CHAPTER TWO

SOCIAL & CULTURAL CAPITAL

Social capital is a necessary component of community development. Putnam calls social capital “a vital ingredient in economic development,” adding that “in any comprehensive strategy for improving the plight of America’s communities, rebuilding social capital is as important as investing in human and physical capital” (1993:6,8). Coleman adds that a group “whose members manifest trustworthiness and place extensive trust in one another will be able to accomplish much more than a comparable group lacking that trustworthiness” (Sumners 2005:6).

These scholars’ observations have proven true in the rural South. In Tupelo, Mississippi, community developers found that social capital was positively related to a strong economy and good government (Grisham & Gurwitt 1999). Likewise, in Uniontown, Alabama, increasing social capital was the first step toward economic development, leading Sumners and Lee to conclude that in rural Alabama “one of the best hopes for economic progress lies in taking steps to strengthen the civic life in rural communities (2003:12).

Studies involving social capital abound in sociology, but there are comparatively few studies examining the role cultural capital plays in community development efforts. In addition to strengthening social capital, I believe communities must also cultivate a common identity in order for development efforts to succeed. This does not mean that cultural differences are minimized or abandoned. Rather, citizens should celebrate diversity while striving to discover a common cultural identity which can unite them in creating a cohesive movement. In the case of the Dudley Street Neighborhood Initiative in Boston, community development efforts united four ethnic groups under the common identity of hailing from Dudley Street. In the case of York, blacks and whites could find a common identity rooted in the particular customs and traditions of Alabama’s Black Belt.

Significantly, social and cultural capital can play a divisive role in communities. Because they are both rooted in linking people together, they run the risk of shutting others out. York possesses high degrees of bonding social and cultural capital, which links people who are alike, within the black and white communities. However, there is little bridging social and cultural capital to link the black and white communities to each other. This has an enormous impact on community development efforts which seek to unite blacks and whites under a common goal. To evaluate the complex role social and cultural capital play in York, both concepts will be explored in detail with special attention given to the segregating effects of social and cultural capital and the development of alternate forms of social and cultural capital in minority communities.

The term “social capital” traces its origins to the work of Lyda Hanifan, a school superintendent in West Virginia’s Appalachian region. Hanifan coined the term to refer to social features necessary for community success, described as “goodwill, fellowship, sympathy, and social intercourse among individuals and families who make up a social unit” (1920:78). Hanifan’s concept of social capital was extended by the work of French theorist Pierre Bourdieu, who conceived of a number of different types of capital, including cultural capital. Bourdieu’s work explores the universal structures of human life and the practices that sustain, perpetuate, and modify those structures. In short, Bourdieu attempts to explain the social character of human reality, and relies on the concept of capital to do so (Dreyfus & Rabinow 1999).

In sociology, the concept of capital traces to Marx, who defined capital as part of the surplus value captured by capitalists who control the means of production. Marx explained that in the circulation of commodities and monies between the production and consumption processes, workers are paid for their labor, but the commodity processed can be sold by capitalists in the consumption market for a higher price. Capital is therefore surplus value; it is both a product of the process and an investment process. Importantly, it is the dominant class which makes the investment and captures the surplus value, thus Marx’s theory is based on the exploitative nature of social relations between the dominant and subordinate classes (Lin 2001).

Like Marx, Bourdieu defines capital as “the private possession of the means of production” by the dominant class (Bourdieu 1998:16). Bourdieu builds upon Marx’s concept of capital to include different species of capital previously ignored in classical theory (Bourdieu 1993). He believes immaterial forms of capital exist alongside material or economic forms (Calhoun 1993) and views the social field as built around the competition for symbolic advantage, not material advantage, as Marx had supposed (Dreyfus 1999). Bourdieu therefore deems the task of science as discovering the structure of the distribution of different species of capital, which he defines as “the energy of social physics” (Bourdieu 1992:118).

Immaterial forms of capital introduced by Bourdieu include social, cultural, symbolic, political, and linguistic capital. Social capital refers to the sum of the resources that accrue to an individual or group by virtue of possessing a network of relationships of mutual acquaintance and recognition (Bourdieu 1992). Cultural capital denotes various kinds of knowledge, including skills or education, which mark individuals as legitimate members of a certain group (Ritzer & Goodman 2004). Symbolic capital is defined as any property or form of capital perceived by people endowed with categories of perception which cause them to know it, recognize it, and give it value (for example, the concept of “honor”). Political capital signifies the private appropriation of goods and public services whose unequal distribution causes differences in patterns of consumption and lifestyles (Bourdieu 1998). Lastly, linguistic capital denotes the dominant linguistic and dress codes which act as signals of intelligence and respectability (Carter 2003) and are used in discourse to produce a sense of the speaker’s distinction (Jenkins 1992).

Social Capital

According to Bourdieu, social capital is the sum of the resources that accrue to an individual through possessing a network of relationships of mutual acquaintance and recognition (Bourdieu 1992). Social capital exists in social relations, obligations, or connections between people (Bourdieu 1993) as an asset to individuals who can access resources from the network or group of which they are members (Lin 2001). Flora et al. define social capital as the networks, norms of reciprocity, and mutual trust that exist among and within groups and communities (Flora et al. 2004), and Putnam defines it as social networks and norms of reciprocity, and the trustworthiness that arise from them (Putnam 1995). Lin defines social capital as a collective asset shared by members of a defined group, with clear boundaries, obligations of exchange, and mutual recognition (Lin 2001).

Individuals access social capital by participating in social networks. As Coleman explains, social capital is a range of resources (real or potential) available to individuals due to their participation in social networks and relationships. These resources can include the acquisition of information, obligations of reciprocity derived from mutual systems of trust, or use of cooperative social norms (Herreros 2004). Individuals mobilize these resources when they wish to succeed in a particular action. Lin states that individuals are cognitively aware of the presence of such resources and make a conscious choice in evoking them. They use social capital as an investment with expected returns. By engaging in interactions and networking, individuals can access or borrow the resources of others (Lin 2001).

Several scholars tout the positive effects of social capital. Putnam argues that social capital promotes and enhances collective norms and trust which are central to the production and maintenance of the collective well-being (Lin 2001). He adds that social trust enables communities to work together toward a common goal, for mutual benefit (Putnam 1995). Hooghe and Stolle agree, stating that social capital allows citizens to join forces in social and political groups and enables them to come together in citizens’ initiatives more easily. They believe social capital enables and facilitates collective action and allows citizens to overcome problems and to resolve conflicts more effectively (Hooghe & Stolle 2003). The existence of social capital, therefore, is vital to community development.

Conversely, however, closure is essential to the maintenance of social capital. Bourdieu states that membership in a group is based on a clear demarcation excluding outsiders: closure of the group and density within the group are required. Coleman adds that dense or closed networks are the means by which collective capital can be maintained and the reproduction of the group can be achieved. He sees network closure as a distinctive advantage of social capital, because it maintains and enhances trust, norms, authority, and sanctions, the solidifying forces which ensure individuals can mobilize network resources. Putnam also views dense, closed groups as necessary to the production of social capital (Lin 2001).

Though scholars deem closure necessary for maintaining the positive effects of social capital, it also promotes domination and inequality. Bourdieu describes social capital as the investment of members of the dominant class engaging in mutual recognition and acknowledgement to maintain and reproduce group solidarity and to preserve the group’s dominant position (Lin 2001). Gittel adds that at the turn of the 20th century, among the most important associations in America were charitable organizations which created social capital for themselves, but did not contribute to developing social capital for the poor. Rather, economic and social elites established those organizations to impose social controls on the poor and had no intention of including them in the system (Gittel 2003).

Schulman and Anderson highlight the dominating function of social capital in their study of a Southern textile community, revealing how social capital is embedded in local networks of power and domination. They describe “paternalistic” social capital, which involves hierarchical differentiation between classes and a concentration of power, thereby allowing those in the dominant class to maintain control (Schulman & Anderson 1999).

In addition to domination, the closure required by social capital can also be used to exclude and discriminate against others. Servon questions the “usefulness and merit” of closure in a heterogeneous society. She states that closure, the very social structure that produces social capital, also excludes entire groups. Closure operates in tight-knit, homogenous groups, forming a social structure which produces the positive side of social capital (trust, norms, and networks), but does so at the cost of perpetuating both exclusivity and a society in which identity determines whether or not one is allowed to join (Servon 2003:15-16).

Servon explains that perpetuating existing organizations and/or creating new ones
which draw strength from certain kinds of identity potentially deepens existing cleavages that feed intolerance and maintain institutions which discriminate along the lines of gender, race, class, and ethnicity. These homogenous associations in heterogeneous societies may strengthen trust and cooperative norms within an ethnic group (bonding capital), but weaken trust and cooperation between groups (bridging capital) (Servon 2003).

Putnam agrees that “social inequalities may be embedded in social capital. Norms and networks that serve some groups may obstruct others,” he states, “particularly if the norms are discriminatory or the networks socially segregated. Recognizing the importance of social capital in sustaining community life does not exempt us from the need to worry about how community is defined—who is inside and thus benefits from social capital, and who is outside and does not” (Putnam 1993:9). Hooghe and Stoole add that social capital can help societies achieve harmful goals. In predominantly white neighborhoods, for instance, community organizations can be used to exclude racial and ethnic minorities (Hooghe & Stolle 2003).

In fact, Gittel uses the exclusive function of social capital to explain racial segregation in the U.S. She states that there are differences in citizens’ ability to accumulate social capital and to convert it into political and civic action, and points out that race and the history of racism are essential determinants of the character and quality of participation in organizations and groups. Gittel explains that historically closed and hierarchically structured communities run by narrow elites socialize citizens to remain outside the system. Those excluded thereby suffer a lack of access to and experience in self-governance which limits association and trust-building among groups, and alienates the excluded from the political system (Gittel 2003).

Despite the lack of bridging social capital across racial groups, however, bonding social capital thrives within them. For example, the high level of social capital in the U.S. in the early 1960’s among the dominant white class also existed within black communities. In fact, social capital underwrote black communities’ ability to act together for social change (Snyder 2002). Putnam cites the importance of “the repositories of social capital within America’s minority communities,” stating that “historically, the black church has been the most bounteous treasure-house of social capital for African Americans. [It] provided the organizational infrastructure for political mobilization in the civil rights movement [and] is a uniquely powerful resource for political engagement among blacks—an arena in which to learn about public affairs and hone political skills and make connections” (Putnam 1993:7).

Unfortunately, few studies address social capital within minority communities. Gittel cites a lack of studies which distinguish differences in the kind and quality of social capital created by different groups or explain the reasons for those differences. Scholars have not sufficiently explored gender, race, and social differences, nor do they incorporate them in their theories. Further, there is little writing on the impact of structural racism and its effect on the creation of social capital (Gittell 2003). Servon adds that minority groups have different spaces in which to be political and to participate than do the mostly white, male, middle class groups studied by Putnam, and these spaces tend to be less visible. She believes scholars have a responsibility to render visible the spaces in which minority groups create trust, norms, and networks (Servon 2003).

Cultural Capital

Like social capital, cultural capital also plays a vital role in community development. Bourdieu introduces the concept of cultural capital by describing social space as separated into classes, bringing together people who are homogeneous in their cultural practices, patterns of consumption, and public opinions. Those who possess the knowledge of certain types of cultural practices achieve the power of cultural capital, defined by Bourdieu as an “idea of greatness that is handed down but can never be totally objectified” (Bourdieu 1998:15).

Other theorists describe cultural capital as “high status cultural signals used in cultural and social selection” (Lamont & Lareau 1988:153) and as “various kinds of legitimate knowledge, including a skill or education” (Ritzer & Goodman 2004). Merelman adds that cultural capital consists not only of technical skills, but of the symbolic mastery those skills convey (Merelman 1994). Importantly, cultural capital is exclusive; it marks those who appropriate it for themselves in a legitimate and natural fashion from impostors whose pretensions to claim it are discouraged (Pinto 1999).

Like social capital, cultural capital is used by those who possess it as an investment. Bourdieu viewed culture as a kind of economy in which people use cultural capital (largely a result of their social class origin and educational experience) for gain (Ritzer & Goodman 2004). In other words, individuals’ social position and family background provide them with social and cultural resources which need to be actively invested to yield social profits (Lamont & Lareau 1988). Cultural capital therefore represents investments by the dominant class in reproducing a set of symbols and meanings which perpetuate their domination (Lin 2001).

Bourdieu believes the dominant class uses cultural capital to maintain their position in society, an action he terms “symbolic violence.” For Bourdieu, the most important feature of symbolic violence is the process by which the dominant values and culture are accepted and taken in as one’s own without any resistance or conscious awareness on one’s part. Symbolic violence occurs in the pedagogic action through which the culture and values of the dominant class are legitimated as the “objective” culture and values of society, so that they are not viewed as culture and values which support and sustain the dominant class. The culture and values of the dominant class are “misrecognized” as the culture and values of the entire society. It is this acquisition and misrecognition of the dominant culture and its values which forms symbolic violence (Lin 2001).

Bourdieu maintains that the reproduction of the dominant class depends largely on the transmission of cultural capital, an inherited capital which appears natural and innate (Bourdieu 1993). A society’s dominant class imposes its culture by engaging in pedagogic action which internalizes the dominant symbols and meanings in the next generation, thus reproducing the salience of the dominant culture. Social reproduction, therefore, is the imposition of symbolic violence by the dominant class on the dominated class (Lin 2001). The reproduction of the distribution of cultural capital is achieved through familial strategies and by the specific logic of the school institution (Bourdieu 1998).

Like social capital, cultural capital also has exclusionary traits. Bourdieu states that language and cultural codes can be used for cultural profit and exclusion (Jenkins 1992). According to Bourdieu, “cultural gatekeepers” use dominant linguistic and dress codes as signals of intelligence, respectability, and distinction (Carter 2003), receiving a linguistic profit as soon as they open their mouths. The very nature of their speech denotes their authority to speak so that it hardly matters what they say (Bourdieu 1993).

Lamont and Lareau view the role of cultural capital in exclusion from jobs, resources, and high status groups as one of the most important original dimensions of Bourdieu’s theory. They propose a new definition focusing on cultural and social exclusion, defining cultural capital as “institutionalized, i.e. widely shared, high status cultural signals (attitudes, preferences, formal knowledge, behaviors, goods, and credentials) used for social and cultural exclusion” (Lamont & Lareau 1988:153,156).

Merelman builds on this notion in his exploration of the use of cultural capital to exclude blacks in American society. Merelman explains that as a subordinate racial group, blacks find themselves at a significant disadvantage to whites in the pursuit of cultural capital, especially in its credentialed form. He contends that in the U.S., isolation between the races has been more complete than isolation along gender, class, or white ethnic lines, pointing out that federal law did not even require blacks and whites to have access to the same public schools until 1954. In contrast, men and women, rich and poor, Poles and WASPs were never legally segregated in public schools, nor were these groups ever as segregated in practice throughout the range of life as blacks and whites are today. Merelman states that though we are decades past Brown v. Board of Education, most whites and blacks still attend different schools, and when in the same schools, usually occupy different educational tracks. He believes this severe isolation has enabled whites to control the definition and flow of cultural capital in most schools and universities and in the media (Merelman 1994).

Likewise, Bourdieu uses linguistic codes to highlight the segregating power of cultural capital, citing the difference between standard, white English and black American vernacular. Bourdieu contends that the dominated class (black Americans) speaks a particular version of English which is devalued. Therefore, every linguistic interaction between whites and blacks is constrained by the encompassing structural relation between their respective appropriations of English, and by the power imbalance which sustains it and gives the arbitrary imposition of middle-class, “white” English its air of naturalness. He adds that when a black person speaks to a white person, it is not simply two people speaking together. Rather, through them, the whole history of the economic, political, and cultural subjugation of blacks in the U.S. presents itself (Bourdieu 1992).

In her book Worlds Apart, Cynthia Duncan also uses the concept of exclusive cultural capital to explain blacks’ isolation from a society controlled by wealthy whites. Duncan defines culture as “a tool kit of symbols, stories, rituals, and worldviews that we assemble as we grow up and experience the world” (1999:189). Through our social relationships, she explains, we acquire the habits, skills, stories, and worldview which we use to make decisions about how to act. These decisions define how we relate to one another and become the patterns we expect and the norms governing how things are done. Further, “these decisions, rules, and experiences…are grounded in the structure of class power and racial oppression” (1999:192-3). Immediate social context shapes who the poor become and how they see their options as individuals and as a community. When a poor, black, urban youth is asked why he does not become a doctor, his response is not that he does not want to become one, but is rather, “Who, me?” According to Duncan, being a doctor is not a part of his tool kit; it is not part of what he believes he can become (1999:190).

Alternate Cultural Capital

Merelman describes an “alternate” cultural capital formed by American blacks as a result of their exclusion from dominant, white cultural capital. He states that the distinctive historical isolation of blacks has created some hostility to and suspicion of white-defined cultural capital. He points out that American blacks have been forced to survive not by assimilating into the dominant white group (as did many white ethnics), but rather by shielding themselves behind a defensive, protective culture designed to ward off, resist, and actively reject domination by whites. This distinctive culture causes many blacks to be ambivalent about the cultural capital largely controlled by whites, seeing in the acquisition of such capital not necessarily an opportunity for black ascent, but a device for reproducing oppression, division, and stigmatization (Merelman 1994).

Carter provides an example of the rejection of white cultural capital in a study involving low-income black youth. She states that racial discrimination and limited socioeconomic prospects compel some ethnic minority groups to maintain culturally different approaches to opportunity structures, thereby preventing them from gathering the requisite cultural capital for academic and socioeconomic success. According to Carter, a legacy of slavery and racism in the black social experience predisposes many black students to lower their aspirations for schooling because they believe high academic achievement only benefits white, middle class students. Academic achievement therefore comes to be seen as “acting white” (Carter 2003:137).

Like Merelman, Carter describes the development of a “non-dominant” cultural capital among low-income black youth which highlights how they resist the despair and hopelessness brought about by a limited opportunity structure. Instead of viewing their worth from the dominant social group’s standpoint, black youth produce alternative cultural tool kits with which to evaluate their own and others’ social actions. Dominated groups therefore possess their own standards and sets of norms which can be relatively autonomous from the dominant ones (Carter 2003).

Non-dominant cultural capital embodies a set of tastes, or schemes of appreciation and understandings, accorded to a lower status group which include preferences for particular linguistic, musical, or interactional styles. Non-dominant capital includes those resources used by lower status individuals to gain authentic cultural status positions within their respective communities (Carter 2003). Thus, lower status cultural signals (like being streetwise) perform within the lower class the same exclusivist function that high status symbols perform in the middle and upper classes (Lamont & Lareau 1988).

According to Carter, one of the central purposes of non-dominant cultural capital is to provide its users with the ability to navigate the terrain of ethnic authenticity using cultural codes and signals. In her study, black students’ desire to maintain a unique identity in a racially hierarchical society resulted in the creation of codes for authentic membership, which operated similarly to those conventionally associated with dominant cultural capital (Carter 2003). In dominated groups, codes act both as a criterion for determining who is legitimate or authentic, while excluding those that lack legitimacy (Clay 2003). Styles, tastes, preferences, and certain understandings mark one as either in or out. For the majority of students in Carter’s study, dress, music, and speech styles were the most salient signifiers of their racial identity (Carter 2003).

Authenticity enables members of the dominated group to gain status within the group and to preserve a boundary between themselves and outsiders. The students in Carter’s study set up symbolic boundaries in order to acquire status among themselves and to ward off outsiders, particularly non-black youth. As they laid these boundaries, they also evaluated who was most worthy of “black” cultural membership based on their use of specified resources. Cultural authenticity was therefore used both to draw boundaries between themselves and other ethnic groups and to socially control the cultural behaviors of members of their own group. Cultural capital served to reinforce their collective or group identity, giving them the power to discern who belonged and who did not (Carter 2003).

Like social capital, several scholars call for more studies exploring alternate forms of cultural capital in minority communities. Carter states that most cultural capital literature tends to ignore the non-dominant form, focusing instead on the experiences of the dominant social class. Therefore, the multiple ways cultural resources of other groups convert into cultural capital are ignored. She adds that current studies fail to raise a critical awareness of the value of non-dominant cultural resources within low-income, racial, and ethnic minority communities (Carter 2003). Clay adds that depictions of cultural capital and the black community have used white standards to cite the lack of cultural capital blacks have in relation to whites, instead of examining the alternative forms of cultural capital created by blacks (Clay 2003).

Bridging Social and Cultural Capital

Establishing bridging social and cultural capital between disparate community groups is necessary for community development. Scholars offer several methods to increase bridging social capital which can also be used to increase bridging cultural capital. Many of the methods resonate with the tenets of community development explored in the previous chapter, including the need for sensitivity to local populations, equity, open participation, a bottom up approach, and diverse leadership.

First, scholars cite the need to remain sensitive to local populations. Crothers states that leaders acting in diverse communities to regenerate social capital must be sensitive to the values, goals, and ideals of local populations if they are to act legitimately and to serve as models of the kind of democratic action idealized in the concept of social capital. Leaders should recognize the significance of community norms and values in shaping effective programs and remain aware of the interplay of values, goals, and interests as they do their work. According to Crothers, it is not sufficient to build a model of social recapitalization which assumes unanimity of interests, goals, values, (or cultures) (Crothers 2002).

Scholars also insist social and cultural capital must be rooted in equity. Gittell states that community organizations should be models of democracy and participation. Policies instilling open membership, internal democracy, equal representation, circulation of leadership, and self-determination are essential to the creation of community groups with an inclusive purpose (Gittel 2003). Community organizations and efforts must be open to all who wish to participate. The process by which goals are defined and programs are implemented will reveal whether citizens’ participation is actively sought or opposed. Therefore, leaders need to make choices which embrace democratic participation (Crothers 2002). Gittell adds that the measure of success for community organizing should be in outcomes of inclusion and participation (Gittel 2003).

In addition, scholars maintain that efforts to bridge social and cultural capital must be achieved from the bottom up. Programs aimed at expanding capital should be sensitive to neighborhood needs, designed in light of citizen capacities, and use a participatory model instead of a top-down approach. Unless citizens are engaged, Crothers states, social capital cannot occur (Crothers 2002). She adds that “real social recapitalization will need to be built from the street up, not imposed from the penthouse down” (Crothers 2002:234). Gittell agrees, stating that external creation of local organizations may be a diversion from locally conceived civic action, thereby minimizing community participation (Gittel 2003).

Another important component in bridging social and cultural capital is the involvement of leaders from the dominated group. Successful examples come from Birmingham in the 1990’s and Atlanta in the 1970’s, where newly elected black mayors helped to decentralize local government to the neighborhood level and encourage broader participation in low-income communities. Both mayors engaged new constituencies and marginalized populations in the political process, increased their presence in community policy, schools, local health care centers, and city halls, and fostered trust in the political system (Gittell 2003).

Likewise, the Dudley Street Neighborhood Initiative in Boston recruited leaders from dominated groups by establishing a board of directors with “equal minimum representation…for the neighborhood’s four major cultures- Black, Cape Verdean, Latino, and White” (Medoff & Sklar 1994:57). DSNI also distributed flyers in three languages, provided translation devices at meetings, and held multicultural festivals which served to build social capital by increasing interracial cooperation and build cultural capital by establishing a common neighborhood identity (Medoff & Sklar 1994). For the past five years, residents of York, Alabama have been attempting to create a racially inclusive art movement which mirrors community development efforts like DSNI. In order to evaluate their efforts, it is necessary to first provide a detailed description of the historical and modern manifestations of the art movement in York.