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On the Run: Fugitive Life in an American City Paperback – April 7, 2015
A RIVETING, GROUNDBREAKING ACCOUNT OF HOW THE WAR ON CRIME HAS TORN APART INNER-CITY COMMUNITIES
Forty years in, the tough on crime turn in American politics has spurred a prison boom of historic proportions that disproportionately affects Black communities. It has also torn at the lives of those on the outside. As arrest quotas and high tech surveillance criminalize entire blocks, a climate of fear and suspicion pervades daily life, not only for young men entangled in the legal system, but for their family members and working neighbors.
Alice Goffman spent six years in one Philadelphia neighborhood, documenting the routine stops, searches, raids, and beatings that young men navigate as they come of age. In the course of her research, she became roommates with Mike and Chuck, two friends trying to make ends meet between low wage jobs and the drug trade. Like many in the neighborhood, Mike and Chuck were caught up in a cycle of court cases, probation sentences, and low level warrants, with no clear way out. We observe their girlfriends and mothers enduring raids and interrogations, "clean" residents struggling to go to school and work every day as the cops chase down neighbors in the streets, and others eking out a living by providing clean urine, fake documents, and off the books medical care.
This fugitive world is the hidden counterpoint to mass incarceration, the grim underside of our nation's social experiment in punishing Black men and their families. While recognizing the drug trade's damage, On The Run reveals a justice system gone awry: it is an exemplary work of scholarship highlighting the failures of the War on Crime, and a compassionate chronicle of the families caught in the midst of it.
"A remarkable feat of reporting . . . The level of detail in this book and Goffman's ability to understand her subjects' motivations are astonishing―and riveting."―The New York Times Book Review
- Print length304 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherPicador
- Publication dateApril 7, 2015
- Dimensions0.9 x 5.4 x 8.2 inches
- ISBN-101250065666
- ISBN-13978-1250065667
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Editorial Reviews
Review
“Extraordinary.” ―Malcolm Gladwell, The New Yorker
“A remarkable feat of reporting…The level of detail in this book and Goffman's ability to understand her subjects' motivations are astonishing--and riveting.” ―The New York Times Book Review
“Necessary… Goffman's lively prose--communicated in a striking voice rare for an academic--opens a window into a life where paranoia has become routine… She goes beyond her street-level focus to argue something more profound.” ―Baltimore City Paper
“Alice Goffman's On the Run is the best treatment I know of the wretched underside of neo-liberal capitalist America. Despite the social misery and fragmented relations, she gives us a subtle analysis and poignant portrait of our fellow citizens who struggle to preserve their sanity and dignity.” ―Cornel West
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
On the Run
Fugitive Life in an American City
By Alice GoffmanPicador
Copyright © 2014 The University of ChicagoAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-250-06566-7
Contents
Title Page,Copyright Notice,
Prologue,
Preface,
Introduction,
1. The 6th Street Boys and Their Legal Entanglements,
2. The Art of Running,
3. When the Police Knock Your Door In,
4. Turning Legal Troubles into Personal Resources,
5. The Social Life of Criminalized Young People,
6. The Market in Protections and Privileges,
7. Clean People,
Conclusion: A Fugitive Community,
Epilogue: Leaving 6th Street,
Acknowledgments,
Appendix: A Methodological Note,
Notes,
Additional Praise for On the Run,
About the Author,
Copyright,
CHAPTER 1
The 6th Street Boys and Their Legal Entanglements
CHUCK AND TIM
On quiet afternoons, Chuck would sometimes pass the time by teaching his twelve-year-old brother, Tim, how to run from the police. They'd sit side by side on the iron back-porch steps of their two-story home, facing the shared concrete alley that connects the small fenced-in backyards of their block to those of the houses on the next.
"What you going to do when you hear the sirens?" Chuck asked.
"I'm out," his little brother replied.
"Where you running to?"
"Here."
"You can't run here—they know you live here."
"I'ma hide in the back room in the basement."
"You think they ain't tearing down that little door?"
Tim shrugged.
"You know Miss Toya?"
"Yeah."
"You can go over there."
"But I don't even know her like that."
"Exactly."
"Why I can't go to Uncle Jean's?"
"'Cause they know that's your uncle. You can't go to nobody that's connected to you."
Tim nodded his head, seeming happy to get his brother's attention no matter what he was saying.
Chuck was the eldest of three brothers. He shared a small, second-floor bedroom with Tim, seven years his junior, and Reggie, born right between them. Reggie had left for juvenile detention centers by the time he turned eleven, so Tim didn't know his middle brother very well. He looked up to Chuck almost like a father.
When Tim was a baby, his dad had moved down to South Carolina and married a woman there; he did not keep in touch. Reggie's father was worse: an in-the-way (no-account) man of no consequence or merit, in prison on long bids and then out for stints of drunken robberies. Reggie said he wouldn't recognize him in the street. By contrast, Chuck's father came around a lot during his early years, a fact that Chuck sometimes mentioned when trying to explain why he knew right from wrong and his younger brothers did not.
The boys' mother, Miss Linda, had been five years into a heavy crack habit when she became pregnant with Chuck, and continued using as the boys grew up. With welfare cuts the family had very little government assistance, and Miss Linda never could hold a job for more than a few months at a time. Her father's post office pension paid the household bills, but he didn't pay for food or clothes or school supplies. He said it was beyond what he could do, and not his responsibility anyway.
At thirteen Chuck began working for a local dealer, which meant that he could buy food for himself and Tim instead of asking his mother for money she didn't have. His access to crack also meant that he could better regulate his mother's addiction. Now she came to him to get drugs, and mostly stopped prostituting herself and selling off their household possessions when she needed a hit. In high school Chuck got arrested a number of times, but the cases didn't stick and he continued working for the dealer.
By his sophomore year, Chuck's legs were sticking out past the edge of the bunk bed he shared with Tim. He cleared out the unfinished basement and moved his mattress and clothing down there. The basement flooded and smelled like mildew and sometimes the rats bit him, but at least he had his own space.
Tim was eight when Chuck moved out of their room, and he tried to put a brave face on it. When he couldn't sleep, he padded down to the basement and crawled into bed with his brother.
In his senior year, when we met, Chuck stood six feet tall and had a build shaped by basketball and boxing—his two favorite sports. That winter, he got into a fight in the school yard with a kid who had called his mom a crack whore. According to the police report, Chuck didn't hurt the other guy much, only pushed his face into the snow, but the school cops charged him with aggravated assault. It didn't matter, Chuck said, that he was on the basketball team, and making Cs and Bs. Since he'd just turned eighteen, the aggravated assault case landed him in the Curran-Fromhold Correctional Facility, a large pink and gray county jail on State Road in Northeast Philadelphia, known locally as CFCF or simply the F.
About a month after Chuck went to jail, Tim stopped speaking. He would nod his head yes or no, but didn't say any words. When Chuck called home from jail he asked his mother to put Tim on the phone, and he would talk to his little brother about what he imagined was happening back at home.
"Mike prolly don't be coming around no more, now that his baby-mom about to pop. She probably big as shit right now. If it's a boy he going to be skinny like his pops, but if it's a girl she'll be a fat-ass like her mom."
Tim never answered, but sometimes he smiled. Chuck kept talking until his minutes ran out.
In his letters and phone calls home, Chuck tried to persuade his mother to take his little brother to the jail for visiting hours. "He just need to see me, like, he ain't got nobody out there."
Miss Linda didn't have the state ID required to visit inmates in county jail, only a social security card and an old voter registration card, and anyway she hated seeing her sons locked up. Chuck's friends Mike and Alex offered to take Tim along with them, but since Tim was a minor, his parent or guardian had to go, too.
Eight months after Chuck was taken into custody, the judge threw out most of the charges and Chuck came home, with only a couple hundred dollars in court fees hanging over his head. When Tim saw his brother walking up the alley, he cried and clung to his leg. He tried to stay awake through the evening festivities but finally fell asleep with his head in Chuck's lap.
Over the next few months, Chuck patiently coaxed his brother to start speaking again. He stayed in most nights and played video games with Tim on the old TV in the living room.
He even moved back up to Tim's room for a while, so Tim wouldn't be alone at night. He extended his bed with a folding chair, propping his legs up on it and cursing when they fell through.
"He'll get it back," Chuck said. "He just needs some QT [quality time]."
Tim nodded hopefully.
The following fall, Chuck tried to re-enroll as a senior, but the high school would not admit him; he had already turned nineteen. Then the judge on his old assault case issued a warrant for his arrest, because he hadn't paid $225 in court fees that came due a few weeks after his assault case ended. He spent a few months on the run before going downtown to the Warrant and Surrender Office of the Criminal Justice Center to see if he could work something out with the judge. It was a big risk: Chuck wasn't sure if they'd take him into custody on the spot. Instead, the court clerk worked out a monthly payment plan, and Chuck came home, jubilant, that afternoon.
That fall Tim started speaking again. He remained very quiet, preferring to communicate with a small smile or a shake of his head.
Tim's first arrest came later that year, after he'd turned eleven. Chuck was driving Tim to school in his girlfriend's car, and when a cop pulled them over the car came up as stolen in California. Chuck had a pretty good idea which one of his girlfriend's relatives had stolen the car, but he didn't say anything. "Wasn't going to help," he said.
The officer took both brothers into custody, and down at the police station they charged Chuck with receiving stolen property. They charged Tim with accessory, and later a judge in the juvenile court placed Tim on three years of probation.
With this probation sentence hanging over Tim's head, any encounter with the police might mean a violation and a trip to juvenile detention, so Chuck began teaching his little brother how to run from the police in earnest: how to spot undercover cars, how and where to hide, how to negotiate a police stop so that he didn't put himself or those around him at greater risk.
REGGIE
Chuck and Tim's middle brother, Reggie, came home for a few months then. He was an overweight young man of fifteen, and already developing a reputation as good muscle for robberies. Older guys in the neighborhood referred to him as a cannon, meaning a person of courage and commitment. Reggie had heart, they said. He wouldn't back down from danger. Miss Linda described her middle son as a goon. Unlike herself and her oldest son, Chuck, Reggie seemed utterly uninterested in neighborhood gossip. He didn't care if someone else was out there making money or getting girls—he only cared if he was.
"And he fearless," she said with some pride. "A stone-cold gangster."
Reggie also had a lesser-known artistic side: he wrote rhymes on the outside, and penned a number of "'hood" novels while he was locked up.
When Reggie came home this time, he planned a number of daring schemes to rob armored cars or big-time drug dealers, but he could rarely find anyone around 6th Street willing to team up with him. "Niggas be backing out at the last minute!" he lamented to me, half-jokingly. "They ain't got no heart."
Chuck tried to discourage Reggie from these robberies, but Reggie didn't seem to have the patience for making slow money selling drugs hand to hand, so he contributed only sporadically to the household. "My brother's the breadwinner," he acknowledged.
A month after he turned fifteen, Reggie tested positive for marijuana at a routine probation meeting. (This is referred to as a piss test, and when you test positive, it is called hot piss.) The probation board issued him a technical violation, and instead of allowing them to take him into custody, Reggie ran out of the building. They soon issued a bench warrant for his arrest.
That evening, Reggie explained that there was no point in turning himself in, because being in juvenile detention is much worse than living on the run.
"How long are you going to be on the run for?" I asked.
"Till I turn myself in."
"That's what you're going to do?"
"No, that's something I could do, but I'm not."
"Yeah."
"'Cause what happened last time I turned myself in? Time."
"Last time when you got locked up you had turned yourself in?"
"Did I."
"How long did you sit before your case came up?"
"Like nine months."
During the time Reggie was on the run from this probation violation, he also became a suspect in an armed robbery case, so the police issued a body warrant—an open warrant for those accused of committing new crimes—for his arrest. The robbery had been caught on tape, and the footage was even aired on the six o'clock news. The cops began driving around the neighborhood with Reggie's picture and asking people to identify him. They raided his mother's house in the middle of the night, and the next morning Reggie told me:
Yo, the law ran up in my crib last night talking about they had a body warrant for a armed robbery. I ain't rob nobody since I had to get that bail money for my brother last year. ... They talking 'bout they going to come back every night till they grab me. Now my mom saying she going to turn me in 'cause she don't want the law in her crib. ... I'm not with it. I ain't going back to jail. I'll sleep in my car if I have to.
In fact, Reggie did take to sleeping in his car, and managed to live on the run for a few months before the cops caught him.
* * *
Some people in the neighborhood said that Chuck and his younger brothers got into so much trouble because their fathers weren't around, and their mother failed to set a good example. By virtually all accounts, Miss Linda was an addict and had not raised her boys well. One had only to step foot inside her house to know this: it smelled of piss and vomit and stale cigarettes, and cockroaches roamed freely across the countertops and soiled living room furniture. But many of Chuck's friends had mothers who hadn't succumbed to crack, who worked two jobs and went to church. These friends, too, were spending a lot of their time dealing with the police and the courts.
MIKE AND RONNY
Mike was two years older than Chuck and had grown up just a block away in a two-story home shared with his mother and uncle, who had inherited the house from Mike's grandfather. His mother kept an exceptionally clean house and held down two and sometimes three jobs.
Mike's first arrest had come at thirteen, when the police stopped, searched, and arrested him for carrying a small quantity of marijuana. He was put on probation and managed to stay out of trouble long enough to finish high school by taking night classes, as the large graduation photo on his mother's mantel attested.
The two jobs Mike's mom worked meant that he had more money growing up than most of the other guys—enough for new school clothes and Christmas gifts. Chuck and Alex sometimes joked that as a result of this relatively privileged upbringing, Mike had too strong an appetite for the finer things in life, like beautiful women and the latest fashion. His elaborate morning routine of clothes ironing, hair care, body lotion, and sneaker buffing was the source of much amusement. "Two full hours from the shower to the door," Chuck quipped. Mike defended these habits and affinities, claiming that they came from an ambition to make something more of himself than what he was given.
At twenty-two, Mike was working part time at a pharmaceutical warehouse and selling crack on the side for extra cash. His high school girlfriend was about to give birth to their second child.
A few weeks after his daughter was born, Mike lost the job at the warehouse. Complications with his daughter's birth had caused him to miss work too many days in a row. He spent the first six months of his daughter's life in a fruitless and humiliating attempt to find work; then he persuaded a friend from another neighborhood to give him some crack to sell on credit.
Mike had no brothers or sisters but often went around with his young boy Ronny, whom he regarded as a brother and in more sentimental moments as a godson.2 Ronny was a short and stocky boy who wore do-rags that concealed a short Afro, and hoodies that he pulled down to cover most of his face. His mother had gotten strung out on crack while he was growing up, and he spent his early years shuttling between homeless shelters. An adopted aunt on his father's side raised Ronny until he was twelve. When this beloved aunt died, his maternal grandmother took over his care. That's when the trips to detention centers started.
A self-proclaimed troublemaker, Ronny was repeatedly kicked out of school for things like hitting his teacher or trying to steal the principal's car. When his grandmother asked him to be good, he smiled with one corner of his mouth and said, "I want to, Nanna, but I can't promise nothing. I can't even say I'm going to try." Daily she threatened to send him away to a juvenile detention center. Ronny began to carry a gun at thirteen, and at fifteen he shot himself in the leg while boarding a bus.
Ronny was also an excellent dancer and, in his words, "a lil' pimp." The first time we had a real conversation, we were driving to various jails in the city to find where Mike was being held, because the police had arrested him earlier that morning. We were sitting in my car, and Ronny asked how old I was. I told him my age at the time: twenty-one. After a moment he grinned and said, "I've been with women older than you."
Soon after we met, Ronny made a name for himself in the neighborhood by getting into a cop chase from West to South Philly, first by car and then on foot through a gas station, a Laundromat, and an arcade. He spent most of the next six years in juvenile detention centers in upstate Pennsylvania and Maryland.
ALEX
Alex had grown up a few blocks off 6th Street, but he hung out there all through his childhood and became good friends with Chuck and Mike in high school. He lived with his mother, but when he turned fifteen his father had reconnected with the family, which improved their circumstances substantially. His dad owned two small businesses in the neighborhood, and Alex got to hang out there after school.
By twenty-three, Alex was a portly man with a pained and tired look about him, as if the weight of caring for his two toddlers and their mothers were too much for him to bear. He had sold crack and pills on the block in his teens and spent a year upstate on a drug conviction. By his early twenties, he was working hard to live in compliance with his two-year parole sentence. He worked part time at his dad's heating and air-conditioning repair shop, moving to full-time hours by the end of 2004. Sometimes Mike and Chuck grudgingly noted that if their dads owned a small business they'd have jobs, too, but mostly they seemed happy for Alex and hoped he could keep his good thing going.
ANTHONY
Anthony was twenty-two years old when we met, and living in an abandoned Jeep off 6th Street. The year before, his aunt kicked him out of her house because she caught him stealing from her purse, though Anthony denied this. He occasionally found day-labor work in light construction, sometimes getting on a crew for a few weeks at a time. In between, Mike sometimes gave him a little crack to sell, though he was never any good at selling it because he put up no defense when other guys robbed him. "Living out here [in a car], I can't just go shoot niggas up, you feel me?" Anthony explained. "Everybody knows where I'm at. I ain't got no walls around me."
(Continues...)Excerpted from On the Run by Alice Goffman. Copyright © 2014 The University of Chicago. Excerpted by permission of Picador.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Product details
- Publisher : Picador; Reprint edition (April 7, 2015)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 304 pages
- ISBN-10 : 1250065666
- ISBN-13 : 978-1250065667
- Item Weight : 9 ounces
- Dimensions : 0.9 x 5.4 x 8.2 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #76,342 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #68 in Sociology of Urban Areas
- #266 in Criminology (Books)
- #377 in African American Demographic Studies (Books)
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Customers find the book engaging and thought-provoking. They appreciate the author's familiarity with the subject matter. The narrative provides a fascinating account of research and thought-provoking material. Readers praise the ethnographic approach as informative and worth reading, with great discussions on ethical, methodological, and epistemological challenges. Overall, it is considered a sociological study of race and the criminal justice system.
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Customers find the book engaging and insightful. They appreciate the author's basic familiarity with the subject matter.
"...Add (9-30-18) I did find a good book on this question: Moskos, Peter (2008) Cop: My year policing Baltimore's Eastern District. Princeton Press...." Read more
"...But I found it really informative and worth reading, especially in light of recent events in Ferguson, Staten Island, etc.—lots of poor black people..." Read more
"It was an interesting read, but there was definitely some holes in her research." Read more
"...It's a compelling book. The ethical, methodological, and epistemological challenges make for great discussions in class...." Read more
Customers find the narrative engaging and thought-provoking. They describe it as an interesting, compelling story that offers a realistic view of young, underprivileged minorities in a neighborhood. The book skillfully blends theory with dramatic, authentic engagement, providing a gritty account of life in West Philadelphia.
"...As a criminal justice major, it was so informative and such a great story...." Read more
"Outstanding ethnography that combines theory skillfully blended with dramatic, authentic engagement...." Read more
"This book is interesting and thought provoking. I work in the field, and this book made me realize things that never occurred to me...." Read more
"...But I found it really informative and worth reading, especially in light of recent events in Ferguson, Staten Island, etc.—lots of poor black people..." Read more
Customers find the book engaging and informative. They appreciate the author's research approach, which is clear, precise, and objective. The sociological study of race and the criminal justice system is well-received.
"...I am no expert, but I think this will be a classic ethnography in American anthropology and sociology...." Read more
"Outstanding ethnography that combines theory skillfully blended with dramatic, authentic engagement...." Read more
"This is a work of ethnography, whose author, a middle-class white student, spent years living in a poor black neighbourhood in an attempt to..." Read more
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- Reviewed in the United States on September 23, 2018I really was awed by this book (and am puzzled by what one reviewer (below) has written). Goffman herself came from a privileged and educated background and chose to live for six years (on and off, but I think mostly on) in a poor, black, run-down, and drug-infested area in Philadelphia. One of her main interests was the interaction of police and dropout males from this district. How do children grow in unsafe environments? What happens when there is so much policing brought into the lives of young people? She also contrasts kids who grow up dirty and who grow up clean. She talks about the repetitive violence from drugs and guns (and fists or baseball bats or bricks into car windows), the ties that bind these families together (or forces that stress them apart), the lives of the genders, motherhood, girlfriend-hood, and problems of being a short, pretty white girl in an entirely black area.
I am no expert, but I think this will be a classic ethnography in American anthropology and sociology.
There are some things that Goffman does not talk about, but these were beyond the charge of her research. Specifically, while the presence of police brutality is documented, I was left curious about how the young police officers were inculcated into this blue culture. What holds their "blue family" together? What do police officers do with their fear (other than try to "take control")? At what point of induction into being a police officer does fear and stereotypy become the motif of life?
Add (9-30-18) I did find a good book on this question: Moskos, Peter (2008) Cop: My year policing Baltimore's Eastern District. Princeton Press. Available on Amazon. Moskos graduated from college and joined the Baltimore police force as a rookie. He is scathing about his six-month training, which taught him nothing outside of legal strictures and how to write reports. One of his observations is how police cars detract from getting to know a neighborhood, but all police hate foot patrolling (it is hard, no computers, no flashing lights, seen as a punishment) and thus police really do not know the people of the area. The final chapter is "Prohibition: Al Capone's revenge," a comment on how prohibition actually makes the border between police and the people far more difficult than would legalized drugs and medical care.
- Reviewed in the United States on June 16, 2022Bought this book after watching her Ted Talk. As a criminal justice major, it was so informative and such a great story. Definitely showed how it is for African Americans to live not only on the run from cops, but in America. 10/10 would recommend. Definitely one of my top favorite books!
- Reviewed in the United States on February 10, 2020Outstanding ethnography that combines theory skillfully blended with dramatic, authentic engagement. Provides an excellent picture of how cascading system effects trap poor black youth in a neighborhood but outside the identity systems that are required for viable lifestyles. Poor neighborhoods don’t have tax bases so they rely on fines, which apply to minor incidents. Youth especially targeted. They can’t pay fines so get bench warrants, unnecessary jail time, and are thereafter flagged, leading to no permanent residences, marginal income, and police persecution.
- Reviewed in the United States on December 15, 2015This book is interesting and thought provoking. I work in the field, and this book made me realize things that never occurred to me. It is obviously not all encompassing but she did good work here.
- Reviewed in the United States on April 17, 2015This is a work of ethnography, whose author, a middle-class white student, spent years living in a poor black neighbourhood in an attempt to understand what life was like for people in a very different world. It's generated a lot of controversy, including accusations of focusing too much on the criminal elements and treating the community as a source of dramatic entertainment for outsiders, or something along those lines.
But I found it really informative and worth reading, especially in light of recent events in Ferguson, Staten Island, etc.—lots of poor black people are getting killed by the police for no good reason, and the police are getting away with it. I didn't know nearly enough about the interactions of the criminal justice system with poor black communities, so I feel like I learned a lot from this book. There's mention of how young children get entangled in the criminal justice system, like one boy who's maybe 11 and is riding in a car with his older brother; it turns out the car is stolen, so the 11-year-old is treated as an accomplice to a crime and the process begins. There's also discussion of how police threaten and intimidate women to make them inform on their sons, brothers, or boyfriends: in poor neighbourhoods, where living conditions aren't always great, it's easy to say that their homes are unacceptable and threaten to take away their children, or just arrest the women themselves for various secondary crimes like obstructing justice etc. There are plenty of violent police raids. The pressure to inform creates an atmosphere of distrust and rips apart the social fabric; men who are wanted by the police have to make a habit of being unpredictable, not letting anyone know where they'll be at a given time, and so on. I also had no idea just how many types of warrants there are for various offenses: besides actually committing crimes, people are often wanted for things like not paying court fees. And men who often have multiple warrants out for their arrest can't take advantage of basic services like medical care; showing up at the hospital when they've suffered a serious injury or their partner is about to give birth can result in arrest, so it's often too risky.
So there's lots of thought-provoking material here, and I feel like I learned a lot about a world that was completely unfamiliar to me. My only complaint is the organization of the book in thematic sections; the lack of a continuous narrative made it easy to set the book down, so I didn't read it straight through, and I often found myself wanting to read more about Alice herself and her place in this world. But there's a lengthy afterword where she does talk more about her own experiences, which was also really interesting. She had taken her project so far that she avoided any media that her friends in the neighbourhood weren't also reading or watching, with the result that she had trouble interacting with people in graduate school after missing out on years of typical undergrad experiences. She had developed a fear of young-ish white men with short hair—i.e., people who could potentially be police officers—which made it difficult to interact with some of her professors. Etc.
I'm glad I read this one.
- Reviewed in the United States on May 31, 2016It was an interesting read, but there was definitely some holes in her research.
Top reviews from other countries
- Joseph MyrenReviewed in Canada on September 25, 2023
5.0 out of 5 stars AWESOME
AWESOME
-
LibcalReviewed in Japan on July 16, 2017
4.0 out of 5 stars 失われたエスノグラフィーを蘇らせる
あのアーヴィング・ゴフマンの娘、アリス・ゴフマンによるエスノグラフィー
アメリカの刑事司法(Criminal Justice)、人種差別、そしてエスノグラフィーについて興味があれば、これは必読です
ゴフマンは社会学者だが、文章の構成は非常に読みやすい(新聞記事を読んでいる感覚)ので、すらすら読めます
追記:議論を包括的に理解されたいのであれば、この本の批判も把握するとよいと思います。「事実かどうか分からない!」みたいな適当な批判ではなく、ゴフマンは果たしてしっかりと研究者としてのアイデンティティー(かつ白人女性である事)が調査結果に影響を与えたか与えてないかを考えたかどうか(reflexivityの概念にあたります)、などについてです。
- NiseachReviewed in the United Kingdom on January 4, 2016
5.0 out of 5 stars I would like to have read more about the methodology in terms ...
This is exceptionally well written and provides a fascinating insight into life in Philadelphia's '6th Street' area. In terms of ethnographic studies, it is up there with Waquant's 'Body and Soul' in portraying the realities of life on the American streets. I would like to have read more about the methodology in terms of how she entered, lived in and left the field herself, and particularly how she came to be accepted as a white, middle-class and educated female in the field she describes. I will try and locate her thesis to find out further details about this. My one disappointment is that there is not enough of her own reflexivityin the book. It would be fantastic to hear how the inquiry impacted upon her ethnographic self as so many parts of the book could detail and capture her own emotions, beliefs and actions. The likes of Harry Wolcott do this extremely well.
- fffReviewed in Germany on September 1, 2015
5.0 out of 5 stars good read
Good read. Helped me a lot with my research on mass incarceration in the United States of America. I'll recommend it to my friends-.
- kenadyReviewed in Canada on November 24, 2019
5.0 out of 5 stars SUCH AN AMAZING READ
I’ve recommended this book to anyone that I can, so amazing