Abstract
How do groups reckon with differences in members’ identities and beliefs? A tension exists between groups, whose identities are singular and stably positioned, and their members, whose identities are intertwined and constituted in interaction. Existing work shows how this tension is addressed through downplaying difference, but we know less about how differences are played up in group life. Drawing on two years of ethnographic fieldwork and 56 interviews with a racially and politically diverse religious group, I examine how members play up identities and beliefs that are not shared by all and how comembers respond. This analysis reveals two pathways that playing up difference takes: an engagement pathway and an avoidance pathway. The engagement pathway depends on the activation of shared structural, relational, and epistemic foundations. I conclude with a broader consideration of how playing up difference relates to the pursuit of plurality and wholeness in contemporary organizations and communities.
Advocating the mere tolerance of difference between women is the grossest reformism. It is a total denial of the creative function of difference in our lives. Difference must be not merely tolerated, but seen as a fund of necessary polarities between which our creativity can spark like a dialectic. Only then does the necessity for interdependency become unthreatening.
In The Intersection of Social Circles, Simmel ([1908] 2009) outlines one of the central challenges of modernity: We belong not to one circle but many; every person exists within a web of group affiliations. These webs have implications for individuals, whose identities become more constricted as they locate themselves in the narrow space at the intersection of their circles. But they also have implications for groups. Existing work addresses the ways groups manage and downplay differences among members (Douds 2021). But central questions remain unanswered: When do groups reckon with difference? How do members bring identities and beliefs to the fore that are not shared with others? How does difference get played up in group life?
Goffman (1961:8–9) defines groups as “a type of social organization where the key elements are individuals who perceive the organization as a distinct collective unit, perceive themselves as members who belong, and have some sense of hostility toward outgroups.” Groups cultivate we-ness through what is shared (Brubaker and Cooper 2000; Polletta and Jasper 2001; Vaisey 2007). Thus, in any group, some identities are primary (those that are shared and unifying), and others are secondary (those that are present through members’ intersecting circles but diverse rather than unifying).
This dynamic creates a fundamental tension between groups and their members. Individuals’ identities are not primary and secondary: They are unified, dynamic, gradational, and constituted in and through interactions (Monk 2022; Stryker and Burke 2000). A delicate balance must be struck. If groups ignore or stifle “secondary” identities, they risk becoming homogeneous, coercive, and brittle (Zablocki 1971). On the other hand, by elevating secondary identities to a position of primacy, groups may fracture, alienate members who do not share the correct web of affiliations, or lose their unifying force (Kanter 1968; Vaisey 2007). Modern groups face organizational and cultural pressures to celebrate diversity (Berrey 2015). But such celebrations have their limits: Secondary identities must not threaten the group’s primary identity or the (peaceful) interaction order. Problems arise when identities that are positioned as secondary in group life are central in members’ lives, in particular situations, or inseparable from what the group elevates as a primary identity. Layered onto these dynamics is the reality that categorical differences are rarely neutral. Differences in gender, race, socioeconomic status, religion, and sexuality, among others, intersect in ways that fundamentally shape the challenges, opportunities, and inequalities that people face (Crenshaw 2017; Tavory and Fine 2020). 1
The goal of this article is to theorize when and how groups reckon with (rather than ignore, stifle, or merely tolerate) difference. I conceptualize playing up difference as the act of putting forth personal identities or beliefs that are not shared by all members in the interactions that constitute group life. I aim to shed light on when playing up difference happens, how it unfolds, and the conditions that enable engagement with the axes of differences put forth.
Empirically, I draw on two years of fieldwork and 56 interviews with the members and leaders of “Christian Fellowship,” an evangelical Christian community at a private, secular university. Christian Fellowship is a strong setting to examine playing up difference because the group has a clear primary identity (Christian faith), but it is also a racially, socioeconomically, and politically diverse group. 2 I trace how demographic and ideological differences were navigated before, during, and after a key instance of environmental rupture: national racial reckoning in the wake of George Floyd’s murder in 2020.
Ruptures reveal social fault lines (Wagner-Pacifici 2010). By revealing fault lines, ruptures can summon identities and beliefs that might otherwise remain hidden or nonfocal (Tavory 2016). Environmental ruptures (events that occur outside the boundaries of a group) can therefore serve as crucial impetus for playing up difference. I offer two overarching response trajectories that playing up difference can take: an engagement pathway (where the axes of difference are reckoned with) and an avoidance pathway (where the axes of difference are not reckoned with). I find that moving toward the engagement pathway is linked to members’ activation of three kinds of group-level foundations: structural foundations (interactional forums where playing up difference can happen), relational foundations (strong ties between group members), and epistemic foundations (a base of shared premises and rituals on which differences can be grappled with).
By theorizing the process of playing up difference, I aim to deepen our understanding of how identities and beliefs are interactionally navigated in groups (Braunstein, Fulton, and Wood 2014; Fine 2009; Lichterman and Eliasoph 2014). Downplaying difference and playing up likeness are effective strategies in settled times (Swidler 1986), yet situations arise that lead members to play up difference and disrupt peaceful interaction orders (Tavory and Fine 2020). My analysis reveals when and how this happens. Given that marginalized identities and beliefs are more likely to be downplayed, my findings also shed light on identity-laden power dynamics and how these dynamics can be challenged (Barrett Cox 2021). I conclude by considering how the concept of playing up difference may enable us to trace the pursuit of plurality and wholeness in group life (Allen 2004; Thévenot 2014).
Toward a Theory of Playing Up Difference
People live at the intersection of many social circles (Simmel [1908] 2009). Belonging to multiple groups allows people to exercise greater choice in who and what they are bound to (Giddens 1991). On the other hand, the groups to which a person belongs form a system of coordinates such that “each additional one defines the individual more exactly and unambiguously” (Simmel [1908] 2009:372). People become more free and more constrained:
Conflicts of an inner and outer nature arise through a multiplicity of social affiliations. . . . The more varied group interests meet and press for settlement together inside us, the more definitely does the “I” become conscious of its unity. (Simmel [1908] 2009:373)
The unity people experience across their groups poses a challenge for participation in any one group. Brubaker and Cooper (2000) argue that groupness emerges from three factors: categorical commonality, relational connectedness, and a feeling of belonging together (see also Polletta 2020). The most foundational of the three is categorical commonality, which may take the form of a perceived “fundamental sameness” (e.g., a shared religious affiliation, ethnic identity, class position), or the active construction of “collective self-understanding” (Brubaker and Cooper 2000:7; Polletta and Jasper 2001).
This brings us to a notoriously difficult concept: identity. At the group level, I use the term “primary identity” to encompass a group’s base(s) of categorical commonality. Groups need primary identities to foster cohesion, commonality, and collective mobilization (Beltrán 2010). At the same time, even the smallest group has a plurality of nonshared, secondary identities among its members, given that each member carries their own web of affiliations into group life.
At the individual level, my focus is on membership categories, which are the social groups people identify with and belong to. 3 As Fourcade (2016) notes, categories hold societies together and play an important role in sustaining and anchoring self-understanding. But while social categories are relatively stable, they are neither static nor rigid. As Monk (2022:5) contends, the process of social categorization (both of oneself and others) is “continuous, gradational, and subcategorical” because categories themselves are fuzzy rather than crisp. One implication of this fuzziness is that categories are summoned and negotiated in and through interactions (Tavory 2016).
The dynamic, intersectional nature of membership categories can create tensions in group life. Groups may push members to prioritize what they view as primary identities over other identities to foster unity (Kanter 1968; Zablocki 1971). But as groups strive to engender commitment, retain members, and cultivate creativity, they ignore secondary identities at their own risk (Coser 1967). These tensions are particularly pronounced in current times, when diversity has become a shared ideology with moral imperatives (Mayorga-Gallo 2019) and a symbolic discourse (Berrey 2015). Firms, schools, civic associations, and even some neighborhoods strive to celebrate diversity in terms of ethnicity, religion, sexuality, and other axes of difference (Braunstein et al. 2014; Douds 2021). But even when groups do engage in celebrations of difference, the categories that bind the group together take precedence over axes of difference. As such, both sanctioning and celebrating diversity can be discordant for members. People may view some of their membership categories as more central to their self-understanding than others, but individuals’ identities are fundamentally dynamic, intertwined, and constituted in interactions (Stryker and Burke 2000).
The question, then, is this: How do people play nonshared identities and beliefs in group life? Goffman (1961:33) defines interactions as “the process of move-taking through which a given play is initiated and eventually completed.” A play is an interactional move made in context—the context of both the encounter and the broader group the encounter is nested in. 4 “Play” often connotes agency or intentionality, but plays can be intentional, unintentional, or both. In addition, although plays are often playful, they can also be serious and conflictual. Because plays are embedded in group life, they are shaped by group contexts but also have the potential to change these contexts (Giddens 1984).
Existing work offers insights on the strategies and practices that groups use to navigate internal differences, but it generally focuses on how shared identities are played up and how diverse identities are played down. On playing up shared identities and beliefs, Braunstein et al. (2014:708) find that groups develop bridging cultural practices, such as defining a category that all members can position themselves in relation to, highlighting characteristics that members share, and enacting rituals that are familiar to all members (or can be learned together) and thus can be meaningful to all. Likewise, Ghaziani and Baldassarri (2011) find that cultural anchors organize difference among activists by providing a conceptual handle to connect ideas, respond to external circumstances, and promote stability among flux. Cultural anchors promote thin or limited coherence (DiMaggio 1997; Sewell 1999), a kind of coherence that allows for difference and dissent while still linking members to each other.
Other work focuses on how groups engage in boundary marking and symbolic discourse to play up likeness and downplay difference. Lichterman (2008) demonstrates how religious groups use religion to define collective identities and map their place in the civic arena, thus clarifying who to include and exclude in civic relationships. Douds (2021) finds that a commitment to celebrating diversity in racially diverse, socioeconomically homogeneous suburbs leads community members to sanction discussions of racial injustice or inequality. Berrey (2015) and Warikoo (2016) highlight how diversity discourse is symbolically invoked in ways that challenge the pursuit of racial justice and commodify racial diversity in institutions like higher education.
These studies highlight organizational and cultural strategies for playing up likeness and playing down difference. Interactionist theorizing likewise reveals micro-level tendencies to avoid the rub of difference in everyday interactions. In any encounter, whether a game of checkers or a cocktail party, participants agree to rules that guide what is attended and disattended (Goffman 1961). Simmel (1950:6) describes the art of sociability as the game where “one does as if all were equal.” People synchronize around shared identities and downplay diverse identities to achieve alignment (Tavory and Fine 2020). Goffman (1961:22) elaborates on this dynamic:
Just as we find that certain social attributes are excluded from significance in wide ranges of encounters, so also, we find that participants will hold in check certain psychological states and attitudes, for, after all, the very general rule that one enter into the prevailing mood in the encounter carries the understanding that contradictory feelings will be held in abeyance.
The interactional work of “holding in check” applies generally to how people present their identities across the groups they belong to. Informal norms of identity presentation enable synchronization, which strengthens relational bonds and social order (Garfinkel, Rawls, and Lemert 2006). But such norms often demand more of some group members than others. For example, Ince (2022) reveals how racial minorities are expected to display a “diversity demeanor” in interracial spaces, engaging in rituals that smooth out racialized and potentially negative interactions for the benefit of White members. 5
In short, downplaying difference and playing up likeness may be effective strategies for navigating difference in settled times (Swidler 1986). But what about when ruptures happen? Events inevitably begin with rupture, that is, a break or a breach that creates a sense the ground has shifted (Tavory and Wagner-Pacifici 2022; Wagner-Pacific 2010). Ruptures have the potential to reveal social fault lines within groups (Lau and Murnighan 1998). By revealing fault lines, ruptures can summon nonshared or nonfocal identities and beliefs, leading members to become dissatisfied with downplaying difference, playing up likeness, and holding in check. In such circumstances, group members may play up difference instead.
I define playing up difference as the act of putting forth identities or beliefs that are not shared by all members. 6 Putting forth can entail highlighting, addressing, calling attention to, or foregrounding an axis of difference (i.e., a nonshared identity or belief) within an interactional context that is collectively understood as part of group life. My focus here is on the meso level: the tiny publics that emerge through organizations, neighborhoods, associations, and informal groups and collectively constitute social and institutional life (Fine 2009, 2021).
How does playing up difference happen? As with any interaction, there are two key stages: initiation and response. A wide range of responses are possible: Comembers might ignore the play or try to shift attention away from the axis of difference put forth. They may support the play or challenge it directly. Furthermore, one member playing up difference may create a domino effect where other members play up other differences (potentially to support or challenge the initial play).
I suggest that two general interactional pathways unfold when a member plays up difference: an engagement pathway (where comembers respond to and reckon with the difference put forth) and an avoidance pathway (where comembers steer clear of and do not reckon with the difference put forth). The avoidance pathway leads to difference being downplayed, whereas the engagement pathway extends the playing-up-difference encounter. I use engagement and avoidance as an overarching heuristic for how playing-up-difference interactions unfold at the group level, but within each pathway, a plurality of responses may occur (some members engage while others ignore or attempt to redirect the interaction). Both pathways can create conflict, albeit in different ways, as I discuss in the following. The goal of my empirical analysis is to shed light on the general conditions that lead to engagement given that much of the existing work examines avoidance.
A theory of playing up difference must take into account the fact that categorical differences are rarely neutral and the fact that some categories are more embodied and therefore more visible than others. As Monk (2022) notes, we need to be attentive to “cues” of categories and center embodiment in our study of how differences are navigated in social life. When it comes to playing up difference, embodiment is important because some categories have the privilege of hiddenness, which gives people more agency in deciding whether and how they want to play them in a given interaction. Playing up difference can be risky—comembers or leaders may view these moves as a threat to group unity or fear that the nonshared identity will “flood” the primary identity (Goffman 1986). The risks are greater when members are not in positions of power and when the identities or beliefs being played up are marginalized (Tavory and Fine 2020). A fundamental question, which I return to in the discussion, is how groups develop their capacity to hold difference (and the disruptiveness that accompanies it) rather than seeking to minimize or resolve difference.
Case and Method
This analysis stems from a comparative ethnographic study examining the microfoundations of inclusion in modern universities. I focus here on one of the groups I studied for this broader project: “Christian Fellowship” (CF), a community of deeply religious students following Jesus together while attending an elite, private, secular university. This is a strong case to study playing up difference because CF had a clear primary identity and significant internal diversity that created many potential fault lines. The primary identity was shared Christian faith (although members came from a wide range of denominational backgrounds, including Evangelical Protestant, Mainline Protestant, and Pentecostal traditions). During the time of my study, CF was racially, 7 socioeconomically, 8 and politically 9 diverse. A fundamental challenge that arose in CF was how to navigate ever-present differences among members, especially in 2020, a time of ideological polarization and racial reckoning in the United States more broadly.
Data Collection and Analysis
I conducted fieldwork with CF from September 2019 to October 2021. During this time, I immersed myself in the day-to-day life of the group through weekly participation in their worship services, small-group bible studies, and other events (e.g., prayer nights, outreach events, retreats, leadership meetings, and informal hangouts). When CF shifted their meetings to Zoom during the pandemic, I continued fieldwork virtually. I also regularly observed CF’s digitally mediated communication platforms (GroupMe and Slack) throughout the ethnographic study and after I concluded weekly fieldwork observations. Finally, I conducted 56 interviews with 41 CF members over four years (2019–2023). 10 The interviews gave me the opportunity to trace individual students’ journeys and their perspectives on how CF evolved over time. Throughout the study, I acted as a participant observer and was seen as a member of the CF community, although members were aware I was studying the group as part of my dissertation research. 11
My analytic approach is rooted in Tavory and Timmerman’s (2013:683) pragmatist process of abductive analysis (see also Tavory and Timmermans 2014). As I discuss in-depth in the following, CF’s initial approach to navigating difference was to downplay difference, but the group underwent a significant shift in how they navigated racial and ideological differences in 2020. Through observing this process, I became attuned to playing up difference as an important, undertheorized way that identity and belief differences are navigated in group life. I then analyzed playing-up-difference encounters within the context of broader group dynamics to understand when and how playing up difference unfolds. I drew on interview data to understand members’ interpretations of playing-up-difference encounters and to keep track of how the group culture evolved for two years after I concluded in-depth fieldwork.
My findings trace the interactions that unfolded amid a key moment of environmental rupture—the murder of George Floyd in May 2020—and show how this event sparked playing-up-difference encounters related to racial justice and inequality. By examining how these interactions unfolded and the interpretive struggles that ensued over “acceptable” styles and forms of playing up difference, I demonstrate the two pathways that playing up difference can take and the potential effects it can have on group culture. I provide background information for each of the individuals highlighted in the text in Table 1.
Demographic and Belief Categories for Participants Highlighted in Findings (Obtained through Self-Report in Interviews and Fieldwork).
Findings
The Group Culture of CF: Deep Diversity and Downplaying Difference
The first time I visited CF’s weekly worship service, held in an old lecture hall on a cool, September evening, I was struck by two traits that I soon learned defined the group: a strong sense of community and multifaceted diversity. On that first night, I met a trio of friends: Diego, 12 a first-generation college student whose parents immigrated from Columbia to Southern California in search of better opportunities, was studying business. Foundin, a blonde-haired man with a gentle smile who grew up in a small working-class town in Minnesota, was studying psychology to make sense of the mental health and addiction crises that shaped his community. And Steven, an Asian American man double majoring in computer science and international relations, grew up in Silicon Valley where both his parents worked in high tech. These three students were quite different from each other, but they were also best friends. During the first six months of fieldwork, I learned that CF was marked by a surprising number of cross-cultural, cross-class, and cross-political ties. Amid these differences, members lived together, helped each other with homework assignments, knew one another’s families, and occasionally fought over shared romantic interests. In my interviews, almost every member cited “diversity” and “community” as CF’s two greatest strengths.
This raised a fundamental question: How did CF maintain robust diversity alongside deep community?
13
I learned their strategy was to downplay difference and play up likeness. Greg, CF’s campus minister, explained to me, “I think the way we approach diversity promotes more diversity in part because we don’t talk about it. If we talked about it more, we may alienate some students who feel over talked to about diversity on campus.” Students agreed with this characterization, although their evaluations of this approach varied. Corina, who joined the group her senior year, reflected:
If I started a conversation about race in Hope [another religious group she previously was a member of], people would be quick to develop it. But if I start a conversation about race after CF’s large group, people would be quicker to change the conversation. . . . There’s such an emphasis in CF on things like, “our identity is in Christ,” and that’s true, 100 percent. But I think that comes at the expense of recognizing the existence of our other identities.
This downplaying difference approach came into question in 2020 as the group navigated a time of growing political polarization and racial reckoning.
Playing up Difference amid Environmental Rupture
In May 2020, in an event that served as a rupture for countless organizations across the United States, George Floyd was murdered at the hands of a White police officer. Greg, CF’s pastor, acknowledged this event in CF’s weekly worship service, and attendees spent time praying for the families and communities experiencing loss. 14 Although some appreciated this approach, others believed that a greater reckoning with racial injustices in CF was necessary.
Initiation
During this time, the group was geographically distributed due to the pandemic, so GroupMe operated as the key site for community-wide dialogue. For a few days after the murder, the main GroupMe channel was unusually quiet. Then, Ariyo, a Black international student and core member of CF, posted the following:
After deliberately staying away from the news for the whole week, because I did not want to feel any of the negative emotions or insecurity because of my skin color, I finally decided to watch the videos of George and Ahmaud’s murders yesterday. They were both heartbreaking and horrifying; I wanted to cry but still can’t find the tears. Just a terrible knot-like feeling in my chest and stomach. So, why am I sharing this? I’m sharing because I feel strongly that silence is a luxury that we all cannot afford. It would be a sin for us, especially those of us not affected, to sit quietly and simply watch such tragic injustices without any action. As believers, we should be at the forefront of seeking justice and defending those that are oppressed. Justice is not only a liberal cause or a Black cause, it is a cause for the church of God!
He went on to share a link to one of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s speeches and said:
I encourage each of you to watch the speech which MLK titled “The other America.” It clearly articulates the current situation; a sad thing given that this is 53 years since it was delivered. It will also give you a clear perspective on the plight of Black people and help you understand the anger and even bitterness that some of them harbor. While it’s evident that as a country, the US has made much progress in racial equality and social justice, there is still much ground ahead. Further progress will not automatically happen with time, it will happen because we actively do something about it; prayers alone will NOT do it! Quoting MLK again, “It may be that we will have to repent in this generation not merely for the vitriolic words of the bad people and the violent actions of the bad people, but for the appalling silence and indifference of the good people who sit around and say wait on time.”
This is a striking post. Ariyo eloquently plays up difference, calling attention to a core axis of difference within the group: where CF members stand with regard to the pursuit of racial justice. Ariyo foregrounds the environmental rupture as a crucial impetus for initiation. Playing up difference has become urgent in the face of specific, immoral acts: the deaths of two innocent Black men at the hands of White police officers and civilians. These events had a summoning effect on Ariyo, as a Black man and, perhaps particularly, as an international student who did not grow up in the racialized context of the United States. Ariyo foregrounds these moments of rupture, bringing the events into the group by talking about them in one of CF’s main dialogue spaces.
What kind of difference is being played up? Ariyo, ultimately, is putting forth a belief difference: He believes racial justice is central to Christian faith and that failing to engage in racial justice would be a sin. Ariyo is concerned that his comembers may “sit quietly and watch tragic injustices without action.” He knows some comembers do not see the fight for racial justice in America as a fight they are called to participate in (or may not even believe racial injustice is a problem in U.S. society).
The pursuit of racial justice has been a moral fault line in American Christian churches for decades, centuries even (King 1967). In many congregations, this fault line is not activated because the community is united in viewing racial justice as inherent to Christian faith or united in indifference or colorblindness. But in CF, members fell on different sides of this fault line. Ariyo, Corina, and others saw the pursuit of racial justice as central to Christian faith, but others saw it as unimportant or unnecessary. Ariyo’s commitment to racial justice was present before the murder of George Floyd, but the rupture was a crucial impetus to initiate a groupwide conversation about racial inequality (the very kind of conversation that is sanctioned in groups that abide by diversity contracts and downplay difference; Douds 2021).
To lob this contention, Ariyo foregrounded his own social categories, which shaped his embodied experiences related to these events. He did so knowing that some of his comembers would not “see” or experience these events the way he did (Du Bois 1897). He lifted the veil in order to challenge his comembers. Ariyo also drew on shared epistemic foundations. He referenced Martin Luther King, Jr., a Christian civil rights leader. He argued that justice is a cause “for the church of God.” He believed CF could reckon with their internal differences because of their shared faith (and must reckon with racial justice because of their shared faith). Finally, it is important to note that Ariyo’s ability to voice these concerns and differences hinged on the active GroupMe channel that served as an open platform for members to exercise voice.
Responses
How did others respond to Ariyo’s invitation to grapple with difference? His post evoked a range of responses, which I suggest is a marker of the engagement pathway. Greg, CF’s pastor, thanked Ariyo for his comments and shared that CF would be bringing a Black preacher to speak at worship service who would be talking about “racism from a gospel perspective.” Kaia, the first student to respond, actively engaged with Ariyo’s initiation. She shared a document of organizations that could use support (e.g., Black Lives Matter [BLM]) and said:
If anyone can donate, we should, because anti-blackness, anti-indigeneity, and anti-racism are interconnected fights, and our freedom is dependent on all of us rising. We cannot have a global community rooted in Christ-like love if we cannot stand for each other. Some of you reached out when my community began once again standing on the frontlines for Maunakea, and that meant a lot for me. I specifically remember how Ella [a CF leader] reached out and asked how I was doing and how she could help when nobody else seemed like they really cared other than to like my post. I would like to also be that kind of friend for our Black family and friends in providing support financially, emotionally, and spiritually, now and later when this is not trending. Anyone willing to match my donations? [She posted a screenshot of a $50 donation she made to an advocacy organization.]
Kaia did not simply “like” Ariyo’s post (a thin form of engagement). Instead, she developed her own extended post, where she played up her identities and experiences and foregrounded her personal convictions about racial justice. She went a step further than Ariyo by pushing for specific actions, such as matching her donation (one student, Alejandro, did).
Following Kaia, others responded similarly, supporting Ariyo’s initiation and providing additional ways to act. During this time, conservative members of CF were largely silent on GroupMe, but in smaller group settings, right-leaning students voiced ambivalence. For example, Samuel reflected in bible study that week:
I think some of you know that I lean to the right mostly. I have never been open with that in college. . . . I liked what Anna [another member of the small group] said about going through an untangling process. I am very sheltered in the sense that I never had to interact with police or police brutality. I’ve seen the Facebook posts, the black square, and have been reading comments about that. But social media is not the most helpful in terms of learning; memes are not the best advice. I have been struggling to . . . form a different perspective. I have friends who say, if you don’t support BLM, we are not friends, or defund the police. But I feel like there is a difference between supporting the initiative versus the outcome. There are places I worked for that have had looting and vandalization. And that has been hard to see. . . . One place that I worked for has a Black CEO, and to see it get vandalized was super hard. But, also, I can’t imagine what Black people are going through right now. (Fieldnotes)
Samuel played up, albeit tentatively, that he is conservative and voiced his uncertainty regarding Black Lives Matter and defunding the police. He did so in the context of his bible study group, which was internally diverse but had developed strong bonds through months of regular meetings. This was the first time I observed Samuel actively grappling with questions of racial justice or sharing his political orientation. Samuel’s engagement underscores the importance of ruptures for voicing identity and belief differences but also the importance of strong relational ties for people to voice uncertainty or dissent.
After a few days of engagement with Ariyo’s initiation on GroupMe, Greg (CF’s pastor) posted an extended message. As part of this message, he said:
Thoughtful and loving people will differ with one another when it comes to prudential judgments. Please have grace towards those who come to different conclusions than you, and if you don’t understand something they say or do (or fail to say or do) reach out to them directly. Don’t allow the brokenness of the world to break our relationships. I bring this up because it’s such a minor difference (which charity are you drawn to support) that it seems like a good time to reiterate the point that the world is confusing, and issues are complex. We’re all just doing the best we can. (Fieldnotes)
This post suggests Greg was concerned that members’ efforts to play up difference would disrupt the relational order of CF. But by suggesting that “what charity you are drawn to support” is a minor difference, members like Kaia might have felt the modes of engagement they viewed as central were devalued. Although Greg aimed to cultivate commonality, his post was read by some as underscoring difference. The belief that “we’re all just doing the best we can” is not one that all members agreed with or saw as appropriate. Reflecting on this months later in an interview, Kaia told me she felt CF leaders during this time “had too strong of a voice.”
Flavia (an openly conservative member of the group) was the first person to reply after Greg posted. She said:
Thanks so much for very wise words on these very contentious and disturbing events. I’d like to add that a lot of people, including potentially members of this ministry, are being threatened physically and economically by the present riots. I think it would be good to be praying for all of them.
By suggesting the group should be concerned about the riots, Flavia played up a broader ideological difference. The fact that Flavia (who was generally outspoken and open about her conservative beliefs) did not share her views until this moment suggests that Greg’s comments created space for playing up ideological difference. His post sought to remind group members of their shared epistemic and relational foundations and the space for political and ideological difference amid religious commonality. This paved the way for Flavia to share her views, but her post was neither engaged nor sanctioned. Instead, Uday posted soon after Flavia to say:
I had the chance to watch a sermon that did a great job describing how we as a community can lament and give space for the members of our community who are hurting. It did a great job of describing some of the systemic privileges that have been given to non-Black people like myself, and how we can try to leverage that during these times to help the members of our community who are hurting.
Uday steered the interaction back toward engagement with Ariyo’s initiation (rather than Flavia’s). Why? It may simply be that Uday believed the group should recenter on racial justice. But it is possible that although Flavia had strong relational ties in CF, her post did not demand a relational response in the way Ariyo’s post did, by indicating personal struggle and emotion-laden experiences. Flavia suggested that members of CF were “potentially” affected, but she did not draw on personal experience. It is also possible that a top-down push for ideological difference amid shared epistemic foundations (by Greg) was less effective than bottom-up efforts by members.
I highlight one final exchange from this dialogue that demonstrates a more direct example of avoidance. After Uday’s post, Kaia shared a link to a document she described as “how to be a better friend and ally as a non-Black folk.” This essay, titled “Why All Cops Are Bastards,” was more strongly aligned with the Black Lives Matter movement than other resources that had been shared. Moreover, it did not have any connection to Christian faith. A few hours after sharing this resource, Kaia posted again:
It is not my place to tell people what to do or what to not do, and it has come to my attention that I shared something that has elements that have very harsh, divisive points that convey a specific narrative. The point of my earlier message was to highlight some potential ways to be a better friend in general. To those I offended, please forgive me, and please send me a dm [direct message] if I can clarify some things. I’m sorry and I love you all.
Kaia received some sort of private sanctioning from a comember or leader who felt the resource she shared was “divisive.” Although intense contention can be a form of engagement, in this case, it led to avoidance: Kaia apologized for her earlier post in a way that downplayed the racial and ideological differences she initially sought to play up. When Kaia issued this apology, Temi commented that the resource Kaia shared was one that she, as a Black woman, had also found helpful to share with non-Black friends, thus supporting Kaia’s original post (and challenging the private contender). This interaction suggests that when playing up difference does not establish shared epistemic foundations, it is more likely to be sanctioned, which may have a silencing effect on the person who experiences sanctioning.
Overall, these interactions show the two pathways that a playing-up-difference encounter can take. An encounter veers toward engagement when members reckon with differences put forth, but engagement can take multiple forms (e.g., support or contention). Avoidance, too, can take multiple forms, from subtle redirection to overt sanctioning. The two pathways are not binary outcomes but, rather, a heuristic for tracing patterns of engagement and the kind of response that initiation or engagement receives in the next iteration of the interaction sequence. 15 Engagement and avoidance often coexist in group life. But at the same time, we can track meaningful shifts in specific interactions and, more broadly, in the life and culture of a group.
Playing up Difference and Potential Changes to Group Culture
What does playing up difference do in a group? Did these interactions change CF in any meaningful way? I found that this period of playing up difference did change the culture of navigating difference in CF for a bounded period (one year). In particular, the core members who participated in these interactions and stayed involved with CF the following year were emboldened to play up differences in small ways in the everyday interactions that constituted group life.
To give a sense of this shift, consider the following interactions that occurred in one of CF’s bible study groups that I observed for nine months (September 2020–May 2021). This group had seven core members and became close-knit over a year of weekly zoom meetings that often lasted for several hours. One week, as bible study was winding down, Corina was sharing a story and became frustrated with Finny and Foundin for having a side conversation (they lived together and joined the bible study Zoom room from a single laptop):
“Foundin doesn’t want to hear my story,” she said, then continued. A few minutes later, when the conversation had shifted topics, Foundin again whispered something to Finny while Corina was talking. This time, Rea, one of the facilitators, apologized on their behalf, noticing Corina’s irritation. Corina shrugged and said, “Yeah, being interrupted by White males. . . . As a woman of color, I am used to it.” When she made this comment, Finny and Foundin quieted down, looking sheepish. (Fieldnotes)
Corina brought race and gender to the fore of the interaction. She used a signaling utterance: as a woman of color. The use of “as a” (followed by a membership category) cues fellow interactants that an axis of difference is being played up. Finny and Foundin did stop whispering, but they did not apologize for interrupting Corina, nor did they challenge her comment. Corina’s tone was playful. Although her exasperation with their side conversations was evident, she was not sparking a broader dialogue about racial and gender dynamics in their group. But she still chose to make identity differences salient, something she had not felt as comfortable doing the previous year when we first met and discussed CF over coffee.
A few weeks later, Corina and Foundin had the following exchange:
I wish I lived in California in the 1950s (He was reflecting on how difficult it was to find off-campus housing in California.).
You mean when segregation was still in place?
I am never more aware of my White privilege than when talking to you, Corina.
I like having that effect on men. (Fieldnotes)
Corina asks Foundin a question that highlights the insensitivity of his offhand comment. Foundin takes up Corina’s play by acknowledging his lack of awareness of his White privilege. In her retort, she casually brings gender into the interaction (“I like having that effect on men”). This, too, was a playful exchange. In both instances, the group moved on, and I did not observe any sustained reckoning with difference. But when I asked Corina to share her thoughts on these exchanges and the small group overall, she told me:
Foundin, Finny, and Alejandro are White men. I was genuinely curious about what their thoughts were—because their lived experience is so different than my lived experience. A lot of my questions were born out of conviction that heaven is going to be filled with people who don’t agree with me. How do I engage with that? (Interview)
She discussed how she often acted as the “naysayer,” challenging her comembers and pushing them to reckon with her lived experiences as well. Corina found ways to play up difference in her small group, which in turn challenged her comembers to think about axes of difference. For members like Corina, playing up difference in 2020 “broke the ice,” revealing that CF could reckon with differences and that the group had a way to go in fostering robust inclusion.
New initiatives were developed during the 2020–2021 academic year. For example, three women of color (Tara, Wren, and Kat) led a bible study focused on exploring difficult questions connected to gender, sexuality, and the Bible. CF had always had all-women small groups, but this was the first time I observed a group specifically focused on gender and politically contentious questions related to Christian faith. This group attracted members like Temi and Kaia, who sought a space within CF where they could discuss such questions and be in community with other progressive, Christian women.
That said, these changes did not last forever. The following year, CF swung the opposite direction and became less racially diverse (Whiter) and less ideologically diverse (more conservative). What happened? First, many members who had participated in playing-up-difference encounters in 2020 graduated, and the new members who came in were more conservative. Second, as the political divisiveness connected to COVID-19 intensified (and as students returned to campus and began collectively navigating health-related guidelines), it became more difficult for CF to maintain internal ideological diversity. 16 That said, in my most recent interviews, I learned that CF’s culture is evolving again because the conservative core members are approaching graduation and the newer members are more racially and ideologically diverse. These shifts serve as a reminder that the pursuit of plurality is an ongoing process, and any group’s capacity to reckon with and hold deep differences may be fragile and hard-won. Given this fragility, what enables playing up difference to occur and be sustained in identity-based groups? I conclude by offering three types of group-level foundations that can enable initiation of and engagement with playing up difference.
General Conditions That Enable Engagement with Axes of Difference amid Rupture
Environmental ruptures play an important role in sparking instances of playing up difference, yet ruptures alone do not lead to sustained engagement with axes of difference. 17 What conditions enabled playing up difference to be engaged, to the extent that it was, in CF? I argue that three types of group-level foundations played a role in fostering sustained engagement.
First, although CF did not intend to create platforms for playing up difference, the group’s structural foundations were such that CF had multiple interactional contexts in which members could exercise voice (from student-led small groups to shared GroupMe channels that most CF members participated in). Having group-wide communication platforms, in particular, proved essential for Ariyo to initiate a period of reckoning with difference in CF. More broadly, individuals’ ability to initiate playing-up-difference encounters in the face of rupture will depend on the presence of forums where members can exercise voice. Different kinds of platforms come with their own affordances and limitations (Davis and Chouinard 2016). 18 In CF, GroupMe provided Ariyo the space to craft an extended message to his community that did not require leader approval and that other members could read and reflect on asynchronously. I suspect that more open, conversational groups will be places where more playing up difference can happen.
Second, the CF case suggests that playing up difference relies on strong relational foundations. Why did Ariyo lob this contention in the first place? Would exiting the group have been easier? Perhaps, but Ariyo’s comments show he cared about his comembers and believed they had the potential to change. Likewise, when we consider other students’ responses, their sense of relational responsibility (to care for comembers who are hurting) is clear. But in another sense, strong relational foundations also played a role in counter-perspectives being voiced. Recall Samuel, who did not engage in the GroupMe dialogue but did voice his ambivalence and uncertainty about Black Lives Matter and the protests in a small group. Flavia posted her concerns about the protests after Greg reminded the group to “not let the brokenness of the world break our relationships.” In short, strong ties can abate some of the riskiness inherent in putting forth beliefs or identities that are not shared by all. This finding is not trivial given that many diversity and inclusion programs operate in contexts where people do not have relational ties to one another (Kalev, Dobbin, and Kelly 2006).
Finally, CF had shared epistemic foundations—common texts, doctrines, and rituals connected to their Christian faith—that provided a framework members drew on in their efforts to play up difference (and respond to one another). In the examples outlined here, members grounded their differences in shared moral frameworks (e.g., Biblical notions of justice or sin), common authorities (Martin Luther King, Jr.), and ritualized practices (e.g., prayer or listening to sermons). Scholars have demonstrated how shared beliefs and rituals foster collective identities and cohesion (Braunstein et al. 2014; Ghaziani and Baldassarri 2011); I find that shared beliefs and rituals can also be leveraged to play up conflict-laden differences. Furthermore, by drawing on shared epistemic foundations, an initiator can ward off sanctioning. As we saw with Kaia, sanctioning is more likely to occur when a member is seen as stepping outside the group’s shared epistemic foundations.
These foundations should not be thought of in probabilistic terms (e.g., that any playing-up-difference encounter relies on the activation of all three or that having these foundations makes playing up difference inevitable). Instead, structural, relational, and epistemic foundations can be understood as a group’s store of collective resources that can be leveraged for playing-up-difference encounters. All three foundations can be drawn on at various “stages” of a playing-up-difference encounter, but my findings suggest each type of foundation may be particularly important at specific stages of the playing-up-difference process. Figure 1 summarizes this argument and offers a simple process model for playing up difference.
A summary process model of playing up difference.
Discussion
I began this article with a question that lies at the heart of social theory: How do groups navigate the many intersecting circles their members embody (Simmel [1908] 2009)? Existing research shows the myriad ways that differences are downplayed. But to date, we lacked clarity on when and how differences are played up in group life. I define playing up difference as the situations where group members put forth personal identities or beliefs that are not shared by all, thus creating opportunities for axes of difference to be collectively reckoned with.
I examined playing up difference in the life of one identity-based group marked by significant internal diversity: “Christian Fellowship.” In the wake of George Floyd’s murder, which acted as an environmental rupture, CF members grappled with their internal differences as a faith-based, multiethnic, and politically diverse community. CF’s ability to claim diversity as a core strength without reckoning with identity-based inequalities (a strategy that worked in “settled” times; Swidler 1986) was challenged by a time of national racial reckoning. Categorical differences that had always existed within CF were activated and fault lines became visible. Some progressive members questioned whether the group was for them if it did not take a strong stance on the side of racial justice. Some conservative members questioned whether the group was for them if it did support movements like Black Lives Matter.
This case shows first, that ruptures play a crucial role in sparking playing-up-difference encounters. But while ruptures open space for initiating playing-up-difference encounters, shared foundations are necessary for the axes of difference put forth to be engaged rather than avoided. Structural foundations (interactional forums where members can exercise voice) are essential for initiation and ongoing dialogue. Relational foundations (the strength of ties between group members) enable members to take a chance at discord and increase a sense of relational responsibility to respond to initiators. Finally, epistemic foundations (shared premises and rituals) can veer a group toward deeper engagement by providing a moral-cultural base on which differences can be reckoned with.
The Co-constitution of Events and Identities through Playing up Difference
Playing up difference is an interactional process that links social categories, events, and modes of engagement. Both identities and events must be actively constituted, and they are often co-constituted. Events, which are inherently restless (Wagner-Pacifici 2010), may find their rest in local groups through members’ efforts to play up difference. Recall Ariyo, who sought to make the murders of George Floyd and Ahmaud Abery salient to all comembers, especially those who were otherwise at risk of “missing” the event.
But my analysis also suggests that identities, as fluid entities, may find their rest in events. This occurs first in people and then in groups when members leverage events to play up difference. Regimes of engagements (modal ways of engaging with others and the world; Thévenot 2015) are where identities and events meet. This aligns with Luhtakallio and Tavory’s (2018) argument that we should attend to patterns of engagement (rather than static notions of collective identity) to understand how commonality is created in social movements. My analysis further suggests that engagements can help us understand how difference is made manifest in groups that may otherwise overemphasize the production of commonality.
Further questions arise: Can playing up difference be sparked without environmental ruptures? And who can orchestrate ruptures? On the former, it is possible for playing up difference to occur without environmental rupture, but it will be more challenging to disrupt a local interaction order without an external rupture serving as an impetus. On the latter, who can orchestrate ruptures will depend on the group and the structural foundations in place. Generally speaking, larger and more public settings may tend to be more leader-guided, whereas smaller groups and more private settings may enable a broader array of bottom-up ruptures. Furthermore, some organizations create more forums for voice and open dialogue than others. The advent of mediated communication enables new opportunities for voice, as the CF case demonstrates. An interesting example of this in a different setting is Turco’s (2016) work on “conversational firms,” which increase opportunities for employee voice and transparency but not opportunities for employees to participate in decision-making. Such organizations might allow for more bottom-up instances of playing up difference than traditional firms, but given the lack of openness in decision-making, playing up difference may not lead to sustained changes in organizational cultures.
The Pursuit of Plurality and Wholeness in Tiny Publics
A fundamental question we face in modern societies is how to navigate the multifaceted, ever-present differences in our midst. As Allen and Somanathan (2020:12) note: “Over the course of the twentieth century alone, both human populations and their incomes per capita quadrupled and the world saw extraordinary rates of human migration. The combined result is human communities that are as dense and socially heterogeneous as the world has ever seen.” This increase in social heterogeneity is further complicated by shifting meanings of identities (e.g., dynamic, intersectional, embodied) and groups (e.g., emergent, gradational, subcategorical; Monk 2022). How do we build shared communities and organizations amid intense pluralism?
This question cannot be fully addressed in the space remaining, but I offer a few provocations. My core contention is that “inclusion” and “integration” are ongoing projects, in the Deweyan sense, rather than goals to be accomplished or policies to be implemented. One useful end-in-view for contemporary groups may be what Allen (2018:156) calls wholeness:
The goal of democratic politics should be the achievement not of “oneness”—total agreement or consensus or spiritual affinity—but of wholeness, “the coherence and integrity of a consolidated but complex, intricate, and differentiated body.”
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This concept of wholeness aligns with Thévenot’s (2014, 2015) efforts to center plurality in contemporary social theory. As Thévenot argues, we need to account for how people differ as they try to simultaneously justify their concerns within their community and recognize their shared humanity and equal footing with others. A key process he offers is composing, which aims at arranging different voices to form commonality. The question groups face is how to build a composite and conflicting community, which requires answering what kinds of disagreements can be integrated (Thévenot 2014:9).
What does playing up difference offer with regard to the cultivation of composite, conflicting communities? Two things. First, playing up difference offers an analytic level of focus: tiny publics (Fine 2009). Publics are more durable than interactions yet more interactional than fields (Martin 2003). Most of sociology focuses on the macro and micro levels, leaving the meso level of group life less explored (Fine and Hallett 2022). But the majority of social life occurs in little platoons (Fine 2020). Sociologists belong to universities and professional associations through departments, centers, and sections. Catholics belong to the Roman Catholic Church through 50-person parishes, each with its own priest and pews. Many of the groups we belong to are indeed imagined (Anderson 1983), but it is hard to imagine away the rub of difference or the surprise of familiarity as it appears in the retiree who lives one floor down, the fellow activist who pushes for their version of the cause, or the colleague who talks too much. Playing up difference occurs at this level, in the interactions embedded in local groups and tiny publics. The durability of such groups is important because interactions must be understood within contexts, and difference itself perhaps can only be understood in context. This meso level, which is often discounted as nongeneralizable, is where civic action, if not most social action, occurs (Fine 2021).
The Dialectic of Difference and Commonality
Finally, I contend that difference and commonality are not opposites, but a dialectic. Much existing scholarship focuses on how groups move from difference to commonality, but my findings suggest that reckoning with difference requires first establishing a base of commonality. Simmel (1950) suggests that the strongest love can stand a blow most easily, and it is the most firmly grounded relationships that take a chance at discord. My findings likewise suggest that reckoning with difference relies on structural, relational, and epistemic foundations that provide firm grounding to play on. Ultimately, playing up difference is a way to voice concern and differ in the context of group life; it may be a way to foster what Lorde (1983) calls “funds of polarities,” which must exist alongside funds of commonality to spark creative action. Playing up difference is therefore worthy of continued exploration, probing its potential to advance wholeness and plurality in civic and organizational life.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
For thoughtful comments, I thank Forrest Stuart, Woody Powell, Michael Strand, my anonymous reviewers, and the participants of Stanford’s Qualitative and Ethnographic Methods, Networks and Organizations, and Higher Education Workshops. The article also benefited from presentations at MIT Sloan, Boston University, the University of Memphis, and the 2023 ASA meeting in Philadelphia. My deepest gratitude goes to the members and leaders of Christian Fellowship, who allowed me to explore their efforts to build community across lines of difference.
