Unequal Childhoods - Annette Lareau [78]
ALEX: I’m not ten.
DOCTOR: Well, they graphed you at ten. You’re—nine years and ten months. They—they usually take the closest year to get that graph.
The act of interrupting a person of authority is a display of entitlement. It is also indicative of middle-class child-rearing priorities: the incivility of interrupting a speaker is overlooked in favor of encouraging children’s sense of their individual importance and of affirming their right to air their own thoughts and ideas to adults. The casualness with which Alexander corrects the doctor (“I’m not ten”) is a further indication of this child’s easy assumption of his rights. A final signal, in the form of a clear directive Alex issues to the doctor, comes later, after he has listened to the doctor provide instructions over the phone for the emergency treatment of a child just admitted with an eye wound. “Stay away from my eyelids!” Alex commands, only half jesting.
The value of a feeling of ease when interacting with a professional is underscored when the discussion shifts to Alexander’s diet. Ms. Williams readily admits that they do not always follow nutritional guidelines:
DOCTOR: Do you get your fruits and vegetables too?
ALEX: Yeah.
CHRISTINA (high-pitched): Ooooo. . . .
DOCTOR: I see we have a second opinion. (laughter)
ALEX (voice rising): You give me bananas and all in my lunch every day. And I had cabbage for dinner last night.
DOCTOR: Do you get at least one or two fruits, one or two vegetables every day?
ALEX: Yeah.
DOCTOR: Marginally?
CHRISTINA: Ninety-eight percent of the time he eats pretty well.
DOCTOR: OK, I can live with that.
This honesty is a form of capital because it gives the doctor accurate (rather than vague, incomplete, or incorrect) information.15 Class resources are again activated when Ms. Williams reveals that she “gave up” on a medication. The doctor pleasantly but clearly suggests that she should continue the medication longer. In steering Ms. Williams in a different direction, the doctor acknowledges her relative power by framing his answer as if he is “arguing for it,” rather than plainly directing her to execute a medically necessary action. She, in turn, accepts his explanation of the drug’s benefits and indicates a willingness to keep her son on the medication for the full recommended period.
Like his mother, Alex also engages in a pattern of conversational give and take with the doctor. And, like his mother, Alexander strives to customize his time with the doctor. When he offers his prepared-in-advance question about the bumps in his armpits, he gets the physician’s undivided attention and an implicit acknowledgment that this condition is a valid subject and worthy of consideration in the exam:
DOCTOR: Well, now the most important question. Do you have any questions you want to ask me before I do your physical?
ALEX: Um . . . only one. I’ve been getting some bumps on my arms, right around here [indicates underarm].
DOCTOR: Underneath?
ALEX: Yeah.
DOCTOR: Okay, I’ll have to take a look at those when I come in closer to do the checkup. And I’ll see what they are and what I can do. Do they hurt or itch?
ALEX: No, they’re just there.
DOCTOR: Okay, I’ll take a look at those bumps for you.
At the end of the office visit, when the doctor turns to Alex’s mother to ask, “Any questions or worries on your part?” Ms. Williams replies, “No . . . he seems to be coming along very nicely.”16 This statement succinctly captures her view of her son as a project that is progressing well. The exchange also underscores the relative equality of status between Ms. Williams and the doctor—the tone implies a conversation between peers (with the child as a legitimate participant), rather than a communication from a person in authority to persons in a subordinate position.
Throughout this office visit, Alex makes repeated use of his many language skills. And, in remembering to raise the question he prepared in advance, he gains the doctor’s full attention and focuses it on an issue of his choosing. In so doing,