Ruddy Kingfisher Manuscript Round 2

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RUDDY KINGFISHER MANUSCRIPT REVIEW HISTORY
MANUSCRIPT (ROUND 2)
Abstract
Although consumer researchers study the role of habitus, cultural capital, and taste in status
negotiation, examinations of the moral and ethical dimensions in identity construction are scant.
This ethnography of a trailer park neighborhood investigates how different moral dispositions
and self-ethics shape low-income working class residents’ consumption practices and status
negotiations. Drawing from Bourdieu’s conceptualization of habitus and cultural capital, the
authors extend this theory by foregrounding the moral aspect of consumers’ habitus and
demonstrate how this is enacted through their everyday practices, perceptions, and socio-cultural
evaluations. Five distinct moral identities shape consumers’ social construction of status within
the micro cultural context of the trailer park. The ethnographic findings also point to the
multiplicity and richness of class-based habituses, as well as the importance of studying local
micro social contexts to better understand social differentiation.
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An enduring topic in sociological theory is social stratification since people often differentiate
themselves as superior in both subtle and conspicuous ways (Elias 1978 [1939]; Simmel 1957
[1904]; Veblen 1994 [1899]; Weber 1978). More recently, Bourdieu (1977, 1984) articulated a
theory of social distinction that has generated significant research and intense scrutiny with
ardent followers and critics (Sallaz and Zavisca 2007). In brief, Bourdieu (1977, 1984)
conceptualizes society as having overlapping social fields where people compete for status by
employing economic, cultural, and social resources. Specifically, he justifies the importance of
high culture as an historical product that is linked with expectations for social entitlement by
those who possess and value it. Consumer researchers have developed a fertile stream of
research extending Bourdieu’s original work since the sympathetic introduction by Holt (1998)
and more recent extensions that examine status consumption (Allen 2002; Henry 2005; Ustuner
and Holt 2007, 2010; Ustuner and Thompson 2012; Coskuner-Balli and Thompson 2012). In this
research stream, status is generally viewed as the primary manifestation of social class; that is,
social class dictates the ways in which status-oriented consumption is manifested.
Following this tradition, we examine a working class and poor neighborhood in the
United States that is severely lacking in economic, social, and cultural resources. Nevertheless,
the people in this neighborhood enact many overlapping and competing local social hierarchies.
We explore the notion of moral habitus building upon Bourdieu’s work to understand these
social divisions and how moral habitus guides consumption practices in resource constrained
environments. In the next sections, we briefly explore Bourdieu’s key contributions on cultural
capital and important extensions by consumer researchers as well as limitations in the
conceptualization of habitus that motivate the use of moral habitus.
BOURDIEU’S CULTURAL CAPITAL AND CONSUMER RESEARCH EXTENSIONS
Cultural Capital
Bourdieu argues that cultural capital plays an important role in ordering social life
hierarchically (Bourdieu 1977, 1984; Holt 1998). He articulates three forms of cultural resources:
embodied cultural capital (e.g., manners, tastes, skills, and dispositions), objectified cultural
capital (e.g., cultural possessions), and institutionalized cultural capital (e.g., degrees and
certificates). Bourdieu contends that in French society educated parents place their children in
elite schools socializing them in legitimate forms of culture that confer advantages over working
class children. These elites go on to work in professions where these skills are both demanded
and refined while interacting and working with other cultural elites. Elites leverage cultural
capital to gain at the expense of others, further reinforcing social inequality (Ustuner and
Thompson 2012).
When cultural capital is expressed through consumer actions and practices, it becomes
taste. Consumers follow “taste regimes” in order to put their aesthetic preferences and various
forms of cultural capital into practice (Arsel and Bean 2012). Taste regimes explored in
consumer research include consuming according to the Western lifestyle (Ustuner and Holt
2010), engaging in apartment therapy as an expression of soft modernism (Arsel and Bean 2012),
and following the consumption codes of the natural health movement (Thompson and Troester
2002), As consumers develop and follow particular taste regimes, they also assert their social
standing and differentiate themselves from other social groups. Thus, taste is socially and
historically constructed and reveals an individual’s position in the social hierarchy. The view of
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taste as a socio-historically constructed embodied practice is evident in Karababa and Ger’s
(2011) work on the formation of “active consumers” during the 16th and 17th century Ottoman
society. In the context of Ottoman coffeehouse culture, the authors investigate how multiple
actors (e.g., coffeehouse dwellers, the Ottoman state, the preachers, and the marketers)
discursively shape the meaning of pleasure and leisure consumption.
Although working class culture was not his primary focus, Bourdieu views this culture as
uniform; working class consumers passively accept popular culture, which is subordinate to high
culture and dominated by “an inescapable deprivation of necessary goods” (Bourdieu 1984, 372).
The working class lacks necessary goods and makes a virtue out of necessity, developing a
practical taste for what they have given their material limitations. Moreover, the working classes
have a strong norm of conformity, unite in solidarity, avoid pretenses that threaten this solidarity,
and accept the popular choices that are available to them (Bourdieu 1984).
Yet, this analysis of working class was based in France before the widespread
affordability of many consumer goods and where choices were constrained (Bennett et al. 2008).
Holt (1997, 1998) extends Bourdieu’s theory in the United States where the division between
high and popular culture is not clear cut since mass production makes many products widely
available. Although Americans may consume the same products, Holt explicates how their
consumption practices still differ based on cultural capital. High cultural capital consumers
interact in more materially rich and diverse cultural settings and are more omnivorous,
consuming a wider array of overlapping tastes, such as exoticism, cosmopolitanism, and
connoisseurship. Consistent with Bourdieu’s approach (1984), low cultural capital consumers are
faced with the demands of everyday life and develop a taste for necessity, thus preferring what is
practical and relevant to their lives (Holt 1998).
Similarly, in a recent large scale empirical study that attempts to replicate Bourdieu’s
work in the United Kingdom, researchers portray the working class as lacking a distinctive
shared culture (Bennett et al. 2009). They define this culture as an absence citing that the
working class have little education, do not read books, do not attend cultural performances, and
have few preferences beyond watching commercial forms of popular culture and frequenting fish
and chips restaurants. Yet even these authors admit that their survey-based methods and
interview questions likely failed to capture the significant social life that exists locally for the
working class among family and friends. They failed to tap into home-based and relatively
inexpensive activities, such as do-it-yourself activities, arts and crafts, games, and gardening.
Moreover, the cultural capital valued within different social groups may be more subtle
and nuanced and not easily unearthed particularly given that working class consumers neither
have the resources nor time to develop a culture in more legitimized forms. For example, wild
land firefighters value their “country competence,” an embodied set of skills that allows them to
face life-and-death risks and emerge safely along with their compatriots; they perceive
themselves as members of the pickup-truck crowd far superior to the weak and pretentious Buick
crowd living in suburbia (Desmond 2006). In a more dramatic example, homeless people enact
an abstract and embodied version of taste as they fantasize about cherished possessions and as
reject shelters that threaten their security and autonomy (Hill 1991; Hill and Stamey 1990).
Consistent with Holt’s (1997) critique of Bourdieuian cultural capital as universal and generic,
these homeless informants demonstrate a field-specific cultural capital. This particular form of
capital works in the context of homeless shelters that constitute a sharp contrast to traditional
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contexts where the workings of cultural capital are more straightforward, fungible, and
transferable (Coskuner-Balli and Thompson 2012).
In this study, we examine consumption practices of working class consumers centering
on homes practices in a trailer park neighborhood. Homes and neighborhoods are rich sites to
explore cultural practices (Daloz 2010; Ustuner and Holt 2010). Moreover, these social spaces
can trigger interpersonal conflicts as the users of these spaces struggle to achieve control, assert
their status, and may disagree over respective consumption practices (Bourdieu 1989). An
ethnographic study of a working class neighborhood may be better able to explore the potential
existence of a working class culture along with its nuances revealing local social relationships as
well as hierarchical divisions (Bennett et al. 2009).
Habitus and its Relationship to Cultural Capital
According to Bourdieu, it is the interaction across habitus, cultural capital, and field that
generates practice and motivates individuals to behave in certain ways. In fact, Bourdieu
explicitly maps out the interrelationship across these three concepts in the following way:
[(habitus) (capital)] + field = practice (Bourdieu 1984, 95). As this formula points out, habitus
along with capital, constitutes part of the practice and there is also a close relationship between
habitus and field. As stated by Bourdieu and Wacquant (1992, 127): “social reality exists, so to
speak, in things and in minds, in fields and in habitus, outside and inside social agents. And
when habitus encounters a social world of which it is the product, it is like a ‘fish in water’: it
does not feel the weight of the water and it takes the world about itself for granted.” Bourdieu
uses the concept of habitus to explain the reproduction of social stratification. Habitus is a set of
unconscious and enduring dispositions, patterns of thinking, and ways of acting that are acquired
in childhood and provide a tacit sense of how the world works and one’s place in this world.
Habitus is an embodied sensibility—a forgotten history--that is transposable to new setting and
helps explain why individuals reproduce social structures through their behavior (Bourdieu and
Wacquant 1992). For example, rural working class men may appear well suited to soldiering
since their habitus was pre-formed by being raised in the country where they tracked wild game
from a young age, handled firearms, learned to move with stealth, and worked cooperatively to
kill and field dress game. They appear to be “naturals” at soldiering, performing well in combat
teams (Desmond 2006). Habitus captures the dialectical relationship between practices and social
structure. Human practices enact social structures and, while human practices can be
improvisatory, they are shaped by social structures (Bourdieu 1990).
Consumer research has offered important support for the concept of habitus. For
example, critics often attack Bourdieu’s concept of habitus as overly deterministic and cite his
failure to acknowledge education as a progressive force helping people advance socially
(Goldthorpe 2007). Allen (2002) provides evidence supporting the power of habitus to reproduce
social inequalities even in individual consumer choices for post-secondary education. Working
class students make educational choices to go to less economically advantageous schools based
on their working class habitus or an embodied holistic sense that the choice of a technical school
just feels right when compared to a liberal arts university.
Other researchers also challenge habitus criticizing it as vague (Ignatow 2009), a master
mechanism (Bennett et al. 2008), and “unrealistically unified and totalized” (Sewell 1992, 16).
As such, researchers recently seek to theoretically unpack habitus in an effort to refine its power.
For example, Illouz (2007) explores emotional habitus as the most embodied and least reflexive
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form of cultural capital. Viewing emotion as “certainly a psychological entity, but no less and
perhaps more so a cultural and social one,” Illouz (2007, 3) argues that emotional habitus is a
unique form of a set of dispositions that stand in between social and cultural capital. It is through
their emotional habitus that consumers’ cultural tastes are put into practice, become embodied,
and thus help shape their socio-cultural identity (Arsel and Bean 2012). Ustuner and Holt (2010)
also challenge the traditional notion of habitus in their study of status consumption among upper
middle class Turkish consumers. Turkish consumers with high cultural capital work hard to
develop their tastes based on a myth of Western culture in a manner akin to learning the strict
rules of lifestyle. This finding challenges the conventional view that habitus is always habituated
and accumulates from childhood gradually and with little effort. Coskuner-Balli and Thompson
(2012) also contribute to this research stream by exploring field-dependent capital, or a
subordinate type of capital, that is employed by stay-at-home fathers.
Researchers question the centrality of taste in social hierarchies arguing that Bourdieu
underestimated the ethical, moral, and normative dimensions of social life (Sayer 2005; Lamont
1992, 2000). Lamont (1992) argues that moral distinctions play a far more important role in
structuring social life than taste in practice (e.g., tastes for music, food, fashion, and so forth)
[Arsel and Bean 2012]. Ignatow (2009) builds on this work with the introduction of the idea of a
moral habitus, which can deepen our understanding of existing research. Similarly, Sayer (2005,
23) argues for a revised version of Bourdieu’s habitus because a focus on morality and ethical
dispositions can lead to “an understanding of the normative orientation of the habitus.”
Investigating consumers’ moral judgments and how morality is enacted in everyday
practices can become a valuable tool for understanding the dynamics of social life and status
negotiations. For example, Sandikci and Ger (2010) articulate how the stigmatized practice of
veiling by urban middle-class Islamic Turkish women evolves over time to be a fashion
statement. Using careful socio-historical and empirical analysis, the authors explore the complex
and varied ways that Islamic women’s individual decision to veil is a thoughtful choice based on
a period of deep reflection about their faith. The women see veiling as a moral identity project;
covering is a practice of self-restraint through which they create a new moral self. During this
transition stage, they are adrift until they find a new community of faithful people to support
their evolving moral self and new habitus (Sandikci and Ger 2010). Similarly, although
Karababa and Ger’s (2011) work is positioned within leisure consumption and consumer
resistance research streams, the authors’ socio-historical analysis highlights the role of moral
dispositions in taste and status consumption. As multiple stakeholders of the early Ottoman
society form and shape the coffeehouse culture, they all follow particular taste regimes guided by
multiple moral discourses (e.g., the personal quest of pleasure vs. religious morality, ethics, and
religious fatwas promoting the health benefits of coffee). Finally, Izberk-Bilgin’s (2012) work,
among low-income Turkish consumers with strong Islamist orientations, explores how these
consumers reflect their firm religious standings into their perception of global brands.
Modern discussions of morality are influenced by Descartes’ separation of mind and
body or, more specifically, by the separation of moral thought over action. For example,
cognitive-developmental models in the area of moral psychology argue that the moral person’s
acts are guided by moral reasoning but are divorced from any embodied practices (Aquino and
Reed 2002). Winchester (2008), however, in his study of new Islamic religious recruits, finds
that embodied practices—praying and fasting--do not emerge from a fully developed moral
identity. Similar to the findings by Sandikci and Ger (2010), embodied practices form, and are
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formed by, an evolving moral identity in a dialectical and co-constitutive process. The practice of
fasting, like veiling, is a potent way to restructure the corporeal body’s normal relationship to the
world. Fasting restructures the boundaries between inner states and the outer world as recruits
become more introspective. Indeed, these practices are the way the moral self emerges through
developing an enduring and embodied sense of discernment and moderation.
Similarly, Ignatow (2009) explicitly seeks to strengthen Bourdieu’s theory by articulating
the idea of a moral habitus. He conceptualizes morality as being based on bodily, cognitive, and
social inputs. Like Bauman (1995) who locates moral action in the empathetic body, Ignatow
stresses the physically-charged nature of moral judgments. Social issues are emotionally
experienced; issues like veiling or abortion evoke strong visceral reactions (Sandikci and Ger
2010). However, Ignatow argues that emotions are enacted differently in different cultures and
inescapably have a social component. In Ignatow’s (2009) revised moral habitus, people enact
ideas from cultural repertoires but they enact them based on strongly held emotions and
intuitions that are embodied. Although Sandikci and Ger (2010) sought to explain the
transformation of veiling from a stigmatized to a normalized practice, the concept of moral
habitus can help refine their interpretation. For example, Islamic women first veil in uniform
ways using large head scarves and overcoats because these shared practices are building an
embodied sensibility that they are faithful. Only later do they have the freedom and confidence to
enact personalized and aesthetic veiling practice because their Islamic moral habitus is secure,
taken-for-granted, and naturalized.
Next, past research on homes as a status marker is briefly reviewed focusing on the sociohistorical construction of manufactured housing as an inferior form of dwelling. Then, the
research methodology is explicated before exploring the moral habitus enactment among five
different groups of consumers within a trailer park.
HOUSING AS A STATUS MARKER AND THE MEANING OF MOBILE HOMES
Almost anyone can purchase an expensive, fashionable clothing assemble to appear
distinctive (Daloz 2010). However, housing is a long standing marker of social distinction;
unlike clothing, it requires significant financial investment creating a barrier of entry. Although
lower middle class consumers may aspire to “McMansions,” this marker is out of reach for the
working poor. It is also unlikely that elites or middle class consumers would ever even
temporarily go “slumming” by engaging in the omnivorous consumption of the dwellings of the
poor (Bennett et al. 2009).
In Warner’s classic study of social hierarchy in “Yankee City,” he ranked the size,
condition, and placement of homes (Warner and Lunt 1941). Greater status is communicated by
the size of the house and number of rooms, which indirectly signals the need for hired help (Holt
1998). Distinctive features can be displayed such as architectural details (e.g., marble staircase)
or prestige possessions (e.g., artwork). Location of the home may communicate superiority and
aloofness by being located apart from or above the city. But status can also be expressed by
locating an extravagant home in the heart of the community (Daloz 2010). Increasingly, gated
communities and privatopias offer functional protection from crime and the social distinction of
being in a “good” neighborhood surrounded by the right people (Ustuner and Holt 2010).
Most research on status differentiation focuses on upper classes and elites with far less
attention paid to status differentiation among the poor (Daloz 2010). Like most dwellings for the
poor, mobile homes are largely stigmatized as a substandard dwelling. They are the most
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common form of unsubsidized affordable housing in the United States. Over 22 million
Americans or about 8% of the population live in mobile homes (NCSL 2007). Mobile homes are
more concentrated in rural southern areas. New mobile home sales were 69% in the South, 13%
in the West, 10.3% in the Midwest, and 6.7% in the Northeast (US Census 2009).
In popular parlance, mobile homes are derogatively called ‘trailers’; not surprisingly, the
term ‘manufactured home’ is preferred by the industry and legislatively refers to homes built offsite that comply with the 1976 HUD code (U.S. Department of Housing and Urban
Development) to regulate the quality of construction and installation. Mobile home (or trailer) is
the more commonly used name but technically this term refers to homes built before the HUD
code (Apgar, Calder, Collins, and Duda 2002). [We use these names interchangeably.]
Historically, trailers are negatively associated with economically lower strata of society
and are often undesirable in terms of size, condition, and location. Small trailers were used by
transient and immigrant blue collar workers during the Great Depression. The first negative
stereotypes of trailer parks emerged as “crowded rookeries of itinerant flophouses” (Hart,
Rhodes, and Morgan 2002, 9). They were physically located in poorly maintained trailer camps
at the edge of towns. However, after World War II, more working class families sought mobile
homes spurred on by the rise in mass production and positive promotion of this modern lifestyle.
Yet a tainted image of trailer parks and their residents persists today despite their
popularity among low-income consumers and improved construction and installation standards
(Berube 1997). First, mobile homes, with their unconventional appearance and factory-made
designs, generally fail to satisfy typical middle-class ideals for American site-built homes that
are rooted in a community. Prestige goods are generally distinguished by their workmanship,
customization, and durability (although certain epicurean consumption is ephemeral [Daloz
2010]). Mobile homes are widely perceived as unsafe dwellings vulnerable to hurricanes and
tornadoes (Fothergill and Peek 2004). Despite the improved quality of materials used in the
construction of mobile homes after the HUD code, many mobile homes are still built poorly with
hazardous materials that include pollutants (i.e., formaldehyde) and flammable substances
(MacTavish, Eley, and Salamon 2006). A third of mobile homes inhabited today were built
before the HUD code and most trailer parks are located on the cheapest, disaster-prone real estate
due to exclusionary zoning (Consumers Union 2005).
Although mobile homes symbolize impermanence, they are relatively immobile after
being transported; less than 1% of mobile homes are moved given the significant cost (between
$1500-5000), the lack of available sites due to zoning laws, and parks’ restrictions that forbid
older homes. Despite popular perceptions, mobile home residents are not transient; mobile home
communities have turnover rates of 2-4% when compared to rates of 50% for apartment
dwellings (Rowe 1998) and about 60% of trailer owners live in their parks for over ten years
compared to site built home owners residing an average of six years (Burkhart 2010).
Nevertheless, a tribal-like social stigma is attached to mobile home park dwellers
(Goffman 1963). If embodied signs of distinction include refined, sophisticated, and controlled
manners, then residents of trailers are portrayed as crude, ignorant, and lacking in control.
Popular culture, ranging from television shows, such as Cops and My Name is Earl, to popular
movies, such as the Wrestler (2008) or Million Dollar Baby (2004), portrays trailer parks as
crowded and dirty settings of social pathology that are populated by people who are ignorant,
addicted, promiscuous, or criminal (Kusenbach 2009). Mobile home communities are
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marginalized as “white trash icons” violating American norms of aesthetics, domesticity, morals,
and middle class values (Berube 1997). Several empirical studies, however, challenge these
negative stereotypes. In an ethnographic study of a mobile home park, MacTavish and Salamon
(2001) demonstrate that residents work as hard as, if not harder than, their middle class
counterparts to make ends meet. Most trailer residents embrace traditional small town values
such as the importance of communal ties, reciprocity, raising good children, and respecting
neighbors. McCartney (2010) found that the crime rates in Omaha mobile home parks were not
necessarily higher than the rates in other housing communities. The prevailing stereotype of most
mobile home tenants as young and crime-prone people is also false. Almost half of the mobile
homes in the U.S. are occupied by people who are fifty years old and older—a demographic
group with a lower crime rate (Burkhart 2010).
If housing is an important marker of distinction, then living in a trailer places these home
owners at the bottom of the social hierarchy. Within this low status community, how is social
distinction negotiated both within and outside the community when most people have little
economic, social, or cultural capital? We explore how everyday consumption practices around
the trailer home and park help in the construction and negotiation of moral habitus across five
clusters of mobile home park residents. Furthermore, we investigate the multiple ways park
residents engage in social comparison with neighbors and neighborhoods beyond the park.
METHODOLOGY
We conducted eighteen months of fieldwork relying primarily on formal interviews and
informal observations at a trailer park that we call, Lakeside Park. Since our goal was to explore
multiple life worlds within a marginalized community, qualitative field research was best suited
to understanding the sensitive issue of status negotiation in a resource-constrained environment
(Burawoy 1991; Hammersley and Atkinson 1983). Initial contact began by working with a
volunteer organization that offers services at Lakeside. These interviews provided an
introduction to the community. For example, we learned how outside volunteers negatively
perceived the park community employing traditional steretoypes that failed to capture the
diversity of life within the park.
They are poor. It’s a culture, it’s generational. They have no education, no money, no
resources. You know, their grandmother did it, their mother did it and now they are doing
it. There is no structure for the kids. They just make poor choices…. Junk food and
cigarettes, they just make poor choices… It is very difficult for these kids to find success
and when you give them the opportunity, they don’t know what to do with it (Crystal).
Later we found that this “identification by others” is an important aspect of the park residents’
identity construction as they challenged or ignored such ascribed identities (Melucci 1996).
We worked through the park management to secure permission to study the park since
they controlled access to residents. Both the volunteer organization and management helped
identify and refer potential informants. We used snowballing and network sampling to recruit
beyond these initial contacts, which resulted in a sample of 24 trailer park residents representing
20 households (see Table 1). We sampled for diversity on several criteria, such as socioeconomic status (i.e., working poor, poor on welfare, female-headed households, couples vs.
families), owners verses renters, and length of tenure at the park. Moreover, we sought residents
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who were both engaged and disengaged in the park, which helped illuminate theoretical nuances
across different levels of agency. For example, one key informant was a park resident who lived
in the park for almost 30 years and was actively engaged in the community while other
informants had recently arrived and disliked living in the park.
[Insert Table 1 here]
In total, we conducted 40 in-depth formal interviews that were recorded and transcribed.
All informants were interviewed in their homes to help them feel comfortable and to observe
their domestic space. The interviews ranged between 1 to 3 hours and all but two informants
were interviewed at least twice, which was important for building trust. The first set of
interviews consisted of grand tour questions and questions exploring the broad meaning of home
and community; follow-up interviews probed more deeply on emergent themes (McCracken
1988). Informants were encouraged to tell their own stories and elaborate on topics important to
them. Each informant was offered $20 as compensation given that their time was valuable,
particularly for those people who worked two jobs to make ends meet.
We also engaged in two types of observation: “observer-as-participant” (e.g., taking long
walks at the site and observing the use of space and daily activities) and “participant-asobserver” (e.g., volunteering at the community picnics, participating in tutoring sessions with the
community children, and observing adult parenting classes) [Burawoy 1991]. Photographs
helped capture more details of events, people, and the use of space. Photos taken in earlier
interviews were used to encourage elaboration in later interviews. Thus, the data consisted of
interview transcripts, field notes, and site photos. A hermeneutical approach was used to analyze
the interview data and field notes (Thompson 1997). We engaged in two levels of analysis. We
first did an intra-textual coding and analysis to understand how individual informants develop
meaning for their home and the park and how they negotiate their moral identities. Then, we did
an inter-textual analysis across transcripts to detect the similarities and differences in the ways
that informants construct multiple meanings for their trailer homes and the park and assert their
moral identities. This analysis was iterative, requiring movement back and forth between the
emergent themes in the data and the extant literature.
Lakeside Park
Lakeside Trailer Park sits on forty acres of agricultural land zoned for residential use in
the 1960s. The surrounding housing market is expensive and Lakeside represents one of the few
affordable housing alternatives (see Photo 1). Lakeside houses around 350-450 people in over
150 trailers. The park is a low-income working class neighborhood that is demographically
diverse with retirees, families with children, single parents with children, single adults, and
childless couples. Many of the park residents are on a fixed income (i.e., government assistance)
and others make ends meet by working one or more jobs that are mainly minimum wage. These
jobs are within the manufacturing, retail, or service industries and offer few benefits, thus fitting
the traditional profile of working-poor jobs (Shipler 2004). In addition to being financially
constrained, the informants face disadvantages common to people living in poverty, including
chronic illnesses, emotional problems, and addiction (Hill 2001). Although most informants have
some health insurance coverage through the state, few have sufficient coverage, which creates
additional stress as residents try to manage with limited resources.
Over half of all mobile homes nationwide are located in parks where the homes are
densely concentrated and residents lease the land (MacTavish et al. 2006). Lakeside is a privately
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owned for-profit park run by a property management firm. Many of the informants own or are in
the process of owning their mobile home and they pay rent on the lot of approximately $200 per
month. No home owners association exists with democratically-decided rules. Instead, home
owners must follow rules created by the park owners and enforced by the management. Mobile
home owners shoulder the costs of home ownership, such as maintenance and insurance, but do
not realize many of the traditional benefits of home ownership (Krajick 2003).
Historically, home ownership is associated with greater social and economic stability, but
this is not the case at Lakeside. For over two years, the previous park owner sought to sell the
land and during this hiatus residents were given month-to-month leases. Residents feared they
would be evicted if a land developer bought the land. Many renters lacked cash to move to the
few available subsidized apartments. Many owners neither possessed resources to move their
homes nor was alternative land available. One park resident said: “I was just going to put
everything in storage and live in my truck. I’ve lived in it before and it’s not very comfortable…
But there’s [sic] not very many options.” Moreover, the town estimated that over half of the
trailers were in such poor condition that they were unmovable. A tentative proposal was put forth
by a nonprofit organization and the town housing council to renovate homes and allow owners to
buy their land. However, obstacles arose, such as the cost of the private land, and the town was
unwilling to invest the significant resources required for sewers and roads. As one resident said,
“poor people don’t matter.” This acute housing insecurity was resolved when new owners bought
the park. Nevertheless, residents continue to be concerned that the land will be sold and rezoned
for higher income homes (Small Town Gazette 2007a, 2007b, 2008).
The issue of eviction is a significant area of tension between the Lakeside residents and
the park management. Although eviction procedures vary by state and county (Fichtner 2004),
eviction is difficult for people with few resources. The possibility of being evicted on short
notice, the ambiguity surrounding the eviction process, and the subjective criteria used for
eviction leads to a state of “quasi-homelessness” for mobile home communities (Salamon and
MacTavish 2006). At Lakeside, people get evicted when they fail to pay rent or comply with
their lease. Once the management decides to evict a resident for missing rent, they issue a fiveday notice and start legal proceedings if the resident does not contact management to arrange
payment. This process lasts between 30-90 days but it was evident during our fieldwork that the
process and outcome depend on the park management’s willingness to work with the residents.
Lakeside informants were happy with the new management, particularly when compared
to the previous owners who made little investments in the park. For example, few streetlights
existed and the roads were in poor condition when we first began our fieldwork. The new
management installed streetlights, paved some of the roads, and removed the trash dumpsters
from the entrance. The park management wanted to “beautify the park” to attract more residents
and most residents liked these improvements. But the new owners also added a system to
measure residents’ consumption of water. Residents were chagrined over the new water fee:
“…we’re not even allowed to put a, you know, the small plastic pools? We can’t even put those
up. I don’t think it’s right, especially if they want us to be paying our own water bill (Emma).”
Most residents cite affordability as the main reason for living at Lakeside. In 2008, the
median home price in the nation was over $200,000, while the average manufactured home sold
for $64,900 (Wodka 2009). Nevertheless, mobile home ownership is not a clear path to wealth
accumulation. Initial ownership can prove costly. Consumers Union (2005) found a number of
industry practices increase the price consumers pay, including failure to post sticker prices, the
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lack of property appraisals, and dealer financing (which increases prices by 11%). Mobile home
purchases can be financed through traditional real estate mortgages if the home is located on
owned land. In 2008, however, 72% of new mobile homes were not titled as real estate but were
titled as personal property or were untitled (Wodka 2009). Thus, the majority of mobile home
purchasers use chattel loans that treat the mobile home as personal property, much like car loans,
meaning the homes can be repossessed. These loans also have higher interest rates and less
attractive terms (Williams, Nesiba, and McConnell 2005). Mobile homes typically depreciate
regardless of how well they are maintained; many owners of mobile homes have zero or lessthan-zero equity five or ten years after they purchased their home (Krajick 2003). Equity in
mobile homes can be built through land appreciation (Apgar et al. 2002). Since the informants in
this study leased their land, little opportunity exists for them to build wealth.
FINDINGS
We organize the results around five clusters of informants who have overlapping but
different moral habituses: Nesters, Reluctant Emigrants, Community Builders, Homesteaders,
and Outcasts. First, we explore how emergent moral habituses stratify social life within and
outside the park. Second, we examine how home consumption practices recursively support and
are supported by their moral habitus.
The Nesters
The Disciplined Self. The Nesters enact a moral habitus consistent with the Protestant
work ethic where they achieve success through hard work, self-control, and individual initiative.
They are on an upward life trajectory from a troubled social past and economic deprivation to
their current lives as “good people” with “good paying jobs” who are living “good lives” (Tim).
This group is the most religious and they attribute their break from addiction and
hardships to finding their faith:
God straightened me up, he showed me that kind of life was not worth living and I could
have a better life. And slowly and surely, he opened my eyes up and told me that ‘hey,
you can live a better life.’ And I’ve got a better life now… To me, God's the center of the
universe. God, without, if I hadn't found God, then I would probably still be on drugs, I'd
probably still be an alcoholic, I'd still be living the wrong kind of life and not be happy.
(Mary).
Nesters leverage religion and spirituality as cultural capital to forge new lives. Mary’s
institutional affiliation with her local church provides significant social capital where she both
gives and receives support. She takes great pride in her volunteer activities where she helps
others, such as providing counseling for a church member who is a recovering addict.
The Nesters evaluate themselves favorably and feel proud over their accomplishments
and possessions. However, they evaluate negatively most other park residents who are perceived
as disorderly, dirty, and lacking in discipline and self-control:
They don't keep their yards up or they put too much crap in it, like up there, and, you
know, come on! All you have to do is plant a couple of trees and flowers and things and
just keep it clean. Some people still have their Christmas lights out. Come on! Hello?
Trailer trash. [laughter] You know like they show in the movies. Let's live up to our
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reputation, okay?... There’s some in here that they don't want to have a job. They just
want to make babies and live off the system and that just disgusts me because people like
you and I are supporting them to have babies. (Amanda)
Kusenbach (2009, 413) similarly found that mobile home residents engage in fencing to create
differences through “nuanced, localized boundaries to justify their own placement on the good
side of the decency divide.” For the Nesters, the decency divide follows their moral habitus; we
summarize their identity as the disciplined self (see Table 2). They look down on neighbors who
violate their moral order by failing to care for their homes and yards and whose demeanor
disrupts the daily park life, such as allowing unruly and unfed “wild kids saying the ‘N’ word
and cussing like sailors.” But the Nesters express the most anger toward the “crack heads” and
“druggies,” who represent an unrestrained life that is antithetical to their current life but is also
reminiscent of the life they have left behind.
[Insert Table 2 here]
Not surprisingly, the Nesters physically and socially distance themselves from their
neighbors. As Tina explains, “I don’t associate with nobody. I just have nothing to do with none
of them.” The Nesters socialize with a few carefully selected people who make the decency
divide. Still, the park is home and feels comfortable. The Nesters do not feel threatened within
this unruly setting even though they perceive the park as home to “big drug dealers,” “child
molesters,” and “hoodlums.” Velma states, “I feel very safe in this trailer park.” As Bourdieu
(1984) suggests, social actors feel at ease in the social world that they have regularly inhabited
and helped to construct.
Despite engaging in ‘fencing’ within the park, all Nesters stress continuities between life
within and outside the park where middle class neighbors share their struggles and values.
One thing that I can say is that [drugs] is everywhere, okay? It is in suburbs, it is in
corporate, okay, it is in everything in life. It's in all your neighborhoods….You better
believe it's in those, across the street in those big fine houses, too, okay? ...there are all
kinds of people throughout all walks of life that live here [in the park] and society has
bred it into people that only poor people live here, but... you've got all these people that
have these big $100,000, $200,000 houses and they are having to work and making ends
meet (Tim).
They affirm their similarity with their middle class neighbors who share their moral habitus of
hard work and discipline (i.e., auto-recognition), and, as such, seek recognition by others from
outside the park (i.e., hetero-recognition) [Melucci 1996].
These informants support and follow the park rules because they promote the social order
the Nesters so value. Even policies that restrict the use of park’s amenities are viewed as
necessary. Nesters with children supported the management’s decision to remove drink machines
and close the playground, which were being vandalized. Tim agrees with these policies despite
his own inconvenience, “Now, I’ve gotta find a way to the store. Sometimes a few knuckleheads
can ruin things for a lot of other people.” The Nesters also see the regular police patrols of the
neighborhood as comforting and supporting a life of social order and control.
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Home Practices as Morally Ordered. The trailer is a material and symbolic marker of the
Nester’s transition from lives of real destitution into what they perceive as a more middle class
lifestyle characterized by successful consumerism. The ownership of a trailer marks the Nesters’
social progress and the trailer home is their most cherished cultural object. When compared to
their past homes, the trailer is better designed, larger, and possesses attractive features that bear
resemblance to their notions of what a middle class home should be. During a home tour,
married Tim and Velma chart this journey from physical insecurity to material comfort.
We sleep good at night, you know. I can lock the door, we have a nice place, we don’t
have to worry about it raining because at the other place [referring to their previous
home] it would rain and you’d have to put a bowl in the floor to catch the rain and all of
that... Now, we’ve got a heat pump and, I mean, you know, we’ve got everything, so I’m
feeling better. (Tim)
The Nesters ascribe to a myth of success as security much like Ustuner and Holt’s (2010)
Turkish high cultural capital consumers who mimic Western lifestyle and adopt a particular
moral order consistent with this lifestyle. Yet, the Nesters’ achievement of physical security is a
far cry from the conventional notions of security to which most middle class consumer aspire
(e.g., long-term financial security). The Nesters’ sense of providing for their family centers on
providing for basic needs. As Velma states: “That kid [referring to her son] does not go hungry.
He does not know what the word hungry means. He'll say he's starving, and I'll say, ‘Children in
Africa are starving. You are hungry.’”
Their trailer home and possessions are potent demonstrations that they are capable and
hardworking people. Amanda, a reformed alcoholic, states proudly, “Look how far I’ve made it.
I never thought I'd make it this far, I never thought I'd be alive. I never thought I'd have what I
have now…. I mean look at all of this--this is mine, the roses, the rose bushes!” Janice, who was
a drug addict and a victim of domestic violence, articulates her material and self-transformation:
When I moved in here, I didn't have nothing. I didn't have no furniture. Just clothes. And
I did one room at a time…I had to love me enough to learn that I could do this on my
own, with my own two feet, get a job, and do it on my own.
Bauman (2005, 38) suggests that the poor are generally perceived as “flawed, blemished,
and defective consumer manquées” who cannot consume like their middle class counterparts.
The Nesters resist this ascribed identity and, in fact, it is through their status consumption of
middle class possessions that they assert their standing (Holt 2002; Ustuner and Holt 2007) [See
Photo 2]. Velma relishes home features, such as French doors and garden tubs, which
demonstrate her successful consumerism. As her husband Tim states:
We live really good. I don't think we're poor. Can't classify me as being poor. To me,
poverty level is me out walking on the sidewalk standing back watching the guy at the
restaurant dump some food in the dumpster so I can eat. That's poverty. I have a different,
just a different definition of being poor, you know? We’ve got cable television, we’ve got
water, you’ve got one of these [showing his cell phone]. When you don’t have a phone,
you’re disconnected from everything. (Tim)
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The Nesters engage in a wide range of hands-on projects to embellish and personalize
their home. At first blush, these activities seem consistent with Bourdieu’s (1984) suggestion that
the working class develop a taste for the practical; the Nesters’ favorite activities are home
improvement projects, including decorating, repairing, and maintaining their yard. They work to
personalize their homes as a symbol of their hard fought new disciplined identity. For instance,
Mary created a place in her yard that she calls “my little corner” and continues to embellish it
with painted rocks, lighthouses, crosses, and plants. Mary’s little corner allows her to practice
her new “Christian life” of order and discipline aiding her transition from being “on drugs and an
alcoholic and living the wrong kind of life.” Consistent with Bourdieu’s predictions, her cultural
objects are tools of necessity—painted rocks and inexpensive commercial objects. Yet, unlike
Bourdieu’s (1984) contention that working class culture is passive, Mary’s case demonstrates
both personal creativity and agency. These practices are not merely the expression of a taste for
practicality but they are how she embodies her new moral habitus of hard work, discipline, and
self-ethics (see Photo 3).
Janice practices control and discipline in her handling of home finances; she managed her
home as a financial investment by upgrading and selling it for $14,000 and then buying her
current trailer for $11,000. Amanda practices her competency and control over her domestic
space even as she manages the challenges of home ownership.
I guess the best thing is it that I come home some nights and I knew winter time if I
forget to tell somebody to drip my water then I have to come home and the pipes are
frozen or something, I got to get up underneath the porch because I know exactly where it
freezes at and I do that myself. Or if my water pipes break I have to fix that myself. But
God man, hands down, it’s tons better. Yeah, it’s a constant thing. I’m always remodeling
and re-doing something. (Amanda)
The intensity with which homes are remodeled, refashioned, repaired, and reworked suggests
that these activities are more than merely practical. These embodied practices enact, shape, and
are shaped by their moral habitus as the disciplined self.
The Reluctant Emigrants
The Caring Self. The Reluctant Emigrants are on a downward life trajectory from a once
secure lower middle class lifestyle to a more economically insecure and undesirable life at
Lakeside. The Reluctant Emigrants once lived in traditional fixed-site homes that they perceive
as nicer and more comfortable. They are forced to live at affordable Lakeside due to economic
hardships and disabilities. Their moral habitus overlaps significantly with the Nesters. They
value hard work, but they are even more disciplined and controlled, and enact strong ethical
behavior. We summarize their identity as the caring self because they are focused on security
and the protection of their family (see Table 2).
The Emigrants are hardworking, disciplined, and entrepreneurial. For instance, before her
disability, Emily worked two jobs to support her children. Now she is trying to establish a homebusiness selling hand-crafted purses. Following a workplace injury, Irene is earning a degree at
the local community college. Samantha works a full-time job and her husband, Matt, trades
stocks online. This group of informants is self-confident and generally perceives trailer living as
a layover stop as they “are trying really hard to get out” (Samantha).
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The Reluctant Emigrants carefully monitor their spending looking for ways to save
money, such as buying cheaper brands and skipping convenience foods and leisure activities.
They do not necessarily develop Bourdieu’s working classes’ taste for necessity but instead
restrict their consumption and save money in order to return to their previous lifestyle, which is
more consistent with their security-focused moral habitus. Emily’s holiday celebrations with her
extended family provide a good example of how the Reluctant Emigrants seek family fellowship
within a disciplined budget. The extended family shares the rent on a community hall so they can
congregate, “...we do our own cooking and we just get all the kids together, leave room for them
to play, and just get all the family together at one time.” Each family member draws a name in
order to exchange gifts economically. Consistent with Bennett et. al’s (2009) approach to the
working class culture , the Reluctant Emigrants’ leisure activities focus on local and familycentered events. These events mark a solidifying and binding cultural capital that centers on
communally sharing food, gifts, and celebration rituals. Therefore, even when they consume out
of necessity, our informants develop creative and helpful consumption practices that strengthen
their social and emotional capital.
Emigrants are the most ethically vocal and share many cases of acting against injustice in
their workplace and the marketplace. For example, Irene left a job when her supervisor treated
her co-workers unfairly and withheld their paychecks; she lost her job fighting for her rights and
those of her co-workers. Moreover, she refuses to use stores with self-scanning technology that
may cost people their jobs. Sharon does not shop at Wal-Mart because she believes this retailer
makes it difficult for small retailers to compete. Sharon also criticizes how people are treated
with little respect at social services. Often these critiques are ideological, such as Matt’s critique
of the need for universal health care, but they are commonly focused on issues of ethical fairness.
Bourdieu (1984) stressed that cultural tastes through habitus create social differentiation. But in
the case of moral habitus, dispositions can unite people in their pursuit of commonly shared
ideas--such as the desire for fairness and equality.
Finally, Reluctant Emigrants value personal freedom and autonomy. Their downward
descent is most frequently discussed in terms of a loss of control and independence. Within
Lakeside, they are unable to decorate or embellish their yards or home because unattended yard
decorations and possessions are stolen. The Reluctant Emigrants perceive Lakeside as a
threatening neighborhood, a “too dangerous” place inhabited by “a lot of riffraff” and “violent
drug dealers.” Other park residents ignore or mitigate these illegal activities, but the Reluctant
Emigrants feel exposed and endangered. Emily worries about her grandchildren’s safety: “one
day, a drug deal gone bad, and someone starts shooting, and it’ll come through the wall or hit
one of the grandchildren.” In contrast to the Nesters who feel safer when police patrol in the
park, police patrols remind Emigrants that the park is an unsafe neighborhood for their families.
Park residents’ manners intrude on the Emigrants and violate their moral codes of
discipline and independence. “People are nosy and gossipy and, just the types, they want to get
in your business” and “they just want to know what you have that they don’t have and how much
money you make and how can you afford this? (Samantha).” Moreover, park residents are
perceived as untrustworthy. Sharon recounts how a former friend, who was on drugs, crashed her
car after taking it without her permission. Samantha explains that Lakeside residents “saw [them]
just as transportation and took advantage of [them].”
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Yet the Reluctant Emigrants still fight against negative stereotypes. However, unlike the
Nesters who highlight the similarities between trailer park communities and wealthier
neighborhoods, the Emigrants focus on unfair negative generalizations:
I think, trailer parks in general, they more think of the people as being trashy individual,
you know. They can't afford anything. They think that they don't work, they don't try to
do anything for their selves. They think everybody that lives in the trailer park lives off
welfare and all this crazy stuff, which in the case it's not always true. Granted that some
of the people, yeah, are like that, but then there's a lot of them like me and Matt who are
trying really hard to get out, you know, try not to get bothered by all the other stuff that
comes along with living in the park. (Samantha)
Although the Emigrants understand the park management’s rules, their desire for
autonomy is infringed upon by restrictions on planting, building, and decorating. Below, one
informant contrasts her trailer to her past and future homes that allow more personal freedom.
We've got so many neighbors, and we can't do really what we would like to do, you
know? We want to have chickens, you know. When we lived in the double wide, we had
chickens and we loved that. We can do anything we want to do and nobody is going to be
there saying no, you can't do that. So, but here you have a lot of restrictions. You can't
have, you know, a lot of kids' toys, which I do, but you know, I want to fix up a little
playground up there for the grandkids when they come up and just be able to do what we
want to do. It'll be ours. The trailer is ours and we can do what we want to on the inside,
but the land is not ours here. (Emily)
Home Practices as Morally Constrained. Emigrants perceive trailers as an “affordable
place to live” when “you have nowhere else to go.” Because they view their home as a temporary
layover, they do not engage heavily in practices to improve and embellish their home (see Photo
4). The Reluctant Emigrants’ ideal home is a conventional site built home on private land. Matt
hopes to build a prefabricated modular home on a fixed foundation, which will be a real house
because it is “permanent.” Home is a place of safety and control in an insecure world (Dovey
1985). The Reluctant Emigrants imagine their ideal homes as sanctuaries removed from the
dangers of the park and the crime in the surrounding town. Sharon’s ideal home would be
situated in the woods and Emily’s ideal home is where her kids can play safely.
Samantha and her family are noteworthy because they successfully left the park during
the study. During the second interview, they happily describe living in their trailer on their own
land after a decade of planning:
And Zach [referring to her son], he got beat up in the park by three teenage boys in the
park and three of the adults stood there and watched it happen and was laughing about
it… So, I thought it was safer for us to move out of the park and get them in a better
environment and into a better school. It worked out really well. The kids are really happy
so that's really all that matters. (Samantha)
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Their new home feels more secure and comfortable. Their home practices of personalization
enact their moral habitus that stresses caring for family and autonomy.
We have our freedom to do what we want, you know. We can make like a flowerbed. If
we don't want to mow our grass one week, well, then we don't have to worry about
getting charged $30 for not mowing the yard. So, and I mean it works out really nice.
There's a lot of deer that come on the property and the kids get to see that and get to, they
get to feed the birds and we have a creek that runs down behind the house. (Samantha)
Similarly, Emily’s “real home” is a future log home, free from restrictions, to which they hope to
move in a couple of years.
The Reluctant Emigrants complain that the lack of physical space in their trailers restricts
daily activities. Emily, for example, had to turn her kitchen into a home office where she runs her
arts and crafts business. She and her partner must alternatively display their favorite possessions,
dolphin figurines and a vintage bottle collection, given their spatial constraints. The future dream
home is imagined as a space of experimentation to express creativity, control, and continuity that
they cannot and do not want to achieve in their trailer:
I would like to get some antique pictures even if I don't know who's in the picture, I
would like to have old pictures. I've seen some old furniture I would love to have. It's
expensive, but it's really pretty. I'd like to make the curtains when we have curtains. I'd
like to make most of the stuff. I'd like to make the curtains to match the quilts. I would
like to decorate it, you know, the way I want it so. As long as I'm dreaming, I can afford
anything [laughter]. (Emily)
The Community Builders
The Communal Self. The Community Builders have volatile life trajectories with both
ups and downs. Given our sample only had three people, no clear pattern emerged in terms of the
direction of their life trajectory. Nevertheless, the Builders share a sympathetic evaluation of
other park residents given their own personal histories of economic hardships and disabilities.
I was a battered person at one time to my kids' first dad, their real dad, he used to beat me
a lot, and I didn't have anything. I had to start all over when I went through divorce, and I
know how some of these people live in here... So, I try to help other people. (Jennifer)
I've been there so I know all of the community services that are available. I've actually
made up a sheet that's got them even down to the food pantries how many times you're
allowed to go…Yeah, I told Alvin [the park manager] I've been there. I've been the one
on the other side getting those eviction notices. (Nancy)
The Community Builders’ moral habitus centers around hard work, fairness, and
responsibility but these values extend beyond personal and familial spheres. Like the Nesters and
Reluctant Emigrants discussed earlier, the Community Builders value hard work and discipline
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but they enact these values for the well-being of the community. Of all the informants, the
Community Builders are the most civic-minded and community-oriented people:
A community to me is not necessarily everyone knowing everyone, but just to live
together and try to make your surroundings better for, you know, not only yourself, but
your neighbors. For instance, I try not to like mow late at night or real early in the
morning or to not play my music loud so it doesn't disturb anyone…I'm going to be one
to help my neighbor. I'm not going to kick him when he's down so. I don't, you know, I
don't see black and white, I don't see poor and rich. I just see people. (John)
These informants are very committed to the quality of community life in the park and we
summarize their moral identity as the communal self (see Table 2).
The Community Builders’ are noteworthy is their skill building and employing different
forms of social capital. Although the Builders criticize the park management, they still cooperate
with the park management to improve the quality of communal life. For instance, John
informally works with the management on clean-up projects that involve repairing older trailers,
adding street lights, and doing general park maintenance. Nancy advocates for “summertime
community picnics where everybody can bring a dish and get to know each other,” movie nights,
and open auctions in the community. Some Community Builders also carve out intermediary
spaces between the residents and the park management. John created a community group to act
as a liaison between the management and his neighbors so “shy residents” could anonymously
have their concerns heard by management. As such, the Builders seek to create bonding social
capital between the park management and the residents (Putnam 2000).
Their skills at generating and using social capital also extend to outer communities. They
create spaces of maneuverability between the park community and other social networks,
including town representatives, volunteer associations, non-profit organizations, and the local
media. These outward-looking spaces are created to gain institutional allies for resource
mobilization and collective action and develop bridging social capital by bringing different
groups together for the good of the community (Putnam 2000). John negotiated assistance from a
community outreach group for repairs and is currently advocating for the opening of a new free
medical clinic in town. Despite her limited literacy, Jennifer lodged formal complaints to city
officials and the Better Business Bureau about being overcharged for lot rent and she sought help
from a community group on what she saw as the park’s unfair hiring practices.
The Community Builders are aware of the problems that surround the trailer park living.
Yet unlike the Nesters and Emigrants, they move beyond criticisms to offer solutions. For
instance, a popular criticism is that unkempt mobile home parks reduce the property values of the
surrounding homes (Hurley 2001; Wallis 1991). Community Builders are aware of these tensions
and offer communal solutions:
I think the town don't want trailer parks here anymore, that they think it's just a royal
dump. It's a place for trouble and some of that I might agree with. It is a royal dump
unless you fix it up. There should be times of the month or year that you paint your
trailer, and if you can't afford it, there should be funds available for people that need it.
There should be, the landlord should offer help with pressure washing and things like that
of the outside mobile homes if they want the park to look good. (Jennifer)
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This constructive criticism sometimes becomes more ideological both reinforcing and shaping
their moral habitus. John, who is the most active Community Builder both within and beyond the
park, attends town council meetings and fights against zoning plans to defend the park. During
the meetings, he displays confidence and points out structural problems, such as the lack of
adequate affordable housing:
I would go to the meetings and sometimes I wouldn't talk, I would listen… I never argued
out of ignorance, I had facts. I would bring up things such as median income in this town
was not $50,000 to $77,000... I would disagree with their comprehensive plan, they
actually had a map drawn one time that didn’t even include this place, being that they
were going to do away with it, but yet they are going to “help us live in better places.”
How can they do that if we can’t afford it? I would bring up things like, this place here
[pointing to his trailer home], this is not a mansion by any means, this is not one of these
houses over here, but this is a nice, neat house, you know? And people that live here are
good people. They need this place. They can't afford anything else. (John)
In addition, John raises awareness within the park community and tries to organize the residents
around the issue of the residents’ right to homeownership. As such, he displays an “organic
intellectual” identity—an organizing force for the working poor who critically challenges the
ideological and intellectual social order and educates others (Gramsci 1995; Kozinets and
Handelman 2004).
Home Practices as Morally Ordered. The Community Builders’ positive feelings
towards their trailer home range from pride (e.g., “everything in here has been worked very hard
for and is paid for and that’s a long struggle”), gratitude (e.g., “I feel very fortunate to have the
things I have”), to individual achievement (e.g., “I did all of this”). These informants have
practical skills that they use creatively to beautify their home through decorating, gardening, and
remodeling (see Photo 5).
I've worked really hard. I've hand painted the bathroom, which has to be redone again
because the people that lived here before the lady was kind of heavy and she fell
completely through the tub and it was leaking and the floor was swelling up, and I
couldn't open or shut my doors. I took black trash bags and white trash bags and made
curtains out of trash bags. I didn’t have anything. I lost everything I had. I had to cover
the bathroom windows so my daughter and kids could take a bath. So, it was kind of a
royal dump, and I turned it into something that’s worth living into… (Jennifer)
However, unlike the Nesters with their trailer homes (i.e., home as a material and
symbolic achievement for a middle-class life) and the Reluctant Emigrants with their dream
homes (e.g., home as a liberated space to achieve control and safety), The Builders approach
their trailer home as a demonstration of their communal moral habitus. Their trailer is part of the
community and, thus, their trailer home, like the whole park, should be well tended. But mostly,
trailer home and the possessions surrounding the home, stands as their demonstration of civic
engagement, communal responsibility, and commitment to the park living. For instance,
explaining how she cleans up after kids playing in a vacant yard, Jennifer says, “I bet I pick up
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trash out of that yard 20 times a day because I am a clean person. I don’t want it [the
neighborhood] to be nasty looking.” Below, John nicely articulates how his practices enact his
communal moral habitus (see Photo 6).
This vacant lot down here I take care of it so it don't make mine look bad. Yeah, because
if I mow my yard, you know, it's like living beside of a dumpster. If there's trash all over
the ground and you're living beside of it, it reflects on your place. So, I like to keep
everything cut, you know, and it's done the way it should be. I don't like junking up my
porch. I keep it clean or try, and you know, do all of that. Even though the vehicle isn't on
the road, I still keep it washed and cleaned so it doesn't look like a piece of junk.
The Homesteaders
The Resigned Self. Like the other park residents, the Homesteaders value hard work and
individual responsibility, but they are severely lacking in cultural and economic resources.
Wanda dropped out of school in elementary school, is low literate, and has a disability. Mike and
Robert worked in the construction industry but currently receive disability insurance. Lucie is
experiencing a physical toll on her body from the long hours and hard labor of housekeeping;
“Lucie, despite her age and health problems, is working so hard on 2-3 jobs at a time. She is
sleep deprived--most nights she only gets 4 hours of sleep (field notes).” These informants grew
up in working poor families, have always lived in trailer parks, and continue on this life
trajectory of the working poor. The older Homesteaders also face declining health. The
Homesteaders are fatalistic regarding challenges ranging from illnesses to setbacks. We
summarize this moral habitus as the resigned self (see Table 2).
Like the Nesters, religion plays an important role but rather than working within religious
organizations and leveraging social resources, they pray. As Wanda states, “I pray every day and
every night. I usually get down on my knees most of the time and pray.”
I always talk to the Good Lord. For a happy life and take care of my kids, take care of
their families, keep them in good health and help me out. Keep me financed so I can
make it and everything like that. (Robert)
The Homesteaders have an accepting attitude neither judging themselves nor others
harshly. Although Nesters, Emigrants, and Builders compare and reference more prosperous
middle class neighborhoods, the Homesteaders identify with trailer park life and other park
residents. They make connective comparisons with their neighbors and feel socially affiliated
(Locke 2003):
Well, the good thing is, you know, you're around a lot of people that pretty much lives
like you do, you know? Of course, everybody is a little different, but the good things are
you live around people and they pretty much understand how you live. (Lucie)
Lakeside feels comfortable. It is a community where they fit in with people who share their
lifestyle and struggles (Hill and Gaines 2007).
The Homesteaders will not leave Lakeside because it contains one of their few resources-social capital. They are grateful for neighbors who take care of one another. Like the
Community Builders, the Homesteaders use the park as a social bonding zone where people are
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united by a shared lifestyle (Putnam 2000). Although the Community Builders work to build
collective solidarity (O’Brien 2008), the Homesteaders seek support to cope with their individual
problems. In particular, Community Builders often provide for the Homesteaders’ basic needs,
such as transportation, home repairs, and even food. Robert receives help from neighbors since
his past alcoholism left him estranged from his family. Robert died during the course of the
fieldwork and his Community Builder neighbor John found his body during a routine daily visit.
Mike and his wife Wanda also receive help maintaining their trailer from the park manager.
Past research long notes that the poor rely on social networks and resource sharing (e.g.,
Hill 2001; O’Brien 2008; Snow and Anderson 1987). However, in contrast to some of the
disadvantaged groups studied in consumer research, the Homesteaders neither engage in artful
social maneuvering (Adkins and Ozanne 2005) nor enact a victim identity to secure resources
(Hill and Gaines 2007). Consistent with their moral habitus, they portray themselves as hardworking, responsible people trapped by circumstances beyond their control.
I have tried so hard all my life. I've made mistakes in my life like everybody has, I don't
understand, you know, it seems like to me that I take two steps forward and somebody
will push me back three because every time I have a job opportunity something takes it
away… My health isn't as good as it used to be, and working six hours a night now and if
I get another job it will probably be working eight hours at the other job. To be honest
with you I just don't know how long I can hold up to it. (Lucie)
While Homesteaders generally support park policies, they exhibit a fair degree of
tolerance for their neighbors and their activities. They accept what they cannot ignore, escape, or
change. Criminal activities are mostly “nuisances” that do not disrupt their daily life. They take
for granted the regular police patrols; “They [the police] have nothing better to do.” Overall, the
Homesteaders develop a live-and-let-live attitude as they struggle to make ends meet.
Home Practices as Morally Ordered. The trailer is their permanent home and the only
affordable option for hard working, unfortunate people like themselves. Referring to her trailer,
Melissa says, “It’s all right. It needs a lot of work.” Homesteaders adopt an embracement
strategy that they are united as trailer park residents, but rather than seeing trailer park identity as
demeaning, they see trailer living as a reasonable option for people with limited funds (Snow and
Anderson 1987).
Although they share a practical and utilitarian view of their trailer, the Homesteaders
harbor the traditional belief that homeownership marks achievement and integration into
American society (Rohe, Quercia, and Van 2007). With varying degrees of success, the
Homesteaders reach out for social support to secure help repairing and beautifying their home.
Robert is helped by his neighbor and a volunteer organization that supplied materials.
I mean my friend down here, I don't have to do nothing. He helps me out on anything I
need. He helps me work on my car, mows my yard. You name it, he does it. He's going to
paint my ceiling. I don't even have to buy the paint, I mean the roof coating. I don't even
have to buy it. The company is giving it to him and he's going to put it on. So, I've got it
made. I can't complain. (Robert)
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Some Homesteaders are skilled at leveraging social assistance even from the park
management. As a policy, the management is not responsible for the maintenance of trailers if
the residents own their homes. However, Mike and his wife Wanda get assistance as owners.
I own the trailer, but I tell Alvin [the park manager] and he'll get the stuff. He'll come and
check it out. And take care of it because he knows I'm not able to do it… some people
don’t like them because he wouldn't help them but if I need anything, I'll go over there
and tell him and he'd say yeah, I'll get it. (Mike)
Melissa, Lucie, and Robert all rely on Community Builders to maintain her home.
Unlike the informants discussed so far, the Homesteaders’ trailers are usually disorderly
and dirty since they have significant health challenges and/or are working multiple jobs. But,
similar to the Nesters, they still create collections of objects that mark their successes. Although
Robert no longer goes to church due to health problems, he has a sacred corner of religious
figurines, pictures of Jesus Christ, and a Virgin Mary lamp; “I always talk to the Good Lord,” he
states (see Photo 7). This space both symbolizes and is where he enacts his salvation from
alcohol. Finally, Wanda collects used children’s books even though she left school humiliated by
her trouble reading. Her collection of books does not merely symbolize her ideal self but they are
how she works to improve and enact a literate life.
The Outcasts
The Spectacular Self. The Outcasts represent a marginalized subculture within the larger
park community. Outcasts create a small and tightly-knit hedonic subculture based on lifestyles
that run counter to many of the overlapping and shared moral habitus of other Lakeside residents.
Although Outcasts grew up in families that respected hard work and discipline (e.g., Anita’s
mother was awarded a 30-year work award), their secondary socialization reflects a different
moral habitus. The outcasts’ “moral” disposition is perhaps “amoral” when viewed from the
perspective of other park residents. But they are guided by an embodied disposition of risk taking
and pleasure seeking that orients them so we continue to use the same theoretical terms.
As trust grew in later interviews, these informants enjoyed sharing stories about regularly
binge drinking, taking drugs, earning income through deviant means (e.g., strip dancing, dealing
drugs), and breaking laws (e.g., identity theft, driving with a suspended license, assault on a
police officer). Although other informants also confided about past addictions and illegal
activities, they almost always described these events as violations of their moral habitus that
powerfully evoked shame and regret. We summarize the moral habitus of the Outcasts as the
spectacular self since these informants relish their hedonistic lifestyles (see Table 2).
Their life trajectory is highly volatile beginning with a more secure primary family
socialization and then ranging from lives of deprivation with few cultural or economic resources
to deeper plunges into restricted lives of imprisonment and periods of intense substance of abuse.
Like the addicts studied by Hirschman (1992), the hedonics are driven by their impulses and seek
instant gratification. All the Outcasts were addicted to illicit and prescription drugs, all binge
drink, and some still experiment with prescription drugs. The irreverence with which the
Outcasts speak about getting incarcerated suggests that they would continue this lifestyle if they
had resources and could avoid detection.
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The Outcasts are the most socially dependent group of all the park residents. Yet, their
social resources are not based on leveraging collective solidarity or pooling resources, as was the
case with the other groups discussed. Instead, the Outcasts leverage a small number of family
and friends to meet their basic needs, as Emma discusses:
I'm 30 years old and I've never had to be on my own. Because I went from like moving
out of my parent's house to, you know, with friends or family and then I was married and
he took care of me and then I've been with him and he takes care of me. I wouldn't know
what to do, you know. I wouldn't make enough to pay the bills like he does. (Emma)
This social capital is limited, as boyfriends come and go, and ongoing dependency strains even
the social bonds of family. For instance, Emma stayed in the county jail for over a month when
her mother was unable to help and her father refused to send money.
Outcasts cultivate an indifferent attitude toward themselves, their neighbors, and people
outside the park. The Outcasts acknowledge negative portrayals of people living in mobile
homes but, of all the groups, they are the most emotionally flat, neither defending trailer living
nor drawing similarities to a middle class life. Similarly, they generally ignore their neighbors.
Yet, the Outcasts do take great self-pride in their subcultural skills or subcultural capital
(Thornton 1996). They would proudly and [with great animation] tell the researcher about the
mixed drinks they make, the “tricks” to get more buzz with alcohol (e.g., adding salt to beer), fun
card games, and the best music. These are all consumption activities and skills used to enact their
moral habitus of pleasure seeking.
However, the park is evaluated as an unwelcoming community, a panopticon, where
private practices are under constant surveillance by residents and management (Foucault 1977).
Most complained angrily about other Lakeside residents as being “too nosy” and interfering.
If I had my choice now, I'd be gone. Anywhere but here. Everybody is in your business.
Well, yeah, they talk about me all the time. Because I have a lot of company. But, you
know, I have family and friends, you know, that come and see me. What's the big deal?
Uhm, just that, you know, they think I'm dealing drugs or I'm allowing it to go on here or
some stuff like that… What somebody else does in their own house is their business so,
you know. (Anita)
Given the Outcasts’ pursuit of illegal and deviant practices, their hostility toward surveillance is
unsurprising. The outcasts cultivate a defiant demeanor demonstrating that neither formal nor
informal rules apply to them. Anita protests the manager’s inconvenient placement of trash
dumpsters by letting trash accumulate in her yard even though she risks fines (see Photo 8). The
Outcasts also challenge park policies by name calling, sarcasm, and gossiping about the
management. Emma attended a community picnic organized by an outside volunteer group; she
only socialized briefly with her family, fed picnic food to her dog, and then left after filling her
purse with more “dog food” (field notes). Anita likes to “work the system” by sending her cousin
to different food banks to defy rules that limit individual visits. Josh was currently looking for a
used car to drive despite being imprisoned for repeatedly driving with an expired license.
These individual acts of defiance are how the Outcasts get back at a system that they
perceive is “fucked up” and “messed up.” Bourdieu (1977) suggests that people assess their
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chances for success or failure, internalize these, and then shape their aspirations accordingly.
Through their secondary socialization and interactions within a system that they view as unfair,
these informants generate a range of defiant and distinctive “forms of self-defeating behaviors.”
These activities serve to reinforce the Outcasts’ social position as well as enduring constructions
of the poor as deviant and dependent (Swartz 1997).
Home Practices as Morally Ordered. For the Outcasts, the trailer is just a physical
shelter with little symbolic meaning or personal attachment. As Deborah states, “I mean the
trailer is crappy. But, you know, it's a place to live. I don’t mind living in a trailer.” The
Outcasts’ trailers are the most poorly maintained, disorganized, and dirtiest homes within the
park (see Photo 9). These informants do no home improvements and even their most personal
possessions are relatively unimportant. For example, Anita sold her bed for much needed money
and now sleeps on the couch.
Even though the Outcasts’ home is a neglected shelter, it is also where they engage in
their subculture--it is a place “to party” with other Outcasts. The trailer home is their most safest
social zone to employ their subcultural capital (Thornton 1996). Anita’s trailer is “the hangout
spot” and Josh describes his trailer as where he is typically “cooking and drinking cold beer.
That’s about it.” Even during interviews, Outcasts would drink, chain smoke, and ask the
researcher to “party with them.” This construction of the trailer as a partying spot is similar to the
idea of a flophouse associated with single-occupancy motel rooms and other forms of cheap
urban dwellings in skid rows that are inhabited by addicts and homeless people (Berlin and
McAllister 1992). Emma’s home exemplifies the idea of a flophouse. Emma was addicted to
crystal meth and, for months, she let a drug dealer use her trailer as a meth lab in exchange for
free meth. In the excerpt below, Emma recalls those days with nostalgia:
I'd let them use my trailer to cook it and make it and then I'd get some of it. They'd give
me meth. Then I was selling it, too, so… You've gotta be real careful because you can
smell it and mine was right up there on the bike trail the best trailer to do it. People can
smell it. It's dangerous to cook it in the house. I had already lost my kids and my mom
had them… So he [the drug dealer] about blew us up that time and one time he was
mixing some stuff in a bottle that you use to make it, I didn't know what all was in it, and
his finger slipped off and I had a bikini top on and it flew over and hit my back and put a
hole there, we poured water to get it off… Yeah, he's doing 15 years in prison. I would
have got busted the same time he did if I hadn't left, but I was gone. I was gone two days
ahead of him before he got busted. So, luckily I left when I did [laughter]. (Emma)
All of the Outcasts rent their trailers and, according to Lakeside policies, management
should be maintaining their homes as renters. Although all Outcasts complain that they are
ignored and their trailers are in disrepair, they are resigned. As Josh succinctly states, “they [the
management] ain’t took care of nothing in here.” Even other residents note that the trailers of
Outcasts are in poor repair. Often times, the management helps people who own their trailers and
are perceived to be “compliant” (i.e., some Homesteaders) while neglecting the needs of Outcast
renters who are labeled as “troublemakers.” By actively producing and reproducing this social
difference, the management attempts to exert social control. Consistent with the Outcasts’
secondary moral habitus, they prefer to avoid working with management.
INTERPRETATION AND DISCUSSION
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In this study, we examine the social construction of moral habitus and status negotiations
in a marginalized community of a trailer park. We treat this geographically-bounded yet socioculturally dynamic community as a social field onto its own where residents compete for status
and engage in local forms of stratification (Bourdieu 1977). Our findings are similar to Ustuner
and Thompson’s (2012) treatment of modern Turkish hair salons as fields in which status games
among wealthy elite consumers and working class workers unfold. Lakeside trailer park is a field
of struggle, a “structured space that [is] organized around specific types of capital or
combinations of capital” (Swartz 1997, 117). Our ethnographic findings reveal five social groups
with overlapping but distinct moral dispositions that help residents negotiate local social
standings. The mobile home park residents’ moral habitus shapes and is shaped by their
consumption practices around their home. We examine their field-dependent cultural capital that
acts in conjunction with their habitus within the field of the trailer park (Holt 1997; CoskunerBalli and Thompson 2012). Moreover, we show how residents construct and affirm moral
identities through social comparisons with fellow neighbors and other neighborhoods and
communities outside the park.
In the next section, we discuss three primary theoretical implications: 1) the extension of
Bourdieu’s work on habitus and practice, 2) the multiplicity of class habituses within the same
social class, and 3) the importance of analyzing micro acts and local contexts for conceptualizing
status consumption.
Extending Bourdieu’s Habitus
Moral and Emotional Dimensions of Social Life. The usefulness of habitus in
understanding the dialectical interaction between micro level practices and macro structures is
well articulated in prior consumer research. Yet, largely overlooked are the moral aspects of this
interaction as reflected in embodied taste in practice (Holt 2002; Arsel and Bean 2012).
Untangling ethical attitudes and moral sentiments can broaden the conceptualization of habitus to
include not only unconscious dispositions but also consciously deliberated outlooks and
commitments (Reay 2004). As “morals become transported into stable, durable dispositions
through ongoing, everyday practice,” (Winchester 2008, 1773), people shape, re-shape, and
negotiate their habitus.
Our research contributes to this research stream by placing morality at the center of status
construction and negotiation for the working poor. Yet, this study differs from Sandikci and
Ger’s (2010) and Izberk-Bilgin’s (2012) work that mainly focus on how religious morality
informs consumer choices. Instead, we highlight the role of a different kind of morality that does
not necessarily derive from powerful religious dispositions. Our informants’ morality is guided
by their idiographic ethical beliefs and broader worldviews. We demonstrate how everyday
consumption practices and social judgments are constitutive of particular forms of moral
personhood or identity. In the case of our trailer park residents, status identities are negotiated
and asserted not so much through taste in the traditional sense, as in the case of Ustuner and
Holt’s (2007) impoverished Turkish women who pursue a myth of Western lifestyle through
various consumption rituals or, Arsel and Bean’s (2012) apartment therapy bloggers who
demonstrate their taste and cultural capital via aesthetically oriented consumption. Instead,
Lakeside dwellers exercise various locally-oriented moral codes that are embodied in their daily
routines and social comparisons with others. We find that trailer park residents’ moral habitus
fundamentally shapes their evaluations of themselves and others, as well as their aspirations,
preferences, goals, and perceived capabilities. Our approach addresses the largely neglected
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moral roots of habitus within marginalized and less traditional contexts (see also Ustuner and
Holt’s (2010) critique of limitations of Bourdieu’s approach in less industrialized countries).
Consistent with recent approaches to habitus that take into account the role of emotions
and emotional capital, we find that moral standing generates strongly held emotions (Ignatow
2009; Illouz 2007; Rafferty 2011). Lakeside residents experience strong emotions--pride,
confidence, anger, contentment, and shame--that in turn reinforce their moral habitus and
influence how they consume. As such, moral habitus becomes a social, cognitive, and embodied
set of dispositions that both reinforce and is reinforced through strong emotions.
Our focus on morality and self-ethics also addresses Holt’s (1998) call to focus on
consumption practices rather than consumption objects per se. Holt argues that the embodied
nature of taste is better understood through practices rather than the objects that overtly act as
status symbols. We delineate diverse micropolitics of consumption practices within the trailer
park. Given their lack of economic and cultural capital, our informants are very constrained in
accumulating traditional objects and possessions that might act as status markers. Instead, it is
through consumption practices and social evaluations via moral judgments and norms that
occupants of the mobile home park maintain and negotiate a micro social hierarchy. Thus, the
trailer park life acts as their primary social field through which a field-specific capital is enacted
(Coskuner-Balli and Thompson 2012; Holt 1997). At times, this locally-oriented capital is used
in other social spheres (e.g., the labor market, educational field, healthcare, welfare system…).
For example, the Community Builders’ field-specific cultural capital as civic-minded people is
translated into symbolic capital in the local policy field as they raise their voice in town council
meetings. The Nesters’ moral habitus that revolves around hard work and discipline helps them
extend their social capital beyond the park (e.g., the case of Mary who helps drug addicts
through her local church). Although these two cases are noteworthy, they constitute exceptions;
the field-specific capital developed within the park becomes less valuable in other social spheres
and less transferable to new forms. Yet, the moral and ethical foundations of the field-dependent
capital still help Lakeside occupants maintain their disposition within their local neighborhood.
The Multiplicity of Class Habituses within the Working Class. In Bourdieu’s model,
class habitus is generally assumed to be totalizing, static, and systematic; a “conductorless
orchestration” (Swartz1997, 105). In Distinction, Bourdieu (1984, 239) writes, “taste is a matchmaker, it marries colors and also people.” Although in his later work, Bourdieu (1999) explores
the complex dynamics of resistance and striving among the poor, the Bourdieuian standpoint
generally assumes that individuals from similar backgrounds with similar life trajectories share
the same habitus. Thus, elite classes have a taste for freedom and working classes develop a taste
for necessity. Similarly, some consumer research on habitus perceives class habitus as a static
and durable disposition that is similarly experienced by the members of the same social class
[see, for example, Allen (2002); Henry (2005)].
This study, however, challenges this traditional assumption regarding habitus and
highlights the multiplicity of enduring dispositions within the same social class of the working
poor. We found five distinct moral habituses even within the physically and socio-economically
bounded community of a trailer park. This finding has two significant implications. First, the
multiplicity of class habituses oriented by different moral codes may help explain the varied
levels and intensity of class consciousness, resistance, and agency within a social class. The
liberal and Marxist approaches to social class have attributed different reasons to class struggles,
yet gave primacy to the forces of production when explaining class dynamics (Goldthorpe 2010).
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However, history shows persistent class stability despite the socio-economic inequalities that
exist among social classes. Why do we see enduring class stability and very few working-class
protests despite growing social inequalities? The co-existence of multiple moral habituses within
the same social class might help answer this question. For example, although the Community
Builders are action-oriented and vocal in their critique of structural disadvantages facing the
poor, the Homesteaders are driven by a fatalistic and accepting attitude. Thus, it is hard to
imagine these two groups working together toward social change even though they are the two
groups who are socially closest. Class solidarity seems unlikely since even greater differences
exist among other groups in the park. The Nesters’ home practices reinforce the meaning of the
trailer as symbolic of a middle class lifestyle, yet the Reluctant Emigrants see the trailer as
symbolic of the working poor and thus invest little energy in home practices. Both of these
groups differ from the Outcasts where home carries little meaning other than a protected zone to
enact subcultural capital. Second, our findings on multiple class habituses also challenge the traditional approach
to habitus as an unconscious set of dispositions formed through primary socialization. In
contrast, our findings underline habitus as a dynamic and evolving phenomenon that is also
shaped during adulthood (Arsel and Bean 2012; Coskuner-Balli and Thompson 2012; Ustuner
and Holt 2007; 2010). We find cases where individuals ascribe to a secondary habitus shaped
late in their life. For instance, the Nesters have shifted from their previous lives of selfdestruction into their new lives as hard-working, disciplined, and aspiring individuals; their
consumption practices support and enact this newly adopted habitus. The Outcasts’ primary
socialization occurred in families that respected hard work and discipline, yet their secondary
socialization involves self-destructive behaviors that in turn reflect their consumption practices
and interactions with others. Thus, the existence of multiple class habituses does not only occur
within the same social class but can be experienced by individuals at different stages in their
lives. Yet, the existence of secondary habituses that are adopted in late life does not imply that
individuals always give up their primary habitus. The case of Reluctant Emigrants is a case in
point: these informants’ life trajectory shifted from a middle-class lifestyle into the undesirable
life at Lakeside. Instead of adjusting to their new lifestyle, the Emigrants strongly embraced their
primary habitus and seek to get out of the park. In sum, the richness of these findings point out
the dynamic, complex, and evolving nature of habitus.
Micropolitics of Consumption and Status Negotiation. Our analysis complements the
research on the microsociology of social class enactment (Collins 1981, 2000) and sociological
miniaturism (Fine and Fields 2008). These approaches assume that social life is composed of
micro-level interactions that are reflected as an aggregation of interpersonal situations at the
macro level. If, as Holt (1998, 4) suggests, “all interactions necessarily are classifying practices;
that is, micropolitical acts of status claiming in which individuals constantly negotiate their
reputational positions,” then Lakeside residents’ daily routines constitute local acts of status
affirmation. As trailer park residents’ lives unfold across their homes and the park, they engage
in contested status negotiations to realize the lifestyles that are motivated by their moral habitus.
Our focus on micropolitics of everyday life reveals how a large macro entity as working
class poor is enacted through relational and situational patterns of hierarchy. Contrary to the
dominant approaches to social class and identity as unifying categories, our approach is more in
line with the neo-Marxist and poststructuralist view of identity politics that highlight the primacy
of micro acts of meaning making and social interactions (Somers and Gibson 1994). “Because
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people’s self-understandings are grounded in the specificities of everyday life” (Holt 1997, 115),
a close examination of local practices is needed to understand the depth of embodied
dispositions, habits, and negotiated class identities.
Furthermore, by exploring the micropolitics of status negotiation within the social group
of mobile home park tenants, we add another dimension to research on status consumption.
Status consumption and negotiation often takes place between two different social groups, such
as low and high cultural capital consumers (Ustuner and Holt 2010) or between elite clientele
and service workers in hair salons (Ustuner and Thompson 2012). Comparisons are also made
between a social class and ‘abstract others’ that represent a particular lifestyle [e.g., young poor
Turkish migrant women and Western lifestyle (Ustuner and Holt 2007) and white middle class
and working class men and the dominant masculine ideologies (Holt and Thompson 2004)].
Instead, this research maps out social standing and status negotiation taking place within the
same location and social group. Such a miniaturized standpoint helps uncover multiple local
forms of hierarchical stratification and the richness of status consumption activities that might
not have been traceable. Lakeside tenant’s “position within [local] social hierarchy enables
[them] to acquire particular habitual dispositions and capitals” (Rafferty 2011, 225) as they try to
navigate the field of the trailer park. As such, habitus becomes a locally enacted social practice
that activate multiple dispositions, set of beliefs, and particular skills, which in turn reflects in the
ways consumers navigate the marketplace and larger social structure.
CONCLUSION AND FUTURE DIRECTIONS
This research highlights the role of morality and self-ethics in status accumulation and
negotiation. Ethical dispositions and subjective moral norms are not easily observable yet they
constitute an important aspect of habitus. We believe this expansion of the concept of habitus to
include moral dimensions will help researchers better understand the ways in which a particular
social class is lived and enacted particularly among resource constrained consumers. In addition,
we extend research on habitus by redressing two other shortcomings of the Bourdieuian
approach. First, habitus is assumed to be an unconsciously adopted set of dispositions that is
shaped in early life but findings here suggest that habitus is more dynamic and can change
throughout one’s life trajectory. Second, class habitus is assumed to be a totalizing “structured
structure” (Swartz 1997, 102). But the multiplicity of moral habituses found at Lakeside
questions this conventional wisdom. Moreover, the ethnographic findings on trailer park
residents’ consumption practices challenge negative stereotyping of the working class as a
culture of necessity or a deficit culture.
Our findings call for future studies of other negatively depicted social groups to explore
their social construction of habitus and class identities. Studies of immigrants, the aging poor, the
physically handicapped, or other groups where negative stereotypes prevail might expand our
notion of habitus as a more dynamic theoretical concept. Finally, we invite consumer researchers
to explore the relevancy and applicability of our moral habitus framework to resource-rich
communities, such as wealthy neighborhoods and gated communities. The impact of morality on
consumption practices and status negotiations could provide fresh perspectives.
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36
Table 1—Informants
Name
Age
Occupation/Previous Occupations
Park
Tenure
Tim
50s
disability; government job, custodial work
< 5 yrs
Velma
30s
food services; food services, housekeeper
< 5 yrs
Mary
40s
disability; telemarketer, waitress, manufacturing
< 5 yrs
Janice
40s
nursing and cook; unemployed for a long time
10-20 yrs
Amanda
40s
truck driver; telemarketer, cashier, government job
10-20 yrs
Tina
50s
disability; nursing, owned a cleaning company
Whitney
30s
Emily
50s
Matt
30s
unemployed (going to school); N/A
disability, home-based business; managed
convenience store
disability, online stock trader; manufacturing,
nursing, private detective
Samantha
30s
Irene
Previous Domestic Spaces
Housing/Family Status
Housing
Identities
renter; lives with wife Velma and son
Nester
trailer parks, efficiency motel, private
home during childhood
trailer parks, efficiency motel, public
housing during childhood
trailer parks, homeless for short period
trailer parks, apartments, private home
during childhood
apartments, farm house during
childhood
see above
Nester
owner; lives with husband
Nester
owner; single
Nester
owner; single
Nester
< 5 yrs
Apartment
owner; single, raising two grandchildren
Nester
< 5 yrs
trailer parks
renter to buyer; boyfriend and her 4 kids
5-9 yrs
trailer parks, apartment
owner; lives with partner
5-9 yrs
trailer parks, two-story house
renter; lives with wife Samantha and 3
kids
retail store manager; homemaker
5-9 yrs
trailer parks, two-story house
see above
50s
disability; dishwasher, manufacturing, food services
< 5 yrs
trailer parks, apartments, farmhouse
during childhood
renter, lives with daughter’s family
Sharon
30s
homemaker; custodial worker
< 5 yrs
trailer parks, apartment
renter; lives with husband and two kids
Nester
Reluctant
Emigrant
Reluctant
Emigrant
Reluctant
Emigrant
Reluctant
Emigrant
Reluctant
Emigrant
John
40s
21-40 yrs
NA
owner; lives alone
Builder
Jennifer
Nancy
Mike
Wanda
Robert
Melissa
Lucie
40s
30s
60s
50s
80s
20s
50s
5-9 yrs
5-9 yrs
21-40 yrs
21-40 yrs
5-9 yrs
21-40 yrs
21-40 yrs
trailer parks
trailer parks
trailer parks
trailer parks
trailer parks
NA
trailer parks
renter; lives with husband and five kids
renter; lives with partner and four kids
owner; lives with partner Wanda
see above
renter; lives alone
renter; lives with kids
renter to owner; lives with sons
Builder
Builder
Homesteader
Homesteader
Homesteader
Homesteader
Homesteader
Emma
30s
5-9 yrs
trailer parks, apartments, townhouse
partner rents; lives with partner
Outcast
Anita
40s
5-9 yrs
duplex, apartment, townhouse
renter; lives with her two sons
Outcast
Deborah
40s
cashier; housekeeper
10-20 yrs
trailer parks, townhouse
Josh
40s
unemployed; housekeeper
21-40 yrs
trailer parks, townhouse
disability; food services, store management, bar
owner
disability; food services, arts and crafts business
secretary; merchandising, secretary
disability; construction worker
disability; has never worked
disability; construction worker
welfare and food services; retail, dishwasher
housekeeper, retail; housekeeper
waitress; food services, housekeeper, babysitter,
strip dancing
unemployed and welfare; housekeeper, retail, public
services
renter; lives with partner Josh, her son,
and his family
see above
Outcast
Outcast
37
Table 2--Overview of Findings by Cluster
Reluctant Emigrants
Community Builders
-Downward; decline from a
-Mixed
lower middle class life
Clusters
Life Trajectory
Nesters
-Upward; improvement
from past life of deprivation
Moral identity
Moral habitus
-Disciplined self
-Individualistic (hard
working , disciplined,
individual responsibility,
providing materially for
family, religious)
-Pride
-Very critical (other park
residents are out of control,
dirty, and lazy)
-Solidarity with middle
class neighbors as hard
working
-Aligned with their shared
interest in order
-Caring self
-Family first (hard working,
very disciplined, ethical and
fair, individual autonomy,
protecting the family)
-Communal self
-Community first (hard
working, civic responsibility,
enhancing the community,
democratic involvement)
-Confident
-Contempt (other park
residents are intrusive,
chaotic, and dangerous)
-Neighbors make unfair
judgments of park residents
as trailer trash
-Critical; they view the rules
as restrictive
-Home practices embody
their moral habitus
disciplining and moving
away from their past life
-Home practices focus on
financial discipline toward a
new home life consistent
with their moral habitus
-Confident
-Sympathetic (other park
residents face challenges and
are potential collaborators)
-Contemptuous of towns
people in power who fail to
help
-Cooperative; they criticize but
are willing to work toward
solutions
-Home practices mark their
moral habitus as caring, selfconscious, and respectful
people; home practices also
point to home as part of the
community
Self-Evaluation
Evaluation of
other park
residents
Evaluation of
neighbors outside
the park
Evaluation of
park management
Home practices
Homesteaders
-The working poor with
some decline due to
disabilities
-Resigned self
-Fatalistic (hard working,
accepting, religious)
Outcasts
-Highly volatile but mostly
downward
-Humble
-Acceptance (live-and-letlive view of neighbors)
-Indifferent
-Indifference (other park
residents are ignored but
anger over surveillance)
-Anger toward an unfair
system; tactics of defiance,
manipulation, and deception
-Very critical; rule breaking
-Indifference
-Ingratiation; they seek
assistance
-Home practices display
humbleness and
possessions that
symbolize survival thru
hardships as well as acts
of kindness from others
that marks shared cultural
capital
-Spectacular self
-Dependency (hard playing,
impulsive, thrill-seeking,
irreverent)
-Home practices support the
moral habitus as a private
area to enact their deviant
lifestyle
37
38
Reviewer Supplemental Appendix with Photographs
Photo 1—Lakeside Trailer Park
This document is part of a JCR Manuscript Review History. It should be used for educational purposes only.
39
Photo 2—Nester’s Status as Successful Consumers
This document is part of a JCR Manuscript Review History. It should be used for educational purposes only.
40
Photo 3—Mary’s Little Corner
This document is part of a JCR Manuscript Review History. It should be used for educational purposes only.
41
Photo 4—Reluctant Emigrant’s Home as a Temporary Layover
This document is part of a JCR Manuscript Review History. It should be used for educational purposes only.
42
Photo 5— A Community Builder’s Home Interior
This document is part of a JCR Manuscript Review History. It should be used for educational purposes only.
43
Photo 6— Community Builder’s Home as Part of the Community
Photo 7—Homesteader’s Home Practices
This document is part of a JCR Manuscript Review History. It should be used for educational purposes only.
44
This document is part of a JCR Manuscript Review History. It should be used for educational purposes only.
45
Photo 8—Outcast’s Rule Breaking
This document is part of a JCR Manuscript Review History. It should be used for educational purposes only.
46
Photo 9—Outcast’s Home in Poor Repair
This document is part of a JCR Manuscript Review History. It should be used for educational purposes only.