Replacing the Lone Stranger with Evidence-Based Theory: Collaborative Fieldwork in Anthropology

Drs. Michaela Howells and Christopher Lynn (author) in traditional business attire to meet with officials outside Samoan Affairs, Tutuila, in American Samoa.

Drs. Michaela Howells and Christopher Lynn (author) in traditional business attire to meet with officials outside Samoan Affairs, Tutuila, American Samoa.

An abridged version of this post first appeared in our column in Anthropology News: http://www.anthropology-news.org/index.php/2016/12/19/replacing-the-lone-stranger-with-evidence-based-theory/

At the 115th Annual Meeting of the American Anthropological Association this year in Minneapolis, MN, I was recruiting a graduate student whose former adviser was denied a promotion and who then told the student she should leave academia because she would never get hired or tenure at an R1 institution. There are several layers of things wrong with this scenario, but my pitch in gaining her interest in our program (as she has no intention of leaving academia) was that I absolutely refuse to send students into the field alone unless they essentially demand it, have already set up the field site, and have a proven track record of mature and independent work. There are several reasons for this. One, fieldworkers learn more from each other as part of a team. Two, there is emotional support when working with trained collaborators. Three, fieldwork teams conduct better science and collect more thorough data. Four, in theory, team fieldwork should be safer, provided the team makes safety a conscious priority and is ethically vetted. And, five, team fieldwork is a joyous, fun experience.

In the most recent issue of Annals of Anthropological Practice (an all-around great special issue called “‘Involve Me and I Learn’: Teaching and Applying Anthropology” edited by Toni Copeland and Francois Dengah), Max Stein and other students in my research group outline several advantages of this collaborative approach (2016). We draw on Philip Salzman (1989, 1994), who has written previously on problems with the implicit anthropological myth of the anthropologist as “lone stranger,” that of doing fieldwork alone in a remote location. As Salzman points out, we tend to be relatively uncritical of this model, which owes more to the heritage of our discipline and the predecessors we look up to than any value added to research. Similarly, Philippe Bourgois and Jeffrey Schonberg (2009) clearly articulate how the elicitation of “deep meaning” during data collection and analyses is improved through anthropological collaboration.

American Samoa is simultaneously a U.S. territory, a tropical paradise, and a developing country. WWII pillboxes remain all over Tutuila, the main island, such as this one near the village of Alega, 7/20/16.

American Samoa is simultaneously a U.S. territory, a tropical paradise, and a developing country. WWII pillboxes remain all over Tutuila, the main island, such as this one near the village of Alega, 7/20/16.

As we were preparing the AAP article and I was teaching with Bourgois and Schonberg’s book in my Anthropology of Drug Use course, I was invited by my friend and fellow biocultural anthropologist Michaela Howells (UNCW) to tag along as her research assistant for a trip to American Samoa to assess the influence of the Zika outbreak there on prenatal care access and utilization. Michaela and I have collaborated for the past several years on our Family and the Field Study, but we had never worked together in the field. This trip to American Samoa gave us an opportunity to test out this collaborative fieldwork model firsthand. I was recruited because, as a male with relatively high rank in the U.S. (as a tenured associate professor), I would be able to interview males in this traditional, hierarchical cultural system, where it is not appropriate for females to interview males, especially high status males, and vice versa. 

American Samoa is a small group of islands in the South Pacific and the southernmost territory of the U.S. It is characterized as the most traditional of the Pacific cultures, with village-based authority dominated by mostly male chiefs (Shore 1982). It is also strongly evangelical Christian and influenced by neoliberal identity politics. Women have been the primary resources for studies of prenatal care utilization, but in the American Samoan cultural system, resources are redistributed in the villages, with preferences given to elite members or relatives of chiefs (Howells 2013). Michaela and I spent several weeks making arrangements to interview males in the village of Fagasa, even buying ritual goods to give for the planned sua, a ceremonial gift-giving ceremony when interacting with matai or chiefs. However, the arrangements ultimately fell through; we collected survey data from 172 participants in the Department of Health clinics, but we failed to conduct any firsthand interviews. This situation could have been really frustrating, given the resources Michaela used to get me to American Samoa. Instead, it was the best, most productive field season I have ever experienced, primarily because we established and developed our team.

Working on the survey back translation with R.N. Tele Hill at the American Samoan Department of Health. (Photo by Michaela Howells).

Working on the survey back translation with R.N. Tele Hill at the American Samoan Department of Health. (Photo by Michaela Howells).

One of the best parts of this experience was watching each other work and learning how to communicate nonverbally with a good team member. One of the things I learned from Michaela is how easy it is to give a compliment to someone and how far that can go toward forging a relationship. Like many cultures of the world, one of the most important ethnographic skills to develop in Samoa is learning to hang out and shoot the shit. When you’re meeting someone, bring food to share, sit down with them (i.e., don’t hover over them, suggesting you’re in a rush and preparing to leave), and look for something to compliment. Michaela admired a lot of puletasi (traditional Samoan two-piece formal garment, worn by Samoan women to church or other formal events) while we were there. In turn, I learned to comment on the tatau (tattoos) I was noticing. I have brought this new skill home with me—I love good facial bling, colored contacts, tattoos, hairstyles, and clothes. People go to the trouble to deck themselves out, and it turns out they enjoy it when people do them the courtesy of noticing. The necessity of making small talk before getting down to business is common cross-culturally, but it’s not a norm in the U.S. and requires learning, especially for academic types, who are not necessarily known for their skills in verbal social grooming.

We talked with high school students in a health professions summer program through American Samoa Community College at LBJ Tropical Medical Center. Michaela and I intuitively traded off telling stories about medical anthropology to broaden these students' awareness of possible careers related to health.

Michaela talking with high school students in a health professions summer program through American Samoa Community College at LBJ Tropical Medical Center. Michaela and I intuitively traded off telling stories about medical anthropology to broaden these students’ awareness of possible careers related to health.

To figure out how to talk with people in Samoa, I watched Michaela and quickly learned how to show deference and when and how to reinforce what she was saying. But she also pointed out things I wouldn’t have noticed, such as that I am a resonant talker and tend to dominate a room. Ordinarily, and as a teacher, this works to my benefit; but in working with Samoans, I needed to tone it down, speak quieter, and literally lower my body so my head would be below that of the person I was speaking with. This behavior shows respect in a status-conscious, traditional society. This type of context is where our non-verbal communication came into play. As a feminist male, I defer to Michaela’s ethnographic expertise in American Samoa but am conscious to explicitly give her credit where it is due because others may assume that, as a male, I am in charge and that she is my student (or something else). I pointed out, for instance, that she developed the project and field site and that I was there as her research assistant.

I learned a lot about myself as well. I have never been observed by a colleague or superior in the field, though anthropology is not my first career or where I learned to teach or interview. However, aside from being hired for teaching jobs after demonstrating my approach, reading my teaching evaluations, or listening to my interviews and reading the transcripts, this was the first time I have ever received feedback on the job I was doing while doing it. For instance, I always try to maintain eye contact and to talk with people, not at them. Michaela noted that my eye contact seems to bring my interlocutors to life, like they are being seen, and my skill at turn-taking opens them up so that they feel like they are being heard. This was extremely validating and something I had developed on purpose but without realizing its effect. Our feedback to each other, thereby, reinforces our strengths and tweaks our skills while they are in use in the field.

Michaela working with Director of Nursing Margaret Sesepasara on the survey translation, 7/11/16.

Michaela working with Director of Nursing Margaret Sesepasara on the survey translation, 7/11/16.

One of the misnomers of fieldwork is that it is always a dream come true while it is happening. In fact, most anecdotal evidence and a significant accumulation of literature supports a different model. Conducting fieldwork alone, especially as an inexperienced student, is scary and can even be traumatizing. I often tell students about the first time I went into a Pentecostal church service, when I was beginning my dissertation fieldwork. I was in New Paltz, which I affectionately term “Portlandia East” (or the liberal vortex of the east coast). Despite feeling very comfortable in this, my hometown at the time, I was so nervous about walking into the “other” that I sat in my car until the service was half over. The result was that the only seat left was right up front, and I drew more attention to myself by arriving late than if I’d gone straight in. Most of us are nervous about fieldwork and lack anyone to talk to about these experiences. My wife does clinical work, part of which includes processing emotions and “transference” with a clinical supervisor or adviser. Anthropologists only get this if they have empathetic advisers and colleagues, which is certainly not guaranteed and, in my discussions with colleagues, may be relatively rare. Even as a professional, when I began setting up a second field site in Costa Rica, a veritable tropical paradise, I often felt alone and exposed and did not particularly enjoy it. By contrast, setting up a new field site in American Samoa (mind you, one that had really been set up in advance by Michaela) was truly pleasurable. I enjoyed every moment of it specifically because we gave each other emotional support while problems were occurring. Because Michaela and I share similar training, the support we could gave was qualified and credible. For instance, when we could not get the interviews in the short time we were there, we were able to remind each other that we were learning actual realistic things about navigating culture and that our process was as or more important for the long term project as was the survey data we were collecting for the short term project. Our sympathetic support of each other meant that we rolled with the frustrations of the field and took things in stride, without reacting in potentially negative ways.

Tuna, crackers, water, and beer we bought for the sua, for the interviews arranged in fagasa.

Tuna, crackers, water, and beer we bought for the sua, for the interviews arranged in Fagasa.

Team research is better research, whether for scientific or humanistic data collection and interpretation. We do both in Samoa. For instance, together Michaela and I constructed a better (though always imperfect nevertheless) survey in a rapid amount of time, complete with translations into Samoan and back-translations to ensure accuracy. It is always difficult to find a balance in survey questions when one is also soliciting native input, as emic and etic biases pull you in different directions. Michaela and I were able to continually confer with each other to ensure that the questions we asked addressed our research questions first and foremost, while remaining sensitive to cultural perspectives. This was particularly important and difficult when asking about condom use, the discussion of which is basically verboten in the Samoas. Furthermore, we were able to discuss the greater vision of our project. Is this 10-year plan that we envision practical? Can we do this? What are our resources? What should we include? Are we on the right track? Regardless of the expertise of one trained individual, two or more trained team members can observe more, have greater vision, and plan better. And, frankly, while we share training, Michaela and I have complementary but slightly different temperaments that enhance our abilities to connect with a variety of people. Finally, it is no coincidence that we follow in the footsteps of Margaret Mead in American Samoa. Mead realized immediately after her first field experience in Ta’o, the island we plan to return to, that fieldwork in the Pacific—and probably everywhere—is better conducted by a team of trained researchers that includes females and males (Shankman 2009).

Michaela meets the First Lady of American Samoa at the Nursing Association Centennial, 7/30/16.

Michaela meets Cynthia Malala Moliga, the First Lady of American Samoa, at the Nurses Association Centennial, 7/30/16.

As I said, Michaela and I  planned to interview men and get their perspectives. We went so far as to buy goods for ritual gift-giving for the sua and Samoan business attire for the occasion. (Michaela had puletasi already, but I needed Hawaiian shirts, which I borrowed from David Herdrich, an ie faitaga [male sewn lavalava in neutral colors, with pockets], and a kukui nut necklace.) However, our trip coincided with the planning and celebration of the American Samoa Nurses Association Centennial, which took place over the last several days we were there and dominated everyone’s time and attention, including ours. Since there were two of us, Michaela focused on refining our social networks to develop leads for later or the next field season, as well as collecting data for a project with Nicky Hawley and Micah van der Ryn on gestational diabetes, while I collected survey data from visitors to the Department of Health Physical Exam, Prenatal Care, and Well Baby Clinics.

In that short time, we made two significant observations. The first is that public health initiatives need medical anthropologists on their teams from the design stage through implementation. This is by no means a novel finding, but it is the first observation specifically with regard to the Zika outbreak. We have written a short commentary on this that is currently in review, but journalist Jessica Carew Kraft recently published an NBC News piece about our work on Zika and the role of culture in American Samoa. Second, according to our data, there is a general consensus among Samoans that prenatal care is more urgent for married mothers than for unmarried mothers, despite believing that all pregnant women should get prenatal care and be screened for Zika. Such attitudes place an additional burden on lower status women and their babies, reinforce social inequities, and play a role in the “biosocial inheritance” of health disparities trans-generationally (see Schell 1992 and 1997 for how risk is focused across multiple generations like this and Hoke and McDade 2014 for a thorough integration of risk-focusing and related models under the theoretical paradigm of “biosocial inheritance”).

Gaualofa Msipili, ??, Michaela Howells, Sivai Miki Kupu, and Chris Lynn at the American Samoa Nurses Association Centennial Celebration, 7/30/16.

With friends at the American Samoa Nurses Association Centennial Celebration, 7/30/16.

Conducting fieldwork with partners with the same professional status does not guarantee safety, but I would like to think it reduces the chances of sexual harassment. There are few ways to guarantee that sexual harassment and assault won’t happen, but there are ways to minimize their potential and it is important to be explicit in addressing them with students. Safety in the field is discussed in most graduate programs but generally with respect to human subject protections and the stability of the site. Less discussed until recent publications by the SAFE team (e.g., Clancy et al 2014) and others is safety with regard to sexual harassment by peers, supervisors, and advisers in the field. While I hoped we were entering a new era of increasing scrutiny within our disciplines of microaggressions that lead to sexual harassment, the U.S. public’s willingness to be represented by President Pussy-Grabber leads me to believe that people really do think there is a problem with so-called “political correctness.” In reality, the backlash against being politically correct is a frustration by those in positions of privilege at the inconvenience of having to consider the feelings of those previously invisible to them. Such microaggressions start with professors or supervisors feeling they can put their arms around undergraduate student shoulders without permission and get worse from there. And it’s not restricted to aggressions by males toward females. When I was an undergrad on a study abroad program in Ecuador, a male professor plied me with whisky and began kissing me. The difference is that I felt brave and protected enough as a white male to tell the program administrators, and they were probably homophobic enough that they fired him immediately with absolutely no process to confirm or check my story (maybe he’d been reported before—I don’t know—but I still feel guilty about this 15 years later).

Fieldwork environments and experiences like the one Michaela and I created become, as a consequence, downright joyous and fun. Working this past summer in American Samoa with a friend and partner with the same training was more exciting than any field experience I’ve had before. Therefore, the work we did was enormously satisfying WHILE we were doing it. This was the type of experience that we tell our students about that inspires them to become anthropologists and the kind we have that validates our own career choice and keep us going. My goal going forward is to purposively create such experiences for my students by being explicit and concrete about how to design research, where to conduct it, how to get support, and how it should feel while doing it. There are no theoretical or methodological reasons to send out any more lone strangers. 


Christopher Lynn (PhD, University at Albany) is an Associate Professor in the Biocultural Medical program and director of the Evolutionary Studies program. He studies the cognitive science of religion, human behavioral ecology, and health in the U.S., Costa Rica, and American Samoa.

Biocultural Systematics is written by members of the University of Alabama Biocultural Medical Anthropology program.

A World Famous African-American Scientist Puts the Presidential Election in Perspective: “I Am Not Surprised At All”

On Wednesday, the day after our 2017 presidential election, I dreaded having to put on my host face to go out to dinner with Dr. Joseph Graves, our ALLELE speaker for Thursday. I couldn’t really stand the thought of talking to anyone. His talk on “Biological determinism in the age of genomics” was supposed to have been anti-climactic after Hillary’s easy sweep. We see how well that went.

Joseph Graves is the first African-American to ever earn a Ph.D. in evolutionary biology and go on to become an evolutionary biologist. Before he came here this week though, I remember wondering if, in the age of Obama, it is important to have any one scientist speak about the race concept over another scientist simply because the one speaking is black (i.e., Jim Bindon, a white male anthropologist who has spent over 30 years teaching about the fallacy of the race concept, does a great job explaining it to me, another white guy; and I, in turn, am therefore fairly at explaining it to other middle class, privileged white people).

But then Tuesday the election happened, and on Wednesday, I picked up Joe Graves for dinner, and he told me how much of a battle his whole career has been merely because he is African-American. He said that, until grad school, he thought his middle name was “Nigger” because he was addressed as such so much. And he said that the results of the presidential election actually didn’t surprise him at all because he sees every day how much 8 years of Obama has made racist America angry.

This left me stupefied. I literally could not talk about any of this at dinner. Instead, I did my best to keep up by talking about the genetics of longevity and senescence and how one goes about studying these using bacteria and nanoparticles. In essence, the daily lived experience of Joe as an African-American scientist was too painful for me because it is now directly affecting me (though that is why I had invited him), so I stuck to talking to him about sports, music, and the minutiae of his day job.

But I was the host for this ALLELE lecture, which meant that I would be introducing Joe to an audience of 200-500 people. It would be a disservice to everyone if I just phoned this one in with my usual blah blah evolutionary studies, blah blah blah thanks to your generous donations, blah blah blah follow us on Twitter. So I wrote the following intro, which I have modified for this blog, because I hope it had more resonance, was worth saying to our audience, and thus is also worth sharing here.

2016-2017 ALLELE series

FIG 1. Alabama Lectures on Life’s Evolution series schedule at the University of Alabama.

“The ALLELE series is in it 11th year. The goal of the ALLELE series is to promote evolution research, education, and outreach in our community.

evolution education fund

FIG. 2. To donate or get involved, please contact Kathy Yarbrough, me, or follow us via our website, Facebook page, or Twitter.

“On the one hand, I’m heartened that our mission is supported by an ever growing community, including several new sponsors that I’ve bolded in red in FIG. 2. But I’m going to save a little time that I’ll spend in another way—instead of telling you all about us, I’m directing you to our website, Facebook page, and Twitter account to learn more.

“On the other hand, we are not a political organization and I don’t purposely talk about politics. I am especially loathe to do so at the moment, but evolution is controversial. And in Alabama, evolution is associated with the “liberal agenda,” making it a political hot potato.

elephants

FIG. 3. The Crimson Tide elephant rolls over our rivals. What will the other elephant in the room do to us?

“So, instead of that usual introduction, I want to start by addressing the elephant in the room (FIG. 3). No, not the Crimson elephant that will roll over Mississippi State this weekend (Roll Tide?) but the one that permeates my consciousness today and likely many of yours.

onion headline

FIG. 4. From The Onion, November 9, 2016 (Vol. 52, Issue 44).

“This is me today (FIG. 4). This week, I find myself historically wrong for the first time in my life. I am devastated by our presidential election. At the cost of sounding melodramatic, it’s pretty close to the feeling that someone close to me who I didn’t expect to lose just died. And I had that experience a few years ago, so I know my reaction hasn’t been quite that extreme, but I think you get my meaning.

“This sense of devastation may surprise those who know me as the child of lower-middle class white liberals from rural Indiana. I grew up accustomed to being on the losing side through many presidential elections and keeping my mouth shut about things like the blatant racism of my classmates and neighbors. But then I fled to liberal New York, where I lived for nearly 20 years before moving to Alabama. But I moved to Alabama to take a decidedly upper-middle class job as a tenure-track professor and start, of all things, an evolutionary studies program.

starting an evos program

FIG. 5. My first blog post for the EvoS Consortium was about the non-event of starting an EvoS program in a conservative start that was obviously not threatened whatsoever.

“People back in New York and Indiana were shocked and awed at the audacity that I would start an evolution program in the Deep South. But, frankly, we encountered almost no impediments. The only rancor to starting our program came from within. There was some political resistance from the natural sciences that a social science department, Anthropology, would house the EvoS program. The only other flare-up worth note, incidentally, was over the topic of tonight’s lecture.

coyne_marks

FIG. 6. Jerry Coyne and Jonathan Marks gave back to back ALLELE lectures my first semester at UA.

“My first semester here, we hosted back-to-back lectures by evolutionary biologist Jerry Coyne and evolutionary anthropologist Jonathan Marks. I liked the Coyne lecture. It was full of information and relatively uncontroversial for those of us who have drunk deeply of the evolution Kool-Aid.

coyne

FIG. 7. Jerry Coyne is essentially a eugenicist, though a revised version.

“But in his blog (FIG. 7), Coyne comes across very differently. Coyne, Rissler, and others support a revised eugenics model which holds the biology of race as comparable to a subspecies.

marks

FIG. 8. Marks gets the genetics right, but he is equally aggressive in his tactics.

“Marks, on the other hand, I sadly missed because of a funeral. However, he got into an argument with the previous EVOWOG chair over eugenics. Marks decidedly does not support that there is any genetic basis to the race concept (FIG. 8) and—paraphrasing—said he would put his foot up the ass of anyone who does.

state science standards

FIG. 10. In 2009, Mead and Mates published a study that scored Alabama as the worst state in the nation at teaching K-12 evolution.

“Outside of this kerfuffle, no one seemed to blink an eye that the flagship state research institution in the state with the anti-evolution disclaimer on texts and the worst K-12 record in the nation for teaching evolution had started a minor in evolutionary studies. This worried me and suggested that we are essentially a non-threat. The results of Tuesday’s presidential election support that, as do Dr. Graves’ comments to me last night at dinner that he is in the minority of people who are not at all surprised by the election results.

rissler paper

FIG. 11. Former EVOWOG chair Leslie Rissler and students surveyed 2999 UA undergrads and found that most had made up their minds about evolution by the time they got here.

“A few years ago, Rissler and colleagues conducted a study here at UA among a sample of nearly 3000 undergrads and found that attitudes about science and evolution are largely set by the time students arrive as freshmen. As you can imagine, this is pretty disconcerting. Two of my goals as an anthropology and an evolution professor are (1), as Jello Biafra so prosaically articulated, to “blow minds for a living” (FIG. 12) and (2) to blow the race concept out of the water. However, the students who enroll in the majority of my courses have largely already decided what they believe and can choose many of their courses accordingly, including whether to take even a single course in anthropology or evolutionary studies.

FIG. 12. I saw Jello Biafra speak at Indiana University when I was a college freshman, and he quite literally blew my mind.

FIG. 12. I saw Jello Biafra speak at Indiana University when I was a college freshman, and he quite literally blew my mind.

“How do we “fix” a system from on high if the slim majority in the influential states (i.e., the big electoral college states) don’t believe it’s broken or don’t believe it’s broken in the same way?

krauss

FIG. 13. Physicist Lawrence Krauss talking to my “Evolution for Everyone” students about how social problems resolve themselves when previous generations die off.

“A few years ago, physicist Lawrence Krauss sat in my class talking to students and answered this same question about fixing society and changing the world. He said, you teach young people and wait for them to grow up, vote, and change the world through a demographic shift (actually, he said, you wait for the previous generation to die).

“I thought that was happening. I still think it’s happening, though I am a privileged white liberal male with a myopic, rose-tinted view of the world. That is clear. But it’s still the only direction I can think of to move in.

family & field

FIG. 14. We are studying the structure of our own discipline and—surprise surprise—we are an economically privileged lot.

“My colleague Michaela Howells and I have been studying our own discipline of anthropology and the dynamics of having a family or not while trying to be or to become a field anthropologist. Our preliminary assessment is that, if you’re born upper-middle class, regardless of race, you are more likely to be successful in your goal of going into anthropology and either postponing having kids or being able to find the resources to get them care while you work. Poor people simply have much less hope or opportunity to go to college, to get an advanced degree, and have a thriving family life.

“So how do we change that?

evo in al

FIG. 15. Our book targets K-16 educators and students with cultural backstory, the demystification of rhetoric, and resources that can be used in the classroom.

“We change that for one by starting at the bottom and educating all kids to be more aware of the possibilities in life and consider their importance. We provide more resources for teachers to teach science correctly and without the inherent anti-scientific bias of disclaimer stickers. FIG. 15 is the table of contents to a book coming out next year based initially on this series that targets K-16 teachers and students. Authors in bold are those who have spoken at UA or are our students or faculty.

race in frats

FIG. 16. Over the past few years, our students have made the national news 2-3 times for the racism of our sorority system. Our fraternity system is no better and is a hot mess of rape culture. And both were implicated in voter fraud that disenfranchised multiple respected school board members in favor of white males whose sole objective is to preserve the status quo.

“As happy and pleased with myself as I am to have invited Dr. Graves here to speak to you tonight, I think whatever we can do to support our K-12 teachers and kids are the most important things we can be doing to improve our world.

“Because this. What does it say to our kids here in Tuscaloosa that we make national news for our racist sorority system or the rape culture of our fraternity system, then go back to business as usual? How do these events seem to make so little impact?

“To improve our culture and our community, we need to start in elementary schools by creating role models and showing kids actual paths they can take to better lives.

graves flyer

FIG. 18. Flyer for Graves’ talk.

“Dr. Graves is the kind of role model we need a lot more of. He is Associate Dean for Research and Professor of Biological Sciences at the Joint School of Nanosciences and Nanoengineering of North Carolina A&T State University and UNC Greensboro. To cherry pick liberally from his NIH biosketch, Dr. Graves is a pioneering African-American evolutionary biologist with over 25 years mentoring underrepresented minority students in biomedical related research at majority and minority-serving institutions.

“His research involves three areas: (1) the genetics/genomics of adaptation, especially with regard to aging in metazoans and anti-microbial resistance to metals in bacteria, (2) the biological impact of engineered nanomaterials in bacteria, and (3) evolutionary medicine, especially as relevant to health disparities and biological conceptions of race in humans. He has published over 80 papers and book chapters and appeared in seven documentary films and numerous television programs on these topics.

books

FIG. 19. Joseph Graves has written two books and numerous articles on the race concept.

“His books on the biology of race are entitled The Emperor’s New Clothes: Biological Theories of Race at the Millennium and The Race Myth: Why We Pretend Race Exists in America, both of which are on sale here tonight. A summary of Dr. Grave’s research career can be found on Wikipedia, and he is also featured in the ABC-CLIO volume on Outstanding African-American scientists. And the list very much goes on.

sin article

FIG. 20. Published in Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science (Vol. 661, No. 1).

“As I’m sure you’ve gathered, the title of tonight’s talk is “Great is Their Sin: Biological Determinism in the Age of Genomics,” which is based on this paper (FIG. 20) he published last year in Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science.

“And so, without any further ado, I present to you, Dr. Joseph L. Graves, Jr.”

This post originally appeared on the “Trancing, Tattoos, Religion, and Sex: Cheap Thrills through Evolution” blog at EvoS Studies.

Building professional social networks through the American Anthropological Association annual meeting

A few years ago, I’d all but decided I wasn’t going to go to the American Anthropological Association main conference anymore. This was the year it was in San Francisco (111th Annual Meeting, 2012). Ironically, that was a memorable conference. I had several good meals in the Vietnamese neighborhood nearby (it was hosted in the Tenderloin—mm, bahn mis), was part of a great neuroanthropology session convened by Daniel Lende and Greg Downey (and out of which, ultimately, a publication about my lab’s teaching model came out in Anthropology Now), met Sonya Pritzker, who we ultimately wooed to Alabama to become a faculty member in my department, and spent at least two whole days walking around and exploring San Francisco with Max Stein and my best friend from graduate school, Courtney Kurlanska (Courtney likes to remind me about how it appeared that I was courteously pulling her out of the rain when in fact I was pulling her into a spot where I could see the a football game across a street through a sports bar window in which a bizarre set of losses actually led to Alabama getting back into the BCS Championship game to beat LSU).

Among the joys of anthropology, traveling, & conferencing is food, natch. Dinner at The Bachelor Farmer, Mpls, MN. Photo by Michaela Howells.

Among the joys of anthropology, traveling, & conferencing is food, natch. Dinner at The Bachelor Farmer, Mpls, MN. Photo by Michaela Howells.

My main complaint was that there were not enough biocultural anthropology talks or sessions or things where I obviously felt like I fit in. What I failed to recognize was that I was already doing the things these conferences are really for—building my network. But then the next year in Chicago, there were several big biocultural sessions that I felt spoke to me, and Katie MacKinnon, Julienne Rutherford, Robin Nelson, and others reached out to me as a fellow Tweeter and blogger and made me feel welcome. I realized I’d found my people, and things clicked. I’m now going the other direction and trying to get MORE involved in the organization to promote the need for the AAA to better represent four-fieldness, and I feel like part of a cohort of others doing the same.

AAA 2016 Roomies: Marc Kissel, Michaela Howells, Chris Lynn. Photo by Michaela Howells.

AAA 2016 Roomies: Marc Kissel, Michaela Howells, Chris Lynn. Photo by Michaela Howells.

This year, the meeting was held in Minneapolis, MN, and I attended Wednesday, 11/16 through Sunday, 11/20. I shared a room with Michaela Howells and Marc Kissel, who are on the executive committee for the Biological Anthropology Section (BAS) of the AAA. So I tagged along with them to as many events as possible and tried to insinuate myself. Agustin Fuentes has been chosen as chair of next year’s AAA meeting and determined the theme to be “Anthropology Matters” and hosted a get-together in his suite to gather ideas. I think anthropologists have often felt embattled, but for the past 8 years, we have had a U.S. president whose mother was an anthropologist (I shared a bit on this a few weeks ago). I felt the anthropological perspective was implicit in Obama’s worldview and approach to politics and leadership. However, that has changed dramatically (and painfully), and there is urgency to explicitly demonstrate our relevance. The world does need us, and we need to articulate why.

In the Anthropology Dept at the University of Alabama, Lynn Funkhouser and I have developed a fantastic elementary (and middle) school outreach program at Alabama that conveys why anthropology matters. The opportunity to convey an anthropological perspective and influence humans to think about and appreciate diversity is most salient when they are young, before they self-select (in part) for their post-secondary lives. We rarely reach these kids, so most anthropological perspective is taught to largely upper middle-class white kids who go to college and chose to take anthropology courses (and the same is true of evolution courses, since this blog is about evolution—though evolution is one of the foundational theories of anthropology, so when I talk about anthropology, I imply evolution as well). Lynn and I and our students and colleagues have developed a model for teaching anthropology to elementary school students that we administer through a service-learning course to a few local schools, which we’ve received Wenner Gren funding to expand and just published an article about in Annals of Anthropological Practice.

BASAA executive committee dinner that I was allowed to tag along to (thanks, Michaela!). Clockwise from left: Marc Kissel (not pictured---sorry, I couldn't back up enough & clipped you), Rachel Caspari, Milford Wolfpoff, Cathy Willermet, Sang-Hee Lee, Jim McKenna, Andrea Eller, Jim's wife (sorry! name escapes), Melanie Beasley, Karen Rosenberg, Agustin Fuentes, Michaela Howells. Dinner at 102 Eatery.

BASAA executive committee dinner that I was allowed to tag along to (thanks, Michaela!). Clockwise from left: Marc Kissel (not pictured—sorry, I couldn’t back up enough & clipped you), Rachel Caspari, Milford Wolfpoff, Cathy Willermet, Sang-Hee Lee, Jim McKenna, Andrea Eller, Joanne Mack, Melanie Beasley, Karen Rosenberg, Agustin Fuentes, Michaela Howells. Dinner at 102 Eatery.

I was pleased to be able to share our ideas for next year’s conference and to have them so well received. The next day, these ideas came up at an executive lunch and then again at the business meeting, which was open to all members. Agustin, Michaela, and Marc urged me to share our programs ideas in more detail with the entire BAS membership in attendance, which, again, was well received (and also includes the upcoming Kids Evolutionary Perspectives Society pre-conference!). I talked to BAS president Rachel Caspari and BAS web manager Andrea Eller about it in more detail during the reception and to others about coordinating an executive session (contact us if you’re interested or have ideas!). Afterward, I was lucky to be invited to join the executive committee for dinner afterward and discuss these things further, as well as catch up on shared interests and hear several fantastic war stories from Milford Wolfpoff, Jim McKenna, Karen Rosenberg, Agustin, Michaela, and others (Sang-Hee Lee took several good photos that she posted to the BASAA Facebook group, which I encourage y’all to join).

On Wednesday, between these events, was a humbling interjection by keynote Melissa Harris Perry. She is not an anthropologist, but I think that’s good, as we needed some outside voice to give us a shake, I think. Or me. I needed a shake. The message I took away was, ‘White liberals, stop acting so surprised about the election. If anyone had bothered to do a cross-tabulation of female voters in the U.S., you would know that white women vote Republican. Why would the revelation that Trump is a pussy-grabber cause them to change their minds? The only surprise was that Trump got caught on camera saying it. The reality is that almost every woman in the world has had her pussy grabbed and had to deal with it because it’s behavior we all ignore or perpetrate. Many women are married or related to pussy-grabbing men and protect them and apologize for or defend their behavior on a daily basis. We’ve probably all grabbed a pussy, ass, or boob without permission. What does our culture imply about this? That it’s OK. It’s not, but we’re all reacting instead of acting.’ Oof. But yeah.

On Thursday, I was supposed to have lunch with Sidney Greenfield, whose wonderful book Spirits with Scalpels is one of the best sources out there related to the neuroanthropological work I do. Unfortunately, he wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t attend the meetings at all, but he asked me to chair a session, show two short films, and read a paper for him for the Society for Senior Anthropologists. The session was on the work of Phil Singer and Greenfield and their efforts to document the process and thoughts of anthropologists who are over 80 years old about their impending death. Although it sounds rather heavy and macabre, it wasn’t. The overarching theme was that people don’t necessarily become preoccupied with thinking about or preparing for their own deaths—most of them seem to continue thinking about work and anthropology all the way till the end. Though a few of the interviewees had recently died, including Phil Singer, which added a sobering element to the session, the message overall was very validating and hopeful. I was glad I could be part of it.

There were several other highlights of the conference that I’ll highlight with Tweets and photos, but I will also summarize them here. I met a few prospective graduate students, which is exciting, as I need to replace the amazing work Max Stein has been doing in my lab. Max is the lead author on another AAP paper that just came out about how we do things (in an excellent special issue compiled by Toni Copeland and Francois Dengah), and he has been instrumental as lab and project manager this year. But he should soon have his PhD in hand and be ‘out there,’ as it were, hopefully with a job in hand (or you should be contacting him if you have a biocultural position opening, because he is awesome).

A row of excellent mustaches and shoes. Photo courtesy Michaela Howells.

A row of excellent mustaches and shoes . Photo courtesy Michaela Howells.

Courtney and I had our annual date (though I missed last year because my grandmother died and I was at her funeral), but we forgot to get a selfie together! We hung with some other UAlbany alumni, braved the yucky Mpls. snow (OK, it melted in a half hour, but I was only wearing canvas shoes) to go have dinner at a local Vietnamese place (with, apparently, everyone else attending the conference), then met up with Francois Dengah and Max Stein for a bit more hanging before calling it an evening. In the process, I realized what The Replacements song “Skyway” was about, after walking through it for several days. Perhaps two other people in attendance appreciated my revelation.

Over the course of Friday and Saturday there were three excellent biocultural sessions convened by Morgan Hoke, including one in which Michaela presented on our work this past summer in American Samoa. In the middle of that, Sonya and I convened a session on biocultural anthropology and linguistics with us, Daniel Lende, Avery McNeece, Mandy Guitar and Sabina Perrino with Jim Wilce and Carol Worthman as discussants.

I thought it went great. Sonya says the editor of Ethos is interested in a special issue about the session. I met a few people with further interest in the work, including Josh Brahinsky, a postdoc in Tanya Luhrmann’s group. We talked after about future collaboration possibilities, which I find exciting. Then there was a BAS-sponsored networking workshop for students organized by Michaela (great photos of that event here) that I was supposed to participate in, but I went to the Zika Interest Group and Roundtables instead, to make sure Michaela and I could get involved with that for our work in American Samoa. Those were VERY helpful.

I also met with several publishers while there to pitch the book I’ll be writing while on sabbatical next semester. It was disheartening but not surprising to hear how much marketing considerations want us to narrow our focus and put us in boxes, while in the biocultural sessions there was explicit commentary on breaking down disciplinary boundaries. After working in music distribution and schlepping music to stores by appeal to genres, this is an obvious intersection of idealism and logistic practicality. However, I do feel that if the AAA wants to represent itself as four-field, the book editors’ narrow focus on cultural anthropology is a BIG problem.

Despite the issue with editors, I got some good books in the book room on the premise that I might someday teach a course that might someday use this or that book. On the other hand, Michaela got this excellent bib, modeled here by her anthro dog extraordinaire Uli, which she sent me when I asked her for relevant photos.

Despite the issue with editors, I got some good books in the book room on the premise that I might someday teach a course that might someday use this or that book. On the other hand, Michaela got this excellent bib, modeled here by her anthro dog extraordinaire Uli, which she sent me when I asked her for relevant photos.

For us, the conference wrapped up with an unfortunately unpublicized and, thus, underattended talk by Frans de Waal. It was mostly the same talk I’ve seen previously, but he’s still one of the best ALLELE lectures we’ve ever had and does a great job articulating a clear message to educated lay audiences and selling a compelling idea about human empathy.

This post originally appeared at on the EvoS Studies blog: Cheap Thrills through Evolution.

Family Matters: We Talk the Talk, but Do We Walk the Walk?

Diversity is Our Business1: We Talk the Talk, but do we Walk the Walk?,2

Plain fear of not being able to support these guys drove me like a plow horse thru grad school. Cute though, aren't they? Lux, Jagger, and Bailey Lynn at NY's AMNH in 2008 (Photo courtesy author).

Plain fear of not being able to support these guys drove me like a plow horse thru grad school. Cute though, aren’t they? Lux, Jagger, and Bailey Lynn at NY’s AMNH in 2008 (Photo courtesy author).

As academic anthropologists, my colleagues and I talk diversity all the time, but it refers to more than heritage, socioeconomic status, or gender. Jo Weaver and I have convened a session at the upcoming AAA conference about “Problems and Priorities in Biocultural Research” (see Jo’s summary in last month’s AN column), but our session is really as much about diversity as it is bringing non-research design-related issues to the fore. What other biases influence who can become an anthropologist? What if I am reliant on medication to stabilize my mood and that medication is poorly understood and my dose-response is sensitive to environmental change? Do I risk going abroad away from my support system to do fieldwork? Do I even bring this issue up with my advisers when I am applying for or in graduate school? Or do I just avoid field-based anthropology or drop out of my program? In another scenario, what if my own experiences of trauma are triggered by the culture shock of going abroad or trauma I witness in the field and I shut down emotionally? Do I fess up to my adviser that I’m in psychological turmoil?3 These may seem like clear-cut examples of issues fairly likely to occur among students of anthropology4, but when are they ever brought up and directly addressed in classes or advisement?

Similarly though perhaps more banal, when is a student ever given to permission to say ‘I love anthropology and I want to go to ___, but I have children and I could not emotionally handle being away from them’? This was an issue I faced. My children are triplets. They’re 12 years old now, but they were 1 when I started graduate school. Balancing children and a career is not easy for anyone, but what if your chosen vocation traditionally involves traveling great distances away for long periods of time? This is a stereotype in anthropology, but I have been surprised by the students and professionals whose expectations reflect this notion.5

Ann Dunham was a role model for me as an anthropologist who took her son with her to conduct fieldwork (Barack Obama with stepdad, mother, and half-sister; US Embassy, Jakarta, CC BY-ND 2.0)

Ann Dunham was a role model for me as an anthropologist who took her son with her to conduct fieldwork (Barack Obama with stepdad, mother, and half-sister; US Embassy, Jakarta, CC BY-ND 2.0)

Let me be clear—no one in my graduate program told me I needed to leave my family behind to become a real anthropologist. I did my fieldwork in, essentially, my own backyard (which comes with difficulties I wrote about for AN in 2008); and I received NSF funding to do it. But my wife and I made ends meet by the skin of our teeth.6 We lived 1 hours 40 minutes away from campus for the first few years so we’d be near family who could help take care of our children while I fulfilled my obligations as a graduate teaching assistant, took classes, and cloistered myself to get work done.7 I recall asking NSF Cultural Anthropology Program Director Deb Winslow and my advisers if could I use my grant money to pay living expenses? The financial and moral support I got for research was great, but my major expense was the cost of buying salivary cortisol kits and sending them out to be assayed. To save money and build up my skill set, I learned to assay them myself from Jason Paris in Cheryl Frye’s Biopsychology Lab at UAlbany instead of paying to send them out, saving around $9,000. Meanwhile, I had three toddlers at home, and taking care of them was a full time job, which left nothing for rent.8 As you can imagine, a graduate teaching assistantship stipend does not really cover expenses for a family of 5.  Answer: We sympathize but, no, NSF funds can’t be used to cover rent unless it is for living somewhere else, where one doesn’t usually live, to do fieldwork at a distance from the usual home. And federal funding can only cover that expense for the researcher.

Not much has changed since I’ve become a tenured professor. I will admit that, although I love anthropology, one of my motivations in pursuing biological anthropology was a mistaken notion that biological know-how would get me paid better.9 But I also looked around at professors with kids and saw the wonderful experience and perspective this life provides to children of anthropologists. One of my advisors, Walter Little, would often take his daughter to Guatemala with him when he conducted fieldwork. I thought, ‘that is the life I want for my children.’ They’ll learn to speak Spanish early enough that it’s not a chore and have an invaluable worldliness (like our President—ahem, raised in a unique family situation by an anthropologist mother). But what I’ve learned is that there is little money out there to support a family while doing fieldwork. We must pay their fares out of pocket if we take them with us. So here my kids are, 12 years old, and they’ve still never left the country. Heck, I think even I had been to Canada by the time I was their age.

What We Know about Family-Career Balances of Anthropologists

I was loathe to talk to my professors about the stresses of supporting my family while going to graduate school. They didn’t have to hear that from other students, I imagined. But I had to. My very first semester, one of my sons was hospitalized for dehydration because of persistent diarrhea caused by an intestinal bug. Not a month later, during finals week, another bug hit the household and took everyone down. Because I saw it coming, I had outlined my answers to our take-home final. When the virus finally got me, everyone else in my house was down for the count and could not so much as get me a glass of water. But I still had one essay to write that was due the next day. I faded in and out of consciousness through the night transforming each outline fragment into a sentence and adding a few qualifiers. It’s probably the worst essay I’ve ever written and it got me a dreaded B (like a D in grad school), but, under the circumstances, it was good enough. As I recovered slightly, I tried to go back to work only to get a call from my wife that one of the kids was vomiting again. Because there was a bug in the house, neither the mother’s helpers we’d hired nor my wife’s family wanted to come in and help out for fear of catching it. But taking care of three sick toddlers was too much for any one person to handle. It pained me, but I explained my situation to my adviser, Larry Schell, and his response has always stayed with me. He said, “No one ever says on their deathbed that they wish they’d spent more time with at work. It’s always that they wish they’d spent more time with their family.”

Family is hard to manage. School is hard to manage. Work is hard to manage. This is life. No one wants to tell their professor or adviser or boss that work or school is putting a strain on their marriage, but we know that many marriages break up over issues like these (the literature on this is huge—this is in no way unique to anthropologists or people who do fieldwork for a living). Stress, as Gary Evans pointed out in a guest lecture at UAlbany when I was in grad school, is not necessarily about having a life full of stressors—it’s often about not having a buffer when there are stressors one is not expecting or has not planned for. I always refer to a poem by Charles Bukowski called “The Shoelace,” which refers simply to the last straw, when you’re dealing with “…roaches or flies or a broken hook on a screen, or out of gas or too much gas, the sink’s stopped-up, the landlord’s drunk, the president doesn’t care and the governor’s crazy. light switch broken mattress like a porcupine; $105 for a tune-up, carburetor and fuel pump at sears roebuck; and the phone bill’s up and the market’s down and the toilet chain is broken, and the light has burned out – the hall light, the front light, the back light, the inner light; it’s darker than hell and twice as expensive…”10

Table 1. Work-life balance. Males and females appear roughly equal in their work-life balance, whether they have kids or not. But what do we know about the choices made between parenthood and careers in anthropology?

Table 1. Work-life balance. Males and females appear roughly equal in their work-life balance, whether they have kids or not. But what do we know about the choices made between parenthood and careers in anthropology?

So the culture of academia (not just anthropology) makes balancing parenthood and fieldwork difficult, but how is that biocultural? As Jason DeCaro points out in previous posts for our blog (here and here), biological theory is implicit in studies of family and human development. But let me spell it out in a different way, one I alluded to above. There are certain notions about maternal investment in children that give moms a (justifiable) pass when it comes to saying, ‘I can’t do that because I have to think about my kids.’ And we applaud fathers who do the same (e.g., Joe Biden [maybe], sports athletes). But while there are few institutional accommodations for things like maternity leave, there are even fewer for paternity. I am not crying foul. I’m saying, ‘I love my children so much that it hurts me to leave them behind while I do fieldwork, and it is emotionally hard to handle.’ As you can imagine, I’m a big fan of Peter Gray and Kermyt Anderson‘s Fatherhood: Evolution and Human Paternal Patterns and work by Lee Gettler and others on the hormonal physiology of fatherhood. There is a real physiological change when we become fathers. I want us to think about this diversity more, talk about it more, and support diverse family models and needs more.

Study: Family and the Field

To wrap up and tease you for our November talk and future conferences and papers, these experiences inspired a study I started with my friend and UNCW assistant anthropology professor Michaela Howells this past summer called “Family and the Field.” I was primarily interested in the experiences of fathers and wondered if attitudes, experiences, and paternal investment by anthropologists has changed over the years. However, Michaela pointed out that the whole paradigm of parenting and family is interesting and understudied among anthropologists (but not by anthropologists). We don’t know the answers to questions like, if you want to have a bunch of kids and don’t want to leave them behind to do fieldwork, do you just choose another discipline? Or, do you forego having children for a period of time to complete graduate work and any major field studies? There’s not a lot of data on this within our discipline that we’ve been able to find (but encourage readers to send us sources if we’re wrong).

Our study is preliminary, using an internet paradigm, and hope to follow up in the near future by being able to conduct more intensive interviews. (Perhaps we will be cornering you, dear reader, at next year’s AAA!) So far, as Table 1 shows, we’ve collected data from over 350 anthropologists, nearly 85 of whom are males, and 31 of whom are fathers (mean age = 43.3, SD = 9.33). Of these fathers, 18 self-report their life-work balance as poor or acceptable, while 13 report it as good or excellent. Average perceived stress among these fathers is 33.6 (SD = 1.38), which is consistent with the full sample (33.1, SD = 2.51) (This study is still recruiting professionals and graduate students trained in anthropology, so please consider participating).

In sum, do we structurally bias our training system to undermine some types of diversity in our field? And, what do we really know about diversity, if indeed it is our business. Join us in Denver for “Hidden motivations and glossed justifications” Problems and priorities in biocultural field research” on Thursday, November 19, 4-5:45 PM to explore these questions.


NOTES

1. Anthropologist Ulf Hannerz (2010) writes convincingly about the identity problem anthropology has, that we need PR help in cultivating what is essentially “brand identity,” and that identity should be diversity—“diversity is our business.” See Greg Downey’s Neuroanthropology piece for further discussion of this (and where I learned about Hannerz’ article). Incidentally, another piece by Hannerz that addresses the identity we as individual anthropologists create for ourselves also appeals to me. “Confessions of a Hoosier Anthropologist” (2014) outlines how Hannerz works, though he is Swedish and has spent his career at Stockholm University, was marked by the year he spent as a Master’s student at Indiana University. Folks from Indiana and who go to IU are known as “Hoosiers.” Just among the Biocultural Medical faculty here at UA, Jo Weaver and I are both Hoosiers by birth and upbringing, and Keith Jacobi and I are Hoosiers by education. Funny. Ha ha.

2. “You talk the talk. Do you walk the walk?” is a quote by Animal Mother from the classic 1987 Stanley Kubrick film Full Metal Jacket.

3. These will be among the topics to some extent addressedat our November 2015 AAA session by, respectively, Eileen Anderson-Fye, Rebecca Lester, and others.

4. In 2011, the CDC reported that 1 in 10 people in the U.S. age 12 and over (11%) surveyed from 2005-08 were taking antidepressant medication. The youngest among those are college-age now. I don’t have a citation handy, but we have estimated that as many as half of our undergraduates in anthropology at any given moment are taking anti-anxiety or anti-depressant medication.

5. The criteria that render one a ‘Real Anthropologist’ would be a great blog topic, but I will save that for another time.

6. Actually, it was the skin of creditors’ teeth, and we have massive student loan debt as a consequence.

7. I rose at 5 AM most days to make the drive and would be so sleepy, I’d lay down in the shower to get a few minutes more rest and ensure I didn’t fall back to sleep. I was such a regular at the New Baltimore rest stop Starbuck’s on NYS I-87 that they began giving me the “Trucker Discount,” which later became free coffee. I’d hear employees whisper, “he gets a free coffee” as I walked up, so that by the time I finished grad school, the manager who had started this gratuitous gesture was gone and current staff had no idea who I was, just that I merited free coffee for some reason.

8. Either my wife or I needed to stay home or whatever money she earned working covered the cost of childcare [barely] and that’s it.

9. I am the first generation in my family to finish college, let alone go to grad school, let alone become a college professor. So what did I know? Nothing. That’s what I knew. Similarly, another mistaken notion was that my kids would get free tuition wherever I worked.

10. One of my sons was taking lots of photos during one of these periods for me and caught me in a moment when I was working as a GTA at Albany, teaching a course as instructor of record at Marist College, finishing data collection for my dissertation, writing my dissertation, and interviewing for jobs all at the same time. It seems like a lot, right? It was, but that was OK because I accepted those stressors knowingly. It was after getting t-boned in my Prius by a tractor-trailer that I broke down. I wasn’t injured, the truck driver took full responsibility, and my car was fully fixed by insurance; but that extra thing was more than I could handle at that moment.

Cheap Thrills and Elementary Anthropology

For the lay person, such as myself, the main evidence of a problem is the simple fact that ethnographic writing tends to be surprisingly boring. How, one asks constantly, could such interesting people doing such interesting things produce such dull books?”

I came to anthropology through journalism but wanted to do the research and be one of the popularizers. Yet, I soon realized many popularizations are not written by anthropologists, whose work is too jargon-filled for public consumption. I have heard from colleagues opposed to such public anthropology that the complexity of culture is poorly represented through public renderings, but sometimes a sufficiently complex representation is too complex to be easily understood.

I suggest a two-pronged means of dealing with this seemingly de facto problem with anthropology. We can and need to start teaching children anthropology earlier so they can developmentally build their understanding of human cultural complexity, and we should help them build up their understanding by making real anthropology experience accessible and interesting.

Anthropology is Elementary (and Primary)
What will undergraduate education be like when our students show up having had anthropology since they were in 3rd grade? How sophisticated will public understandings be? Will otherwise intelligent people make quips that we write boring books once they understand them as a matter of course because they are simply better educated in anthropology? Yes, I see the glass half-full sometimes, but I have also heard a 4th grade child explain developmental origins of adult disease theory better than some graduate students.The Department of Anthropology at the University of Alabama is teaching children anthropology earlier through a course called “Anthropology is Elementary.” This course, taught by graduate students, trains our upper-level undergraduates to teach anthropology in partnership with local elementary and middle schools. We have developed this approach over several years and been humbled by the capacity of children as young as 8-years-old to learn what we had thought too complex for them. We began with a general four-field course one semester per year and have expanded to “Anthropology of Costa Rica” in the fall and “Anthropology of Madagascar” in the spring. Each course covers garbology, museum interpretation, symbolic communication, cultural relativism and diffusion, primatology, human evolution, Mendelian genetics and race, and forensics. Additionally, undergraduate instructors develop new lessons and activities each semester.

Author Chris Lynn, doctoral student Max Stein, and Tuscaloosa Magnet School Elementary students demonstrate tongue-rolling, a Mendelian trait. Photo courtesy Virgil Roy Beasley III

Author Chris Lynn, doctoral student Max Stein, and Tuscaloosa Magnet School Elementary students demonstrate tongue-rolling, a Mendelian trait. Photo courtesy Virgil Roy Beasley III

What will undergraduate education be like when our students show up having had anthropology since they were in 3rd grade? I want to be able to go deeper than the gloss of nature versus nurture before they get to college while keeping anthropology interesting to the general public.

Another means to overcome the so-called dull barrier is simply to keep anthropology accessible. While local archaeology field schools are common, it’s important to develop biocultural research opportunities that are available to students by which to reinforce the early training I mentioned in the last section. It is doubly important to validate that this research is real. Several of our faculty and students have conducted local projects that create opportunities to integrate undergraduates and collaborative publishing. A few decades ago, Bill Dresslerconducted one of the seminal studies in the cultural consonance approach, studying the influence of discrimination stress and structural violence on depression of African-Americans in Tuscaloosa, a study doctoral student Lessye DeMoss is planning to update for her dissertation work. More recently, Kathy Oths studied the local farmers’ markets in conjunction with student researchers, investigating the intersection between the culture of the green movement and the nutritional impacts of fresh fruits and vegetables.

Students Ashley Daugherty, Caitlin Baggett, and Linnea Moran conduct an assessment at Head Start. Photo courtesy Sarah Elizabeth Morrow

Students Ashley Daugherty, Caitlin Baggett, and Linnea Moran conduct an assessment at Head Start. Photo courtesy Sarah Elizabeth Morrow

Jason DeCaro and collaborators received a grant last year to assess the efficacy of Head Start in Tuscaloosa County. This biocultural study integrates student researchers from across our university. In the fall 2014 semester alone, according to graduate coordinator Sarah Morrow, they involved over 100 undergraduate researchers in the project.

I train undergraduates in neuroanthropology by involving them simultaneously in multiple projects coordinated by graduate students, some of which focus on ethnographic methods while others are more social psychological in nature. The goal of this approach is to provide students breadth of exposure through projects that are catchy. For instance, master’s student Johnna Dominguez recently defended a biocultural thesis on the social and immunological impacts of tattooing among southern women. Graduate student April Boatwright is collecting qualitative data about fireside behavior to complement physiological data we have assembled over the past several years. Juliann Friel is assisting in studying the influence of evolution education on emotional physiology. Andrew Bishop, now a Ph.D. student at Arizona State, assisted me in a social study of religious-commitment signaling in churches. Jonathan Belanich, currently at Mississippi State, has been helping with a study of self-deception and mating success. Perhaps most attention-grabbing, Erica Schumann integrated training in animal behavior and human sexuality to test a hypothesis about cunnilingus by watching bonobos at the Fort Worth Zoo.

Involving undergraduates in research is certainly not unique, but many of these experiences would be lost to posterity if there were not publishing opportunities. The quality of undergraduate training experiences are significantly enhanced through them submitting work to journals like JOSHUA: The Journal of Science and Health at the University of Alabama, EvoS Journal, andNEXUS: The Canadian Student Journal of Anthropology. These peer-reviewed, undergraduate journals provide invaluable services to the discipline by enabling students to hone their skill sets and take greater pride in their work.

This emphasis on pre-undergraduate and undergraduate development will enhance the anthropological perspective of the general public and make the complexity of culture more comprehensible.

This post originally appeared in Anthropology News‘ June 2015 “Knowledge Exchange.”

“Bioculturalism”–An Interview with Christopher Lynn [reposted from Somatosphere]

This article is part of the series: 

This series aims to get anthropologists and closely-related others talking seriously, and thinking practically, about how to synergize biological and social scientific approaches to human health and well-being, and to what positive ends. In this interview, Christopher Lynn responds to questions posed by series organizer Jeffrey G. Snodgrass.

 

How and why might cultural anthropologists and social scientists interested in health benefit from integrating biological variables/biomarkers into their research and analysis?

Cultural anthropologists and other social scientists interested in health shouldbe interested in some objective indication of health status as reflective, at least in part, of physiological status. I don’t feel health issues have been sufficiently addressed if they are not approached integratively in this way. That is not to say that all my projects have gotten there yet or that biomarkers are always necessary in all health-oriented research, but without at least an accompanying biological perspective, any interpretation is lacking. One way of taking an integrated perspective and including biomarkers where feasible and informative is through basing research and data analysis in Tinbergen’s four “Why” questions. This ethological approach lends itself to participation as well as observation and recommends that we examine behavior (1) historically (culturally and phylogenetically), (2) developmentally (what is the role of age, maturity, family, expectations of those stages?), (3) functionally (physiologically or functionalist-ly), and (4) proximally (psychological cause-effect).

I guess that’s viewing it from the biological side and seeing culture as critical rather than vice versa. I don’t see that there’s any way around me seeing things through the lens of a biological anthropologist, but it’s important to note that this is distinct from how biologists often utilize ethology and Tinbergen, which often lacks awareness of cultural relativity. I started off as a cultural anthropologist in my undergraduate education (literally, I majored only in Cultural Anthropology through an interdisciplinary program), then gravitated to Biological Anthropology because all the questions I asked about health and humanness simply required a better understanding of biological processes. Upon completing my PhD, I think I’ve moved back to a middle ground where the specific questions I ask and stage of research I’m at dictate whether what I look at takes more of a cultural or biological form. Honestly, it’s just anthropology, but I do feel obliged to make distinctions because it is infinitely confusing to students when we seem to call ourselves one thing and do another.

However, biological perspective does not necessarily mean biomarkers. Biomarkers are kind of like the fMRI of biocultural anthropology, at least among students in my department’s Biocultural Medical Anthropology program. They are something students with a cultural bent seem to throw on to show they’re being biocultural, and such proposals tend to look like pigs with chickens stapled to their backs. On the other hand, students who come from a biological background do the same thing with the cultural consonance approach. Bill Dressler has written extensively on this happy wedding of the biological as integral to the cultural in terms of health outcomes, so I won’t rehash but rather direct readers to the new Biocultural Systematics blog on our Bama Anthro Blog Network that will soon also be published via Anthropology News. Yet biomarkers are useful, and there are numerous ways to include them to test claims made through interviews or interpretations of survey data. Biomarkers can be easy to use and unobtrusive even for the relatively untrained, especially in the era of ubiquitous smartphones. For instance, on the “high-tech” side, Francois Dengah (who has a PhD from the University of Alabama in biocultural medical anthropology and is now an Assistant Professor at Utah State) and I have been working toward integrating low-cost skin conductance and heart rate sensors that plug into Android and Apple tablets and smartphones and interface with free apps. On the other hand, Greg Batchelder, a PhD student currently working with me, plans to collect blood pressure and hair samples to measure cortisol among the Bribrí in a remote area of Costa Rica lacking electricity.

 

How would you respond directly to one potential cultural anthropological or social scientific critique of such an integrative “biocultural” approach?

One of the common critiques of anything done from a biological perspective is that it tends to be reductionistic. Especially with regard to health-related research, we focus on outcomes and are in danger of missing the trees for the forest. In my studies of dissociative behavior, I’m sensitive to the frustration of some scholars who are wary of the use of generalizing ethnologic terminology, such as “shamanism,” “possession,” “trance,” etc. This is especially true when we researchers with cross-cultural bents try to discuss function. For instance, I would be leery of saying something like, the function of dissociation — the partitioning of awareness we see in possession trance, dissociative disorders, and so many other psycho-cultural contexts — is to reduce stress. We have to be cognizant of referring to biological capacities, cognitive capacities, and look at how psychosociocultural influences interact with such capacities to influence myriad outcomes. The suggestion of function tends to suggest to readers that we think there is a cognitive module or evolved trait or something that is universal, and this is not necessarily true or what is meant. But to think that readers will not read into our use of the term would be naive. However, we do need some conceptual terms to hang our hats on, even if there is no unity in underlying biology. Suggesting that all people have varying capacities for dissociation does not mean there is a dissociation module in the brain or that even the same neural circuits are invoked.

It’s important that critique be constructive and that we take our colleagues’ concerns about our approaches to heart. My policy is that the more a criticism bothers me, the more I need to think about what relevant criticism I might be steamrolling over in my approach. I take critique to heart more than I do praise (which sucks for my self-esteem, unfortunately). There are ways we can, as I so often say to students, throw the bathwater out without chucking babies. One of my favorite integrations of this nature is Carol Worthman’s development of the concept of embodiment. The theory of embodiment came into usage as a way to appreciate what to me seemed an inherent appreciation of the biological but without clear articulation of biological outcomes in the phenomenological works referencing or invoking this term. Worthman, especially in a 1999 piece in the edited volume Biocultural Approaches to the Emotions, outlined clearly that we biologically embody aspects of our local environment, that we embody our environment of development as we grow up, and that we vary in our responses to hardships in ways that influence our health. As I stated previously, without this context — which speaks directly to Boasian historical particularism — analyses of culture are lacking.

 

What is one potential caution you’d have for cultural anthropologists or social scientists considering a biocultural approach?

Hmm, you should probably ask this of a cautious person. It’s important to be sensitive about collecting biological data. Simply put, people are distrustful and with good reason. For many of our research participants — whether from “developed” or “Westernized” cultures or not — there is a bit of sympathetic magic associated with giving up pieces of you. As Frazer taught us all, cultures throughout the world associate personal power with hair, names, fingernail clippings, blood, saliva, etc. To give these away gives away power. It has never been articulated this way to me, but I have had participants concerned that, in collecting their saliva to measure cortisol, I would do something with their DNA. Another participant in my study of speaking in tongues among Pentecostals was concerned that I would misinterpret her data. She had eight of her own children and ran a home school, frequently felt very stressed, and was concerned that her potentially high levels of cortisol would make God look bad (i.e., as though her relationship with Him was not bringing her any peace or sanity). In my research, navigating the terrain of fundamentalist Christianity to measure biomarkers requires a fair amount of finesse that came rather naturally to me, I’d like to think, because of my cultural anthropology training. On the other hand, because of the widespread familiarity with biomedicine and the normative nature of providing urine and blood samples, many of my participants in that study, surprisingly, were less concerned about the saliva sampling than some of the questions in the survey I used.

Other than that, the previous issue I mentioned — simply tacking a biomarker onto a cultural study or vice versa — is the biggest problem I have encountered. It is important to meaningfully integrate the biological and the cultural in biocultural research. I see cultural factors as driving research design in terms of how and what biological data are collected and biological issues as driving a necessary investigation of cultural variation. They should not seem as though they are two independent studies using the same sample, as they so often do.

 

What is one piece of research (ideally your own) that points to the benefits of such an integrative approach?

The work I’ve been talking about was the basis of my dissertation. I was interested in the influence of speaking in tongues as a cultural practice exhibited in the context of dissociation on stress response. I started from a functionalist perspective testing the health benefits of trance and quickly discovered that tongues can be negatively interpreted even within a Pentecostal church and increase problems rather than ameliorate them. This discovery led me to be sensitive to the various emic interpretations of the tongue-speaking experience and a nuanced approach to quantifying lifetime tongue-speaking experience. Ultimately, I found that higher rates of tongue-speaking influenced higher stress on worship days, which was expected given the experiential and energetic nature of worship, and relatively lower stress on a nonworship day compared to people within the same churches with less tongues experience. These differences were small but statistically significant. Those data are detailed in two papers in American Journal of Human Biologyand Religion, Brain and Behavior.

While this supported my hypothesis, the biggest lesson that has driven much of my subsequent research and approach is that, as a pastor in one of the churches where I did that research once said, “speaking in tongues is not enough.” It is simply the beginning, and there are numerous factors that influence the benefit of Pentecostal practice that often can’t be generalized even beyond one church. Analysis of an event wherein an individual was accused of being under the influence of the Devil rather than God, and which influenced my thinking in this regard, is outlined in an article in Ethos, and a forthcoming article in the Journal of Cognition and Culture reanalyzes previous data with regard to other factors that are influential in benefiting health besides tongues.

 

How might cultural anthropologists or social scientists interested in such an approach get started?

One of my favorite pieces is “Biocultural Models in Studies of Human Health and Adaptation” by Ann McElroy. Also, I was strongly influenced by a biocultural issue of Ethos that came out in 2005 (Vol. 33, Issue 1), when I was in graduate school, and especially the article “What’s Cultural about Biocultural Research?” by Bill Dressler, with whom I am now a departmental colleague in our Biocultural Medical Anthropology program.

 

Christopher D. Lynn is a biocultural medical anthropologist and human behavioral ecologist, director of the Human Behavioral Ecology Research Group, and co-director of the Evolutionary Studies (EvoS) Program at the University of Alabama. His dissertation research was on the relationship between glossolalia (“speaking in tongues”) and biological stress among New York Apostolic Pentecostals. He is currently setting up broader studies that examine the neuroanthropology and behavioral ecology of Charismatic religious behavior in Alabama and Costa Rica. The focus of much of his research is on understanding the mechanisms and psychocultural moderation of the mechanisms underlying dissociation/absorption.

 

Bioculturalism” aims to get anthropologists and closely-related others talking seriously, and thinking practically, about how to synergize biological and social scientific approaches to human health and well-being, and to what positive ends. It is edited by Jeffrey G. Snodgrass

What if 40/40/20 is really 40/40/40?

The following is a re-blog of a guest post I did for BANDIT (Biological ANthropology Developing Investigators Troop). I think the “Biocultural Systematics” blog is an appropriate venue to repost this because of the interdisciplinary approach we emphasize in our Biocultural Medical Anthropology program at the University of Alabama. My point in this post & in others by my colleagues on this blog, IMO, is that our combined efforts build toward the objective of a more synergistic, mixed-methods program. While not all of the service each of us is asked to do feels like part of that complex whole, hopefully the service we CHOOSE to do (& which we may be warned off of) is, in the long run, worth the further sacrifice of our personal time.

One final note before getting on with the show. In a Twitter comment, anthropology blogger Jason Antrosio drew attention to a quote by Randy Martin that Antrosio had highlighted in Living Anthropologically in 2011, in which Martin questions inherent gender & racial disparities with regard to service expectations by administrators.

While I agree, I think these are systematic issues not restricted to service & that the concept of a bygone era of weekends free of administrative expectations or more faculty self-governance is a myth (or I’ve just drunk the Kool-Aid).

At any rate, thanks to Julienne Rutherford for publishing BANDIT & asking me to guest post.

Guest Bandit Blogger Dr. Christopher Dana Lynn shares his experiences with the slipperiest part of your professional portfolio, service:

I first experienced this one summer during grad school when my department paid me a modest sum to overhaul their website. In doing so, I had to introduce myself to every member of the faculty to update their bios & get new photos. This interaction was integral to my success in the department, as everyone came to know me & support me. I learned about shared research interests I had with faculty doing widely disparate things that weren’t otherwise apparent. This taught me firsthand the value of networking thru service.

One reason I have been consistently warned against too much service is simply so it didn't cut into my family time. Good advisers & colleagues look out for us like that. This is me & my clan ca. grad school (&, yes, I've included it for the "cute" factor).

One reason I have been consistently warned against too much service is simply so it doesn’t cut into my family time. Good advisers & colleagues look out for us like that. This is me & my clan ca. grad school (&, yes, I’ve included it for the “cute” factor).

However, one of the reasons I got hired at the University of Alabama in 2009 was because I had developed breadth into evolutionary psychology thru the NEEPS & EvoS service. When I arrived at UA, I jumped into involvement with a group of like-minded faculty called the Evolution Working Group, which hosts an evolution-oriented lecture series. In conjunction with this group, we started our own EvoS program at the University of Alabama.  The program involves a minor, which I co-direct, & a student-run club, for which I am faculty mentor.  For the minor to work, I developed & teach several classes over my expected teaching load of 2/2 (two courses per semester) & help the students organize & host an annual Darwin Day event.

In addition to the EvoS program, I run a research group every week that I modeled on the evolutionary psychology lab I was part of as a grad student.  At this point, it is mostly undergrads & my few grad students, but we meet for 3 hours every week to collaborate on research, which amounts essentially to teaching another course. Finally, when my kids were in 3rd grade, their PTA asked me to teach a semester-long anthropology course as part of the partnership their school has with the University of Alabama. By this point, my dean had echoed my grad school adviser several times, stating in my annual recommendation for retention that my service load is too extensive & varied for someone at my career stage & that I should scale back. However, as a chairperson of another department & parent of one of my children’s classmates pointed out, our children grow up fast & won’t give us this opportunity with them again. Although I swore I would only teach the class the first year, it was very successful—who learns anthropology in elementary school?! How could I not continue to teach that?

TMSE kids doing a forensics activity as part of our anthro outreach course

TMSE kids doing a forensics activity as part of our anthro outreach course

 

Last year, I figured out how truly important all this extra work has been for me. I began the process of applying for a National Science Foundation CAREER grant, which requires integration of teaching innovation. I realized that all the service I have been doing was exactly what I needed for developing a “career trajectory.” Thru it, I had developed substantial collaborations throughout my university, indicating my willingness & ability to work across disciplines & with teams. I have met scholars throughout the world by organizing their lectures here who have expressed willingness to vouch for me at tenure time. When I go to conferences, I know far more people than I otherwise would & feel a sense of mission in promoting these programs we’ve developed.

So, what’s the take-home message? Do service willy nilly? Not hardly. But don’t shy away from it either. Everyone is busy, but your willingness to take on just a little more will be greatly appreciated &, to invoke some of my favorite evo theory, it is a costly honest signal of your willingness to cooperate that will reward you with unforeseen dividends!

Biocultural Anthropology Bibliography

University of South Florida anthropologist & Neuroanthropology blogger Daniel Lende has written an excellent & useful bibliography of biocultural anthropology as part of the Oxford Bibliographies Anthropology series.  Here is the introduction:

Introduction

Biocultural anthropology exists at the intersection of cultural and biological approaches. Given how concepts, methods, and institutions have changed with regard to “biology” and “culture” since the early 1900s, the biocultural intersection has proven a dynamic space. It is also a contested space, where claims about human nature and culture and about science and ethnography have often come into stark contrast. Biocultural anthropology is linked to the four-field holistic tradition of anthropology within the United States. Individuals who don the biocultural mantle often claim holism as well and the accompanying ability to cross among archaeology, biological anthropology, cultural anthropology, and linguistic anthropology. Other individuals often object to this presumptive turf-grabbing and the accompanying assumption that the biocultural tradition is somehow better through being more integrative (or “holistic”) and better able at getting at more “fundamental” questions within anthropology. Here too controversy can arise. Yet, over the course of one hundred years, the biocultural tradition has helped tie together anthropology, first in the United States and, then, increasingly so in Europe. Certainly biocultural anthropology—broadly conceived as drawing on biological and cultural theory and using an inherent interdisciplinary approach—has gone through periods of obscurity, where small groups of researchers kept some of the main ideas and ideological commitments alive for another generation. But today, biocultural approaches are experiencing a renaissance across many arenas within anthropology. The perception exists, however, that the present biocultural approaches largely come from the biology and science side of anthropology and aim to increasingly encroach on questions seemingly reserved for social and cultural theorists. This bibliography emphasizes both biological and cultural research, with the hope that this broader selection can help anthropologists understand the conflicts that arise at the biology/culture interface as well as find important texts outside their areas of expertise that can facilitate further developments in biocultural anthropology. The bibliography has a three-part organization: an overview at the beginning, a historical review in the middle, and particular examples at the end. The overview provides a selection of introductory texts, overviews, recent collections, Internet resources, methods, and applied work. The historical coverage comes in the sections Foundations of Biocultural Anthropology and Disciplinary Divisions, Controversies, and Syntheses. The Foundations of Biocultural Anthropology section begins with the origins of holistic anthropology, considers mediating traditions from earlier to recent research, covers evolutionary and cultural theory amenable to interdisciplinary work, and highlights research that crosses the biocultural divide. Disciplinary Divisions, Controversies, and Syntheses delves into the recent history of anthropology, examining the disciplinary divisions that sprang up in the 1970s; then tracks important controversies that cut across the biocultural divide in the ensuing decades; and finally examines recent integrative attempts and reworkings of anthropology’s holistic tradition. The final section covers neuroanthropology and addiction as two examples of biocultural research.