Social and Cultural Diversity Paper
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scholarly_referenceswk7reading.docxSocial and Cultural Diversity part 1 Draft
Part 1: Personal Reflection
The first part of the paper requires you to identify information from your own personal history. Use the following questions to help guide your reflections:
1. Identify your personal biases and how those biases may present challenges to you as a mental health professional. Remember, everyone has biases. The point is not to project them onto your clients.
Note: It is preferred you discuss your cultural biases.
2. Describe your personal history by documenting experiences with discrimination you may have experienced and how your cultural background impacted these experiences.
3. Identify memories of contact with those who were culturally different than you, and your experiences associated with these differences. Be specific.
4. How has your life experience affected how you may relate to persons different than you? Be specific.
Part 2: Racism and Discrimination
The second part of the paper requires you to demonstrate an understanding of the concepts of racism/discrimination. Use the following questions to help guide your reflections:
1. Distinguish between stereotypes, prejudice, and discrimination.
2. What does it mean to be a subtle racist? Please include a referenced definition and example.
3. Why could there be significant differences in perceptions and values of members within the same ethnic group? Be specific.
Part 3: Multicultural Competence
The third part of your paper requires you to review and reflect on multicultural competence as a professional. Use the following to help guide your reflection:
1. What did you learn about the importance of cultural sensitivity in providing professional services to clients?
2. How do communication styles differ across cultures?
3. How might strategies to build rapport be differentiated based on culture?
4. What resources could help you to become more informed regarding cultural diversity? Cite resources you can use to dispel your personal biases.
5. Provide an example of cultural bias in counseling/psychological research and support your answer with at least one scholarly reference.
6. How could you apply your learning to your future practice as a mental health and wellness professional?
Scholarly References
1. Title: Managing Cultural Diversity Without a Clearly Defined Cultural
Identity: The Ultimate Challenge.
Taylor, Donald M.; Kachanoff, Frank J.; Peace and Conflict: Journal of Peace Psychology, Vol 21(4), Nov, 2015 Special Section: Managing Diversity. pp. 546-559. Publisher: Educational Publishing Foundation; [Journal Article], Database:
Database: Psyc ARTICLES
McGill University
Biographical Information for Authors: Donald M. Taylor is professor of Psychology at McGill University, Montreal. His theory, laboratory experiments and community-based field research focuses on the challenges confronting society’s most disadvantaged groups.
Frank J. Kachanoff is a graduate student at McGill University in Montreal. His research interests include relating theories of individual motivation to inter and intra group dynamics, by conducting both experimental lab based research and field research in disadvantaged communities.
Acknowledgement:
In the scholarly literature and among policy specialists, concepts such as diversity, pluralism, multiculturalism, and their accompanying idealistic images of mosaics, rainbow coalitions, and patchwork quilts, abound. Indeed, Bloom (1987) has argued that cultural relativity or agnosticism may be the only shared value that unites modern academia and social policy.
The result is that cultural diversity is widely celebrated to the point that theory and policy focus not so much on the “if”, but primarily on the “how” of cultural diversity: How should cultural diversity be “managed” so as to maximize intergroup tolerance, acceptance and psychological well-being? Our own theorizing, and empirical research is rooted in insights gained while working with society’s most disadvantaged groups. This context gives rise to a different question: how can individuals navigate diverse cultural landscapes if their own cultural identity or the cultural identity of others is not clear? Our theoretical stance emphasizes an underappreciated dimension of culture: The psychological primacy of cultural identity clarity.
Borrowing from Porter (1965), we begin by distinguishing between what we describe as horizontal multiculturalism and vertical multiculturalism. Most theory and research focuses on the fundamental question of how individuals juggle two or more cultural identities so as to successfully navigate their culturally diverse social environment, and maximize their psychological wellbeing (e.g., Benet-Martínez, Leu, Lee & Morris, 2002; Berry, 2005; Berry, Phinney, Sam, & Vedder, 2006; Sam & Berry, 2010; Chen, Benet-Martinez, & Harris Bond, 2008; Ryder, Alden, & Paulhus, 2000). Underlying this research however is the implicit assumption that the cultural groups contributing to a community’s diversity are relatively equal in power and status: what we describe as horizontal multiculturalism.
We contrast this orientation with the consequences of what we label as vertical multiculturalism. Groups differ not only culturally, but also crucially in terms of their power and status. We propose that there are dire consequences for those groups who are at the low end of the vertical cultural hierarchy: they suffer, not from a conflict between cultural identities, but rather from a cultural vacuum. Specifically, colonized indigenous groups in the United States (Native people) and Canada (Aboriginal people), along with those Latino groups who have been colonized, have had their cultures destroyed, while African Americans have suffered the same fate through the ravages of slavery.
We introduce the concept of a “cultural vacuum” for society’s most disadvantaged groups to underscore the magnitude of the cultural assault these groups have been forced to endure. This colonial assault on identity is summarized succinctly by the celebrated Indigenous author King, who argues that “throughout the history of Indian-White relations in North America, there have always been two impulses afoot. Extermination and assimilation” (King, 2012, p.101). The current societal narrative recognizes that colonization generally, and slavery as its extreme manifestation, has had a negative impact on the cultural identity of its targets. Colonization across or within nations, it is recognized, is an exploitative process. And, indeed, the narrative for colonizer group members tends to minimize its impact. In some instances resources may be confiscated while the cultural integrity of the colonized group is to some extent respected. But in the cases of the disadvantaged groups we focus on, the colonization process was devastating, destroying the economic, geographic, social, behavioral and spiritual life of those who were colonized. A cultural vacuum suggests that although these colonized groups enjoyed a rich and clearly defined culture, that precolonial culture has no present-day currency. King (2012) has argued that there are no present-day Indians, only dead Indians: “You can find Dead Indians everywhere. Rodeos, powwows, movies, television commercials” (p. 54). His point is that any portrayal of Native identity in the media or in symbols always involves celebrating an image from precolonial times. Where is the present-day Indian King asks? Society’s most disadvantaged have had their entire cultural identity stolen and they are forced to navigate present-day life in a cultural vacuum.
The implications for cultural groups at the low end of vertical multiculturalism, and for cultural diversity at the societal level, are profound. Groups without the benefit of a clearly defined cultural identity will find themselves struggling with personal identity issues, personal esteem issues and what we have labeled “collective self-control” challenges (Taylor & de la Sablonnière, 2013, 2015). Figure 1 summarizes our theoretical framework regarding the challenges faced by groups at the low end of vertical multiculturalism.
Figure 1. The psychological consequences of experiencing Vertical Multiculturalism.
When the issue of cultural diversity is addressed in the social sciences, a number of explicit, and more often implicit, assumptions are made. First, the focus is usually on the challenges that confront newly arrived, and long established, cultural groups who attempt to thrive in major immigrant receiving nations such as the United States, Canada, Western Europe, and Australia (e.g., see Berry and colleagues’ (2006) analysis of immigrants arriving in 13 different receiving countries). Historically, and consistent with the oft demonstrated relationship between similarity and attraction (Byrne, 1971), assimilation was the social agenda of dominant groups. Cultural groups were asked to denounce their heritage culture in favor of the dominant culture. With the emergence of the revival of ethnicity (Hirschman, 1983), assimilation strategies fell out of favor when they became unworkable. The reality was that “this (cultural) revival was not one spearheaded by social scientists. Rather it was everyday people struggling with the concrete realities of ‘getting ahead’ in society” (Taylor, 1991, p. 5). Moreover, many cultural groups who were asked to assimilate, were, and are, discriminated against and thus not permitted the opportunity to fully participate in society. Assimilationist strategies also proved to be unsuccessful because cultural identity has proven to be a profound allegiance that members of a cultural group are often extremely reluctant to give up. Finally, there was a growing appreciation for the ethnocentric attitudes that are associated with assimilation policies (see Taylor, 1991).
The current zeitgeist champions multiculturalism and celebrates cultural diversity. The psychological rationale is that it is only when a person is secure in his or her own ethnic identity that they can feel open and charitable towards others. Eradicating ethnic differences from this perspective would only threaten a person’s sense of ethnic security and thereby lead to intergroup tensions. (Lambert & Taylor, 1990, p. 30)
The result is that the social science and policy question revolves around a cultural juggling act. How does a newcomer, or indeed established minority group member, psychologically integrate her or his heritage culture with the dominant culture?
The most influential theorist in this tradition is Berry, who has researched extensively different acculturation strategies that cultural group members might use to effectively cope with two distinct, and potentially competing, cultural identities. Berry (2006) has found that consistently, newcomers as well as established cultural minority group members who adopt what he labels an “integration” strategy acculturate better and display better psychological well-being. Berry defines integration as a strategy whereby an individual maintains positive links with both their heritage culture and the dominant culture. Berry’s research indicates that an integration strategy, as opposed to one where the individual focuses mainly on the dominant culture as opposed to their heritage culture, or focuses mainly on the heritage culture with little regard for the dominant culture, is the preferred strategy. His argument is that an integration strategy allows the individual to benefit from the support of two social networks (Berry, 1990; Berry, 1997; Berry et al., 2006; Berry & Sam, 1997). Berry argues that integration would be the most effective acculturation strategy for all cultural groups who, like newcomers, wrestle with two distinct cultures. Berry’s model has resulted in a paradigm shift from earlier “bipolar” models of identity integration which viewed the process of integration as subtractive, in which strengthening identification with one culture would always directly result in dissociating from the other culture (e.g., Andujo, 1988; Ullah, 1985; cf. Phinney, 1990).
It is clear that models of acculturation are important and relevant for issues of horizontal multiculturalism. Where we would take issue with Berry, and research that focuses primarily on issues of identity conflict and integration, is their application to society’s most disadvantaged groups. Newcomers face the challenge of resolving two distinct and relatively clearly defined cultural identities. We would argue that it is a cultural vacuum, not a mismatch, that is the major challenge for members of disadvantaged cultural groups.
Theories of bicultural identity integration seek to build upon the acculturation model proposed by Berry, by exploring the role that individual differences may have on the course of this process (Amiot, de la Sablonnière, Terry, & Smith, 2007; Benet-Martinez & Haritatos, 2005). The bicultural identity integration model, for example, highlights two independent dimensions: the perceived distance and perceived conflict between two cultures (Benet-Martínez & Haritatos, 2005; Haritatos & Benet-Martínez, 2002). The distance dimension is more cognitive and involves the perceived similarities and differences between the “new” dominant culture and the heritage culture. On a cognitive level, then, the perceived distance between two cultures is linked to a sense of cultural isolation or stress. In our distinction between vertical and horizontal multiculturalism we emphasize a third dimension: the distance between groups in terms of their power and status.
These key theorists have made important contributions to our understanding of cultural diversity, but their theorizing is guided by two assumptions. First, it is assumed that there are at least two clearly defined cultures to be juggled. Second, it is assumed that the two or more cultures are relatively equal in power and status: Horizontal Multiculturalism.
Thus, despite at times using labels such as the “dominant” culture, or “mainstream” culture or “host” culture, which allude to power, the tendency is to treat the two cultures in question as psychologically, equally powerful. For example, African Americans and newcomer communities of color will be described as having to engage in a delicate cultural balancing act so that their biculturalism can serve them well in terms of “getting along” and “getting ahead” in America. The research indicates that some form of integration of the two cultures maximizes adjustment and psychological well-being, as if both cultures play a relatively equal role in the integration process.
We argue, however, that issues beyond that of identity integration and acculturation must be considered when groups are of vastly unequal power. Specifically, we need to appreciate that the cultural groups that contribute to a community’s diversity are not only distinct, but they can be ranked vertically in terms of power and status. For those cultural groups at the low end of this vertical multiculturalism, issues of cultural identity clarity will be pivotal.
Our own research is focused on extremely disadvantaged communities including remote, isolated, Indigenous communities and culturally diverse inner-city communities in the United States. The “vertical” structure of multiculturalism in these contexts is inescapable. These communities are disadvantaged by any rational measure and all confront a similar constellation of social challenges ranging from academic underachievement and underemployment to alcohol and drug abuse problems to a litany of physical and mental health issues (Taylor, 2002; Taylor & de la Sablonnière, 2013, 2015).
Despite the respectful lip service given to these cultures, their quality of life and hope for the future is both collectively and individually a societal tragedy. The status and power occupied by these groups at the low end of vertical multiculturalism sheds an entirely different light on multiculturalism theory and policy at the societal level. The immediate question is why these cultural groups find themselves in such a disadvantaged position. The follow-up questions revolve around the implications for cultural identity and cultural integration. Our answers to these questions point to new considerations for cultural groups who are profoundly disadvantaged, as well as for managing cultural diversity more generally.
We argue here that members of cultural groups at the low end of vertical multiculturalism suffer, not from a conflict of discontinuous or incompatible cultural identities, but rather from a lack of any clear present-day cultural identity to guide them. And this cultural vacuum, we argue, arises precisely because of the inordinate power differential between dominant groups in society and groups at the low end of the vertical mosaic.
Native groups in the United States and Aboriginal groups in Canada had their rich cultural identities completely destroyed by colonialism. Besides the estimated 100 million in the Americas who died immediately from the onslaught of colonialism, the remainder were banished to remote reservations and reserves where their way of life was lost forever. Similarly, African
Americans had their culture destroyed by slavery, the ultimate in cultural identity eradication.
Conflicts in cultural identity are challenging enough, however they pale in comparison with the task of coping with a cultural vacuum. To appreciate the psychological and social implications of a cultural vacuum, we need to address the role that cultural identity plays in the development of a healthy, functioning “self concept.”
The Psychological Primacy of Cultural Identity
Taylor (2002) has proposed a general theory of the “self-concept” that comprises at least four key components. A healthy functioning self-concept, he argues, requires a clearly defined personal identity, a clearly defined collective identity, a positive personal identity (self-esteem) and a positive collective identity. This healthy ideal is rarely achieved but can, and does in most people, function effectively with minor aberrations and fluctuations.
Specifically, Taylor (1997, 2002) argues that two fundamental distinctions are central to the self-concept. The first contrasts Identity (cold cognitions) and Esteem (hot cognitions). The Identity component, variously labeled the descriptive, cognitive, or knowledge component, is the one that describes who I am. In contrast, the esteem, or alternatively, the evaluative or emotional component focuses on my evaluation of myself. Thus, identity answers the question “who am I?” whereas esteem answers the question “am I worthy?”
The second fundamental distinction is between an individual’s personal self and their collective self. The personal self refers to those characteristics or attributes that an individual believes to be unique to him or her-self personally. When a person describes him or her self as intelligent, shy, and loyal, that person is defining the constellation of attributes that make them unique. But, the same person might also describe herself as a young, black, woman. These are aspects of the individual’s collective identity in that they refer to attributes that the individual shares with other members of the categories young, black and woman.
By crossing the two key dimensions of the self, identity versus esteem and personal versus collective, we arrive at four distinct components to the self. These four components to the self are not theoretically novel. The literature on the self has long distinguished between identity, knowledge, and cognition on the one hand and evaluation, emotion and esteem on the other (e.g., Baumeister, 1999). As well social identity theorists deserve credit for introducing the role of collective identity for understanding the self (Tajfel & Turner, 1979, 1986). Traditionally self theorists focused exclusively on personal aspects of the self, and it was social identity theorists who pointed to the fact that membership in social categories also contributes to an individual’s self-concept.
Where the present theory of the self departs from tradition is in terms of the role played by each of the four components. Taylor (1997, 2002) argues that while each plays a pivotal role for a healthy sense of self, certain components have psychological precedence. Specifically, the argument is that collective (cultural) identity has psychological primacy over the other three components, and personal identity, in turn, has precedence over personal (self-) esteem.
The precedence of collective identity arises because the attributes that comprise an individual’s personal identity are relative. When an individual perceives herself as intelligent she is really saying “I perceive myself to be more intelligent than others who make up my reference group.” Thus, for an individual to define what attributes are unique to them personally, they must have a norm or standard to serve as a comparative template (see also, referent informational influence theory, Terry & Hogg, 1996). This is precisely the role of collective identity. Collective identity is a description of the group to which the individual belongs, and as such serves as the normative backdrop against which the individual can articulate her or his unique attributes. In short, without a clearly defined collective identity, an individual cannot engage in the normal processes that would allow them to develop a healthy, well-defined personal identity. In this sense, collective identity is primary.
By extension, it would be impossible for an individual to develop personal (self-) esteem without the benefit of a clearly defined personal identity. Personal (self-) esteem is a form of self-evaluation that requires a concrete basis for engaging the evaluative process. An individual must know who they are—must know their own unique attributes—to arrive at an evaluation of the self. In this sense, personal identity is a necessary prerequisite for personal (self-) esteem.
What is being proposed here is at odds with most thinking about the “self.” The usual analysis focuses attention on the individual and her or his personal identity and esteem. We argue that this emphasis is misguided, because personal identity and personal esteem are essentially derivative. We do view personal identity as pivotal in the sense that in terms of an individual’s conscious awareness of self, it is the personal self that is evoked. Moreover, for many, collective identities are experienced as very personal aspects of the self. However, in terms of psychological processes, logically it is impossible to form a personal identity without a collective identity to serve as a basis of reference. Collective (cultural) identity then has psychological primacy, and this primacy has profound implications.
The present theory of the self-concept makes very clear predictions in terms of psychological health and subjective well-being. Individuals with a clearly defined cultural collective identity are poised to develop a healthy, functioning self. That is, a clearly defined collective identity is the necessary prerequisite for engaging in the process of defining a clear personal identity and, by extension, personal (self-) esteem.
Of all the collective identities that are crucial for a healthy, functioning self-concept, none is more important than an individual’s cultural collective identity. By cultural identities we refer to social identities linked to one’s national identity, racial identity and ethnic identity (see also, Phinney, 1990). Cultural identity, and in some cases religious identity, derives its prominence because it is the one collective identity that guides the individual from cradle to grave, and in all of life’s important domains. In every culture there are always some individuals who, for a variety of reasons, have not internalized a clear schema of their cultural identity, and these individuals will struggle with developing a functional personal identity and a healthy personal (self) esteem.
More importantly for the present context, there are also entire groups who struggle in a cultural collective identity vacuum. Specifically, profoundly disadvantaged groups in terms of vertical multiculturalism, who have had their culture destroyed by more powerful cultural exploitation, have no clearly defined collective identity to offer their members.
Our empirical research has demonstrated that having a clearly defined cultural identity does indeed relate to having a clearly defined self-concept and to psychological wellbeing. Across several studies involving a number of different cultural groups, we find that collective identity clarity relates to self-concept clarity and in turn self-esteem and well-being (Usborne & Taylor, 2010). For every cultural group tested, including a sample of First Nations (Native) living in a remote community, the same pattern of results emerged. Measures of cultural identity clarity correlated with measures of well-being. And in each case, the impact of cultural identity clarity was mediated by the measure of personal identity clarity. It would seem that having a clearly defined cultural identity allows for a clearly defined personal identity to evolve, which in turn contributes positively to psychological well-being. Furthermore, having individuals think about experiences in which their group identity was unclear reduces their feelings of positivity (Usborne & Taylor, 2012). Similar research by Haslam and colleagues has also emphasized the important role of having a clearly defined collective identity for wellbeing (see, Haslam, Jetten, Postmes, & Haslam, 2009, for review).
In summary, our theory proposes four components to the self, and it is a person’s collective “cultural” identity that forms the basis for the effective articulation of the other three components. Specifically, cultural identity is the template that allows a person to engage in the processes necessary to form a clear personal identity. It is a clearly defined personal identity that, in turn allows for personal (self) esteem to develop. Thus, although personal identity may be the component that a person experiences as the “real self,” it is cultural identity that serves as the necessary backdrop and springboard for the entire spectrum of self processes that should lead to psychological well-being.
Cultural Identity Clarity and Collective Self-Control
Cultural identities comprise several important elements including shared values, beliefs, experiences, and norms. However, we propose that at the heart of any cultural identity is a set of shared and valued long-term goals for each and every group member (Kachanoff, Neufeld, & Taylor, 2013; Taylor, 2002; Taylor & de la Sablonnière, 2013, 2015). It is this shared set of long-term goals that orient and guide the behavior of individual group members, and in turn, facilitate group members to collectively self-control their behavior and maintain a functional group structure. For example, a culture that sets formal education as a valued long-term goal asks all group members to not give in to immediate gratification so that they can maximize their chances for long-term academic success. Group members will practice self-control as they pass on the temptation to party with friends and instead study for an upcoming exam. Having a clearly defined cultural identity is essential, then, in that it provides individual group members with the valued long-term goals that enable individual group members to adequately self-regulate their behavior (Kachanoff, Neufeld, & Taylor, 2013).
Self-control is a fundamental exercise that is defined as the process of “altering one’s own responses, especially to bring them into line with standards (culturally defined) such as ideals, values, morals and social expectations, and to support the pursuit of long-term goals” (Baumeister, Vohs, & Tice, 2007, p. 351). Self-control is the process that leads individuals to pass up immediate gratification in favor of pursuing long-term goals: studying for an exam instead of partying, being well rested to maximize job performance, not engaging in risky sexual behavior in favor of long-lasting relationships, and avoiding drug and alcohol misuse to get ahead in life.
Prominent theoretical models of self-control imply that long-term goals have a primary role in the process of self-control because much subsequent self-monitoring of behavior and self-regulation of behavior are a direct result of an effort to achieve these long-term goals (Baumeister & Heatherton, 1996; Carver & Scheier, 1998). Take the example of a student who chooses to stay at home and study rather than to go out and party with friends. If the student did not have any long-term goal of achieving academic success, it is unlikely that the student would inhibit the temptation to party.
We suggest that in many cases the long-term goals that warrant individual self-control are derived from an individual’s cultural identity. By providing individual group members with clearly defined long-term goals, collective cultural identities facilitate individual group members to self-regulate their behavior by informing them as to what overarching goals should guide their day-to-day behavior. Furthermore, cultural identities provide group members with the “deep structure” information about the process of how these goals can be achieved. In other words, cultural identities inform group members with the “what to do” and “how to do it” elements of individual long-term goal pursuit. Returning to our example of the student and the goal of academic success, we would argue that for the youth of any cultural group to be committed to the goal of achieving academic success they would have to view this goal as being normative and valued within their culture. Throughout childhood, the student would likely pick up on subtle cues that education is important: the nightly question at dinner from her parents of how school went that day or her teacher’s fury when her and a few friends attempted to skip an afternoon math class.
Our view that cultural identities have an important role in the process of self-control is consistent with other research that has focused on the role of social identity for self-regulation (e.g., Abrams, 1994; Oyserman, 2007, 2009). In her theoretical discussion of social identity and self-regulation, Oyserman proposes that group members are “motivated to pursue the goals ingroup members pursue using the means ingroup members use” (Oyserman, 2007, p. 432). Oyserman postulates that group members follow long-term goals that are normative within their cultural group because doing so simply “feels right” (Oyserman, 2009). For example, Oyserman and her colleagues have demonstrated that students will set long-term academic goals in a manner that is congruent with how other group members in their communities approach their academic goals. Indeed, the very ways in which students interpret difficulty as they pursue their goals is related to their perception of how prototypical group members behave in the face of challenge and adversity (Oyserman, Bybee, & Terry, 2006). Furthermore, in another series of studies it was found that priming individuals with their cultural identity influenced how they would envision themselves in the future with respect to their academic goals (Fryberg, Markus, Oyserman, & Stone, 2008).
Such research by Oyserman and her colleagues provides empirical evidence that social identities explicitly and implicitly inform individual group members of which long-term goals are valued and are worthy of engaging in self-control. Our own research expands on these ideas by proposing that cultural identities serve as the instruction manual for how to successfully achieve a long-term goal. We refer to this as the “deep-structure” content of a collective (cultural) identity. Importantly, the deep-structure content of a cultural identity is not always explicitly detailed in an individual’s cultural identity, but lays hidden in subtle norms that are transmitted from one group member to another. Again, in terms of our education example, an important norm that must be learned to succeed in a formal education setting is that students are expected to give their teachers answers to questions that their teachers already know. This norm is communicated to a child at an early age when a child’s parent will enthusiastically point to common household items and ask “what is that?”. It is not long before children become aware that their parents already know the answers to their own questions and that children will test this theory by calling the household fridge a washing machine (see, Taylor, 2002).
In our research concerning collective identity clarity we have begun to measure the clarity of specific elements of cultural identity. Specifically, we have assessed the extent to which shared and valued long-term goals that group members have are clearly defined in a group. We refer to this as collective goal clarity (Kachanoff, Neufeld, & Taylor, 2013).
Our conceptualization of collective goal clarity is influenced by Sawyer’s (1992) conceptualization of goal clarity and process clarity at the individual level. Sawyer (1992) postulates that for individuals to be motivated and successful they must have a clearly defined set of the goals they should aspire to achieve. Furthermore, Sawyer argues that having a clear understanding of the processes involved for achieving these goals will be crucial for their successful achievement. For example, imagine an employee working at a local telemarketing center representing a Widget company. For the telemarketer to remain motivated and successful it is essential that he or she have a set of clearly defined goals. These goals might include selling a specified weekly quota of Widgets, or making a certain number of calls each day. Importantly, if the telemarketer is to achieve these goals it is essential that he or she have a clear understanding of the process involved for their achievement. Such a process might include knowing how to properly manage time during the workday, and how to effectively woo potential customers into buying the latest model of Widget.
The literature on goal achievement has emphasized individual level factors required for successful goal achievement such as individual goal clarity and individual process clarity (Sawyer, 1992). Our theorizing emphasizes collective factors required for successful goal achievement: specifically the collective clarity of goals within the group. We argue that for individual group members to have clear goals and a clear understanding of the process needed for their achievement, these goals must be normative and valued within the group. Importantly, the script concerning the process needed for the achievement of these collective goals must also be clearly defined. Returning to our example of the Widget company, we would propose that the extent to which any individual worker within the company has clearly defined goals and a clear understanding of the process for how to achieve these goals depends on how clearly defined these goals are within the Widget company as a whole. It is through observing the goals that other employees set and through casual interactions with other employees concerning tricks for successful sales that the telemarketer will be able to understand what goals are normative and valued within the company and the subtle tactics that must be employed to achieve these goals.
Integrating Sawyer’s theory of individual goal clarity and process clarity with our theory of cultural identity primacy, we propose that cultural identities serve the important function of (a) providing group members with the high-priority clearly defined long-term goals and (b) the norms and the scripts for how to achieve these goals. By observing what goals other cultural group members value and strive to achieve, individual group members will gauge what personal goals they themselves should pursue. Importantly, we postulate that it is through the “deep-structure” content of one’s cultural identity that individual group members learn the subtle processes required for succeeding at the long-term goals that are shared and valued within their culture.
We explored the role of group clarity for educational goal pursuits in an intensive diary study with university students. We asked first-year students living within a residence community to report their hourly behaviors every hour over the course of a typical weekday. Such a technique allowed us to gather an unbiased estimate of the amount of time students spent pursuing their academic goals on a given weekday. Upon completion of the diary, students reported their perceptions of collective clarity concerning academic goals within their community. Students rated their agreement with such items as “People in my residence community clearly tell me what I have to do to be good at my academic work” and “It is common that we talk about the importance of doing academic work in my residence community.” We found that the extent to which students had a clear, consistent, and shared understanding of their residence community’s academic goals was related to individual students having a clear personal understanding of these goals. The collective clarity of academic goals was also related to individual students’ academic goal commitment and, in turn, how much time they actually spent pursuing their academic goals (Kachanoff, Neufeld, & Taylor, 2013).
In sum, this research provides preliminary support for the idea that cultural identities provide group members with rich information relating to a set of shared and valued long-term goals. These long-term goals help guide the behavior of group members on a day-to-day basis. Thus, having a clear cultural identity is essential not only for group members to maintain their psychological wellbeing, but for them to exercise self-control in their behavior.
The challenges confronting disadvantaged groups that are at the low end of vertical multiculturalism are a host of different social problems that include high levels of drug abuse, risky sexual behavior, academic underachievement, underemployment, and violent crime. We argue that the common underlying factor for all these social problems is a collective failure for group members to adequately self-control their behavior (see Taylor & de la Sablonnière, 2013, 2015). At the heart of these collective self-control issues is a lack of shared and clearly defined long-term goals, and a paucity of long-term valued goals arises where there is no clearly defined cultural identity: a cultural vacuum.
Implications of Horizontal and Vertical Multiculturalism for Identity Clarity and Self-Control
In the case of horizontal multiculturalism, where an individual from one culture is attempting to navigate a new culture, both cultural identities are equivalent in terms of their clarity. As a consequence multiculturals will be able to access and in turn integrate the information contained within these cultural identities (e.g., long-term goals). For example, imagine a newly arrived immigrant attempting to navigate through life in his or her new receiving culture. Although immigrant minority groups may be of relatively lower power or status within the context of the new receiving country, these groups bring with them the rich knowledge of long-standing and intact cultures that are of relatively equal status in the overall global context. Indeed, it is not long before a “little Italy” and a “Chinatown” will appear within the metropolitan cities of major immigrant receiving nations. These “micro-representations” of relatively equally powerful cultural groups that emerge within the receiving culture provide group members with a rich normative structure and point of reference from which to maintain a clear cultural identity. Immigrants are thereby able to navigate and make sense of their new cultural milieu by contrasting and comparing it to the crystallized and clear cultural template that they have of their own heritage culture. This process is imperative to the wellbeing of multicultural individuals, as it allows them to know how the new receiving culture is either distinct or similar to their heritage culture, and in turn how to appropriately integrate these two cultures. In terms of self-control, again, multicultural individuals in the context of horizontal multiculturalism will maintain a clearly defined template of long-term goals from their heritage culture that they can use to orient their behavior.
However, in the case of vertical multiculturalism we argue that for groups at the low end, the process of identity integration is essentially impossible. As we have argued, the cultural identities of groups that lie at the bottom of the multicultural ladder have been destroyed by the powerful groups that occupy the top rungs. As a consequence, members of society’s most disadvantaged groups may be left with an unclear cultural identity. This is not to say that members of disadvantaged groups lack a cultural identity or do not identify with their cultural group. Indeed, research by Branscombe, Schmitt, and Harvey (1999) and by other researchers, such as Phinney (1990), highlights the important role of minority identification for wellbeing. However, what we argue is that when group members struggle to make sense of their present day cultural identity after it has been destroyed by high power groups, and also attempt to make sense of a new culture that was thrust upon them, both identities may lose clarity. It is this lack of cultural identity clarity that may impede members of disadvantaged groups from realizing their full capacity to self-control.
The idea that members from disadvantaged groups face challenges related to self-control is not novel. Research by Inzlicht and colleagues have found that exposure to social stigma and prejudice related to one’s disadvantaged position can undermine one’s self-control capacity in multiple domains (Inzlicht, Aronson, Good, & McKay, 2006; Inzlicht & Kang, 2010). Furthermore, dealing with economic disadvantage has also been found to undermine one’s capacity to self-control (Shah, Mullainathan, & Shafir, 2012; Mani, Mullainathan, Shafir, & Zhao, 2013; Vohs, 2013). Our research focuses on how issues of cultural identity clarity may also undermine disadvantaged group members’ efforts to self-control.
Contrary to immigrants from cultures that still have their heritage cultural identities intact, members of disadvantaged groups will not have a clear cultural identity to use as a reference point when navigating the context of the dominant culture. Furthermore, the deep structure contents of the dominant culture have been kept from society’s most disadvantaged groups. From an early age, members of the dominant culture are socialized in ways that groom them to succeed in their culture. At home and at school they learn the implicit norms and how to recognize the subtle cues that are required for them to maintain or ascend their position in the social stratum. In other words, members of the dominant culture learn how to “crack the code” of their own culture. It is precisely this subtle yet essential code that is kept from members of disadvantaged groups. Thus, for members of society’s most disadvantaged, neither the low status culture nor high status culture will be clearly defined. Ultimately, if neither identity is clearly defined, it will be impossible for group members to integrate the two identities together. If identity integration can be alluded to with the metaphor of a “juggling act” then we propose that disadvantaged group members at the bottom of vertical multiculturalism are engaging in this juggling act blind-folded.
Of course, we do not dispute that there may be identity conflicts in the case of horizontal multiculturalism. For example, immigrants who have a clear understanding of their heritage culture may find that certain values or long-term goals that are emphasized in their heritage culture conflict with what is emphasized and valued within the context of their receiving culture. Although these individuals have to wrestle with how the pieces of their cultural jigsaw puzzle fit together, they at least know exactly what these pieces look like. In the case of vertical multiculturalism, the identity of the low status culture has been destroyed, and only a hollow shell of the dominant culture has been conveyed. Rather than being faced with challenges stemming from conflicts between two clearly defined cultural identities, members of society’s most disadvantaged groups lack a clearly defined cultural identity altogether. For members of these groups, not only do they not know how the pieces of the cultural jigsaw puzzle fit together, they do not know what the pieces are to begin with.
There is empirical evidence to indicate that a clearly defined cultural identity is related to both personal psychological wellbeing and an individual’s capacity to exercise self-control (e.g., Haslam et al., 2009; Kachanoff, Neufeld, & Taylor, 2013; Oyserman, 2007, 2009; Usborne & Taylor, 2010, 2012). Vertical multiculturalism leaves the individual with neither a clear identity of their own minority culture nor of the dominant culture. Thus, individuals affected by vertical multiculturalism face the ultimate challenge to their psychological wellbeing and to their capacity to self-control; a cultural vacuum.
Essentially our argument is that in creating a climate whereby multiple cultures can be comfortably navigated so as to allow for cultural equality and openness, the issue of cultural clarity needs to be addressed. Our emphasis on illuminating cultural clarity arose in the context of appreciating the challenges confronting disadvantaged groups at the low end of vertical multiculturalism. However, the implications of cultural clarity apply to the entire spectrum of groups who contribute to a community’s cultural diversity.
Cultural group members less disadvantaged by the reality of vertical multiculturalism may well be coping with integrating discontinuous cultures. But they may also be struggling with some cultural clarity issues for one or both of the cultures they need to integrate. Indeed, even cultural groups at the advantaged end of vertical multiculturalism may be confronted with cultural clarity issues. Advantaged groups will not have the clarity of their cultural identity threatened by oppression, but cultural identity clarity can also be compromised by sudden and dramatic social change. Global terrorism, civil rights changes, the ongoing march toward gender equality, the new global economy, and the revolution in technology may well be combining to destabilize the once clearly defined “Western” cultural identity (see, Taylor, 2002). For example, it has become recognized that male students (a historically privileged group) are now beginning to underperform academically relative to female students (Greig, 2003; Hammett & Sanford, 2008; Rowan, Knobel, Bigum, & Lankshear, 2002). Issues of cultural identity clarity might be central to understanding why those who are fortunate to be from an advantaged background may also underachieve.
The impact for advantaged groups cannot be compared with the consequences for those at the low end of vertical multiculturalism, but efforts at cultural clarification may well be needed. Furthermore, cultural clarity will be a necessary prerequisite for advantaged groups for them to be open to, and welcoming of, the many cultural groups who define the broader community. Indeed, public laments about the breakdown in values and lack of structure may well be a reflection of cultural clarity issues.
The majority of research concerning how individuals juggle and manage cultural diversity focus on what we label horizontal multiculturalism: multicultural contexts in which both cultural identities are of equal power and status (e.g., Benet-Martínez et al., 2002; Berry, 2005; Berry et al., 2006; Chen et al., 2008; Ryder, Alden, & Paulhus, 2000; Sam & Berry, 2010). The present study emphasizes vertical multiculturalism: multicultural contexts in which there are vast differences in power and status between cultural identities. We propose that central to vertical multiculturalism are issues of cultural identity clarity. Specifically, we argue that disadvantaged group members must struggle not only to integrate their cultural identities but also to maintain a clear perception of their cultural identities. The issue of cultural identity clarity is an important one in the context of multiculturalism as it may very well relate to the social challenges faced by societies most disadvantaged groups.
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2. Social status and anger expression: The cultural moderation hypothesis.
By: Park, Jiyoung; Kitayama, Shinobu; Markus, Hazel R.; Coe, Christopher L.; Miyamoto, Yuri; Karasawa, Mayumi; Curhan, Katherine B.; Love, Gayle D.; Kawakami, Norito; Boylan, Jennifer Morozink; Ryff, Carol D.; Emotion, Vol 13(6), Dec, 2013 pp. 1122-1131. Publisher: American Psychological Association; [Journal Article], Database: PsycINFO
Subjects: Anger; Social Class; Status; Adulthood (18 yrs & older); Thirties (30-39 yrs); Middle Age (40-64 yrs); Aged (65 yrs & older); Male; Female
Abstract:
Individuals with lower social status have been reported to express more anger, but this evidence comes mostly from Western cultures. Here, we used representative samples of American and Japanese adults and tested the hypothesis that the association between social status and anger expression depends on whether anger serves primarily to vent frustration, as in the United States, or to display authority, as in Japan. Consistent with the assumption that lower social standing is associated with greater frustration stemming from life adversities and blocked goals, Americans with lower social status expressed more anger, with the relationship mediated by the extent of frustration. In contrast, consistent with the assumption that higher social standing affords a privilege to display anger, Japanese with higher social status expressed more anger, with the relationship mediated by decision-making authority. As expected, anger expression was predicted by subjective social status among Americans and by objective social status among Japanese. Implications for the dynamic construction of anger and anger expression are discussed. (PsycINFO Database Record (c) 2013 APA, all rights reserved)
How is social status linked to anger expression? Is it people with lower or higher social standing who express more anger? In the present work, we suggest that the answer to this question varies by cultural context, depending on the relative significance of two functions of anger expression in a given culture. First, to the extent that anger expression is fueled by experiences of frustration ( Berkowitz, 1989 ), a negative link between social status and anger expression is likely, given that lower social status involves greater exposure to frustration-inducing life adversities, including blocked personal goals. As an alternative, to the extent that anger expression serves as a form of affective communication restricted largely to those in positions of power, a positive link between social status and anger expression is likely, given that higher social status entitles authority and power, including the privilege to express anger. The current work examines the hypothesis that although the two aspects of anger, serving to vent frustration and to display authority, are both involved in anger expression, which function will predominate depends crucially on culture, and relatedly determines the direction of the relationship between social status and anger expression. We tested this hypothesis in a cross-cultural comparison of representative samples of American and Japanese adults.
We define culture as a set of symbolic meanings collectively shared in public discourses, practices, and social institutions (Kitayama , Markus , Matsumoto, & Norasakkunkit, 1997; Markus & Kitayama , 2010 ; Morling & Lamoreaux, 2008). Because cultural differences in psychological tendencies are often related to the collectively shared meanings and practices, they are not always reducible to individual differences (Kitayama , Park, Sevincer, Karasawa , & Uskul, 2009; Na et al., 2010 ; Shweder, 1973). Here, we argue that because of divergent meanings and practices shared in Western versus Asian cultural contexts, the ways in which anger expression is associated with social status will vary across the two cultures.
Lower Social Status Fuels Anger Expression in the United States
Much prior work has formulated frustration as an antecedent to experiences of anger as well as its expression (e.g., aggression) that accompanies such experiences ( Berkowitz, 1989 ; Dollard, Miller, Doob, Mowrer, & Sears, 1939 ). Related literatures have shown that people with lower socioeconomic positions, who are likely to experience more frustration in life ( Markus , Ryff , Curhan , & Palmersheim, 2004 ), show more aggressive and delinquent behaviors ( Brownfield, 1986 ; Elliot & Ageton, 1980 ) and commit violent crimes such as homicide (Blau & Blau, 1982; Crutchfield, 1989 ; Parker, 1989 ). Although violence differs from anger in certain aspects and some forms of violence may not necessarily implicate anger ( Averill, 1982 ), the evidence linking lower social status to aggression suggests that anger expression is more prevalent among those of lower social status ( Henry, 2009 ).
At present, however, the association between social status and anger expression has been examined nearly exclusively in Western societies and cultures. Thus, it remains possible that the association between low social status and anger expression is more common in these cultures, where achieving personal goals is held to be highly self-defining and central to what personhood means (Kitayama & Uskul, 2011; Markus & Kitayama , 1991 ; Markus & Kitayama , 2010 ). Pursuit of personal goals is a key element of the culturally scripted task of independence. Our prediction for Americans thus draws attention to the life difficulties experienced by low status individuals, whose opportunities to pursue their personal goals may be fundamentally limited. When the pursuit of personal goals is blocked, it will likely fuel frustration, which may culminate in expressions of anger. Therefore, we predicted that in independent Western cultures, individuals of lower social status would express more anger.
Higher Social Status Enables Anger Expression in Japan
Unlike Western cultures where independence of the self is highly sanctioned, East Asian cultures place a greater premium on interdependence of the self with others (Kitayama & Uskul, 2011; Markus & Kitayama , 1991 ; Markus & Kitayama , 2010 ). Being part of an important group or relationship is highly self-defining and central to what it means to be a person in these cultures, because it is the key element of the culturally scripted task of interdependence (Kitayama et al., 2009). Such a strong cultural emphasis on belongingness and interdependence forms prohibitions against expressions of anger, because such expressions threaten ever-important relationships with others, and therefore are antithetical to the value of interdependence. Consistent with this formulation, expressed anger often has negative interpersonal consequences, such as derailing negotiations, especially in Asian cultures ( Adam, Shirako & Maddux, 2010 ; Kopelman & Rosette, 2008). Moreover, compared with European Americans, Asians place a greater value on suppression and control of emotions ( Matsumoto, Yoo, & Nakagawa, 2008 ) and hide their negative emotions better when they are asked to do so (Mauss & Butler, 2010; Murata, Moser, & Kitayama , 2013 ).
Although there is a general cultural prescription against displaying anger in Asian cultures, not everyone is expected to suppress anger. Some may still express anger if they feel that their expression of anger is culturally permitted and socially justified. We suggest that it is high social status among Asians that permits anger expression that might otherwise be suppressed. In other words, within the Asian cultural context, high social status might function as a cultural permit or authorization to express anger. This authorization may be called anger privilege ( Taylor & Risman, 2006 ). Because anger privilege is likely conferred on a limited number of people who are in positions of power, anger expression may function as an effective form of communication to display authority and exert dominance over others. We predicted, therefore, that in cultures where anger is normally suppressed, anger expression would be greater among those of higher social status.
Social Status: Subjective Versus Objective
By social status, we mean the socially recognized position a person maintains in a hierarchy that is considered desirable and, therefore, that confers privilege and entitlement ( Hales, Hobson, & Resutek, 2012 ; Huberman, Loch, & Önçüler, 2004). Social status can engender power because it is linked to resources, either symbolic or tangible, and often both. Likewise, it may be associated with respect, insofar as higher status individuals are sometimes conferred moral prestige (e.g., Ridgeway & Walker, 1995 ). Social status can be measured either objectively, in terms of socioeconomic indicators such as educational attainment and occupational prestige (e.g., Ritsher, Warner, Johnson, & Dohrenwend, 2001), or subjectively, in terms of each person’s judgment regarding his or her own standing relative to others (e.g., Adler, Epel, Castellazzo, & Ickovics, 2000 ; Cohen et al., 2008 ; Demakakos, Nazroo, Breeze, & Marmot, 2008). It is important that while subjective social status and objective social status are related, the relationship between the two is weak ( Adler et al., 2000 ).
Recent studies indicate that the relative significance of the two types of social status could vary across cultures. Specifically, in Western cultures, a strong emphasis is placed on personal attributes and, as a consequence, direct appraisals of the self tend to be more important than indirect (or reflected) appraisals of the self ( Cohen, Hoshino-Browne, & Leung, 2007 ). Correspondingly, one’s subjective appraisal of own social status (i.e., how high or low I think myself to be) should matter more than its objective counterpart (i.e., how high or low the society regards my social position to be). In contrast, in Asian cultures, much more emphasis is given to reflected appraisals of the self ( Cohen et al., 2007 ) and, as a consequence, socially consensual understanding about relative ranking counts far more than each person’s subjective and potentially idiosyncratic assessments. As such, objective social status should matter much more than its subjective counterpart. Consistent with this analysis, Curhan and colleagues (2013) found that subjective social status predicts Americans’ positive psychological functioning (e.g., life satisfaction, positive affect, and psychological well-being) more strongly, while objective social status predicts Japanese’ positive psychological functioning more strongly.
On the basis of these considerations, we anticipated that the hypothesized negative association between social status and anger expression among Americans would be particularly pronounced when the status was assessed subjectively based on each person’s appraisal of his or her own social position. Conversely, we anticipated that the positive association between social status and anger expression, predicted for Japanese, would be particularly pronounced when the status was assessed objectively in terms of socioeconomic indicators.
In addition to testing the primary predictions above, we examined possible mediators for both the relationship between subjective social status and anger expression among Americans and the relationship between objective social status and anger expression among Japanese. For Americans, we predicted a negative association between subjective social status and anger expression because low status individuals would be likely to experience more frustration, which in turn prompts them to express anger. We thus anticipated that the link between subjective social status and anger expression would be mediated by feelings of frustration. For Japanese, we predicted a positive association between objective social status and anger expression because high-status individuals would likely have greater authority and power, which in turn entails a cultural privilege to express anger. We adopted perceived decision-making authority at work as a proxy of this privilege, anticipating that the link between objective social status and anger expression would be mediated by decision authority.
Participants
Our analysis was based on large matched surveys of Americans and Japanese. American respondents were a subset from the Midlife in the United States (MIDUS) survey, which began in 1995. It is a national probability sample recruited through random digit dialing (RDD). The respondents completed both a telephone interview and a self-administered questionnaire. Using the same assessments, a follow-up survey was conducted in 2004 (MIDUS II; response rate = 75%). The current analysis focuses on a subset of MIDUS II respondents (1,054 adults, aged 34–84), who participated in an additional overnight session for biological assessments (with a 43.1% retention rate). The response rate was somewhat low, but this sample was not substantially different from the MIDUS II sample on most sociodemographic and health characteristics ( Love, Seeman, Weinstein, & Ryff , 2010 ). The parallel survey, the Midlife in Japan (MIDJA), was conducted in 2008, with respondents randomly selected from the Tokyo metropolitan area. These respondents completed a self-administered questionnaire that was developed from the MIDUS instruments. The final sample in MIDJA consisted of 1,027 adults (aged 30–79; response rate = 56.2%).
Measures
Objective social status
Two objective markers of social status (educational attainment and occupation) were assessed. Educational attainment was assessed on a 7-point scale (1 = 8th grade, junior high school, 7 = attended or graduate from graduate school). Current occupational status was assessed on a 3-point scale (1 = manual, blue-collar, or service, 2 = nonmanual, white-collar, or clerical, 3 = managerial or professional). The two indices were standardized and averaged within culture to yield a single indicator of objective social status.
Subjective social status
Following prior research (e.g., Adler et al., 2000 ), respondents were presented with a picture of a ladder, which had 10 rungs (1 = lowest, 10 = highest; Goodman et al., 2001 ) and asked to choose a rung corresponding to their standing in their “own community.” What community meant was left open so that respondents could choose whatever made sense to them. The respondents were thus allowed to choose culturally relevant criteria in judging their relative status (see also Leu et al., 2008). This procedure is important because social status is likely to have greater impact when it is defined with respect to a community that is most meaningful to each individual ( Conley, 2008 ).
Anger expression
Anger expression was assessed with the 8-item anger-out subscale of the Anger Expression Inventory (Spielberger, 1996). Respondents rated how often (1 = almost never, 4 = almost always) they expressed angry feelings through verbally or physically aggressive behaviors when they felt furious and angry (e.g., I slam doors, I say nasty things; αs = .75 and .80 for Americans and Japanese, respectively).
A confirmatory factor analysis was used to establish measurement equivalence of anger expression between the two cultural groups. Two hierarchically nested models were compared: an unconstrained model (Model A), in which no constraints were placed on factor loadings across the two cultural groups, and a constrained one (Model B), in which the factor loadings were constrained to be equal across the two groups. First, the unconstrained model (Model A) provided a good fit (Comparative Fit Index [CFI] = .96, Root Mean Square Error of Approximation [RMSEA] = .06, 90% confidence interval [CI] = .050, .066). Second, when the factor loadings were constrained to be equal in the two cultural groups, the fit was no worse (Model B; CFI = .95, RMSEA = .06, 90% CI = .051, .064), with the CFI score barely different from the one for the unconstrained model. These findings establish factor equivalence across the two cultural groups ( Cheung & Rensvold, 2002 ).
Control variables
In testing our predictions, we controlled for several personality traits that could potentially confound the relationship between social status and anger expression. This included BIG FIVE personality traits, except for neuroticism (i.e., agreeableness, conscientiousness, extraversion, and openness to experience). Neuroticism was excluded as a control variable because of a substantive overlap it has with hostility in general ( McCrae, 1991 ) and anger proneness in particular ( Martin, Watson, & Wan, 2000 ). In fact, trait hostility and anger are typically considered as two important facets of neuroticism ( Costa, McCrae, & Dembroski, 1989 ; Smith, Glazer, Ruiz, & Gallo, 2004 ). Each of the remaining four personality traits was assessed by self-ratings of four pertinent personality adjectives: agreeableness (e.g., helpful, warm), conscientiousness (e.g., organized, responsible), extraversion (e.g., outgoing, lively), and openness to experience (e.g., creative, imaginative). Respondents rated how much each of the adjectives described them (1 = not at all, 4 = a lot; Rossi, 2001 ; agreeableness, αs = .87 and .82 for Americans and Japanese, respectively, conscientiousness, αs = .57 and .61, extraversion, αs = .83 and .78, and openness to experience, αs = .84 and .77). In addition, prior work shows that younger (vs. older) adults and males (vs. females) tend to express more anger ( Spielberger, Gerard, & Rosario, 1983 ; Spielberger, Reheiser, & Sydeman, 1995). We therefore controlled for age and gender as well.
Mediating variables
To test whether anger expression would be fostered by frustration (for Americans) or power and authority (for Japanese), we used two mediating variables. To assess the experience of frustration, we used a 1-item rating of frustration participants reported to have felt during the past 30 days (1 = none of the time, 5 = all of the time). To measure the experience of authority and power, we used a self-reported rating of authority in decision-making. Respondents rated how often (1 = none of the time, 5 = all of the time) they felt that they had decision authority at work by completing an 8-item scale (Bosma & Marmot, 1997; e.g., How often do you have a say in decisions about your work? How often do you have a choice in deciding what tasks you do at work?; αs = .87 and .88 for Americans and Japanese, respectively).
Descriptive Analysis
Descriptive statistics for the key variables and intercorrelations among those variables for each cultural group are presented in
Tables 1
and
2
, respectively. Respondents in the two cultural groups were matched on age (Americans: M = 55.26, SD = 11.78 vs. Japanese: M = 54.36, SD = 14.15), gender (female: 54.7% vs. 50.8%), and marital status (married: 72.2% vs. 69.3%). The mean level of subjective social status was significantly higher for Americans than for Japanese. Cultural difference in objective social status was not tested because the two indicators of objective social status were standardized within culture. As in prior work (e.g.,
Adler et al., 2000
), the two types of social status were positively correlated, but only weakly, suggesting that they are distinct from one another (r = .20 for Americans and r = .23 for Japanese; ps < .001). Americans reported that they express more anger than Japanese did, consistent with the notion that anger tends to be suppressed more in Japan than in the United States. Furthermore, consistent with the notion that personal goals are more salient and important for Americans than for Japanese, Americans experienced more frustration (which supposedly results from blocked personal goals) relative to Japanese. Finally, decision authority at work was also higher for Americans than for Japanese.
Descriptive Statistics of the Key Variables and Cultural Differences in Those Variables
Intercorrelations Among the Key Variables for Americans and Japanese
Association Between Subjective Versus Objective Social Status and Anger Expression
We had two primary predictions. First, Americans would show a negative association between subjective (rather than objective) social status and anger expression. Second, Japanese would show a positive association between objective (rather than subjective) social status and anger expression. In combination, these predictions would result in two significant interactions: Culture × Subjective social status and Culture × Objective social status.
The key interactions were tested in a hierarchical multiple regression analysis. In Step 1, culture (represented with a binary variable indicating Americans = 0 and Japanese = 1), subjective social status, and objective social status were entered (Model 1). In Step 2, we examined the interaction between culture and subjective social status and the interaction between culture and objective social status, respectively (Models 2-A and 2-B). In Step 3, to determine whether each interaction would remain significant after controlling for relevant covariates, we entered demographic variables (age and gender) and the personality variables (agreeableness, conscientiousness, extraversion, and openness to experience; Models 3-A and 3-B).
The results from the hierarchical regression analysis are summarized in Table 3 . Consistent with the descriptive analysis above, the main effect of culture was significant, indicating that Americans reported that they expressed more anger than Japanese did, b = −.71, t(2003) = −4.80, p < .001. The main effects of both subjective social status and objective social status were also significant, indicating that overall, anger expression decreased with subjective social status, b = −.13, t(2003) = −3.27, p = .001, but increased with objective social status, b = .35, t
(2003)=4.11.p<.001.
Unstandardized Regression Coefficients in Predicting Anger Expression as a Function of Culture, Social Status, and the Interaction Between Culture and Social Status
Crucially, the interaction between culture and subjective social status proved significant (Model 2-A), b = .16, t(2002) = 2.08, p < .05. As shown in
Figure 1A
, Americans with lower subjective social standing reported that they expressed more anger, b = −.22, t(2002) = −3.71, p < .001. For Japanese, however, the association between subjective social status and anger expression was negligible, b = −.06, t(2002) = −1.23, nonsignificant (ns). Moreover, this interaction effect remained significant when the potentially confounding variables were controlled (Model 3-A), b = .17, t(1996) = 2.31, p < .05.
Figure 1. The relationships between anger expression and social status (A, subjective, B, objective) for Americans (solid line) and Japanese (dashed line). Americans with lower subjective social status expressed more anger than Americans with higher subjective social status, b = −.22, t(2002) = −3.71, p < .001. In contrast, Japanese with higher objective social status expressed more anger than Japanese with lower objective social status, b = .64, t(2002) = 5.15, p < .001. Statistical significance is indicated by asterisks (*** p < .001).
Equally important, the interaction between culture and objective social status also proved significant (Model 2-B), b = .53, t(2002) = 3.20, p = .001. A subsequent simple slope analysis showed that the Japanese slope was significantly positive, b = .64, t(2002) = 5.15, p < .001, indicating that Japanese of higher objective social standing reportedly expressed more anger ( Figure 1B ). For Americans, however, the association between objective social status and anger expression was absent, b = .11, t(2002) < 1, ns. It is important that the Culture × Objective social status interaction remained significant when the potentially confounding variables were controlled (Model 3-B), b = .37, t(1996) = 2.34, p < .05.
Mediation Analysis
To determine whether the association between subjective social status and anger expression, observed for Americans, would be mediated by frustration, a mediation analysis was performed. Results were very similar regardless of whether the personality and demographic variables were controlled. In assessing mediation effects, we used a bias-corrected bootstrapping test with 2,000 replications. This analysis shows a CI for an indirect effect that is tested. When the CI does not include zero, the mediation is considered significant ( MacKinnon, Fairchild, & Fritz, 2007 ; Shrout & Bolger, 2002).
Subjective social status was negatively related to both frustration and anger expression, b = −.14, t(1033) = −9.48, p < .001, and b = −.18, t(1033) = −3.26, p < .01, respectively. When both subjective social status and frustration were entered as joint predictors of anger expression, the path from subjective social status to anger expression was no longer significant, b = −.06, t(1032) = −1.01, ns. It is important that the relationship between frustration and anger expression remained significant, b = .92, t(1032) = 7.80, p < .001. A bootstrapping test indicated that the mediated path from subjective social status to anger expression through frustration was statistically significant (95% bias-corrected bootstrapping CI = [−.17, −.08]; see Panel A of
Figure 2
). The comparable mediation with decision authority as a mediator was not significant for Americans: Whereas decision authority increased with subjective social status, b = .75, t(737) = 7.68, p < .001, it did not increase anger expression, b = −.04, t(736) = −1.50, ns (95% bias-correctedC1=[-.08,.01].
Figure 2. Results of mediation analyses examining the role of frustration (A) and decision authority (B) in mediating the relationship between social status and anger expression for Americans (N = 1,035) and Japanese (N = 728), respectively. Unstandardized coefficients are shown. The values in parentheses show the relationship between subjective (or objective) social status and anger expression after controlling for frustration (or decision authority). The values in square brackets are 95% bias-corrected confidence intervals from a bootstrap test with 2,000 replications; the mediation is significant if the confidence interval does not include zero. * p < .05. ** p < .01. *** p < .001.
We also performed a comparable analysis to determine whether the association between objective social status and anger expression, observed for Japanese, would be mediated by decision authority. As expected, objective social status was positively related to both decision authority, b = 2.26, t(726) = 9.11, p < .001, and anger expression, b = .33, t(726) = 2.02, p < .05. Moreover, when both objective social status and decision authority were entered as joint predictors of anger expression, the path from objective social status to anger expression was no longer significant, b = .16, t(725) < 1, ns. It is important that the relationship between decision authority and anger expression remained significant, b = .07, t(725) = 3.07, p < .01. The mediated path from objective social status to anger expression through decision authority was statistically significant (95% bias-corrected CI = [.05, .31]; see Panel B of Figure 2 ). An additional analysis with frustration as a mediator was not significant for Japanese: Whereas frustration significantly increased anger expression, b = 1.00, t(1004) = 8.27, p < .001, it did not vary as a function of objective social status, b = .03, t(1005) = 1.09, ns (95% bias-corrected CI = [−.03, .10]).
Dynamic Construction of Anger Expression Across Cultures
Previous work suggests that individuals with lower social standing are more prone to aggression and violence (e.g., Blau & Blau, 1982; Brownfield, 1986 ; Crutchfield, 1989 ; Elliot & Ageton, 1980 ; Parker, 1989 ). Consistent with this literature, the present work shows that social status and anger expression are negatively associated. It is important, however, that the association was observed only for Americans. For Japanese, the association was reversed, with higher status individuals expressing more anger. The cultural moderation demonstrated here on the relationship between social status and anger expression calls for thoughtful interpretation of how culture, defined as collectively shared meanings and practices, modulates the ways in which the emotion of anger is expressed.
We followed earlier analyses by Markus, Kitayama, and colleagues (Kitayama & Uskul, 2011; Markus & Kitayama , 1991 ; Markus & Kitayama , 2010 ), arguing that in Western cultures, independence of the self from others is highly sanctioned, with pursuit of personal goals deemed central in defining the self. In these cultural contexts, anger is likely fueled by blockage of personal goals and desires. This emotion may in fact be motivated by a desire to restore the sense of independence (Kitayama , Mesquita, & Karasawa , 2006). While the blockage of personal goals, by itself, is aversive and thus to be avoided, the motivation to restore independence can be highly self-affirming. Within these cultural contexts, then, individuals with low social standing may be expected to express more anger, not only because personal goals are more likely to be blocked because of limited resources, but also because anger helps them to vindicate the self as an independent and, thus, culturally validated or respectable agent.
In support of this formulation, American adults with lower social status reported that they express more anger, relative to their higher social status counterparts. Moreover, this relationship was mediated by the experience of frustration. It is important that this association was clearly observed for subjective social status, but not for objective social status. This finding is consistent with the notion that subjective appraisals of the self are relatively more important within independent cultural contexts ( Cohen et al., 2007 ; Kitayama , Snibbe, Markus , & Suzuki, 2004; Na & Kitayama , 2012 ). In fact, we found no relationship between objective social status and anger expression in our American sample. Note, however, that the present findings should probably not be taken to imply that Americans never respond to their own objective social status. They in fact do oftentimes (e.g., Kraus, Côté, & Keltner, 2010 ; Piff, Stancato, Martinez, Kraus, & Keltner, 2012). It may well be the case that in this cultural context objective social status may matter only insofar as it is reflected in one’s subjective appraisal of his or her own status ( Kraus, Piff, Mendoza-Denton, Rheinschmidt, & Keltner, 2012 ).
In contrast, in Asian cultures, interdependence of the self with others is strongly sanctioned, with social positions and roles seen as central in the definition of the self. The emphasis on belongingness and social harmony creates a strong norm against expressions of anger because anger disrupts social harmony. However, those in positions of power are granted a privilege to freely express anger. In this cultural context, anger serves to display power and authority. Accordingly, even though anger is negative in valence and, thus, experienced as aversive, expressing it may affirm one’s status and reputation for those higher in social ranking. Thus, individuals with high status standing would be expected to express more anger, not only because they are freer from cultural restrictions on anger expression, but also because so doing is status-affirming.
In support of this formulation, Japanese adults with higher social status reported that they expressed more anger, compared with their lower social status counterparts. Moreover, this relationship was mediated by their perceived decision authority. Importantly, this association was clearly observed for objective social status, but not for subjective social status. This finding is consistent with the notion that within interdependent cultural contexts, it is socially shared understanding of each other’s social positions that matters the most. That is, one’s appraisal of his or her own social status standing may count little unless grounded in socially shared, consensual criteria of social standing, such as educational attainment and occupational prestige.
Frustration and Dominance as Universal Facets of Anger
We started out this article with an assumption that anger has two important facets, namely, venting frustration and displaying dominance. Thus, even though our finding suggests that Americans express anger so as to vent frustration, these results need not imply that Americans fail to recognize dominance as an important facet of anger. For example, Tiedens (2001) and colleagues (Tiedens, Ellsworth, & Mesquita, 2000; see also Hareli, Shomrat, & Hess, 2009) show that Americans infer high status and dominance in target persons who express anger (vs. sadness)—a finding that is consistent with cognitive appraisal patterns suggested for anger ( Smith & Ellsworth, 1985 ). Moreover, when faced with certain controlled situations, where status differences in symbolic or tangible resources are irrelevant in making the interaction episodes more frustrating for lower status individuals, higher status Americans appear to express more anger relative to their lower status counterparts (Keltner, Gruenfeld, & Anderson, 2003).
Thus, dominance display can be a reliable motivator for anger expression even among Americans when frustration is irrelevant as an elicitor of anger. A similar duality is evident among Japanese. That is, even though our Japanese finding suggests that Japanese express anger when they have enough power and status to display, they also recognize that frustration is part and parcel of the experience of anger. In fact, in our study the correlation between anger and frustration was as high for Japanese (r = .57, p < .001) as for Americans (r = .66, p < .001).
We therefore suggest that frustration and dominance are two facets of anger that are universally recognized. Yet, cultures place a different emphasis on one or the other such that the functional relationship between the two facets varies across cultures. Specifically, people in independent cultures may be more likely to express anger when they are frustrated (rather than when they have power to display) because their personal goals are highly salient. Thus, the primary determinant of anger expression is experience of frustration. Yet, by expressing anger, these individuals might restore the sense of dominance and personal control (Depret & Fiske, 1993; Frieze & Boneva, 2001 ). This secondary function of anger is made possible by the association anger has with the sense of dominance and control. However, people in interdependent cultures may be more likely to express anger when their higher status entitles them to do so. Thus, the primary determinant of anger expression is dominance to display (rather than frustration to vent). Yet, when experiencing and displaying anger, Japanese may also take note of frustrations that are linked to the experience of anger—frustrations that could be attributed to their subordinates, who might be perceived to be failing to fully conform to their high expectations. This secondary function of anger may enable high-status Japanese to experience their anger, not merely as a public display that is unaccompanied by true feelings, but rather as a reflection of heartfelt frustrations over the subordinates.
Limitations and Future Directions
Several shortcomings of the current work should be noted. First, we did not specify the targets of anger expression. Although anger can be expressed without an explicit target (Felson, 2002; Graham et al., 2006 ), it is often explicitly directed to particular individuals or groups. Future work is necessary to examine whether Americans and Japanese express anger to individuals of different social status (high vs. low), depending on the motive to vent frustration or to display authority. A second limitation stems from our mediation analysis. The degree of decision authority, which mediated the relationship between social status and anger expression among Japanese, was assessed in the work domain, while their anger expression was assessed regardless of domains. Future research should refine assessments of general versus specific domains of power and authority as mediators of the findings among Japanese. Third, the current work only tested a self-report measure of anger expression. Although evidence exists that self-reported expression of anger is highly associated with behavioral indices of aggression, such as lifetime arrests for violence (Oberleitner, Mandel, & Easton, 2013) and domestic and intimate-partner violence ( Barbour, Eckhardt, Davison, & Kassinove, 1998 ; Norlander & Eckhardt, 2005), future work should directly test whether the current findings generalize to behavioral indices of anger expression. Fourth, the presumed causal roles ascribed to frustration and perceived authority and power in accounting for the relationships between social status and anger expression among Americans and Japanese, respectively, need to be tested with experimental methods in the future.
These limitations notwithstanding, the current work tested novel cross-cultural predictions with large-scale representative samples of American and Japanese adults and found that culture moderates the relationship between social status and anger expression. This conclusion is important in light of recent findings suggesting that culture shapes even biological processes of emotion and emotion regulation (Mauss & Butler, 2010; Murata et al., 2013 ). How biological and neural underpinnings of anger (e.g., Harmon-Jones, Peterson, & Harmon-Jones, 2010 ) are shaped and modified by specific aspects of social and cultural processes (Kitayama & Uskul, 2011) constitute critical challenges for future research. This effort will contribute to a recently emerging field of cultural neuroscience (Chiao & Ambady, 2007; Han & Northoff, 2008 ; Kitayama & Park, 2010). At a broad conceptual level, the current inquiry illustrates worthwhile initial steps in this direction.
1 Caution is due in interpreting any effects of conscientiousness because the quantification of this construct has low reliability.
2 One might argue that one’s propensity to express (or suppress) emotions can influence the relationships between social status and anger expression. To address this issue, we controlled for individual difference in emotion control, which was assessed with a 6-item scale developed by Gross and John (2003 ; e.g., When I am feeling negative emotions, such as sadness or anger, I make sure not to express them). The critical Culture × Social status interactions remained significant, Culture × Subjective social status: b = .15, t(1991) = 2.18, p < .05; Culture × Objective social status: b = .45, t(1991) = 2.96, p < .01.
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Submitted: October 15, 2012 Revised: July 5, 2013 Accepted: July 5, 2013
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Scholarly Reference
3. Ageing and Cultural Diversity: Policy and Practice Issues.
By: Warburton, Jeni; Bartlett, Helen; Rao, Visala. Australian Social Work. Jun2009, Vol. 62 Issue 2, p168-185. 18p. DOI: 10.1080/03124070902748886.
Subjects: Cultural pluralism; Older people -- Care; Social isolation; Multiculturalism; Social groups; Social distance; Australia; Continuing Care Retirement Communities
Ageing and Cultural Diversity: Policy and Practice Issues
Jeni Warburton, Helen Bartlett, & Visala Rao Australasian Centre on Ageing, The University of Queensland, Brisbane, Queensland, Australia
Abstract
The proportion of older people from culturally and linguistically diverse backgrounds is projected to increase significantly over the next decade, with the composition shifting
from a mainly European base to include new source countries from Asia and Africa. This
growth and complexity provides a range of challenges for practitioners and policy makers
working in this field. The present paper draws on a multimethod scoping study designed
to explore these challenges and identify practice responses. Data from a review of current
literature, as well as from key informer interviews and a symposium held in Queensland,
are reported in this paper and their compatibility with broader national and international studies discussed and noted. Findings highlight the particular challenges associated with service provision, developing appropriate models of aged care, and addressing social isolation. Conclusions focus on the need for a more rigorous research agenda to highlight and evaluate effective practice solutions; the need for a strengths based approach in working with these communities, recognising the contribution made by community leaders, volunteers, and others; and the need to work in partnership to achieve ageing-well outcomes. Keywords: Diversity And Ageing; Multicultural Ageing; Service Provision; Culturally Appropriate Practice And Policy; Aged; Culturally Sensitive Social Work; Diversity In Australia, as with other developed countries, there is evidence of a rapid increase in the proportion of the population aged 65 years and over as a result of the low fertility rate and increased life expectancy. At the 2006 Census, 13% of the population, or 2.64 million Australians, were aged 65 years and over, and this number has been projected to increase to 27% of the population by 2051. Census data also suggest that the
highest rate of growth in the proportion of those aged over 65 years will occur
between 2010 and 2020 due to the ageing of the post-war baby boomer generation
(individuals born between 1945 and 1960; Australian Bureau of Statistics [ABS],
2006). A further well-known demographic feature of Australia is its rich cultural
diversity, with Australia having the second largest overseas-born population among
Organization For Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) countries
(Dumont & Lemaitre, 2005; Weston, Qu, & Soriano, 2003). Overseas-born
Australians comprise approximately 23% of the total population, although a further
26% of those born in Australia have at least one overseas-born parent, reflecting
migration and intermarriage patterns over time (ABS, 2005). According to the 2006
Census, Australians represent more than 250 different ancestries (ABS, 2006).
The proportion of older people from culturally and linguistically diverse (CALD)
backgrounds is predicted to grow significantly over time, reaching 22.5% of the total
older population by 2011 (ABS, 2005). In addition, the composition of this group is
changing as a result of new patterns and waves of migration since 1901 and can be
said to have moved from a primarily Anglo-Celtic base to a universal multicultural
nation (Weston, Qu, & Soriano, 2003). During the days of the White Australia Policy,
migrants from Eastern, Western, and Northern Europe settled in Australia. Southern
Europeans stated to arrive in the 1950s, followed by migrants from Eastern Europe
and the Middle East. The White Australia Policy was abolished by the mid-1970s,
paving the way for non-European migration, especially from Asia (ABS, 2002). These
patterns are important because they highlight the many different cultures and languages in the migrant population, as well as differences in the length of time migrants have been in Australia, their reasons for coming, and their settlement experiences.
This diversity is exhibited among the older population, with the This diversity is exhibited among the older population, with the 2006 Census showing that although European countries (Italy, Greece, and Germany) remain the top countries of birth for those aged over 65 years, the number of people from Asian countries is increasing, with China the fourth highest (ABS, 2006). Changes to the proportion and mix of countries among the older CALD population present a range of challenges to governments, service providers, and community organisations, and it
is these challenges that are the focus of the present paper. More specifically, the paper
explores the following two research questions (RQ): 1. What are the issues facing practitioners and policymakers working with older people from CALD backgrounds? 2. How should we respond to these challenges?
Method
The project was conducted in three phases, using a holistic approach to explore the
linkages and synergies across issues associated with ageing and cultural diversity. The
Australian Social Work 169
first phase of the project involved an assessment based on a review of the existing
literature in the area. An extensive search of the evidence was conducted focusing
mainly on Australian studies and using (a) electronic databases, (b) various websites
of organisations such as the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare (AIHW), and
(c) selected grey literature and unpublished reports. Details of the literature review
searches and findings of the review (phase 1) have been described in greater detail in
Rao, Warburton, and Bartlett (2006).
In the present paper, we also include the findings from two participatory phases of the project in an attempt to broaden the findings to include the voices of those working with older people from CALD backgrounds. This is deemed particularly appropriate because we have undertaken these phases in response to a body of Australian literature that we identified as limited, small scale, and localised (Rao et al., 2006). The two additional phases involved consultations with key stakeholders from relevant community organisations, service providers, and policy makers in
Queensland. The dialogue was intended to raise issues and understandings from the perspective of those working in the field in order to contribute towards RQ1 but, more specifically, to explore the ways in which they are responding to these challenges (RQ2).
The study included two consultation phases. The first comprised a series of
consultations with key informants in the area identified through purposive sampling
techniques using an expert reference panel of practitioners, policy makers, and
researchers. Twenty-one people, including a sample from rural and regional
Queensland, were consulted individually by telephone using a structured interview
questionnaire aimed at identifying strengths and areas of concern in the knowledge
base and current service responses (Phase 2). The participants (n_21) were a diverse
group and included (a) members of community organisations (n_4; P1_4); (b)
service providers in community, health, and aged care (n_11; P5_15); (c) local and
state government policy makers (n_5; P16_20); and (d) a researcher (n_1; P21).
Extensive notes were taken from the telephone interviews and the data were analysed
later for key themes.
The project concluded with a symposium held in Brisbane (Phase 3). The main
objectives of the symposium were to (a) bring key players together and to provide a
forum for free and wide-ranging discussions on all aspects relating to older people
from CALD backgrounds, (b) brainstorm potential innovation and solutions, and (c)
establish an agenda for future research and actions. Sixty-two participants from
government departments, multicultural community organisations, service providers,
and researchers in Queensland attended the day symposium. The first author of the
present study facilitated the day and participants were divided into discussion groups
on issues associated with ageing identified from the literature review. Findings from
each discussion group were noted and analysed later by theme in order to develop
some key recommendations from the symposium.
The present article explores findings from these three phases together in order to
highlight key challenges and issues (RQ1) in the first section of the paper. It then goes on to explore potential responses to the challenges of ageing in a culturally diverse
Australia (RQ2).
Results
It is clear from the literature that problems and issues encountered by older people from CALD backgrounds, governments, and service providers are not unique to Australia, but are very similar to those reported in many European countries, Canada and the US (e.g., Smith & Gerstorf, 2006). Older people from CALD backgrounds, like any other older person, require support and care in maintaining their physical, emotional, and social wellbeing. However, their needs may differ or become more complex than those of other older people simply because of their cultural and linguistic diversity. As shown by a number of Australian and international studies,
some key intersecting issues can be identified that impact on outcomes for older
people from diverse backgrounds and their families and are hence critical for effective
service provision and policy decisions (Bartlett, Rao, & Warburton, 2006; Blakemore,
1999; Caboolture and Redcliffe Multicultural Aged Network [CARM], 2003; Hugo,
2000; Queensland Health, 2005; Roney, McKay, Schweizer, & Spanish Community
Respite Care Association, 2002; Torres, 2001; Warnes, Friedrich, Kellaher, & Torres,
2004; Williams, Cartwright, Steinberg, & King, 1999).
Key intersecting issues include migration and settlement experience, cultural
differences and practices, and language and communication. Clearly, migrants who
are refugees or who have experienced torture or trauma in their country of origin
present particular issues for social work practice. Thus, as respondents at the
symposium in Brisbane pointed out, diversity is not only evidenced in the language
spoken and the culture of the community of origin, but is also manifest in other
dimensions, such as diversity of understanding and diversity of experiences. However,
issues faced by those from CALD backgrounds can also be exacerbated by a number of
other factors related to culture and experience, including financial disadvantage as a
result of a lack of access to superannuation cover and increased reliance on the age
pension (Batrouney & Stone, 1998). Similarly, geographical location can exacerbate
problems, with those living in rural and remote regions facing additional issues in
accessing appropriate social, health, and aged care services (Department of Health and
Ageing, 2002). This complexity needs to be acknowledged in exploring issues facing
practitioners and policy makers working with older people from CALD backgrounds.
In the findings below, we focus on some of the key issues and challenges that
emerged from both the literature and participatory phases of the present study. We
focus on three key areas of particular importance to social work practice, namely (a)
service provision, particularly in relation to health services; (b) models of aged care
and appropriate housing options; and (c) social isolation. Other issues discussed at
the symposium, including financial capacity and transport, will be discussed within
these headings. Following this discussion, we focus on some of the responses and
innovative practices that begin to address these challenges.
Issues Facing Those Working with Older People from CALD Backgrounds
Service Provision
Participants in both phases of the study identified the provision of services as a major
consideration, with agreement that, for a range of reasons, older people from CALD
backgrounds are not adequately using the services provided. Reasons for the lower
utilisation of services proposed by participants included differences in culture, such
as a lack of awareness, a reluctance to get help from strangers, and differences between
generic and multicultural services; and language issues, particularly poor English
language proficiency. These problems are also documented in the literature, which
suggests that, unless addressed, they will grow simply due to the increasing size of the
older CALD population (AIHW, 2006; Fennelly, 2005; Quine, 1999). Particular
challenges for service providers can perhaps be best explored in terms of both cultural
and language difficulties.
Much of the literature focuses on problems relating to access to health services. As
noted in the literature, cultural differences between the patient and the medical
practitioner can lead to misunderstandings, as well as the potential for misdiagnosis.
In the Australian context, the need for health professionals to have adequate
education and skills to provide culturally competent and sensitive care has been
proposed (Hsu, Lee, & O’Connor, 2005; Queensland Health, 2005). There is a strong
North American literature on cultural competence with entire texts devoted to crosscultural
counselling (McAuliffe & Associates, 2008; Poneterroto, Casas, Suzuki, &
Alexander, 1995). Further, some European studies have highlighted the need for
nursing staff to develop cultural awareness and sensitivity (Bartlett, 1998; Ekblad,
Marttila, & Emilsson, 2000).
There is considerable debate in the social work practice literature centred on the
advocacy of competency approaches. Dean (2001) and Furlong and Mansel-Lees
(2004) rejected training practitioners in such an approach, arguing that it is
unrealistic for practitioners to develop a competent or expert knowledge of another
culture. They argue that such an approach may lead to totalising identities or
stereotyping particular cultures. However, Maidment (2009) contended that practitioners
do need to develop their skills and knowledge when working with different
cultural groups. In her Australian research with older people from CALD backgrounds,
Maidment (2009) found that this group appreciated those workers who had
developed some cultural knowledge and very basic language skills of their country of
origin. Despite some differences in approaches, both sides of the debate argue the
importance of recognising the client as the expert on his or her culture and of
practitioners taking the time to hear client’s stories. As Quinn (2003, p. 89) noted, ‘‘it
is very important to accept the position of learner, which involves deep respect and
humility’’.
This issue of cultural awareness and competence was an important theme raised at
the symposium, as well as during the informer interviews during phase two of the
study. During the informer interviews, service providers highlighted the particular need for culturally appropriate ways of dealing with sensitive social problems, such as
elder abuse or family violence, in order to encourage those from diverse backgrounds
to seek help.
Migration coupled with ageing appears to play a significant role in mental health
(Thomas, 1999). Findings from the National Survey of Mental Health and Wellbeing
revealed that an estimated 216,000 adult Australians who speak a language other than
English experience some form of mental disorder, with an increased prevalence of
psychological distress (5.3%) compared with those who spoke English at home
(3.2%; ABS, 2001). Despite this, patients from CALD backgrounds appear to
underutilise mental health services (Ziguras, 1997). Similar findings have been
reported for those suffering dementia, with older people from CALD backgrounds
generally presenting at a later stage of the disease and with increased rates of
psychiatric disorders (Hassett & George, 2002; LoGiudice, Hassett, Cook, Flicker, &
Ames, 2001). The reason commonly given for the underutilisation of mental health
services is that migrants with CALD backgrounds often come from countries where
psychiatric disorders have a social stigma or they are unaware of services available
because their country of origin does not provide such services (Wynaden et al., 2005).
Wynaden et al. (2005) also identified the lack of collaboration between health
professionals and the community as a problem in terms of mental health services.
Further challenges raised in the literature relate to issues of language in accessing
and using services. Thus, for example, in a study of older people from four different
linguistic groups, inadequate English language was identified as the key barrier to
participating in exercise programs beneficial for social, mental, and physical wellbeing
(Lewis, Szabo, Weiner, McCall, & Piterman, 1997). Service providers participating in
phase 2 of the present study also highlighted the difficulties experienced by those
within the community who do not speak English, highlighting, for example, the
specific needs of CALD grandparents who may be unable to access help when caring
for grandchildren. This may also be exacerbated because those without English
language ability may experience particular problems in using technology to access
services, including the Web and telephone information services.
Certainly, the ability to speak English is key to accessing many services; yet, there is
evidence suggesting that even bilingual older migrants may lose their ability to speak
English and revert back to their first language (Rowland, 1999; Orb, 2002). This
evidence was supported by observations of phase 2 participants in the present study,
who suggested that the result of such a loss was often an increase in social isolation.
In a report to the Australian Nursing Journal, it was suggested that this may especially
be the case for people suffering from dementia, whose communication is further
compromised by dementia-associated cognitive and language deterioration (Anonymous,
2004). Those with dementia are often seen late in the progress of the disease,
just as other studies have found increased hospitalisation late in life among older
people from CALD backgrounds (Chan et al., 2003). There is no doubt that language
proficiency and the ability to communicate has a significant impact on the capacity of
older people from CALD backgrounds to access and use healthcare services at an appropriately early stage in their illness. Some participants in phase 2 of the present
study suggested that gender is important, with women from CALD backgrounds
more likely to experience difficulties as they age, particularly because they are less
likely to have had access to English language classes and are more likely to rely on
their spouse for finance and transport (for further discussion, see Arber, 2006).
Models of Aged Care
The heterogeneity of older people from CALD backgrounds, both between and
within groups, poses a problem in finding culturally appropriate aged care services.
The evidence shows that people from CALD backgrounds use less residential and
community services than those born in Australia (Hogan, 2004; Karmel, Jenkins,
Angus, Bowler, & Braun, 2003). For those who do use mainstream residential care
facilities, there may be particular challenges in obtaining culturally appropriate care
from services providers.
At the symposium, participants highlighted the importance of both equality of
access to residential aged care and good outcomes in terms of the services provided.
Some participants highlighted systemic discrimination in aged care facilities through
poor cultural practices, such as inflexibility regarding meals. There was an acknowledgement
of the complexity of practice in this area when it was pointed out that
although the current wave of older people needing care are mainly of European
origin, the next wave will be mainly of Asian origin. There was an acknowledgement
that there needs to be flexibility in the system to permit adaptation to different
cultural backgrounds with regard to care and services.
Symposium participants also highlighted other issues associated with aged care
facilities and retirement villages, including the design and arrangement of space,
culturally appropriate staff and management, and financial difficulties in accessing
residential care. The latter is particularly important for those from CALD backgrounds,
who may not have the level of home ownership as currently experienced by
the older Australian-born population. Despite these financial disadvantages,
participants at the symposium suggested that public housing does not prioritise
those from diverse backgrounds and that there may be a level of housing stress, and
even hidden homelessness, among this population group.
Although social support from family and community is critical in determining
outcomes in later life, it is important to dispel the myth that older people from CALD
backgrounds necessarily live with family (CARM, 2003; Moriarty & Butt, 2004).
Levels of family and social support may depend on a range of factors, including the
length of time in Australia and family relationships. Family involvement in decision
making may be appropriate, as noted by some participants at the symposium who
suggested that, in some contexts, family or community gatekeepers may help or
hinder care or placement decisions. Recent migrants may be more dependent on their
immediate family for their social needs but, according to Thomas (2003), family
members may be too busy establishing themselves in a new country and society to assist newcomers. As noted by community leaders during phase 2 of the study, more
established communities are more capable of looking after themselves, but smaller
communities or more recent arrivals may find it much more difficult.
For growing numbers of those from CALD backgrounds, appropriate communitybased
services are very important. One perennial problem noted at the symposium
and related to access to community services is that of transport, particularly for those
in rural and remote areas with little or no public transport systems. As a result, older
people from CALD backgrounds may be vulnerable to social isolation.
Social Isolation
Social isolation among older people has been identified as a key social problem,
particularly because it has a negative effect on their general health and psychosocial
wellbeing, leading to reduced quality of life (Bajekal, Blane, Grewal, Karlsen, &
Nazroo, 2004). Reviews of the literature have identified older people from CALD
backgrounds as one of the most vulnerable at-risk groups (Cattan, White, Bond, &
Learmouth, 2005; Findlay, 2003; Warburton & Liu, 2007). Although factors affecting
loneliness and social isolation are broadly the same for all, it is the ways in which
these factors play out that reveal ethnic differences. Thus, in particular, notions of
dependence and support are determined culturally, and income level, an important
issue relating to social isolation, is strongly related to migration and employment
history (Moriarty & Butt, 2004; Thomas, 2007). Furthermore, Rowland (2007)
estimated that one-third of the total older CALD population was at risk of social
isolation, particularly if they were recent arrivals to Australia and spoke little or no
English.
Participants in the present study (phases 2 and 3) also suggested that older people
from CALD backgrounds are at risk of social isolation. Their rationale echoed the
literature because they suggested that isolation can result from migration processes,
lack of appropriate systems in place, deteriorating personal relationships as a result of
migration stress, lack of information, and problems accessing services.
Although it may be a myth that older people from CALD backgrounds necessarily
have the support of large extended families, it is also perhaps a common perception
that ethnic communities are close knit (Multicultural Mental Health Australia, 2004).
The changing demographic profile of ethnic communities can impact on their
capacity to provide close links and networks, and service providers and others need to
be constantly alert to changing patterns and service gaps. Hence, as participants in
the present study (phases 2 and 3) noted, new, very vulnerable, small communities,
such as from Iraq, Ethiopia, or Sudan, are emerging that are at high risk of social
isolation. In contrast, other groups are diminishing in size as a result of little or no
follow-on migration. Service providers from regional areas noted that small ethnic
communities in rural and remote areas are particularly at risk. Further, a Brisbane
report suggested that social intolerance or racism can result in ghetto-type ethnic
communities, thus leading to reluctance on the part of the migrant communities to integrate into mainstream society and increasing the degree of social isolation
(Queensland Department of Communities, 2007).
Ways to Respond to These Challenges
The changing and complex pattern of migration to Australia that has resulted in
migrants coming from different cultures and language groups clearly creates a range
of challenges for those working in this field of practice. Issues highlighted above
include those associated with accessing services across Australia, particularly for
people living outside major regional centres, as well as gaining information about
services and ensuring that the services that are available are culturally appropriate.
These challenges become particularly acute in relation to access to aged care in terms
of finding suitable housing options, residential care, or community support services.
Finally, older people from CALD backgrounds have been deemed particularly at risk
of social isolation, thus making them vulnerable to poor social and health outcomes.
Using the findings from both the literature review and the participatory phases of
the present study, we now explore potential responses to these challenges. In
particular, the following five practice responses are discussed: recognising the
diversity within different cultural groups; using strength approaches; developing
cultural competencies; cultivating tolerance and antidiscrimination; and providing
information and improved communication.
Recognising the Diversity Within
The changing demographic profile of those from CALD backgrounds provides
complex challenges for those working in this field of practice. Participants in the
present study highlighted the need to avoid generalisations about the CALD
community and to ensure that diversity within cultures is acknowledged. Although
this is the case, they also acknowledged the urgent need for more global, broadranging
research to highlight both common experiences and areas of difference
within this population. Certainly, participants noted that older people from CALD
backgrounds experienced a double jeopardy as a result of being both older and from a
diverse background. However, as noted above, other potential areas of disadvantage
were identified, including financial or spatial disadvantage (Smith & Gerstorf, 2006).
Generally, these findings contribute to the complexity and interrelationship of factors
that need to be considered when designing policy or practice in this area, and suggest
important research is needed to identify and scope the interrelationship of these
challenges.
Although services need to recognise the diversity within the ageing population and
form appropriate responses, there is also a need to recognise that, for many people as
they age, culture can provide a foundation for positive ageing. A key theme that
emerged from the symposium was an acknowledgment of ‘‘the comfort of culture’’ in
later life, recognising that many older migrants find comfort in a familiar cultural context and within their language group. As noted, some people revert to their first
language as they age and may prefer to be with those who come from a similar
cultural background. Thus, although there are challenges, it needs to be recognised
that culture can be a source of strength for many people as they age.
Building on Existing Strengths
At the micro level of practice, social work and human services practitioners need to
adapt their ways of working to be more culturally sensitive. At this practice level,
social work has a long tradition of adopting a strengths approach to assessment. By
adopting strengths-based assessment techniques combined with culturally competent
questioning, social work and human services practitioners are able to form a deeper
understanding of the lives of older CALD clients (McAuliffe, Grothaus, Pare, &
Wininger, 2008). In assessing the needs of CALD clients, Quinn (2003) argued the
importance of taking time to build rapport, to learn about cultural meanings, to
explore the role of spirituality, and to take the approach of observer/inquirer.
Maidment (2009) found that for older clients and their caregivers, personal qualities
of social workers (acceptance of difference, tolerance, patience, honesty, compassion,
and attentive listening) were very important to successful practice.
It also needs to be recognised that there are many networks, groups, and
individuals who provide extensive support within their own communities. Indeed,
the strength of community was acknowledged by participants in the present study
(phases 2 and 3), with many highlighting ways in which it could be nurtured.
Certainly community leadership, advocacy, and mentoring are an integral part of
community cohesion and development. Community leaders can act as gateways to
access local communities. Community leadership skills can be developed, with a
number of organisations, such as the Queensland Volunteer Resource Centre and
Multicultural Development Association (MDA), providing culturally appropriate
courses in Queensland. However, although it is vital to have community leaders, it
was also acknowledged that such individuals should not be relied upon solely.
Participants noted a need for the increased involvement of older people from
CALD backgrounds, their families, and communities in the design and development
of appropriate services. Volunteers can provide an important resource for CALD
communities. Hence, although some participants noted that not all cultural groups
may be comfortable with services delivered by volunteers, others highlighted some
support and advocacy roles that volunteers within these communities can play. For
example, participants suggested the development and support of local ‘‘community
ambassadors’’ as a link between CALD communities and services.
Further, a number of organisations have been formed to support volunteering
within CALD communities. One example of an innovative program, funded as a
demonstration model in the Cross-Government Project to Reduce Social Isolation for
Older People, has been the Culturally Appropriate Volunteer Service (CAVS) Project
(Cominos, 2003, 2006). This project was led by the MDA and aimed to support agencies (both CALD and mainstream) to develop and expand culturally appropriate
volunteer services, as well as to recruit and skill volunteers to support older, socially
isolated people from CALD backgrounds.
Finally, it needs to be noted that not all older people require care or services, and
many of these older individuals provide support within and across their own
communities. A large qualitative study of the community involvement of a diverse
group of older people highlighted the important role played by those from CALD
backgrounds in maintaining and promoting their culture, as well as providing social
support to the young (Warburton & McLaughlin, 2007).
Developing Cultural Competencies
Key informer participants in the present study identified tension between CALD
services and mainstream services that, some suggested, was the result of the highly
competitive nature of service provision, as also noted in the UK (Bowes, 2006).
Several practitioners highlighted the need to address these issues by increasing the
capacity and responsiveness of all staff. For example, one suggested that the cultural
skills of workers, particularly bicultural and bilingual staff, could help build the
cultural awareness of all staff within an agency. Certainly there was also considerable
support for the notion that strategies need to be developed for more culturally
sensitive and appropriate services by mainstream providers, as well as ethno-specific
services. One particular recommendation from participants in the present study
involved training incentives for migrant mature-aged workers, with one result being a
greater pool of older people from CALD backgrounds who could be employed in the
planning for and provision of services to their communities.
Although social work schools in Australia encourage the recruitment of ethnically
diverse applicants, developing cultural competencies among all social work students
is of critical importance. Quinn (2003) and Dominelli (2002) argued against
approaches that offer toolkits, facts, and frameworks for working with people from
CALD backgrounds. Instead, they call for approaches that create a deeper awareness
and understanding of privilege and oppression at both institutional and personal
levels. Such thinking underpins some of the social work courses on developing
cultural competence documented in the literature. For example, Furlong and Mansel-
Lees (2004) argued against a ‘‘tick box’’ approach, instead encouraging social work
students to critically examine themselves, their culture, and their stereotyping of
others. Furness’ (2005) framework for introducing cultural competence to students
rested on similar principles: facilitation of an awareness and understanding of the
student’s own culture in relation to others, gaining a knowledge of other cultures, and
recognising diversity as normative (Furness 2005). Furness (2005) also discussed the
importance of skills laboratories, encouraging students to practice working with
diverse groups.
Developing and expanding cultural competence skills can help meet the needs of
diverse older populations by enhancing service providers’ ability to work effectively in cross-cultural situations. However, developing true cultural competence can be a
long-term developmental process, as noted by participants in the symposium. In
terms of service delivery, one of the key principles is to appreciate the importance of
culture while avoiding stereotypes, and developing a deep understanding of the
sociopolitical influences that have shaped this particular community, including an
understanding of the various needs, views, and concerns within the community.
Cultivating Tolerance and Antidiscrimination
Participants at the symposium highlighted the need to first address the basic
problems of tolerance, discrimination, and acceptance before any specific responses
could be made to these issues. It was agreed that racial discrimination is a very serious
problem and, although there may be little documented evidence that it is occurring,
participants suggested that we cannot start from the premise that it does not exist or
that everyone is treated equally. There was an acknowledgement that further research
is needed into this area, particularly into Australian societal expectations, norms, and
values.
Furthermore, a common theme that pervaded the participatory elements of this
project (phases 2 and 3) referred to the critical importance of enhancing crosscultural
understandings between the communities from diverse CALD backgrounds
and the mainstream. How can such tolerance and appreciation of culture be
promoted? Clearly this is a community-wide issue, where a response can commence
at school and university. Suggestions included promoting the teaching of diverse
languages in schools, encouraging the expression of students’ culture of origin, and
integration of ageing and CALD streams into tertiary courses rather than as electives.
As with Opper’s (2007) contention, there was an acceptance that a tolerance of
difference or respect needs to be actively taught.
Providing Information and Improving Communication
One of the key challenges linked to ageing well in Australia and internationally relates
to the effective provision of, and access to, information about local services (World
Health Organization, 2007). This issue is particularly important for those for whom
English is not their first language, who may not be able to either access or understand
information provided in standard formats. Both findings from the literature and
from participants in the present study identified ethnic radio, community organisations,
and word of mouth as the most effective ways of communicating with older
people from CALD backgrounds, although some suggested that provision of
information in different languages and different formats is important. A wide range
of presentation formats was recommended, in particular using pictures rather than
simply text to assist those with poor linguistic skills. However, it is important to
retain a balance between ensuring broad dissemination of information and information overload, which, it was acknowledged, may be quite daunting for those
with poor language skills.
Appropriate and adequate communication is highlighted as a key challenge,
particularly between community members and service providers; however, participants
in the present study suggested that, despite this, it is critical that effective lines
of communication are developed. When designing policies or services, there is a need
to hear all voices, including those from diverse backgrounds and the socially isolated.
The importance of understanding how to reach those from CALD communities is
also recognised in the literature. Thus, for example, Milat, Carroll, and Taylor (2005)
provided an overview of effective marketing strategies in relation to health promotion
messages, such as anti-smoking messages. Within the present study, different models
and approaches were suggested to ensure broader communication, including the use
of community leaders, translation services, and bicultural workers. However, there
was some agreement that it is important to look at what works and is successful and
to adapt these models. For example, the Queensland Princess Alexandra Hospital’s
interpreter service model could be considered in catchment areas where there are
significant numbers of people from a particular CALD group. There is also a need for
further research to examine national and international best practice models of care
and services, as well as more comprehensive and rigorous evaluations (Milat et al.,
2005; Rao et al., 2006).
As noted by symposium participants, there is a need to broaden the availability of
English language facilities for people from CALD backgrounds to help them gain the
dual benefits associated with a knowledge of both languages. Some interesting
volunteer models exist that support the learning of English, and there is potential in
this field. Further, other participants highlighted the need for the increased learning
of languages for those undertaking health services and related courses.
New ways to maintain effective communication between older people, their family
members, and health and aged care personnel are also urgently required. As noted by
participants in the present study, care needs to be taken when considering who should
be involved when decisions need to be made, such as in relation to entry into aged
care. Community leaders can offer guidance to service providers in this area.
Working in Partnership
One of the key themes to emerge from the participants during both phases of this
project was the need to work together to find solutions to the challenges posed by the
increasing number of older people from CALD backgrounds. Participants across
topic areas at the symposium recommended the need to foster partnerships and
relationships to deliver better and more appropriate services, as well as to improve
outcomes for clients. Thus, for example, day respite centres can assist to link clients
with each other, as well as with other support services. Furthermore, organisations
and services should expand their pooling of resources, knowledge, and activities to
ensure broader access to the finite resources available.
Partnerships are needed with community leaders and others who can assist in
gaining access to and legitimacy within a particular community. Community
members are critical members of any potential partnership and, as noted earlier, it
is important for policy makers and service providers to understand the experiences of
all those affected by decisions. It is recognised that it is not always easy for
disadvantaged groups to partner in any endeavours, and issues of power and
inequality must be addressed during the process (Bolda, Saucier, Maddox, Wetle, &
Isaacs Lowe, 2006).
In terms of partnership models, a few innovative, best practice models of care were
identified during the course of the project, including a new cross-government
partnership model to address social isolation in Queensland (Queensland Department
of Communities, 2007). An exploration of the literature in the social isolation
field highlighted other innovative partnerships directed at older people from a CALD
background, including the Multilingual Senior Surfers Pilot Project run by the Office
of Senior Victorians in partnership with the State Library of Victoria in 2005 (for a
summary, see Warburton & Lui, 2007). Although the aim of that project was to
provide Internet training and awareness-raising opportunities for older Victorians
from CALD backgrounds, it was also an innovative project in terms of providing
Internet training for those for whom English was not their first language and building
social bonds among participants (Denison, 2006).
Conclusion
The present paper set out to explore issues facing practitioners and policy makers
working with older people from CALD backgrounds (RQ1) and to pose some
solutions to responding to the challenges workers face (RQ2). A significant number
of key intersecting issues were raised around the adequacy of service provision,
models of aged care, and responding to the increasing social isolation of older CALD
people. Suggestions for responding to such challenges centred on five areas of
response, namely recognising diversity within older CALD groups, using strengthsbased
approaches, developing the cultural competencies of practitioners, cultivating
tolerance and antidiscrimination, and providing access to and information about
service delivery.
Importantly, the present paper highlights the complexity and challenges of
practising in the field of cultural diversity and ageing. It also proposes some
responses and innovative practices that are beginning to address these issues. First,
and perhaps foremost, the present paper highlights the urgent need for a more
rigorous and comprehensive research agenda to support practice initiatives in this
field. Innovative practice does exist in this field, although there is an identified lack of
good evaluations, with much of the work reported in the grey literature and hence
hard to access (Rao et al., 2006). A new body of evidence is required that explores,
highlights, and analyses existing and proposed practice models so that some of the
broader learnings can be developed and applied across other contexts.
Second, the strength of culture, or what we term ‘‘the comfort of culture’’, needs to
be recognised in practice contexts. Each community offers different strengths;
however, working from a strengths perspective by drawing on the benefits of culture
and community can help practitioners working in this area. Community leaders and
service providers able to span cultures can potentially make an enormous
contribution to community health and wellbeing, with new ways of working being
developed that are starting to address these practice challenges.
Finally, the advantages of working in partnership are even more critical in this area
of practice. Networking, drawing on existing knowledge, and sharing resources are
clearly needed when funding is restricted, and are even more important as new waves
and groups of migrants emerge. Issues associated with ageing and cultural diversity
are complex; however, by working across and within communities, ageing well can
become a reality for a growing segment of the Australian older population.
Acknowledgements
The authors would like to thank Dr Sue Hodgkin, School of Social Work and Social
Policy, La Trobe University (Albury-Wodonga) for her input into the final version of
this paper.
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