoepflin is Associate Professor of Sociology at Niagara University in Lewiston, New

York. He has a PhD in sociology from Stony Brook University. The courses he teaches include introduction to sociology, social psychology and social stratification. He is the author of Sociology in Stories: A Creative Introduction to a Fascinating Perspective. His blog posts have appeared on the Everyday Sociology Blog since 2010. He is co-author of two chapters in A Sociology Experiment. His sociological short stories have been published by the Sociological Review. Debal K. SinghaRoy is Professor of Sociology and Head, Gandhi and peace studies, Indira Gandhi National Open University. He possesses more than 40 years of teaching and research experiences and a good length of administrative experiences in the university system. His areas of specialization are peasant movements, social development, knowledge society and marginalized people. He is a recipient of an Australian Government Endeavour Fellowship, (Australia), Commonwealth Fellowship (UK), Alternative Development Studies Fellowship (Netherlands) and Shastri-Indo Canadian Fellow (Canada). His widely acclaimed works include Identity, Society and Transformative Social Categories, Sage, New Delhi, 2018; Towards a Knowledge Society: New Identities in Emerging India, Cambridge University Press, New Delhi, 2014; Peasant Movements xvi

Contributors

in Post-Colonial India: Dynamics of Mobilisation and Identity, Sage, New Delhi, 2004; and several other titles. Carrie Lee Smith is Associate Professor in the Criminology, Sociology and Anthropology

Department at Millersville University. Her specialty areas include community-based research, reproduction and birth, sex and gender and sociology of the professions. She is the co-editor (with Donna King) of Men Who Hate Women and Women Who Kick Their Asses: Stieg Larsson’s Millennium Trilogy in Feminist Perspective (Vanderbilt University Press, 2012). She currently serves as the coordinator of the university’s Center for Public Scholarship and Social Change and serves on the boards of several local non-profit organizations. Gina Spitz received her MS and PhD (2015) in sociology from the University of Wisconsin–

Madison, where her work focused on racial inequality, race relations and neighborhoods. She currently works as research faculty at Loyola University Chicago’s Center for Urban Research and Learning (CURL), where she heads up interdisciplinary team research and evaluation projects with community-based organizations in Chicago. Karen Sternheimer teaches in the Sociology Department at the University of Southern Cali-

fornia, where she is also the director of undergraduate studies. Her commentary has been published in a variety of national newspapers, and she has appeared on numerous television and radio programs. Editor of the Everyday Sociology Blog since its inception in 2007, she is also the editor of Everyday Sociology Reader and the author of several books, including The Social Scientist’s Soapbox: Adventures in Writing Public Sociology. Leonard A. Steverson is Associate Professor emeritus of sociology at South Georgia State College and currently an adjunct professor of sociology at Flagler College in Florida, where he teaches public sociology. He has a BS and an MS in sociology and a PhD in human services. His most recent publications include Debating Social Problems (Routledge, 2018, with Jennifer E. Melvin), Madness Reimagined: Envisioning a Better System of Mental Health in America and Addiction Reimagined: Challenging Views of an Enduring Social Problem (2018 and 2020, Vernon Press). Prior to his lengthy academic career, he held several positions in community corrections and community mental health. Youyenn Teo is Associate Professor, Provost’s Chair and Head of Sociology at Nanyang Technological University, Singapore. She is the author of Neoliberal Morality in Singapore: How Family Policies Make State and Society (Routledge, 2011) and This Is What Inequality Looks Like (Ethos Books, 2018). Apart from academic writings, she has contributed to public debate through public lectures and media commentaries. She is one of the founding editors of AcademiaSG, a platform set up for academics working on Singapore to contribute to public discourse. Martin Tolich gained his first degrees from the University of Auckland and his PhD from the University California, Davis. Tolich has become a specialist in qualitative research and research ethics, publishing books for Sage, Oxford, Pearson and Routledge. He has taught sociology at Massey University and Otago University. In 2008, he founded the independent New Zealand ethics committee, and in 2012, he was awarded a blue skies research grant from the Royal Society of New Zealand to examine tensions between researchers and ethics committees (IRBs). He sources Michael Burawoy’s Manufacturing Consent as the genesis of his sociological imagination. xvii

Contributors

Colby Valentine, PhD, is an associate professor of criminal justice at Dominican College in

Orangeburg, New York. She received her PhD from the College of Criminology and Criminal Justice at Florida State University. Her research interests include correctional-based research (i.e., prison misconduct, jail visitation, solitary confinement), victimization (i.e., sex and labor trafficking, intimate partner violence) and criminology and criminal justice pedagogy. Jennifer Vanderminden is an associate professor of sociology at the University of North Carolina Wilmington (UNCW). She received her PhD in sociology from the University of New Hampshire. Vanderminden worked as a research scientist at the Family Research Laboratory and Crimes against Children Research Center prior to joining UNCW. Through her research, teaching and service she hopes to improve the lives of vulnerable children. Dr. Vanderminden’s expertise is specifically in the areas of childhood victimization, disability, data analysis, research design, community-based research and the scholarship of teaching and learning. Julia Waity is an associate professor of sociology at the University of North Carolina Wilmington. She received her PhD in sociology from Indiana University. Dr. Waity’s research and teaching interests include poverty and inequality generally, with a focus on food insecurity and food access, as well as community-based research and the scholarship of teaching and learning. Her current research examines college food insecurity. Edward Webster is distinguished research professor at the Southern Centre of Inequality

Studies at the University of the Witwatersrand. His recent publications include The Unresolved National Question: Left Thought under Apartheid, 2017 (co-edited with Karin Pampallis) and Crossing the Divide: Precarious Work and the Future of Labour, 2017 (co-edited with Sharit Bhowmik and Akua Britwum). In 2019 he received a Lifetime Achievement Award from the South African Sociological Association for his contribution to the discipline of sociology in Southern Africa and the world. Rose Wellman is an Assistant Professor of Anthropology at the University of Michigan–Dearborn who specializes in Iran, the Middle East and its diaspora. Between 2007 and 2010, she conducted ethnographic research in Iran. The result is her forthcoming book, Feeding Iran: Shi’i Families and the Making of an Islamic Republic. In addition to her monograph, Rose is the coeditor with Dr. Todne Thomas and Dr. Asiya Malik of New Directions of Spiritual Kinship: Sacred Ties across the Abrahamic Religions (Palgrave Macmillan, 2017). Michelle Williams is professor of sociology at the University of the Witwatersrand, South

Africa. Her recent publications include Building Alternatives: The Story of India’s Oldest Worker Owner Cooperative, 2017 (co-authored with Thomas Isaac); The End of the Developmental State?, 2014; Marxisms in the 21st Century: Crisis, Critique, and Struggle, 2013 (co-edited with Vishwas Satgar). Jonathan Wynn is Chair and Associate Professor of Sociology at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. Broadly, his research focuses on urban and cultural sociology. He has written two books: The Tour Guide: Walking and Talking New York and Music/City: American Festivals and Placemaking in Austin, Nashville and Newport (both with University of Chicago Press). His work has been published not only in academic journals but also in the Washington Post, the Atlantic, Salon, CNN and the Guardian. He still enjoys writing for the Everyday Sociology Blog.

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Preface

Public sociology has a long tradition. The practice and applications of the discipline have early roots in US sociology dating back to the 19th century. While there have been intervals and nodal points of bringing attention to public sociology, it was not until 2004 when American Sociological Association president Michael Burawoy created a platform for public sociology in the United States, and a framework for institutionalizing and recognizing public sociology, that such a focus took hold in the discipline. Yet while it has a long US tradition, public sociology plays out differently globally. The purpose of this Handbook is to bring together the work of public sociologists from across the globe to illuminate variations and possibilities for the practice of public sociology and the potential for international exchange and collaboration in the field. Like other volumes on public sociology, this volume provides concrete examples of public sociology practice from seasoned, experienced practitioners. In contrast to other volumes that focus primarily on public sociology in the United States, this volume allows the reader to view a greater range of challenges and possibilities for the practice of public sociology through multiple examples from scholars around the world. Consequently, public sociology scholars can learn from each other and consider possibilities for international collaborations and alliances in their work. The Routledge International Handbook on Public Sociology is significantly different from any book on the topic to date. The contributions from international scholars, the innovative examples from academics across the globe help to illuminate and tease out the challenges and strengths of public sociology and move the topic beyond the US-centric focus it has had to date. This is a primary aim of the book: to move beyond the US-centric lens of public sociology. This volume is an impressive collection of work by expert public sociologists in the field, in the academy and across the globe. International scholars provide meaningful lessons on the practice of public sociology in the academy in each unique country setting. Scholars provide insight into the ways in which they are able to maneuver public sociology and scholarly engagement in their research and curriculum development, through student engagement, and in working with communities. This volume provides both theoretical framing for public sociology work and important discussions on methodological decision-making, as well as working with various publics, including ‘first publics’ (students) and communities and policymakers. The Routledge International Handbook on Public Sociology contributes to the literature on public sociology, with hands-on applicability for those wishing to do this work, as well as insight into the challenges scholars have in the United States as well as internationally. We believe readers of this Handbook will walk away with keen insight into the myriad ways in which public sociology is carried out, as well as the promise of public sociology for the discipline. xix

Acknowledgments

Putting together this Handbook has been a mammoth undertaking spanning over a year and a half. Notwithstanding the normal hurdles of editing a book of this scope, we did so during a pandemic that has affected everyone around the globe. We are indebted to the 47 scholars, from all world time zones, who have contributed to this volume sharing their lifework and passion for doing public sociology. We would like to thank our editors at Routledge who realized early on the importance of this volume. We are also grateful to the reviewers who provided such constructive feedback on the manuscript.

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Abbreviations

AACS ACC ACS AFH AFP AMOR ANC AR ASA ASOVIDA ASR BJP BSA CAA CAFGU CAP CARE CATI CBPAR CDC CEV CFW CHACHA CHED CHR CICC CISER COFI COIPNLC COMELEC COSATU CPI CPIM CPP CPSSC

Association for Applied and Clinical Sociology Animal Care Center of NYC American Community Survey Ambassadors for Hope Armed Forces of the Philippines Association of Organised Women of Eastern Antioquia African National Congress Animal Rights American Sociological Association Association of Victims of Granada Town American Sociological Review Bharatiya Janata Party British Sociological Association Citizenship Amendment Act 2019 Citizens Armed Force Geographical Unit Community Action Partnership The Centre to Approach Reconciliation and Reparation Computer Assisted Telephone Interviewing Community-Based Participatory Action Research Centers for Disease Control and Prevention Truth and Reconciliation Commission Chicago Foundation for Women Charter Changes Commission on Higher Education Commission on Human Rights Cebu International Convention Center Community-Initiated Student Engaged Research Community Organizing and Family Issues Children of Incarcerated Parents Network of Lancaster County Commission on Elections Congress of South African Trade Unions Communist Party of India Communist Party of India (Marxists) Communist Party of the Philippines Center for Public Scholarship & Social Change

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Abbreviations

CURL DAAD DACA DDR DSS EDSA EDTP SETA ELI EOP EPA ESB FAQ FARC FES FOSATU FSA FUTURE GAL GDP GIS GLBTQ/LBGQT/LGBTQ GLU GSTF HD HHS ICDD ICTs ICU IDA ILO IMF IRB ISA JEP JLSS KAUGMAON KMP LAHC LI-ARC LMSW LRA MDG MMTP MOA xxii

Loyola University Chicago’s Center for Urban Research and Learning Deutscher Akademischer Austauschdienst Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals Disarmament, Demobilization and Reintegration Department of Social Services Epifanio de los Santos Avenue Revolution Education Development and Training Practices Sector Education Training Authority Extremely Low Income Educational Opportunities Programs Environmental Protection Agency Everyday Sociology Blog Frequently Asked Questions The Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia Friedrich Ebert Stiftung Federation of South African Trade Unions Family Services Advocate (translated as) Union for the Future of Small Farmers in Negros Oriental Guardian Ad Litem Gross Domestic Product Geographic Information Systems Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer Global Labour University Global Science Technology Forum Healthy Dearborn Department of Health and Human Services International Center for Development and Decent Work Information and Communication Technologies Industrial and Commercial Workers Union In Defense of Animals International Labour Organization International Monetary Fund Institutional Review Board International Sociological Association Special Peace Jurisdiction Journal of Law and Social Sciences Kahugpungan Alang sa Ugma sa Gagmay nga Mag-uuma sa Oriental Negros Kilusang Magbubukid ng Pilipinas Leaders Advancing and Helping Communities Long Island Applied Research Center Licenced Master Social Worker Labour Relations Act Millennium Development Goals Multi-Modal Transportation Plan Memorandum of Agreement

Abbreviations

MOU NAACP NACTU NCHM NDF NFSW NGO NIH NPA NPR NQF NRC NTU OFW ONDCP OPS PACT PAR PETA PISA PISTON PNP POWER-PAC PRODEPAZ RFP RSP SAMHSA SCU SEMPO SERVE SIREN SJSU SNAP SSARC SWAN TANF TCP TMC TRS TUCC TUFA TUPQ TURP UBI UBPD UCI UCLA

Memorandum of Understanding National Association for the Advancement of Colored People National Council of Trade Unions National Centre for Historical Memory of Colombia National Democratic Front National Federation of Sugar Workers Nongovernmental Organization National Institute of Health New People’s Army National Population Register National Qualifications Framework National Register of Citizens National Taiwan University Overseas Filipino Worker Office of National Drug Control Policy Organic Public Sociology People Acting in Community Together Participatory Action Research People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals Programme for International Student Assessment Pinagkaisang Samahan ng mga Tsuper at Operators Nationwide Philippine National Police Parents Organized to Win, Educate, and Renew  – Policy Action Council Programme for Development and Peace of Eastern Antioquia Request for Proposal Revolutionary Socialist Party Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration State Comprehensive University Synchronized Enhanced Managing of Police Operations Service Employees Registration and Voter Education Services, Immigration Rights and Education Network San José State University Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program Social Science Applied Research Center Scaling Walls a Note at a Time Temporary Assistance to Needy Families Trinamool Congress Party All India Trinamool Congress Telangana Rashtriya Samiti Trade Union Competence Centre Talalak Farmers Association Trade Union Practice Qualification Trade Union Research Project Universal Basic Income Search Unit for Disappeared People University of California, Irvine University of California, Los Angeles xxiii

Abbreviations

UMAA UMD UNCW UNDP UP-DND USDA USEP WB WIC

xxiv

University of Michigan–Ann Arbor University of Michigan–Dearborn University of North Carolina Wilmington United Nations Development Programme University of the Philippines – Department of National Defense United States Department of Agriculture Undocumented Student Equity Project World Bank Women, Infants, and Children

Section I

Introduction – brief history of ‘public sociology’

1 Framing public sociology – the American lens Leslie Hossfeld

As we finalize this edition of the International Handbook on Public Sociology, we are in the middle of a pandemic – a disease that has put a standstill to every point on the globe. Pressures on every element of social life are exacerbated – long-standing inequalities brought into sharp focus. The very need for public sociology is palpable and imperative. What a profoundly troubling time for people everywhere, and what a moment for public sociology. While it has a long American tradition, public sociology plays out differently globally. The purpose of this Handbook is to bring together the work of public sociologists from across the globe to illuminate variations and possibilities for the practice of public sociology and the potential for international exchange and collaboration in the field. Like other volumes on public sociology, this volume provides concrete examples of public sociology practice from experienced practitioners. In contrast to other volumes that focus primarily on public sociology in the United States, this volume allows the reader to view a greater range of challenges and possibilities for the practice of public sociology through multiple examples from scholars around the world. Consequently, public sociology scholars can learn from each other and consider possibilities for international collaborations and alliances in their work. The COVID-19 pandemic has created a very profound moment in academia, bringing front and center the promise of sociology in creating meaningful social change. The attention to conducting public sociology and where it plays out globally has perhaps never been more acute. In this introductory chapter we provide a brief historiography of public sociology in American sociology  – where the coinage of the term took hold. The volume then turns to the work from scholars from across the globe, who share their understanding of public sociology in the contexts of their communities, research agendas, and institutional and community challenges, providing a true handbook for those seeking to do this type of work.

Public sociology – the American lens At least ten years before the first president of the American Sociological Association, Lester Ward, told his audience at the first American Sociological Association annual conference in 1906 that ‘sociology, established as a pure science, is now entering upon its applied stage, which is the great practical object for which it exists,’ sociologists Jane Addams, Katherine Davis, 3

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Florence Kelley, WEB Du Bois and Isabel Eaton were actively engaged in extensive research projects embedded in and with community, with the singular purpose of illuminating inequalities and making social change. Throughout the late 1890s, these sociologists created research protocols and methodological tools to examine the most pressing issues of the day. From the Hull-House Maps and Papers by Addams and team to the Philadelphia Study and Atlanta Laboratory of Du Bois, Eaton and team, these sociologists worked assiduously to create an engaged public sociology that sought to change the conditions of poverty, racism, sexism and structural inequality in the United States. Learning from one another, these early American sociologists, themselves marginalized by the sexism and racism they sought to dismantle through their public sociology endeavors, set the bar high for future sociologists committed to the promise of sociology to make the world a better place. No discussion of public sociology today can be complete without acknowledging this body of early research, yet so few do. While this Handbook focuses on contemporary work by scholars in the United States and abroad, who view this early work as public sociology, we would be remiss if we did not, at the very least, pay homage to these early public sociology pioneers whose work embodies the type of community-based research that so many sociologists embrace and emulate today. In this section we briefly chronicle nodal points of the development of public sociology, primarily in the United States, and provide this as a context and framework for the sociologists whose work is featured in this volume. Too often, public sociology does not draw from, what should now be considered, this classical work, and to omit this early canon of sociological work robs us of the robust history of research and praxis that benefits scholars of public sociology.

Early American Sociology: Hull House Maps and Papers 1895, Farmville Study 1897, The Philadelphia Negro 1899, The Atlanta Laboratory and The Crisis 1910 The Hull House Settlement project was a mammoth undertaking at the turn of the 20th century that represented a distinct change from the academy and an intentional communitybased sociology that exemplified ‘advocacy through objectivity’ (O’Conner 2001:26). Addams, a powerhouse in her own right, assembled and developed a research enterprise that examined immigrant housing settlements and opportunity structure. Mapping was central to this sociological enterprise: borrowing from the seminal work of Charles Booth’s London poverty maps (1891). Addams and her team expanded this work and focused on living conditions and labor in Chicago, creating the Hull House Settlement Project. This work ‘gave the settlement a voice’ (34) in which she ‘studied poverty, not the poor’ (26). Through the applied nature of this work, in which Addams trained women who lived in the residences on methods and skills of research and data collection, the project amassed an inventory of data and research that illuminated, visually, through color-coded mapping, the dimensions of social stratification based on race and ethnicity, gender, household composition and wage levels. The Hull House research gave voice to the role of women and children, not as dependents but as income producers for the household. It was groundbreaking work, based in community, working with community, with the goal of not only giving the settlement a voice, but to make a difference and create social change and policy implementation that would improve the lives and conditions of residents – social scientific methods and research to change lives. The Hull House team was an impressive assemblage of researchers, women primarily: Katherine Davis, Florence Kelley and Isabel Eaton. In close correspondence, and academic kindred spirits, were Addams and WEB Du Bois. Du Bois and team, primarily Isabel Eaton, would 4

Framing public sociology

expand on the project that Addams and her team created and deepen the work and models by not only mapping and documenting the dimensions of social stratification but developing social theory to explain inequalities. Du Bois’ prolific canon has been chronicled more recently; however, it had been largely absent from the discipline for over a century. Recent work by Aldon Morris (2015), Earl Wright (2016a) and others (Jakubek and Wood 2018; Deegan 1988) have restored the work of the ‘scholar denied’ in sociological discourse and study that had been ‘erased from the collective memory of sociology and social science’ (Morris 2015:195). The corpus of research is remarkable and should be explored by anyone wishing to better understand American public sociology: from the sociological Farmville case study of 1897 documenting rural black Americans described as ‘rural sociology grounded in an emancipatory empiricism’ with an ‘emancipatory research agenda’ (Jakubek and Wood 2018:31) to the classic Philadelphia Negro in 1899 coauthored with Isabel Eaton, which extended the Hull House Papers model using color-coded maps, documenting the ‘urbanization of a rural peasantry’ through door-to-door interviews and surveys of 5,000 residents and their employment, family structure, health, religion and housing density (Deegan 1988:308). Following this, Du Bois devoted close to 13  years to the development of the Atlanta Sociological Laboratory (1898–1911), years that represented honing and crafting methodologies including method triangulation (Wright 2016b). Du Bois then co-founded the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) in 1909, including Addams and Kelley from the Hull House project, along with many other public intellectuals of the time. Perhaps one of the greatest examples of public sociology was the creation of The Crisis in 1910, a publication of the NAACP, in which Du Bois edited and published scholarly research – translational research – to lay audiences aimed at ‘building and promoting race, feminist, and class-consciousness’ (Morris 2015:136). As Morris argues, ‘His pioneering public sociology demonstrated that the discipline could combine science and activism to engender change. In doing so, Du Bois enhanced sociological scholarship, demonstrating that sociology was capable of diffusing its important message to the world outside academia’ (136). Du Bois’ work would span the next several decades. He laid the groundwork for a public sociology that unfortunately by and large was overlooked by the academy.

New deal sociology 1930s–1940s, Southern regionalists Certainly not marginalized like the early American public sociologists of Addams and Du Bois, a group of scholars in the South emerged in the 1930s and ’40s, focusing on the US South. During the 1930s and 1940s, the Southern Regionalists, were a group of sociologists led by Howard Odum and Rupert Vance, including Margaret Hagood, Guion Griffis Johnson, Guy Johnson and Harriet Herring. The Institute for Research in Social Science out of the Sociology Department at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill had a primary goal: the scientific study of the South so that people in the region could begin tackling their problems in significant ways (Hossfeld 2014). Odum, the 1929 president of the American Sociological Association, convened the cadre of scholars, white men and women of the South, creating a research agenda focused on southern poverty, racial inequality and, in Margaret Hagood’s work, the role of patriarchy in perpetuating rural white poverty. The institute trained young white scholars to examine social issues that Addams and DuBois had been examining 30 years prior. The institute had resources, graduate students and foundation support. It was an impressive empire-building undertaking and contrasted dramatically with the Hull House and Atlanta Laboratory operations that lacked the financial backing Odum wielded. Nevertheless, it did yield important results, and a type of public sociology that influenced policy through empirical 5

Leslie Hossfeld

research. Odum and Vance were tightly connected to Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal administration, providing sociological insight and research to inform policy. The goal of the institute was scientific: ‘to develop a theoretical framework for analyzing the South’s major problems, and with it to encourage a “reintegration” into the nation’s political and economic mainstream’ (O’Connor 69), and to shape New Deal policies on poverty. These early examples of public sociology, Addams, Du Bois and the Southern Regionalists, have gone largely untold and by and large are not part of the training of American sociologists, though they should be. They are examples of research empires, laboratories and social scientific training that provide exemplars of how to go about doing this work, illuminating the promise of public sociology.

A call for public sociology In 1988, in his ASA presidential speech, Herbert Gans called for a ‘public sociology.’ In his speech he argues, [W]e must recruit and encourage talented sociologists who are able and eager to report their work so that it is salient to both their colleagues and the educated lay public. Borrowing Russell Jacoby’s concept of public intellectuals (Jacoby 1987), they might be called public sociologists, and the public sociologist par excellence that comes at once to mind is David Riesman. Public sociologists are not popularizers; they are empirical researchers, analysts, or theorists like the rest of us, although often their work is particularly thoughtful, imaginative, or original in some respect. Public sociologists have three further distinctive traits. One is their ability to discuss even sociological concepts and theories in the English of the college-educated reader, probably because they enjoy writing as well as doing research and may even think of themselves as writers. Their second trait is the breadth of their sociological interests, which covers much of society even if their research is restricted to a few fields. That breadth also extends to their conception of sociology, which extends beyond research reporting to commentary and in many cases also to social criticism. To put it another way, their work is intellectual as well as scientific. (1989:7) In Gans’ speech, he calls on a public sociology – a type of sociology that moves beyond the academy, building on empirical research findings, and disseminating to publics – much like the work of Du Bois 70 years prior. Sociologists had been doing this work, and continue to do this work, yet Gans’ speech provides a nomenclature that would be picked up again by another ASA president, Michael Burawoy, in 2004. Some examples of public sociological work in the mid-1980s include the work of sociologists Jerome Scott and Walda Katz-Fishman, Project South, based in Atlanta, Georgia. Still going strong today, Project South applies sociological research to education and organizing projects around community-driven initiatives like community leadership training, poverty, racial justice and health care (see Project South https://projectsouth.org/). Also, the work of Francis Fox Piven, the 2006 ASA president whose long career as a public sociologist first began during the New Left movement of the 1960s. Described by Barbara Ehrenreich, ‘[S]he [Piven] is never content with research, publication, and teaching – always following through with activism and, when necessary, the creation of new organizations for social change’ (2006). In 1983 Piven co-founded SERVE (Service Employees Registration and Voter Education) with sociologist Richard Cloward. Their work to link voter registration with social services and the Department 6

Framing public sociology

of Motor Vehicles culminated in the National Voting Registration Act in 1993. Piven’s extraordinary career as a public intellectual, her work in the 1960s’ New Left social movement and as a leading voice on welfare reform constitute an exemplar of a public sociologist whose work covers decades of empirical investigating and dissemination of sociological research. Ben Agger’s 2000 book Public Sociology renewed the call of public sociology Gans made in 1988, providing a guidebook, in many respects, for students of sociology on how to ‘rethink the conventions’ of the discipline and to foster a public sociology, which acknowledges that it is a literary version, confesses its animating assumptions and investments, and addresses crucial public issues. My project is unashamedly normative: I contend that sociology should take the lead in building a democratic public sphere. (2) In the second edition of the book in 2007, Agger adds a concluding chapter entitled ‘Has Mainstream Sociology Gone Public’ offering a detailed critique of Burawoy’s call for public sociology. In this chapter, he argues that public sociology has become a ‘brand,’ and Agger questions whether the discipline has really changed at all with the ASA adoption of public sociology. As in the first edition, Agger asserts that sociology is a positivist discipline and will not ‘relinquish power to advocacy and activist sociologists’ (274). Agger continues, A positivist describes the world in order to freeze it, choking off history. . . . I simply oppose positivism as the monolithic and conservative posture that it is, burying the author underneath the gestures of method and making the merger of theory and practice impossible. (274) Agger feared that the ‘brand “public sociology” has been so successful because it changes very little’ and points to emancipatory sociology in the work of the New Left in the 1960s as a model for public sociology in the 21st century. He ends his book with the call to action, ‘Young people can use sociology as a vehicle only if sociologists rethink their relationship to politics and the public sphere, using method where necessary but not allowing themselves to be used by it’ (284). In Agger’s final thoughts, in his book, he ponders whether American sociology will allow a public sociology – an emancipatory sociology like the New Left model, exemplified for Agger by Piven and ASA 2000 president Joe Feagin – ‘or whether the power brokers who dominate the official discipline and control the leading departments will keep methods in the saddle’ (285). The call for public sociology that still resonates today is the call ASA president Michael Burawoy made in his 2004 presidential address, ‘For Public Sociology’ (2005). What was different with the Burawoy presidency, and what differs from others before him, was that a structure began to take form within the American Sociological Association. An ASA Taskforce on Institutionalizing Public Sociologies was formed (ASA Taskforce 2005); a section of the organization devoted to public sociology developed; public sociology awards were created; universities across the United States and abroad created curricula and degree programs dedicated to public sociology; Context, an ASA journal devoted to public sociology, was launched and tenure and promotion guidelines around public sociology were established. For this reason, and for whatever timing it was that made ‘public sociology’ stick, Burawoy’s model and operationalization of public sociology (sociologies) is the one most frequently quoted, and most referenced, and one that framed a way of doing sociology that had traction. And remains so. Burawoy gave his 7

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presidential speech, ‘For Public Sociology,’ clearly touching on something that reverberated and captured a voice among sociologists that had long felt stifled. A voice for public sociology. And so, while public sociology resonates not only in American sociology, it is used and framed by scholars across the globe. The 2004 tag line from the Burawoy presidency certainly is being used today. And while it has been argued and debated by many that what is understood as public sociology in the United States has been practiced and embraced as sociology du jure, for many international scholars and departments outside the United States, the Burawoy framing and operationalization of public sociology seems to have the greatest prevalence. Indeed, almost all authors in this volume use Burawoy’s model as a framework for the public sociology research and praxis they engage in, as you will see in the chapters to follow.

Handbook organization This collection represents scholars conducting and documenting public sociology from their unique vantage points. These scholars share their work in and with communities and the challenges in doing public sociology in their respective countries. The goal of this volume is to provide a guide and resource for those who are already doing public sociology, as well as for new scholars seeking to immerse themselves in more applied and engaged scholarship. Following this introduction, there are seven additional sections that focus on theoretical frames, methodological choices in public sociology, case studies in public sociology, students as knowledge producers, community as knowledge producers and sharing knowledge toward public impact.

References Agger, Ben. 2007. Public Sociology: From Social Facts to Literary Acts. Lanham: Rowman and Littlefield. American Sociological Association Taskforce on Institutionalizing Public Sociology. 2005. “Public Sociology and the Roots of American Sociology: Establishing Our Roots of American Sociology: ReEstablishing Our Connections to the Public.” Retrieved August  10, 2020 (www.asanet.org/sites/ default/files/savvy/images/asa/docs/pdf/TF%20on%20PS%20Rpt%20(54448).pdf). Booth, Charles. 1891. Labour and Life of the People of London. London: Williams and Norgate. Burawoy, M. 2005. “For Public Sociology.” American Sociological Review 70:4–28. Deegan, Mary Jo. 1988. “W.E.B. Du Bois and the Women of Hull-House, 1895–1899.” The American Sociologist 19(4):301–311. Ehrenreich, B. 2006. “2008 President Is a Defender of the ‘Poorest of the Poor’.” Footnotes 34(8):1–16. Gans, Herbert. 1989. “Sociology in America: The Discipline and the Public.” American Sociological Review 54(1):1–16. Hossfeld, Leslie 2014. “For Southern Sociology.” Presidential address given at the 77th Annual Meeting of the Southern Sociological Society, Charlotte, NC, April 3. Jacoby, Russell. 1987. The Last Intellectuals. New York, NY: Basic Books. Jakubek, Joseph and Spencer Wood. 2018. “Emancipatory Empiricism: The Rural Sociology of W.E.B. Du Bois.” Sociology of Race and Ethnicity 4(1):14–34. Morris, A. 2015. The Scholar Denied: W.E.B. DuBois and the Birth of Modern Sociology. Oakland, CA: University of California Press. O’Conner, A. 2001. Poverty Knowledge: Social Science, Social Policy, and the Poor in Twentieth Century U.S. History. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Wright II, Earl. 2016a. The First American School of Sociology. London: Routledge. Wright II, Earl. 2016b. “W. E. B. Du Bois and the Atlanta Sociological Laboratory.” Retrieved August 5, 2020 (http://berkeleyjournal.org/2016/02/w-e-b-du-bois-and-the-atlanta-sociological-laboratory/).

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Section II

Theoretical frames

This Handbook begins with four chapters on theoretical frameworks for public sociology. These theoretical frames are first examined by two intellectual leaders of public sociology in the United States, Michael Burawoy and Joe R. Feagin. Both have dedicated much of their careers to establishing a public sociology in academia, each in different ways: Burawoy from the perspective of public sociology as an independent process, within an analytical scheme, accompanied by critical sociology, professional sociology and policy sociology; Feagin from the perspective of critical public sociology, a liberation sociology that combines study and practice in order to increase social justice. These different lenses are crucial to understanding public sociology as both an extension of academic discourse and a practice that affects individual life outcomes. From here, the theoretical section shifts from a US orientation to a global one. Aaron Ellor identifies global versions of public sociology from the 20th century to the present. This includes examples of public sociology truly inspiring administrative and bureaucratic changes in Israeli military, policy and more. Youyenn Teo discusses how public sociology can affect the discipline of sociology using experiences of sociology in Singapore as examples.

2 Going public with Polanyi in the era of Trump* Michael Burawoy

What are the implications of Karl Polanyi’s The Great Transformation (1944) for public sociology in the era of Trump? This question calls for defining the era of Trump, the meaning of public sociology and how The Great Transformation can connect the two.

Traditional public sociology in the era of Trump What should we mean by the ‘Era of Trump’? One might think of the era of Trump as the era created by Trump and his endeavor to ‘Make America Great Again’ and put ‘America First.’ To be sure, as a white supremacist in the White House, he may have galvanized white nationalist movements. But such movements have always existed, although not necessarily encouraged by the highest levels of power. Still, President Obama, as an African American in the White House, did as much to stimulate collective racism, if unintentionally. Trump’s attempt to subvert the rule of law, his pretensions to dictatorship and his isolationist foreign policies may have created a certain political turbulence, but so far, he has been unsuccessful in shaping the world according to his own image. Indeed, he has galvanized opposition into defining and defending liberal democracy and the rule of law. Trump is not as unique as he thinks; he’s just head of an imperial power that strides the world like a colossus. He is a member of an increasing band of right-wing nationalist leaders: Putin in Russia, Orban in Hungary, Kaczynski in Poland, Bolsonaro in Brazil, Duterte in the Philippines, Erdogan in Turkey, Sisi in Egypt, Xi in China, Netanyahu in Israel, Modi in India, Johnson in Britain and the list goes on. While some have been around for a decade or more, others are new. These regimes have their national specificities, varying in their authoritarian propensities from outright dictatorship to illiberal democracy to discursive manipulation. They may control the media – visual, print and digital – and limit freedom of expression that can interfere with the autonomy of the university but also deepen self-censorship. In many countries this has grave implications for the very possibility of public sociology. As the Russian sociologist Elena Zdravomyslova once said of her own country: public sociology is the public defense of professional sociology. Another feature of the Trump era is the political use of social media. President Trump has turned his twitter feed – with its 63 million followers behind former President Obama’s 11

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108 million followers – into rule by fiat through spurious claims and abrupt reversals that largely serve to stoke support and provoke opposition – that is, polarize politics. More broadly, we can say that social media does affect public sociology, but not quite as one might expect. As more sociologists use social media in disseminating their research, Kieran Healy (2017) notes that sociologists are increasingly writing in public, but, he asks, who is listening? There may be more intense communication among sociologists themselves, but this is not necessarily transmitted beyond the discipline. Social media tends to consolidate fragmented publics of like-minded believers, which is a barrier to transmitting research beyond a narrow band of converts. Sociologists deceive themselves in thinking that digital media give them access to publics. They, therefore, don’t develop the art of public dissemination painstakingly cultivated by Herbert Gans, Bob Blauner, Daniel Bell, David Riesman, Robert Bellah, Matthew Desmond, Erving and Alice Goffman, Arlie Hochschild and many others who had to work with the printed page.1 Just looking at keyword searches in the New York Times, Healy shows the marginality of sociology’s presence, less than the competing disciplines of psychology and political science and, of course, much less than economics. In a recent article, Hallet, Stapleton, and Sauder (2019) trace references to seven social science ideas over the last 30 years in 12 major US newspapers. For all the fascinating variation they analyze, the most significant finding is the miniscule media presence, both of social science in general and of sociology in particular. While the public face of US sociology, Contexts Magazine, may enable us to learn what fellow sociologists are up to, is it spreading the word beyond academia? Even when we think we are doing public sociology, are we but talking to ourselves in public? We need to make sure we are actually talking to publics beyond the academy. So far I’ve only considered one type of public sociology, mediated public sociology, or what I call traditional public sociology that is registered through the media, digital or print. In this paper, I will turn to a different form of public sociology, organic public sociology, OPS for short, in which publics and sociologists face each other in an unmediated way. Here we definitely reach a public, one that is thick rather than thin, active rather than passive, narrow rather than broad, homogeneous rather than heterogeneous, often oppositional rather than mainstream. Understanding the potential of OPS requires specifying the contemporary political and social context within which we engage publics and their discontents. Enter Polanyi’s The Great Transformation.

Commodification and the counter-movement Why is The Great Transformation, published in 1944, useful in thinking through the potential of OPS? First, it offers a way to connect the lived experience, OPS engages, to, on the one side, its source in national and global political economy and, on the other side, to the social movements it generates. Second, Polanyi is concerned with the political consequences of market fundamentalism. He argues that unregulated markets tend to destroy society, which reacts politically in self-defense, erecting regimes of regulation: from social democracy and the New Deal to Stalinism and Fascism. In other words, he prefigures responses to marketization from both the Right and the Left. While The Great Transformation may be a canonical work with deep resonances to the present world conjuncture, resonance is not enough. The Great Transformation requires reconstruction. Polanyi thought that humanity would never again experiment with an intervention so dangerous as market utopianism. Well, he was wrong, largely because market fundamentalism is an effective treatment to save capitalism from itself, temporarily putting off recurrent crises of overproduction and profitability (Streeck 2014). For 50 years we have been witnessing a third wave of marketization, usually called neoliberalism, driven by such self-assured political leaders, 12

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Reagan, Thatcher and Pinochet; justified by economists in the Hayekian tradition; energized by the collapse of communism and accelerated by the economic recession of 2008. This thirdwave marketization shows no sign of abating even though it has generated diverse reactions from social movements and political regimes. Polanyi examines the first wave of marketization in 19th-century England as a process of commodification of factors of production  – labor, land and money. He calls them fictitious commodities – entities, he says, that were never ‘intended’ to be subject to unregulated market exchange. There is, indeed, a profound truth here that we too easily miss in a world where commodification is taken for granted. We have come to assume that labor power exists to be bought and sold. Indeed, we are desperate to sell our labor power even if it so often diminishes us. We too easily forget that labor is about human flourishing as well as human survival. We have come to assume land, too, is there to be bought and sold, even as its price soars, forcing so many to scramble for a plot to keep a roof over our heads. We forget that land was once the foundation of community. We take for granted that money is to be bought and loaned at an interest, and that credit becomes debt. Finance capital, the making of money from money on a gigantic scale, despite all the distortions it brings, is like the weather, part of our surroundings, most of its machinations entirely invisible to the population it subjugates. Governments, at least powerful ones, don’t worry about debt financing even though it destroys weaker countries. And, as individuals, we love our credit cards. We forget that money was simply supposed to facilitate exchange rather than a vehicle for helping to destroy labor and nature. The violation of the essential purpose of the fictitious commodity has the potential to arouse deep moral outrage if it has not been normalized. The outrage becomes palpable when we discover commodification extending to new entities, whether knowingly (body organs) or unknowingly (personal data). Indeed, we should extend the list of fictitious commodities to include knowledge that once was shared as a public good, but now is being extracted as ‘behavioral surplus,’ as Shoshanna Zuboff (2019) calls it, via our digital extensions and then converted into a private good sold to corporations, governments and parties that become a power over us. In addition to the essentialist conception, there are two other ways to approach fictitious commodities. The first is what I call a structural conception in which the pursuit of exchange value leads to the destruction of use value. The unregulated commodification of labor power means that the laborer is so abused and exploited that wages fall below the level of human replenishment. And as Silvia Federici (2004) has shown, the commodification of labor power also required the subjugation of women within the household, again limiting their use value. Nancy Fraser (2013) has elaborated this ‘social reproduction’ perspective by showing how the commodification of labor power leads women to enter the labor market, thereby creating a care deficit. The same may be said of land in which unregulated commodification confines use value to the point of waste, as in land erosion, desertification and toxification (Sassen 2014). Money, too, when subject to unregulated commodification loses its use value, as in the post-Soviet Russia when the value of the ruble became so erratic that barter relations were restored. In the same way, the commodification of knowledge means producing it for narrow interests, thereby losing its public character. Taken to its limit, commodification of fictitious commodities leads from limited use value to exhaustion and destruction  – that is, the commodity becomes waste, a process I  call excommodification. Labor power becomes redundant, waste, cast out into the reserve army of labor. Land becomes so despoiled as to be useless or dangerous, and in extreme cases, even money can become worthless. And when knowledge is so targeted to specific ends, it is no longer cumulative as in relatively autonomous research programs, no longer available in the public arena, no longer subject to conventional tests of truth. The university as an engine of knowledge 13

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production loses its value, degrees are increasingly worthless, signifying credentials without content. Ex-commodification can generate its own protests, but they are often difficult to organize because they are based on degradation and waste. It’s difficult but not impossible to mount protest against unemployment and land destruction. Protest has to take on novel forms. Thus, Alex Barnard (2016) describes the Freegan Movement in New York as one that publicly protested in rather dramatic fashion the systemic overproduction of food that every day loaded up restaurants, bakeries, supermarkets. In their public rituals, Freegans showed how it was possible to live off capitalism’s excrement, until access was forcibly prevented. In addition to the essentialist and structural concepts of the fictitious commodity, there is a third notion of fictitious commodity, what I call the genetic concept. Polanyi does not emphasize enough what is entailed in the production of the fictitious commodity. He writes of the English enclosure acts that denied peasants access to crucial means of subsistence, but he presents this in gradualist or evolutionary terms. One of the most significant developments in political economy during this period of third-wave marketization draws on Marx’s idea of primitive accumulation, but instead of confining it to the genesis of capitalism, it is viewed as a perpetual feature of capitalism. Rosa Luxemburg (1968 [1913]) was the first to make this central to her theory of capitalist accumulation, leading capitalism to search out geographically new markets that would eventually be exhausted. It turns out she had a limited view of what could be commodified. David Harvey (2003) elaborates the idea, calling it accumulation through dispossession, Klaus Dörre, Lessenich, and Rosa (2015) calls it landnahme, Saskia Sassen (2014) sees the same process as ‘expulsions.’ A more neutral concept is ‘disembedding,’ separating land, labor, money and knowledge from the social relations in which they are embedded so that they can be commodified. This is often a violent process that elicits strong protest, the prototype being peasant protest against land dispossession. But it doesn’t have to be violent; the appropriation of personal data through our enthusiastic participation in digital worlds is silent and invisible. If dispossession is so widespread and occurring in such different modalities, we need to develop what Mike Levien (2018) calls regimes of dispossession, the mode of dispossession.

Democracy and capitalism In his account of 19th-century Britain, Polanyi largely focuses on how the commodification of labor power gives rise to a succession of social movements that seek to repair a ravaged society – the factory movement that sought to regulate the length of the working day, the development of collective control of production through cooperatives, the building of self-organized communities such as Owenism, the advance of trade unions, the rise of the Chartist movement for political rights and eventually, the appearance of the Labor Party. We have proposed more elaborated and nuanced notions of the fictitious commodity – essentialist, structural and genetic – to account for these reactive social movements. When it comes to the 20th century, however, Polanyi offers a different response to what we might call second-wave marketization that takes off after World War I. He traces the development of state regulation of the market, but curiously, without much attention to popular movements (Dale and Desan 2019). The dialectic of commodification and counter-movement now turns into the dialectic of capitalism and democracy. There are two possible outcomes: either capitalism overrules democracy and we get some form of ‘fascism’ or the opposite, democracy overrules capitalism and we get some form of ‘socialism.’ What Polanyi failed to anticipate was a compromise equilibrium between capitalism and democracy that was sustained in advanced

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capitalist countries for those three glorious decades after World War Two. We have to understand first, why Polanyi didn’t anticipate this great reconciliation and, second, why it is now unraveling, so that his original diagnosis becomes ever more pertinent. The first step is to recognize the significance of Polanyi’s shift from exploitation to commodification, the shift from the sphere of production to the sphere of exchange, from the labor process to the market. Marx’s theory of class formation rested on the idea of the dependence of capital on labor even as and because it was exploited. Although the working class is subject to degradation, despotism and homogenization within the productive process, capital is still dependent upon it for the realization of profit. The working class has leverage with capital, so that the withdrawal of labor threatens the survival of capitalism. Even if individual capitalists don’t recognize that their future lies with compromise, the state enforced such compromises for the sake of the survival of the capitalist order. Indeed, an argument can be made that through its organization, the working class forced the state to regulate capitalism – in other words, the working class was not the ‘grave digger’ but the ‘savior’ of capitalism. Today, the working class has lost its leverage with capital. The shoe is now on the other foot, as labor becomes ever more dependent on capital, making concessions to capital, fearing redundancy. This is the meaning of Guy Standing’s (2011) shift from proletariat to precariat – labor power that had secured certain guarantees through de-commodification has been re-commodified and then ex-commodified. At least in the United States, with the exception of some public sector workers, such as teachers, labor is in retreat. As in other countries, strikes have all but disappeared and are too easily turned into lockouts. Where there have been labor struggles, it is the commodification of labor power that has driven them, as in local political struggles for a living wage. Contestation in the workplace has moved to wider struggles for de-commodification. The empowerment of capital and the disempowerment of labor, aided and abetted by an offensive from the state, have weakened liberal democracy as a vehicle of redistribution. The dominated classes had been drawn into democratic politics because of the possibility of advancing their material interests (Przeworski 1985). When that possibility evaporates and democracy is hijacked by capital to advance its short-term interests, then democracy becomes a vehicle of upward redistribution, what Streeck (2016) calls oligarchic redistribution. Struggles from below move, therefore, from parliamentary politics to the extra-parliamentary terrain, where positions condense around Left and Right populisms. Political parties are not irrelevant, but themselves become terrains of contest between a bureaucratic consensus politics-as-usual that had conventionally moved toward the center and a politics rooted in social movements that move in opposite directions. Chantal Mouffe (2018), Nancy Fraser (2019) and others recognize the importance of fighting Right Populism with Left Populism through the appeal to some abstract radical democracy, but they offer an incomplete analysis of the material forces driving these populisms – namely, the forces of commodification. Whereas the Marxian focus on exploitation led to an imagined working class unity, the Polanyian focus on commodification of nature, money, labor and knowledge leads to the fragmentation of struggles. Their unity lies in their origins in thirdwave marketization, but that is an elusive unity often invisible to participants. Once one leaves exploitation behind and the immediate threat becomes commodification – whether this be to do with labor, education, housing, the environment, health and so on – any idea of solidarity is difficult to sustain. The divisions consolidate themselves around two distinct politics, those who focus on the vertical direction against the class power behind re-commodification and those who suffer ex-commodification and focus resentment on the invasion ‘outsiders’ – the so-called great replacement.

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The challenge of third-wave marketization So far we have pointed to the centrality of fictitious commodities, especially labor power, in Polanyi’s account of local counter-movements to first-wave marketization in 19th-century England, movements that would finally lodge themselves in the state that set limits on capital. In the second wave, the commodification of money in the form of the gold standard led states to withdraw into autarchic regulation of commodification. It was now the tension between democracy and capitalism that shaped the counter-movement, understood as forms of state regulation that ranged from Stalinism and fascism to the New Deal. I have argued that third-wave marketization has led to the deepening and widening of commodification of money in the development of finance capital, of labor in the development of a precariat, of nature (land, air, water) in the impending ecological catastrophe and of knowledge in the form of surveillance capitalism. While there are reactions at the local and national level, in the final instance, third-wave capitalism will be contained only at the global level. Whether any such global counter-movement will be successful is still an open question. The autarchic responses of the Trump era – at best, second-wave responses to third-wave marketization – are not promising. Failure to move toward global solutions could lead to the sort of cumulative decay anticipated by Wolfgang Streeck (2016), although his deeply depressing scenario of anomie – the collapse of system integration and reliance on ad hoc micro-processes of social integration – reminds me more of the interregnum of the 1990s in Russia after the post-Soviet collapse or aspects of post-apartheid South Africa or Mona Abaza’s (forthcoming) descriptions of Cairo after the January Revolution. Such states of anomie can easily end up in the imposition of dictatorial rule as they have in Russia and Egypt. At the same time, in a Polanyian vein, if there were to be a successful global counter-movement, it is as likely to be reactionary as progressive, let alone democratic socialist. In this context, what should we do as sociologists? Undoubtedly, there is much to do within the academy, persuading one’s colleagues and one’s students of the dire circumstances to which we may be headed, questioning the misguided economics that sees the problem as the overregulation of the market rather than laissez-faire commodification. Alternatively, we can move out into society armed with a neo-Polanyian vision and engage specific publics that are wrestling with commodification, what I have called organic public sociology. I will consider two types: one aimed at Right Populism that I call an empathic public sociology, here represented by Arlie Hochshild’s engagement with Tea Party followers in Louisiana, and the other aimed at Left Populism that I call affirmative public sociology, here represented by Erik Wright’s engagement with activists stemming the tide of commodification.

Hochschild’s empathic public sociology Arlie Hochschild, author of such classic works on commodification as The Managed Heart, The Outsourced Self and The Commercialization of Intimate Life, spent five years in deep conversation with Tea Party followers in Louisiana. She began her research in 2011 at the end of the first Obama administration and ended her research in 2016 when Trump became the Republican candidate for president. Her book, Strangers in Their Own Land, published in 2016, just before the election of Trump, garnered a huge audience at home and abroad, making it a very successful traditional public sociology. Here I want to focus less on the reception of Strangers in Their Own Land and more on its making – an organic public sociology forged in collaboration with people of Right Wing persuasion, likely to have supported Trump who got 58% of the Louisiana vote in the 2016 election. 16

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Hochschild adopted what she called a ‘keyhole issue’ – one that would open up the political habitus of her interlocutors – namely, environmental degradation. The economy of Louisiana – one of the poorest states in the country – is dominated by the oil industry that has established a powerful position with local and state elites, thereby securing favorable taxation and limited regulation. In a classic case of resource dependency, Louisiana’s development is distorted by its dependence on the oil industry. You might even say that Louisiana is an internal colony within the United States, hostage to oil but also to the federal state that supplies over 40% of the state’s budget. The result is an environmental catastrophe, as oil companies go ahead with seemingly unrestricted and unregulated exploration. Hochschild’s account interrogates her subjects’ awareness and understanding of the very real devastation in their own region: petrochemical pollution of Lake Charles; pouring of toxic waste into the bayou that kills livelihoods based on fishing; the enormous BP spill into the Gulf or, more locally, Texas Brine’s drilling creating a sinkhole and polluting the atmosphere with methane, requiring the community to flee. For Hochschild (2016), the ‘great paradox’ is the community’s opposition to regulations that would limit destruction of the environment. For the Tea Party followers do not see the state as the solution but as the problem. More regulation, more intervention only hampers the economy and the well-being of the population. If only the state would get off the back of the oil companies, the environment would be better preserved. In Mouffe’s (2018) framing, this right populism is attached to the liberal side of liberal democracy  – the reduction of the state and expansion of freedom  – that is, individual and market freedom. The other side of what Hochschild calls their ‘deep story’ is the critique of the democratic side of liberal democracy, the state’s redistributive role. In their view, the state is facilitating outsiders – racial minorities, immigrants, gays – cutting ahead of them in line. They are being pushed back to make way for the undeserving; they are subject to the ‘great replacement.’ It’s a deep story because, like Evans Pritchard’s (1976 [1937]) account of witchcraft among the Azande, every effort to dislodge their beliefs not only fails to sow doubt but actually confirms their beliefs. The deep story becomes an ideological lens, a common sense through which they see the world. Hochschild tirelessly tries to pierce the armor of her interlocutors and, in so doing, brings into relief the architecture of their belief system that ties together individual freedom, religious conviction and sense of injury. At times, she is able to spark dissent among her companions when the culpability of the oil industry stares them in the face, when destruction is in their backyard. But still they doubt the state will ever come to their rescue or arrive only when it is too late. Searching for local allies, Hochschild discovers General Russell Honore of Katrina fame, an avid environmentalist, but he, too, is frustrated that his Green Army can make only very limited inroads into the anti-environmentalism of local communities. Hochschild searches for crossover issues where differences between her own liberalism and Right Wing populism might be transcended, when both might converge on shared interpretations of the destructiveness that follows processes of commodification and ex-commodification. She chose as her keyhole issue the commodification of land and water with its obvious destructive consequences for local communities, thinking there must be a road to a common perspective. By immersing herself in Louisiana and scaling the empathy wall, as she calls it, she discovers the resilience of the ‘deep story’ that defines their interpretive universe. She shows why Trump’s message of white nationalism, anti-immigrant hostility, xenophobia and the nostalgia of ‘Making America Great Again’ is deeply resonant with the feelings of exclusion and suffering that arises from third-wave marketization. It is not hopeless. After all, Hochschild does discover a few cracks in the ‘deep story,’ and by her example, we see the dividends of an empathic organic public sociology, wading into worlds 17

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so different from her own. It gave rise to a best-selling book, a traditional public sociology that dissolves stereotypes of other Americans and how they experience third-wave marketization. In this research program, she is accompanied by a number of other social scientists, including Robert Wuthnow (2018), Katherine Cramer (2016) and Theda Skocpol and Vanessa Williamson (2012), exploring the lived experience of exclusion and thus, the possibility of crossover issues.

Erik Wright’s affirmative public sociology Not surprisingly, Strangers in Their Own Land has only a limited critique of the standpoint of Right Wing populism and its followers. Given that her project is ongoing and she continues to return to her communities in Louisiana, she has to present herself as an empathic interpreter. An alternative approach is to start out from a perspective critical of capitalism and its third-wave incarnation. This is where I place Erik Wright’s project on real utopias. You might not think of Erik Wright as an organic public sociologist, but he was, especially in the last two decades of his life. What is a real utopia? Perhaps it is better to start by saying what it is not. It is not a blueprint that emerges from the head of a dreamer – to be realized in some unknown future in some unknown place by some unknown people. To the contrary, Wright traveled the world as an archaeologist unearthing institutions, organizations and movements that might pose some potential challenge to capitalism. He engaged with their practitioners to understand how they work, what their dynamics are, their internal contradictions, their conditions of existence and their potential dissemination. He collaborated with the practitioners to produce an analytical paper, organizing conferences at his home, University of Wisconsin, with commentators from different countries, both academics and non-academics. The projects included participatory budgeting; cooperatives; public banks; democratization of cooperation; Wikipedia and, perhaps the most fundamental of all, the universal basic income grant. In Envisioning Real Utopias (2010), he rooted real utopias in the collective selforganization of civil society – social empowerment against the state or the economy. In How to Be an Anticapitalist in the Twenty-First Century (2019), he relates real utopias to a set of values that challenge capitalism: equity/fairness, democracy/freedom and community/solidarity. Here I want to situate them in relation to the counter-movement to third-wave marketization and the commodification of labor, nature, money and knowledge. Thus, we might say the universal basic income grant contests the commodification of labor power; public banks and participatory budgeting contest the commodification of money; peer-to-peer collaboration, Wikipedia and open access software contest the commodification of knowledge; agricultural cooperatives contest the commodification of land. For Wright, the goal of real utopias is to challenge capitalism. In Envisioning Real Utopias, he thinks of these in terms of three strategies of transformation: ruptural, interstitial and symbiotic. He is skeptical of ruptural transformation that involves ‘smashing’ the old order – how can one build anything from the ruins of the old? The second, interstitial transformation, refers to institutions that emerge in spaces created within capitalism, while symbiotic transformation involves more collaborative arrangements based on class compromise in which both capital and labor benefit  – for example, the gradual encroachment of capital’s monopoly control over investment through the creation of wage earner funds. In How to Be an Anticapitalist in the TwentyFirst Century, he examines four strategies. Two strategies from above – ‘dismantling’ capitalism (installing elements of democratic socialism from above) and ‘taming’ capitalism (neutralizing

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its harms) – are complemented by two strategies from below: ‘resisting’ capitalism and ‘escaping’ capitalism. The articulation of these four strategies brings about the ‘eroding’ of capitalism. Wright offers activists, trying to advance specific real utopias, a broad framework, an ideology if you wish, with which to connect their own day-to-day struggles to those of others and to the broader transformation of capitalism. He presents the transformation of what he calls the capitalist ecosystem as a gradual process of the expansion and re-articulation of real utopias, slowly moving toward a democratic socialism. Rather than framing real utopias in terms of the appealing but abstract idea of anti-capitalism, I am proposing, however, that they be framed by the concrete capitalist experience of commodification of fictitious commodities, proposing strategies of de-commodification that oppose re-commodification and ex-commodification. In this broad vision, we have the source of discontent and potential solutions, but who will be the agents of transformation? Wright (2019) abandons the idea of a transformation driven by the working class that was so key to his early work. It is too weak, too divided and too defensive to be working toward a notion of democratic socialism, drawing in allied classes. Rather than coming down on a particular agent or combination of agents, Wright analyzes the conditions for such struggle – the importance of identities that can forge solidarities, interests that lead to realistic objectives and values that can create political unity across diverse identities and interests. Instead of a particular agent of transformation, he offers a vision, which will create its own agents of realization – an ideology in the Gramscian (1971:126) sense, ‘expressed neither in the form of a cold utopia nor as learned theorizing, but rather by a creation of concrete phantasy which acts on a dispersed and shattered people to arouse and organize its collective will.’ This is what Wright’s program offers disparate social movements fighting against commodification: a unifying vision. There is a dilemma, however: is the elaboration of real utopias a mechanism for transforming capitalism or saving capitalism? We know that time and again capitalism is saved by oppositional forces. Working class struggles, for example, not only advanced the material conditions of the working class, not only made organs of the working class recognize and fight for gains within capitalism, encouraging reformism, but also, by absorbing more of the surplus, they saved capitalism from its self-generated crises of overproduction and also propelled capitalists to invent new labor-saving technologies. Closer to home, leaders in Silicon Valley, including Mark Zuckerberg and Elon Musk, have endorsed the idea of universal basic income (UBI). Indeed, it has been the central plank of the presidential candidate and entrepreneur, Andrew Yang. But note: he wants to give every adult $1,000 a month; because that is not a subsistence income, workers cannot exit the labor market, and so, it effectively becomes a cheap labor policy. Workers remain dependent on employment as wage laborers – making it a very convenient policy for capital. As a real utopia, UBI should assure every adult, not $1,000 a month but $3,000 a month, or access to the basic services and material provisions that would enable people to live independently of wage labor. Capitalists will then have to develop new strategies of organizing consent. As Marx declared, cooperatives by themselves, far from being a threat to capitalism, actually support capitalism, provide a safety valve for disgruntled workers and encourage selfexploitation. On the other hand, if cooperatives are part of a social movement to transcend capitalism, then they can indeed pose a serious challenge to private ownership and alienated labor. We come back to the importance of an ideology threading together real utopias around the challenges of commodification. Supplying such an ideology was Wright’s role as an affirmative organic public sociologist.

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Conclusion We live in the era of third-wave marketization in which exploitation continues, even deepens, but no longer shapes struggles. Indeed, in the eyes of many, it has become a privilege to be stably exploited. Workers in the gig economy, for example, demand to be wage laborers rather than independent contractors. Feeding into the declining strength of labor, liberal democracy is hijacked by capital, becoming a vehicle for enriching the already wealthy. Democracy, thereby, loses what legitimacy it had, and popular classes turn to extra-parliamentary movements, polarizing between Left Wing and Right Wing responses to the commodification of labor, nature, money and knowledge – responses to dispossession necessary to produce commodities or expulsions that result from commodification. Movements against dispossession struggle for de-commodification, while movements against ex-commodification, paradoxically, demand a return to commodification – that is, re-commodification. In this context, I suggest public sociology works with a theory of commodification based on the reconstruction of Karl Polanyi’s The Great Transformation. Engaging Right Wing Movements that focus on exclusion, empathic organic public sociology wrestles with pro-market and antistate dispositions. Engaging Left Wing Movements opposed to commodification, organic public sociology develops real utopias within a broader anti-capitalist vision. Given the common source of their discontent, there is a certain fluidity, movement, between populisms – both from Left to Right and Right to Left. Indeed, it might be said that the failure of the anti-capitalist movements of 2011 to register themselves in substantial gains made their supporters and sympathizers open to capture from the Right, just as renewed socialist projects today might capture those disillusioned with the politics of authoritarianism. Even if its audience is limited, traditional public sociology remains important in the era of Trump, correcting distortions in a world of fake news, providing broader and deeper portraits of the devastation of everyday life. But that traditional public sociology develops a compelling alternative politics if and only if it is also rooted in the lived experience of concrete communities. Such organic connections also infuse sociology with new missions, keeping its research programs in touch with reality and upholding a flourishing discipline.

Notes * Presentation to the Conference: “The Great Transformation at 75,” Bennington College, October 26, 2019. 1 Social media has, of course, made it possible for companies, such as Google or Facebook, to assemble and analyze massive amounts of personal data in order to target specific groups with specific messages with the aim of changing behavior – whether to buy a particular good or vote for a particular party. This is a policy science in which information is deployed on behalf of a client – the antithesis of a public science that is open and dialogic without instrumental goals.

References Abaza, Mona. Forthcoming. Cairo Collages. Manchester: Manchester University Press. Barnard, Alex. 2016. Freegans: Diving into the Food Waste of America. Minneapolis: Minnesota Press. Cramer, Katherine. 2016. The Politics of Resentment: Rural Consciousness in Wisconsin and the Rise of Scott Walker. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Dale, Gareth and Mathieu Desan. 2019. “Fascism.” Pp.  151–170 in Karl Polanyi’s Political and Economic Thought, edited by Gareth Dale, Christopher Holmes, and Maria Markantonatou. Newcastle: Agenda Publishers.

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Dörre, Klaus, Stephan Lessenich, and Hartmut Rosa. 2015. Sociology, Capitalism, Critique. London and New York: Verso. Evans-Pritchard, E.E. 1976 [1937]. Witchcraft, Oracles and Magic Among the Azande. New York: Oxford University Press. Federici, Silvia. 2004. Caliban and the Witch: Women, the Body and Primitive Accumulation. New York: Autonomedia. Fraser, Nancy. 2013. “A Triple Movement? Parsing the Politics of Crisis After Polanyi.” New Left Review 81:119–132. Fraser, Nancy. 2019. The Old Is Dying and the Old Cannot Be Born. London and New York: Verso. Gramsci, Antonio. 1971. Selections from Prison Notebooks. New York: International Publishers. Hallet, Timothy, Orla Stapleton, and Michael Sauder. 2019. “Public Ideas: Their Varieties and Careers.” American Sociological Review 84(3):545–576. Harvey, David. 2003. The New Imperialism. New York: Oxford University Press. Healy, Kieran. 2017. “Public Sociology in the Age of Social Media.” Reflections 15(3):771–780. Hochschild, Arlie. 2016. Strangers in Their Own Land. New York and London: The New Press. Levien, Michael. 2018. Dispossession without Development. New York: Oxford University Press. Luxemburg, Rosa. 1968 [1913]. The Accumulation of Capital. New York: Monthly Review Press. Mouffe, Chantal. 2018. For a Left Populism. New York and London: Verso. Polanyi, Karl. 1944. The Great Transformation: The Political and Economic Origins of Our Time. Boston: Beacon Press. Przeworski, Adam. 1985. Capitalism and Social Democracy. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press. Sassen, Saskia. 2014. Expulsions: Brutality and Complexity in the Global Economy. Cambridge, MA and London: Harvard University Press. Skocpol, Theda and Vanessa Williamson. 2012. The Tea Party and the Remaking of the Republican Conservatism. New York: Oxford University Press. Standing, Guy. 2011. The Precariat: The New Dangerous Class. London: Bloomsbury Academic. Streeck, Wolfgang. 2014. Buying Time: The Delayed Crisis of Democratic Capitalism. New York and London: Verso. Streeck, Wolfgang. 2016. How will Capitalism End? New York and London: Verso. Wright, Erik Olin. 2010. Envisioning Real Utopias. London and New York: Verso. Wright, Erik Olin. 2019. How to Be Anti-Capitalist in the Twenty-First Century. London and New York: Verso. Wuthnow. Robert. 2018. The Left Behind: Decline and Rage in Rural America. Princeton, NJ and Oxford: Princeton University Press. Zuboff, Shoshana. 2019. The Age of Surveillance Capitalism. New York: Public Affairs.

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3 Toward a critical public sociology* Joe R. Feagin

Introduction In the mid-19th century, a founder of emancipatory social science, Karl Marx (1845 [1962]:405), insisted that social ‘philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways; the point, however, is to change it.’ At least since that era not only critical philosophers but also critical social scientists have been concerned about changing and liberating societies away from major types of social oppression. They have operated from this premise and adopted various versions of what we can term ‘critical public sociology’ (also, ‘liberation sociology’). The main goal of critical public sociology is not only to research a society like the United States carefully and critically, but ultimately to change it in the direction of greater social justice, expanded human rights and participatory democracy. As I see it, this critical public sociology can usefully adopt what Gideon Sjoberg and his colleagues (Sjoberg and Cain 1971) have called the ‘countersystem’ perspective. Countersystem analysts consciously try to step outside the conceptual boundaries of conventional social science approaches to better assess and to critically understand a troubled society like the United States. This countersystem perspective varies in degree of societal radicalism but always features an emphasis on empathetic compassion for human suffering and a strong commitment to reducing or ending oppressive realities in existing societies. Note too that this countersystem approach typically accents human rights values beyond those of any particular society. By making central use of broader human rights values and standards, such as those strongly stated in the United Nations’ Universal Declaration of Human Rights, critical public sociologists emphasize a social science that keeps broader societal and international contexts constantly in mind when examining specific societal oppressions and their sociopolitical reduction or eradication (Feagin, Vera, and Ducey 2015).

Critical public sociology: a long European and US tradition European critical public sociologists Critical public sociology is not new. In reality, this type of sociology was recurring in the 19th-century development of the discipline of sociology. To a substantial degree, sociology 22

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began with a number of scholars, including scholar-activists, who frequently adopted a robust countersystem approach – a tradition whose participants have intentionally undertaken social research aimed at significantly reducing or eliminating societal injustices. They stepped outside mainstream social thought patterns to aggressively critique their societies. From the perspective of this research tradition, conventional social analysts all too often accepted the status quo as their analytical standard. For instance, a serious exploration of this 19th-century countersystem tradition should acknowledge the past and current influence of Karl Marx’s critical social science analysis of capitalism and its then conventional social science apologists, which included major ideas and evidence in regard to how these conventional thinkers defended class oppression. Unsurprisingly, like other countersystem analysts of that century, Marx also proposed an alternative social system. His countersystem analysis has, directly or indirectly, influenced a great many sociologists and other social scientists ever since. Other 19th-century European scholars provided a clear commitment to a critical public sociology. A strong case can be made that the English social scientist Harriet Martineau (1802–76) is the founder of empirical sociology in the West. So far as I can tell, she was the first scholar (and scholar-activist) both to use the term ‘sociology’ and to do systematic sociological research in the field (Hoecker-Drysdale 1992). She helped to invent a new sociological approach that brought empirical data to bear on questions of public policy and social theory. She wrote the first book ever on sociological research methods (Hill 1989), in which she argued – preceding the more famous male sociologist Émile Durkheim by half a century – that research on social life is centrally about studying social ‘things’ accurately and should involve research on ‘institutions and records, in which the action of a nation is embodied and perpetuated’ (Martineau 1838 [1989]:73). She was a contemporary of Auguste Comte and translated his major work on positive philosophy (he named ‘sociology’) into English. Comte actually considered her translated version of his famous book to be superior and recommended it to other scholars. Moreover, Martineau’s first major sociological analysis was based on brilliant observations from field studies across the United States – a multi-volume set titled Society in America (1837). In that work she developed sociological insights as penetrating and original as those of her much more celebrated male counterpart, Alexis de Tocqueville. Martineau was also a feminist theorist and antislavery activist and wrote extensively and sociologically on social issues for the general public. Arguably, she was also the first (critical) public sociologist, one frequently concerned with contemporary issues of social justice in Great Britain and the United States. In addition, later European sociologists, some considered classical ‘founding fathers’ of sociology, also were critical public sociologists. Their accents on public policy and social justice themes have frequently been forgotten. Consider Émile Durkheim, for instance. He has been portrayed in relatively conservative terms in social science textbooks and elsewhere, as being principally concerned with social order, deviance and societal stability. Yet he wrote eloquently about the impetus for social justice in societies like France. He argued that a forced division of labor, like that in a class-driven society, was indeed socially pathological and made the necessary organic solidarity of human relations impossible. Social inequality – created by such social mechanisms as variable and routine inheritances across unequal groups’ generations  – compromises organic solidarity among all groups. For Durkheim (1893 [1933]:384–388) organic solidarity and social justice require the elimination of societal inequalities not generated by variations in actual personal merit: If one class of society is obliged, in order to live, to take any price for its services, while another can abstain from such action thanks to the resources at its disposal which, however, 23

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are not necessarily due to any social superiority, the second has an unjust advantage over the first at law.  .  .  .  [The] task of the most advanced societies is, then, a work of justice. . . . [O]ur ideal is to make social relations always more equitable, so as to assure the free development of all our socially useful forces. . . . A successful movement to complex organic societies requires ever more social justice, . . . and we can be sure that this need will become ever more exacting if, as every fact presages, the conditions dominating social evolution remain the same. (387–388)

Early critical public sociologists in the United States Contemporary sociologists should also recognize the importance of, and draw more from, the ideas and research of early critical public sociologists in the United States, such as the long forgotten (until recently) Jane Addams and WEB Du Bois. These pioneering US sociologists offer solid role models in their dual commitments to social-scientific knowledge and to social justice, equality and democracy. They gave central attention to the theoretical, empirical and public policy dimensions of sociological research. The work of the early women and African American sociologists, as well as that of some progressive white male sociologists, points us toward a new conceptual paradigm for mainstream sociology. Such a paradigm would explicitly accent the centrality of human differences, group oppressions and social inequalities – as well as recurring movements for social justice – within societies like the United States. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, a number of white women, black men, and black women sociologists – as well as a few white male sociologists – did much innovative and critical public sociology. In this analytical process they also took strong informed positions in regard to ending the oppression of women, Americans of color, the poor and immigrants. Among the now forgotten black and white women and black male founding sociologists of the 19th century were Jane Addams, Florence Kelley, Ida B. Wells-Barnett, Charlotte Perkins Gilman and WEB Du Bois. All were practicing sociologists, and all developed important sociological ideas and countersystem research projects. Most were also early members of the new American Sociological Society (Deegan 1987). Consider Jane Addams, a female founder of US sociology and active practitioner of critical public sociology. Head resident of Chicago’s pioneering Hull House complex and often only celebrated as a community social worker, she was also an active sociologist and charter member of the American Sociological Society. She interacted professionally with other leading sociologists and other public intellectuals. During the 1890s and later, there was great intellectual ferment at Hull House. It was more than a community center serving the working class. Not only were union leaders, socialists and other social reformers welcomed there, but a few major male social theorists, such as John Dewey and George Herbert Mead, regularly interacted with the women sociologists there (Deegan 1988:5). Addams was one of the first US sociologists to deal conceptually and empirically with the problems of the burgeoning US cities, and she was advanced in her sociological analysis of social justice and democracy. She viewed democracy as entailing more than fairness and legal equality: We are brought to a conception of Democracy not merely as a sentiment which desires the well-being of all men, nor yet as a creed which believes in the essential dignity and equality of all men, but as that which affords a rule of living as well as a test of faith. (Addams 1902:6)

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In her view, ordinary Americans had to participate actively in major decisions affecting their lives for there to be real democracy. She grounded her analysis in a critical and investigative public sociology. Addams and the numerous other women (and a few men) sociologists working at Hull House not only accented a cooperative, democratic and social justice model of society but also used their countersystem research and analysis to ground their active efforts for tenement reform, child-labor legislation, public health programs, feminism and anti-war issues (Deegan 1988). They worked in immigrant and other poor urban communities and sought to build a grassroots base for social change. Moreover, working in collaboration, they did the first major (quantitative and qualitative) empirical field research in US sociology. Like Harriet Martineau earlier in the 19th century (see next), Addams and her colleagues implemented a sociological tradition that developed empirical data in order to better deal with issues of both progressive social theory and public policy. Their 1895 book, Hull-House Maps and Papers (Residents of Hull-House 1895 [1970]), reported on the sociodemographic mapping of Chicago’s urban areas well before that statistical mapping approach became important for the University of Chicago’s white male sociologists. Interestingly, these sociodemographic data were used to help local residents understand their community patterns, not just to provide data for publications in academic journals. Still, these women sociologists also did publish often in major social science journals. Indeed, one important indication of the disciplinary impact of these early women sociologists is that between 1895 and 1935 they published more than 50 articles in what was then the leading sociology journal, the American Journal of Sociology (Deegan 1988:47). Moreover, in 1896, the black critical sociologist WEB Du Bois began his career as a subordinate ‘assistant in sociology’ at the University of Pennsylvania. Du Bois was hired to do a study of black Philadelphians using the ‘best available methods of sociological research’ (Du Bois 1899 [1973]:2). His scholarly book, The Philadelphia Negro (1899 [1973]), was the first empirical US study of an urban (black) community to be reported in sociological depth and at book length. Therein, Du Bois not only thoroughly analyzed sociological data on patterns of life in the black community (including commonplace discrimination) but also assessed critically what he viewed as the immorality of white discrimination and the lack of public policy to deal with it. The emphasis in the book is on critical public sociology. Interestingly too, the last part of this pathbreaking book includes a study of domestic workers by Du Bois’ white colleague Isabel Eaton, a former Hull House public sociologist. The research collaboration of these early black and white sociologists is part of the now forgotten history of sociology, including its pioneering and critical public and countersystem orientation. Moreover, in spite of Du Bois’ stellar qualifications – major sociological research, a (then rare) Harvard PhD and consulting work with leading European social scientists (e.g., with Max Weber) – no white-run sociology department offered him a regular sociology position. Over time, Du Bois would make very important contributions to the critical and countersystem study of community, family, social problems and racial and class discrimination, as well as to pathbreaking sociohistorical study of slavery and Reconstruction. We should recognize too that in this period before and after the turn of the 20th century there were important black women sociologists, such as Ida B. Wells-Barnett and Anna Julia Cooper, whose work has been rediscovered relatively recently (Lemert and Bhan 1998; Lengermann and Niebrugge-Brantley 1998). Though neither was affiliated with academic sociology, both were active as critical public sociologists and countersystem theorists. For example, in their work in the late 1800s and early 1900s they were among the earliest social scientists to analyze concrete data on the conditions of African Americans and women in US society, including in terms of countersystem concepts like social ‘subordination’ and racial ‘repression’ (Cooper 1892; Wells-Barnett 1895).

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The shift from critical public sociology Clearly, these early scholars of color and white women scholars were quite concerned with doing a public sociology critical of existing systems of racial, class and gender oppression. We should note too that the writings of some early white male sociologists, including some committed to creating an academic discipline of sociology, reflected a dialectical tension between a commitment to remedy social injustice and the often expressed desire to be accepted as a legitimate academic discipline in the larger society. The lead article in the July 1895 issue of the American Journal of Sociology, written by Albion Small, a founder of the first graduate sociology department (University of Chicago), listed among the major interests of the new journal’s editors the analysis of ‘plans for social amelioration’ (Small 1895:14). A decade later, Small elaborated on these views in a paper at the American Sociological Society’s first meeting; there he argued vigorously that sociological research was not an end in itself but should serve to improve society (Friedrichs 1970:73). Small was not alone in this commitment. In the first two decades of US sociology, several leading white male sociologists advocated the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake and the assessment of that knowledge in relation to its current usefulness to US society. However, this soon changed. By the 1920s and the 1930s, most leading white male sociologists, usually ensconced in academic departments of sociology, were downplaying or ignoring the pioneering sociological work of the early public sociologists and their often critical countersystem approaches. For example, the dominant introductory textbook of the interwar decades, Park and Burgess’s (1921) lengthy Introduction to the Science of Sociology, mostly views sociology as an abstract and academic science. This influential textbook contains in its 1,040 pages only a few bibliographical references to the work of Du Bois, but no discussion of his pioneering and critical sociological work, and it includes just one terse sentence on, and two bibliographical references to, the extensive sociological work of Jane Addams. Park and other prominent white male sociologists were increasingly – and openly – opposed to activist sociology and were moving away from a concern with the more progressive policy applications of social research toward a more ‘detached’ sociology. Much of their work was also directly linked to the interests of certain corporate-capitalist elites, such as those represented by the Rockefeller and similar capitalistic family foundations. While they frequently researched urban ‘disorganization,’ often in qualitative field studies, they rarely analyzed deeply the harsher realities and determinants of that social oppression – especially of racial, class and gender oppression – in the development of such cities. Park and several of his colleagues played a major role in shifting the emphasis from a critical public sociology concerned with studying and eliminating serious societal problems to a more detached and academic sociology concerned with ‘natural’ social forces – without the humanitarian attitude or human rights interpretation of what Park sometimes called the ‘damned do-gooders’ (Lengermann and Niebrugge-Brantley 1998:15–18; Raushenbush 1979:96). Moreover, during the 1920s and 1930s, support for a detached and instrumental-positivist sociology increased at major US universities. This approach is ‘instrumental’ in that it limits social research mainly to those questions that certain research (especially ‘quantitative’) techniques will allow; it is ‘positivist’ in that it commits sociologists to ‘rigorous’ research approaches thought to be like those used in the physical sciences (Bryant 1985:133). A  pioneer in this approach was Franklin H. Giddings at Columbia University. In an early 1900s’ American Journal of Sociology discussion, Giddings (1909) argued, in strongly gendered language, that [w]e need men not afraid to work; who will get busy with the adding machine and the logarithms, and give us exact studies, such as we get in the psychological laboratories, not to 26

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speak of the biological and physical laboratories. Sociology can be made an exact, quantitative science, if we can get industrious men interested in it. (196, italics in original) By the 1920s, the influential William F. Ogburn, who had trained in sociology at Columbia University under Giddings and who was later hired at the University of Chicago, aggressively argued for such a detached and quantitative research approach. In his 1929 presidential address to the American Sociological Society, he called for a sociology emphasizing statistical methods and argued that sociologists should not be involved as critical public sociologists in improving society; instead, they should focus on efficiently discovering knowledge about society that (white male) elites could utilize. Whoever is in power, ‘some sterling executive,’ for example, might then apply this supposedly objective sociological research (Bannister 1992:188–190). Survey methods and associated statistical analyses were gradually becoming the emphasized and preferred research strategies in mainstream sociology. Over the next few decades, most mainstream sociologists, including those in leading departments, did not research major public events and policy issues, especially from a critical perspective. One study of 2,559 articles appearing in the American Sociological Review from 1936 to 1984 examined major social and political events for five periods within this time frame  – events such as the Great Depression and McCarthyism – and found that overall only 1 in 20 articles dealt with these major events examined for these periods (Wilner 1985). To take a major example, from the 1920s to the 1940s, remarkably few of the leading US sociologists researched, or spoke publicly and critically of, the growing fascist movements in the United States and Europe, some of which would soon help generate a catastrophic global war. Apparently, one reason for this neglect was the increasing emphasis on a value-free,’ ‘pure-science’ approach to mainstream sociology (Bannister 1992:175–189). Another was the expanding effort to secure corporate and government funding. Still, some important public sociologists and other public social scientists emerged in this World War II and postwar era. Writing in the early 1940s, in an appendix to his large-scale study, An American Dilemma, Gunnar Myrdal (1944 [1964]) specifically criticized the move by Park and Ogburn toward a more detached instrumental-positivistic sociology: The specific logical error is that of inferring from the facts that men can and should make no effort to change the ‘natural’ outcome of the specific forces observed. This is the old do-nothing (laissez-faire) bias of ‘realistic’ social science. (1052) Anticipating later sociological discussions and debates, Myrdal also developed an early critique of the new prevailing accent on ‘value-free’ social science: Scientific facts do not exist per se, waiting for scientists to discover them. A scientific fact is a construction abstracted out of a complex and interwoven reality by means of arbitrary definitions and classifications. The processes of selecting a problem and a basic hypothesis, of limiting the scope of study, and of defining and classifying data relevant to such a setting of the problem, involve a choice on the part of the investigator. (1944 [1964]:1057) As Myrdal viewed the matter, value neutrality in social science is impossible, for in making choices about how to assess and research society, there is always something of value at stake. 27

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While scientific conventions provide guidelines for choices, they necessarily involve significant value judgments, and no one can avoid value judgments simply by focusing on just social ‘facts.’ By the 1930s and 1940s, the critical countersystem approaches of some earlier sociologists were losing out to a more politically safe, academic, and distancing sociology. Sociology was increasingly becoming an established academic discipline whose college and university departments were dominated by white male sociologists and often linked to elite white male political-economic interests – including ties such as grants from relatively conservative corporate foundations and government agencies. As Deegan (1988) has noted regarding the dominant sociologists at the University of Chicago, These later men therefore condemned political action for sociologists, while the ideas of the elite, in fact, permeated their work. . . . Rather than condemn the exploitation and oppression of daily life, the later Chicago men described it. They justified it through their acceptance of it. (304) In the decades after World War II, many mainstream sociologists continued the move toward the pure-science ideal and away from the countersystem concerns for social justice and the making of a better society. There was a great expansion of federally funded research in the physical sciences, and leading sociologists worked aggressively to grasp a share of the new federal money, often by stressing an instrumental-positivist sociology that attempted to imitate those physical sciences. Thus, in the late 1950s some 15 prominent social scientists, including leading sociologists, signed onto a statement, ‘National Support for Behavioral Science,’ which pressed the US government for substantial funds for relatively uncritical, establishment social science: We assume the probability of a breakthrough in the control of the attitudes and beliefs of human beings. . . . This could be a weapon of great power in Communist hands, unless comparable advances in the West produce effective counter-measures. (Quoted in Friedrichs 1970:88) Contrary to their statements elsewhere about value neutrality in social science, the political orientation of these and many other influential (again, almost all white male) social scientists of the time made transparent the centrality of political-economic values that were then shaping most social science research. Here and elsewhere, they expressed anti-Communist views, in substantial part as a response to tremendous pressures coming from leading far-right, often white supremacist, organizations and congressional politicians of this postwar era. Also evident here and in many other published statements is the strong interest of leading social scientists in securing more government-funded research. Indeed, these social scientists were largely successful in their efforts, and large federal bureaucracies developed to fund sociology and other social science research under the auspices of the federal government and corporate foundations. Ever since, government and corporate underwriting of much mainstream sociological research has fed the emphasis on a quantitatively oriented or instrumental-positivist sociology and on sociologists as research entrepreneurs. Not surprisingly, social scientists who have secured major funding from federal government agencies and large corporate foundations have rarely done research that draws significantly on the countersystem tradition and is strongly critical of established institutions in the corporate or governmental realms. From the 1930s to the present, the accent on academic grant-getting, the emphasis on quantitatively oriented

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research and the movement away from the major social justice concerns of the earlier critical public sociologists have been associated sociological trends (Cancian 1995).

Recent approaches to critical public sociology A detached-science perspective has been very influential in many areas of sociology for some decades now, but not without strong countering perspectives over these same decades (e.g., Vaughan 1993). Since the late 1960s, there has been a periodic resurgence of interest in an countersystem and activist sociology, including an increased concern with research on and eradication of institutionalized racial, class and gender discrimination and other forms of social oppression (see Feagin et al. 2015). Significantly, this more recent history of sociology has been dialectical, with supporters of the detached-science, instrumental-positivistic perspective often being central, yet regularly challenged by those advocating a sociology committed to excellent sociological research and a social justice, countersystem perspective. For example, in his 1970 book, The Coming Crisis of Western Sociology, Alvin W. Gouldner was an early critic of the instrumental positivism that was increasing in sociological research, analysis and journals. Central to his arguments was an accent on the subjective character of doing sociological research and on the impact of social contexts, including ruling elite interests, on shaping such research. The idea of a ‘value free’ or ‘objective’ positivistic sociology was vigorously challenged (Gouldner 1970). Similarly, in his 1971 book Toward a Critical Sociology, Norman Birnbaum – who was US-educated but had an orientation to European theorizing – provided a solid conceptual analysis of the postwar trend in sociology away from studying social justice matters to an empirical sociology more attuned to government grants and corporate foundation interests (Birnbaum 1971). Then, a few decades later in 2000, sociologist Ben Agger, a pioneer in articulating explicitly the need for a critical ‘public sociology,’ published the first sociology book with that title. He developed a fleshed-out critique of instrumental-positivistic sociology. He argued that sociology had earlier been a field whose major journals were more readable, essay-ish and often centered on important societal debates (Agger 2000:203ff). However, they had, especially after the 1970s, increasingly become centered on relatively minor societal issues, on statistical methods and on mindless mimicking of natural science. In his studied view, while numerous contemporary critical sociologists still research major societal issues such as racism, classism or sexism, they are often forced to the margins of a field trying too hard to be a ‘hard science’ discipline. Significantly, as he argued, sociology cannot be like the natural sciences because what sociologists study – human beings – act to change the conditions being studied. In his view, the complexity of human action far exceeds the complexity of something like atomic physics. Moreover, the decline in sociology’s prestige and in undergraduates in the 1970s spurred the development of an accent on making leading journals like the American Sociological Review (ASR) even more like a hard science–looking journal and to make sociology a conventionally professional discipline. Even though the ASR often had numerous positivistic articles from the 1930s, the writing there was essayistic, dialogical and readable until the 1960s. And it was not statistical methods driven until the 1960s. The accent was on arguments, and methods were secondary. Since the 1970s, however, positivistic methods have become much more central (Agger 1989, 2000). Soon after Agger’s book was published, Hernán Vera and I published a 2001 book developing the concept of ‘liberation sociology,’ our term for critical public sociology that adopts a countersystem perspective and seeks to change societies in a progressive and democratic direction. I will return later to a more detailed view of this critical public sociology, but first I will note a few other recent sociological calls for various types of public sociology.

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Michael Burawoy’s presidential address on public sociology: a critique Since 2000 several leading sociologists have pressed for more sociologists to do research and publications that have greater public and government impacts. In 2002, former American Sociological Association president Herbert Gans argued for more of a public-oriented and public-appealing sociology in the ASA’s main newsletter (Gans 2002). Much more influential was the address given two years later in 2004 by ASA president, Michael Burawoy (2005), who examined four major sociologies, which in his view are part of a ‘sociological division of labor’: professional sociology, policy sociology, public sociology and critical sociology. In this presidential address, he defines policy sociology as sociological research done for specific clients such as a government agency. Public sociology is defined as research where sociological researchers are in dialogue about their research with some ‘public’ outside academia. Professional sociology is rather specifically academic, involving ‘true and tested methods, accumulated bodies of knowledge, orienting questions, and conceptual frameworks’ of academic sociology. Burawoy views this accumulated knowledge and associated frameworks as the basis for doing policy and public sociology. For him ‘critical sociology’ is mainly a type of sociology that criticizes particular research programs of professional sociologists, not one that is critical of oppressive institutions in society (Burawoy 2005). To his credit, Burawoy here addressed an important question about the types of sociology contemporary sociologists engage in. In his studied view, sociologists have a particular obligation to relate to and defend the interests of community organizations and workers’ unions rather than just those of corporations and the nation state. In addition, he recognizes, albeit too briefly, that sociology has sometimes been shaped by these corporate and government interests and that many of its practitioners have been critically aware of the ‘segregations, dominations, and exploitations’ of society (Burawoy 2005:24; I  draw in this section on Feagin and Vera 2008). Yet there are a number of significant problems with Burawoy’s too-optimistic overview of sociology. As Hernán Vera and I underscored in the second edition of Liberation Sociology (2008), Burawoy does not address the often negative and limiting character of much instrumentalpositivistic (‘true and tested’) methods of much professional sociology. Uncritical acceptance of instrumental positivism perpetuates the unwarranted power of such professional sociologists in mainstream journals, research funding and graduate departments. In this connection, Burawoy does not provide a necessary critique of the linkage of much professional sociological research to government and foundation funding  – that is, to the frequently oppressive or status-quo goals of corporate America and numerous government agencies. Burawoy’s presidential address views mainstream positivistic sociology and critical nonpositivistic sociology as mutually shaping a feasible public sociology. While recognizing that professional and policy sociologists have greater control over sociology careers and government funding, he does not critically analyze this troubling and research-crippling domination in his address (Burawoy 2005: 9–31). In a detailed article with my colleagues Sean Elias and Jennifer Mueller, we critiqued Burawoy’s important call for more public sociology for not clarifying what ‘publics’ should take priority for this type of sociological research and analysis. While he emphasizes that public sociology should address the concerns of multiple publics, his analysis is unclear about which take precedence. In contrast, we argue that the most important public sociology in a society founded on, and continuing with, multiple social oppressions must be fully critical of that society and truly emancipatory for the many millions thereby oppressed (Feagin, Elias, and Mueller 2009). In our view, the prioritized public sociology must be a critical public sociology. To extend the 30

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aforementioned comment by Karl Marx, sociologists too often just study society, but the point is to change it for the better. In my longtime view, elaborated in my 2000 presidential address, this extraordinarily important type of critical public sociology is one that addresses social injustice issues of the most oppressed US ‘publics’: people of color, women, the poor, LGBTQ people and other major marginalized and disempowered groups. Along with the class oppression central to capitalism, other major systems of social injustice remain central to the US and other Western societies, including systemic racism, systemic sexism/heterosexism, bureaucratic authoritarianism and ageist and ableist discrimination (Feagin 2001:4). In the aforementioned article, my colleagues and I contrast this critical public sociology with the 2004–5 statements of Michael Burawoy about public sociology. He suggests, there often is, and should be, a workable relationship between what he names as critical and public sociological approaches and what he names as professional and policy approaches. However, the available evidence indicates that the critical and public sociologies that feature social justice goals have long been, and conceivably long will be, in regular (not occasional) conflict with the dominant mainstream professional and policy sociologies (Feagin et al. 2009). The evidence is clear that sociologists who do critical public sociology aimed at social justice goals often pay a significant price in terms of jobs, publishing or other career opportunities within the academy. Sociologists adopting the optimistic Burawoy perspective overlook or downplay the often heavy costs of doing a truly critical public sociology, one that examines deeply societal oppressions like systemic classism, racism and sexism. We do not find, as Burawoy does, that his four listed forms of sociology are compatible or that there is a ‘reciprocal interdependence’ and ‘organic solidarity in which each type of sociology derives energy, meaning, and imagination from its connection to the others’ (Burawoy 2005:15; see also Feagin et al. 2009). Indeed, in our article we argue that mainstream professional/public sociology has failed ‘to promote social justice issues and programs where it certainly could have’ and has historically demonstrated a ‘general lack of race/class/gender pluralism in many decision-making positions.’ Too often it has promoted a ‘supposed value-neutral sociological perspective claiming to be scientific, and thus narrowly legitimate’ (Feagin et al. 2009:72). Thus, we do not share Burawoy’s conclusion that mainstream sociology has moved dramatically in a public sociology direction in recent decades in terms of its funded research, methodological diversity or social justice commitments. Interestingly, Burawoy recognizes that sociology in some other countries is not as focused on professionalism or instrumental-positivism. Indeed, everyday sociological practice is often a type of critical public sociology that is social justice and liberation oriented. For example, in South Africa, for decades there was much linkage between sociological teaching and research and the anti-apartheid struggle. Burawoy does hope that (progressive) public sociology will come to the United States: It will come when public sociology captures the imagination of sociologists, when sociologists recognize public sociology as important in its own right with its own rewards, and when sociologists then carry it forward as a social movement beyond the academy. (Burawoy 2005:25. See also pp. 21–24) Unmistakably, Burawoy has had an impact in stimulating more important discussion and addressing of an array of public sociology issues. Since his 2004 address, the American Sociological Association has set up a committee on public sociology and accented the concept on its website and in its newsletters. Still, as yet, we see no major shift away from instrumental positivism in much of mainstream sociology (see Feagin et al. 2015). 31

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What kind of a world do we want? The goals of critical public sociology In his last autobiographical statement (1968), WEB Du Bois, an early critical public sociologist, who was always concerned about the policy relevance and impacts of sociology and other social sciences, wrote, [T]oday the contradictions of American civilization are tremendous. Freedom of political discussion is difficult; elections are not free and fair. . . . The greatest power in the land is not thought or ethics, but wealth. . . . Present profit is valued higher than future need. . . . I know the United States. It is my country and the land of my fathers. It is still a land of magnificent possibilities. It is still the home of noble souls and generous people. But it is selling its birthright. It is betraying its mighty destiny. (418–419) Today the social contradictions of U.S. civilization are still immense. Prominent political and corporate voices tell us that it is the best of times; other voices insist that it is the worst of times. Consider how current apologists for modern capitalism celebrate the ‘free market’ and the global capitalistic economy. Some have even insisted that modern capitalism is the last and best economic system, as the ‘end of history’ (Fukuyama 1992). Many people in the United States and across the globe insist that this is not the best of times. First, while it may be the best of times for those at the top of the US economy, it is not so for a great many Americans, as well as a majority of the world’s peoples. The pro-capitalist polices of the US government continue to foster a substantial transfer of wealth from the country’s working and middle classes to the country’s rich and affluent social classes. Social injustice in the form of major, and sometimes increasing, inequalities in income and wealth can be observed across the country. In the United States income inequality has reached a record level for the period during the most recent decade. According to the Pew Research Center (2020), in 2018 ‘households near the top of the income ladder had incomes that were 12.6 times higher than those near the bottom.’ This was up sharply from 1980, when that figure was only nine times higher. In addition, US families in the top fifth in wealth (net worth) have seen that wealth grow 13% since the difficult economic year of 2007. In contrast, the wealth of families in the 20th–40th percentiles has dropped by 39%. This inequality is greater than in all the other powerful industrialized G-7 countries (Canada, France, Germany, Italy, Japan and the United Kingdom). Unsurprisingly, too, in recent decades the number of US millionaires and billionaires has grown, while many ordinary workers have seen real wages decline and their living costs, such as for housing and medical care, increase significantly. Moreover, a recent Pew Research Center (2020) survey found that a substantial majority of respondents agreed that this sharp societal inequality is too great and that the government should do something about it. Contemporary capitalism may bring the best of times for corporate executives and other wealthy Americans, yet for a great many Americans and others globally, it brings recurring economic disruption, exploitation, marginalization and/or immiseration. The country and the planet are now dominated by highly bureaucratized multinational corporations, which often operate independently of the US and other nation states. Working for their own economic interests, these transnational corporations routinely focus on developing their particular markets  – and often destroy or downgrade US and global regions, workers, cultures and natural environments. For example, transnational corporations now control much of the United States and the world’s agricultural system. Small farmers are shoved aside by large agribusiness 32

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corporations or are pressured to produce crops for markets controlled by large transnational corporations (Sjoberg 1996:287). The real effects of contemporary neoliberal (‘free market’) capitalism for a large proportion of the country’s (and planet’s) inhabitants are not only greater wealth and income inequality but often job restructuring, unsafe working conditions, lower real wages, underemployment or unemployment and serious problems with housing and health care. Ordinary working people and their families – in most disempowered national, racial and ethnic groups – regularly face significant negative social impacts from an encircling capitalism. In addition to the class and associated economic inequalities generated or aggravated by contemporary capitalism, other forms of social injustice and inequality remain central to the United States and other societies. Major injustice realities include continuing racial and ethnic oppression, patriarchal and gender oppression, homophobia, bureaucratic authoritarianism, age discrimination and disability discrimination – and intersections among these forms of discrimination and oppression. These persisting forms of discrimination and oppression generally have their own independent social dynamics, yet they too are often reinforced or exacerbated by the ongoing inegalitarian processes of modern capitalism.

Everyone wants fairness and equality for themselves By the end of this 21st century, if not well before, it seems likely there will be sustained and inexorable pressures to replace major US political and other social institutions associated with corporate capitalism with greater democracy that actively and fully recognizes the multiracial diversity of the country. Why? Because white elite-dominated corporate capitalism will never provide US residents with a truly just and sustainable society. Such pressures are already building in the form of grassroots social movements in many areas of this society and in other societies, such as those greatly concerned about the impact of major climate change on the United States and global living conditions. One savvy entrepreneur is Paul Hawken, an environmentally oriented critic of modern neoliberal capitalism. Hawken has recounted the revealing story of a business consultant who conducted a workshop with middle managers in a large US corporation that makes toxic chemicals such as pesticides. Early in the workshop these corporate executives discussed and rejected the general idea that creating social justice and resource equity is essential to the long-term sustainability of a society like the United States. Later, the same managers broke into five groups and sought to design a self-contained spaceship that would leave earth and return a century later with its occupants being ‘alive, happy, and healthy’ (Hawken and Korten 1999). The executives then voted on which of these groups’ hypothetical spaceship design would best meet these specific objectives. Interestingly, the winning design was comprehensive: it included insects, so no toxic pesticides were allowed onboard. Recognizing the importance of photosynthesis, the winning group decided that even weeds were necessary for a healthy ecosystem, so conventional herbicides were not allowed. The food system was also to be free of toxic chemicals. These managers ‘also decided that as a crew, they needed lots of singers, dancers, artists, and storytellers, because the CDs and videos would get old and boring fast, and engineers alone did not a village make.’ In addition, when these corporate managers were asked if it was reasonable to allow just one-fifth of those on board to control four-fifths of the ship’s essential resources, they vigorously rejected the idea ‘as unworkable, unjust, and unfair’ (Hawken and Korten 1999). This example spotlights the critically important ideas of social justice and of humanity’s environmental interdependence. Even these corporate managers, when hypothetically placed themselves in the closed system 33

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of a spaceship, rejected major resource inequalities, environmental degradation and a boring monoculture. Authentic social justice requires resource equity, fairness and respect for diversity as well as the eradication of existing forms of societal oppression. Social justice entails a redistribution of resources from those who have unjustly gained them to those who justly deserve them, and it also means creating and ensuring the processes of truly democratic participation in decision-making. A common view in Western political theory is that while ‘the people’ have a right to self-rule, they delegate that right to elected representatives – to government leaders who are supposed to act in the public interest and under the guidance of impartial laws and democratic political norms (Young 1990:91–92). However, no such impartial legal and political system exists in the United States or other Western countries, for in these hierarchically arranged societies, those at the top (usually elite white men) create and maintain over time a socio-legal framework and political structure that strongly support their specific (class, racial, gender) group interests. It seems clear that only a decisive redistribution of societal resources and decision-making power can ensure authentic social justice and real democracy. The spaceship example explicitly recognizes the interdependence of human beings and other living species. For decades now, some important ideas in biology and physics have stressed the interconnectedness of what were once thought to be discrete phenomena. The ‘gaia theory’ in biology suggests, according to Lovelock (1987), that the entire range of living matter on Earth, from whales to viruses, and from oaks to algae, could be regarded as constituting a single living entity, capable of manipulating the Earth’s atmosphere to suit its overall needs and endowed with faculties and powers far beyond those of its constituent parts. (9) This is more than a metaphorical description, for in fact we live in a country and on a planet that, we are increasingly realizing, is truly interwoven. All of earth’s aspects – from the biosphere to soils and oceans to atmosphere and climate – are best seen as parts of one interconnected living system with important cybernetic features. Thus, environmental irresponsibility in one place, such as the extensive use of fossil fuels in the United States, contributes to negative effects elsewhere, such as to global warming and other climate change across the globe. Perhaps, there are clues in the gaia theory for a broader sociological framework for viewing the development of human societies. We human beings are not just part of an interconnected biosphere, but are also linked in an increasingly integrated and global web of structured social relationships. This complex ‘sociosphere’ currently consists of some 7.5 billion people living in myriad families and communities in many nation-states. Nation-states, their formal organizations and their communities are linked across an international web. Indeed, we human beings have long been more interconnected than we might think. According to current archaeological assessments, contemporary humans all descended from ancestors who migrated out of Africa many millennia in the past. Today, most human beings speak related languages; about half the world’s people speak an Indo-European language. In recent decades, the expansion of telecommunication technologies has placed more people in potential or actual contact with one another than ever before. For the first time in human history, these technologies are rapidly creating one integrated body of humanity (see Sahtouris 1996).

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Yet, this increasingly interconnected sociosphere remains highly stratified: great benefits accrue to those classes dominant in the United States and international capitalism. However, at the same time, growing numbers of people are recognizing that, because of globalized capitalism, the earth is facing a massive environmental crisis, one that has the potential to destroy the basic conditions for human societies within a century or so. Issues of ecological destruction – as well as broader issues of social inequality and injustice – are being forced to the forefront not by corporate executives but by some 30,000 people’s groups and movements around the globe. These include environmental groups, indigenous movements, labor movements, health-policy groups, feminist groups, anti-racist organizations and anti-corporate groups (Klein 2000; Feagin and Ducey 2019). Such groups agree on many critical environmental and political-economic goals. Indeed, many people in other regions of the world seem to be ahead of the United States in their understanding of the damage done by the unbridled operations of multinational corporations. These groups are pressing for meaningful international declarations and treaties, such as the United Nations’ declarations on the environment and human rights. In many places in the United States today there is growing opposition to the economic and environmental decisions of those executives heading transnational corporations Feagin et al. 2015). Unquestionably, social justice appears as a recurring concern around the globe. For that reason alone, as I see it, sociologists must vigorously engage in a critical public sociology that foregrounds issues of social justice, or sociology will become largely irrelevant to the present and future course of human history.

Agendas for critical public sociology: the next century Looking toward the next several decades, I  see important conceptual, empirical, policy and activist tasks for which the rich diversity of contemporary sociology can help prepare us. These tasks often relate to questions of social justice. Indeed, one major reason that some subfields of US sociology are periodically attacked by conservative, and often ill-informed, journalists and media commentators is that their analyses of discrimination, domination and social justice are generally threatening to those (e.g., elite white men) who desire to maintain the status quo. Moreover, we should keep in mind that many critical sociologists have already had a broad impact, despite their recurring marginalization. Sociological ideas, terms and research are frequently used in public discourse by those grappling with societal problems, and sociology books are more widely reviewed (and perhaps read) outside the discipline than any other social science books except history books (Bressler 1999:718). Critical public sociologists have long sought answers to difficult questions like ‘Sociology for what purpose?’ and ‘Sociology for whom?’ In the first edition (2001) of our Liberation Sociology book, Hernán Vera and I gave strong humanitarian, multicultural, democratic and activist answers to such questions. We described this liberation sociology as offering a critical sociological approach that can increase our understandings of foundational and systemic societal realities, including racial, class and gender barriers, and increase cross-community dialogue about public policies and societal change – and, hopefully, expand democratic participation in the production and use of social knowledge. It can help voice those who are oppressed and bring necessary change. We have expanded this discussion with many examples of active and critical public sociologists in later editions of Liberation Sociology (Feagin and Vera 2008; Feagin et al. 2015). Let us now consider some socially relevant agendas for critical public sociology in the 21st century.

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Bringing social justice back to the center: the missing founders First, it is past time for the discipline generally to fully recover and celebrate its historical roots in a critical public sociology committed to social justice in ideals and practice. The most important public sociology is a critical public sociology, which is where sociology began in the 19th century with early black sociologists like Du Bois and early white female sociologists like Addams. Sadly, in recent decades no sociologist has published even one major article in a leading sociology journal (e.g., the American Journal of Sociology, American Sociological Review, Sociological Theory and even Gender and Society) assessing the critical importance of the sociological ideas of women sociologists in the founding generation (Lengermann and Niebrugge-Brantley 2001; Lengermann and Niebrugge 2007). The only partial exception to this is one translation of Marianne Weber’s work in Sociological Theory (Lengermann and Niebrugge 2007). Without a doubt, it is time for sociology journal editors to remedy this neglect and help reclaim the important ideas of those white women sociologists and sociologists of color who are among the founders of our discipline. In my original 2000 ASA presidential address, and in several books like Liberation Sociology, my colleagues and I lay out the early commitments to a social justice public sociology by the much neglected first founders – for example, Harriet Martineau, Jane Addams, WEB Du Bois and the sociologists working with them – and argue that mainstream sociology has become less focused on issues of social justice over time, especially social justice issues accented for more than a century by sociologists and communities that are not white and male. In the aforementioned article with Elias and Mueller (Feagin et al. 2009:71–88), we argue that a truly critical public sociology must not assume, like Burawoy seems to do in his presidential address, that class is always the most powerful form of societal oppression. A well-constructed critical public sociology will realize the central importance of Addams’s and Du Bois’ savvy sociological projects focusing on racial and gender oppression.

Nurture the countersystem approach to public policies Second, contemporary sociologists need to enlarge and cultivate critical public sociology’s countersystem approach, not only in regard to investigating social inequality and injustice but also in regard to assessing alternative social systems that might be much more just. Today, most sociology handbooks and encyclopedias on my bookshelves have little to say about the concept of social justice. One significant task for social scientists is to document empirically, and ever more thoroughly, the character of major social injustices, nationally and internationally. We also need much more conceptual work that develops and enriches the concepts of social justice, pluralism, democracy and equality for an array of societies. In my view, social justice is not only a fundamental human right but is also essential for a society to be sustainable in the long term. Even the corporate executives in the aforementioned spaceship example developed some understanding that justice and equity are essential to the long-term sustainability of a social system like that of the United States. As I have suggested earlier, social injustice can be examined not only in terms of the maldistribution of goods and services, but also in regard to the social relations responsible for that maldistribution. These inegalitarian social relations, which can range from centrally oppressive power relations to less central mechanisms of discrimination, determine whether individuals, families and other groups are excluded from society’s important resources and decision-making processes. They shape the development of group and individual identities and the sense of

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personal dignity. In the end, social justice entails a restructuring of the larger frameworks of social relations generally (Feagin and Vera 2001; Feagin et al. 2015). Many sociologists have made a good start toward understanding certain types of social injustice and inequality. Some have done considerable work to document the character and impact of class, racial and gender subordination. In the United States and in Latin America, sociologists using participatory action–research strategies have honed countersystem ideas and methods and worked interactively with people at the grassroots level seeking assessments of, and alternatives to, an onerous inegalitarian status quo (e.g., Fals-Borda 1960). The commitment here is to get out of the ivory tower and to help build a resource and power base for the disenfranchised in their own communities. The legitimacy of this type of sociological field research should be enhanced. As one group of participatory-action researchers has put it, To map and analyze the dimensions of social problems . . . is seen as scientific research. To discuss and describe alternative practices and develop solutions is seen as moving toward politics and advocacy – areas that are perceived as a threat to the objectivity of research. (Nyden et al. 1997: also see Feagin et al. 2015) In addition, collaborative research between sociologists and community groups seeking substantial solutions to serious local problems of housing, work, education, poverty, discrimination and environmental pollution should not be shoved aside, as it sometimes is, with cavalier comments about sociological ‘do-goodism,’ but should be placed in the respected core of sociological research – where it was at the birth of US sociology. In everyday practice, all social science is a moral activity, whether this is recognized or not. In a society deeply pervaded and structured by social oppressions, most sociological research will reflect these realities to some degree, and attempts to deny these realities or their impact on research are misguided at best. All social science perspectives have an underlying view of what the world ought to be. As Barrington Moore (1971) noted, [Questions] that arouse human passions, especially in a time of change, have had to do with the forms of authority and justice, and the purposes of human life. . . . It is impossible therefore to avoid taking some kind of a moral position, not only in writing about politics but also in not writing about them. (3) A countersystem approach attempts to assess the status quo from a viewpoint at least somewhat outside the frame of the existing society and/or nation-state. In practice, social scientists can accept the prevailing nation-state or bureaucratic-capitalistic morality, or they can resist this morality by making a commitment to authentic social justice and human rights. Contemporary countersystem approaches often accent a broad human rights framework in which each person is entitled to fair treatment and justice simply because they are human beings, not because they are members of a particular nation-state. Moreover, some social scientists (e.g., Sjoberg 1996; Feagin et al. 2015) have suggested that the United Nations’ Universal Declaration of Human Rights – with its strong array of internationally accepted (if often unimplemented) social, political and economic rights – can be a good starting place for developing a robust human rights framework for sociological and other social science research. As I  see it, we should seek a public sociology that is grounded in empirical and theoretical research and that hones a critical perspective less restricted by established inegalitarian

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institutions. Careful data collection, reasoned argument and critical moral judgments are not incompatible. The great sociologist of racism and classism, Oliver C. Cox, underscored, Clearly, the social scientist should be accurate and objective but not neutral; he [or she] should be passionately partisan in favor of the welfare of the people and against the interests of the few when they seem to submerge that welfare. (Cox 1948:xvi) Numerous sociologists, from Jane Addams and WEB Du Bois to Robert and Helen Lynd and Gunnar Myrdal to more contemporary scholars as diverse as Alfred McClung Lee, Jessie Bernard, James Blackwell, Joyce Ladner, Robert Bellah and Orlando Fals-Borda have accented the importance of bringing moral discourse and research on ‘what is the good society’ into the center of sociological debate and analysis. Even more, today we need to look beyond the borders of the nation-state to address the possibility of a world moral and democratic community.

Be more self-critical about who and what we leave out Third, as part of an ongoing self-renewal process, I see the need for accelerated self-reflection in sociology. This is a task closely related to my last point. The communities, colleges, universities, agencies, companies and other settings in which we practice sociology have long been greatly shaped by the oppressive social relations of the larger society. We need a critical and emancipating public sociology that takes risks to counter these oppressive social relations in our own bailiwicks. All sociologists have to accept the existing system some of the time, but many rarely make attempts to openly question the oppressiveness in that surrounding system. The countersystem perspective in critical public sociology inclines us to resist the commonplace subtle, covert and blatant oppressions in such situations. As social scientists, we should regularly examine our research environments, including our metascientific underpinnings and commitments. Critical social perspectives, such as those of feminists, LGBTQ scholars, critical legal theorists, anti-racist scholars and Marxist researchers, among others, have periodically been resurgent since the 1960s. Scholars researching from these perspectives, as well as symbolic interactionists and ethnomethodologists, have called for more internal reflection in the social sciences. In a famous critical reflection, Dorothy Smith (1987) argues that mainstream sociology has historically been part of the dominant ideological apparatus in this society, which focuses on issues primarily of concern to men. Mainstream sociology’s central themes are ‘organized by and articulate the perspectives of men – not as individuals . . . but as persons playing determinate parts in the social relations of this form of society’ (56). Increasingly, feminist sociologists have pressured the sociology discipline to view and research the social world from the perspective of women and thereby greatly expand its fund of knowledge, but much remains to be done in that regard (Ochoa and Feagin 2020). For example, as of yet, there is no generally recognized and widely operative theory of institutional and systemic sexism. African American, Latino, Native American, Asian American, LGBTQ and other formerly excluded sociologists also have pressed the discipline of sociology to view and research society from their standpoints and thus to substantially broaden sociological knowledge. For instance, in an introduction to the reprint of her pioneering book, The Death of White Sociology (1973 [1998]), Ladner notes numerous ways in which the presence of scholars of color, as well as women and GLBTQ scholars, have forced issues of social subjugation to be considered seriously in the academy and larger society. Similarly, feminists of color have forced the academy to consider seriously multiple statuses and the intersectionality of oppressions (Baca Zinn and Dill 38

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1994; Collins and Bilge 2016). The goal of all these scholars is not just to develop alternative funds of knowledge, but also to push this knowledge in from the disciplinary margins, where it too often resides, toward the central trends and debates in sociology. Inside and outside the discipline, this accumulating knowledge can then become part of the process of eroding the contemporary relations of social oppression. Hopefully, more self-reflection among sociologists can also lead us and other social scientists to destroy the insidious boundaries we often draw around ourselves, such as the artificial dichotomy of quantitative versus qualitative research, the ranking of basic over applied research and the valuing of research over teaching.

The importance of teaching critical public sociology Fourth, we need to recognize and accent the importance of teaching a critical and countersystem public sociology – especially the kind of quality teaching that will prepare present and future generations for the coming social, economic, technological and environmental challenges. Indeed, many of us were recruited into sociology by first-rate teachers. Our graduate programs need to recognize that most people who secure PhD degrees in sociology do not become professors in research universities, but rather become applied sociologists or faculty members with heavy teaching loads in a diverse array of public and private educational institutions. The majority of undergraduate and graduate students in sociology are looking for meaningful ways to contribute to making a better society. Thus, it is disturbing to hear reports from some of these students at various colleges and universities that many professors are asserting that there is no room in sociology for social justice idealism and activism. As teachers of sociology, we should make clear to the coming generations of sociologists not only that there is plenty of room for the idealism and activism of a critical public sociology but also that these qualities might be required for humanity to survive the huge challenges of the next century. We need to communicate the excitement and importance of doing this kind of emancipatory sociology. The critical public sociologist, Alfred McClung Lee (1978), was eloquent in this regard: The wonder and mysteries of human creativity, love, and venturesomeness and the threatening problems of human oppression and of sheer persistence beckon and involve those with the curiosity and courage to be called sociologists. Only those who choose to serve humanity rather than to get caught up in the scramble for all the immediate rewards of finance and status can know the pleasures and lasting rewards of such a pursuit. (16–17) In my view, sociology students should be shown how the diversity of theories, methods, debates and practitioners in sociology is mostly healthy for the field and for society. We also should strive to help our students think deeply and critically about their social lives and about building a better society. Among numerous others, Wendell Bell (1998) has underscored the importance of showing social science students how to engage in debates about important societal issues, critically assess necessary moral judgments and explore possible social futures for themselves and their societies.

Study the big social questions, and accent the big picture Finally, as I see it, contemporary sociologists need to spend much more effort studying the big social questions of the 21st century. Interestingly, Kai Erikson (1984:306; also see Wilner 1985) 39

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once suggested that a review of leading sociology journals over several decades would likely find that many decisive events had been ignored there by sociologists. When social scientists become too professionalized and too narrowly committed to a particular discipline or area of study, research issues tend to be defined from within their dominant professional paradigm and/or hyper-specialization. They rely heavily on a narrow range of theories and methods. Too frequently, only those research topics and interpretations are fully accepted that do not threaten the basis of the profession and its established intellectual capital. However, technological and other knowledge developments are now moving so fast that a social scientist who is too narrowly trained or focused may be incapable of making sense out of the coming currents of societal change. In many US colleges and universities, the administratively sanctioned goal of generating government or foundation grant money – too often for its own sake – still distorts much social science research in the direction of relatively minor societal issues. This heavy focus on grant money reduces the amount of research on many critical public issues – such as racial, class and gender oppressions – and diminishes the potential for colleges and universities to be arenas for serious debate and discussion of those critical issues (Black 1999). Sociologists need to formulate more original and independent ideas and illuminate and directly and critically address recurring national and global crises. As Gouldner, Agger, Burawoy and many other sociologists have suggested for decades, we do need more sociologists to become active as public intellectuals who speak critically, and from data, about major societal issues to larger audiences, especially outside academia. Additionally, in sociology and other social science journals, social scientists need to be allowed by editors to break from the conventional style of research presentation and jargonistic writing that targets a specialized audience and move to a style accessible to broader audiences and to an approach that addresses the big societal questions and, indeed, the implications of sociological research for the larger society. At the same time, we should recognize there are numerous sociologists who write well and accessibly yet often face the censorship of ideas that are seen as too critical – an experience still common in academia and the larger society. Thus, we also should insist that the relevant publishing outlets consider and publish important critical analyses of momentous social issues and not rule them out as ‘too controversial’ or as ‘only thought pieces’ (Agger 1989:220; see also Feagin et al. 2015). Yes, some public sociologists do work on the big and tough questions, yet we need many more to ask major critical questions about such societal trends as the huge and ongoing wealth transfers from the working classes to the rich, the social impact of current and coming environmental crises, the impact of globalizing capitalism on local communities and the catastrophic human costs of continuing systemic racism, systemic sexism and other major social oppressions. One major research question still requiring much attention relates to the international impact of multinational capitalism and its ‘free markets.’ We hear much today about the global capitalistic economy, but all too little social science research is examining its deep structure and broad range of human consequences. Many decades ago, in a foreword to Karl Polanyi’s (1944 [1957]) pathbreaking book, The Great Transformation, sociologist Robert M. MacIver (1944 [1957]) noted that some research on capitalistic markets already indicated that formulas like ‘world peace through world trade’ were dangerous simplifications: Neither a national nor an international system can depend on the automatic regulants. Balanced budgets and free enterprise and world commerce and international clearinghouses . . .

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will not guarantee [a peaceful] international order. Society alone can guarantee it; international society must also be discovered. (xi) Other major research questions deserving much more attention from critical public sociology center on the foundational character, huge personal and social costs and future of contemporary white racism. While numerous sociologists have indeed pressed forward in researching the white-generated oppression long targeting Americans of color, yet more sociological researchers should address (1) the ways in which racial oppression becomes hidden, disguised, or subtle in character and practice; (2) the broad white-racist framing defending that continuing oppression and (3) the social costs for its targets and for the larger society. We should also encourage similar sociological research on other major forms of social oppression that pervade this and other contemporary societies. In recent years, critical public sociologists and other critical social scientists have undertaken significant empirical and theoretical work on sexism, homophobia, ageism and discrimination against people who are disabled, yet today these areas cry out for much more research and analysis, including public policies aimed at reducing or ending these social oppressions. In addition, more sociologists should study societal futures, including the alternative social futures of just and egalitarian societies. The United States spends several million dollars annually on the scientific search for extraterrestrial life, but very little on examining the possible or likely social futures for terrestrial societies. Today, we should encourage more sociologists and other social scientists to investigate societal probabilities and possibilities and assess them critically for the general public. Social scientists can extrapolate critically from understandings of the trends and possibilities already apparent in various societal arenas as well as probe an array of societal alternatives with imaginative research approaches. Undoubtedly, major societal transformations loom ahead of us. There are, for example, the major demographic changes well described by some sociologists, such as the ‘graying’ of and ‘browning’ of US society. Such trends will likely be associated with other societal changes: such aging societies, for example, may be less warlike; have less street crime and be more concerned about health care, social services and even euthanasia. Another demographic shift well underway is the increasing racial and ethnic diversity in national populations like that of the United States. According to the U.S. Census Bureau, white Americans are currently just over 60% of the population, a substantial decrease since the year 2000. In the 2010 census, whites were a minority in California, Texas, New Mexico and Hawaii; the analyses of the 2020 census will likely show that reality in yet other states. Already, the Census Bureau estimates indicate that by late 2020, a majority of US children under 18 will be children of color. By about 2050, a majority of all Americans in an estimated population 429 million will be people of color (U.S. Census Bureau 2008; Frey 2011; Saenz and Poston 2020) In the coming years, this ‘browning of America’ (or ‘coming white minority’) reality will likely bring more pressure for social, economic and political change. It is already bringing much political change in states like California, where the state government in recent decades has moved from substantial control by a relatively conservative Republican Party to full control by a relatively progressive Democratic Party. Much socially progressive legislation has been passed and implemented there in the last decade. A major reason for this large-scale political change appears to be the significant demographic shift to more voters of color in that state in recent decades. In addition, nationally and at the state level, there has been substantial white pushback, protest and organization against these demographic and political changes. The 2016 election of

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Donald J. Trump as US president, a politician with anti-immigrant and other white nationalist sympathies, is partially attributed to many white voters’ fears of becoming a minority population. These white fears and related actions need much more study by critical public sociologists and other social scientists. For example, one troubling survey by social scientist Justin Gest (2016) reveled that a majority of whites supported a (hypothetical) new nationalistic and nativistic political party committed to ‘stopping mass immigration, providing American jobs to American workers, preserving America’s Christian heritage, and stopping the threat of Islam’ (2016). For the most part, in-depth analysis of the societal significance of these demographic trends has been left to journalists and popular commentators, a great many of whom have limited sociological tools and knowledge. There is ample opportunity now for critical public sociologists to examine the possible or likely societal futures associated with trends such as these, particularly assessments from a countersystem framework accenting the goals of social justice and multiracial democracy. As I see it, more sociologists should be doing critical and public research on, and showing the public the social consequences of, the current and coming technological advances in biomedicine, artificial intelligence (AI), genetics, robotics and telecommunications. A central aspect of contemporary human societies like the United States is the ability to collect, amass and analyze information on their citizens. Today, new developments in information generation, storage and application are emerging at an explosive rate. For instance, technological optimists predict that over the next few decades the biomedical revolution will greatly extend the human life span and augment our mental and physical capacities dramatically. However, one can ask, what are the social consequences of striking biomedical developments for the world’s less wealthy, mostly non-Western societies? Moreover, in a provocative futuristic article ‘Why the Future Doesn’t Need Us?’ Sun Microsystems’ co-founder and scientist Bill Joy (2000) has warned of a major technological threat to human beings – the new technologies of robots and other human-engineered organisms. In Joy’s informed prediction, uncontrolled self-replication by robots with artificial intelligence could pose a serious threat to human beings. Recently, three critical policy analysts (Zimmermann, Di Rosa, and Hochan Kim 2020) at Princeton University demonstrated that currently existing AI algorithms in areas like criminal justice and policing are having seriously problematical impacts in US society, including aggressively perpetuating old racist and class biases. Unsurprisingly, they make important policy suggestions, including calling for more democratic oversight of AI. In addition, several computer scientists have predicted that by the 2030s, computers will be ever more human, ‘conscious’ and intelligent (Kurzweil 1999). They predict that computers will have capacities a million times greater in the future than at present and that computerized robots will be much ‘smarter’ than human beings. A generally cautious computer scientist, Joy (2000) does not see himself as writing science fiction, but as one who asks tough questions about social futures: ‘Given the incredible power of these new technologies, shouldn’t we be asking how we can best coexist with them? . . . [S]houldn’t we proceed with caution?’ (n.p.). Reviewing policy options, Joy and other analysts suggest the almost unthinkable solution of humans giving up the development of robotic and AI technologies because of their current and future negative consequences for human societies. They question the contemporary faith in the benign character of already problematical new technologies. Implicitly or explicitly, they indicate how past racial, class and gender oppressions simply get perpetuated in the new technologies, including social technologies like the online social media (e.g., Facebook and Twitter). They ask tough questions about the failure of physical and social scientists, policymakers and ordinary citizens to be centrally concerned with the social consequences of these accelerating technologies. Critical assessments of possible or probable social futures for technologically 42

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‘advanced’ civilizations are natural areas for much more research and analysis by critical public sociologists.

Conclusion In an 1843 letter, the young Karl Marx suggested that critical social analysis should lay bare the hidden societal realities. The goal must be the ‘reform of consciousness not through dogmas but by analyzing mystical consciousness obscure to itself, whether . . . in religious or political form’ (Marx 1843 [1975]:209). Marx added that the task for involved social scientists, as for other citizens of the world, was the clarification of the ‘struggles and wishes of the age.’ For many millennia, human beings have been toolmakers, yet in just a few decades, we have created economies and technologies – such as polluting industries, fossil-fuel consuming engines and nuclear weapons – that now threaten the survival of our species and our living planet itself. It seems likely that the fate of our planet and its many species will be decided within the next generation or two by just one of its species. As moral beings, we need to ask insistently: What would alternatives to our self-destructive societies look like? And how do we get there? Much of humanity might agree on a new global social system that reduces social injustice, is democratically accountable to all people, offers a decent standard of living for all and operates in a sustainable relation to earth’s other living systems (e.g., see Korten 1999; Sahtouris 1996; Feagin et al. 2015). Determining whether this is the case and how such a just global society might be developed are enormous questions that critical public sociologists – and other social scientists of the world – should be tackling. In a pioneering book, The Image of the Future (1973), Fred Polak argued that we need a new generation of visionaries who can think clearly and deeply about sustainable social futures: Social scientist, intellectual, artist, leader, middleman of any breed, and the Common Man [and Woman] to whom, after all, this century belongs – each must ask himself [or herself], what is my vision of the future? And what am I going to do about it? (305) While social science analysis can help us to understand our ailing societal dreams and decide what dreams to accept or reject, such analysis is beneficial only if it frees us to decide on a better future.

Note * This article is a substantially revised and updated version of my 2000 American Sociological Association presidential address, originally published as Joe R. Feagin. 2001. “Social Justice and Sociology: Agendas for the Twenty-First Century.” American Sociological Review 66:1–20, February. I would like to thank the numerous colleagues who made helpful comments on various drafts of this presidential address and subsequently. Among these are Hernán Vera, Sidney Willhelm, Bernice McNair Barnett, Gideon Sjoberg, Anne Rawls, Mary Jo Deegan, Michael R. Hill, Patricia Lengermann, Jill Niebrugge-Brantley, Tony Orum, William A. Smith, Ben Agger, Karen Pyke, Leslie Houts Picca, Kimberley Ducey, Sean Elias, Melissa Ochoa and Jennifer Mueller.

References Addams, Jane. 1902. Democracy and Social Ethics. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Agger, Ben. 1989. Reading Science: A Literary, Political, and Sociological Analysis. Dix Hills, NY: General Hall. 43

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Agger, Ben. 2000. Public Sociology: From Social Facts to Literary Acts. Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield. Baca Zinn, Maxine and Bonnie Thornton Dill, eds. 1994. Women of Color in U.S. Society. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Bannister, Roger C. 1992. “Principle, Politics, Profession: American Sociologists and Fascism.” Pp. 172– 213 in Sociology Responds to Fascism, edited by Stephen P. Turner and Dirk Kasler. London: Routledge. Bell, Wendell. 1998. “Making People Responsible: The Possible, the Probable, and the Preferable.” American Behavioral Scientist 42:323–339. Birnbaum, Norman. 1971. Toward a Critical Sociology. New York: Oxford University Press. Black, Timothy. 1999. “Going Public: How Sociology Might Matter Again.” Sociological Inquiry 69:257–275. Bressler, Marvin. 1999. “Contemporary Sociology: A Quarter Century of Book Reviews.” Sociological Forum 14:707–720. Bryant, Christopher G.A. 1985. Positivism in Social Theory and Research. New York, NY: St. Martin’s Press. Burawoy, Michael. 2005. “For Public Sociology.” American Sociological Review 70:4–28. Cancian, Francesca M. 1995. “Truth and Goodness: Does the Sociology of Inequality Promote Social Betterment.” Sociological Perspectives 38:339–356. Collins, Patricia Hill and Sirma Bilge. 2016. Intersectionality. Malden, MA: Polity Press. Cooper, Anna Julia. 1892. A Voice from the South by a Black Woman from the South. Xenia, OH: Aldine Press. Cox, Oliver C. 1948. Caste, Class, and Race: A Study in Social Dynamics. New York, NY: McGraw-Hill. Deegan, Mary Jo. 1987. “An American Dream: The Historical Connections Between Women, Humanism, and Sociology, 1890–1920.” Humanity and Society 11:353–365. Deegan, Mary Jo. 1988. Jane Addams and the Men of the Chicago School, 1892–1918. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Books. Du Bois, W.E.B. 1899 [1973]. The Philadelphia Negro: A Social Study. Together with a Special Report on Domestic Service by Isabel Eaton. Millwood, NY: Kraus-Thomson. Du Bois, W.E.B. 1968. The Autobiography of W. E. B. Du Bois: A Soliloquy on Viewing My Life from the Last Decade of Its First Century. New York, NY: International Publishers. Durkheim, Émile. 1893 [1933]. The Division of Labor in Society. New York, NY: Free Press. Erikson, Kai. 1984. “Sociology and Contemporary Events.” Pp. 303–310 in Conflict and Consensus: A Festschrift in Honor of Lewis A. Coser, edited by W.W. Powell and R. Robbins. New York: Free Press. Fals-Borda, Orlando. 1960. Acción Comunal En Una Vereda Colombiana: Su Applicación, Sus Resultados y Su Interpretación. Bogotá and Colombia: Universidad Nacional de Colombia, Departamento de Sociología. Feagin, Joe R. and Kimberley Ducey. 2019. Racist America: Roots, Current Realities, and Future Reparations. 4th edition. New York: Routledge. Feagin, Joe R., Sean Elias, and Jennifer Mueller. 2009. “Social Justice and Critical Public Sociology.” Pp.  71–88 in Handbook of Public Sociology, edited by Vincent Jeffries. Lanham, MD: Rowman  & Littlefield. Feagin, Joe R. and Hernán Vera. 2001. Liberation Sociology. Boulder, CO: Westview. Feagin, Joe R. and Hernán Vera. 2008. Liberation Sociology. 2nd edition. New York: Paradigm, Routledge. Feagin, Joe R., Hernán Vera, and Kimberley Ducey. 2015. Liberation Sociology. 3rd edition. New York: Paradigm, Routledge. Frey, William H. 2011. Melting Pot Cities and Suburbs: Racial and Ethnic Change in Metro America in the 2000s. Washington, DC: Brookings Institution. Friedrichs, Robert W. 1970. A Sociology of Sociology. New York, NY: Free Press. Fukuyama, Francis. 1992. The End of History and the Last Man. New York, NY: Free Press. Gans, Herbert J. 2002. “More of Us Should Become Public Sociologists.” Footnotes 30(6):8 (https://www. asanet.org/sites/default/files/july-august_2002.pdf). Gest, Justin. 2016. “Why Trumpism Will Outlast Donald Trump.” Politico.com, August  16. Retrieved December 2, 2019 (www.politico.com/magazine/story/2016/08/why-trumpism-will-outlast-donaldtrump-214166#ixzz4N4wM4lsr). Giddings, Franklin H. 1909. “In Discussion After L. L. Bernard, the Teaching of Sociology in the United States.” American Journal of Sociology 15:195–211. 44

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Gouldner, Alvin W. 1970. The Coming Crisis in Western Sociology: The Social Origins of Social Theory. New York: Basic Books. Hawken, Paul and David Korten. 1999. “Corporate Futures.” Interview published in Yes! A  Journal of Positive Futures, Summer. Retrieved December 12, 1999 (www.futurenet.org/lOcitiesofexuberance/ corporatefutures). Paul Hawken and David Korten. 1999. “Corporate Futures.” Interview Yes! A Journal of Positive Futures, Summer. Retrieved December 12, 1999 (www.futurenet.org/10citiesofexuberance/corporatefutures). Hill, Michael R. 1989. “Empiricism and Reason in Harriet Martineau’s Sociology.” Pp. XV–LX in How to Observe Morals and Manners, edited by Harriet Martineau. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Publishers. Hoecker-Drysdale, Susan. 1992. Harriet Martineau: First Woman Sociologist. Oxford: Berg Publishers. Joy, Bill. 2000. “Why the Future Doesn’t Need Us?” Wired, April. Retrieved April 2000 (www.wired. com:80/wired/archive/8.04/joy.html). Klein, Naomi 2000. No Space, No Choice, No Jobs, No Logo: Taking Aim at the Brand Bullies. New York, NY: Picador. Korten, David. 1999. The Post-Corporate World: Life After Capitalism. San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers and Kumarian Press. Kurzweil, Ray. 1999. Age of Spiritual Machines: When Computers Exceed Human Intelligence. New York, NY: Viking. Ladner, Joyce A. 1973 [1998]. “Introduction to the Black Classic Press Edition.” No page numbers given, in The Death of White Sociology: Essays on Race and Culture. Baltimore: Black Classic Press. Lee, Alfred McClung. 1978. Sociology for Whom? New York, NY: Oxford University Press. Lemert, Charles and Esme Bhan, eds., 1998. The Voice of Anna Julia Cooper. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield. Lengermann, Patricia Madoo and Jill Niebrugge-Brantley. 1998. The Women Founders: Sociology and Social Theory, 1830–1930. New York, NY: McGraw-Hill. Lengermann, Patricia Madoo and Gillian Niebrugge. 2007. The Women Founders: Sociology and Social Theory 1830–1930. Long Grove, IL: Waveland Press. Lengermann, Patricia Madoo and Jill Niebrugge-Brantley. 2001. “The Meaning of ‘Things’: Theory and Method in Harriet Martineau’s How to Observe Morals and Manners and Emile Durkheim’s The Rules of Sociological Method.” Pp. 212–237 in Harriet Martineau: Theoretical and Methodological Perspectives, edited by Michael R. Hill and Susan Hoecker‑Drysdale. New York, NY: Garland. Lovelock, James E. 1987. Gaia: A New Look at Life on Earth. Oxford: Oxford University Press. MacIver, Robert M. 1944 [1957]. “Foreword.” Pp. ix–xxi in Society in America 1837, edited by Harriet Karl Martineau. 3 vol. New York, NY: Saunders and Otley. Martineau, Harriet. 1838 [1989]. How to Observe Morals and Manners. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Publishers. Marx, Karl. 1843 [1975]. “Letters from the Franco-German Yearbooks.” [1843 Letter to A. Ruge] Pp. 206– 209 in Early Writings [of] Marx, introduced by L. Colletti and translated by R. Livingstone and G. Benton. London: Penguin Books. Marx, Karl. 1845 [1962]. “Theses on Feuerbach.” In Selected Works. 2 vol. Moscow: Foreign Languages Publishing House. Moore, Barrington. 1971. Reflections on the Causes of Human Misery, and Upon Certain Proposals to Eliminate Them. Boston, MA: Beacon Press. Myrdal, Gunnar. 1944 [1964]. An American Dilemma. 2 vol. New York, NY: McGraw-Hill. Nyden, Philip, Anne Figert, Mark Shibley, and Darryl Burrows. 1997. “Conclusion: Collaboration Gives Hope and Voice in an Age of Disillusionment.” Pp. 240–242 in Building Community: Social Science in Action, edited by P. Nyden, A. Figert, M. Shibley, and D. Burrows. Thousand Oaks, CA: Pine Forge Press. Ochoa, Melissa and Joe R. Feagin. 2020. “Toward a Theory of Systemic Sexism.” Unpublished research paper, Texas A&M University. Park, Robert E. and Ernest W. Burgess. 1921. Introduction to the Science of Sociology. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 45

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Pew Research Center. 2020. “Most Americans Say There Is Too Much Economic Inequality in the U.S., but Fewer Than Half Call It a Top Priority.” Social & Demographic Trends, January 9. Retrieved January  12, 2020 (www.pewsocialtrends.org/2020/01/09/most-americans-say-there-is-too-mucheconomic-inequality-in-the-u-s-but-fewer-than-half-call-it-a-top-priority). Polak, Fred. 1973. The Image of the Future. Translated and abridged by E. Boulding. San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass. Polanyi, Karl. 1944 [1957]. The Great Transformation: The Political and Economic Origins of Our Time. Boston, MA: Beacon Press. Raushenbush, Winifred. 1979. Robert E. Park: Biography of a Sociologist. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Residents of Hull-House. 1895 [1970]. Hull-House Maps and Papers, by Residents of Hull-House, a Social Settlement. New York: Arno Press. Saenz, Rogelio and Dudley L. Poston, Jr. 2020. “Children of Color Already Make Up the Majority of Kids in Many U.S. States.” The Conversation, January 9. Retrieved January 9, 2020 (http://theconversa tion.com/children-of-color-already-make-up-the-majority-of-kids-in-many-us-states-128499). Sahtouris, Elisabet. 1996. Earthdance: Living Systems in Evolution. Alameda, CA: Metalog Books. Sjoberg, Gideon. 1996. “The Human Rights Challenge to Communitarianism: Formal Organizations and Race and Ethnicity.” Pp. 273–293 in Macro Socio-Economics: From Theory to Activism, edited by D. Sciulli. Armonk, NY: M. E. Sharpe. Sjoberg, Gideon and Leonard D. Cain. 1971. “Negative Values, Countersystem Models, and the Analysis of Social Systems.” Pp. 212–229 in Institutions and Social Exchange: The Sociologies of Talcott Parsons and George C. Homans, edited by H. Turk and R.L. Simpson. Indianapolis, IN: Bobbs-Merrill. Small, Albion. 1895. “The Era of Sociology.” American Journal of Sociology 1:1–27. Smith, Dorothy E. 1987. The Everyday World as Problematic: A  Feminist Sociology. Boston: Northeastern University Press. Steinfels, Peter. 1980. The Neoconservatives: The Men Who Are Changing America’s Politics. New York, NY: Touchstone. U.S. Census Bureau. 2008. “An Older and More Diverse Nation by Midcentury.” August. Retrieved June 12, 2009 (www.census.gov/Press Release/www/releases/archives/population/012496.html). Vaughan, Ted R. 1993. “The Crisis in Contemporary American Sociology: A  Critique of the Discipline’s Dominant Paradigm.” Pp. 10–53 in A Critique of Contemporary American Sociology, edited by T.R. Vaughan, G. Sjoberg, and L.T. Reynolds. New York, NY: General Hall. Wells-Barnett, Ida B. 1895. A Red Record. Chicago, IL: Donohue and Henneberry. Wilner, Patricia. 1985. “The Main Drift of Sociology Between 1936 and 1984.” Journal of the History of Sociology 5:1–20. Young, Iris Marion. 1990. Justice and the Politics of Difference. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2000). Zimmermann, Annette, Elena Di Rosa, and Hochan Kim. 2020. “Technology Can’t Fix Algorithmic Injustice.” Boston Review, January  9. Retrieved January  10, 2020 (https://bostonreview.net/ science-nature-politics/annette-zimmermann-elena-di-rosa-hochan-kim-technology-cant-fixalgorithmic).

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4 The missing chapter in publications of relevant empirical studies concerning public sociology from now on (with some examples from the Israeli experience) Aaron Ellor

Public sociology as an involvement of academic sociologists in public affairs, as sociologists, is not rare in Israel, even if it is not so common, and tends almost to disappear in the general picture of conducting ‘pure’ academic studies and dealing with the teaching duties. In Israel there are seven universities and about ten academic colleges that include sociological departments. As part of their involvement in public affairs, Israeli sociologists are participating in legislation efforts and formal public committees. Some of them are involved in social movements and political lobbies; many of them are participating in joint public-academic discussions and lecturing to public groups outside the academic world. Some of them are appearing in the mass media, whether as interviewees or as publicists, and there are those who conduct evaluation studies or offer professional consultation. One of the earlier examples of public sociology in Israel was in helping the Israeli Air Force build the classification system for new pilots in the 1960s. Even today the relevant unit in the Israeli Army is called ‘the Air Force sociologist’s unit.’ A few years earlier, the first prominent Israeli sociologist Shmuel Eisenstadt was asked by the government to check the circumstances and to offer ways to deal with clashes that developed in the Vadi Salib neighborhood in the big northern city Haifa, by Jewish new emigrants who complained about their poor living conditions. Eisenstadt sent one of his students, Moshe Lissak, who later on became a prominent professor of sociology by himself. Lissak made some observations and prepared with Eisenstadt some recommendations on how to cope with those demonstrations. During the 1970s, a comprehensive reform took place in the Israeli educational system, and many educational sociologists were asked to participate in evaluation studies to follow the reform process and its success. A few years later a major enterprise of a renewal project at 175 neighborhoods took place in Israel, and again, many Israeli sociologists, such as Naomi Carmon, became involved with evaluation studies of this project. Seemingly, both these evaluation enterprises barely can 47

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be considered as public sociology, but the comprehensive recommendations that were created by the involved scholars at those evaluations can be considered as a significant involvement in public affairs. In the 1980s, after an Israeli minister of justice appointed a criminologists’ council, most of them sociologists – for a while, they got drafts of law suggestions, prepared by parliament members. The council members made an analysis of these law suggestions and delivered position papers concerning them. In the national management of the Kibbutzim movement in Israel, there was a tradition of about 30 years (till it ended recently throughout a privatization process) to include an academic sociologist in their managerial panel. Those sociologists examined and offered change initiatives following research findings and sociological theories. The educational system in Israel in recent decades has been achieving unsatisfactory grades in international exams like Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA). Few sociologists, mainly Yossi Shavit among them, succeeded in showing that one changeable variable that might decrease this failure is to minimize moderately the number of pupils in the classes and thus elevate the pupils’ level to the European average level. Three years ago, with or without the influence of those studies – and probably followed by a sort of general demonstration held in 2011 and a unique protest called the Sardines’ Protest, the ministry of education started to reduce systematically the number of pupils in the classes of the elementary schools (through investing huge budgets). Recently, the sociologist Orly Benjamin, who presents herself as a public sociologist, began trying to advance the rights of women in service occupations, according to her research findings. Judith Shoval (2019) recently published her experience from the 1960s, about recommendations that she offered to the management of a big health care organization in Israel following a chronic problem of ‘flooding’ the physicians’ offices (that was revealed as not necessarily connected to medical problems). When we are speaking about public sociology as it ‘exists’ in these and other fields, we mean that sociologists are creating studies that are relevant to problems and ambitions of the population as the general public or to different sectors of society. Many such studies have implications on potential changes that might be implemented in such populations to improve their welfare and well-being, solve problems and help them to reach their essential needs. However, even when such studies have their clear relevance and reveal important potential implications, very few of them are becoming what might be called ‘applied sociology,’ and most of them remain as fascinating potential raw materials, which need much more elaborations and mobilization to become useful and effective knowledge, as what Bourdieu called ‘ammunition’ for the relevant groups to advance their essential legitimate needs and interests. Generally, they lie entirely neglected in the basements of libraries. Such knowledge comes to be effective when it passes the complicated way of converting studies’ conclusions to responsible policy recommendations till it can be implemented in the field through a model of action research (Lewin 1943) or as Alain Touraine (1981) called it ‘sociological intervention.’ Then, this knowledge must be applied by this or another cooperation with the helped populations or their representatives. However, public sociology is different than common applied sociology because the sociologists in the public enterprise do not let themselves be captive in the direct questions and assumptions of any ‘customer’ and phrase their questions by themselves, even if they are deeply advising the relevant group members or their representatives through the process. Many direct and indirect definitions of public sociology include a sort of hidden assumption, through ordinal terms, that public sociology is intended to spread sociological findings and conclusions to ‘wider’ audiences and publics. That seemingly leads our mission as proponents of public sociology almost to questions of ‘spreading’ if not of ‘marketing,’ almost as if our mission is to seemingly achieve more student enrollments in our departments. Indeed, Hausknecht (2006) advised being aware that Gans (1989) suggested understanding public sociology just as 48

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an extension of our role as lecturers, while Burawoy was in his version much more activist. But actually, both versions are leading to a sort of sociological practice, as the aim being to change something outside there (if not to change an entire structure, at least to change an existing awareness). In his further notes, Gans (2009) wrote about ‘reaching’ different publics as public sociology by being relevant and useful for them. But the crucial point is to recognize that pubic sociology is no longer knowledge for the sake of knowledge (and not concerned with curiosity only) but knowledge the purpose of which in the first place is to make a change. Even extending the consciousness (of the relevant publics), which is an important stage in its turn in the general process, is not enough. In general terms, public sociology is knowledge that must be intended to be used for important (and responsible) changes for improving the well-being of certain populations. Indeed, such a mission may be ‘too big’ on the contemporary sociological enterprise, as noted already by John Hall (2005) with his ‘guarded welcome’ to this ambition. As well, it is not clear at all if there are enough incentives for sociologists to deal with this as was emphasized by David Brady (2004), even if this practice seems to be implemented generally by university employees (and of those in think tank institutes) as sociologists who are gaining their salaries and advancements by these institutes. Then certain involvement in such projects might become part of their institutional and academic requirements. Here is the place to emphasize that public sociology should include advising the social elites, mainly the social elites (when they are acting as serving elites), and not just helping the underclass directly as was pointed by Jonathan Turner (2005). Moreover, it seems that Burawoy’s suggestion to concentrate on civil society and to leave the state and the market to political scientists and to economists is unacceptable, as was pointed out by John Hall (2005). We have, as sociologists, in the appropriate fields, enough knowledge and enough questions to analyze important processes as well as to contribute to their improvement. Actually, it is reasonable to add to the public sociology spectrum almost all what psychologists do, through sociological terms of course, starting from general empowerment and by dealing with all those personal issues that have a clear significant social context (what Mills [1959] called ‘personal troubles’). Public sociology as such existed, as a vision of course, much before Michael Burawoy (2005b) and more precisely Herbert Gans (1989) started to use this term. That was already the vision of Auguste Comte who wondered already about the early social researchers of his time why they are separating between practical policy aims and basic or ‘academic’ sociology. Comte declared that this ‘modesty’ will become a curse on sociology as a profession (Aron 1965). Burawoy (2005a) emphasized in his context explanations, while recognizing three waves in the sociological enterprise, that even in the dominance of the middle wave, that of the empiricist quantitative sociologists like Howard Odum, Stuart Chapin and William Ogburn, they meant that their findings and conclusions will be implemented by the state, as laws and regulations, and not remain as knowledge for the sake of knowledge only (as it was asked already by Robert Lynd (1939) ‘knowledge for what?’ or ‘sociology for whom?’ by Lee Alfred McClung (1976). Furthermore, it is essential to remember Florian Znaniecki’s (1940) note  – that the ultimate examination of our theories is by their ability to solve life problems. Eventually, public sociology should become a need, from the field, actually from the public. However, we should look at it as such already now, as a vision and as an assumption for the future, when its effectiveness will be proven and recognized widely. The public – as different groups, sectors, organized category members and mainly those who are organized on the basis of unsolved problems and unsatisfied ambitions  – would and should ask sociologists to find solutions, as public sociology, by recognizing the changeable variables in their management and to find the ways to confront other groups or sectors who interfere through the possibility of 49

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achieving their legitimate aims. This is what Steele, Scarisbrick-Hauser, and Hauser (1998) called solution-centered sociology. Thus, both the initial questions to be answered and the ambitions to invite sociologists to meet them should come from the general public or from specific publics (who are aware, if at all, to the potential contribution of the professional sociologists who are specialized in their different fields). However, indeed, the sociologist is entirely not just a technician, nor just a ‘methodologist’ who knows how to collect data and to elaborate it, but who has the right and the duty to declare, in the needed cases, that the presented questions, as they were phrased initially, are perhaps not the correct questions (Shostak 2003) and has to redefine, together, in many cases, the deeper and the more accurate questions to be answered. In these cases, it is different than in the ordinary ‘applied sociology’ settings, when sociologists (mainly in organizational sociology) tend to be captive in the clients’ agenda. Actually, phrasing the operational questions according to the nominal ones deeply involves the sociologist’s education about contents and definitions and raising the correct categories, from his or her essential qualitative policy research, is even a deeper expression of his or her uniqueness as a sociologist who has the merits to employ public sociology. Unfortunately, however, this way of a natural development of public sociology is rare, and the more common way, if at all, is done by initiatives of academic sociologists (those who are employed seemingly just as scholars and lecturers in universities) who are identifying with these or other such groups (Ellor 2009), and by their own ambitions they are dealing with those problems, in terms of ‘involvement,’ looking for the changeable variables (Ellmers 1976; Peres and Carmon 1981) and offering policy (and behavioral) recommendations following their academic conclusions. As rare cases of asking for public sociology ‘from the field,’ we can remember the busing project of James Coleman et al. (1966) in the ’70s, who was asked by the US government to solve the problem of segregation in the educational system (which recognized the lack of organized transportation for Afro-American pupils from distant neighborhoods as a changeable variable concerning their opportunity to equal education in integrated high-level public schools). Unfortunately, it was an experience that ended with the effect known as the ‘white flight,’ emphasized by critics of that project, who recognized masses of white middle class families that left those areas during the following ten years, refusing to participate in that process in their own backyard. Another example is that of Peter Rossi (1980) who was invited by the US Congress to offer the needed policy changes following a natural disaster (his article about that was titled ‘After the Cleanup’). There are of course many less famous projects of organizational sociologists and others, who were invited as external specialists (or internal workers) to solve problems of motivation, satisfaction, team crystallization and efficiency in general, in many large-scale industrial and governmental organizations. Gans (2009) defines in his later version, what public sociology is and summarizes it in one word – ‘analysis.’ Such an analysis should reach certain publics and be, as mentioned, useful for them. But an analysis is the purpose of any ‘standard’ sociological activity (and we call it in other words a creation of a theory, an empirical middle-range theory of course, as identifying the causes or at least the correlations between different factors in the analyzed field. What does ‘analysis’ mean for a public when such knowledge reaches it? It means that the changeable variables in their situation, relating to unsatisfied ambitions and unsolved problems become clear – ready to be used for a struggle with those who ignore their legitimate needs, as emphasized by Bourdieu (2000). Here is, seemingly, the contribution of the sociological knowledge (now as public sociology) even if the way to the stage of making the change is still long, at least because these variables may be judged differently by different sets of values and local ethics, and while it 50

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might be identified against the hidden interests of those who understand the problems of such publics as solution for their problems in the first place, as was presented by Robert Merton (1968). Therefore, public sociology should not stop at too early a stage and must be continued till it comes to be, as mentioned, a solution-centered sociology, by analyzing and dealing with the internal price that has to be paid by the potential change and with the external challenges of any solution while using this or another revealed changeable variable. In other words, it should be not less than a prescription to success, as a sociological tool, or as a sociological ‘medication.’ The successful spread of the first waves of sociological medications will motivate many other publics to apply to sociologists, who can from outside academic institutes identify prescriptions for such difficulties and ambitions.

A needed chapter about changeable variables in each relevant sociological published study It is not a simple task to move from academic conclusions to policy and behavioral recommendations. In many academic ethics, there is the red line: we are committed to present conclusions but not offer any recommendations. On the other hand, as public sociology, it is essential. Presenting the changeable variables in any concrete study is just coming halfway. It is still a presentation of the findings and conclusions in a further step, but these are still not onedirectional recommendations; they might be presented – as many economists do – claiming that if this is what was supposed to be achieved, this is the way (or one way) to do that, according to the given data and circumstances. It is to present and explain the factors of the phenomenon – actually of an issue as a problem as the dependent variable – and recognizing those of the independent variables that might be changed in appropriate internal costs and by considering the reaction of the external environment. Anyway, employing any such variable in a real change process relating to the relevant population (and first among a pilot population) will be a procedure of trial and error (Etzioni 2005), which is parallel to action research. In many cases, we have only correlation variables, and not casual ones; this makes the problem more complicated and difficult. Seemingly presenting the changeable variables is just pointing them out from the correlation table or from the more complicated multi-regression schemes. But a similar evaluation must be done in such a chapter to the external factors, which might react and minimize the effect of the intended changed variable, taking into account Merton’s emphasis (at least in zero-sum game systems) that one side’s problem might be the solution for the other side, so that a reaction of this side, depending on its resources, might be unavoidable. The author of such a chapter must evaluate the potential of these ‘competitors,’ even before taking a side for whom such an intervention might and should be directed as possible recommendations. Thus, any sociologist, even ‘just’ as a researcher has the responsibility to build tools for potential changes.1 Of course, the sociological enterprise is extremely decentralized, and no one can enforce such a mandatory chapter. But it can be encouraged by the proponents of public sociology, including editors in the main sociological periodicals and be imitated by others. We know that many researchers are preparing such chapters concerning their academic studies and calling it ‘a political chapter,’ even if in a less systematic way, but avoiding to even send them to the intended periodicals. Sometimes, they are sending them differently as a sort of reports to the relevant population representatives or to their close colleagues only. Public sociology is presented in some publications just as a style of sociology. But a deeper definition should suggest that it might entirely turn over the definition of sociology: that sociology is not just a science that conducts studies but a change enterprise that is helped by and relies on conducting studies. The main sociological activity is creating empirical theories. But 51

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if we follow Kurt Lewin’s famous insight that ‘nothing is more practical than a good theory,’ we can say that a theory that is not practical enough is still not a good theory and needs to be corrected,2 just as public sociology might do to all the sociological enterprise. With this understanding, we return to Marx, with his note as a social philosopher, much before sociology was even established, that philosophers have only interpreted the world in different ways, while the point is to change it.

Notes 1 It was presented in the annual convention of the Israeli Sociological Association, at The Open University of Israel, January 2017, under the title ‘The Sociologist’s Responsibility to Create Tools for Change.’ 2 Presented at the annual sociological convention of Bar Ilan University, 2017.

References Aron, Raymond. 1965. Main Currents in Sociological Thought 1. New York: Penguin Books. Bourdieu, P. 2000. Propos Sur La Politique. Lyon: Presse Universitaire de Lyon. Brady, David. 2004. “Why Public Sociology May Fail?” Social Forces 82(4):1–10. Burawoy, Michael. 2005a. “Third-Wave Sociology and the End of Pure Science.” The American Sociologist:152–165, Fall–Winter. Burawoy, Michael. 2005b. “The Return of the Repressed: Recovering the Public Face of U.S. Sociology, One Hundred Years On.” The Annals of the American Academy:600. Coleman, James S., E.Q. Campbell, C. Hobson, R. McPartland, A. Mood, F. Weinfeld, and R. York. 1966. Equality of Educational Opportunities in Washington, D.C. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office. Ellmers, J.E. 1976. “To Explain Much or to Change Something: Strong Variables Versus Manipulable Variables.” Beleid en Maatschappij 3:281–290. Ellor, Aaron. 2009. “The Third Way of Sociology: The Qualities and the Boundaries of Involvement in Society Affairs among Israeli University Scholars with Sociological Orientation.” PhD Dissertation, Anglia Ruskin University. Etzioni, Amitai. 2005.“Bookmarks for Public Sociologists.” BJS: British Journal of Sociology 56(3):373–378. Gans, Herbert. 1989. “Sociology in America: The Discipline and the Public.” ASR: American Sociological Review 54:1–16. Gans, Herbert. 2009. “A Sociology for Public Sociology: Some Needed Disciplinary Changes for Creating Public Sociology.” Pp. 123–234 in Handbook of Public Sociology, edited by Vincent Jeffries. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield. Hall, A. John. 2005. “A Guarded Welcome.” BJS: British Journal of Sociology 56(3). Hausknecht, Murray. 2006. “Models of Public Sociology.” Footnotes, ASA 30(9). Lee, Alfred McClung. 1976. “Presidential Address: Sociology for Whom?” ASR: American Sociological Review 41:925–936. Lewin, K. 1943. “Psychological Ecology.” In Field Theory in Social Sicence, edited by D. Cartwright. London: Social Science Paperbacks. Lissak, Moshe and Ephrim Yuctmam. 1964. “The Pilot Cadet: Some Aspects of Role Analyses.” Megamot 13(2). Lynd, S. Robert. 1939. Knowledge for What? Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Merton, Robert. 1968. Social Theory and Social Structure. New York: The Free Press. Mills, C. Wright. 1959. The Sociological Imagination. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Peres, Yohanan and Naomi Carmon. 1981. “Challenges and Problems in Applied Sociology.” Megamot:375–389. (in Hebrew) Rossi, H. Peter. 1980. “The Presidential Address: The Challenge and Opportunities of Applied Social Research.” American Sociological Review 45:889–904. 52

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Shostak, B. Arthur. 2003. “Interventionist Work: ASA Internet Site, Careers in Clinical Sociology.” Retrieved January 2019 (www.asanet.org). Shoval, Judith. 2019. “Paradigm for a Systematic Analyses: The Uses of Anthropological Research.” Megamot 50(1). Steele, Stephen, Anne Marie Scarisbrick-Hauser, and William Hauser. 1998. Solution Centered Sociology: Addressing Problems Through Applied Sociology. London: Sage Publications. Touraine, Alain. 1981. A Method of Sociological Intervention. New York: Bdminster Press. Turner, H. Jonathan. 2005. “Is Public Sociology such a Good Idea?” The American Sociologist:27–45, Fall–Winter. Znaniecki, Florian. 1940. The Social Role of the Man of Knowledge. New York: Columbia University Press.

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5 From public sociology to collective knowledge production Youyenn Teo

In the late 1990s and early 2000s, when Michael Burawoy was championing ‘public sociology,’ I was a graduate student in the Sociology Department at Berkeley where he worked. The notion of sociology for a public – engaged in issues members of the public are concerned with, and in dialogue with publics through writings and other forms of communication – was very much in the ethos of the department. Apart from Burawoy, other professors, including those I worked closely with – Peter Evans, Raka Ray, Ann Swidler, Kim Voss – were engaged in such public sociology in one form or another. Beyond their own research, in the classes they and others at Berkeley taught, we were exposed to scholars whose concerns went beyond intellectual curiosity to ethical, political, civic engagements. Many fellow graduate students were deeply invested in social justice work of various forms in the San Francisco Bay Area and beyond. I was thus socialized to be a professional sociologist in a milieu where public sociology was something to aspire to and taken for granted as integral to the work of a sociologist. In the 15 years since graduation, this sensibility continues to loom large in my life as a sociologist in Singapore. Preparing to write this chapter, I  revisited Burawoy’s clarion call at the 2004 American Sociological Association Annual Meeting (Burawoy 2005) as well as responses to his arguments (Burawoy 2014b; Clawson et al. 2007). With some years between now and the heady years of graduate school, and the experience of being a professional academic and doing public sociology, I see on one hand how his call is more urgent than ever and, on the other, how the tensions embedded within this enterprise – as pointed out by critics as well as Burawoy himself – also seem more pertinent than ever. In particular, three interconnected issues with doing public sociology stand out: labor and its division, the effects of a dominant US sociology and the legitimacy of academic expertise. This chapter traces the terrain of doing public sociology in contemporary Singapore. I reflect on how these three issues shape the work of doing public sociology in this context and the more general challenges for the discipline my case illuminates.

Labor and its division Burawoy characterizes sociology as formed by four (ideal) types of scholarly labor and persons: policy, professional, critical and public. All four are necessary and should exist 54

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symbiotically – policy sociology speaks to specific predefined solution-seeking problems and is linked to particular funding agents such as governments; professional sociology focuses on advancing knowledge and academic publications, thereby establishing scientific rigor and professional legitimacy; critical sociology reflects on the enterprise of knowledge production and checks the discipline on its biases and blind spots; public sociology engages with the needs and problems of civil society and has the potential to establish sociology and sociologists as key players in generating truths and justice in confounding and unjust times. While his general argument implies that it is different people doing work in different quadrants, Burawoy also suggests that within the life course of a sociologist’s academic career, one can and should move around the quadrants. In response, Sharon Hays (2007) argues that Burawoy sidesteps the issue of hierarchies within the discipline across the four types. She worries the naming of public sociology as a category without addressing the dominance of a certain form of professional sociology will reify the belief that public sociology is not ‘good’ sociology  – that it is dumbed down, ideologically driven and thereby tainted. Patricia Hill Collins (2007) further wonders if naming public sociology will make it more difficult to those already doing it to keep doing the work, because the label can become a form of stigma and attached only to specific, and already more marginalized, members of the discipline. She worries too about institutionalization negatively altering the ethical values of actual practice, as boundary-making and professionalization are wont to do. Lynn Smith-Lovin (2007), from a different perspective – of valuing knowledge production for its own sake and with an instinct to protect the internal validation process of professional sociologists – is concerned that public sociology, if officially integrated into the discipline, will break it apart by imposing a burden of consensus around moral and political issues on which there are diverse and conflicting positions among sociologists. In Singapore, the deep and wide presence of the state further complicates these issues of intra-disciplinary hierarchy and normative consensus/discord. The Singapore government has been dominated by a single political party for six decades. It is a government that has monopolized economic, social and political space. Myriad areas of social life are regulated by state institutions through laws, regulations and policies; notably, governance is characterized by a combination of cultural and ideological hegemony with a monopoly over material resources (Chua 1995; Lim 2013; Low and Vadaketh 2014; Teo 2011). Singapore society is therefore deeply infused with the priorities, interests and worldviews of the People’s Action Party. Collective action and dissent outside state-sanctioned perimeters are difficult and indeed often illegal (Chua 2012; Rajah 2012). The university specifically, and knowledge production agents more generally, are not exempted from these conditions. In this context, sociologists (and humanities scholars and social scientists more generally) cannot avoid analyzing the state in their scholarship – it is always the largest and most significant elephant in the room. Correspondingly, analyses of the state, particularly those that involve critical scrutiny and travel outside the walls of academia, make for risky business. At this particular historical juncture, where the People’s Action Party is entering into its fourth generation of elite leadership and there is a sense that all is not well and yet that these leaders cannot be openly criticized, we see a tendency among the governing elite – both political office holders and civil servants – as well as among some of the public to crudely frame and label critical perspectives as anti-government/establishment. Doing public sociology – if public sociology is, as Burawoy argues, responsive to the needs and desires of ordinary people and civil society – places the public sociologist either under the safe wing of a particular state-sanctioned version of civil society or outside this very large wing in a small and exposed space. 55

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Within Singapore’s universities and research institutes, it is possible to place sociological scholarship and other forms of social science scholarship broadly into Burawoy’s four quadrants. And, as Hays, Collins and Smith-Lovin argue, hierarchies and tensions around normative positions abound. Importantly, in contrast to the United States, the differences between policy or professional sociology on one hand, and critical or public sociology on the other, are not merely about occupational prestige and resources. The hierarchies imply not just differential professional status or reward, but personal risk and cost. Critics of the Singapore state – including academics – can jeopardize jobs, tenure, grants and be publicly marginalized, discredited and stigmatized when they do work akin to public sociology (George 2017). Unsurprisingly, the sensibilities and worldviews of those who are closer to the policy or professional quadrants tend to be quite different from those who identify more with the critical or public quadrants. I recall a time running into someone whose work can be firmly categorized as policy sociology and his sarcastically asking me, ‘Oh, how’s the public sociologist?’ His disdain was not regarding the standing of my work within the discipline – since I am in some ways more ‘professional’ by virtue of having published in well-ranked international journals – nor was it because my work is in the public realm per se, since he and others like him regularly release public reports of their research, but in the implication that I am on the ‘wrong’ side by virtue of being critical of state policies and practices. Within the small group of academics who do work that can be construed as critical of the state, and who are interested in engaging the public or civil society outside of the state’s terms, there is a sense of our being marked and thereby discredited as ‘troublemakers.’ Ironically, apart from our own concerted efforts to get our work into the public sphere – through things like op-eds or non-academic books – we are not the scholars regularly contacted for quotes in the national media, even when our expertise is relevant; policy sociologists who are not ‘troublemakers’ access the public more easily than critical public sociologists do. The relationships among people who do research on Singapore society, then, are uneasy. The content of our scholarship is regularly oppositional rather than mutually beneficial and in collective service of further knowledge production. Particularly among those explicitly studying public policy, further tensions bubble around methodology – the usual arguments among sociologists regarding quantitative versus qualitative evidence, objectivity and subjectivity, positivism and interpretation map messily and yet somewhat predictably onto political sensibilities and ethical worldviews. It is difficult to construct a symbiotic relationship across different types of sociology and a functioning division of labor in service of building authority together. The division of labor is in some ways more accurately described as division of risk and perhaps even the creation of risk for some and the reduction of risk for others by virtue of each’s existence; the ‘good’ ones are rewarded by the state for their loyalty and the ‘bad’ ones hope they are at least not ‘rewarded’ with anything at all.

The effects of a dominant US sociology Where the first set of tensions is most pronounced between policy and public sociology, a second set is most salient between professional and public sociology. The typologies are useful here not so much for illuminating a division of labor, but for centering focus on the fact that there are different types of questions a scholar can ask. Moreover, what they do end up asking is shaped by the fields of power in which they operate and has consequences for how they in turn disrupt or perpetuate the rules of that field. Here, the dominant status of US sociology has a major effect on the specific articulations of professionalism in Singapore and the undermining of particular forms of knowledge production 56

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and dissemination. My insertion of the observation of US sociology as having specific effects, which Burawoy points to and Sari Hanafi (2011) and Judith Stacey (2007) echo and elaborate on, is to draw attention not to US sociological practice per se but to highlight that the presence of a massive external bloc – of academics, universities, publishers – serves the function of obscuring precisely the fact that there are different types of questions a scholar can ask and that these are shaped by the field of power in which they are located. When I returned from the United States to Singapore, I traveled from a place extreme in its self-confidence as the center of the world and the bearer of neutral, universal standards to a place extreme in its (elites’) sense of needing to look outward, westward in order to locate rankings to climb and thereby be legitimated as ‘First World.’ It was also a journey from a country in which the university is a site relatively independent of state governance to one where universities come under the direct and explicit ambit of the state and have specific missions for serving the national good (Holden 2019). In my decade of being on the tenure track and then tenured, I experienced an intensification of a particular form of professionalization within the university. The big-picture goal is to build Singapore universities to become ‘world class’ institutions (George 2018; Lim and Pang 2018). The means to this is to climb up various global rankings. The trickle-down effect at the level of practice is the hiring of graduates from high-status universities (particularly, US universities), the institutionalization of appraisal and evaluation indices to favor publications in journals with high impact factors (in many disciplines, this means US journals since its size means larger circulations and citations) and heavier emphasis on grants and publications over other activities a university professor might be involved in – including data collection, teaching and community engagements. From the perspective of the individual academic, particularly junior faculty, the writing on the wall is clear: publish or perish. But not just publish or perish, which American academics are also familiar with, but publish in journals whose audiences are not especially interested in non-US cases, or perish. Focus on securing major grants – many of which are given by the state and have narrowly defined frameworks – and focus on activities that give the best buck for your name on publications. Scholarship on a small country that US audiences have no reason to be especially interested in, scholarship that requires a researcher to be involved in nitty-gritty data collection, scholarship that requires some form of dialogic engagement with publics to figure out questions and frameworks, scholarship that may not have theoretical payoffs (from the perspective of US sociologists) but that add important descriptive detail to understandings of a case – none of these are rational priorities for junior faculty trying to hold on to jobs. Put simply, the quest for ‘world class’ status makes it irrational for scholars to study Singapore. As Sari Hanafi put it in the context of the Arab East: ‘publish globally and perish locally or publish locally and perish globally’ (Hanafi 2011). The professionalization of Singapore universities looks neutral – ‘world class’ implies objective standards  – but it pivots incentives away from certain kinds of scholarly orientations. It discourages the kind of work that a society needs in order to understand itself better – questions that get at some level of specificity of a case and that are difficult to theorize at more abstract levels; questions that need to be formulated through engagement with questions that other knowledge producers, including outside academia, are asking about a society. It pivots away, indeed, from the kind of work that many American sociologists do for their own society, including in the quadrants that fall outside of critical and public sociology. In a country with a population of less than six million, there is a correspondingly small number of sociologists (and other scholars) in Singapore. As the orientation intensifies toward the United States – which is actually incidental to the story except in the existence of its massive 57

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and monopolistic academic publishing machinery – it becomes harder for the few academics who persist along this irrational route to build and accumulate knowledge. The world-classing professionalization that is supposed to lead to better, more rigorous scholarship, then, has the opposite effect of limiting the range of questions scholars ask and stunting the growth of diverse approaches, methodologies and theories. By virtue of being limited in size, as well as outnumbered by the academics who play by rather than circumvent the rules of the game, the doing of public sociology – unavoidably local, or at least with no reason to be US-centric – cannot harness sufficient momentum to disrupt the field of power. The specific articulations of US sociology’s dominance into a neutral form – world class, global university, international standards – has made it difficult to see that we are, in the process of building this ‘world class’ university, suffocating certain forms of knowledge production. The presence of a giant influences this field of power in knowledge production, but the agents moving levers in place are very much domestic, located within Singapore’s institutions of higher education, including our own ministry of education. To what extent do decision-makers driving these developments understand that these pivots shift away from questions critical and public sociology, might ask? Well, that is an empirical question to which we – because not enough are asking – have no answers.

The legitimacy of academic expertise The particular manifestations of division of labor and the effects of a dominant US sociology in the Singapore context illustrate that what is at stake is a more general struggle for legitimacy. Who has the right to engage with and speak about public issues, and on what basis? In Burawoy’s conception of the four quadrants, the division of labor is a solution. Sociologists have the potential to bring about ameliorative social change precisely because there are different types of sociological labor. To effect actual change, sociologists need to be heard. To be heard, they need to have legitimate authority. It is here that public sociology relies on professional sociology for its labor in upholding the processes and standards that give the discipline its imprimatur of science – characterized by rigor and political neutrality. On this, Douglas Massey (2007) and Frances Fox Piven (2007) argue with Burawoy – the former critiquing him for going too far and the latter critiquing him for not going far enough. Massey argues that the inclusion of public sociology into the work of the professional association of sociologists will undermine the impact of sociologists when they want to lend their voices to influence decisions. For him, the work of public sociology is more impactful if conducted separately from sociologists’ professional research and insofar as they act as individual experts rather than as a collective professional body. Piven argues that the talk of public sociology is merely going back to the roots of sociological inquiry and that in the historical institutionalization of the profession, what has happened is that sociologists have become overly invested in seeking position, influence and funding. What they have produced is not better and more neutral knowledge but knowledge that serves the interests of elites to the detriment of the marginalized. Professional sociology, in Piven’s perspective, may bring legitimacy to sociologists but only if your idea of legitimacy is approval from above. From where does legitimate authority to speak on matters of public concern emanate in the Singapore context? It is perhaps instructive to think in Weberian terms. As I point out, there is a particular orientation toward the United States as the bearer of standards; this has translated into the favoring of degrees from some universities over others. On some level, then, there are important trappings of legitimacy embedded in the ‘right’ formal credentials. Where people receive their PhDs, and particularly whether they attended elite institutions in the United 58

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States, is crucial information in Singapore when it comes to weighing how seriously someone’s ideas are taken. Employment in universities also matters; there is some hierarchy among institutions, but this is small, given that there are only six universities, and so other forms of distinction become more consequential – rank (assistant/associate/full – professor); administrative/leadership roles (dean/chair, etc.). Disciplinary hierarchies within the humanities and social sciences matter in similar ways as they do in the United States insofar as the expertise of economists are valued more highly over everyone else’s. Lawyers too have a high level of prestige. But cracks to formal rationality appear as soon as you look more closely at who else occupies the halls of academia and airtime in public discourse as ‘experts.’ Here, we see people whose credentials are not PhDs from universities, whose careers are not in education and research, whose CVs are not populated with peer-reviewed publications occupying key roles in universities as well as shaping public discourse as ‘public intellectuals.’ They are retired from institutions of the state – diplomats, members of parliament, senior management in the civil service, heads of government-linked corporations. Apart from legitimate authority drawn from formal rationality, then, there are important forms of legitimate authority that look closer to Weber’s traditional type – in which authority is granted to loyal subjects directly by rulers. The simultaneous presence of different types of legitimacy – forms that draw from different sources, disrupting the line from rigorous empirical research to informed expert opinion – has the cumulative effect of undermining the status of empirical evidence. It disrupts the authority that potentially emanates from public appreciation of the logics of inquiry and validation embedded in humanities and social science research. Put more crudely, if anyone with an academic-institutional title can speak, and if those titles are not necessarily connected to any rigorous research program or even research training, then the overall value of research is undermined. In these conditions, navigating the path of legitimacy is a walk on a tightrope, and the elephant in the room can hold you there or knock you off. In such a context, protecting the legitimacy of one’s work by separating the labor of professional research from the labor of public engagement is effective only if the valence of one’s work weighs in specific political directions. We are back to the problem of the tainting effects of being labeled anti-establishment troublemakers, this time acknowledging that a degree from Oxford or Harvard or Berkeley are talismans until they are not. Perhaps this is precisely Piven’s point: that the question of legitimacy is ultimately a question about legitimacy in whose eyes. The sociologist who wants their work to have impact in shaping the world must ask: to whom should I speak? Whose ears do I want if I want to be a part of ameliorative social change? Your desired audience – who you hope will respond to your expertise – in turn depends on where you think the levers of change lie. Who will change the world with you? Here, I think Piven, and Burawoy as well, want public sociology’s work to extend beyond just going to where existing levers of change are and trying to turn them there. For them, public sociology should actively shift the levers of change – away from the powerful toward the marginalized. A decade and a half after graduating from Berkeley, the challenge and promise of public sociology continues to animate my work and dominate my dreams. I am now a tenured professor, heading a department of sociology. I have worked hard maintaining two lives – one within the academy, jumping through the hoops befitting a ‘world class’ university so that I can keep my job; one outside the academy, building allies and trying to make my work relevant to society so that I can keep my soul. The two lives, not always easy to live in and align, have ultimately complemented each other well. Besides drawing the strengths Burawoy pointed to of professional and public sociology – one building rigorous standards of the academic craft, the other building dynamic engagement with the needs of the real world – traversing the two worlds has helped me dodge the tunnel-vision that can come from being overly immersed in a singular 59

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lifeworld with its own set of rules, norms, logics. There have been a lot of voices around me, and because they are demanding varying things, I can hear the discordant cacophony and ultimately find my own. The desire to lead the bifurcated life, as well as the theoretical tools I have had for navigating challenges, was made possible, in retrospect, partly by Burawoy’s naming of public sociology as that which deserves a proper seat at the table. When local conditions in Singapore did not encourage me in this direction, particularly insofar as the considerable risks of irking the state were present in both the lives I was leading, I looked to ethical orientation and psychological validation elsewhere – within my social networks from graduate school; in the writings of people doing public sociology in and outside of the academy; and, to some extent, despite my feelings of exclusion from the US-centric American Sociological Association (ASA), to the ASA itself. In 2013, I won the American Sociological Association Sex and Gender Section’s Feminist Scholar Activist Award. I have no way of knowing its actual effects as a talisman for legitimation, but I certainly wore it in my mind as one. Three years ago, in January 2018, post tenure, I published a book of essays, This Is What Inequality Looks Like (Teo 2018). Writing a book that purposefully turns away from a ‘global’ academic audience; publishing it with a small local literary press; honing in on a ‘public’ audience whose scale and boundaries were as yet unknown; naming and critiquing the contours of a powerful state to this imagined audience (if I build it, will they come? Who will come?) – the project was the culmination of ten years of doing public sociology and 20 years of dreaming it. Because of the success of the book, perhaps no one but me really sees this now: it was equal parts experience and naiveté, audacity and recklessness. The book propelled onto the national nonfiction bestseller list; it is mentioned regularly in various public media; it has sold more than 35,000 copies to date; it got me listed on various 2018 year-end media round-ups and as a finalist for a Singaporean of the Year Award ‘for igniting a national conversation on poverty and inequality’ (Rashith 2018). It put my name squarely in the consciousness of the political elite and my email address in the hands of their secretaries. I am compelled to think and rethink what it is to do public sociology.

Labor: building communities of knowledge producers The division of labor problem, as I have suggested, is extremely challenging. The small size of Singapore sociology and the looming presence of the state and its apologists mean that it is not just labor but also risks that are distributed unevenly. To keep doing critical work, including labor that extends outside the academy  – risking professional advancement and considerable personal fatigue – public sociology needs more warm bodies. A number of things may add up to a solution. First, sociologists cannot work alone, and public sociology needs to extend to become public social science and humanities. This entails building relationships and engaging one another’s work across disciplinary boundaries. The small size of this country can be used to our advantage. The bigger barrier may be the time pressures people feel in the university. Academics must thus find opportunities within existing professional activities to incorporate this priority, such as curating panels of conferences or conducting literature reviews more deliberately. It could mean, since the purpose is more than interdisciplinarity per se but the extension of public engagement across disciplines, extending invitations to civil society events to more people outside of one’s discipline. Academics already engaged with civil society need to make more effort to bring others in. Second, to build critical mass, cross-generational solidarity must be forged. There are Singapore scholars in training still yet to enter academia. Many already wonder if they should do 60

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critical work true to the various academic traditions they are in  – geography, anthropology, history and so on, and not just sociology. Some are contemplating this question along with the question of whether to return to Singapore at all. Academics further along in professional careers need to make concerted efforts to encourage these younger scholars. Sometimes, this might require holding back one’s own cynicism and despair – to say ‘Oh this cannot be done’ to oneself is a personal prerogative, but to say it to others, particularly to others to whom one is an authority figure, is to do irresponsible damage to future possibilities of change. Building a critical mass of public sociology (broadly defined) also requires explicit discussion of the state and its encroachment on intellectual labor. This may not immediately solve problems, but it demystifies state power and separates real risks from imagined threats so that people can make better, more empirically sound decisions about which risks to take and when and how. Naming actors and acts, calling out the contours of power and inequalities – the bread and butter of sociological inquiry – is key to unpacking individual experiences, establishing patterns and shattering atomism and building solidarity. These are the beginnings of breaking power’s grip around individual necks. Third, academics need to be more reflexive about and shed their sense of superiority to other producers of knowledge. As we do, we will see that there are alliances to build in the larger purpose of engaging public audiences. Burawoy points to a division of labor within the discipline; we should imagine a division of labor that extends beyond it. In the past two years, for example, I have worked with theater practitioners who are also interested in the issues of poverty and inequality.1 Their modes of knowledge production and transmission are different from mine, and it is precisely in these differences that my relatively smaller investment in the last mile of dialogic engagement with audiences is bolstered by their work, and their relatively smaller investment in primary data collection is bolstered by mine. In the process of working together, we each discover new questions to ask and new perspectives and thinking tools that contribute to the longer trajectory of our separate and collective labor. Where Burawoy’s vision, looking from within a large contingent of professional sociologists, does not extend much toward non-academic knowledge producers, I, standing on a small island, am compelled quickly to see that thinking more generally in terms of knowledge producers, and not just sociologists or even just academics, can help public sociology. Embedding ourselves in a wider community of knowledge producers – theater-makers, writers, filmmakers, photographers, journalists, activists – can deepen and widen our questions, analytical tools and answers. If sociology leaves the academy, not just when it seeks to disseminate its knowledge but in the process of producing its knowledge – engaging and co-creating it with other types of knowledge producers – we may expand our understanding of the social world, appreciate the limitations of our discipline and take up and cede space in ways that enhance the overall value of public engagement.

Building legitimacy from the ground up That academics are reluctant to travel out of the academy is partly related to the desire to protect our authority. The problem of US dominance I named earlier – with specific Singapore contours – is, of course, more appropriately conceptualized as the hegemony of narrow professionalism that several responses to Burawoy – Hays (2007) and Glenn (2007) among them – emphasize. It is a problem tightly tethered to the quest for legitimacy. In Singapore, much of the securing of legitimacy is systematized and depends on the anointment of material titles and positions by institutions. But as I have tried to show, much of it is less formal than appears and indeed dependent more on anointment from above, from state actors. 61

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This suggests that legitimacy is slippery space, where criteria and process are not stable. This is a space of risk, but it can also be a site of possibility. The success of my book was a shock. It took everyone by surprise. From where did my authority to speak come? In the first instance, it was, of course, my formal credentials and institutional position. Without these, I would not have been able to publish the book at all; as an unknown name to most, it would have been hard to get the book picked up. But beyond my formal credentials, two other things are important to note: first, although the degree of its success was a surprise, I would not have written a book for a public audience at all if I had zero evidence it existed and no track record of engaging with a public audience. By the time I published this book, I had been writing op-eds for a decade.2 I had published essays in books aimed at non-academic audiences and given public lectures. I  had spent time in conversation with various members of civil society. Soon after the book was published, there was a core group that very quickly picked up on it, talked about it, spread the word and shared it with others. With hardly any marketing, word of the book spread quickly. Drawing from my experience writing op-eds, and relying on the wisdom and support of a small but tight community of friends and allies within and outside academia, I could quickly respond to attempts to reframe or misconstrue my message. The overall outcome was that the book was able to travel intact, without being misconstrued much, and with limited challenge to my right to speak. Part of legitimacy building, I  saw, comes about through regular and long-term encounters with publics  – it is partly about establishing a track record of engagement in public issues and partly about building trust among core groups with especially closely related interests. This base, in being the first champions of the book, helped build legitimacy around it. Relatedly, a second thing to note and perhaps especially encouraging as we think of how to do public sociology in a world where the legitimacy of expertise and intellectuals is under assault: as the book traveled, I watched it create an audience appreciative of ethnography. I included in the book an appendix titled ‘This Is What Data Looks Like’ in which I discuss knowledge production as process, ethnography as methodology and the use of ordinary people’s experiences as data. Throughout the book, I described where I stood, what I saw, how I interpreted, what I felt. Again, equal parts audacity and recklessness; at the end of the process of writing, I was so depleted I thought I might need to hide for the next ten years. But there was a major payoff to this exposing of the craft and the self: as the year progressed, I saw that in public discourse, there now circulated a wider set of vocabularies for thinking about what research – and particularly ethnographic research – is, and what it can do. As people understood and appreciated my approach, they were willing to judge it on its terms. As the weeks turned into months, the book stayed on the bestseller list, and the issues of poverty and inequality stuck in public consciousness. Official critiques of my work appeared, and reporters who had been regularly contacting me stopped. This is the point where usually, by virtue of being out of favor with the elite, one’s legitimacy can be undermined. Instead, the book kept flying off shelves, I kept receiving fan mail and, most importantly, people – ordinary members of the public – kept talking about the ethnography, about the details they read that stuck with them. I started to see and hear sociological frames and vocabularies in other people’s comments and work; details about living with poverty, about the everyday experiences of inequality showed up – very often without explicit reference to me. The legitimacy of the book, and the sociology in it, had separated itself from the legitimacy of me as a person, and this – because shade is more easily thrown at one person than at multiple ideas – seemed to enhance the impact of my work. Building legitimacy for sociology or other forms of knowledge, then, can come about from building, brick by brick, with public audiences, understanding of the knowledge production process and its limitations.

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What created a deep sense of vulnerability as I was doing it, insofar as it felt like the surrendering of professorial authority, turned out to enhance it.

Dreaming alternatives There is a final problem I have not thus far discussed but which has been on my mind as audiences encountering my book relentlessly ask: what now? What do we do now that we have seen the problem? Michael Burawoy, in his rejoinder to his critics, argues more forcefully for seeing contemporary sociology as sitting at a critical historical moment in which the forces of marketization are wreaking more havoc than ever on how humans live. Public sociology, and what he calls a third wave of sociology as discipline, must step up, or it ‘may as well be dead’ (Burawoy 2014b). The problems of the world – massive inequality, displacement of persons from homes, the erosion of human dignity and rights, impending climate disaster – require fundamental rethinking and reconfigurations of how we exist (Burawoy 2014a). Framed in these global terms, and recognizing that academics are typically better analysts than dreamers, the quest to build critical mass and alternative sources of legitimacy are tremendously urgent. To go from analysis of the past and present to alternatives in the future, we need to work with people who know how to dream. The labor of building ideas about alternatives is labor that requires the creativity and expertise of many and cannot be limited to the narrow confines of professional knowledge producers. Moreover, bringing about alternatives that enhance human dignity and well-being requires social solidarity. If the levers of change are indeed to be with ordinary people, shifted away from elites, then these people cannot be a bunch of isolated, atomized individuals. They must know how to see and act as collectives. Even as the building of communities of publics is directed toward specific issues or projects at any given time, they are also essential to the longer-term cultivation of social ties necessary for bringing about significant change. We are still talking about public sociology in the discipline today – this edited collection still needs to exist – because we as a discipline are still trying to figure out what the hell we are doing existing in this world, doing this work, calling ourselves sociologists. My training at Berkeley means that US sociology lives in my head and infuses my work. Michael has been a major influence in my life, and it is hard to think about public sociology without simply trying to walk behind him. In reflecting on my life after Berkeley, I see anew how bold and important his vision was, how it carved out a path for those of us who came to sociology precisely because we wanted to be part of the world rather than apart from it. I also see, however, that stepping away from Berkeley, living in tension with US sociology, compelled me to turn to a separate lifeworld that may yet hold lessons for sociologists in the United States. The work of public sociology requires sociologists to position ourselves in a larger ecology of knowledge-producers – we have to find and create communities and bring others in the academy along; we have to stretch across generational divides; we have to do collective knowledge production not only at the point of knowledge dissemination but also at the point of conceptualization and production. The division of labor must go beyond the four quadrants. In a world where our expertise is suspect, we have to build our own communities of legitimacy-granters and create legibility for our work outside the usual anointers of legitimacy. The labor of doing public sociology is collective labor, entailing time to create knowledge and solidarity, involving bodies in and out of the academy. Doing this messy work, I hope we may yet find tools not just for analyzing, but also for dreaming.

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Notes 1 See https://peerpleasure.org. 2 For a partial list, see https://teoyouyenn.sg.

References Burawoy, Michael. 2005. “For Public Sociology.” American Sociological Review 70(1):4–28. Burawoy, Michael. 2014a. “Sociology as a Vocation: Moral Commitment and Scientific Imagination.” Current Sociology 62(2):279–284. Burawoy, Michael, ed. 2014b. Current Sociology Special Issue – Precarious Engagements: Combat in the Realm of Public Sociology 62(2). Chua, Beng Huat. 1995. Communitarian Ideology and Democracy in Singapore. London and New York: Routledge. Chua, Lynette J. 2012. “Pragmatic Resistance, Law, and Social Movements in Authoritarian States: The Case of Gay Collective Action in Singapore.” Law & Society Review 46(4):713–748. Clawson, Dan, Robert Zussman, Joya Misra, Naomi Gerstel, Randall Stokes, and Douglas L. Anderton, eds. 2007. Public Sociology: Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Profession in the Twenty-First Century. Berkeley: University of California Press. Collins, Patricia Hill. 2007. “Going Public: Doing the Sociology That Had No Name.” Pp. 101–113 in Public Sociology: Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Profession in the Twenty-First Century, edited by D. Clawson, R. Zussman, J. Misra, N. Gerstel, R. Stokes, and D. L. Anderton. Berkeley: University of California Press. George, Cherian. 2017. Singapore, Incomplete: Reflections on a First World Nation’s Arrested Political Development. Singapore: Woodsville News. George, Cherian. 2018. “Singapore’s Powerhouses Neglect Local Intellectual Life.”Times Higher Ed. Retrieved (www.timeshighereducation.com/features/singapores-powerhouses-neglect-local-intellectual-life). Glenn, Evelyn Nakano. 2007. “Whose Public Sociology? The Subaltern Speaks, but Who Is Listening?” Pp. 213–230 in Public Sociology: Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Profession in the TwentyFirst Century, edited by D. Clawson, R. Zussman, J. Misra, N. Gerstel, R. Stokes, and D.L. Anderton. Berkeley: University of California Press. Hanafi, Sari. 2011. “University Systems in the Arab East: Publish Globally and Perish Locally vs Publish Locally and Perish Globally.” Current Sociology 59(3):291–309. Hays, Sharon. 2007. “Stalled at the Altar? Conflict, Hierarchy, and Compartmentalization in Burawoy’s Public Sociology.” Pp. 79–90 in Public Sociology: Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Profession in the Twenty-First Century, edited by D. Clawson, R. Zussman, J. Misra, N. Gerstel, R. Stokes, and D.L. Anderton. Berkeley: University of California Press. Holden, Philip. 2019. “Spaces of Autonomy, Spaces of Hope: The Place of the University in Post-Colonial Singapore.” Modern Asian Studies 53(2):451–482. Lim, Linda. 2013. “Singapore’s Success: After the Miracle.” Pp. 203–226 in Handbook of Emerging Economies, edited by R. Looney. London: Routledge. Lim, Linda and Eng Fong Pang. 2018. “How Singapore’s Obsession with University Rankings Only Serves to Hurt It.” South China Morning Post. Retrieved (www.scmp.com/week-asia/opinion/ article/2178967/how-singapores-obsession-university-rankings-only-serves-hurt-it). Low, Donald and Sudhir Vadaketh. 2014. Hard Choices: Challenging the Singapore Consensus. Singapore: NUS Press. Massey, Douglas S. 2007. “The Strength of Weak Politics.” Pp. 145–157 in Public Sociology: Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Profession in the Twenty-First Century, edited by D. Clawson, R. Zussman, J. Misra, N. Gerstel, R. Stokes, and D.L. Anderton. Berkeley: University of California Press. Piven, Frances Fox. 2007. “From Public Sociology to Politicized Sociologist.” Pp. 158–166 in Public Sociology: Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Profession in the Twenty-First Century, edited by D.

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Clawson, R. Zussman, J. Misra, N. Gerstel, R. Stokes, and D.L. Anderton. Berkeley: University of California Press. Rajah, Jothie. 2012. Authoritarian Rule of Law: Legislation, Discourse and Legitimacy in Singapore. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Rashith, Rahimah. 2018. “The Straits Times Singaporean of the Year 2018 – Teo You Yenn: Bringing Inequality to Forefront of Discussions.” The Straits Times. Retrieved (www.straitstimes.com/singapore/ bringing-inequality-to-forefront-of-discussions). Smith-Lovin, Lynn. 2007. “Do We Need a Public Sociology? It Depends on What You Mean by Sociology.” Pp. 124–134 in Public Sociology: Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Profession in the Twenty-First Century, edited by D. Clawson, R. Zussman, J. Misra, N. Gerstel, R. Stokes, and D.L. Anderton. Berkeley: University of California Press. Stacey, Judith. 2007. “If I Were the Goddess of Sociological Things.” Pp. 91–100 in Public Sociology: Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Profession in the Twenty-First Century, edited by D. Clawson, R. Zussman, J. Misra, N. Gerstel, R. Stokes, and D.L. Anderton. Berkeley: University of California Press. Teo, Youyenn. 2011. Neoliberal Morality in Singapore: How Family Policies Make State and Society. London and New York: Routledge. Teo, Youyenn. 2018. This Is What Inequality Looks Like. Singapore: Ethos Books.

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Section III

Methodological choices in public sociology

The next section examines different methodological styles used to conduct public sociology. These methodological approaches can most usefully be categorized as participatory action research, research for sociologists practicing outside of academia and community-based participatory research. Participatory action research and community-based participatory research typically involve the researcher working within communities, as described by Cossyleon and Spitz, Vanderminden and Waity and Mobley. Diana takes a different approach, as his research focuses on the value of implementing sociological methods outside of academia. Although different topics are discussed, this section highlights the importance of developing a methodological approach centralized around working with the communities under study. Further, it is important to acknowledge that whether working within the academy or outside of the academy, a methodological standard is necessary for public sociology research.

6 Collaborating, then stepping back Doing public sociology through participatory action research Jennifer E. Cossyleon and Gina Spitz

The authors would like to thank Community Organizing and Family Issues (COFI) staff, and Parents Organized to Win, Educate and Renew Policy Action Council (POWER-PAC) parent leaders who participated in the Participatory Action Research presented in this chapter.



Many people asked me: ‘What are you going to do with these surveys?’ I would tell them we are trying to help people get out of debt. They would say ‘We are glad someone wants to help us.’ Rosita, POWER-PAC, Parent Leader (quote translated from Spanish)

The primary aim of this chapter is to share the step-by-step process of a community grounded participatory action research (PAR) study, from the perspective of two university researchers involved (authors).1 The study had a twofold goal: to (1) understand the prevalence and impact of economic debt and (2) use findings to advocate for policy changes in Illinois around debt and poverty relief for lower-income families. Researchers affiliated with Loyola University Chicago’s Center for Urban Research and Learning (CURL) collaborated with Community Organizing and Family Issues (COFI), a long-standing community partner organization, for the first part of this goal. Then CURL researchers stepped back for the dissemination of research findings and advocacy work, which was implemented by COFI and its parent membership communityorganizing group called Parents Organized to Win, Educate, and Renew Policy Action Council (POWER-PAC). POWER-PAC, primarily composed of Black and Latina mothers and grandmothers, has led and won racial and economic justice community-organizing campaigns since 2003 in Chicago and across the state. The project centered on a community survey to document the ‘state of debt’ among the communities where COFI leaders lived, which are largely divested communities of color in Chicago and across other parts of Illinois. COFI leaders and CURL researchers collaboratively

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created a bilingual survey (in English and Spanish), which asked questions about the amounts, types and some of the consequences of debt in people’s lives. Rosita,2 quoted at the beginning of this chapter, was one of the many COFI parent leaders3 involved in this study. Her thoughts are telling of the forward-looking research design that in many ways gave the study unprecedented access to very personal household and financial information. This was made possible largely because of the already established trust among COFI leaders and survey respondents, as well as the action-oriented plan to ameliorate everyday people’s experiences with debt. Through this process, parent leaders reported feeling a sense of power to change the policies that kept their families in debt and/or to do something to spread awareness about the pervasiveness of debt in their communities. This PAR study aligns with the foundations set forth by some public sociologists and scholars in other fields across the country who seek to ensure not only that research makes a difference, but also that everyday community members are part of the process and discovery of new forms of knowledge.

Public sociology Michael Burawoy’s presidential address at the 2004 annual meeting for the American Sociological Association (ASA) outlines some main aspects of the ‘organic’ (versus traditional) public sociological approach that we used in this project. In his speech, Burawoy describes organic public sociology as a process of dialog and mutual education where sociologists work closely with a ‘visible, thick, active, local, and often counter-public’ (Burawoy 2005:7–8, as cited in Nichols 2009:29). Organic public sociology is complementary yet distinct from traditional public sociology, in that researchers directly collaborate with people to do research – social movement actors, neighborhood associations, faith communities and the like – whereas traditional public sociology informs the general public without this type of collaboration. While critics, such as Jonathan H. Turner, argue that Burawoy’s vision of public sociology lacks scientific objectivity and therefore serves as a detriment to the field of sociology as a whole, he admits Burawoy’s vision clearly draws the connection between public sociology and moral struggles (Turner 2005). We see public and moral struggles as central to our PAR action-oriented project. On the other hand, we depart from the four typologies presented by Burawoy (2004) (professional sociology, policy sociology, critical sociology and public sociology) by blending policy sociology, which ‘focuses on solutions to specific problems defined by clients’ (1608), and public sociology, which engages in ‘publics beyond the academy in dialogue about matters of political and moral concern’ (1607). Burawoy argues these two types in particular should be distinguished because, while public sociology is about reciprocal engagement, policy sociology is essentially a contracted service by the client, such that there is no true independence for the researcher. In policy sociology, according to Burawoy, the power is necessarily then ceded to the client. The COFI-CURL research project highlighted in this chapter demonstrates how the blending of policy and public sociology within a PAR approach, enhanced all part of the research, offering powerful evidence for a grassroots organizing campaign. Silvia Cataldi’s proposal to blend public sociology with participatory approaches to ‘democratize’ social science research resonates with the research design for our study. Cataldi (2014) outlines three main considerations that guide this blended approach: ‘recognizing the specific contribution of each person towards the co-construction of research, appreciating research contributions by the “social actor” across as many areas of the project as is appropriate given the actor’s abilities and limitations, and reflexive practice by the sociologist toward expertise and as another kind of participant in social change’ (168).

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Participatory action research Our version of the participatory action research (PAR) as policy and public sociology involves a collaboration between community members and researchers to develop and answer community-relevant research questions (Leavy 2017; Mirra, Garcia, and Morrell 2015; Whyte 1991). PAR does not seek to advance the questions and careers of academics, but rather, to address inquiries that are democratic and community based through evolving collaboration with the goal of informing and advancing social change action (Spencer 2017; Stoecker 1999). We recognize long-standing disagreement in the field regarding the term, definition and action component of PAR (see Stoecker 1999). However, for the purposes of this chapter, we emphasize two key methodological elements within PAR: community members are intricately involved in the process, and research activities are shared. This blurs the lines between researchers and research participants. As William Foote Whyte (1991) writes regarding PAR: ‘the researcher must be willing to relinquish the unilateral control that the professional researcher has traditionally maintained over the research process’ (241). Over the past several decades, there have been many publications about PAR models, often written by scholars and community members who have engaged in some way with this type of research. These writings highlight the benefits and obstacles of PAR, with considerable emphasis on the former. Prior work documents the benefits of PAR for communities, universities, academia and academics’ personal fulfillment. First, community members who engage in PAR often gain transferable research skills and recognize their own capacity and power to create change in their neighborhoods (Mirra and Rogers 2016; Mirra et al. 2015). Second, universities that employ faculty who engage in PAR are often enthusiastic about the existence of ongoing universitycommunity relationships they can showcase (Mirra and Rogers 2016). Third, PAR broadens the scope of academic knowledge. As Mirra et  al. (2015) suggest, the purpose of academic writing that stems from PAR is to include historically marginalized voices within scholarly conversations. And last, PAR models allow researchers to have often fulfilling connections with community members – connections that often lead researchers to engage in PAR with little or no institutional support and or funding (Mirra and Rogers 2016). At the same time, along with limited funding for PAR projects, several other challenges have been raised by academics. For example, power dynamics between researchers and community members could translate into researchers coming to an uneven table having already decided key components of the project (Roe et al. 1997). Moreover, if clear project visions and or memorandums of understanding are not established in the early stages of a partnership, disagreements between researchers and community members can arise, particularly regarding the dissemination of findings or the appropriate policy-related action derived from PAR projects (Minkler 2004). Lastly, given that academic publications are de-prioritized within PAR, with an emphasis instead on campaign materials, community reports, murals or other forms of art, researchers – particularly early-career scholars – may have a harder time adhering to traditional tenure-track requirements (Raynor 2019; Kindon, Pain, and Kesby 2007). Despite these and other barriers, the field has made some progress toward supporting scholars who conduct public sociology. A  recent American Sociological Association (ASA) subcommittee report urges university departments to recognize the contributions of scholars by assessing their ‘public engagement’ in decisions for tenure and promotion. Nonetheless, the ‘gold standard’ is still a peer-reviewed academic journal publication (McCall et al. 2016). As Katrina Raynor (2019) suggests, despite the practical and career-related barriers involved with PAR and other forms of public sociology, scholars should ‘do it anyway.’ Academic researchers

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need to advocate for PAR methods and re-think what constitutes “scholarly activity” and the ethics of creating research that matters’ (Raynor 2019:133). Doing so could lead to more collaborative studies to help inform our society about pertinent social issues.

COFI, POWER-PAC and CURL survey collaboration Case background COFI and CURL’s collaboration was one iteration of a longer-term action research partnership. Besides doing PAR and public sociology research and evaluation projects together for several years, starting in 2014, the Chicago Foundation for Women (CFW) funded a workshop series for a group of grantee organizations including COFI. CURL led this workshop series, which aimed to build grantee organizations’ capacity to do evaluation and research on their programs and clients in ways that could inform policy change. Gaining these research skills meant that organizations could leverage their own data and conduct evaluations and research projects that could speak to larger policy concerns affecting their member communities. Subsequently, through a request for proposal (RFP) process, grantees could also apply to partner one-on-one with CURL on the development and implementation of a policy-oriented research project. COFI and CURL collaborated on the application and secured funds to begin to develop such a research project. The present survey project arose from a previous community survey and community listening sessions led by COFI and POWER-PAC in 2015 and early 2016. Through this general survey and several community listening sessions, COFI and POWER-PAC members learned about pertinent community issues on the south and west sides of Chicago. Families also discussed some of their barriers to economic security for themselves and their families. Community members at these meetings expressed that their debt made them feel like they would be digging out of a deep hole forever and that their debt was holding them down. Based on these discussions and the broader community survey results, COFI and POWER-PAC decided to focus specifically on debt as the most important economic issue. The survey became part of POWER-PAC’s ongoing Stepping Out of Poverty community-organizing campaign.

Survey instrument creation With the larger goal of influencing policy regarding the multiple challenges that debt created for parents and their families, CURL researchers worked with COFI staff and with parent organizers on creating a survey specifically on debt. The aim of the survey was to collect data on COFI members’ and their communities’ demographic information, their sources and quantities of income, the financial services they utilized, their level of savings and other financial health indicators, their quantities and types of debt and the financial and emotional impact of debt on their lives. The final survey had 26 main questions with large font (17 pts) and was translated into Spanish so that both English- and Spanish-speaking community members could participate. The survey was also available online in English and Spanish, although only two surveys were completed electronically. Throughout the process of making changes, going back and forth between CURL researchers and COFI staff and parent leaders, the survey was shortened (as suggested by researchers) and modified to make it more approachable and readable by COFI parents and their respective communities (as suggested by COFI parent leaders). As is often the case with projects that involve collaborators from multiple entities, there were several delays. For instance, the staffing and 72

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time capacity of COFI and its parent leaders were stretched thin. CURL, which is part of an academic institution, and COFI, as the organizing non-profit, operated under different schedules. Nonetheless, each partner was committed to providing input according to their interests, questions and insights, based on community-level knowledge and academic training. Though departing often from stated timelines, these delays allowed for dialog and modifications, which we believe made the research design and analysis stronger. For instance, when CURL researchers first piloted a draft of the survey with one of the groups of POWER-PAC parents in Chicago, parents themselves told us, many whose highest level of education was below 12th grade, that some of the language in that draft was too complex and that some of the people in their community they wanted to survey were not fully literate. In response, the team did three things. First, in order to simplify some of the language, researchers put the survey through free online grade-level detection and worked to simplify sentences and replace long words with short ones in order to bring the document to a third-grade reading level. Second, researchers and COFI staff co-created a glossary of terms and a frequently asked questions (FAQ) handout. And last, the research team decided to create a moderator survey guide, to facilitate the reading out loud of survey instructions to future respondents.

Survey translation In order to survey the neighbors and families of our community partners, CURL researchers translated the finalized survey instrument, oral survey instruction handout and frequently asked questions (FAQ) documents into Spanish. As a fluent Spanish speaker and writer, Dr. Cossyleon (first author) took the lead in writing the first draft of the translated documents. Translating these documents, filled with technical and financial terms, was time consuming. However, we recognized this was an important part of making the instruments more accessible to the communities we sought to survey. We shared multiple drafts and had many conversations with our community partners, each time making changes to clarify or add on to translated questions. Final drafts were hybrid documents that included terms translated to the best of our ability (and with the help of Google Translate), with English terms often listed in quotations. We used terms that we believed, based on our own experiences and in consultation with COFI, were commonly used and understood. We recognized that even if English was not someone’s language of preference, in order to make financial transactions in the United States, English terms were often used. For example, ‘money order’ is a commonly known and utilized service among families who send money to relatives in other countries. The Spanish translation for a money order is giro postal, but the formal term is likely underutilized when requesting the service from vendors. For questions that involved terms like these, we offered the direct Spanish translation but also included the English word in quotations. In addition, in the survey instruction document, we gave examples of places where this service was offered (i.e., Western Union) and more details (i.e., ‘there is usually a cost to send money through this service’). To reach a broad Spanish-speaking audience with a range of financial literacy in English and Spanish, a careful back-and-forth process between CURL and our partner organization helped us to develop instruments that fully explained questions, simultaneously guarding against missing data.

‘A chance to do more than talk’: survey training and implementation As introduced earlier, we facilitated one main ‘training’ session to ensure that the survey facilitators were comfortable with the survey content and process. The training took place 73

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at a statewide POWER-PAC meeting attended by parent leaders from across the state. Three researchers drove to southern Illinois from Chicago, where the meeting was being held and joined the group of around 50. The training was one small part of the all-day meeting. Before we began, a POWER-PAC leader introduced us to the group as researchers from Loyola University Chicago ‘helping us with the surveys’4 and as ‘wonderful partners.’ She suggested that parent leaders should go into their communities and ask people to fill out our survey ‘like a friend,’ explaining the reasons we were doing the survey to change policy. Anticipating possible pushback, the POWER-PAC leader said, ‘Oh! I’m so sick of surveys!’ and then added ‘I get it, but in order to get policy solutions, we need to know this information. Let’s keep on working, keep on surveying. We are powerful people!’ The room filled with laughter, smiles and cheering. This introduction seemed to motivate everyone in the room and acted as a quintessential kickoff to what would become an impactful and policy-influencing study. For the training session, we organized the larger group into small sets of around 15 parent leaders split among the three CURL researchers. One of these groups included parent leaders who planned to conduct the survey in Spanish, who were assigned a Spanish-speaking CURL researcher to lead the training. Within each small group, we went through the survey, question by question, following the survey instructions sheet together. Each participant completed a survey of their own, and the CURL researcher answered questions as necessary. We asked participants to wait for each other and to not skip ahead while taking the survey as a group. This ensured that participants had ample time to raise questions and that these queries were addressed one by one. As was written in the oral survey instructions, we reminded participants that after they collected their surveys, they should complete the ‘staff only’ information requested, including the date the survey was collected, the location it was collected at and the initials of the survey administrator. At the end of the training, which took around 30–45 minutes, we asked each participant to write down how many survey packets they wished to take back to their communities (on a premade sheet we brought). Before the training, we printed 300 surveys and placed each of them inside a 10 × 13 clasp envelope, where each survey would be returned after completion, for privacy. Participants took as many surveys as they believed they could feasibly administer (usually around 20 at a time). We encouraged participants to conduct surveys in groups when possible. After the training portion of the survey was complete, staff from COFI began a debrief with the entire POWER-PAC community. ‘How did this feel?’ a COFI staff member asked the group. ‘I realized I had more debt than I imagined,’ one woman said nodding her head. Another woman said this was an opportunity to part be of a ‘movement’ that would change their lives. A POWER-PAC parent leader agreed and asserted we are making change in policy . . . we are asking the State to see us, a chance to do more than talk,’ she said. It is with these sentiments of hope and vision that parent leaders set out to collect surveys in their communities, which were collected by COFI staff and mailed to CURL researchers in bulk. Data collection happened over the course of three months in late spring and early summer 2016.

Analysis CURL researchers took the lead in survey data entry, cleaning and analysis, as well as drafting a short summative findings report. After compiling an initial report for all of the questions asked in the surveys, CURL researchers met with COFI parent leaders and staff on several occasions. During these meetings, our community partner asked questions about the data, which required us to disaggregate and compare answers between different racial groups and zip codes. The subsequent zip code analysis was particularly helpful in helping COFI parent leaders better 74

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understand the more fine-grained variation in the types of debt-related issues facing different communities. By letting the parent-leaders drive these questions and having the CURL researchers analyze the data further to deliver new insights, the analysis process remained participatory, and the resulting report from CURL was much more useful to the organizers within COFI for the purpose of advocating for change with decision-makers across different parts of the state. CURL and COFI also leveraged both of their separate connections to Heartland Alliance, a non-profit organization serving low-income individuals and families in Chicago, to use data from intake surveys given to 425 of their financial training program participants in Chicago. These were from the previous five years and covered financial indicators such as credit scores, savings and debt types and amounts. COFI staff asked CURL researchers to analyze the Heartland Alliance data, which had some similar quantitative indicators collected through the COFI parent-led surveys. Heartland Alliance participants and COFI parent survey respondents were comparable populations in several ways. Both groups were majority-low-income women of color and had similar usage rates of the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) and Women, Infants, and Children (WIC) benefits. Both surveys found that the most common types of debt were student loans and credit card debt, and that respondents often did not know their credit scores. The final action-oriented report generated by COFI focused primarily on the PAR survey although the data from Heartland Alliance participants offered further evidence for POWER-PAC’s campaign to alleviate poverty and debt-burdens for low-income families in the city. Analysis of the survey questions that asked participants how they felt about their incomes, finances, debt and lives more broadly generated insights into the everyday burdens that debt and poverty created for low-income families across the state. Qualitative thematic analysis of the open-response questions performed by trained CURL researchers combined with stories collected by COFI staff came to be a powerful context in the final report compiled by COFI. We believe the in-person peer-to-peer survey technique performed by COFI parents with fellow community members were a pivotal part of drawing from the strengths of our community partners to improve the study.

Reporting findings and study outcomes COFI took the lead with reporting findings, first within local communities and then with the larger POWER-PAC group and community leaders. With the help of the survey research, COFI crafted policy and practice recommendations, which included performing a financial justice scan of government fines and fees, monitoring and regulating the amounts of court system fees, protecting savings from debt collection (especially college and retirement) and strengthening federal consumer protection bureaus in order to regulate predatory lending practices (COFI 2018a). COFI parent organizers used the evidence on debt burdens in different areas of the state. In East St. Louis, COFI parents used the report to organize to end punitive fees against public housing residents in the area (COFI 2019). In Aurora and Elgin, COFI leaders continue to use evidence from the report to organize around more consistent ‘charity care’ to be offered and awarded to low-income families who are often responsible for the high cost of medical care (COFI 2019). In Chicago, in December 2018, COFI/POWER-PAC worked with Chicago City clerk Anna Valencia to begin the City of Chicago ‘Fines, Fees & Access Collaborative’ that has brought city residents together with city officials and other researchers to investigate and make recommendations for change around the impacts of city-levied fines and fees on 75

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low-income Chicagoans. COFI staff and parent leaders delivered their recommendations to Chicago Mayor Lori Lightfoot in June 2019 (Spielman 2019). COFI parent leaders have also organized for state-wide change around their survey informed policy recommendations. In partnership with the Woodstock Institute, COFI parent leaders successfully galvanized support for the Check Cashing Fairness Act, which passed the Illinois State Legislature in May 2018, to hold off proposed increases in currency exchange rate fees disproportionately used by low-income families in the state in favor of very small increases (COFI 2018b). They also organized support around the H.B.2468 Fair Lending Act to create an interest rate cap on title loans (COFI 2018b). Finally, parent leaders worked to increase the minimum wage in the City of Chicago and to eliminate asset maximum limits for families receiving TANF (Temporary Assistance to Needy Families) so that low-income families can generate and keep assets that can stabilize their households financially over time (COFI 2017).

‘Surveys with a purpose’ The study had powerful impacts on the parent leaders as well. At several points during the process of the research, particularly at meetings we attended, we heard stories of POWER-PAC leaders describing a sense of power that came from conducting their own research to impact policy. One woman said she ‘felt important’; another said she was happy to do the surveys because they were ‘surveys with a purpose.’ Describing the community response to the survey, one woman described how people were really open to taking the survey, especially because the information could help better their community. At one of the last community partner meetings we attended, we watched as parent leaders celebrated reaching their goal of 300 surveys completed. Parents debriefed about their experiences. One parent leader said that the survey helped her learn that other people were struggling with debt just like her family. Another parent leader recalled how people in her community said they were glad someone was doing something to help them. Still, another woman commented that the people she surveyed in her community told her ‘someone needs to know I have this debt and that I’m struggling.’ Others reported that the community members they surveyed asked to keep in touch to learn more about workshops or events they could attend to learn more about how to get involved and how to get out of debt.

Conclusion The PAR study presented in this chapter demonstrates some insight into how a public sociology research partnership can successfully work to impact policy. Three main points come to mind as guides for the planning and process of this kind of research. First, as we have suggested in this chapter, we believe it is vital for the people who are ‘being researched’ to be engaged in most if not all steps of the research process. This is especially important as the goals and final products of the project are being debated. From the beginning, roles and tasks to be accomplished by researchers and by community members need to be discussed to avoid miscommunication and possible future issues. Since COFI and CURL were longtime collaborators, we did not use a written agreement outlining responsibilities and final deliverables. However, others might consider at least a verbal discussion of the main expectations from each entity involved, particularly concerning the action component of research findings. Second, it is important for researchers to ‘step back’ both during parts of the research implementation and during action resulting from the study. Stepping back during the data collection process allows community participants to take ownership of the research, while also offering 76

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greater odds that community members will actually participate in the study. For instance, community members might be more inclined to trust someone in their own community, whom they recognize as part of a social change organization, instead of a traditional outsider researcher coming into a community to do research. Crucially, the project relied primarily on the strength of COFI staff and parent leaders to leverage the insights from the study to create impactful action. We believe that by stepping back during this action phase, the policy and communityorganizing outcomes were much more robust and responsive to the needs of the community partner than they would have been with greater CURL direction. Third, there needs to be flexibility in the research partnership process. Details including translation, back-and-forth processes and revisions of the survey take time, energy and commitment. Researchers must be realistic and adaptable around differing timelines and capacities and recognize that academic schedules may not coincide with those of community partners. For instance, although university researchers might have more time between academic terms and during the summer, community partners – especially volunteers – might take time off during these times. Building in foreseeable delays could help prevent tensions and frustration among research partners. We believe utilizing PAR methods within a policy and public sociology framework allows university researchers and community partners to design and carry out studies that are powerful, meaningful, and manifest learning among all partners instead of extracting community knowledge. This case highlights how PAR methods can make public sociology research stronger. By partnering with community members who are directly impacted by the research, studies are better able to reach participants and support necessary collective action policy change campaigns.

Notes 1 Along with the two authors, the project was led by Dr. Christine George from Loyola University’s Center for Urban Research and Learning and had the assistance of several graduate and undergraduate students including Anna Wilcoxson, Carolina Escobar and Amy Shike. 2 All names of people are pseudonyms. 3 Parent leaders were volunteer community members affiliated with COFI. 4 Quotes are from field notes written throughout the research.

References Burawoy, Michael. 2004. “Public Sociologies: Contradictions, Dilemmas, and Possibilities.” Social Forces 82(4):1603–1618. Burawoy, Michael. 2005. “For Public Sociology.” American Sociological Review 70(1):4–28. Cataldi, Silvia. 2014. “Public Sociology and Participatory Approaches: Towards a Democratization of Social Research?” Qualitative Sociology Review 10(4):152–172. COFI. 2017. “Stepping Out of Poverty Campaign: Working to End the Cycle of Poverty.” In Campaigns and Victories. Chicago: COFI. Retrieved July  11, 2019 (www.cofionline.org/COFI/wp-content/ uploads/2017/01/COFI-4Campaigns-Victories.pdf). COFI. 2018a. Stopping the Debt Spiral. Chicago, IL: COFI POWER-PAC Illinois. Retrieved July 7, 2019 (www.cofionline.org/COFI/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/Stopping-the-Debt-Spiral-Recommenda tions-Winter-2018.pdf). COFI. 2018b. “Stop Campaign – Currency Fee Success!” Parent Unity Across Communities, April. Retrieved July 7, 2019 (www.cofionline.org/COFI/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/POWER-PAC-NewsletterApril-2018.pdf). COFI. 2019. Parent Campaigns. Chicago, IL: COFI, Retrieved July  11, 2019 (www.cofionline.org/ pp-campaigns/stepping-out-of-poverty/). 77

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Kindon, Sara Louise, Rachel Pain, and Mike Kesby, eds. 2007. Participatory Action Research Approaches and Methods: Connecting People, Participation and Place. London : Routledge. Leavy, Patricia. 2017. “Community-Based Participatory Research Design.” Pp.  224–254 in Research Design: Quantitative, Qualitative, Mixed Methods, Arts-Based, and Community-Based Participatory Research Approaches. New York, NY: Guilford Publications. McCall, Leslie, Gabriel Hetland, Arne Kalleberg, Alondra Nelson, Sarah Ovink, Amy Schalet, Laurel Smith-Doerr, Michele Lamont, Annette Lareau, and Matt Wray. 2016. “What Counts? Evaluating Public Communication in Tenure and Promotion.” Final Report of the ASA Subcommittee on the Evaluation of Social Media and Public Communication in Sociology. Retrieved July 14, 2019 (www. asanet.org/sites/default/files/tf_report_what_counts_evaluating_public_communication_in_tenure_ and_promotion_final_august_2016.pdf). Minkler, Meredith. 2004. “Ethical Challenges for the ‘Outside’ Researcher in Community-Based Participatory Research.” Health Education & Behavior 31:684. Mirra, Nicole, Antero Garcia, and Ernest Morrell. 2015. Doing Participatory Action Research: Transforming Inquiry with Researcher, Educators, and Students. New York, NY: Routledge. Mirra, Nicole and N. Rogers. 2016. “Participation and Transformation: Considering the Goals and Tensions of University-Initiated YPAR Projects with K-12 Youth.” International Journal of Qualitative Studies in Education 29(10):1255–1268. Nichols, Lawrence T. 2009. “Burawoy’s Holistic Sociology and Sorokin’s ‘Integralism’: A Conversation of Ideas.” Pp. 27–46 in Handbook of Public Sociology, edited by V. Jeffries. Blue Ridge Summit: Rowman & Littlefield. Raynor, Katrina. 2019. “Participatory Action Research and Early Career Researchers: The Structural Barriers to Engagement and Why We Should Do It Anyway.” Planning Theory & Practice 20(1):130–136. Roe, Kathleen M., Cindy Berenstein, Christina Goette Carpenter, and Kevin Roe. 1997. “Community Building Through Empowering Evaluation: A Case Study of HIV Prevention Community Planning.” Pp. 308–322 in Community Organizing and Community Building for Health, edited by Meredith Minkler. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Spencer, Grace. 2017. Grace Spencer Defines Participatory Action Research [Streaming video]. London: Sage Publications. Retrieved from Sage Research Methods. Spielman, Fran. 2019. “Here’s How the City Should Fix Its Unfair Ticketing Policies, Group Says.” Chicago Sun Times, June  11. Retrieved June  18, 2019 (https://chicago.suntimes.com/ city-hall/2019/6/11/18661324/parking-tickets-city-stickers-boot-late-fees-proposed-changes). Stoecker, Randy. 1999. “Are Academics Irrelevant?” American Behavioral Science 42(5):840–854. Turner, Jonathan H. 2005. “Is Public Sociology Such a Good Idea?” The American Sociologist 36(3–4):27–45. Whyte, William Foote. 1991. Participatory Action Research. Newbury Park, CA: Sage Publications.

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7 Methodological considerations in doing public sociology in undergraduate courses Jennifer Vanderminden and Julia Waity

According to Michael Burawoy, public sociology ‘engages publics beyond the academy in dialogue about matters of political and moral concern’ (Burawoy 2004:1607). In practice, this means using our sociological knowledge to conduct research with communities, disseminate research into communities and inform real-life social issues. There are many types of public sociology, ranging from writing op-eds to working with the community on a research project. The projects discussed in this chapter are components of a public sociology curriculum focusing on engaging students in community-based research using sociological research methodologies including survey, spatial analysis, interview and existing data analysis. Community-based participatory research is research with an overarching goal of social change that involves collaboration with community partners as active participants in each stage of the research process (Hacker 2013). This chapter provides examples of the application of community-based research and sociological methodologies to public sociology research. Access to information on methodologies used in public sociology, particularly community-based research, is not widely available, as in-depth information on methodology and processes specific to public sociology is limited in published research. We argue that including students in public sociology research is beneficial to the discipline of public sociology, students’ educational development and to the community partners. Students are themselves a public, and through the incorporation of students and community partners in public sociology research, we are able to include multiple publics. Burawoy (2007) describes the importance of students as a public with their own past experiences that can be brought into this work. About service learning, which is related to community-based research, he writes, ‘[A]s they learn, students become ambassadors of sociology to the wider world, just as they bring back to the classroom their engagement with diverse publics’ (Burawoy 2007:31). Our students get to know their community differently, being immersed in it through this research; they can contribute to scholarship and social change, and they are better prepared for careers after graduation with these methodological skills. Public sociology research benefits the community through the use of sociologists’ skills to address social problems and also strengthens relationships between the community and the university. Doing public sociology research with students also enables us to expose more students to the theory and practice of public sociology, which in turn gives it more legitimacy. Further, 79

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involving students in public sociology benefits the discipline by making sociology more vibrant with the inclusion of multiple different perspectives. As a result of the position of public sociology within the larger discipline of sociology and the lack of published work on public sociology methodology, we find that students are often not exposed to the methods and practice of public sociology prior to our public sociology courses. In addition to uncertainty associated with public sociology, students often have anxiety associated with completing a full research project from start to finish. We have found that by the end of the year this uncertainty and anxiety is transformed into confidence and skills that students can use in furthering their education and/or careers. Our students get to know their community differently through being immersed in it through this research; they can contribute to scholarship and social change, and they are better prepared for careers after graduation with these methodological skills. The goal of this chapter is to discuss methodologies used in public sociology including the processes and challenges through two in-depth examples of community-based research projects. We discuss how and why we have incorporated students as active participants in public sociology research in both public sociology and general sociology courses. We outline the practice of public sociology in an undergraduate classroom environment and some of the associated challenges. We highlight examples of how we have conducted public sociology with undergraduate students in two projects employing five methodologies.

Including undergraduate students in public sociology research Including undergraduate students in public sociology research gives them the opportunity to learn by doing. Applied learning is an effective teaching strategy (Davis and Arend 2012; Luna and Winters 2017; McKinney 2007). This is especially true for a capstone course, which public sociology is at our university. In conducting a research project from start to finish, students solidify theories and concepts that they have learned about throughout their major. For example, students are able to view local social problems through the lens of a sociological theory like conflict theory, which allows for a more concrete understanding of the theory. One of the biggest benefits to incorporating public sociology in the classroom is the practical application of research methodology and data analysis. Students learn the research process, at least in theory, in their research methods class, and perhaps participate in portions of a research project, but actually collecting data themselves gives them the opportunity to put what they have learned into practice. A second important reason to engage students in public sociology research is so they get to know the community in which they live. Sometimes college students, especially those from other parts of the state or out of state, have limited knowledge of/experience with what the community is like outside of the university. With public sociology, not only are they getting to know their community, they are also getting the sense that what they are doing matters and can be used to contribute to the community. A third and final reason to include students in public sociology research is that it aligns with the goals of public sociology, to involve those outside the academy in sociology. Through including students in the process of collecting data and disseminating information, we are able to extend the publics that are involved in the production and dissemination of research. By including the community partner, we are extending our reach to multiple publics. The community partner benefits from the work that the students do, and the students benefit from the partnership by learning about the organization’s role in the community.

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Doing public sociology research with undergraduates There are two main types of public sociology research that we do with undergraduate students. The first is incorporating the principles of public sociology research into general sociology classes. Given what is detailed previously on why it is important to incorporate public sociology research, we try to incorporate small public sociology–type projects in general sociology classes whenever possible. For example, a sociology of poverty class worked with a youth services organization on a participatory photo mapping project. The college students worked with youth to take photos of community assets that were important to the youth and wrote captions describing the importance. The photos were then displayed in our university library along with a map of the community. Although this is not a community-based research project like the yearlong project our public sociology majors undertake, students were engaging with the public about the importance of community and were able to get an introduction to what a larger community-based research project might entail. An additional example of a public sociology project embedded in a general sociology course is in a sociology of family violence course in which students worked with the local Guardian Ad Litem (GAL) to disseminate research on child abuse and neglect (risk factors, demographic trends, etc.). This provided an opportunity for students to become familiar with the research on child abuse and neglect and showed them the usefulness of this research to the public. They worked to translate the academic findings/ statistics into reports for the public and presented them to GAL volunteers. The second type of public sociology that we do with undergraduate students is a twosemester community-based research project in our public sociology courses, which will be the primary focus of this chapter. At our university, public sociology majors take a two-semester public sociology capstone sequence, with a seminar in the first semester and a practicum in the second semester. Doing this type of public sociology research with undergraduates requires a significant amount of time invested by the professor, especially during the planning phases of the project. The process begins with deciding on a topic that is timely, relevant to students and important to the community. This might occur at the same time as or after identifying the community partner (we give examples of both strategies). If students are working with human subjects, which they generally are for this type of project, they need to get approval from the Institutional Review Board (IRB) before they can move forward with data collection. Students also need training on the particular methodology or methodologies that they are using for data collection. Students may have learned methods in a previous course, but it is important to provide more detailed training at this point. Students also may require some training on how to analyze the data they are collecting. Finally, we encourage students to disseminate their research findings in a variety of outlets, including at their university, at regional academic conferences and to the community.

Methodological challenges There are clear methodological challenges associated with doing public sociology research. These challenges can be exacerbated when including students in the process as researchers and knowledge producers. In this section we will discuss the methodological challenges in doing public sociology with students, including time constraints, student skills, student workload and working with community partners, as well as strategies we have come up with to address those challenges.

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Time constraints Despite the multitude of benefits of doing public sociology with undergraduate students, there are still some specific methodological challenges that need to be kept in mind. One of these challenges, specific to academia and particularly when incorporating public sociology research into a course, is time constraints. Limiting the scope of the project to only one or two semesters makes it difficult to complete a community-based participatory research project. Another time constraint is student time dedicated to the project. Most students are maintaining a full-time course load, participating in internships/practicums and are preparing to graduate, so this is only one of their many academic commitments. One way to overcome this challenge is to limit the scope of the project and set clear and reasonable expectations for both students and the community partner in terms of what can be accomplished. For example, when researching the challenges of employment in low-income rural areas, students wanted to conduct interviews with employers and job seekers as well as distribute surveys and conduct participant observation. It was up to us as faculty members to make sure they understood what was feasible to undertake over two semesters. In addition to maintaining a reasonable scope for the project, faculty need to be intentional about how student time is spent. When working with a community organization on the impact of Hurricane Florence, we had to ensure that the students and community organization knew how much time was required of students to participate in all the events associated with the project. The students and community partner wanted to scale up the dissemination plan to major community events that were not feasible during the academic year.

Skills and experiences Matching the needs of the community and researchers is a challenge in many public sociology research endeavors. When faculty begin public sociology research, they may select projects that fit their methodological skill set, work to extend their skill set or invite additional researchers onto a project to address the needs of the project. Just like faculty, there can be issues with skill set mismatch when including students in the research process. Not all students have the same skills and training coming into the public sociology class. Although all students are required to take the same prerequisites, depending on what professors they have had, or whether they have transferred in from another university, there is variability in preparedness for any given project. Some students have more experience or interest in working with the community than others. As part of the public sociology major at our university, all students are required to complete a 160-hour practicum with a community organization, in addition to the community-based research project. Some students know already where they want to work because of previous community experience. This can give them confidence in working with an organization that other students may not have. A way to overcome the diversity of skills and experience is to have students actively involved with the topic selection and design. This way, students can steer the project toward an area where they are more prepared. Another solution to the challenge of limited skills is to have a workshop during the class about a specific topic or methodology. When it was time to analyze collected survey data one semester, it was clear to us that our students did not have the confidence with the software program SPSS that we had assumed. So, we had a graduate student use a class period to give the students a mini workshop in how to use SPSS, with a specific focus on the skills they needed for the project.

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Student workload This type of project is more labor intensive than a regular class, so students must be invested in the research. When they are not, problems arise. There are also issues with students working in groups. It is not feasible for each student to do their own research project, so students tend to work in groups for portions or all of the project. If there are students who do not perform their assigned duties, it can impact the success of the group and the overall research project. When students are actually doing the research, sometimes they are not taken seriously because they are students, or they have that worry when they are going into the field. One way to overcome the necessity to do group work is to have students work in groups for data collection but write separate papers on unique components of the project. During a semester when it was clear one student was not contributing at all to the group project, we made the decision to have each student write a separate paper. This not only addressed the issue of student lack of participation, but it gave students the opportunity to demonstrate individually the skills they learned throughout their academic careers.

Working with community partners A fourth methodological challenge is working with community partners. Community work is an essential part of doing public sociology, but it does have challenges associated with it. For example, one year we were working with an organization that provided English for speakers of other language programs to evaluate program knowledge and usage. In the middle of the year, the executive director left. This transition made it difficult to complete our research, and we did not have as much direct interaction with the non-profit as we wanted and needed. It is sometimes challenging to get community organizations as involved with these projects as we would like. They are busy with the day-to-day operations of their organizations and may not respond to communications in a timely manner. In working with understaffed service providing organizations like the Harm Reduction Coalition, we found challenges associated with communicating decisions in a timely manner. This can make it challenging to get IRB approval, for example. Community partners may also be interested in a more limited partnership in which the students work on an area they need more research on but do not have the capacity to be directly involved in all the steps of the process (see examples of this in Example 2). Before beginning to work with a community organization on this type of project, it can be helpful to create a memorandum of understanding (MOU). This clearly lays out what is expected of you and your students as well as the community organization. Writing things like a biweekly check-in or specified dates when things need to be completed by can be helpful. When the expectations and duties of each party are clearly laid out, there won’t be any miscommunication, with the community organization expecting something that was not promised. The process of creating a MOU with the students and community partners creates a space and need for a conversation around expectations that can be a crucial opportunity to ensure that everyone is on the same page. The MOU with the Harm Reduction Coalition (see Example 2) provided students with an idea of what to expect from the partner and how closely involved the partner planned to be throughout the process. Communication and organizational skills are key to the success of these projects with community organizations. Having a clear yet flexible plan and maintaining communication between the multiple stakeholders (e.g., community partner, students, IRB) are essential to a successful project.

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Project example 1: food insecurity and food access (Julia Waity) This example discusses a faculty-directed public sociology project with undergraduate students. Given the length of time that it takes to complete a public sociology project with undergraduate students, sometimes it is best to work with a community partner you have experience with and know is interested in working with students. One year, I decided that the class would work with a local non-profit organization that addresses issues of food access and food insecurity. Representatives from the non-profit came in and talked with the students about what they did and what information they were interested in finding out. Since students did not have the opportunity to select the topic themselves, they were less excited about the project at first compared to previous classes, but over the course of two semesters, they became very interested in the topic and created some quality research for the organization. The methodological advantage in preselecting an organization for students to work with is it allows more time to focus on research design and data collection. Although the community organization that they worked with had been selected for them, the specific research question and methodology was up to them to decide. We began by talking generally about the main concepts of inequality with a focus on inequality in access to healthy, affordable food. Students brought up conflict theory repeatedly when we were working on this project. I had students brainstorm specific topics within food access and write research questions based on those topics. After much discussion, we settled on the topics of food access from a geographic perspective (such as food deserts) as well as what other organizations in the community were doing to address issues with food access. Students broke into groups based on the topic that they were most interested in. The next step was to come up with how to address these topics. Selecting research methodologies is challenging to students, so guidance from instructors is key during this phase of the project. Students often do not realize how much time a particular methodology may take, or what can actually be found using a particular methodology. Eventually, students chose to use two methodologies for this project: Geographic Information Systems (GIS) mapping to address food access from a geographic perspective and in-depth interviews with key stakeholders to determine what was being done in the community with regard to food access. The GIS mapping group created maps that depicted where grocery stores, fast food restaurants, bus stops/routes and bike paths were located. The maps that students made helped them to get to know their community better. They gave students an opportunity to see our city from a perspective they had not considered, due to the fact that most students either used a car for transportation or lived on campus and so did not frequently travel off campus. A challenge this group encountered was deciding what was appropriate to put on a map. They knew they wanted to include grocery stores but were not sure what else to include. They encountered research on food swamps (areas with a high concentration of fast food restaurants), so included those as well. Since access was an important issue, they also included bike paths and bus routes/bus stops. During the creation of the maps, they realized that not all the information they wanted to include could be included. For example, the bus routes could be overlaid on the map, but not how frequently the busses ran. They also had challenges actually using the GIS software and finding the resources they wanted to include on the map in a format that was compatible. GIS is not a skill taught in our research methods class, so students were novices, but they decided it was an important skill to learn, given that GIS was the best way to answer this particular research question.

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The in-depth interview group conducted interviews with key informants working in our community to address food insecurity and food access in various ways. These were mainly individuals who worked at non-profit organizations that address these issues. The in-depth interviews helped the students get to know our city better by shedding light on how big of a problem food insecurity and food access is in our community as well as helping students get to know these non-profit organizations’ mission and impact. A challenge this group encountered was how to complete the interviews and then analyze the data. Students learned about in-depth interviews in their research methods course but had never had the opportunity to conduct interviews. They were hesitant to call the participants to schedule an interview time and nervous to conduct the actual interview. Once they had the interview data, they struggled with knowing what relevant information should be pulled from that data. They also had difficulty deciding who to interview in the first place. There were many key informants whom they could interview, but not enough time to interview them all. The organization that we worked with helped the students find key informants for their interviews. Students commented to me that they were excited to be able to use the skills they learned in previous courses in this applied setting, although they did need to learn some additional skills as well. They also enjoyed getting a chance to work with community members. Two of the students worked with the community organization to do their practicum, so they got a firsthand experience of how they were addressing food insecurity in our community. The results of this research were disseminated to our community partner and beyond. At the conclusion of the project, several students presented the results of their research at a regional sociology conference as well as an undergraduate research showcase at our university. We also presented the results of our project at our annual Public Sociology Brunch. Representatives from the organization were there, as well as faculty, staff, students and other community partners. Our community partner informed the local food policy council about the research that we did, and as a result, our students presented their findings at a local food policy council meeting. Several representatives from non-profit organizations present wanted to look at our maps in more detail and use them in their own work. We are still getting requests to see these maps that the students made in the 2016–17 school year.

Project example 2: opioid misuse (Jennifer Vanderminden) In this example, I will discuss a yearlong community-based research project on opioid misuse in Southeastern North Carolina. Students selected the topic of opioid misuse driven by news coverage of opioid misuse and seemingly misleading information on the scope of the problem. The students worked in three self-selected groups (Groups 1–3 in discussion to follow) based on the specific area within the topic of opioid misuse in which they were most interested. Students collected data in groups, but each wrote their own papers and tested individual research questions. Each of the three groups was connected to a community organization that they worked with throughout the project with varying levels of involvement. Group 1 worked with a local Harm Reduction Coalition employing paper and pencil surveys, Group 2 worked with local agencies serving children and families (Department of Social Services and the regional hospital) to compile/analyze existing statistical information and Group 3 designed a telephone survey and collected data using computer assisted telephone interviewing (CATI) software in collaboration with the Social Science Applied Research Center (SSARC). In this section, I discuss the methodologies; how the students decided upon them and the design, collection and dissemination processes for each.

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Process of conducting public sociology research and its challenges The process for conducting this community-based research project once the topic was established included the following steps: identifying a community partner, focusing the research question, identifying the most appropriate research design for the question, creating a research plan, collecting and analyzing data and disseminating findings. To follow, I will detail each of these steps for the three groups along with the challenges associated with each. Each of the three groups used a different methodological approach and faced unique challenges. Figure 7.1 depicts an outline of the process for each of the three groups and is based on the communitybased participatory research model by Karen Hacker (Hacker 2013). Determine topic: Opioid misuse i use in Southeastern is Southeas a ter North Carolina (g ((group) group) Group 1

Group 2

Group 3

Establish community ommunity partnersh partnerships (group) Regional ional Hospital H sp Ho s ital and ment of o Social Services S rv Se r i Department

NC C Ha H Harm r Reduction rm Coalition

Social Science S ience Applied Sc A lied Research App Res Center C Ce nter

Identify f and focus f cus research question fo n (one per student, example research questions below) Does the known k wn presence kno presenc of nyl in an opioid affect affe a af fentanyl r’s choice to take the th user’s d ug? dr drug?

Has Child hild ld Protective Protective Services S rv Se r volve l ment rela l ted to involvement related ental substance abuse abu parental eas a ed in recent years? year increased

Do demographic ogr graphic chara characteristics r cter r ce, gender, ra gende d r, r marital m such as age, race, status and nd income may a influence inf nflu where a user initially l obtains obt opioids d? opioids?

Identifying tify f ing the most ap aappropriate research h design for f r the topic fo top (by group but each ach student much be able to test a question using th this design) De-identified e-ide d ntified exis existing i ting ics/ s/addminis i tra r tive data d statistics/administrative reg e ional hospital hosp s ital and a from regional r DSS records

Paper er and pencil surveys survey r distributed stributed at syringe s ringe sy exchange

Telephone one surveys surv r ey e s using CATI C m and purchased purchas a ed phone ph system lis it number list

Creating a research C ch plan (as group, broad b steps below) Collaborate ora r te with coalition to add/edit / dit /e d existing exis i ting survey surve r ey btain IR IIRB RB approval Obtain f r how to distribute fo distribu di Plan for ys at syringe s ringe exchange sy exchan surveys

Identify d ntify de f data that is i ilab l le and establish establis ih available a for f r security fo t in using us criteria data s ecific protocol for sp f Createe specific accessing data

Obtain gr ggrant rant fund ffunding ding to purchase pur phone number umber database databas a e and use of CATI C CA T sy TI ssystem ystem Create telephone telephon e e survey surv r ey script s Obtain btain IR IIRB RB approval CATI system training stem tra r ining and schedule sc one calls l and data eentry for phone

Collect data (group) roup) and analyze data d (individually) Distribute bute surv surveys r eys y at syringe s ri sy ge with weekl kly pick up exchange weekly

Obtain data from f om fr organizations organ r iz i ations

Conductt telephone telephon e e interviews interv r ie using CATI C TI CA T

Attach ID I numbers to all urve r eys and enter in SPSS S SS SP surveys

Clean C ean and code Cl d data in SPSS S SS SP

Export Export data to SPSS Ex S SS SP

Analyze Analy lyze in SPSS S SS SP

Analyze Analy lyze in SPSS S SS SP

Analyze Analy lyze in SPSS S SS SP

Dissemination: mination: All Al students wrote a research ch paper, r report r (written for the publicc and available avail on ters at community attended event website) and presented posters

Figure 7.1 Community-based research project process for each group based on CBPAR model (Hacker 2013) 86

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Harm reduction coalition group Group 1 collaborated with the NC Harm Reduction Coalition to determine the needs of the organization and how they align with the questions of interest to the students. The students wanted to know about how clients at the needle exchange started using, how long they had been using and what types of drugs they used (both initially and currently). The coalition wanted to know about the role of fentanyl test strips in preventing overdose (an initiative they were actively engaged in). The students identified a survey as the best way to obtain a large amount of information from as many clients as possible while allowing the participants to remain anonymous. The coalition had a survey that had been used in another city that they hoped to adapt and use again locally. The students added questions to the survey based on their individual research question and edited other portions of the survey. Given the length of the existing survey, the students were unable to add a large number of questions to the survey, meaning they needed to limit their variables for the study. This was frustrating for the students but also required that they consider the needs of the agency and how they align with student questions (a value of community-based participatory research). Group 1 then obtained IRB approval to distribute the survey at the local syringe exchange so they could disseminate the information beyond the scope of the course. Printed copies of the survey were left at the syringe exchange for clients to complete for approximately five weeks. Then students entered the data into SPSS and analyzed their individualized research questions once data collection was complete. Due to the time constraints of the academic calendar, this process took longer than they had hoped, and they had a final sample size of 20. Group 1 was able to gain experience designing a study with a community partner, which was very beneficial but also challenging in terms of logistics and time constraints. Given the personal and legal nature of the topic, Group 1 faced particular methodological and ethical challenges. For example, the students were considering asking about involvement with the Department of Social Services, the custody and care of children (of interest to two groups) and about perceptions of users but, after conversations with the community partner, excluded most questions on these topics. The agency felt that some questions were deeply personal and/or might create distrust of the agency among clients. These students also needed to consider how the survey was presented and ensure the clients at the exchange did not feel pressured to complete the survey (in order to receive goods and services, for example).

Child welfare group Group 2 was interested in the impact of opioids on children, specifically infants born with opioids in their system and on children entering the child welfare system as a result of opioid use by parents. Group 2 eventually ended up obtaining data from the Department of Social Services (DSS) and the regional hospital. They had a difficult time identifying a community partner for this portion of the project, given the sensitive nature of this information. Unlike Group 1, this group determined their research questions based on what existing information was available. It was necessary for the students to be very flexible in their research plan, as obtaining any information was difficult and became available at different time points. Since the information was de-identified, the students in Group 2 did not need to go through IRB approval. Once the students had the data, they analyzed trends in entry into the child welfare system for substance-related issues and the number of infants born with substances in their systems over time. 87

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Given that Group 2 sought information that was difficult to access including health care information (treatment-seeking parents and infants born positive) and Department of Social Services information (children coming into care), they also faced challenges in testing the exact question they hoped to examine. Group 2 found that it was difficult to access this information and that often this information was incomplete or inaccurately documented. This is a limitation of using administrative data (and existing statistics generally) that the students were able to experience firsthand. While a frustrating limitation, the students were able to provide an analysis of the limited existing information and gained a better understanding of the current system of data collection on this issue and formulated recommendations for improvement.

Community survey group The goal of Group 3 was to obtain information on opioid use among the general population of those living in the county to identify prevalence of use, demographic characteristics and information on where people initially obtain opioids and what type. To obtain this type of information, the students needed a representative sample of adults in the county and to construct a survey. The students decided on the project and questions first and then identified a campus partner to work with on data collection. This group also needed access to a telephone list and computer assisted telephone interviewing (CATI) software, which required funding. Finding funding for public sociology research can be difficult. In this case, we benefited from the fact that students were involved, as we were eligible for an internal grant supporting student involvement in research. The students, teaching assistant and professor applied for and received this internal grant. With funds from this grant, Group 3 collaborated with the Social Science Applied Research Center and paid for use of the CATI system and use of a list of phone numbers. Once they obtained the grant and phone list, designed and piloted the survey, were trained on the CATI system and had IRB approval, the data collection began. While this group had the least amount of difficulty in terms of asking sensitive questions, as the phone interviews were anonymous, they experienced difficulty in getting people to participate in telephone interviews. Consistent with the larger trends in response rates for telephone surveys (Keeter et al. 2017), the students experienced very high rates of people ignoring calls or hanging up on them if answering. They were surprised at how few people were willing to take a telephone survey. Group 3 had a final sample size of 171. Like the other groups, they were also limited by time and needing to complete the project prior to the end of the semester. Students in Group 3 were able to use their skills in survey construction, gain skills in using CATI systems and experience the process of applying for a grant.

Connection to the community Each of these three groups gained a stronger sense of their community throughout these projects. They each were able to work with a community partner and obtain information from those in the community on opioid (mis)use and dispel some of the negative stereotypes about users in our community. As shown in Figure  7.1, each of the groups had different levels of involvement with the community partner. For example, Group 1 worked closely with the Harm Reduction Coalition from the conception of the research questions to design, collection and dissemination, while Group 2 worked with the organizations in a very limited capacity to obtain data, and Group 3 collaborated with the Social Science Applied Research Center for the purpose of accessing skills and tools for data collection (CATI and the phone list). 88

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Dissemination All three groups used the same methods of dissemination and presented the results of the project at a brunch symposium on campus, completed a research paper, a report and a poster. Though challenging, the students left the year with a tremendous sense of accomplishment. Through the practice of providing an academic paper and a report that is written in a format accessible to the public, the students strengthened their ability to write about and discuss sociological research beyond the academy. They were able to work with community partners to answer important questions on a timely social problem. They were also able to apply the skills and information from research methods. The information collected has subsequently been used to inform decisions on harm reduction and to better understand the scope and nature of opioid misuse in our area.

Conclusion This chapter highlighted the importance of including students in public sociology, and public sociology in the curriculum, and provided an overview of the methodological processes and challenges associated with doing public sociology with undergraduate students. We have identified some of the challenges associated with doing public sociology research and the ways in which including students can exacerbate those challenges. Despite the common challenges that instructors may face when doing public sociology in the classroom setting described here, we think it is important to do public sociology with undergraduate students. Public sociology allows students to use the skills they have learned in college outside the classroom and gives them the opportunity to see how sociology is relevant in their future careers as well. Participating in a research project from start to finish gives students the skills and confidence to help their community while also growing individually. Doing this work, students foster a sense of teamwork and accomplishment that will carry them beyond the classroom and into their careers. We provided two project examples that highlight the very specific processes and challenges associated with those projects. Although the topics may not be applicable to all instructors, the details about the methodology will be useful to public sociologists generally. There is limited published material on community-based research methods in public sociology, so our chapter makes a unique contribution to this field. Incorporating students in public sociology advances the discipline through incorporating more and different perspectives on sociology and by reaching additional publics. Students are important stakeholders and a public to be considered by public sociologists. By engaging in the research process and dissemination, the results have already been shared to a public, the students. Community partners are another public that benefit from public sociology research involving students through having a dedicated team work on a research project on a topic of importance to their organization. While community partners may invest a significant amount of time in the project, they gain access to the skills of the faculty and students. The research project can be used to help advance their organizations’ mission. Through incorporating students into the process of creating knowledge, sociologists are able to reach multiple publics in ways that are core to the values of public sociology.

References Burawoy, M. 2004. “Public Sociologies: Contradictions, Dilemmas, and Possibilities.” Social Forces 82(4):1603–1618. 89

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Burawoy, Michael. 2007. “For Public Sociology.” In Public Sociology: Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Profession in the Twenty-first Century. Berkeley: University of California Press. Davis, James R. and Bridget D. Arend. 2012. Facilitating Seven Ways of Learning: A Resource for More Purposeful, Effective, and Enjoyable College Teaching. Sterling, VA: Stylus Publishing, LLC. Hacker, Karen A. 2013. Community-Based Participatory Research. 1st ed. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications. Keeter, Scott, Nick Hatley, Courtney Kennedy, and Arnold Lau. 2017. “What Low Response Rates Mean for Telephone Surveys.” Pew Research Center 15:1–39. Luna, Yvonne M. and Stephanie A. Winters. 2017. “ ‘Why Did You Blend My Learning?’ A Comparison of Student Success in Lecture and Blended Learning Introduction to Sociology Courses.” Teaching Sociology 45(2):116–130. McKinney, Kathleen. 2007. “The Student Voice: Sociology Majors Tell Us About Learning Sociology.” Teaching Sociology 35(2):112–124.

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8 Needs assessment as community research project Augie Diana

Introduction As described by Michael Burawoy (2005a) and subsequently advanced by many current sociologists (Clawson et al. 2007; Nyden, Hossfeld, and Nyden 2011), public sociology is distinguished from professional sociology. In this view, public sociology is intended to help promote social change while professional sociology has mostly to do with advancing the discipline – sociologists talking to other sociologists. As a discipline, we have always been good about talking to each other, telling each other why we are important and why our ideas matter. Public sociology, which is largely steeped in sociological traditions of community activism, is an effort to promote our connection to the world outside the academy. The unfortunate truth of both approaches, however, is that our sociological expertise is seen as best housed, and for all intents and purposes, ‘practiced from’ within the academy. Further, as sociology has come to define itself largely as a field to address social injustice, its ideological bent is one that is seen to confront the dominant social order (Burawoy 2005b; Piven 2007; Morris 2015). Certainly, there is much that needs to be changed in current social institutions and systems. This has perhaps never been truer than in the current political-economic moment. But where does that leave sociologists in practice settings who seek to advance our knowledge, theory and research traditions to promote change from within those institutions? In an apparent attempt to build on the need for a public role for sociology sparked by Burawoy and many others before and since, ASA and sociological publications have worked to express the field’s external relevance. For instance, the 2007 ASA conference focused on sociology’s public place and included a talk, ‘Constituting a Practical Public Sociology: Reflections on Participatory Research at the Citizenship Project,’ which spoke to the need of sociologists to ‘get into the weeds’ via a community-based project (Johnston 2007). Action-oriented research, which comes in many forms, seems particularly compatible with not only the goals of public sociology but with sociology’s relevance as a field in the world outside the tower. A core goal of participative, action-oriented sociology is to generate useful knowledge and promote innovation, both conceptually and methodologically (Calhoun 2004). Indeed, many sociologists advocate for and implement action research projects on a regular basis. In ‘Doing Sociology’ (Straus, Price, and Breese 2009), a number of examples are offered 91

Augie Diana

of applied- or practice-oriented sociologists (most of whom still operate from an academic post, but house sub-disciplines titled ‘Applied Sociology’ or ‘Sociological Practice’) using, and teaching students to use, sociological knowledge as a form of intervention in real-world settings. Sociologists, actually, are more prevalent outside the academy (Spalter-Roth 2007, 2005; Riley 1967) and can be found in a wide range of applied settings, including government, policy think tanks and private business (often as self-employed entrepreneurs). The goals of applied and practicing sociologists are consonant with public sociology’s underlying mission to change social conditions for the better. However, in part because those practicing sociology are in non-academic, traditional work environments, these sociologists attempt to use their sociological training to create change from within. This can take the form of helping community organizations address social problems they are organized to address; evaluating the social impact and effectiveness of local, state and federal initiatives; and assessing the needs of communities, among many other institutional challenges (Price and Will 2015; Steele and Price 2008). This chapter tells one story of community-driven use of sociological knowledge.

An applied sociology example: community-based research and the community needs assessment Community-based research (sometimes called community-engaged research) has many forms and often multiple goals. For example, community-based participatory action research (CBPAR) seeks to directly involve the community in the entire research process (Minkler and Wallerstein 2008; Wilson 2018). Empowerment evaluation works to leave skills and knowledge behind in the community for their ongoing use (Fetterman, Kaftarian, and Wandersman 1996; Yin, Kaftarian, and Jacobs 1996). Community action research seeks to promote change in community settings (Israel et al. 1998). As with public sociology, applied sociological research allows for the role of ‘experts’ such as outside evaluators, who work with participants in the research sites rather than do to them. In this model, the role of the sociologist is to construct the underlying process and to help guide its implementation in coordination with local participants (Straus 2002). As noted earlier, these community projects are rarely about large-scale structural change. Instead, they are intended to improve the functioning of existing institutions and to help them address well-defined and concrete issues facing their communities. One particular example of a community-driven process is a community needs assessment. In their ideal form, community needs assessments are intended to drive community action, by directing community leaders, especially policymakers and practitioners, to address the most pressing community issues that are identified (Gupta, Sleezer, and Russ-Eft 2007; Watkins, West Meiers, and Visser 2012; Sharma, Lanum, and Saurez-Balcazar 2000). This should be true no matter what form the needs assessments take. In fact, needs assessments can take many forms and often mean very different things to different people (Soriano 1995). For most, the needs assessment is carried out as an in-depth, scientifically valid community survey, which is sometimes combined with secondary or ‘epidemiological’ data sources (Sharma et al. 2000). A less common but not unknown approach to needs assessment is to use a wider range of mixed methods and to triangulate the data collection and data analysis sources (Ross, Ellipse, and Freeman 2004; Davidson 2005). This chapter will provide an example of an extensive needs assessment conducted in a rural community over a year and a half. The story includes process features, such as the engagement of the community from start to finish, as well as the study’s outcomes. Elements of the process included consultation with community groups in the study design, training and active roles of community members in focus group methodology (Merton, Fiske, and Kendall 1956; Merton 92

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and Kendall 1946; Krueger 1988) and involvement of community members in survey outreach. After completion of the data collection and analysis component of the study, additional roles were established for community leaders in sharing the information back with the community (in the hopes of gaining support for change-based action strategies around the most pressing community issues suggested by the needs assessment results). Recommended strategies to consider in embarking on such a process are offered in this chapter. It is hoped that the ‘public’ in public sociology will become evident in this case study.

The origins of the need (for a needs assessment): federal funding opportunities and expectations Federal funding often comes with a set of requirements, whereby ‘grantees’ (those receiving government funds) have to engage in pre-defined activities, form appropriate working groups, distribute funds in an appropriate way and meet reporting requirements. A core requirement of much federal funding is for the recipients of funds to conduct formal evaluations of the service programs they are implementing (Hougland 2009). An expansive literature exists on forms of evaluation research, some examples of which are mentioned earlier. When addressing social programs, as the one to be described in this chapter, evaluations typically take at least two distinct forms. Process evaluations focus on the ways the services are delivered or the way programs are implemented and will typically assess the quality of that implementation (Ross et al. 2004). Most funding initiatives require outcome evaluations, which focus on project goals, especially for the target outcomes that a project sets out to change (e.g., re-offending for drug court participants, educational achievements for reading programs) (Hougland 2009). Evaluation studies are an important way that many sociologists receive federal funding to conduct research, and many gain these awards through the competitive grant-making process. There are many types of funders, including private foundations, private businesses, universities and public research and service agencies. This paper focuses on funding that initiates at a federal level. Evaluation funds can be awarded directly to an evaluator from the federal agency leading the funding initiative, but often, the federal funds filter through state and community agencies. For instance, federal agencies annually provide fixed grant funds, called ‘block grants,’ while also proposing discretionary grant programs, which are targeted toward a particular set of goals (Diana 2009). In the 1990s and early 2000s, drug prevention funding was provided by the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA 2013), a part of the federal Department of Health and Human Services (HHS), as well as the federal Office of National Drug Control Policy (ONDCP). ONDCP provided funds directly to local communities, while SAMHSA provided funds to both communities and state agencies, the latter of which filtered funds to local communities where the need was greatest; in both cases, the funds were to be used for youth drug prevention activities (Diana 2009). The SAMHSA initiative is the focus of this paper. Specifications in the grant awards required a distribution of the funds toward clearly defined ‘services.’ The two primary service areas were infrastructure and direct service. As compared with many funding initiatives, a relatively small portion of these drug prevention grants could be used for direct services (7%–15%, depending on the year). This meant that the lion’s share of the funds was devoted to infrastructure activities. Grantees were required to form advisory groups, to participate in a series of training events, hold regular advisory board meetings and collect data to determine the most pressing, and most addressable, community needs. Funds 93

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were distributed such that no direct services could be provided until these other pieces were in place (SAMHSA 2013). From 85% to 93% of the infrastructure funds, grantees were required to devote a portion to the evaluation of their program activities – both the process and outcome components of the projects. A minimum of 5% was to be devoted to evaluation, roughly $30,000 in this case. To conduct an adequate evaluation study, it was also deemed that the evaluation should begin with a formal needs assessment. As with evaluation, there is an expansive literature on needs assessment (Altschuld and Kumar 2010). Jeff Will, Milligan, and Cheney (2009) offer a synopsis of activities that speak well to giving a needs assessment a community-engaged public focus: [S]trategies included • • • • •

Conducting a ‘windshield’ survey to develop a community physical profile Participating in a community resident dialogue/town hall meetings Conducting community resident surveys and focus groups Conducting interviews and focus groups with service providers, educators, . . . and other officials Developing [a] social indicators database, including data from [a wide range] of sources

For the current project, funded community grantees, in consultation with their hired evaluators, were given significant freedom in the design and conduct of the needs assessment. This leverage allowed for creative discussions around a range of options to conduct a needs assessment. As the lead evaluator of the community grantee, it was my role to inform the grantee of the options and to determine their role in identifying the most workable approach for the community – a place they lived in and knew better than I did. For this reason, approaching the needs assessment from a community-engaged public sociology lens was the only approach that made sense. This is a core strength the applied, practicing or public sociologist can bring to an effort to address social problems and community issues. In addition to an understanding of core methodological needs, sociologists bring an awareness of community processes (Quartaroli and Hirsch 2009). Our approach, by coincidence rather than design, mirrored many of the steps outlined in the Will study mentioned earlier.

Some background on the community and their invisible social problems Over the course of 12 years, serving as lead evaluator for several communities in Colorado, I led the design and conduct of a range of needs assessments. The focus of this chapter is a needs assessment conducted in a mountain county in rural Colorado, between 1991 and 1992. This county embodies the spirit of the mountainous West  – independence from outside control, strong local identity, relatively few but efficiently utilized resources and, of course, a strong connection to nature, including gorgeous natural scenery and severe climates. One other feature of the community, as with many others in rural Colorado, is a good deal of ‘invasive’ tourist culture, primarily from the ski industry. Often hidden in such idyllic areas are problems the locals experience. The local economy can seem sound, due to income generated from the tourist trade, but locals rarely benefit directly from those resources, save some seasonal job opportunities and food, gift/souvenir and transportation services. The seasonal nature of these resources, combined with the fact that the 94

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primary source of them, the ski industry, was, at the time, wholly owned and operated by the City and County of Denver, leaves many locals with few quality jobs or year-round employment opportunities. A more troubling and common feature of the local environment of this community, and many like it, is difficulty managing hidden problems. Raising families is often hindered by latchkey children with little guidance or support while both parents work long days. A lesser known problem is a much more common drug culture than one would normally associate with such an idyllic environment. Winning a grant to address its problems required some knowledge of those problems. Specifically with regard to drug issues, the abuse of alcohol is common, leading to impaired driving outcomes; recreational drug use is readily available, as the tourist culture promotes a ‘total body’ vacation experience from the slopes to the evening festivities, and the remoteness of the rural environment allows for secretive drug cultures like methamphetamine labs cooked in out-ofthe-way places. With regard to the role of the ski industry, tourist services often were the access point to the drug culture – for instance, shuttle drivers might help visitors to locate sources of drugs. These conditions were known before any needs assessment was even to be conducted. The reason for an in-depth needs assessment was to determine the nature of these problems – for example, where they occurred most often, what did or didn’t discourage them, how they affected locals and what could be done to prevent local youth from experiencing the problems related to them.

Starting the needs assessment As mentioned earlier, the funded projects required advisory boards. The advisory board approved (or at least discussed) all actions of the project, including evaluation activities. The needs assessment was the first activity, so this was the first part of the evaluation discussed with the board. Technically, as an ‘outside’ evaluator, board approval was not required of my evaluation design recommendations. But in advisory board meetings, it became immediately clear from both project staff and local community board members that community acceptance of the collection of data would be far less likely without direct community involvement. This was my first insight into the value of a community-engaged, public sociology process – the evaluation would be better able to achieve its data collection, analysis and reporting goals if knowledgeable community members helped guide some components of it. The first task in the development of the needs assessment was to offer the board a series of options. After reviewing a wide range of materials (much less readily available in 1991 than today), I shared with the board three primary options: (1) a community-wide survey, the most commonly utilized approach in the literature; (2) use of available data sources, now most commonly referred to as epidemiological data but then more known as secondary or archival data, collected from a range of public records such as police and traffic reports, school survey data and public health information; (3) a qualitative ‘survey’ approach, defined primarily in the literature as focused interviews, or focus group methodology (I introduced the board to Robert Merton’s work, in considering this option). I shared these options by describing the advantages and disadvantages. For the community survey, the data quality could be high, but potential difficulties with response rate and expenses are not trivial. Public records data offer the greatest range of areas that can be available, including alcohol and drug-related fatalities, sales at bar establishments, school survey data on student self-reported use, but these data can be difficult to access, and there is great variety in quality and 95

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accuracy across sites. The focus group methodology was described as the best way to engage the community, given the need to sit together with community members in discussion of community issues, but also not always seen as the best way to gather representative data, given the more conversational (qualitative) nature of focus groups and the less common use of this methodology to ‘sample’ communities in a systematic way. Option 3, focus group methodology, proved to be the most popular, somewhat to my surprise but, in hindsight, makes a lot of sense given the local culture described earlier. Board members saw this approach as a much greater opportunity to be doing the needs assessment with, rather than to, the community. They also preferred a more systematic design and charged me with determining local population groupings and creating a sampling frame for the study. They gave input along the way but generally liked the approach I presented. This result struck me at the time as a great example, again, of the value of a community-engaged approach. Though the term ‘public sociology’ was not in regular use at the time, it was clear to all that by involving the community in our sociological work that directly affects them, you are likely to get better outcomes. Importantly, this public focus required sharing (progress, successes, challenges) with the community at points along the way. An unexpected byproduct of this community collaboration was that the board members and other local citizens they mobilized facilitated the evaluation implementation. I thought we were done with our needs assessment decision, but additional advisory board discussions resulted in a request for a community survey as well. However, like the focus group approach, there would be significant involvement from the board to generate community interest and participation. I was responsible to ensure good survey methodology in the survey design, but board involvement led to a decision that all adult community members would be mailed a survey. The board and staff also agreed that any additional costs associated with this extra evaluation component would be allocated to the evaluation from the project budget. This financial outcome was a direct result of using a community-engaged public sociology approach.

Conducting the needs assessment This section will focus less on the content of the tools developed and more on the process of conducting the needs assessment, in that it highlights the community-engaged nature of the evaluation. As mentioned earlier, it was my job to determine the ‘structure’ of the methodologies – survey design, focus group sampling and interview guide and the required roles, functions and tasks. These included the distribution mechanisms and format of the survey, coding to determine response rate and possible follow-up requests and designation and training of facilitators and moderators of the focus groups. As will become imminently clear, even ‘my jobs’ were not absent community involvement.

The community survey: voice your views The survey covered a wide range of issues, with a primary goal of determining the relative importance, in the minds of community residents, of drug and alcohol issues in the county. As the survey designer, I would normally have been very careful not to construct leading questions but, to their credit, the advisory board members asked that I ensure an unbiased survey as well. I had presented these issues in meetings (e.g., bias in survey construction), but it still could have felt to them that showing higher rather than lower rates would benefit the project by supporting the need for it.

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Beyond the content, the board members asked for three things. First, they wanted a nonthreatening name for the survey, hopefully an inviting one. Through many rounds of suggestions, none of which slowed the completion of the survey content, the title ‘Voice Your Views’ was settled on. Board members believed strongly that clearly indicating for community members that they were ‘participants’ rather than ‘subjects’ in a research study would resonate better. Nothing in this title suggested to me potential bias or a likelihood to reduce response rate. Second, the board members felt strongly that response rate and honesty in responses would increase if the names of the advisory board members themselves were listed on the survey. Since this is a fairly small county and since the board comprised a range of community sector representatives, board members believed, with good evidence to support them, that a relatively high percentage of prospective respondents would know, and hopefully have a positive association with, at least one of the board members. It was agreed that the names of the full board, as well as project staff who were also community members, would appear on the front page of the survey, immediately under the title. Finally, board members and project staff had strong feelings that the survey be visually appealing – that is, it not look too much like a survey. This raised a bit of concern from the evaluation perspective, because we wanted to ensure that people took seriously the survey content. The project team brought in a designer who worked with us to create a ‘serious enough’ design but still have an inviting visual appeal. The ‘hard data’ from the community survey component of the needs assessment suggest a resounding success at many levels, though as a skeptic (part of the baggage of a researcher), I saw areas that could have been better. The response rate was roughly 35%. This is very acceptable for mailed surveys and much higher than an often-assumed rate of 10%. But I had hopes of a much higher return rate, given the active involvement of so many community members in the process. Still, the resulting data was highly informative, and project staff was very excited to pursue the priorities identified by community members. We can never know the importance, or effectiveness, of these contributions to the survey design, but we do know that taking a community-engaged approach created significant buyin. We know this, in part, because board members told us that many community members told them they immediately agreed to complete the survey once they saw the names of people they knew, and some even reached out directly to the board members to confirm the validity of the survey’s information. As will be shown later, the greatest indication of the power of this approach was in the community’s reaction to sharing of the survey results, one of the most important contributions of a public sociology approach to research, and one that is often neglected by more traditional researchers.

The community focus groups: design As much as the community survey was a community-engaged process, the focus group component of the needs assessment took this approach to a whole other level. I had initially presented the methodology to the board as consisting of additional options, specifically a series of focused individual interviews, as originally described by Merton and Kendall (1946), or as a series of group discussions, also conceptualized by Merton. The board expressed a strong preference for the group design (I jumped up and down a little inside at the preference for the more sociological approach), as they particularly liked the idea that community members would sit down together to talk to each other, something that happened less often than we might expect in a small community.

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While I had studied focus group methodology a bit, I was by no means an expert. After careful review of the literature, I developed a guide for board members in ways focus groups can be implemented. I had settled on an approach developed by Richard Krueger at the University of Minnesota (1988). A strength of Krueger’s approach that seemed to make it a good fit for this community was its inclusion of community members directly in the focus group process, specifically as group facilitators and recorders. The project staff agreed to support a training visit by Krueger to the county for hands-on training. This training would serve as a Train-theTrainer model, after which I would assume primary responsibility for monitoring all aspects of the process to ensure its research integrity, including development of the focus group interview guides. Once again, the public sociology ideal of an ‘expert’ role, working with those directly impacted by a service became the centerpiece of this county evaluation project. For the sampling design, I  reviewed county statistics to understand population distributions by most major demographic characteristics, such as age, gender, geography, race/ethnicity, professional background, socioeconomic status (where possible) and so on. The county public health board member gave inputs on the interpretation to ensure an accurate accounting of the data, as they would determine the best focus group number and distribution. The result was 12 focus groups, each with eight to 20 members, using a stratified design (modeled after the board representation, which was organized by community sectors). One of the most important ‘findings’ that should not have been surprising but was not part of the original considerations was the need to involve the youth perspective. Since the project focus was on prevention of youth drug abuse, lacking their perspective would have been a serious oversight. Having larger focus groups (as many as 20 members) was a decision made by the youth reps, for fear that some who were uncomfortable speaking up in the focus group setting would feel more outcasted by a smaller outspoken group than a larger one. Several unanticipated outgrowths of the addition of the youth focus group component included addition of a youth representative to the advisory board, bringing a youth member on staff of the project and ensuring that the youth focus groups would be facilitated and recorded by youth representatives themselves. These results suggest that both communities and the research design and implementation can realize substantial benefits from a communityengaged public sociology approach.

The community focus groups: implementation My most important role after the Krueger training was to serve as the trainer of the community (including the youth) facilitators and recorders. As the only person with research background, the advisory board and project staff felt very strongly that I should lead and oversee all aspects of the focus group component of the needs assessment, as I had done with the community survey. The trainings were held over a series of days in community settings. Participants were highly engaged and clearly motivated by a desire to do this well, given the importance of the information to the community. In order to preserve the integrity of the community-engaged process, I participated at some level in all focus groups primarily as an observer. I sought to be as inconspicuous as possible but did take my own notes to compare to the audio transcriptions of the groups and the recorder notes and flip chart recordings used by the youth groups. I used all sources in completing the analysis of the focus groups. The community’s buy-in to the whole process made the training and subsequent conduct of the focus groups more seamless than I could have imagined. Still, the facilitators and recorders were quick to seek my approval that they had learned the roles correctly. It was interesting, 98

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from a sociological perspective, how those selected, in many ways the most capable, rather than the most willing, maintained the clarity and distribution of social roles (e.g., leader or outside expert and community participant), though I sought to minimize these distinctions. Even in a publicly focused approach, the importance of social roles (Linton 1936; Ogburn and Nimkoff 1940; Kahn 1964) is strong. The focus groups yielded an incredibly rich source of information. I would argue that the added value of a community-engaged public sociology approach was the primary reason. The youth groups, in particular, were run like a classroom in which kids spoke openly because they were talking to other kids. Observing the youth groups was fun; the youth were extremely engaged, and the facilitators did an excellent job of keeping them on track. One caveat to this success was that the groups contained a lot of free-flowing conversation, which was not as amenable to actionable recommendations that could have been more useful to staff. But the open sharing by youth suggests these were real community issues.

The results of the needs assessment, and beyond Reporting of results is a requirement of the role of evaluator. Some of this takes the form of standard reporting to the funder (federal agency in this case). These reports are almost always dry, boring, long, extremely detailed and they can be hard to follow for those less bureaucratically inclined. Yet they are necessary for a full accounting of the process and findings of a research study. These reports were joint efforts between project and evaluation staff, both of whom were required to report project activities. Beyond the federal and state reporting requirements, the board and community participants in all levels of the needs assessment were very clear in their expectation that results of the study be shared back with them. This helped in the generation of much more interesting and community-useful resources than the government-mandated reports. Additional reporting requests made by board members and project staff insisted on summary reports that were digestible by non-researchers. In response to this community demand, I created several one- and two-page results summaries and additional ‘fact sheets’ for wide-scale distribution. These were summarized in a bullet-point format (and in appealing fonts suggested by the board and focus group helpers). Most importantly, the reports needed to be structured around recommended directions for the project and general community. The final component of the reporting was an expectation that results be shared with the wider community in a series of town hall meetings. I was available to participate in community meetings where the information was shared, but board members felt strongly that it was their role to communicate with their fellow community members. Because they had been part of the process, they had a good understanding of the data findings and were comfortable leading these events (I shared their enthusiasm). Building relationships rather than just working together gives a much higher level of confidence in each other’s abilities and affords those not trained in our field skill-enhancing opportunities, another compelling byproduct of public sociology. In the end, the findings were extensively used by project staff in their planning, including their selection, of direct service activities to offer to the community. Perhaps the best outcome of all this work was ongoing community engagement. In part through the advisory board, but largely through independent work by the community sector representatives on the board in their home agencies, additional focus groups were organized and conducted at later points in the project. The youth, in particular, insisted on hosting multiple series of groups in the subsequent years to keep track of the pulse of youth in the county school 99

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districts. These processes were not part of the structured outside evaluation I  led, but their results could become part of the ongoing evaluation I was conducting as contributing ‘data.’ Much more importantly, they sustained the community’s ownership of its processes and of the use of dependable information to inform decisions.

Discussion What may be most important about the process described in this case study is that the evaluation design, implementation and the ensuing results were, in fact, better because of the communityengaged process. There has been active debate in research circles (and sociology, for that matter) over many years about carrying out research as an active participant versus outside observer. The field of evaluation is rife with debates about appropriate roles for evaluators. Led by the likes of Michael Scriven (1987; Donaldson and Scriven 2003), from the ‘Evaluator as Independent Observer’ camp, and Michael Quinn Patton (1982, 2012), from the ‘Evaluator as Participant’ camp, these debates are ongoing. One of the most important benefits of a community-engaged approach, from the perspective of the researcher, is enhanced access to data sources, populations and additional needed resources. In a rural county such as the one described here, access would have been virtually impossible using a more traditional model. And interpretation of any resulting data would have been, at best, a guessing game. Though these ‘public’ approaches may be necessary in a setting such as this one, I believe their use can enhance all environments. Perhaps some evidence of the success of the community-engaged approach relates to a core goal of many federally funded community projects. It is often hoped that grantees (communities in this case) will create a plan for sustaining themselves post funding (Johnson, Collins, and Wandersman 2013; Mandinach 2012; Schell et al. 2013). This particular project not only sustained itself for ten additional years beyond the five original funded years, but they expanded to two additional counties within the state and utilized the same participatory model in each. I remained their evaluator for most of those years and never had to impose my approach on them. It had become embedded, even with project staff and board member turnover. We might be able to transfer the debates in the evaluation and research worlds to the varied ways of practicing sociology. As described at the outset, Burawoy initiated a fairly intense debate about the value of public versus professional sociology, with notable implications for the field referred to as applied sociology or sociological practice. Embedded within these discussions is the relative merit of functioning as a sociologist within or outside the academy. Most professions offer an identity for their graduates outside of their academic standing. We know what psychologists, economists, historians, anthropologists do for a living, whether they are academics or not. Could it be that the applied focus of much of sociology, including public sociology, is enhanced by the existence of sociological professionals, especially to the extent that they engage in specific application of sociological principles in their professional settings? By embracing the ways academic sociologists engage in the public sphere from whatever home base they choose, we might more easily translate the value of our principles to others. Though this case study focuses on research and evaluation strategies at the expense of explicit mention of sociological concepts, it has strong ties to many of these principles. Robert Putnam (2000) mourned the decline of civic engagement and advocated for the promotion of social capital. In a subsequent work, social capital enacted by social entrepreneurs was seen as a cure to the loss of community (Putnam and Feldstein 2003). Merton and Barber (2004) spoke of the ways unexpected findings allow theory and science to progress together. The current study was full of unexpected findings that helped research and community move forward 100

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together. And the exploding field of social determinants of health speaks directly to the value of social participation, including access to communities and socially rewarding relationships (Marmot 2004), evident among community members, project staff and the evaluators in this study. More to the point, the goal of making sociology publicly relevant is ever present. Building community practice, growing community skills and participation in areas they have not considered, and leaving behind tools and knowledge for their continued use, may be as important a way to promote social change as more radical approaches – as noted at the outset, creating change from within. It seems anything that makes sociology more accessible to the many publics whose lives we hope to benefit is a highly worthwhile undertaking.

Conclusion It is my sincere hope that this paper has made a case for the extra value an applied, communityengaged research approach by practicing sociologists can bring to a larger public sociology perspective. Though the evaluation component of the community project described here cannot assume all the credit for the project’s success or its sustainability, it no doubt helped the community build its future successes. A community-engaged public sociology approach greatly increases the probability that something will be left behind, and these studies can be conducted without a loss of research integrity.

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Substance Abuse and Mental Health Service Administration. 2013. One Voice, One Community: Building Strong and Effective Partnerships Among Community and Faith Organizations. Rockville, MD: SAMHSA Publication. Watkins, R., M. West Meiers, and Y. Visser. 2012. A Guide to Assessing Needs: Tools for Collecting Information, Making Decisions, and Achieving Development Results. Washington, DC: World Bank. Will, Jeffrey A., Tracy A. Milligan, and Tim Cheney. 2009. “Community Research Tactics and Social Change: Assessing Needs and Assets in an Inner City Neighborhood.” In Doing Sociology. Case Studies in Sociological Practice. Washington, DC: Lexington Books. Wilson, Elena. 2018. “Community-Based Participatory Action Research.” Pp.  1–15 in Handbook of Research Methods in Health Social Sciences. New York City: Springer. Yin, Robert K., Shakeh J. Kaftarian, and Nancy F. Jacobs. 1996. “Empowerment Evaluation at Federal and Local Levels.” In Empowerment Evaluation: Knowledge and Tools for Self-Assessment and Accountability, edited by David Fetterman, S.K. Kaftarian, and Abe Wandersman. London: Sage.

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9 Building connections and broadening horizons through interdisciplinary public sociology Catherine Mobley

We are not students of some subject matter, but students of problems. And problems may cut right across the borders of any subject matter or discipline. (Popper 1963:88)

Public sociologists are presented with diverse options when choosing to engage in communitybased research. For example, consider the following two scenarios. Scenario 1: The staff of the local food bank has noted an increase in questions from community members about how best to prepare fresh vegetables. The executive director has asked you to help them determine whether the agency should expand its services to include nutrition education. After some discussion, you decide to conduct a needs assessment as you have strengths in this particular method anyway. You are also hoping to build your research agenda on the topic of food insecurity and food access. Scenario 2: Several staff members of a local advocacy group are concerned about the increased rates of food insecurity in the four-county region that the group serves. They are concerned about inadequate access to healthy and nutritious food and the increase in food swamps and food deserts, especially in minority communities. Group members would like your assistance in exploring the causes and consequences of food insecurity and formulating policy recommendations for best addressing food access. Their ultimate goal is to develop a Food Policy Council that will spearhead the development of a regional food policy. These two scenarios describe projects that are typically undertaken by sociologists conducting community-based research. However, the agency priorities are different for each scenario, especially pertaining to the type of collaboration required to address agency needs. Much of the discussion about crossing boundaries in public sociology relates to traversing the borders between the university and the community. In this respect, sociologists must make several decisions during the early stages of their public scholarship – for example, related to the theoretical approaches and methodological tools that will be employed during the research endeavor. Another important consideration is deciding whether the initiative will involve researchers from other disciplines.

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In the past decade, there has been an increased call for interdisciplinary research, mostly directed toward researchers based in the academy, with agencies such as the National Science Foundation and the National Institutes of Health in the USA providing funding for interdisciplinary projects. This type of interdisciplinary research often serves the goals of ‘traditional’ public sociology in that the discipline’s interests are paramount and the publics addressed through such research are often not visible or active (Burawoy 2005:7). Scenario 1 has some elements of this traditional approach. In contrast, an ‘organic,’ interdisciplinary public sociology addresses the interests of the community and highlights the importance of community-based knowledge as a source of innovation for driving community change. This approach harnesses the perspectives and skills of experts from multiple disciplines to address community issues and would be particularly well suited for the types of situations described in Scenario 2. The goal of this chapter is to encourage public sociologists to build bridges with colleagues from other disciplines to engage in interdisciplinary public sociology. The chapter begins with a brief overview of the various types of interdisciplinarity, followed by a discussion of the connection between public sociology and interdisciplinary work. As social problems are inevitably rooted in community members’ everyday experiences, the community itself must be viewed as its own field of knowledge (or, ‘discipline’) that is integral to such endeavors, a topic discussed in the third section. I then provide insights from an interdisciplinary public sociology project addressing the impacts of COVID-19 on food insecurity. The chapter concludes with recommendations for engaging in interdisciplinary public sociology projects. I contend that while discipline-based public sociology may be appropriate for some communitybased endeavors, interdisciplinary public sociology is especially relevant and important, as we currently face vexing challenges – including climate change, persistent inequality and health disparities – that are local, national and global in scope. As suggested by the opening quote from Popper (1963), most social problems cannot be neatly confined within a particular disciplinary silo. Interdisciplinary collaborations hold promise for more fluid and dynamic solutions to social problems and may ultimately result in policies that are more responsive to communitybased issues. Interdisciplinarity can also help meet the demands from policymakers and funders that research be better integrated with society and communities (Barry, Born, and Weszkalnys 2008), a central goal of public sociology.

Defining interdisciplinarity In a general sense, a discipline represents a specific body of knowledge characterized by distinct assumptions, concepts, theories and methods (Repko and Szostak 2017:4). Disciplines share a particular culture (or ‘community of practice’), epistemology (ways of knowing the world) and shared language (a symbol system, discourse and semiotic language; Nikitina 2005:393). In essence, disciplines are lenses through which we view, research and interpret the world (Repko and Szostak 2017:31). In turn, a discipline’s ‘intellectual center of gravity’ (Repko and Szostak 2017:34) shapes the teaching, research and professional training and socialization within that field of study. When making choices about the disciplinary foundation for a project, the possibilities for public sociology range on a continuum from discipline-based projects to transdisciplinary research. Using Nikitina’s (2005) definition of discipline provided above, disciplinary research (also known as specialization, monodisciplinarity or unidisciplinarity) refers to work that is conducted entirely within the bounds of a particular disciplinary culture, epistemology and language. In terms of knowledge production, disciplinary research generally results in Mode 1 knowledge,

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in that it is discipline driven, is primarily based in universities, focuses on theoretically driven research and is experimental in nature. It is hierarchical and emphasizes the independence of scientists, with a focus on universal knowledge and generating knowledge for its own sake, rather than being carried out for application purposes (Gibbons et al. 1994; Nowotny, Scott, and Gibbons 2001; Tebes 2018). Repko, Szostak, and Buchberger (2019:50–53) note that some, but not all, disciplinary research has the potential to possess several shortcomings. Such specialized research: (1) can blind us to the broader context, (2) can produce tunnel vision, (3) tends to discount or ignore other perspectives, (4) can hinder creative breakthroughs, (5) does not address complex problems comprehensively and (6) applies a past approach to the present. Thus, while these bounded areas of understanding may work well within the confines of academia, the world that public sociologists seek to understand and change is complex and often necessitates an approach that best matches that complexity. Although the discipline of sociology provides us with unique and valuable theories and methods for proceeding with our applied work, the discipline can also operate as a set of blinders, constraining us from considering alternative viewpoints and solutions to social challenges. As the situation warrants, public sociologists may want to consider other alternatives to their engaged scholarship that involve partnerships with other disciplines. Further along the continuum toward greater collaboration is multi-disciplinary research through which scholars and practitioners from different disciplines bring their theories, methods, data and skills to the understanding and resolution of community-based challenges. The researchers may engage in the work in tandem, or ‘proximately’ with one another (Moran 2010:14), but they generally operate independently, or sequentially, and adhere to their own disciplinary outlooks (Haines, Godley and Hawe 2011:1). The research does not necessarily proceed in an organized, integrated fashion and is additive in nature (Kamp 2017). In such projects, researchers are generally unchanged in outlook, methods and theory (Institute of Medicine 2005:29) and thus retain their own perspectives when a project is completed (Haines et al. 2011). As a third option, interdisciplinary research and public sociology would encompass a more integrative, concerted effort through which collaborators jointly define and address a community challenge. Time and effort are devoted to ‘integrating information, data, techniques, tools, perspectives, concepts, and/or theories from two or more disciplines’ (Institute of Medicine 2005:2). Such ‘work blurs the boundaries between disciplines and tears down the walls’ (Kamp 2017:para. 13) and is multiplicative in nature. In the original conception of interdisciplinary research, investigators remain rooted in their own disciplinary perspectives and generally do not synthesize methods and theories (Rosenfield 1992). However, for the purposes of this chapter promoting interdisciplinary public sociology, I adhere to Repko and Szostak’s (2017) and the Institute of Medicine’s (2005) notions that interdisciplinary research is characterized by integration and synthesis. The final general mode of collaboration available to public sociologists is transdisciplinary research, which explicitly synthesizes knowledge, theories and methods from multiple disciplines to achieve a new understanding of problems across disciplines (Nash 2008; Roux et al. 2010). This collaboration results in new concepts, theories and methods (Rosenfield 1992), sometimes generating a new hybrid discipline (Tebes 2018). Such research, labeled ‘interdisciplinarity plus’ (Repko and Szostak 2017:25), is applied and locally focused. This approach is complementary to public sociology in its emphasis on the ‘integration . . . of insights generated outside the academy . . . [and] the active involvement of nonacademic participants in research design’ (Repko and Szostak 2017:25; emphasis in original). Transdisciplinary research can also promote social justice (Tebes 2018).

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In terms of knowledge production, interdisciplinary and transdisciplinary research results in Mode 2 knowledge that is more directly aligned with the practices and principles of public sociology. It is carried out in the ‘context of application’ (Gibbons et al. 1994:3) and thus is accountable to not only the university, but to community partners, including government, industry and a variety of economic and public stakeholders. The knowledge gained from such endeavors is co-produced with these stakeholders and is ‘socially distributed, collaborative and transparent’ (Tebes 2018:17). This knowledge is derived from and embedded in local contexts and is thus ‘more attuned to specific places’ (Chavarro, Tang, and Rafols 2014:196). As a result, Mode 2 science results in knowledge that is ‘socially robust’ (Chavarro et al. 2014:196). In the context of public sociology, Mode 2 knowledge and transdisciplinary work results in several ‘solutions oriented’ outcomes, including capacity building, consensus building, mediation and legitimation (Knapp et al. 2019:2). In one formulation, this mode of knowledge is termed consilience: the ‘jumping together of knowledge’ across disciplines ‘to create a common groundwork of explanation’ (Wilson 1998:8).

Understanding interdisciplinarity within the context of public sociology As public sociologists, we work in community-based settings in which citizens face challenges that are inherently interdisciplinary in nature. In many situations, addressing real-world challenges in the public arena requires expertise from more than one discipline. If sociology is organized in a way that enables the discipline to be ‘responsive to diverse publics’ (Burawoy 2005:23), then it follows that an interdisciplinary approach can effectively capture and account for those diverse voices. An ecological framework (Bronfenbrenner 1992) reflects this perspective in its tenet that individuals and families are influenced by various social groups, institutions and structural factors. Each of these layers, and the sub-layers in between, represent different disciplinary domains, beyond the scope of sociology, for example, that must be tapped in order to provide a fully comprehensive picture of what is happening within a community. The complex nature of these problems necessitates multiple perspectives about the causes, consequences and solutions to societal challenges. For example, the resolution of inequality more broadly requires expertise in sociology, public health, communications, economics, political science and more. The successful implementation of policy initiatives, beyond the research about the causes and consequences of social problems, requires diverse disciplinary perspectives as well. In his discussion of the ‘promise and perils’ of interdisciplinarity for the discipline of sociology, Burawoy (2013:14–17) presents an organizing framework for understanding interdisciplinarity. The framework considers the types of knowledge (instrumental versus reflective) and audience (academic versus extra-academic). The two types of activities geared toward the extra-academic audiences are joint-disciplinarity (directed toward generating instrumental/ policy knowledge for extra-academic audiences) and multi-disciplinarity (directed toward generating reflexive/public knowledge for extra-academic audiences). The former is characterized by coordination of various disciplines involved in the endeavor, while the latter is characterized by collaboration. Burawoy (2013:19) recognizes the strength of interdisciplinarity ‘through the creation of new disciplinary arrangements that renew meaning in the local context and rebuild connections to publics.’ When reflecting on the future of Canadian sociology, Puddephat and McLaughlin (2015:311) discuss the convergence of calls for trans-disciplinarity and public sociology in which ‘sociologists

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might better connect with the publics they serve.’ Nyden, Hossfeld, and Nyden (2012:37) hint at the benefits of interdisciplinarity in their book on public sociology, stating that ‘discovery and innovation frequently come when we are confronted with new ideas, different ways of doing things, and different ways of looking at a problem.’ Interdisciplinary research is common in applied research, especially endeavors that focus on local issues (Chavarro et  al. 2014) and in which researchers have experience or connections with community partners, including industry and government (Carayol and Nguyen-Thi 2005; van Rijnsoever and Hessels 2011). Foray and Gibbons (1996) note a connection between interdisciplinarity and application of research to broader problem-solving approaches. There is a distinct link between applied socially relevant research and interdisciplinarity (Chavarro et al. 2014). Other communities of practice, including evaluation research (Roux et al. 2010) community psychology (Perkins and Schensul 2017), community development (Butterfield and Korazim-Korosy 2007) and public administration (Meek and Newell 2005) recognize the value of interdisciplinary research. Despite the benefits of interdisciplinarity, there is little guidance about the nature of community-based interdisciplinary research endeavors (Stokols 2006). Butterfield and KorazimKorosy (2007) note experts rarely receive training in interdisciplinary research or encouragement to embark on this kind of research. While Nyden et al.’s book (2012) on public sociology offers useful guidance for embarking on applied work, the book includes just one case study that explicitly discusses working across disciplines, in this case to address environmental health and environmental justice (Cordner, Cohen, and Brown 2012). Also, students are encouraged to forge connections across disciplines, but more as a way to identify colleagues who ‘may serve as mentors or as sounding boards for your community engagement’ (Nyden et al. 2012:57) rather than to explore research opportunities per se. The Handbook on Public Sociology (Jefferies 2009), while an invaluable resource, does not explicitly address interdisciplinary work. Overall, sociologists may be reluctant to pursue such projects in the first place. Faculty already experience penalties in their journey toward tenure for engaging in discipline-based applied public sociology. To engage in interdisciplinary public sociology may then put faculty in ‘double jeopardy,’ as such scholarship is often not credited for tenure. Thus, the academic reward structure is ill equipped and ill structured to reward interdisciplinary public sociology. Practitioners may also feel that such work would weaken the discipline and one’s professional identity. Burawoy (2013:9) contends that while we need both disciplinarity and interdisciplinarity, the ‘peril’ lies in the possibility that interdisciplinarity could ‘dissolve the very “discipline” required for any serious scholarship or science.’ However, studies show that interdisciplinary research can actually strengthen disciplines and results in a more complex conception of the disciplines, a ‘stretching of the core concepts and theories to respond to the challenge offered by another discipline’ (Nikitina 2005:409). A willingness to engage in such research ‘does not mean obliteration or subjugation of one’s own voice’ and ultimately can lead to innovative theories and methods (Nikitina 2005:403). Louvel’s (2015:68–69) investigation of nanoscience research revealed that interdisciplinary projects ‘do not efface the boundaries of those disciplines’ and can ‘help protect disciplinary boundaries and extend discipline territories.’ Such an approach can put us at our learning edge, as we consider new ways of applying our sociological expertise in concert with colleagues from other disciplines. We begin to see our discipline, and ourselves, in a new light. Our taken-for-granted ways of speaking ‘sociologese’ are brought to the fore, as we attempt to communicate with scientists from other disciplines. Such research enables a cross-fertilization of ideas to address complex problems, eliciting more holistic understandings that would not emerge otherwise. The development of a robust 108

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interdisciplinary research team could also increase access to funds, considering funders’ increased support for this approach. The sharing of methodological techniques can enhance the productivity of a research team. Interdisciplinary research also provides students with a valuable learning experience (Mobley et al. 2014; van Rijnsoever and Hessels 2011). Emphasizing the value of interdisciplinarity to our students will illustrate to them that working together means going beyond the buzz words of ‘collaboration’ and ‘team work’ to encompass the ability to understand and respect diverse ways of understanding the world and tackling social problems.

The role of the public in interdisciplinary public sociology Through organic public sociology, sociologists work ‘in close connection with a visible, thick, active, local and often counter-public’ (Burawoy 2005:7). Our potential community partners do not lead unidimensional lives and nor are their experiences monolithic. Rather, they experience the multi-dimensional nature of the very problems we investigate and have multiple truths to offer about their day-to-day experiences with these challenges. A dynamic interdisciplinary public sociology should thus integrate the science of sociology with community members’ perspectives and experiences. That is, as we conduct interdisciplinary public sociology in the public arena, it is essential to engage the community not only as stakeholders, but also as offering a unique perspective on social issues. Community members possess localized, culturally situated and contextualized knowledge that we may not have (Tebes 2018; Tebes and Thai 2018). As Kamp (2017:para. 14) claims, ‘[R]eal-life projects are always interdisciplinary, where non-scientific aspects are all in the game.’ Various community stakeholders represent ‘worlds that have their own rules, norms, languages, reference points, and constraints’ (Schalet, Tropp, and Troy 2020:11). In addition, the shifting nature of networks and boundaries in a community ‘all respond (unwittingly) to complexity and all reflect an (unconscious) interdisciplinary approach’ (Meek and Newell 2005:325). From the perspective of interdisciplinarity, our community partners are co-constructors and co-producers of knowledge that is essential for our community-based research. Such applied knowledge production is ‘a fertile seedbed for the emergence of novelty’ (Nowotny and Ziman 2002, as cited in Chavarro et al. 2014:197). Just as we bring our own sociological knowledge and methods to the table, our community partners bring their knowledge of local politics, social networks, historical context and more to the collaborative research endeavor. This communitybased knowledge and community members’ insights into their lived experiences brings the interdisciplinary nature of community problems to the surface. This idea of the public as offering a valuable source of knowledge while engaged in our research is reinforced by Meek and Newell (2005:37): Citizens have a kind of expertise from seeing community problems up close every day that is unavailable to scholars who see those problems from a distance through a disciplinary lens. Citizens also have an expertise in policy implementation that comes from local knowledge of the community and immediate awareness of the impacts of policy that are unavailable to scholars who see larger patterns and assess impacts over a longer time horizon. Tebes (2018) argues that linking interdisciplinarity with public involvement is essential in the co-production of knowledge that can promote justice. The integration of social justice and reflexivity in public sociology closely matches critical interdisciplinarity, which aims to ‘transform existing structures of knowledge and education’ (Klein 2005:56). 109

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A case study in interdisciplinary public sociology: food insecurity and COVID-19 (Note: Portions of this section were previously published in the June 2020 newsletter of the Association for Applied and Clinical Sociology (Mobley and Hossfeld 2020). Republished with permission.) Food insecurity is an ideal candidate for interdisciplinary public sociology, meeting several criteria identified by Repko and Szostak (2017). Food insecurity is complex, chronic and persistent, with ‘many moving parts’ (Hossfeld, Kelly, and Waity 2018:2). Food insecurity has been defined as a ‘wicked problem’ (Grochowska 2014), a challenge that ‘defies complete definition [and] for which there are no final solutions’ (Brown, Harris, and Russell 2010:4). As a social problem with many local manifestations, addressing food insecurity requires extensive collaboration with external stakeholders, which in turn necessitates time for strengthening community relationships, expanding opportunities for communication and engaging in reflection with partners in the collaborative endeavor (Lam et al. 2019). Due to its complex nature, then, food insecurity cannot be adequately addressed by one discipline (Vandermeer et al. 2018). Several studies have used an interdisciplinary approach to enrich our understanding of the causes, consequences and solutions to food insecurity (Doherty et al. 2019; Foran et al. 2014). An interdisciplinary perspective on food insecurity has revealed that food access is multi-dimensional, shaped by broader factors and ‘multiple stressors’ (Drimie and McLachlan 2013). This chapter is being finalized as the world enters its fourth month of physical distancing required due to the COVID-19 global pandemic of 2020. I am a part of an interdisciplinary research team trying to understand food insecurity challenges in the midst of this pandemic. The research team is currently focusing on rural communities in Upstate South Carolina. Food insecurity and food access are social problems that rural areas face on a daily basis. Rural regions of South Carolina, like the country and world, have been impacted by COVID-19, exacerbating already difficult situations. As community members have engaged in physical distancing, food sources have decreased, and food supply chains have been disrupted across the United States. As a result, the pandemic has intensified hunger and food insecurity throughout the country. As food insecurity scholars who study hunger and food access, we have watched from our quarantined locations the mounting problems in our communities and have struggled with ways to continue to examine and find solutions to this escalating crisis. Our initial applied research on food insecurity in the Upstate was based primarily in the discipline of sociology. In summer 2019, we embarked on research to assess hunger and food insecurity in Upstate South Carolina. Our project, ‘Hunger and Food Insecurity in Pickens County, SC, 2019,’ co-sponsored by the United Way of Pickens County, incorporated several methods, including community member surveys and interviews, key informant interviews, community focus groups, a survey of churches in the county and a transportation audit. The results revealed there is a thriving network of non-profit and government agencies and programs addressing hunger and food insecurity in the county (Mobley et al. 2019). However, hunger and food insecurity in the county is compounded by the existence of food deserts and the lack of public transportation, especially in more remote areas of the county. The research team has developed a multi-sector approach that would effectively harness community assets to meet the challenges associated with food access. We presented the results to the community in early February 2020. The following month, we began discussions with the United Way about initiating a Hunger Coalition that would use our study results to develop strategies for addressing hunger and food insecurity in the community. 110

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In fall 2019, we received funding from the BlueCross BlueShield of South Carolina Foundation to expand the Pickens County study to seven rural counties across the state. As this project had more of a health focus, we partnered with a colleague in the Department of Public Health Sciences at Clemson University. Data collection for this project was scheduled to begin in early summer 2020, with the deployment of a student research team to various areas of the state. The World Health Organization officially declared the rapidly spreading coronavirus outbreak a pandemic in mid-March 2020, setting the research team on an entirely different trajectory in our study of hunger and food insecurity. Since the onset of these unprecedented circumstances, the sociology–public health research team has expanded to include colleagues with expertise in communication science, land-use and planning, parks and recreation and food systems, thus enacting public sociology within an interdisciplinary context. By bringing to bear the perspectives and methods of multiple disciplines, we are investigating the on-the-ground experiences of community members who face hunger and food insecurity in the context of COVID-19. Currently, we are focusing on Oconee County, the northwesternmost county in South Carolina, bordering North Carolina to the north and Georgia to the east. Study results will inform and guide community stakeholders and farmers in the region to support equitable food access and improve food security in times of crisis. In the context of COVID-19, while hunger and food insecurity are challenging for Oconee County residents, especially those who have been unable to work, the circumstances have been further exacerbated after a devastating tornado struck in mid-April 2020. The combined effects of property damage, COVID-19 and related job loss, along with persistent, high poverty in some communities, have made it difficult for many county residents to meet their daily needs, such as food and shelter. Oconee County residents, especially low-income and minority groups, have been facing a crisis-within-a-crisis, struggling to repair or rebuild their homes and regain a sense of community, while also dealing with the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic. Communities across the nation face similar difficulties. In May and June 2020, in the wake of George Floyd’s death and the ensuing protests, communities are grappling with a potential crisis-within-acrisis-within-a crisis, as citizens address the intersectional concerns arising from food insecurity, the global pandemic and racial injustice. While we are still in the early stages of our research on food access in the midst of COVID19, we have benefited from our interdisciplinary approach and been enriched by our complementary perspectives on emergent issues related to food insecurity. As an illustration of the multi-dimensional nature of our research, Table 9.1 lists some key contributions from each field represented in the project. Table 9.1  Partial list of team member contributions to research on food insecurity Field

Potential contributions to investigating food insecurity

Sociology

Stratification, poverty and inequality; social justice; sociopolitical causes of hunger; community networks; critical perspectives; organizational networks Healthy behaviors and lifestyles; disease prevention; health promotion; health informatics; health communications Meaning-making; mass communication; intercultural communication; scientific communication; community rhetoric and discourse Community and regional planning; zoning; sustainable development; comprehensive plans; community-based food systems Youth development; community development; increasing access to healthy foods; food access in parks and open spaces

Public health Communication Planning/land use Parks and recreation

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This list of contributions is not mutually exclusive, nor is the list exhaustive. And it is very likely that the list will expand as we continue to work together and discuss and debate the next steps for our research. For example, drawing on our respective disciplines, the research team is currently discussing the best methods for collecting data in a way that prioritizes the safety of community members. We have used the Zoom web-based meeting platform to conduct stakeholder focus groups and in-depth interviews with community members who have been impacted by recent events. The development of understanding across disciplines has been an iterative process and will continue to evolve over the course of the project. Although the team is in the early stages of its interdisciplinary research, we have benefited from our collaboration across disciplinary lines. We have had spirited discussion about methods, for example, debating how we should recruit focus group participants, on the one hand, we discussed whether focus groups should comprise individuals who share similar characteristics, a ‘population health’ approach often used in public health, or whether to purposefully create focus groups with divergent stakeholders to better access points of conflict (an approach favored by some sociologists). All team members are conducting interviews, and each focus group has been conducted by someone from a different discipline. This will allow for different perspectives on qualitative data collection, coding and analysis, based on firsthand experience with the data collection. Also, we are in the early stages of developing a community resilience and capacity index that reflects the unique characteristics of the community. We anticipate that the index will capture the community’s ability to address several issues, including food insecurity, COVID19 and natural disasters. The development of this index will be informed by an integration of knowledge and understanding across the disciplines represented in our project. Such integration throughout our collaborative work, from data collection to data analysis through data sharing, is essential for generating novel insights into the causes and consequences of food insecurity and for developing innovative solutions to this challenge (Repko and Szostak 2017). We have engaged our community partners as key contributors to our understanding of food insecurity in the community. Our partners have assisted with participant recruitment, helped identify key needs and strengths and are building community support for this work. As we progress with our research, their collective wisdom and everyday experiences will be more than mere data for our project. They are essential partners in the co-production of knowledge about food access, offering on-the-ground insights throughout. Their insights will be foundational for shaping our understanding of food insecurity in the community, expanding our ability to develop an interdisciplinary framework for understanding this challenge and enhancing our knowledge about the application of sociology in an interdisciplinary applied context. The benefits of our interdisciplinary collaboration have become more apparent as the character of the COVID-19 crisis has shifted over time. For example, our team member from public health has provided valuable insights into public health data about the pandemic and about the potential benefits and challenges of community-based health initiatives during a pandemic. The sociologists on the team have contributed their knowledge about the intersectionality of race, class and geography in the confluence of events related to racial injustice and natural disasters. Our interdisciplinary conversations have helped us to refine our data collection strategies and theoretical frameworks. Repko and Szostak’s (2017) discussion about integrating insights across disciplines will be invaluable as we continue our data collection, analysis and interpretation. As described by authors, this process will involve both identifying conflicts between insights and their sources and creating common ground between disciplinary insights. Along the way, we have recognized the importance of yielding ground to one another for the greater cause 112

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of our research goals, a practice that requires a degree of curiosity and intellectual humility, as described in the next section.

Initiating an interdisciplinary public sociology project Including more partners to an interdisciplinary public sociology project generally requires more time and effort than discipline-based perspectives. As a first step toward this initiative, one must be open to transcending a monodisciplinary perspective and be open to engaging in interdisciplinary public sociology in the first place (Nikitina 2005). This criterion goes beyond methods and skills to encompass a habit and quality of mind, beginning with a willingness to step outside one’s disciplinary comfort zone (Stokols 2006:68). The emotional dimensions of interdisciplinary collaboration require empathy (Schalet et al. 2020) and deep, or empathic, listening with a critical stance (Meek and Newell 2005; Nikitina 2005). Successful interdisciplinary projects are characterized by several hallmarks of critical thinking, as defined by Paul and Eller (2007:16–17), including (1) intellectual integrity: being aware of the need to be true to one’s own thinking and to admit when there are inconsistencies in one’s thoughts and actions, (2) intellectual humility: the willingness to admit the limitations of one’s knowledge base and (3) intellectual courage: a willingness to consider ideas and viewpoints toward which we may have a negative disposition. Interdisciplinarity requires viewing partners from different disciplines through a lens of epistemological equity (Nikitina 2005) and necessitates ‘the ego-strength to come out from behind the mask of expertise’ (Meek and Newell 2005:332). Stokols (2006:68) emphasizes the need to be committed to mutual learning and building relationships through interdisciplinary research. As disciplines represent different cultures, interdisciplinary work also requires cultural competence and a respect for diversity (Reich and Reich 2006). All these practices can ultimately help to dissolve the boundaries between disciplines, helping researchers ‘move beyond pseudocompetitions and territorial disputes towards more productive and creative tensions around ever more complex problems’ (Brondizio 2017:para. 19). It is also important to be mindful of the level and extent of collaboration required for an interdisciplinary project. When considering which disciplines should be brought to bear in a particular endeavor, it may sometimes seem easiest to choose partners from complementary disciplines. However, Chavarro et al. (2014) contend that more complex local and applied challenges require broader partnerships that bring together disciplines that are relatively dissimilar from one another. There are certainly costs associated with having to traverse ‘cognitive distances’ (Noteboom 2000) to engage with partners from more remote disciplines, but in the end, this ‘distal interdisciplinarity’ ultimately results in more creative solutions (Chavarro et al. 2014). Perhaps the most important decision, and a first step before moving forward on interdisciplinary public sociology, is whether or not the problem under investigation is worthy of an interdisciplinary approach. This is the first decision point in Repko and Szostak’s (2017) multistep process for engaging in interdisciplinary research. As suggested by the opening quote to this chapter from Popper (1963), many of the problems we investigate in our communities cut across disciplinary lines. Overall, the decision to engage in interdisciplinary public sociology must be intentional. Such projects require careful planning. Merely including more disciplines in an additive, nonreflective fashion does not guarantee success. As reflected in a comment on Lowe’s (2013) blog post on interdisciplinarity, ‘Just because ingredients get mixed together does not mean the magic sauce will turn out to desired taste.’ Thus, it is essential that the various disciplines represented on a project are well articulated and inform one another (Lynch 2006:1120). 113

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Conclusion Real-life problems are interdisciplinary in nature, rarely falling within the boundaries or confines of one particular discipline. Making headway on such issues would benefit from an integration of theories, methods and concepts from different disciplines. This chapter has discussed some of the benefits of an interdisciplinary approach to public sociology. However, it is also important to note that deciding whether to engage in such projects is not an either/or decision. That is, disciplinarity and interdisciplinarity are not antithetical approaches. A  strong interdisciplinarity requires strong disciplinarity (Barbaza 2020; Repko and Szostak 2017). The choice to engage in disciplinary versus interdisciplinary research should be dictated by the unique nature of the public sociology project being considered. Indeed, there are creative tensions between the two approaches, as noted by Barbaza (2020). Moore (2012:xiii) reflects further on what this means for public sociology: Any discipline spends a lot of effort differentiating itself from others, sociology perhaps more than others. In my experience that process can lead to insularity and inward thinking. Public sociology helps us break out, but we must be intentional. Stokols (2006) encourages scientists to investigate more fully how to create successful interdisciplinary community-based research projects. This is especially necessary as our understanding of the world shifts, expands and contracts as a result of engaging in interdisciplinary public sociology. Collaborating across disciplinary lines will help us learn more about the factors that facilitate research collaborations. This knowledge can then be used to develop strategies for promoting such collaborations. Public sociologists can lead the way in these efforts. In The Sociological Imagination, Mills (1959:211) indirectly referred to an interdisciplinary framework, writing that a social scientist has the capacity to shift from one perspective to another, and in the process to build up an adequate view of a total society and of its components. It is this imagination, of course, that sets off the social scientist from the mere technician. Rather than reinforcing the trend toward disciplinary insularity, engaging in interdisciplinary research can ultimately engender what Mills (1959:211) called a ‘playfulness of mind’ that can lead to advances in tackling our most challenging social problems. In the end, building bridges to other disciplines to engage in interdisciplinary sociology makes us better sociologists, as we broaden our horizons to learn from one another, with the shared goal of understanding and resolving our communities’ most challenging problems.

References Barbaza, Remmon E. 2020. “The Bow and the Lyre: Towards a Healthy Tension Between Disciplinarity and Interdisciplinarity.” Kritika Kultura 33–34:311–317. Barry, Andrew, Georgina Born, and Gisa Weszkalnys. 2008. “Logics of Interdisciplinarity.” Economy and Society 37(1):20–49. doi:10.1080/03085140701760841. Brondizio, Eduardo S. 2017. “Interdisciplinarity as Collaborative Problem Framing.” Inside: Insights from the Social Sciences, Blog, Social Science Research Council, October 17. Retrieved (https://items.ssrc.org/ interdisciplinarity/interdisciplinarity-as-collaborative-problem-framing/).

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Bronfenbrenner, Urie. 1992. “Ecological Systems Theory.” Pp.  187–249 in Six Theories of Child Development: Revised Formulations and Current Issues, edited by R. Vasta. London: Jessica Kingsley Publishers. Brown, Valerie A., John Alfred Harris, and Jacqueline Yvette Russell, eds. 2010. Tackling Wicked Problems: Through the Transdisciplinary Imagination. Abingdon, Oxon: Earthscan. Burawoy, Michael. 2005. “For Public Sociology.” American Sociological Review 70(1):4–28. Burawoy, Michael. 2013. “Sociology and Interdisciplinarity: The Promise and the Perils.” Philippine Sociological Review 61(1):7–19. Butterfield, Alice, K. Johnson, and Yossi Korazim-Korosy. 2007. Interdisciplinary Community Development. Binghamton, NY: Haworth Press. Carayol, Nicolas and Thuc Uyen Nguyen-Thi. 2005. “Why Do Academic Scientists Engage in Interdisciplinary Research?” Research Evaluation 14(1):70–79. Chavarro, Diego, Puay Tang, and Ismael Rafols. 2014. “Interdisciplinarity and Research on Local Issues: Evidence from a Developing Country.” Research Evaluation 23(3):195–209. Cordner, Alissa, Alison Cohen, and Phillip Brown. 2012. “Case Study 2.1: Public Sociology for Environmental Health and Environmental Justice.” Pp. 97–106 in Public Sociology: Research, Action, and Change, edited by P.W. Nyden, L.H. Hossfeld, and G. Nyden. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Doherty, Bob, Jonathan Ensor, Tony Heron, and Patricia Prado. 2019. “Food Systems Resilience: Towards an Interdisciplinary Research Agenda.” Emerald Open Research 1(4):4. doi:10.12688/ emeraldopenres.12850.1. Drimie, Scott and Milla McLachlan. 2013. “Food Security in South Africa – First Steps Toward a Transdisciplinary Approach.” Food Security 5(2):217–226. Foran, Tira, James R.A. Butler, Liana J. Williams, Wolf J. Wanjura, Andy Hall, Lucy Carter, and Peter S. Carberry. 2014. “Taking Complexity in Food Systems Seriously: An Interdisciplinary Analysis.” World Development 61:85–101. Foray, Dominique and Michael Gibbons. 1996. “Discovery in the Context of Application.” Technological Forecasting and Social Change 53(3):263–277. Gibbons, Michael, Camille Limoges, Helga Nowotny, Simon Schwartzman, Peter B. Scott, and Martin Trowe. 1994. The New Production of Knowledge: The Dynamics of Science and Research in Contemporary Societies. London: Sage. Grochowska, Renata. 2014. “Specificity of Food Security Concept as a Wicked Problem.” Journal of Agricultural Science and Technology 4(10):823–831. Haines, Valerie A., Jenny Godley, and Penelope Hawe. 2011. “Understanding Interdisciplinary Collaborations as Social Networks.” American Journal of Community Psychology 47(1–2):1–11. Hossfeld, Leslie, E. Brooke Kelly, and Julia Waity. 2018. Food and Poverty: Food Insecurity and Food Sovereignty Among America’s Poor. Nashville, TN: Vanderbilt University Press. Institute of Medicine. 2005. Facilitating Interdisciplinary Research. Washington, DC: The National Academies Press. doi:10.17226/11153. Jefferies, Vincent, ed. 2009. Handbook of Public Sociology. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers. Kamp, Aldert. 2017. “Interdisciplinary Education: A  Wave of the Future?” Adapting Engineering Education to Change, blog, October  10. Retrieved (https://aldertkamp.weblog.tudelft.nl/2017/02/10/ interdisciplinary-education-a-wave-of-the-future/). Klein, Julie Thompson. 2005. Humanities, Culture, and Interdisciplinarity: The Changing American Academy. Albany: State University of New York Press. Knapp, Corrine Nöel, Robin S. Reid, María E. Fernández-Giménez, Julia A. Klein, and Kathleen A. Galvin. 2019. “Placing Transdisciplinarity in Context: A Review of Approaches to Connect Scholars, Society and Action.” Sustainability 11(18):1–25. doi:10.3390/su11184899. Lam, Steven, Michelle Thompson, Kathleen Johnson, Cameron Fioret, and Sarah K. Hargreaves. 2019. “Toward Community Food Security Through Transdisciplinary Action Research.” Action Research:1–18. doi:10.1177/1476750319889390.

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Louvel, Séverine. 2015. “Effects of Interdisciplinarity on Disciplines: A Study of Nanomedicine in France and California.” Revue Francais de Sociologie 56(1):64–90 (English edition). Retrieved (www.cairn-int. info/article-E_RFS_561_0075-effects-of-interdisciplinarity-on-discip.htm). Lowe, Derek. 2013. “Thought for the Day: On Interdisciplinary Research.” Who Discovers and Why, Blog, Science Magazine, March 20. Retrieved (https://blogs.sciencemag.org/pipeline/archives/2013/03/20/ thought_for_the_day_on_interdisciplinary_research). Lynch, John. 2006. “It’s Not Easy Being Interdisciplinary.”  International Journal of Epidemiology 35(5):119–1122. Meek, Jack W., and William H. Newell. 2005. “Complexity, Interdisciplinarity and Public Administration: Implications for Integrating Communities.” Public Administration Quarterly 29(3–4):321–349. Mills, C. Wright. 1959. The Sociological Imagination. London: Oxford University Press. Mobley, Catherine, and Leslie Hossfeld. 2020. “Hunger and Food Insecurity, a Global Pandemic and a Crisis-Within-a-Crisis: Applied Sociology in South Carolina.” Sociology at Work. Newsletter of the Association of Applied and Clinical Sociology, June. Retrieved (www.aacsnet.net/current-issue/2/). Mobley, Catherine, Cassius Hossfeld, Michelle Eichinger, and Leslie Hossfeld. 2020. Hunger and Food Insecurity in Pickens County, South Carolina: 2019. Clemson, SC: Clemson University College of Behavioral, Social and Health Sciences. Retrieved (www.clemson.edu/cbshs/about/building-communities/ images/uwpc-report.pdf). Mobley, Catherine, Cindy Lee, John C. Morse, Jeffery Allen, and Christine Murphy. 2014. “Learning About Sustainability: An Interdisciplinary Graduate Seminar in Biocomplexity.” International Journal of Sustainability in Higher Education 15(1):16–33. Moore, Dan. 2012. “Foreward.” Pp. xiii–ix in Public Sociology: Research, Action, and Change, edited by P.W. Nyden, L.H. Hossfeld, and G. Nyden. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Moran, Joe. 2010. Interdisciplinarity: The New Critical Idiom. 2nd ed. New York: Routledge. Nash, Justin M. 2008. “Transdisciplinary Training: Key Components and Prerequisites for Success.” American Journal of Preventive Medicine 35:S133–S40. Nikitina, Svetlana. 2005. “Pathways of Interdisciplinary Cognition.” Cognition and Instruction 23(3):389–425. Noteboom, Bart. 2000. “Learning by Interaction: Absorptive Capacity, Cognitive Distance, and Governance.” Journal of Management and Governance 4(1):69–92. Nowotny, Helga, Peter B. Scott, and Michael Gibbons. 2001. Re-Thinking Science: Knowledge and the Public in an Age of Uncertainty. 1st ed. London: Polity. Nowotny, Helga and John Ziman. 2002. Synopsis of the Symposium Localized Science, Novelty, Plurality and Narratives. Switzerland, January  21–22. Retrieved (http://h-net.msu.edu/cgi-bin/logbrowse. pl?trx=vx&list=h – soz-u-kult&month=0201&week=c&msg=). Nyden, Philip W., Leslie H. Hossfeld, and Gwendolyn Nyden. 2012. Public Sociology: Research, Action, and Change. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Paul, Richard and Linda Eller. 2007. The Miniature Guide to Critical Thinking: Concepts and Tools. Tomales, CA: The Foundation for Critical Thinking. Perkins, Douglas D. and Jean J. Schensul. 2017. “Interdisciplinary Contributions to Community Psychology and Transdisciplinary Promise.” Pp. 189–209 in APA Handbook of Community Psychology: Theoretical Foundations, Core Concepts, and Emerging Challenges, edited by M.A. Bond, C.B. Keys, and I. SerranoGarcía. 1 vol. 2nd ed. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association. Popper, Karl R. 1963. Conjectures and Refutations: The Growth of Scientific Knowledge. New York: Routledge and Kegan Paul. Puddephatt, Antony J. and Neil McLaughlin. 2015. “Critical Nexus or Pluralist Discipline? Institutional Ambivalence and the Future of Canadian Sociology.” Canadian Review of Sociology/Revue Canadienne de Sociologie 52(3):310–332. Reich, Stephanie M. and Jennifer A. Reich. 2006. “Cultural Competence in Interdisciplinary Collaborations: A Method for Respecting Diversity in Research Partnerships.” American Journal of Community Psychology 38(1–2):51–62. Repko, Allen F., and Rick Szostak. 2017. Interdisciplinary Research: Process and Theory. 3rd ed. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. 116

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Repko, Allen F., Rick Szostak, and Michelle Phillips Buchberger. 2019. Introduction to Interdisciplinary Studies. 3rd ed. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Rosenfield, Patricia. 1992. “The Potential of Transdisciplinary Research for Sustaining and Extending Linkages Between the Health and Social Sciences.” Social Science and Medicine 35(11):1343–1357. Roux, Dirk J., Richard J. Stirzaker, Charles M. Breen, E.C. Lefroy, and Hamish P. Cresswell. 2010. “Framework for Participatory Reflection on the Accomplishment of Transdisciplinary Research Programs.” Environmental Science & Policy 13(8):733–741. Schalet, Amy T., Linda R. Tropp, and Lisa M. Troy. 2020. “Making Research Usable Beyond Academic Circles: A  Relational Model of Public Engagement.” Analyses of Social Issues and Public Policy:1–21. doi:10.1111/asap.12204. Stokols, Daniel. 2006. “Toward a Science of Transdisciplinary Action Research.” American Journal of Community Psychology 38(1–2):79–93. Tebes, Jacob Kraemer. 2018. “Team Science, Justice, and the Co-Production of Knowledge.” American Journal of Community Psychology 62(1–2):13–22. Tebes, Jacob Kraemer and Nghi D. Thai. 2018. “Interdisciplinary Team Science and the Public: Steps Toward a Participatory Team Science.” American Psychologist 73(4):549–562. Vandermeer, John, Aniket Aga, Jake Allegeier, Catherine Badgley, Regina Baucom, Jennifer Blesh, Lilly F. Shapiro, et al. 2018. “Feeding Prometheus: An Interdisciplinary Approach for Solving the Global Food Crisis.” Frontiers in Sustainable Food Systems 2:39. doi:10.3389/fsufs.2018.00039. van Rijnsoever, Frank J. and Laurens K. Hessels. 2011. “Factors Associated with Disciplinary and Interdisciplinary Research Collaboration.” Research Policy 40(3):463–472. Wilson, Edward. O. 1998. Consilience: The Unity of Science. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.

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Section IV

Case studies in public sociology

A key concern of this Handbook is to examine public sociology from an international lens. By providing examples of case studies throughout the world, this Handbook on public sociology becomes valuable for a broad range of audiences. This section on case studies views perspectives of social life in the United States, Taiwan, the Philippines and India, in order to broaden perspectives on what public sociological study can achieve. These chapters differ in content, as Price et al. examine how the relationships between local organizations can better a community, while Debal K. SinghaRoy examines collective movements in rural India through a historical context. The differences in the publics these researchers choose to study are valuable because each author applies their sociological rigor to understanding a defined public, through case study. Included in this section is a study on US critical public sociology through the lens of the Canadian scholar Kimberley Ducey.

10 The Healthy Dearborn coalition An interdisciplinary, continuing collaboration between university, health, government and community in Southeast Michigan Carmel E. Price, Paul Draus, Rose Wellman, Sara Gleicher, Hala Alazzawi, Kathleen Pepin, David Norwood and Natalie R. Sampson

Launched in 2015 with the aim of preventing chronic disease through the promotion of healthy lifestyles, Healthy Dearborn (HD) (www.healthydearborn.org) is a diverse, cross-sector partnership between Beaumont Health, the City of Dearborn, Dearborn public schools and more than 550 community members. Its formation reflected an effort by the Beaumont Health System to promote community health and wellness as a component of its obligations under the Affordable Care Act of 2010. Beaumont had merged with Dearborn-based Oakwood Health System in 2014 and recognized the need to understand the health landscape of the Dearborn community, while also contributing to improved population health outcomes. Sara Gleicher, Licenced Master Social Worker (LMSW), an experienced community organizer with a long history in health advocacy and municipal politics, was enlisted to coordinate the effort and immediately began reaching out to local residents and organizations. According to Gleicher (2018), ‘Healthy Dearborn is a multi-year initiative to prevent chronic disease by creating a “culture of health” where everyone enjoys healthy eating and active living.’ With Gleicher’s guidance, HD members are working together to achieve its stated vision for the city: ‘Dearborn, a thriving diverse community, will fully embrace a unified culture of health where everyone enjoys whole health, with equal access to healthy foods, health care, green space and opportunities for safe, active living.’ The coalition is organized into several key working groups, developed by its community members: Health Disparities and Health Equity, Healthy Environments, Healthy Foods, Inclusive Health Committee, Healthy Schools and Healthy at Work, as well as the research team. HD is also a collaboration between community members and faculty. In fall 2015, Gleicher was introduced to Dr. Paul Draus, professor of sociology at the University of Michigan–Dearborn (UMD), by a mutual acquaintance in the Detroit public health community. Dr. Carmel E. Price, another sociologist at UMD, became involved with HD shortly thereafter, and these 121

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relationships led to an evolving, multi-year collaboration that cut across the domains of teaching, research and advocacy. Faculty members from UMD in other areas, such as public health (Dr. Natalie R. Sampson) and anthropology (Dr. Rose Wellman), also joined the research team as did faculty from neighboring universities, including Wayne State University and the University of Michigan–Ann Arbor. This paper has two main purposes: 1) to describe the outcomes from this evolving partnership between HD and UMD from the perspectives of both university and community-based participants and stakeholders and 2) to examine public sociology as a concept and practice that can create cross-cutting links between public engagement and sociological theories and methods.

Public sociology at the University of Michigan–Dearborn According to Breese (2011:79), public sociology gives a name to ‘a sphere of sociological engagement that extends further into the community by partnering with others to produce knowledge that not only benefits society but is crafted by and critiqued by the individuals this knowledge is meant to assist.’ From this perspective, public sociology is not a new development but provides a coherent way of linking together a number of endeavors that sociologists have long engaged in, as researchers, teachers, theorists, advocates and activists (Hartmann 2016). However, Burawoy’s presidential address at the 2004 American Sociological Association meeting placed the term in high profile and inspired a series of discussions concerning the extent and impact of sociology’s engagement with the world outside the academy. According to Burawoy (2005), public sociology may be defined in contradistinction to standard academic (what he calls) ‘professional’ sociology: Public Sociology endeavors to bring sociology into dialogue with audiences beyond the academy, an open dialogue in which both sides deepen their understanding of public issues. But what is its relation to the rest of sociology? It is the opposite of Professional Sociology – a scientific sociology created by and for sociologists – inspired by public sociology but, equally, without which public sociology would not exist. The relation between professional and public sociology is, thus, one of antagonistic interdependence. (emphasis added) Burawoy’s conceptualization generated a lot of excitement and debate in the field of sociology. In his critique of Burawoy, titled ‘A Guide for the Perplexed,’ Brint (2005) begins by questioning the distinction between ‘professional’ and ‘public’ sociologies. According to Brint, the two roles are not antagonistic. In fact, the one flows from the other: The only reasonable basis that any public has for listening to sociologists is that their research or their discipline’s insights bear on issues of public moment. Everyone has passions and values; but only professors and doctorate-level researchers have the accumulated knowledge and research of an academic discipline to offer. They alone have the rigorous methods to prove or disprove ideas that have gained currency. (2005:48) Writing from the perspective of their experience at a diverse urban university in the United Kingdom, Gabriel et al. (2009) contend that the pursuit of social justice goals may take particular forms, reflective of that context. They list the following as examples: 122

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the University’s commitment to widen access to groups hitherto excluded from higher education; its support for research that consciously seeks to shape policy and enhance service delivery and, finally, the opportunities it provides to work collaboratively with marginalised communities in an ethos supportive of participatory methods and capacity building initiatives. (2009:310, emphasis added) The UMD, a branch campus of the state’s flagship research and teaching institution, the University of Michigan–Ann Arbor (UMAA), likewise maintains a distinct identity due to several factors: its location in Dearborn, an increasingly diverse small city located adjacent to the urban center of Detroit, Michigan; its student body, which is composed of a high percentage of non-traditional, first generation students; and its faculty, who have historically combined their various research interests with a focus on undergraduate teaching and a strong commitment to community engagement. Due to this particular context, the forms of public sociology at UMD are distinct from what they might be at the UMAA or the University of California, Berkeley, where Burawoy teaches. As a primarily undergraduate teaching institution, with a locally based student population, our public sociology also tends to be local in character, arising out of partnerships with communitybased organizations or local government agencies and engaging students through collaborations that may begin inside of classrooms but grow into more ambitious endeavors over time (Brooks 2004). In these respects, the HD-UMD partnership illustrates the interdisciplinary (Gabriel et al. 2009) and hybrid (Fairbairn 2019) nature of public sociology. In the sections to follow, we begin by discussing the specific context of Dearborn in more detail. We then describe some of the phases of collaboration between faculty and students at UMD and HD, from teaching to research. We employ these separate but overlapping phases (first, service-learning, and second, the HD research team) to demonstrate the value of seeing public sociology not as a compartmentalized domain separate from a larger ‘professional’ body, but as an interstitial, hybrid, unfolding endeavor, which constantly interacts with other aspects of sociology such as theory and methods. We conclude with a discussion of the outcomes of the HD-UMD collaboration and the additional questions it raises.

Introduction to the City of Dearborn: Arab context and 500 Cities data The 500 Cities Project (https://www.cdc.gov/places/about/500-cities-2016-2019/index.html) is currently our central dataset for understanding the health disparities in Dearborn. A partnership between the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) and the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, the 500 Cities Project provides a free, interactive tool where the largest 500 cities in the United States can see census-tract level estimates geographically mapped for measures of health outcomes, prevention and unhealthy behaviors. This allows users to understand the geographic distribution of health data and to better understand health disparities as they exist by census tract. The City of Dearborn is one of the largest 500 cities in the United States; upon learning about the release of the 500 Cities Project, the HD Coalition examined the data. See Figure 10.1 for an example of one of the maps generated by the 500 Cities interactive tool. Drawing from the 500 Cities Project as well as from the long-standing concerns of community members, HD began to focus on and make explicit the health disparities that exist between East and West Dearborn residents. For example, the 500 Cities data revealed that residents in South and East Dearborn experience rates of obesity at nearly 40% higher than rates among all city residents (25%). Rates of heart disease in South and East Dearborn are 1.5 times the 123

Figure 10.1  Sample map from 500 Cities project

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national average, and families experience rates of food insecurity greater than those living in the highest poverty areas of Detroit (Wolf 2014). U.S. Census data shows that residents living in Dearborn’s health disparity neighborhoods are predominantly from Middle Eastern populations. Yet because most Middle Easterners and Arabs are classified as ‘white’ by the U.S. Census Bureau, there is little data available on their health. Nevertheless, the Arab presence in the region is significant. Arabs comprise 5% of Michigan’s population and are estimated to make up over 42% of Dearborn’s population (Abraham, Howell, and Shryock 2011). Indeed, Dearborn, Michigan, is the heart of the so-called Arab Detroit (Baker et al. 2009). The majority of this population is from Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, Palestine, Jordan and Yemen. Dearborn and Greater Detroit also have a growing Muslim public sphere that includes mosques, Islamic charities, newspapers, food and clothing stores, civil rights organizations and an Islamic seminary. There are also approximately 97 mosques1 in Greater Detroit, and many of these are located in Dearborn (Abraham et al. 2011). In 2018, HD formed a new team called Health Disparities and Health Equity. This team was designed to make sure that health disparities, made visible by the 500 Cities data, are central to HD going forward. This new team is helping HD examine the 500 Cities data and has difficult conversations about structural inequalities. How, for instance, is zip code more predictive of health outcomes than biogenetic code? The Health Disparities and Health Equity team has further added HD evening quarterly meetings, that rotate to neighborhood locations throughout the city, to ensure that all people in Dearborn can participate in HD, and not just those who have the luxury to attend a meeting on Tuesday morning from 8:30 A.M. to 10:00 A.M. In addition, the team is developing an equity tool where all teams and HD programs can self-assess how well they are utilizing principles of inclusion and equity. As it relates to the goals of HD, the research team is also focused on addressing health disparities by assessing the settings of daily life in Dearborn (Newman et al. 2015).

Phase 1: service-learning project The first phase of collaboration between HD and UMD was a faculty-led service-learning project. Dr. Draus had been participating in HD as both a UMD faculty member (i.e., an ‘expert’) and as a community resident early in the group’s life. He saw an opportunity for service learning when his fall 2016 Health Policy course was meeting at the same day/time as monthly HD meetings. Gleicher also thought a service-learning opportunity would be mutually beneficial for HD and the students, so a project was launched. The students were working through the course curriculum while also attending HD meetings and integrating with the five community work groups initiated by HD coalition members: Healthy Schools, Healthy Worksites, Healthy Foods, Healthy at Play and Healthy Transportation.2 As active participants, the students set about trying to further HD’s goals within the course of the term. The progress of each group depended on the goals that had been defined by HD. For example, in the Healthy Foods group, Goal 1 was to ‘Link People to Healthy Food Options.’ In order to do this, the group decided that they first needed to understand what food options already existed in Dearborn and whether these could be defined as ‘healthy,’ according to standard criteria. They collaborated with Dr. Price, who was at that time in the Healthy Foods group and developed a survey that would enable the group to map the food geography of Dearborn and establish a baseline for measuring progress toward that first goal. By the end of the term, the students had developed a survey, gathered some initial data on food options at several Dearborn food outlets, including a major chain grocery store, a large locally based ethnic grocery store oriented toward Dearborn’s significant Arab-speaking 125

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population and a more boutique-style small-sized grocery store that catered to more affluent customers. They delivered a final presentation to an audience consisting of HD members as well as their classmates, concluding that Dearborn benefited from a relative bounty of food options, especially when compared to neighboring Detroit. However, there were gaps in terms of residents’ knowledge of these options, as well as their access in terms of either cost or geography. In their required final policy memo (addressed to the City of Dearborn), they made several recommendations: first, that Dearborn build on its food assets by exposing more people within the city to food options through improvements in the farmers market, food demonstrations and easy-to-understand healthy food guides available in both English and Arabic; second, that Dearborn residents and markets could increase healthy food access through participation in Michigan’s Double Up Food Bucks program, which allows people on food assistance to double their buying power when purchasing fresh fruits or vegetables; and third, that community-based education could raise awareness about the connections between food and health and begin to address disparities in obesity and diabetes that were evident in the community based on population health statistics. Although this was not formally a sociology course, and the students were interested largely in health-related fields, there were significant sociological skills involved at each level of the project, from community engagement with residents (interesting public sociology note – community engagement with residents is considered a ‘sociological skill’) to designing an appropriate research approach, applying available literature and making actionable recommendations.

Phase 2: the Healthy Dearborn research team The HD research team is composed of professors from UMD, UMAA and Wayne State University. It also includes researchers from organizations as diverse as Detroit Wayne County Health Authority and ACCESS, the largest social services agency serving Arab populations in the country. The research team’s goal is to collect data in order to develop and implement culturally responsive, effective and sustainable health improvement interventions that promote health equity in South and East Dearborn, predominantly Arab neighborhoods. To this end, UMD faculty, HD and its other affiliated researchers are currently collaborating with ACCESS to undertake a collaborative mixed-methods community survey research project to learn more about Dearborn’s health disparities. Baseline data on individuals’ attitudes about health, lifestyle behaviors, neighborhood health and social determinants of health are being collected through focus groups and survey research. The research team is also seeking community members’ input about possible health problems and interventions. Our aim is that Dearborn residents benefit from this research and that our results will help shape the allocation of new services, resources and policy changes in our community. In particular, we hope that our findings will help the HD coalition, in collaboration with the City of Dearborn, to create and implement evidence-based initiatives and interventions within the city. In addition to conducting IRB-approved research, HD’s research team helps HD hold community meetings. On September 27, 2018, HD held its first quarterly evening meeting. Keynote speakers included the mayor of Dearborn and MI state representative Abdullah Hammoud (15th House District). Over 100 community members were in attendance. After a short program where David Norwood, the City of Dearborn sustainability coordinator, discussed the history, mission, vision and accomplishments thus far of HD, the research team broke attendees into groups for what we called ‘listening sessions.’ Each group had a large map of Dearborn (on

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an easel), a researcher who facilitated, a notetaker and an Arabic translator. We asked the following questions: 1 2 3 4.

What does an ideal healthy community look like to you? What are the top three health needs for the City of Dearborn? What are the barriers to health and wellness in Dearborn? Earlier tonight you heard about the Healthy Dearborn coalition. What do you think of Healthy Dearborn’s initiatives and priorities so far? What is Healthy Dearborn doing well? What could be improved? 5 How do you see yourself, your family, friends or neighbors getting involved in Healthy Dearborn? 6 Is there anything else that you would like to tell us about health and wellness in Dearborn? Engaging conversations went on for about 45 minutes and had to be cut off to make announcements and adjourn the meeting. We learned a lot from this initial quarterly evening meeting and many of the subsequent, smaller neighborhood meetings where we have engaged with residents about their needs and interests. Programs have since been developed accordingly. For example, HD in partnership with Leaders Advancing and Helping Communities (LAHC) has started a female-only exercise program to meet the needs of some Muslim women who were seeking culturally appropriate spaces for exercising. These conversations have also been a key point of reference for the research team’s focus groups.

Ongoing challenges of coalition work: students as crucial volunteers HD faces several key challenges. Foremost among these are the time constraints of being a volunteer-based organization. As project manager, Gleicher brings more than 32  years of community-based experience to the leadership of the coalition. However, she is also the coalitions’ only paid staff member. All other coalition members are volunteers, and many work other jobs. As a result, and despite their great enthusiasm, most members are only able to contribute a few hours to HD between monthly meetings. Given these circumstances, and to maintain interest and morale, the leaders of the HD coalition have sought the help of professors at area universities who have access to student volunteers. The collaboration between HD and student volunteers in the area began when HD completed its first strategic plan in July 2016. It was evident that achieving HD’s objectives would require extensive time commitments exceeding members’ availability. Turning to students as a solution for this challenge has been mutually beneficial: the coalition’s activities connect students’ academic learning with real-life, hands-on experiences, and HD benefits from the students’ crucial volunteer time. HD has now successfully utilized the energies of more than 100 students who engage directly with community members to plan and carry out strategic action goals and objectives. Students engaged in coalition work represent different disciplines and education levels, including students from Dearborn’s three public high schools and one charter school. The disciplines of university-level students have included sociology, social work, medicine, public health, kinesiology and community health. Student interns have worked to further the mission and vision of the coalition in numerous ways. Internships are designed to provide meaningful experiences that enrich both the student and HD as an organization. Student interns are assigned responsibilities that vary according to

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individual coalition action teams’ plans and needs. Specific responsibilities for interns vary by team, but they can expect to perform tasks such as research, health education, survey interviews, social media communications, meeting facilitation, community outreach and public speaking. For example, one student intern developed the coalition’s social media communications including its monthly newsletter and Facebook and Instagram pages, which in 2019, had reached more than 3,000 people. Two student interns, fluent in Arabic, knocked on the doors of more than 100 households in an underserved community to recruit residents for an innovative neighborhood park design workshop; two-thirds of the residents from these households attended the event. A  graduate-level student group from an evaluation class worked with residents in a senior citizen housing complex to identify and modify measurement tools for a unique pilot project to improve older adults’ walk gait, speed and functionality. Other student interns have implemented community-wide meetings, made recommendations for a health-in-all-policies rule and recruited participants for a seed library education presentation. Currently, graduate-level students are coordinating and organizing focus groups for an IRB-approved project designed to identify factors underlying health disparities among Middle Eastern families. Inspired by an AmeriCorps student, an ‘Inclusive Committee for People with Disabilities’ was formed to promote healthier lifestyles for individuals with disabilities and provide awareness of resources that families of individuals with disabilities can access. Team members are engaged in several incredible activities; for example, they are currently seeking funds for a bicycle program for children and adults with disabilities. Student intern Hala Alazzawi became a member of the HD coalition through a sociology professor at UMD and joined the Inclusive Health Committee. In this role, she has helped organize educational seminars for parents of children with disabilities to connect them to resources and to raise awareness of the needs of the disability community among parents and families. Alazzawi outlines her recommendations to parents with disabilities at this seminar: I suggested that the parents of individuals with disabilities allow their children to pursue their passion without any restrictions. While I understood and acknowledged that parents want to help their children in times of struggle, I encouraged parents to give their children the space to create the paths that they choose without viewing their disabilities as barriers. In other words, I advised parents to view their children’s disabilities as challenges rather than barriers. HD’s student interns benefit from their involvement with HD in many ways. They explore and develop their interests in public and community service. By engaging with coalition members, students develop interpersonal skills, teamwork and leadership skills. They also derive a sense of self-efficacy through recognizing the value of their efforts in the community. In addition, students gain experience working with people from diverse ethnic and social backgrounds, learn new career-related skills, explore potential career paths and build their social networks. As Alazzawi explains: My experiences with HD benefited me in that they helped me find my voice as a woman with a disability from a minority community. Moreover, my involvement with HD taught me how I  can work together with community members to be an uplifting source of strength for individuals [who] do not have the resources they need in order to make their voices heard. Lastly, my participation in HD serves as a constant reminder of the importance of building a larger connection with community members in order to achieve our 128

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goal of ensuring that individuals in all communities have access to the resources that they need to implement healthy practices throughout their lives. In addition, HD’s intern program is providing opportunities and access to career-fostering experiences that are often more readily available to affluent students. For its part, HD is able to leverage tight resources and support community engagement to advance community health. With robust university/academic partnerships, HD has opportunities to tap into a reservoir of human capital to drive coalition growth and foster creative solutions to pressing problems. Student interns provide mission-critical resources and are now a fundamental part of the coalition fabric. As Gleicher writes: While HD coalition members are the drivers and engines of community change in health, steering and guiding its activities outlined in annual strategic plans, student interns are the fuel, helping to catalyze members’ objectives to help propel improvements in health among Dearborn residents.

Outcome example 1: the Dearborn Seed Library The seed library is one of the most successful projects undertaken by HD, in collaboration with students and faculty at UMD. Located at the Dearborn Centennial Library in West Dearborn, the library provides flower and vegetable seeds as well as information and resources about growing and saving seeds. Participants take out seeds and plant them in the gardens and then return the seeds in the fall. The goal of the library is not only to maintain a steady seed stock and encourage the consumption of fresh fruits and vegetables, but also to increase the knowledge of nutrition and gardening. Other goals include encouraging community engagement with healthy food and nutrition projects. To this end, participation in the seed library is open access, free and does not require a library card. The seed library program was modeled on several existing programs around the country, which were researched by a student intern. The intern coordinated with members of the HD’s Healthy Foods team to create a membership log, seed inventory, a listing of seeds borrowed by each member and simple directions on how to return or contribute seeds to the library. The HD Foods team met with the program librarian who created a display of informative books, magazines and resources for starting seeds, planning a garden and growing plants. The Dearborn Public Library continues to host and promote informational seminars and reading material related to growing your own foods. It is promoted not only by HD but also by the City of Dearborn and is now a well-known model for starting and managing a seed library. Echoing one of HD’s strengths, its plethora of community partners, the seed library has been successful because of its partnerships with the municipal librarians, the Arab American National Museum and the Dearborn’s First Lady’s Annual Tea.

Outcome example 2: healthy restaurants The healthy restaurant program was started in much the same way as the seed library. An undergraduate-level student intern researched specific criteria to evaluate a healthy restaurant’s menu and created three levels of cumulative restaurant awards. The first level is very simple and emphasizes whole grains, low fat, low sugar and plenty of fruit and vegetable options. They also include substitutions for dairy or meat and support an active community. The next two levels focus on more options to meet dietary or cultural needs, vegetarian and vegan options and 129

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healthier beverage options.3 Our community partner, Brome Modern Eatery, helped us develop incentives that might motivate restaurant owners to participate in the program. During the first year, several student interns contacted local restaurants, and with minimal supervision from a HD coalition member, they evaluated over ten restaurants and recommended the initial group of restaurants to be recognized. The first eight restaurants received their awards, presented by Dearborn’s Mayor, John B. O’Reilly Jr. at an event sponsored by the City of Dearborn and Beaumont Health. Since then the list of healthy restaurants has grown to 13, and the foods team continues to evaluate as requests are received. By the end of 2019, the team expects to have 15 healthy restaurants featured on the HD website and will begin a program to connect the restaurants with other activities coordinated by HD teams. The healthy restaurant program has generated inquiries from health professionals as far away as Montana, who were interested in replicating the model. These programs encourage the selection of healthy foods and, as they expand, have the potential to reduce the number of negative health outcomes related to unhealthy eating.

Discussion and conclusion In its relatively short life, HD has had a significant impact on the City of Dearborn and how the city delivers services, programs and policies to its residents and property owners. Though originating in the health services sector, the effort has broadened to include other key stakeholders in the city, from citizens and residents to schools and government agencies. Faculty and students from UMD have contributed to this effort, often contributing in ways that merge research and community engagement. As it moves forward, this collaboration offers an abundance of opportunities to foster student learning, engage in applied community-based research and address the needs of marginalized groups. It is also strongly situated to influence local policy and achieve real-world outcomes. UMD’s sociology faculty don’t define public sociology in opposition to their professional identities. Rather, we link public engagement opportunities to the professional goals of sociology, emphasizing the development of research, analysis, collaboration and presentation skills that might translate directly into employment opportunities for our students. Although high-minded ideals of social justice might drive our efforts and motivate some of our students, our focus is on developing sociological awareness and competency. Likewise, our community partners often envision goals that are tangible: more options in the school lunchroom, more opportunities to access healthy food in their neighborhoods, bike lanes that connect parks without interfering with motorized traffic. As with Gabriel et al. (2009), we find that our work often exists at the interstices of the different areas outlined by Burawoy: part public, part policy, part professional, part critical. In addition, we find that we can offer our coalition increased attention to structures of power and deficits that shape ‘on the ground’ concerns. For example, members of the research team are currently engaged in helping all action teams deeply examine their goals and objects to ensure that they are using policy, systems and environmental strategies (versus creating a team goal that targets individual behavioral change). Furthermore, we have found that working as public sociologists in these contexts involves moving beyond sociology and embracing interdisciplinarity, both in terms of our academic work and at the level of engagement, where we interact with citizens and professionals trained in a broad range of fields, including urban planning, public health, medicine, education, environmental studies and others. Here we also find support from Fairbairn (2019), who proposes the idea of ‘public sociologists as university/community hybrids’ (286). This more fluid 130

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conceptualization, grounded in critical feminist research, does away with Burawoy’s dichotomy between ‘traditional’ and ‘organic’ public sociology. According to Fairbairn: This model is intended to recognize the overlap and blurred boundaries that come with the territory of public sociology, while providing a framework to understand that different aspects of public sociology will emphasize different roles, and individuals will navigate this work in a variety of ways. (298) In our own experience as teachers, researchers, practitioners, advocates and students, we affirm the fluidity of these roles, the shifting boundaries between areas of focus and the dynamic processes of defining/refining goals and measuring or describing outcomes. Undoubtedly HD’s success is due to its partnerships, which includes the relationships between HD and university researchers and students. HD’s efforts earned the 2018 Michigan Governor’s Fitness Award for ‘Active Communities’ as well as the 2019 Michigan Public Health Partnership Week ‘Hometown Health Hero’ award. Mayor O’Reilly Jr. in partnership with the Dearborn City Council has made HD a key part of programming by several departments: recreation, public works, libraries, city planning and engineering. As one of the early primary objectives of HD, the city is establishing its first multi-modal transportation plan (MMTP), which was recently adopted by the planning commission and now goes for a vote before the city council. As a city built around the automobile (home of Henry Ford), this plan will reshape the next 50 years of transportation in Dearborn for pedestrians, bicyclists, autonomous vehicles and public transportation. In conjunction with the MMTP, HD was a leading force in bringing a citywide bike-share system to Dearborn. The system has grown by 40% over the past two years, and another expansion of the system is planned. In other words, HD is shaping citywide infrastructure, programs and policy in the short and long term, and faculty and students are playing a significant role in the process.

Notes 1 Building Islam in Detroit has catalogued mosques in the Detroit area and has a user-friendly, interactive tool to explore Detroit-area mosques using Google maps. http://biid.lsa.umich.edu/ detroit-area-mosques/. 2 These were the names of the HD workgroups at the time the students were doing their project. However, the names of the groups have evolved. For example, Healthy Play and Healthy Transportation have since combined and are now called the Healthy Environments work group. 3 Healthy Restaurant program criteria for the bronze, silver and gold levels can be found on HD’s website, www.healthydearborn.org/.

References Abraham, Nabeel, Sally Howell, and Andrew Shryock, eds. 2011. Arab Detroit 9/11: Life in the Terror Decade. Detroit, MI: Wayne State University Press. Baker, Wayne, Sally Howell, Amaney Jamal, Ann Chich Lin, Andrew Shyrock, Ronald Stockton, and Mark Tressler. 2009. Citizenship and Crisis: Arab Detroit after 9/11. New York: Russel Sage Foundation Press. Breese, Jeffrey R. 2011. “Sociology: A Community Practice Discipline.” Journal of Applied Social Science 5(1):78–86. Brint, Steven. 2005. “A Guide for the Perplexed: On Michael Burawoy’s ‘Public Sociology’.” The American Sociologist 36(3–4):46–65. 131

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Brooks, Michael J. 2004. “Public Sociology: Sociology Translates to Public Action.” Footnotes Retrieved (www.asanet.org/sites/default/files/savvy/footnotes/jan04/fn5.html). Burawoy, Michael. 2005. “2004 ASA Presidential Address: For Public Sociology.” American Sociological Review 70(1):4–28. Fairbairn, Jordan. 2019. “The Public Sociologist as a University-Community Hybrid: Lessons from Feminism.” Critical Sociology 45(2):285–304. Gabriel, John, Jenny Harding, Peter Hodgkinson, Liz Kelly, and Alya Khan. 2009. “Public Sociology: Working at the Interstices.” American Sociologist 40:309–331. Gleicher, Sara. 2018. “Healthy Dearborn Coalition is Growing Community Together.” Dearborn Press and Guide, April  13. Retrieved (www.pressandguide.com/opinion/opinion-healthy-dearborn-coalitionis-growing-community-together/article_ecd8a819-831d-5001-84db-d91d1f1bc63b.html). Hartmann, Douglas. 2016. “Sociology and Its Publics: Reframing Engagement and Revitalizing the Field: 2016 Midwest Sociological Society Presidential Address.” The Sociological Quarterly 58(1):3–18. Newman, Lareen, Fran Baum, Sara Javanparast, Kerryn O’Rourke, and Leanne Carlon. 2015. “Addressing Social Determinants of Health Inequities Through Settings: A Rapid Review.” Health Promotion International 30(2):26–43.

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11 Social construction of public sociology A case study of deliberative democracy engagement in Taiwan Dung-sheng Chen

Introduction This chapter examines Taiwanese sociologists’ promotion of deliberative democracy after 2000 defined as a form of government in which free and equal citizens, justify decisions in a process in which they give one another reasons that are mutually acceptable and generally accessible, with the aim of reaching conclusions that are binding in the present on all citizens but open to challenge in the future. (Gutmann and Thompson 2004:7) This case study will begin to investigate why some sociologists prioritized democratic consolidation as a significant issue and initiated sociological engagement to promote public deliberation. Then it will explore how historical and societal conditions shaped the relationships between the discipline of sociology and the general public in this practice. Third, it will discuss how citizen participation in deliberative democracy has become an important phenomenon for sociological research in which public sociology has continued to nurture professional sociology. This case study of Taiwan public sociology intends to illustrate varieties of public sociology and the different kinds of relationships between public sociology and professional sociology. This chapter is organized as follows: the historical description about the transition of the authoritarian regime into a democratic one and its influence on the development of public sociology in Taiwan will be presented in the second section; challenges faced by the representative democracy after the lifting of the state of emergency and subsequent action on the promotion of deliberative democracy led by a group of sociologists will be discussed in the third section; findings and theoretical construction of sociological analyses in public deliberation will be portrayed and implications of interaction between public sociology and professional sociology will be highlighted in the fourth section. When public sociologists actively engage with controversial issues, they will face several challenges and barriers. By using the case of Taiwanese deliberative 133

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democracy, I will discuss possible solutions to these difficulties in the development of public sociology in the fifth section. The conclusion will be presented in the final section.

The development of public sociology under the authoritarian regime After the authoritarian regime controlled by the Nationalist Party took over the sovereignty of Taiwan from the Japanese colonial government, the discipline of sociology was treated as an instrument to resolve social problems, and sociologists were only allowed to adopt practical approaches in studying social phenomena. Departments of sociology in Taiwan were tightly monitored by the authoritarian government and were strongly expected to help the government to study and resolve social problems in order to prevent anti-government activities. This direct political intervention into the sociology discipline hindered the academic development of sociology from the 1960s to the 1980s (Hsiao 1986, 1987a). However, major crises in foreign affairs that occurred in the 1970s, such as the withdrawal of Taiwan’s membership from the United Nations and demonstrations by Taiwanese citizens in protecting the disputed territory of the Diaoyutai Islands, resulted in critical reflection on Chinese nationalism and encouraged social participation of both young students and intellectuals (Wu and Lee 2008). Accordingly, the Taiwanese civil society started to emerge gradually in the late 1970s and challenged both economic and political institutions to protect consumer rights and environmental rights (Hsiao 1982, 1987b). Taiwanese sociologists allied with scholars from the humanities and other social sciences to establish a public magazine with support from a major newspaper, China Forum, in 1975 to promote the idea of democracy as well as liberalism and to discuss important social issues in Taiwan (Chang 2002). In this authoritarian era, public sociologists adopted a moderate model of public engagement by means of public essays published in a popular journal to spread the idea of democracy and liberalism because continuous surveillance and harsh repression from the state made direct political action impossible. The main purpose was to end the state of emergency and to create democratic political institutions in Taiwan. These social scientists in Taiwan realized that public engagement against the authoritarian state was necessary to pursue democracy and freedom of speech, association and research, and they actively joined these political activities. Various social movements started right after the lifting of the state of emergency in 1987 as the transformation into a new democratic regime occurred. Sociologists, accompanied by their students, consistently participated in democratization, gender, labor and environmental social movements. Among others, the Wild Lily student social movement was the first collective action organized by students to pursue direct election of both legislators in the parliament and the president and mobilized more than 100,000 college students. After one month of continuous demonstration, the president met with the student leaders and accepted their proposal (Ho 2001). This student social movement had a significant influence on the development of Taiwan’s democracy and the discipline of sociology. From 1974, young sociology scholars who completed their doctoral degrees in the United States began to return to Taiwan and introduce critical theories, structuralism, hermeneutics, world-system theory and dependency theory to the intellectual community. These critical perspectives provided different theoretical thinking for sociology students in Taiwan, attracted talented undergraduate students to major in this discipline and eventually led to a critical reflection on the development of local sociological knowledge (Tang 2008). Those who studied in the 1980s pursued their doctoral degrees mainly in the United States and returned to Taiwan to serve as professors in the early 1990s, and most of their research focused on Taiwanese social 134

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phenomena. This generation of sociologists was well trained and worked in various areas of specialization, increasing the importance of sociology in Taiwan. There was a major change in the discipline of sociology in terms of both faculty quantity and quality. During this period, the discipline of sociology attracted students who had a strong passion for reflecting political and social problems in their own society. Some of them became leaders of various student social movements, including the Wild Lily movement, and they chose to pursue advanced degrees abroad in the social sciences after this political event. After they finished their doctoral degrees, many of them followed in the footsteps of their professors to return to Taiwan. In 2010, the demographic structure of the Taiwanese sociological community was as follows: 8% were 60 years old and above, 36.1% were between 50 and 59, 48.9% were between 40 and 49, and 7% were between 30 and 39. Different generations of public Taiwanese sociologists engaged in social issues through different models that resulted in different social impacts. For the eldest generation of sociologists, public engagement by means of public forums was the only choice restricted by the authoritarian regime. For the second generation, their major contribution to public sociology was to introduce critical sociological perspectives to Taiwan and to enrich theoretical viewpoints that had long been dominated by positivism. The largest generation, the third, had some members with significant roles in social movements when they were college students, and they were more active than the previous generations in public engagement. The historical trajectory of Taiwanese sociology has shown that public engagement has progressed from vision promotion to theoretical reflection to political action. To a certain extent, the development of sociology in Taiwan has intermingled with the development of civil society and has combined theoretical construction with public participation.

The promotion of deliberative democracy by public sociologists in Taiwan The transition from the authoritarian regime to democracy after 1987 provided freedom of association and voting rights to the general public. In the meantime, the representative democracy increased the political influence of large companies, political elites and local political factions through close inner networks, financial donations to electoral candidates and manipulation of mass media. In order to consolidate the Taiwanese democratic institutions and to deal with major problems of representative democracy, a group of sociologists worked together to introduce principles of deliberative democracy and to experiment with some practical models of deliberative democracy such as consensus conferences, deliberative polls and scenario workshops from 2002 to 2008 (K. M. Lin 2009). The purpose of this sociological engagement is to raise public participation, political efficacy and policy literacy of the general public by involving citizens in deliberative democratic activities. When ordinary citizens have become responsive and active political actors from the grassroots, civil society is able to overcome serious problems derived from representative democracy and enhance its quality. In 2002, a research team led by a sociologist from the Department of Sociology, National Taiwan University (NTU), started to organize a consensus conference about reform of the National Health Insurance in Taiwan. This first practice of deliberative democracy helped researchers get familiar with the practical details of consensus conferences and collect important information for the necessary revisions of this imported model. In addition to the consensus conference, other models such as deliberative polls, scenario workshops and civic group forums were modified after pilot runs, and standards of operation were documented in the deliberative practice manual (Chen and Deng 2007; Deng and Wu 2004; Lin and Chen 2003). This manual has been systematically distributed to non-profit organizations and governments as well 135

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as schools, and the deliberative democracy research team actively collaborated with some nonprofit organizations to train them to implement these deliberative practices. The spread of deliberative practices was speeded up by the collaboration between the non-profit organizations and the academic group. In 2004, there were seven consensus conferences held by five different non-profit organizations and the Department of Sociology, NTU, regarding issues including the mission of a local hot spring museum, environmental protection, tax reform, urban gentrification, the environmental impact of a cable-car project and surrogate motherhood. In the next year, 12 consensus conferences were held by both non-profit organizations and academic teams regarding even more diverse issues, including environmental sustainability, labor protection, national health insurance, genetic pre-screening, energy policies, industrial park planning and animal rights. Among others, the conferences on genetic pre-screening and the sustainability of the national health insurance were organized by the deliberative democracy research team of the Department of Sociology, NTU. In 2006, six consensus conferences were organized mainly by non-profit organizations, and only one was implemented by the Department of Sociology, NTU. These practices covered issues related to water resource management, agricultural policies, public facilities and local community collaboration and urban planning (K. M. Lin 2009). In both the number of the deliberative practices and the coverage of public policy issues, the development of deliberative democracy in Taiwan has demonstrated the strength of Taiwanese civil society, even compared to the Japanese civil society where advocates of consensus conferences promoted deliberative democracy earlier than their Taiwanese colleagues (Kobayashi 2007:141–155). Deliberative practices were suddenly terminated after 2008 because the formerly authoritarian Nationalist Party replaced the Democratic Progressive Party by winning the presidency and then control the majority of seats in the Parliament. K. M. Lin (2009) pointed out that a government that is not the majority party in the Parliament (like the Chen Shui-Bian administration of 2000–2008) tends to utilize public participation practices such as consensus conferences to systematically understand public opinions and to increase political legitimacy. On the contrary, the political party that wins both the presidency and majority power in the parliament has no incentive to promote deliberative practices. Furthermore, good political connections between public sociologists and the democratic-oriented political elites contribute to the rapid spread of deliberative practices. Since the Nationalist Party favored representative democracy instead of direct democracy, this party excluded the political influence of deliberative democratic scholars on the government as the social networks between the scholars and the governmental leaders broke down. However, one of the important factors facilitating the promotion of deliberative democracy was public distrust and dissatisfaction with the performance of Taiwanese legislators, and this negative public attitude toward the parliament did not change even after the Nationalist Party took over power in 2008. Long-term economic stagnation, which reinforced this public resentment toward the government, laid the foundation for a large-scale social movement suddenly induced by an accidental action by the parliament in 2014. The National Party legislators ignored majority public opinion against the Taiwan-China Free Trade Act to pass the law in just 30 seconds without any rational discussion. A small group of students then rushed into the parliament on March 18, 2014, and occupied the main building in protest. A large crowd was quickly assembled around the parliament to support this student social movement, named the Sunflower Movement (Ho 2019). This occupation and protest was sustained for more than one month and recruited more than half a million participants in demonstrations.

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Almost all social movements that have occurred in Taiwan were led by a small group of activists, and most participants have had no appropriate channel to convey their opinions on the agenda of the social protests. Deliberative democracy researchers from the Department of Sociology, NTU, proposed an innovative idea to combine sit-in demonstrations in the streets and deliberative democratic practices to the social movement leaders. After the proposal was accepted by the movement leaders, street-corner deliberative discussions were held every evening from the second week of the occupation of the parliament. Deliberative topics were arranged to discuss the impact of free trade on one industrial sector each day. More than 50 discussion groups were organized every evening, and many people joined the panels to exchange their opinions with other citizens and finally to present their common suggestions in the public forum. Experienced organizers from non-profit organizations in the 2000s were mobilized and took the responsibility to distribute books in preparation for forums and lead facilitator training and to arrange logistics. The hidden force of deliberative democracy was reactivated by public sociologists in this large-scale social protest. These practices created widespread experiences of deliberative democracy among the social movement participants, especially some mayoral election candidates in 2014. Moreover, public sociologists persuaded two major mayoral candidates to support an increase of public participation in policy decisionmaking by incorporating participatory budgeting in their platforms, and they actually exercised these deliberative practices after they were elected. This case has shown the long-term social impact of deliberative democracy on the government and the development of civil society in Taiwan.

Sociological research in Taiwan public deliberation and the development of professional political sociology Many deliberative forums that occurred between 2002 and 2008 provided great opportunities for social science researchers to study these events, test some important propositions of deliberative democracy and develop a theoretical framework of deliberative democracy based on Taiwanese experiences. Public practices have become research materials for sociologists and have enriched the theoretical development of professional sociology. The distinction between public sociology and professional sociology is flexible, and they actually inform each other. According to the analytical result from the Taiwan Citation Index-Humanity and Social Sciences, the publications on deliberative democracy in Taiwan from 2002 to 2019 include 180 journal articles, 54 doctoral dissertations, eight book chapters and five books. The large number of publications demonstrates that social science researchers have been actively involved in the study of deliberative democracy, that systematic research has been accumulated in the past two decades. Social engagement of public sociologists in deliberative democracy has thus successfully contributed to professional sociology research in Taiwan. The first sociological study of the influence of deliberative democratic practice on participants was published in 2003 after the National Health Insurance consensus conference was held in 2002. The research findings demonstrated that participation in the consensus conference increased motivation to engage in public participation, policy literacy and the political efficacy of these participants (K. M. Lin and Chen 2003). This article has been cited by 66 studies and has made significant impact on the subsequent development of deliberative democracy research in Taiwan. Subsequently, a series of sociological studies have been implemented to contribute to constructing a multi-dimensional theoretical framework for studying deliberative democracy including the individual, social interactional and structural levels. At the individual level,

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scholars found that those who have more distrust in representative democracy, dissatisfaction with the operation of the political party system and more support for direct democracy tend to show strong support for deliberative democratic practices (K. M. Lin 2016a, 2016b). Moreover, those who participate in voluntary organizations and engage in public discussion in daily life can raise their political efficacy, public affairs’ interests and communication abilities and increase their willingness to attend deliberative democratic practices. These findings basically demonstrate that social capital (participation in non-profit organizations) can facilitate the development of democracy (Putnam 2001). At the social interaction level, the form of the deliberative situation is a crucial factor affecting social interaction among participants. It was indicated that if participants intend to protect their own interests in a consensus conference, then public deliberation will become a competitive social interaction, and it will be very difficult to reach a consensus (Y. S. Lin 2012). On the contrary, when most participants treat each other as friends and are willing to listen to different opinions, they will very likely develop a collaborative discussion and conclude with an acceptable consensus. Second, different gender and educational statuses create unequal degrees of participation in public deliberation, but this shortcoming can be compensated for by appropriate design of discussion procedures to some extent. The most important factor that can reduce the inequality of public deliberation is to make discussion issues understandable to the general public, especially by clearly showing how they are linked to their daily experiences (K. M. Lin 2014). Third, if participants with multiple social backgrounds such as experts, parents and managers can work out appropriate social interaction scripts together and construct mutual respect in these social roles in public discussion, this action might facilitate fair and reciprocal communication in a consensus conference (Y. S. Lin 2007). Finally, if there is a person occupying a brokerage position who can introduce different opinions from participants in a group, then his/her influence will increase, and his or her suggestions will very likely be taken as part of the consensus. This pattern of social network embedded in the discussion can have an influence on deliberative outcomes (Y. S. Lin 2010). At the structural level, diversified positions among civil organizations on a specific controversial issue and open access for the general public to governmental policy information can lead to a just procedure of deliberative practice and inclusive public deliberation because both individual and collective actors can exchange their different opinions with transparent and accessible information and with mutual respect and trust (K. M. Lin 2013). In addition, structures of social networks such as centrality, density, diversity and structural holes can influence the outcome of social interaction and attitudes of citizen participants (Y. S. Lin 2010). The Taiwanese sociological literature on public deliberation has shown how structural variables affect deliberative social interaction and participants’ attitudes and possible dynamic influence from the individual level to the structural level. In most cases, sociologists discover significant mechanisms of naturally occurring social phenomena and then construct their theoretical frameworks to explain them, while in the case of deliberative democracy studies, sociologists actively promoted deliberative practices and facilitated the emergence of new social phenomena. In other words, it is possible for sociologists to promote deliberative democracy and to study the development of direct democracy at the same time. It can be argued that construction of a theoretical paradigm is not only limited to the academic community but rather is a co-production between professional sociologists and citizen participants in deliberative practices (Jasanoff 2004). This is one of the possible trajectories of sociological theoretical construction, which can expand our reflection on the development of the sociological discipline.

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Challenges and barriers to the development of public sociology in Taiwan The promotion of deliberative practices in Taiwan has shown several challenges and many barriers to the development of public sociology. The first issue is an equal status and mutually respectful collaboration between public sociologists and citizen organizations. In Taiwan, public sociologists have to make a strong alliance with citizen organizations or other political organizations to weaken the political influence of the state. However, citizen organizations that have not been well developed after the collapse of the authoritarian regime cannot possibly foster an equal status collaboration with public sociologists to promote important social agendas. The leading role of public sociologists might result in subordination of citizen organizations to professionals and hinder the solid development of civil society (Tsai 2009). Mutual respect and equal participation between public sociologists and citizens are very important to respond to some critics of public sociology who have said that ‘to urge that we should engage societal processes as sociologists rather than as citizens is contrary to the principles of participatory democracy’ (Tittle 2004:1643). Therefore, the sociological deliberative democracy team actively collaborated with various citizen groups in the process of promoting deliberative practices in order to make a citizeninitiated participation. After the public sociologists finished the pilot test of deliberative practices, they immediately invited the leaders of non-governmental organizations to share the principles of deliberative democracy and their experiences of deliberative practices. Some citizen organizations agreed with the idea of direct democracy and expressed their willingness to promote deliberative democracy. The public sociologists played a role as facilitators who treated these organizations as central actors in implementing deliberative practices and helped to train their members in organizing public participation. In consequence, these organizations were able to initiate and organize deliberative practices by their own decisions with occasional help from public sociologists. The second issue is whether the promotion of public deliberation in a highly heterogeneous civil society intensifies social cleavages and makes political consensus impossible. In public deliberation, the public is a highly heterogeneous entity and, occasionally, internal conflicts among various citizens occur over very controversial issues such as gay and lesbian human rights protection, legalization of surrogate motherhood, approval of genetically modified food, nuclear energy policy and so on. Public engagement in deliberative democracy is intended to establish a participatory channel for citizens to share their different opinions and to work out some consensus if possible. On many occasions, a consensus cannot be reached because there is no common ground, because citizens hold different positions on a controversial topic. Once in a while, each group might pursue radical strategies to make his or her position into a policy and then likely strengthen social cleavage. The promotion of direct democracy thus might have some unintended negative consequences. According to the research findings of Taiwanese sociologists, diverse mature citizen organizations tend to evenly distribute in an opinion spectrum regarding a specific issue, and they are willing to engage in public discussion with others. Furthermore, ordinary citizens can access understandable, open and transparent information about a controversial issue, and they can utilize these materials to talk to their fellow citizens with different opinions. Third, when citizens begin their public deliberation, they have trust in other participants and perceive public discussion as a cooperative social interaction rather than a competitive one based on their previous positive experiences in public deliberation. In a discussion process, some mechanisms need to

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be designed to encourage a role of brokerage, which can distribute different perspectives to the participants. Then, ordinary citizens are able to learn oppositional opinions and reflect on their own viewpoints. Finally, if public sociologists have a clear position on a given social issue, they have to declare their bias and notice possibilities of their public engagement deepening social cleavage and exacerbating social inequality. The third issue is that alliances with other political organizations might endanger the autonomy of public sociologists, especially when the parties they have connections to win general elections and gain strong political power. Wu (2002) argued that the strong collaboration between Taiwanese social movement organizations and the Democratic Progressive Party has led to the decline of social movement organizations because the ruling political party co-opted social activists by means of the recruitment of governmental positions, public financial support and consultation over public policies. Public sociologists have faced a similar challenge as social movement organizations because political collaboration with political organizations might weaken their capabilities and the autonomy of public engagement. One study on the impact of governmental sponsorship in Taiwanese public deliberation argued that the state officials had their own agenda in supporting public deliberation activities, and they tended to set up limits on public deliberation conclusions (Wan 2018). Furthermore, governmental officials frequently treated public deliberation as a form of public performance and did not take the suggestions from ordinary citizens seriously. These responses from governmental officials significantly deteriorated public trust in the government and ruined the reputation of public sociologists receiving funding from the government. Intervention and influence from the state in public sociological exercises can be moderated by large-scale and continuous training of public deliberation facilitators from non-profit organizations, journalists, various education institutions and public servants who are familiar with both the ideas and practices of deliberative democracy (Tu 2007). Journalists can promote the idea of public deliberation in the media and try to facilitate the development of citizen journalism (Hu 2014). This bottom-up model of mass media increases the independence and autonomy of civil society because it creates plenty of opportunities for ordinary citizens to convey their thoughts and monitor policies. After several practices of public deliberation, public officials got to know public opinions from these practices, and some of them responded to the proposals from citizen conferences positively (Huang 2008). This indicated that internal support from the state has gradually increased. And a strong alliance between public sociologists and citizen’s organizations is able to develop a solid counter-balancing power to the state. The fourth issue is whether objectivity of sociological knowledge must be maintained after active engagement in public issues. One critic of public sociology pointed out that ‘to the public sociologist, truth value is not empirical, established through standards of peer review, but is established through the consensus that is formed as a result of dialogue with a public’ (Smith-Lovin 2007:129). On the contrary, the objectivity of sociological knowledge should be guaranteed by both logical reasoning and systematic empirical data (Massey 2007:146). Furthermore, academic freedom and sociological discovery is protected because it is relatively isolated from the outside world (Smith-Lovin 2007:132). However, in the case of Taiwanese sociologists engaged in the promotion of deliberative democracy, it demonstrates that public involvement of sociologists could also generate new research issues, produce numerous empirical articles and inspire theoretical construction. The sociological community is located in an open system in which it is impossible for sociologists to keep the ivory tower free from external influence. Especially, when the authoritarian regime actively censored academic activities and controlled research institutions, there was no way to academic freedom without challenging this political institution. Even in most 140

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democratic societies, research funding is supported by the government or large corporations and they might influence the selection of research issues as well as theoretical perspectives and the presentation of research findings by scientists. The public engagement of sociologists can reflect some academic biases under strong governmental and industrial influence from the civil society standpoint and provide different perspectives about social reality. Moreover, sociological research does not discover empirical laws existing in social reality but rather is a continuous exchange of sociological findings with their peers as well as with active citizens in order to establish intersubjectivity with their audiences. This is a major point raised by the approach of citizen science (Corburn 2005).

Conclusion and discussion In this chapter, it has been demonstrated that the development of public sociology is influenced by Taiwanese political, social and cultural conditions. In this society, public sociologists seem to be more likely to promote political changes than utilize sociological research to inform a larger public. And interrelationships among professional, public and critical sociology as identified by Burawoy (2005) have shown a different pattern in Taiwan’s society. Professional sociology with a very practical purpose was first sponsored by the nationalist government, and under serious political crises, critical sociology emerged from the mobilization of liberal intellectuals. Public sociology gradually developed after the collapse of the authoritarian regime, especially by means of the active promotion of deliberative democracy and, finally, public sociological engagement in the democratic development has contributed to subsequent theoretical construction within professional political sociology. The discipline of sociology in Taiwan has thus been nurtured by both professional sociology and public sociology. Evidently, it is necessary to put the development of sociology, particularly public sociology, into a historical context in a given society in order to grasp both the nature of sociology and public sociology. According to the case of Taiwan, sociology embedded in an authoritarian regime very likely encourages some of its members to pursue active engagement in political and social issues in order to protect their freedom of thought and research. This sociological engagement also contributes to strengthen the Taiwanese democratic institution by increasing citizens’ public participation motivation, political efficacy, policy literacy and willingness to understand the different opinions of their fellow citizens. The development of public sociology in Taiwan has four significant challenges, and some solutions adopted by the public sociologists in this society can provide useful lessons to other societies. First, the equal status and mutually respectful collaboration between public sociologists and citizen’s organizations is possible by means of joint production of knowledge and organizational capabilities in public engagement. These civil organizations might be dependent on public sociologists initially, and they are able to initiate their own actions subsequently by their will. Second, public deliberation can increase discussion among people with different opinions if participants perceive public discussion is collaborative rather than competitive under a mutually trusted procedure designed by facilitators. Before public discussion, ordinary citizens have equal and free access to reach various information regarding a particular public issue, which are distributed by responsible and well-organized citizen’s groups with different standpoints. Third, promotion of public deliberation in Taiwan has involved public sociologists, non-governmental organizations and governmental resources; therefore there are some serious concerns about the negative consequences of governmental sponsorship. Since the government is not a homogeneous entity, public sociologists can make an alliance with reform-oriented public officials to increase the influence of deliberative democracy inside political institutions. On the other hand, 141

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both public sociologists and citizen’s organizations can use these sponsored practices actively to accumulate their experiences and enhance their political autonomy from the government. Fourth, the discipline of sociology is located in an open system and the criteria of objectivity for academic knowledge can’t be monopolized by professionals, and it should put societal conditions in a given society into consideration. The development of public sociology in Taiwan is a useful case to show varieties of sociological engagement and to enhance our understanding of dynamic relationships between sociology, the state and civil society.

References Burawoy, Michael. 2005. “For Public Sociology.” American Sociological Review 70:4–28. Chang, Mau-Kuei. 2002. “Formation and Paradox of Multi-culturalism and Pluralism Discourse in Taiwan.” Pp. 223–273 in Future of Taiwan, edited by Xue Tian-Dong. Taipei: Hwa-Tai Press. (in Mandarin) Chen, Dung-sheng, and Chung-Yeh Deng. 2007. “Interaction Between Citizens and Experts in Public Deliberation: A Case Study of Consensus Conferences in Taiwan.” East Asian Science, Technology and Society: An International Journal 1:77–97. Corburn, Jason. 2005. Street Science: Community Knowledge and Environmental Health Justice (urban and industrial environments) Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Deng, Chung-Yeh and Chia-Ling Wu. 2004. “Civic Groups Forum: Implications to Public Participation in New Democracy.” Taiwan Democracy Quarterly 1:35–56. (in Mandarin) Gutmann, Amy and Dennis Thompson. 2004. Why Deliberative Democracy? Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Ho, Lung-Shin. 2001. The Student Social Movement Generation: Multiple Voices Ten Years. Taipei: China Times Press. (in Mandarin) Ho, Ming-Sho. 2019. Challenging Beijing’s Mandate of Heaven: Taiwan’s Sunflower Movement and Hong Kong’s Umbrella Movement Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Hsiao, Hsin-Huang Michael. 1982. Consumers Movement in Taiwan: Theory and Practice. Taipei: Times Culture Publishing Co. (in Mandarin). Hsiao, Hsin-Huang Michael. 1986. “Sociology in Taiwan.” Pp. 271–310 in Sinicization of Sociology, edited by Yung-Mei Tsai and Hsin-Huang Michael Hsiao. Taipei: Chiu-Liu Press. (in Mandarin) Hsiao, Hsin-Huang Michael. 1987a. “Taiwanese Sociology in Recent Thirty Years: Historical and Structural Analyses.” Pp. 326–390 in Retrospect and Prospect of Taiwanese Humanity and Social Sciences in Recent Thirty Years, edited by Tse-Han Lai. Taipei: Tung-Tai Press. (in Mandarin) Hsiao, Hsin-Huang Michael. 1987b. We Have Only One Taiwan: Anti-Pollution, Conservation and Environmental Movement. Taipei: Yuan-Hsung Publishing Co. (in Mandarin) Hu, Yuan-Hui. 2014. “More Deliberative Citizens, More Public Openness: Considering the Interrelationship Between Public Journalism and Citizen Journalism.” Journalism Study 119:81–120. (in Mandarin) Huang, Tong-Yi. 2008. “After Deliberation: Exploring the Policy Connection of Consensus Conference from Public Sectors’ Perspectives.” Soochow Political Science Journal 26:59–96. (in Mandarin) Jasanoff, Sheila, ed. 2004 States of Knowledge: The Co-Production of Science and the Social Order. London: Routledge. Kobayashi, Tadashi. 2007. “Technology Democracy and Citizen Participation: The Japanese Experiences After 1990.” Pp. 141–155 in The Light of Public Discussion: Theories and Practices of Deliberative Democracy, edited by Liao Jin-Guei and Wang Shing-Chun. Taipei: Taiwan Think Tank. (in Mandarin) Lin, Kuo-ming. 2009. “State, Civil Society, and Deliberative Democracy: The Practices of Consensus Conferences in Taiwan.” Taiwan Sociology 17:161–217. (in Mandarin) Lin, Kuo-ming. 2013. “Inclusion in Public Deliberation: Proceduralism and Civil Society Perspectives.” Taiwan Democracy Quarterly 10:137–183. (in Mandarin) Lin, Kuo-ming. 2014. “Deliberative Inequality: Discursive Interactions in Taiwan’s Citizen Conferences.” Taiwan Sociology 27:1–50. (in Mandarin)

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Lin, Kuo-ming. 2016a. “Who Will Be Willing to Deliberate? Civic Talk, Social Capital and Deliberative Democracy in Taiwan.” Taiwan Sociology 31:43–97. (in Mandarin) Lin, Kuo-ming. 2016b. “Civil Society and Public Deliberation: Deliberative Dispositions of General Citizens and Civic Group Activists.” Taiwanese Journal of Sociology 59:139–186. (in Mandarin) Lin, Kuo-ming and Dung-sheng Chen. 2003. “Consensus Conference and Deliberative Democracy: Citizen Participation in Taiwan’s National Health Insurance Policies.” Taiwan Sociology 6:61–118. (in Mandarin) Lin, Yu-sheng. 2007. “ ‘No Difference Between Us’: The Relationship Between Experts and Lay Persons in the Surrogate Motherhood Consensus Conference in Taiwan.” Taiwan Democracy Quarterly 4:1–32. (in Mandarin) Lin, Yu-sheng. 2010. “From Difference to Consensus: Balanced Networking in Public Deliberation.” Taiwan Democracy Quarterly 7:177–216. (in Mandarin) Lin, Yu-sheng. 2012. “Constructing Talking Styles in Public Deliberation: Influences of Social Relations and Social Skills.” Taiwanese Journal of Sociology 51:63–114. (in Mandarin) Massey, Douglas S. 2007. “The Strength of Weak Politics.” Pp. 145–157 in Public Sociology: Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Professional in the Twenty-First Century, edited by Dan Clawson et al. Berkeley: University of California Press. Putnam, Robert D. 2001. Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community. New York City: Simon and Schuster. Smith-Lovin, Lynn. 2007. “Do we need a Public Sociology? It Depends on What You Mean by Sociology.” Pp. 124–134 in Public Sociology: Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Professional in the Twenty-First Century, edited by Dan Clawson et al. Berkeley: University of California Press. Tang, Chih-Chieh. 2008. “Construction and Re-Creation of Local Sociological Tradition: Idea, Lineage, and Practice.” Pp. 554–630 in Interlocution: A Thematic History of Taiwanese Sociology, 1945–2005, edited by Gwo-Shyong Shieh. Taipei: Socio Publishing Co., Ltd. (in Mandarin) Tittle, Charles. 2004. “The Arrogance of Public Sociology.” Social Forces 82:1639–1643. Tsai, Hung-Jeng. 2009. “Technocracy, Democratic Participation and Deliberative Democracy: A  Case Study of the Cable Car Citizen Conference.” Taiwanese Journal of Sociology 43:1–42. (in Mandarin) Tu, Wen-Ling. 2007. “Deliberative Democracy and Social Movement: An Inspiration from the LocalInitiative Citizen Conference of Hsinchu Science-Based Industrial Park at Ilan.” Public Administration Journal 23:67–93. (in Mandarin) Wan, Poe Yu-ze. 2018. “Outsourcing Participatory Democracy: Critical Reflections on the Participatory Budgeting Experiences in Taiwan.” Journal of Public Deliberation 14(1):Article 7. Wu, Jieh-Min. 2002. “Clausewitzian Enchantment: Analyzing the Current Problems of Taiwan’s Social Reform Movement.” Taiwanese Sociology 4:159–198. (in Mandarin) Wu, Jieh-Min and Dinn-Zan Lee. 2008. “Living in Taiwan: Electoral Democracy and Its Shortcomings.” Thought 9:33–68. (in Mandarin)

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12 Serving as ambassadors of hope A case study in public sociology as community-based research and engagement Carrie Lee Smith and Mary Hendricks Glazier

In 2012, Robert ‘Bob’ Cooper, a retired educator, began to learn about the plight of children of incarcerated parents (e.g., see Arditti 2012; Bernstein 2007; Siegel 2011). To his surprise, he discovered that the problem existed on a larger scale than he realized. He determined to do something about this matter in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, where he resides, and enlisted several friends and colleagues. A  group called Children of Incarcerated Parents Network of Lancaster County (COIPNLC) was born. At this point, the network consisted of a group of individuals who met somewhat regularly to brainstorm ideas about outreach and advocacy and to educate each other regarding the needs of a largely forgotten population. The network was not yet an official advocacy group and did not have the bureaucratic structure of one (i.e., with a board of directors etc.). Bob proceeded to establish connections with individuals from various backgrounds, telling them about his interest in helping children of incarcerated parents in the county. Before long, he had the attention of the prison warden, county commissioners, social workers and law enforcement officers. At the time that the network came into being, no other organizations in the county were working with children of incarcerated parents, with the exception of a group called Scaling Walls a Note at a Time (SWAN) – a ‘support group for children affected by parental incarceration and provides free music lessons, ensemble training, performance opportunities and mentoring’ (SWAN 2019). Our paths crossed with Bob’s when Mary attended a COIPNLC meeting. Mary offered the assistance and resources of Millersville University to the fledging network. Mary, as director of the university’s Center for Public Scholarship & Social Change (CPSSC), invited Bob to attend the center’s weekly meetings, and a partnership was born. During the first two years of this partnership, there was an effort to determine how many people incarcerated in the county jail were parents and to learn what the needs of their children and the children’s caregivers were. Mary helped Bob connect with faculty in the Millersville University Communications  & Theater Department, which allowed students in a public relations class to develop a marketing program for COIPNLC. The marketing program included a recommendation to change the name to Ambassadors for Hope (AFH). In 2014, Carrie joined CPSSC as a faculty affiliate and gradually 144

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became involved with AFH’s work. Currently, both authors continue in their capacities at the center and serve on AFH’s advisory council. Over time, AFH has advocated for the needs of children with a parent in prison and raised its own profile significantly. Most importantly, through the efforts of AFH in partnership with the CPSSC, Lancaster County Commissioners agreed, in 2014, to allocate funds derived from county prisoners’ commissary expenditures to support the hiring of a Family Services Advocate (FSA) to work directly with the children of incarcerated parents and their caregivers. Because AFH does not have the capacity to supervise an employee, it solicited Compass Mark, a non-profit organization focused on substance abuse prevention, to house the FSA. AFH has redefined itself as an advocacy group, with three main goals: (1) educating and mobilizing the community, (2) empowering affected families and (3) influencing public policy (AFH n.d.). In addition, one of the co-authors (Carrie) has taken on the primary responsibility for conducting an annual program evaluation of the work of the FSA. This chapter will explore the ways in which our venture into public sociology on behalf of AFH illustrates four key issues. First, we examine the reasons why mentoring is crucial in bringing colleagues onboard a community-based research project. The next section will focus on the relations between the university and its community partners and discuss the importance of clarifying the nature of those relationships, especially when they are multifaceted and complex. Third, we discuss the challenges of conducting social science research in conjunction with a community partner and for a non-academic audience. Finally, we discuss the challenges associated with involving students in public sociology, especially in a setting where the tasks that need to be completed transcend the typical responsibilities of a research assistant.

Defining public sociology In 2004, Michael Burawoy focused on the theme of public sociology in his presidential address to the American Sociological Association. He proposed a holistic model of sociological practice, first by delineating four types of practice: professional, critical, policy and public. He further distinguished between traditional and organic public sociology. The bulk of public sociology, Burawoy argued, is of the organic type, ‘in which the sociologist works in close connection with a visible, thick, active, local and often counter-public  .  .  . sociologists working with a labor movement, neighborhood associations, communities of faith, immigrant rights groups, human rights organizations’ (Burawoy 2005:7–8). Using Burawoy’s typology, our work with AFH would seem a good fit for organic public sociology, in addition to being considered policy sociology, which Burawoy (2005) defined as ‘sociology in the service of a goal defined by a client’ (9). We argue, however, for a broader and more expansive understanding of public sociology, drawing from feminist perspectives and scholarship in community-based research. For us, our work with AFH is not simply work ‘in the service of a goal defined by a client.’ Rather, we view our public sociology as a form of community-based research and engagement, one where academic sociologists and community stakeholders engage in fluid discussion and conversation. Through these conversations and dialogues, we are no longer just intellectuals or scholars, but rather, educators and advocates (e.g., see Fairbairn 2019). As will become clear in the ensuing discussion, while we may have focused on our roles as academics with research expertise initially, it wasn’t long into our partnership with AFH that we understood the need for us to take on the roles of educators, advocates and activists. To that end, we utilize the terms ‘public sociology’ and ‘community-based research and engagement’ interchangeably in the rest of this chapter. 145

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‘Lessons learned’ from our experiences in public sociology Mentoring junior colleagues in public sociology One of the unique features of this partnership is that the academic sociologists involved come to this collaboration with vastly different backgrounds and experiences in public sociology and community-based research and engagement. Up to this point, Carrie had been a fairly traditional academic sociologist – doing research and publishing in academic journals. Mary – by contrast – has had a long and established career in public sociology. Besides being the cofounder of the Lancaster Safety Public Coalition, Mary had conducted program evaluations for law enforcement entities and non-profit organizations and overseen quality-of-life surveys and analyses for local neighborhoods. One of the lessons we take away from this partnership is the imperative need for senior public sociologists to provide concrete and hands-on mentorship for their junior colleagues. Fundamentally, conducting public sociology and community-based research is akin to learning a new methodology and a new language (e.g., see Frabutt and Graves 2016). Senior colleagues should realize this and mentor their junior colleagues through the intricacies of learning this new methodology. Senior colleagues should not assume that because their junior counterparts already know how to do sociological research, they will therefore catch on quickly when conducting community-based research. A  first crucial difference between ‘traditional’ and public sociology is that with public sociology and community-based research, other entities and partners are involved and are stakeholders in the program evaluation process (e.g., see Hacker 2013; Leavy 2017). Mentors should carefully guide mentees and introduce them to the stakeholders involved, providing background and historical information on the relationships between the stakeholders. This was precisely what happened in this collaboration. Mary invited Carrie to attend meetings with her and facilitated Carrie’s entry into public sociology by introducing her to the various stakeholders. Mary – a longtime resident of the county – has strong established networks and a fount of knowledge about various organizations. Part of the mentoring involved incorporating her mentee into her established networks, making sure that stakeholders knew that a new person was coming onboard. Mentors should consciously model for their mentees how to interact and work with stakeholders and partners. A second crucial difference between ‘traditional’ and public sociology is understanding and navigating the relationships between the various stakeholders. When she first began this work, Carrie floundered for ways to describe her relationship to the FSA. Was the FSA a co-author/ collaborator? That didn’t seem to fit, and Carrie settled for the term ‘client.’ Yet, with regard to Burawoy’s typology, this was not a traditional client relationship. Mary worked with Carrie, helping her to understand that this was a relationship of collaboration, not one of service, and taught her the language and concept of ‘community-based partner.’ This continues to be a learning process for Carrie. Those new to public sociology should be prepared to invest time and effort in learning the different models of community-based research and its corresponding languages and methodologies (e.g., see Frabutt and Graves 2016 for a helpful overview). A third, and more instrumental, point needs to be mentioned. Public sociology is not as equally valued as ‘traditional’ scholarship at many institutions of higher education in the United States, and there is concern that academic careers might be harmed by engagement in public sociology (e.g., see Bonacich 2007). There are opportunities here for senior scholars who conduct public sociology. They can help to advocate for public sociology as legitimate scholarship. Those who have attained promotion to full professor are particularly well positioned to support junior colleagues through advocacy and providing resources. This is, by no means, an emerging 146

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issue. Those who engage in applied and clinical sociology have been hard at work, developing metrics to help sociologists argue for the values and contributions of ‘non-traditional scholarship.’ At the institutional level, however, mentors can, and should advocate for, and raise the profile of public sociology at their university and assist their mentees in doing so. As director of the university’s CPSSC, Mary administers a grant program for faculty conducting communitybased research. The center also hosts an annual breakfast for local community partners and gives out awards to students, faculty and local organizations, recognizing their contributions toward the community. Mary has guided Carrie through the process of raising the profile of public sociology – working with her on developing grant proposals, introducing her to community leaders and having her make presentations on community-based research at the annual breakfast and, crucially, liaising with the university’s communications director to draft press releases. By now, it should be clear that a sociologist’s path to engaging in public sociology can be, and should be, made much smoother through strong mentorship. Mentors can not only teach junior faculty new methodologies but also guide them in interacting with the larger university and community contexts. If we are to build a strong network of public sociologists, we need to also consider building a strong network of mentors for those interested in conducting public sociology.

Clarifying the relationships between community partners and the university Often, in the arena of social issues, many stakeholders and community partners are involved. The relationships and partners in this collaboration are a bit more complex, however. There are five partners in this collaboration. First, AFH is the county-wide advocacy group, with advisory council members drawn from the fields of law enforcement, child welfare and education. Second, the authors represent and bring with them the resources of the university and the CPSSC (in addition to serving as advisory council members). AFH, as a small advocacy group, has no office space or staff and is unable to hire the FSA directly. Hence, the FSA is housed at Compass Mark – a local non-profit that focuses on working on issues of addiction and recovery and the third partner in this collaboration. The fourth partner is the local county government, which funds the FSA program. Fifth, and finally, because AFH is not incorporated, another local nonprofit organization, Community Action Partnership (CAP), serves as AFH’s fiscal agent. For those engaging in public sociology, we highly recommend that some time and effort be put forth into clarifying the roles and responsibilities of the various stakeholders and community partners. The advisory council and community partners have been participating in a longrunning discussion about who should have a seat at the table and how much of a say each should have. In fact, a recent long-range planning session for AFH came to this conclusion. As a result, AFH is currently giving careful thought to the makeup of the AFH advisory council, developing a set of bylaws, and adopting a memorandum of understanding with Compass Mark and the university. Inevitably, ‘turf wars’ will arise. Admittedly, this does not sound fun or intellectually stimulating. As academic sociologists, however, we are trained in understanding organizations and organizational processes. We recommend that sociologists looking to conduct public sociology turn their sociological lens and training toward examining organizational processes and functioning among stakeholders and community partners. This process should begin early in the collaboration and be continually revisited. Next, we highlight two issues that recently arose due to the complex and ill-defined relationships between the various stakeholders. The first issue involves the role and position of the FSA. As mentioned earlier, AFH – as an advocacy organization – worked closely with the county government to establish this position 147

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for a case manager. However, once this position was created and housed at Compass Mark, it was unclear as to what AFH’s role was in overseeing the FSA. The employee working in this position technically had a direct report at her workplace as well as to the director of the organization. One could argue that AFH had no role in oversight, supervision or the right to request updates and reports from the FSA. Yet, undeniably, this position exists because of AFH’s work and advocacy with the local county government. Some advisory council members, understandably, felt proprietary toward this program. Recently, it became necessary to hire a new employee to fill the FSA position. Tensions arose when some AFH advisory council members felt that they had not been sufficiently consulted or involved in crafting the job advertisement and the ensuing hiring process. This was a crucial focal point of the ‘turf wars’ – a cautionary tale that the roles and responsibilities of stakeholders need to be clarified and codified early in the collaborative process. Eventually, a new case worker was hired, and everyone was pleased with the outcome. Nonetheless, this ‘turf war’ is one that can rear its head again, and we need to take proactive steps to alleviate potential future conflict. A second tension point involves the university and the academic sociologists. As mentioned earlier, one of the co-authors has primary responsibility for conducting the annual program evaluation of the FSA, which is a requirement for continued county funding. In this case, Compass Mark, while receiving county funds for the FSA program, is reliant upon the university and the faculty for their assistance. Compass Mark acknowledges that it does not have the financial or research capability to conduct a comprehensive program evaluation. To add an additional layer of complexity, recall that Carrie – the program evaluator – also serves on AFH’s advisory council. Could AFH argue that since an advisory council member provides this invaluable service to Compass Mark, it should have a stronger role in the oversight of the FSA? In October 2017, Lancaster County Commissioners decided that the funding for the FSA would occur only as a part of proposed funding for re-entry services. Given that the work of the FSA is focused on children whose parents have just entered prison, funding it as a re-entry service was unlikely to occur. For a while, it looked as though the FSA program would lose its funding, and AFH’s advocacy work went into overdrive – with advisory council members reaching out to elected officials, community leaders and partners and reporters. When the local newspaper decided to cover this issue in-depth, a question arose as to who would speak to the press and in what capacity. Bob Cooper, as the founder of AFH, was a natural choice. What about the director of Compass Mark? Other advisory council members of AFH? What of the authors – who serve in a triple capacity, as advisory council members, program evaluators and university faculty? As an advocacy organization, compared to Compass Mark or the university, AFH has much more flexibility and ability to take the lead in navigating political waters. In the end, it was decided that Carrie – who is the sole author of the two most recent program evaluations – should speak to the local media. It was also decided that her position as a faculty member at the university and as author of the program evaluations should be her key identifier in media discussion. In spring 2018, the executive director of Lancaster County Behavioral Health and Disability Services (BH/DS) responded positively to the advocacy efforts of AFH and agreed to fund the FSA on an ongoing basis. These are difficult predicaments, and sociologists who wade into the waters of public sociology should be aware of them. We suggest that sociologists who conduct public sociology give some thought to and obtain some mentoring in how to speak with media and how to successfully explain complex policy points clearly and succinctly. Sociologists should also work to make sure that their universities (and administrators) are aware of faculty’s interactions with media. Admittedly, we did not do so in this situation. In hindsight, we should have made the university aware that we were wading into a contentious county government debate and clarified the 148

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capacities through which we were doing so. Fortunately, the political situation was resolved, and county funding for the FSA was preserved.

Communicating social science research and methodology Our first program evaluation was quite modest in its goals and its methodology. We provided descriptive statistics of the clientele served by the FSA program. We also measured outcomes over time – was the FSA able to provide access to a service that the client needed? For instance, from July 1, 2018, to June 30, 2019, at intake, 56 clients were actively working with the FSA. Out of these 56 clients, 11 (19.6%) clients’ caregivers requested help accessing therapy for the children in their care. Comparatively, at the 90-day mark, 24 clients were still actively working with the FSA, which reflects an attrition rate of 42.9%. Out of these 24 clients, five (20.8%) clients’ caregivers was still unable to access therapy for the child in their care, while one (4.2%) client had successfully done so (Smith 2019). In addition to this basic quantitative documentation, we also provided some case studies and examples of how the FSA had worked with clients and their families. Due to the nature of confidentiality and client privacy, these case studies were provided directly by the FSA; we were unable to interview the clients or their primary caregivers face-to-face ourselves. Over time, the methodologies utilized for the program evaluations became more sophisticated, as we began to include additional pieces of data and analyses. Our suggestions for how to improve data collection on the part of the FSA also become more finely honed. In the most recent program evaluation, for instance, in addition to providing descriptive statistics of the clientele, we also provided descriptive statistics of all clients referred to the program – regardless of whether the FSA was able to establish contact or not (Smith 2019). For the upcoming program evaluation, we anticipate having sufficient data to compare trends across the years in terms of clientele demographics and program effectiveness. In addition to improved measurement and methodology, Compass Mark acquired a software system that enabled the FSA to record client data. Often, due to the lack of funding and resources, non-profit community organizations are unable to access and purchase software to assist in data entry and recording. In conducting community-based research, we strongly recommend that one of the first steps be to assess what types of software and data analysis packages are available and to coordinate accordingly. In this collaboration, we discovered that having the FSA utilize Microsoft Excel to record client data was the best solution – the software is easily accessible and not difficult to learn. In addition, we could easily migrate the data into SPSS on our end. We failed to anticipate that while the methodologies utilized seemed simple and clear-cut to us, this was not the case for the general public and the various stakeholders. Academics who engage in public sociology need to give serious thought to effective data presentation and communication (Oliver 2009). When we presented a program evaluation to the board of county commissioners early on in this collaboration, we did not receive many questions from the elected officials about the methodology used, and they seemed to accept our arguments about the effectiveness of the program. However, later, one of the elected officials stated to a local reporter that there appeared to be ‘anecdotal evidence’ that the program was effective (Baldrige 2017). While we were frustrated by this, we could have been more deliberative about how we explain our research methodologies and results to elected officials. We’re stuck in somewhat of a conundrum – while the program evaluation needs to be brief and succinct, we also need to clearly explain the rigor and validity of the results. Possibly, the problem arose with our use of selective case studies from the FSA. As we are aware, it is likely that the general public glances over the statistical results and reads the two or three case studies included. This can easily create 149

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the perception that the evidence is ‘anecdotal.’ We recommend that qualitative and case study data be carefully contextualized in community-based research and engagement. Much of the general public has great difficulty comprehending reliability and validity in assessing qualitative data, and we could have been clearer as to how the case studies we provided fit in the larger picture. It would have been helpful for us (and we will do this moving forward) to document clearly, for instance, with a case study of the FSA helping a caregiver obtain legal guardianship, how often this occurred. Second, we also experienced difficulties in explaining our methodology and results to fellow advisory council members. Again, we had assumed that the methodology utilized was basic and did not require much explanation. However, with each program evaluation, we found ourselves answering methodological questions. With the most recent program evaluation, several advisory council members did not understand the rationale for including descriptive statistics for both the clientele ultimately served by the FSA, as well as all referrals to the program. We explained that collecting data on all referrals helps provide us with a baseline for what is happening countywide to children of incarcerated parent(s). This baseline measure, though incomplete, will help us gauge and justify future expansion of the FSA program. Sometimes, advisory council members wanted data presented in ways that were familiar to them, but not necessarily aligned to the best practices of data presentation. For instance, one advisory council member was familiar with pie charts and requested that the data be presented that way. However, much of our data was not amenable to the format of a pie chart, and we had to explain why. A third source of difficulty with data collection and research methodologies arose in our interactions with the person serving in the position of the FSA. Those wishing to engage in public sociology are often reliant upon others to collect the data they require for program evaluation. For a while, we ran into difficulty when it became apparent that the social worker serving in the position of the FSA had not received sufficient training in data recording and collection. How could this situation be improved? Discussion and explanation at the front end is necessary. Before conducting a program evaluation, advisory council meetings should ideally be dedicated to discussing what should be, will be and can be included in a program evaluation. Our roles as professional sociologists require us to take on the responsibilities of explaining what we can and cannot measure and to think about the ways in which we can be innovative with research methodologies. Often, stakeholders and board members know what results they want to see. They might not, however, understand how to obtain and present those results. Similarly, logistics and expectations need to be clarified and, if possible, documented on paper. With the first two program evaluations, there was no specification as to what should be included in the program evaluation and when the county commissioners expected to see it. When the source of county funding changed prior to the third program evaluation, Carrie requested that AFH and Compass Mark review previous program evaluations and state clearly the expectations. Prior to the third program evaluation, there had also been no clear timeline for when program evaluations are due to the advisory council and to Compass Mark for feedback, before formal submission to the county. We have recently, after discussion between the advisory council, Compass Mark and Lancaster BH/DS, established a timeline for when the FSA should turn over data to the program evaluator and when drafts and formal submissions are due to the various stakeholders.

Involving students in public sociology The AFH advisory council is staffed with volunteers  – none of whom are compensated for their time and efforts. AFH is an advocacy group, and as discussed earlier, does not have the 150

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financial resources to hire paid staff or to rent office space. However, AFH’s advocacy efforts are labor intensive and require help and expertise that the advisory council members alone cannot accomplish. Examples of tasks associated with AFH’s advocacy efforts include creating a website, maintaining a social media presence, fundraising and participating in the county-wide Extraordinary Give effort and creating brochures and pamphlets. What is needed is a host of student volunteers to help assist with these tasks. This is not unusual with academic scholarship or, indeed, most community-based research and engagement projects. We often hire student assistants to help with data collection and analysis or, sometimes, to serve in the role of project manager and to help keep track of logistics. Because the needs of AFH are so varied, our student volunteers often found themselves in situations that did not necessarily fit the typical job responsibilities of a student worker. Our student volunteers are generally research assistants hired by the university’s Center for Public Scholarship & Social Change. They work on various ongoing projects involving multiple community partners, and students often choose which projects they devote the majority of their time to, based on their interests. With the first program evaluation, the center had a student research assistant whose interest and skill set lay in dataset creation. It was the right student worker at the right time, as that student was trained to work with the FSA in data coding, entry and basic analyses. The student was included as a co-author on the program evaluation report and was able to state clearly on his résumé his contributions to the project. More often, though, the match of need, interest and skill is not as fortuitous. The needs of AFH, as an advocacy group, ebb and flow as well, and student workers are often asked to participate without much warning time. Sometimes, students have also been asked to help with tasks that do not directly pertain to skill training in research methodologies and data analysis. Our students have staffed the fundraising booth at the county’s Extraordinary Give event, marched in a local parade to help raise awareness, designed brochures and maintained AFH’s social media presence. There are ways that we can work with student workers in conducting public sociology and ensure that we do not abuse their labor, time and effort. The ideal way of doing this would be for AFH to hire a student intern (and, preferably, to pay the intern a stipend). That way, the student signing on would be someone whose interests lie in either the cause of children with incarcerated parents and/or advocacy and community engagement. We are beginning to investigate the possibility of doing so and develop a volunteer and intern program with AFH. Currently, however, as most of our student workers come from the center, it is vitally important to clarify with students the various job responsibilities and expectations that they might be asked to take on. Up to this point, we have fallen short of our responsibilities in this area. We have not been very clear with our expectations and have simply asked students to volunteer for and work on projects that align most closely with their interests. When we ask our students to engage in public sociology and community-based research and engagement, it is also our responsibility to work with our students and ensure that they have opportunities for professional development and growth. When hiring student workers, it is tempting to simply assign them basic tasks that we do not wish to take upon ourselves. However, it is only right that we work closely with students and engage them in conversations and discussions about the ways in which their participation in public sociology and communitybased research and engagement can help further develop their skill set and professional growth. We need to be more deliberate in our efforts to foster these conversations, provide strong mentorship for our students and help them ascertain their goals and ambitions. It is also incumbent upon us to work with our students when they are ready to enter the job market – to help them explain in their résumés and cover letters what they have accomplished and the specific skills 151

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they can now market. This is, ironically, easier to do with academic accomplishments – one can list paper presentations and awards earned. It is more difficult, however, to explain what one did as a student intern for a local non-profit organization or what skills a student learned through helping to staff a fundraising booth.

Looking ahead While we have achieved much in our collaboration with AFH and other community partners and stakeholders thus far, we acknowledge that there continues to be much more work that we need to do. Looking ahead, we highlight the need to expand our roles as educators and advocates and the ways we can accomplish this. Burawoy (2005) contends that ideally, traditional public sociology should help frame organic public sociology, while conversely, ‘the latter disciplines, grounds, and directs the former’ (8). We have been much more successful at the second part of this equation – bringing our experiences in community-based research and engagement back into the classrooms and generating new research ideas in the realm of ‘traditional’ scholarship. To cite one example, Carrie teaches ‘Sociology of the Family’ on a regular basis. As a result of her involvement in public sociology, in recent years, she has included a unit on children and families experiencing the impacts of incarceration. Edna Bonacich (2007) argues that in working with the labor movement, her involvement with public sociology has made her a better sociologist. We concur and would add that public sociology has also made us better teachers in the college classroom. Carrie is able to speak about and lead discussions on the topic of families affected by incarceration differently. To quote Bonacich (2007), ‘[B]y getting inside your subject, you get to understand it in a very different way from what you learn by running regression analyses on the computer based on abstracted data acquired at a distance’ (90). Thus far, in our collaboration with AFH, we have focused narrowly on the issue of children of incarcerated parents. Partly, this is a strategic decision. To preserve continued county funding and realizing how unpopular and divisive this could become in a majority conservative county, we chose to focus on the needs of ‘innocent victims.’ Ultimately, however, we need to – and indeed, it is our responsibility to – expand the discussion and connect this narrow focus to larger social issues, including mass incarceration, bail reform, sentencing laws, mental illness, drug laws and racial bias in the criminal justice system (e.g., see Laub and Haskins 2018; Petit and Guitierrez 2018). We have begun to make small inroads in expanding the conversation and at attempting to increase the number and types of audiences we address – per Burawoy’s exhortation. AFH now sponsors several ‘lunch and learn’ presentations, and one recent presentation focused on sentencing laws in the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania and its impacts on children of incarcerated parents. We have begun to explore sponsoring and inviting lecturers who will speak more broadly to racial bias in the criminal justice system as well as conduct outreach to local advocacy groups working on criminal justice reform. The need for a new county prison building is pressing, and we have begun to strategize about the ways in which we can gain a seat at the table and advocate for visiting rooms that will enhance parent-child visits. To conclude, while public sociology can be conceived of in different ways, we argue that community-based research and engagement is a model that situates academic sociologists in the roles of scholar, educator, advocate and activist. Engaging in public sociology does require a different mindset and approach to time and research. Academic sociologists are used to working on a specific project, giving conference presentations, publishing and then moving on to the next project (Bonacich 2007). Public sociology, particularly the organic version, is different. New challenges and issues continually arise in the community, and they do not occur conveniently within the framework of the academic calendar. Organic public sociology requires a kind of 152

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flexibility, nimbleness and persistence from its practitioners – it is a race with stops and starts, and of indeterminate length. We encourage those who had not thought of participating in public sociology to consider doing so. Certainly, for us, community-based research and engagement have been both highly rewarding and fulfilling.

References AFH (Ambassadors for Hope). n.d. “Mission.” Retrieved July 11, 2019 (http://ambassadorsforhope.com). Arditti, Joyce. 2012. Parental Incarceration and the Family: Psychological and Social Effects of Imprisonment on Children, Parents, and Caregivers. New York, NY: New York University Press. Baldrige, Susan. 2017. “Advocate Program Meets Needs of Kids with Incarcerated Parents, But Faces Uncertainty.” LNP, June  11. Retrieved (https://lancasteronline.com/news/local/advocate-programmeets-needs-of-kids-with-incarcerated-parents-but/article_062aaca2–4d4f-11e7-97e5-5b1cb65c75f9. html). Bernstein, Nell. 2007. All Alone in the World: Children of the Incarcerated. New York, NY: The New Press. Bonacich, Edna. 2007. “Working with the Labor Movement: A Personal Journey in Organic Public Sociology.” Pp. 73–94 in Public Sociology: The Contemporary Debate, edited by Lawrence T. Nichols. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Publishers. Burawoy, Michael. 2005. “2004 Presidential Address: For Public Sociology.” American Sociological Review 70(1):4–28. Fairbairn, Jordan. 2019. “The Public Sociologist as a University-Community Hybrid: Lessons from Feminism.” Critical Sociology 45(2):285–304. Frabutt, James M. and Kelly N. Graves. 2016. “The Language and Methods of Community Research.” Pp. 15–32 in Community-Based Research: Teaching for Community Impact, edited by Mary Beckman and Joyce F. Long. Sterling, VA: Stylus Publishing. Hacker, Karen. 2013. Community-Based Participatory Research. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications. Laub, John H. and Ron Haskins. 2018. Helping Children with Parents in Prison and Children in Foster Care. The Future of Children (Princeton-Brookings). Princeton, NJ: Princeton University. Retrieved (https:// futureofchildren.princeton.edu/sites/futureofchildren/files/media/foc-policy_brief_spring_2018__0. pdf). Leavy, Patricia. 2017. Research Design: Quantitative, Qualitative, Mixed Methods, Arts-Based, and CommunityBased Participatory Research Approaches. New York, NY: The Guildford Press. Oliver, Pamela E. 2009. “Talking About Racial Disparities in Imprisonment: A Reflection on Experiences in Wisconsin.” Pp. 281–297 in Handbook of Public Sociology, edited by Vincent Jefferies. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers. Petit, Becky and Carmen Guitierrez. 2018. “Mass Incarceration and Racial Inequality.” American Journal of Economics and Sociology 77(3–4):1153–1182. Siegel, Jane A. 2011. Disrupted Childhoods: Children of Women in Prison. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Smith, Carrie L. 2019. Family Services Advocate Program Evaluation, 2017–2018. Millersville University Civic and Community Engagement Research Series. Millersville, PA: Millersville University Center for Public Scholarship and Social Change. Retrieved (www.millersville.edu/ccerp/files/afh-programevaluation-final.pdf). SWAN (Scaling Walls a Note at a Time). 2019. “Mission.” (www.swan4kids.org/).

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Philippine society in context Foremost, in this chapter is a discussion on a major public issue confronting Philippine society. The issue is embedded in public policies that were established by the Philippine regime and that stirred or affected public lives. Such issue is Duterte’s ‘murder policy’ as anti-crime policy. As the aforementioned issue presents the nature of Philippine public policies, it is also important to note that one key feature of public sociology is how publics are informed or are educated on themes like who defines policies, who implements it, to what social strata of society do these implementers belong and how is the policy being implemented and why. Those points are then followed by the key understanding on the reasons why these policies had evolved. Much more, it is imperative that policies are evaluated on whether these are straightforwardly and sincerely reckoned in the manifest objectives or whether there are latent objectives behind it. Here comes now, a confounding variable, that which greatly affects public norm  – the educational system. It is likewise important in this study to understand the ideological social apparatus that serves as the takeoff point in the conduct of public sociology. Consequently, one will be made aware of the kind of public education that spells out the academic norm for the arena in which public sociology is being performed. This part traces the ideological capabilities that present policies, norms, conduct and/or ethos of the kind of regimes that make the policies and the kind of publics on which these policies are imposed or prescribed. Then, finally, the chapter will tackle the public sociology mix employed in the field to be able to tackle the objective conditions pertinent and peculiar to Philippine sociology. In the preliminary context, critical sociology has been a key lens that is used to tackle policy sociology with the Philippine state in the backdrop. And getting a handle on methods and techniques via professional sociology enables the researcher to consolidate the challenges confronting public sociology in the Philippines today.

Murder as public policy Over 30,000 dead bodies have piled up in the last three years under the Philippines’ Duterte Regime (Talabong 2018a; Reyes 2018). Duterte’s ‘Oplan Tokhang’ or Operation knock and plea 154

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shows a massive pattern of cases of licensed police operatives conducting outright killing and faking or planting evidence in the body of murdered suspects (Gabuco 2016). Cops went on a killing rampage, as the Duterte regime in its anti-crime policies entitled police and civilians alike to kill. The first victims were drug addicts and innocent bystanders, and later, there were peasants, social activists and human rights defenders combined who fell like flies in winter. Duterte’s policy in fact incentivized rogue cops and hired killers to commit murder no different to that of organized crimes (Ibid.). But despite the death toll, the drug trade sustains, and the faucet of regulated drugs like meth production continues unabated. One might ask, is it a ‘war on drugs’ or a ‘war for drugs’? As results, the drug war operations served as a takeoff for intensive military and para-militarization in Philippine communities. It shows armed state forces killing poor community folks in a manner dubbed as ‘extra judicial killing,’ Muslim Filipinos with Duterte’s Martial Law in Mindanao, Southern Philippines, and the number of farmer members of militant civil society organizations first being tagged as communist insurgents (Mayol and Fernandez-Brojan 2019; Calunsod 2018; Cabico 2018; Lumitao 2017; Espina 2019a, 2019b).

Oplan ‘Tokhang’ double barrel (Duterte’s anti-drug war) At a Rise Up1 gathering in Cebu City, some relatives of those victims of the Duterte’s anti-drugs war came for a discussion with the Philippines’ Commission on Human Rights (CHR) and the Karapatan Alliance for the Advancement of People’s Rights (Karapatan), a human rights NGO. Geraldine Ramayla, mother of slain couple Fraldine Kate Ramayla-Canes and husband Michael Racal Canes, gave her testimony on the murder incident that took place April  14, 2019, at about 11 P.M. at Mandaue City, Cebu. Ramayla shared about how the couple had set up a stall for shirts and pants at the Mandaue Pacific Mall. She recounted how the couple, who took off from the Pacific Mall that fateful night, took the granddaughter with them for supper. She said that they were on the way home, onboard a motorbike, when both were shot dead at a corner of Mandaue City while their child was left in shock in between the couple’s dead bodies (Talisic 2019). Kate’s bag was first snapped from her shoulders, but when the husband tried to pull it back, the murderer fired at the husband, killing him, and then the murderer also shot Kate thereafter. Mandaue Police chief Julian Entoma reported the incident as part of their antidrugs operation. However, when media investigated evidence pertaining to the drug involvement of the couple, the police office said it was plainly a robbery incident. Some weeks later, grapevine stories recounted how the motorbike of the couple was found at the police station being used by some policemen of Mandaue City. The four-year-old Skyler Abatayo, son of Gwyn Abatayo, was hit by a stray bullet that killed him instantly. This was when anti-drug operatives had a gun fight at a cluster of households in Barangay Ermita, Cebu City, on July 10, 2018 (Abatayo 2018; Talabong 2018b, 2019). After a day, a police operative recounted how his gun fell when he climbed up a cellar within the cluster of shanties at Barangay Ermita that day and recounted how gunshots were fired, which was followed by the screaming of Skyler’s mother, holding the bloody child in her arms. It must be noted that Barangay Ermita is a highly congested area for gunfighting. Jean Umpad, whose household was victimized by fire that razed down about 700 structures at Mandaue City, Cebu, the Philippines, in March  2017 has been staying at the Cebu International Convention Center (CICC) compound in Mandaue City, being the staging area of the fire victims. Her three children John Vincent (25 years old), Ruben (26 years old) and Jerome (28 years old) were murdered via Duterte’s Oplan Tokhang, on October 2, 2017, at the CICC compound, where they were sleeping that fateful dawn, while the youngest named Rustom (23 years old) was taken to jail by anti-drugs operatives (Mosqueda 2017). Jean Umpad 155

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recounted how three to five operatives got into the tent where her family was sleeping and asked for her three sons. She was taken out and confronted with 20–30 other policemen outside their tent. Then she heard a number of gunshots that killed her sons outright, and their dead bodies were later dragged out of the tent. A police operative who was also a neighbor and fellow victim to the Umpads told the mother, ‘At least you must be happy because you still have one child not killed,’ Mrs. Umpad shared.

Oplan Sauron 1, December 28, 2018, Negros Oriental During the Fact Finding Mission on January 3, 2019, on the first Synchronized Enhanced Managing of Police Operations (SEMPO) or Oplan Sauron on December 28, 20182 Awakened by dogs barking hard at the vicinity of their home, a wife named Jovencia Cubul recounted how she was poked by three ArmaLite barrels right through her face when she opened the door to meet about 40 policemen outside their abode. The story of Jovencia Cubul is how on December 27, 2018, operatives came to murder her husband, Jun Cubul, at about 5:00 A.M. at Barangay Trinidad, Guihulngan City, Negros Oriental.3 Oftentimes, there were only the two of them at home, Jun, her husband, and herself, as described by Ms. Jovencia Cubul. Their four children are all grown-ups and had lived on their own at Cebu Island Province. Jun Cubul was a livestock farmer. A day before the fateful events of December 27, 2018, took place, he had sold a cow at the market at some P14,000.00. That early morning of December  27, 2018, Jun Cubul was in deep slumber when his wife Jovencia opened the door and five uniformed men came into the house. Jovencia was forced out of the house and kept outside with all other armed men when three gunshots were heard. Jovencia jerked as she tried to run back inside the house; however, she was pulled down to sit by the operatives and was barred from getting back to their structure. Later, one policeman came out and gave Jovencia Cubul P2,000.00 telling her that it might be useful for the burial of her husband. Another one interrogated Jovencia about why her husband Jun Cubul had allegedly shifted allegiance from the Citizens Armed Force Geographical Unit (CAFGU), a paramilitary group, to the New People’s Army (NPA), the communist guerilla group. Jovencia also recounted that she was taken to the military detachment together with the body of her husband for the purpose of receiving a copy of the search warrant. However, when she was at the military station, she was only asked to pose for a picture with an officer who was holding a paper that appeared to be something like a search warrant, but she was not given a copy. When she returned back home later that day, she could not find the money proceeds of the sold cow that was supposedly inside the pockets of Jun Cubul’s pants. Rica (27  years old) is the daughter of Demetrio ‘Jimmy’ Fat of Barangay Trinidad, Guihulngan City. Rica recounted how the SEMPO on December 27, 2018, came to their home and murdered her father, Jimmy. The SEMPO was a combination of military elements from the 94th Infantry Battalion of the Philippine Army with police elements from the Philippine National Police (PNP) Regional Office 7, Cebu City.4 The murder victim is farmer Demetrio Fat, nicknamed ‘Jimmy,’ father of Rica. Jimmy Fat is a widow with six children and a resident of Sitio Pantugas, Barangay Trinidad, Guihulngan City, Negros Oriental. Jimmy Fat is an organizer of the local farmers organization named Kahugpungan Alang sa Ugma sa Gagmay nga Mag-uuma sa Oriental Negros (KAUGMAON) – translated as Union for the future of small farmers in Negros Oriental (FUTURE) and an affiliate of the militant Kilusang Magbubukid ng Pilipinas (KMP) or the National Peasants Movement of the Philippines.

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According to Rica’s sworn affidavit, some 15–20 armed men came and broke the door of their residence on the morning of December 27, 2018. Rica said she and her children, Crisel Ann, 14  years old, and another five-month-old child were taken out of the house, leaving her father alone inside. The soldiers went up to the house, beating her father who was crying in pain every time the armed men hit him with their weapons. She heard one of the officers shouting ‘nanlaban,’ meaning resisting arrest. And then later, they were ordered to lie facedown on the ground before they heard six gunshots. The results of the autopsy on the body of Jimmy Fat was that he had five gunshot wounds from a 9 mm handgun that passed through the left side of his body. Rica also recounted that a policeman showed her a piece of paper indicating that it was a search warrant. But it was not handed to her because the police said that it will be inserted into the clothing of her father who was already dead at that point. Another policeman said that her father was keeping an M16 rifle in his bedroom. Later, her father’s body was thrown out of the window. Two policemen went out of the house and placed Jimmy’s body inside a blanket made into a makeshift carriage that they used to lift him, with a leg left to dangle out of the blanket. Delia Isugan, mother of SEMPO 1 victim Jesus ‘Dondon’ Isugan recounted how her family was subjected to Oplan Sauron 1 on December 27, 2018. Delia, 52 years old, is secretary general of the local organization KAUGMAON – KMP. She recounted how her son was just married a year ago and had a child. She said Dondon had his wife and child stay at her home while still building a house some ten meters away at the Isugan residence.5 Delia was out to her farm early on that fateful day of December 27, 2018, to pick some vegetables for breakfast. But when she came home, her son was already dead and placed inside a sack by some 30–50 combined elements of the police and military forces. It was Sheila, young sister of Dondon, who recounted to her how state forces came kicking Dondon’s body from his half-built house structure early in the morning on December 27, 2018. She said, ‘Dondon started the carpentry that day when he was attacked by these armed men. Dondon was kicked at his torso and on his stomach and made to roll on the ground to the back of the house where they heard gunshots. He was kicked again and again even as his dead body was already placed inside an empty rice sack.’ When Delia came back home from the farm to cook breakfast, she was ordered to receive from the policemen a .38-caliber handgun and to sign a paper that it belongs to her, despite the fact that it was just handed to her by the police themselves who murdered her son. Delia together with husband, Dominador, were both taken to jail while the dead body of their son was taken by the military elsewhere. After Delia and Dominador had posted bail, they retired to their home at Buenavista, Guihulngan City, Negros Oriental.

Oplan Sauron 2, March 30, 2019, Negros Oriental and Negros Occidental As reported during the conduct of the National Fact Finding and Solidarity Mission with the National Federation of Sugar Workers (NFSW) and Karapatan after the Second SEMPO, March 30, 2019. Franklin Lariosa was a farmer and single motorized bike driver at Sitio Omol, Barangay Talalak, Sta. Catalina, Negros Oriental. He was the chairperson of Pinagkaisang Samahan ng mga Tsuper at Operators Nationwide (PISTON)-Talalak chapter as well as a member of the Talalak Farmers Association (TUFA), which is also an affiliate of the Kilusang Magbubukid ng Pilipinas (KMP), Negros Oriental. The case was reported by Franklin Lariosa’s wife.6

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That at about five in the morning on March 30, 2019, some 27 policemen with long-sleeved camouflage uniforms bearing a bold print ‘POLICE FORCE’ at the back and balaclavas covering the face approached Franklin and Mario who were preparing to roast a pig for a wedding ceremony that very day. One asked for a Franklin Lariosa. And when Franklin acknowledged he was the one they were looking for, a policeman gave a piece of paper called a search warrant. While Franklin sat at a bench, opened and read the paper, one policeman automatically shot his left hand holding the paper that pierced through his chest and caused him to fall straight down the bench where he was seated. His four-year-old son was right beside him when he was shot dead and fell straight to the ground. The son suffers trauma and still keeps on holding his ears staring blankly at nothing due to the Oplan Sauron incident that shockingly killed his father. Another victim was barangay chair Valentin Acabal of Barangay Candabong Manjuyod. It was early dawn when the operatives threw stones at the galvanized iron sheet roofing of the residence of barangay chair Valentin Acabal. His wife Arjanet woke up ahead at dawn and peeped through the window when the stones landed loudly on their roof. Arjanet noticed some 20 armed men outside their residence. The barangay chair had fever that past night and could not rise up immediately to pay attention to his early visitors. His wife Arjanet shook him to wake him up in time when the armed men broke through their door and entered their room to their surprise. In astonishment the couple raised their hands as if ready to surrender, but screaming, ‘Oh my God please help us!’7 The child who was only seven years old hugged both parents at the back, but the policemen pulled the child and the mother out of the room. The older son, who was already in his teens, reached to help pull back the child and the mother, but a policeman poked the barrel of a long firearm onto the face of the boy. Arjanet cried, begging the men to not hurt her family, but they were all taken downstairs, leaving the village chief in the room with some of the armed men. As they were made to kneel downstairs, they heard one of the armed men yelling upstairs ‘Go ahead, go ahead!’ And then Chief Valentin Acabal cried in pain, ‘My God help me!’ And then three gunshots were fired. One policeman came down from upstairs asking for the switch to put on the lights. And then he approached Arjanet, asking about the real name of Valentin. What was written in a document that the police showed to her to be a search warrant reflected the name ‘Eric Acabal,’ at which Arjanet insisted on the real name of the barangay chief to be Valentin and not Eric. Later, a .45-caliber pistol was handed to Arjanet with a loose magazine of bullets. The police said this was the weapon they found upstairs in the possession of the village chief. The police said Acabal was hiding a pistol in his room. A day after the incident, the family found out that the P30,000.00 sent from their son who is an overseas Filipino worker (OFW) in Dubai was no longer in the closet at the couple’s room upstairs, along with the P7,000.00 church collection from the past Sunday service. Rosalie Palagtiw, daughter of senior citizen Sonny Durango Palagtiw recounted how her father, Sonny, was murdered on March 30, 2019, during the SEMPO 2 operations at Negros Oriental. The family of Sonny Palagtiw resides at Barangay Panciao, Manjuyod, Negros Oriental.8 It was 3:00 in the morning, and all in the household were asleep when some trucks came by along the road near their house-cum-village-store. Rosalie heard the noisy trucks coming by and the voices of some men disembarking from the vehicle. When she opened the window, she now noticed that their whole house was surrounded by armed men wearing long-sleeved camouflage uniforms and balaclavas almost covering their faces. Their shirt bore the print ‘ARMY’ on the back. When the men forced and kicked open the door of their [Palagtiw’s] store downstairs, Rosalie was already at the door with her father Sonny. They were ordered to 158

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lie down prone position at the floor. The men had no name cloths on their uniforms, described Rosalie. Rosalie and her children were taken outside the house and made to walk to the nearby school ground. At the school, which was about 50 meters away from their abode, Rosalie and her kids heard two gunshots. The military told them that Sonny had to be investigated because he was keeping a weapon inside his shop. Rosalie insisted that there was none whatsoever since she cleaned up the store daily. Later, Rosalie noted that the military trucks passed by and the armed men who accompanied them to the school ground went aboard the last one, leaving them behind to go back home. Upon reaching home, they realized that Sonny, Rosalie’s father, was nowhere. They found blood stains on the floor of the store while all the stuffs were already disorganized and in a mess like the whole house was turned upside down. When Rosalie looked into their cash box where the amount of P100,000.00 was supposed to be readied for the repair of the house and the store structure, scheduled that week, she could not find the money anymore.

Human rights violations: a public policy The aforementioned cases are among the human rights violations and killings that activists from the academe had documented in the last few months involving the rampage and daily killings in the Philippines. Here, Duterte’s anti-crime program appears to employ murder as a public policy. Death has been the recurring measure against perceived criminals in the anti-crime policy defined in Duterte’s Oplan Development Support and Security Plan ‘Kapayapaan’ (Peace) 2017–22 (DSSP Kapayapaan 2017–22). In Oplan DSSP Kapayapaan, governance, development and security take a ‘whole-of-nation approach’ in terms of (a) active support to law enforcement in the war against drugs; (b) sustained operation to defeat foreign terrorism called the ISIS and (c) sustained operations against the so-called local terrorist organizations – the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP), the New People’s Army (NPA) and the National Democratic Front (NDF) or what the Duterte regime calls as the CNN.9 For instance, in both the anti-drug enforcement and the counter-insurgency program, the pattern shows how murder has regularly been disguised as legitimate via police alibis that the murdered resisted arrests and that ‘breaking the door’ of households to kill suspects is a legal way of serving arrests and search warrants. Under this policy, there is no proper court order, and there is no rule of law. Operatives during a second ‘synchronized enhanced managing of police operations’ (SEMPO) who killed 14 farmers on March  30, 2019, also wore balaclavas with police and military uniforms without name cloths. The murder of these farmers was due to the reason that they were communist insurgents, despite the absence of court proceedings to prove their culpability (Ibid. Mayol and Brojan). In the same way, these killings escalated simultaneously alongside massive deployments of the military, police and paramilitary groups. The killings were not reported as human rights violations but as regular police and military operations in the manner of ‘Oplan Tokhang’ or the anti-drugs war of the Duterte administration. In SEMPO 2 operations (March  30, 2019), also known as Oplan Sauron 2, at Canlaon City, Negros Occidental, and the Manjuyod Municipality of Negros Oriental, Negros Island, erroneous search warrants were served. These search warrants were acquired from Branch 10 of the Regional Trial Court at Cebu City under a certain judge Soliver Peras (Ibid. Mayol and Brojan). As a policy where there is rule of law, a regular search warrant for arms raids requires case profiles of individuals who may have been constantly in trouble and in felonious conduct in their community that would involve deadly weapons in order to warrant a petition for search in his abode or his properties. The case profile must first establish rigorous facts from community 159

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insiders who stand to witness the tendency to violence of a neighbor. Technically, therefore, a search warrant must be proven in a series of evident behaviors from reliable records of the respondent via the records of the local government unit. But was there a prior incident of criminal norm associated to the farmers murdered at Negros Oriental? It was revealed that their [farmer victims] involvement had always been with the gatherings of the militant Kilusang Magbubukid ng Pilipinas (National Peasants Movement of the Philippines). Who were the witnesses who signed the search warrants? Were they neighbors and residents of the community of the murdered victims? The basic question is what was the basis of Judge Peras’ integrity in a bulk of the 119 search warrants used against these farmers with ‘John Does’ issued to police chief General Debold Sinas to conduct both SEMPO 1 and 2 and particularly in the operations to kill so-called communist insurgents? Furthermore, contrary to local government protocols, search warrants were not served by regular village police but by a composite force of the Philippine National Police (PNP) of Cebu City, a neighboring island province and the 94th Infantry Battalion of the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) (Ibid. Mayol and Brojan). Various irregularities that violate the constitutional provisions on human rights and that of the civil code of the republic are noted with all the killings that took place. Meanwhile, PNP owns up that only 4,251 of all the killings on drug operations were taken by them, disputing that other killings may have been done via vigilantism in the country (Andrade et al. 2018). Likewise, police chief General Albayalde denies the summary execution of 14 farmers in Negros Island (Udtohan 2019). It appears that Duterte stood on the anti-drugs war as a form of bogeyman to cause moral panic in order to manufacture social consent toward a neoliberal world order akin to how the U.S. anti-drug war was in vogue during the administration of US president Nixon (Cockburn and St. Clair 1998:63–94; Paley 2014:39; Klein 2007:188). It must be noted that the anti-drugs political campaign first came into the field as political literature with Nixon’s presidency in the United States in the 1970s, targeting blacks and anti-war activists (Perry 2018). But it was noted to be a big failure, as it unmasked its latent objective was to discipline the racial other, particularly the laboring Global South Economies (Exquivel-Suarez 2018; Paley 2014:39; Klein 2007:188). Well, apparently the war on drugs became a takeoff for the militarization, policization and paramilitarization of the Global South Economies (Ibid. Esquivel-Suarez; Paley:39: Klein: 177–193). Duterte was set to recycle this Nixonian anti-drug political program in a ploy to muddle international foreign policy, flaunting on programs being funded and supported by two opposing camps, the United States and China, and yet the war on drugs made headway to the AFP modernization program supported and funded by the United States’ anti-terror campaign funds and the corporatist deep state corporations. It was rather a good scheme of massive social control standing on moral panic that, in a way, made a fake hero out of Duterte via faking literature in social media and a population of uncontrived Filipino poor in a ‘new shock doctor’ if we have to borrow from Naomi Klein. Prior to the dirty electoral processes on May 13, 2019, were likewise killings that rose in number despite the gun ban, because police and military deployments became embedded into the activities of the Commission on Elections (COMELEC). A new type of federalist charter change (CHACHA) was pushed forward from Duterte’s camp invoking for term limits – hence, a charter change symptomatic of the Duterte regime’s anti-people and anti-democratic designs in connivance with his elite factions girding up for 2022. Murder as a public policy is taken here as a highlight among other concerns. The shock has been derived from the show of massive display of dead bodies of an enormous number of gunless people from urban poor communities 160

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and rural peasants, the regularity of shoot-outs of individuals in the streets or a pattern of a massive attack done by state forces who break open doors and automatically shoot people and justify the murder claiming that the victim resisted arrests. These were unprecedented events that rose during Duterte’s regime. The massive rise of crimes coincided with Duterte’s massive deployment of police, military and paramilitary troupes, never reported as state-sponsored human rights violations but as legitimate anti-crime operations of the PNP and the AFP against the drugs trade, or the ISIS and communist insurgents. These human rights violations were a highlight alongside other concerns such as Duterte’s TRAIN Law as a regressive tax policy with 18% of excise taxes on petrol and sugar-based products that was coupled with the Rice Tariffication Law, depriving Filipino peasants of market shares as they competed with foreign rice traders amid the staggering inflationary rates.

The Philippine academe Before we tackle the role of academe in the conduct of public sociology, perhaps it would be appropriate to situate the Filipino academic in the context of the Philippine educational system and its history. Many would say that the state of Philippine education has been battered and overlaid with complex issues and contradictions (Imbalife 2017; Kris 2019). Philippine education has long been battered with shortage crises. These shortage crises are premised on the lack, if not, absence of Philippine states’ subsidy to education despite the United Nation’s Millennium Development Goals (MDG). Hence, the shortage crises are rooted from the perennial issues of the lack of school buildings, lack of chairs, lack of books, lack of classrooms and facilities, lack of school utilities, lack of teaching equipment, lack of teachers, and that includes the poor wages for teaching staff and the lack of support for the teaching profession and workers in academic institutions (Ibid. Kris 2019). These issues on the shortage crises are compounded by the backward semi-feudal, semi-colonial, imperialist, commercialized and elitist orientation of the Philippine education system (Ibid. Kris 2019). In fact, the best way the Filipino publics may be understood in its sociocultural context today is from the way it is historically shaped by the educational institutions established in the country. History tells us that a shift from the Asiatic mode of production in the Philippine villages commenced when Filipinos were subjected to the Spanish feudal Judaeo-Graeco-Roman and Catholic tradition of Catholic educational institutions such as the beaterios and the conventos and seminary schools (Bazaco 1939:53). Later, with the Moret Decree of 1863, Spain inaugurated the public school system in the Philippines with two basic education institutions in every municipality, which are known as the escuela municipal or the escuelas primarias del ambos sexos, the municipal primary schools for both sexes with separate instructions, one for boys and another for girls (Ibid. Bazaco 1939). However, a highly centralized public school system was later inaugurated with Act No. 74 passed by the Second Philippine Commission that brought in compulsory English instructions and the entry of American teachers called the Thomasites (May 1984:Chapter 3–4; Muerman 1922). At the turn of the century, a combination of the Spanish feudal religious educational institutions and a hint of so-called liberal education with the American civic and popular community schools, grammar schools and norm schools already took turns in shaping the mental imprint of the Filipino psyche. These were entrenched with the public instructions under soldier-like teachers with the directorship of Superintendent Captain Albert Todd of the Bureau of Public Instructions (Ibid. May 1984). Further curricular revisions were introduced under four superintendents that followed  – namely, Fred Atkinson, Elmer Bryan, David Barrows and Frank R. White. It was superintendent 161

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Fred Atkinson who introduced the Suggestive Course of Study that incorporates reading, language, writing, arithmetic, geography, ecology, illustration, sewing, music, rhetoric and physical exercise (Ibid. May 1984). David Barrows emphasized on literature, civics and agriculture with the provision of homestead patents for those who were enrolled in school, while Frank R. White emphasized heavily on practical and industrial arts and the intermediate educational level. In the process, this education furthered the problem that teaching sources and materials had content not from the Filipino environment but fit for the environment of other countries with illustrations and pictures unfamiliar to locals. The learning process was somehow unscientific and not rooted in the everyday observation of the learners’ life in the native communities. Hence, the Philippine educational institutions commenced with distortions and illusory notions to the uncontrived young masses of learners (Reports of the Phil. Commission 1902).10 Eventually, the advent of American popular and political education in the Philippines introduced basic sanitation, good manners and right conduct or the normative aspects of growth and learning, paving the way to the manufacture of social consent from the Filipinos toward American colonial interests in the archipelago. Political education was an adjunct to the colonizer’s urgent task to establish government structures such as the municipal and provincial governments while sustaining the barangay as a basic political unit. Education was a necessary extension to realize the Municipal/Provincial Code of 1901 – a code for an elective but elitist brand of leadership, which defines eligibility for citizenship among those who (a) are males of at least 23 years of age and up, (b) can speak and write English or Spanish, (c) have previous experience of serving as Cabeza’s de Barangay or teniente del barrio, (d) have properties amounting to about P500.00 and up. Hence, political education as an American colonial legacy shaped the first Filipino ruling class who served the foundation of the feudal, capitalistic, entrepreneurial or corporatist public officers and cohorts to foreign monopoly capitalists feasting on the resources of the country (Hutchcroft 1998). By and by, the right to suffrage was extended to women in Philippine society. But the greater problem with the Philippine educational system is how it shaped submissive, half-baked English-speaking citizens with a hackneyed type of learning abilities (Constantino 1959). Furthermore, it has been the purpose for educated Filipinos to graduate from schools, but not for the intent to set up local industries and make their industries compete in the market. Filipinos pursue tertiary education to be able to join the labor pool to render services to corporations that offer promising incomes. Learning was not for the development of local science, technology and industries or for local exploits and national industrialization, but for the interests of foreign corporations and business monopolists (Ibid. May 1984). Eventually, the International Monetary Fund/World Bank’s (IMF/WB) program for decentralized and market-driven Philippine education evolved to its modern international mechanisms that further entrenched a colonial mentality and the Filipino oligarchy. Education in the Philippines is an adjunct to a feudal-corporatist political system, the handmaiden for the greater advantage of multinational and transnational corporations entering into the Philippine market-economy to conscript cheap English-speaking submissive laborers. Consequently, Filipino graduates who are supposed to form part of the country’s social capital flies out regularly, as a large volume of the capital is contracted out to foreign lands where higher income opportunities are available than what is locally produced. At present, the Philippines is made up of some 108 million Filipino people dispersed in 85 provinces, 180 cities, 1,500 municipalities and 42,044 barangays. Despite the claim of independence from the US American policies and the American government are forever present in the Filipino statist norm, while problems of unifying the Philippine society continue to haunt the country’s political-economy (Egan 1968). These are actually aggravated by features like (a) 162

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the archipelagic state; (b) poor system of mobility and communication in the technological and the organizational sense; (c) regionalism; (d) variegated dialects and ethnolinguistic groupings; (e) religiosity and fatalism combined; (f) the Filipino systems of motivation, obligation and reciprocation and (g) the honor and shame orientation (Ibid. Egan 1968). All the rest was history. But come to imagine what it’s like with the contemporary arrangement where knowledge is the most important form of global capital (OECD 1996a, 1996b, 1997).11 Along with the proletarianization of the academic worker in the university, students are not citizens who shall be trained for the purpose of the foundation of a functional nationstate, but students are rendered as clients purchasing instructions in a discipline for their own advantage and profit. The young are viewed as buyers of credentials for the pursuit of a productive form of profit-making profession. Somehow, it comes as a harsh manner of transfiguration from that of pre-Hispanic learning produced by the native babaylan’s (priestess) ritualistic epic hymns into today’s knowledge economy, dubbed as knowledge capitalism characterized in terms of the economic abundance, the annihilation of distance, the de-territorialization of the state and investment in human capital (Olsen and Peters 2007). Unlike other goods, knowledge is viewed as one that shares many of the properties of a public good, which implies the need for governments to protect intellectual property rights in a global economy that is likewise marked by greater potential monopolies than those of the industrial age (Ibid. Olsen and Peters 2007). Bob Jessop, although, refers to the same as ‘the commodification of knowledge’ (Jessop 2007).

Public sociology in the Philippines In the Philippines (particularly in the experience of Cebu, the Philippines), public sociology foremost reminds Filipino social scientists of the task of re-imagining social problems ala C. Wright Mills by moving beyond social constructionism, such as Mills’ iconic voice saying: ‘I have to do it: It is my duty because nobody else will stand up and say shit out loud’ (Buono 2013). In the Marcos regime in the Philippines, academics as social activists then had not had a hint that a more lethal kind of authoritarianism and/or perpetual state of war will ever come to rule the country as it is today with the Duterte regime. Who would have known? For how can one conceive of a strategy to equip one with the foresight on future scenarios? To be more precise, this is an example where public sociology becomes a necessary platform to create conversations for rational change to happen in a society under conditions of a state of repression while struggling as a third-world state confronted with poverty and distress. In other words, public sociology becomes a mechanism to record and publish a pattern of public interest articulation. This resonates from Burawoy’s (2005) civil society as a touchstone of public sociology in his four sociological divisions of labor or where Joe R. Feagin’s social justice and sociology become genuine and not just one that exists in a vacuum (Feagin, Elias, and Mueller 2009:19–24). Public sociology here may also be a tool to unmask local and international regimes that have long controlled poor societies at the periphery like the Global South nation-states, from achieving greater freedom and independence. Public sociology becomes an enabling mechanism for social empowerment toward the institutional strengthening of social movements for change that starts from conversations in the classroom toward greater public involvement in civil society organizations and pertinent social institutions akin to Burawoy’s (2005) multiple publics highlighting whatever encroachment by and between markets and the state (Ibid. Feagin et al 2009:19–24). It may sound very optimistic and ambitious, given the example here where the problem is particularly the Philippine educational system and where Filipino progressive academics are constantly confronted with red-baiting and death threats while schools are subjected to police, military and paramilitary interdiction. A  policy provided under the DSSP Kapayapaan 2017–22 and 163

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particularized among others in the Letter of the Commission on Higher Education (CHED) to the University of the Philippines Baguio to accommodate the entry into the UP Campus of PNP Cordillera Regional Mobile Force Battalion 15, despite the existing University of the Philippines  – Department of National Defense Accord (UP-DND) of 1987 stipulating that armed units shall only be allowed 50 kilometers from the vicinity of the university. Here, rectifying the public invisibility of sociology comes public sociology that is perceived to be handmaiden of a greater social movement toward genuine democratization where marginalized sectors will have sufficient access to resources to play an important role in civil society and in the state. In a way, public sociology is an academic exercise that will serve as a social tool and enabling mechanism to unlock the culture of silence in oppressed communities via extensive discussions, theorizing and social engineering of support organizations for the marginalized to have access to the state and make changes in its representation. Public sociology is a means to unmask how the state has straightforwardly and violently served as an instrument for the protection and preservation of the interest of the ruling class. Therefore, it is where the sociology of public policy instrumentation is at work in the manner that is integrated into the actual governing, means making, regulating, tax implementing, communicating and so on that shall become part of a rationality of methods in its autonomous function. It is where public policy instrumentation as a major end in the field of sociology reveals a fairly explicit theorizing of the relationship between the governing and the governed (Lascoumes and Le Gale 2007:1–21; Boyns and Fletcher 2005:5–26). Especially in the Philippines, now more than ever, public sociologists have to be emboldened as harbingers of the process of democratization because the Philippines is confronted with an entrenched level of democratic deficit and absence of the rule of law. And it needs civil society formations that are self-organized, voluntary, self-generating, genuinely autonomous from the state, equipped with public interest articulation, and bound by a legal order or a set of shared rules. Thus, a sociology of public demonstration becomes the end point of public sociology here, where they serve as proofs, persuasion tools, transactional and coordination devices, cognitive and relational tools or mobilization and competition apparatuses (Rosental 2014:343–365). The sociology of public demonstration measures how efficient and effective is the public sociology that is being engaged. Next is that while public sociology often involves actual public conversations and open debates on existing issues detrimental to society, through different lenses and from widely differing political and personal standpoints, all may raise these issues into scientific problems for theorizing, which in the course of history may also become recognized as significant multi-causal watersheds of history to be learned in a manner adherent to professional sociology. At a certain point, perhaps public sociology’s greater challenge is on the task of decolonizing national imaginaries. Hence, in the overall diffusion of public policies, public interest articulation and public demonstrations, there lies the greater question on how sociologists should define the overarching experience toward its theoretical underpinnings in the framework of professional sociology, be they social construction, coercion, competition or learning (Dobbin, Simmons, and Garret 2007:449–472). Likewise, it is imperative that public sociology provides enabling mechanisms for academics or practitioners to employ publicly close-range methods such as case studies with definite techniques of gathering data at close range with the affected publics. For instance, sociologists may employ sociography, ethnography, observation-participant-observation and other field-based methods of scrutiny particularly on the specificities of issues detrimental to the existence of certain social structures and social imaginaries. It connotes danger to academic existence, but it is crucial to engage and involve academics in barefoot research, like those in the case of understanding the ‘drugs trade’ and ‘human rights abuses’ amid a regime’s public policy on murder or ‘necropolitics.’ It also involves direct confrontation on public issues in the 164

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communities where scholars shall be able to conduct basic mass integration and/or observationparticipant-observation, without which public sociology will be far out and fail to be of service to the public. The Philippines as a case study is one interesting investigation where public sociology highlights parallel regimes in the mode of so-called authoritarian populism. Some scholars describe this ‘authoritarian populism’ to be ‘half popular and developmentally progressive in its programs’ and ‘half authoritarian.’ However, with murder as openly defined by Duterte himself as his ‘public policy’ and anti-crime strategy, it enthrones a kind of political dynamics that is still an outright and naked form of ‘authoritarianism’ (Juego 2017; Scoones et al. 2017:1–20). This is more recently entrenched in the same dirty politics as election fraud, drastic rampage of killings or violence to threaten voters and sustain political power (Rappler 2019). Its anti-corruption campaigns are simply selective just like Duterte’s anti-drug war. This is no authoritarian populism per se but is simply fascism via a political settlement scheme in a network of collegial accommodations between and among feudal agrarian power holders and compradors backing up one bold dictator as the mouthpiece. This is a mechanism of a dictator: a social class, via a distinctive mathematical calculation on a population of poor people who can be employed and are willing to be manipulated under authoritarianism via allied agrarian economic power holders and compradors in municipalities, provinces and regions and who were promised stakes under a federal government to take place. This is simply a mathematical calculation of battalions of rogue cops, anti-people mercenaries, military forces and their respective families that can be employed to moonlight with the regime’s politics of death (Ibid. AFP DSSP Kapayapaan 2017–2022). This is increased police, military interdiction and paramilitarization of poor villages (Ibid. Esquivel Suarez). This is employing pseudo media that can manipulate communication technologies to spread lies, trolls and fake news (Matsuzawa 2017; Williams 2017; Lamble and Mohan 2016). But truly, cases studies are ‘empirical inquiries that investigate a contemporary phenomenon within its real-life context when the boundaries between phenomenon and context are not clearly evident, and in which multiple sources of evidences are used’ (Yin 1984:19). In this sense, a case study when triangulated with sociography, ethnography and observationparticipant-observation can truly make in-depth and rigorous data analyses. Like for instance, while it is true that the Epifanio de los Santos Avenue Revolution (EDSA) people power revolution ended the 20-year Marcos dictatorship, it barely arrested the ills of the previous dictatorship where some hint of anti-people practices still reflect the practices of the regimes that followed EDSA. Was EDSA people power truly a genuine democratic transition? Did it entirely reverse the position of the dominated and the dominant? Proof of this is how many times most of the regimes from Marcos to Duterte had attempted to change the constitution to fit the interest of the ruling class to hold on to power forever. This time Duterte’s charter change calls for a kind of federalism without term limits to incumbent executives in local government units and that of the highest executive (Roxas 2018; Lim 2018). Somehow, the regimes following Marcos’ dictatorship prior to Duterte’s regime were like a hologram reflecting hues of the Marcos regime’s practices, yet not entirely like it, but still not also outright different from it. Come to think of the flaunted agrarian reform that started to criminalize farmers and the lopsided economic policies, like the value-added taxation and, then later, the expanded value-added taxation. Almost all economic policies hit the masses of poor Filipinos hard since Marcos’ time was sustained even after the dictator. And the regimes that followed, were symptomatic of the coming back or the return of an old order in a more aggressive and lethal form. Evil deeds were already lurking despite the semblance of so-called democratic exercises. Apparently, the EDSA people power fell short of a revolution that would 165

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provide genuine social-structural transformation in Philippine society where the dominant is completely destroyed under the blows of a new order or the powers of the dominated. But this could not take place. As a result, the half-baked or not-so-sharp claws of EDSA people power institutions resurrected an old order, like bacteria in a gigantic and exponential form. This kind of authoritarianism in Duterte’s regime today is even more dangerous in its nth power (Ibid. Juego 2017; Scoones et al. 2017). Public sociology makes use of ‘public action’ that calls to first enable the public to practice and hone their engagement in various forms of conversations such as the conduct of public fora, street protests, symposium-forum, dialogues, media conferences, lobbying at public offices, community organizing, fact-finding missions, public debates, jail visits and or litigation as among key movements that public sociology may involve. All these form what we call the sociology of ‘public demonstration’ (Ibid. Rosental). Second, public sociology here requires the sociologists’ ability to mobilize people and make them engage in activities involving mass participation. Public sociology likewise stands on the scholar’s ability to mass up the public as in the way of social movements where populations are engaged in a manner of collective interest articulation. Public sociology is an enabling mechanism for the establishment of a critical mass as an alternative to the failings of government institutions.

Figure 13.1 Philippine public sociology as intertwined in the tools of professional sociology and critical\conflict sociology, which are employed to assess public policies in working on policy sociology 166

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Conclusion To sum up the manner of engagement that Philippine public sociology is undertaking are four major areas of concern, namely (1) the task of re-imagining social problems ala C. Wright Mills; (2) rectifying the invisibility of sociology in the public via making sociology directly felt in public opinion or public reasoning and debates; (3) providing the platform for public policy instrumentation since instruments at work are not neutral, producing specific effects, independent of the objectives being pursued, which structure public policy according to their logic and, lastly, (4) providing occasion for massive public demonstrations. The conduct of public sociology here stood on the foundations of a critical and conflict sociology using the Marxist lens. While the Philippines’ case accounts on social issues and social problems emanating from the public policies of Philippine regimes, critical/conflict sociology shreds these policies into details and subjects it to methods and means of public conversations in order to achieve emancipation for the common

Figure 13.2 Philippine public sociology as a staggered process of professional and critical sociological modes in the scrutiny of public policies 167

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man. This radical sociology enables the public to understand power relations between and among groups who are particularly engaged in specific conflicts over certain or specific resources. Following after the role of radical sociology, policy sociology juxtaposes instrumental knowledge to define the extent or the impact of public policies to the publics and/or society. It looks into the problems that arise as a result of public interaction toward policies as well as the functioning of society focusing on its development and structure. This is because, public policy entails the principles and values from which are derived the rules and laws made for society. In turn, the sociologist is informed about the nature and condition of non-academic groups and/ or the publics and the nature of the public concerns and public struggles. And then professional sociology problematizes theories and methods for the provision of appropriate research designs, to extract and organize data and to cull observations and patterns of public action as responses to public policies. It enables one to draw out or test theories be they social construction, coercion, competition or learning from social issues, understanding social institutions, cultures, groups, organizations or processes of interaction that develop when people work together as a social movement. Here are diagrams illustrating the mechanisms and structural flow that may inform us of a kind of public sociology mix where public sociology stands on the triad of professional sociology, critical sociology and policy sociology (Figures 13.1 and 13.2). Its greater end is to affect policy changes via people participation honed at the level of conflict or critical sociology.

Notes 1 Rise Up is a non-governmental human rights organization under the auspices of the Roman Catholic Church, specifically assisting relatives of murder victims of the anti-drugs campaign of the Duterte Regime. Retrieved June 12, 2019 (www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=9&v=aqNoUPTzQA M&feature=emb_logo). 2 FFM report to Archbishop 2019. Fact Finding Mission (FFM) of Karapatan Central Visayas, Guihulngan City, and the towns of Mabinay and Sta. Catalina, Negros Oriental, January 3, 2019. 3 Affidavit No. 1, Karapatan Central Visayas, January 3, 2019. 4 Affidavit No. 2, Karapatan Central Visayas, January 3, 2019. 5 Affidavit No. 3, Karapatan Central Visayas, January 3, 2019. 6 Affidavit No. 1, Karapatan Central Visayas, April 8, 2019. 7 Affidavit No. 2, Karapatan Central Visayas, April 8, 2019. 8 Affidavit No. 3, Karapatan Central Visayas, April 8, 2019. 9 Executive Order No. 66. “Otherwise known as ‘Institutionalizing the Philippine Anti-Illegal Drugs Strategy.’ ” Retrieved April 28, 2019 (www.officialgazette.gov.ph/download/2018/10Oct/20181029EO-66-RRD.pdf ); Presidential Memorandum Order No. 17. “Directing the PNP, and other Law Enforcement Agencies to Resume Providing Active Support to the Philippine Drug Enforcement Agency in the Conduct of Anti-Illegal Drugs Operations” which in street lingo refers to “Oplan Tokhang Double Barrel Reloaded.” Retrieved April  28, 2019 (www.officialgazette.gov.ph/ downloads/2017/12dec/20171205-M0-17-RRD.pdf); Presidential Proclamation 216. “Declaring a State of Martial Law and Suspending the Privilege of the Writ of Habeas Corpus in the Whole of Mindanao.” Retrieved April  28, 2019 (www.officialgazette.gov.ph/downloads/2017/12/ dec/2017); Proclamation No. 55 series of 2016. “Declaring as ‘State of National Emergency on the Account of Lawless Violence in Mindanao.” Retrieved April  28, 2019 (www.officialgazette. gov.ph/2016/09/04/proclamation-no-55-s-2016/); Presidential Proclamation No. 374. “Declaring the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP)-New People’s Army (NPA) as a Designated/ Identified Terrorist Organization Under Republic Act No. 10168.” Retrieved April 28, 2019 (www. officialgazette.gov.ph/downloads/201712dec/20171205-PROC-374-RRD.pdf); Executive Order No. 70. “Institutionalizing the Whole-of-Nation Approach in Attaining Inclusive and Attainable Peace, Creating a National Task Force to End Local Communist Armed Conflict, and Directing the Adoption of a National Peace Framework.” Retrieved April  28, 2019 (www.officialgazette.

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gov.ph/downloads/2018/12dec/20181204-EO70-RRD.pdf); Presidential Memorandum Order No. 32. “Reinforcing the Guidelines for the Armed Forces of the Philippines and the Philippine National Police in the Implementation of Measures to Suppress and Prevent Lawless Violence,” specifically in the provinces of Samar, Negros Oriental and Negros Occidental and the Bicol Region. Retrieved April  28, 2019 (https://www/officialgazette.gov.ph/downloads/2018/11nov/20181122MO-32-RRD.pdf). 10 Reports of the Philippine Commission 1902:2:967. 11 OECD. 1996a. “Lifelong Learning.” Retrieved June 23, 2019 (www.oecd.org/officialdocuments/public displaydocumentpdf/?cote=DEELSA/ED/CERI/CD(2000)12/PART1/REV2&docLanguage=En); OECD 1996b. “Knowledge-Based Economy.” Retrieved June  23, 2019 (www.oecd.org/official documents/publicdisplaydocumentpdf/?cote=OCDE/GD%2896%29102&docLanguage=En); OECD 1997. “Report on Regulatory Reform Synthesis.” Retrieved June 23, 2019 (www.oecd.org/ gov/regulatory-policy/2391768.pdf).

References Academic online journals Boyns, David and Jennifer Fletcher. 2005. “Reflections on Public Sociology: Public Relations, Disciplinary Identity, and the Strong Program in Professional Sociology.” The American Sociologist 36(3–4):5–26, Fall–Winter. Buono, R.A. Dello. 2013. “63rd Annual Meeting of the Society for the Study of Social Problems (SSSP) on the Theme: ‘Re-Imagining Social Problems Beyond Social Constructionism’.” Report of the Society for the Study of Social Problems The Westin Newyork at Times Square. Retrieved June 23, 2019 (www.ssspl.org/index.cfm/pageid/1613/). Burawoy, Michael. 2005. “For Public Sociology.” 2004 American Sociological Association Presidential Address: For Public Sociology, May 31. Retrieved June 23, 2019. doi:10.1111/j.1468-4446.2005. 00059.x. Dobbin, Frank, Beth Simmons, and Geoffrey Garret. 2007. “The Global Diffusion of Public Policies: Social Construction, Coercion, Competition, or Learning.” Annual Journal of Sociology, March  23. Retrieved October 25, 2019 (www.doi:101146/annurev.soc.33.090106.142507). Exquivel-Suarez, Fernando. 2018. “The Global War on Drugs” Global South Studies, a Collective Publication with the Global South, University of Virginia, August 23 Retrieved May 31, 2019 (https:// globalsouthstudies.as.virginia.edu/key/Global-war-drugs). Jessop, Bob. 2007. “Knowledge as a Fictitious Commodity: Insights and limits of a Polanyian Perspective (First Draft).” Retrieved June 23, 2019 (www.Researchgate.net/publication/237549967_Knowledge_ as_a_Fictitioys_CommoddityInsights_and_Limits_of_a_Polanyian_Perspective_First_Draft). Juego, Bonn. 2017. “The Philippines 2017: Duterte-Led Authoritarian Populism and Its LiberalDemocratic Roots.” The Journal of Asia Maior: XXVIII. Retrieved June 23, 2019 (www.asiamaior.org/ files/Philippines-Juego_AM-2017.pdf). Lascoumes, Pierre and Patrick Le Gale. 2007. “Introduction: Understanding Public Sociology Through Its Instruments.” From the Nature of Instruments to the Sociology of Public Policy Instrumentation. Governance: An International Journal of Policy, Administration and Institutions:1–21, January 22. Retrieved October 25, 2019. doi:10.1111/i.1468-0491.2007.00342.x. Olsen, Mark and Michael A. Peters. 2007. “Neoliberalism, Higher Education and the Knowledge Economy: From the Free Market to the Knowledge Capitalism.” Retrieved June 23, 2019 (www.tandfon line.come/doi.abs/10.1080/02680930500108718). Perry, Mark J. 2018. “The Shocking Story Behind Richard Nixon’s ‘War on Drugs’ That Targeted Blacks and Anti-War Activists.” American Enterprise Institute Blogpost. Retrieved May 31, 2019 (www.aei.org/ carpe-diem/the-shocking-and-sickening-story-behind-nixons-war-on-drugs-that-targeted-blacksand-anti-war-activists/).

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Rosental, Claude. 2014. “Toward a Sociology of Public Demonstrations.” Sociological Theory: American Sociological Association 31(4), January 14, Sage Publications. Retrieved October 25, 2019 (https://doi. org/101177/0735275113513454). Scoones, Ian, Marc Edelman, Saturnino M. Borras, Jr., Ruth Hall, Wendy Wolford, and Ben White. 2017. “Emancipatory Rural Politics: Confronting Authoritarian Populism.” The Journal of Peasant Studies, June 19. Retrieved June 23, 2019 (https://doi.org/10.1080/03066150.2017.1339603).

Affidavits Affidavit No. 1, “Jun Cubul Case. December 27, 2018.” Karapatan Central Visayas, January 3, 2019. Affidavit No. 2, “Demetrio Fat Case. December 27, 2018.” Karapatan Central Visayas, January 3, 2019. Affidavit No. 3, “Jesus ‘Dondon’ Isugan Case. December 27, 2018.” Karapatan Central Visayas, January 3, 2019. Affidavit No. 1, “Franklin Lariosa Case. March 30, 2019.” Karapatan Centeral Visayas, April 8, 2019. Affidavit No. 2, “Valentin Acabal Case. March 30, 2019.” Karapatan Central Visayas, April 8, 2019. Affidavit No. 3, “Sonny D. Palagtiw Case. March 30, 2019.” Karapatan Central Visayas, April 8, 2019.

Books Bazaco, Evergisto. 1939. History of Education in the Philippines. Pp. 33–65. Philippines: University of Santo Tomas Press. Cockburn, Alexander and Jeffrey St. Clair. 1998. Whiteout: The CIA, Drugs and the Press. Pp. 63–94. London and New York: Verso. Constantino, Renato. 1959. “The Miseducation of the Filipino.” Weekly Graphic, June 8. Pp. 39–65. The Filipinos in the Philippines and Other Essays. Malaya Books. Retrieved June 23, 2019. (https://pdfs. semanticscholar.org/7735/865e2ea8fd8d9662f3916ffe41cc14376706.pdf). Egan, Fred. 1968. “Philippine Social Structure.” Pp. 1–48 in Six Perspectives on the Philippines, edited by George Guthrie. Manila, Philippines: Bookmark. Feagin, Joe R., Sean Elias, and Jennifer Mueller. 2009. “Social Justice and Critical Public Sociology.” Pp. 19–24 in Handbook of Public Sociology, edited by Vincent Jeffries. Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefields Publishers, Inc. Hutchcroft, Paul D. 1998. Booty Capitalism: The Politics of Banking in the Philippines. Pp. 13–31. Manila: Ateneo de Manila University Press. Klein, Naomi. 2007. The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism. Pp. 177–193. Picador: United States of America, Pan Books Limited. May, Glen Anthony. 1984. Social Engineering in the Philippines: The Aims, Execution and Impact of American Colonial Policy, 1900–1913. Chapter 3–4. Quezon City, Philippines: New Day Publishers. Paley, Dawn. 2014. Drug War Capitalism. Pp. 39–51. Oakland, Edinburgh and Baltimore: AK Press. Yin, Robert. 1984. Case Study Research: Design and Methods. Pp. 4–27. Newbury Park, CA: Sage.

Online magazine and newspaper articles Abatayo, Rosalie O. 2018. “Entire Village Mourns for Skyler.” Philippine Daily Inquirer, July  20 (www. newsinfo.inquirer.net/1012166/entire-village-mourn-for-skyler). Andrade, Jeannette I., Melvin Gascon, and Inquirer Research. 2018. “PNP Admits 4,251 Killed in War on Drugs.” Inquirer.net, May  8. Retrieved May  20, 2020 (https://newsinfo.Inquirer.net/988352/ pnp-admits-4251-killed-in-war-on-drugs). Cabico, Gaea Katrina. 2018. “Karapatan Submits Report on Rights Violation Under Martial Law in Mindanao to UN Experts.” Philstar Global, May  22. Retrieved June  12, 2019 (www.philstar.com/ headlines/2018/05/221817609/karapatan-submits-report-rights-violations-under-martial-law-mind anao-un-experts). 170

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Calunsod, Ronron. 2018. “Concerns Linger Over Martial Law in Mindanao.” ABS-CBN News, March 23. Retrieved June 12, 2019 (www.news.abs-cbn.com/news/05/23/18/Concerns-linger-overmartial-law-in-mindanao). Espina, Marchel P. 2019a. “14 Killed in Police Operations in Negros Oriental.” Rappler, March 30. Gabuco, Carlo. 2016. “ ‘License to Kill’: Philippine Police Killings in Duterte’s ‘War on Drugs’.” Human Rights Watch, August  1. Retrieved June  12, 2019 (www.hrw.org/Report/2017/03/02/license-kill/ Philippine-police-killings-dutertes-war-drugs). ImbaLife. Com. 2017. “7 Key Issues and Problems of Philippine Education.” Retrieved May 31, 2019 (www.imbalife.com/7-key-issues-and-problems-of-philippine-Education). Kris, Ben. 2019. “PH Education in Crisis.” The Manila Times, March 3. Retrieved May 31, 2019. Lamble, Kate and Megha Mohan. 2016. “Trolls and Triumph: A Digital Battle in the Philippines.” BBC Trending What’s Popular and Why, December  7. Retrieved June  23, 2019 (www.bbc.com/news/ blogs-trending-38173842). Lim, Cherry Ann T. 2018. “Term Limits, Dynasty Ban Removed in House-Proposed Charter.” SunStar Cebu, October 8. Retrieved June 23, 2019 (www.sunstar.com.ph/article/1768149). Lumitao, Ruth. 2017. “Rights Abuses on the Rise After Mindanao Martial Law Extension.” Bulatlat.com, December 20. Retrieved June 12, 2019 (www.bulatlat.com/2017/12/20/rights-abuses-rise-mindanaomartial-law-extension/). Matsuzawa, Mikas. 2017. “Duterte Camp Spent $200,000 for Troll Army, Oxford Study Finds.” Philippine Star, July  24. Retrieved June  24, 2019 (www.philstar.com/headlines/2017/07/24/1721044/ Duterte-camp-spent-200000-troll-army-oxford-study-finds). Mayol, Ador Vincent and Connie Fernandez-Brojan. 2019a. “14 Negros Farmers Summarily Executed – Fact-Finding Teams.” Inquirer.net, April 9. Retrieved June 12, 2019 (www.newsinfo.inquirer. net//1104525/14-negros-farmers-summarily-executed-finding-teams). Mosqueda, Mars W. 2017. “3 Days After Leaving Jail, 3 Brothers Killed in Cebu Drug Bust.” Rappler, October 2. Retrieved May 31, 2019 (www.rappler.com/nation/184106-brothers-killed-cebu-drugbust). Rappler. 2019. “#HalalanDayaan2019: Netizens Raise Concerns Over Perceived Irregularities.” Rappler 2019 Philippine Elections, May  14. Retrieved October  25, 2019 (www.rappler.com/nation/politics/ elections2019/230664-halalan-dayaan-alleged-electoral-fraud-concerns-online). Reyes, Rachel A.G. 2018. “Counting the Killings: 20,000 and Rising.” The Manila Times, April  24. Retrieved June 12, 2018 (www.manilatimes.net/counting-the-killings-20000-and-rising/394576/). Roxas, Patricia Ann V. 2018. “Arroyo: Term Limits for Lawmakers Under Federal Gov’t: A ‘Collegial Decision’.” Inquirer.net, October 8. Retrieved June 24, 2019 (https://newsinfo.inquirer.net/1040258/ term-limits-for-congressmen-under-federal-system-a-collegial-decision-arroyo). Talabong, Rambo. 2018a. “At Least 33 Killed Daily in the Philippines Since Duterte Assumed Office.” Rappler, June  15. Retrieved June  12, 2019 (https://rappler.com/newsbreak/in-depth/204949-pnpnumber-deaths-daily-duterte-administraion). Talabong, Rambo. 2018b. “Skyler Abatayo Hit by Stray Bullet After Doing School Assignment.” Rappler, July 12. Retrieved May 31, 2019 (www.rappler.com/nation/207158-skyler-abatayo-killed-afterfinishing-school-assignment). Talabong, Rambo. 2019. “Skyler Abatayo Case: 4 Cops Sacked as Probe Begins.” Rappler, July  14. Retrieved May 31, 2019 (www.rappler.com/nation/207284-cops-relieved-skylar-abatay-case). Talisic, Benjie B. 2019. “Motorcycle-Riding-Gunmen Kill Couple in Late Night Ambush.” Cebu DailyNews, April  15. Retrieved May  31, 2019 (www.cebudaily.news.inquirer.net/228376/motorcycleriding-gunmen-kill-couple-in-late-night-mandaue-ambush). Udtohan, Leo. 2019. “Albayalde Assails Claims Police Summarily Executed ‘Negros 14’.” Inquirer.net, April 10. Retrieved May 31, 2019 (https://newsinfo.inquierer.net/1105381/albayalde-assails-claimspolice-summarily-executed-negros-14). Williams, Sean. 2017. “Rodrigo Duterte’s Army of Online Trolls: How Authoritarian Regimes Are Winning the Social Media Wars.” The New Republic, January 4. Retrieved June 24, 2019 (https://newre public.com/article/138952/rodrigo-duterte-army-online-trolls). 171

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Online policy documents AFP Development Support and Security Plan (DSSP) Kapayapaan. 2017–2022. Retrieved April 28, 2019 (https://mronline.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/AFP-Development-Support-and-SecurityPlan-Kapayapaan-2017-2022.pdf). Espina, Marchel P.  2019b. “Cops in Bloody Negros Oriental Operations Took Victim’s MoneyRelatives.” Rappler, April 6. Retrieved June 12, 2019 (www.rappler.com/nation/cops-took-victimsmoney-negros-oriental-killings-april-6-2019). Executive Order No. 66. 2018. “Otherwise Known as ‘Institutionalizing the Philippine Anti-Illegal Drugs Strategy.” Official Gazette of the Government of the Republic of the Philippines. Retrieved April 28, 2019 (www.officialgazette.gov.ph/download/2018/10Oct/20181029-EO-66-RRD.pdf). Executive Order No. 70. 2018. “Institutionalizing the Whole-of-Nation Approach in Attaining Inclusive and Attainable Peace, Creating a National Task Force to End Local Communist Armed Conflict, and Directing the Adoption of a National Peace Framework.” Official Gazette of the Government of the Republic of the Philippines. Retrieved April  28, 2019 (www.officialgazette.gov.ph/downloads/ 2018/12dec/20181204-EO70-RRD.pdf). OECD. 1996a. “Lifelong Learning.” Retrieved June 23, 2019 (www.oecd.org/Officialdocuments/public displaydocumentpdf/?cote=DEELSA/ED/CERI/CD(2000)12/PART1?REV2&docLanguage=EN). OECD. 1996b. “Knowledge Based Economy.” Retrieved June 23, 2019 (www.oecd.org/officialdocuments/ publicdisplaydocumentpdf/?cote=OCDE/GD%2896%29102&docLanguage=En). OECD. 1997. “Report on Regulatory Reform Synthesis.” Retrieved June 23, 2019 (www.oecd.org/gov/ regulatory.policy/2391768.pdf). Presidential Memorandum Order No. 17. 2017. “Directing the PNP, and Other Law Enforcement Agencies to Resume Providing Active Support to the Philippine Drug Enforcement Agency in the Conduct of Anti-Illegal Drugs Operations.” Official Gazette of the Republic of the Philippines. Retrieved April 28, 2019 (www.officialgazette.gov.ph/downloads/2017/12dec/20171205-M0-17-RRD.pdf). Presidential Memorandum Order No. 32. “Reinforcing the Guidelines for the Armed Forces of the Philippines and the Philippine National Police in the Implementation of Measures to Suppress and Prevent Lawless Violence specifically in the provinces of Samar, Negros Oriental and Negros Occidental, and the Bicol Region.” Official Gazette of the Government of the Republic of the Philippines. 2018. Retrieved April 28, 2019 (https://www/officialgazette.gove.ph/downloads/2018/11nov/20181122-MO-32-RRD.pdf). Presidential Proclamation No. 55 series of 2016. 2016. “Declaring as ‘State of National Emergency on the Account of Lawless Violence in Mindanao.” Official Gazette of the Government of the Republic of the Philippines. Retrieved April  28, 2019 (www.offocialgazette.gov.ph/2016/09/04/ proclamation-no-55-2016). Presidential Proclamation No. 216. 2017. “Declaring a State of Martial Law and Suspending the Privilege of the Writ of Habeas Corpus in the whole of Mindanao.” Official Gazette of the Government of the Republic of the Philippines. Retrieved April  28, 2019 (www.officialgazette.gov.ph/ downloads/2017/12/dec/2017). Presidential Proclamation No. 374. 2017. “Declaring the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP)-New People’s Army (NPA) as a Designated/Identified Terrorist Organization Under Republic Act No. 10168.” Official Gazette of the Government of the Republic of the Philippines. Retrieved April 28, 2019 (www.officialgazette.gov.ph/downloads/201712dec/20171205-PROC-374-RRD.pdf). Reports of the Philippine Commission. 1902:2:967. United Nations. 2015. “We Can End Poverty: Millennium Development Goals and Beyond 2015.” United Nations Millennium Development Goals. Retrieved June 19, 2015 (ww.un.org/millenniumgoals/).

Unpublished dissertation Muerman, John C. 1922. “Philippine Schools Under the Americans.” PhD Dissertation, George Washington University, pp. 13–22. 172

14 Peasant mobilisations in India Intersecting class, ethnicity and nationality questions Debal K. SinghaRoy

Introduction Historically and geographically, many parts of India have experienced a slow rate and imbalanced patterns of agricultural development and persisting economic backwardness. Peasant and peasant societies have been experiencing the brunt of such backwardness despite various economic reform programmes initiated for them. Thus, peasants, who have long experienced poor economic and social status, feudal domination, sharp downward mobility and livelihood insecurity, are now experiencing persistent economic insecurity, large-scale rural to urban migration and change in their occupational structure. These changes are widely caused by part implementation of land reform laws, initiation of new state policy initiatives for rural development, introduction of new road and transport systems, penetration of Information and Communication Technologies (ICTs) and interpenetration of varieties of globalising forces. However, notwithstanding these initiatives and changes, socioeconomic conditions and the state of life and livelihood security of peasants have not improved substantially. These have contributed towards proliferation of peasant discontents, organised movements and their sustained mobilisation in the society in one form or the other. As against these backdrops, this chapter aims to discuss the contexts of articulation of major issues and concerns in the peasant movement, the changing patterns of peasant participation in these movements and the processes of reconfiguration of peasant identities with the identities of class, ethnicity and nationality in society. This chapter indicates how public sociology could contribute in bringing out the continued process of marginalisation of peasants and the changing patterns of their participation in the collective and political mobilisations in public domain and provide space for further critical sociological engagement on peasant issues in the changing world. It shows how and why the class-based peasants’ collective mobilisations of the 1940s, 1950s, 1960s and 1970s have been reoriented towards ethnicity, nationality and culture-based mobilisations since the late 1980s and thereafter. It argues for more intervention of academia in Indian sociology with the issues of economic, social and political transition in the peasant society locating their issues within the broad processes of transition and political mobilisation in the country with an appropriate body of information. Such intervention, it could be argued, will bring the academia closer to the realities of peasants and social policies related to peasants. 173

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Peasants and peasant society in India Describing the peasants In India peasants are diversely described as intermixing with various other agrarian categories like those of farmers, cultivators and so on. Various localised vocabularies are also often used to describe these interchanging/overlapping categories. They are, however, a distinctive category that occupies the lowest social, economic and political position in an agrarian society and accommodates several subcategories of such people who are attached to land. Thus, peasants in India are socially and economically marginalised, culturally subjugated and politically disempowered social groups who are attached to land to eke out a subsistence living. They represent a vast mass of landless agricultural labourers, sharecroppers, tenants, poor artisans and small and marginal cultivators. A section of peasants also combines part-time activities of fishing, cattle raising, smithy, pottery, small shop and beekeeping activities along with agricultural activities. They seldom have the capacity to employ modern techniques of cultivation, to get access to market, good education and powerful social networks or to experience upwards mobility and get connected with political authorities and the formal institutional arrangement of the state. They traditionally occupy a subjugated position in the society. In the localised cultural term, their work participation is devalued, and they are often termed as uncivilised, rustic, primitive segments of society, indicating their de-meaningful, marginalised and inferior status. Peasants are thus widely depicted through cultural connotations to invariably represent their marginalised status in society. Furthermore, in India and especially within the broad fold of Hindu social orders, peasants are predominantly from the lower castes, represented by the Antajas and the Sudras belonging to the social categories of untouchables and others practicing unclean ascribed occupations and extramural manual activities of various sorts. They have a close social interface with the socially deprived categories of scheduled tribes, scheduled castes, other backward classes, religious minorities and women and rural poor. The age-old association between this lowest ritual status and low economic position has always provided a basis for their socioeconomic marginalisation and political disempowerment in society.

Peasants are not farmers In a rural society, peasants are a different social category than those of the farmers. The peasants are numerically vast in size. They are socially, economically and politically subjugated and dominated. On the other hand, while the farmers are numerically smaller in size, they occupy relatively larger sizes of land and are conventionally economically, politically and socially dominant. They employ modern technology and predominantly employ the peasants like agricultural labourers, sharecroppers and tenants for the cultivation of their land. They mostly engage themselves in the supervisory role in agriculture even though a section of them may be self-employed in agriculture. Being self-employed and an employer, they get socially a higher recognition and status in society. They primarily produce for the market. Socially, they predominantly belong to the upper and middle strata of the caste hierarchy and have a higher level of access to education, mass media and the formal power structure of the society. It is important to mention that farmers are not a homogenous category. The small and medium farmers often fall victim to economic drudgery and get downwardly mobilised to be peasants in the rural society. The downward mobility of the self-employed medium to self-employed small cultivators, self-employed cultivators to tenants or sharecroppers, sharecroppers to semi-landless or landless 174

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agricultural labourers started with the introduction of the British land policy of Permanent Settlement in 1793 and continues in the present-day peasant story of India. Immediately after independence in 1947, India introduced elaborate land reform laws to put a ceiling on land holding to 10.00 hectares per family, to distribute the surplus vested lands among the landless or semi-landless people, to ensure tenurial security to sharecroppers and tenants and to increase the productivity of land. India also went for the introduction of advanced technology in agriculture, known as the Green Revolution, in some selected parts of the country. Importantly, land reforms were implemented only in some parts of the country, and the Green revolution brought spectacular agricultural development in some regions and to some sections of population of the country. India has also experienced the phenomenon of fast growth of population both in rural and urban areas. All these contributed to the continued downward mobility of the cultivators, declining land-man ratio, casualisation of the rural workforce and their migration from rural to urban areas for employment and livelihood security.

Declining land-man ratio Agrarian India experiences the scenario of declining land-man ratio in the wake of fast increases in population. In the country, per household land holding has declined from 1.78 hectares in 1961–62 to 0.73 hectares in 2002–3 and further to 0.59 hectares in 2012–13. So far as the per capita individual land holding is concerned, it has sharply declined from 0.48 hectares per person in 1951 to 0.12 hectares per person in 2013.

Increasing casualisation in work participation Peasants predominantly belonging to the categories of landless, semi-landless, marginal and small landowning cultivators altogether form 92% of the rural households of India. Among the landowning peasants, more than 50% of them possess land less than 0.04 hectares in size. Significantly, with the declining size of landholding conditions, there has been declining work participation among cultivators and increasing work participation among agricultural labourers and marginal workers among the peasants. A peasant-cultivator enjoys a higher economic status being the owner of the land and being self-employed, while the peasants who work as agricultural labourers sell their manual labour to earn a wage. Over the decades, the proportion of cultivators has sharply declined from 49.9% in 1951 to 31.7% in 2001 and further to 24.65% in 2011. On the other hand, work participation has increased, as agricultural labourers have increased from 19.5% in 1951 to 30% in 2011 and non-agricultural workers from 30.6% in 1951 to 45.4% in 2011. These show that a section of peasants work more as agricultural labourers than as cultivators because of the meagre size of landholding and that a large section of them is also shifting very fast towards the nonagricultural sector for employment. This shift is also accompanied by the fact that full employment is not available for large numbers of these peasants in rural areas, and a majority of them remains underemployed. This is aptly reflected in the increase in the number of marginal workers in rural India.

Increase in unemployment and marginal workers The quantum of work participation as main workers (getting more than 180 days of work in a year) has substantially declined in India, while work participation as marginal workers (getting less than 180 days of work in a year) has phenomenally increased, especially in rural areas. In 175

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1981 only 10.6% of the total workers in rural India were marginal workers; in 2001 it phenomenally increased to 26.1% and again, in 2011, it increased to 29.5%. Marginal work participation is a function of underemployment and economic and livelihood insecurity that have shaped the life stories of peasants, even in contemporary India.

Poverty and migration Though India has a fast rate of population growth, still 68% of its population lives in rural areas. Besides the problem of un/underemployment and the casualisation of the workforce, a vast majority of them lives below the poverty line and tends to migrate to urban areas. Despite several developmental measures, more than 28% of the rural population lives below the poverty line. The migration rate in India is 35%. According to the 2011 census, 22% of the rural population now migrates from rural to urban areas, and 56% from one rural area to another (Government of India 2017:7). The rural to rural migration implies migration from one rural area of the country to another rural area in search of employment. Importantly, more than 90% of these workers get employed in the unorganised sector of the economy without getting employment and social and livelihood security. In general, they neither get the legal protection for their work nor are brought to be mobilised for collective action.

Spread of ICTs and non-agricultural occupation There has been a fast spread of literacy, education and skill in rural India along with a fast spread of Information and Communication Technologies (ICTs). In rural India, with the increase in the educational infrastructure, the literacy rate has increased to above 65%. The internet penetration rate has reached 25%. Peasant societies in India, along with fast economic transition, implementation of state policies of land reforms and varieties of developmental initiatives, penetration of the forces of globalisation, spread of communication networks and road and transportation networks, adoption of new technologies and the introduction of commercial crop cultivation and so on are experiencing a fast flow of migration and occupational diversification. Now more than 45% of the rural household has got a non-agricultural occupation. Along with occupational diversification, many peasants have become part-time or seasonal milkmen, rickshaw or cart pullers, construction workers, petty shopkeepers and so on in rural areas. Many of them also now migrate seasonally to urban areas and are connected with the wider world for economic pursuits.

Transition with sustained marginality The peasant society has a legacy of persistent poverty, unemployment, traditional coercive bondage, lack of vertical mobility and choice, extortion by landowners and many leaders, subjugation by traditional structures of domination and state-sponsored development initiatives for subsistence assurance. Founded on these legacies, peasant societies in contemporary India are in a process of fast transition. This transition has brought in new scope for the peasants, and their occupational diversification and horizontal mobility have produced aspirations for a new life with dignity and livelihood security. As these aspirations are not met by conventional social and economic means, large numbers of them tend to follow the political path for the attainment of their aspirations for livelihood security with dignity. Hence, the collective mobilisations of peasants continue to play in one form or the other a significant role to reorient the identities of peasants and their association with the identities of class, caste, ethnicity and nationality in society. 176

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Peasant movements and their transformation India has a long history of peasant movements. While many of those were organised by established organisations or charismatic leaders, many have also emerged from below. They were also mobilised to take part in various protests against the oppressive feudal order and the anti-peasant measures of the British as the nationalist movement emerged and took part in the Champaran movements (1917), Kheda Satyagraha (1918) and Bardoli Satyagraha (1928) in the civil disobedience movement for India’s independence through non-violent means (Alavi 1965:242–243). Tribal peasants also participated in the tribal movement against their oppression by landowners, outsiders, government officials, money lenders and others. The prolonged colonial rule destroyed the rich heritage of village and cottage industries of India. Through the intermediary system of land tenure, they gradually displaced many small landowners from their land. The big landowners started practicing usury, taking advantage of peasants’ poverty, illiteracy and social vulnerability. They started extending loans to poor peasants at high rates of interest through land as the mortgage. Many poor peasants were unable to repay the loan in time and lost their land to these big landowners. A section of these displaced peasants was resettled on the same piece of land as sharecroppers with the condition that they would give 50% of the produce to the new landowners. Those who were unable to get settled became agricultural labourers. At the verge of departure of the British, the agrarian society of India emerged to be highly stratified and segregated, being founded on exploitative employeremployee relations. Despite natural calamities, the sharecroppers were to share 50% of their produce with the landowners. In real terms, they were left with little after giving 50% of their produce to the landlords. In undivided Bengal, they formed around 40% of the rural household in the late 1940s. The poor peasants emerged to be highly indebted on the local money lendercum-landowners, low paid, unemployed and poverty ridden. India experienced vehement protest movements just before and after the departure of the British from the Indian subcontinent. The Tebhaga movement took place in Bengal in 1946– 47, organised under the auspices of Bengal Kisan Sabha, a provincial wing of All India Kisan Sabha spearheaded by the Communists for the implementation of the demand of two-third share of agricultural produce for the sharecroppers as against the traditional one half and ‘land to the tillers.’ The peasants asserted their rights by forcefully cutting and stacking the paddy in their own courtyard against the will of the landlords, resisted the combined force of police and the landlords and unitedly fought the armed forces with traditional weapons for these demands. The movement saw the unprecedented participation of scheduled caste, tribal, backward class and women peasants. Women, in fact, came to the forefront of the struggle to resist the police and protect their family from attack from the landlords. This movement spread rapidly across Bengal. In the Khanpur village of the Dinajpur district of West Bengal, which was the epicentre of this movement, in one day 14 peasants died as a result of police fire. Though the peasants tried to develop a strong resistance against the combined force of police and landlords, it collapsed shortly in the face of strong repressive measures like killing, torture and public flogging by the police and administration on the one hand and the lack of coordination among the peasantry and the collapse of their leadership on the other (SinghaRoy 2005). The peasant movement in Telangana also took place around the same time. Through armed struggle in 1946–52, the peasantry of the Telangana region of Andhra Pradesh, engaged themselves in a prolonged struggle against the feudal land tenure system and its exploitative practices, such as land grabbing, illegal taxing, forced and bonded labour, extra-economic coercion, rack renting, indebtedness and daily humiliation. Under the leadership of the Left-dominated Andhra Maha Sabha, the peasantry took part in a guerrilla armed struggle to overthrow the nizam (the 177

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princely ruler) of Hyderabad. The organised collective action by the scheduled castes, tribes, backward classes and women peasants became the driving force behind this movement. The government of India initiated military action against the nizam in 1947 and overthrew him and merged Hyderabad with the Indian Union. The state also subsequently initiated military action against the peasant movement activists in September 1948. The Communists adopted the path of the protracted struggle. Several hundreds of peasant rebels were killed while facing the army of the nizam and that of India. However, as the nizam was overthrown by the Indian Army in 1951, the politburo of the Communist Party of India called off the struggle and opted for parliamentary democracy to espouse the cause of the peasantry (Dhanagare 1983; SinghaRoy 2004). Against the backdrop of the agrarian stress and the vehement peasant movement, the government of India introduced the radical land reform programme in 1952 itself. However, over the years, there appeared a huge gap between the ideas of the land reform and the implementation of the same. Most of the principles remained as part of the law book only. The peasants were individually too weak to assert their rights. The landowner, taking advantage of the loopholes of the law, easily avoided the Land Ceiling Act in connivance with land revenue officials and the other state apparatuses. Ultimately, it led to a large-scale eviction of sharecroppers from the land, rack renting, poverty, beck and call relations of poor peasants, and their sharp downward mobility in society. However, political pressure started growing from below, as peasant leaders started organising the poor peasants on their rights and entitlements. India again experienced the manifestation of radical peasant movements in late 1969 in the Naxalbari area of West Bengal when a United Left Front government came to power in West Bengal with the promise of land to the tillers and distribution of land among the poor. The peasants of Naxalbari, under the leadership of the Darjeeling District Committee of West Bengal of the Communist Party of India, started taking possession of surplus vested lands, arming themselves with conventional weapons like bows and arrows and spears, and set up a parallel administration to look after villages. They also declared a few ‘liberated areas.’ Although the state objected to such actions by initiating police actions, the movement spread like wildfire across the state and in many other parts of India and propagated the seizure of state power through guerrilla warfare within the Marxist-Leninist and Maoist ideological framework. Peasants and many urban intellectuals, as well as students from reputed educational institutions in the country, participated in this struggle. The Communist Party of India (Marxist-Leninist) was formed in 1969 to spearhead the movement across the country. However, this movement was unable to sustain itself in the face of strong state action that killed hundreds and arrested thousands on the one hand and lack of popular support for this movement on the other. This movement, however, continues to reappear in rural India through Naxalite extremism, widely known as the Maoist movement as more than a dozen of Naxalite outfits are active in contemporary India under different names, covering more than one-third of the territory of the country, mostly in remote areas (SinghaRoy 1992, 2004). These peasant movements took place in different places and at different points of time, ideologically and also in terms of orientation toward change and forms of mobilisation, were radical in nature and constructed a radical identity of the peasantry.

Institutionalisation of peasant movements Importantly, the radical peasant movements of West Bengal got leadership support from the educated middle class urban intelligentsia. The academic discourses on equality and justice and Marxian and Leninist ideology for a rapid social change through mobilisation of the peasant and workers influenced a large section of university and college teachers and students to participate 178

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in the Naxalite movement and to give the required leadership. Many public intellectuals became advocates, proponents and sympathisers of this movement. Though mass mobilisation for this movement collapsed, a large section of these intellectuals started advocating for extensive reformative initiatives for restructuring the agrarian society. These created strong public opinion to radicalise the land reform policy of the state. The central government gave directives to all state governments to bring down the land ceiling to 7.5 hectares per family, to stop eviction of sharecroppers and tenants and to provide them inheritance rights and to speedily implement the land reform laws. Many radical political forces and intellectuals advocated for participation in the democratic process of election for sharing power and for the implementation of reformative initiatives. The debates in newspapers, radio, television and public meetings strongly influenced the public opinion. Though over the decades with the spread of literacy and education, rural-urban connectivity and the arrival of an aspirational generation among the peasants, a thin layer of leadership has grown among the peasants, middle class intellectual leadership still has remained a phenomenon for the peasants. Here, public intellectuals play a significant role in articulating the peasant issues and in influencing the policy frameworks for them. Since the late 1970s, India has been experiencing the intertwining between radical and reformative peasant movements. With the Communists coming into power in the states of West Bengal, Kerala, Tripura and emerging as viable political forces during the 1970s to 1990s in the country for taking up the issues of the peasants, many radical peasant leaders shunned radicalism and joined parliamentary politics. Along with such changes, the process of institutionalisation of peasant movements has taken place in many parts of the country. Besides participating in the institutionalised collective mobilisations on the issue of speedy distribution of surplus vested land, tenurial security of sharecroppers and higher wages for agricultural labourers, the peasants are now also participating in collective mobilisation on the issues of roads, education, electricity in rural areas, protection of environment, prohibition of liquor, for reservation and reorienting the reservation policy, against displacement implementation of development initiatives and so on. They have emerged to be a driving force of democracy at the grassroots level of politics and mobilisation. In many places, they have been elected members of the Panchayati Raj (local self-government at village level). Peasant movements have acquired new dimensions in India since the late 1990s with their participation in the anti-land acquisition movements spearheaded by local agriculturalists. Those were in fact the anti-globalisation movements at the grassroots level in one form or the other.

The anti-land acquisition movement in West Bengal In 2006 the seventh United Left Front Government created the West Bengal Industrial Development Corporation, which started acquiring land for industrial development. A new car factory for Tata Motors was proposed for Singur in the Hooghly district, requiring close to 1,000 acres. As officials visited the site in May 2006, local peasants organised protests under the auspices of the Krishi JaminSurakha Samiti (Save Agricultural Land Committee). The land selected for the factory was fertile and irrigated, and the local peasants had a stable livelihood. Most of them would have had little or no benefit from the compensation that was offered to them. The Trinamool Congress Party, which was the main opposition party at the time, took a lead in organising the peasants in their struggle. The small and marginal cultivators, who were again the driving force of this movement, came to the forefront of these agitations apprehending the immediate loss of their land and livelihood. As the increased rural-urban connectivity, migration and state-sponsored development initiatives were unable to bring a substantive alteration in the life and livelihood of 179

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the peasants, their attachment to land has remained as the ultimate source of their economic and social security. They have also always remained rooted to the society, culture, history of the surroundings through their possession of land. Dispossession of land, without any immediate sustainable support, brought in them a deep sense of threat to their last source of livelihood, food security and cultural and social rootedness. As their perceived threat started getting political, collective articulation at the grass root they found in the All India Trinamool Congress, the then main opposition party in the three-decade United Left Front ruled state of West Bengal, a big potential to lead the movement. These movements got huge support from most sections of the rural population and from urban intellectuals and also from leading environmentalists. The prolonged protest involved agricultural labourers, sharecroppers and small and marginal peasants, linked with the Trinanual Congress Party, and it gained wide exposure across local, national and international media. Ms. Mamata Banerjee, president of the TMC, and other prominent opposition leaders led the dharna against Tata Motor Limited and the state policy of the Leftist ULF government. The key slogan of the TCP campaign was Ma-Mati-O-Manous, ‘Mother, Land and Humanity,’ and the campaign defined a new populist alignment between peasants and liberals against the long-standing Leftist West Bengal government. The agitation took the form of large-scale mass mobilisations and succeeded in generating a wide public and media reaction against Tata Motors. In the wake of increasing opposition, the proposed factory was relocated to Gujarat, in a state ruled by the Bharatiya Janata Party, which at the time was mainly active in Gujarat, under Shri Narendra Modi (later to become the prime minister of India). The movement against the Tata factory created a political wedge between agriculture and industry and between rural peasants and urban workers, undermining the Bengal government’s support base. Political contention over the issue was not resolved even with the departure of Tata, as they were unwilling to return the land to the state government or to the peasants. For five years the TMC under the leadership of Ms. Mamata Banerjee were able to maintain an intensive and populist campaign against Tata Motors and the ULF government, demanding the return of the land. The controversy was a key factor in the success of the TMC at the 2011 elections in West Bengal, which within a month enacted the Singur Rehabilitation and Development Act to return the land to the peasants. Again, the matter was not resolved, as the Tata Group challenged the Act in Kolkata High Court, and it was declared unconstitutional. Large sections of participants in the Singur movement were peasants, including the owner cultivators, sharecroppers both registered and unregistered, landless agricultural labourers and village artisans. The average size of land that had been acquired from unwilling farmers was .096 acres (Ghosh 2012). One account suggests that a total of 13,491 persons were affected by the acquisition. Of these, 2,689, about a fifth, were not willing to sell their land. In most of the affected villages of Singur, the marginal and small cultivators constituted around 50% of the population, and the sharecroppers and agricultural labourers constituted another 20%–25% of the population (mainly belonging to the scheduled caste category). The sharecroppers were mostly unregistered and were leasing land: the larger landowners leased out land to sharecropping tenants or employed agricultural labourers. A  section of landholders commuted to the city or migrated to other parts of the country, and many also experienced reverse migration in the wake of the economic slowdown in cities. More generally, people in the villages were aware the car factory would not provide sufficient employment for the village youth (Banerjee 2006:4719). In the process of intense grassroots mobilisation, the movement became the rallying point for anti-UF government forces, in alliance with environmentalists, human rights groups, academics 180

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and other civil society groups. Significantly, there was also passive opposition from some ULF allies, who had not openly supported the Singur movement but were not happy with the land acquisition programme and indirectly opposed it (Banerjee 2006). Agitation against Tata Motors became institutionalised when Ms. Mamata Banerjee led the TMC to power in 2011. The Leftist ULF, which had been in power for 35 years, was dislodged. Under the new government, the land was finally returned to the agriculturalists, in 2016 through an order of the Supreme Court of India.

Peasants for multiple identities Multiple identities through varieties of associations and interlinkages With increased interactivity with the outside world and expansion of non-agricultural activities in rural areas, peasants now have tied up with multiple-employee relations with varieties of employers who are devoid of traditional dependency relations on the latter. Such situations have helped construct a new identity and outlook of the peasants who look for an alliance and sustained interactivity with the wider world. The democratic practices and civil society activism at the grassroots have helped them to articulate their identities, going beyond their conventional identity as poor peasants in rural society.

Identity of agriculturalist Though the peasants’ association to land is inseparable, as it is through land that they remain linked to their culture, environment and society and get a good sense of social and livelihood security, they also want to improve their lives in the world by getting training for themselves, education for their children new technology for their land and roads and communication for their society. They also want to get associated with the exercise of power at the grassroots. Hence, they articulate new identities and get associated with new varieties of mobilisations. In Singur, in West Bengal, they took recourse to the identity of agriculturalists that was more inclusive than their class identity. It was a cultural identity used for a larger economic and political purpose.

Political/ideological identities They become part of established political parties of diverse political pursuits to demand for the implementation of development schemes for employment and generation of regular earnings, health, education, shelter, good roads and other facilities. In the process of such mobilisation, they have become exposed to the wider world through the contact of mass media, ICTs and migration and commutation to urban areas, with political leaders and a host of public intellectuals as their sympathisers. As their social, cultural, economic and political marginalisation continues, they rejuvenate their identities in diverse areas by participating in all varieties of collective mobilisations including in the mobilisations initiated in the name of caste and religion. For example, in the northern part of West Bengal alongside their political mobilisations under the auspices of political parties like the Revolutionary Socialist Party (RSP), Communist Party of India (CPI), Communist Party of India (Marxists) (CPIM), Indian National Congress, All India Trinamool Congress (TMC), Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and various other political parties for developmental and secular agenda, they are also mobilised for caste, religious and regional agendas. 181

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Similarly, in Telangana and Andhra Pradesh, grassroots mobilisation has been multidimensional. Besides the political parties in power initiating the grassroots mobilisation through institutionalised means to keep their support base intact, a large chunk of mobilisations were initiated by radical Naxalite groups, namely CPI (ML) (People’s War) (now CPI Maoist) and various other Naxalite outfits, Telegu Desam Party, National Congress, Bharatiya Janata Party, Communist Party of India, Telangana Rashtriya Samiti (TRS) and several civil society organisations. They simultaneously became peasants, civil society activists, caste and tribal group members and so on. Continuous and multi-directional grassroots mobilisations have paved the way for the articulation of multiple identities of peasants. The Left movements have played a crucial role in West Bengal, Telangana and Andhra Pradesh for inculcating a secular identity for the peasantry – that is, a class identity through collective mobilisations, for parliamentary democratic practices. In the process of participating in democratic practices, these parties have not only undergone ideological revisionism but also have made class alliances with other social groups for getting electoral advantage. As mobilisations have become multi-dimensional, and multiple actors and organisations have remained involved in these mobilisations, peasants take part in multiple mobilisations and reconstruct their multiple identities through participation in these mobilisations. The sustained mobilisations have now given birth to various local movements by rejuvenating multiple identities in the form of caste, gender, tribe, religion and region identities from among the peasantry. Through sustained mobilisation, peasants now have become part of local, regional, and national connectivity through organisation and ideology for change.

Caste and ethnic identities Till the last decade, a section of the Rajbansi peasants were mobilised in the Kantapuri movement that emphasised the need of a separate state for the Rajbansi (a scheduled caste) people. The Muslim peasants have also got associations with the activities of the Indian Muslim League while another small section of Hindu peasants with the Vishwa Hindu Parishad and BJP. Interestingly, a section of tribal peasants has got associations with the activities of Christian missionaries in the rural areas. Peasant identities now intersect with the political identities of established political parties and frequently criss-cross their association in various religious and caste organisations. Participation in multiple mobilisations by the peasant is in fact linked to their multiple marginality in society as an art of gaining immediate economic benefits on the one hand and also an art of resistance against domination and uncertainty of all forms.

Asserting citizenship identity The contemporary collective mobilisations of the peasantry have been characterised by their frequent participation in political meetings, processions, strikes, demonstrations, voting, campaigns, making legal petitions and collective persuasions and so on. Mobilisations of peasants have emerged widely to be reformative and institutionalised, organised by recognised political parties and civil society organisations for varieties of routine collective actions. In India, though some peasants have retained their association with radical Maoist movements who are covertly active in many remote and forest areas in the country, many of these peasants have also transformed their mobilisation to be reformative and institutionalised. A section has also started participating in democratic electioneering processes. In the process of such transition in general, the radical identity of peasants has taken the shape of a reformative one that is looking for changes within the institutionalised arrangement of the society as citizens. 182

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In recent years, citizenship has emerged to be a burning question for a large section of the poor peasants especially for those who are migrants, illiterates or religious minorities. The position of the peasants in relation to the National Register of Citizens (NRC), National Population Register (NPR) and Citizenship Amendment Act 2019 (CAA) have cropped up in the process of mobilisation of the peasants in the democratic process. While in peasant mobilisation by the Bharatiya Janata Party, issues of nationalism and national pride have started getting momentum, especially among Hindu peasants; sections of peasants from both Muslim and Hindu communities have also started expressing apprehensions about the National Register of Citizens and National Population Register. Peasant leaders are also organising them on these issues. The majority of them are concerned for the documents required to be produced to prove one’s citizenship in India. Significantly out of these protests, debates and discussions on peasants are now in the process of assenting their citizenship rights that speak for their right to protest, equality and justice within the constitutional framework of Indian nationalism. However, the unprecedented spread of the COVID-19 pandemic has put such mobilisation on hold.

Identity of migrants As mentioned in the first part of this chapter, many peasants migrate to urban areas because of increasing job insecurity in rural areas. According to the Report of the Centre for Monitoring Indian Economy, in 2020, rural unemployment has reached the level of 22.6%. According to the 2011 census, 453 million or 37% of the country’s population are intra- and interstate migrants. The Economic Survey (Government of India 2016) by the government of India says the migrant workforce constitutes roughly 20% of the total workforce in the country. They predominantly are engaged in the informal sector of the economy, especially in low-paying and hazardous jobs as available in the fields of construction, hotel, textile, manufacturing, transportation, domestic work and so on. In the urban society, they remain spatially concentrated in unhealthy slums and unrecognised lands, resettlement colonies and low-cost settlement areas as social and cultural ‘others,’ widely described as beldars, tapori, dehati and so on. They remain susceptible and ever exposed to the threat of scorching summer heat and deadly cold, flood and famine, ill health and disease and all epidemics and pandemics just to earn a livelihood. They seldom get integrated with the mainstream of urban life and acquire visible marginal identity through their dress, food, shelter modes of expressions. The state-sponsored sudden lockdown caused by the unprecedented spread of COVID-19 in India has exposed the vulnerability of these marginalised migrant workers in urban areas. Millions lost the immediate source of livelihood and became victims of hunger and homelessness. Notwithstanding the threat of COVID-19 infection, hundreds of thousands pushed to return back to their villages. As there was no train or bus immediately available to transport them, many started walking back or cycling to go back to their villages, out of desperation of unemployment, poverty and hunger. Many died of road accidents; some were killed by running trains while resting on railway tracks. Once ‘migrant special’ buses and trains started, many reached their villages by taking arduous journeys even without sufficient food and water. Though the government and the civil society has woken up to extend economic support, rejuvenated the rural employment guarantee scheme for migrant workers in rural areas, it stands as too little to break the barriers of the marginal identity of these migrant workers.

Response to multiple marginality The life situation of peasants is defined in terms of their marginality on the one hand and their regular survival strategy experience of resistance against domination on the other. The 183

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oppressed and marginalised peasantry tend to use the available channels of political mobilisation and activism as an immediate source of livelihood security and against domination, social exclusion, hierarchy and other varieties of denial and deprivation in society. Being a marginalised people in an interconnected world, they now articulate and take recourse to multiple marginalised identities to resist their continued denial, deprivation, domination and subordination in society. Collective protests have been an integral part of such resistance and everyday action in peasant society. However, in the process of formation of multiple protests, peasants as a social category have acquired the shape of fluidity that gets consolidated at one end and diffused at another, in the process articulating their response against their marginality. In the process, they innovate and accommodate new ideas, strategies of actions and develop new alliances with emerging social forces.

Conclusion Though public sociology is of recent origin in India, public intellectualism has remained an integral part for a section of self-conscious intelligentsia in Indian society. Either as public sociologists or public intellectuals, they have played important roles to espouse the cause of the public in a variety of ways. One section of these public intellectuals has taken up the ‘issues of the public’ especially the issues of the peasants, workers, Dalits, tribes, women, slum dwellers, street vendors, environmentalists, human right activists and so on and have engaged themselves with their collective mobilisation and in giving direction to their movements. Importantly, their participation has remained ideologically grounded and circumscribed. Another section of them regularly brings out the issues of sufferings, plights, domination, discontents and resistance of the common men, the subaltern groups, the peasants and workers and the aspects of state apathy and policy deficiency to the public domain through their powerful and informative writings. Their public writings are not only used by policy planners, civil society activists and politicians to reformulate public policies concerning marginalised people but also to sensitise people about the broad economic, social and political processes within which they have remained circumscribed. Their discourse generates awareness not only among the intelligentsia but also becomes a source of power for the common man and the public. The subaltern scholars in India, for example, have made significant contributions to show the discontents and the everyday subsistence of the peasants. These contribute to generate public awareness on the issues of the peasants and the other marginalised sections of the society. Many grassroots mobilisations and state interventions are articulated based on the sharing of information and acquiring public sympathy. This paper has tried to bring out the issues of sustained marginality of the peasants in Indian society despite institutional state intervention. It is widely recognised that India has made seminal progress in all areas of its activities since independence. Especially in areas of agriculture, it has acquired self-sufficiency through the spectacular Green Revolution. It has also initiated a plethora of schemes and programmes for rural development and employment generation. Since the 1950s, the focus of Indian planning has shifted from development with growth to development with justice in the 1970s to development with empowerment in the 1980s to development with inclusion in the 1990s and thereafter. Social human development and development with happiness for all have been policy buzzwords. India now promises to be a five trillion dollar economy by 2024. However, the agricultural growth rate has been at an all-time low with less than 4% in recent years; the contribution of agriculture to the gross domestic product (GDP) has remained restricted to 13% only. Despite such low productivity, around half the Indian work force has still remained engaged in agriculture, and most of them eke out their livelihood by working as peasants. 184

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They are still represented through the negative attributes of illiteracy, poverty, unemployment and non-sophistication and remain un/underrepresented in effective decision-making bodies. They are pushed to migrate to urban areas and trail in slum areas for getting employment in the unorganised sectors. As migrants, they survive there as the ‘unexpected others’ with all threat of natural disasters, epidemics and pandemics. Those who remain settled in the rural areas as peasants try to reconstruct their destiny through participation in the peasant movement or the collective mobilisation of all sorts. They try to create a pressure from below to make their voice heard in the wider world as peasants, tribes, Dalits and even nationalists. Public sociologists of India have a big role to play to document the struggles and plights of the peasants and to find a way out to ensure a life of dignity for this vanishing credo humanity in this unequal world.

References Alavi, Hamza. 1965. “Peasants and Revolution.” Pp. 241–277 in The Socicialist Register. A Survey of Movements & Ideas, edited by R. Miliband, and J. Saville. 2 vol. London, UK: The Merlin Press. Banerjee, P.  2006. “Land Acquisition and Peasant Resistance at Singur.” Economic and Political Weekly 41(46):4718–4720. Dhanagare, D.N. 1983. Peasant Movements in India 1920–1950. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Ghosh, B. 2012. “What Made the ‘Unwilling Farmers’ Unwilling? A Note on Singur.” Economic and Political Weekly 47(32):13–16. Government of India. 2016. Economic Survey. New Delhi: Ministry of Finance. Government of India. 2017. Report of the Working Group on Migration. New Delhi: Ministry of Housing and Urban Poverty Alleviation. SinghaRoy, D.K. 1992. Women in Peasant Movements: Tebhaga Naxalite and After. New Delhi: Manohar. Singharoy, D.K. 2004. Peasant Movements in Post Colonial India. New Delhi: Sage Publications. SinghaRoy, D.K. 2005. “Peasant Movements in Contemporary India: Some Sociological Reflections.” Economic and Political Weekly XL(52).

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15 David versus Goliath Using Herbert Gans’ model to explain how a campaign to save nine lambs became public sociology Kimberley Ducey

[W]e have the right to present what we believe the public needs to know, especially since the public has the right to ignore us. (Herbert Gans 2016:4)

Introduction Nine lambs from Antioch College’s farm are feared slaughtered despite a relentless campaign to save their lives which amassed 88,000 change.org signatures, a statement from over 100 scholars asking for the lambs’ release, television commercials, countless letters, emails, phone calls and a heartfelt request to honor the memory of Barbara Pearl’s son, Jason Seth Houten, a dedicated advocate for animals and a former Antioch College student. (Franks 2019)

In Defense of Animals (IDA), which has been fighting for animals, people and the environment through education, campaigns and rescue facilities for more than three decades, issued this statement in December 2019, two weeks after the lambs disappeared from campus. In a statement released two months earlier, IDA described Pearl’s son and her failed attempt to save the lambs: Jason cared deeply for animals, so his mother asked the school to spare the lambs’ lives as a way to honor his memory. The school responded to her plea by callously demanding a $1 million donation for the lambs, which it said would be used to fund more animal killing. It is beyond disheartening that an academic institution would publicly taunt a grieving mother. (Shuchat 2019) In January 2020, thousands of people backed IDA’s appeal to the school’s donors such as ExxonMobil Foundation and Wells Fargo Advisors to urge college president Tom Manley to make an official apology to Pearl for the blasé response to her plea and to honor her son by 186

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halting plans to procure and slaughter other animals in 2020 (IDA Staff 2020). Two months later, in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, Pearl (2020) wrote an Open Letter to Manley, which was published in The Yellow Springs News, the local paper in the village in which the Ohio college is located. It read in part: There is still an opportunity for us to honor Jason. As Antioch College has moved to online instruction, the use of the chickens and ducks on . . . campus largely becomes purposeless, and therefore their release to a farm sanctuary would be a wonderful gesture of goodwill and compassion by the college and a way for us to honor my son. The campaign to save the lambs began in May 2019 when renowned Animal Rights (AR) activist and public sociologist David Nibert, a resident of Yellow Springs and professor of sociology at nearby Wittenberg University, inadvertently stumbled upon the animals during a walk near his home. He soon discovered they were part of the college’s ‘farm-to-table dining program’ (BieryGolick 2019). For more than seven months in 2019, I worked with Nibert and other members of the Committee to Save the Antioch Lambs (henceforth referred to as the Committee) in an attempt to challenge the college’s human-centric curriculum by bringing sociology and the public together. Herbert Gans (2016:3) described three mechanisms at play when our work becomes public sociology: it must be pertinent to publics, we must embrace non-specialized vocabulary and presenters must be willing and able to propose that our work is worthy of becoming public. According to Gans, indispensable is the role ‘journalists, publishers, social media participants and other presenters’ play as gatekeepers. He (2016:7) explained: However essential the general public is to the creation of public sociology, it could not come about without the presenters. They offer sociologists the only access to the nonstudent public, and they must be considered as one of the sufficient causes of public sociology’s existence. In this chapter, I distinguish between non-local presenters (non-sociology AR activists, journalists, publishers and social media participants) and local presenters (the college president, village officials and the editor of the local paper). Local presenters served as formidable gatekeepers, blocking the Committee’s access to public spaces. They were at least somewhat successful in their fight for dominance as seen in online comments posted in reaction to news stories about our work. Remarks such as ‘[T]he issue is not about Dr. Nibert or Dr. Manley. The issue is simply this, is it O.K. to kill animals for our eating pleasure?’ and ‘[T]he lambs should be saved’ were mostly drowned out by hearsay and ridicule directed at Nibert. The following statement posted in response to a story published in The Wittenberg Torch – the student paper at Wittenberg University in Springfield, Ohio – illustrates well the pattern of public derision and malicious gossip directed at Nibert: You know David is now banned from Antioch’s campus? Not only due to him harassing students, staff and alumni and posting flyers on the buildings but his off leash dog attacked another on leash dog and the other dog and owner were injured. Also staff, students are being harassed via email and phone and now the president of the college in the past week received a death threat over David demanding Antioch . . . release the lambs. . . . This has all gone too far, all while David is [in] the middle of writing a new book. One would think he wouldn’t be putting all of this in his new book. (Kelly 2019) 187

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There were vile Facebook attacks against Nibert. He was intimidatingly surveilled by locals. A pickup truck passed his home regularly in an attempt to frighten him. There were also menacing emails, including one signed ‘Your neighbor,’ informing him that he was ‘threading on thin ice’ and ‘should stop his crusade.’ ‘I see you walk your dog through campus,’ the email read. ‘I’d be very ashamed of myself if I were you.’ Nibert was sufficiently alarmed and contacted local police (BieryGolick 2019). Despite his decades long efforts theorizing, researching and teaching about the complex relationships that exist between humans and other animals, Nibert’s expertise was ignored or contemptuously rejected by local presenters and their acolytes, while he endured ostracism, scorn, bureaucratic aggravations and suppression of his freedom of movement and speech. Antioch students lost an important opportunity to learn from this world-renowned AR scholar. Similar to Gans (1988:7), who wondered ‘what happens when working-class and poor students . . . take a course in social stratification which sees society solely from a middle-class perspective,’ I wondered what intellectual harm would befall Antioch students exposed to a singular viewpoint about the relationship between humans and other animals and to ad hominem attacks as rhetorical strategy. Rather than assessing our sociology on the basis of engagement with general theoretical questions and empirically rigorous work, college and village officials – and their supporters – attacked the characters, motives and other attributes of Committee members (especially Nibert). Genuine debate was circumvented by generating a diversion to mostly extraneous but highly charged issues. For seven months the Committee futilely tried to engage college officials about Antioch Farm’s publicly stated ‘models and practices,’ which is said to emphasize ‘a variety of sustainably focused growing methods rooted in six guiding principles’ – environmental sustainability; healthy, living soil; biodiversity; local water quality; experiential education and economic sustainability. As Nibert put it at the time: The college sidesteps the discussion on their plan to actually kill the lambs by statements about the purported sustainable nature of their program. They have not responded to critiques about the environmental harm related to raising animals in pasture. And the college has not addressed any of the ethical issues involved in their use of the lambs. (Valentine 2019) The light the Committee hoped to shed on AR in order to increase the well-being of Antiochians and the lambs would have been essentially extinguished if not for non-local presenters, like Lady Freethinker, a non-profit media organization that aims to create a compassionate world for all species; World Animal News, which reports on the latest breaking news in animal welfare from around the world; and animal advocates, influencers and social media professionals like John Oberg. It is not my intention to cast the local presenters as villains. I subscribe to the standards of public sociology that Norval Glenn described, including a distaste for ‘derision, sarcasm, namecalling, ad hominem attacks on opponents, and the use of ideologically loaded words that have a common emotional valence only among the already converted’ (2011:139). I  agree with Glenn’s statement about the need for empathy for the persons one is trying to influence, which means the public sociologist ‘will . . . communicate in clear, jargon-free language and avoid postures likely to be irritating to non-sociologists’ (2011:146). In this spirit, in late November 2019, when informed that the lambs were no longer on campus and likely headed for the

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slaughterhouse, with panic in my heart, I emailed Manley to beg him to spare their lives. What follows is an excerpt from my email, to which he did not reply: I gather from public comments by your supporters . . . that you feel misunderstood and maligned, and that you feel that the college has been unfairly attacked. But you are a college that remains much respected, sir. You are the first coeducational college in the U.S. to offer the same educational opportunities to men and women. You are one of the first colleges to offer African Americans equal educational opportunities. . . . I mean no disrespect in making this request, sir, and recognize that the college leadership is predisposed against outsiders’ opinions on this matter. But I also know you are a college that is recognized as being ‘connected to the world.’ . . . I know this is a weighty request, sir. But please honor Barbara Pearl’s request and release the nine lambs to a waiting sanctuary as a memorial to her son Jason. There is time to sit down afterwards to talk about our differences when it comes to non-human animals. Despite the publication of Ben Agger’s aptly titled book Public Sociology: From Social Facts to Literary Acts in 2000, and what appears to be the first use of the term in Gans’ 1988 American Sociological Association (ASA) presidential address, mainstream discussions of public sociology have mostly taken place in the wake of Michael Burawoy’s 2004 ASA presidential address, with the public arguably eclipsed by the sociology (Agger 2000). The contributions of Gans and Agger are also often eclipsed, with public sociology regularly said to be ‘conceived by Burawoy and others’ (Hanemaayer and Schneider 2014:5; italics added). But more precisely, as Gans (2017) wrote: Burawoy used public sociology . . . in his theme . . . for the 2004 [ASA] annual meetings . . . and thanks to his analytic skills, programming talent, energy, and outreach, a social movement for public sociology has developed in the discipline. Even if the term public sociology was new in 1988, the practice was not; a number of American sociologists had written for the general public, and some of them had reached it very successfully. The list includes W.E.B. DuBois, Robert and Helen Lynd, and in the second half of the twentieth century Daniel Bell, Nathan Glazer, C. Wright Mills, Robert Nisbet, David Riesman, Alan Wolfe, and many others. I believe we can best understand how the campaign to save the Antioch lambs became public sociology through Gans’ model. Thus, following him, [f]or the purposes of this chapter, public sociology will be defined as sociological analysis (or, if you will, description, analysis, interpretation, and evaluation) that is intended, mostly in written form, to reach or actually reaches one or another audience in what is usually called the general public. . . . My discussion therefore excludes what Burawoy (2007) calls organic public sociology, which requires some very different disciplinary, organizational, and other changes in sociology. (Gans 2009:124; italics in original) In this chapter, I also grapple with the ASA’s decision not to release a statement in support of public sociology in the midst of our campaign, when Nibert was under siege from local presenters and their acolytes. I argue that the ASA is duty bound to support public sociologists,

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especially when they are mobbed, which often includes degradation rituals. Describing mobbing, sociologist Ken Westhues (2006) wrote: The . . . clever and effective strategy is to wear the target down emotionally by shunning, gossip, ridicule, bureaucratic hassles, and withholding of deserved rewards. . . . The object is to destroy the good name that is any professor’s main resource, to expose the target as not worth listening to. Public censure . . . leaves the target stigmatized for life. From having to explain himself to Wittenberg University’s provost after Manley reported him to his employer to the local police delivering a no trespass order to him on behalf of Antioch College, Nibert was relentlessly besieged. Mobbing is a serious problem. An example from McGill University serves as a warning: Because McGill University closed down its inquiry into her death, the 1994 case of Justine Sergent is especially noteworthy. She was a successful neuropsychologist there whose adversaries positioned her on the wrong side of the local research ethics board. Sergent received a formal reprimand and grieved it. The Montreal Gazette [English-language daily newspaper published in Montreal, Quebec, Canada] learned of the dispute from an anonymous letter and ran with the story. ‘McGill researcher disciplined for breaking rules,’ the headline read. The humiliation was more than Sergent could bear. She and her husband, Yves, wrote poignant letters the next day and then committed suicide. (Westhues 2006) I first reached out to the Section on Animals and Society of the ASA in the summer of 2019 for help in ending the ‘impassioned collective opprobrium’ being visited upon Nibert. He was doing good public sociology. His only transgressions: ‘[He] trusted overmuch in reason, truth, goodness, and written guarantees of academic freedom. . . . [He] missed the cue for when to shut up’ (Westhues 2006). On the village’s Open Discussion Facebook page, after he posted a video discussing the social and emotional abilities of sheep, a villager responded, ‘You have been told that every time you post things about this threats are increased to employees at Antioch. You own those threats personally by not caring about your actions increasing them. How do you sleep at night?’ It did not matter to the school’s leaders or their supporters that Nibert condemned the death threats as ‘deplorable,’ ‘disturbing,’ and ‘unacceptable’ (Hackett 2019; italics in original). That Nibert received menacing threats was also inconsequential. Officials failed to condemn such frightening intimidations, claiming they had been ‘nothing but respectful of his opinion’ and could not control how others interacted with Nibert, given that the majority of the discussion took place on Facebook and Twitter (Morona 2019). From holding him personally responsible for threats made against college personnel, reputedly by AR activists, to equating the campaign to save the lambs with white supremacy – college and village officials were intent on vilifying Nibert and the campaign he launched. They especially directed their counter-campaign to two publics: students and villagers. Both were crucial to our campaign because Manley made it clear that the lambs’ fate would be decided locally, rendering the opinions of outsiders moot. Like Gans (1988:5), ‘I have no illusions about how much we can agree on the nature of the good society or how much we can do to bring one about.’ Nevertheless, as he explained: [T]he discussion of these questions will have beneficial results for the discipline itself. The very innocence of the notion of the good society may be a useful antidote for our 190

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too frequent tendency toward excessive abstraction. Moreover, asking fundamental general questions, even the kind that cannot be answered easily or completely, forces us to address issues of widespread interest in America and is, in addition, a way of reaching out to the general public. (1988:5) Our sociology fell well within the bounds of civil participation and was in line with our role as public sociologists. Attempts by local presenters to vilify our work and deny our expertise undermined civil disagreement and discourse, but for reasons explained here, it did not prevent our sociology from becoming public. Notably, to name the proverbial elephant in this book, the current chapter continues our public sociology. Presenters disseminate ideas through books like this one (Gans 2016:6).

Beyond ‘journal science’: this is what post-speciesist public sociology looks like I have been teaching courses on public sociology at The University of Winnipeg since 2008 and before that at three other Canadian institutions. Teaching it is far easier than doing it. The emotional labor and heartache that comes with any social movement, including AR, is often too much to bear (see, for example, Gorski, Lopresti-Goodman, and Rising 2019). Corey Wrenn – a specialist in AR mobilization, vegan feminism and critical animal studies – captured the strains in a 2019 tweet. ‘The level of graphic imagery depicting horrific violence against animals is overwhelming and impossible to manage on Twitter,’ she wrote. ‘I will no longer be reading my feed, only posting.’ Wrenn’s work on post-speciesism also sheds light on the unique challenges AR activists face. As she (2016) explained: Post-speciesism obscures systems of oppression and relationships of domination. It makes human supremacy invisible. It . . . relies on the belief that we are ‘all one’ and that we all have an equal place on earth or in the ‘circle of life.’ Violence against other animals continues on to the benefit of humans, but this is no longer interpreted as a form of oppression or domination. As I show throughout this chapter, speciesist and post-speciesist statements by college and village officials and their supporters, were common. Manley, for example, told a reporter: [T]actics of anthropomorphizing, shaming, moralizing, and emotional manipulation are inadequate to the massive tasks we face on our planet today. . . . They are no substitute for practices grounded in study, experimental research, and education, just as opinions, no matter how strongly and sincerely held, are not the same as facts or evidence. They do not offer scalable approaches that will inspire freedom or change toward environmentally sustainable habits; rather they are about reifying closed-minded positions and imposing orthodoxy. (Morona 2019) Coupled with the unique challenges that come with confronting post-speciesism is the public’s aversion or indifference to sociology. Gans wrote: [O]ften [the public] react to caricatures of sociology, but the very fact that they are not motivated to go beyond caricatures is itself depressing. In effect, we play a smaller part in 191

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[U.S.] intellectual life than we should. . . . Maintaining some relationship with the American public is part of our responsibility as members of society and as recipients of its funds, public or private, whether as tuition payments, salaries, grants, or contacts. (1988:1–2) Especially vulnerable to ‘caricatures’ are sociologists working to bring our knowledge about the relationship between humans and other animals to the public.

The presenters and the standards of good public sociology Non-local presenters as popularizers The village of Yellow Springs has been described as ‘a tiny sliver of Bernie Sanders turf in the middle of Trump country.’ ‘If anyone would save the lambs it would be Antioch,’ Nibert told a reporter in August 2019 (BieryGolick 2019). Three months later, he was less hopeful, telling another journalist that the college’s position was a retreat from its earlier openness to AR, as demonstrated in 1995 when a conference accentuating the intersection of speciesism and feminism was held on campus (Hackett 2019). In the interim, the Committee launched www. savetheantiochlambs.com, and the lambs’ even had their own Twitter account (now a memorial page). Bringing our expertise to the public via media interviews, Nibert and other Committee members defended the campaign. ‘Quote supplying adds a little to the visibility of the supplier, and indirectly to the discipline,’ explained Gans (2016:3). From The Sunday Times (the largest-selling British national newspaper) to the Daily Beast (the US news and opinion website focused on politics and pop culture), entire features and hard news stories were dedicated to our campaign. Our sociology became what journalists call a ‘running event’ – it developed and was covered over a period of time, bringing much visibility to the lambs’ plight. IDA broadcast a 60-second television commercial on ABC and Fox throughout November 2019, urging the college to release the lambs to sanctuary. The commercial was produced in honor of Jason, the AR activist and Antioch College alumnus, previously mentioned. It featured his photo and four seconds of footage filmed at a United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) inspected halal slaughterhouse because the college had recently said the lambs would be killed in such a facility. Matthew Hamity, campaigns director at IDA said at the time, It is patently clear that Antioch College requires an education – our new commercial shows that slaughterhouses guarantee a terrifying and brutal death for lambs, even if they are USDA and halal-certified. Killing animals is the opposite of humane treatment. We urge Antioch College to spare the lambs. (Schilling 2019) How non-local presenters became popularizers of our work echoes Gans’ description of how sociology becomes public: Individual journalists who write stories about a sociological study or other work make it visible to other journalists, but for sociology to become public sociology, numbers count. . . . [I]f enough other journalists find the initial story interesting and go on to do their own reporting and stories, they arouse the suspicion that their audiences are also interested, and then the sociological work becomes a candidate to become public sociology. 192

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[W]ebsites present what journalists call long form text on subjects also studied by sociologists, and now some are offering professionally created videos that accompany or replace website text. Some sociologists already make such videos and those that attain a reasonably sized audience on YouTube and its peers may become the latest outlet for public sociology. (2016:5–6) Gans argued that the difference between intending to reach some public and actually doing so is largely contingent on ‘gatekeepers’ in the media. Non-local presenters like the IDA opened gates; hence, our message about the relationship between humans and other animals, including Antiochians and the nine lambs, reached the general public.

Local presenters as retaliatory actors To declare I  felt grave anxiety every single day during the campaign is not hyperbole. I  was alarmed by the treatment of the lambs and Nibert. Resulting from retaliatory actions by officialdoms dissatisfied by a movement’s aims, scholars have documented this type of anxiety as experienced by AR activists (Gorski et al. 2019:367). Retaliatory actions in our case included a July 2019 cease-and-desist order instructing Nibert and the Committee to stop distributing flyers on campus and on college-owned property. It is logical to assume that this action was intended to intimidate us (now cast as offenders), given the seriousness of the underlying charges of harassment and character defamation and libel (Investopedia 2019). The cease-and-desist order served yet another purpose. It impugned our sociology as unscholarly and rudimentary. Retaliatory actions also included an October 2019 no trespass order, which Manley had local police deliver to Nibert’s home. According to the order, if he or Committee members stepped foot on campus or college-owned property, the police would be called (Wilson 2019). While criminal trespass is a misdemeanor under Ohio’s laws, conviction can still result in jail time and/ or fines (FindLaw 2018). Again, our sociology was framed as unscholarly and rudimentary, and we were cast as offenders. Committee members wrote to Manley in Nibert’s defense. We asserted that legal actions had a chilling effect on the democratic process, free speech, the advancement of knowledge and the welcome exchange of ideas. In part, we explained: [B]y banning Nibert from . . . campus and college-owned properties. . . [the college leadership] is communicating to faculty and staff and, perhaps most importantly, to students, that Antioch College only has space for the ideas of those in power and that dissenting voices can expect to be stifled. This message means students, staff, and faculty are less likely to speak out on issues they care deeply about. Each person who does speak out is more likely to be a recipient of intimidation, bullying, and/or ad hominem harassment given the precedent being set. In turn, this precedent amplifies the perceived consequences of speaking up and thus a pattern of fear unfolds. (Ducey et al. 2019) The Committee called on Manley to encourage robust public disagreement so that the expression of contrary views is so commonplace that the potential of personal attacks for voicing them is felt less by any one individual. We urged him to consider the myriad of reactions the treatment of Nibert could have. At the very least, we pressed him to discontinue the public 193

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ridicule of Nibert and to reinstate his rights as a member of the community with full access to the college and its properties. We certainly hoped he would come to see Nibert’s actions as a reflection of someone who is deeply committed to social justice and who lives up to his responsibilities as a public sociologist and community member (Ducey et al. 2019). More than 30 years ago, Gans (1988:7) argued that our discipline was in need of capable sociologists who are willing and able to report their work so that it is relevant to other sociologists and to ‘the educated lay public.’ Nibert is certainly capable. That local presenters attempted to frame him otherwise is a travesty.

Nine standards for doing good public sociology For seven months, local presenters and their acolytes maintained that the Committee, most especially its architect Nibert, used ‘a rabid campaign to force the school to bend to the will of outsiders who aren’t even part of the Antioch community’ (Messer 2019b). Our campaign used the media and other public fora to present our sociology in a way that epitomized Glenn’s nine standards for doing good public sociology, which are very much in keeping with Gans’ vision. As Glenn explains [A] good public sociologist will [S]upport causes, social movements, and public policies that comport with his/her ultimate values by helping devise effective means for attaining movement and policy goals and by helping assess the effectiveness of the means advocated by others who strive to attain those goals. [M]ake only tentative commitments to specific means for attainment of goals, including those supported by a ‘preponderance of the evidence,’ and thus will refrain from dogmatic adherence to ‘derivative values.’ [A]void formulating positions and arguments for the purpose of gaining the approval of (sometime) political and ideological allies and should, insofar as possible, avoid letting those persons become his/her main significant others. [O]ppose extreme, irresponsible, and unwarranted claims about empirical reality made in ideological debates by both opponents and sometime allies. [R]esist all influences, both internal and external, to make causal conclusions stronger than the evidence warrants. [R]ecognize, and communicate to others, the limits of sociological knowledge, while at the same time believing in, but not exaggerating, the contribution sociology can make toward attainment of social ends. [B]e motivated primarily by the prospect of such psychic rewards as a feeling that he/she is making the world a better place rather than by anticipation of monetary rewards, career advancement, professional recognition, public acclaim, and other ‘extrinsic’ rewards. [E]mpathize with the persons he/she wishes to influence and thus will, among other things, communicate in clear, jargon-free language and avoid postures likely to be irritating to non-sociologists. [B]e mindful of how his/her participation in public debates, discussion, and activism will affect the reputation, public image, credibility, and respectability of sociology as a whole and will avoid statements and actions that will unnecessarily tarnish the image of the discipline. (2011:137–147; italics added)

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In his 1988 ASA presidential address, Gans noted that the news media increasingly seek sociological sound bites, viewpoints and research to complement its reporting. He suggested that public sociologists use the mass media to publicize sociological perspectives and research, thus moving us beyond what he called ‘sociologese.’ ‘Reaching the general public requires popularizers, sociologists and others who can turn the ideas and findings reported in our journals and books that should be of general interest into everyday English,’ he explained (1988:8). Nibert encouraged journalists to report in such a way. As noted earlier, The Wittenberg Torch, The Daily Beast and The Sunday Times ran stories on our struggle to save the lambs. But they were not alone. Media outlets based in Ohio, such as The Dayton Daily News (newspaper), the Cincinnati Enquirer (newspaper) and WHIOTV (CBS-affiliated television station) – to name but a few – covered our campaign too.

A good public sociologist will oppose unreliable claims about empirical reality made in ideological debates Antioch Farm is billed as ‘a working farm and learning laboratory.’ Situated on the campus and primarily staffed by students, it was launched in 2011 and has maintained a ‘flock’ of lambs since 2014. The farm also includes chickens and ducks. According to the school’s website, its goal is to accord students familiarity with sustainability via an alfresco laboratory. College officials are proud of the ‘student labor’ that involves ‘campus dining and recycling,’ claiming that while the typical meal in the United States travels 1,500 miles to reach a family’s table, food from Antioch Farm journeys a mere 1,500 feet (Antioch College 2019a [2020]). Fifteen hundred feet is a misleading measurement, given that the lambs are killed at an ‘Animal Welfare Approved’ slaughterhouse. Herein lies at least two problems. One, such abattoirs use many of the same killing methods that regular slaughterhouses employ. According to the USDA, employees at one such slaughterhouse shot a bison eight times in the head prior to cutting the still-conscious animal’s throat. It took an excruciating 12 minutes for the bison to succumb to its wounds (IDA Staff 2020). Two, sending the lambs off-campus excludes butchery from students’ purported ‘farm-to-table’ learning – thus suggesting that the college tacitly concedes that ‘no amount of transparency can transform killing into kindness’ (Dawes 2019). As one AR activist put it, ‘[T]he College’s “farm-to-table” program is failing its primary mission to educate students by purposefully hiding the violent slaughter process, which is essential to meat production and crucial for the students to make informed food choices’ (IDA Staff 2020). Students who publicly objected to our sociology believed we were unfairly attacking the college because we did not comprehend the bigger issue, that being Antioch’s commitment to sustainability. ‘We make paintbrushes out of the sheep’s hair. Everything is sustainable and resourceful,’ explained one student (Hackett 2019). Given that animal agriculture is a primary source of climate change, the Committee was critical of flagrant misinformation campaigns directed at students to convince them that ‘unsustainable, violent, polluting, and precarious animal agricultural initiatives’ are actually a guarantee of sustainable practice. They are a form of intersectional oppression of human and non-human animals (Wrenn 2019). From May to November 2019, as we worked tirelessly to save the lambs from the horrors of the slaughterhouse and from becoming things, like paintbrushes, we promoted plant-based farming – an agricultural initiative that is in keeping with the long-standing needs of all living beings. We advocated for ‘compassion, coexistence, and truly sustainable plant-based alternatives in agriculture’ (Wrenn 2019).

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On the condition that Manley convene a conference on the ethical and ecological issues surrounding the farm, Tofurky founder, chairman and CEO Seth Tibbott – an Antoich College alumnus – offered the school $50,000 in exchange for the lambs’ lives. College officials ignored the offer. Tibbott, whose vegan food company is based in Oregon, was interviewed by an Antioch student for the school paper, but the conversation was never published. Gans (2016:4) hypothesized that the public is more likely to be interested in what sociologists have to say if it directly impacts them, if it is connected to their welfare and daily existence and if it serves to help them understand social problems. Impact, connection and service was at the root of Tibbott’s offer and why the Committee sought his help. College officials worked hard to ensure his/our message was suppressed. In July 2019, the Committee – alongside 100 other scholars – called on the college to promote a plant-based food system and respect the lambs’ moral right to live unharmed. In an attempt to engage officials on the issues, including Antioch Farm’s previously mentioned six guiding principles, the letter noted that the exploitation of lambs and other animals as food ignores the growing body of scientific literature documenting the social, emotional and other powerful cognitive capacities of animals. From a philosophical perspective, we argued that such treatment of sentient beings cannot be ethically justified. We maintained that raising and killing animals as food is a leading cause of the climate emergency and the squandering of the earth’s remaining supplies of fresh water. We noted that while the production and distribution of local plant-based food is praiseworthy, highly problematic is the belief that local pasture-raised methods of exploiting animals is the solution to the industrialized systems of animal oppression. Even local pasture-raised animal operations generate destructive greenhouse gases, make inefficient use of farmland and misuse fresh water supplies (100 Scholars 2019). Manley did not acknowledge the 100 scholars. Local presenters at the college and on the village council (and eventually at the local newspaper) refused to consider such arguments and worked hard to censor our sociology. ‘Instantaneity,’ coupled with ad hominem attacks, was the order of the day as opposed to scrupulous consideration of competing arguments (Agger 2007:20). This is the process by which Nibert – a co-founder of the Section on Animals and Society of the ASA and a world-renowned scholar – could be so effectively silenced and rebuked. In his denunciation of our campaign, the council president of Yellow Springs, Brian Housh, likened us to the Ku Klux Klan who had descended upon Dayton, Ohio, in May 2019. The Committee was reduced to singular caricatures. We were extremists, hateful and dangerous like the American white supremacist hate group. The goal was to oversimplify (and hence discredit) our sociology. Rather than assessing our sociology on the basis of engagement with general theoretical questions and empirically rigorous work, Housh attacked the characters, motives and other attributes of Committee members. Genuine debate was circumvented by generating a diversion to a highly charged issue (white supremacy). It did not matter that among Committee members were anti-racist activists and scholars. My books, for example, include Racist America: Roots, Current Realities and Future Reparations (Routledge Press), Elite White Men Ruling: Who, What, When, Where, and How (Routledge Press) Systemic Racism Theory: Making Liberty, Justice, and Democracy Real (Paradigm Publishers), and Revealing British Systemic Racism: Meghan Markle and the Royal Family (Routlede Press).

What we also did Petitioning Farm Sanctuary  – the animal protection organization, founded in 1986 as an advocate for farmed animals  – offered to take all nine lambs with no cost to the college, as did local 196

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sanctuaries. Manley rebuffed such offers. Nibert then launched a Change.org petition. It read in part: By signing . . . you are calling on Antioch College to release these lambs to area sanctuaries, where they can be spared the horrors of the slaughterhouse and where they can live out their natural lives in peace. You also are calling on Antioch College to focus on educating students in the production of plant-based food and to stop the use and oppression of any animals. Through the petition, our message about the relationship between humans and other animals, including Antiochians and the nine lambs, spread globally. ‘We have a sanctuary farm outside of Columbus [Ohio] and are happy to welcome all the lambs to come live with us!’ wrote the first signee in 2019. ‘Let’s teach the young generation what is right! Exploitation of sentient beings is wrong!’ wrote another from Pasadena, California. A third signee from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania commented, ‘This is the 21st century. Teach students cruelty free and environmentally positive lessons. There is no need to kill animals when there are plant based options.’ A signee from New York City explained, ‘As an Antioch [alumna] I wrote to the President of Antioch last week to ask them to review . . . their practices and request an outside evaluator of their program. Heard nothing back.’ After the deaths of the lambs, another alumna wrote: I graduated from high school in 1972. Antioch at Yellow Springs was my college of choice because of its progressive values. . . . [I]n 2020, we know so much more about the needless cruelty of raising and slaughtering nonhuman animals for food. I am so disappointed in Antioch. You were once a beacon for those of us who wanted to roll up our sleeves and work for the cause of justice, especially for those who have no voice. . . . Raising lambs for slaughter is the antithesis of justice and mercy. Please be a true beacon of hope for a suffering world. Teach your students sustainable farming of vegetables. No more slaughtering of animals. It is unnecessary, unjust, and cruel. A Canadian signee remarked, ‘Non-human animals feel pain, fear, they bond, and they have language. Please stop the pretense that anything you’re doing is “sustainable.” It isn’t.’ A signee from the U.K. reasoned: By now, it should be axiomatic that raising other beings for human consumption is not only immoral – a violation of human moral principles – but also ultimately bad for personal health and the environment in general. Rather than teaching students to exploit and kill non-consenting beings, Antioch should be encouraging exploration of truly sustainable and humane ways to nourish people. A signee from Malaysia argued: God created all animals on earth. We do not have the right to abuse them, neglect them or kill them. Our responsibility is to care for them, love them, respect them, protect them, save them and pray for them. They are not to be used for our entertainment, experiment or food. Hailing from Vietnam, another signee wrote, ‘We need to save all our [sentients] across the world. . . . [T]his mass killing of our animals is abhorrent and abjectly cruel and unnecessary.’ 197

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Writing simply but poignantly, signees from Australia and Kenya, respectively, commented, ‘How disgusting after people begged [for the lambs’ lives]’ and ‘[t]he lambs also need to live.’ There were 88,000 signees before the lambs were killed, with names continually added since their deaths. In a bid to have our online petition removed, council president Housh sent a letter to Change.org, Inc. emphatically condemning Nibert and our campaign. Eight months after the petition was launched, Karen Davis penned an Open Letter to Manley, which was added as an update to the petition (Nibert 2020). The acclaimed AR activist and president of United Poultry Concerns – a non-profit organization founded in 1990 to address the treatment of domestic fowl – sent a copy to The Yellow Springs News. Despite Davis’ decades long scholarship and activism, the letter was rejected for publication by editor Megan Bachman as too ‘speculative about aspects of production at the Antioch Farm’ and ‘too far out of compliance with our policies to be easily edited’ (UPC 2020). Davis’ responsible and warranted claims about an empirical reality were censored and framed as extreme, unreliable and superfluous, just as our sociology had been framed. Throughout our campaign ‘sound empirical evidence, and the gathering of such evidence [was] hampered by making some topics off limits for discussion, research, and theoretical treatment’ (Glenn 2011:142). The editor of the local paper played a huge role in this hampering. Before Davis joined our movement, the petition was a matter of contention, as were letters Bachman received in support of our work. Bachman refused to publish letters by non-locals in favor of our campaign soon after the newspaper started receiving them. She also penned an op-ed in favor of Antioch Farm. In the interim, other local presenters and their acolytes, framed the petition as hostile and defamatory. Addressing Nibert, a local commented, ‘[W]hen you post a new video or photo of our sheep on social media or update online petitions, the College receives a new wave of harassment’ (Hackett 2019; italics added). In all likelihood, the college realized that the main effect of a petition is not persuading its target, but enlisting new people (publics) to a cause. Community organizers and activists know well that petitions can have a durable organizational legacy, even if their more immediate policy impact is negligible. Online petitions have altered judgments of leading corporations and influenced decisions on a broad range of policies and programs (Earl 2016). The act of signing a petition is correlated to increased political participation (John et al. 2013). Researchers who have specifically examined electronic petitions conclude that signing them can serve as a gateway to more substantial political involvement, including contributing, protesting and voting (Cruickshank, Smith, and Edelmann 2010). In all likelihood, college officials also realized that when signatures are gathered in cyberspace, networking opportunities are typically lost. ‘Mobilizing’ – including signing petitions, recruiting others and attending meetings  – is more likely to boost participation rates when there is a ‘relational organizational context’ (i.e., a sense of belonging or group membership). Arguably e-petitions present less opportunities for this type of mobilization (Han 2016). The disadvantage of relying solely on online petitions may help explain the impassioned attempts by the college to block our access to campus and, hence, to students and others who might have been persuaded by our sociology. Petitioning has long been part of social movements. There was antislavery petitioning in the antebellum United States. As another example, US statesman Henry Clay (1777–1852) recognized the influence petitioning could have. In 1834, he asked supporters to petition to save the Bank of the United States. This directive was in opposition to then US president Andrew Jackson (1767–1845), who wanted the bank closed. Ultimately, pro-bank petitions transformed into anti-Jackson petitions to Clay’s delight, with more than 100,000 Americans signing on (Carpenter 2017). 198

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The suppression of petitioning also has a long history. The English Parliament suppressed petitioning after the Restoration Settlement of 1660 (Carpenter 2016). In the 1830s, the US Congress passed a ‘gag rule’ in an attempt to impede antislavery petitions. Without exception, such petitions were tabled, deprived of a hearing and refused referral to a working committee. Nevertheless, per capita, between 1837 and 1839, more antislavery petitions reached the congressional floor than previously or subsequently. Eventually, newly formed antislavery chapters and parties began popping up in the very geographic locations where petitions were signed a few years earlier (Carpenter 2017). Historian Allan Tulchin (2010) has further detailed the historical use of petitioning in social movements. Protestants in 16th-century France used a type of petition to entice converts, despite the very probably that the French king would oppose such attempts. During the English Civil War, the king’s adversaries used petitions to consolidate support. Their attempts so alarmed the status quo that following the restoration of the monarchy, the English Parliament passed a law in 1662 limiting the number of signatories to 20 people. The move was intended to foil the escalation of new social movements. Unmistakably, the Committee engaged in quite an old practice, albeit now digitalized. From our perspective, the negative framing of our petition is an example of a dominant group attempting to thwart the efforts of a less powerful group. With philanthropic gifts in the millions, donors like ExxonMobil and Wells Fargo and an endowment of $7.5 million for 2018, Antioch College was Goliath to our David (U.S. News and the World Report Staff 2018).

Letter writing campaign A lengthy letter from a local acolyte of the college declared its author not only ‘concerned’ but ‘frightened’ upon learning that ‘the vast majority’ of letters to the local paper in defense of the lambs were not written by citizens of Yellow Springs. Linking our letters to potential ‘death threats,’ and an earlier incident in North Carolina, the writer explained: I thought of the articles I had read about a woman in Asheville, N.C., who ran a sustainability skills school and had a workshop slated for omnivores to humanely raise, butcher and utilize as much of a sheep as possible. The fury over offering this class eventually led to her receiving death threats. She also worried that the Committee, whom she referred to as ‘animal rights extremists,’ could enact violence like that ‘perpetrated by white supremacists’ at the Unite the Right white supremacist and neo-Nazi rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, in mid-August, 2017 (Banaszak 2019; italics added). Similar to the aforementioned denunciation of our campaign by Yellow Springs’ council president Brian Housh, this letter relied on ‘derision, sarcasm, name-calling, ad hominem attacks on opponents, and the use of ideologically loaded words that have a common emotional valence only among the already converted’ (Glenn 2011:139). On any list of tips for effective activism, one is sure to find a recommendation to write letters to the editor of local papers, given that this section of the paper is typically the most broadly read (RESET). We wished to influence the local paper to cover the debate in terms of all available evidence and viewpoints.

Phone and email campaign Similar to objections to our petition and letters, college officials accused Nibert of purposely swamping Antioch staff with phone calls and emails. The greatest chance for the lambs’ survival 199

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lay in bringing their dilemma to a larger audience and engendering demands on the college for justice and sanctuary for the animals (UPC 2020). When Nibert vowed to keep fighting in what he characterized as a ‘David vs. Goliath struggle,’ he put it best, explaining, I’m not doing anything outrageous. I’m not doing anything any organizer would do on any social-justice issue. . . . I just can’t stop as long there’s any chance of keeping those lambs from that horrific experience. I can’t give up on them. (Morona 2019) Scholars have documented the kind of profound emotional investment and sense of responsibility that Nibert was feeling and which many AR activists experience (Bryant 2006). On top of that, he faced public ridicule and criminalization, which is also common for AR activists (Hansson and Jacobsson 2014). Despite local presenters’ cries to the contrary, any basic list of tips for effective activism is sure to include information on how ‘when an elected official receives a hundred letters they take notice. When a company director gets a thousand e-mails direct to their inbox, it makes things happen’ (RESET). Part of good public sociology is to use our voices to demand change for the things we care about: to ‘support causes, social movements, and public policies that comport with [our] ultimate values’ (Glenn 2011:137).

Challenging the narrative of the outside agitator In early November 2019, I penned a letter to the director and associate director of Antioch’s Coretta Scott King Center, not only because the center’s namesake was vegan (as is Dexter Scott King, her son) but because Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. famously wrote about the perils of the outside agitator idea. I remained defiantly hopeful that the directors would serve as voices of reason and bring the opposing camps together. After all, Mrs. King – an Antioch alumna (Class of 1951) – granted her name to the center in 2005, the year before she passed away, with the understanding that it be used for experiential teaching on race, class, gender, social justice and diversity issues for students, faculty, staff and the neighboring community. Given that the center is a testament to the life and work of Mrs. King, I was hopeful that her legacy would move the directors to action, especially given Pearl’s request to release the lambs to sanctuary as a memorial to her son (Heaton 2008). ‘I am sure that you and the vast majority of current students at the college, including those who are in favor of the curriculum and farm, will agree this request should be honored,’ I wrote. I explained that I recognized that the college leadership was predisposed to outsiders but that Dr. King famously wrote, ‘I am conscious of “the interrelatedness of all communities and states.” . . . And I hold firm to the belief that we cannot “afford to live with the narrow, provincial ‘outside agitator’ idea” ’ (“Letter from Birmingham Jail” as cited in Ducey 2019a). I received no response to my letter. Two days after the lambs disappeared in late November 2019, I sent an updated version of the letter via email to Manley, the directors of the center, the dean of students, the vice president for enrollment and student success, the vice president of Academic Affairs and vice president of operations and business. This time I received an answer, but it was from [email protected]. It read, ‘The user or domain that you are sending to (or from) has a policy that prohibited the mail that you sent.’ In other words, the college blocked email messages originating from my account.

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A closer examination of the mobbing of David Nibert In October  2019, I  drafted a ‘Statement in Defense of Public Sociology’ and requested that the Section on Animals and Society present it to the association’s leadership for endorsement. Wrenn, as section chair, sent the statement to the association’s executive officer, Dr. Nancy Weinberg Kidd. I had watched for far too long as Nibert was mobbed by village leaders, college officials and their supporters. To understand mobbing is to understand what happens to the target: ‘everything they say, are, write and do will be systematically used against them.’ As a case-in-point, on Facebook, it was suggested that Nibert’s real intent was to ‘woo young college women,’ not save the lambs (BieryGolick 2019). He was derided and scorned by a litany of other accusations, including that he did not actually care about the lambs, was campaigning against Antioch Farm to sell more copies of his books, had a personal grudge against the college and is a ‘psychopath who craves attention’ (Morona 2019). When mobbers have been particularly successful, their targets have committed suicide (see the aforementioned McGill University case), have had their employment terminated or been denied tenure, resigned, taken early retirement or permanent or recurrent leave or had all their responsibilities revoked. Experts on mobbing suggest that negative communication tactics (e.g., misrepresenting facts, insinuations, hearsay, defamation, intimidation) are employed with the ultimate goal to remove the target (Seguin 2016). The cease-and-desist and no trespass orders were certainly effective forms of removal. By continually targeting Nibert, without addressing the issues, including complaining to the provost of his university about the campaign, college officials were at best negligent. Their counter-campaign was clearly intended to damage Nibert’s reputation and involved a type of ‘psycho-sociological peer pressure,’ which ultimately endowed the ringleaders to enlist a large majority of local supporters. Village residents became active mobbers, utilizing hostile actions against Nibert such as on Facebook and in letters to the editor of the village newspaper. Other locals, though they were rare, came to his defense. In a letter to The Yellow Springs News, one such person commented: I have observed over the last several weeks that statements made by Professor Nibert and others have been fiercely attacked. . . . It appears to me that, actually, there has been a great deal of negative overreaction by some of those who wish to continue eating meat. (Hackett 2019) According to political scientist Eve Seguin, ‘Negative communication frames the [mobbing] target as someone who is impossible to work with and who threatens the organization’ (2016; italics in original). Nibert, and anyone who came to his defense, were framed precisely in these terms. We were presented as threats to village values and local citizens and to the college and its students and personnel. Recall the author of a lengthy letter to the editor of The Yellow Springs News, who suggested we were capable of the kind of violence perpetrated in Charlottesville, Virginia, in August  2017 by white nationalists and far-right extremists (Banaszak 2019). Recall, too, council president of Yellow Springs, Brian Housh, who likened us to the Ku Klux Klan who had descended upon Dayton, Ohio, in May 2019. Sequin warns that such framing can be used against the target. ‘All it takes is to make a faint allusion to, and if necessary, produce alleged student victims,’ she explains. ‘The (self)-infantilization of students that plagues universities nowadays has only made this simpler.’ When posting

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updates to the school’s website, the college made references to the dangers Nibert posed to students. Such statements had the potential (if not the veracity) to damage his reputation, credibility, authority and influence. A September 6, 2019, update read, ‘The safety of our students, faculty, and staff is our chief concern. The unrelenting aggression against the College – spearheaded by Mr. David Nibert, employed at another area university – has resulted in a threat that we must take very seriously.’ Notice the toxic language that frames Nibert (i.e., ‘unrelenting aggression,’ ‘spearheaded by,’ ‘threat’). Similarly, an October  7, 2019, update purported that Nibert engaged in harassment and intimidation tactics. Here, we see an unequivocal impugning of him for death threats, ‘harassment’ and the general lack of safety experienced by the campus community. Such claims are then used to justify the no trespass order served upon him. The continued campaign led by . . . Nibert has resulted in two more very concerning death threats directed to the College President. . . . Due to the continued actions against the College which have resulted in continued harassment of our campus community, a letter was delivered to [him] on Friday, October 4, banning him from the Antioch College campus and College-owned properties, including the Glen Helen Nature Preserve. As a private institution, we have a right to control who has access to our campus and College-owned properties, especially those who, through their presence and actions, make our campus community feel unsafe. (Antioch College 2019c) Also on October 7, 2019, Housh posted a letter on the college website categorically condemning Nibert and his supporters. He sent copies to People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA), IDA, Wittenberg University and, as noted earlier, to Change.org, Inc. He publicly delivered the letter to those assembled at a council meeting. In part, he said: I strongly condemn the bullying tactics and disinformation campaign currently being conducted by Dr. David Nibert against Antioch College. . . . [His] misrepresentation of the sustainable practice at Antioch College is tantamount to harassment and intimidation, and he is also acting in contradiction to our Village Values. . . . [S]tudents are feeling unsafe. . . . Notably, [his] disinformation has led to national organizations supporting his campaign, which is adversely affecting Antioch College and taking up a significant amount of staff time. (Housch 2019) Once again, student victims were produced as evidence of Nibert’s wrongdoing; there was no chance to challenge claims of sustainable practice, while common tactics used in social movements were demonized. In his condemnation, Housh warned that an upcoming protest arranged by Nibert might include a film about ‘meat production at factory farms,’ which in no way represents the sustainable practices that Antioch College employs for its sheep, not lambs. . . . Only by ignoring such hateful activity, similar to what residents of the City of Dayton did with the white supremacist rally [in May 2019], will such bullying end. (Housh 2019: italics added) Note, here, the caveat that the animals are ‘not lambs.’ Like many supporters of the college, Housh clearly objected to the use of the term. Nevertheless, it is precise. Sheep under one year 202

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of age are lambs. College and village officials, however, preferred the euphemism ‘solar sheep.’ Welcome packages for freshmen even included a ‘solar sheep’ T-shirt (Hackett 2019). Manley was present at the October 7, 2019, council meeting. Emphasizing what he called a ‘core commitment’ to sustainability in all aspects of the school’s operations, he told the gathering that students ‘actually learn to be grateful for food and how it’s produced. Every meal prepared and served at Antioch is an education’ (Hackett 2019). Consider Seguin’s warning that ‘[m]obbing is social murder and, by definition, people cannot survive their own murder. In other words, mobbing results in an indelible social stigma’ (2016; italics in original). Next, consider that Nibert endured mobbing for months on end and continues to be targeted by the college and its acolytes to this day.

The American Sociology Association’s response to the mobbing of David Nibert Recall that in light of what I considered the mobbing of Nibert, in October 2019, I turned to the ASA for help to end it. It is here that Glenn’s standards of good public sociology prove pertinent yet again. Of the nine standards by which a public sociologist can be measured, as delineated by Glenn (2011:137–148), the initial two criteria concern competing or different values for which they might advocate. Glenn explained: If sociology is truly a ‘scientific discipline,’ as the website for the American Sociological Association states that it is, it cannot assess the relative validity of competing ultimate values, because, in an empirical sense, ultimate values are neither valid or invalid. . . . [S]ociologists may be ‘pro-choice’ or ‘pro-life,’ and which of these they are is not relevant to their sociological competence. It follows that some sociologists may employ their sociological knowledge and skills in service of the ‘pro-choice’ movement, while others may do the same for the ‘pro-life’ movement. Both are public sociologists, and the ideological camp to which they belong has nothing to do with whether they are ‘good’ or ‘bad’ public sociologists. It follows that public sociology is to be participated in by individual sociologists and not by the discipline as a whole. . . . The discipline and its organizations, such as the American Sociological Association, may try to facilitate and promote public sociology, but they cannot properly dictate to individual sociologists what the goals of their public sociology should be. (2011:137) As I have shown, Nibert experienced extreme pushback from local presenters, such that this was more than an individual attack on an individual. This was an attack on public sociology. As argued previously, whether one agrees or not with our arguments regarding the use and oppression of animals on the Antioch Farm is beside the point. Our sociology fell well within the bounds of civil participation and was in line with our roles as public sociologists. The ‘Statement in Support of Public Sociology,’ that I thus drafted read in part as follows: The American Sociology Association . . . appreciates the work of sociologists who have made contributions to advance the public understanding of the discipline, sociological research, and scholarship among the general public. A mere glimpse of recipients of the ASA’s Public Understanding of Sociology Award is a reminder of the vilification and abuse many public sociologists face. There are too many egregious examples to cite here, including racist, sexist, homophobic, ableist, and speciesist forms. The ASA considers public 203

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engagement by sociologists to be important to the health and well-being of the profession and our community. We call upon our membership to stand in solidarity with public sociologists who are subjected to unacceptable and prejudiced abuse for their community work, public engagement, contributions to policy and practices, and translation of sociological knowledge into broader publics, including via online petitions, social media platforms, op-ed essays, public forums, teach-ins, and other venues. (Ducey 2019b) In November 2019, the association’s executive officer replied, thanking Wrenn for submitting the request. ‘Our process for reviewing time-sensitive public statements involves consultation with the ASA President, Past President, President-elect, and Secretary,’ she explained, ‘and the group has decided not to endorse this statement on behalf of [the] ASA.’ To their credit, four months later, the ASA released a statement citing ‘deep concern for and solidarity with our colleagues who are suffering vicious online harassment.’ It read in part: The [ASA] encourages our members to engage in public sociology and present their work and points of view on social media and in other public fora. The ASA condemns, in the strongest possible terms, efforts intended to threaten, harass, and silence sociologists and other scholars from speaking out against racism and other forms of social inequality. The ASA is committed to actively promoting and supporting diversity, equity, and inclusion among our faculty and student populations. (ASA 2020a) I applaud the ASA executive, but note they chose not to name AR activism. This is notable, as it is logical to assume that the ‘ASA Statement Condemning Online Harassment’ was at least motivated in part by our earlier request. Owing to ASA policy that decrees that the entire association must formally adopt such letters, we were prohibited from including the Section on Animals and Society on the letter penned for Manley regarding legal actions taken against Nibert or another letter written in defense of the lambs. We henceforth lobbied sociologists to sign the letters, rephrasing them as from sociologists in the field of human-animal studies. All mentions of the ASA were expunged. In March 2020, the association’s executive officer followed up with Wrenn, explaining that the ‘group decided to release [another] statement reaffirming a commitment to scholarly freedom.’ ‘While we recognize the statement doesn’t respond directly to [your] particular situation,’ she explained, ‘Council determined that the statement is aligned with the spirit of your request and is grateful to you for bringing this to our attention.’ The statement to which she referred, read in part: ASA has a long history of supporting academic freedom, free speech, and free movement for sociologists, irrespective of the topic of their scholarship. . . . We engage in this advocacy work through a number of approaches, including public statements and strategic private communications. . . . ASA is a member and active participant in two organizations that specifically address these concerns. Scholars at Risk is an international network of institutions and individuals whose mission it is to protect scholars and promote academic freedom. ASA was a founding member of the Science and Human Rights Coalition, an initiative of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, that established a network of scientific and engineering membership organizations that recognize a role for scientists and engineers in advancing human rights. Today we reiterate our principles on the importance of 204

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scholarly freedom. Scientific progress depends on openness, transparency, and the free flow of ideas and people, and we deplore any restrictions on such activity. In addition to reiterating our principles, we encourage sociologists to engage in educational activities as teachers and scholars to create critical discussion about these issues from a sociological perspective. (ASA 2020b; italics added) I am struck by talk of ‘scientific and engineering membership organizations that recognize a role for scientists and engineers in advancing human rights,’ while the executive council does not name animal rights. This is notable because they concluded ‘that the statement is aligned with the spirit of [our] request.’ Nevertheless, I applaud the executive council for at least seven reasons. Reason 1: A  key principle in the ASA’s Code of Ethics (1999 [2008]) concerns social responsibility, making clear that sociologists have a ‘professional and scientific responsibility to the communities and societies in which [we] live and work. [We] apply and make public [our] knowledge in order to contribute to the public good’ and ‘strive to be aware of situations that may result in harm to individuals, groups or communities.’ Reason 2: With the public’s backing, conservative forces are less likely to control what we research and teach, including via cuts to funding (Gans 2016:8–9). Reason 3: More social scientists are doing research on and teaching topics that have historically been the exclusive purview of sociologists. As such, we need the public’s support more than ever as we compete for funding and students (Gans 2016:8–9). Reason 4: We should not risk inadvertently suggesting that social criticism is the exclusive purview of journalists, essayists, literary critics and philosophers. ‘Our task is sociological social criticism,’ Gans remarked in his 1988 ASA presidential address: [I]t is not for every sociologist, but it should become part of the discipline just as social policy research became a part of it . . . once we were able to move beyond the primitive conceptions of value-free sociology on which the early disapproval of social policy research was based. (7–8) Reason 5: Our discipline is best suited to comment on social and cultural transformations and forecast alternative futures: ‘no other discipline so directly takes up the question of social change’ (Agger 2007:17). Or, as Gans (1988:5) asked: ‘what is a good society and how can sociology help bring it about?’ Reason 6: The ASA’s obligation to public sociologists who come under siege is tied to its obligation to emerging scholars and activists. In the words of Agger: Young people can use sociology as a vehicle only if sociologists rethink their relationship to politics and the public sphere, using method where necessary but not allowing themselves to be used by it. A good beginning for all of us, as we confront intellectual and political quandaries, is to ask What Would Mills Do? And he might have asked What Would Marx Do? (2007:285) Reason 7: It is logical to assume that more sociologists would ‘go public’ – making our discipline more relatable and serviceable to the general public – if they felt supported by 205

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leaders of our discipline. We might even attract more funding and people to our ranks. Then, as Gans (2009:133) sardonically put it, ‘[W]e might no longer be confused with social work.’

How might Herbert Gans view our campaign to save the lambs? Merely speculative, of course; in answering how Gans might have viewed our campaign, I ponder the considerations he deemed especially important in cultivating our dealings with the general public. His underlying assumption was that the ‘lay public – general and educated’ cares more about issues like family, the economy and health. All three directly relate to the complex relationships that exist between humans and other animals. As the Section on Animals and Society of the ASA explains: [T]he current environmental crisis has produced a sudden decline in biodiversity, while global production saturates our lives with an enormous array of animal commodities, such as food, pets, medicines, clothing and entertainment. . . . Recent scholarly inquiries on the social construction of other animals demonstrate that human societies cannot be understood fully without an examination of their constitutive animal economies. It is such centrality of other animals to society that gives this topic particular intellectual merit as a subject of sociological analysis. Even in a society in which speciesism is foundational and systemic, there is room for public sociologists who are AR scholars to improve our dealings with the public. In Gans’ original imagining of public sociology, we clearly see that vegan scholarship-activism belongs. ‘[W]e should figure out how we can do more studies on significant topics of the moment,’ Gans advised (1988:6).

Conclusions The news we dreaded arrived on November 24, 2019. On an especially gloomy snowy day in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Nibert’s email reached me, informing me that the lambs were no longer on campus. As of early spring 2021, the college has refused to confirm or deny their deaths. Pearl captured her personal pain and disappointment, telling one newspaper, ‘I don’t even have a gravestone [for my son]. I’ve never found a way to honor his memory.’ The quest to save the lambs ‘sparked something inside me,’ she continued. ‘I thought it would be a wonderful way to honor Jason. . . . It’s just heartbreaking how they could ignore a mother’s plea’ (Franks 2019). I, too, remain brokenhearted. I cannot bring myself to think of the lambs’ final moments. Excruciating feelings of loss reared their ugly head when writing this chapter. As mentioned earlier, this chapter continues our public sociology because presenters disseminate ideas through books like this one (Gans 2016:6). I am thus reminded once again that teaching public sociology is far easier than doing it. Alas, Nibert will likely never write about his experiences, given that he was accused by local presenters and their acolytes of advocating for the lambs for the sole purpose of writing a book about it. In the comments section of a piece The Wittenberg Torch ran about the campaign, a commentator remarked: Nibert lives approximately 2000 feet from the solar array. . . . The sheep have been there since 2014. He goes on sabbatical in 2019 to write a book on animal rights. He claims he first 206

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became aware of the sheep in May of 2019. He is getting a lot of free publicity from online publications. Draw your own conclusion. (Kelly 2019) Like any good public sociologist  – and Nibert is the best of the best  – he is not motivated by ‘monetary awards, career advancement, professional recognition, public acclaim, and other “extrinsic” awards’; rather, he strives to make the world a better place for all living beings (Glenn 2011:144). Citing Howard Becker’s 1967 essay titled ‘Whose Side Are We On?,’ Gans called on sociologists to ‘understand whose sides we have been on, purposely or accidentally’ and to recognize ‘what matters most is not what we have done but how our work has affected others’ (1988:2; italics added). Illuminating Gans’ latter point through the words of a wonderfully wise staff member at Farm Sanctuary, I conclude. Reacting to an early draft of this chapter, she remarked: What a difficult road, seemingly for so little return. But the good fight is always the good fight, no matter what, and our view of our impact is limited. You never know who might’ve been inwardly uncomfortable with Antioch’s decisions, or how they fight on behalf of the vulnerable in the future because of this experience. I know that the weight of my silence in the past, along with my complicity, has led me to a place of activism today. But, I do realize the burden on the heart. We all keep on going in part because compassion is contagious, and sometimes miracles do happen. When they do, it’s everything to the individual who is saved.

References 100 Scholars. 2019. “Professors and Scholars Call on Antioch College to Respect the Lambs’ Moral Right to Live Unharmed and to Promote a Plant-Based Food System.” The Yellow Springs News, July 11, p. 7. Agger, Ben. 2007. Public Sociology: From Social Facts to Literary Acts. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield. American Sociology Association. 1999 [2008]. Code of Ethics and Policies and Procedures of the ASA Committee on Professional Ethics. Washington, DC: American Sociological Association. Retrieved March 23, 2020 (www.asanet.org/sites/default/files/savvy/images/asa/docs/pdf/CodeofEthics.pdf). American Sociology Association. 2020a. ASA Statement Condemning Online Harassment. Washington, DC: American Sociological Association. Retrieved March  16, 2020 (www.asanet.org/news-events/ asa-news/asa-statement-condemning-online-harassment). American Sociology Association. 2020b. Statement Reaffirming ASA’s Commitment to Scholarly Freedom. Washington, DC: American Sociological Association. Retrieved July  29, 2020 (www.asanet.org/ news-events/asa-news/statement-reaffirming-asas-commitment-scholarly-freedom). Antoich Farm. 2019a/2020. Antioch Farm. Yellow Springs, OH: Antioch College. Retrieved March 23, 2020 (https://antiochcollege.edu/campus-life/antioch-farm/). Antoich Farm. 2019b/2020. Mission and Vision. Yellow Springs, OH: Antioch College. Retrieved March 24, 2020 (https://antiochcollege.edu/about/mission-and-vision/). Antoich Farm. 2019c. Statement Regarding Antioch Farm (Updated). Yellow Springs, OH: Antioch College. Retrieved March 16, 2020 (https://antiochcollege.edu/farm-statement/). Banaszak, Amanda. 2019. “Keep Dialogue on Diet Civil.” Letter to the Editor. The Yellow Springs News, date unknown. BieryGolick, Keith. 2019. “Save the Lambs: ‘Most Hated Man in Yellow Springs’ Fights to Keep Ohio College from Killing Animals.” Cincinnati Enquirer, August 29. Bryant, Taimie L. 2006. “Trauma, Law, and Advocacy for Animals.” Journal of Animal Law and Ethics 1:63–138. 207

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Burawoy, Michael. 2007. “For Public Sociology.” Pp. 23–64 in Public Sociology: Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Profession in the Twenty-First Century, edited by Dan Clawson et  al. Berkeley: University of California Press. Carpenter, Daniel. 2016. “Recruitment by Petition: American Antislavery, French Protestantism, English Suppression.” Perspectives On Politics 14(3):700–723. doi:10.1017/S1537592716001134. Carpenter, Daniel. 2017. “Yes, Signing Those Petitions Makes a Difference – Even If They Don’t Change Trump’s Mind.” Washington Post, February 3. Committee to Save the Antioch Lambs. 2019. “Save the Antioch Lamb: Because Violence is Never Sustainable.” Retrieved March 18, 2020 (www.savetheantiochlambs.com/). Cruickshank, Peter, Colin F. Smith, and Noella Edelmann. 2010. “Signing an E-Petition As a Transition from Lurking to Participation.” Conference: Electronic Government and Electronic Participation. Retrieved March 18, 2020 (www.researchgate.net/publication/261830621_Signing_an_epetition_as_ a_transition_from_lurking_to_participation). Dawes, Fleur. 2019. Antioch College Lambs Feared Slaughtered Despite Relentless Campaign to Save their Lives. San Rafael, CA: In Defense of Animals. Retrieved March  23, 2020 (www.idausa.org/campaign/ farmed-animal/latest-news/antioch-college-lambs-feared-slaughtered-despite-relentless-campaign-tosave-their-lives/). Ducey, Kimberley. 2019a. “Letter to Director and Associate Director of the Coretta Scott King Center for Cultural and Intellectual Freedom.” Antoich College. Ducey, Kimberley. 2019b. “Statement in Support of Public Sociology.” Presented to the Animals & Society Section of the American Sociological Association for Presentation to ASA Leadership. Ducey, Kimberley, Carol L. Glasser, Janet VerPlank, and Corey Wrenn. 2019. “Letter to President Thomas Manley.” Antioch College. Earl, Jennifer. 2016. “Slacktivism for Everyone: How Keyboard Activism Is Affecting Social Movements.” Salon, December 24. FindLaw’s Legal Writers and Editors, 2018. “Ohio Criminal Trespass Laws.” Retrieved July  15, 2020 (https://statelaws.findlaw.com/ohio-law/ohio-criminal-trespass-laws.html). Franks, Sarah. 2019. “Mother Says She’s Heartbroken After Failed Effort to Save Antioch Lambs.” Danton Daily News, December 7. Gans, Herbert J. 1988. “Sociology in America: The Discipline and the Public American Sociological Association, 1988 Presidential Address.” American Sociological Review 54(1):1–16. doi:10.2307/209 5658. Gans, Herbert J. 2009. “A Sociology for Public Sociology: Some Needed Disciplinary Changes for Creating Public Sociology.” Pp. 123–134 in Handbook of Public Sociology, edited by Vincent Jeffries. New York: Rowman and Littlefield. Gans, Herbert J. 2016. “Public Sociology and Its Publics.” The American Sociologist 47:3–11. Gans, Herbert J. 2017. Sociology and Social Policy: Essays on Community, Economy, and Society. Columbia University Press. Glenn, Norval D. 2011. “Some Suggested Standards for Distinuishing between Good and Bad Public Sociology.” Pp. 135–215 in Handbook of Public Sociology, edited by Vincent Jeffires. New York: Rowman and Littlefield. Gorski, Paul, Stacy Lopresti-Goodman, and Dallas Rising. 2019. “Nobody’s Paying Me to Cry: The Causes of Activist Burnout in United States Animal Rights Activists.” Social Movement Studies 18(3):364–380. doi:10.1080/14742837.2018.1561260. Hackett, Amy. 2019. “Controversy Over Lambs Intensifies.” YSNEWS.com, October  24. Retrieved March 23, 2021 (https://ysnews.com/news/2019/10/controversy-over-lambs-intensifies). Han, Hahrie. 2016. “The Organizational Roots of Political Activism: Field Experiments on Creating a Relational Context.” American Political Science Review 110(2):296–307. Hanemaayer, Ariane and Christopher J. Schneider, eds. 2014. The Public Sociology Debate Ethics and Engagement. Vancouver, BC: UBC Press.

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Hansson, Niklas and Kerstin Jacobsson. 2014. “Learning to be Affected: Subjectivity, Sense, and Sensibility in Animal Rights Activism.” Society  & Animals 22(3):262–288. doi:10.1163/15685306-123 41327. Heaton, Lauren. 2008. “Antioch University Plans to Close Coretta Scott King Center.” The Yellow Spring News, April 17. Housh, Brian K. 2019. Statement Regarding Antioch Farm (Updated). Yellow Springs, OH: Antioch College. Retrieved March 18, 2020 (https://antiochcollege.edu/farm-statement/). In Defense of Animals Staff. 2020. ExxonMobil & Wells Fargo Urged to Seek Apology from Private Ohio College on the Birthday of a Deceased Student. San Rafael, CA: In Defense of Animals. Retrieved March 23, 2020 (www.idausa.org/campaign/farmed-animal/latest-news/exxonmobil-and-wells-fargo-urged-todemand-apology-from-private-ohio-college-on-the-birthday-of-a-deceased-student/). Investopedia Staff. 2019. “Cease and Desist.” Investopedia, May 24. John, Peter, Sarah Cotterill, Liz Richardson, Alice Moseley, Gerry Stoker, Corinne Wales, and Graham Smith. 2013. Nudge, Nudge, Think, Think: Experimenting with Ways to Change Civic Behaviour. New York, NY: Bloomsbury Academic. Kelly, Brian. 2019. “Wittenberg Professor Has Beef with Antioch College.” The Wittenberg Torch, September 11. Messer, Olivia. 2019b. “Antioch College Says You Can Save Its Condemned Sheep for $1 Million – but It’ll Just Buy More for Slaughter.” Daily Beast, September 30. Morona, Joey. 2019. “Wittenberg Professor, Antioch College Clash Over Fate of 9 Lambs.” Cleveland.com, August 23. Nibert, David. 2019. “Save the Antioch Lambs!” Change.org. Retrieved March 30, 2020. Nibert, David. 2020. “Karen Davis Calls on Antioch College to Stop Exploiting Animals.” Change.org. Retrieved March 18, 2020. Pearl, Barbara. 2020. “Honor Life with Life.” The Yellow Springs News, March 26. Schilling, Nadia. 2019. VIDEO: Our TV Commercial Aims to Save 9 Lambs from Slaughter. San Rafael, CA: In Defense of Animals. Retrieved March 23, 2020 (www.idausa.org/campaign/farmed-animal/ latest-news/video-our-tv-commercial-aims-to-save-9-lambs-from-slaughter/). Seguin, Eve. 2016. “Academic Mobbing, or How to Become Campus Tormentors.” University Affairs, September 19. Shuchat, Shimon. 2019. Ohio Residents: Urge Antioch College to Cancel Lamb Slaughter! San Rafael, CA: In Defense of Animals. Retrieved March  23, 2020 (www.idausa.org/campaign/farmed-animal/ latest-news/ohio-residents-urge-antioch-college-to-cancel-lamb-slaughter/). Tulchin, Allan, A. 2010. That Men Would Praise the Lord: The Triumph of Protestantism in Nimes, 1530–1570. Oxford: Oxford University Press. United Poultry Concerns Staff. 2020. Protest Farm Program at Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio: Your Voice Is Needed! Machipongo, VA: United Poultry Concerns. Retrieved March 23, 2020 (https://upconline.org/education/200202_protest_farm_program_at_antioch_college.html). U.S. News and the World Report Staff. 2018. “Overview of Antioch University.” U.S. News and the World Report. Retrieved March 23, 2020 (www.usnews.com/best-colleges/antioch-university-3010). Valentine, Katie. 2019. “Antioch College Wants to Slaughter 9 Lambs in the Name of ‘Education’.” Lady Freethinker, October 6. Westhues, Ken. 2006. “The Unkindly Art of Mobbing.” Academic Matters: The Journal of Higher Education:18–19, Fall. Wilson, Richard. 2019. “Save the Antioch Lambs: 84,000 Signatures Asking to Spare Lives of Lambs.” Dayton Daily News, October 25. Wrenn, Corey Lee. 2016. “What is POST-Speciesism?” Retrieved March 16, 2020 (www.coreyleewrenn. com/what-is-post-speciesism/). Wrenn, Corey Lee. 2019. “Save the Lambs! Why I  Reject Antioch College’s Lethal Lamb-Killing Classroom ‘Experiment’.” Retrieved March  23, 2020 (www.coreyleewrenn.com/save-the-lambswhy-i-reject-antioch-colleges-lethal-lamb-killing-classroom-experiment/).

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Dedication and acknowledgments Ben Agger dedicated Public Sociology: From Social Facts to Literary Acts to his two children ‘and Buddy the Cat.’ In this spirit, I dedicate this chapter to HowardZinn the Cat, Boots the Cat, Zimbardo the Cat, the nine Antioch lambs, Malcolm the Dog and Sunny the Dog. The cats are my dear companions, while the lambs were, I assume, killed in late November 2019. Malcolm and Sunny were killed on March 12, 2020, at the Animal Care Center of NYC (ACC) for the crime of being abandoned and homeless. Deep gratitude is owed to many understanding colleagues at the University of Winnipeg, especially Dr. Carlos Colorado, Dr. Jonathon Franklin, Dr. Curtis Pankratz and Dr. Catherine Taylor, who value public sociology, supported my role in the campaign to save the lambs and uplifted me when I needed it most, irrespective of their stance on veganism. Deep gratitude to the many students at the University of Winnipeg who inspired me at this difficult time, regardless of their views on veganism. I also remain grateful to the many citizens who signed petitions to save the lambs, tweeted about them and worked hard in endless other ways to save them from the horrors of the slaughterhouse. I deeply admire the non-sociologists I met on Twitter, for their brave work to end humanity’s brutality toward non-human animals. Most especially, my thanks go to Dr. David Nibert and Dr. Corey Wrenn – pillars of strength and the epitome of Herbert Gans’ public sociology.

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Section V

Students as knowledge producers

A leading producer of knowledge at universities is indeed students. Through sharing ideas in the classroom and sharing knowledge in projects/papers, students have the privilege of becoming experts on individual topics. As educators, professors are aware of the knowledge students possess and are in a unique position to utilize this knowledge for public good. In this section, four chapters examine students’ ability to shape a project and reproduce knowledge in a meaningful manner. The Chicago School of Sociology is identified as a historical example of students producing knowledge for the benefit of communities. The high number of undocumented students in present-day California is identified as a contemporary example of students producing knowledge to support their peers. As an academic discipline, public sociology benefits from the knowledge produced by students. This knowledge can and should be utilized for the benefit of the communities under study.

16 ‘First publics’ as knowledge producers Integrating students into organic public sociology Miriam Greenberg, Rebecca A. London and Steven C. McKay

Introduction While public sociology has enjoyed a resurgence and rigorous debate since Michael Burawoy’s celebrated 2004 American Sociological Association presidential address, one area that has curiously lacked attention has been what most agree is academic sociology’s ‘first public’ – undergraduate students (Burawoy 2005). Recent writings on public sociology similarly recognize students as one of multiple publics; however, it is a public often defined as distinct and separate, as in ‘our students in our classrooms’ (Hartmann 2017:14 emphasis added). So compartmentalized, students often are not included in the central debates animating discussions about the future of public sociology. This chapter demonstrates how we might organically integrate undergraduates into public sociology as knowledge producers and how such an approach can help address gaps and debates in the current conceptualization of public sociology more broadly. Specifically, we draw on a three-year research project (2015–18) on affordable housing to outline an extended model of organic public sociology we call Community Initiated Student Engaged Research, or CISER. The project, which focused on tenant experiences, involved faculty, graduate students, undergraduates and community partner organizations. In the tradition of organic public sociology, CISER employs a collaborative research process, with an explicit goal of constructing more durable and meaningful ties between the university and the surrounding community. Undergraduate students played an essential role in all aspects of the collaborative process – strengthening our community involvement and co-producing our research – in addition to being a key ‘public’ in the project. Students also benefited by extending learning beyond the classroom and connecting directly with the local community. Based on surveys of participating students, CISER had a significant effect on their academic experiences, including their learning, retention and postgraduate plans (Greenberg, London, and McKay 2020). The CISER model uniquely provides students with the opportunity to help achieve the University of California’s research and public missions and contribute to critical conversations in the surrounding local community. Undergraduates are not simply another public; they can become public sociologists as well. 213

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Multiple publics, including students Burawoy outlines ‘the multiplicities of public sociologies,’ reflecting different types of publics, ‘understood as people who are themselves involved in conversation’ (Burawoy 2005:7). All public sociology, as he defines it, entails an extra-academic audience and a break from instrumental toward more reflexive research, even while these ideal type categories often blur. Nonetheless, there are within public sociology different publics to be reached and different methods to be deployed to do so. He describes the general public as the focus of traditional public sociology, reached through new means of dissemination beyond traditional academic channels  – from websites to press interviews. He also describes a second kind of ‘organic public sociology’ that works collaboratively with ‘a visible, thick, active, local and often counterpublic’ – for example, ‘a labor movement, neighborhood associations, communities of faith, immigrant rights groups, human rights organizations’ (Burawoy 2005:7–8). He goes on to note that the ‘very existence of a vast swath of public sociology, however, does suggest there is no shortage of publics’ (Burawoy 2005:8). Other commentators have similarly pointed out the multiplicity of publics for sociologists, even as they might critique Burawoy for his strict divisions (and implicit hierarchies) among types of sociologies (Gans 2015; Hartmann 2017). While debates over Burawoy’s divisions between instrumental and reflexive knowledge and between public versus policy sociology continue to rage, one area that seems to generate a consensus from commentators – if much less analysis – is his claim that ‘students are our first public’ (Burawoy 2004:1608). In defining his optimal, organic approach, Burawoy writes: [I]n the organic approach to teaching, students are treated not as tabula rasa but as carriers of accumulated experience, brought to the surface and turned into knowledge through dialogue. . . . [T]he underlying presumption is that the teacher and taught have an organic relation, that the educator too must be educated. (Burawoy 2004:1608) In subsequent writing, Burawoy elaborates on the ‘triple dialogue’ necessary for constituting students themselves as a public: In this mode, teaching is a three-level dialogue: a first dialogue between teacher and students that takes that very pedagogical relationship as a point of departure with a view to exploring the lived experience of students, enriching it with sociological studies; a second dialogue among students in which they learn about themselves through engaging one another; and a third dialogue of students with publics beyond the university. (Burawoy 2016:391; see also Burawoy 2008) Here, Burawoy sets a clear agenda and high bar: to deeply involve students in multi-level dialogues across multiple publics as they engage with sociology. Nevertheless, Burawoy seems to confine this particular public to teaching generally, separating it, and its multiple dialogues, from the other key activity of sociologists – research. Much of the debate around Burawoy’s approach to public sociology has explicitly surrounded his division of sociological labor in terms of research methodologies, research utilities and research audiences, with students and teaching discussed separately from research methodologies and utilities and, when discussed at all, relegated to the status of audience (Burawoy 2004). We argue, however, that students can also be knowledge producers – not merely learning from public sociology, but actively contributing to it. 214

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Other sociologists have taken up the challenge of incorporating students into their models of public sociology. For example, Edna Bonacich, in a review of her own career, gives an inspiring account of her own ‘personal journey in organic public sociology’ (Bonacich 2005:105). While she outlines the myriad ways she pursued public sociology through her personal ties with and connection to community organizations, particularly labor unions, Bonacich, like Burawoy, notes that she strives to ‘put the concept of public sociology in the classroom’ (Bonacich 2005:105). But while Burawoy identifies service learning as the prototype through which students might engage in the ‘triple dialogue’ mentioned earlier, Bonacich attempts to integrate undergraduate students into conducting research. Ideally, I want the students to learn, in part, by doing – by taking some form of action in society to try to create change for the better. . . . For example, I teach a course on Research Methods in Ethnic Studies, and use it to have the class decide on a common research project that we can all work on together – one that will be of relevance to the ethnic communities of Riverside. At the end of the quarter, we compile the results of our research, try to make a presentation to the community, and make our findings available. (Bonacich 2005:113) In many ways, her approach helps foster the triple dialogue, moves learning outside the classroom and can be useful to the communities or publics that it engages with. However, much of the conceptual work for the project still happens within the classroom – she and her students decide on a public sociology project in her research methods/ethnic studies course. In this sense, while there is clear collaboration between the public sociologist and her first public (her students), there is far less active involvement of the community or ‘the thick, active counterpublic’ in shaping and defining the research problems, questions and agenda that seem central to her other organic public sociological projects. In this way, students occupy a hybrid status in public sociology because they can be both academic and extra-academic publics, but they can also be public sociologists themselves if engaged, as Bonacich has, in the knowledge production and dissemination processes. Again, students as a public are closer, yet still quite separate from other key publics. Another model of public sociological research involving students was carried out by a group at the University of Austin, Texas, focusing on social suffering (Collins, Jensen, and Auyero 2017; Auyero 2015). In this case, a professor worked with a group of 12 graduate students, approaching the research from the beginning as a collective ‘joint, horizontal making’ enterprise, involving students as co-authors and engaged in democratic decision-making. Their qualitative research, telling the deep narratives of 11 suffering Austin residents, also had an explicit political intent: ‘to intervene in the local public sphere to make visible the daily lived experience of social marginality’ (Collins et al. 2017:199). These researchers demonstrated a strong commitment to horizontal collaboration among those involved in the research, spending significant time with the research subjects themselves. Yet, in part, due to the deep ethnographic character and aims of the research, and the skills and time required to carry out the research, the project did not necessarily involve the 11 research subjects as an organic public – one that participated in the development of the research process and agenda setting. In addition, the nature of the project also meant that participation itself was somewhat limited, involving a small number of graduate students and no undergraduates or community organizations. These examples raise the question of what is the status of students in public sociology and how this status might be understood differently? Are students a public – and if so, how do they relate to other counter-publics? Are students public sociologists, and if so, are they academic, 215

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extra-academic or somewhere in between in relation to their faculty instructors and mentors? We argue that engaged public sociology offers the opportunity to break down some of these binaries between students and faculty, students and the institutions of higher education in which they are enrolled and students and communities. In considering these relations, we argue in this article for new possibilities for a public sociology in which both students and communities are organically engaged.

The CISER model – an organic approach to public research and student engagement We developed a project that embodies the CISER model, aimed at breaking down the studentfaculty, student-university, student-community binaries. The project No Place Like Home emerged from the interests and orientation of a group of researchers, students and community organizations – all based in Santa Cruz, California – that had experience in key elements of community-based ‘action research’ and student-engagement, yet had run into some of the limits of other forms of public sociology and the more formalized dyad models outlined later. The dyad concept is useful for this discussion because it embeds within the research process an understanding that the relationships necessary to conduct research – for instance, between researcher and subject, researcher and university, researcher and public – depend on positionality within these contexts (Aldred 2008). And the positionality of students, in particular, is one of the least understood aspects of these dyadic relationships. The CISER model builds on these approaches to public scholarship, dynamically linking community engagement with hands-on research and campus-community partnerships. In so doing, our model of organic public sociology brings the assets of diverse students and the expertise of committed faculty to bear on the major issues faced by communities. Not only does the model recognize multiple publics, with an emphasis on students as a public, but also integrates these publics in and through research practice. A central pillar of the CISER model is the first collaborative dyad: campus-community partnerships (see Figure 16.1). While such partnership can take many forms with different goals and degrees of collaboration, our approach draws on models of community-based participatory action research (CBPAR): [A] partnership approach that equitably involves . . . community members, organizational representatives, and researchers in all aspects of the research process. The partners contribute ‘unique strengths and shared responsibilities’ to enhance understanding . . . and to integrate the knowledge gained with action to improve . . . the well-being of community members. (Minkler et al. 2008:48–49) In this respect, CBPAR mirrors what Burawoy labeled organic public sociology in which ‘the sociologist works in close connection with a visible, thick, active, local and often counterpublic. . . . Between the organic public sociologist and a public is a dialogue, a process of mutual education’ (Burawoy 2005:7–8). Such forms of collaborative research – in which community members become active participants in identifying issues for scientists to study – are essential for increasing the public relevance and reach of sociological research. However, for all its positive elements, due to the constraints of time, personnel and resources, community-based participatory research often operates on a relatively small scale, involving only limited numbers of university researchers and members of community organization (Minkler 216

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Faculty Campus community partnerships

Research experience for undergrads

CISER Community

Student

Service learning

Figure 16.1  Community Initiated Student Engaged Research Model

et al. 2008; Collins et al. 2017). Typically, undergraduate students do not participate in such community-university research collaborations at all, or not in any substantial number. Non-participation of students in these research collaborations is unfortunate, as a second cooperative dyad – between students and community through service learning – has been shown to have myriad benefits for both parties (and, as noted earlier, is the prototype for Burawoy in advancing teaching as public sociology). Service learning – which involves individual students doing volunteer work with local schools, non-profits or community organizations – has proliferated widely across many campuses, as it can help students recognize the potential relevance of their training, helps them satisfy an expressed need to give back to their communities and society and provides communities with needed resources, assistance and expertise (O’Donnell et al. 2015). Yet, as some critics point out, individual-based service learning, divorced from research, can often follow conventional ‘charity-oriented’ models that may fail to provide an analysis of the structural roots of social problems, can reinforce social and cultural stereotypes and lack meaningful student collaboration with community members (Strand et al. 2003; Boud, Cohen, and Sampson 2014). CISER moves beyond a service-learning approach by including students as researchers working to answer questions posed by the community and, in the process, gaining valuable research experience. The final cooperative dyad CISER builds on is the relation between university-based researchers and their ‘first public’ – undergraduate students. One of the most effective ways to promote deeper learning is to facilitate closer student-educator relationships by involving students in hands-on research together with faculty (Russell, Hancock, and McCullough 2007). Successful programs such as the National Science Foundation’s Research Experience for Undergraduates have been shown to attract and retain students (particularly from underrepresented groups), increase students’ confidence and increase their motivation to pursue research careers (Lopatto 2009; Laursen et al. 2010; Castillo and Estudillo 2015). Unfortunately, most undergraduate research programs are organized as independent research experiences between individual faculty and students, done primarily in a lab setting, and do not include a public or 217

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community component (Bangera and Brownell 2014). The research itself is often experienced as separate from students’ life experiences, culture and concerns. Indeed, students – particularly, from underrepresented groups  – often express an anxiety that they have to choose between distinct cultures of home and school in order to succeed (Ovink and Veazey 2011). Thus, while involvement in faculty research remains a key goal for improving student learning, there’s a clear need to move past previous models in order to constitute students as an active public.

The CISER project: No Place Like Home The CISER approach developed from an earlier local research project on working conditions in the low-wage economy. For that project, a local legal aid organization initially approached university researchers with a recurring puzzle: they noticed a shift of workers from agriculture into low-wage services but found no reliable data on the trend and nothing on worker experiences. Together, the legal aid organization and researchers proposed conducting a joint ‘census of the invisible’ – a survey of low-wage workers as well as outreach about available services and worker rights. To reach the necessary scale, researchers organized an apprenticeship course, followed by three more field research courses to train undergraduates. In all, over 100 undergraduates participated in the study (for details, please see the project website: www.workingfordignity.org). The project helped build trust between community organizations and researchers but also raised new research puzzles regarding local poverty. The collaborative research on wages and expenses led the partnership to embark on the more ambitious No Place Like Home project, focusing on another key factor driving poverty: affordable housing. This second project extended and solidified the CISER approach.

Community initiated Our approach is ‘community initiated’ to highlight a central tenet of our practice: organic public sociology should not only be community engaged but community led. We partner with community organizations and other counter-publics, as they are in the best position to identify relevant and actionable research issues. Community organizations had come to us because they often faced a dearth of data, particularly on the vulnerable populations with whom they worked, who are hard to reach by conventional research strategies, and thus too often ignored by public policy and regulatory discussions. Our approach is to listen first and then work to collectively develop the research agenda and questions. Our community partners are also instrumental in helping train our student researchers on local conditions; in introducing students to community leaders and members; hosting data collection at their offices, service sites and community resource centers and in providing feedback throughout the process. In 2015, at the conclusion of our initial research project on low-wage work, we sat with our community partners to discuss the findings of the study as well as potential new research puzzles, issues and opportunities. One of the key findings was the difficulty caused by the high cost and low availability of adequate housing for the county’s working poor. Our partners, California Rural Legal Assistance (a statewide non-profit legal aid organization), Community Bridges (the largest nonprofit anti-poverty agency in the county) and the Community Action Board (the second largest anti-poverty umbrella group) also noted that their own low-income clients and members were similarly struggling with affordable housing. Indeed, Santa Cruz County has the seventh highest median rents in the United States and is the least affordable metropolitan area in California due to the disparity between housing costs and income: while the fair market rent of a two-bedroom apartment is $1,965 a month, the 218

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average renter wage is only $14.62 an hour (Aurand et al. 2018). Yet, despite the widespread experience of housing precarity and unaffordability, there was no systematic data on how renters were experiencing the crisis. While we as sociologists were keen to better understand the character and extent of the local housing crisis, our community partners hoped to improve their knowledge of and services to low-income community members (the vast majority of whom were renters), wanted to know what specific issues tenants in our community were concerned with and, finally, wanted to share with a range of community members and clients information about housing rights and responsibilities. Together, we agreed on collective research goals of developing a robust profile of county renters and living conditions, while also doing outreach to renters about their rights and available services. We focused on renters, as they represent 42% of county residents and 60% of city residents and are among the hardest hit by the affordable housing crisis. But there was also a key humanistic element to our collective research – namely, a focus on both understanding and documenting the experiences of housing precarity: how do renters create a sense of ‘home’ despite the housing crisis? What does it feel like to be housing insecure or extremely rent burdened? By jointly developing the research agenda and central research questions, we were able to decide on our research methods.

Student engaged Typical models of organic public sociology do not often allow for undergraduate student participation in large-scale research. In contrast, the CISER approach centrally involves undergraduate students, particularly those with relevant language skills, sociocultural backgrounds and/ or life experiences, who can help reach a vulnerable and hard-to-reach population, and thus help gather the highest quality of data. CISER also provides the opportunity for undergraduate researchers from underrepresented groups to conduct research with a cohort of their peers and in close collaboration with faculty mentors beyond the classroom. After a six-month planning period, over the course of two years, researchers taught six courses across the social sciences and humanities, linked by the theme of affordable housing, and covering theory, background literature and field research methods. Altogether, over 250 undergraduates, many of whom were native Spanish speakers, participated, with some taking multiple project-related courses linking topical content and methods. Students were also trained and involved in every aspect of the project: from background research to survey and interview collection to data management and analysis to visual documentation to website development. Student participation across all stages of the data collection was crucial in achieving scale. Overall, students helped collect 1,984 valid surveys and 80 in-depth interviews across five county neighborhoods with high concentrations of renters. Students also worked in bilingual teams, conducting approximately half of the surveys in Spanish to better connect with often difficult-to-reach populations. The 150-question survey took approximately 20–30 minutes to administer. Finally, students were able to directly disseminate ‘Know Your Rights as Renters’ information (in English and Spanish). We estimate that the students reached over 5,000 people – on their porches; in their homes; at flea markets, public plazas, laundromats, bus stops, apartment complexes, mobile home parks and everywhere they managed to recruit survey and interview participants. Through the large, cohort model of community-based data collection and analysis, students were also able to engage in the triple dialogue that constitutes them as an active public. At this phase of the research, students and faculty interacted primarily outside the classroom. Students were able to work in teams that fostered lively and spirited debates and discussion among 219

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students themselves and were given the opportunity to work directly with a variety of other, community-based publics.

Mobilizing public knowledge A central goal of both public sociology and the CISER approach is not only to create new knowledge, but to make sure it is compelling, accessible, actionable and fosters public discussion. Thus, CISER seeks to develop several levels or types of data to engage multiple publics, while creating varied modes of dissemination, including community-wide fora and online media, to reach these publics. All these modes center students alongside faculty researchers and community partners as presenters and content developers. In terms of fora, we held a series of small neighborhood and large public events to discuss research results and related housing issues, share additional resources and inform debate, and students were actively engaged in organizing and co-presenting. These included multiple bilingual tenants’ rights workshops and a ‘pathways to college’ workshops for local youth and parents, for which students were lead organizers and presenters, and three large public presentations and art exhibits, for which students played a collaborative role. Researchers, students and community partners also organized three large bilingual public research presentations and art exhibits during Affordable Housing Week in Santa Cruz County in 2016, 2017 and 2018. The events each drew crowds of 450–600 attendees, gained co-sponsorship by the City of Santa Cruz and involved over 25 community housing organizations tabling at the events. In terms of online media, a key outcome of the research that lives on and extends beyond these fora is the project website ((http://noplacelikehomeucsc.org/), which continues to make the project’s findings accessible to community members and policymakers. The site also provides compelling digital stories and images featuring county renters, provides data analysis and links to other housing studies as well as resources for local community members and tenants. Both graduate and undergraduate students were involved in the content development and design for this site; their research activities and experiences are featured in photographs and documentaries, together with those of research respondents and community partners. Overall, strong relationships between students, faculty and community partners became the basis for an ongoing campus and public discussion of renter experiences – through the project and other media (interactive website, local newspapers, radio), the targeted workshops for particular publics (student renters, our community partners and their clients/members) and the broad public fora. In turn, both the research results and their public dissemination have helped inform and shape the local public debate and discourse about affordable housing, how the crisis is experienced and how best to address it. Impact: Has the No Place Like Home Met the Imperatives of Organic Public Sociology and Students as a Public? The project led to some major impacts for our main publics – students and the public university on the one hand, and on the other, organically rooted community organizations and their membership. It also created momentum in the broader ‘civic’ public, with an effect on public policy that affects both students and communities. First, there were multiple impacts of CISER for students. The University of California Santa Cruz is a public university with approximately 17,000 undergraduate students and is designated as an Hispanic Serving Institution by the U.S. Department of Education, which means that more than a quarter of our undergraduate population identify as Latinx. The students involved in No Place Like Home, even more than the university as a whole, came from underrepresented backgrounds: the majority were women (66%), first-generation college students (57%), eligible 220

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for Educational Opportunities Programs (EOP; 57%) and Latinx (56%). Although only a handful of students were actually from the Santa Cruz community, many were from communities in California that resembled the ones studied in the project – areas highly impacted by housing and economic inequality and precarity, with large concentrations of poor and working class families, immigrant families and large populations of bilingual and monolingual Spanish speakers. This connection blurred – while not fully erasing – the boundary between what public sociologists have dubbed ‘academic’ and ‘extra-academic’ audiences. Although not evident in these statistics, we know from our mentoring of students and/or from class discussions that a large proportion were themselves living precariously and could relate with their research subjects in ways that the faculty could not. Indeed, the No Place Like Home survey indicated that 78% of UC Santa Cruz undergraduates who participated as respondents in the survey were rent burdened, 43% had suffered a forced or involuntary move and 59% had experienced at least one major housing problem or violation.1 The characteristics and backgrounds of our students – many of whom are bilingual Spanish speakers and first-generation college students – are often considered ‘deficits’ for which such students need extra help to overcome. But in our project, we turn their perceived ‘deficits’ into key assets. Language skills and cultural knowledge become central to reaching a vulnerable and hard-to-reach population and collecting higher-quality data – essentially flipping the script from a deficit to an asset paradigm. In turn, the opportunity to do research, with a cohort of their peers, and in close collaboration with faculty mentors, improves the success of underrepresented students who may struggle in higher education. As the research has shown, being involved in research and having the opportunity to give back to the community are two of the most effective ways to lower dropout rates, increase student retention and increase graduate school attendance (for further discussion, please see Greenberg et al. 2020). The CISER approach speaks to the importance of considering students as more than just a ‘public’ in the public sociology discourse. Rather than simply an audience to be taught, students are themselves owners and creators of knowledge that add to the quality of the research and the educational experience of the student. Expanding the role of students in public sociology requires the consideration of students in their dyadic relationships with their professor, the university and the community. The CISER model thus expands and deepens organic public sociology by not only recognizing multiple publics, but by strategically integrating these publics, initiating a collaborative process of knowledge production for public dialogue and the public good. Through No Place Like Home, sociology and its frameworks entered into dialogue with, and was expanded by, audiences beyond the academy, opening an analytic space in which researchers, students and community-based publics deepened their understanding of social issues. Indeed, a group of students involved in the project went on to found a new local organization, Students United with Renters, that conducted its own research and brought together student and broader community groups active on housing issues. In committing to CISER in this project, we have demonstrated the potential impacts of student engagement in community-engaged research on students’ academic and personal growth, student commitment to prioritize community work in the future and expanding public sociology by better integrating multiple publics.

Engaging the community as a public As noted earlier, the primary research questions of the No Place Like Home project were initiated by community-based organizations, and researchers and students stayed deeply connected with the organizations throughout, including having organizations vet findings and help elicit 221

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community input to make sense of them. These perspectives were then integrated into our public facing website (www.noplacelikehomeucsc.org). Community groups also co-sponsored the series of events and public forums at which we shared our findings, along with student and community member testimonials, and with community members speaking in the public comment section. The project was in turn widely covered by the local press. By integrating community, students and faculty, we initiated a collaborative process of knowledge production for public dialogue and the public good. We found that this collaboration and these dialogues, as well as the research product itself, has had the most enduring impact on community-based publics. Through No Place Like Home, sociology and its frameworks entered into dialogue with, and was itself expanded by, audiences beyond the academy, opening an analytic space in which both researchers and community-based publics deepened their understanding of public issues. It engaged the particular interests of more circumscribed publics – neighborhood groups, day worker organizations, renters. And it lent itself to being action oriented, not just dialogue for dialogue’s sake (McLaughlin and London 2013). Thus, circumscribed publics, attending events at which our county-wide data was presented, entered new coalitional publics on a city- and county-wide scale. For example, project data was broken down on the website by demographic and issue – that is, levels of rent burden, forced moves, overcrowding and major problems with housing – and presented by neighborhood as well as county wide. Neighborhood-specific data in turn was used by organizations – some of them newly formed – to assess the scale and dimensions of the affordability crisis they faced (including by issue and demographic) and so to conceive of ways to counter the crisis. One of these groups was the ‘Lower Ocean Neighborhood Assembly,’ which formed in spring 2017, joined together with a broader coalition of renters citywide to call for a rent freeze in winter 2018 as well as to form an ordinance committee that researched and wrote a Santa Cruz Rent Control and Just Cause for Eviction ordinance, in consultation with our project as well as others in our region with legal expertise in this area. Students involved in the project, and more broadly, renters in town in neighborhoods covered by the research project, have also been working collaboratively with these efforts. Another way of conceiving of the action resulting from this research is in the degree to which these multiple integrated publics have changed the conversation on the housing affordability issue among policymakers, planners and decision-makers – pushing against Burawoy’s distinctions between public and policy sociology (see Hartmann 2017). Santa Cruz, a famously progressive town dubbed the ‘Leftmost City’ (Gendron and Domhoff 2009), has long had a blind spot when it comes to housing, including obstructing efforts to build new affordable housing as well as to protect renters through forms of rent and eviction control. Numerous efforts to zone for new affordable housing have been challenged and, after efforts to pass rent control were overthrown three times in the early 1980s, the issue has been considered a third rail in local politics. Indeed, people are often surprised to discover that the City of Santa Cruz is 60% renter, given the political power of homeowners and the degree to which they have dominated local debates on these issues  – from the opinion page of the local newspaper to policy discussions of the city council (as noted earlier, the County of Santa Cruz is 42% renter). Yet, in part with the aid of No Place Like Home, the scale of the need for affordable housing, as well as the impacts of unaffordable rents on multiple publics, we’ve seen the emergence of a new ‘common sense’ on housing in Santa Cruz, as Antonio Gramsci might say (e.g., Gramsci 1971). For instance, it was surprising to many that the Santa Cruz City Council recognized this renter-focused research project with an award and co-sponsored the launching of the No Place Like Home website at the downtown Civic Auditorium, an event which was then used to kick off ‘a listening tour’ by the mayor. And at a culmination event for this tour, the language of ‘rent 222

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control,’ ‘just cause eviction’ and ‘zoning for affordability’ were raised as possibilities. Certainly, many continue to oppose these approaches and are outspoken in their opposition, often with the backing of powerful real estate lobbies. But we found that projects such as these, with local universities linking up with multiple, integrated counter-publics, can create a space in which alternatives are no longer unimaginable or unspeakable. Finally, it should be added that, by linking the community and campus, CISER has impacts on both of these – that is, on the university and its academic enterprise and on the community as a public. In terms of the former, this is particularly the case for a public university like the UC, which has an explicit mission to ‘serve society’ by ‘advancing knowledge.’ While it could be argued that advancing knowledge always has a broader impact, for public universities, doing so on behalf of the public in which these universities are based, is among the most direct forms such impact can take. Of course, the benefits of publicly engaged research for scholarship go beyond public institutions. Just as communities can benefit by having their problems analyzed through the lenses that academic researchers employ, so too integrating theory with real-life problems enhances scholars’ research (Boyer 1990). In epistemological terms, it can be fruitful, if not essential, to test and develop theory with the aid of the knowledge that people bring by their own lived experiences and interpretation of them.

Conclusion Interest in public sociology is surging, even while debates about what it is and how it should be practiced abound. Many of these debates are themselves rooted in real challenges the field faces. The incentive structure built into most research universities rewards scholarship over community engagement and theory building over applied knowledge and has difficulty seeing the link between these realms (Firestone and Fisler 2002; Jaeger and Thornton 2006; Nelson, London, and Strobel 2016). Power dynamics, ineffective communication and organizational differences can create schisms between public sociologists and their colleagues (Corrigan 2000; Miller and Shinn 2005). As Hartmann notes (2017:4), ‘Sometimes, the engaged side of our discipline, whether in its most activist forms or more modest, reform-oriented manifestations, has marginalized those who seek to make sociology a more objectivist, detached model of science.’ Meanwhile, there remain significant political, structural and practical barriers to the utility of academic research outside of academia (Davies and Nutley 2008; Weiss 1978, 1979). Some have worked to transcend these debates by engaging multiple sociological publics – including organic publics and policy publics. As we have sought to show in this paper, one area that has lacked attention has been what we see, together with Burawoy, as academic sociology’s ‘first public’ – undergraduate students (Burawoy 2005). Drawing on a multi-year local research project on the affordable housing crisis in Santa Cruz County, California, we have outlined an extended model of organic public sociology we call Community Initiated Student Engaged Research or CISER. The CISER model brings together three key groups of actors – undergraduate students, university researchers and community organizations/members – drawing on and extending the powers of previous cooperative ‘dyads’ between them. Our expanded collaborative model aims to improve pedagogical and sociological practice by constituting undergraduate students as an active public while at the same time creating meaningful partnerships between university researchers and community-based organizations, transforming outcomes for organizations, universities and students in the process. Through not only recognizing and addressing these multiple publics, but integrating them with a collaborative research project, we think CISER offers an important path forward. This path includes concerns for ethical, engaged and action-oriented research that can make a real difference in people’s lives, along 223

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with appreciation of the potential of students as assets in research and of the social scientific value of collaborative knowledge production within and beyond the academy.

Note 1 Rent burden is defined as having to spend more than 30 percent of one’s household income on rent. A total of 407 students took part in the larger survey.

References Aldred, Rachel. 2008. “Ethical and Political Issues in Contemporary Research Relationships.” Sociology 42(5):887–903. Aurand, Andrew, Dan Emmanuel, Diane Yentel, Ellen Errico, Jared Gaby-Biegel, and Emma Kerr. 2018. Out of Reach 2018: The High Cost of Housing. Washington, DC: National Low Income Housing Coalition. Retrieved August 1, 2018 (http://nlihc.org/sites/default/files/oor/OOR_2018.pdf). Auyero, Javier. 2015. “The Politics of Interpersonal Violence in the Urban Periphery.” Current Anthropology 56(S11):S169–S179. Bangera, Gita and Sarah Brownell. 2014. “Course-Based Undergraduate Research Experiences Can Make Scientific Research More Inclusive.” CBE Life Sciences Education 13(4):602–606. Bonacich, Edna. 2005. “Working with the Labor Movement: A Personal Journey in Organic Public Sociology.” The American Sociologist 36(3–4):105–120. Boud, David, Ruth Cohen, and Jane Sampson, eds. 2014. Peer Learning in Higher Education: Learning from and with Each Other. London and Serling, VA: Routledge. Boyer, Ernest L. 1990. Scholarship Reconsidered: Priorities of the Professoriate. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Burawoy, Michael. 2004. “Public Sociologies: Contradictions, Dilemmas, and Possibilities.” Social Forces 82(4):1603–1618. Burawoy, Michael. 2005. “2004 American Sociological Association Presidential Address: For Public Sociology.” American Sociological Review 70(1):4–28. Burawoy, Michael. 2008. “What Might We Mean by a Pedagogy of Public Sociology?” Enhancing Learning in the Social Sciences 1(1):1–15. Burawoy, Michael. 2016. “Sociology as a Vocation.” Contemporary Sociology 45(4):379–393. Castillo, Yuleinys and Antonio Estudillo. 2015. “Undergraduate Research: An Essential Piece for Underrepresented Students’ College Success.” Perspectives on Undergraduate Research and Mentoring (PURM) 4(1):1–15. Collins, Caitlyn, Katherine Jensen, and Javier Auyero. 2017. “A Proposal for Public Sociology as Localized Intervention and Collective Enterprise: The Makings and Impact of Invisible in Austin.” Qualitative Sociology 40:191–214. Corrigan, Dean. 2000. “The Changing Role of Schools and Higher Education Institutions with Respect to Community-Based Interagency Collaboration and Interprofessional Partnerships.” Peabody Journal of Education 75(3):176–195. Davies, Huw and Sandra Nutley. 2008. Learning More about How Research-based Knowledge Gets Used: Guidance in the Development of New Empirical Research. New York, NY: William T. Grant Foundation. Firestone, William and Jennifer Fisler. 2002. “Politics, Community, and Leadership in a School-University Partnership.” Educational Administration Quarterly 38(4):449–493. Gans, Herbert. 2015. “Public Sociology and Its Publics.” The American Sociologist 47:1–9. Gendron, Richard and G. William Domhoff. 2009. The Leftmost City: Power and Progressive Politics in Santa Cruz. Boulder, CO: Westview. Gramsci, Antonio. 1971. Selections from the Prison Notebooks. London: Lawrence and Wishart. Greenberg, Miriam, Rebecca A. London, and Steve McKay. 2020. “Community-Initiated StudentEngaged Research: Expanding Undergraduate Teaching and Learning Through Public Sociology.” Teaching Sociology 48(1):13–27. 224

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Hartmann, Douglas. 2017. “Sociology and Its Publics: Reframing Engagement and Revitalizing the Field.” The Sociological Quarterly 58(1):3–18. Jaeger, Audrey and Courtney Thornton. 2006. “Neither Honor nor Compensation: Faculty and Public Service.” Educational Policy 20(2):345–366. Laursen, Sandra, Anne Hunter, Elaine Seymour, Heather Thiry, and Ginger Melton. 2010. Undergraduate Research in the Sciences: Engaging Students in Real Science. San Francisco: John Wiley & Sons. Lopatto, David. 2009. Science in Solution: The Impact of Undergraduate Research on Student Learning. Tucson, AZ: Research Corporation for Science Advancement. McLaughlin, Milbrey and Rebecca A. London. 2013. From Data to Action: A  Community Approach to Improving Youth Outcomes. Cambridge, MA: Harvard Education Press. Miller, Robin and Marybeth Shinn. 2005. “Learning from Communities: Overcoming Difficulties in Dissemination of Prevention and Promotion Efforts.” American Journal of Community Psychology 35(3–4):169–183. Minkler, Meredith, Victoria Vásquez, Mansoureh Tajik, and Dana Petersen. 2008. “Promoting Environmental Justice Through Community-based Participatory Research: The Role of Community and Partnership Capacity.” Health Education and Behavior 35(1):119–137. Nelson, Ingrid, Rebecca London, and Karen Strobel. 2016. “Reinventing the Role of the University Researcher.” Educational Researcher 44(1):17–26. O’Donnell, Ken, Judy Botelho, Jessica Brown, Gerardo González, and William Head. 2015. “Undergraduate Research and Its Impact on Student Success for Underrepresented Students.” New Directions for Higher Education 169:27–38. Ovink, Sarah and Brian Veazey. 2011. “More Than ‘Getting Us Through’: A  Case Study in Cultural Capital Enrichment of Underrepresented Minority Undergraduates.” Research in Higher Education 52(4):370–394. Russell, Sarah, Mary Hancock, and James McCullough. 2007. “Benefits of Undergraduate Research Experiences.” Science (Washington) 316(5824):548–549. Strand, Kerry, Nick Cutforth, Randy Stoecker, Sam Marullo, and Patrick Donohue. 2003. CommunityBased Research and Higher Education: Principles and Practices. San Francisco: John Wiley & Sons. Weiss, Carol. 1978. “Improving the Linkage Between Social Research and Public Policy.” Pp. 23–81 in Knowledge and Policy: The Uncertain Connection, edited by Laurence Lynn. Washington, DC: National Academy of Sciences. Weiss, Carol. 1979. “The Many Meanings of Research Utilization.” Public Administration Review 39(5):426–431.

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17 Following the Chicago school Engaging college and university students in a public sociology gentrified neighborhood program Leonard A. Steverson and Jennifer E. Melvin

Introduction College and university students have a key role to play in the production of knowledge and the dissemination of information to affected publics, such as individuals, neighborhoods and institutions affected by gentrification. Gentrification is a process in which people, often of higher socioeconomic status, move into centrally located neighborhoods, a process that often drives up property values so that many lower socioeconomic status people can no longer live there (Storper 2013). The Chicago School of Sociology provides a solid tradition on the mentorship of students to produce knowledge; this is evidenced by a cadre of protégés who produced important information on various aspects of urbanization. Horgan (2013) notes that although the concept of gentrification (as experienced today) was not a specific research subject at that time, the Chicago scholars, because of their interest not only in urban problems generally but also in transience and marginalization, would obviously have been attracted to it; he describes how one work, The Gold Coast and the Slum (1929 [1976]) by Harvey Zorbaugh, specifically examines the phenomenon that would come to be known as gentrification and sees this work as beneficial to researchers today, with some updates and modifications. Public sociology has a distinct role in the study of gentrification. The subfield’s major advocate Michael Burawoy calls for the work of sociologists to be made more available to the public (or the various ‘publics,’ or entities that can use the knowledge). Hartmann (2017) believes it is preferable to use publics in the plural form because public sociology includes as the audience both individual citizens and powerful institutions. Members of the Chicago School had ideas on publics before contemporary theorists offered their own visions. Robert E. Park, for example, conceived of publics as rational and critical groups able to come to agreeable outcomes (as opposed to non-reflecting, impulsive ‘crowds’ who have difficulty reaching a consensus) (Matthews 1977). Relatedly, John Dewey, educational philosopher connected with the Chicago School, saw publics as collectivities that organize democratically to tackle some social problem relevant to their lives and use education to achieve this end (Harney et al. 2016). Public sociology differs from professional sociology (whose public is an academic audience), policy sociology (whose audience consists of specific clients) and critical sociology (which 226

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provides a moral vision to primarily intellectual audiences) (Burawoy 2005). Herbert Gans (2015) offered a more succinct definition for its more common type: ‘any sociological writing or other product created by sociologists that obtains the attention of some of the publics that make up the general public’ (4). Public sociology, then, uses theory and research to broadcast sociological findings to a wider audience than just academics, clients or reformers; it seeks to provide information to a variety of people, groups and organizations that would benefit from this knowledge and that could influence policy. Engaging students to do this vital work can assist not only in understanding social problems but in alleviating them.

The Chicago School of Sociology The University of Chicago opened its doors in 1892 with a vision to focus on the acquisition of knowledge through theory, research and public service. The sociology department, including the scholars Albion Small, WI Thomas, Robert E. Park, Earnest Burgess, George H. Mead and Jane Addams, sought to create an academic environment by perceiving the city as a social laboratory to investigate problems brought about by urbanization. The rapid growth of Chicago resulted in many social ills that developed just below the surface, waiting to be uncovered and addressed. Albion Small, who headed the university’s sociology program from 1892 to 1924, assembled a crack team of scholars to provide the intellectual and applied knowledge of the new program. He also orchestrated the creation of an environment that promoted a close relationship between faculty and students, a relationship that at times appeared as a relationship between colleagues (Bulmer 1984). One of the faculty members Small brought to the school was Robert E. Park, whose prior experience as a journalist provided a skill set that served him well in uncovering the hidden aspects of urban life. It was stated that Park ‘brought to the study of urban life not only the compulsive curiosity of the city beat reporter, but the romantic sensibility developed among poets and novelists by a century of observing with fascinated horror the growth of industrial cities’ (Matthews 1977:121). The contributions of Park and collaborator Earnest Burgess was evident in the 1920s and 1930s when their protégés produced a large corpus of urban ethnographical research in their work on crime, poverty, gang activity, slums, drugs, immigration, prejudice and discrimination and other conditions of urbanization (see, for example, Park and Burgess 1925 [1967]). An interesting ancillary to the sociology department was Hull House, a Chicago settlement house that provided services to working class women and served as a center for urban theory and research. This program provided real world experiences that resulted in the field of social work, with Jane Addams as a co-founder and key figure. Addams’ efforts at social reform extended into assisting children and families, the poor, the elderly and immigrants and other marginalized citizens; her efforts extended further into public health, labor issues and pacifism as a response to war (Lundblad 1995). The university and Hull House worked in tandem with shared characteristics that defined the Chicago School – the use of the city as a social laboratory, the introduction of pragmatic philosophy into sociology, the human ecology framework, symbolic interactionism and the role of social reform.

The city as urban laboratory To understand the Chicago School, it is best to get an idea of the setting at that time. Chicago had grown extremely rapidly – from a small frontier town in the mid-19th century to a large city of more than a million people by the time of the founding of the university, quickly 227

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becoming the nation’s second largest city in a remarkably short period of time. The resulting problems of urbanization made the city an enticing laboratory for social science research. The new University of Chicago was a private institution, making it easy to conduct scholarly research without the constraints possessed by state universities whose primary focus was on teaching (Bulmer 1984). With a strong philanthropic support system, an emphasis on research over teaching and a significant reform philosophy, the school was set to make history. It is the contention of one scholar (Gross 2009) that Addams saw the metaphor of laboratory a bit differently; if the men of the Chicago School saw the city as a laboratory, the women of Hull House saw the need for application of scientific knowledge to directly aid the lives of citizens. The laboratory metaphor connoted scientific endeavor, while the settlement house experience reflected practical application of knowledge. The intertwining of science and practical application, however, was the backbone of the Chicago School.

Pragmatism Pragmatism is a philosophical tradition developed by CS Peirce in which reality is founded upon the practical imaginings we have of certain objects or phenomena. This philosophy can especially be seen in the thought of George Herbert Mead and John Dewey in which understandings of internal motivations can only be made through their external manifestations, which are derived from interpersonal communication and based on experience. Although some of the older members of the Chicago School of Sociology found little use for pragmatism, Park, a former student of pragmatist philosopher/psychologist William James, did, and its use in his theory building was significant, though it was more prevalent in the university’s other disciplines such as philosophy and education (Bulmer 1984). The early pragmatists observed that unlike inorganic life, organic life-forms can control, to some extent, their environment rather than simply accepting the conditions that affect them (Puddephatt 2013). In this manner, pragmatic ideas correlate with another key concept in Chicago School thought – human ecology.

The human ecology framework Informed by an approach called ‘human ecology,’ sometimes referred to as ‘urban ecology,’ the Chicago School analogizes human communities with plant and animal groups in the natural world. Both groups, it was posited, experience competition, succession and the natural function of equilibrium maintenance. They do these differently, but the forms are similar in this framework. Human ecology as a guiding principle of the school was not without its critics, and its influence would wax and wane in Chicago School thought. Presently, the term ‘human’ or ‘urban ecology’ is used in the study of environmental factors in urban or built environments than its earlier comparison to natural environments. The influence of human ecology in its earlier conceptualization, however, helped define the Chicago scholars’ study of urban life.

Ethnography Ethnography, often called the field study approach, is a type of research methodology that seeks to learn about social life by observing the everyday behavior of groups in their own environments. Ethnographies have been often used to study the unfamiliar and exotic lifestyles of groups in other parts of the world, but the Chicago School scholars delved into the social life that existed locally in the City of Chicago. 228

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The social survey method begun in England was in common use at the time the Chicago School was founded and consisted of taking in large amounts of quantitative survey data from focused locales. The survey method was less a research technique than an investigation into an area with social problems to be remedied (Bulmer 1984). Many survey endeavors were more focused on gathering data and were often performed by social workers and other social scientists interested in reforming communities. The ethnographic approach is qualitative in nature, considering the lived experiences of people and areas under study. Research at Chicago was not entirely based on ethnography, and more quantitative methods were used at different times. And certainly, some the scholars of the school favored quantitative methodologies; however, the qualitative ethnographic approach defined the general research protocol during the formative years.

Symbolic interactionism Albion Small wove the ideas of European sociologist Georg Simmel into the fabric of Chicago School theorizing, resulting in the form of symbolic interactionism that would become one of the dominant theoretical paradigms in sociology. Park was highly influenced by Simmel, as can be seen in much of his writing. Symbolic interactionism is a perspective that focuses on the micro-level interactions between people and groups and how symbols are used to communicate ideas. Society and individuals are involved in a complex interplay that results in unique cultural patterns as well as the production of self and identity within individuals. By taking this approach, which differs from the macro-level sociological perspectives of the time, Chicago School scholars studied the interactions occurring in the streets of the city.

Social reform Small created a sociology department that focused on ‘doing alongside knowing’ (Harney et al. 2016:320). Social reform was a major characteristic of the school and applied sociology programs like Hull-House was the practical counterpart to the pure sociology of the university curriculum. The Chicago School scholars were involved in what would later become public sociology in their work in promoting social justice projects, particularly those involving race, class, gender and peace through adult and extension education and community forums. The efforts of the Chicago School produced the first juvenile court system as well as other progressive programs and policies to assist immigrants, families, the poor and other groups (Deegan 2013).

Gentrification research The studies and approaches utilized by the Chicago School are still recognized as the classic ethnographic studies that set the groundwork for future research by scholars using cities as natural laboratories to study urban sociology and public spaces. The past few decades have brought about the need for revitalization in urban neighborhoods as low-income, often already marginalized residents experienced the ‘white flight’ of the middle class and the subsequent loss of city services, such as maintenance and providing access to transportation and quality education (Smith 1988). Both the structural changes in the landscape of the city and the upheaval of the marginalized neighborhoods and communities have undergone the process of gentrification. In the 21st century, much focus has turned to community-based work grounded in a conceptual framework that also includes engaging students in the process of community development, 229

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environmental justice and working in the community to change inequalities in health care, access to transportation and education, just to name a few. Community-based learning enhances students’ civic and social skills and can make a significant impact on the community. There are many types of social issues and problems that communities face; however, for purposes of this article, we will focus on gentrification of an urban neighborhood. In the case of studying gentrification, first, faculty must create strategic collaborations with the local public, including key stakeholders, and residents in the neighborhood undergoing gentrification. According to Pennel and Maher (2015), public sociology should start with faculty initiating community-based relationships with grassroots community organizations prior to involving students in the project. In the case of the gentrification of a neighborhood, these alliances enable faculty to utilize their strategic collaborations with the local public. These relationships with the community provide students the opportunity to more easily build relationships with these community organizations that are essential for uncovering the perceived needs of the neighborhood. Thus, it is first important for faculty to create long-term relationships with collaborative community agencies willing to work with college students as they learn how to assess, create and evaluate a process such as gentrification and how it intersects with poverty, race, social class, ethnicity and other social factors to exacerbate the social problems of already marginalized populations. Fortunately, there have been many technological advances in tools and resources that can be used for experiential learning and applied community work. Students of public sociology can now utilize the qualitative approaches that have their roots in the Chicago School, as well as learn new quantitative methodology designed to measure and assess the smallest geographic and spatial areas. Perhaps most importantly, both qualitative and quantitative methods can be combined for a mixed methods approach that can be used to advance our understanding of how social engagement, grassroots collaboration and interactions with community-based agencies can contribute to positive social change in neighborhoods.

Qualitative methods Using qualitative methodology, students in a public sociology class should start by first researching the history of the community and specific neighborhood(s) to better understand how the problem was created and how it can function to reinforce or reproduce specific inequalities that limit life opportunities for residents. Archival sources such as official records from the county or district, along with media sources and oral histories from longtime residents and key stakeholders, are preliminary approaches for pinpointing the historical and present challenges the neighborhood has undergone or is currently experiencing. For example, students in a public sociology class studying how a neighborhood of low-income residents has been displaced can first assess the history of the neighborhood, and in turn, their findings will help them with their research design. Through archival records students can assess trends over time in home prices and property assessments, study plans and permits from developers and look for trends in tax records and city plans. For example, if tax records show a higher increase for taxes in a neighborhood zoned for revitalization, students can further look for patterns in the percentage of tax increases compared to other parts of the city. This preliminary research will give students the valuable skills they will need to understand how to work with archival documents and government records. In addition, oral narratives are contextually rich and offer students the opportunity to interact with key stakeholders in the community. In the case of gentrification, oral narratives from longtime residents, clergy, local business owners, law enforcement and city officials are invaluable 230

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for the knowledge they impart as well as for forging relationships and building alliances with community members and organizations. Faculty should be working with or at least familiar with these agencies, since true collaboration requires trust built over time. Community-based partnerships are of importance in order to better assess the needs of the public area or neighborhood as well as to assess how past attempts to meet these needs have played out and any ongoing plans for the neighborhood. By conducting a pre-assessment of the needs of the residents, community organizations and local government, students will have the data they need to decide on the best approach to contribute to positive social change within the established culture of the neighborhood and community, as well as the larger political climate of the city. This qualitative approach to studying and bringing about change in neighborhoods where low-income residents face displacement is built on gaining the trust of both residents of the neighborhood and the relationships formed with key community organizations. As mentioned previously, students can learn about the history of these neighborhoods by reading archival data, media articles, newspaper accounts and county records (Christensen 2015). In addition, they can gather data through oral narratives from longtime residents and community stakeholders familiar with the neighborhood. These steps are a bridge to building relationships with residents and can be accompanied by forming focus groups to create dialogue through which to assess the target group’s concerns. To create a participant pool of sample subjects, students can draw on the relationships formed with community organizations. From there a snowball sample could be generated for sampling purposes. This approach can develop quite organically into individual interviews with members of the participant pool who are longtime residents of the neighborhood that is being ‘revitalized’ and may face displacement. According to Pennell and Maher (2015), this type of ‘organic’ smaller-scale research that is grounded in the local community is a way for students to work on transformative changes that they can see the impact of in the community and build on as a foundation for the larger process of social change on a state or national level.

Quantitative methods Often, quantitative methods are used for macro-level analysis of spatial and economic shifts in neighborhoods. Much like qualitative studies, analyzing the process of gentrification of a neighborhood in the community using systematic quantitative methodology would likely also start with studying the history of the neighborhood, as this is the foundation for any public sociology in the community. Students need contextual knowledge of the neighborhood and how it has changed before they become involved in the community. However, additional data can also increase students’ knowledge about the demographics of the neighborhood using secondary data analysis. For example, the Bureau of Labor Statistics provides data on demographics that include sex, age, race, ethnicity, employment, consumer spending and time use (Bureau of Labor Statistics 2013). Measurable changes over decades can capture increases or decreases in income, education and employment. Using U.S. Census data and county records on housing prices, tax records and local business growth/decline over the years can all be analyzed with statistical software to discover trends over time. In addition, students can utilize the American Community Survey (ACS), a database that replaced the long form for the U.S. Census in 2010 and is now an ongoing survey with local-level data, gathered on an ongoing basis, and therefore a current source of secondary data on housing, demographics and economics that can be viewed on a micro scale (including by neighborhood). Students can use the data to create demographic charts and graphs on the neighborhood and surrounding community and test the statistical differences using statistical software such as SPSS. In addition, there are countless fact sheets on 231

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larger economic and social trends already compiled with current ACS data that students can download. Quantitative measures provide objective data on important aspects of the neighborhood or neighborhoods in each community; however, used alone, they do not provide rich contextual data on the residents of and the dynamics within the neighborhood or community. Later in the chapter, we will discuss mixed methods, a methodology utilizing both qualitative and quantitative approaches to studying neighborhood gentrification. In addition, another widely used quantitative approach includes mapping. Using Geographic Information Systems (GIS), researchers can provide a visual representation of the data. Spatial mapping generally uses secondary publicly available data from databases provided by the U.S. Census and the American Community Survey. Maps can provide visually accessible information on indicators of gentrification such as changes in economic progress, rental markets and racial composition. One of the earliest examples of spatial analysis was conducted in 1854 in London to predict a cholera outbreak. Physician Dr. John Snow was able to map out the locations of cholera deaths and trace them geographically to the exact water pump that was contaminated. This map was created by hand and is often used as the earliest example of using geographic mapping to treat a health epidemic (Khoury and Loannidis 2014). The ability to visually illustrate the indicators of neighborhood change make GIS methods appealing, especially for analysis of trends over time that assist researchers in pinpointing when and where these changes occurred. The visual results are also fairly easy to disseminate and explain to city planners and key stakeholders in the community, who can then utilize it for future planning and to make positive social changes in poverty-stricken urban neighborhoods where there is a need for more affordable housing, better education opportunities, increased access to transportation as well as other social changes that can be made to help both residents and the larger community.

Mixed methods Using an approach that combines both quantitative and qualitative methods is generally considered a more contextually nuanced approach that gives students the chance to combine methods and choose which types of information to share with the community; for example, a spatial analysis can help policymakers better understand the neighborhoods they serve. Combining historical analysis, archival research on economic and social trends, along with spatial mapping of the neighborhood and demographic data gathered from the ACS on the neighborhood being studied, is generally a more fruitful approach, especially when studying a very small area of the community, such as a neighborhood that is in the process of being revitalized or gentrified. For example, armed with demographic and historical data, along with visual maps, students can use this data as a jumping off point to assess the needs of residents with oral narratives and fieldwork. While collaborating with a grassroots community focused on poverty (just one of the many community organizations faculty can create alliances with), students can examine the lack of transportation that may contribute to the high unemployment in the neighborhood and, in collaboration with a community-based organization, make a case to community leaders, such as the city council, for improving transportation or offering alternative transportation and more incentives for businesses to open in and near the neighborhood. This mixed methods approach provides students with the opportunity to learn a number of skills, including the importance of understanding the background and history of the neighborhood, experiential learning opportunities through working with community organizations that faculty have formed alliances with, as well as hands-on experience with the public that can lead to positive social change. Tools like spatial mapping and descriptive statistics on the neighborhood and/or community will make it possible to disseminate empirical information to urban planners or the city council. In addition, 232

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this example would be an opportunity for students to gain invaluable experience in public speaking. Community organizations where they can present their research to the community include public libraries, public town halls and other similar venues.

Needs assessments Ideally, the needs assessment occurs after students read about the history of the neighborhood or community and have determined the target population. Generally, needs assessments are a systematic way to learn about the current situation of a target population. For example, students interested in a neighborhood that appears to be beginning the process of gentrification should not simply assume they know what is best for their target population, but rather, acquire information from residents to help determine the best course of action and the root of the problem. According to research, Woods et al. (2013) found that neighborhood participants who were recruited through grassroots methods had reduced feelings of alienation and experienced increases in feelings of personal efficacy as well as strong civic engagement. This is often the first time students have an opportunity to build actual connections with residents of the neighborhood. And if they have already researched the history, assessed archival data and analyzed demographic data, their pre-assessments will be stronger and they will have a solid background of historical trends in the neighborhood and larger community. Needs assessments benefit both participants and researchers through human interactions and provide data that cannot be gathered without the input of the participants. Assessing the needs of participants and the subsequent impact of a given program can be achieved through pre- and post-test questionnaires. The instrument used can be surveys, more specifically, questionnaires that can be assessed with statistics, or methods such as focus groups and/or semi-structured interviews (Yuen, Terao, and Schmidt 2009). The goal for a public sociology class studying a low-income neighborhood would be to determine what is needed as far as resources and knowledge are concerned or changing conditions that will improve their lives. In addition, a pre-needs assessment can be an opportunity to discover the target population’s perception of the best solutions and strategies. These may be solutions that are different from the recommended solution from community organizations or faculty and students. With this data, faculty can guide students to implement programs in collaboration with community organizations faculty have partnered with to solve this problem. After the program decided upon is implemented or the solution has been presented, public sociology students can utilize post-needs assessments to determine how beneficial the program is and whether there are still unmet needs in the target population. The post-needs assessment method can be surveys, focus groups or interviews. Again, the goal is to assess how well the target population perceives their needs as being met. Did the proposed solution give participants a feeling of self-efficacy, additional human or financial resources, or are they still experiencing the same or related problem? Comparing pre- and post-test data can be a powerful way for students to learn the importance of participating in community-based research projects.

Evaluation research After conducting a needs assessment and developing a clear understanding of the problem, students can work with faculty and collaborating community agencies to bring about social change for the target population. Using the preceding example of a lack of public transportation in a low-income neighborhood, there must be an evaluation of whether the transportation has improved or more businesses have opened closer to the neighborhood, offering 233

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more employment opportunities. The next step after creating change in any public setting is to evaluate the effectiveness of the service, program or intervention. This is accomplished through program evaluation. Evaluations, like needs assessments, can draw from a variety of methods, including surveys, focus groups, observations and interviews. In this case, students can survey residents on how the changes have affected their lives. And data will reveal if the proposed changes were put into place and if residents are using the additional public transportation for employment by analyzing employment data and the additional public transportation provided. For example, do the residents now have buses that run later at night and are inexpensive to ride, and how is this intervention impacting the neighborhood as a whole? In addition, program evaluation measures the impact of the program put in place and determines if additional improvements or realignment of services are needed. Students can think of the program evaluation as the response to whether the services addressed the need appropriately and definitively (Yuen et al. 2009). In this way the needs assessment and evaluation research are interdependent on one another with one asking about the perceived needs and the next assessing whether the needs were met by the program put into place to address them. If the transportation intervention did not raise the income of the neighborhood, for example, students can work with their community organizations to discuss and implement alternative interventions. In the example of high unemployment and lack of adequate public transportation, students may need to reassess the needs of the residents and interview the unemployed residents to better understand the real needs of this sub-population.

Application of gentrification studies For community engagement to occur, knowledge produced must be disseminated to the community. This includes community stakeholders and power holders as well as community members. Reporting evaluation results fosters positive relationships between the university and surrounding community. It also gives the community an opportunity to hear and see how the curriculum and students working in the public sociology program have strong ties to the community and care about improving the lives of community members. Faculty collaborations with community organizations communicate and solidify a strong sense of commitment to the community as well. Over time this symbiotic relationship is reinforced as the community experiences positive change and has a clearer understanding regarding how sociology can be used to foster change. As discussed previously, presenting the proposed intervention or program to a public forum such as a ‘Town Hall’ will provide students with experience in public speaking and the skills to present and convey their research to different publics, including folks who range from community residents to city planning officials. This dissemination of information should include an accessible overview of the plan and an explanation of the purpose and methods as well as the expected results and actual results. Students can create written reports and include visual aids such as maps, graphs, charts and clearly understandable summaries of how the program was put into place, what it was expected to accomplish and how, as well as whether the target population feels their needs have been met.

What students today studying gentrification can learn from the Chicago School Foretelling and reflecting on the teaching of urban sociology, famed urban scholar Louis Wirth, protégé of Robert E. Park and other early Chicago School scholars, wrote,

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Courses on the community will doubtless be offered in the future . . . and it is to be hoped that practical effort in the community organization and social planning will rise to the opportunities and needs of our times. (1945:177) His vision included an interdisciplinary approach to studying communities; in his time, this included the disciplines of human ecology, social interaction and social psychology. Certainly, today the disciplines of social work, anthropology, criminology, history, psychology and others could be involved in an interdisciplinary approach to studying gentrification. Echoing this positive sentiment 15 years later, Stein adds some additional comments about the role of future researchers in this area: [T]he future of community studies does appear bright. However, the fate of this subdivision of sociology, as well as of other subdivisions, depends finally on the state of the sociological imagination. Sociology must attract, encourage, and train people who enjoy interpreting social processes. (1960:337) These people are college and university students, like those trained by the Chicago School almost a century ago. Sociology students today are armed with more sophisticated methodologies, more evolved theoretical perspectives and a better understanding of growing community needs and available services than in the past. A public sociology perspective directs the flow of knowledge from students and their academic mentors back into the communities they are investigating. Gentrification is a process that has profound implications for the lives of marginalized sub-populations and lower-income neighborhoods. College and university students in a public sociology program are well equipped to address these urban challenges, provided they receive the proper mentoring experiences; a century-old program has offered a blueprint.

A public sociology gentrification plan in the nation’s oldest city Lincolnville is a community in St. Augustine, Florida – the nation’s oldest continually inhabited city, a municipality of approximately 15,000 residents located in northeast Florida about 40 miles south of Jacksonville. The Lincolnville community (named after President Lincoln) was established in 1866 by freed African Americans and experienced violent racial clashes during the Civil Rights era. According to census data, in 2010 Lincolnville was 42% white; however, by 2014, this number increased to 75% white, and over the last five years, the area has continued to become a gentrified space, fundamentally changing the constitution of a very historic area. There exists a museum, the Lincolnville Museum and Cultural Center, which serves as a community focal point in providing historical material for a study of the area. Flagler College, a small regional institution with a strong liberal arts focus, located in the heart of St. Augustine and very close in proximity to Lincolnville, possesses a unique opportunity to provide a valuable learning experience for students of the college and for the community. Under the direction of sociology faculty, current students will extend the work of former students (now graduated) who conducted interviews of Lincolnville residents in 2016 and 2017, in which preliminary information was gathered as part of a senior seminar project with two objectives: to identify the factors that contributed to Lincolnville’s gentrification and to determine if gentrification promoted a divide between longtime residents and new residents moving

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into the area. An upcoming project, currently referred to as the Lincolnville Gentrification Project will give students the opportunity to work with local organizations to better understand the history of the area they are studying. In addition, the project will be used to address questions such as: what are the views of the generational residents (including former residents) and gentrifying residents regarding the gentrification of Lincolnville? What happens to their sense of community and belonging when gentrification forces them to relocate? Are there health challenges based on the stress related to loss of community? What is the role of historical racism in the gentrification of the area? These and other questions will be generated collaboratively by student, community and faculty interests. The project will be beneficial to students for several reasons. They will learn hands-on research processes, both qualitative and quantitative; better understand the relationship between research, theory and application and develop ideas about social change and community life. The information obtained as a result of this project will assist them in preparation for occupations related to urban planning, public service, institutional work and others. Additionally, it will provide a better understanding on the effects of gentrification on entire neighborhoods and the larger community. The project will also be beneficial to the community of Lincolnville and the City of St. Augustine. Flagler College has deep roots in the community, and the knowledge produced by the students in this project can be provided to the key stakeholders in the gentrification process currently underway in Lincolnville. In the spirit of public sociology, the information generated from the project can provide knowledge and support to decision-makers and community advocates for Lincolnville and other gentrifying areas, such as another historically minority community in St. Augustine that is beginning to undergo similar changes. In addition, faculty will benefit from the mentoring relationship with student protégés. The training of students in this manner follows the tradition of the Chicago School of Sociology team of urban scholars who taught University of Chicago students to view urban communities as social laboratories and, through immersion and ethnographic study, to emerge with empirical analysis that can be used to improve the observed communities. In addition, research generated in these collaborations will result in scholarship that engages the publics associated with the vicissitudes of the gentrification process.

References Bulmer, Martin. 1984. The Chicago School of Sociology: Institutionalization, Diversity, and the Rise of Sociological Research. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press. Christensen, Linda. 2015. “ ‘EJ’ in Focus: Rethinking Research: Reading and Writing About the Roots of Gentrification.” The English Journal 105(2):15–21. Retrieved September 20, 2019 (https://secure.ncte. org/library/NCTEFiles/Resources/Journals/EJ/1052-nov2015/EJ1052Focus.pdf). Deegan, Mary J. 2013. “Hill-house and the Chicago Schools of Sociology: Public and Liberation Sociology on Race, Class, Gender, and Peace.” Pp. 29–46 in The Chicago School Diaspora: Epistemology and Substance, edited by J. Low and G. Bowden. Montreal, Kingston and Ithaca: McGill-Queen’s University Press. Gans, Herbert J. 2015. “Public Sociology and Its Publics.” American Sociologist 47:3–11. doi:10.1007/ s12108-015-9278-5. Gross, Matthias M. 2009. “Collaborative Experiments: Jane Addams, Hull House and Experimental Social Work.” Social Science Information 48(1):81–91. doi:10.1177/0539018408099638. Harney, Liam, Jenny McCurry, James Scott, and Jane Wills. 2016. “Developing ‘Process Pragmatism’ to Underpin Engaged Research in Human Geography.” Progress in Human Geography 40(3):316–333. doi:10.1177/0309132515623367. 236

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Hartmann, Douglas. 2017. “Sociology and Its Publics: Reframing Engagement and Revitalizing the Field.” Sociological Quarterly 58(1):3–18. doi:10.1080/00380253.2016.1248132. Horgan, Mervyn. 2013. “Flop Houses, Fancy Hotels, and “Second-rate Bohemia”: Zorbaugh’s the Gold Coast and the Slum and the Gentrification Debate.” Pp. 178–198 in The Chicago School Diaspora: Epistemology and Substance, edited by J. Low and G. Bowden. Montreal, Kingston and Ithaca: McGill-Queen’s University Press. Khoury, Muin J. and John P.A. Loannidis. 2014. “Big Data Meets Public Health.” Science 346(6213):1054– 1055. Retrieved September  22. doi:10.1126/science.aaa2709 (http://content.ebscohost.com/ ContentServer.asp?EbscoContent=dGJyMNXb4kSeqK44y9f3OLCmsEiep7JSr6a4S7GWxWXS &ContentCustomer=dGJyMPGusUuxp7NNuePfgeyx43zx1%2B6B&T=P&P=AN&S=R&D=as n&K=99683611). Lundblad, Karen S. 1995. “Jane Addams and Social Reform: A Role Model for the 1990s.” Social Work 40(5):661–669. Retrieved September 14, 2019 (http://content.ebscohost.com/ContentServer.asp?Ebs coContent=dGJyMNXb4kSeqK44y9f3OLCmsEiep7JSr6q4SrWWxWXS&ContentCustomer=dGJy MPGusUuxp7NNuePfgeyx43zx1%2B6B&T=P&P=AN&S=R&D=asn&K=9509275459). Matthews, Fred H. 1977. Quest for an American Sociology: Robert Park and the Chicago School. Montreal and London: McGill-Queens University Press. Park, Robert E. and Burgess Ernest. 1925 [1967]. The City: Suggestions for Investigation of Human Behavior in the Urban Environment. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press. Pennell, James R. and Tim Maher. 2015. “Whom Will Sociology Serve? Transforming the Discipline by Engaging Communities.” Humanity & Society 39(1):47–63. doi:10.1177/0160597614548421. Puddephatt, Anthony J. 2013. “Finding George Herbert Mead’s Social Ontology in his Engagement with Key Intellectual Influences.” Pp. 93–109 in The Chicago School Diaspora: Epistemology and Substance J. Low and G. Bowden. Montreal, Kingston and Ithaca: McGill-Queen’s University Press. Smith, Dennis. 1988. The Chicago School: A Liberal Critique of Capitalism. New York: St. Martin’s Press. Stein, Maurice R. 1960. The Eclipse of Community: An Interpretation of American Studies. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Storper, Michael. 2013. Keys to the City: How Economies, Institutions, Social Interactions and Politics Shape Development. Princeton, NJ and Oxford: Oxford University Press. United States Department of Labor: Bureau of Labor Statistics. 2013. Retrieved May 15, 2019 (www.bls. gov/bls/demographics.htm). Wirth, Louis. 1945. On Cities and Social Life. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press. Woods, Leah., Jamie Willis, D.C. Wright, and Tim Knapp. 2013. “Building Community Engagement in Higher Education: Public Sociology at Missouri State University.” Journal of Public Scholarship in Higher Education 3:67–90. Retrieved September 20, 2019 (https://files-eric-ed-gov.research.flagler.edu/fulltext/EJ1120257.pdf). Yuen, Francis K.O., Kenneth L. Terao, and Anna M. Schmidt. 2009. Effective Grant Writing and Program Evaluation for Human Services Professionals. Hoboken, NJ: Wiley and Sons. Zorbaugh, Harvey W. 1929 [1979]. The Gold Coast and the Slum: A Sociological Study of Chicago’s Near North Side. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

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18 The virtue of teaching public sociology in the neoliberal university Martin Tolich and Michael Fallon

Teaching is equally central to public sociology: students are our first public for they carry sociology into all walks of life. – Michael Burawoy

This chapter compares the development of public sociology courses at two distinctly different universities: Otago University, New Zealand, and San José State University (SJSU), California. Otago University is located in Dunedin, a city of 120,000, on the southern end of New Zealand. Otago University has a homogenous student population of 22,000. California State University at San José (SJSU) is located in the heart of Silicon Valley and the San Francisco metropolis of 4,700,000. SJSU has a diverse student population of 33,000. In researching his book, Public Sociology Capstones: Non-Neoliberal Alternatives to Internships (2018), Martin Tolich came across the syllabus of Instructor Michael Fallon whose introductory letter to his students on the importance of his course was cited in Tolich’s book. In one section, Fallon outlined the uniqueness of his public sociology capstone course: [T]his is not your traditional course, there are few lectures, but much interaction. I deem this course akin to an actual job, a professional assignment that demands a professional performance; and you’ll be evaluated on that performance. In lieu of the 80-hour internship, the course incorporates a variety of campus & community experiences, and a minimum of 24+ hours of community engagement. This chapter has three goals. First, it recounts the emergence of the public sociology frame at both Otago University and SJSU. Second, it describes how both Tolich and Fallon created their public sociology courses framed around a capstone pedagogy that scaffolded students’ learning incrementally. Rather than being lecture focused, their weekly class time was spent in small class sizes (30 students per class) workshopping students’ public sociology research and/or engagement projects. Third, the chapter explains the utility of public sociology in a neoliberal university, bridging the gap between the classroom and the students’ lifelong practice of public sociology. 238

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Course origins – Otago Parents of Otago students at the 2008 humanities graduation asked Tolich a fair question: ‘what could their children do with a sociology degree?’ His answer was stock, parroting out destinations where sociology students had gained employment. There was some veracity in this statement. Nearly every sociology department’s website in the world has a list of employment options for sociology students; the scope of the list is limitless. This response satisfied neither the parents nor Tolich; these options were only destinations, while the pathway to them was not clear-cut. The span between university education and employment was a chasm without a defined bridge. Unlike students who enrolled on their first day of college in teacher education, social work, nursing, medicine or physiotherapy, sociology students had no clear professional objective. And these parents knew it. Hence, Tolich developed a public sociology course, but the starting point had a number of hesitant phases. He knew he wanted a course with a clearly defined pathway, allowing sociology seniors to take part in an independent research project that would allow them to gain firsthand research experience. The task was preparatory for an entry-level ‘policy analyst’ position with either a government department or a non-government organization. He believed the students’ research topic needed to originate from outside the university and within the local community. His pedagogical approach used a teamwork model for three reasons. First, the research project put forth by the community may be beyond the confidence and skill levels of any particular student. Second, teamwork was a requisite skill for entry-level policy analyst employment. Third, teamwork was a pragmatic pedagogy. Supervising 30 individual projects would have been unworkable. Creating teams of three students in each was manageable. Public sociology was not the emphasis of the Otago course initially. At first, without much reflection, the course was thought of as an internship. However, when the sociology department tried to gain approval for the course, the university bureaucracy deemed the term ‘internship’ a generic concept applicable to many departments. This was disappointing but fortuitous. In hindsight, the course was implicitly a public sociology course. Its audience was a public, not the university. A further refinement of the emergent course was labeling it a public sociology capstone. Hauhart and Grahe’s (2015) describe a capstone as a highly scaffolded course undertaken as the final coursework for any graduating senior. Rather than being a taught class, the semester-long public sociology capstone allowed students in teams of three to hone research skills inculcated previously in other courses. Thus, as the course developed at Otago, its focus was on research methods learned in previous classes and on employability. The SJSU course was similar, using a scaffold of the students’ previous learning, but the course evolved differently, toward social change and/or grassroots organizing.

Course origins – SJSU Parallel to Otago, in 2010, SJSU’s Sociology Department replaced the graduation requirement of a one-semester 80-hour internship with a career capstone course. The reasoning was that the internship, with little coaching or mentoring, in actuality did not serve the professional development needs of the student, nor did the majority of student internships serve the needs of the community. The internship focus was more on the individual desire of the student. This acknowledgment was consistent with the findings of R. Perlin (2011:xi) in his book Intern Nation: How to Earn Nothing and Learn Little in the Brave New Economy. Swan (2015:32), writing from a UK perspective, adds another form of disparagement: Students, interns, journalists and trade unions agree that internships are exploitative on many counts: lack of pay or poor pay, unstable and insecure work, few tangible benefits and poor 239

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quality of work experience offered. . . . An internship has become a transaction in which experience and learning, and not money as in the past, are exchanged for work performed. The SJSU Capstone’s scaffolding built upon students’ learning in earlier courses, particularly Community Involvement & Personal Growth, Social Action and Qualitative & Quantitative Methods. The new career capstone offered salient benefits providing guidance, professionally and sociologically for students. The logistics of the capstone reflected the student body. SJSU students are generally of the lower or middle working class. Most senior students work 30–40 hours a week, making a full semester internship placement a burden on their overall education and college experience. Hence, ownership of an industrious engagement or research project is often less than ideal. Given the time pressures, outreach was limited to 24 hours of community engagement spread over the semester and aimed at achieving the benefits of high-impact educational practices, notably service learning. When Fallon assumed the lectureship of the SJSU capstone course, he designated it public sociology at a time when public sociology was gaining recognition in the field. This followed up on Michael Burawoy’s (2005) stated perspective of sociology: As mirror and conscience of society, sociology must define, promote and inform public debate about deepening class and racial inequalities, new gender regimes, environmental degradation, market fundamentalism, state and not-state violence. Concurrently, Mary Robinson, former president of Ireland, speaking in San Francisco, had addressed the need for a public sociology. This calling lent a focus on the implicit purpose of sociology – that is, to direct its academic study to the pursuit of addressing and solving social problems. Further, the SJSU capstone built upon, extended and renewed basic tenets of the discipline, those being social change and the classic ‘sociological imagination.’ To this end, Burawoy (2005) claimed: Teaching is equally central to public sociology: students are our first public for they carry sociology into all walks of life . . . the critical imagination, exposing the gap between what is and what could be, infuses values into public sociology to remind us that the world could be different. Not all of the three professors who had previously taught into the capstone course had emphasized the public sociology concept equally. A graduate of one of the courses said: Public sociology wasn’t explicitly stated in my Capstone or Social Action class; though our projects attempted to achieve social change. Actually, the Social Action Class felt more of an engagement in the public sociology realm – interacting with the community affected by the problem, grounded theory approach, and grassroots organizing. In effect, moving beyond the internship placement model and into the capstone course took time. At SJSU, it was not just a pedagogical shift, it was an ideological one.

Internship versus capstone course Otago’s public sociology capstone developed contemporaneously as an adjacent New Zealand University, Canterbury University, responded to neoliberal threats to the humanities 240

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when newspaper editorials questioned the merit of a bachelor of arts degree. The Christchurch Press (Editorial 2007) mocked Canterbury University’s bachelor of arts (BA) program seeing it as standing for ‘bugger all’ and a weak cop-out for an education. Johnston (2011) reported that Canterbury’s College of Arts’ administration, lacking financial and popular support, realized the need to demonstrate the real worth applicability of the BA. Their answer was an internship placement program labeled ‘work-integrated learning,’ designed to counter the negative commentary and eventually to engage with and capitalize on the university’s neoliberal investment (Tolich 2018). Johnston, the Canterbury University internship course controller, saw the internship having potential to generate citizens who work for social justice rather than conform to the status quo. The outcomes were not what she hoped. Johnston (2011:179) found all interns articulated a deep investment in neoliberal and market-based ideologies, this in spite of the various targeted readings, several lectures, multiple video clips, and online and in-class discussions that framed challenges to neoliberal ideals. Tolich’s (2018) public sociology course was distanced from this neoliberal internship model. He argued that Canterbury University’s social science internships reproduced students with a sense of their own entitlement and privilege rather than political disquiet. This sentiment or outcome is not ‘the Promise’ (Mills 1959) of social science. Typically, public sociology students at SJSU and Otago look outward, trained to help others and to understand the way the social world works and how it might be changed for the better. That is what Johnston wanted to achieve but could not. The feature of capstone courses described by Hauhart and Grahe (2015:198) suggest evaluating the course at the end, plus regularly, with reflective journals. Both Tolich and Fallon did this. End-of-semester research conducted by Tolich and colleagues at the University of Otago (Tolich, Paris, and Shephard 2014) found the public sociology students were less likely to be focused inwardly; instead, their perspective was to work for their community organization, to focus on the other. Reflective journals revealed how this othering evolved. Invariably, the student’s first reflection recorded the first meeting with the community group to learn about their research topic and how stressful this could be. Many students likened it to a job interview. However, by the time the students wrote the second reflection a couple of weeks later, the stress had moved from nervousness to anxiety over whether they could fulfil their community clients’ research question. By this stage, the students’ focus was on ‘the other’ rather than what they could achieve personally. This outcome was significantly different from the neoliberal marketbased ideologies found in the Canterbury University internship program. The structuring of the capstone course at SJSU was similar to the Otago University capstone, as it also put emphasis on innovative and trending ‘educational practices.’ A  capstone could integrate the effectiveness of other high-impact service learning, collaborative projects, undergraduate research and construction of a learning portfolio. Hence, these practices became essential elements in the SJSU capstone course, and the ‘College Learning Portfolio’ served as a coherent structure scaffolding the semester course experience. The learning portfolio delineated four years of sociological coursework and related activity and projected future professional direction. This further aligned with SJSU’s underlying ‘Continuum of Service’ progression from high school community service to college service learning to deeper community engagement to internship and to a professional career. The capstone elevated service learning to a deeper level of engagement in organizations and/or community projects – for example, CommUniverCitySan José [http://cucsj.org/]. 241

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The merits of the SJSU capstone course, even when limited to a 24-hour outreach, were nonetheless extremely beneficial. Whereas Otago students took part in an 80-hour 13-week semester-long engagement with the community; in San José, financial commitments meant students were restricted in how much community outreach was possible. At SJSU the community engagement component was formally introduced in the third week into the course when up to five community partner organizations presented their social programs and their volunteer needs to the students. Students then committed to serve with one of those organizations for a minimum of 24 hours over the semester. At this point, the students were directly involved in scheduling projects/activities with the community partner; most took the form of direct service in some organizational capacity. Partners were encouraged to act as co-educators, particularly in regard to students achieving community engagement objectives. The emphasis of the outreach was social change. One SJSU capstone graduate described the courses’ core values saying, ‘Activities were addressing social problems on a grassroots scale.’

Learning objectives – Otago vis-à-vis SJSU The Otago course’s learning objectives were different than SJSU, focusing less explicitly on social change, though social change does appear organically in the community projects. The focus was largely on the development of the student’s abilities to conduct research and hone research skills while working in a team environment, with the assistance of a community partner, for the good of the community. Upon successful completion of this course, students would be able to: • • • • • •

Work cooperatively and effectively within a three- to four-member research team Use methodological skills and theoretical insights to define an iterative research topic that should be negotiated with the client Design a mixed methods research instrument that meets the needs of the research question Gain experience working within a community agency and conducting oneself as a professional researcher Conduct the research adhering to key ethical principles Present the findings as a written and a verbal report

The SJSU course was different by design. It focused more on sociological processes and social change rather than methodology and research ethics. Upon successful completion, students would be able to: • •

• •

•

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Understand the linkages between sociology (theoretical) and practice (action or activity). Construct a sociological analysis of the community organization, describing the history, mission, service programs, clientele and needs, volunteer roles, community role, social problems addressed, staffing, operations, funding sources and outcomes or community impact. Understand their role as an active participant in society and how to engage in learning and activity throughout their life. Assemble a portfolio showcasing their progress and accomplishments in ways that give them academic and professional advantage. The portfolio of coursework, skills, values and demonstration of a sociological imagination reflects the student’s readiness to assume the responsibilities of a professional career. Communicate orally their skills and qualifications (i.e., mock interview, oral presentation of research material).

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• • •

Prepare materials (cover letters, résumés) to use in applying to professional occupations. Understand the types of jobs/careers in which sociologists can be employed. Students will gain exposure to the professional networks that further occupational/career goals. Comprehend and demonstrate characteristics of ‘intentional learners’ who can adapt to new environments, integrate knowledge from different sources and continue learning throughout their lives, while demonstrating the capacity to participate as a socially responsible member of civic, professional, cultural and global communities.

Student learning and knowledge – SJSU A premise for teaching public sociology at the undergraduate level is the imperative to apprehend the landscape of one’s community, to understand their demographics and understand the critical issues facing these community groups. This was done more thoroughly at SJSU than at Otago (though resulting from the collaboration, Otago is now moving in this direction). In general, it is challenging to define boundaries for a large, diverse group, given students’ preference for any professional pursuits beyond their local environs. Fortunately, in Silicon Valley, there is an elevated awareness of a global society that transcends local time and place. This was found in how graduates reflected on their learning and knowledge development. One student said: These types of courses force students to engage in public sociology. By that I mean that most sociology classes only have their students talk about social problems (and don’t get me wrong I don’t mean to berate research; I think that until the proper research has been done, one’s attempts to solve a social problem can’t be meaningful). But the capstone undeniably got us to go past reading assignments and actually engage with the institutions. Fallon’s SJSU colleagues who also teach the public sociology course reflect on the students’ experience as active learners using scaffolded learning from previous classes. As students engage with organizations, they are able to see how research skills they have learned are put to use by those seeking to alleviate such problems or by those seeking to create policy for change. . . . Students are turned into active learners through the community engagement projects they take on, as well as through modelling their communication skills in class activities/exercises. We emphasize the value of being able to articulate their knowledge (of sociology in general, and certain issues in particular) to a lay audience as a way to connect with members of communities that may not have a formal education in the social sciences. The ability to understand and explain research data, theoretical concepts, and ideas around policy is important for the work that some of them do in their community placements. The SJSU focus has been different to Otago’s, but this does not mean that Otago students don’t get beneath the surface of society within their community outreach projects. (See the Rape Crisis discussion).

An evolving community outreach – SJSU The type of outreach in each of these public sociology capstones has changed over time. At first, the SJSU focus was on a community engagement component, requiring students to serve a 243

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local community organization or cause, directly or indirectly, through service, research, surveys, compiling data or assisting grant writing. Students working in small groups arranged their own organization engagement given criteria for approval. In the first few years, there was a wide variety of outreach meeting the basic needs of those in poverty, and supporting immigration was central. This changed in 2012. In 2012 when ‘housing and homelessness’ rose to a critical issue in the region, it became the central theme, and students linked to related programs, including the creation of a program to restore and maintain San José’s Coyote Creek polluted by homeless encampments. Those organizations included: Sacred Heart Community Services, Catholic Charities, SIRENServices, Immigration Rights and Education Network, PACT-People Acting in Community Together, HomeFirst, Winter Faith Collaborative and South Bay Clean Creeks Coalition. Fallon’s research protocol for the homeless research project was complex, mirroring the Otago research protocol. It stated: Working individually and in teams, as a class you will develop a rationale and plan to house the homeless at the Santa Clara County Fairgrounds. You will research homelessness in S.C. County 2017 and solutions in other cities for ‘sheltering’ and/or ‘housing’ the homeless. Research why SCC Fairground plans to house the homeless have failed to gain traction. Meet with County Supervisors to learn potential of housing homeless there, and/or objections and/or barriers to overcome. Investigate the status of Measure A plans for ELI (Extremely Low Income) housing and attend Measure A meetings to advocate for housing homeless at Fairgrounds. Arrange a tour of Fairgrounds site and map out a village. Propose types of housing, e.g., industrial tents, micro-housing, tiny houses, converted shipping containers. Engage with partner organizations to solicit their support. Make public the class proposal and follow-up with letters to media, officials and community directors. Regardless of any particular theme, SJSU students started engagement by interviewing and tracking their parents’ life journey into the workplace and into adult living. This data was used comparatively. SJSU student families were racially and socioeconomically diverse, and students’ comparing one another’s family upbringing was revelatory. Presentations by community organizations then added insight into local social problems faced by various ethnic or generational clientele. Subsequently, teams of students were assigned to digest the overarching annual Silicon Valley Index – ‘a comprehensive report of indicators that measure the strength of our economy and the health of our community, highlighting challenges and providing an analytical foundation for leadership and decision making’ – and to share summative reports. Students were further required to read two books: one sociological-based novel on a current issue – for example, Tent City Urbanism by Andrew Heben (2014); followed by an approved novel of their choosing related to a social science profession. Both the Otago students and SJSU students journalized their ongoing community engagement, experiences, insights and reflections. In culmination, student teams applied the Logic (assessment) Model to any one of the social problems they identified or engaged with. At semester end, both the Otago students and SJSU student teams made (public) presentations to classmates and community partners.

An evolving community outreach – Otago The Otago outreach has also evolved. In the first eight years of operation, the public sociology capstone has outreached to over 30 community organizations. These include social services

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agencies, commercial companies and voluntary organizations. The eclectic mix of this includes but is not limited to these organizations. • The Dunedin City Libraries’ Mobile Library (the book bus) • The Otago Daily Times’ Dawn Patrol (young newspaper deliverers) • Food distribution by Dunedin’s four food banks (supporting food distribution to disadvantaged people in the community) • The Marine Science Outreach for gifted and talented school children • Access Ability: Access Ability is an organization that assists people in the community who have intellectual disabilities • Alphabet Soup, a fledgling support group for LBGQT youth • Rape Crisis Otago students captured their experiences of the course reflexively in their bimonthly reflective journals. As with the SJSU student experience, the Otago students shared an overall sense that the course was different from traditional courses. They viewed themselves not only as researchers but as public sociologist researchers working on projects on behalf of their community organization, and their commitment to the organization lasted even after the 13-week class had ended. Examples of these reflections focus on the accountability the students had toward real projects for real clients. They wrote: While there feels like there is less of a workload in this [public sociology] class, it also feels more stressful because I am actually accountable to other people, including my organization, my lecturer and my [study] partner – as well as the university itself. Public Sociology mirrors ‘real life.’ We are tasked with meeting with an organization, deciphering their needs and what we can do to benefit their organization. Actual research is carried out in the project rather than just theorized about and the final product that is produced will have real consequences for the relevant organization it is produced for. These Otago students’ reflective journal entries characterize the public sociology course as being ‘real,’ in comparison to the more abstract research methods course taken in the previous year. The Otago students saw the public sociology capstone for what it was: an autonomous learning environment that pushed students to adapt to grasp hold of the entire research. At times, the course pushed the students into challenging and unexpected ways. Two teams of students, working for the organization Rape Crisis in different years ended up with conclusions that challenged the core assumptions of the organization. While the research projects Rape Crisis assigned to them – collating surveys in one year and interviewing referral agencies the next – were different, upon reflection, the two teams were remarkably similar. They discovered that they had the same transformative research experience when presenting their novel results to the organization. The outcome led to them questioning both their original research questions and themselves. In the first year, the team collated and coded 750 customer satisfaction surveys from high and low socioeconomic high school students who had taken part in a Rape Crisis workshop presentation. The overall satisfaction levels between the groups were different. The students from the higher socioeconomic schools rated the workshop more effective on every outcome measure. This outcome the team saw was an epiphany moment, as they were not expecting to find anything of significance.

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The team hypothesized that those from higher socioeconomic backgrounds were more inclined to give praise than those from the lower socioeconomic backgrounds in light of the former being more willing to express their emotions. Thus, an explanation in the divergence in the students’ results pointed to Rape Crisis using a survey that produced a class-based analysis. The following year, students located flaws in Rape Crisis organizational assumptions. Rape Crisis had been receiving data from referrals in terms of whether certain organizations had been or had not been referring to them when presented with a case of sexual violence. These organizations were first responders, the police and DSAC (doctors for sexual abuse care). The police were very effective at referring women to Rape Crisis, but DSAC was less forthcoming. The students quickly began an investigation into this discrepancy. DSAC said that women who reported to them were less likely to think of what had happened to them as rape, and DSAC did not want to impose the ‘rape’ label on these women. This was not an institutional bias; it was labeling. DSAC would not refer or discuss Rape Crisis because that in itself would be labeling what that woman had experienced despite her not having said that. Not only were these findings extraordinary, they went beyond expectations of the class. It is unusual, in New Zealand, for undergraduate students to submit their research to a sociology journal. The output was published as this: Stewart, K. and M. Speight. 2016. ‘Examining Rape Crisis Practice: A Public Sociology Duo-Ethnography.’ New Zealand Sociology 31(1):181.

Lecturer reflections After its first year of operation, Tolich conducted an audit of how Otago’s public sociology interacted with the community organizations the students worked for. The result was not positive. Tolich (2018) now concedes that listening to the honest and robust criticism by community liaisons were some of the most excruciating moments in his teaching career. These community managers required more from the lecturer. They insisted on greater clarity on the objectives of the project, a time frame for the work to be completed, an outline of the resources (including peoples’ time) and an agreed process for communication between all parties. These community liaisons were more likely to be active than passive. Having originated the project, they naturally wanted to be involved in all aspects of the research. To promote this active involvement, they wanted to receive the full literature review used to establish the research question before students began their interviews. Community liaisons wanted to be informed about the course schedules and other milestones that students must meet. This was not the only mistake Tolich made. A related overreach occurred in the first year when seeking ethics approval from the university ethics committee for the students’ projects. Ethics applications written on a high-risk application form was pedagogically unnecessary. By gaining ethics approval prior to the beginning of the course, a great deal of the research design was usurped from the community liaisons and the students. The ethics application detailed the research projects to the nth degree, outlining the entire project. The application included writing indicative interview questions, justification for the project and likely style for how the research output would be produced. If community liaisons were disappointed in how little involved they were in the project, so too were students. The ethics application left little autonomy for the students. By 2013, the second year of the course, the 25-page ethics application for each project was replaced by a low-risk application that could be approved expeditiously at the departmental level. The three-page short ethics form meant students were now required to develop their own research question and link it to the most appropriate research instrument (such as a survey or an unstructured interview guide). In the second year, students did most of their own preparatory 246

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groundwork in consultation with the community liaison. This innovation solved two problems simultaneously, giving both students and the community organizations more independence. Ethical considerations at SJSU were less formal, kept within the parameters of classwork. As future classes reach deeper in systems and/or policy change, this is likely to alter at SJSU. Risk management concerns had previously developed guidelines – that is, safety, responsibilities and reporting procedures, and these hard copy guidelines were signed and submitted by students (now online at www.sjsu.edu/ccll/sjs4/index.html). In regard to any community orientation, given that these were sociology seniors and that many were themselves of low socioeconomic status, no particular preparation was advanced; rather, partner agencies customarily provided such orientation. Processing students’ community engagement experiences was addressed through journaling and class discussion. Whereas the Otago public sociology course was evaluated in the first year by the organization assigning research, a shortcoming of the SJSU public sociology course was the lack of a more constructive evaluation by partner organizations, foremost, a mutual accounting of the service project. During finals week, organization members are invited to student team presentations to hear what the individual or team accomplished and gained by their engagement. Regrettably, few community members participated. However, for their portfolio, students are to request letters of recommendation based on their engagement efforts, and some are quoted in their presentations. Otherwise, it falls largely on the professor and critical peers’ questioning to draw connections to a public sociology. Students were encouraged to follow up with others in that public network and to write letters (e.g., to the news editor) on the importance of these societal changes or social justice issues.

Conclusion – SJSU and Otago Based upon their comparative experience, the authors found that a Capstone course at the senior level with a balance of research and community engagement is of great ‘virtue’ to graduating sociology students and is superior to a neoliberal internship. Whereas traditional internships at best tend to serve the student relative to a defined role in an organization, such a public sociology capstone focuses the graduate on the sociological promise for the ‘Other’ and less on the ‘Self.’ Public sociology cannot be done outside the community. It also cannot be short lived and must perpetuate. A broader public sociology perspective warrants permeating the consciousness of social science graduates as they engage in their professional pursuits in the global workplace. Such students can change the world for the better. As predicted by Fallon’s letter that first attracted Tolich’s attention to SJSU, Fallon’s public sociology course was not traditional fare. His course was predicated upon professional work where students had a transformative experience working for the public good on a topic devised by community agencies. Students accepted the challenge and worked for the other, not themselves. Tolich created a similar public sociology capstone. His students took on the persona of an employee when first interviewing their client about what task they wanted studied. From that point onward, Tolich’s students were co-opted by the community, focused on the other. At a forum held at San José State University on November 5, 2019, the authors asked current instructors and the recent graduate students to contrast Tolich’s book with the SJSU capstone. An interesting talking point became how the Business College taught its upper-level courses. The consensus was that the pedagogy, moreover, the perspective was quite adverse: while ‘Business supports neoliberalism; Social Science challenges it.’ There was a sense that what Tolich was trying to do at Otago – that is, move away from the neoliberal focus – was achieved in San José 247

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State Public Sociology courses. The students’ focus was on research and/or service for the other, not necessarily gaining information that one could use in the job market. A second convergence found the courses aligning more around utilizing social science research techniques. As a direct result of dialogue on Martin Tolich’s book, Public Sociology Capstones, and this ensuing paper, Fallon’s colleague capstone instructor refocused the community engagement component to a student research project! The new design draws more specifically on labor conditions within the local community. With the increasing population of food industry workers in (wealthy) Silicon Valley, students undertook a study of ‘Food Service Workers and Businesses.’ This modification allowed students to use their social science skills to address a singular social problem with implications for a public policy purpose, demonstrating potentially stronger social activism and social change rather than simple service or theoretical research. The SJSU instructor’s initial focus on interview research forced students to use their social science skills, develop matching evidence to hypotheses and determine causal analyses that may help workers in their occupations and with their citizenship. This flexible format also eases the burden on students’ class and work schedules. Relative to learning the landscape for a public sociology, these students begin digesting the ROC United Studies: BKD Bay Area Restaurants and Racial Equity Tool Box, for main issues that these prior studies have discovered. Students’ research will culminate as customary with in-class presentations and, as the project develops, presentations to the campus and public and in a booklet form. Integral to this greater emphasis on research techniques was the recognition that an ethics review would need to be formalized with the University’s Institutional Review Board, as in accordance with Otago University’s position. Concurrently, the Tolich course is transitioning from singular organization priorities toward recognition of critical social problems as SJSU has been addressing. The Otago University 2020 course will focus on ‘the sharing economy’ with students required to locate organizations that contribute to a shared economy. Students will be more autonomous in locating their research site and regulating access to these organizations, lending a sense of career search. Consistent with the social action model employed at San José State, Otago students will be required to not only develop their research techniques, but will be expected to go one step further and to critique core sociological concepts. This task is not impossible, as was demonstrated in the rape crisis example cited. Moreover, as the SJSU graduate students affirmed at the November 5 forum, such capstone vision and coursework can instill in graduates a public sociology value that should permeate their professional and public lives.

References Burawoy, M. 2005. “For Public Sociology.” American Sociological Review 70(1):4–28. Centre for Human Services Technology. 2005. “Defining Research Mindedness.” Retrieved June 18, 2009 (www.resmind.swap.ac.uk/). “Editorial.” 2007. The Christchurch Press. P. A21, May  5. Retrieved (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ The_Press). Hauhart, R.C. and J.E. Grahe. 2015. Designing and Teaching Undergraduate Capstone Courses. New York: John Wiley & Sons. Heben, Andrew. 2014. Tent City Urbanism: From Self-organized Camps to Tiny House Villages. Eugene, OR: The Village Collaborative. Johnston, J. 2011. “Interrogating the Goals of Work-Integrated Learning: Neoliberal Agendas and Critical Pedagogy.” Asia-Pacific Journal of Cooperative Education 12(3):175–182. Mills, C. Wright 1959. The Sociological Imagination. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

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Perlin, R. 2011. Intern Nation: How to Earn Nothing and Learn Little in the Brave New Economy. London: Verso Books. Stewart, K. and M. Speight. 2016. “Examining Rape Crisis Practice: A Public Sociology Duoethnography.” New Zealand Sociology 31(1):181. Swan, Elaine. 2015. “The Internship Class: Subjectivity and Inequalities – Gender, Race and Class.” Handbook of Gendered Careers in Management: Getting In, Getting On, Getting Out:30–43. Tolich, Martin. 2018. Public Sociology Capstones: Non-Neoliberal Alternatives to Internships. Oxfordshire, UK: Routledge. Tolich, M., A. Paris, and K. Shephard. 2014. “An Evaluation of Experiential Learning in a Sociology Internship Class.” New Zealand Sociology 29(1):119–134.

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19 Centering social justice in public sociology Lessons from the undocumented student equity project Laura E. Enriquez and Martha Morales Hernandez

We came to sociology thinking it was about shedding light on injustice and solving social problems. For Martha, her undergraduate sociology classes were some of the first places she saw the experiences of immigrants, racial/ethnic minorities and women represented. When she took a course on undocumented migration with Laura, she was struck by the inclusion of community members who presented on how they advocated for immigrant communities through storytelling and research. Our early research experiences also welcomed us into collaborations with our sociology professors and peers. For Laura, this emerged as the opportunity to join Dr. Gilda Ochoa in conducting interviews and ethnographic observations at a local high school to understand the reproduction of academic inequality between Latina/o/x and Asian American students (see Ochoa 2013; Ochoa et al. 2012). We were drawn to sociology because it encouraged us to think through systemic and everyday ways to combat inequalities, advance conversations about equity and recognize the strength and knowledge of marginalized communities. These spaces centered our experiences as valid ways of knowing, taught us to listen and instilled in us the importance of collaborating with community members to effect change. Later, we learned that this was a small sliver of sociology, tucked away on the edges of the discipline. Much of sociology has concerned itself with advancing knowledge for the academy. We appreciate the importance of this work, especially as we seek to diversify sociological thought by centering the experiences of marginalized groups. Yet, we have built our research agendas around the questions that brought us to sociology in the first place – What are the experiences of marginalized groups? How do we use this knowledge to advance social justice? In his 2004 presidential address to the American Sociological Association (ASA), Michael Burawoy (2005) wrote that public sociology seeks to reclaim the discipline’s origins as our ‘predecessors set out to change the world.’ It offered an opportunity to reignite ‘the original passion for social justice . . . that drew so many of us to sociology’ (5). Specifically, he defines public sociology as ‘bring[ing] sociology into a conversation with publics.’ It is about fostering purposeful, reflexive conversations with non-academic audiences. Similarly, policy sociology also reaches out to those beyond academia, but with the purpose of solving problems. We think 250

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about them, respectively, as shedding light on a social problem and suggesting solutions. These are both important lines of inquiry that can bring research into practice. While we can apply these frameworks to our work, we find that a social justice framework is what drives our work to be impactful beyond academia. Early on, we were inspired by scholars, mostly women of color, doing work that exposed and disrupted inequality and injustice in marginalized communities, including Kimberlé Crenshaw (1991); Pierrette Hondagneu-Sotelo (2001); Nancy Lopez (2003), Cecilia Menjívar and Leisy J. Abrego (2012) and Angela Valenzuela (1999). Others, including Paolo Freire (2007), Patricia Hill Collins (2000) and bell hooks (2000), showed us the importance of centering on the knowledge of marginalized groups. We found ourselves in theories of the flesh as the brilliance of This Bridge Called My Back spoke to our souls (Moraga and Anzaldúa 2015). We offer the Undocumented Student Equity Project (USEP) as a case study in how to do public sociology while holding tightly to ideals of social justice. In 2015, we co-founded the Undocumented Student Equity Project in collaboration with four colleagues: Edelina Burciaga, Miroslava Guzman Perez, Daniel Millán and Daisy Vazquez Vera. Our goal was not simply to spark conversation or analyze policies, but rather to advance equity for undocumented college students. With this purpose, we conducted focus groups, interviews and an online survey of undocumented students attending the University of California. In this chapter, we explore ways to advance social justice within the context of public sociology. We first offer a brief history of undocumented students’ experience in higher education to establish the impetus of the project. Tracing our research process, we show the importance of centering and continually (re)imagining how projects can inform public conversations on equity and inclusion. Throughout the project, we explicitly imagined our public as undocumented students, student affairs professionals, university administrators and educators. We aimed to identify findings that would inform the institutional policies and practices developed by these stakeholders. Throughout we deployed a social justice approach that rested on deep community collaboration, uplifting the experiential knowledge of the undocumented community and advancing equity during the research process. We contend that our project’s ability to open conversations with these publics was bolstered by our commitment to social justice and ultimately ensured that our work effected change.

Undocumented students: a brief history While a 1982 Supreme Court ruling guarantees undocumented youths’ access to K–12 education, state law governs access to higher education institutions. California has led the way in establishing policies that have opened up state colleges and universities. In 2001, California became the second state to pass legislation that provided undocumented students with access to in-state tuition rates. Known as Assembly Bill 540 (AB 540), it facilitated access for undocumented youth who had migrated before age 16 and attended at least three years of high school in the state. A decade later, in 2011, the California legislature passed the California Dream Act to provide AB 540-eligible undocumented students with access to institutional, private and state-funded financial aid at the state’s public colleges and universities. In 2014, it established the California Dream Loan program to allow undocumented students attending a participating public university to receive loans. These educational access policies mediated many of the direct and indirect financial barriers that undocumented status places on students’ pursuit of higher education. These shifts in state policy, coupled with the creation of the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program in 2012, led an increasing number of undocumented students to enroll at the nine UC undergraduate campuses. Their growing numbers fueled the 251

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continuation of undocumented student advocacy efforts, as they demanded campus and systemwide administrators develop resources to serve their unique needs. Some UC campuses had the resources to pursue these efforts on their own. In 2012, in response to undocumented student advocacy, newly appointed UC president Janet Napolitano announced the Undocumented Student Initiative, providing five million dollars over three years to support the development of undocumented student resources (UCOP 2013). This funding facilitated concerted efforts across the UC campuses to develop institutionalized resources for undocumented students. Campuses hired dedicated staff members and created undocumented student centers. They developed innovative programming to address educational, social-emotional and financial needs. As the three-year funding commitment drew to a close, undocumented students across the UC campuses launched a coordinated advocacy campaign. They asked for another multi-year funding commitment to continue the provision of these integral services. Martha was one of the students coordinating these system-wide advocacy efforts.

Imagining research that centers policy and community The idea for the Undocumented Student Equity Project emerged as Martha strategized with her peers on system-wide advocacy efforts. Attending the first annual UC undocumented student summit in spring 2015, they struggled to convince system-wide representatives of the need to systemically support undocumented student services. During the conference, Martha witnessed research and numbers being taken seriously; student stories were deemed important but insufficient. Debriefing on the summit, several attendees  – some of whom became USEP team members – expressed the dismay they felt after sharing their stories with multiple stakeholders and seeing little to no action. Martha suggested that their future advocacy might be more successful if they had empirically strong data to support their points. This left them with a significant point of reflection: how do we develop a research project that not only explores the challenges experienced by UC undocumented students, but actively works to effect change on campuses? Beginning to pursue this idea, Martha pulled together a team, two other undergraduate students and two graduate students, whom she knew to be interested in advancing equity for undocumented students. They looked for a professor to guide them, choosing Laura because some of the team members highly regarded her as someone that supported student research and carried out critical work on undocumented young adults. Importantly, all team members shared the foundational vision of conducting rigorous empirical research that valued student experiences. Given our dual positions as scholars and activists, the project has always been grounded in a desire to uplift community voices to shape equitable policy and practice. Through team conversations, we transformed our activist goals into research aims, identifying research questions: 1) What are the needs and experiences of undocumented students at the UC campuses? 2) What resources are available for students on the UC campuses? 3) What resources should exist or need to be created to best support their needs as undocumented students? This was a critical juncture where we worked to maintain our social justice goals. We purposefully centered undocumented student experiences and focused our attention on policies and practices. Like sociology more generally, previous scholars had shed light on the ‘problem’ of undocumented college students, documenting their hardships and struggles. We wanted to be 252

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sure that our participants’ sweat and tears served a higher purpose – actually effecting change rather than gracing the pages of an academic journal. With these goals in mind, we collaboratively outlined what would become the first phase of our study: conversations with each campus’s undocumented student services staff members, qualitative interviews and focus groups with undocumented students at all nine campuses and a system-wide survey of undocumented students.

Centering experiential knowledge during project development With project questions and methods solidified, we developed data collection tools – a guide for our conversations with each campus’s undocumented student services staff members, a focus group interview guide and a survey questionnaire. We intentionally built these around ‘issue areas’ that overlapped with offices around campus, ensuring that we would be able to translate our future data into actionable items to address undocumented student needs across campus. We developed materials sequentially, using the previous ones to inform the next. Throughout, we drew on the experiential knowledge of the research team and community stakeholders. First, the team collaboratively identified key areas of focus, drawing from our experiences at UC Irvine (UCI). Topics included: financial support, housing, academic experiences and retention, career plans, psychological wellness, campus resources and campus climate. Attentive to the fact that all campuses were likely unique, we sought out information about other campuses. We reviewed each undocumented student services website from the nine undergraduate UC campuses to understand what resources were available at each campus. Our internet research then informed the development of our key areas of focus as well as our conversation guide. Conversations with each campus’s undocumented student services staff members ensured that we did not assume the universality of our experiences. Our checklist guided us through conversations with each campus’s staff member, ultimately elucidating what resources were available on each campus and providing insight into each campus’s unique challenges. We also used this as an opportunity to build relationships and lay a foundation for putting our findings into action, soliciting feedback on what data would be useful for them in advocating for resources on their campus. Reporting back to the group, we revisited our list of ‘issue areas’ and revised them based on the insights of the nine undocumented student services staff members. Each team member then identified two to three issues of most interest to them and began to develop interview questions. These were then presented to the full team for feedback. We tested our questions internally, collectively reflecting on our own experiences and knowledge to consider whether questions were answerable, identify potential probes and guide our decisions to add and cut questions. These activities also built community among team members, fostering shared understandings and creating a place to heal from past injustices. After multiple revisions, we began interviewing. A few months later, after conducting about a third of the focus groups and interviews, we began survey development. We revisited and revised our list of issue areas, divided them into sections and collaboratively refined the survey. Once again, we solicited feedback from the publics we hoped to engage with the findings – faculty, staff and students – to ensure we would have the data they needed. This was a painfully slow process, as we longed to have the data so we could act on it, requiring us to frequently reaffirm the larger importance of high-quality, empirically sound data to achieve our goal of convincing stakeholders to implement equitable policies and practices. Public sociology is aimed at engaging publics, but to advance social justice, the research itself must be guided by the needs of stakeholders. In our case, this included uplifting the voices of 253

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undocumented students so that they could be prominent in conversations about themselves. Centering community members in the early stages of research ensured that we would be able to foster a relevant conversation down the line and increase buy-in among one of the publics we ultimately aimed to engage with our findings.

Advancing equity through research activities Having undocumented community members at the core of our research team simultaneously served to advance educational equity. Our findings indicated that undocumented students struggle to access professional development opportunities that prepare them for careers after college. This was something that undocumented research team members had experienced and the scope of which became clear in our data. Less than half of survey respondents had been able to access one or more professional development opportunities (see Figure 19.1). Of these, 26% reported that they had participated in an unpaid internship, 23% in a paid internship and 20% held a career-relevant job. Interview participants noted that they had sought out these opportunities but reported being denied access due to their lack of work authorization and/or permanent legal status (e.g., permanent residency or citizenship). Further, 83% of survey respondents indicated that they were considering pursuing some type of graduate education. However, substantially fewer reported having the experience needed to be competitive applicants: only 22% reported research experience, and only 28% reported strong relationships with faculty, suggesting they would not have strong letters of recommendation to accompany their applications. Less than a third expressed confidence in feeling prepared to achieve their career goals after graduation (Morales Hernandez and Enriquez 2018).

Figure 19.1  Undocumented students have limited access to postgraduate preparation (Infographic) Source: Morales Hernandez, Martha and Laura E. Enriquez. 2018. “Limited: Undocumented Students’ Postgraduate Preparation.” Undocumented Student Equity Project, Irvine, California.

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As we reflected on the accomplishments of our yearlong study, we realized that we had inadvertently created an opportunity to fill this gap and advance educational equity. Undocumented undergraduate team members engaged in a meaningful research experience – designing and carrying out a project, applying for grants, presenting at conferences and writing research papers. They received mentorship from graduate students and faculty, allowing them to learn about PhD programs, which increased their confidence to pursue graduate school. Indeed, all three undergraduate founding members enrolled in PhD programs and won competitive fellowships. Graduate student team members similarly built up their research experiences and CVs, as well as gained valuable experience mentoring undergraduate students. Our team’s work also confirmed that diverse voices are critical for generating innovative solutions and fostering inclusive discourse. In fall 2015, we launched two follow-up interview studies to further investigate survey findings about undocumented students’ mental health and academic engagement. The idea for the academic engagement study emerged between Laura and Daniel Millán, a graduate student member of the team, and was sparked by the survey data: 74% of respondents reported losing study time because they were dealing with or thinking about an issue related to their own or a family member’s immigration status, 72% were distracted in class, 62% did poorly in an exam and 51% of students missed class (see Figure 19.2). We held an open call for undergraduates to apply to the research team and ultimately selected four undergraduates, all undocumented. Much like the first team, this group was charged with developing a direction for the sub-study, including interview guide development and recruiting and conducting interviews. Their voices featured prominently in all aspects of the study, with Laura serving in an advisory capacity. The mental health sub-study was similarly sparked by the survey data: 64% of respondents reported needing mental health services, but only half had actually accessed services (see Figure 19.3). While this project team also included undocumented students, they were not the majority. Though all interviewers received similar training, the quality of the interviews varied widely. Interviewers built better rapport when they were deeply aware of the issues facing undocumented students and willing to share and discuss their own experiences with interviewees. Though undocumented team members had experiential knowledge of these struggles, citizen team members who had invested time educating themselves and working in collaboration with undocumented students also forged connections. In both cases, successful team members approached interviews with the goal of uncovering and building new knowledge together with the interviewee. They practiced empathy rather than sympathy. Although the experiences of the interviewee may not have been the same as their own, the most effective interviewers shared their experiences, which led to more honest dialogue on the strains created by exclusionary immigration policies. This humanizing approach solicited more detailed information and often led to a cathartic experience for interviewees. Recognizing this, we need to ensure that public sociology emanates from a diverse group of scholars. To achieve this, we need to continue to diversify academia, another equity issue in and of itself. Departing from a social justice framework ensured that our team could achieve this parallel goal while also conducting stronger and more impactful work.

Engaging publics: disseminating research findings in multiple forms Ultimately, we were able to carry out the project as planned. In all, 154 UC undergraduate students participated in focus groups and one-on-one interviews, with a median of 14 students per campus. The 125-question online survey was administered in spring 2016; we collected

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Figure 19.2 Undocumented students experience immigration-related distractions that hurt their academic performance (Infographic) Source: Daniel Millán, M. Liliana Ramirez and Laura E Enriquez. 2018. “Distracted: Undocumented Students’ Disrupted Academics.” Undocumented Student Equity Project, Irvine, California.

responses from 508 undocumented undergraduate students across all nine University of California undergraduate campuses, with responses from approximately 15% of each campus’s estimated undocumented student population. The academic and mental health sub-studies each garnered 30 interviews at one UC campus. The team reflected deeply on how and where to share findings. One of our earliest conversations was about the type of publications we hoped to generate and the type of conversations we hoped to spark. We discussed potential op-eds and the possibility of creating report cards for each campus so undocumented students and their families could make informed college choices. Imagining our publics and modes of conversation from project inception was critical to ensuring that we would have the data needed to engage audiences outside of the academy. Not doing so would likely have left us with less effective data, limiting our ability to contribute to conversations about equitable policies and practices.

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Figure 19.3 Undocumented students report high levels of stress and need inclusive mental health services (Infographic) Source: Biblia Cha, Laura E Enriquez, Martha Morales Hernandez and Annie Ro. 2018. “Hesitant: Undocumented Students’ Use of Mental Health Services.” Undocumented Student Equity Project, Irvine, California.

Looking back, our conversations implicitly invoked both public sociology and reciprocity to the undocumented students who had participated in our study. We focused on our desire to impact policy when deciding what aspect of the findings to first analyze and write up. We also asked ourselves crucial questions: what form of writing – a journal article, descriptive statistical data, a policy report – is going to effect change? Is providing these things to stakeholders enough, or is there a responsibility to do more? How do we ensure findings have the broadest impact possible? In all, we recognized that we needed to develop innovative ways to share our data, which would be both actionable and effective. One of the first ways that we shared our findings was to present preliminary analyses to a senior administrator at UC Irvine, our home campus. A team member learned that the administrator would be responsible for budgeting system-wide funding for the campus’s undocumented student services. Counter to our academic reflexes that longed for full data cleaning and complex analyses, we developed a two-page brief with preliminary descriptive data and recommendations to help guide the funding decision. This meeting was our first engagement with one of our core publics, and we successfully used empirical data to spark informed conversation about campus priorities and policies. Seeing the utility of these data, we generated similar data for the undocumented student services staff members on each campus. After President Trump’s election in 2016, Laura drew on these preliminary data to inform best practices for supporting students facing immigration crises. These were published with two other UCI faculty members in an op-ed for Inside Higher Education (Casavantes Bradford, Enriquez, and Coutin 2017). The team drew on our findings and these best practices to develop presentations for UCI audiences interested in advancing equity for undocumented students. These conversations guided our subsequent efforts to develop a policy report that would lay out the continuing challenges faced by UC undocumented students and could guide the administration in meeting these needs. In the midst of data analysis and writing, we faced the

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competing demands of the academy. We saw a call for a UC-wide immigration conference and submitted an abstract to present a paper. We recognized that this was not in line with our goal to focus on policy, but all team members were confronted with needing to build our CVs to become competitive graduate school applicants and job candidates or to receive tenure. In the end, academic demands prevailed pushing us to develop our first article, ‘Mediating Illegality: Federal, State, and Institutional Policies in the Educational Experiences of Undocumented College Students’ (Enriquez et al. 2019b). In between review deadlines, we advanced our policy report, often slowly, given our competing demands as students and faculty. Ultimately, we published a 14-page report with the UCLA Institute for Research on Labor and Employment entitled ‘How Can Universities Foster Educational Equity for Undocumented College Students: Lessons from the University of California’ (Enriquez et al. 2019a). They paralleled each other with the article arguing that institutional policies are an important intervention to mediate the consequences of illegality for undocumented students, with the brief illustrating policies to accomplish this. As we finalized the policy report, the team recognized that its length would likely dampen its effectiveness. Infographics seemed to be a more effective way to spark interest in key findings via social media and engage another public, particularly student activists. Shorter policy briefs would help inform conversations about specific challenges undocumented students faced and would be more digestible for busy administrators. Pulling sections out of our longer policy report, we self-published these briefs on our project website (www.undocequity.com). To date we have developed six two-page research briefs with accompanying infographics, some of which are featured earlier in this chapter. They each cover a key issue area: the importance of undocumented student services, financial need, disrupted academic performance, limited postgraduate preparation, stress and mental health and a hesitance to use mental health services. Having used these tools to participate in conversations about undocumented student equity, we have learned that public sociology does not always operate in public space, perhaps especially in the case of controversial topics like this one. We have engaged in public conversation, distributing electronic and printed versions of our policy briefs to stakeholders at the UC and beyond. We actively pursue workshop presentations and share them as relevant opportunities present themselves. These publicly visible activities spark conversation, but their effect is indeterminable. We believe our most impactful use of the data has been in partnership with the UCI Dream Center, an office dedicated to serving undocumented students through programming that helps them manage academic demands, gain professional experience and pursue personal development. Collaborating with their staff, we have used USEP data to directly inform the development of innovative programming, provide rationale in funding proposals and spur equity conversations with campus partners. Our data is used in conversations and documents that remain largely private but directly contribute to the center’s ability to carry out its mission. We often wonder whether we have advanced equity for undocumented students and done justice to the voices of undocumented students featured in our work. These are important reflections for public sociologists to consider if their work is being done in service to social justice. This conversation was first sparked when a participant emailed us a few months after participating, asking what had been done with their data. What effect had it had? We were sympathetic, having wanted a quick turnaround as well. Like the participant, we knew that academia does not particularly concern itself with the needs of those being ‘studied,’ seeking to serve researchers’ needs first. Instead of seeing undocumented people as collaborators, they are often seen as ‘interesting’ or ‘sexy’ topics of study. We knew this reality when we started the project and built the project to avoid this. Were we more like the others than we wanted to believe? 258

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Being held accountable by ourselves and others inspired us to do better, leading us to engage in conversations using only preliminary data and ultimately shaping our practice of public sociology and our reimaging of reciprocity. As researchers and community members, we need to acknowledge our multiple responsibilities as we pursue public sociology. We aspired to meet academia’s demands while advancing social justice through public sociology and guarding our own well-being in the process. Over the course of the project, we experienced change that, although positive, drew our attention elsewhere  – undergraduate team members graduated, graduate students advanced to candidacy and received their PhDs, faculty members successfully navigated pre-tenure demands. There were also setbacks: unstable funding streams for undocumented student services and the need to manage the socioemotional repercussions of the 2016 presidential election and the subsequent threats of DACA’s rescission. In our conversations, it was important to name these competing demands and allow our focus to pivot as needed. In some cases, this meant focusing on our own well-being and survival, a move sustained by Audre Lorde, ‘Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare’ (Lorde 2017:130). In others, it meant allowing ourselves to shift our planned uses for the data to meet the shifting needs of undocumented students. To guide our decisions, we established accountability within the research team to ensure we stayed true to the overarching ideals of the project. We talked openly about the complicated dynamics of building a career with research on a marginalized community; how would we avoid making a name for ourselves on the pain of others? We frequently reflected on new ways and opportunities to spark conversation and further our mission of equity and justice.

Conclusion In tracing the course of the Undocumented Student Equity Project, we have offered an example of how to do public sociology while holding tightly to ideals of social justice. The points we discussed in this paper are by no means fixed or absolute. Like any other community-based project, practice must respond to the specific needs and goals of the community. However, we hope that our reflections can inform work in other contexts. We stress that active reflection on social justice ideals throughout all research phases is key to achieving the social justice underpinnings of public sociology. To do this, we turned our sociological inquiry away from studying ‘interesting’ phenomenon and asked ourselves instead: what is important to study? To effect social justice, the research process itself must be grounded in social justice. To achieve this, our research team had to actively engage in reflection and conversation. In other words, fellow research team members became another public to engage. We drew on each other’s experiential and academic knowledge to advance the project. We collectively reflected on our positionality and goals: how were these impacting the data we collected? How could we embrace our subjectivity to strengthen our work, and how could we code-switch when engaging publics who wanted ‘objective’ data? These conversations emerged organically, often filling the hours as we grabbed lunch, traveled to conduct interviews or attended conferences. It was not until later that we recognized the importance of these conversations to keeping our social justice ideals in mind when making project decisions. In fact, we believe that most of the project unfolded naturally because of our underlying shared ideology, but continual and active reflection kept our social justice goals and scholar-activist identities strong. In the 15 years since Michael Burawoy’s presidential address to the American Sociological Association, the discipline has increasingly accepted the importance and validity of public sociology. Now, ASA president Mary Romero (2020) has called for sociology engaged in social justice. In her presidential address, she lays bare our disciplinary history, outlining how 259

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sociologists have been ‘discouraged from pursuing social justice issues and applied research’ (3). She concludes, ‘Doing sociology at this crucial time of our history, we need to be social activists and sociology must be engaged in social justice’ (25). Ultimately, ‘sociological data is wasted if our studies fail to affect public understandings of social issues or if research is not applied to improving social conditions’ (25). We hope that the next 15 years will heed her call, pushing public sociology, and the discipline as a whole, to critically engage with and promote social justice.

Acknowledgments The authors share equal authorship and are listed in alphabetical order. We are thankful for the opportunity to work with and learn from our Undocumented Student Equity Project collaborators: Dr. Edelina Burciaga, Tadria Cardenas, Yareli Castro, Biblia Cha, Vanessa Delgado, Dr. Tanya Golash Boza, Miroslava Guzman Perez, Daniel Millán, Maria Mireles, Estela Ramirez Ramirez, Dr. Annie Ro, Dr. Zulema Valdez and Daisy Vazquez Vera. Finally, we give special thanks to our participants and community partners who supported the project.

References Burawoy, Michael. 2005. “For Public Sociology.” American Sociological Review 70(1):4–28. Casavantes Bradford, Anita, Laura E. Enriquez, and Susan Bibler Coutin. 2017. “10 Ways to Support Students Facing Immigration Crises.” Inside Higher Education. Retrieved (www.insidehighered.com/ views/2017/01/31/how-faculty-members-and-administrators-can-help-immigrant-students-essay). Collins, Patricia Hill. 2000. Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment. New York: Routledge. Crenshaw, Kimberlé. 1991. “Mapping the Margins: Intersectionality, Identity Politics, and Violence Against Women of Color.” Stanford Law Review 43(6):1241–1299. Enriquez, Laura E., Edelina M. Burciaga, Tadria Cardenas, Biblia Cha, Vanessa Delgado, Miroslava Guzman Perez, Daniel Millán, Maria Mireles, Martha Morales Hernandez, Estela Ramirez Ramierez, Annie Ro, and Daisy Vazquez Vera. 2019a. How Can Universities Foster Educational Equity for Undocumented College Students: Lessons from the University of California. Los Angeles, CA: UCLA Institute for Research on Labor and Employment. Enriquez, Laura E., Martha Morales Hernandez, Daniel Millán, and Daisy Vazquez Vera. 2019b. “Mediating Illegality: Federal, State, and Institutional Policies in the Educational Experiences of Undocumented College Students.” Law and Social Inquiry 44(3):679–703. Freire, Paulo. 2007. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. New York: Continuum. Hondagneu-Sotelo, Pierrette. 2001. Domestica: Immigrant Workers Cleaning and Caring in the Shadows of Affluence. Berkeley: University of California Press. hooks, bell. 2000. Feminist Theory: From Margin to Center. Cambridge: South End Press. Lopez, Nancy. 2003. Hopeful Girls, Troubled Boys: Race and Gender Disparity in Urban Education. New York: Routledge. Lorde, Audre. 2017. A Burst of Light and Other Essays. New York: Ixia Press. Menjívar, Cecilia and Leisy J. Abrego. 2012. “Legal Violence: Immigration Law and the Lives of Central American Immigrants.” American Journal of Sociology 117(5):1380–1421. Moraga, Cherríe and Gloria Anzaldúa. 2015. This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press. Morales Hernandez, Martha and Laura E. Enriquez. 2018. “Limited: Undocumented Students’ Postgraduate Preparation.” Undocumented Student Equity Project, Irvine, CA. Ochoa, Gilda L. 2013. Academic Profiling: Latinos, Asian Americans, and the Achievement Gap. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

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Ochoa, Gilda L., Laura E. Enriquez, Sandra Hamada, and Jenniffer Rojas. 2012. “Constructing Multiple ‘Gap[s]’: Reproducing Divisions and Disparities between Asian Americans and Latinas/os in a California High School.” In Transnational Crossroads: Remapping the Americas and the Pacific, edited by C. Fojas and R. P. Guevarra Jr. Nebraska: University of Nebraska Press. Romero, Mary. 2020. “Sociology Engaged in Social Justice.” American Sociological Review 85(1):1–30. UCOP. 2013. “President Napolitano Earmarks Aid for Students, Researchers.” Retrieved (http://link. ucop.edu/2013/11/01/president-napolitano-earmarks-aid-for-students-researchers/). Valenzuela, Angela. 1999. Subtractive Schooling: U.S.-Mexican Youth and the Politics of Caring. Albany: The State University of New York Press.

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Section VI

Community as knowledge producer

Just as students are important to building knowledge, communities are equally important. Communities are, by and large, the focus of public sociology; they are the public. This section focuses on how communities create knowledge and what this means for the public sociologist. McMillan Lequieu studies a rural community to identify how this community’s ‘story’ has been built by economic boom and bust and what it means for residents. Parrot and Valentine examine the role of organic public sociology in supporting community institutions and how organic public sociological work can broaden the skill sets of public sociologists in the process. Gomez studies community efforts to develop peace and justice during a time of military conflict in Columbia. It is important to recognize the agency of publics when performing public sociology, as these are entities with individuals acting within, and as these individuals act, they produce the knowledge necessary for public sociology.

20 The everyday sociological imagination Co-creating new knowledge through story and radio Amanda McMillan Lequieu

Every day, everyday people do sociology. From quiet conversations at kitchen tables to formal political debates, from contentious protests to silent non-mobilization, everyday people are constantly seeking to define problems and find meaning within turbulent social worlds. When an unexpected disaster or previously unhoped-for possibility alters the status quo, families, neighbors and politicians alike search for new vocabularies that might offer clarity to a puzzling social moment. As people attempt to make sense of their localized experiences, they often practice what C. Wright Mills (1959:5) called a ‘sociological imagination’ – a desire to ‘know the social and historical meaning of the individual in society.’ This imagination emerges when an individual begins to see their own experience as historically (and geographically) situated and, perhaps, as representative of others in the same circumstances (Harvey 2005). With or without sociological training, everyday people grapple with incongruities between contemporary contexts and their deeply held beliefs about social differences, priorities and identities. There is a nascent sociological imagination in us all. What, then, is the role of the sociologist? How might a scholar engaged in community research facilitate locally extant reflections on ‘history and biography and the relations between the two in society’ (Mills 1959:6)? Public sociology offers space for research that brings together local and expert knowledge. The practice of public sociology varies from pragmatic and applied research reformatted for stakeholder comprehension, on one hand, to imaginative, problemdriven participatory research. In its most basic incarnation, public sociology centers on the intention of the researcher ‘to communicate with and actively engage wider audiences’ (Jeffries 2009). In its most transformative conception, public sociology empowers scholars and everyday people to work together, as Burawoy (2005:5) put it, to find ‘order in the broken fragments of modernity, seeking to salvage the promise of progress.’ Yet, instead of changing the world, Burawoy (2005:5) continues, sociologists ‘have too often ended up conserving it.’ Often well-intentioned public sociology is structured by scholardetermined definitions of problems, categorical boundaries or interpretations of social issues (Brubaker and Cooper 2000). Even transformative social projects within academia too often extract knowledge from, rather than build it with, everyday people. While academic research 265

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itself can be enriched by integrating outward-facing, community-directed projects, Stoecker (2013) grimly cautions that some communities are wary of ‘outsider academic researchers using research more to promote their own influence and prestige than to empower the communities they researched.’ In the best cases, knowledge gained from public sociology is disseminated to its population long after the research is complete; at worst, that scholarship is siloed off as one more brick for a sociologist’s ivory tower. The institutionalized rewards for self-building intellectualism have too often stripped the academic branch of sociology of its ethical compass. This chapter shows how the vision of public sociology should be grounded in both social scientific research and local sociological imaginations through community-based work to define important local social problems and participant-directed dissemination of knowledge gained. I argue that scholars can empower and enliven local discourses about sociological contexts in ways that both clarify local issues and offer new analytical frames for academic projects. In the coming pages, I contend that everyday sociological imaginations emerge from the highly social and performative process of storytelling. Particularly when crises trouble previously sufficient vocabularies of loss or opportunity, stories, both in their collective coherence and ambiguous complexities, offer insight into how certain groups of people are grappling with change. I argue that researchers can midwife the transition of sociological imaginations from stories exchanged across the kitchen table into empowered community knowledge creation. This can happen by linking narrative analysis to moments of historical crisis, adding outward-facing, communitydirected projects onto existing academic research, and utilizing locally appropriate methods to both develop and disseminate knowledge. I show how academics pursuing traditional scholarly research might engage both ends of the spectrum of public sociology, creating both accessible and transformative knowledge with and for the communities who are themselves the subject of research. Indeed, the ‘strangeness’ of the researcher’s presence in a study location makes scholars well positioned to draw study participants into deeper conversations about social problems. To make this contribution, I offer examples from a radio podcast project addended to my dissertation research in a rural Rust Belt community. This public sociology project aimed to bring individuals’ perceptions of the boom, bust and possible renewal of iron mining in their community into the context of broader debates about economic marginalization and future growth. Using high-quality recording equipment, I gathered, edited and distributed participants’ narratives over local radio. I conclude this chapter by discussing the successes and challenges of engaging sociological imaginations toward knowledge production. With the communities we study, we can search for patterns within the endless churning of modernity and change and, in the process, trace the links between biography and history.

Engaging the everyday sociologist: three approaches How can scholars build on the existing sociological imagination of communities in order to better produce knowledge about – and with – that community? The production of sociological knowledge involves gathering facts, recognizing patterns, testing or creating theories and finding arenas of both consensus and conflict (Burawoy 2005). Central to such knowledge production is discourse. Through conversation, members of a community engage their sociological imagination when they work to define problems that have not been fully solved, articulate questions that are yet to be fully answered, or delineate gaps between social ideals and social reality. When a particular issue is perceived by a large proportion of the public to be a systemic problem that is worthy of discussion, public attention, and eventual resolution, that issue is defined as a social problem. By enabling certain conversations, researchers can help communities move their emerging sociological imaginations toward new knowledge creation. 266

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I propose three ways that researchers can facilitate these productive conversations, moving from the theoretical to the intensely pragmatic. First, academic researchers can build knowledge with everyday social actors through understanding conversation as story. Storytelling is not just construction of self, it is an inherently social act often aimed at constructing social problems (Polletta et al. 2011; Riessman 1993). When considering the past, people do not mechanically recite facts or chronicle events. Storytellers choose a particular beginning and ending to their story, emphasize the experiences of certain characters more than others and leap over ‘manifold scales of space and time’ to make legible complex relationships (Bland and Bell 2007:262). People narrate experiences ‘in a setting or scene and in the unfolding of a plot with characters who act and react in particular ways’ (Peters and Franz 2012). Wertsch (2004:50) argues that to tell stories that are comprehensible to their audiences, individuals tend to select ‘from a “stock of stories” ’ that have been fashioned and maintained over time within a specific social context. By systematically paying attention to narrative arcs and themes in participant conversations, scholars can trace the routinized vocabularies of localized ‘deep stories’ that frame contemporary concerns and inflect possible futures (Hochschild 2016). Social scientific analysis of qualitative data – specifically interviews or oral histories – as story can be fruitful for local communities facing crises, disasters or other ‘cultural traumas’ (Alexander, Jacobs, and Smith 2012). A crisis of loss, such as an economic crash or an environmental disaster, troubles that ‘stock of stories’ and erases familiar landscapes upon which the narratives were initially constructed. Conversely, the analysis of storytelling is insightful in moments of opportunity. From a new company arriving in a town to proposed environmental interventions to an influx of middle-class immigrants into a neighborhood, crises of opportunity also erode shared motifs of meaning. When either loss or opportunity emerges, people may find themselves in an unnarratable moment. For instance, in his classic ethnography of a flash flood that destroyed a coal mining town in West Virginia in the 1970s, Kai Erikson observed that ‘one can learn something about the cultural history of a people by watching the way they cope with the ambiguities built into their cultural terrain’ (Erikson 1976:250). There is much to be learned about how people cope with new ambiguities by analyzing how they rearrange their stories to explain their concerns, values or fears in an altered landscape. In moments when the dominant storytelling framework no longer fits everyday life, and the interrelationship between the ‘most intimate features of the human self ’ and ‘the most impersonal and remote transformations’ erodes, the everyday sociological imagination emerges (Mills 1959:6). When all or most members of a community are coping from loss or contemplating opportunity, new stories and vocabularies are required to situate a current experience within a wider context. Scholarly researchers, equipped with knowledge of the broader sociohistorical context of a community, are uniquely positioned to ignite an empowered, organized and sociological community conversation. By remaining attuned to how crisis is reorienting the arcs, characters and priorities of storytellers, academics can use frameworks of narrative analysis to trace the evolution of community-wide stories. Second, I contend that academic research itself is improved by integrating outward-facing, community-directed projects into broader agendas. The ‘strangeness’ of the academic project can help create new vocabularies for communities in crisis and new categories of analysis for researchers (Simmel 1971). Typically, an academic researcher will be an outsider to a community – a separate (though hopefully not unwelcome) member of the group, ignorant of the assumed and embedded histories, main characters, code words or other storytelling shortcuts. Willing participants in the scholar’s research will need to translate and clarify ideas, priorities and problems in order to effectively communicate their experiences. Such clarified vocabularies can enable participants to precisely explicate points of consensus and conflict about local crises and aid the researcher in identifying dominant social problems for analysis. This outsider status 267

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makes the traditional academic research project an excellent launching point for public sociology projects (e.g. Allen 1999; Collins 2007; Vaccaro 2018). Finally, researchers can facilitate the productive development of the extant social imagination by using locally appropriate methods for knowledge creation and dissemination. Strategies of information gathering should be smoothly integrated into existing social norms for interaction and sociological imagination sharing. Researchers must note how stories are told, how narratives are reproduced and how crises and problematic social issues are being addressed. These methods should reflect multiple perspectives and voices and include interactive ways to gather participants around a central question or problem. At the same time, methods of knowledge dissemination should build on local avenues of communication. Certain forms of communication may be more relevant or accessible in certain settings than others. An engaged public sociologist can stand on the edges of a social moment and, through both the storytelling process and the dissemination of its sociological lessons, facilitate deeper dialogue between community members about their most pressing social problems.

The case and its dual crises I implemented a public sociology project in one of the cases central to my dissertation research – a former mining county in Wisconsin named Iron County. Once home to several deep-shaft iron mines that contributed to the Lake Superior Mining District’s regional iron exports, the county is now a symbol of the post-industrial crises of prolonged depopulation and economic depression. Since the closure of its last mine in 1962, Iron County has lost one-third of its population. Today, fewer than 6,000 people – the vast majority white and working class – populate the 758 square miles of Iron County (U.S. Census Bureau 2015). The northern third of the county was the hardest hit by closure, with the school districts in Hurley, one of only two incorporated towns in the mining region of this rural county, enrolling fewer than 600 students. Hurley and its villages are bordered to the east by Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and to the north by Lake Superior. Few employment opportunities and geographical remoteness make life challenging for people living in one of the poorest counties in the state. If this 20th-century mine closure was a crisis of loss, a possible reintroduction of the mining industry caused a crisis of opportunity. In 2011, a large company proposed to open a $1.5 billion, four-mile taconite iron strip mine (Wenzel 2011). This proposal was quickly followed by a volatile conflict – a crisis of community that splintered along lines of race, class and politics. On one side, many white residents of Iron County were hopeful that this familiar form of industry might be a solution to their economic marginalization. The Iron County leadership rapidly passed resolutions to lower local, bureaucratic barriers for the new mining industry, and the county economic development organization optimistically predicted this new mine would cause ‘the same economic benefits and revitalization of northern Wisconsin jobs and industry as it was in 1885’ (Anon 2015). On the other side, leaders of the nearby Bad River Ojibwe Tribe articulated concerns about likely water pollution from any new mining. A tribe leader argued that even though the reservation had a 60% unemployment rate, ‘we would rather have clean water than jobs’ (Wenzel 2011). Conflict emerged along lines of political difference as well. Republican-leaning Iron County resented the influx of environmental activists and students from a liberal arts college in a neighboring Democratic county to the proposed mining site. The mine conflict was a crisis of opportunity that brought to the surface contradictory narratives and nascent sociological imaginations. State and national news outlets explained the fraught debate as a classic case of conflict between politically conservative, pro-jobs factions and environmentally minded activists and indigenous leaders (Kaufman 2014; Pierce 268

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and Schott 2012; Richmond 2013). This jobs-versus-the-environment framing reappeared when the mining company withdrew its application for the taconite mine in 2014, contending that the infeasibility of remediating wetlands per the Environmental Protection Agency’s regulations removed the possibility of new jobs (Verburg 2014). However, on the ground, this binary definition of the social problem did not ring true. In my research in Iron County, I found more complex narratives emerging in early expressions of the region’s extant sociological imagination  – in regular public forums, newspaper editorials and radio talk show debates. In the two years following the cancellation of the mine, I conducted historical and interviewbased research on the long-term impacts of deindustrialization among the white working class in Iron County. In open-ended interviews conducted over three extended field visits, occurring between August 2015 and July 2016, I found residents’ sociological imaginations centered around two crises: the crisis of loss due to the ending of iron mining in the 1960s and the crisis of opportunity of the mine proposal. Most white residents lived in the region only because their grandparents’ generation migrated to the iron mines as laborers. The past economic boom from mining contrasted with the poverty, unemployment and isolation many residents were experiencing. Yet, interviewees also noted how their personal biographies were situated within broader patterns of change across the United States: first, the boom of natural resource extraction; then the bust of company closure and deindustrialization and, most recently, conflicts between economic development and environmental regulations. In one-on-one and small group interviews, people grappled with incongruities between contemporary contexts and their deeply held beliefs about social differences, values and identities. Interviewees were trying to make sense of their changing social world. Although I entered this community intent to demystify patterns of rural residential stability in the face of prolonged economic depression, I grew dissatisfied with anonymized interviews as my primary method of inquiry. The traditional qualitative research process I used for my academic project seemed to reproduce the isolation participants were already experiencing during a crisis when public conversation was needed more than ever. Typical models of public sociology, where the researcher shares results after the study is completed, would come too late and be too detached from the sociological work that everyday people were already doing. Forms of public engagement already happening in Iron County (e.g., meetings, media) seemed to privilege voices already in leadership (Stella 2015). The community itself needed to produce its own knowledge about their changing stories and prioritized social problems. Over multiple visits to this field site, I facilitated a community-wide conversation through a public storytelling project. I developed this project with input from key stakeholders in Iron County and, based on their suggestions, disseminated the final product – a short podcast – on a local AM radio station. The project expanded my social scientific understanding of how local people were situating localized experiences within broader social histories. I turn now to how I planned this project and conclude with a discussion of its successes and challenges.

Designing projects for knowledge production The conception of this project began with a consideration of locally appropriate dissemination. In interviews, I noticed people referred to three forms of media in their remote county, in order of importance: newspapers, AM radio and internet. Most interviewees subscribed to one or both of the local newspapers that have been in circulation since the early 1900s. Radio was popular and surprisingly democratic. Several interviewees hosted local radio shows. Since there was, at that time, little wireless broadband in this rural county, internet access was limited. Even without 269

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consistent internet access, however, people did use social media sites, such as Facebook groups, with some frequency (i.e., such as the perennially popular, ‘You know you grew up in [city/region] if. . . ’ pages). At the conclusion of this project, I used all three mediums – radio to share the result and newspapers and social media to announce key information about the broadcast. Next, I selected when to arrange for a field visit to maximize participation. Several stakeholders recommend timing a public sociology project during an event around which locals centered their social calendars – the Heritage Festival. This two-week summer event included the county fair, class reunions, parades and organized outings and drew hundreds of former residents returning to visit friends and family. I decided to prepare a radio broadcast based on stories recorded at the Heritage Festival events and planned a field visit that coincided with these events. Then I  integrated this outward-facing project onto my existing academic research. First, with feedback from key stakeholders in this community, I developed a project proposal in order to gain funding by a University of Wisconsin grant purposed with enabling publicly oriented academic research. Then with support from my university’s Institutional Review Board staff, I  expanded my human subjects’ protocols to include written consent to use real names and identifying information for the radio project. Participants could opt out of the radio project and simply offer consent to be part of my dissertation project (with anonymized names and changed identifying information) or ask not to be recorded or included in either public or academic projects. Within my revised human-subject protocol, I also recruited participants for the radio project using different methods than for my broader dissertation. I advertised via community Facebook groups and in announcements in the local newspapers. In advance of my field visit, I gained approval from a local radio station to have the final edited audio recordings broadcast during one of their most popular talk show hours after the project was complete. The week of the Heritage Festival, I rented high-quality, audio recording equipment – a H2 Zoom digital audio recorder, with microphone attachments – and printed prompts, such as questions, photographs, and maps of the region. I asked community members for stories in response to open-ended questions that were suggested by stakeholders involved in developing this project. Questions ranged from ‘What is the best future for Iron County?’ to ‘What do you wish other people knew about your home county?’ to ‘Where are your favorite places?’ Prepared with this setup, I spent hours with people exploring the local historical society, attended multiple class reunions and parades and set up an oral history booth at the Iron County, Wisconsin, county fair. I also offered non-audio-based forms of communication, sharing memories or sentiments on small cards or identifying special locations on a large map of the region with pushpins. Across these events, I recorded 30 stories with 23 signed consent forms for the radio broadcast, and I had more than 50 informal conversations with residents and visitors. All participants were white; approximately half were former residents visiting for the Heritage Festival events, and all but five interviewees were over the age of 55. After the event, I analyzed non-audio documents and listened to the recorded stories for emerging and persistent themes. I paid attention to both common narrative arcs and to deviations. Using an iterative, open coding process, I selected quotes that defined social problems using vocabularies that most Iron County listeners would recognize as representative of local perspectives. When I faced contradictory quotes, I triangulated them against other forms of data I had been gathering for this project (historical, statistical and longer interviews). As I will describe momentarily, I broadened my codes for these points of divergence in order to assess higher levels of problem definition, historical interpretation, translations between individual experience and impersonal contexts. Then I  wrote and recorded my own narration of the

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broader social context for participants’ quotes and then edited the audio into a ten-minute broadcast for the local radio station. If participants provided written consent, I used their real names as part of this broadcast. In April 2017, the podcast was aired on the ‘Sam in the Morning’ show on WJMS AM. Later that week, I was invited to call in and answer questions about the project live on the air. This podcast and the subsequent radio interview remain available to the public via the Iron County Historical Society’s web presence and an academic blog hosted by the University of Wisconsin. Both web programs aim to empower people to bridge their past, present, and future through collective storytelling.

Discussion: common themes and divergence The radio project offered former and current residents an opportunity to exercise their nascent sociological imaginations and narrate their individual experiences of boom and bust in light of the possible future economic development of their home region. As I listened to recordings and made choices regarding how to edit residents’ stories into a coherent podcast, a few common themes and challenges emerged. First, the crisis of mine closure was the consistent climax for nearly all participants’ narratives. Individual experiences shared into the recorder easily mapped onto the historical context of boom and bust. For instance, at the Iron County Historical Society Open House, I spoke with Gardy, a teacher in Minnesota. Although he has lived away from Iron County since youth, he comes back most summers to visit friends and family in the region. Into a recorder, he recalled a Hurley that looked – and sounded – very different than what he sees today. Gardy’s ‘earliest recollections were of the ore trains going through. The ore trains just ran and ran and ran, throughout the night.’ Gardy and his brother would sit on a hill behind their company house to watch the cars haul ore to the Ashland, Wisconsin, ore dock – a mile-long freight rail bridge into Lake Superior. There, freighters owned by specific steel mills loaded the raw materials and began their journeys east and south through the Great Lakes. But when the mine closed in 1962, and the railroad tracks were pulled up, in 2013, the mile-long dock was demolished. These moments of irreparable disconnection were morally and economically devastating for Iron Countians. Gardy recalled his father telephoning him in the 1990s to grimly announce, ‘They tore up the tracks. Hurley’s dead.’ Similarly, Brian explained that, in the 1950s, his parents rented a little house owned by the company. The mining company was a fairly benevolent organization, a much nicer than the others. They didn’t have to be. So, in the 30s and 40s and 50s, it was a very nice place to live. His story followed the familiar boom-bust framework. Of course, the high point of the population of this area was close to 15,000, now the whole county is only 7,000 roughly. Iron County has the highest rate of unemployment in the state. Not the poorest county, but one of the poorest. And, I believe the oldest, there is a lot of people over 65 that live here. It’s hard to find a job. Again and again, I found one narrative arc deeply established and routinely drawn upon: a good past (‘those good days,’ as one participant quipped) contrasted with the troubled present (economic decline, job loss and disconnection). These narratives worked because they had been

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tested against broader contexts, rehearsed in community settings and clearly defined as social problems. Tales of boom and bust were the heart of Iron County’s ‘stock of stories’ (Wertsch 2004). Statistical data, economic performance and even the remote landscape of Iron County all reiterate that, in the six decades since mine closure, this former mining community has contracted. As I analyzed and edited participant stories into a radio program, it was clear that any radio project had to incorporate this internalized arc of boom and bust. A notable challenge  – and one rich with analytical promise  – emerged not from these shared stories but from the discordant ones. The broken promise of the mine, proposed in 2011 and cancelled in 2014, seemed to have activated another set of vocabularies  – a riskier set of discourses that centered on differences, identities under threat and incongruities between contemporary contexts and deeply held beliefs about self and others. In facing this dual crisis of opportunity and loss, former and current residents were doing sociological work to redefine values, question boundaries and re-interpret taken-for-granted social problems. My challenge was balancing my multiplicity of roles – as social scientist, facilitator of sociological imagination development and radio broadcast editor – to interpret and disseminate themes (in a qualitative coding sense) that reflected the complexity of social life as accurately as possible. This challenge was expressed in two ways. First, and most simply, the proposed mine called into question the established narrative of the ‘good past, troubled present’ by highlighting complex emotions about the issue. Few participants in this public sociology project expressed strong approval or disapproval of the mine. Many expressed puzzlement and ambivalence about it instead. For example, Nancy shared, ‘I think [the new mine] excited people because we are so desperate for jobs. Again, you do have environmental concerns, but I think the prospect on the economic boost was good.’ She paused, wrestling internally. ‘I was for it and against it at the same time.’ Back at the Iron County Historical Society, Gardy expressed similar ambivalence. ‘As far as the future goes, my gosh, what does it hold? I was so hopeful when they were talking about getting the mines going here again and all that, and people were just so ready for this!’ He paused, and then added, ‘But we can’t be miners anymore, Hurley. It’s not going to be it as once was. What could happen here? What kind of industry can flourish here?’ Certainly, some people viewed new mining as the best, if not ideal, solution to the persistent problems already defined in the common, deindustrialization narrative. Joe looked wary when I asked about it at a class reunion, but he conceded My dream would be to get that mine going up here, you know. It’s an open pit, it’s not a deep shaft mining – a lot safer than the underground mines. Because I worry about my grandkids, I really do. What are they going to do? They can’t stay around here. In fact, all of our bright kids that graduated from high school are no longer around here. They’re gone. There’s nothing for us here. Marty was more enthusiastic about his view that the new mine was an environmental and economic risk worth taking. ‘Is it an opportunity for a number of people? Yes. Does everybody want to do it?’ He paused and shrugged, as if answering his own question with ambivalence, before continuing. ‘Why not? There’s an opportunity for some people to do it and stay here, and some people may come back home.’ And yet, other people resented the very conflict wrought by the proposal of a new mine on the community. Outmigration, economic depression and other symptoms of deindustrialization already had weakened social ties in the county. Laura, for instance, expressed anger at how the new mine further separated her fragile and aging home community. ‘It torn the town 272

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apart,’ Laura groaned. ‘It tore the area apart!’ These narratives of ambivalence and puzzlement about the future posed a welcome challenge to the familiar narrative of the white working class support of a new mine in this region. Complex opinions emerged consistently enough that I deemed it fruitful to include a few examples of them in the final podcast. I discuss these narrative choices at the end of this section. However, a second category of discordant stories emerged that proved more challenging for me to navigate. For certain participants, any emotional discord between neighbors and friends was overshadowed by their feelings about interactions with ‘outsiders’ across the larger region. The participants (notably, all men) who discussed the disharmony between Iron County and environmental activists shared their opinions with me with veiled animosity. For example, Dennis grumbled that ‘they’ve been trying to open a mine there and the environmentalists are against it.’ He went on to describe environmentalists as interlopers who failed to engage in any meaningful conversation with Iron County representatives in the pursuit of their own interests. Likewise, Marty criticized vandalism at a mine probing site that resulted in the arrest of an environmental activist, arguing, ‘You can’t do things that are destructive and expect us to not respond.’ Only two participants openly wrestled with the long legacy of inequality between the Bad River Ojibwe Tribe and white Iron Countians. For instance, Thomas admitted, ‘The old dirty secret of Hurley is that there aren’t any Indians in Hurley.’ He clutched his drink in the noisy room of an all-class reunion during Iron County’s Heritage Festival and motioned for me and his friend Phil to lean closer. He softly murmured, ‘Even during the wars, and every able-bodied person was working in the mine night and day – there weren’t any Indians working in the mine.’ His voice dropped even more as he whispered, ‘It was against the union rules. The owners and the unions colluded so you can’t find written documents about it.’ His friend and former classmate, Phil, grimaced and shook his head emphatically. He countered with a different explanation for exclusion. ‘They all lived on their reservations and they are provided for, so, they didn’t look for outside employment. They could’ve left if they wanted to.’ Thomas inclined his head slightly and quickly attempted to qualify what his friend had told me, ‘Many of them went . . . West. They didn’t come to this area. I mean it wasn’t. . . ’ – Thomas looked pointedly at his friend – ‘when I was a kid, [it wasn’t] active antagonism. It’s just they weren’t mentioned. Right?’ Phil nodded in agreement as Thomas continued, ‘It’s just like they weren’t there. They’re only 30 miles away but they weren’t mentioned. They weren’t part of the program here. So, it’s not like it was some kind of active nastiness.’ Whether or not Thomas and Phil’s hypotheses for why the nearby tribe was historically excluded from the economic boom of 20th century iron mining were accurate, both men were trying to make sense of a little discussed social difference. Instigated by their community’s contemporary conflicts with the tribe over new mining and the risk of water pollution, these men were exploring a little-acknowledged story line of their community’s social narrative. By contrasting familiar assumptions about the tribe with unanswered questions, Phil and Thomas were engaging their everyday sociological imagination by trying to find their individual places within a complicated social situation. The process of selecting what stories of self and community to include in public sociology projects is a normative one. During times when established narratives are under threat, explicitly addressing social difference within a community can be at once deeply meaningful and particularly risky. Should we, as public sociologists, stoke fires of difference? How does the final product of a public sociology project – in this case, a very public radio program – constrain what kinds of knowledge we midwife into being? Indeed, as I turned from data gathering to narrative reconstruction for the purposes of constructing a radio program, I faced the challenging 273

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decision of how to represent these diverse and, at times, contradictory perspectives on both the proposed mine and the role of outsiders. I relied primarily on the qualitative method principle of saturation to guide the selection of content for the final radio program. As the ‘stranger’ listening to many stories, I was in a position to identify and ensure the representation of themes that were repeated frequently by participants across units of data. In addition to the narrative arc of boom and bust, the theme of ambivalence concerning the new mine quickly achieved saturation, emerging so frequently in analysis that I  shifted my coding scheme away from identifying each divergent perspective and toward a general code concerning the future of the region. The multiple, alternative and, at times, selfcontradictory opinions on the proposed mine shared in common a shift in narrative arc from the current ‘troubled times’ to a complex but hesitantly hopeful vision of a better future. In contrast, the theme of political or racial difference articulated by a handful of participants did not achieve saturation. That social scientific reason alone was cause for me to not use direct quotations about race- and class-based differences in the final radio project. However, in my narration and selection of quotations for the radio project, I attempted to represent the core concern driving these few stories. Behind the animosity and othering, I saw a theme of tension between external forces and a threatened internal collective. Outsiders, broadly writ, seemed to further fuel internal conflict in ways that illuminated the weakening social cohesion of the old guard of Iron County. In a landscape marked more by crisis than stability, many participants wished to emphasize the flickering light of local solidarity by pointing to the looming shadows of outsider interference.

Conclusion Developing a new story line far more complex than the simple ‘jobs-versus-environment’ conflict portrayed in media, participants in this project attempted not only to make sense of their individual position in broader society but also to offer visions for what it means to be part of a community in crisis. From feedback gathered with the help of key stakeholders at the Iron County Historical Society and online via locally thematic Facebook pages, I learned that many Iron Countians felt that this radio project accurately reflected the shared narrative arc of boom, bust, ambiguity and desire for greater social cohesion. Participants found that this radio project reflected the tension experienced by long-term residents and the people who come back home to visit: they live caught between an undetermined future and a past that was, by many measures, better than the present (though certainly not entirely, nor for all). Crises of loss and opportunity require individual and group reflection on the deep stories, identity claims, definitions of social problems and boundary markers that once animated a common narrative. As new opportunities disrupt the predominant narratives of boom and bust, everyday people who love their home regions are faced with the challenge of adjusting their nascent sociological imaginations as they situate new personal experiences within uncharted social contexts. This chapter challenges scholars to engage the extant sociological imaginations of participants in existing research projects. Scholars have unique opportunities to offer insight into how contemporary issues situate in past and present social inequalities. Incorporating an outwardfacing, community-based project into pre-existing academic research can be an effective way to capitalize on the inevitable ‘strangeness’ of the academic project and offer analysis on new narratives. Taking seriously how communities can and should produce their own knowledge will further root both community and scholarly work in the sociological imagination – a deepening of analysis and application that only enriches the public sociological project. 274

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References Alexander, Jefferey C., Ronald Jacobs, and Philip Smith. 2012. “Introduction: Cultural Sociology Today.” In The Oxford Handbook of Cultural Sociology. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Allen, Patricia. 1999. “Reweaving the Food Security Safety Net: Mediating Entitlement and Entrepreneurship.” Agriculture and Human Values 16:11–229. Anon. 2015. Mining. Hurley, WI: Iron County Economic Development Zone. Retrieved May 27, 2016 (http://ironcountywi.com/mining-2/). Bland, William L. and Michael Mayerfield Bell. 2007. “A Holon Approach to Agroecology.” International Journal of Agricultural Sustainability 5(4):280–294. Brubaker, Rogers and Frederick Cooper. 2000. “Beyond ‘Identity’.” Theory & Society 29:1–47. Burawoy, Michael. 2005. “For Public Sociology.” American Sociological Review 70(1):4–28. Collins, Patricia Hill. 2007. “Going Public Doing the Sociology That Had No Name.” Pp. 101–113 in Public Sociology: Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Profession in the Twenty-First Century, edited by D. Clawson, R. Zussman, J. Misra, N. Gerstel, R. Stokes, D.L. Anderson, and M. Burawoy. Oakland: University of California Press. Erikson, Kai. 1976. Everything in Its Path: Destruction of Community in the Buffalo Creek Flood. New York: Simon and Shuster. Harvey, David. 2005. “The Sociological and Geographical Imaginations.” International Journal of Politics, Culture and Society 18(3–4):211–255. Hochschild, Arlie Russell. 2016. Strangers in Their Own Land: Anger and Mourning on the American Right. New York: The New Press. Jeffries, Vincent. 2009. Handbook of Public Sociology. New York: Rowman & Littlefield. Kaufman, Dan. 2014. “The Fight for Wisconsin’s Soul.” New York Times, March 29. Retrieved April 1, 2014 (www.nytimes.com/2014/03/30/opinion/sunday/the-fight-for-wisconsins-soul.html). Mills, C. W. 1959. The Sociological Imagination. New York: Oxford University Press. Peters, Scott and Nancy Franz. 2012. “Stories and Storytelling in Extension Work.” Journal of Extension 50(4). Retrieved October 2, 2012 (https://joe.org/joe/2012august/a1.php). Pierce, Justin R. and Peter K. Schott. 2012. “The Surprisingly Swift Decline of US Manufacturing Employment.” National Bureau of Economic Research Working Paper 18655:1–43. Retrieved October 2, 2012 (www.nber.org/papers/w18655). Polletta, Francesca, Pang Ching Bobby Chen, Beth Gharrity Gardner, and Alice Motes. 2011. “The Sociology of Storytelling.” Annual Review of Sociology 37(1):109–130. Richmond, Todd. 2013. “Assembly Passes Controversial Mining Bill.” Wisconsin State Journal, March 8. Retrieved March  9, 2013 (https://madison.com/wsj/news/local/govt-and-politics/assembly-passescontroversial-mining-bill/article_8444d31e-8761-11e2-92df-0019bb2963f4.html). Riessman, Catherine Kohler. 1993. Narrative Analysis. Newbury Park, CA: Sage Publications. Simmel, Georg. 1971. “The Stranger.” Pp. 143–149 in On Individuality and Social Forms: Selected Writings, edited by D.N. Levine. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Stella, Anthony. 2015. “GTAC Deal Is a Bad One for Iron County, Residents.” The Daily Globe, February 10. Retrieved March 15, 2015 (www.yourdailyglobe.com/story /2015/02/10/opinion/gtac-dealis-a-bad-one-for-iron-county-residents/4331.html) Stoecker, Randy. 2013. Research Methods for Community Change: A Project-Based Approach. 2nd ed. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications. U.S. Census Bureau. 2015. “Iron County, Wisconsin.” QuickFacts. Retrieved September 13, 2016 (www. census.gov/quickfacts/table/PST045215/55051). Vaccaro, Christian. 2018. “Of Pigs and Public Sociology.” Contexts. Retrieved April 12, 2019 (https:// contexts.org/blog/of-pigs-and-public-sociology/). Verburg, Steven. 2014. “Huge Mine May Shrink Away from Ashland County, Gogebic Taconite Says.” Wisconsin State Journal, September  5. Retrieved September  6, 2014 (https://madison.com/wsj/ news/local/environment/huge-mine-may-shrink-away-from-ashland-county-gogebic-taconite-says/ article_0a3bebbe-6794-52f8-bd4e-36d7330d55cf.html). 275

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Wenzel, Patti. 2011. “Mining for Compromise: Bill Favors GTac, Promises New Jobs.” Urban Milwaukee, December  19. Retrieved December  20, 2011 (https://urbanmilwaukee.com/2011/12/19/ mining-for-compromise-bill-favors-gtac-promises-new-jobs/) Wertsch, James V. 2004. “Specific Narratives and Schematic Narrative Templates.” Pp. 49–62 in Theorizing Historical Consciousness, edited by P. Seixas. Toronto: University of Toronto Press.

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21 Lessons from the field Helping victim-services community organizations produce knowledge Heather Parrott and Colby Valentine

In advocating for public sociology, former ASA president Michael Burawoy distinguished between traditional public sociology and organic public sociology (Burawoy 2005). Traditional public sociology engages with the community outside of the academy while still pursuing ‘scholarship and professional activities . . . driven by interests and priorities of the discipline’ (Nyden, Nyden, and Hossfeld 2012). Organic public sociology, on the other hand, is more collaborative; community members and academics work together to create knowledge. We, sociologist Heather Parrott and criminologist Colby Valentine, are founding members of the Long Island Applied Research Center (LI-ARC), a multi-disciplinary collection of professors with the mission of mobilizing our academic expertise to help community organizations. While the professors in LI-ARC come from a wide variety of fields, sociologists engaged in these community research projects can label their research projects community-based research, applied sociology or organic public sociology. LI-ARC members partner with community organizations to develop research projects and collect data that practitioners see as important to their work. These projects are collaborations where we have attempted to merge community-based knowledge and academic knowledge in ways that both benefit the community and contribute to our respective disciplines. Over the past three years, we have been collaborating with two non-profit, communitybased organizations that work with trauma victims – one larger, established organization with consistent funding revenues and one smaller, grassroots organization in need of funding. The process of working with these agencies has been similar, yet the success of these research endeavors has differed dramatically. The work with the smaller, underfunded organization has led to meaningful community partnerships that extend beyond the agency, including assistance with establishing a countywide Anti-Human Trafficking Task Force as research partners on a federal grant. The research with the larger organization has failed to get off the ground, despite seemingly productive meetings with organizational leaders and multiple attempts to collect data. In this chapter, we reflect on these two different examples to discuss the process, challenges and opportunities of establishing community partnerships and helping community organizations produce knowledge through data-driven research.

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Process: public sociology and the role of the academic The process of organic public sociology research is far more collaborative than traditional research projects. Community members must be seen as partners, rather than mere subjects, gatekeepers or key informants. This requires academics to take on a very different role, one that requires flexibility, power-sharing and sensitivity to the lives (needs, restrictions, frustrations) of community research partners (Arnold et al. 2019; Lucero et al. 2018; Suarez-Balcazar, Harper, and Lewis 2005; Ward et  al. 2018). Based on our experiences with LI-ARC, drawing specifically on the two victim-service agency examples, we outline our public sociology research process here.

Initial contact Community-based projects through LI-ARC have started in a variety of ways  – we have reached out to organizations, organizations have contacted us (news of free research travels fast!) or research discussions have started organically at community events. For example, we reached out to the larger organization to see if they had any research needs but met members of the smaller organization at a gala for another non-profit community organization.

Identification of research needs The first real step in the research relationship is to meet with key members of the agency to discuss their organizational needs. Rather than approaching the agency with a discipline-driven research idea, as would occur with traditional research, the direction of the research is driven by the organization. This is the first step in building trust with the agency, a key component to community-based research (Murray and Welch 2010: Suarez-Balcazar et al. 2005; Sullivan et al. 2013). We genuinely try to understand organizational needs; we value the diverse expertise of community partners (as community leaders, organizers, advocates, evaluators, etc.) and only explore research topics that excite our community partners. This organization-centered approach is important, since community-based research projects are more successful if community partners guide and take ownership of the projects, as compared to when such projects are spearheaded by academics (Evans et al. 2001). Our initial meeting with the larger organization included Parrott (i.e., researcher) and three directors of the community agency (the two co-executive directors and the educational director). At this meeting, the organization representatives described the variety of programs within the organization, and we discussed a broad range of research ideas, including an assessment of their transitional housing program, research on their use of various forms of therapy (i.e., play therapy, yoga and massage therapy) and a study on the impact of trauma on health. The meeting with the smaller organization included a discipline-diverse group of four faculty, both of us included, and the four founding members of the organization. This meeting focused on the immediate needs of the organization, updated intake forms (i.e., qualitative and quantitative), an electronic database and future wish list including a short film about their work, specifically the problem of human trafficking on Long Island. In both meetings, there was a common understanding of the importance of data for the sake of grants and other funding opportunities. Such funding was needed for maintenance and growth of the larger organization and the survival of the smaller one.

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Topic The process of choosing a research topic can take multiple meetings, phone calls or emails with the organization. The topic chosen is often based on what the organization would like to know (such as how well a program functions, the effectiveness of a particular service or the extent of a social problem in the area) and/or the perception of grant availability. As academics, we can help fill gaps in the organization’s knowledge, through literature reviews and grant-database searches, and inform them of holes in the academic literature on topics of interest. For example, after reviewing the smaller organization’s intake form, we noticed there were several questions that asked about jail experiences among their youth offender clientele, several that focused specifically on visitation. The majority of research on visitation in the criminological literature examines the relationship between prison visitation, inmate behavior and re-entry outcomes (for reviews, see Cochran and Mears 2013; Mitchell et al. 2016). While more individuals annually pass through jails than prisons, information on the extent and effect of jail visitation has received much less empirical attention. The limited research that exists focuses on the effect of visitation on parents (Hairston 1991; Martin and Phaneuf 2018) or the relationship between visitation and inmate misconduct (Pierce et al. 2018). An opportunity then developed to expand on prior research by assessing whether visitation influences attitudinal outcomes of young adult inmates within a county jail (manuscript in progress). Findings from this study have the potential to generate implications for research and policy aimed at understanding visitation during incarceration. This study is a small piece of the larger focus of community-based research, but fills a hole in academic literature, can provide useful data for those working with inmates and can affect policy decisions surrounding visitation during incarceration. At LI-ARC, our process has been to strategically reach out to potential co-researchers once the topic becomes more solidified. For example, once it became clear that the larger organization was interested in assessing the extent to which their services mitigate the negative effects of childhood trauma on health, Parrott invited a criminologist specializing in victimology (Valentine) and social workers specializing in health to participate in the project. Data collection for the smaller agency was centered around basic organizational needs, so the initial academic team we assembled was geared toward the basic functioning of the agency – a sociologist with nonprofit expertise and non-profit management expertise (Parrott), a criminologist (Valentine), public administration professors, a librarian specializing in databases and a filmmaker who centered one of his courses around making a film for the organization. The focus for both projects was how we academics could assist the agency with producing (and sharing) knowledge.

Data plan Meetings and correspondence about potential research topics inevitably included preliminary discussions of how to collect primary data or utilize existing data sources. Once a decision is made on the topic of inquiry, the researchers finalize data collection procedures and produce a research design for the project. This will be based on both what is feasible for the organization and what is methodologically rigorous from the perspective of the academic. As noted by Sullivan and colleagues (2013), ‘[W]hile researchers typically have a better understanding of study design and rigorous methods, practitioners tend to have more experience working directly with clients and a better understanding of the system in which the research is conducted’ (4). If the research takes place in the community, such as understanding the needs of local educators or assessing perceptions of worker owned–cooperatives, members of the organization can help

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researchers make valuable community connections or at least relay their knowledge of community dynamics. If research takes place within the organization, as with both of our examples here, members of the organization contribute their intimate understanding of the agency, including the details of the different programs, physical layout (where to keep surveys or the lockbox), ways to minimize strain on staff members, intra-agency dynamics and any current data collection procedures. Researchers combine this knowledge with their research expertise, taking into consideration such elements as sampling, informed consent and confidentiality, to establish a research question and a corresponding data plan. The research goal for the larger organization aimed to examine how their services impact clients’ health (i.e., chronic illness, sleep issues, alcohol use). The initial longitudinal research design included the recruitment of new clients who receive adult clinical mental health services and requested them to complete a questionnaire every three months for two years. Counselors at the agency were provided packets that included all surveys (initial and follow-up). During their meeting with a new client, they were instructed to briefly explain the survey to the client and ask them to complete the survey before, during or immediately after their session. The counselors then instructed the client to drop off the survey in the lockbox near the receptionist’s office when they left the agency. The counselors kept track of when the surveys were distributed and were directed to provide the survey to the client every three months (tables with calendar dates were provided to all counselors to calculate approximate follow-up dates for additional surveys). For the smaller organization, collecting data was the research project, allowing us to help build their data system and attempt to incorporate questions of academic interest on their intake forms.

Official paperwork The researcher or research team will need to complete some basic paperwork, notably developing a memorandum of understanding (MOU) or memorandum of agreement (MOA) and completing all necessary IRB paperwork. Developing an MOU or MOA early in the process can be beneficial for both the organization and the researchers (Norris et al. 2007). The MOU/MOA should clearly lay out what the expectations are for both the researchers and the organization. The organization will want to be sure that their organization, staff and clients are adequately protected, and organizations may want to ensure that any data leaving their premises is blinded (i.e., identifiers are removed from the dataset). The MOU/MOA can also be useful for researchers, as it can clearly lay out the deliverables and time frame expected of them. Organizations may expect a quick turnaround time for data collection and the creation of reports, and this is an opportunity for academics to establish more feasible expectations. The university researchers will also need to obtain IRB approval for their research, for which the MOU/MOA will likely be a component. In going through the IRB process, it is likely that the researcher will need to explain what the IRB is and value of the IRB to community members, especially if the IRB process delays data collection. In the case of our research with the large organization, the counselors were the ones who invited clients to complete a voluntary survey; thus the counselors were considered co-investigators in the study and were required to complete a two- to three-hour online National Institute of Health (NIH) IRB training. We, the researchers, had to defend this step and convey the value of this IRB training to the practitioners.

Data collection process Data collection procedures will vary widely depending on the project. The projects with these two organizations have involved primary data collection; we helped them develop a topic, 280

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research question and data plan, but the implementation of the plan was up to the agency. Our general protocol with data collection is to periodically check in, adjust as necessary and present initial data, if possible. With the larger organization, data collection has not been successful; as mentioned earlier, we began with a longitudinal study with data collection occurring every three months over a two-year period. However, after eight months only ten clients had participated in our survey. We met with members of the agency – the executive directors with lower-level directors – a number of times to regroup and discuss ways to increase the sample size. The changes included expanding the recruitment pool, creating online surveys in addition to paper surveys, increasing awareness of the study (i.e., recruitment flyers) and even modifying the research design by changing the time dimension from longitudinal to cross-sectional. Unfortunately, we were unable to significantly increase the number of responses for the voluntary survey. We have continued to reach out to the agency to brainstorm additional ways to increase participation but have come up short. There were also issues with data collection for the smaller organization (discussed under the section challenges), but these problems were more clearly related to staff data collection and input into the database; we were able to work with the agency to develop data collection procedures more aligned with their capabilities and more direct needs. The challenges with data collection at both organizations seem to highlight the disjuncture between the ideal and the practical, as well as the limitations in setting up research within an organization without having a more intimate understanding of the everyday functioning of the agency.

Analysis Academics can be integral in helping agencies analyze and interpret data. In fact, partnering with academics is increasingly recommended or even required in federal community-based grants, as federal agencies want to be sure organizations are making data-driven decisions and that there is oversight of such decisions from an impartial party. Organic public sociologists, like feminist researchers (Acker, Barry, and Esseveld 1983; Ramazanoglu and Holland 2002), have been critiqued for becoming overly involved in the research site (Brook and Darlington 2013; Nyden et al. 2012). We feel it is important to understand our role as academics and consciously maintain our objectivity. For example, while we feel particularly invested in the smaller organization that we have helped to grow, our dedication to this agency pushes us to present honest interpretations of their data and suggest places where improvements could be made.

Final products Articles and books are the typical products of traditional academic research. The final products for public sociology, especially organic public sociology, may include reports, presentations, websites or films. The successful collaboration with the smaller organization has led to a number of other opportunities and ways to expand on existing data collection (discussed later).

Challenges Our experiences with the two organizations highlight a number of potential challenges with community-based research. Some of these challenges were only present in one organization, perhaps explaining some of the differences in success across these examples, and some were present in both. 281

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Challenges across organizations Creating the research instrument Clients in these organizations could be asked to provide a wide range of information about their histories and current lives. Such information could certainly be useful for service providers trying to help them and could also be the source of fascinating academic research. In both these cases, we were meeting the goals of multiple stakeholders; practitioners from multiple programs within the agencies and researchers from diverse disciplines were adding components to the surveys or intake forms. The result in both cases was an instrument that was quite lengthy, and questionnaires that take more time tend to result in lower response rates (Galesic and Bosnjak 2009). We suspect this may have been an issue with clients completing the voluntary survey at the larger organization and know this was an issue with staff filling out the full intakes on clients at the smaller organization.

Priorities with agency Victim and trauma service providers are understandably focused on treatment and services for their clients. Even if community agencies recognize the value of data collection and evaluation, data reporting can become a secondary concern (Botcheva, White, and Huffman 2002; Carman 2007). This can be challenging enough for reporting what is necessary for the agency and can be even more challenging when trying to add on additional research elements. To effectively conduct research within community agencies, it is important to figure out how to collect data without putting additional strain on service providers. Furthermore, if data collection is not prioritized by executive staff on a consistent basis, it does not become a priority to service providers. Data collection needs to be incorporated as part of the job and needs to be encouraged on a weekly (if not daily) basis. We found this issue in both organizations, perhaps especially in the larger organization where the survey was voluntary.

Population served Both these organizations work with trauma victims; victims typically contact the agency in crisis. Service providers that we worked with reported reluctance to ask them to fill out (additional) paperwork, as they felt that victims would not want to volunteer to complete a survey. However, research suggests that trauma victims (even recent trauma victims) tolerate research well; they just need adequate informed consent and debriefing to minimize any ‘researchrelated distress’ (Griffin et al. 2003; Johnson and Benight 2003; Seedat et al. 2004). We addressed these concerns in the survey study with the larger organization; we had an extensive informed consent form that included the 24-hour hotline number, and we recommended that clients fill out the form before their counseling session in case the questions were upsetting. Thus, if the population affected the participation rate, this is likely due to staff not offering the survey to victims rather than victims refusing participation. Additionally, even in the time we have worked with these organizations, we have seen a trend away from explicitly tracking client progress, especially on the most vulnerable populations. Written case notes on victims were increasingly minimal, as both organizations were concerned about records being subpoenaed. This trend obviously creates problems for systematic data collection. The data may be the minimum amount needed for descriptive data, but such data is not sufficient for inferential or predictive analyses warranted in academic research. 282

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Academic, data-driven research In public sociology research, particularly organic public sociology, creating academic research is not central. The goal is to help organizations produce knowledge through data-driven research. The final products associated with public sociology (like reports for organizations) are not traditionally valued in universities as much as academic journals and books. We have approached these agencies with extremely flexible research agendas, willing to pursue topics outside of our areas of expertise. We have taken a leap of faith that such work will eventually result in data that can both contribute to the maintenance and sustainability of the agency as well as academic research, and thus far, the progress has been slow.

Differences in challenges Organizational need In reflecting on the differences in the success of these projects, one major difference across organizations is in need. We approached the larger organization about potential research because they were large, established and covered a wide range of topics; we believed that an active research relationship with this organization could provide unlimited research opportunities for a number of LI-ARC faculty. However, because they were established in the community in terms of reputation and funding sources, our research project was not a high priority. In comparison, the smaller grassroots organization needed a research partner as they tried to establish themselves and seek funding. The successful partnership with the smaller organization may have to do with size, but it may alternatively be related to our role in helping them receive a large grant where we were included as a research partner. Need may have mattered in that we were more likely to help the smaller organization with grant-writing – we may have had a similar partnership with the larger organization had we volunteered to help in similar ways.

Buy-in and turnover Since data was seen as necessary for the survival of the smaller organization, we have had significant buy-in from the organization. The executive director in particular understands the importance of data collection for the agency and has been able to insist that lower-level staff members collect at least basic data. The directors of the larger organization seemed excited about the research with us, but it is unclear how invested they are on a regular basis and how much support we have among lower-level staff members. We conducted a training for the staff and spoke at an additional staff meeting, but this engagement did not appear to increase responses. We may have been additionally hurt by staff turnover (particularly executive staff) within this agency, turnover that has not happened in the smaller organization.

Type of partnership For whatever reasons (organizational need, size of agency, personalities), the type of partnership that has developed with the smaller organization is simply different than in the larger organization. With the smaller organization, we have moved from making connections to maintaining connections. Staff at this organization reach out to us regularly, and we reach out to them; it is a two-way street. Such regular communication is a key component to successful community collaborations (Evans et al. 2001). The communication with the larger organization has been 283

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more one-way; as researchers, we have contacted them to check in about the study and provide updates as needed; it is difficult to maintain contact if they do not see us as partners and maintain contact. These types of challenges are hard to overcome.

Opportunities There are many exciting opportunities with public sociology work that make trying to overcome challenges well worth the effort. The main benefits of this work are to help the community and help instigate social change. Researchers have skills that can be used to assist community organizations to meet their goals and address social problems; why not use them? Increasingly, colleges are having community engagement as part of their mission, so projects such as this are perfect opportunities to engage with important social issues while contributing to university goals. Opportunities for academic research may not be initially obvious, but as trust develops with organizations, there may be more access to existing data and more opportunities for research. For example, as noted earlier, the relationship established with the smaller organization has led to a collaboration among practitioners and academics on a federal grant to establish a county-wide Anti-Human Trafficking Task Force. Our participation in this has led to access to increasing amounts of unique data from a wide variety of agencies, including the county police department, county jail and other non-profit organizations, as well as invitations to be included as research partners on other federal grants. These opportunities have yet to result in traditional research publications, but such publications are in development. Community research has also allowed us opportunities to develop community-organizing skills. Researchers need to be able to bring potential partners to the table, effectively communicate with community members, balance sometimes competing interests and work to equalize power relationships among research partners (Evans et  al. 2001; Norris et  al. 2007). For example, since we are recognized as neutral contributors to the Anti-Human Trafficking Task Force (i.e., we are not part of any participating victim services or law enforcement agency), we have been asked to lead the task force meetings. This has been an excellent opportunity to build leadership and communication skills as we help the agencies develop and formalize ways to effectively work together. One of the goals of the task force is helping them to create an inter-agency database to track victims, enabling them to see where there are gaps in services. By leading the meetings and data collection efforts, we have the exciting role of guiding the community task force in the creation of knowledge.

Conclusion Organic public sociology has been defined as ‘scholarship that focuses beyond the academy and engages actively with external social agents, movements and organizations’ (Brook and Darlington 2013:234). The primary goal of our community collaborations has not been academic research. Our goal has been to work with community organizations to help them generate knowledge that is useful for their activist missions. We want to help these organizations explore what therapeutic interventions are most effective or how to best meet the needs of human trafficking victims or whatever other data they feel they need for the everyday functioning of their agencies. We help them set up the most effective research tools, such as databases or surveys, and integrate data collection into their organizations. They become the producers of knowledge, and we help them interpret the results so that they can make data-driven improvements. In this chapter, we have discussed the process of conducting community-based or organic public sociology research; we have also discussed the challenges and opportunities that potentially 284

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arise in these collaborations. Additionally, we reflected on our different experiences with two victim-services agencies. With the smaller organization, perhaps driven by the grant opportunity, we moved from sharing knowledge to building knowledge with data-driven results. We are continuing to collect secondary data from various agencies involved with the federal grant as well as primary data from task force members. This data collection process has allowed several community agencies, specifically the smaller organization, to improve services for clients from the knowledge produced by these efforts. Furthermore, we hope it will also build knowledge for the field with future academic publications. In contrast, the partnership never fully developed with the larger organization. There was no bridge between sharing and building because we were unable to collect sufficient data. We plan to continue our efforts with this organization in hopes it will lead to data-driven improvements for the organizations as well as the field. However, the limitations listed here may prevent us from merging community-based knowledge and academic knowledge as intended. Public sociology allows the use of sociological tools and knowledge to help produce community-oriented, data-driven change. There has been considerable debate about the compatibility of public sociology and traditional sociology (e.g., Burawoy 2014; Feagin, Elias, and Mueller 2009; Nyden et al. 2012; Van den Berg 2014), including whether activist goals undermine the scientific objectivity of research. Yet, sociology as a discipline has always addressed issues of social justice, even if the extent to which sociologists have fully maximized their capacity to foster social change is debatable (Feagin et al. 2009). We do not believe that maintaining community, practical and/or activist goals precludes contributing to the larger sociological literature; however, collecting data to serve multiple goals requires careful planning and perhaps some troubleshooting. This chapter is meant to help researchers plan and navigate communitybased research projects. The more that public sociologists are able to successfully and simultaneously satisfy community needs, while also filling gaps in academic research, the larger their potential impact within their communities and the larger discipline of sociology.

References Acker, J., K. Barry and J. Esseveld. 1983. “Objectivity and Truth: Problems in Doing Feminist Research.” Women’s Studies International Forum 6(4):423–435. Arnold, T.J., A. Malki, J. Leyva, J. Ibarra, S.S. Daniel, P.J. Ballard, J.C. Sandberg, S.A. Quandt, and T.A. Arcury. 2019. “Engaging Youth Advocates in Community Based Participatory Research on Child Farmworker Health in North Carolina.” Program Community Health Partnerships 13(2):191–199. Botcheva, L., C.R. White, and L.C. Huffman. 2002. “Learning Culture and Outcomes Measurement Practices in Community Agencies.” American Journal of Evaluation 23(4):421–434. Brook, P. and R. Darlington. 2013. “Partisan, Scholarly and Active: Arguments for an Organic Public Sociology of Work.” Work, Employment and Society 27(2):232–243. Burawoy, M. 2005. “2004 Presidential Address: For Public Sociology.” American Sociological Review 70(1):4–28. Burawoy, M. 2014. “Foreword.” Pp. ix–xvii in The Public Sociology Debate: Ethics and Engagement, edited by A. Hanemaayer and C.J. Schneider. London: UBC Press. Carman, J.G. 2007. “Evaluation Practice Among Community-Based Organizations: Research into the Reality.” American Journal of Evaluation 28(1):60–75. Cochran, J.C. and D.P. Mears. 2013. “Social Isolation and Inmate Behavior: A Conceptual Framework for Theorizing Prison Visitation and Guiding and Assessing Research.” Journal of Criminal Justice 41:252–261. Evans, G., K. Rey, M.M. Hemphill, D.F. Perkins, W. Austin, and P. Racine. 2001. “Academic-Community Collaboration: An Ecology for Early Childhood Violence Prevention.” American Journal of Preventive Medicine 20(1):22–30. 285

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Feagin, J., S. Elias, and J. Mueller. 2009. “Social Justice and Critical Public Sociology.” In Handbook of Public Sociology, edited by V. Jeffries. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers. Galesic, M.  & M. Bosnjak. 2009. “Effects of Questionnaire Length on Participation and Indicators of Response Quality in a Web Survey.” Public Opinion Quarterly 73(2):349–360. Griffin, M.G., P.A. Resick, A.E. Waldrop, and M.B. Mehanic. 2003. “Participation in Trauma Research: Is There Evidence of Harm?” Journal of Traumatic Stress 16(3):221–227. Hairston, C.F. 1991. “Mothers in Jail: Parent-Child Separation and Jail Visitation.” Affilia 6(2):9–27. Johnson, L.E. and C.C. Benight. 2003. “Effects of Trauma-Focused Research on Recent Domestic Violence Survivors.” Journal of Traumatic Stress 16(6):567–571. Lucero, J., N. Wallerstein, B. Duran, M. Alegria, E. Greene-Moton, B. Israel, S. Kastelic, M. Margarati, J. Oetzel, C. Pearson, A. Schultz, M. Villegas, and A.R. White Hat. 2018. “Development of a Mixed Methods Investigation of Process and Outcomes of Community-Based Research.” Journal of Mixed Methods Research 12(1):55–74. Martin, J.S. and S.W. Phaneuf. 2018. “Family Visitation and Its Relationship to Parental Stress Among Jailed Fathers.” The Prison Journal 98(6):738–759. Mitchell, M.M., K. Spooner, D. Jia, and Y. Zhang. 2016. “The Effect of Prison Visitation on Reentry Success: A Meta-Analysis.” Journal of Criminal Justice 47:74–83. Murray, C.E. and M. Welch. 2010. “Preliminary Construction of a Service Provider-Informed Domestic Violence Research Agenda.” Journal of Interpersonal Violence 25(12):2279–2296. Norris, K.C., R. Brusuelas, L. Jones, H. Miranda, K. Duru and C.M. Mangione. 2007. “Partnering with Community-Based Organizations: An Academic Institutions’ Evolving Perspective.” Ethnicity and Disease 17(Supp. 1):27–32. Nyden, P.W., G.E. Nyden, and L.H. Hossfeld. 2012. Public Sociology: Research, Action, and Change. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, Inc. Pierce, M.B., T.L. Freiburger, J.R. Chapin, B. Epling, and T.J. Madden. 2018. “Assessing the Impact of Visitation on Inmate Misconduct Within a County Jail.” Security Journal 31(1):1–20. Ramazanoglu, C. and J. Holland. 2002. Feminist Methodology: Challenges and Choices. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, Inc. Seedat, S., W.P. Pienaar, D. Wililams, and D.J. Stein. 2004. “Ethics of Research on Survivors of Trauma.” Current Psychiatry Reports 6:262–267. Suarez-Balcazar, Y., G.W. Harper and R. Lewis. 2005. “An Interactive and Contextual Model of Community-University Collaborations for Research and Action.” Health Education and Behavior 32(1):84–101. Sullivan, T.P., E. Khondkaryan, L. Moss-Racusin, and B.S. Fisher. 2013. How Researchers Can Develop Successful Relationships With Criminal Justice Practitioners, Findings from the Researcher-Practitioner Partnership Study (RPPS) (DOJ Document Number 243912). Washington, DC: U.S. Department of Justice. Van den Berg, A. 2014. “Public Sociology, Professional Sociology, and Democracy.” Pp.  53–73 in The Public Sociology Debate: Ethics and Engagement, edited by A. Hanemaayer and C.J. Schneider. London: UBC Press. Ward, M., A.J. Schulz, B.A. Israel, K. Rice, S.E. Martenies, and E. Markarian. 2018. “A  Conceptual Framework for Evaluating Health Equity Promotion Within Community-Based Participatory Research Partnerships.” Evaluation and Program Planning 70:25–34.

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22 Victims’ communities as knowledge producers in transitional justice processes The case of post-conflict Colombia Camilo Tamayo Gomez

Introduction On November 24, 2016, the Colombian government and the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC) signed a peace agreement, ending more than 50 years of armed conflict. After a divisive referendum process (50.2% of the electorate initially rejecting the peace agreement), and then further weeks of renegotiation, the Colombian Congress ratified a revised peace agreement on November 30, 2016. This date officially marked the end of the Colombian armed conflict, initiating a process of disarmament, demobilization and reintegration (DDR) of FARC ex-combatants back into Colombian society. According to the National Centre for Historical Memory of Colombia (NCHM), the result of decades of confrontations in Colombia is that in total there are more than eight million victims, including approximately seven million internally displaced. Colombian civil society has been principally affected. The numbers are immense: the Colombian armed conflict claimed the lives of at least 352,786 civilians, there were at least 82,998 enforced disappearances, up to 40,000 kidnappings, more than 17,000 child soldiers, nearly 8,952 landmine incidents and 15,222 acts of sexual violence (NCHM 2013). The NCHM has established that there were more than 1,982 massacres of civilians between 1980 and 2012. In a global perspective, this data is informing us that Colombia is the world’s second-largest population of internally displaced people after Syria; it was one of the oldest armed conflicts in the world (almost six decades), and 16.9% of the population in Colombia has been a direct victim of the war. In this context, social movements research has a historical responsibility to create analytical and theoretical tools to help us understanding this violent past and its social consequences more in depth. Also the role of public sociology to engage with non-academic audiences (particularly for this case with victims and survivors) is crucial to support the implementation of the Colombian peace agreement and its three main transitional justice mechanisms: the Special Peace Jurisdiction (JEP), the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (CEV) and the Search Unit for Disappeared People (UBPD).

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In order to address this historical responsibility, this chapter will analyze how victims’ communities are producing grassroots knowledge to find missing people, who disappeared during the Colombian armed conflict. It would explore by what means this particular construction of knowledge is a tool for demanding truth, justice and reparation to support transitional justice processes in the country. Specifically, this chapter will focus on the grassroots project Cartography and Identification of Mass Graves – an initiative based in the subregion of Eastern Antioquia, Colombia. This chapter will examine how victims’ activism can be understood as an expression of public sociology in contested societies, highlighting the relationship between peace-building and transitional justice from a sociological perspective. The final aim is to comprehend by what method collective actions of solidarity can help to reconstruct social cohesion inside local communities affected by the war. This chapter presents the results of the initiative Victims, Reparation and Transitional Justice in Post-Conflict Colombia, sponsored by the School of Law of the University of Leeds (UK). This project reviews the experiences of social movements from Colombia to recognize how victims’ groups can promote peace, reconciliation and social justice in post-conflict scenarios. For this article, 12 semi-structured interviews were conducted with victims’ organizations from the Colombian subregion of Eastern Antioquia, specifically with the Association of Victims of Granada Town (ASOVIDA), from Granada Town, and the Centre to Approach Reconciliation and Reparation (CARE), from San Carlos Town. The chapter contains four sections. The first presents theoretical antecedents of the concept of public sociology in relation to transitional justice processes and re-examines the relationship between social solidarity and peace-building in post-conflict contexts. The second part examines the characteristics of the former Colombian armed conflict, focusing on the region of Eastern Antioquia and its victims’ organizations’ initiatives. The third part analyzes the grassroots and collaborative knowledge project Cartography and Identification of Mass Graves – a victims’ initiative to identify burial sites and mass graves where missing people of the Colombian armed conflict could be buried. It will be argued that this initiative is a tool to demand truth, justice and reparation in the ongoing process of transitional justice in Colombia. The final part concludes with some views on understanding the crucial role of victims’ knowledge as an expression of public sociology and how this is a powerful mechanism to claim justice and reparation in post-conflict Colombia.

Addressing the relationship between public sociology and transitional justice Revisiting the classic paper ‘For Public Sociology,’ written by Michael Burawoy in 2005, it is manifest the current relevance of his invitation to practice and engage with sociological thinking in order to tackle the challenges of contemporary society. More importantly, Burawoy’s call to connect sociology to the world of publics, underlining sociology’s particular investment in the defense of civil society, is an encouragement to exercise our sociological imagination to respond to the growing gap between the sociological ethos and the world we study (Burawoy 2005:1). The purpose is clear: the main aim of public sociology is to make visible the invisible; to make the private public and to examine the role of power and the institutions of society in modern times, focusing on analyzing a particular actor, the civil society. Thus, public sociology is about the public role of social science. It is an introspection regarding how sociology must define, promote and inform public debate about deepening class and racial inequalities, new gender regimes, environmental degradation, market fundamentalism and state and non-state

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violence (Burawoy 2005). In other words, public sociology is an open invitation to exercise sociological thinking transcending academia and infusing liberal values in order to create a more equal, democratic and egalitarian world. Based on research findings, I would like to argue that processes of transitional justice and actions of social solidarity developed by civil society actors (principally, victims and social movements) can be understood as expressions of public sociology. Transitional justice discourses are underpinned by an assumption that truth commissions, tribunals and trials will assist societies to ‘come to terms’ with, and move on from, complex legacies of violence (Manning 2017; Tamayo Gomez 2019). Nevertheless, victims’ practices of social solidarity and production of knowledge are endeavoring to turn the page of violence and conflict in ways that are addressing ‘the sociological ethos’ proposed by Burawoy in his classic paper regarding public sociology. As a result, local practices of social solidarity and developments of production of local knowledge are indicating that civil society groups are exercising sociological thinking to support peace-building and reconciliation initiatives, emphasizing that the pursuit of justice, truth and guarantees of non-recurrence in transitional justice contexts are more dynamic and contested than the positive narrative that post-conflict implies. In this context, the relationship between public sociology and transitional justice can be understood as a component of the research field of disarmament, demobilization and reintegration (DDR) studies and as a particular contested relationship of political, cultural and social collective action-making in the aftermath of armed conflicts or authoritarianism. It places actions of social solidarity and production of knowledge by victims and other civil society actors in a broader sociohistorical context, steaming sociological perspectives that constitute the discipline of peace-building and transitional justice studies. Present developments on this relationship focus on three central aspects. First, mapping frameworks for how contemporary actions of victims’ social solidarity can and should be known and acted upon in transitional justice scenarios and what justice and reconciliation are and what must be done with them in the wake of atrocities and suffering. Second, exploring by what means the four traditional elements of transitional justice (truth, justice, reparation and guarantees of non-recurrence) are interrelated with the construction of public sociology frameworks from the victims’ point of view after the war. Finally, placing social solidarity actions as a tool to shape strong civil society groups to claim rights in transitional justice contexts. It understands the link between public sociology and transitional justice as a crucial relationship in order to develop inclusive societies, with real possibilities to develop justice, inclusion and recognition, after the war. This research understands the importance of comprehending the relationship between public sociology and transitional justice as a mechanism to support disarmament, demobilization and reintegration (DDR) initiatives and help post-conflict societies apprehend the past in an ongoing attempt to mold the future. The principal challenge is to catalyze victims’ initiatives of public sociology that can help local communities to comprehend contested sociopolitical ideas and support inclusive processes of transitional justice. This would improve understanding of how the development of social solidarity actions from a victims’ point of view is a powerful instrument to claim truth, justice and reparation in contested societies. With a view to helping engender a fuller understanding of how social solidarity actions and production of knowledge by victims’ communities can be understood as an expression of public sociology in transitional justice processes, the next section will focus on analyzing the grassroots and collaborative knowledge project Cartography and Identification of Mass Graves that is taking place in postconflict Colombia.

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Eastern Antioquia and its victims’ organizations’ initiatives Antioquia is the Colombian department with the highest number of victims of the former Colombian armed conflict (1.2 million), and Eastern Antioquia is the region with the highest percentage of massacres in the last 20 years in the country (NCHM 2013, 2018). According to the Regional Programme for Development and Peace of Eastern Antioquia (PRODEPAZ), the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) and the NCHM, from 1993 to 2017, four in ten Colombian civilian victims were women, most likely victims of a massacre and coming from Eastern Antioquia. For these three organizations, there are four principal reasons why the armed conflict was so intense in this region and why women were the principal victims. First, nearly 70% of Colombian energy resources are concentrated in this territory, it was a geographically strategic corridor within the armed conflict and women play an active role in local energy companies. Second, in the logic of the Colombian armed conflict, women were war booty and a specific target for warriors (UNDP 2010). While a strongly patriarchal society exists in this region, targeting women was a powerful way to debilitate local communities and damage their family structures (PRODEPAZ 2009). Third, it is characteristic of targeting civilians as a method of war. This strategy was utilized by both illegal and legal armed groups and became the main objective of military operations (NCHM 2018). By killing innocent bystanders, they demonstrated power, superiority and ownership of particular territories to rivals, as well as undermining the social base of support for the opposing armed group (García de la Torre and Aramburo 2011; NCHM 2018). A final explanation is that a regime of terror was constructed in the region (Jaramillo 2003), where guerrilla and paramilitary groups used cruelty to dehumanize their war adversaries (García de la Torre and Aramburo 2011). The former armed conflict situation in Eastern Antioquia is a good case study for understanding the dynamic of the armed conflict in Colombia. Eastern Antioquia was the first place where guerrilla groups used landmines to prevent territorial control by the Colombian army. It was also the territory where the methodical implementation of massacres against civilians was used as a war strategy by paramilitary groups to spread fear and terror in the country and where civilians experienced continuous suffering (Estrada 2010). Thus, the citizens of Eastern Antioquia faced all possible consequences of the war: stigmatization, forced displacements, massacres, persecution, marginalization, extrajudicial executions, torture. They were the victims of all forms of violation and human rights abuses (García de la Torre and Aramburo 2011; Tamayo Gomez 2017). In this context, the government and economy of Eastern Antioquia was characterized in three ways: firstly, by ongoing fighting between different illegal and legal armed groups for control over the territory and its resources; secondly, by the co-optation of local institutions such as town councils or local governments by illegal forces in order to affect local democracy and control economic resources; and finally, by the establishment of illegal economies around drug trafficking, kidnapping and extortion that strongly affected local and regional economies (UNDP 2010; García de la Torre and Aramburo 2011; NCHM 2018). Against this backdrop, in 2003 two Colombian NGOs (Conciudadania and the Centre for Research and Popular Education – CINEP/PPP) began an initiative in Eastern Antioquia called Emotional First Aid. This program aimed to train victims about how to help each other to overcome the pain caused by the war, through practical workshops that addressed the psychological impact it had on them. One of the outcomes of this project was the creation of a victims’ group: The Life and Mental Health Promoters – PROVISAME  – also known as Las Abrazadas (The Embraced). In 2006, 45 members of this support group (most of them victims of internal displacement) decided to go beyond the group’s initial aim and founded The Association of Victims of Granada Town (ASOVIDA) in Granada Town, Eastern Antioquia, with the purpose 290

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of demanding their rights as victims. Having ASOVIDA as a main reference, in 2006, a group of women of San Carlos Town, Eastern Antioquia, adapted the same methodology used by Las Abrazadas to deliver psychological help to the victims of this particular town. The main objective was also to confront the pain caused by the war through therapeutic workshops with a gender perspective. After initial support from the Association of Organised Women of Eastern Antioquia (AMOR), Conciudadania and the Centre for Research and Popular Education, this collective of women founded the victims’ group The Centre to Approach Reconciliation and Reparation (CARE) with the main purpose to support victims in all aspects of emotional, mental and psychological recovering. After two years of intensive healing work with the victims, in 2009, CARE started to focus on other related issues, adding three more aims to its original project: firstly, the creation of community strategies to bring social reparation and public recognition to the victims of San Carlos; secondly, the development of processes of reconciliation between victims and perpetrators to rebuild social cohesion in the town; and finally, the compilation of victims and perpetrators narratives as a mechanism to establish the truth about what happened during the years of the armed conflict in San Carlos. The grassroots project Cartography and Identification of Mass Graves is a result of the implementation of these three aims in a public sociology project.

The case of the grassroots project Cartography and Identification of Mass Graves The grassroots project Cartography and Identification of Mass Graves is a victims’ initiative created by CARE, between 2009 and 2010, to produce local knowledge to find missing people who disappeared during the Colombian armed conflict. One of the original aims of this enterprise was to involve the population of Eastern Antioquia in the production of information to identify places where presumably missing people could be buried. After years of work and research, CARE established that more than 94 people had been missing as a consequence of the armed conflict in San Carlos Town. In order to produce information to find those missing people, CARE initially distributed 200 detailed maps of the municipality (including rural areas) across the town, asking people of the community to give information about probable locations of mass graves. To provide anonymity to informants, CARE suggested bringing the filled maps in closed envelopes to the church or the local council. Another advised recommendation was to leave the envelopes at the door of the houses of the victims’ association leaders. Recalling the motivations behind this initiative, a member of CARE stated: We distributed maps all around San Carlos, and I remember that at the beginning people of the town looked at us with fear and mistrust. We said to the people: ‘you don’t have to give your name, if you have any information just mark a cross on the map and done! Simple as that!’ We just wanted to have clues, bits of information, a trace, and bring some hope. . . . [W]e wanted to know where to start our search, we wanted to find the places where our dead relatives are waiting for us. (Personal interview, San Carlos, Eastern Antioquia, Colombia) After the first distribution of maps, lead members of CARE started the production of public knowledge through the creation of ‘banks of maps’ to identify local and regional mass graves based on the information brought in by the community. As a result, the project Cartography and Identification of Mass Graves was established with the principal aim to find the dead bodies 291

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of missing people of the region. In 2010, CARE started developing a method to systematize victim and perpetrator narratives to create better public cartographies. The aim was also to collect public information from soldiers and combatants (paramilitaries and guerrilla members and Colombian army personnel) in order to establish precise places where those groups buried the bodies of missing persons. Moreover, it was a complex and difficult process to track and check pieces of public information that these different sources delivered through the maps. Just checking the physical places involved walking for many hours across the region; meeting illegal groups; avoiding landmine fields; digging in the earth for long periods of time and, in the end, finding the bones or clothes of missing relatives or friends. Regarding this difficult process, a member of CARE recalled: We found the mass grave in El Jordán, a rural area of San Carlos, after six hours of walking and searching. I was in charge of digging and I remember saying to myself all the time ‘[P]lease God, give me the energy and braveness to keep doing this; please Holy Spirit, give me the strength and resistance to not faint or throw up’. And suddenly, after two hours of digging and digging, I found the clothes and some bones of Luz Aida. . . . I started crying and saying ‘Thank God, thank God, thank God’. You know what? I think that you have to have a huge and open heart to do this; seriously . . . you have to make a lot of sacrifices. My uncle lost a leg in a landmine field trying to find this mass grave; my cousin is accused of helping guerrilla groups just because we crossed a guerrilla camp in the search. But the good thing is that we could give to Luz Aida a proper funeral and now we can visit her in the proper grave. . . . [T]his grave in the cemetery is a huge relief for us after all these years of uncertainty and pain. (Personal interview, San Carlos, Eastern Antioquia, Colombia) After nine years of the implementation of this grassroots project, 27 mass graves have been found in the region as a result of the public information gathered through those collaborative cartographies. By 2020, CARE has produced knowledge to develop more than 73 accurate maps and cartographies where presumably 213 missing people of the region are buried. The National Committee of Repair and Reconciliation of Colombia (CNRR 2011) argued that this initiative is an important contribution to bring the issue of missing people into the public sphere in Colombia. Thus, the elaboration of these collaborative cartographies are helping victims’ through the process of healing and mourning, and it is a crucial step to know the truth in the midst of the actual transitional justice process. One of the main consequences of secretly abducting, detaining or enforcing disappearance as an armed conflict strategy is the destruction of social cohesion in local communities. The development of collective feelings of distress, mistrust, guilt and a permanent breakdown in trust of neighbors and friends can deeply undermine communal living and mutual respect (CNRR 2009; NCHM 2018). In that respect, it could be argued that for the case of CARE, the cooperative construction of mass grave cartography knowledge and victims’ activism are helping to restore the sense of social cohesion inside local communities affected by the war. It is also demonstrating how actions of solidarity through sharing information with victims can be understood as an expression of public sociology for this particular situation. Beer and Koster (2009) have argued that if the members of a community act out of solidarity, then it is a proof of some degrees of social cohesion and an example of direct involvement and sympathy to others. In other words, empathy to ‘the other,’ ‘the stranger’ and ‘the different’ is key to developing processes of public sociology in contested societies. Addressing how the construction of knowledge

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through the elaboration of collaborative cartography has helped social cohesion in San Carlos Town, a member of CARE expressed: I like to think that when somebody in town gives us a piece of information knowing that it could be really risky for him or her, it is because this person realises that, at the end of the day, we are a united community that is kind and help their fellows. When a member of your family needs help I guess that you go immediately to offer some support, right? Well, in my opinion all these cartographies are expressing the support of our town to the people that can’t have a normal life here because they are trying to find their missing relatives every day, and they need our help right now. . . . You know what? I strongly believe that when people of our town exchange information, mark crosses on the mass graves maps and help us in the construction of these cartographies, it is a way to say to the guerrillas, to the Colombian army and to the new paramilitaries groups of the region that people of San Carlos will survive this war and we are united. We will survive because we are a strong big family and these legal and illegal groups are just despicable temporal visitors. (Personal interview, San Carlos, Eastern Antioquia, Colombia) Regarding the relationship of overcoming mistrust through the construction of mass graves cartographies in San Carlos Town, a member of CARE stated: In my humble opinion, one of the most terrible impacts of the war in San Carlos was that we can’t trust anybody . . . sounds horrible! I know! But it’s true; we are always suspicious of each other. . . . That is the reason, in my opinion anyway, that the work that we are doing in CARE is sooo important for the community! All these cartographies are saying to the people of the town that we can do something together to overcome the war and be a solid community again; and when we share personal and private information with the community I think it is a way to say out loud: hey! I would like to trust in you again! (Personal interview, San Carlos, Eastern Antioquia, Colombia) The actions of enforced disappearances induce extreme suffering in local communities. Feelings of uncertainty and the incapacity of families to find closure and come to terms with the disappearance of their loved ones are also some negative outcomes. Thus, Boss and Dahl (2014) established that this emotional incapacity can produce collective and individual processes of ‘ambiguous loss’ – that is, the process of unresolved grief and the inability to move forward that can occur when there is no verification of a missing person’s status as alive or dead. Without knowing if the missing person will come back, the grief process is ‘frozen,’ and so is the mourning process. The uncertainty can last for years or decades, leaving victims’ families in a kind of limbo, hoping against hope and unable to say goodbye. Regarding this issue of uncertainty, a member of CARE expressed: I have been waiting for Marcela’s return for five years. During this time I have been waking up early every morning to cook her favourite food because I hoped that today can be the day that she finally comes back home. My friends say that I’m a loony, that I’m wasting my time; that I have to move on with my life and get another wife. But I can’t, definitely I can’t. What if she comes back tomorrow? What if she is still alive? When we got married I promised her in our wedding ceremony that I will take care of her ‘until death do us part’

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and I don’t know if she is dead or not. My life is an abyss of sadness; totally empty . . . the only thing that I want is to find my wife. (Personal interview, San Carlos, Eastern Antioquia, Colombia) In this context, it is possible to claim that the construction of victims’ knowledge as an expression of public sociology is facilitating processes of collective and individual grief, providing emotional healing to the victims through actions of mutual affective solidarity. Beer and Koster (2009) expressed that affective solidarity is founded on a feeling of care, responsibility and duty toward another person (for our case, victims), closely related to values like altruism, humanity, benevolence and community spirit. Analyzing this case, I argued that actions of solidarity, expressed by sharing public information, are helping people from Eastern Antioquia to emotionally recover from the consequences of the former armed conflict. In other words, social bonds matter, and those particular actions of solidarity as a public sociology are the glue that hold groups of victims together in this Colombian region. Thus, the right to know as a manifestation of victims’ knowledge and public sociology is expressing private suffering in public, democratizing the pain within local communities, and catalyzing actions of affective solidarity. Remembering how these actions of public solidarity can provide emotional healing, a member of CARE stated: I spent many years trying to find her without any luck. I thought that my daughter had run away because she was upset with me. But the truth was that the guerrillas abducted and killed her because they thought that Cristina was part of the paramilitaries groups in the region, what stupidity! But you know what? I have feelings of gratitude to the people of San Carlos that brought pieces of information to CARE, because thanks to this information I found my daughter in a mass grave and I could stop my own suffering. I know now that she is dead and for me it’s an enormous relief. . . . The moment that I received her bones and ashes in a plastic bag two years ago all my pain and sorrow disappeared, because finally all the uncertainty finished. It’s a huge relief that I can go to the cemetery every day and pray for her, and guess what? I don’t have nightmares anymore. (Personal interview, San Carlos, Eastern Antioquia, Colombia) In short, it is clear that the production of victims’ knowledge through the elaboration of collaborative mass graves cartographies is generating a double social process of social solidarity, public sociology and recognition in Eastern Antioquia. On the one hand, the person who shares public information about the location of mass graves with the community is recognizing the traumatic experience of others, and this process of solidarity is generating, at the same time, an open expression of public sociology through the construction of communal knowledge. Thus, this individual member of the community is stressing with its actions that the other member is different (in this case is suffering from a process of ambiguous loss) that needs assistance, and the action of solidarity of sharing information, to construct public knowledge, is a way to recognize its private pain in public in order to help it. More fundamental, in those particular cases, victims and perpetrators are generating an intersubjective process of social solidarity, and they are recognizing their need for forgiveness and support in an encounter with one another. In order to comprehend this particular process of social solidarity and recognition, this narrative of one of the members of CARE can be illustrative: Creating these cartographies, my first big surprise was to start receiving help from some former members of paramilitary groups in the region. Can you imagine my surprise? The 294

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people that kidnapped and killed our loved ones trying to help us now! But, at the end of the day, these are the people that know where the mass graves are; and we needed them for this task. At the beginning, I couldn’t tell anybody in town about this; but after a couple of months, and finding two mass graves thanks to this information, I started thinking: ‘well, this person is finally doing something good for us!’ One day I asked him the reasons for helping us, and he said that he was looking for forgiveness and a place in our community; a kind of second chance I guess. But after that conversation I realised that it was a win-win situation, I can recognise him as part of our community now and he is finally doing something good for the wellbeing of our town. (Personal interview, San Carlos, Eastern Antioquia, Colombia) On the other hand, the victim who receives information about the location of the mass grave is recognizing the action of solidarity from the people of its community. This exchange of knowledge and information can improve social cohesion inside local communities as an expression of public sociology, and it is crucial to helping reconciliation for particular contexts. As a result, this double social process of public sociology, social solidarity and recognition are highlighting Honneth’s (2007) ideas of understanding solidarity as a synthesis of instrumental and empathic solidarity in particular contested contexts, where developing actions of public sociology can be understood as the result of humanistic emotions rather than instrumental considerations. To sum up this part, the cooperative construction of knowledge and information to build mass graves cartographies between victims, civilians and perpetrators is not just a simple instrumental action of solidarity. It is also a sociological process that is shaping and underlying forms of recognition and public sociology in Easter Antioquia’s communities after the war.

Public sociology in transitional justice contexts: victims’ communities as knowledge producers In the context of transitional justice in Colombia, the project Cartography and Identification of Mass Graves recognizes the production of knowledge and information as a social and generational institution with which to demand truth, justice and reparation. It provides alternative ways of understanding the violence of the past to new generations who do not have previous knowledge of it. As a result, this initiative becomes an expression of sociocultural belonging, affection and assimilation that shapes new social dynamics of association and post-conflict reconciliation in particular towns of Eastern Antioquia. It is important to highlight the significance of providing grassroots knowledge and information to communities that do not have access to different perspectives about the violent past, and particularly victims’ views. Thus, this production of knowledge from a victims’ perspective can be understood as an expression of public sociology in post-conflict societies and how this construction of knowledge can catalyze practices of reparation in the ongoing process of transitional justice in Colombia. The next example of the ‘false positives’ (falsos positivos) will illustrate this significance. It has been demonstrated in previous paragraphs that one of the most devastating outcomes of the former Colombian armed conflict is the number of disappeared and missing people. According to the NCHM (2018) and the International Committee of the Red Cross (2018), the armed conflict has left 82,998 people missing between 1958 and 2018. To put this in perspective, this is more people missing than all the ones registered during the dictatorship years in the Southern Cone countries of Argentina, Chile and Uruguay. The amount of people missing in Colombia could fill two professional football stadiums, where 79,288 of the missing are civilians and 3,710 are former combatants (NCHM 2018). Often, it is unclear who caused the 295

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disappearance of these victims, and without a doubt, the most critical humanitarian challenge currently facing Colombia during its current transitional justice process is helping to find the people who have disappeared as a result of the armed conflict. According to the report on extrajudicial, summary or arbitrary executions in Colombia commissioned by the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR 2010), from 2004, one of the strategies of the Colombian army to ‘win the war’ was the implementation of a phenomenon of so-called false positives (falsos positivos). This was the act of murdering civilians, but the security forces would make it look as if they had been killed in combat or that they were guerrillas or criminals and therefore had been killed lawfully. International NGOs, including Amnesty International (2013) and Human Rights Watch (2013), have argued that evidence exists of this phenomenon from 1980 and that it is an example of an intentional and deliberate state policy of killing civilians in the midst of the armed conflict. The methods involved the use of paid ‘recruiters’ (usually a civilian, demobilized armed group member or former soldier) who would trap people under false pretenses (by offering a job, for example), then move them to a remote location, where they would be killed by members of the Colombian army, often within a matter of hours or days since they were last seen by family members. After that, civilian victims were presented as guerrilla members by ‘informers’ (civilians, demobilized armed group members or former soldiers) who identify the victims in exchange for money. Once these victims are killed, military forces set up the scene to make it appear as if it were a lawful combat killing, involving placed arms and weapons in the hands of victims, firing weapons from victims’ hands, changing their clothes to clothing associated with guerrillas or putting combat boots on victims’ feet. At the end, the civilian victims were reported by the Colombian army in press conferences as guerrilla members killed in combat. Victims were often buried without being identified, and some were buried in communal mass graves (OHCHR 2010; CINEP 2011). According to the United Nations, 44% of the falsos positivos cases happened in Eastern Antioquia, where the towns of Granada, Cocorná, San Francisco, San Carlos, Argelia and Guarne were most affected (OHCHR 2010). The Colombian Army denied for decades this unlawful strategy, and the official narrative was that ‘false positives’ was a ludicrous invention of human rights NGOs and left-wing political groups in the country. As a result of the transitional justice process that is taking place in Colombia at the moment, it is possible to confront this official version and demand the truth about what really happened. The next narrative presents victims’ perspectives and contests official versions of what occurred: My son was abducted on 31st of August 2002 by the fourth division of the Colombian National Army when he was on his way to work on a local farm close to Guarne town. They killed him and changed his clothes for a guerrilla camouflage suit. After that, the Colombian army introduced him as a guerrillero in a press conference in Santa Ana; a rural area close to Granada town. How can I trust the government and the army after that? How can I claim justice when the legal system always protects the Colombian army? The worst thing is that in the eyes of the state my son is another guerrillero killed in an operation against FARC, when the truth is that he was just another normal working peasant from Guarne and the father of two kids. . . . After that how can I believe in the legal system in Colombia? Who can protect me from the state? (Victim from Eastern Antioquia, personal interview) According to Amnesty International (2013) and the NCHM (2018), one of the main reasons for these extrajudicial killings was the pressure the Colombian government placed on the 296

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military units to present results to the public and demonstrate that the government was winning the armed conflict against the guerrillas. Consequently, for Colombian military forces, success was often associated with enemy body counts; the number of guerrilla members killed in combat by military units. Some Colombian NGOs argued that these summary executions contributed to the targeting of human rights defenders, trade unionists, peasants and indigenous communities. The justification was that these social groups were ‘the usual suspects’ to associate with guerrilla groups according to the Colombian Army during the years of the war (MINGA 2009; CINEP 2011). The tension between official and non-official narratives over the phenomenon of the ‘false positives’ reveals how constructions of knowledge and information are set in place by agents, actors or institutions that have their own political, social and cultural agendas. The tension takes place in transitional justice scenarios where the clash of diverse sets of values reflects positions of power, recognition, solidarity and visibility inside post-conflict contexts. Therefore, it is crucial to present victims’ knowledge and information through initiatives such as the Cartography and Identification of Mass Graves project to restore a sense of citizenship inside victims’ groups and promote processes of national reconciliation from a civil society perspective. Furthermore, presenting victims’ views can challenge positions of power and public assumptions about the behavior of institutions in the country, showing the crucial role of public sociology in contested scenarios. As a victim of ‘false positives’ expresses: I have been thinking for all these years why the Colombian army always killed and abducted peasants and poor people of my town to then present them as ‘false positives.’ . . . Why not the local politicians, or posh people or people with money? You know what? These soldiers just want to receive promotions, money or medals for killing guerrilleros, don’t they? So I assume that my husband just represented to them other 200,000 Colombian pesos for their pockets or a holiday at the sea side. . . . Why do the people in my town don’t believe that my husband was a peasant and not a guerrilla supporter? Easy, because he was a peasant; not a politician. . . . His only sin was to be a peasant, a land worker, and during this time the Colombian army is trying to convince everybody that all the peasants and campesinos of Eastern Antioquia are guerrilleros . . . and you know why? Because it’s more money for them; for the Colombian army every peasant of Eastern Antioquia is a cheque for 200.000 Colombian pesos. (Victim from Eastern Antioquia, personal interview) It is clear that questions of power, ideology and authority do not just simply ‘evaporate’ by giving voice or visibility to the victims of the former Colombian armed conflict. The construction of knowledge and information from a victims’ perspective in post-conflict Colombia is a struggle over power and the exercise of this power to shape collective representations and meanings of the past, with important connections to the creation of subjectivities, narratives and values in the present. The challenge in transitional justice times is to understand how victims can access or exercise different levels of symbolic power as a result of producing grassroots knowledge, in order to shape new meanings of the past that can affect narratives of the present. In other words, the question about how to change power relations between social actors, historical institutions and political concepts from a public sociology perspective could be the key to understanding the future construction of symbolic power, victims’ reparation and the role of public sociology in post-conflict Colombia. After analyzing some motivations of victims from Eastern Antioquia in regards to the Cartography and Identification of Mass Graves project, it is possible to argue that this initiative is 297

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based on expressive activism as an instrument for exercising political power in the public sphere. This case illustrates how subjectivity, emotions and empowerment are a social agency that can generate collective actions through victims’ construction of collaborative knowledge in transitional justice scenarios. This initiative also demonstrates how feelings such as pain, suffering and rage can motivate challenges to official information about the past, with encouragement to take part in collective actions and to mobilize resources to make a claim for truth and justice. It therefore confirms that the construction of victims’ knowledge and information is not just a rational or formal approach; it can, at the same time, combine different formal or substantive levels of rationality and irrationality. As a result, the Cartography and Identification of Mass Graves project is a good example of the relevance of emotion and expression as key elements behind social constructions of knowledge in transitional justice processes.

Conclusion This chapter began by outlining the concept of public sociology in relation to transitional justice processes, re-examining the relationship between social solidarity and peace-building in post-conflict contexts. It went on to establish the importance of comprehending public sociology as a tool to support transitional justice mechanisms and help divided societies appropriate their political past in an ongoing attempt to mold their futures. It has reviewed the characteristics of the former Colombian armed conflict, focusing on the region of Eastern Antioquia and its victims’ organizations’ initiatives. It has analyzed the case of the grassroots and collaborative knowledge project Cartography and Identification of Mass Graves – a victims’ initiative to identify burial sites and mass graves where missing people of the Colombian armed conflict could be buried. It established that this project is an example of victims’ communities as knowledge producers and is an instrument to demand truth, justice and reparation in the ongoing process of transitional justice in Colombia. Importantly, the chapter also emphasized the crucial role of victims’ production of knowledge as an expression of public sociology and how this is a powerful medium to claim justice and reparation in post-conflict Colombia. This chapter has also stressed that local practices of victims’ production of knowledge are indicating that civil society groups are exercising sociological thinking to support reconciliation initiatives, emphasizing that the pursuit of justice, truth and guarantees of non-recurrence in transitional justice contexts are more dynamic and contested than the positive narrative that post-conflict implies. For this reason, one of the challenges is how to establish academic and victims’ initiatives addressing the ‘public sociology ethos’ that can help local communities to comprehend contested sociopolitical ideas and support inclusive processes of transitional justice. The importance of understanding victims’ communities as knowledge producers in transitional justice processes rests on the idea that it is a sociological obligation to dignify the victims and survivors of traumatic events, even if those victims do not share official political positions or mainstream ideological views after the war. If one of the main aims of public sociology, following Burawoy’s ideas, is to make visible the invisible and to provide introspection about how sociology must define, promote and inform public debate about contemporary affairs, the Colombian case is a perfect opportunity to exercise sociological thinking to help survivors and victims of armed conflicts. In sum, it can be concluded that the question about how to change power relations between social actors, historical institutions and political concepts from a public sociology perspective could be the key to understanding the future construction of symbolic power, victims’ reparation and the role of public sociology in postconflict Colombia.

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References Amnesty International. 2013. Annual Report: Colombia 2013. London: Amnesty International. Beer, P. and F. Koster. 2009. Sticking Together or Falling Apart?: Solidarity in an Era of Individualization and Globalization. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press. Boss, P. and C. Dahl. 2014. “Family Therapy for the Unresolved Grief of Ambiguous Loss.” Pp. 171–182 in Bereavement Care for Families, edited by D. Kissane and F. Parnes. New York: Routledge. Burawoy, M. 2005. “For Public Sociology.” American Sociological Review 70(1):4–28. doi:10.1177/000312240507000102. CINEP. 2011. Deuda con la humanidad II. 23 años de falsos positivos: 1988–2011. Bogotá: CINEP/PPP. Estrada, A. 2010. “Del dolor a la propuesta: Voces del panel de víctimas.” Revista de Estudios Sociales 36:114–125. García de la Torre, C. and C. Aramburo. 2011. Geografías de la guerra, el poder y la resistencia. Oriente y Urabá antioqueños 1990–2008. Bogotá: ODECOFI. Honneth, A. 2007. Disrespect: The Normative Foundations of Critical Theory. Cambridge: Polity Press. Human Rights Watch. 2013. World Report. New York: Human Rights Watch. The International Committee of the Red Cross. 2018. Humanitarian Challenges 2018: ICRC Colombia Report. Bogotá: Red Cross Press. Jaramillo, O. 2003. El comité interinstitucional alianza para la reconstrucción integral de Granada, Antioquia. Medellín: Universidad de Antioquia. Manning, P.  2017. Transitional Justice and Memory in Cambodia. Beyond the Extraordinary Chambers. New York: Routledge. MINGA. 2009. Summary of Cases of Extrajudicial Killings in the Municipality of Soacha, Department of Cundinamarca, Colombia. Bogotá: MINGA. The National Centre of Historical Memory of Colombia (NCHM). 2013. Enough Already: Memories of War and Dignity. Bogotá: Colombian National Press. The National Centre of Historical Memory of Colombia (NCHM). 2018. Sujetos victimizados y daños causados: Balance de la contribución del CNMH al esclarecimiento histórico. Bogotá: Colombian National Press. The National Committee of Reparation and Reconciliation (CNRR). 2009. Memorias en Tiempos de Guerra. Repertorios de Iniciativas. Bogotá: CNRR Press. The National Committee of Reparation and Reconciliation (CNRR). 2011. San Carlos. Memorias del éxodo en la Guerra. Bogotá: CNRR Press. The Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR). 2010. Report on extrajudicial, summary or arbitrary executions in Colombia. New York: UN Press. PRODEPAZ. 2009. Balance social PRODEPAZ 2009–2010. Rionegro: PRODEPAZ. Tamayo Gomez, C. 2017. “Communicative Citizenship and Human Rights from a Transnational Perspective: Social Movements of Victims of Eastern Antioquia, Colombia.” Émulations 19:25–51. doi:10.14428/emulations.019.005. Tamayo Gomez, C. 2019. “Victims’ Collective Memory and Transitional Justice in Post-Conflict Colombia: The Case of the March of Light.” Memory Studies. doi:10.1177/1750698019882055. United Nations Development Programme (UNDP). 2010. Oriente Antioqueño: Análisis de la conflictividad. Bogotá: United Nations Development Programme Press.

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Section VII

Sharing knowledge toward public impact

The last section of this Handbook deals with the responsibility academic sociology has in engaging with the public. Sharing knowledge is foundational to academia, as professors profess their knowledge and students express their thoughts. King et al. examine an online mechanism for this process to occur, a blog where sociological ideas and research are spread through posts and comments. Williams and Webster similarly acknowledge the responsibility academic disciplines have to share knowledge by highlighting the role of subversion and collective movement many fields of study played to undermine the apartheid regime in South Africa. Sharing knowledge with the public is crucial for communication and emerging movements in a civil society, and this is a particular responsibility bestowed upon the public sociologist.

23 Everyday public sociology Colby R. King, Angelique C. Harris, Todd Schoepflin, Karen Sternheimer and Jonathan Wynn

Introduction In writing for the Everyday Sociology Blog (ESB), we should first share how we, as sociologists, develop questions and find our answers. Whether we reflect on teaching, research or broader happenings in social life, our essays often illustrate how we apply our sociological imaginations. In this way, we see our writing as good sociological practice, as it shares our knowledge and makes more explicit the means by which the sociological imagination can be implemented to provide context or share new perspectives on given topics. Our posts aim to give readers (students and others in the broader public) an ‘inside look’ into the process of doing sociology. We see this work as a vital contribution to the discipline, as we practice sharing the discipline toward a broader public impact. A perennial question many sociology instructors encounter is this: what can you do with sociology? One of our contributors (Colby R. King) remembers a time in graduate school, when his parents (who had not graduated from college and were unfamiliar with the discipline) asked him that very question about his chosen field of interest. In addition to inviting his parents to sit in while he taught a couple of classes, King also shared with them posts from the Everyday Sociology Blog as illustrations of how the discipline provided useful insights into everyday social life as well as their own circumstances. Peter Kaufman (2011b) wrote about this commonly posed question in a 2011 post called ‘Doing Sociology.’ As he recognized, one meaning of this question is about the jobs and opportunities available to sociologists. He pointed to information provided by the American Sociological Association about what kinds of careers sociologists have, and Karen Sternheimer’s (2010) earlier post ‘Sociology Majors on the Job Market’ highlighted the skills and abilities possessed by sociology majors, among other resources. But Kaufman also addressed how this question can have other meanings, detailing how this question can be asked: What do you do with the sociological knowledge you acquire? How do you navigate the social world with a sociological imagination? How do you take what you’ve learned or

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what you are learning and make it part of your everyday existence? In short, how does one do sociology? Answering these key questions is a major part of what we do at the ESB. We do not assume we have an ‘expert’ audience. We do not assume our readers are sociologists (not yet, at least). We do presume, however, that our audience will develop and apply their own sociological imaginations and offer essays encouraging sociological curiosity and provide tools for sociological thinking. In these ways, our work is public sociology as we communicate sociological knowledge for public impact.

The ESB as public sociology From the beginning, the Everyday Sociology Blog was conceived with a public sociology mission. The first Everyday Sociology Blog post was in May 2007, under the ownership and continued support of the publisher W. W. Norton. As early as 2003, sociology editors began talking with Sternheimer to develop a way to publish topical content to complement the publisher’s series of introductory texts. While unfamiliar with the blogosphere herself at the time, Sternheimer conceived of writing a series of essays combining sociological concepts with personal anecdotes. Through conversation with the editorial staff at Norton, this morphed into a blog site that now covers a wide range of topics drawn from the main writers’ daily lives as sociologists, educators and ‘everyday’ people. While the blog does not publish posts every day, the concept of ‘everyday’ is meant to inspire readers to consider the things that might otherwise seem to be mundane parts of their daily lives and then make sociological connections. Posts are likely a bit more curated than on other sites: they are edited by both a sociologist (Sternheimer) and a Norton editor. Although there is an attempt to post topics that are currently in the news or part of a larger national and international conversation, our editorial process allows for a bit more time for reflection and analysis. We emphasize using sociological tools rather than emotional responses to better understand trending topics, and a little lag time helps us in this regard. To date, the blog has published more than a thousand posts on topics ranging from key theoretical concepts to issues from popular culture and stories trending in the news. The blog has received more than 73 million page views and more than 9,000 comments. Eleven sociologists have served as regular writers, with five regular writers currently. Dozens of sociologists – including graduate students and even a handful of undergraduates – have contributed to the blog as guest writers as well. The blog has one basic requirement for authors: you must be a sociologist or a student of sociology working with an instructor in order to contribute. And out of this requirement, we have seen that our essays are often rooted in our everyday sociological practices, whether from interactions with fellow colleagues and students, insights from classroom experiences, discoveries in the research process, or a desire to offer a sociological analysis of current events. Regular ESB writers are under contract to submit a particular number of posts per year – some a little more, some a little less. But for most of us, we do feel a little pressure to keep thinking about what might make a good post. When the blog started, we presumed authors would primarily write about topics similar to their research interests, and for some, that has remained the case. The blog also frees us to write about topics we’re not necessarily experts in but know enough about to apply a sociological concept for a 750-word post. This means that we all keep an eye out for topics that we can use to write about next, including reading recent publications from colleagues in the discipline; 304

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even something we might not have otherwise chosen to read might be a good springboard for future content. Above all else, pre-eminent sociologist or not, we require that all posts be written in the most accessible way possible. In The Sociological Imagination, C. Wright Mills was critical of turgid, unintelligible prose, and the ESB avoids such writing. ‘To overcome the academic prose you have first to overcome the academic pose,’ wrote Mills (1959:219). Mills encouraged a clear style of writing, to say what one means in an unpretentious way; this is the style of writing featured in the Everyday Sociology Blog. For example, we try to avoid jargon but, if we do, we define it for the lay reader. Furthermore, we do not assume our readers are familiar with any sociological text, concept or author. Even Karl Marx, Max Weber and Émile Durkheim get brief titles before their names when invoked, and we link their work to Wikipedia or another site for readers to get a brief introduction. We don’t include formal citations but instead embed hyperlinks to encourage readers to expand their knowledge on a particular topic. The post ‘Intersectionality for Beginners’ by Kaufman (2018a) is a prime example of a post that seeks to introduce readers to a sociological concept and provide relevant context. Rather than assuming readers are familiar with the term ‘intersectionality,’ the post links to an essay by Kimberlé Crenshaw that provides additional introductory information. It also identifies Sojourner Truth and Anna Julia Cooper as black women who wrote about the intersection of being both black and a woman, long before the term intersectionality entered into more common usage. The post helps students learn about the origins of an important concept and to help students confidently employ intersectionality in their studies. We do, however, presume that a large percentage of our audience is composed of students taking a sociology class for the first time, as instructors often use our posts in their courses. Sternheimer’s (2019a) ‘How (and Why) to Write a Literature Review’ is an example of a post written with less experienced students in mind. The post provides guidance to help students tackle a challenging and intimidating task. Another example is Kaufman’s (2011a) ‘You Might Be a Marxist’ post – an engaging introduction to commodity fetishism, historical materialism, alienation and estrangement. And we know that there are also a lot of people who stumble upon our blog the same way they find any content online: they do a Google search for the topics or terms we use within our posts. Occasionally, journalists find a post and ask to interview us about the topics we wrote about. And then there are, judging from some of the comments, many of our readers who are very new to sociology. We do not have a strict policy on comments, but we tend not to respond directly to them. Our posts are more like conversation starters. It is rare when a comment is deleted. However, if a comment has violated the code of conduct for the average sociology class, it will be taken out. We want our site to be a safe space for learning and not a site for discord, anger and harsh debate. It is not altogether uncommon or unexpected for a sociological idea to attract some conflict, since well-established sociological research can challenge a reader’s worldview. In writing about the Sociological Images blog, for example, Wade and Sharp (2012) note that progressive posts about gender and race inequality may draw praise from one set of readers but backlash in the form of sexist and racist comments from another. ESB writers, in general, take it all in stride. This can make writing for the ESB a collaborative process as well. If we do not have the background to write about something, we can turn to one of the other regular writers to share an idea or think through a set of topics together. Because our posts are short and focus on basic concepts, it just takes a unique perspective, rather than years of research, to write a post that is interesting and informative to non-academic readers. 305

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Guest writers have offered valuable contributions on an array of subjects, including foundational theoretical and methodological concepts, Islamophobia (Faruqi 2014), social network analysis (Andrews 2016), theoretical perspectives of animals (Wrenn 2013) and a sociological analysis of nature (Van Valkenburgh 2014). In the case of Wynn collaborating with Angelique C. Harris, a post on Pokemon Go turned into an invitation to the latter to be a regular writer for the ESB.

Our diverse social identities and scholarly interests All ESB writers see our social identities and scholarly interests as shaping our writing. A personal reflection by Angelique C. Harris on her approach to blogging for ESB and how her identities shape her writing is a wonderful view into just how this works for us: Sociology provides students and scholars alike with the theories, methods, and research skills to help better understand our diverse social world and how we, and others, interact within it. Importantly, sociology also helps us to understand the power, resources, and privileges that we have access to based on how people perceive and respond to our social identities. However, it is important to note that as scholars and academics, we do not simply study different populations and groups, publish our study findings, and move on, as many sociologists in the past have done (and many continue to do). Many sociologists are now being forced to really grapple with the changes taking place in our social world and current political climate in a much more nuanced and public way than we had in the past. As such, it is vital that we share our work with not only our colleagues and students, but with the general public as well. For many sociologists that I know, sharing their work with the public is an easy feat as, at the core of all of our work and research is the deep desire to learn more about and further educate others about the issues we deeply care about, including our own social lives and identities. As sociologists, we are aware that we develop our personal identities, in part, through relationships we have with those who make up our social world and our daily lived experiences. Our identities influence how we perceive ourselves, our relationships, and importantly, how we experience and perceive our access to power, privileges, and resources. The renowned American poet, scholar, and activist Audre Lorde would often begin her essays by noting and explicitly listing her various identities – i.e. black, lesbian, mother, and feminist – in her work. Lorde does this to emphasize her positionality and the influence that her personal identity has on her worldview, interactions with others, and on her writings. As someone who shares many of the same identities as Lorde, I am similarly deeply aware of how my own positionality has influenced how I approach my role as an academic – in terms of my research, teaching, scholarship, and service – and my role as a sociologist, and in particular, my approach to public sociology. I am also aware of the fact that, in comparison to my white, cisgender, straight, male colleagues, there are not as many trained sociologists that share my various identities in academia. It is this awareness and the desire to learn more and teach more about the groups that share my personal identities that influenced my perspective as a scholar and my approach to ‘public’ sociology. Thus, issues of identity and social interaction are at the core of many of the blog posts I have written and many of the ones that I am drawn to as a reader. Writing about how one experiences their social identities is a long-standing tradition in sociology. W.E.B. DuBois, the first Black man to graduate from Harvard, and the first true (and arguably most successful) public sociologist, was also the first sociologist to explicitly 306

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write about race, racism, and the impact it has on power and social interactions and institutions. Queer scholars often study issues pertaining to queer communities. Women often study women, and so forth. My primary areas of research and teaching include race and ethnicity, gender and sexualities, class, medical sociology, and social movements. I am interested in how sociocultural factors influence social issues and problems among marginalized populations in the U.S. My work examines discrimination, marginalization, and how people work to address issues of injustice within their communities. Consequently, most of my research and writing examines people who experience multiple and intersecting issues and social problems – the experiences of people of color, queer people, women, and those at their intersections. The eight and a half (I co-authored a piece with Jonathan Wynn) essays that I have written for ‘Everyday Sociology’ all address issues of race, gender, sexualities, and social class. Just as I would in classes that I teach, in my essays I often either use sociological theories and concepts to help us better understand issues and events we often see in the news, in popular culture, or might even be experiencing in or own lives. C. Wright Mills argued that sociology provides its practitioners with the tools to not only understand one’s own personal troubles but larger public issues as well. Taking the opportunity to help educate people outside of my classroom, I use the essays in Everyday Sociology to discuss the issues that were not only of interest to me, but help others have a better understanding of how marginalized or disadvantaged groups experience the social world. In one essay (Harris 2018a), I used Janet Jackson’s ‘wardrobe malfunction’ to discuss misogynoir and cultural appropriation. I revisited this ‘malfunction’ the following year to discuss the perceptions of male and female and white and black bodies after Adam Levine performed topless during a Halftime Show and was not punished and fined like Jackson (Harris 2019). As racism in the queer community is often overlooked, I discussed multiple marginalization that queer people of color often experience and the attempt at representation in the updated pride flag (Harris 2017). I have discussed skin bleaching and colorism (Harris 2018b), race and biracial identities (Harris 2018c), and economic issues among millennials (Harris 2018d). And frankly, that is one of the main things that appeal to me about writing for the public. Although our students are great, being able to reach out to those beyond our classroom walls and to those who are not academics and scholars, but rather to the general public provides us with the opportunity to share some of our experiences with others so we can all develop a better understanding of our social world. It is apparent how vital it is to Harris to educate the public audience about discrimination, marginalization and injustice, and we can see how her identities inform her perspective. Contributors, past and present, have written creative, accessible posts about how their identities shape the way they experience everyday life and analyze contemporary societal issues. The post ‘Food: What’s Class Got to Do with It?’ is a reflection of the experience of shopping in a grocery store in a low-income neighborhood. Coming from an affluent neighborhood, Janis Prince Inniss (2011) explains that she is accustomed to well-stocked supermarkets, health food stores and farmers’ markets. She raises important issues such as the limited access to stores with quality food items and accompanying transportation challenges faced by people in low-income communities. In ‘Safety Pins and Being an Ally,’ Wynn (2016) writes from his position as a white male to discuss allyship and social action. ‘Can you be white and support Black Lives Matter? Can you be cis-gender and straight while also supporting LGBTQ causes?’ Wynn asks, acknowledging these questions have no easy answers and proceeding to discuss various perspectives and 307

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perceptions with respect to the support of marginalized groups and communities by people from privileged backgrounds. In the post ‘The Big Rig and the Sociology of Work,’ King (2018) describes how he incorporates Steve Viscelli’s book The Big Rig (2016) into his Sociology of Work course to help students learn about labor markets and the structure of work and to consider race, gender and age inequalities in the trucking industry. King identifies a personal connection to the material by writing about his grandfather, who spent his working life as a truck driver. The post is a good example of how a sociologist can blog about meaningful family and social class backgrounds while explaining how they teach sociology  – embracing the core idea of Mills’ sociological imagination. King’s students (many of whom are working class and/or first-generation college students) develop their sociological imaginations about work while gaining an understanding of how social structures will shape their work opportunities.

Few guidelines and unclear reward structures There is no one way to be a public sociologist. Public engagement can mean writing op-eds in local or national publications. It can mean testifying before congress or speaking with state representatives. It can mean TED talks and podcasts. It can mean developing a social media presence (Yuen 2019). It can mean doing radio and television interviews on topics ranging from April Fool’s pranks and music festivals (Wynn) to catfishing (Todd Schoepflin) to celebrity stardom (Sternheimer). Public engagement could mean working at a public institution and offering workshops and talks for first-generation, underrepresented minorities and working class college students or on current events. It could mean writing for the campus newspaper or placing a letter to the editor in the local newspaper. Those of us who write for ESB have embraced this broad spectrum of public sociology. Little of what we read in graduate school prepares us for this part of contemporary academic life. Only recently have public sociology classes been introduced to graduate curricula. ‘How to get tenure’ books (Boice 2000; Bakken and Simpson 2011; Lucas and Murry 2011) offer precious little about how social media and public engagement relates to our jobs and advancement in rank. Karen Kelsey’s The Professor Is In does mention social media, encouraging constructive and ‘conservative’ (i.e., non-incendiary) use (2015). But, overall, there are few frameworks for where to ‘place’ blogging work in our system of rewards for tenure and advancement in rank. The current set of ESB authors are from a range of institutions and geographic regions: Niagara University, University of Southern California, Marquette University, University of South Carolina Upstate and University of Massachusetts Amherst. At each, there are different campus missions and priorities; teaching loads; commitments to their communities and different balances of research, teaching and service. The co-authors also have a range of experiences in how our academic institutions respond to our public engagement work. Although other research-intensive ‘R1’ programs might not highly value social media work, Wynn’s experience at UMass Amherst has been positive. Public engagement is part of his department’s culture. Several senior UMass faculty are invested in public engagement, including a few co-editing a volume on public sociology (see Clawson et al. 2007). It is also built into the evaluation structure: there is space in the Annual Faculty Review forms for including blogging as a part of scholarship. Elsewhere on UMass Amherst’s campus is the Public Engagement Project, a program entering its sixth year. Each spring semester the program offers media training, white paper, and op-ed workshops (bringing in editors from The Conversation – an organization that helps scholars develop op-eds and finds placement for them in newspapers), that serves as an incubator for weekly learning sessions. Amy Schalet (whose work on teen 308

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sexuality garnered a lot of public media attention) and Lee Badgett (whose research has made significant policy contributions) were early leaders of the program. For Wynn’s tenure case, the department chair, dean and letter writers lauded his blogging and other public engagement as a significant part of his service. However, we recognize that context matters, not just for individuals in society, but also for sociologists in their institutions. Several of us suspect that those who teach at small liberal arts colleges and regional public universities have more formal and informal support for public engagement work like blogging from their institutions and departments. One ESB blogger, for example, was told that their work ‘wouldn’t count in the same way as peer-reviewed research,’ but another co-author was told that a tenure committee (at a public university with a 4/4 teaching load) would enthusiastically include their blogging in evaluations for tenure and advancement. One co-author was told that four blogs would count as one peer-reviewed article at their institution, and one of us suggested that faculty at more teaching-oriented institutions might be ‘reasonably expected to be more interested in supporting this kind of contribution to the discipline, in part because it shows that their professors are able to make the practical import of their discipline more accessible to a wider audience.’ And so, UMass Amherst  – with a strong political agenda and several senior faculty who strongly value public sociology  – may be an outlier among research-heavy universities. But there are also similarities with different institutions in this regard: state comprehensive universities (SCU’s) often have a history of public service, and as Henderson (2009) argued, ‘In an era when the need for expertise in business, education, government, and social services is well recognized, SCU’s faculty members who are willing to apply their expertise can provide major public service’ (9–10). The contributors to this chapter contend that our ESB essays represent a form of this kind of public service, as it makes critical insights of sociology more publicly accessible. Most of us note the ‘informal support’ provided by colleagues. Our colleagues range from being completely unaware of our blogging to using it regularly in their classes. One of us noted that their institution encourages media engagement, and that their sense is that their ‘institution is generally happy . . . especially if (in their view) we’re promoting the university brand in a positive way.’ Blogging for ESB has generated media requests and has been included in why search committees have been enthusiastic about our possible employment. Most of us feel that our blogging activity is celebrated so long as we maintain our ‘traditional’ scholarly work as well. We feel we are on safer ground when making the case to our colleagues that blogging is a part of our service contributions, rather than a supplement for more traditional research – even though what we write might not be all that dissimilar from an encyclopedia entry or a book review in Contemporary Sociology. It is our sense that blogging is often seen as an ‘under the radar’ activity that exists outside the rewards structure of tenure and advancement. We write for ESB, after all, because we believe in public engagement. We enjoy being part of the community of scholars who communicate sociological ideas to the public (Cohen 2012). According to one of us, ‘Even if it doesn’t “count” much in terms of the reward structure, I still feel good about sharing my sociological analysis to the public and I feel like I’m representing my university in a positive way.’ We are passionate about sociology and are eager to share our insights with a broad audience, including those who don’t have access to college classrooms or academic journals (Jones 2019). As co-authors, while we do have a ‘love of the game,’ we would not recommend that departments merely consider this kind of work as a labor of love. We feel that writing public sociology should be supported and rewarded at all levels. As wonderful as informal support can be, developing departmental cultures around public engagement is a worthwhile aspiration, particularly as it can be an avenue for engaging with 309

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broader communities of underrepresented minority, first generation and working class students. We would, therefore, recommend implementing more formal structures for rewarding such work. This could include providing specific spaces for public engagement in Annual Faculty Review forms and encouraging personnel committees to include long form social media writing like blogging as service at a minimum and, if at a more teaching-oriented institution, as a part of research activity or contribution to the content of the discipline.

Everyday sociology as good sociological practice The teacher-scholar model Many of our essays at the ESB also offer public insight into our practice as teacher-scholars. As Kuh, Chen, and Laird (2007) explain, teacher-scholars are committed to high-quality undergraduate education, pursue an active program of research and scholarship, and are presumed to enliven and enrich their teaching and the student experience by incorporating insights from their own research into their instructional activities, student advising, and related work. Each ESB contributor expresses these same commitments in their writing, as they reflect on their research, teaching and service in their posts for the blog. Sternheimer’s (2019b) post, ‘Researcher Reflexivity: Why Who We Are Matters’ provides a great example of everyday teacher-scholar practice. The essay reads much like a conversation a professor would have with a student during office hours, and, like many other ESB posts, seems to draw on their sociological work across research, teaching and mentorship and thereby illustrates the author’s everyday practice as a teacher-scholar. At a time when many students express concern about bias among researchers, Sternheimer’s post makes a clear and useful argument highlighting how being personally interested in a research topic does not necessarily mean that the research is ‘biased.’ Sternheimer explains how it is possible for research to avoid imposing bias in their research by reflecting on their own assumptions and by being ‘open to the possibility that their assumptions or predictions are wrong.’ Sternheimer includes videos in which sociologists Deborah Carr and Ann Travers discuss how their personal experiences have shaped their research questions without imposing bias on the results of their work. This essay is just one example among many on the blog in which the contributor responds to a common, and critical, question sociology students often raise and does so in a way that is informed by the author’s teacher-scholar practices.

Public engagement as good sociological practice The complexities of public engagement are explored in much more detail throughout this book, but there are, of course, ongoing debates about sociology’s disposition toward public engagement. A good, though bittersweet, example of ESB essays as good sociological practice includes one essay by, and another in remembrance of, longtime ESB contributor Kaufman. Kaufman (2018b) posted an essay he titled ‘A Sociology of My Death’ in which he applied a sociological perspective in discussing the circumstances of his lung cancer diagnosis. While recognizing that death is a deeply personal process, ever a sociologist, he also discussed how all the

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experiences a person has are inherently social. As he explained, ‘Our most personal thoughts and emotions are largely products of our social experiences, our social environment, and the social expectations that are thrust upon us.’ After Peter’s death, Schoepflin (2018) posted a tribute to Kaufman. The essay shares beautiful anecdotes about Peter’s life, highlights many of his ESB posts and points to several of Kaufman’s important scholarly accomplishments, including the recent publication of his book, co-authored with Janine Schipper, Teaching with Compassion: An Educator’s Oath to Teach from the Heart (Kaufman and Schipper 2018). Even in this remembrance, though, Schoepflin exemplifies everyday public sociological practice. Schoepflin illustrates how they inspired each other’s sociological imaginations and worked as teacher-scholars, as they asked each other questions, shared relevant articles and pushed each other in collaborating on projects that brought sociology to a broader audience. In a widely criticized post at OrgTheory, Fabio Rojas (2019) asked ‘What if sociology does not really want to have a public impact?’ While we appreciated that he included the Everyday Sociology Blog on his short list of sociology blogs, we think there is a greater public impact from sociology blogs than he estimates. We are inclined to agree with Tressie McMillan Cottom (@tressiemcphd) (2019), who in response to Rojas’ post, asked rhetorically on Twitter, ‘You know who does “public” work writ large? Black scholars. Women Scholars. Young scholars.’ We are inclined to agree with her assessment that Rojas’ post was ‘myopic.’ It must also be said that scholars of color who engage publically are subject to hostile treatment. Writing about her social location as a black woman with a significant following on social media, McMillan Cottom (2015) talks about threats to her security (including death threats) and doubts about her academic credibility (‘Who the f**k do you think you are?’ is the type of comment she’s received many times). She writes: As a public writer, academic and black woman, my location at the bottom of a racist, sexist social hierarchy mitigates the presumed returns on academic public engagement specifically and makes a case for reconsidering the theoretical assumptions of microcelebrity more broadly. In this vein, we want to note the valuable impact of the Conditionally Accepted blog, which has focused on the experiences of marginalized scholars since being founded in 2013 by sociologist Eric Anthony Grollman. Editor at the time of this writing, Victor Ray, also a sociologist, has stated that the blog helps to serve as a kind of collective political resource for marginalized folks who are geographically dispersed but probably experiencing similar types of exclusion. I’ve had more than one person contact me following a ‘Conditionally Accepted’ post to say that they used the post to help push for material changes on their campus. (Ray 2019) In our work, we have found that academic blogs like the ESB play critical roles in how sociologists and the discipline more broadly engages with the public. Beyond all the other things our posts accomplish, contributors also embrace public engagement. For example, after Roberta Magnani’s twitter hashtag #followfirstgenerationacademics became a point of connection and space for discussion for first-generation academics across disciplines in late 2017, King wrote a post on the issue for the blog.

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The post identified scholars engaged in the conversation and explained the hashtag. The essay also discussed relevant research that explained why first-generation academics would be looking to make connections. The essay recognized Deborah Warnock’s (2014) argument that the working class often gets overlooked in academia because many assume that ‘the whole point of attending college IS to change one’s social class identity.’ King collected and shared links to several related essays already on the ESB, and for readers who wanted to learn more, the essay, pointed toward Allison Hurst’s book The Burden of Academic Success (2010) and Krista Soria’s (2015) report ‘Welcoming Blue-Collar Scholars into the Ivory Tower.’ After the essay posted to the ESB, it was shared by several of those academics engaged in the #followfirstgenerationacademics discussion and contributed to a broader and more detailed conversation on the challenges and opportunities for first generation academics. Throughout these and other posts, a common theme is that the posts illuminate ways in which public sociology is good sociological practice. As the contributors apply their sociological perspectives to engage with news, cultural conversations and activities in the discipline itself, the contributors also reveal how their work puts a teacher-scholar model into practice.

Public understanding of sociology Many sociologists feel that once you develop your own sociological imagination, the paradigm permeates your thinking in everyday life. Writing for The Society Pages, Doug Hartmann (2011) – who at the time was an editor for Contexts – shared a reflection by Alex Casey, an undergraduate and a research assistant for Contexts. Casey wrote about how many see sociology majors as ‘annoying’ because ‘those of us trained to think sociologically simply can’t accept anything at face-value.’ She recognized that this can make dates and casual conversations less fun (for some!), but there are positives too. As Casey explained, ‘The beauty of the sociologicallyenthused is that we aren’t know-it-alls with every answer, but we do know, before we accept anything, what questions should be asked.’ Public sociology can help any person in society ask sociologically informed questions about the world around them. Public sociology can challenge new audiences to grapple with social problems and possible solutions (Allen et al. 2019). Recognizing the role that social institutions and social structure plays in our lives is very difficult for the uninitiated, yet vitally important to understand the interlocking privileges and inequalities that shape our everyday lives and life chances. We hope to make the process of identifying and understanding the factors that shape social life fun and intellectually stimulating, both in and outside of the traditional classroom, every day.

References Allen, Kim, Sarah De Benedictis, Kayleigh Garthwaite, Tracey Jensen, and Ruth Patrick. 2019. “The Potentials and Pitfalls of Public Sociology.” The Sociological Review, May 16. Retrieved (www.thesocio logicalreview.com/the-potentials-and-pitfalls-of-public-sociology/). Andrews, Christopher. 2016. “Social Networks, Interlocking Directorates, and the Power Elite.” Everyday Sociology Blog, March 9. Retrieved (www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2016/03/social-networks-inter locking-directorates-and-the-power-elite.html). Badgett, V.M. Lee. 2015. The Public Professor: How to Use Your Research to Change the World. New York: New York University Press. Bakken, Jeffrey P. and Cynthia G. Simpson. 2011. A Survival Guide for New Faculty Members. Springfield, IL: Charles C Thomas Pub. Boice, Robert. 2000. Advice for New Faculty Members: Nihil Nimus. Boston, MA: Allyn and Bacon. 312

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Clawson, Dan, Robert Zussman, Joya Misra, Naomi Gerstel, Randall Stokes and Douglas L. Anderton. 2007. Fifteen Eminent Sociologists Debate Politics and the Profession in the Twenty-First Century. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Cohen, Philip. 2012. “Should Every Sociologist Blog?” Family Inequality Blog, March 29. Retrieved from https://familyinequality.wordpress.com/2012/03/29/should-every-sociologist-blog/ Faruqi, Saadia. 2014. “Is Islamophobia a Form of Racism (And Does it Even Matter)?” Everyday Sociology Blog, October 27. Retrieved (www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2014/10/is-islamophobia-a-form-ofracism-and-does-it-even-matter.html). Harris, Angelique. 2017. “What’s in a Color? The Addition of Black and Brown to the Rainbow Pride Flag.” Everyday Sociology Blog, November 20. Retrieved (www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2017/11/ whats-in-a-color-the-addition-of-black-and-brown-to-the-rainbow-pride-flag.html). Harris, Angelique. 2018a. “The Malfunction Heard Around the World: Cultural Appropriation, White Privilege, and Misogynoir.” Everyday Sociology Blog, January  22. Retrieved (www.everydaysociology blog.com/2018/01/the-malfunction-heard-around-the-world-cultural-appropriation-white-pri vilege-and-misogynoir.html). Harris, Angelique. 2018b. “Dove Body Wash, Colorism, and Skin Bleaching.” Everyday Sociology Blog, April 2. Retrieved (www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2018/04/dove-body-wash-colorism-and-skinbleaching.html). Harris, Angelique. 2018c. “Race, Identity, and the British Royal Family.” Everyday Sociology Blog, June 25. Retrieved (www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2018/06/race-identity-and-the-british-royal-family.html). Harris, Angelique. 2018d. “Movin’ on up and Movin’ on Home: Millennials Returning Home.” Everyday Sociology Blog, June  11. Retrieved (www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2018/06/movin-on-up-andmovin-on-home-millennials-returning-home.html). Harris, Angelique. 2019. “Nipplegate 2.0: Privilege and the Construction of the Body.” Everyday Sociology Blog, February  13. Retrieved (www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2019/02/nipplegate-20-privilegeand-the-construction-of-the-body.html). Hartmann, Doug. 2011. “Is Sociology Ruining Your Fun?” The Society Pages, July 25. Retrieved (https:// thesocietypages.org/editors/2011/07/25/is-sociology-ruining-your-fun/). Henderson, Bruce. 2009. “The Work of the People’s University.” Teacher-Scholar: The Journal of the State Comprehensive University 1(1):5–29. Hurst, Allison L. 2010. The Burden of Academic Success: Loyalists, Renegades, and Double Agents. Lanham, MD: Lexington. Jones, Hannah. 2019. “Stating the Sociological.” The Sociological Review, April 13. Retrieved (www.the sociologicalreview.com/stating-the-sociological-hannah-jones/). Kaufman, Peter. 2011a. “You Might Be a Marxist.” Everyday Sociology Blog, July  26. Retrieved (www. everydaysociologyblog.com/2011/07/you-might-be-a-marxist.html). Kaufman, Peter. 2011b. “Doing Sociology.” Everyday Sociology Blog, September 1. Retrieved (www.every daysociologyblog.com/2011/09/doing-sociology.html). Kaufman, Peter. 2018a. “Intersectionality for Beginners.” Everyday Sociology Blog, April  23. Retrieved (www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2018/04/intersectionality-for-beginners.html). Kaufman, Peter. 2018b. “A Sociology of My Death.” Everyday Sociology Blog, September 14. Retrieved (www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2018/09/a-sociology-of-my-death.html). Kaufman, Peter and Janine Schipper. 2018. Teaching with Compassion: An Educator’s Oath to Teach from the Heart. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield. Kelsey, Karen. 2015. The Professor is In: The Essential Guide to Turning Your Ph.D. Into a Job. New York: Random House. King, Colby. 2018. “The Big Rig and the Sociology of Work.” Everyday Sociology Blog, February  5. Retrieved (www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2018/02/the-big-rig-and-the-sociology-of-work.html). Kuh, George, Daniel Chen, and Thomas F. Nelson Laird. 2007. “Why Teacher-Scholars Matter: Some Insights from FSSE and NSSE.” Liberal Education 93(4):40–45. Lucas, Christopher and John W. Murry. 2011. New Faculty: A Practical Guide for Academic Beginners. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. 313

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McMillan Cottom, Tressie. 2015. “ ‘Who Do You Think You Are?’: When Marginality Meets Academic Microcelebrity.” Ada: A Journal of Gender, New Media, and Technology: 7. McMillan Cottom, Tressie. (@tressiemcphd). 2019. “You Also Have to Understand Public as Mostly About High-Profile Publics You Know Who Does ‘Public’ Work Writ Large? Black Scholars. Women Scholars. Young Scholars. The Idea That There Are Only Four – Four!- Sociology Blogs of Note Is Hilariously Myopic on Its Face.” Tweet, April 10. Retrieved (https://twitter.com/tressiemcphd/status/ 1115906232953516032?s=03). Mills, C. Wright. 1959. The Sociological Imagination. New York: Oxford University Press. Prince Inniss, Janis. 2011. “Food: What’s Class Got to Do With It?” Everyday Sociology Blog, July  18. Retrieved (www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2011/07/food-whats-class-got-to-do-with-it.html) Ray, Victor. 2019. “Why I Write for the Public.”Inside Higher Ed, May 17. Retrieved (www.insidehighered.com/ advice/2019/05/17/academics-should-write-public-political-personal-and-practical-reasons-opinion). Rojas, Fabio. 2019. “What If Sociology Does Not Really Want to Have a Public Impact? Commentary on Economics and Sociology Blogs.” Orgtheory.net, April 10. Retrieved (https://orgtheory.wordpress. com/2019/04/10/what-if-sociology-does-not-really-want-to-have-a-public-impact-commentaryon-economics-and-sociology-blogs/). Schoepflin, Todd. 2018. “A Tribute to Peter Kaufman.” Everyday Sociology Blog, November 30. Retrieved (www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2018/11/a-tribute-to-peter-kaufman.html). Soria, Krista M. 2015. Welcoming Blue-Collar Scholars Into the Ivory Tower: Developing Class-Conscious Strategies for Students’ Success. Columbia, SC: National Resource Center for the First-Year Experience and Students in Transition. Sternheimer, Karen. 2010. “Sociology Majors on the Job Market.” Everyday Sociology Blog, February 18. Retrieved (https://nortonbooks.typepad.com/everydaysociology/2010/02/sociology-majors-on-thejob-market.html). Sternheimer, Karen. 2019a. “How (and Why) to Write a Literature Review.” Everyday Sociology Blog, February  11. Retrieved (www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2019/02/how-and-why-to-write-a-literature-review.html). Sternheimer, Karen. 2019b. “Researcher Reflexivity: Why Who We Are Matters.” Everyday Sociology Blog, March  25. Retrieved (www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2019/03/researcher-reflexivity-why-whowe-are-matters.html). Van Valkenburgh, Shawn. 2014. “The Sociology of ‘Zombie Ants’ ” Everyday Sociology Blog, April  24. Retrieved (www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2014/04/the-sociology-of-zombie-ants.html). Viscelli, Steve. 2016. The Big Rig: Trucking and the Decline of the American Dream. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Wade, Lisa and Gwen Sharp. 2012. “Sociological Images: Blogging as Public Sociology.” Social Science Computer Review 31(2):221–228. Warnock, Deborah M. 2014. “On the Other Side of What Tracks? The Missing Discussion of Social Class in the Academy.” Rhizomes:27. Retrieved (http://rhizomes.net/issue27/index.html). Wrenn, Corey Lee. 2013. “The Sociological Perspective on Other Animals.” Everyday Sociology Blog, June  20. Retrieved (www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2013/06/the-sociological-perspective-onother-animals.html). Wynn, Jonathan. 2016. “Safety Pins and Being an Ally.” Everyday Sociology Blog, December 2. Retrieved www.everydaysociologyblog.com/2016/12/safety-pins-and-being-an-ally.html. Yuen, Nancy Wang. 2019. “My Journey in Public Sociology.” Contexts 18(2):56–57.

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24 Public sociology and worker education The story of the Global Labour University in South Africa Michelle Williams and Edward Webster

Introduction In this essay, we discuss the role of South African social sciences in worker education. South African academia has a long history of engagement with the world around it, in what Michael Burawoy and others call ‘public sociology.’ During the anti-apartheid struggle, universities were one of the central sites of struggle – where progressive academics and students formed a formidable alliance with communities, labour and the underground liberation movement. In this regard, disciplines like sociology, history and politics engaged the world and resisted state oppression through creating alternative narratives to the apartheid state. History from below, public sociology and engaged political studies were the direct manifestations of this process, making universities vibrant spaces of debate, engagement and resistance. At the same time, South African unions were pioneering ‘social movement unionism’ – that is, trade unions linking up with communities – in the common struggle against apartheid, integrating labour issues with political and civil rights issues. One notable feature of the South African experience is the role of public sociology, in which labour scholars worked in close relation to the burgeoning labour movement. The role of progressive academics – both students and professors – in facilitating the development of a powerful, creative and respected labour movement in the 1980s and 1990s is well recognised. The role of education has always been central to the South African labour movement, going through three distinct phases over the 20th century (Webster 2019). Since the 1970s, the link to academia has played an important role, but this changed markedly in the post-apartheid period. It is in this context that the experience of the Global Labour University (GLU) programme at the University of the Witwatersrand (known as Wits) is significant. The Global Labour University programme at Wits University is a trade union–oriented programme offering postgraduate degrees and certificate courses to trade unionists and labour activists in an effort to provide university-level education to a critical sector of civil society. The idea is to assist the labour movement in gaining better understanding of the complex conditions of the 21st century: ‘[t]he assumption behind the GLU is that the shift to neo-liberal [sic] globalisation has introduced 315

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a new paradigm which requires analytical skills that are best acquired in advanced courses in a university, rather than within traditional trade union courses’ (Webster 2019:17). But, and this became a central goal of GLU-Wits, this knowledge was either rapidly disappearing from universities or still needed to be created, as the older generation of labour academics had reached retirement age and a new generation of labour academics needed to be created. So, in addition to teaching, a crucial part of GLU involves joint research, faculty and student exchange and the organisation of conferences for GLU alumni on global labour. The GLU-Wits programme originated through an international collaboration with scholars in Germany at Kassel University and the Berlin School of Economics and Law, the International Labour Organization (ILO) and labour scholars at Wits University. The idea was that labour movements, as one of the crucial civil society actors, needed access to high-level critical education to develop the capacity to challenge neoliberal globalisation and the negative impacts on labour. The GLU programme is a counter to the pervasive and well-funded MBA programmes that capital has created. Indeed, GLU is the labour-oriented, progressive alternative to the corporate-funded MBA programmes that have risen to dominance and proliferated across the world since the mid-20th century. GLU took as its starting point that one of the disadvantages labour faces in challenging corporations and the state is in its capacity to contest the neoliberal understandings and rationalities about how the economy works. In order to help labour more effectively counter neoliberal dogma, the GLU programme emerged to provide critical education to worker organisations and labour movements more generally. One of the underpinning assumptions of GLU is that education is transformative and powerful. Since its beginning in 2006/2007, the GLU-Wits programme has developed in exciting and innovative ways.

Public sociology and the Global Labour University According to Michael Burawoy (2015), sociology is defined by its standpoint in relation to civil society, whereas economics has a standpoint in relation to the market, and political studies is in relation to the state. Seen in this relational context, public sociology, then, is defined by its ‘critical engagement with civil society against the over-extension of market and state’ (Burawoy 2015:1). This public engagement takes many forms, but its common feature is ‘generat[ing] public debate about public issues’ (Burawoy 2015:6) through a sociological lens – that is, a lens that looks for deeper forces, processes and structures shaping contemporary societies. Such a venture is vital in the context of increasing privatisation and marketisation of universities, where a public good (education and knowledge) is increasingly enclosed as a private privilege for those who can afford it (Burawoy 2015:8). One of the notable features of the neoliberal era is the ‘ex-commodification’ of labour through labour’s ‘expulsion of access to the market’ (Burawoy 2015:15). This has resulted in growing levels of unemployment (nearly two-thirds of the world’s working population are in the ‘informal’ sector) and precariously employed to such an extent that we can now speak of the working poor, the precariat and wageless majorities in many places of the world. With this, we see rising anti-migrant, sexist, nationalist and fascist counter-movements that define their communities based on exclusionary forms of solidarity and hatred of ‘other.’ There are also progressive counter-movements emerging such as the global climate justice movement. It is in this context that the GLU programme’s focus on raising the ability of the working class to understand the underlying forces of capitalist society stands out. GLU is an international network of universities, unions and support organisations with five university programmes across the world (Wits in South Africa, University of Campinas in Brazil, Jawaharlal Nehru University in India, Penn State University in the United States and University of Kassel and 316

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Berlin School of Economics and Law in Germany). These programmes offer dedicated postgraduate degrees in labour studies for trade unionists, labour activists and labour experts. The university programmes partner with national trade unions and union federations, global unions, the Friedrich Ebert Stiftung (FES) and the International Labour Organization, who together make up the GLU network. As a network, by 2020, the GLU campuses graduated over 600 unionists from the five GLU programmes.

Trade unionists in the South African University: the GLU-Wits programme With the rise of neoliberal capitalism, we have also seen the rise of authoritarianism, Left and Right populism and fascist movements together with the fragmenting and weakening of labour movements in various parts of the world. Indeed, the context in which labour operates today is much more complicated than it was when the GLU-Wits programme began in 2006/2007. In South Africa, the conditions have become acute: the labour movement has fragmented; we see increasing retrenchments, the dismantling of industrial policy and the rise of informal sectors, leaving labour’s position in the democratic era more precarious than ever. Violent attacks on cross-border migrants have been ongoing, fuelled by thinly veiled racial and ethnic fearmongering in the public discourse. Many of these migrants risk their lives in dangerous livelihood strategies, such as the informal miners, the so-called zama zamas, searching for gold in the abandoned deep-level mines of Johannesburg and its surrounding towns. When fatal accidents happen, as they do frequently when a mine collapses or toxic gasses spread, xenophobic attitudes come to the fore. Given this context, programmes like GLU are more important today than they were even just ten years ago. South Africa has a long tradition of worker education that parallels the country’s political developments. The history of worker education in South Africa is ‘intimately linked to the racially segmented nature of the labour market which accorded differential status and material rewards to different sections of the working class’ (Webster 2019:1). The labour movement reflected these divisions in two broad traditions: ‘a predominantly white labourist tradition, and a fragile non-racial tradition rooted in the African working class’ (Webster 2019:1; Buhlungu and Webster 2009:387). Within the non-racial tradition in the African working class, we can periodise four distinct periods of worker education: the communist tradition dating back to the Russian revolution in 1917, the workerist tradition linked to the 1973 Durban strikes, the professional tradition emerging in the post-1994 democratic era and the emergent initiatives outside of the established unions in the new millennium. These different phases of worker education ‘mirror the strengths, weaknesses and divisions of the labour movement’ (Webster 2019:2). An important feature of the workerist tradition was the involvement of academics in worker education. In the 70s and 80s there was a broad flowering of labour support organisations such as the Labour Research Services in Cape Town and progressive research entities at universities, such as the Trade Union Research Project (TURP) at the University of Natal and the History Workshop at the University of the Witwatersrand. These organisations provided intellectual and physical resources for worker education. For example, labour academics at the University of the Witwatersrand ran a regular two-week labour studies course on the campus for the emerging trade union federation, the Federation of South African Trade Unions (FOSATU), between 1980 and 1982. There were modules on labour law, labour history, the labour process and worker organisation, as well as contemporary political economy.1 This tradition of university involvement in trade union education continued into the 90s: the University of Natal 317

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introduced a full degree programme in Industrial, Organizational and Labour Studies in partnership with the Workers college, the University of the Western Cape introduced a programme for trade unionists in Management and Labour Studies and the University of Cape Town pioneered a course on Labour Studies in the school of adult education. A key feature of the workerist tradition of worker education was the emphasis on history in the curriculum. As Callinicos observes: In the worker education of that period, the reading of history profoundly affected its direction. The importance of shop floor issues, worker participation and decision making, and the organisers [sic] accountability to workers were stressed. The interpretation of the past dwelt on the errors of office bound and legal unionism – such as existed in both white and black unions in the forties and fifties – as well as on the vulnerability of the high profile, political unionism of SACTU, and its fragile base on the shop floor. (Callinicos 1993:168) Another example of the way in which history was used in a didactic way in order to draw lessons for the workers’ struggle was the late Phil Bonner’s lectures on the Industrial and Commercial Workers Union (ICU). Bonner argued that the only section of the ICU’s membership that could be organised was the African urban working class and that it was in their ‘failure to organise this group that the ICU can chiefly be criticized’ (Bonner 1978:114–120).2 For the late Jeff Guy, a leading historian of the Zulu people, understanding and learning from history was an essential aspect of worker education, particularly worker history, which draws on and reflects back on workers’ own experiences and struggles: Worker education should go beyond training. . . . [I]t should seek to empower workers by enabling them to challenge the ideas and concepts by which capital seeks to control them. Worker history should play a central role in such a project. It allows students not only to understand the concerns and ambitions of the working class, but recognizes the importance of their own experiences, perceptions and knowledge. (Guy 1998:78) In the context of the emergence of the African National Congress (ANC) as the ruling political party post 1994, a new vision of work and industrial relations emerged within the government as a response to globalisation. The goal of the new labour relations regime, the government believed, was to consolidate and extend worker rights while opening up the possibility of greater cooperation in the workplace. The hope was that the labour movement would shift from resistance to reconstruction, through the use of influence in the heart of decision-making in the new legislation and labour market institutions introduced at the plant, enterprise, sector and national levels (Von Holdt 2000). This required a more nuanced use of power by the key actors in the industrial relations system  – from government and employers an acceptance of labour as an equal partner, and from labour the capacity and willingness to actively participate in a spirit of compromise in these new institutions. Although rhetorical support was given to this shift, from the beginning, all three social partners gave only half-hearted support to the new labour regime. In some cases employers, through the extensive use of labour brokers, transformed the employment relationship and actively undermined the spirit behind the new labour relations regime (Webster 2014). Although the new Labour Relations Act (LRA) introduced in 1995 was celebrated for its extension of rights to all workers, increasingly, employers took advantage of a loophole in the act to bypass these new rights. 318

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This was the contested context within which a new approach to worker education emerged in the 1990s. The most ambitious initiative was the establishment of the Development Institute for Training, Support and Education for Labour (Ditsela). It was established in 1996 by the main trade union federations in South Africa  – with the exception of National Council of Trade Unions (NACTU) – and the financial support of the Department of Labour. Their aim was to help build and strengthen trade union organisations through innovative and creative programmes with a sustained duration, combining structured contact learning hours, field work and short topical seminar series as a response to the multidimensional challenges facing the labour movement. (Ditsela, n.d.) The flagship programme of Ditsela has become the Trade Union Practice Qualification (TUPQ). It is an accredited level 4 qualification in trade unionism run as a Further Education and Training Certificate at the University of the Western Cape. It is supported by the Education Development and Training Practices Sector Education Training Authority (EDTP SETA). The course consists of seven modules: how trade unions work, political economy, the law as an organising tool, organising workers, women’s and other forms of oppression, building effective organisation and a choice between a number of elective courses (Ditsela 2009:72). One way of describing this new approach is that worker education had become more professional, with a greater emphasis on the worker-students acquiring certificates and accreditation from the new National Qualifications Framework (NQF) introduced in the 1990s. Not surprisingly, a particular interest among students is labour law, a reflection of a more instrumental approach to worker education (Cooper, Grossman, and Andrew 2003). A feature of the post-apartheid period, has been a decline of interest in worker education in the established unions. A number of initiatives have emerged over the past decade outside of the educational activities of organised labour (Webster 2019). The GLU-Wits programme is a leading example of one of these initiatives. In 2007, Wits University opened the doors of learning to trade union education and created a dynamic and hospitable environment for trade unionists. The postgraduate GLU-Wits programme has a special focus on labour, policy and globalisation and aims to build capacity and competence for trade unions on the continent in order to enable labour’s constructive engagement to improve the position of working people and society in Africa. At one level, GLU-Wits is about ensuring university access to labour movements, workers and labour activists. At another level, it is about enabling unions and other social movements to engage in the issues of policy, dialogue and debate in order to strengthen their bargaining position. To this end, GLU-Wits works closely with unions and worker organisations with trade union partners in each programme. For example, from its beginning, the Congress of South African Trade Unions (COSATU) sits on the GLU-Wits steering committee representing labour. Thus, GLU is both an international network of nationally rooted university-based postgraduate programmes that are context specific, but within a network of global partners. Our global network translates into labour solidarity across regions, continents and the world. For South Africa, developing the GLU-Wits programme comes out of a long tradition in sociology, which had strong historical ties to anti-apartheid movements and deep engagements with civics, unions and community organisations, producing engaged and critical analysis of South African conditions. In the 21st century, there have been attempts at bringing the tradition of public sociology (distinct from the other vibrant tradition of policy sociology) into the university through education programmes directly targeting labour, unions, precarious workers 319

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and social movements. It also draws on the long tradition of worker education that sees education as imperative to empowering workers as a class (Webster 2019:2). What is important about GLU-Wits is that it simultaneously engages civil society (trade unions and labour activists) and challenges the university to open its hallowed halls to the working class. In this way, it takes the idea of public engagement directly into the university by prying open spaces for common knowledge and critical thinking to the working class. It is not policy oriented, but helps unionists develop the knowledge to engage policy themselves. It is not critical sociology, but teaches critical thinking to unionists. It is not professional sociology, but opens the professional space of the university to unionists. For the GLU-Wits programme, it has been an exciting and challenging journey. On the one hand, running a programme that caters to trade unionists within the university environment is not easy, as trade union education is not the primary mandate of any university. This means that we have had to engage the university to adjust and adapt itself to allow space for such a programme as well as provide the unionists extra support to ensure their transition into the university space is productive and engaging rather than alienating and frustrating. On the other hand, getting trade unions to support GLU has been even more challenging. Unions are famously over-burdened and understaffed and lack resources. In addition, many union leaders and officials do not see the direct benefit of university-level education for their unions and often feel threatened by such programmes. GLU-Wits has tried to overcome both of these challenges by insisting on union endorsement for participants in the GLU programme. Participants in the programme are endorsed by a membership-based organisation, and the knowledge they gain is transferred back to the members in those organisations. In other words, worker education differs from the traditional binary relationship involving teacher and student: it is a three-way relationship, involving the worker/student, the lecturer and the trade union from which they come (for an illustration of this three-way relationship, see Webster 2019:3) Indeed, worker education involves learning through organising. A central goal of worker education is to help build the collective power of workers into a movement or worker-controlled organisation. In response to this goal, GLU-Wits has introduced in its certificate courses a week-long module focusing on ways of organising as well as a two-week module on mapping as a research and organising tool. Worker education differs from traditional academic education in two further ways. First, the emphasis in worker education is on the actual needs and experience of workers and a recognition that they bring this knowledge to the classroom. This approach has been captured best by Paulo Freire in his critique of what he called the ‘banking’ model of education, in which the student was viewed as an empty vessel to be filled by the teacher (Freire 1970). From Freire’s perspective, education should allow the oppressed to regain their sense of humanity, in turn overcoming their condition while raising their consciousness. A second emphasis in worker education is on the group rather than the individual. Much of worker education is interactive and involves group learning and often group assessment. Many of the learning activities are group-based, problemsolving activities. Indeed, Linda Cooper (2006) describes the trade union as a ‘learning organisation,’ where informal learning takes place in a collective and non-hierarchical way. For GLU-Wits, education in the classroom is only part of the vision. The GLU programme has also tried to create the conditions for solidarity building within countries and regions and internationally. Solidarity, however, is not easily forged. There is negative solidarity built on exclusionary categories of race, ethnicity, gender, nationality, religion, unions, federations, formal versus informal work and so on. These are categories that divide people, hierarchise groups against each other and focus on difference as bounded categories of exclusion. Solidarities built on exclusion reinforce unequal power relations and often reinforce powerful institutions 320

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that regulate our lives such as religion, politics, patriarchy, inequality and access to economic livelihoods. There is another more powerful form of solidarity built on the principles of humanness, of equality of all, of socioeconomic and ecological justice. This solidarity rejects the othering of people based on gender, race, religion, nationality, work, union affiliation or different cultures. The solidarity GLU-Wits tries to build is one in which participants from around the world find each other through a common humanity with varied backgrounds. To do this, however, requires an openness and willingness to embrace differences and learn from each other. It requires letting go of petty individual interests, insecurities and fear of the other. Trade union education brings these issues into the classroom and insists that this is part of the learning for the unions as well as the individuals. To concretely reinforce solidarity, since 2016, GLU-Wits has hosted an annual alumni workshop that brings between 20 and 30 alumni to Wits to present on their work in the unions. Out of these alumni workshops, regional alumni forums have grown. One indication of the success of the programme is that since 2007, GLU-Wits has graduated over 250 labour activists from 33 countries through its masters (MA) and honours programmes, its annual two-month certificate course for unionists and labour activists and its annual onemonth certificate course for South African unionists and labour activists. The GLU-Wits flagship programme is a coursework honours and masters in Labour, Policy and Globalisation, with a combination of compulsory courses (e.g. Research Methodology, Labour and Development and Economic Sociology) and elective courses (from within the School of Social Sciences or the School of Economics). The MA students also do a research report, which entails original research and counts for 50% of the degree. One noteworthy aspect of GLU-Wits is its international composition with over 50% of the alumni coming from beyond South African borders, especially from the African continent. Alongside the postgraduate degrees, GLU-Wits hosts two short courses: ENGAGE and Social Theory for South African Unionists. An early challenge that GLU faced was that many unionists in the global South do not have the necessary formal academic qualifications to qualify for entry into a university master’s programme, yet they were the key target for any programme to transform the labour movement. As a response to this challenge, in 2010, GLU introduced the ENGAGE programme, an Empowerment and Capacity Building Network for Global Trade Unionists and Labour Activists, which was originally taught in Germany. In 2013, ENGAGE was relocated to GLU-Wits in Johannesburg. The move to GLU-Wits also entailed developing a new curriculum that was more tailored to challenges from a global South perspective. It is a certificate course, equivalent to NQF level 5 (first year of university) within the South African qualification system. ENGAGE is a two-month intensive course that combines classroom teaching with a practical research component. The course includes modules in Global Governance, Global Finance and Wage Policy, Labour and Development, Society and Development, and Trade Union Capacity Building. After six weeks in the classroom every day, for two weeks participants are trained in research methods and are given a concrete research project to conduct in groups. The outcomes of the research projects are presented on the last day of the programme. ENGAGE admits 20 to 25 participants every year from around the world, but maintains a special focus on Africa. While it focuses on the global South, it also has participants from the global North. Participants from 29 countries from Africa, South and North America, South Asia, Southeast Asia, Middle East and Europe have enriched the ENGAGE programme and have deepened the breadth of the network. By 2019, ENGAGE had successfully graduated 118 participants. After the ENGAGE course, a select number of graduates participate in the ENGAGETransfer Project in which they conduct research with their unions under the guidance of 321

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GLU-Wits staff members. The GLU-Wits staff member conducts a workshop with the host union in their country and oversees the actual research project via email. The Transfer Project culminates in a workshop presenting the research findings hosted at Wits the following year when the new cohort of ENGAGE present. Drawing on trade unionists in Sub-Saharan Africa and elsewhere, ENGAGE has been able to help develop the skills for a new type of union organiser, one who understands the global context, but is rooted in their local community. There are five ways in which this is being achieved. First, the participants are able to identify through horizontal mapping new constituencies of precarious workers, such as truck drivers in Malawi, domestic workers in Lesotho, private security guards in Swaziland, cleaners in Zambia, and hospitality, retail and street vendors in South Africa. Importantly, the participants are identifying what Jennifer Chun calls the ‘new political subjects of labour . . . women, immigrants, people of colour, low paid service workers, precarious workers. . . . Groups that have been historically excluded from the moral and material boundaries of union membership’ (Chun 2012:40). Second, it forced the union organisers to interact with vulnerable workers face-to-face and become directly aware of their work and living conditions. Third, vertical mapping is especially useful in plotting supply chains and discovering the way globalisation functions in the Southern African region. Fourth, through responding to the questionnaire those interviewed have begun to develop an identity as workers. Finally, it has helped workers frame their grievances and sense of injustice in ways that enabled them to organise collectively (Webster 2016:139). In 2017, due to the high demand for participation in the ENGAGE course, GLU-Wits initiated a short course specifically designed for South African unionists: Social Theory for South African Trade Unionists. Social Theory runs for four weeks with modules on Development and the State, Global Capitalism, Systemic Alternatives and the Sociology of Worker Organisations and Contemporary Challenges Facing Labour. Intensive classroom teaching combines theoretical ideas with concrete experiences of the participants to enrich the learning environment. Presentations, role-plays and field visits are used as ways to integrate abstract learning with lived experiences of the participants. With approximately 15 to 20 participants per year, representing unions from all federations in South Africa, Social Theory is one contribution to worker education and assisting in overcoming the fractured and divided labour movement. In three years, Social Theory has graduated 45 participants from 15 unions and four federations.3 The programme is a certificate programme, equivalent to NQF level 5 within the South African qualification system. ENGAGE and Social Theory are important outreach programmes for the university and have also ensured that university-level critical thinking is opened to workers and their organisations. While teaching is a core of the programme, the GLU-Wits has also emphasised research on labour-related issues. It has also funded nine PhD students (six of whom have finished their PhDs) working on decent work and development issues. The committee members and GLU-Wits alumni have published over 150 labour-related articles, many special issue journals, books and edited volumes directly related to labour issues. One indication of the link between the GLU-Wits programme and labour movements is that approximately 85% of our graduates remain in their unions or labour-oriented jobs, and the vast majority (over 90%) of our alumni are from the African continent, and 37% (95 in total) are women. Some alumni have gone on to complete PhDs on labour issues, contributing to knowledge production from the views of workers. The GLU-Wits alumni footprint is increasingly being felt across Africa. In order to anchor the GLU-Wits within the university, it is governed by an interdisciplinary steering committee comprising scholars from the social sciences (sociology, international relations, history) and Economics and one representative from the labour movement. One of the 322

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strengths of GLU-Wits is the coherence and consistency of the steering committee with some of the founding members still on the committee. Over the years, the GLU-Wits has received funding from a large number of organisations including some global unions. It has received regular funding from the Friedrich Ebert Stiftung (FES) (Trade Union Competence Centre (TUCC) and South African office), Deutscher Akademischer Austauschdienst (DAAD) Germany, ILO (both in Geneva and Pretoria), the International Center for Development and Decent Work (ICDD) and the South African Services Sector Education and Training Authority (Services SETA) for support of the various GLU programmes. On average, 80% of the funds received from donors goes toward scholarships and funding of the postgraduate and certificate programmes with the remaining funds utilised for operational costs.

The international GLU network The GLU network has a number of activities that further support labour movements and the working class. For example, in addition to the programmes directly targeting the labour movement, GLU-Wits also partners with the International Center for Development and Decent Work, which is a German-funded initiative that supports PhD students and research at various GLU campuses around issues of decent work and development. There is a strong focus on actor- and problem-oriented research on sustainable human-environmental relationships and decent livelihoods. Since 2009, approximately 70 doctoral fellows from 23 countries (nine from South Africa) joined the ICDD graduate programme from the various GLU partner campuses, of which over 30 have completed their PhD. In addition, five early-career researchers received ICDD postdoctoral fellowships. Once a year all PhD students from the GLU campuses on four continents meet for a week to present and discuss their projects. These workshops expose students to new theoretical approaches and methods as well as innovative interdisciplinary perspectives. PhD students also host topic-specific smaller workshops once a year at the various campuses. The hosting of the workshops rotates among the participating universities. Over the past ten years, GLU-Wits academics have run research clusters on social security, happiness index and decent work and precarity. Through the ICDD, GLU-Wits hosts PhD workshops, colloquium and research seminars throughout the year. In order to reach a much larger number of labour activists and trade unionists, GLU pioneered international education through its Massive Open Online Courses, which have over 12,000 participants (in just a couple of years). The online courses were developed through close cooperation between the GLU programmes at the five universities, the ILO, FES and the international trade union movement. What is especially noteworthy is that participation in the online courses is free of cost. Upon completion of an online exam, participants who want a certificate can pay €49 (participants from non-OECD countries are eligible for scholarships to pay the certificate fee). The GLU network takes seriously both academic and non-academic platforms, which is reflected in its publication initiatives. GLU is officially associated with the Global Labour Journal since 2014, which is an open source academic journal focusing on labour-related issues. In an attempt to bridge the gap between academic writing and more popular outlets, GLU started the Global Labour Column, which publishes online short analyses by scholars, activists and unionists on current issues and has a readership of over 18,000 and has released two edited volumes. In addition, there is a GLU Working Paper series publishing article-length manuscripts that are directly relevant to labour-related issues. Many of these publications are written by GLU alumni. Finally, the GLU network together with the Center for Global Workers’ Rights at Penn 323

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State University developed the Labour Rights Database with comprehensive information on country-level compliance with freedom of association, collective bargaining and the right to strike. The GLU network also hosts various spaces for public debate, engagement and dialogue. For example, the GLU network hosts an annual GLU conference at one of the five GLU partner universities. These conferences bring together approximately 200 labour scholars, activists, unionists and practitioners from over 50 countries. The conferences are designed as both academic and practical spaces of engagement. Immediately after the conference, the GLU network hosts an annual GLU Alumni Summer School, which strengthens the alumni network. The summer schools allow alumni to explore possibilities for future research collaboration, build a platform for discussing new and stimulating ideas to advance the global labour movement and enhance practical skills that help the alumni in their local work to advance workers’ rights worldwide. The GLU-Wits holds a regional alumni workshop bringing together alumni from GLU-Wits to present their work in their unions and labour movements. In addition to these activities, GLU-Wits hosts regular seminars, colloquia and special events with all union federations and union affiliates on particular issues. For example, in 2018 the South African government was debating adopting a minimum wage. GLU hosted a seminar with key scholars involved in the research and debates on the minimum wage.

Conclusion The GLU is a unique network that provides university-level education for labour activists through a variety of media. With nearly 260 alumni, GLU-Wits has contributed to worker education in South Africa, Africa and beyond. GLU-Wits simultaneously opens up university access to worker’s movements, workers and labour activists and supports unions and other social movements to engage in the issues of policy and development, dialogue and debate in order to strengthen their bargaining position. It has deepened relations between the university and the labour movement through education, research, seminars, building alumni networks, publications and public engagement. The deep linkages with partners beyond the university ensures that the needs and interests of workers and their movements are integrated into the GLU-Wits programme. GLU-Wits is building a regional and global network. It is an example of labour internationalism in action. Constructing a labour internationalism does not involve a choice between going global or remaining local; it requires that unions navigate between the local and the global. This combination of the local and the global has led to the emergence of what Sydney Tarrow calls ‘rooted cosmopolitans’ (Tarrow 2005:42). Rooted cosmopolitans, Tarrow says, are activists who think globally, but are linked to very real places. In his words: They move physically and cognitively outside their origins, but they continue to be linked to place, to the social networks that inhabit that space, and to the resources, experiences, and opportunities that place provides them with. (Ibid:42) GLU-Wits has created a generation of labour activists who are rooted in their struggles but understand these struggles within globalised capitalist structures and are forging international networks. They are a generation of rooted cosmopolitans who are linking the local to

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the global. It is quite extraordinary that such a trade union–oriented programme exists in the neoliberal and authoritarian times in which we live. If it is true that the ‘significance of public sociology  .  .  . is to forge alliances with organisations, institutions, communities, and movements which are also facing an offensive from some combination of state and market’ (Burawoy 2015:14), then the GLU programme at Wits is a powerful example of the ongoing tradition of public sociology in South Africa.

Notes 1 The Wits University Council terminated the contract with FOSATU on the bogus grounds that the contract breached academic freedom, as it was only for FOSATU and not for any other trade union federation. Both the academics and FOSATU were outraged, as it was hypocritical of Wits, as they were running specific courses for the business corporation Anglo American, and short-sighted, as Wits lost an opportunity to pioneer university-based trade union education in South Africa. The academics continued to teach the course off campus at St Peters in Rosettenville until 1985, when the initiative was terminated with the formation of COSATU. 2 Bonner went on to acknowledge that in stressing the failure of the ICU to organise the urban workers, he was failing to acknowledge their success as a popular rural social movement articulating the aspirations of farm tenants experiencing the dislocating effects of capitalist relations of production (Bonner 1978:114). 3 Due to Covid-19, the two short courses – Engage and Social Theory – were postponed to 2021.

References Bonner, P. 1978. “The Decline and Fall of the I.C.U- A Case of Self-Destruction?” In Essays in Southern African Labour History, edited by E. Webster. Johannesburg: Ravan Press. Buhlungu, S. and E. Webster 2009. “Workers Divided, Workers Uniting.” In Trade Unions Since 1945: Towards a Global History, Volume 1: Western Europe, Eastern Europe, African and the Middle East, edited by C. Phelan. Bern: Peter Lang. Burawoy, Michael. 2015. “Sociology-Going Public, Going Global.” Public Sociology Against Market Fundamentalism and Global Inequality:1–16, published in German. Callinicos, L. 1993. “Labour History and Worker Education in South Africa.” Labour History: A Journal of Labour and Social History 65:162–178. Chun, J. 2012. “The Power of the Powerless: New Schemes and Resources for Organizing Workers in Neoliberal Times.” Pp. 37–60 in Cross-National Comparisons of Social Movement Unionism; Diversities of Labour Movement Revitalisation in Japan, Korea and the United States, edited by Akira Suzuki. Oxford: Peter Lang. Cooper, L. 2006. “The Trade Union as a ‘Learning Organisation’? A Case Study of Informal Learning in a Collective Social-Action Organisational Context.” Journal of Education 39:27–46. Cooper, L., J. Grossman, and S. Andrew. 2003. Cosatu’s Policy on Worker Education, 1985–1992. Cape Town: School of Education, University of Cape Town. Development Institute for Training, Support and Education for Labour (Ditsela). 2009. “Trade Union Practice Qualification (TUPQ).” South African Labour Bulletin 33(1):72. Development Institute for Training, Support and Education for Labour (Ditsela). N.d. “National Education Programme.” Retreived September 30, 2018 (www.ditsela.org.za/Our-Work/National-Programme). Freire, P. 1970. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. New York: Continuum. Guy, J. 1998. “Labour History and Worker Education.” South African Labour Bulletin 22(2):78, April. Tarrow, S. 2005. The New Transnational Activism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Von Holdt, K. 2000. “From the Politics of Resistance to the Politics of Reconstruction? The Union and ‘Ungovernability’ in the Workplace.” In Trade Unions and Democratisation in South Africa, 1985–1997, edited by G. Adler and E. Webster. London: Palgrave Macmillan.

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Webster, E. 2014. “The Promise and the Possibility: South Africa’s Contested Industrial Relations Path.” Transformation: Critical Perspectives in Southern Africa 81–82:208–235. Webster, E. 2016. “Going Global – Building Local: Internationalismus und Arbeiter Innensolidarität im Zeitalter der Globalisierung.” Pp. 129–144 in Globalisierung analysieren, kritisieren und verändern, editedby Ulrich Brand,  Helen Schwenken, and  JoschaWullweber. Das Projektkritische Wissenschaft, Christoph Scherrerzum 60. Geburtstag, VSA: Verlag Hamburg. Webster, E. [Forthcoming]. “Competing Traditions: The Origins and Development of Worker Education in South Africa.”

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Conclusion

25 Looking toward the future Insights from international perspectives on public sociology E. Brooke Kelly

This Handbook on public sociology is unique in its international scope, and the collection illustrates how public sociology plays out differently globally. The international body of work reveals commonalities and contrasting approaches to problems amid the impact of various global contexts. Like their predecessors addressed in the introduction, such as DuBois and Addams, the authors of this volume are already tackling many pressing and enduring social problems. The promise of compiling this international body of work for an international audience lies in the potential for readers to find alternate approaches to public sociology and possibilities for international collaborations. Accordingly, the combination of work composed here holds the potential to expand the field of public sociology in a critical moment. Authors from across the globe outlined the many challenges they faced in engaging public sociology. Public sociologists wear many hats, collaborating with various publics, partners and stakeholders. In the previous chapters, those included working with such diverse groups and institutions as students, communities, universities, policy planners, governments and the public writ large. Many public sociology projects engage ‘research teams that involve both academic researchers from multiple disciplines and community leaders with long-term knowledge of how the issue affects their community’ (ASA Task Force 2005:11). As one of many examples in this volume, Price and her co-authors on the Healthy Dearborn project illustrate such a partnership with academics from multiple disciplines and non-academics employed by the city and health care system, as part of a partnership between a health care system, city government, schools and numerous community members. In this and other projects, managing so many relationships necessitates communication, such as communicating social science research to a non-academic audience as addressed by Smith and Glazier; time management and constraints, such as the confines of a semester in working with students on projects as addressed by Vanderminden and Waity; various forms of mentoring and instruction in working with students and community partners; and clarifying relationships between stakeholders as addressed by Smith and Glazier. As illustrated in the previous chapters and discussion, public sociology requires the development of a myriad of skills and experience. ‘Writing op-ed pieces, making research reports available to broader groups of users, and just documenting, questioning, and analyzing the social world are forms of public sociology’ (ASA Task Force 2005:6). An American Sociological Association task force survey of public sociologists found that they utilize a range of methods, 329

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such as ‘interviews, program evaluations, needs assessments, impact analysis, data collection and dissemination,’ with outcomes that include ‘formal reports, community forums, public briefings, policy drafting, websites, videos, and articles in print media’ (9). The previous chapters represent such a rich array of methods and outcomes that they often create challenges and require skills beyond those typical of academia, as addressed by Smith and Glazier and others. Negotiating between various publics and academia presents challenges for those employed in universities. Though this diversity of international public sociology work reveals variation in experiences, a common theme across multiple chapters addresses the challenge of getting credit for doing this work in university settings where the legitimacy of academic expertise can be called into question. Despite the long-standing tradition of American public sociology going back to the nineteenth century, the work of public sociologists traditionally has not been recognized, rewarded, or encouraged in many of our sociology departments. This has resulted in the underdevelopment of a valuable resource that can effectively link both the discipline’s accumulated knowledge and research approaches in addressing pressing social problems in our society. (ASA Task Force 2005:2) Academics may not get as much credit for labor-intensive public sociology projects as they may for traditional scholarship. For example, King and his co-authors ask if blogging, which shares sociological insights and research with the public in a more accessible way, will be regarded as scholarly activity. As Ducey addresses, public sociology labeled as activism may not be legitimated by professional organizations, such as the American Sociological Association. Yet, challenges extend beyond credibility in different global contexts, as Teo addresses the effects of a dominant US sociology on the work of international public sociologists. Importantly, in contrast to the U.S., the differences between policy or professional sociology on one hand, and critical or public sociology on the other, are not merely about occupational prestige and resources. The hierarchies imply not just differential professional status or reward, but personal risk and cost. Critics of the Singapore state – including academics – can jeopardize jobs, tenure, grants, and be publicly marginalized, discredited, and stigmatized when they do work akin to public sociology. (George 2017, as cited in Teo: 56) Examining this body of international public sociology further reveals the way global/local contexts influence the relationship between sociology and social movements, academia and activism and sociologists and various publics. Mills (1959) reminds us of the relationship between biography and history and the importance of social contexts. The work of several international public sociologists in this volume, such as Chen, Williams and Webster and Singharoy, demonstrates how historical contexts and movements shape the development of the discipline and its connections to the public and larger social movements. Chen explicitly addresses how the historical and societal conditions [in Taiwan] shaped the relationship between the discipline of sociology and the general public (p. 133). In addressing the role of the social sciences in the development of labor unions in South Africa, Willams and Webster emphasize a rich history of engagement between academia and communities dating back to the anti-apartheid movement. They recount a ‘history from below’ in which universities become ‘vibrant spaces of debate, engagement, and resistance’ (315). Similarly, Singharoy describes a historical context in India, 330

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in which public sociologists engage themselves with the most pressing social issues, such as the plight of peasants, and generate public awareness about them. The work of Sanchez and Gomez illustrate how a context of violence and war can also shape the focus and scope of public sociology. Such social justice contexts not only affect sociological practice, but orient public sociology toward a more macro public focus. These international pieces serve as models for how public sociologists can address and engage with broader social issues and public sociology can become more mainstream by rethinking the relationship between politics and the public sphere as Agger (2007) proposed. Such circumstances, in which social movements and sociology coalesce, differ from the development of a more compartmentalized public sociology in the United States, where public sociology is often marginalized in the discipline and public sociologists undertake smallerscale community-based projects. The history of the development of public sociology in the United States, addressed in the introduction to this Handbook, helps situate the origins of such approaches in the United States. Reviewing the practices of public sociologists across the globe can also introduce alternate possibilities for practicing public sociology and potentially open a dialogue for further insights and possible collaborations. What can public sociologists from around the world learn from each other? How can we work together to address points of commonality? In considering the possibilities for and challenges of international collaborations, we find ourselves in a time in which global conditions and movements are transcending national borders, necessitating international alliances and actions. The pandemic of COVID-19 has shown the world the tenuousness of national borders, initiating new social problems, and acting as a catalyst to exacerbate many existing problems and inequalities. Yet, as discussed in the introduction to this Handbook, public sociologists have been addressing these social problems of poverty, gender and race inequality since the discipline’s inception, and even before it was coined ‘public sociology.’ And the public sociologists in this volume demonstrate that they are well equipped to tackle many of the problems intensified by the pandemic based on the work in which they are already engaged. The COVID-19 pandemic has exacerbated poverty and food insecurity, hitting many of those with the fewest resources the hardest. The World Bank predicts that global extreme poverty, defined as living on less than $1.90 per day, will rise in 2020 for the first time in over 20 years due to the combined forces of COVID-19, conflict and climate change (The World Bank 2020). The plight of those experiencing extreme poverty will need to be exposed and addressed through public sociology work such as Singharoy’s in India. Gomez, Sanchez and Parrot and Valentine’s work addressing violence, war and trauma will be needed as well. Though many of the new poor will be in countries that already have high poverty rates, about 82% of the total will be in middle-income countries. As those in middle-income countries continue to feel the economic effects and after-effects of the pandemic, the work of Steversen and co-authors and the work of Greenburg and co-authors on housing and affordable housing will be needed in more communities. According to the World Bank, ‘[W]ithout policy actions, the COVID-19 crisis may trigger cycles of higher income inequality, lower social mobility among the vulnerable, and lower resilience to future shocks’ (The World Bank 2020). Public sociologists are equipped to work with local governments and policymakers to insulate communities from such impacts. COVID-19 has exacerbated and highlighted racial inequalities. Though global data on race, ethnicity and COVID-19 are not available, research on the United States and UK are instructive of disparities by race and ethnicity. For example, based on May 2020 data in the UK, 34% of critically ill COVID-19 patients were from ethnic/racial minority groups, while those groups 331

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comprise 14% of the population (Bhala 2020). Similar disproportionate rates of disease transmission and death among African Americans and Hispanics have been recorded in the United States. For example, in Chicago, African Americans comprise 30% of the city’s population but account for almost 70% of COVID-19 deaths, concentrated in just five neighborhoods. In New York City, Hispanics account for 34% of deaths, while comprising 29% of the population (Yancy 2020). Such disparities in disease transmission and death by race and ethnicity are linked to other inequities in health conditions and access to health care. Chronic conditions, such as diabetes, that place one in a higher risk group for COVID-19, are more common in African and South Asian minority groups in Europe and the United States (Bhala 2020). Higher rates of diabetes and obesity in the United States are related to income and food insecurity, where food policy subsidizes corn and soybeans, which are used to make highly processed and sweetened foods inexpensive, creating what is often cited as a paradox of obesity and food insecurity. Rates of obesity are highest among non-Hispanic African Americans in the United States (Hossfeld, Kelly, and Waity 2021), linking structural inequalities by class to racial disparities. Relatedly, in the United States, blacks and Hispanics are less likely to have health insurance, giving them less access to and use of health care (Yancy 2020), which could potentially offset and ameliorate chronic health conditions. Such conditions necessitate further collaborations between health care systems, universities and communities, such as those addressed by Price and her co-authors, to ameliorate health disparities compounded by the pandemic for communities of color. People of color are also more likely to work in frontline jobs, such as health care, retail, farming, factories and transportation, exposing them to the public, presenting challenges to maintaining social distance and/or increasing risks of exposure (Bhala 2020; CDC 2020). These sorts of jobs also tend to be those with less flexibility and lack paid sick days. Under such conditions, workers may not be able to afford to take time off work if they become ill (CDC 2020). In addition to greater exposure in the workplace, people of color also experience greater exposure to COVID-19 and other health problems through crowded housing and living conditions (Bhala 2020; CDC 2020). As the sorts of jobs outlined here are more vulnerable to layoffs (Kinder and Ross 2020), shared housing may increase (CDC 2020). Further, systemic discrimination in housing, health care, education and the criminal justice system can lead to chronic and toxic stress, exacerbating some of these previously discussed factors that can lead to greater risks of COVID-19 (Paradies 2006; CDC 2020). Public sociology that addresses these problems from within economically marginalized communities of color, such as Cossyleon and Spitz’s participatory action research in Chicago and Smith and Glazier’s focus on children with incarcerated parents, is needed now more than ever. In the midst of a pandemic, the Black Lives Matter movement, arguably the largest movement in US history (Buchanan, Bui, and Patel 2020), has become a truly global movement ‘with local demonstrations in at least 60 countries and across every continent except Antarctica’ (Shaw and Kidwai 2020). The death of George Floyd, a black man who died after being pinned down by a Minneapolis police officer on May 25, 2020, sparked protests about police brutality and racial injustice around the world. Protesters came out not only to support that black lives in America matter, but the death of George Floyd and other black Americans resonated with deaths of black people at the hands of police elsewhere, such as in South Africa, Brazil, Australia and in countries throughout Europe. Throughout Europe and Africa, Black Lives Matter heralded an examination of the history and lasting impact of European colonialism, initiating a broader examination of the reach of systemic racism that has stifled educational opportunities, housing and jobs (Birnbaum 2020). Just as the Black Lives Matter movement in the United States connected with the experiences of 332

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black people in other countries, the awareness about and impacts of colonialism resonates with Sanchez’s discussion of human rights violations and a colonized past. As a social movement, Black Lives Matter has illustrated the need and possibilities for collaborative action that moves beyond national borders. Rather than relying on a charismatic leader, Black Lives Matter has remained a grassroots movement with no single leader, espousing that the movement should transcend any individual and relying heavily on social media (Maqbool 2020; Harris 2019). Just as several chapters have addressed the coalescence of public sociology with social movements, in this historical moment, public sociologists can consider how public sociology can foster the efforts of this global movement. Williams and Webster demonstrate how public sociology can address movements to ameliorate racial injustice. How can this work be addressed in other global contexts? Even after a COVID-19 vaccine is distributed around the world, the social problems and inequalities exacerbated by the pandemic and exposed by the Black Lives Matter movement will remain with us. The global reach of these and other problems, such as increased inequalities in wealth and poverty, food insecurity and hunger, gender and racial injustice, as well as the climate change crisis, necessitate international action. The world is ripe for collaboration toward promoting social justice. As Feagin contends, ‘[C]ritical sociologists need to think deeply and imaginatively about sustainable social futures and to aid in building better human societies’ (39). What can sociologists and public sociology bring to the table? How can we work together and learn from each other? Public sociologists throughout this volume demonstrate that they are already thinking creatively about how to bridge academia and community, how to collaborate with various publics. Ellor promotes a vision for the future in which sociology is informed by the needs of the public as presented by the public, reminding us that the discipline should prioritize finding solutions for and serving public needs. ‘Therefore public sociology should not stop at too early a stage and must be continued till it comes to be . . . a solution centered sociology’ (51). Such a focus on prioritizing public need toward sustainable social futures calls for ‘rethink[ing] sociology’s disciplinary contributions,’ as Smith and Glazier propose. ‘Public sociologists take the traditional methods of mainstream sociology and bring them to groups and organizations outside of the academy’ (ASA Task Force 2005:9). As such, they use and share the tools of the discipline with the public, as seen in the previous chapters through examples such as public radio (Lequieu), blogs (King and co-authors) and participatory action research (Cossyleon and Spitz). Diana’s work illustrates how the inclusion of community members in a community-based needs assessment enabled more accurate interpretation of the data, which benefited the community through extended funding based on the data collected. In doing this work, public sociologists blur the boundaries of academia and the public. Fallon and Tolich blur these lines for their students by having them conduct research on behalf of community organizations through a public sociology capstone course. Enriquez and Hernandez’s work on the Undocumented Student Equity Project demonstrates how a focus on social justice helps facilitate ‘open conversations with non-academic audiences.’ Given that the legitimacy of public sociology is often called into question, we need to create our own communities and legitimacy, as Teo points out, so that we can learn from each other and build stronger coalitions. We have to find and create communities and bring others in the academy along; we have to stretch across generational divides. . . . The labor of doing public sociology is collective labor, entailing time to create knowledge and solidarity, involving bodies in and out of the academy. (63) 333

E. Brooke Kelly

Yet, that knowledge in and outside the academy must not be limited to the disciplinary boundaries of sociology alone, as Mobley points out, necessitating a more interdisciplinary and pluralistic approach. Just as the causes of the complex problems addressed are interdisciplinary in nature, so too should be the approach to address them. Thus, public sociology is ‘integrative, linking sociology to other academic disciplines, to the communities affected by the particular social problem, and to the decision makers in key positions to bring about positive changes in addressing the pressing issues’ (ASA Task Force 2005:11). The insights gained from this international body of work on public sociology is a call to step back and come together, to broaden our scope and engage in collective work that transcends disciplinary and other boundaries. As the previous chapters illustrate, public sociology holds the promise to address the pressing global challenges that we face.

References Agger, Ben. 2007. Public Sociology: From Social Facts to Literary Acts. Lanham: Rowan and Littlefield. American Sociological Association Taskforce on Institutionalizing Public Sociology. 2005. “Public Sociology and the Roots of American Sociology: Establishing our Roots of American Sociology: ReEstablishing Our Connections to the Public.” Retrieved August  10, 2020 (www.asanet.org/sites/ default/files/savvy/images/asa/docs/pdf/TF%20on%20PS%20Rpt%20(54448).pdf). Bhala, Neeraj. 2020. “Sharpening the Global Focus on Ethnicity and Race in the Time of COVID-19.” The Lancet 395(10238):1673–1677. doi:10.1016/S0140-6736(20)31102-8. Birnbaum, Michael. 2020. “Europe Said U.S. Influence Had Waned Under Trump: Then Black Lives Matter Protests Rocked the Continent.” The Washington Post. Retrieved December 10, 2020 (www. washingtonpost.com/world/europe/europe-said-us-influence-had-waned-under-trump-then-blacklives-matter-protests-rocked-the-continent/2020/06/17/23f88ff2-ab4c-11ea-a43b-be9f6494a87d_ story.html). Buchanan, Larry, Bui, Quoctrung, and Jugal K. Patel. 2020. “Black Lives Matter May Be the Largest Movement in U.S. History.” The New York Times. Retrieved October 24, 2020. (www.nytimes.com/ interactive/2020/07/03/us/george-floyd-protests-crowd-size.html) Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC). 2020. “Health Equity Considerations and Racial and Ethnic Minority Groups.” July 24. Retrieved December 10, 2020 (www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019ncov/community/health-equity/race-ethnicity.html#fn11). George, Cherian. 2017. Singapore, Incomplete: Reflections on a First World Nation’s Arrested Political Development. Singapore: Woodsville News. Harris, Frederick C. 2019. “The Next Civil Rights Movement?” In The Social Construction of Difference and Inequality: Race, Class, Gender, and Sexuality, edited by Tracy E. Ore. New York: Oxford University Press. Kinder, Molly and Martha Ross. 2020. “Reopening America: Low-wage Workers have Suffered Badly from COVID-19 So Policymakers Should Focus on Equity.” Brookings. Retrieved December 10, 2020 (www.brookings.edu/research/reopening-america-low-wage-workers-have-suffered-badly-fromcovid-19-so-policymakers-should-focus-on-equity/). Leslie Hossfeld, E. Brooke Kelly, and Julia Waity. 2021. “Finding Class in Food Justice Efforts.” in Routledge International Handbook of Working-Class Studies, edited by Michele Fazio, Christie Launius, and Tim Strangleman. London: Routledge. Maqbool, Aleem. 2020. “Black Lives Matter: From Social Media Post to Global Movement.” BBC News. Retrieved December 10, 2020 (www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-53273381). Mills, C. Wright. 1959. The Sociological Imagination. New York: Oxford University Press. Paradies, Yin. 2006. “A Systematic Review of Empirical Research on Self-Reported Racism and Health.” International Journal of Epidemiology 35(4):888–901. doi:10.1093/ije/dyl056externalicon.

334

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Shaw, Daniel Odin and Saman Ayesha Kidwai. 2020. “The Global Impact of the Black Lives Matter (BLM) Movement.” The Geopolitics. Retrieved December  10, 2020 (https://thegeopolitics.com/ the-global-impact-of-the-black-lives-matter-movement/). The World Bank. 2020. “COVID-19 to Add as Many as 150  Million Extreme Poor by 2021.” October 7. Retrieved December 10, 2020 (www.worldbank.org/en/news/press-release/2020/10/07/ covid-19-to-add-as-many-as-150-million-extreme-poor-by-2021). Yancy, Clyde W. 2020. “COVID-19 and African Americans.” JAMA: The Journal of the American Medical Association 323(19):1891–1892. Retrieved December 10, 2020. doi:10.1001/jama.2020.6548.

335

Index

Note: Page numbers in italics indicate a figure and page numbers in bold indicate a table on the corresponding page. Abatayo, Skyler 155 Abaza, Mona 16 Acabal, Valentin 158 ACCESS social services agency 126 Addams, Jane 3 – 5, 6, 24 – 25, 26, 36, 38, 227 – 228, 329 affirmative public sociology 16, 18 – 19 Agger, Ben 7, 29, 40, 189, 205, 331 Alazzawi, Hala 128 Albayalde, Oscar 160 Ambassadors for Hope (AFH) 144 – 145, 147 – 148, 150 – 151, 152 American Community Survey (ACS) 231 – 232 American Dilemma, An (Myrdal) 27 American Journal of Sociology (periodical) 25, 26 – 27, 36 American Sociological Association (ASA) 5, 26, 27, 36, 54, 60; activism, not legitimating 330; on animals and society 190, 196, 206; careers in sociology, suggesting 303 – 304; code of ethics 205; findings of sociology, applying 3 – 4; Jane Addams as a charter member 24; mass-media use, reflections on 195; online harassment stance 204. see also Burawoy, Michael; public sociology American Sociological Review (ASR) 27, 29. 36 Amnesty International 296 – 297 Animal Rights (AR) 187 – 188, 190, 191, 192, 193, 195, 198, 200 Anti-Human Trafficking Task Force 277, 284 Antioch Farm controversy 188, 195, 196, 198, 201, 203 Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) 160, 161, 165 Artificial Intelligence (AI) 42 Assembly Bill 540 (AB 540) 251 Association for Applied and Clinical Sociology (AACS) 110

336

Association of Victims of Granada Town (ASOVIDA) 288, 290 – 291 Atkinson, Fred 161 – 162 Atlanta Sociological Laboratory 5 Bachman, Megan 198 Bad River Ojibwe Tribe 268, 273 Banerjee, Mamata 180, 181 Barbaza, Remmon E. 114 Barnard, Alex 14 Barrows, David 161 – 162 Becker, Howard 207 Beer, Paul de 292, 294 Bell, Daniel 189 Bell, Wendell 39 Bellah, Robert 12, 38 Benjamin, Orly 48 Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) 180, 181, 182, 183 Big Rig, The (Viscelli) 308 Birnbaum, Norman 29 Black Lives Matter (BLM) 307, 332 – 333 Bonacich, Edna 152, 215 Bonner, Phil 318, 325n2 Booth, Charles 4 Boss, Pauline 293 Bourdieu, Pierre 48, 50 Brady, David 49 Breese, Jeffrey R. 122 Brint, Steven 122, 131 Buchberger, Michelle Phillips 106 Burawoy, Michael 40, 57, 63, 100, 123, 141, 214; as activist and advocate 49, 226; as ASA president 6, 7; civil society, on sociology as the mirror of 240, 316; on division of labor in field of sociology 61; four quadrants, perception of 56, 58, 130, 163; on interdisciplinarity 107, 108; on making visible the invisible 288, 298;

Index

organic public sociology, defining 70, 109, 131, 152, 189, 214, 216, 277; presidential address 7, 30 – 31, 112, 122, 145, 213, 250, 259 – 260; on public sociology 54 – 55, 59 – 60, 91, 131, 152, 217, 222, 265; on service learning 79, 215, 217; sociological ethos proposal 288, 289; typology of 145, 146; on undergraduates as a public 79, 223 Burciaga, Edelina 251, 260 Burgess, Earnest 26, 227 Butterfield, Alice 108 California Dream legislation 251 Callinicos, Luli 318 Canes, Michael Racal 155 Carmon, Naomi 47 Carr, Deborah 310 Cartography and Identification of Mass Graves project 288, 289, 291 – 295, 297 – 298 Casey, Alex 312 Cataldi, Silvia 70 Cebu International Convention Center (CICC) 155 Census Bureau (U.S.) 41, 123 – 125, 124, 176, 183, 231 – 232, 235 Center for Public Scholarship & Social Change (CPSSC) 144 – 145 Center for Urban Research and Learning (CURL) 69 – 70, 72 – 75, 76 – 77 Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) 123 Centre to Approach Reconciliation and Reparation (CARE) 291 – 293 Chavarro, Diego 113 Check Cashing Fairness Act 76 Chen, Daniel 310, 330 Cheney, Tim 94 Chen Shui-Bian 136 Chicago School of Sociology: Hull House settlement project 4 – 5, 24, 25, 227, 228, 229; qualitative methodology, developing 230; urbanization, focus on 226, 234 – 235, 236 Children of Incarcerated Parents Network of Lancaster County (COIPNLC) 144. see also Ambassadors for Hope China Forum (newspaper) 134 Chun, Jennifer 322 Cloward, Richard 6 Coleman, James 50 Collins, Patricia Hill 55, 56, 251 Coming Crisis of Western Sociology, The (Gouldner) 29 Commission on Elections (COMELEC) 160 Committee to Save the Antioch Lambs 187, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 199 Communist Party of India (CPI) 178, 181, 182

Community Action Partnership (CAP) 147 Community-Based Participatory Action Research (CBPAR) 86, 92, 216 Community Initiated Student Engaged Research (CISER) 213, 216 – 221, 217, 221, 223 Community Organizing and Family Issues (COFI) 69 – 70, 72 – 77 Compass Mark organization 145, 147 – 148, 149, 150 Computer Assisted Telephone Interviewing (CATI) 85, 86, 88 Comte, Auguste 23, 49 Congress of South African Trade Unions (COSATU) 319, 325n1 Contexts Magazine (periodical) 7, 12, 312 Cooper, Anna Julia 25, 305 Cooper, Linda 320 Cooper, Robert (Bob) 144, 148 Cossyleon, Jennifer E. 73, 332, 333 Cottom, Tressie McMillan 311 COVID-19 pandemic 3, 105, 110 – 113, 183, 187, 331 – 332, 333 Cox, Oliver C. 38 Crenshaw, Kimberlé 251, 305 Crisis, The (periodical) 5 Cubul, Jun 156 Dahl, Carla M. 293 Daily Beast, The (website) 192, 195 Davis, Karen 198 Davis, Katherine 3 – 4 Dearborn 500 Cities Project 123 – 131 Death of White Sociology, The (Ladner) 38 Deegan, Mary Jo 28 Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) 251 – 252, 259 deliberative democracy of Taiwan 133 – 134, 135 – 137 Department of Social Services (DSS) 86, 87 Development Institute for Training, Support and Education for Labour (Ditsela) 319 Development Support and Security Plan (DSSP) 159, 163, 165 Dewey, John 24, 226, 228 Diana, Augie 333 Disarmament, Demobilization and Reintegration (DDR) 287, 289 Doctors for Sexual Abuse Care (DSAC) 246 Dörre, Klaus 14 Draus, Paul 121, 125 Du Bois, W. E. B. 4, 5, 6, 24, 25, 26, 32, 36, 38, 189, 306 Ducey, Kimberley 330 Durkheim, Émile 23 – 24, 305 Duterte, Rodrigo 11, 154 – 155, 159, 160 – 161, 163, 165 – 166

337

Index

Eaton, Isabel 4 – 5, 25 economic depression 27, 268, 269, 272 Educational Opportunities Program (EOP) 221 Ehrenreich, Barbara 6 Eisenstadt, Shmuel 47 Elias, Sean 30 – 31, 36 Eller, Linda 113 Ellor, Aaron 333 ENGAGE intensive course 321 – 322 Enriquez, Laura E. 333 Entoma, Julian 155 Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) 269 Envisioning Real Utopias (Wright) 18 Epifanio de los Santos Avenue Revolution (EDSA) 165 – 166 Erikson, Kai 39 – 40, 267 ethnography 62, 164, 165, 215, 227, 228 – 229, 236, 250, 267 Evans-Pritchard, E. E. 17 Everyday Sociology Blog (ESB) 303 – 304, 304 – 306, 308 – 313 Fairbairn, Jordan 130 – 131 Fallon, Michael 238, 240, 241, 244, 247, 333 Fals-Borda, Orlando 37, 38 Family Services Advocate (FSA) 145, 146, 147 – 149, 150, 151 Farmville case study (1897) 5 Fat, Demetrio (Jimmy) 156 – 157 Feagin, Joe R. 7, 163, 333 Federation of South African Trade Unions (FOSATU) 317, 325n1 Federici, Silvia 13 Floyd, George 111, 332 food insecurity 84 – 85, 104 – 105, 110 – 113, 111, 125, 331 – 333 Foray, Dominique 108 Fraser, Nancy 13, 15 Freegan Movement 14 Freire, Paulo 251, 320 Friedrich Ebert Stiftung (FES) 317, 323 Gabriel, John 122 – 123, 130 Gans, Herbert 7, 12, 190, 207; as ASA president 6, 30, 189, 205; on mass media 193, 195; on public sociology 48 – 49, 50, 187, 191 – 192, 227; sociology, assessing discipline of 188, 194, 196, 206 gentrification 136, 226, 234; gentrification research 229 – 230; Lincolnville gentrification plan 235 – 236; needs assessments, conducting with target population 233; quantitative methods, applying to study of 231 – 232 Geographic Information Systems (GIS) 84, 232 Gest, Justin 42

338

Gibbons, Michael 108 Giddings, Franklin H. 26 – 27 Glazier, Mary Hendricks 329, 330, 332, 333 Gleicher, Sara 121, 125, 127, 129 Glenn, Norval 61, 188, 194 Global Labour Journal (periodical) 323 Global Labour University (GLU) 315 – 325 Gold Coast and the Slum (Zorbaugh) 226 Gomez, Camilo Tamayo 331 Gouldner, Alvin W. 29, 40 Grahe, Jon E. 239, 241 Gramsci, Antonio 222 Great Transformation, The (Polanyi) 11, 12, 20, 40 Greenberg, Miriam 331 Green Revolution of India 175, 184 Grollman, Eric Anthony 311 Guardian Ad Litem (GAL) 81 Guy, Jeff 318 Guzman Perez, Miroslava 251, 260 Hacker, Karen 86 Hagood, Margaret 5 Hall, John 49 Hallet, Timothy 12 Hamity, Matthew 192 Hammoud, Abdullah 126 Hanafi, Sari 57 Handbook on Public Sociology (Jeffries) 108 Harm Reduction Coalition 83, 85, 86, 87, 88 Harris, Angelique C. 306, 307 Hartman, Doug 223, 226, 312 Harvey, David 14 Hauhart, Robert C. 239, 241 Hauser, William 50 Hausknecht, Murray 48 – 49 Hawken, Paul 33 Hays, Sharon 55, 56, 61 Health and Human Services (HHS) 93 Healthy Dearborn Project (HD) 121 – 22, 123, 125 – 31, 329 Healy, Kieran 12 Heartland Alliance 75 Heben, Andrew 244 Henderson, 309 Hernandez, Martha Morales 333 Herring, Harriet 5 Hochschild, Arlie 12, 16 – 18 Honneth, Axel 295 Horgan, Mervyn 226 Hossfeld, Leslie 108 Housh, Brian 196, 198, 199, 201 Houten, Jason Seth 186 – 187, 189, 192, 200 “How Can Universities Foster Educational Equity for Undocumented College Students” (Enriquez et al) 258

Index

How to Be an Anticapitalist in the Twenty-First Century (Wright) 18 – 19 human ecology 227, 228, 235 Human Rights Watch 296 Hurst, Allison 312 Image of the Future, The (Polak) 43 In Defense of Animals (IDA) 186, 192, 193 India, peasant movements of 174 – 176, 177 – 181, 181 – 184 Industrial and Commercial Workers Union (ICU) 318, 325n2 Information and Communication Technologies (ICTs) 173, 176, 181 Inniss, Janis Prince 307 Institutional Review Board (IRB) 81, 83, 86, 87, 88, 126, 128, 280 International Center for Development and Decent Work (ICDD) 323 International Committee of the Red Cross 295 International Labour Organization (ILO) 316, 317, 323 International Monetary Fund (IMF) 162 Intern Nation (Perlin) 239 Introduction to the Science of Sociology (Park/Burgess) 26 Isugan, Jesus (Dondon) 157 Jackson, Janet 307 Jacoby, Russell 6 James, William 228 Jessop, Bob 163 Johnson, Guion Griffis 5 Johnston, Jessica 241 Joy, Bill 42 Kamp, Aldert 109 Katz-Fishman, Walda 6 Kaufman, Peter 303, 305, 310 – 311 Kelley, Florence 4, 5, 24 Kelsey, Karen 308 Kendall, P. L. 97 Kidd, Nancy Weinberg 201 King, Colby R. 303, 308, 311, 330, 333 King, Coretta Scott 200 King, Martin Luther, Jr. 200 Klein, Naomi 160 Korazim-Korosy 108 Koster, Ferry 292, 294 Krueger, Richard 98 Kuh, George 310 Ladner, Joyce 38 Laird, Thomas F. Nelson 310 Lariosa, Franklin 157 – 158

Las Abrazadas (The Embraced) 290 – 291 Leaders Advancing and Helping Communities (LAHC) 127 Lee, Alfred McClung 38, 39, 49 Lequieu, Amanda McMillan 333 Lessenich, Stephan 14 Levien, Mike 14 Levine, Adam 307 Lewin, Kurt 48, 52 LGBTQ community 31, 38, 307 Liberation Sociology (Feagin/Vera) 30, 35 Lightfoot, Lori 76 Lin, K. M. 136, 137 – 138 Lin, Y. S. 138 Lissak, Moshe 47 Long Island Applied Research Center (LI-ARC) 277, 278, 279, 283 Lorde, Audre 259, 306 Louvel, Séverine 108 Lovelock, James E. 34 Lowe, Derek 113 Luxemburg, Rosa 14 Lynd, Robert 38, 49, 189 MacIver, Robert M. 40 – 41 Magnani, Roberta 311 Maher, Tim 230, 231 Manley, Tom 189, 191, 193, 196 – 198, 200, 203, 204 Maoist movement of West Bengal 178, 182 Marcos, Ferdinand 163, 165 Martineau, Harriet 23, 25, 36 Marx, Karl 14, 15, 19, 22, 23, 31, 43, 52, 305 Massey, Douglas 58 McLaughlin, Neil 107 – 108 Mead, George H. 227, 228 Meek, Jack W. 109 Memorandum of Understanding (MOU) 83, 280 Merton, Robert 51, 97, 100 Millán, Daniel 251, 255, 260 Milligan, Tracy A. 94 Mills, C. Wright 49, 189, 307, 330; re-imagining social problems, on the task of 163, 167; sociological imagination, on the practice of 265, 308; Sociological Imagination, The 114, 305 Mirra, Nicole 71 Mobley, Catherine 334 Modi, Narendra 11, 180 Montreal Gazette (newspaper) 190 Moore, Barrington 37, 114 Moret Decree of 1863 161 Morris, Aldon 5 Mouffe, Chantal 15, 17

339

Index

Mueller, Jennifer 30 – 31, 36 Multi-Modal Transportation Plan (MMTP) 131 Musk, Elon 19 Myrdal, Gunnar 27, 38 Napolitano, Janet 252 National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) 5 National Centre for Historical Memory of Colombia (NCHM) 287 National Institute of Health (NIH) 280 National Taiwan University (NTU) 135 – 136, 137 National Voting Registration Act (1993) 7 Naxalite movement of West Bengal 178, 179, 182 New Deal sociology 5 – 6 Newell, William H. 109 New Left social movement 6 – 7 Nibert, David 187 – 193, 196 – 200, 201 – 207 Nikitina, Svetlana 105 Nixon, Richard 160 No Place Like Home project 216, 218, 220, 221 – 222 Norwood, David 126 Nyden, Philip W. 108 Obama, Barack 11 – 12, 16 Oberg, John 188 Ochoa, Gilda 250 Odum, Howard 5 – 6, 49 Office of National Drug Control Policy (ONDCP) 93 Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) 296 Ogburn, William F. 27, 49 Opioid Misuse project 85 – 89 Oplan Tokhang war on drugs campaign 155, 156 – 157, 157 – 159 O’Reilly, John B., Jr. 130, 131 Organic Public Sociology (OPS) 12, 16, 189, 215, 284; CISER as extended model of 213, 216 – 221, 217, 221, 223; counter-public, working in connection with 109, 214, 216; empathic Organic Public Sociology 17, 20; final products of OPS 281; flexibility, requiring 152 – 153; Organic Public Sociology research 77, 278, 283; traditional public sociology vs. 70, 131, 145, 152, 277 Otago University research protocol 238 – 239, 240 – 248 Palagtiw, Sonny Durango 158 – 159 Parents Organized to Win, Educate and Renew Policy Action Council (POWER-PAC) 69, 72, 73, 74, 75 – 76 Park, Robert E. 26, 27, 228, 229, 234 Parrot, Heather 277, 278, 279, 331 340

Participatory Action Research (PAR) 69 – 70, 71 – 72, 75, 76 – 77 Patton, Michael Quinn 100 Paul, Richard 113 Pearl, Barbara 186 – 187, 189, 200 Peirce, C. S. 228 Pennell, James R. 230, 231 People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) 202 Peras, Soliver 159, 160 Perlin, Ross 239 Philadelphia Negro case study (1899) 5, 25 Philippine National Police (PNP) 160 Piven, Frances Fox 6, 7, 58, 59 Polak, Fred 43 Polanyi, Karl 14; exploitation to commodification, shifting from 15; on fictitious commodities 13, 16; Great Transformation, The 11, 12, 20, 40 political sociology 137 – 138 Popper, Karl R. 105, 113 Price, Carmel E. 121 – 122, 125, 329, 332 Professor Is In, The (Kelsey) 308 Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) 48 Project South 6 public sociology 86, 228; defining 145 – 146; authoritarian regimes, developing field under 134 – 135; critical public sociology 26 – 29, 32 – 33; ESB as public sociology 304 – 306; European tradition 22 – 24; everyday sociology 265 – 266, 266 – 268; federal funding opportunities and expectations 93 – 94; future of 35, 63, 152 – 153; Global Labour University and 316 – 317; in the Philippines 163 – 166, 166, 167; public engagement as good sociological practice 310 – 312; social justice focus 36, 259–260; transitional justice, relationship with 288 – 289, 295 – 297; U.S. dominance of field 3 – 5, 24 – 25, 56 – 58 public sociology, researching and teaching: division of labor in the field 30, 54 – 56, 58, 59 – 60, 61, 63; interdisciplinarity within the field 105 – 109, 110 – 113, 114; PAR research 69 – 70, 71 – 72, 75, 76 – 77; qualitative and quantitative investigations 230 – 233; student participation 80 – 83, 84 – 85, 86 – 89, 150 – 152; teaching and mentoring 39, 146 – 147, 278 – 281 public sociology approaches: affirmative public sociology 18 – 19; community-engaged projects 92 – 100, 147 – 149; counter system approach 36 – 38; empathic public sociology 16 – 18; Southern Regionalists approach 5 – 6; traditional public sociology 11 – 12, 105, 146. see also Organic Public Sociology Public Sociology Capstones (Tolich) 248 Public Sociology: From Social Facts to Literary Acts (Agger) 7, 189

Index

Puddephat, Antony J. 107 – 108 Putnam, Robert 100 Ramayla-Canes, Fraldine Kate 155 Rape Crisis research 243, 245 – 246, 248 Ray, Victor 311 Raynor, Katrina 71 Repko, Allen F. 106, 110, 112, 113 Revolutionary Armed Forces of Columbia (FARC) 287, 296 Riesman, David 6, 12, 189 Robinson, Mary 240 Rojas, Fabio 311 Romero, Mary 259 Rosa, Harmut 14 Rossi, Peter 50 Sampson, Natalie R. 122 Sanchez, Phoebe Zoe Maria 331, 333 San Jose State University (SJSU) 238 – 248 Sassen, Saskia 14 Sauder, Michael 12 Scaling Walls a Note as a Time (SWAN) 144 Scarisbrick-Hauser 50 Schalet, Amy 308 – 309 Schipper, Janine 311 Schoepflin, Todd 311 Scott, Jerome 6 Scriven, Michael 100 Seguin, Eve 201, 203 Sergent, Justine 190 Service Employees Registration and Voter Education (SERVE) 6 Sharp, Gwen 305 Shavit, Yossi 48 Shoval, Judith 48 Simmel, Georg 229 Sinas, Debold 160 Singharoy, D. K. 330 – 331 Singur movement of India 180, 181 Sjoberg, Gideon 22 Small, Albion 26, 229 Smith, Dorothy 38, 329, 330, 332, 333 Smith-Lovin, Lynn 55, 56 Snow, John 232 Social Science Applied Research Center (SSARC) 85, 86, 88 Society in America (Martineau) 23 Sociological Imagination, The (Mills) 114, 305 Sociological Imagination, The (Wright) 114, 305 Sociological Theory (periodical) 36 Soria, Krista 312 Speight, Morgan 246 Spitz, Gina 332, 333 SPSS software 82, 86, 87, 149, 231 Stacey, Judith 57 Standing, Guy 15

Stapleton, Orla 12 Steele, Stephen 50 Stein, Maurice R. 235 Sternheimer, Karen 303, 304, 305, 308, 310 Steverson, Leonard A. 331 Stewart, Kayla 246 Stokols, Daniel 113 Strangers in Their Own Land (Hochschild) 18 Streeck, Wolfgang 15, 16 Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) 93 – 94 Sullivan, Tami P. 279 Sunflower student movement of Taiwan 136 Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) 75 symbolic interactionism 229 Synchronized Enhanced Managing of Police Operations (SEMPO) 156, 157, 158, 159, 160 Szostak, Rick 106, 110, 112, 113 Taiwan-China Free Trade Act 136 Tarrow, Sydney 324 Tea Party movement 16, 17 Tebhaga movement of India 177 Temporary Assistance to Needy Families (TANF) 76 Tent City Urbanism (Heben) 244 Teo, Youyenn 330 third-wave marketization 13, 14, 15, 16, 18, 20 This Is What Inequality Looks Like (Teo) 60 Tibbott, Seth 196 Tocqueville, Alexis de 23 Todd, Albert 161 Tolich, Martin 238 – 239, 241, 246, 247 – 248, 333 Touraine, Alain 48 Toward a Critical Sociology (Birnbaum) 29 Travers, Ann 310 Trinamool Congress (TMC) 179, 180, 181 Trump, Donald 11 – 12, 16 – 17, 20, 42, 192, 257 Truth, Sojourner 305 Tulchin, Allan 199 Turner, Jonathan H. 49, 70 UC Irvine (UCI) 253, 257, 258 Umpad, Jean 155 – 156 Undocumented Student Equity Project (USEP) 251–260, 333 United Left Front (ULF) 178, 179, 180, 181 United Nations’ Millennium Development Goals (MDG) 161 United Nations’ Universal Declaration of Human Rights 22, 37 United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) 192, 195 341

Index

Universal Basic Income (UBI) 19 University of Michigan-Dearborn (UMD) 121 – 122, 123, 125, 126, 129, 130 University of the Philippines-Department of National Defense Accord (UP-DND) 164 Valencia, Anna 75 Valentine, Colby 277, 279, 331 Vance, Rupert 5 Vanderminden, Jennifer 85 – 89, 329 Vazquez Vera, Dairy 251, 260 Vera, Hernán 29, 35 Victims, Reparation and Transitional Justice in Post-Conflict Columbia initiative 288 Viscelli, Steve 308 Wade, Lisa 305 Waity, Julia 84 – 85, 329 Ward, Lester 3 Warnock, Deborah 312 Weber, Marianne 36 Weber, Max 25, 59, 305 Webster, Edward 330, 333 Wellman, Rose 122 Wells-Barnett, Ida B. 24, 25 Wertsch, James V. 267 Westhues, Ken 190

342

White, Frank R. 161 – 162 Whyte, William Foote 71 “Why the Future Doesn’t Need Us?” (Joy) 42 Wild Lily student social movement 134, 135 Will, Jeffrey A. 94 Williams, Michelle 330, 333 Wirth, Louis 234 – 235 Wittenberg Torch, The (newspaper) 187, 195, 206 – 207 Women, Infants, and Children (WIC) 75 Woods, Leah 233 World Bank (WB) 162, 331 World Health Organization 111 Wrenn, Corey 191, 204 Wright, Erik 16, 17 – 18 Wu, Jieh-Min 140 Wynn, Jonathan 307, 308 Yang, Andrew 19 Yellow Springs News, The (newspaper) 187, 198, 201 Zdravomyslova, Elena 11 Znaniecki, Florian 49 Zorbaugh, Harvey 226 Zuboff, Shoshanna 13 Zuckerberg, Mark 19