SOCIOLOGY: A SCIENCE FOR TROUBLED TIMES AND UNDERSTANDING INTERACTIVE INDIVIDUALS
By the time you read this book, you may have already taken enough classes to know that sociology is a broad-based study of the ways humans behave in groups as well as the ways in which our behavior is influenced by the groups to which we belong. Conversely, sociology also studies the impact that people have on their groups through, for example, collective behavior and social movements. Youâve likely learned that sociology is not synonymous with psychology, social work, social reform, or socialism although there are many sociologists in each of these arenas. No doubt youâve also discovered there is a connection between technology and personal interaction, income security and degree of bigotry, length of incarceration and likelihood of recidivism. Perhaps youâve started to observe the behavior of people in crowds, on elevators, and at parties. Even more, you might have found some explanations for your own behavior based on your family, friends, social class, or the other subcultures to which you belong. Best of all, you probably know that sociology is a particularly useful science for life in troubled times as well as interactions between individuals.
Pretty cool stuff, you think. So cool, in fact, that you are considering a major in sociology. The big questions, however, loom large: how can I earn a living with a sociology major and what sorts of work do sociologists do? In fact, if you donât ask yourself these questions, chances are your family and friends will.
I am particularly fond of the response a colleague of mine gives to these worried queries. âWhat can a person do with a sociology major?â he usually repeats for emphasis. Then, with a shrug, the bombshell follows: âAnything. Anything they want.â While it is true that most job listings do not specifically ask for a sociologist in the same manner as they might request a bookkeeper, sales manager, or nurseâs aid, sociologists are nonetheless found in any number of positions that range from advertising to zoology.
Youâre Hired! Putting Your Sociology Major to Work will expose you to some of the many and varied opportunities available to people who major in sociology from the perspectives of those who actually work in these professions. Each vignette follows the contributor through their career starting with the forces that influenced their choice of major to their present position and future plans. Some, like Carolina Cervantes, were motivated by the dynamics of their family background. Others, like Gary Battane, were driven by the social events taking place during their college years. Adam Ortberg and Lakeshia Freedman stumbled onto a sociology major quite by happenstance while those like Rebecca Morrison and Diane Binson purposefully selected their major.
Each of the contributors discusses the rewards and realities of their work as well as the challenges and frustrations. Many walk you through their typical workday or work week. They share the sociological concepts and theories, learned in the classroom, that assist them in their work. Several of those interviewed reveal the tactics they used to obtain their positions and all offer sound advice to the fledgling sociologist.
The contributors run the generational gamut. Some, like Laura Barulich, are on the starting block of their careers while others such as Lincoln Grahlfs look back from retirement on their fulfilling and meaningful professional lives. All, as the expression goes, have a story to tell. While the experiences and stories are distinctly diverse in both breadth and depth, everyone in this book shares a commonality not always found in the world of work. As theorist Peter Berger so eloquently penned more than years ago, â⌠for them, sociology is a passion.â
READING THIS BOOK FOR BEST RESULTS
This book is meant to be read word-for-word, cover-to-cover, and then placed on your shelf alongside your other reference books. While it would be easy to skip to the career areas that currently attract you or to simply scan this text in preparation for a class discussion, you would do yourself a grave injustice. Most respondents share not just one but many careers that led them to their present position. Any one of the professions they discuss might pique your interest and beckon you down your own personal career path.
As you read further, you will see that this book has been written for you, the student, and for those concerned about you. It is not written for the profession; for other sociologists or academics though they may read it. Therefore, it does not contain information you have to memorize for an exam but rather, insights which will guide you to career decisions that are distinctly your own. At the end of the vignettes, current contact information is provided for each of the people about whom you read. I encourage you to take advantage of this opportunity to communicate directly with the individuals whose vignettes you find most interesting. Ask them the questions that do not appear in their statements but intrigue you nonetheless. While I purposely deleted any references to salaries, for example, you can feel free to query the contributors about this in your interactions with them. All are willing, indeed eager, to share more of their stories with any of you who inquire.
Though Part I is divided into 12 sections, each devoted to a specific area in which sociologists work, there are dozens, perhaps hundreds more spheres where sociologists are found. To some extent, âSnippets from the Fieldâ as well as âSociologists in the Public Eyeâ in Part II bring these to light. âEmployers Respond: Why Hire Sociology Majorsâ materialized serendipitously from administrators and managers who regularly ask me to recommend majors in my department for positions in their organizations. These individuals offer observations about the unique skills and perspectives that sociologists possess.
My hope is that you, the reader, will use Youâre Hired! to launch your own investigation into the myriad opportunities that await a sociology major; that you will imagine yourself shadowing the individuals who share their lives with you; absorb as much as possible from each vignette; then refer to Part III often as you begin and foster your career. Above all, I encourage you to learn, experiment, and enjoy the paths that you travel as you create your own stories and successes.
CHERYL JOSEPH
Growing up in a working class neighborhood of Detroit as the daughter of a factory worker and labor union organizer, I was probably destined to be a sociologist. Nonetheless, I started my college career as an English major having already foregone my dreams of being a journalist or a translator for the United Nations. This disillusionment followed a high-school education that was mediocre at best. Creative writing came easily to me; I enjoyed reading the classics; and I fantasized that I would one day successfully teach Victorian poetry to high-school students in inner-city Detroit. Secretly, I assumed I would simply meet some nice young man whom I would marry before graduation approached. (In those times, many young women went to college in the sole pursuit of a Mrs. degree!) With my grades below average and difficult classes looming, however, I left college after my freshman year. Following a brief stint working the midnight shift on the assembly line at a Ford Motor company facility and as a keypunch operator for a floral delivery firm, I realized there had to be life beyond tedium. For me, that life resided in the classrooms at Wayne State University (WSU). From that point on, I took my education seriously. Having no idea what âsociologyâ was though it sounded interesting from the catalogue description, I signed up for the introductory class. There, we talked about social class and socialization, diverse cultures and deviancy, race relations and revolution, power, and privilege â all topics that were in some way relevant to my own life. I was enthralled.
At the same time, the social issues of the sixties surrounded me and begged for explanation. On any given day, Iâd leave my neighborhood of factory-workers and homemakers to drive along the Detroit River through one of the wealthiest areas in the nation. Iâd see yachts docked behind mansions and mansions that resembled museums. Exiting this elegance, Iâd find myself entering a world riddled with blocks upon blocks of abandoned buildings and people whose despair oozed from their pores. Coupled with these disparities, I noted that the complexions of the people changed dramatically on my drive from light-skinned individuals in the wealthy neighborhoods to mostly dark-skinned people in the poor communities. Just as quickly as Iâd entered the moonscape of poverty, Iâd find myself in an oasis of academia with its modern streamlined buildings blended harmoniously with stately old architecture on pristinely manicured grounds. I wondered why the conditions I was reading about in the classics for my English courses half a world away and a century before still existed in my own contemporary life.
Concurrently, social protests coincided with the war in Vietnam and permeated my personal existence. The boys with whom Iâd attended high school were being drafted in record numbers while many of those with whom I shared my college classes were getting military deferments. Almost weekly, Iâd hear of a high-school friend who had been wounded or killed in Vietnam while my college classmates, often sons of doctors, lawyers, or pastors, were escaping the war unscathed. It became clear to me that the occupation of oneâs father could buy privilege.
As the momentum of the anti-war protests swelled, I joined the marches for peace. Right before my eyes, I saw the significance of group solidarity in social movements. I realized that while the activists in a social movement might only comprise a small number, they often reflect the opinions of many more. For me, this was a turning point; it kindled the fires of a fledgling social activist.
Even though I was beginning to glean sociological insights that helped to explain my social environment, it wasnât until I took a class in social stratification that my world was changed radically. Suddenly, the writings of C. Wright Mills and especially, Karl Marxâs The Communist Manifesto put global events, history, and my own personal life into perspective. By the end of that semester, Iâd switched my English major to sociology. Parenthetically, it was also in that class that I met the ânice, young manâ whom I did eventually marry. Through his patient mentoring, I experienced his fascination with sociology and his love for learning in general that remains a cornerstone in my life today.
At the same time I returned to college, I took a job with a major airline, making reservations for a public relatively new to air travel. I enjoyed using the sociological perspective to comprehend the worlds of passengers whose fears I calmed and whose excitement I stoked. Classes such as the sociology of power helped me navigate the corporate corridors by understanding the parts that social role, groupthink, and bureaucracy played in every aspect of the operation from high-level decision making to individual interactions. In addition, this job afforded me nearly unlimited travel and opportunities to explore other cultures often very different from my own. Sociology made me a traveler rather than a tourist and helped me truly understand the nature of culture and reasons for differences. Moreover, I used my sociological imagination to connect the seemingly disparate events in one country to those of another.
In my senior year, I enrolled in a year-long internship where I worked with a nonprofit organization in a poverty-stricken area of Detroit. There, I helped a group of mothers determine the causes of their communityâs exorbitant infant mortality rate. Through these women, I learned tactics for organizing communities, both as an insider and an outsider. They showed me the necessity of garnering support from sympathetic politicians and media as well as that of building coalitions. I teach these same techniques in my classes to this very day.
Simultaneously, I took a class in social research that required me to design and conduct my own study. Since I was living in an inner-city neighborhood, I focused on the prostitutes and pimps who regularly conducted business there. Using the case study technique, I interviewed several dozen streetwalkers to learn about their personal histories and their everyday lives. I learned how to gain the trust of marginalized individuals and explore the subjective meanings these women gave to their activities.
This study soon resulted in another, one that allowed me to examine the inner world of convicted rapists. I wanted to know why men rape. As such, I conducted focus groups at a state prison where I posed questions to small clusters of men and then listened as they discussed their responses among themselves. The results of this study became part of the political platform used by a candidate who ran successfully for a judgeship in Detroit.
These endeavors allowed me to hone my methodological skills and build my resume along with my reputation. This led to a study investigating the extent, causes of, and solutions to spousal abuse. The findings ultimately aided in the establishment of shelters and some of the legal protections that battered women in Michigan can depend on today.
After completing my undergraduate degree, I continued to work for the airlines. Because there was little opportunity for advancement through the traditional channels, I created a niche for myself that concentrated on motivational training for the existing sales force. In that capacity, I addressed the high burn-out rate that plagued the staff, designing workshops focused on the ability to be creative even within the confines of a constraining job. My social psychology and sociology of occupations classes helped immensely.
During that time, Detroit was experiencing yet another economic recession and still shaking off the ravages of the 1967 riots. Crime was pervasive and fear was rampant. The influx of different cultures made people reluctant to acknowledge let alone associate with their neighbors. Recognizing that food is a commonality as well as a necessity, I joined a group of friends to establish a food cooperative in a destitute neighborhood comprising blacks, Arabs (both Christians and Muslims), and poor whites who had migrated to Detroit from the Appalachian Mountains. We opened our doors to just 30 households but eventually the attraction of inexpensive, nutritious food attracted some of the more intrepid residents of the community.
Affiliation required a commitment from a household member to work four hours a month at the co-op for which they received three large bags of groceries each week. Word of these benefits spread quickly and soon neighbors were working side-by-side, sharing common interests and concerns. In about three years time, the membership had expanded 10-fold. Best of all, we experienced the germination of a community where none had existed before.
Once our co-op became an accepted part of the community, we used it as a base for education and empowerment. I already knew how poverty can steal pride, self-esteem, and confidence leaving hopelessness and ruin in its wake. To counter this impact, the co-op organized numerous practical classes that were taught by people living in the neighborhood. Women shared their cooking, canning, and sewing skills, for example, while men demonstrated minor car repairs. Sharing knowledge with their neighbors engendered, for many, a newfound sense of dignity and self-worth.
During that same period, large numbers of women from all social classes were joining the workforce. With that social shift came new problems that begged to be addressed. Educated, professional, and largely middle class women found answers and sustenance in formations like the National Organization for Women (NOW). For women who worked in factories, phone banks, secretarial pools, restaurants, and the like, there were no such support systems. Joining my friends once again, we created a city-wide, cross-cultural counterpart to NOW specifically for working class and poor women. At monthly meetings, speakers addressed topics related to our membersâ concerns: single parenting, womenâs health, changing marital relations, domestic violence, and legal issues like eviction, sexual harassment, and the formation of labor unions.
Further, we established a telephone hotline whereby callers were referred to an array of resources that provided free and low-cost services to our members. These resources included doctors, lawyers, child care workers, therapists, pregnancy counselors, and social workers. I found it exhilarating to build an organization like this from its inception. I enjoyed creating the monthly events and then organizing the details that made them successful. I was far less excited, however, about the committee meetings at eleven oâclock at night and at five in the morning. I also became frustrated by the personal politics that increasingly hampered productive outcomes.
By then, too, the social climate had shifted. The War in Vietnam had ended, the Civil Rights Movement was institutionalized, and the Womenâs Liberation Movement was on solid footing. If I had learned anything at all, it was that I had more to learn. Graduate school beckoned and I answered the call.
For the next 10 years, I continued my full-time employment with the airline while I immersed myself in school. From time to time, I also dabbled in ot...
