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Whittier |

I'm Eddie Evans and I am a self-employed crime scene cleanup technician. I work in and around Los Angeles County. My crime scene cleanup experience includes hundreds of death scene cleanups.
Roughtly 3% of our United States population experience significant violence.
Six-year-old Shooter Liked Violent Movies
by Joseph A. D'Agostino
The habitually belligerent six-year-old boy who on February 29 shot and killed a six-year-old girl at the Theo Buell Elementary School in Mount Morris Township, Mich., liked to watch violent movies and television and "hated everybody," his incarcerated father told police.
The boy stole the murder weapon-a.32 caliber pistol that had previously been stolen by the person he stole it fromfrom the crackhouse where he lived with his 8-year-old brother and an uncle who was wanted on a criminal warrant.
Yet, on March 2, pushing for a federal law that would mandate trigger locks for all guns sold in America, President Clinton said of this first-grade murder: "That child would be alive today if that gun had had a child triggef lock on it that the other six-year-old child could not have fired."
Here is the real story as reported in a series of articles in the Detroit News:
The boy's mother, Tamarla Owens, had abandoned him at the house of an uncle, Sir Marcus Winfrey, together with his 8-year-old brother. She had just been evicted from her own broken-down home. In 1992, she had been found guilty of abusing yet another son. The uncle himself had an arrest warrant outstanding against him.
The boy's father, Dedric Darnell Owens, 28, is currently in jail with a prison record going back to 1989, when he broke into a car. In 1992, he was charged with attempted murder, but the case was dismissed. In 1995, he went to jail for burglary and cocaine possession, and then was released on parole on Dec. 21, 1999. On February 20, he was sent back to jail for violating parole.
"He was basically living in hell," Genesee County Sheriff Robert Pickell said of the boy. "His father said he was always watching violent movies. always interested in guns." The sheriff said that Owens told him that he asked the boy why he hit his classmates, and even once stabbed a girl with a pencil. "I hate them," the boy said.
Owens said publicly that his son "hated everybody. He didn't get along with anyone. He watched violent movies and TV" He admitted to taking the boy to see a Terminator movie which he later saw again on video. The boy, the father said., had been suspended from school three times before the shooting, once for the stabbing. "He looked up at me," said the imprisoned Owens. "He always wanted to go where I wanted to go."
Michigan's Family Independence Agency reported last year that Tamarla Owens was abusing an older son. And a social worker signed an affidavit the day after the shooting saying that the mother was "involved with drugs." The agency had been informed of his history of violence at school.
Six-year-old Kayla Rollands, the victim, had attracted the boy's ire by spurning his physical advances, the News reported. "He wanted to kiss her, she told him no and then she spit on him," fellow student Naomi Butler told the paper, saying she heard the story from Kayla and Kayla's sister.
The next day the boy arrived at school from the crackhouse carrying the stolen gun. The Davis Industries .32-caliber semi-automatic pistol had been stolen from the home of its legal owner in a nearby suburb, used to trade for crack, and then, just 84 days after its theft, used to kill Kayla. Police said that Owens told them that guns were exchanged for drugs at the house all the time.
Not One In 50,000
Police found another stolen gun, loaded, at the house.
Family friend Jamelle James, 19, who lived with the uncle, has been charged with involuntary manslaughter for bringing the gun used in the shooting into the home and "twirling" it in front of the boy and telling him where he kept it which police say James admitted he did.
Police said the boy claimed he planned ahead of time to bring the gun to school and "frighten" the girl with it, but not to kill her. As students were filing out of the first-grade room to head to a computer lab, the boy loaded the gun with three bullets, pointed it at one student, then turned on Kayla and fired a single shot that passed through her arm and chest. He then put the gun in his desk and ran to the principal's office. Kayla died 30 minutes later.
Michigan social workers took 50,000 children from their families from 1995 to 1997, but the shooter was not one of them.
by Linda Heath , Candace Kruttschnitt , David Ward
Over the past 20 years, numerous scholars have attempted to determine what, if any, relationship exists between exposure to media violence and aggressive behavior. Most of these studies find at least a modest relationship between media exposure and aggression (Andison, 1977). Two key questions, however, remain unanswered. First, do the effects of media violence exposure extend to actual violent, criminal behavior, or are they limited to minor aggressions and acts of juvenile delinquency? Second, what factors, if any, enhance or moderate the links between media violence and aggressive or violent behavior? We attempt to answer each of these questions, beginning our analysis with a brief (and by no means exhaustive) review of the research concerning media effects on aggression and crime. (Comprehensive reviews of this literature can be found in Andison, 1977; Comstock, Chaffee, Katzman, McCombs, & Roberts, 1978; Geen, 1976; Liebert & Baron, 1972; Liebert, Neale, & Davison, 1973; Murray & Kippax, 1979).
GENERALIZABILITY OF EFFECTS
The relationship between exposure to media violence and aggressive behavior has been demonstrated in a series of laboratory and field experiments and quasiexperiments. These studies have found that the media-aggression link is enhanced if (a) the media aggression is presented as being justified (e.g., Berkowitz, 1965); (b) salient cues are present during the retrieval period (e.g., Berkowitz & Frodi, 1977); (c) the respondents are predisposed to aggressive behavior (e.g., Friedrich & Stein, 1973; Parke, Berkowitz, Leyens, West, & Sebastian, 1977); and (d) the respondent identifies with the violent character (e.g., Huesmann, Eron, Klein, Brice, & Fischer, 1983; Turner & Berkowitz, 1972). These findings apply not only to young children (Bandura, Ross, & Ross, 1963; Liebert & Baron, 1972; Singer & Singer, 1980) but also to adolescents (Belson, 1978; Hartman, 1969) and to college students (Berkowitz & Rawlings, 1963; Berkowitz & Geen, 1966). Media effects are found on aggressive behaviors, including hitting a Bobo doll (e.g., Bandura et al., 1963), shocking confederates (e.g., Berkowitz & Geen, 1966), verbal and physical aggression (e.g., Eron & Huesmann, 1980; Feshbach & Singer, 1971), and minor acts of juvenile delinquency (e.g., Belson, 1978; Mclntyre, Teevan, & Hartnagel, 1972). Finally, controlling for factors such as socioeconomic status, intelligence, race, and mother's education does not eliminate the relationship between media exposure and aggression and in some cases strengthens it (e.g., Mclntyre et al., 1972).
While most of the findings from these studies point in the same direction (i.e., exposure to media violence is related to increased aggression), a number of researchers have questioned the practical significance of these findings. Specifically, causal ambiguities (Freedman, 1984), the modest size of the effects (e.g., Cook, Kendzierski, & Thomas, 1983), and the restricted generalizability of the dependent variables have led scholars to question whether, in fact, these findings have any bearing on the commission of a violent crime. Comstock, for example, concluded that the link between media violence and criminal activity
. . . rests on the willingness of the person who chooses to sit in judgment to extrapolate from the findings on interpersonal aggression to more serious, non-legal acts. Most important, the evidence does not tell us anything about the degree of social harm or criminal anti-social violence that may be attributable to television. It may be great, negligible, or nil. (Halloran, 1980, pp. 439-440)
In response to these concerns, some scholars have examined the relationship between mass media violence and actual criminal behavior. Milgram and Shodand (1973), for example, examined the rate of theft from a charity box immediately following exposure to one of three variations of a television program and found no relationship. However, the assumption that exposure to deviant behavior on television would, in fact, result in immediate imitation of criminal activity is questionable. Menzies (1971) compared the media habits of violent offenders and property offenders who were incarcerated and found no differences, although television habits while incarcerated might not be reflective of prior media exposure.
Other researchers have used aggregate rather than individual-level data to examine the relationship between crime rates and media events. Phillips (1983) documented an increase in the homicide rate following major televised prizefights, particularly among males of the same race as the loser of the fight. Using a similar approach, Hennigan and her colleagues (1982) documented an increase in the theft rate in cities immediately following the introduction of television into those cities. (The observed increase in theft rather than burglary indicates that the effect is not attributable to television sets being stolen.)
Although studies based on aggregate data greatly increase the external validity of the media-violence relationship, they do not easily lend themselves to testing the effect mediating variables might have on this relationship. A concern over the effect of such mediating variables has led to a reexamination of the processes by which media messages translate into action, resulting in expansion and reinterpretations of the traditional formulations.
MEDIATING VARIABLES AND PROCESSES
In 1972 the Surgeon General's Scientific Advisory Committee on Television and Social Behavior concluded that television can, under some circumstances, for some children, lead to increased aggressiveness. Since then researchers have been trying to pinpoint under what circumstances and for which people the relationship between viewing and aggression is strongest. To understand why and for whom these effects hold, researchers have ventured into the realm of cognitive psychology.
For example, Huesmann (1982) posited that social modeling effects rely on the principle of encoding specificity. The recall of an event (media or real life) depends, in part, on the similarity of the recall situation to the situation in which the encoding occurred. For example, a violent altercation might trigger memories of violent television episodes more easily if the television was viewed (or encoded) amid a setting of family violence. Further, Huesmann posited that characteristics that attract attention (such as familiarity) contribute to the possibility that the event will be encoded and stored in memory. Geen (1983) has suggested that one characteristic of television violence that might make scenes more salient and memorable is the perceived reality of the violence. Again, violence in the home could increase the perceived reality and ultimately the memorability of television violence.
Berkowitz (1984) suggested that cognitive neoassociationism can help researchers understand how the interpretations people give to media messages, and the thoughts that are activated by these messages, might influence the behavioral consequences of such messages. Basically, cognitive neoassociationism posits the memory as a collection of networks, composed of individual nodes or units that are connected by pathways. Factors such as contiguity, similarity, and semantic relatedness influence the strength of these pathways. The activation of any one node or unit (e.g., a thought, feeling, scene) will spread down the pathways to other related nodes, resulting in a priming effect. Nodes that have been recently primed will be brought into consciousness more easily than unprimed nodes.
By extension, although not explicitly tested by previous research, violent media depictions might trigger aggressive means of conflict resolution if those conflict resolution means are located on the same memory networks as the media depictions. For example, the coding of family violence and television violence on the same memory networks could result in more violent means of dealing with future interpersonal conflicts. Berkowitz (1984) further emphasized the importance of the meaning attached to the media depiction by the viewer: "Aggression is in the mind of the beholder, and a movie will not activate aggression-associated thoughts unless the viewer regards what is seen as aggression" (p. 419).
Another possibility, however, is that aggressive media acts may trigger behaviors that outside observers would label as aggressive or violent, even if the viewer him/ herself does not apply such a label. That is, media depictions of violence may lead some viewers to consider violence as a normal act. In essence, then, violent media actions may be miscoded onto the wrong network and associated with units representing "appropriate conflict resolution means," for example. Such coding could entirely sidestep the aggressiveness label, both at the encoding state and at retrieval stage, but could still result in behavior that would be labeled "aggressive" by the average observer.
This miscataloging of violent media messages might be especially prevalent when viewers are exposed to what Gerbner, Gross, Morgan, and Signorielli (1980) called the double-dose effect. That is, when media messages match real-world family experiences, the media depictions might not be cataloged as "fictional" or "deviant" but, instead, associated with "real life" memory units (such as "how Mom and Dad resolve disputes"). This formulation is congruent with Geen's (1983) and Huesmann's (1982) suggestions that events that are perceived as real rather than fictional might be more salient and therefore more likely to be encoded, leading to greater probability of later retrieval and possible behavioral effects.
In this research we examine the hypothesis that exposure to television violence during critical adolescent years-identified by Eron (1982) as between 8 and 12-is related to the commission of a violent crime as a young adult, particularly for those people whose home environments contained violence.
METHOD
Respondents
We defined violent offenders as individuals who had been convicted of an offense that involved the use or threat offeree on a victim. As a result, most of our offender population were persons incarcerated for murder, rape, robbery, and/or aggravated assault. Because there were some cases in which other forms of criminal sexual conduct (e.g., incest) and kidnapping met our criteria of "threat or use offeree on a victim," they were also included in our inmate population. Similarly, we also included several "burglars" for whom the recorded description of the crime indicated that sexual or physical assault or threat of assault was involved in the criminal act.
The second criterion we used to identify the violent offender respondents was age. Because the validity of our data depends in part on accurate recall of events that occurred during childhood and adolescence, we selected individuals for whom these life stages were fairly recent, that is, offenders who were, at the time of our interviews, between 18 and 25 years of age.
Our third criterion was conviction in the county where the study took place. The study design called for a match of our inmate population with a comparison group who grew up in the same neighborhood between the ages of 10 and 14, and we could access comparison group respondents only from the immediate geographic area. We therefore restricted our inmate population to those committed to the institutions from Hennepin County, Minnesota, which includes the city of Minneapolis and its suburbs. Finally, because there were so few women incarcerated in Minnesota prisons for crimes of violence, we limited our study to men.
We completed interviews with 48 inmates who met the above four criteria.1 To increase the internal validity of this study, we matched our violent offender population as closely as possible with a noncriminal population on the basis of age, race, sex, and neighborhood of residence during adolescence. We began this matching procedure by plotting on a map of Hennepin County the address of each inmate when he was approximately 10 to 14 years of age and his race. We then went to the relevant neighborhoods and placed posters in supermarkets, playgrounds, youth centers, and other recreational facilities. The posters offered $25 to males between the ages of 17 and 26, willing to participate in a university research project on "life styles." The term "life styles" was purposely chosen to satisfy the human subjects committee's informed consent requirement without indicating that we were particularly interested in crime, violence, mass media use, and family relations. We chose such a vague term to reduce possible self-selection and rejection problems. The posters contained a phone number for interested parties to call in response. We screened each caller to determine his residence between the ages of 10 and 14, his race, his age, and his criminal history.2 Questions about criminal history were included to ensure that our control group did not contain individuals who had been arrested for or convicted of violent crimes. These matching procedures ultimately produced completed interviews on a comparison group of 45 individuals of the same sex, age, socioeconomic background, and neighborhood during adolescence as our offender population.3 Although we were unable to obtain a one-for-one match on the racial dimension, the relative racial proportions between the control and offender populations are quite similar.4
The Instrument
Our survey instrument was composed of open- and closed-ended questions and paper-and-pencil items. Interviews were conducted by trained personnel (including the authors) and ranged in length from 3 to 8 hours. Each interview was tape recorded, transcribed, and then coded into quantitative form. The same interview format was used for both inmate and comparison groups, with only slight modifications in the criminal history questions for the comparison sample. Items were designed to document not only the extent of our subjects' exposure to television but also their exposure to violence in the home, their degree of family cohesiveness, their school and peer relationships, and their prior experiences with the criminal justice system.
Television exposure was measured by giving photocopies of TV Guide fall programming summaries to our respondents. Because the relevant literature on exposure to television violence suggests that ages 8 through 12 are particularly important (Eron, 1982), each respondent was given a copy of the television listing for 1 week for the years when he was 8, 10, and 12 years old. He was asked to circle the shows he remembered watching all the time (or "regularly") and to put an X through the shows he watched only sometimes. In addition, we also asked our respondents to indicate the television shows and televison characters that were their favorites when they were between 8 and 12 years of age.
This retrospective television viewing self-report method was subjected to testretest reliability analysis prior to its use in this study. Heath and Petraitis (1984) found that with college students the same TV Guide sheets (corresponding to ages 8, 10, and 12) given out 7 to 10 days apart showed an exact-match test-retest reliability of .88. That is, the average respondent replied to 88% of the items identically during both of the sessions. Respondents were similar in age to the inmate and comparison samples and were therefore reporting viewing over a similar time span. Respondents in the reliability study did not know they would be asked to report television viewing a second time.
Our instrument also included six items that assessed physical abuse of the respondent by both his mother and his father. Factor analysis of these items indicated that they comprised two separate factors, one relating to paternal abuse and the other to maternal abuse. The paternal abuse items included three variables: (a) frequency of Dad losing his temper, coded in times per month or year; (b) what Dad did when he lost his temper, coded for degree of violence5; and (c) the consequence of the time Dad was the maddest, again coded for degree of violence. Maternal abuse was assessed by a similar method, using a scale composed of the above three items referencing mothers rather than fathers. Standardized scores were computed for the variables within each factor, and two additive factors were created (see Kruttschnitt, Heath, & Ward, 1986).
Our interviews revealed that family disorganization was a frequent characteristic of our respondents' childhoods. As a result, we thought that residential instability, which often accompanied family disorganization, might interfere with televisionviewing habits. Using a chronological indicator of changes in family life, we coded all individuals who were removed from their homes, for whatever reason, before 13 years of age as not having resided consistendy in their nuclear home. Those who stayed with their families until at least 13 years of age were coded as having had a consistent residence.
Finally, measures of the respondent's involvement in any recreational clubs and team sports and his race were included in the analysis. Recreational clubs and participation in team sports were included in order to control for time available for television viewing. The subject's race was included because we thought that individuals might be more likely to identify with television characters of their own race than characters of differing race. Previous research has shown not only that white television characters are more likely to use justified violence than minority characters (Gerbner, 1972) but also that viewing justified violence produces the more aggressive response in subjects (Geen, 1981). A respondent's race, therefore, may be related to his television viewing patterns and thereby to his subsequent aggression.
RESULTS
This study uses the epidemiological approach, whereby respondents are identified by variation on the dependent variable (in this case, violent behavior), and relationships to possible causal variables are examined. This approach is frequently used in medical research and is useful for studying correlates of rare events (such as the commission of violent crime). Although some statistics that are used with such an approach (e.g., ANOVA) are most often used in conjunction with experimental research, in epidemiological applications the results are clearly correlational. Consequently, we must be particularly concerned about possible confounding variables. By matching our inmate and comparison groups on neighborhood of residence during adolescence, we also succeeded in matching the groups on family size, family constellation at birth, number of household moves, socioeconomic status, and neighborhood crime rate. These variables should not, therefore, produce spurious effects. Further, none of these variables has been hypothesized to interact with media exposure in regard to violent behavior.
We did, however, examine time-usage factors that could be confounded with television exposure. Because adolescents have a limited amount of time for leisure activities, time devoted to any one activity could detract from time available for other activities. Two types of activities that could limit adolescents' available time for television viewing are involvement in organized sports and attendance at clubs. Neither of these activities, however, correlates significandy with time spent viewing television (for clubs and television, r = .08, N.S.; for sports and television, r = .07,N.S.). We also examined the possible interactions between time spent on sports and clubs and exposure to television in relation to violent behavior. The analyses revealed no significant interactions between television viewing and sports involvement in predicting violent behavior. Similarly, time spent attending club activities did not interact with television viewing in any systematic way.6
Another factor that could reduce the time adolescents have for televison viewing is removal of the adolescent from his natural home. Residence in a foster home, group home, or reformatory might entail restrictions on television viewing that would not be present in the natural home environment. To examine whether this variable would possibly confound our results, we compared the viewing habits of respondents who had been removed from their homes prior to age 12 with those of respondents who remained at home through age 12. Again, we found no relationship between viewing patterns and residential stability (r = .06, N.S.) and no patterns of interaction between media exposure and residence in regard to violent behavior (all F's < 1.00, MS.).
Finally, we examined possible parental controls over television viewing for confounds with actual television viewing. Respondents were asked if their parents had any rules about television viewing when they were young. Among the inmate sample, 34% indicated that their parents had some sort of television rules; and among the comparison sample, 54% indicated their parents had such rules. Almost all of these rules pertained to the amount of television viewing. (Only one inmate and two comparison respondents indicated parental restrictions on their viewing violent programs.) However, for both inmate and control respondents, these time restrictions do not appear to have been enforced. Among inmates whose parents supposedly had time restrictions on television viewing, 64% fell in the "high television exposure" group, compared with 48% of inmates whose parents had no rules. Similarly, among the comparison respondents whose parents restricted their TV viewing time, 50% fell in the high television exposure group, compared with 39% of those respondents whose parents had no time restrictions on viewing. We conclude, therefore, that variation in television viewing time was not merely an artifact of parental rule setting and supervision.
Analysis of Television Effects
We used discriminant analysis to differentiate between violent offenders and nonoffenders and included television exposure, maternal abuse, and paternal abuse as predictor variables. Discriminant analyses were performed on both the total sample and racial subsamples.7 We were also concerned about possible interaction effects. The correlations between the discriminant analysis interaction terms and their main effects (r's = .80 or above) indicated serious identification problems or evidence of multicollinearity. Therefore, we also used analysis of variance techniques; race, paternal abuse, maternal abuse, and television exposure (dichotomized at the respective medians) were entered as independent variables and violent behavior as the dependent variable.
The television exposure variables included the total number of shows watched "all the time" and the total number watched "sometimes" at 8, 10, and 12 years of age for each respondent. Because these six measures showed similar patterns, we collapsed across the three ages and across the frequency of viewing. The degree to which television programs contained portrayals of intentional harm served as our basis for distinguishing between violent and nonviolent television programs.
Table 1 presents the summaries of the discriminant analyses. As can be seen from this table, the television exposure variables (total viewing, violence viewing, and nonviolence viewing) enter all of the discriminant equations, but none of the equations provides particularly strong predictions of violent behavior. Analysis of the simple main effects indicates that inmates reported viewing more violent television as adolescents than did the comparison sample, F( 1,75) = 5.00,p <.05. Inmates reported viewing an average of ten violent television programs a week, and the comparison sample of respondents reported viewing an average of eight violent shows a week. This same trend is evident in regard to total television viewing, F (1,75) = 2.68, p <.11. Inmates watched a mean of 33 programs per week, while the comparison group mean was 28 programs per week. The pattern of results in regard to nonviolent programming was also in this direction, with inmates reporting watching 23 programs per week, compared with 19 programs per week for the control group. This finding, however, did not reach the standard level of statistical significance, F (1,75) = 1.86,jb = .18. The high correlation between violent television viewing and nonviolent television viewing (r = .82,p <.001) precludes our attributing the effect conclusively to either type of programming.
In summary, the discriminant analysis revealed three noteworthy findings. First, paternal abuse, maternal abuse, and television viewing all associate with violent adult behavior. Second, violent and nonviolent television viewing are highly correlated, preventing us from examining one effect separate from the other. Our respondents did not seem to discriminate much in their program selection, lending credence to the television industry view that "hooking" people early in the evening ensures high ratings all evening long. Finally, the multicollinearity problems prevented us from examining the interaction terms with the discriminant analysis and led us to the next set of analyses.
Because of the aforementioned problems with the discriminant analysis, we also used analyses of variance (ANOVAs) to examine our interaction terms. These analyses revealed that paternal abuse is marginally related to later criminal behavior- F (1,78) = 3.48, p <.10-with 56% of the respondents in the high paternal abuse category being incarcerated, compared with 47% of those in the low paternal abuse category. This effect, however, is subsumed under the significant interaction among paternal abuse, maternal abuse, and total television viewing, F (1,78) = 5.95, p <.05. As Table 2 indicates, respondents who were exposed to two forms of violent behavior (i.e., maternal abuse and TV, paternal abuse and TV, or both parental and maternal abuse) were more likely to engage in violent criminal behavior than were those respondents who were exposed to only one form of violence or to none. Exposure to all three forms of violence did not increase the likelihood of violent behavior over that of exposure to two forms. Importandy, no one form of exposure to violent behavior in isolation increased the likelihood of later criminal involvement. This same three-way interaction is apparent when television viewing is broken down into violence viewing and nonviolence viewing-both Fs (1,78) > 4.44, ps <.05.8 Again, however, because of the high correlation between violence and nonviolence viewing, we cannot attribute the effects conclusively to one type of programming or the other. Race did not enter significantly as a main effect or in any interactions.
We also wanted to know whether inmates were more likely than comparison respondents to list violent characters or shows as their favorites. A majority of both the inmate sample (58%) and the comparison sample (56%) listed violent programs as their favorites during adolescence. Inmates were slightly more likely to list comedies as their favorites than were comparison respondents (39% versus 30%, respectively), and comparison respondents were more likely to list nonviolent dramatic programs as their favorites thin were inmates (14% versus 0%, respectively). These differences are not, however, statistically significant. In regard to favorite characters, the comparison sample was, if anything, more likely to list violent male characters as favorites than were inmates (53% versus 44%). Again, inmates were more likely to identify comedians as their favorite characters (33%) than were comparison respondents (28%), and race was irrelevant to favorite character choice.
Finally, in regard to the judged reality of the television messages, both the inmate and the comparison samples appear to be fairly credulous. Among inmates, 70% indicated that the things that happen on television could happen in real life. In the comparison sample, 72% agreed with this judgment.
DISCUSSION
The basic findings of this study are straightforward: high exposure to television during childhood years was related to the commission of a violent crime during young adulthood if violence was also present in the home. Exposure to television without violence in the home was not associated with violent crime. While our findings cannot speak to the exact cognitive processes underlying this relationship among television exposure, violence in the home, and violent behavior, they are congruent with at least three formulations that have been proposed to explain these processes: cognitive neoassociationism, encoding specificity, and the double-dose formulation.
According to cognitive neoassociationism (Berkowitz, 1984), activation of one node or memory spreads down the associative pathways to other nodes that reside on the same network. Perhaps children who view television violence amid a setting of family violence form associations between the televised violence and such other concepts (or nodes) as "conflict resolution," "family relations," or "goal attainment." If such associations were formed, later experiences with family conflict or blocked goals could prime or trigger the violent television images, leading, perhaps, to violent behaviors. Peripheral support for this notion comes from Belson's (1978) finding that one type of television violence that is strongly related to adolescent aggression is violence that occurs in close relationships. Similarly, among individuals raised in a violent family setting, television violence might not be coded on networks that contain nodes such as "deviant," "unkind," or even "aggressive." Violent behaviors could thus come to be considered part of normal life and not be seen as aggressive or nonnormative. Anecdotal evidence for this possibility comes from observations by the interviewers in this study that many inmates did not consider sticking a gun in someone's face as an unkind or aggressive act. Instead, they viewed such behavior simply as a means to an end (generally the acquisition of material possessions or money).
The findings from this research are also consistent with the concepts of encoding specificity (Huesmann, 1982). If children encode the messages from television violence in a hostile and aggressive family situation, they might be more likely, if later presented with a hostile or aggressive situation, to pull out those images of television violence.
Our findings are also congruent with Gerber and his colleagues' (1980) notion of the double-dose effect. Getting the same violent message from two sources (i.e., TV and Mom, TV and Dad, or Mom and Dad) increased the effect of each source. The double-dose message seems to be that television violence is not fiction when either Mom or Dad, or both, are also violent. Any one source of exposure to violence, in isolation, was not associated with criminal behavior, nor did a third source increase the harmful effect of two.
This research was not intended to pit these various theoretical formulations against each other, nor are these formulations necessarily contradictory. In fact, the overall results of our study are consistent with all of the above-noted formulations. Extensive exposure to television viewing, when coupled with physical abuse by either parent, produced a stronger relationship with later criminal activity than was observed with either force working in isolation.
These findings, however, must be muted with two caveats. First, we cannot be certain, from this research, that the crucial element of television exposure is the violence. Because we were unable to distinguish the effects of viewing violent and nonviolent television, we cannot rule out the possibility that some message other than violence (e.g., depiction of material wealth, which might lead to feelings of relative deprivation) is responsible for the increased violence. Second, we purposely chose respondents who had been convicted of serious, violent crimes, and this selection criterion produces serious external validity limitations. Our respondents were young, urban males, predominantly members of minority racial groups, predominantly of the lower socioeconomic class. This is the prototypic high-risk group for criminal involvement. The effects of television and family violence might be different among older populations, rural populations, or higher socioeconomic groupings.
In summary, the findings from this research indicate that television exposure is not only related to hitting Bobo dolls, shocking other subjects, rough playground activity, and petty delinquent acts; it is also related to serious, violent crimes. However, what is most intriguing about these findings is the way in which television exposure is related to acts of criminal violence. We have found that mass media effects do not operate in a vacuum. As current integrations between traditional social learning models and information processing models posit (e.g., Berkowitz, 1984; Geen, 1983), the effect that television exposure has on violent behavior depends, at least in part, on other aspects of the observer's environment. Only when the media message is congruent with the perceptions and life experiences of the observer will the message be associated with later action.
-1-
by Beverly Rivera , Cathy Spatz Widom
Childhood victimization and violent offending represent two serious social problems confronting society today. Langan and Innes (1985) estimated that 3% of Americans, or approximately six million people, are victims of a violent crime during the course of a year. According to the American Humane Association, in 1986 about 2.1 million children were reported to authorities as suspected victims of child abuse or neglect. Approximately 1,100 children die each year under circumstances suggestive of parental maltreatment.
THE ROLE OF CHILD ABUSE AND NEGLECT IN VIOLENT OFFENDING
The literature is replete with reports of child abuse and neglect in the family backgrounds of violent offenders. Most of these studies document whether a relationship between child abuse and neglect and violent behavior exists and report the magnitude of the association. A number of these studies have involved delinquents (Alfaro, 1981; Pagan & Wexler, 1987; Farrington, 1978; Geller & Ford-Somma, 1984; Gutierres & Reich, 1981; Hartstone & Hansen, 1984; Kratcoski, 1982; Krattschnitt, Heath & Ward, 1986; Lewis, Shanok, Grant, & Ritvo, 1984; Lewis, Shanok, Pincus, & Glaser, 1979; McCord, 1983). Others have described a variety of patient groups (Blount & Chandler, 1979; Climent & Ervin, 1972; Montane, Leichter & Lewis, 1984; Tarter, Hegedus, Winston, & Alderman, 1984). Some of these studies provide support for the linkage between abuse and neglect and later violent behavior; others do not (Alfaro, 1981; Kratcoski, 1982). In some, abused delinquents were less likely to engage in later aggressive crimes (Gutierres & Reich, 1981) or had low incidence of child abuse and parental violence (Pagan, Hansen, & Jang, 1983). In most, the relationship has been found to be consistent but modest.
With few exceptions, these studies have relied on retrospective, unsubstantiated reports of abuse and neglect Most do not incorporate normal control groups into their designs. Since many of the same family and demographic characteristics found in abusive home environments are also related to delinquency and adult criminality, appropriate control groups are necessary to accurately assess the independent effects of childhood victimization. As Monahan (1981) argued, the most important piece of information we can have in the prediction of violence is the base rate of violent behavior in the population with which we are dealing. Without control groups to provide rough estimates of base rates, it is difficult to assess the magnitude of relationships. Widom (1989d) concluded, in a recent review of the cycle of violence literature broadly defined, that "methodological problems play a major role in restricting our knowledge of the long-term consequences" (p. 181).
In the fall of 1986, Widom began a study designed to overcome a number of the methodological problems associated with previous research. Using a prospective cohorts design, official criminal histories for a large sample of substantiated and validated cases of physical and sexual abuse and neglect from the years 1967 through 1971 were compared to those of a matched control group of individuals with no official record of abuse or neglect In analyses restricted to adult behavior, Widom (1989a, 1989b) reported that abused and neglected children demonstrate increased risk of becoming adult criminals and of becoming adult violent criminals, although this was true primarily for males.
CHILDHOOD VICTIMIZATION AND PATTERNS OF VIOLENT OFFENDING
Few published studies have extended the investigation of the relationship of childhood victimization to later violent criminal behavior beyond establishing the relationship and reporting its magnitude. However, there are a number of widely held assumptions regarding violent offenders that may or may not be effected by documented previous abuse and/or neglect in the backgrounds of these violent offenders. For example, violent offenders are primarily male (Duxbury, 1980; Piper, 1985; Strasburg,1984; Weiner & Wolfgang, 1985) and tend to be disproportionately represented by nonwhites (Geller & Ford-Somma, 1984; Piper, 1985; Strasburg, 1984; Wolfgang, Figlio, & Sellin, 1972). A small proportion of chronically violent offenders commit a large proportion of violent crime (Hamparian, Schuster, Dinitz, & Conrad, 1978; Wolfgang et al., 1972).
Furthermore, it is generally assumed that once becoming a violent offender as a juvenile, there is a high probability of continuing as a violent offender as an adult. Violent offenders are assumed to commit their first offense early in their delinquent careers (Hartstone & Hansen, 1984; Wolfgang et al., 1972) and to have an early age of onset of violent offending (Piper, 1985; Wolfgang et al., 1972).
PURPOSE
The purpose of the present article is to examine further the relationship between childhood victimization and violent offending from adolescence through early adulthood. First, the overall relationship between childhood victimization and violent offending is described, followed by an examination of the extent to which there are sex-specific and race-specific effects that mediate the association. This article then describes the extent to which childhood abuse and/or neglect effects other characteristics of violent offending including chronicity, age of onset, patterns of violent offending, and continuity from violence as an adolescent to violence as a young adult. Finally, this article addresses the cycle of violence hypothesis directly by examining whether violent (narrowly defined as physical abuse) experienced as a child leads to later violence as an adult.
METHOD
The data for the present article are part of a larger project, funded by the National Institute of Justice, to study the relationship between child abuse and neglect and violent criminal behavior (Widom, 1989a). Building on past work, this research was designed to incorporate a number of methodological improvements. These included a relatively unambiguous operational definition of abuse and neglect; a prospective design; separate abused and neglected groups; a large sample to allow for subgroup comparisons and to allow for conclusions with respect to violent criminal behavior, a control group matched as closely as posible for age, sex, race, and approximate social class background; and assessment of the long-term consequences of abuse and neglect beyond adolescence or juvenile court into adulthood.
This research is based on a standard design referred to as specialized cohorts (Schulsinger, Mednick,&Knop,1981,p. 12). Matched cohorts that are free of the "disease" in question (violent behavior) at the time they are chosen for the study are assumed to differ only in the attribute to be examined, that is, having experienced abuse or neglect as a child. At present, this research involves (and is limited to) the collection, tabulation, and analysis of existing official records. (For a complete description of the design and subject selection, see Widom, 1989a.)
In comparisons of delinquent or violent behavior it is often difficult to judge what portion of the differences is due to the experience or factors under study and what portion is due to being labeled a delinquent or violent offender. Our research does not totally avoid this problem, but by use of a prospective design, with data collection started at the point of abuse and/or neglect and before the onset of delinquency and violent behavior, the problem is minimized.
In studies of the relationship between child abuse and neglect and later delinquency or criminality, it is also important to avoid ambiguity in the direction of causality of the events. Specifically, cases occur where delinquency precedes abuse and/or neglect, or may cause the abuse or neglect Thus, to minimize this likelihood and to maximize the likelihood that th temporal direction is clear (that is, abuse or neglect -» delinquency or criminality), abuse and neglect cases were restricted to those in which children were less than 11 years of age at the time of the abuse or neglect.
Identification of Abuse and Neglect Cases
Abuse and neglect cases were those brought to the attention of the authorities, and only those validated and substantiated by the court are included. Specifically, all cases of physical and sexual abuse and neglect processed during the years 1967 through 1971 in the county juvenile court in a metropolitan area in the midwest were initially included. Abuse and neglect cases from the adult criminal courts were also included. In these cases, a criminal charge was filed against the adult defendant. During 1967 through 1971, there were 140 cases (physical and sexual abuse and neglect) processed in adult criminal court in which the victim was 11 years of age or less. After examining 2623 abuse and neglect petitions, a total of 908 cases were retained for this study. Reasons for exclusion include (1) adoption of the child as an infant; (2) what we called "involuntary" neglect only1; (3) placement only; and (4) the large number of cases of "failure to pay child support."
Physical abuse, also referred to as "cruelty to children," refers to cases in which an individual had "knowingly and wilfully inflicted unnecessarily severe corporal punishment" or "unnecessary physical suffering" upon a child or children. These cases include injuries such as bruises/welts, burns, abrasions/lacerations, wounds/cuts, bone /skull fractures, and other evidence of physical injury to the child.
Sexual abuse refers to a variety of charges, ranging from relatively nonspecific charges of "assault and battery with intent to gratify sexual desires" to more specific and detailed charges of "fondling/touching in an obscene manner," sodomy, incest, and so forth.
Neglect refers to cases in which the court found a child (or children) to have no proper parent care or guardianship, to be destitute or homeless, or to be living in a physically dangerous environment. The neglect petition reflects the judgment that the behavior represents a serious omission(s) by the parents-beyond acceptable community and professional standards at the time. Neglect cases represent extreme failure to provide adequate food, clothing, shelter, and medical attention to children.
Identification of Matched Control Group
One of the critical elements of this research design is the establishment of a control group matched as closely as possible on the basis of sex, age, race, and approximate family socioeconomic status during the time period under study (1967 through 1971). To accomplish this matching, the sample of abused and neglected cases were divided into two groups on the basis of their age at the time of the abuse or neglect incident* under and over school age.
Two control children were initially selected as matches for the abused or neglected child. This was done because one of the important elements of the design involves the assumption that the major difference between the abused/neglected group and the controls is in the abuse or neglect experience. Since this study is based on official records, the first attempt to gain control was to check the official records to determine if the proposed control subjects had been abused or neglected. If there was evidence that a control subject had been abused, then he or she was excluded from our control group. This occurred in 11 cases.
Children who were under school age at the time of the abuse or neglect were matched with children of the same sex, race, date of birth (+/-1 week), and hospital of birth through the use of county birth record information. Of the 319 abused and neglected children under school age, we have matches for 229 (72%).
For children of school age, elementary school records for the same time period were used to find matches with children of the same sex, race, date of birth, (+/- 6 months), and same class in elementary school during the years 1967 through 1971. Busing had not been implemented and the elementary schools were composed of students from small, socioeconomically homogeneous neighborhoods. Out of 589 school age children, we have matches for 438, representing about 74% of the group. Overall, we have 667 matches (73.7%) for the abused and neglected children.2
Demographic Characteristics
Abuse and Neglect Group. Among the abuse and neglect group, there are about equal numbers of males and females (49% versus 51%) and more whites than blacks (67% versus 31 %). The mean current age for the abused and neglected subjects is 25.69 (SD = 3.53). The majority of the sample are currently between the ages of 20 and 30 (85%), with about 10% under age 20 (the youngest is 16) and 5% older than 30 (the oldest is 32).
Control Group. There are also equal numbers of males and females in the control group, and approximately the same percentage of whites (65%) and blacks (35%). The mean age for the control group is 25.76 (SD = 3.53). As with the abuse and neglect group, most of the controls are between the ages of 20 to 30, with the youngest being 16 and oldest 33.
The current age distribution of both groups in the sample indicates that our design has allowed sufficient time for most of the subjects to come to the attention of authorities for delinquent, adult criminal, and violent behavior (Hartstone & Hansen, 1984; Rojek & Erikson, 1982; Strasburg, 1978; Wolfgang et al., 1972).
Data Collection
Abuse and Neglect Incident. Juvenile court and juvenile probation department files (which processed cases of delinquency, neglect, or dependent children) were examined in order to collect detailed information on the original abuse and/or neglect incident. Incident information included age of victim at the time of the incident type and extent of physical injuries, the characteristics of the perpetrator, and the disposition of the case or placement information.
Juvenile Delinquency. Juvenile probation department files were utilized to collect information on delinquent activity for both the abuse and neglect group as well as the controls. Records of the Bureau of Motor Vehicles were examined to find social security numbers to assist in further tracing of the subjects. Marriage license records were also searched for the females in both groups to find married names.
Adult Criminal History Information. Local, state, and federal agencies were searched for adult criminal histories on both the abuse and neglect group and the control group.
Dependent Variables
Definitions of the dependent variable violent criminal behavior and three age-related terms are as follows: Violent offenses include arrests for murder/attempted murder, manslaughter/ involuntary manslaughter/reckless homicide, rape/sodomy, robbery/robbery with injury, assault/assault and battery/aggravated assault, and battery/battery with injury3. Juvenile violent refers to an arrest for a violent offense committed while the person was less than 18 years of age. Adult violent refers to an arrest for a violent offense committed by a person 18 years of age or older. Any violent refers to any arrest for a violent offense (juvenile or adult).
RESULTS
Table 1 presents the percentage of violent offenders by group (abuse and neglect versus controls) for the three dependent variables-juvenile violent, adult violent, and any violent overall - and by sex and race separately. Interestingly, while the abuse/neglect group had significantly higher frequencies of any violent offending than the nonabused group (X2 = 4.68,4f= 1,p <.05), differences between the groups in the extent of violent offending as a juvenile (juvenile violent) and as an adult (adult violent) did not reach customary levels of significance. In all cases, however, the abuse/neglect group had higher frequencies of violent offending.4
Sex
The percentage of violent offenders by group and sex was also examined (see Table 1). Not unexpectedly, males have higher rates of violent offending than females for all levels of offending. However, in contrast to the existing literature on violent juvenile offenders, we did not find significant differences between abused and neglected and control males as juveniles. Specifically, males in our sample who were abused and neglected were not more likely to commit a violent offense as a juvenile than control males. Abused/neglected males were, however, at greater risk of committing a violent offense as an adult (x2 = 4.82, df = 1, p <.05) and any violent offense (x2 = 4.79, df = l,p <. 05) than control males.
Females who were abused/neglected were not significantly more lilely to commit a violent offense than nonabused females, although there was a tendency for abused/neglected females as juveniles to have a higher frequency of arrests for violent offenses than control females. This pattern contrasts strongly with the pattern for males described earlier. Abuse and neglect did not increase the likelihood of juvenile violence for males, whereas for females there was a trend toward increased violence as juveniles among those abused and neglected.
Race
Table 1 also presents the percentage of violent offenders by group and race. Surprisingly, there were no differences in violent offending between whites who were abused/neglected and those in the control group. For whites, then, being abused or neglected as a child does not appear to increase one's likelihood of being arrested for a violent offense. This contrasts dramatically with our findings for blacks. Blacks who were abused/neglected had higher rates of arrests for violent crimes for the three dependent variables in this analysis than blacks in the control group, although differences were significant only for arrests under the adult violent (x2 = 4.56, df = \,p <.05) and any violent (x2 = 7.22, df = 1,p <.01) categories.
In sum, abused/neglected males had a higher percentage of any violent offender than nonabused males. Blacks who wereabused/neglectedhadhigherpercentagesof any violentoffender than did blacks who were not abused. Abused and neglected females and whites did not show increased propensities for "any violent offending" in comparison to those not abused.
To go beyond simple bivariate tests, three separate logistic regression equations were estimated, predicted to dichotomous outcome variables (see Table 2). Using iterative maximum likelihood methods, three equations were estimated for violent arrests as a juvenile, as an adult, and any violent arrest as the dependent variables, with race, sex, and abused/ neglected versus control group status as explanatory variables.
Coefficients from logit models can be directly related to odds ratio measures. When "dummy" coding is used, exponentiating the coefficients of the association parameters gives the ratio of the odds of a positive response for the included versus the excluded group. As you can see from Table 2, males and blacks had greater odds for a violent arrest as a juvenile than females and whites. For adult arrests for violence and for any arrest for violence, all four predictor variables (sex, age, race, and abuse/neglect status) contributed significantly. The odds for an arrest for a violent crime were highest for the oldest black male who had been abused and/or neglected.
Age of Onset
Age of first officially recorded arrest was used to indicate the age of onset of criminal behavior in the abuse/neglect and control groups (see Table 3). A 2 x 2 analysis of variance was done comparing abused/neglected versus controls and violent versus nonviolent offenders with age at any first arrest (juvenile or adult) as the dependent variable. Both main effects were significant (for abuse/neglect versus controls: F = 5.64, df = 1,563, p <.02; for violent versus nonviolent F =6.l5,df = l,563,p <.02).Theinteraction was not significant. Overall, abused and neglected children began their delinquent careers earlier than controls (16.48 versus 17.30 years) and violent offenders were arrested earlier than nonviolent offenders (16.11 versus 17.01 years).
Given the emphasis here on violent offending and the importance in the criminological literature on age at first violent offense as a predictor of later serious outcomes, we also examined age at first violent offense for abuse/neglected subjects versus controls. A t -test was first done to determine whether, in addition to an earlier age of onset generally, abused/ neglected subjects had an earlier age of onset of violent offending. Surprisingly, abused and neglected subjects and controls overall did not differ significantly on age of first violent arrest (19.05 versus 19.68).
The assumption is often made that the earlier age of onset of delinquent behavior, the greater the probability of continuation and escalation. This is based on the notion that delinquent behavior "untreated" will continue to spread. Or, in learning theory terms, children socialized into violence who manifest this behavior early retain a commitment to such behavior through the life span. For example, Hamparian et al. (1978) found that those first convicted at the earliest ages tended to be the most persistent offenders. While our results indicate that abused/neglected children and violent offenders began their delinquent careers earlier than those nonabused/neglected and nonviolent offenders, our findings also support the general principle that earlier age of onset predicts to more offending. In separate multiple regression analyses controlling for current age of the subjects, age at first offense was significantly negatively correlated with total number of any offenses (ft - ~.32,p <.001) and for total number of any violent offenses ()3 = -.27, p <.001).
Patterns of Violent Offending
Based on a reading of criminal histories, it seemed possible that aggregating the sample of violent offenders and treating them as a homogeneous group might obscure important differences. Since there are a number of pathways through which one can become a violent offender, it also seemed possible that these different patterns may be useful in furthering our understanding of the antecedents and consequences of violent offending and that these patterns should be explored. Using the notion of criminal careers (Blumstein, Cohen, & Farrington, 1988), we examined violent offending over the course of the life span, dividing our data into two distinct time periods-adolescence (approximately ages lOto 17) and early adulthood (ages 18 to 33). Accordingly, there are five patterns of violent offending (illustrated in Table 4). Interestingly, abused/neglected and controls were distributed roughly in proportion to their numbers across the five violent offending patterns (%2 = 4.3, df= 4, ns).
Two separate ANOVAs were done for age at first any offense (Table 4) and for age at first violent offense (Table 5) for the five patterns. For each ANOVA, the pattern of violent offending had a significant impact on age at first offense [Any first (Table 4): F - 50.25 df = 4,145,p <.001; First violent (Table 5): F = 45.89, df = 4,144, p <.001]. In part, this is not terribly surprising because those people with arrests as juveniles obviously had an earlier age at first offense than those with adult arrests only. Among these violent offenders, however, the group effect (abuse/neglect versus controls) did not differentiate for age of onset for any first arrest (F = 1.08, df =1,145, p =.30) or for age of first violent arrest (F =.21, #=1,144, p =.65). The interaction for Any first (Table 4) was significant (F = 3.11, df =4,145, p <.05), but for First violent (Table 5), the interaction was not significant (F =1.72, df =4,144, p =.15).
Some striking findings should be noted. Based on past literature, one might have expected that those in the type I category (violent -> violent) would have begun offending at the earliest age. However, the mean age at Any first arrest is relatively the same across the patterns of violent offending, and the mean age at First violent arrest for this group is later. As a whole, the violent -»violentoffenderswerenotmorelikelytobeginviolentoffending at an earlier age.
Looking at Any first, it is clear that the first four patterns of violent offending (types I-IV: violent -> violent, violent -> nonviolent, violent -> no arrest, and not violent -*? violent) came in contact with the criminal justice system at about the same time, at approximately age 13 to 14. However, the last group (type V: no arrest -» violent) had no official contact as a juvenile (no arrests at all), then became an offender as an adult (mean age = 20.40), and shortly thereafter had an arrest for a violent crime (mean age = 21.90).
Looking at age at First violent arrest, a somewhat different pattern is evident Here, the first three groups (I-III) began violent offending at age 14 to 15 (about a year or so after they began offending in general). These early onset violent offenders represent 37% of the group of violent offenders and 10% of all offenders in our sample. The majority of violent offenders do not follow this pattern of early onset In our sample, 63% of the violent offenders became violent as adults. Looking backwards, of those with violent arrests as adults, only 17% had arrests for violent crimes as juveniles.
Of the entire group of violent offenders, there is one small group of abused/neglected children (within type I, n = 13) who began their criminal careers very early (mean age at Any first arrest = 11.58) and earlier than any of the other groups. With one exception, these are cases of neglect, not abuse. Interestingly, based on our information from the juvenile probation department records, only one of the 13 was described as having behavior problems or being ungovernable, and none were described as having problems with truancy. Looking at available information on other family and demographic characteristics, there appears to be no distinguishing feature of this small group. However, based on these patterns of violent offending, it would appear to be useful to examine more carefully the factors that influence entrance into violent offending at different life stages, and particularly the relevance of these patterns to antecedents.
Exploring the potential usefulness of this temporal typology of violent offending a little further, we examined the extent (average number) to which the five groups were arrested for violent offenses. In two separate ANOVAs, using current age of the subjects as the covariate, the total number of any offenses (see Table 6) and total number of violent offenses (see Table 7) differed significantly across the five violent off ending patterns. Within these violent offenders, two groups (one early onset and one later onset) account for a higher rate of offending, a finding consistent with previous literature. However, in terms of prevention of further violence, Group III (violent-» not violent) ought to be studied since they were violent as juveniles but appear to desist from violence as adults.
Chronicity
Along with the notion that violent offenders begin their criminal careers early, there is another assumption that violent offenders are more likely to be chronic offenders. The extent of chronicity of these violent offenders was examined, and these findings are presented in Table 8. Following Wolfgang et al. (1972), we divided our subjects into three groups as follows: none (no arrest), one (one arrest for a violent crime), and chronic or frequent (two or more arrests for a violent crime).
As juveniles, there were significantly more chronic violent offenders among the abused and neglected children than among the controls, by a factor of about 12 to 1 (1.2 versus .1). However, as adults, the groups did not differ in chronicity (3.5% versus 2.1%), and differences in chronicity over the life span (ever having an arrest for a violent crime-as a juvenile or as an adult), only approached significance (p <.10).
Continuity
A related assumption is that there is continuity in criminal careers-that once a person begins a delinquent career, the likelihood is high that it will continue. Given that abused and/ orneglected subjects are at higher risk for delinquency andadultcriminality(Widom,1989c), it might also be expected that they would be more likely to continue in crime, unable to break the cycle of violence. Table 9 presents our findings on the continuity between juvenile antisocial behavior and adult criminal behavior for any arrests and for violent arrests separately for abused and neglected subjects and for controls.
Of those with juvenile offenses, roughly the same proportion of abused and neglected children and controls go on to commit offenses as an adult (53% versus 50%). This compares with about 20% of the abused and neglected subjects, and 15% of the controls who did not have an arrest as a juvenile. Of those with violent offenses as juveniles, approximately the same proportion go on to commit violence as an adult in the abused and neglected group (34%) as do in the controls (37%). Despite major differences in the extent of involvement in criminal activity, non-abused and neglected subjects are just as likely as abused and neglected individuals to continue criminal activity once they have begun.
DISCUSSION
Early childhood victimization demonstrably increases the risk of violent offending through the life span; however, the effects are not distributed similarly across the sexes and races. Increased risk of ever becoming a violent offender was found primarily in abused and neglected males compared to control males. Interestingly, as juveniles abused and neglected males did not show higher rates of violent offending than controls.
In contrast to the effects of early childhood victimization on females in terms of increased risk for delinquency and adult criminality in general (Widom, 1989c), adult females who were abused and neglected were not more likely to commit a violent offense than nonabused females. As juveniles, though, abused and neglected females tended to be at greater risk of being arrested for a violent offense than control females. Because of the very low rates of violent offending in females, the lack of significant differences is not surprising. However, the pattern of this difference (in contrast to that found for males) is very provocative. Although this may be a spurious finding, related to an increased surveillance by the justice system of abused and neglected females, further exploration of this unexpected result is planned.
The long-term consequences of childhood victimization for violent offending differed dramatically by race. For whites, abused and neglected children did not have significantly higher rates of violent arrests than the controls. In contrast, blacks who were abused and neglected, compared to blacks who were not abused, had substantially higher arrest rates for violent offending (juvenile, adult, and any). This striking finding warrants discussion and further examination. Because these findings are based on official records and because official records overrepresent minority groups, the most obvious explanation for the higher rates of violent arrests among blacks is that these results reflect bias and discrimination within the criminal justice system. However, this explanation does not seem to explain the differences within blacks and the lack of differences within whites.
Other possible explanations for these race-specific findings are that parental violence is more severe among blacks than whites or that nonwhites are more physically abusive with their children and within their homes than whites. To the extent that we can address these issues.however.ourdataindicatethatthisisnof the case. Within whites, approximately 20% suffered physical abuse, compared to the percentage for blacks of less than 9%. Blacks suffered more neglect relative to whites in our sample.
Furthermore, based on data from the National Study on the Incidence and Severity of Child Abuse and Neglect (National Center on Child Abuse and Neglect, 1981) and the National Study on Child Neglect and Abuse Reporting (American Humane Association, 1984), the percentage of black and white children reported for child abuse and neglect appears to be representative of the United States population at large. If anything, black families were characterized by more neglect and slightly less physical and sexual abuse (as found in our study), whereas white families were characterized by more abuse or combined abuse/ neglect Thus racial bias in official reports showing more blacks being reported for abuse or neglect was not found in the NCCAN and AHA studies.
It is possible that another type of discriminatory treatment by the system might be at work here. Abused and neglected black children in our sample could have been subjected to more extreme victimization than white children before coming to the attention of officials at the time, if we postulate a justice system that expects and tolerates higher levels of violence among black families. Following this scenario, only the most extreme cases of physical abuse in black families would be reported to the authorities, and thus these cases would not be comparable to cases of physical abuse from white families. Unfortunately, our data do not permit examination of this question. Given our very dramatic findings about these racespecific effects and that other researchers have found background experiences associated with violent crimes to vary depending on the person's race (Kruttschnitt et al., 1986), future research should examine these issues.
Age of onset of offending is believed to have important implications for future criminality (Robin, 1964). We found that abused and neglected children and violent offenders began their delinquent careers earlier than nonabused and neglected children and nonviolent offenders. Within the violent offenders in our sample, we also found that earlier age of onset was negatively associated with more arrests in general and for violent crimes in particular.
In a survey of violent juveniles, Hamparian et al. (1978) found that the mean age at first arrest for violence was 14.4, in comparison to the average age of 13 for first arrests generally. In England, Wadsworth (1979) also found that the first conviction for violence occurred at a later age than the first conviction for other offenses. We also found that arrest for violence occurred later than more general arrests (about a year later on average). However, for the group of violent offenders as a whole, the mean age is 16 for any first arrest and 17 for first arrest for a violent crime. This is much later than age of onset of arrests reported in studies of violent/wvem'fe offenders, such as that from Hamparian etal. (1978)describedabove. Age of onset varies dramatically with the pattern of violent offending. Our findings suggest that a typology based on temporal patterns of violent offending, in line with the construct of criminal careers, may be useful in examining factors associated with violent careers and in the development and testing of theories of violent offending. Based on our findings, crosssectional glimpses into the careers of violent offenders miss these differences and may in fact be misleading.
Despite the fact that victims of early child abuse and neglect differ from nonabused and neglected children on a number of indices of violent offending, not all aspects of violent offending differentiate the groups. One example of such a similarity between the groups is provided by our finding of no differences between the groups in continuity between arrests for violent crimes as a juvenile and violence as an adult Despite significant differences in the extent of involvement in violence and the age of onset, nonabused and neglected children are just as likely as abused and neglected children to continue violent offending once they have begun.
These findings are interesting in connection with recent literature in criminology, particularly debates on criminal careers (Blumstein et al., 1988; Gottfredson & Hirschi, 1988). While our findings indicate that officially recorded abuse and neglect increase the likelihood of having an official criminal record and speed up entrance into officially recorded delinquent activities, early childhood victimization does not appear to place one at increased risk for continuing in a life of crime. These findings lend weight to the importance of distinguishing factors that may stimulate individuals to become involved in crime and violence from factors that affect the continuity or discontinuity of criminal careers. Furthermore, these findings suggest that there may be aspects of criminal careers that are relatively resistant and not affected by factors such as early childhood victimization.
This study suffers a number of limitations that should be kept in mind in interpreting these findings. Pagelow (1982) has suggested that labeling children involved in officially recorded cases of abuse and neglect, in many cases disrupting their residence with their families and stigmatizing their parents, may create a self-fulfilling prophecy that may be difficult to resist or overcome. Because this research is based on official records of both independent (abuse and neglect) and dependent variables (violent offending), generalizing to different types of abuse and neglect cases should be avoided (Widom, 1988). For example, one cannot generalize from these findings to unreported cases of abuse and neglect, and especially to cases handled unofficially by private medical doctors. In addition, because of our exclusions, these findings are not generalizable to cases of abused and neglected children who were adopted in early childhood. It is also important to determine the extent to which all subjects (abused and neglected and controls) report having experienced child abuse or neglect and contacts with criminal justice agencies that have not been disclosed through official records.
Our findings support some frequently held assumptions about violent offending, but they also seriously challenge some popular assumptions. While early child abuse and neglect increase the risk of violent offending, not all childhood victims become violent offenders. While there seems to be a small group of chronically violent offenders, most violent juveniles do not become adult violent offenders. Although abused and neglected children are at increased risk for violent offending, the relationship between early childhood victimization and later violent offending is not universal. Thus further research is needed to understand what accounts for the differences in children who succumb to violent behavior and those who appear relatively invulnerable to these long-term consequences.
One obvious place to begin intervention programs would be to focus on the early onset violent offender (type I) who commits a large number of general and violent offenses. However, before initiating such programs, it is important to understand more about this small group-their family backgrounds, personal characteristics, social supports, and so forth-factors that may have contributed to the maintenance of their delinquent and violent criminal behavior. At the same time, we need to examine the lives of the individuals in the other groups (II and HI) who were violent as juveniles but were not rearrested for violent crimes as adults. Unfortunately, designs such as this one that depend on archival records are weak in understanding process, since they are typically undertaken to record performance out-comes and not the processes mediating performance (Cook & Campbell, 1979). We are beginning a follow-up study of these violent offenders to remedy some of the limitations of the current study and to examine more carefully the roles of risk and protective factors in the lives of these abused and neglected and control children.
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Temporal, Situational and Interactional Features of Women's Violent Conflicts.
by Christopher W. Mullins , Jody Miller
This article examines contextual and situational influences on the processural development of women's violent conflicts. Through close analysis of 3 women's accounts of their disputes and associated violent behaviours, we provide a rich description of how such events evolved over time and how the interviewees managed this process. Drawing upon both criminological and feminist theories, our analysis highlights existing gaps in the literature, providing an exploratory discussion of the interaction of gender with situational elements and the production of assaultive events.
Criminologists have long recognised the importance of situational context for understanding criminal events, especially violence. Research in this tradition attempts to 'specify the situational conditions that might channel violent dispositions into action' (Baron, Kennedy, & Forde, 2001, p. 760; see also Luckenbill, 1977). Much of this work has focused on identifying the stages of violent incidents, examining as well how other situational factors, such as the presence of third parties or weapons, the disputants' relationship, and the physical location of the event, affect the likelihood of a violent resolution (Baron et al., 2001; Deibert & Meithe, 2003; Felson & Steadman, 1983; Luckenbill & Doyle, 1989).
Such research has been limited, however, in three important ways. First, situational factors have garnered much more attention than interactional processes within violent events. As Short (1998, p. 12) points out, a focus on interactional processes--including 'ongoing interaction among event participants [and] the moral and emotional transformations that enable and motivate criminal acts'--can provide a much richer contextual understanding of 'decisions made and actions taken during those events'. Given the dominance of opportunity approaches for studying criminal situations, a primary emphasis has been on discrete, measurable behaviours, with limited concern for participants' subjective interpretations and motivations, including how these emerge processually (see Birkbeck & Lafree, 1993 for a discussion; but see Katz, 1988).
Second, a related problem is that many investigations are truncated temporally. They focus on the unfolding of immediate events leading up to a violent outcome, with limited attention to the long-term social processes and interactions between dispute participants that contextualise the incident. When considered, context is typically conceptualised in terms of particular subcultural values (including those emerging from structural dislocations) that may predispose individuals towards violence (see, for example, Anderson, 1999; Bernard, 1990). Rarely have scholars also considered the ongoing contexts of participants' relationships and interactions with one another. (1)
Finally, while some research has examined the impact of masculinity constructions on men's interpersonal violence (see Messerschmidt, 1993; Mullins, 2006; Oliver 1994; Polk, 1994; Winlow, 2001), relatively few studies have considered how gender shapes the situational contexts of violent disputes for women (but see Kruttschnitt & Carbone-Lopez, 2006; Miller & Mullins, 2006; Mullins, Wright, & Jacobs, 2004). Fewer still have explicitly examined how gender interacts with race, class, place and age to create 'the intersectionality of inequalities' (Roth, 2004, p. 11) that shape women's experiences in specific social locations, including their experiences with violence (see Crenshaw, 1995; Maher, 1997; Potter, 2006). As Daly (1998) argues, and much feminist research has demonstrated, gender--along with race, class, place, and age--organises the daily lives of girls and women, and boys and men, and structures both individuals' identities and their available courses of action. Thus, important questions include how situational and interactional processes associated with girls' and women's violent conflicts are gendered, how this gendering is embedded within social locations of intersecting inequalities, and how examination of these processes can enrich our understanding of the social contexts and circumstances that surround the use of violence.
To examine these questions, we describe and analyse the evolution of interpersonal disputes among adolescent and adult women in a disadvantaged urban African American community. Specifically, we provide a detailed examination of three cases of violence escalation. In-depth case research is a means of providing a relatively holistic and contextually embedded understanding of individuals' actions and interactions as they unfold in time and space (see Feagin, Orum, & Sjoberg, 1991; Verschuren, 2003). Here, they provide a means of exploring temporal features of women's conflicts, located in the contexts of their ongoing relationships with disputants and others; the situational features and interactional processes that shape the nature and outcomes of disputes; and their embeddedness within the configurations of inequality faced by girls and women in urban communities characterised by racial segregation, economic inequality, high levels of crime and attendant responses to these challenges.
Conceptual Context
Since the 1980s, some criminologists have pointed to the need for close examination of criminal events and situations. Alternatively influenced by symbolic interactionism and opportunity theories, such approaches begin with the understanding that crime, as social behaviour, emerges from specific behavioural contexts and situations. Event-focused studies have taken several approaches. Some seek to identify stages leading to violent escalation, for example, Luckenbill and Doyle's (1989) conceptualisation of naming, claiming and aggressiveness, also described as 'character contests' (see also Baron et al., 2001; Deibert & Meithe, 2003), or Felson and Steadman's (1983) verbal conflicts, threats and evasive action, followed by physical attack.
Others have examined the role that situational factors play in aiding or hampering the likelihood of violence, including during these stages. This approach to situational context has evolved most visibly into the routine activities tradition, which focuses on the convergence in time and space of a motivated offender, suitable target and absence of capable guardians (see Felson & Steadman, 1983, Clarke & Felson, 1993). In addition, some social situations are more criminogenic than others. Most attention to these aspects of criminal events has focused on the role of subcultural values in predisposing individuals towards violent conflict resolution strategies, and has examined the role of structural dislocations in producing these 'aggressive regulative rules' (Baron et al., 2001, p. 762).
For example, residents in disadvantaged urban communities face specific challenges resulting from the limited availability of institutional, political and economic resources. This hinders the development and sustainability of collective efficacy among community residents, contributes to distrust of formal agents of social control and heightens the approval of and need for problem-solving in the form of self-help--including, in some situations, the use of violence (McNulty & Bellair, 2003; Sampson & Bartusch, 1998; Sampson, et al., 2002). The broad contours of these general processes have been well substantiated, with some research on situational context framing events within these mesolevel and macrolevel contexts. This research suggests that subcultural responses to disadvantage result in individuals' greater likelihood to define harms as injurious, demand reparation and utilise aggression in response (Anderson, 1999; Baron et al., 2001; Baumer et al., 2003; Bernard, 1990; Stewart, et al., 2006).
Such research has yielded important information about the nature and contexts of criminal events. However, as Short (1998) laments, in microsocial studies of violence, situational characteristics are often the primary focus of analyses, to the exclusion of interactional processes. Unlike symbolic interactionist approaches, which recognise that 'situations are given meaning only through the subjective experiences of actors' (Birkbeck & LaFree, 1993, p. 119), most criminological research brings a behavioural focus to the investigation. In part, this is because the study of interactional processes 'does not submit easily to traditional 'variables' analysis' (Short, 1998, p. 10), which is the linchpin of mainstream research in the field.
Symbolic interactionism is particularly important for investigating the relationship between gender, intersecting inequalities and violence. Taken for granted ideologies about gender are profoundly embedded in social life, and are fundamental interpretive frameworks girls and women, and boys and men bring to their daily lives. Moreover, these ideologies take on discrete forms across race, class, place and age, creating distinct social locations of inequality and providing variations in the available resources available for girls and women to navigate their daily lives. Research readily documents that it is through the enactment of these various gendered meaning systems that the most persistent, yet often invisible, facets of gender and gender inequality are reproduced (see Connell, 2002; Fenstermaker & West, 2002). The elucidation of the relationship between ideological features of gender and gendered practice, embedded within intersecting inequalities, is thus a key facet of feminist criminological research, offering important insight into the gendering of violence in discrete social locations.
This is why Daly (1998) calls for 'middle range' theoretical approaches, which seek to explore how broader structural forces are realised within particular social contexts and the microlevel interactions of social actors within these. Careful examination of gendered meaning systems and behavioural demands provides a means of understanding how gender frames criminal events, including the questions of how and when gender is most salient, and how it is shaped by the available resources and inequalities women face across social location (see Miller, 2002). Thus, feminist criminologists have also paid increasing attention to the importance of situation and context for understanding the intersections of gender, race, and class with crime and victimisation. Given the 'significant differences in the ways women experience society compared with men' across and within intersecting social locations (Daly, 1998, p. 98), research on violence that is embedded within context and situation allows scholars to ascertain the nuances of these relationships (see Kruttschnitt & Carbone-Lopez, 2006; Maher, 1997; Miller, 1998, 2001).
The Studies
To analyse the complex temporal, situational and interactional features of women's violent conflicts, in this article we examine three detailed case studies drawn from two previous investigations. These include an investigation of the proximate triggers for adolescent girls' violence against other young women (Miller & Mullins, 2006) and an examination of gender and retaliatory violence among adult offenders (Mullins, Wright, & Jacobs, 2004). Both investigations were based on samples drawn from a highly distressed urban African-American community characterised by intense racial segregation and social isolation; limited resources; disproportionate rates of poverty, unemployment and female-headed families; and high rates of crime (see Baybeck & Jones, 2004; Miller, 2008).
Within this context, a striking feature of girls' and women's accounts in both datasets was their depiction of conflicts as ongoing series of events that escalated over time; often involved multiple origins and triggers; typically were tied to their broader family, friendship, and/or criminal networks; and were shaped by the organisational contexts of school, family life and/or the streets. However, the scope of our earlier works did not provide the opportunity to examine these features of violent conflicts in this holistic manner.
To contextualise the analyses that follow, here we provide a brief overview of the key patterns that emerged in the previous investigations. In the first, we examined the array of proximate triggers for conflicts among urban adolescent girls, including 'he say/she say', style and reputational challenges and boyfriends (Miller & Mullins, 2006). Each was associated with girls' concerns about their place within social hierarchies. Conflicts resulting from 'he say/she say' were distinguished by their original occurrence behind an individual's back, and included several types of events, including spreading rumours, making up lies, telling 'your business', and name calling. Style and reputational challenges, on the other hand, were status challenges that originally occurred face-to-face. Style challenges concerned personal style, and involved comments or put-downs about girl's clothing or hair. Girls linked these to jealousy, and also described that a powerful means of disrespecting a young woman was to imply that her clothing or hairstyle was inexpensive, in poor taste, or not well tended to.
Reputational challenges were tied to girls' desires to project images of toughness and of the ability to stand up for themselves. These resulted in conflicts when young women read the actions of other girls as disrespectful, or were repeatedly provoked when their own actions were perceived as disrespectful by others. They involved a variety of potentially 'disrespectful' acts, including staring, eye rolling, making inappropriate comments, and generally 'getting an attitude'. Finally, an additional source of conflict for young women was their interactions with one another's boyfriends. Ostensibly, these were fights about maintaining the integrity of boyfriend/girlfriend relationships, but in fact they were much more complex events, very much tied to perceptions of disrespect and contests over girls' status hierarchies.
The second study was an investigation of the impact of gender on retaliation among adult offenders (Mullins, Wright, & Jacobs, 2004). Comparative analyses revealed that female-on-female conflicts were more likely than male-on-male conflicts to be resolved without the use of violence. In addition, unlike with men, violence among women rarely involved the use of a firearm, only occasionally involved other weapons, and often involved multiple participants including family, friends and street associates. In addition, women were far more likely than men to describe incidents that resulted from domestically-oriented disputes, in addition to or instead of street-based conflicts.
These variations allowed us to select case studies of violent conflict that typified important contextual distinctions that emerged within girls' and women's social locations in disadvantaged urban communities. Specifically, the three cases were selected to represent variations in the situational contexts and gendered life worlds of participants across the two investigations. They include a conflict among adolescent delinquent girls that carries over between school and neighbourhood settings; a conflict that emerged in the context of domestic concerns among a woman only peripherally involved in street networks through her associations with male family and friends; and street-based retaliatory violence tied to drug dealing and other criminal hustles. Our aim in this article is to explore how these three disputes emerged, intensified and evolved over time. Through close examination of temporal, situational and interactional facets, embedded in the context of urban inequalities, we examine how gender intersects with these contextual features to shape the nature of these violent conflicts.
Methodology
In this investigation, we analyse three cases of violent conflicts among one adolescent and two adult women. Case study research emphasises detailed contextual analysis of a limited number of events or conditions and their relationships. This approach is 'especially suitable for studying phenomena that are highly complex and/or embedded in their cultural context' (Verschuren, 2003, p. 137). Our analysis here includes both within-case analyses utilising process-tracing techniques, as well as analytic comparisons across cases. Process-tracing, which involves 'thick description of the sequence of events of a single case to identify the causal mechanisms at work in the sequence' (Harding, Fox, & Mehta, 2002, p. 182) is a particularly useful approach when 'temporal sequencing, particular events, and path dependence must be taken into account' (Mahoney, 1999, p. 1164). Analytic comparisons across cases allow for the examination of 'how different causal configurations can lead to the same outcome' (Harding, et al., 2002, p. 184), and strengthen analytic insight through the examination of continuities and discontinuities across contexts (see Sullivan, 2002; Verschuren, 2003).
Thus, our goal here is not merely to produce a narrative description of women's conflicts, but to examine: how they emerge and evolve over time; are embedded in immediate and ongoing situations, interactions, and relationships; and are interpreted and responded to through contextually specific meaning systems. In the process, we give careful consideration to gendered features of these phenomena, and how they are embedded within intersecting inequalities of race, class and age. This approach allows for both theoretical generation and refinement (see Harding et al., 2002), which is strengthened further through our strategic selection of cases, each with a similar outcome (i.e., a violent altercation between women) but embedded within distinct social contexts within social locations of urban disadvantage (see Verschuren, 2003).
Our three cases were drawn from qualitative in-depth interview data collected at approximately the same time from two separate projects in St Louis, Missouri. St Louis is a moderately sized Midwestern city, which is highly racially segregated, was hard hit by deindustrialisation and has experienced substantial White flight since the 1960s (see Baybeck & Jones, 2004). These forces have burdened neighbourhoods with conditions of concentrated poverty and disadvantage that isolate community members from formal resources, limit collective efficacy and thus encourage the use of self-help. As a consequence, such neighbourhoods are known to produce strong street-based social networks and elevated violence. In fact, St Louis has been a productive site for a number of ethnographically-inclined studies of crime and violence precisely because of the entrenched inequalities present in the city (see, e.g., Jacobs, 1999; Jacobs & Wright, 2006; Miller, 1998, 2001; Mullins, 2006; Wright & Decker, 1997). Although collected by different research teams, in different locations, and with different sampling strategies, both of the samples drawn from here were from the same sociogeographic region: African-American neighbourhoods in north St Louis characterised by significant concentrations of racial segregation and economic disadvantage.
In both cases, the interviews followed an open-ended protocol designed to elicit thick descriptions of the events of interest, with interviewers using follow-up probes in order to obtain a fuller depiction of the contexts in which conflicts and/or violence emerged, situational and interactional features of the events (for instance, what happened, where it happened, who else was present and the role they played), as well as proximate and distant motivations and the interpretive meanings research participants brought to these events and processes. These discussions were embedded, as well, in broader discussions of neighbourhood processes in interviewees' communities. Research participants were promised strict confidentiality and were provided economic remuneration for their participation. Interviews lasted from 1 to 2 hours, were audio-taped and transcribed verbatim (see Jacobs & Wright, 2006; and Miller (2008) for detailed descriptions of the research processes).
As noted, the three cases were selected to represent variations in the situational contexts and gendered life worlds of participants across the two investigations. Lisa was interviewed in a broader study of gender and adolescent violence in poor urban neighbourhoods. As a teenaged girl, Lisa occupied a social location that provides a notable distinction from the two adult women selected. Thus, her account of an ongoing series of conflicts provides a case in which age-specific concerns in adolescence and the organisational context of school are of particular relevance. (2) Pumpkin and Sugar were interviewed for a study of criminal retaliation in adult street-life social networks. The interview protocol in this study focused specifically on the use of violence as payback for perceived wrongdoings. Pumpkin reported tangential relations with criminal networks situated within her family relations, and her own involvement in offending was thin and episodic, confined primarily to marijuana use in the context of 'partying.' Moreover, she was steadily employed, and the primary economic provider for her family. Thus, she was selected for inclusion to illuminate the place and meanings that violence may hold for a woman living in a disadvantaged community context who is struggling to support her family and make ends meet, and is only peripherally involved with the street-life social networks prominent in her community. Sugar, on the other hand, was a deeply embedded offender. She reported engaging in a wide variety of violent, property and drug crimes with a high frequency. She was selected to examine how violent conflicts can emerge for the small portion of women who are deeply embedded in street-life and criminal networks in disadvantaged communities. Thus, Pumpkin and Sugar provide a useful comparison of violent conflicts among adult women--one embedded in domestic concerns, and the other in the 'code' of the streets.
Utilising in-depth interviews to understand the sequences of violence comes with specific strengths and limitations. Interviews, by their nature, provide retrospective accounts of events in which the author of the story frames and refines her own interpretation of what happened, how, and why. Had we been able to interview the other party to each dispute, they would likely have framed the events differently. Moreover, direct observation--a rare approach to the study of violence for criminologists of any methodological persuasion--would have yielded a still different set of data.
The accounts we draw from here provide us with tools for understanding the nature and meaning of violence from the points of view of the three research participants. This approach is best able to capture the 'the subjective experiences of actors' at the heart of symbolic interactionism (Birkbeck & LaFree, 1993, p. 119). Rigorous examination of such accounts offers a means of 'arriving at meanings or culturally embedded explanations [for behaviour, because they] represent the ways in which people organize views of themselves, of others, and of their social worlds' (Orbuch, 1997, p. 455). We suggest that such accounts can provide two intertwined sets of findings: evidence of the nature of Lisa's, Pumpkin's and Sugar's conflicts, including the contexts and situations in which they emerged; as well as insights into the cultural frames that each used to make sense of these events (see Miller & Glassner, 2004). Combined, these provide an important basis for developing theoretical insights into the place of such violence in girls' and women's lives in disadvantaged urban settings. Our use of case study methods precludes generalisation, but offers important insights for theory-building and refinement concerning the situational and interactional features of violence.
The Cases
Here we draw from three case studies from two research projects to trace some of the gendered contours of girls' and women's conflicts in contexts of urban disadvantage. As noted, a striking feature of such disputes was research participants' descriptions of them as ongoing series of interactions that had the potential to both ebb and escalate over time. In each case examined here, the dispute resulted in a violent altercation. Yet, each took a different path to that outcome, as a result of the specific contexts and relationships in which it was embedded. Moreover, these incidents were not settled once and for all when a violent incident occurred. Instead, each was ongoing in some capacity, with the potential for continued verbal altercations as well as renewed violence. Our goal here is to examine and compare how these disputes evolved over time and were embedded in broader gendered contexts within a disadvantaged urban community that included relationships with family, friends, and associates across the organisational settings of school, family and the streets. Here, we describe Lisa's, Pumpkin's and Sugar's accounts of why the conflicts emerged, how sustained conflicts continued without violent altercation, and the circumstances that culminated in violence.
Lisa's Account
Lisa was 17 years old when we interviewed her, and attended an alternative high school in St Louis for youths expelled from mainstream schools. She said her expulsion was the result of numerous conflicts with young women at her old school, and reported involvement in serious delinquency, primarily in the form of assaults. Nonetheless, speaking in general terms, she noted, 'you can argue all [the] way up to 3 or 4 months before a fight break out. Sometimes it be a year before a fight break out'. She characterised girls' conflicts, including her own, as ongoing and routine, in which tensions remained high for months and were slow to escalate into a violent altercation.
To further examine this process, we draw here from Lisa's detailed description of her longstanding feud with her boyfriend's neighbour Regina and Regina's best friend Shantay. The feud began in 'the summertime' when Lisa began dating her current boyfriend. She said the girls in his neighbourhood, including Regina, 'don't like me ... they be trying to jump on me or whatever'. She also complained that they talked badly about her to her boyfriend: 'They told him I think I'm all that, and they want to show me that I'm not all that'. The conflict began when Lisa interpreted Regina's interactions with her boyfriend as disrespectful. She explained: |
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See, he stay two doors down from [Regina] ... She like, gon' be mad because I told her that that's disrespectful how she be tryin' to play with [my boyfriend] in my face ... She gon' say, 'When he had his other girlfriend, she wasn't like that [i.e., she didn't mind Regina's interactions with him]'. So I said, 'Well, I'm not his other girlfriend, and I'm not fina [going to] let you disrespect me like that'.
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Lisa was particularly angered when Regina and her friends 'try to get [my boyfriend] to go ride with them or whatever'. Their ongoing feud culminated in a loud argument when the girls came to Lisa's house. She explained: |
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She talkin' 'bout some, 'come here Lisa'. I said, 'No, you come here'. She comes over there, 'you told this and this and this'. 'Naw.' She said, 'What did you say?' I said, 'What did you say?' She talkin' 'bout, "You told such and such this and this'. I said, 'No, I didn't tell nobody nothin'. I said, 'If you wanna know something', I said, 'you come ask me right. You don't come to me like that'. I said that 'you not fina be disrespectin' my house. You not fina come in front of my house blowin' [the horn] for [my boyfriend] like that. You not fina come knockin' on my door for him when he in here with me'. That's what I said. So she talkin' 'bout some, 'Yeah, alright, yeah alright'.
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At some point during this altercation, Lisa's older sister intervened and tried to get Lisa and her younger sister to 'go'on in the house. I'm like, 'we ain't got to go in no house! 'Cause we was sittin' on the porch before they came and we gon' sit out here 'til after they leave. You ain't gotta go nowhere, they ain't scarin' nobody'. Regina and her friends eventually left, but Lisa said that |
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for like a long time, about two months straight, they'll come down there everyday, twin' to jump on me. And I was still sittin' outside and they ain't touch me, not one time. I'm sittin' outside ignorin' 'em, laughin' or whatever.
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Several features are notable in Lisa's account. First, it is clear that Lisa's concerns about Regina's disrespectful treatment of her vis-a-vis her boyfriend were embedded within other facets of conflict--reputational challenges (e.g., 'they want to show me I'm not all that',), as well as accusations of 'he say/she say', and more general status contests over who was expected to approach whom and how in a conversation. Her description is suggestive of adolescent hierarchies among girls, and the means by which boyfriends could be used to symbolically disrespect other girls. Such status hierarchies are common among adolescent girls across social settings (see Simon, Eder, & Evens, 1992). However, there is evidence they are heightened in disadvantaged urban communities, where behavioural expectations emphasise the importance of reputation and respect for youths, including girls, given the relative absence of alternate opportunities for status (Jones, 2004; Miller & Mullins, 2006). Second, it is also apparent that these layered interactional challenges played out over time, and were less about the enactment of violence than the appearance of being willing to use violence. In this last way, Lisa's dispute with Regina appeared to diverge from what research suggests about conflicts among boys, which are more likely to involve violence, including serious violence (see Steffensmeier et al., 2005). Eventually, the conflict turned violent. Regina again heard that Lisa had said something about her. Lisa denied it, but 'she and her sisters came down there ... [and] wanna ... fight me anyway'. She explained: |
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So my boyfriend, it just so happened [that he was there]. If they was gon' come across the street, my boyfriend was gon' get out the car. So everybody was like, it was just gon' be a one-on-one fight. So I came out and she swung on me, got to beatin' her up. [Then[ her sister got mad, came throwin' bricks at me. And then my boyfriend jumps in it or whatever ... [We] fell somehow, I don't know, I tripped over his feet or something, and we fell and she came kickin' me in my face. And then when I got up, he like, 'Go'on in the house'. He kept pushin' me in the house, 'Go'on in the house, go'on in the house'. So she threw the brick at me and it hit me in the arm. Had my whole arm swoll[en] and stuff.
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Lisa's description of the immediate incident is in keeping with situational investigations of the stages of violent disputes: Regina first named her grievance with Lisa (the result of 'he say/she say'), followed by Lisa's denial and thus her refusal of Regina's claim for reparation. This was followed by their mutual decision to use force to settle the dispute. Moreover, her account demonstrates the well-documented role of third parties in escalating and diffusing violent events (Baron, et al., 2001; Deibert & Meithe, 2003; Felson & Steadman, 1983). The event participants and bystanders originally determined that it was to be a fair fight--'one-on-one'. However, when it appeared Lisa was getting the best of Regina, Regina's sister stepped in; when Lisa was thus outnumbered, her boyfriend both joined the fight and diffused it by pushing Lisa into the house. Nonetheless, it is clear as well that this incident was embedded in a much more longstanding set of relationships and tensions that a focus on the immediate event can uncover.
Lisa's conflict with Regina's best friend Shantay began not from a personal dispute, but from both young women's ties to and disputes with other youths, including Regina and Lisa's boyfriend. In addition to her friendship with Regina, which resulted in her alignment against Lisa after their fights, Shantay attended the same alternative high school as Lisa and was actually placed there before Lisa was. Lisa explained that 'when my boyfriend told her I was comin' up here [to the school] ... she [told him] she was gon' beat me up'. However, Lisa said Shantay hadn't anticipated that Lisa had friends at the school already, so when |
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... she heard everybody saying 'What's up Lisa?' ... givin' me hugs and whatever ... she came to me and she was tryin' to talk to me. But ... I wasn't even feelin' her like that, 'cause I ain't feelin' nobody that try to come down there and fight me.
Started talkin' about [me]. I guess she thought we was gon' try to jump on her, but we don't even get down like that ... we don't even got time for that, 'cause all my friends are older. And so [that's when] she like, start tellin' me ... tryin' to throw me off by talkin' [to] me about my boyfriend, talkin' 'bout my boyfriend all up in her face and stuff, which I know is a lie.
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Thus, it appears that Shantay, originally believing that her own friendship networks at the school would give her the upper hand in her interactions with Lisa, discovered instead that Lisa was well connected at the school on her arrival. According to Lisa, this led Shantay to shift her tactics from threatening to beat her up (in which case, Lisa's would have evident backup from her friends) to taunting her instead about her boyfriend2 Lisa continued: |
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They try to say I'm fightin' over him. Why am I fightin' over him for, and I got him? Then just like, [Shantay] be tellin' me, 'He come over to my house, he do this and he do that [with me]'. I don't care. 'Cause he always up in my face every day, he give me what I want, take me where I need to go, he let me [take his] car and I can go do whatever I wanna do ... So I don't care. I don't wanna hear what he doin' ... All of ... the stuff that she come back and tell me ... is irrelevant ... I know that's a lie, 'cause he always at my house ... I know he there, so I don't even have to worry about it.
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In fact, Lisa's confidence that Shantay's stories were lies was not as strong as she tried to suggest. She had a black eye the day she was interviewed that was a result of a fight she started with her boyfriend the previous week. It began when she accused him of cheating on her with Shantay: |
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I got this [black eye] 'cause [pause] I didn't come to school Wednesday so Thursday when I came to school, [Shantay] tellin' me that my boyfriend be comin' over to they house, this, this, this and that. So me bein' stupid, knowing the girl didn't like me anyway I shouldn't have listened to her. Me bein' stupid, went home tryin' to fight him. He blockin' the punches or whatever like, 'Go'n, get off of me, go'n, stop, stop'. He kept on tellin' me to stop, stop, go'n, go'n. So I'm steady hittin' him, steady hittin' him. I had on some sandals, I'm hittin' him with the sandals. I run outside, I'm hittin' him, I'm hittin' his car or whatever and so he said something to me as he was closin' his door and I punched him in his eye and he pushed the car up in park, he got out the car and smacked me and got back in the car and left. He just kept ridin' up and down my street all day ... He kept on comin' back and then my momma talkin' 'bout I'm not suppose to listen to what other girls tell me about my boyfriend. And [my boyfriend] was like, 'She was just tellin' you that to throw you off, 'cause all y'all was up there. She thought all y'all was gon' jump on her'.
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Shantay's claim that Lisa's boyfriend was cheating on her with Shantay and other neighbourhood girls is again indicative of the power such an accusation had as a status challenge. It functioned to undermine Lisa's power vis-a-vis Shantay and to destabilise her relationship with her boyfriend (see Miller & Mullins, 2006). Lisa's boyfriend recognised the power of this claim to 'throw [her] off'. (4) It had particular resonance for Lisa in the context of adolescent relationships in disadvantaged neighbourhoods precisely because young men receive status rewards in male peer groups for behaving like 'playa's'--having sex with multiple girls and eschewing emotional attachments (5) (see Anderson, 1999; Miller & White, 2003). Yet again, the conflict remained ongoing. The day after Lisa's fight with her boyfriend, they came across Shantay at the bus stop when he picked Lisa up from school. She explained: |
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She at the bus stop [so] we goes up to her [and my boyfriend] fronted her out or whatever. And she like [telling him] she didn't say all that [about him cheating with her]. But she did say it. So he tellin' me to beat her ... I'm like, I'm not fina [going to[ beat her up 'cause we right ... across the street from the school and they gon' lock us up. And then we can still get put outta school, 'cause we still on the school premises.
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Lisa felt reassured when she and her boyfriend confronted Shantay, she denied saying he had cheated, and by implication, denied that he had been unfaithful. From now on, Lisa insisted, 'I won't believe ... the stuff that she say ... anymore'. One final facet of this altercation is notable. Despite her boyfriend's encouragement and the likelihood she would succeed since she had backup present, Lisa opted out of a physical altercation, using her proximity to the school as justification. In fact, in our broader investigation, we found that the school setting often functioned to contain girls' conflicts. Young women knew that fights in and around the school were likely to be broken up by teachers or security guards, and that sanctions would follow. (6) Lisa said when she refused to fight Shantay, 'she threatened to come over to my house ... She talkin' 'bout, she know where I stay. But she didn't come over on the weekend'.
Thus the school setting allowed girls to make threats against one another, but with the caveat that they could use the school--and their desire to stay out of trouble--as a face-saving means of avoiding violence. Our interview with Lisa took place just days after the Friday afternoon confrontation. We cannot say what happened after the interview. But it is notable that Lisa suggested most girls preferred not to get into physical altercations, except when circumstances necessitated it: |
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Listen. The only way a fight gon' break out [is] if you arguin' with this girl and a student step in the middle of the fight, and that's really gon' make the girl amped ... you gon' keep on goin' on, louder and louder ... 'cause they gon' think, 'Well, hey. She holdin' her back, and she holdin' me back. So I'm gon' get amped, 'cause I know we ain't gon' fight anyway'. [The problem is] if the student move, then it's gon' be a fight. But they only get real amped if a teacher come [so] you can show these people that you tough [knowing the teacher will disrupt the conflict before it turns violent].
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Pumpkin's Account Pumpkin was 22 years old when she was interviewed, had two children and was steadily employed. She described her own criminal involvement as minimal, aside from recreational marijuana use and occasional fights. A number of her male relatives and friends, however, were criminally involved. Asked whether she had ever retaliated against someone who had done her some wrong, Pumpkin said, 'I just got my brother's girlfriend. 'Cause they staying with me. I had told her on several occasions--constantly--'Don't call the police to my house'. I don't like the police, I don't want them in my house, I don't want them nowhere near me'. Asked why her brother's girlfriend had called the police, she explained: |
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He found out that she was having an affair with somebody else and he got all upset about it. But he didn't hit her. 'Cause I told him, 'Don't hit her, don't put your hands on her. 'Cause I don't need the police to my house'. I told him that. So he didn't put his hands on her. But she knew that I didn't want the police at my house. I had told her on several occasions. 'Cause my brother done kicked her ass a couple of times ... She called the police anyway. So me and my cousin whipped her ass like two days ago. That's why I got all these broke nails here.
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Though Pumpkin admitted that her brother was physically abusive, she routinely forbade his girlfriend from calling the police. She also said that her brother routinely tried to draw her into their conflicts, telling his girlfriend, '"You better shut the fuck up talking to me like that, or I'll get my sister [to] kick your ass" ... But I wasn't gonna get in nobody's problems that wasn't mine'. Her comments are indicative of the nonintervention norms prevalent in disadvantaged urban communities--heightened further by definitions of domestic disputes as private matters (see Benson et al., 2003)--as well as the entrenched distrust of the police often found in such settings across gender (see Brunson & Miller, 2006; Sampson & Bartusch 1998). The immediate incident that resulted in Pumpkin's violent retaliation was one she felt was her problem. She was particularly angry because she believed his girlfriend called the police out of spite and did so without concern for the wellbeing of Pumpkin and her children: |
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I just felt like she disrespected me when she brought the police to my house when I asked her not to. Now, if he would have kicked her ass and she called the police, I still would have been upset, but I would have understood ... But she called the police just 'cause she was mad, just 'cause he put her out. And I asked her [not to]. I live in Section 8 housing, and all I need is for the police to keep coming to my house. And [then] me and my kids are in the same predicament that she is--homeless. I can't have that, I can't have that.
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The conversation continued: Interviewer: So the police come to your house so many times, they kick you out?
Pumpkin: Yeah. Oh yeah. They don't play that.
Interviewer: So that's why you got so mad?
Pumpkin: Damn right! Me and my kids, that's our place to live. That's where we lay our heads. And her son is living there too with my brother. They have a kid together. ... Then my cousin and his girlfriend and they baby live with me too. 'Cause all of them are homeless ... I was just extremely upset because she called the police to my house ... That was it for me, because like I said, if Section 8 decide that I'm causing too much trouble, then I'm in the same position that she is ... I got to make sure [my kids] got a place to lay they head.
Clearly, the stakes were higher for Pumpkin than a mere dislike of the woman or runof-the-mill reputational challenge. Given the often capricious and punitive nature of public assistance programs, particularly in their application to poor women of colour (see Hays, 2004), Pumpkin's anger was a response to what she recognised as the substantial threat to her children's wellbeing that could result from police interventions. In fact, Pumpkin herself was nearly arrested when the police arrived. Her brother had warrants out for his arrest, and in order to protect him, she attempted to keep them from searching the house to find him. She explained: |
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They threatened to lock me up because they said that I was, what is it, harboring a fugitive ... When they came to the door the first time, they said, 'We had a call for an assault, and we need to know if this certain person is here'. I said, 'I don't know if he's in here'. They said, 'Is this your house?' I said yes. So they said, 'Can we search your house?' I'm like, 'Don't you supposed to have a search warrant to do that?' And they was like, 'Well, this is an assault call, so we don't need a search warrant'. And I didn't know if that was right or if it was wrong. All I know is I got warned, and I wasn't gonna argue with them too much ... I didn't want to cooperate but I didn't have a choice. So I let them in, they searched my house.
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Pumpkin's brother had outstanding warrants. She said he 'knew they was after him, and he definitely don't want to go back to jail', so he gave the police a false name when they questioned him. The police then 'left out of the house, and then here [his girlfriend] come walking up, and she said, "oh hell no! He's in there!'" Pumpkin continued: |
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So [the police] came back to my door and knocked. They said, 'We need those two guys to come out here'. And then when they took them outside, she said, 'It's that one right there'. The whole time I'm standing in the door, I'm like, 'I'm gonna kill this bitch! I'm gonna kill her!' I was mad, I was heated. I was ready to kick her ass right there in front of the police but I couldn't do that. They knew she was lying. She wasn't hurt, she wasn't crying, there wasn't a string of her hair on her head out of place.
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Thus, Pumpkin was angry enough during the incident to use violence against her brother's girlfriend. Only the presence of the police, and the woman's decision to leave when they did, saved her from an immediate assault. In this case, it was the presence of a particular sort of third party--a formal authority figure with the means of sanctioning Pumpkin's violence--that delayed, but did not deter, her decision to use retaliatory violence. (7) When probed, Pumpkin conceded that her brother had 'thumped her upside her head' that night, but she insisted that his girlfriend called the police because 'she was just mad because he put her out and she didn't have nowhere to go'. She explained: |
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When we picked her up from work, he asked her, had she been having sex with this guy? Of course she denied it. And so he told her, 'You need to leave'. And she said, 'Well I'm not leaving'. Until I told her she had to leave. I said, 'I'm not gonna make you leave, but you know how ignorant my brother is, and if you don't want him to kick ... your ass, then maybe you should leave'. So she packed her little shit up and she left. When she realised that she didn't have nowhere to go and she was mad, [that's when] she called the police.
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In addition to describing her brother and his girlfriend's relationship as volatile, Pumpkin also said she herself was routinely unhappy with his girlfriend's behaviour around her home. This particular incident was thus the immediate trigger she believed justified retaliatory violence, though she admitted, 'I wanted to kick her ass anyway. I just needed a reason'. She explained: |
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She was trashing me, she would not clean my house up. Every time I would go to work and come home, she would have sat her funky ass down on the couch where she was at when I left. The kids running around in nasty diapers ... She didn't help me, she didn't give me no money on my bills. I mean, my bills are my bills and I'm gonna have to pay them regardless of if I've got somebody living with me or not. But if you grown and you working and I'm taking care of you and your kids, you gonna help me. ... I mean, she was tolerable. Tolerable because she was my brother's girlfriend. She stayed at my house and we got along as well as we needed to be living in the same house. But she done pissed me off many times before that. She done hurt my brother. She got my brother locked up that night, and she got him locked up once before that. He had to spend Christmas and everything in jail because she got him locked up.
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When the incident with the police happened, Pumpkin 'told her [brother's girlfriend] that she can't come back to my house'. And she was glad the woman left at the same time the police did, 'because I would have been in jail [too] ... I knew she would have called them back [if I attacked her that night], and I'm surprised she didn't call them back when we whupped her ass, when we finally did'. Pumpkin became even angrier the next night. After bailing her brother out of jail, to her surprise the police returned a second time. She was sure the call had been placed by her brother's girlfriend, and because: |
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She didn't know that my brother was out of jail, that means she wasn't only fucking with him ... My house ain't just a rowdy place or no dope house or nothing like that, but she knows that my house is the place to be ... So we was in my house, we smoking weed and getting drunk and I just got a house full of people, and here come the police knocking on my door ... And the police never come to my house, because I don't give them a reason to come to my house. For them to come two nights in a row ... I knew that it was her. I didn't have no choice but to kick her ass. I bet she won't call the police no more.
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From the time these incidents happened, Pumpkin began keeping an eye out for her brother's girlfriend. Her decision to retaliate with violence was cemented, though she did not feel compelled to do so immediately. She didn't make a concerted effort to search for her, "cause I knew I would see her again, her son lives at my house'. Though the woman 'left for a while, for a couple of days and went I guess to her aunt's house ... she came back to the complex and was staying with one of my neighbors'. Nonetheless, Pumpkin believed the woman was avoiding her, "cause when I caught her [she was] coming back from the store, and she was going the long way around ... She could have come my way and it would have been quicker'. When Pumpkin spotted her, |
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I was in my car and I was coming out of the complex ... Me and my cousin was in the car. And so I saw her, but I drove past her and went and parked my car ... down the street ... and I walked back up there.
When I walked up behind her, she didn't know I was behind her. And my cousin just grabbed her hair and I just started hitting her ... and I didn't leave her alone until she was bloody ... [My cousin] grabbed her and then I hit her, and then we both hit her. We just kept hitting her and she fell on the ground. She was kicking. She was on her back, but she was kicking. But it was two of us. Wasn't nothing she could do. We just beat her up.
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Pumpkin said that during the altercation, she told her brother's girlfriend, 'Bitch, didn't I tell you not to call the police to my house? Now I'm gonna kick your ass for all the times I been wanting to kick your ass in the past!' Asked how she felt while beating her up, Pumpkin said 'I had an adrenaline rush', and felt: |
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Like I was the shit. Like I was in control. Like I could get her ass back for every time she ever made me mad, every time she ever made my son cry, every time she ever pissed my brother off, every time she ever hurt my brother's feelings, every time she would hit her own son the way that I didn't like it. 'Cause she would punch him in the chest. He's 2 [years old, and she would] slap him on his back. And I would tell her ass all the time, 'Don't hit him like that, don't hit him like that, he's a baby!' [She would say,] 'Well this is my son'. 'I don't give a damn, you hit him like that again I'm gonna kick your ass.'
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In addition, though neighbourhood residents were present, no one intervened on the beating. Instead, Pumpkin said |
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... they was watching the fight. I mean, she don't really have a lot of friends over there. I mean, she don't have a lot of enemies, but she don't really have no friends. And ain't nobody just gonna come and jump in a fight unless it's they friend, they partner, or somebody like that.
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Moreover, she said 'people knew that I was mad, people knew that I was pissed. The people that knew her and knew me knew that whenever I saw her I was going to kick her ass'. As Pumpkin's comments illustrate, some third parties--like her cousin--could be relied on to provide backup for kith and kin. Pumpkin was successful in beating up her brother's girlfriend precisely because 'it was two of us' against one. At the same time, her confidence that other witnesses would not intervene against her came from the general tendency in disadvantaged neighbourhoods to avoid calling the police or otherwise intervening on disputes. But it was also rooted in more personal knowledge that the neighbours knew her and recognised the perceived legitimacy of her retaliatory actions. As with Lisa's violent altercation with Regina, there is evidence in Pumpkin's account to support the general situational stages of violence identified by past research. It is also clear, though, that the temporal sequencing of the stages was protracted rather than immediate, and that the stages themselves were also not temporally distinct. For example, Pumpkin's use of violence occurred simultaneous with her claims of a litany of injuries both recent and longstanding. Moreover, her subjective interpretation of the incident--the moral 'high' she obtained from her violence--is as important for understanding the nature of the event as the behavioural sequence itself. In fact, she explained, |
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I usually try to be a lot more ladylike about the way I handle things, I just felt like I had to kick her ass ... I mean, I never felt like two wrongs make a right, but at the same time, I'm not gonna keep on letting nobody luck with me.
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Ultimately, she found the experience a cathartic one: 'I knew that I got my point across, so I was satisfied. I don't want to fight with her no more. I wasn't even mad no more'. Sugar's Account
While Pumpkin was only peripherally connected to offender networks through her male kin and friends, Sugar described herself as an active offender who supported herself and her two children by selling drugs and 'hustling'. She was 26 years old when she was interviewed. The retaliatory violence Sugar spoke of was directly connected to her participation in street crime. She believed it was likely to be ongoing, and remained unresolved, explaining: 'This bitch I know named Chi-Chi, me and her, we're into it'.
The violence began about a month prior to Sugar's interview, when Chi-Chi and an accomplice robbed her. She explained, |
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Chi-Chi and her partner caught me over at my friend's house one night, about 12, 1 o'clock in the morning, straight robbed me. Robbed, took my motherfucking ID, took all my motherfucking money and everything ... took my weed ... and took my motherfucking food stamp card.
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Asked to describe how it happened, Sugar continued: |
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I was outside. She seen me ... She was on this side of the street and her friend was on [the other] side of the street, and was running down the street ... They was like down running on the side of the cars 'til they reached me ... When they came close to me, they came together ... That's when they rushed up on me, because I didn't see them coming ... My partner, who was supposed to be my partner, the bitch ran on me. So it left me there [alone], and they kind of, we got into a [fight]. I got a little bruise, a bump, my lip busted, whatever, [and] they robbed me ... We was rumbling and fighting and stuff like that, and I was determined to see who it was ... She had this scarf going across her face ... and I got a chance to snatch it off her face. So that's how I knew who it was.
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In fact, Sugar said the conflict actually began earlier than the robbery: |
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You see, she used to come and buy weed from me every now and then. She used to be trying to get over on me too ... We already had words with each other ... She had told me she was gonna get me, 'cause she heard [that] I got money, got niggas, and got all that shit ... This bitch was hating on me, you know, because I was [taking] in a little money and she wanted a part of it ... she know I had a little pocket full of money ... because she know I sling.
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Thus, Sugar interpreted Chi-Chi's initial attack on her as not simply the product of an opportunistic robbery. Instead, she believed Chi-Chi was jealous of her success as a drug dealer and of the status rewards that came with that success. Again, this suggests a protracted temporal sequence in the stages of the assault. In addition, Sugar's description indicates variations in the roles that third parties could take. Sugar's 'supposed' partner chose to exit rather than stay and help Sugar defend herself. On the other hand, like Pumpkin's cousin, Chi-Chi's partner was a reliable co-conspirator in Sugar's assault. But because Sugar attributed the motive for the attack as emanating from Chi-Chi, it was Chi-Chi, not her partner, whom Sugar was 'into it' with. Sugar purposely waited before attempting to retaliate: 'What I did--I ain't gonna go get them the next day--I waited a week and let it die down ... so she could think that she got me and I wasn't gonna come back on her'. Asked why, she explained: |
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'Cause that's how you do on the street ... You know, 'cause see, a motherfucker whooped your ass and robbed you, they gonna know off the top that you gonna try to come back. They gonna have something waiting for you, you know what I'm saying. So you never know what they have waiting for you. They might have something powerful that'd fuck you up and it might backfire on you. So that's why you let days and shit go past before you do your thing ... You know, they're gonna forget about it or never trip off of it eventually.
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Thus, the temporal sequences Sugar described, like Lisa's and Pumpkin's, were protracted. However, the reasons were distinct to the context of adult street offender networks. Lisa's conflicts with Regina and Shantay were ongoing as a consequence of their adolescent status contests, where violence was peripheral but occasionally unavoidable. Pumpkin delayed because she knew, eventually, her brother's girlfriend would re-enter her child's and thus her life. In contrast, Sugar's delay was grounded in the rules of street retaliation: she described waiting in order for Chi-Chi's defences to drop, to ensure that she would be caught off guard. About a week later, Sugar 'was riding with my partners and we was listening to music. We drove past and I just happened to glance and look back and I seen her. It was like 8 or 9 o'clock. She was waiting on the bus'. Sugar and her friends pulled back around and parked near the bus stop to 'keep an eye on her, where she's going. ... So she got on a bus and we kind of followed the bus all the way down to [near where she lived]'. Once they saw Chi-Chi exit: |
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She started walking to her home. And I told my partner to let me out on the corner. So I walked around the corner. I was on one side and she was still walking ahead of me. She didn't know I was coming. So I kind of like picked up my speed [and] ran up on her. I had a bottle and I hit the bitch in the back of the head. She fell and turned over. I held my pocket knife up to her motherfucking neck. I told her to give me my shit back right now, and then my partner parked her car and she had her knife ... So we had the bitch by her arm, and we told her to take us to her house, where she was going to give my shit back.
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Asked whether she wasn't concerned that others could be inside the house, Sugar noted, 'Shit, I didn't give a fuck really, to tell you the truth. I wanted my shit back'. In addition, unlike Chi-Chi's robbery of Sugar, Sugar 'didn't have my scarf. I let the bitch see my face: "You remember me, bitch? When you took my stuff?"' This was important, she noted, because otherwise, |
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... anybody can just walk up and take my shit. Come and punch me and take my dope and take my motherfucking weed, they'll think I ain't shit, [that] I ain't standing up on mine ... And I ain't going for that. I stood out there and worked for that shit, and not them.'
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Once Sugar and her partner got to Chi-Chi's house, they took many of her valuables, including her cash and drugs. Sugar continued, |
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I know the bitch got something because she over there slinging too ... She had these big rings on--big diamonds. We took them. She had this nice little chain that come down to her chest, we took that too. We took her earrings. We took every motherfucking thing ... I took her beeper back 'cause she took mine [but] I didn't fuck [with] her ID 'cause I didn't need all that shit. All I wanted was the cash and [drugs] that she had ... Whooped her ass and then left her there.
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Sugar insisted that the point she was trying to make was that 'I ain't the bitch to play with'. In addition, Sugar and her partner gave Chi-Chi a much more severe beating than she herself had sustained. She justified this as part and parcel of street retaliation: |
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I love retaliation. I love to see the motherfuckers done like they did me. But this time, when you get they ass, give them harder than what they gave you. Sometimes it will make the motherfucker think twice not to fuck with you no more. Or motherfuckers try to be tough and try to come back on you.
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In Chi-Chi's case, Sugar believed it was probably just a matter of time before she counter-retaliated. Asked whether she felt a sense of closure after the attack on Chi-Chi, she explained: |
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No, 'cause I knew she was gonna come back ... This little bitch here, she wanna be hard and shit like that. She think she shit. She might try to come back because she probably don't want to feel like she a punk or something. So I know the bitch coming. But I'm waiting on her ... She might be getting well and trying to calm down and get on me ... She is gonna come. I mean, if that was me and somebody beat me down like that, damn right I'll go back and I'll go back harder this time and have a pistol.
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Thus, in response to what she believed was an impending attack, Sugar said she began carrying a gun: 'If she gonna get me, I'm gonna get her back. We got to die someday ... I'm gonna pull my motherfucking gun out as soon as I see her'. Sugar's clear belief was that the fight was not over, and that the next encounter would have more serious consequences than the last. Discussion
Our case analyses highlight distinct temporal dynamics and paths for the escalation of girls' and women's disputes into violence, tied to the situational contexts and settings of these events, the relationships between conflict participants and others and the embeddedness of these ongoing interactions in the context of urban disadvantaged neighbourhoods. The first, seen in Sugar's account, has been identified by other scholars who study street-based offending: criminal retaliation (Anderson, 1999; Jacobs & Wright, 2006; Kubrin & Weitzer, 2003; Topalli, et al., 2002). Sugar's dispute with Chi-Chi was a product of frequent neighbourhood interactions characterised by competition associated with their drug dealing and the general tension that tends to exist between people in street-based offender networks. Animosity was produced and reinforced by direct and indirect verbal exchanges over time, and culminated with Sugar's drug robbery victimisation. Further evolution of the dispute followed the typical pattern identified in the literature on retaliation, and followed the demands of intense participation in street life in disadvantaged settings. Sugar waited for an opportune time to exact payback, after which she was biding her time in preparation for Chi-Chi's expected counter-retaliation.
Studies of street offending and offender networks show that while women are far less likely to become deeply embedded in criminal subcultures, those that do may also internalise the violent behavioural demands of this social context (see Jacobs & Wright, 2006; Kruttschnitt & Carbone-Lopez, 2006; Miller, 1998; but see Maher, 1997; Miller, 2001). Not surprisingly, many facets of Sugar's account parallel those of male street offenders, who often describe waiting to get the drop on their victimiser/victim to be (see Jacobs & Wright, 2006; Mullins, 2006; Topalli et al., 2002). While street norms emphasise that slights must be responded to, doing so immediately can be hazardous, particularly since retaliation is anticipated. In addition, Sugar's account also exhibits the modal form seen in men's descriptions of retaliation: incidents escalate in their severity, and can culminate in potential lethality. When Sugar exacted payback, she purposefully did more harm to Chi-Chi than was done to her, as a message not just to her victimiser but to other potential street robbers. Sugar described having since procured a firearm, readying herself for the attack she believed was likely imminent. Thus, the fit of Sugar's account with patterns identified in previous research on offender networks suggests that the protracted temporal sequences we identify here are not unique to women: situational studies that focus only on the immediate event miss important contextual and interactional features of violence.
On the other hand, Sugar's account also highlights important gender variations uncovered in Mullins et al.'s (2004) original investigation and other research on street violence among women. Chi-Chi's initial robbery of Sugar involved multiple female assailants who did not use a firearm or other weapon to ensure Sugar's compliance. This was the most common woman-initiated form uncovered in Miller's (1998) study of gender and the accomplishment of street robbery. She found that women routinely used violence when robbing other women, frequently did so with female accomplices and rarely with weapons. Often this was because they believed their female targets were themselves unlikely to be armed.
Sugar's retaliation followed a similar, though escalated, pattern. When she and her cousin accosted Chi-Chi, they used knives, but not guns, to subdue Chi-Chi and escort her to the site of their robbery and assault. Despite not using a firearm, Sugar nonetheless highlighted the importance of her retaliation against Chi-Chi for securing her own ongoing safety while working on the streets. Failure to retaliate, she insisted, would open her up for greater vulnerability among street participants likely to define her as weak and readily assailable. Such concerns might have been enhanced for her, as women involved in street networks already face such perceptions, especially in the eyes of street involved men (see Maher, 1997; Miller 1998; Mullins 2006; Steffensmeier & Terry, 1986). Thus, while the account suggests some gender neutral dynamics of payback, gendered elements clearly structured the series of events as well.
While Sugar's account was more in keeping with previous research on street-based violence, Lisa's and Pumpkin's accounts allowed us to examine important variations in the contexts of women's violence across age and social setting. The triggers for both disputes were more clearly gendered. In Lisa's case, they emerged from what she saw as status challenges from other girls, who she believed used their friendship and neighbourhood proximity to her boyfriend to taunt her and undermine her security in the relationship. Such challenges concerning boyfriends appear uniquely gendered, as attachments to males continue to be a central aspect of gendered reward systems for adolescent girls (Miller & Mullins, 2006; Simon, Eder, & Evans, 1992), linked to broader social expectations that women bear responsibility for maintaining romantic relationships (Cancain, 1986). In contrast, such fights among boys--especially in disadvantaged contexts where masculine identity is one of the few arenas available for social status--are defined as unmanly precisely because they prioritise emotional attachment to a particular girl (see Anderson, 1999; Miller & White, 2003).
At the same time, Lisa's ongoing conflicts with Regina and Shantay, embedded within the overlap of her boyfriend's neighbourhood and her school networks, involved additional facets of status challenges, including 'he say/she say', and other interactions read as disrespectful by each party. This suggests that--as with young men--issues of respect are central to girls' conflicts, and are grounded in the jockeying for position in girls' status hierarchies. That Lisa, Regina and Shantay appeared to have defined a broad range of direct and indirect interactions as disrespect is in keeping with research on adolescents' subcultural responses to these specific facets of status within disadvantaged communities (Baron et al., 2001).
Lisa's conflicts with these young women progressed and receded over time. She described arguments that were ongoing and routine but were slow to escalate to violent altercations. Her fight with Regina resulted after mounting frustrations from ongoing clashes coalesced with an immediate trigger--Regina heard that Lisa was badmouthing her and came to her house to confront her--and the situational opportunity for violence: Lisa's older sister was not present to diffuse Regina's challenge, as she had been during a previous confrontation, and both young women agreed to a fight as a means of resolving the dispute, at least temporarily. On the other hand, Lisa's ongoing arguments with Shantay had yet to escalate to violence between the two. Though Lisa had physically assaulted her boyfriend in response to Shantay's claim that he was cheating with her, (8) she opted not to fight Shantay when the opportunity presented itself and Shantay was clearly outnumbered. Lisa pointed to their proximity to school, and the trouble that could result, as one reason she chose to avoid violence. In addition, she felt sufficiently satisfied with the outcome of the argument--her boyfriend's confrontation of Shantay and her retraction of claims about his infidelity--without resorting to violence.
These patterns are suggestive that, compared to research on boys in similar social locations, for girls the use of violence is less important for challenging disrespect than the perceived willingness to do so (see also Miller & Mullins, 2006). Perhaps this is where the explanation for Lisa's particularly temporally protracted conflicts lies. However, without comparative data, it is not clear whether the escalation patterns Lisa described (which are in keeping with girls' accounts in the larger investigation), are specifically gendered, or appear to be so given the narrow, event-specific focus that situational analyses of violence typically employ. For example, it may be that there are important distinctions in the evolution of conflicts among known participants versus strangers. Since girls and women are more likely to participate in the former, the interactional sequences themselves may represent general patterns across gender for known disputant conflicts, whereas the patterns of disputant relationships themselves are indicative of gendered patterns. This is an important question for future research.
For Pumpkin, as well, the dispute we examined emerged from a socially defined feminine concern: maintaining the safety and integrity of her domestic space and children's wellbeing. (9) Like both Sugar and Lisa, she described ongoing tensions with a female disputant, in this case, her brother's girlfriend. However, the tensions emerged from their living arrangements: Pumpkin and her children lived in Section 8 housing, and also provided residence to her brother, his girlfriend and their son, and her cousin and his children. The living arrangements Pumpkin described were in keeping with well-documented patterns on the important role that extended family plays in helping family members cope with acute disadvantage, particularly in poor African--American communities (Stack, 1974). However, this takes place in the context of the ever-present threat of state interventions, which often define such adaptation strategies as both deviant and fraudulent (Hays, 2004).
Pumpkin described doing her best to get along in those circumstances, despite ongoing conflicts and violence between her brother and his girlfriend. The last straw, however, was when her brother's girlfriend called the police to her residence. She interpreted this action as imperilling not just her brother's wellbeing, but that of her and her children as well. As she repeatedly pointed out, she depended on Section 8 housing, a public assistance program that was revocable with repeated police contacts. Despite ongoing problems in the household, it was this specific threat that she felt necessitated a violent response.
Pumpkin's focus on taking care of kin is often seen as part and parcel of women's gender identities. In fact, she identified her brother's girlfriend's failure to act as a proper woman as an intensifying factor in the conflict. Pumpkin complained that she failed to take care of the children in the house, used inappropriate disciplinary measures and also refused to assist with other domestic responsibilities. In addition, the woman was accused of repeatedly being unfaithful to Pumpkin's brother. Pumpkin characterised the girlfriend's deviant femininity as providing the backdrop for the eventual violence. As such, this case serves as a strong example of women's enforcement of gender norm expectations. While she acknowledged that her brother was similarly unfaithful and was frequently violent towards his girlfriend, she downplayed and dismissed these factors, refusing to label them as problematic. In addition, during the interview, she never mentioned men in the household having domestic or childcare responsibilities. In fact, she believed her brother's girlfriend was unlikely to retaliate because she was looking after the woman's child. The implication was that her brother's actions were acceptable facets of masculine behavioural expectations, and that responsibility for both ongoing problems and the immediate altercation fell squarely on his girlfriend's shoulders. Such an account is indicative of a strongly patriarchal social structure that legitimates the behaviours of men and denigrates those of women.
In addition, Pumpkin specifically interjected gender into her account, noting that she typically tried 'to be more ladylike' [author's emphasis] in the way she dealt with conflicts. In recounting the story to the interviewer, she appeared to feel a tension between appropriate gender expectations and her use of violence. To resolve this, she contextualised her violence by framing it in terms of protecting her family. This gave moral weight to her behaviour that provided a situational contingency for her more general belief that she should be 'ladylike'. In comparison, neither Lisa's nor Sugar's narratives presented such tensions. Girls' fights are a more normative feature of adolescent than adult interactions in disadvantaged communities (see Jones, 2004), while Sugar's success as an active participant in male-dominated features street-life networks required her to abandon Pumpkin's specific concerns with femininity.
Conclusion
Over the last decades, criminological research has increasingly investigated the situational dynamics that surround violent events. This work has identified broader subcultural patterns that heighten the use of or need for violent response, and their roots in disadvantaged ecological contexts (Anderson, 1999; Baumer, et al., 2003; Bernard, 1990; Stewart, Schreck, & Simons, 2006). It has also highlighted the physical and social properties of settings that are productive of violence, including the location of the conflict, presence and behaviour of third parties, access to weapons and relationship between event participants, and has identified stages associated with the culmination of a dispute to violence (Baron, et al., 2001; Deibert & Meithe, 2003; Felson & Steadman, 1983; Luckenbill & Doyle, 1989).
Much of this research tends to remove the violent event from its broader interactional and relational contexts, and considers factors immediately relevant to the violent episode, but not what led up to or came after it. In addition to this temporal truncation, which is unable to explore the linked nature of ongoing events and interactions that produce violence, much research is purposely inattentive to the subjective meanings participants bring to their decision-making vis-a-vis violence, focusing only or primarily on quantifiable behavioural sequences.
While the insights to emerge from this research have been significant, such a narrow emphasis may in fact misspecify our understanding of criminal violence. Our research suggests that violence is better understood as the product of a long series of interactional sequences embedded in broader macro- and meso-social contexts. In each case examined here, disputants described gauging the social situation, deferring or avoiding violence, either altogether or until a more opportune time and highlighted the significance of emotionally charged states as sometime triggers. These were shaped by gendered meaning systems and their intersection with disadvantaged neighbourhood context, as well as the more immediate settings of the street, school, and households.
While some scholars suggest that personal affronts immediately produce a violent response, and are best characterised as character contests with discrete, immediate stages (see Anderson, 1999; Luckenbill, 1977), our analyses suggest that the evolution of violence is a much more complex and nuanced process, with important continuities and discontinuities across events (see also Sullivan, 2002). Even when motivated toward violence and provided with opportunity, violence is not a necessary conclusion. This challenges the depiction of violence as anonymous and/or spontaneous, a depiction that has emerged through a narrow focus on immediate incidents, exacerbated by scholars' inattention to gender, interaction, and embedded relationships.
Of course, there are important limitations to our focus on three cases. The case analysis methods we adopt here afford a contextual process-centred paradigm with significant theoretical import. This approach provides an opportunity for theory-building, but not theoretical evaluation (see Harding, et al., 2002). Future research will benefit from the process-tracing and comparative techniques adopted here, but with larger comparative samples of violent disputes embedded within their broad social contexts. Ideally, such samples will include multiple perspectives on the same events, rather than the one-sided accounts we rely upon here. In addition, to the extent that future investigations can draw from samples with greater variations across gender, race, class, place and age, the influences of these elements can be more precisely articulated.
Future research will also benefit from greater attention to negative cases--for example, incidents where similar processes are at play that do not culminate in violence. We have some evidence of this here, including Lisa's conflict with Shantay and Pumpkin's discussion of her previous efforts to avoid being drawn into her brother's and his girlfriends' fights. In addition, Sugar, who was most heavily guided by street-based social norms, provided an interesting counterpoint to her violent encounters with Chi-Chi. Describing an incident in which a woman surreptitiously stole money from her while she was dealing drugs, she 'chas[ed] after the bitch, 'cause she ran', but did not retaliate later when the opportunity presented itself. This was both because the woman 'was with her kids' when Sugar saw her again and she didn't 'want to disrespect nobody's kids', but also because the children 'looked dirty and everything ... not clean, hair never combed'. Sugar surmised that the woman 'probably did need [the money] for her kids ... so that's why I left her alone ... I just thought of it for charity or something'. (10)
There is some evidence in the literature that 'an attack by someone who does not possess sufficient status can be ignored because it does not represent a serious affront to the superior's status, and no status can be gained by an altercation', while at the same time, 'violence directed at members of outgroups is tolerated and sometimes encouraged' (Baron, et al., 2001, p. 766). But in addition, our research suggests there are likely a range of situations and contexts in which violence is deferred or avoided (see also Mullins, 2006).
Careful attention to such variations in meanings and outcomes offers further promise for improving our holistic understanding of the nature and progression of conflicts, and their embeddedness in broader social contexts. We believe this approach to the study of disputes and violence can produce important insights. Our analyses here point toward the need for additional research of this type, not only on the escalation of interpersonal disputes, but of the gendered nature of these processes, and their embeddedness in social locations of intersecting inequalities. |
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