Cultural capital is a sociological concept for which I could certainly provide you a hoity-toity academic definition, but I won’t. Why? Because, mes amis, cultural capital can be best summed up by its synonym: cred. You know, like street cred. Think of different social groups- piercing/tattoo enthusiasts, Goths (interesting to note that my word processor auto-capitalized that), punks. Since they’re on the margins of society it’s pretty easy to picture what constitutes cred: whether it’s a sleeve or tri-hawk, these cultural markers are readily visible and help solidify one’s membership to one’s group by demonstrating their commitment to the lifestyle, amongst other things. But just because they’re ‘deviant’ doesn’t mean that the rest of ‘us’ don’t have cultural capital, too. It may just be a little more taken for granted, which doesn’t preclude the fact that we all, in one way or another, do things, act certain ways, dress in certain styles, to attain more cultural capital.
By all means given my political associations, personal values, and worldview, I should be an au naturel hippy that eschews traditional gender conformity. But for those of you who know me, you know that’s pretty far from the truth. I am, in fact, a make-up wearing, uber feminine, ‘business-casual’ dressing grad student. As a feminist, I’ve always struggled with the extent to which I conform to (and derive satisfaction and a sense of self from) my ability to conform to gender norms, to be feminine. Now that I’ve finally come to a place where I can accept that my wearing make-up doesn’t negate my commitment to the struggle towards achieving gender equity, I now have a new identity crisis with which to contend: am I ‘chemical-free’ enough?
I did an interview today and it was fabulous. It was inspiring and invigorating all at once to speak with this woman. I’m pretty well-versed in the literature (both social and scientific) on the effects of various chemicals on human and environmental health, so you can imagine my astonishment (and sheer delight!) when, part way through the interview, I realized how much I was learning from this woman (to be fair, for the reflexive interviewer, all interviewers are opportunities to learn, but that’s a whole other discussion).
We continued chatting after the interview, discussing how the environmental health movement was becoming more mainstream, when she alluded to the fact that I don’t appear to be someone who is ‘chemical-free’. And it’s true. I don’t. Based purely on aesthetics, I wouldn’t fit in with the group of people who most closely ascribe to the chemical free lifestyle. And that is a source of great anxiety for me. I don’t have cultural capital amongst hippies, nor do I have a comfortable space carved out in academe (sometimes I don’t even know if what I’m studying constitutes sociology!!). I find myself in a perpetual state of flux where I’m trying to conduct a study that has real-world relevance that happens not to be within the confines of traditional academic discourse, and yet I don’t ‘appear’ to lead a lifestyle congruent with that which I’m studying. While it’s certainly occupied my mind a great deal as of late, I’m trying not to let it interfere with my work. I think having it pointed out that I don’t appear to be ‘chemical-free’ speaks to our tendency to judge. And while I won’t go on a tirade about preconceived notions, I will take this as a lesson to remain open minded and not judge a book by its cover.
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
-Walt Whitman, ‘Song of Myself.’
ps–nice post 🙂
Pure, Transparent & Honest. You’ve addressed a topic which is often avoided when one is speaking of themselves! We love to appear uninhibited, as if our seamless adherence to a sub-culture is a natural fulfillment of our DNA helix patterns. When reading between the lines, lines often become blurred – When you are simply being yourself, sub-culture lily pads get split.
A book which spends its hours roughing and fraying up its cover in order to convince passersby that it’s appearance is congruent with its rustic contents, may just skimp on delivering the goods. It’s gone to the extreme to make sure things are just right in one department, it probably slacks in another. It’s like paying $300 for a rusted vintage bike that makes you look “poor”. Or wearing synthetic dreadlocks.
I respect the fact that you’re sincerity blurs the predictable lines. Besides, ancient Egyptians used kohl on their eyes long before marketed eco-products became the norm.
Heck, even eco-products do their packaging makeup.
Thumbs up, Mysteriously Decorated Substance Girl!
Astounding & so very eloquently worded, as always!!