Abstract
In recent years, colleges and universities in the United States have considered allowing concealed firearms on their campuses. Yet, substantive research on why a minority of students’ desire to arm themselves is scarce. Addressing this gap in the literature, this study examines 30 interviews with chapter presidents of a national student gun rights organization. Using racialized narratives, participants express intense feelings of vulnerability on campus and in the larger society. Extending Feagin’s theory of systemic racism to gun politics, I argue respondents’ belief that they must be armed to co-exist with people of color reproduces racial inequality and poses a potential threat to students, faculty, and staff of color.
Introduction
Over the last 20 years, episodes of mass violence at US colleges and universities, specifically school shootings, have taken root in the American consciousness. In response to these horrific events, prospective students and their parents have begun placing an increased priority on campus safety. Self-locking doors, encrypted key cards, emergency shelters, and armed campus security guards have become ‘best practices’ in securing a campus. Though their ability to prevent large-scale violence is difficult to assess, these procedures have successfully prevented everyday criminal acts such as theft, burglary, and vandalism (Rasmussen and Johnson, 2008). While the current standards in campus security adequately address the safety concerns of most families, ‘self-help’ strategies have been advanced by students that are discontent with the safety status quo. The most noteworthy student ‘self-help’ organization, and subject of this study, is Prepared Students (PS).
PS was founded in 2007 in response to a string of campus shootings as an advocacy organization for concealed handgun license (CHL) holders. Specifically, PS was established to fight for citizens with CHLs’ right to carry firearms on campus just as their license allows in most other areas of society. After a successful lawsuit against Springs College, finding a ban on campus carry illegal under state law, PS used expert legal and political skills to advance concealed carry on campuses in 12 states. 1 Specific tactics proven to be successful for PS include extensive lobbying, prolonged legal battles, and ‘empty holster’ protests organized through Facebook, the organization’s primary means of disseminating information. As a result of their successful political strategies, PS now boasts 36,000 members with over 300 individual chapters at colleges and universities in the United States. Due to the transient nature of college students, it is difficult to assess the accuracy of these claims. Despite its increased influence in the social and political spheres, PS has remained largely unexamined by the sociological community. Especially, the nature and implications of its rather homogeneous demographic. This study addresses the void of sociological analysis by exploring the vulnerability narratives of PS to gain insight into why campus carry matters to PS’ members. Specifically, this study seeks to understand how the narratives guiding PS shape the demographics of its membership and what these stories reveal about members experiences and interpretation of their world.
Literature review
To date, only Couch (2017) has approached a sociological analysis of PS. Through an examination of the self-defense narratives influencing PS’ leadership, Couch (2017) found a significant segment of PS’ leaders construct their need to carry firearms using White racially framed language. Rather than describing their desire to carry firearms in a generic manner, the students in Couch’s study frame their need to be armed in racialized terms. Specifically, Couch found PS’ leaders identify Black and Latino men as their greatest sources of threat and reason to carry a firearm. Couch’s work is important as an initial analysis of PS and sociological examination of student gun ownership. It also serves as a point of departure strongly suggesting further analysis of PS is needed. This article strengthens the sociological research on PS through extending Couch’s threat narrative analysis with an examination of vulnerability narratives.
Though sociological research on PS is scarce, insight into PS and its members may be obtained through an analysis of gun ownership in the United States. Smith and Uchida (1988) assert gun owners in the US practice self-help through firearms due to citizens’ lack of faith that the state will protect against crime. Fear of crime coupled with distrust in the collective security structures motivates the purchase of a firearm as a means of enhancing private security (Gua, 2008; McDowall and Loftin, 1983; Young et al. 1987). Drawing from Rayner’s (1992) cultural theory of risk, criminologists find that rather than being dependent on the state, citizens are likely to arm themselves due to the individualist narrative permeating American society (Braman and Kahan, 2006; Downs, 2002; Kahan and Black, 2003). White males expressing explicitly racist views are more likely than any other group to own firearms for self-protection (Young, 1986). Additional research suggests White, male, conservative gun owners deploy firearms as a means of addressing anxieties with a changing world (Ansell, 2001; Berlet and Lyon, 2000; Burbick, 2006; Connell, 2005; Melzer, 2012; O’Neill, 2007; Stabile, 2006; Stroud, 2012), while Black gun owners practice neo-radical politics, based on Black experiences with state oppression, to interpret firearms as a means of protection from a raceless criminal, police, and other officials with the propensity to violate one’s civil rights (Carlson, 2012).
While the above research provides potential glimpses into PS’ membership, it fails to grasp the nuance of PS as a student-based gun rights organization. Recent studies on undergraduate firearms ownership suggests students possessing CHLs are a ‘high risk’ population engaging in chronic risky behavior, trouble with the police, and possessing a history of binge drinking and illegal drug use (Douglas et al., 1997; Miller et al., 1999, 2002). Others have observed undergraduates with CHL’s disproportionately express authoritarian or dogmatic personality types (Bouffard et al., 2012; Cavanaugh et al., 2012). These findings are significant in that they highlight the subtleties that make student gun owners distinct in the way they experience and interpret their world. This study delves further into these nuances through analyzing the specific narratives PS’ leaders employ to describe their vulnerability to crime.
Vulnerability is the risk of exposure to loss of control. This presents a meaningful point of analysis for this study because as post-racial/feminist ideologies have taken root in popular culture, vulnerability politics have emerged as a means of recuperating and reproducing privilege and inequality through universalistic discourses and have become increasingly pertinent to social and political life (Carlson, 2013; Killias, 1990). The larger social science research suggests vulnerability may be assessed through the identification of conditions constituting a vulnerable context (Burton et al., 1993; Cutter et al, 2003). Instances most often defined as vulnerable are heavily associated with structural issues such as racism, classism, and sexism (Carlson, 2013; Hollander, 2001; Pantazis, 2000). Thus, analyzing vulnerability through an intersectional lens allows for more dynamic insight into understanding how structures and systems of privilege and oppression converge to shape the likelihood of finding oneself in a vulnerable context.
Intersectionality is critical to this study as it highlights the specific structural experiences of PS’ members and allows for understanding how these nuances influences inform their construction of vulnerability. Compared to other groups, White men are not victimized at greater rates and, in fact, the 2018 National Crime Victimization Survey (NCVS) 2 suggests that they may have lower rates of victimization than do people of color or women. This NCVS data are significant to this study in that it illuminates the statistical likelihood that White males, the majority of PS’ membership, will experience contexts of vulnerability. Since White males are less likely to be victimized than women and people of color, it is important that the sociological community scrutinizes the methods, language, and themes used by White males when framing themselves as vulnerable.
Despite the insulation granted by privilege, regressive social projects have long utilized vulnerability narratives as means of resisting calls for social change. Rather than approaching vulnerability as a structural issue impacting specific segments of society, dominant groups frame vulnerability as a fundamental aspect of human life – granting them the option of claiming ‘victim status’ (Donovan, 2006; Dragiewicz, 2008). Much of this co-opting of vulnerability has emerged though developing and employing a cognitive frame of reference justifying both dominant groups’ position in society and resistance of social change (Feagin, 2006). Feagin’s theory of systemic racism provides valuable insights for understanding dominant group members’ use of vulnerability narratives despite structural insulation.
The theory of systemic racism argues racism is foundational to American society and ‘encompasses a broad range of racialized dimensions . . . developed over centuries by whites’ (Feagin, 2006: xii). Since first contact with people of color, Whites have socially, economically, and physically exploited and constructed people of color from within a cognitive framework of racial oppression known as the ‘white racial frame’ (Feagin, 2010a). This centuries-old worldview constructed by Whites rationalizes racial oppression through racial stereotypes, narratives and their interpretations, images, language, and emotions (Feagin, 2010b). These elements may be observed in both ‘hard’/explicit and ‘soft’/implicit variations (Wingfield and Feagin, 2013).
The implications of using systemic racism and the White racial frame in the study is that they highlight the significance of racialized emotions, namely fear and anger, in the construction of vulnerability narratives. Specifically, this theoretical model and its conceptual tool allow for understanding how the members of PS involved in this study define themselves as vulnerable subjects despite most being structurally insulated. In the analysis that follows, Feagin’s theory provides significant insight into how the members of PS make sense of their world, experiences, and the need to carry a firearm and how the narratives employed to communicate these understandings shape PS’ largely homogeneous demographic.
Methodology
Participants in this study were recruited through messages on individual chapter Facebook pages, handing out fliers at chapter meetings, leaving fliers with local firearms dealers, mass recruitment emails to national organization leaders, and snowball sampling (Noy, 2008). A total of 17 different chapter meetings were attended and approximately 130 emails were sent. These procedures yielded 53 students requesting more information on the project. Individuals expressing interest in the study were given a detailed description of the project as well as what their part in the study would be. After additional information was provided, 34 students agreed to proceed as participants. When data collection began, only 30 of PS’ members could be reached due to scheduling conflicts. Demographic information of the students involved in this study is provided in Table 1.
Respondent Demographics.
Semi-structured, qualitative interviews (interview schedule provided upon request) were used as the primary means of data collection. Strategic probing following open-ended questions allowed for an exploration of how respondents’ lived experiences affected their perception of reality and understanding of their vulnerability to crime. Semi-structured interviews provided the ability to see past the superficial to grasp the structural, and often racialized, underpinnings of the core beliefs motivating PS’ leadership.
Individual interviews were conducted at times and through mediums agreeable to the individual participant. Mediums for interviews included face-to-face, telephone, and Skype (audio only). Each interview opened with a brief discussion of the participant’s involvement with PS. This portion of the interview asked respondents questions surrounding how they came to be involved with the organization and why their participation is important. Members were then asked to outline the foreseeable advantages and consequences of permitting concealed carry on campus. Portion 1 of each interview concluded with a brief vignette focusing on the desire to become involved in PS.
The second phase of the interview focused on the student’s personal carrying practices. This portion of the interview process was interested in investigating the participant’s personal history with firearms and the role they play in the individual’s daily life. This section of the interview concluded with a vignette addressing the desire to obtain a CHL.
Finally, the interview concluded with questions about chapter demographics and recruiting strategies. This portion of the interview was centered on questions concerned with how individual members describe the demographics of their respective chapters of PS. In addition, participants were asked to discuss the steps their chapter has taken to recruit new members. Upon completing the interview, participants were asked to fill out a brief demographic form.
All interviews were transcribed by the researcher. This decision was made to allow for revisiting conversations and extracting information originally missed while conducting the interview. To ensure that data have been fully extracted from each interview, all recordings were reviewed twice. Content analysis was used to identify the structural patterns that emerged during interviews. Critical to ‘making replicable and valid inferences from data to their context’ (Krippendorff, 1980), this analytic approach illuminated narrative trends across interviews apt for contextualizing within the systemic racism framework. Specifically, the patterns of racially framing vulnerability and displays of racialized emotions observed in interviews lent themselves to this framework. Guided by theory, transcripts were scrutinized once more, noting variations in how participants expressed racialized emotions and described their vulnerability to crime. Special attention was given to systemic patterns and tensions within responses, marking frequency and the logical coherence in which interviewees expressed ideas. This procedure resulted in the identification of two narratives specific to how the members of PS construct their vulnerability to crime and requisite need to carry firearms.
Findings
The common theme across the narratives present in the interviews with PS’ members was a feeling of losing control of one’s life. The most common site in which participants expressed feelings of loss of control was within the larger US society. Respondents displaying this specific narrative racially framed the election of President Barack Obama as a turning point in US society and the beginning of a collapse in social order. The second most common site PS’ members defined as a location in which control has been lost was the college/university campus. Participants expressing this particular version of loss of control asserted changes on campus stemming from increased racial diversity have devolved the college campus into a lawless space with apathetic administrators. These two variations of a narrative of losing control may be referred to as the ‘Lost Country’ and ‘Lost Campus’ storylines. In the following sections, both storylines are analyzed in detail using interviews with PS’ local chapter presidents. Both storylines permeated most of the interviews with PS’ members, but the specific individuals discussed in the following sections are significant due to their influential role in shaping PS. As chapter presidents, they were responsible for shaping the goals of their individual chapters and communicating the mission of the larger national organization to their members and respective campuses.
‘Lost country’
The most pervasive storyline throughout my interviews centered on a belief in a recent collapse in social order. Often speaking from a soft-framed version of the White racial frame, subjects described social instability as an increasing source of vulnerability in their lives. Changes in the US political structure were frequently used to express participant feelings in a loss of control and requisite need to carry a firearm. Early in the interview while discussion why being a part of PS was important, Boston explained, It just seems to me that our government wants to take away our most basic right so they can take control of us. Just look at all that has happened since Obama got elected. We have foreign counties threatening to bomb us and the ones that aren’t doing that are invading us by jumping across the border and Obama is just fine with that. He has really fucked things up man. He has ruined all of the stuff President Bush did to help build our country up. I mean, it’s all gone. I mean really, how do we go from being the safest nation in the world under Bush into a country where our own military is shooting up citizens and we reward criminals. Obama is just a weak leader man and it shows in what’s going on in our country. The reality is that if you want to be safe today, you have to carry. If you don’t, you’re asking to be a victim. That’s the thing about anti-gun people. They want to be victims. They pretend we still live in a safe society, but the truth is we don’t . . . we just don’t.
On the surface, Boston’s comments appear as a political diatribe. Yet, meaningful insight is extracted from notes on his attire.
On first meeting with Boston, it was observed that his t-shirt contained a prominent image and written statement. In large red letters, the back of the white shirt read ‘GIVE ME MY COUNTRY BACK!’ Below this statement was a monkey-like caricature of President Obama in an animal cage with the words ‘The Thief’ embossed on a bracket at the top as though on display in a zoo. Beside President Obama’s depiction was an image of a White family having a picnic in a park. Below both images in large blue font read ‘VOTE TEA PARTY!’ These images and statements warrant analysis.
The presentation of President Obama as ape-like is part of a long history of Whites dehumanizing people of color using racial imagery (Hill, 2013). Animalistic depictions of Blacks date back to the 1900s and have been central to the White racial frame (Feagin, 2006). Such depictions have proven critical to the oppression of communities of color as racial images serve to dehumanize and legitimize the violent and discriminatory treatment of people of color (Feagin, 2010b). In addition, depictions of a caged Black man paired with a picnicking White family bears an eerie resemblance to the cultural practice of lynching as the horrific affair often accompanied White family meals and children’s games (Neal, 2011; Williams-Myers, 1994). Collectively, Boston’s shirt was laden with appeals to White racialized emotions suggesting that if White voters support the Tea Party Movement, their lives could return to the ‘good old days’.
Coupled with his attire, Boston’s statement is illuminated. He identifies a loss of control of what he feels is ‘his country’ to people of color, specifically Blacks and Latinos, and believes under the Obama Administration, the US is no longer safe. Boston views the US in a war-like state in which citizens are consistently victimized by each other. Furthermore, those living outside the US threaten large-scale violence and are invading by ‘jumping across the border’. Thus, he believes he must arm himself if he is to ensure his safety against imminent threats. Boston was not unique in his framing of society as his sentiments were observed in conversations with Dillon.
Dillon’s chapter of PS frequently engaged in anti-immigrant discourse and embraced nativist ideology. While describing changes in the US and how they impact campus carry, Dillon brought up concerns about ‘losing the border’. He explained, One thing a lot of Americans don’t understand is that if we’re not careful, we will lose this country in the next decade or so. Obama is already taking steps to make sure that happens. I mean, he is taking away the very rights that make us Americans. He is even trying to change the actual borders of our country so that illegal aliens from Mexico can walk right in, no problem. We already have enough of that now. If you go to any store now you will see Spanish labels on things. That’s not America. It’s like he’s trying to change the country into ‘North Mexico’ and with that change comes the cartels. You see all that shit they are doing along the border. Obama is just asking for them to bring that up here. He doesn’t love this country.
Like Boston, Dillon identifies President Obama as the source of social decline. According to Dillon, President Obama’s election triggered the collapse of the very foundations of the US, including the national border. Echoing other PS presidents, Dillon believes immigrants are a vice-driven homogeneous group being aided by President Obama in a quest to take over the United States. This belief was further illuminated as Dillon described the paper targets at the firing range his chapter frequents. Dillon stated,
There are some pretty cool ones out there, too. The place I like just got in some new targets that look like the Mexican army. We used to have some old Obama ones, but these new ones are pretty cool.
Oh yea? They sound interesting. What do they look like?
You know, just some wetback. Haha That sounds fucking racist huh? Haha It’s an ‘illegal immigrant’. Some of them even have guns or drugs with them. Just basic shit like that.
Why do you think the owner of the range selected those specific targets over something else or just a silhouette? (This question was beginning to make Dillon uncomfortable)
(Speaking much louder and more harshly) How the hell am I supposed to know?! But shit, you see what’s going on down where you are. Mexicans are invading our country. They already have our jobs. Before you know it, we won’t even be able to have a woman because they will take them too haha. Seriously though, there is a lot of crime and shit that comes with them coming over here and we have to be prepared to protect ourselves and those we love.
The above exchange with Dillon highlights the racial attitudes informing his beliefs about immigrants. He explicitly uses war metaphors to define Mexican immigrants as violent threats. This is significant as Santa Ana (2002) has found that the metaphors an individual uses provides great insight into the cognitive frames they use to interpret the world. Describing Mexicans as an ‘army . . . invading our country’, Dillon redefines immigrants from families desiring a better life into a band of marauders crossing the US border to pillage his society. In addition, Dillon argues Mexicans with firearms and narcotics are ‘just basic shit’. Moving beyond viewing Mexican immigrants as a problem, Dillon’s claim that Mexicans with guns and drugs are ‘basic’ reveals that for him, criminality and vice are the essence of being Mexican. Dillon problematizes not only immigrants, but also Mexicans in general.
Dillon is not an outlier. He reflects a common sentiment among PS’ leadership that Mexico and Mexican immigrants pose a direct threat to US social order. Whether describing them as drug dealers, cartel members, or rapists, the members of PS involved in this study routinely frame Mexicans as sources of great fear and vulnerability in their lives. This fear has long been at play in the White mind. For centuries, Whites have used racialized vulnerability narratives as well as rights language to justify arming themselves against a perceived national threat from Latinos (Chavez, 2013; Santa Ana, 2002). Dillon’s statements fit well within this tradition. He views Mexicans and Mexican immigrants as imminent threats to US social order and sources of vulnerability in his life. If he is to be secure from the collapse of society, Dillon believes he must be armed. While Boston, Dillon, and most of the participants in this study frame their feelings of a larger sense of losing control in political terms, there was a segment (6 respondents) that identified losing control with significant disruptions in their lives.
Departing from politically driven discourse, Rod provides an example of the alternate way the members of PS construct vulnerability in the larger society through attaching it to significant changes in their personal lives. Throughout his interview, Rod frequently referenced the state of social decay he believed described the contemporary United States. During one such statement, Rod explained, Well look around the country, hell the whole world; we see that violence is everywhere. It seems like every day somebody is getting killed over something. It’s just a different world than when we were kids. I mean, you didn’t have to worry about Dairy Queen and the candy store when we were little, but now somebody could walk into one of those places and kill everyone. It’s like nothing is sacred anymore. It’s just not the same man. You don’t even have to look for trouble, it will find you nowadays. My dad tells me about when he was a kid and everyone respected each other, but he says today it’s like those rules don’t apply. Nowadays it’s like you have to always watch your back.
Rod describes the US as a society in which all social order has dissolved, forcing you to ‘always watch your back’ because trouble will ‘find you nowadays’. Distinguishing his childhood from adult life, Rod argues that safety and mutual respect no longer exist in modern society and that ‘nothing is sacred’. Interested in the difference between his childhood and present life, Rod was asked to expand on these two phases.
During his teenage years, his father was laid off and the family was forced to uproot their suburban lifestyle and move to Cityville, a prominently Black community Rod often refers to as ‘the hood’. While living in this area, Rod claims to have frequently observed ‘gangs jumping in new members’ and ‘drug deals’. Throughout his detailing of the change experienced during his childhood, Rod often emphasizes that his family was not like ‘the people there’. While describing this neighborhood, Rod explained, There was all kinds of shit down there. Drugs. Gangs. Prostitutes. If it was fucked up then it was there haha. We never really fit in down there. I still don’t really understand that part of my life. I guess my family was just different than the other people there. We saw the world differently. We understood hard work and respect. Our neighbors in the hood didn’t get that stuff though. They didn’t respect anything. Hell, they didn’t respect anyone.
Rod’s reference to the ‘hood’, shifts his explanation from rather generic to racialized as his use of ‘hood’ is accompanied by a description riddled with tropes often associated with cultural racism and a soft-framed employment of the White racist frame (Bonilla-Silva, 2013; Feagin, 2010b). As the influences of cultural racism are illuminated, it becomes clearer that during his time in Cityville, Dillon came to associate people of color with crime and found them to be culturally lacking. This belief is highlighted in his assertion that his neighbors did not respect anything or anyone, a clear contrast to the values he claims were exhibited by his displaced White suburban family.
In conjunction with his statement about the social decay of the US, Rod’s arguments about dissolving social order reflect being removed from a White suburban lifestyle and placed into a community populated with people of color he came to view as violent and culturally inferior. Being placed into such a situation likely traumatized Rod’s entire family as indicated in the advice he claims to have received from his father. Rod appears to have never recovered from the disruption of being forced to move to Cityville. Rather, he has extended this experience to the larger society he now views as unstable and lawless. Like others in PS, Rod’s personal experience with forced social change has resulted in feelings of losing control of his life which may only be relieved by carrying a firearm.
The chapter presidents discussed in this section exemplify the feelings of losing control within society expressed by participants in this study. Whether displayed through hostile anti-Obama discourse, nativist rhetoric, or cultural racism, the participants in this study stress the feeling of being out of control of their lives. Whether or not these feelings are empirically supported, the only remedy the members of PS see for their perceived increased vulnerability is always being armed. Aside from concerns of losing control in the larger society, being a student-based organization; the members of PS also express feelings of being out of control on their college/university campuses.
‘Lost campus’
The members of PS involved in this study spent significant portions of our conversations discussing the feeling of vulnerability on their campus. Often, members’ concerns centered on a belief that increased numbers of students of color on campus decreased campus safety. One student expressing this narrative was Garrett. Garrett spent much of his interview discussing the changes he observed during his 4 years at his institution. Noting the changes he believes have occurred on campus, Garrett explained, This used to be a nice campus. I mean you could walk to The Cafe anytime and it was never a problem. We didn’t even really have police or anything on campus. It changed though two years ago. As soon as we started having sports on our campus, things got all fucked. Now people get robbed every day. You hear of women getting raped at least once a week. I mean in my dorm this last week, I heard that five guys got beat up by the basketball players. Of course, you know the school isn’t going to do anything about it because they love the athletes. I’m not going to be a victim though. If the school isn’t going to do anything, I will. The Second Amendment is my God-given right and I will use it.
Garrett’s identification of sports teams as the primary cause of decreased safety on campus warrants discussion. After reviewing athletic rosters, it was discovered that 73% of student-athletes at Garrett’s institution were students of color. Garrett utilizes the race-neutral language of color-blindness to construct his college campus into a pre- and post-sports binary. In doing so, Garrett creates a narrative about the impact of increased Black and Latino enrollment at his institution. This increase in students of color is treated as a tipping point at which White students no longer feel safe on their campus. Demographers have long noted this phenomenon in residential communities (Schelling, 1971). Garrett attributes his feelings of losing control in the collegiate context to more students of color entering his institution and disrupting what he believes was a ‘nice campus’. This worldview is made explicit later in the interview when Garrett claimed, ‘Fucking wetbacks are taking our country and Blacks are stealing our women. I mean really, look around any campus in this country and you’ll see it. We really don’t have anything anymore’. In this hard framed expression, Garrett calls up deep racial imagery and stereotypes to explain the loss of control he now feels on the college campus. Garrett’s sentiments are echoed by other chapter presidents interviewed for this study.
Similar to Garrett, Hunter expressed feelings of losing control on campus that were often associated with encountering Black students. Frequently referencing early college experiences as removing the veil of safety from higher education, Hunter used colorblind language to describe incidents contributing to his sense of vulnerability. While discussing his first semester in college, Hunter explained, For me, it all changed when I got to college. I can remember coming to freshman orientation and thinking college was going to be great . . . Once classes got started and everyone was here it was different though. There were these guys down the hall, and they would have parties all night with loud rap music. Don’t get me wrong, I like that stuff, but not every night. They would even be out in the hall rapping and smoking weed too. After a few weeks, my stuff started coming up missing and I knew it was them . . . Having my stuff come up missing really made me wake up to the way the world really works. That world where everyone gets along just doesn’t exist. If people don’t like you or think you are weak, they fuck you over. Bottom line.
Hunter pinpoints the disappearance of his belongings as the moment he began to experience feelings of loss of control. Such feelings are understandable, but it is worth noting that he automatically assumes the perpetrators were the students down the hall. When asked how he knew it was his neighbors, Hunter explained, ‘Everyone knows those guys are just a bunch of gangbangers. If you could see them, you’d know what I mean. Let’s just say they don’t look like they have ever actually attended a class’. Based on his response, it is evident Hunter associates his neighbors with criminality based on nothing more than their appearance. Hunter’s comments become further revealing as his description of ‘gangbangers’ and ‘weed-smoking rappers’ reflect stereotypes stemming from decades old soft racist framing (Feagin, 2010). Such language calls up racist imagery in the White mind and has long been used to communicate racist ideas while appearing colorblind (Hill, 2013; Rose, 2008).
Hunter’s narrative is very similar to the sentiment expressed by Emma. One of the two women in this study, Emma often fell outside of the patriarchal entitlement common among many of the male participants. Though resisting the oppressive narratives of patriarchy, she often provided racially framed narratives about the decline of areas of campus that were heavily populated with students of color. Describing feelings of unease while walking home from her afternoon classes, Emma explained, Having morning classes is better. People are much friendlier then. Once the afternoon comes and the people that live in Lindsey Hall wake up, things really change. I avoid that whole part of campus if I can after about 1 or 2. I’ve heard there are fights every day over there. I’ve even been told about a few girls who were walking home and were raped in broad daylight. A couple of the guys I know warned me about that place, so I just stay away. I’ll take the long way home to avoid going near Lindsey.
Common of many of the respondents in the study, Emma uses race-neutral language to describe feelings of being out of control in certain areas of campus. Specifically, she is concerned about the residents in Lindsey Hall. Roger and Ben, students at the same institution, referred to the area around Lindsey Hall as the ‘ghetto on campus’ and ‘ratchet’. After researching the north side of campus where Lindsey is located, it was discovered that Lindsey is a set of co-ed dorms designed for cohorting first-generation students and is heavily occupied by students of color. Many of its residents are honor students, but due to financial difficulties live in this sub-par hall. Additional research found that from 2011 to 2013, Lindsey Hall experienced less crime than the other dorms on campus combined. Provided with this information, claims of vulnerability to violence in the area made by respondents become both perplexing and illuminated. Placed in an area of campus largely occupied by students of color, many of the members of the Sowest University chapter of PS express feelings of being out of control of their environment whether an actual threat is present or not.
The respondents discussed in this section reflect the general sentiment of the members of PS involved in this study. Participants view campuses as sites of decreased stability and safety warranting arming oneself. As identified in the narrative offered by Garrett, Hunter, and Emma, an increased presence of students of color is frequently viewed by the members of PS as a source of vulnerability. These claims of elevated risk are often laden with racial stereotypes and imagery emerging from the dominant racial frame. Specifically, respondents use the language of ‘gangbangers’, ‘weed smokers’, and ‘thugs’, to communicate feelings of vulnerability.
Conclusion
The larger policy debate surrounding concealed firearms on campus focuses primarily on the likelihood of students using firearms to attack a generic student. Much of this research focuses on the demographics of gun owners in an attempt to better understand who would be most likely to conceal carry on campus. While many of these studies report the high alcohol consumption of individuals with CHLs and their increased likelihood to engage in risky behaviors, they fail to connect this trend with the demographic category most likely to obtain a CHL (White males) and the specific ways they construct their vulnerability to crime. Having made this connection, this study reveals a critical aspect of student gun rights advocates – most construct their vulnerability in relation to people of color. Therefore, this must be taken into account when campus administrators are deliberating on decisions to allow concealed carry on college campuses.
In addition to aiding the development of campus firearm policy, this study also deepens the sociological understanding of Feagin’s theory of system racism. Through the identification of White racial framing in the construction of PS’ vulnerability narratives, a context outside of Feagin’s initial analysis, this study affirms Feagin’s claim about the pervasiveness of the pro-White/ anti-other framework and should encourage further research into possible relationships between systemic racism, racial framing, and narrative development.
Seeking to understand the narratives and social philosophies guiding PS and shaping its homogeneous membership, this study analyzed the vulnerability narratives provided by presidents of PS chapters across the United States. After scrutinizing participants’ responses, it was found that PS’ leaders often construct their vulnerability in terms of losing control in various areas of their lives. Specifically, respondents expressed experiences of losing control on the college/university campus and within the larger society. Whether stated explicitly or merely implied, PS’ leaders frequently used racially framed language to develop narratives outlining the exact ways in which control was lost. Much of the vulnerability expressed by participants in this study stemmed from increased interactions with people of color or the potential for such interaction. This finding is significant in that it illuminates the fundamental beliefs guiding PS, and thus, influencing firearm policy on college and university campuses across the United States.
Limitations
While great efforts were made to ensure the quality of this study, it is not without limitations. First, respondents disproportionately represent the southern region on the United States. Cultural attitudes related to racial difference and firearms have been found to be heavily associated with regional differences (Nisbett and Cohen, 1996). Thus, it is possible that the overrepresentation of students from the southern US had a disproportionate impact on the findings in this study. Second, due to the language of the informed consent form, intercoder reliability was not able to be established. When respondents agreed to participate in this study, they were told only the researcher would have access to their raw and uncoded interviewers. This decision was made as a concession to gain access to the population of interest based on initial conversations with members of PS. It is possible that additional researchers’ analysis of the raw interviews could have identified additional trends and storylines within the data as well as offered critiques of the narratives discussed in this article. Future research on PS should work to establish both wider regional representation of participants and intercoder reliability.
Footnotes
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.