The Hindu Business Line : Black and poor?

Entrenched poverty, domestic violence, the prevalence of guns, and such other sociological issues in the community didn’t interest Sudhir Venkatesh. As a research student in the University of Chicago, he wanted to study in-depth the Black Kings crack gang, but inside out, not outside in.

“The field of sociology had long been divided into two camps: those who use quantitative and statistical techniques and those who study life by direct observation, often living among a group of people,” he writes in Gang Leader for a Day ( www.landmarkonthenet.com ).

Venkatesh belongs to the second group, usually called the ethnographers, who use their firsthand approach to find answers, even while being criticised by the first group as not being scientific enough. For, the statistical-minded argue that to reach any important and generalisable conclusion, ‘you need to rely on the statistical analyses of large data sets like the US Census or other massive surveys.’

Not an unfamiliar name is Venkatesh to readers of current economics literature. Freakonomics had talked about him, reminisces its co-author Stephen J. Dubner in his foreword to the book on hand. “It was many readers’ favourite part,” Dubner acknowledges.

“Most social scientists and do-gooders tend to do their work at arm’s length,” he rues. “A lot of writing about the poor tends to reduce living, breathing, joking, struggling, sensual, moral human beings to dupes who are shoved about by invisible forces.”

Which is why Venkatesh’s book is so absorbing. “I knew that I wanted to something other than sit in a classroom all day and talk mathematics,” he recounts in the opening chapter titled ‘How does it feel to be black and poor?’

He ventures out, therefore, to ‘Building Number 4040’ in the Lake Park projects, about two miles north of the University, after randomly choosing the target for interviewing from the census records of poor black families with people between the ages of sixteen and twenty-four.

“Most housing projects, even though they are built in cities, run counter to the very notion of urban living,” the author bemoans. “Cities are attractive because of their balkanised variety: wandering the streets of a good city, you can see all sorts of highs and lows, commerce and recreation, a multitude of ethnicities and just as many expressions of public life.” In contrast, housing projects seem to be “a study in joyless monotony, the buildings clustered tightly together but set apart from the rest of the city, as if they were toxic.”

After a false start at a building with water dripping everywhere, and ‘shouts and shrieks’ cascading down from the higher floors ‘making the whole place feel like ‘some kind of vibrating catacomb,’ Venkatesh spots 4040, a high-rise with paled marking. It is there that he would meet a group of young men, who wield guns and knives and search his bag to pull out his questionnaire sheets, pen and paper, a few sociology books…

Venkatesh then begins his survey. “How does it feel to be black and poor?” he reads out the first question and offers multiple-choice answers: “Very bad, somewhat bad, neither bad nor good, somewhat good, very good.” The assembled gang laughs and giggles.

“A few of them seemed to think that I was an advance scout from a Mexican gang, conducting reconnaissance for a drive-by attack,” narrates Venkatesh. Sometime later comes J.T., the boss, ‘the most formidable person’ in the author’s life, for a long time to come.

“I’m not black,” answers J.T. So Venkatesh rephrases the question, sounding apologetic: “Well, then, how does it feel to be African American and poor?” And J.T. responds: “I’m not African American either. I’m a nigger.” He is disappointed with the questions. “Niggers are the ones who live in this building,” explains J.T. “African Americans live in the suburbs. African Americans wear ties to work. Niggers can’t find no work.”

Then he asks Venkatesh in bewilderment: “How’d you get to do this if you don’t even know who we are, what we’re about?”

A long night of vigil follows. Early morning, J.T. returns and advises Venkatesh about ‘the proper way to study people’ instead of asking silly questions. “With people like us, you should hang out, get to know what they do, how they do it. No one is going to answer questions like that. You need to understand how young people live on the streets.”

Years later when, as ‘an edgy young Ivy League professor,’ Venkatesh meets J.T. and discusses vague ideas for possible research in New York, J.T. pulls a small piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to him.

“There were several names and phone numbers printed in J.T.’s scratchy handwriting. Among the names was that of Curtis, the gang leader in Newark…” Plus there is a letter for Billy Jo, ‘the one who really knows what’s happening in New York.’ Venkatesh reads it: “Billy, Sudhir is coming out your way. Take care of the nigger…My eyes scanned down and caught a phrase in the middle of the page: He’s with me.”

Venkatesh breaks into a wide smile and J.T. reaches into his car to pull out two beers. “I’m not sure I’m ready for another big research project just yet,” wonders the author. “Oh, yeah?” says J.T. handing him one of the beers. “What else are you going to do? You can’t fix nothing, you never worked a day in your life. The only thing you know how to do is hang out with niggers like us.”

Writes Venkatesh: “I nearly choked on my beer when he summarised my capacities so succinctly — and, for the most part, accurately.”

A great read to discover, as the foreword concedes, “day by day and dollar by dollar, how the crack dealers, tenant leaders, prostitutes, parents, hustlers, cops, and Venkatesh himself tried to construct a good life out of substandard materials.”

D. MURALI

http://BookPeek.blogspot.com

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