CHAPTER VIII

CAN NEIGHBORHOOD WORK HAVE A SCIENTIFIC BASIS?

Neighborhood work at present and as now practiced cannot, for two

reasons, be said to be based upon science. First, the social

sciences—and I refer to sociology in particular—have at present little

to offer as a scientific basis for social work; secondly, what knowledge

the social sciences have accumulated has been used little, or not at

all, by neighborhood workers.

_The trend of neighborhood work to a scientific basis._—But if

neighborhood work has not had a scientific basis, it has had, from its

inception, as one of its conscious or unconscious motives, the search

after knowledge as the basis of human relations. Settlement work,

especially, represents not only the most devoted and the most

idealistic, but also the most intelligent, phase of social work of the

past generation. The settlement in its origin was an extension of the

university. It carried over into a new environment the love of truth

and, it may be added, the spirit of science. The residents of the

settlement were brought at once into touch with social reality; that is,

with the concrete facts of human life.

This early venture into intimate contact with social reality may

accordingly be called the first stage in the trend of neighborhood work

toward a scientific basis. But settlement workers soon found that

sympathetic understanding and intimate contacts failed to solve many of

the actual problems of neighborhood work. The recalcitrancy of the boys’

gang, the opposition and manipulations of the ward boss, the competition

of commercialized recreation, the unsolvable cultural conflict between

immigrant parents and Americanized children are only a few of the many

perplexing conditions of neighborhood life in immigrant areas which

resisted the spirit of good will of settlement workers. They therefore

began to study their communities in the attempt to state the factors at

work by an analysis of the elements in the situation. _Hull House Maps

and Papers_, _The City Wilderness_, and _Americans in Process_ are

illustrations of the careful study and keen observation of these very

early efforts to determine and to take account of the many and different

conditions affecting neighborhood work. This interest in the discovery

of factors in the social situation may therefore be called the second

stage in the trend of neighborhood work toward a scientific basis.

Science, however, is concerned not with factors, but with forces. The

distinction is not always clearly drawn between a factor and a force.

“Factors are the elements that co-operate to make a given situation.

Forces are type-factors operative in typical situations.”[69] A factor

is thought of as a concrete cause for an individual event; a force is

conceived to be an abstract cause for events in general so far as they

are similar. A particular gang of boys, the Torpedo gang, of which Tony

is the leader—and which is made up of eight street Arabs—is a factor in

the situation which a certain settlement in an Italian colony in Chicago

faces. But as soon as the attention shifts from this one gang and this

particular settlement to settlements in general and to gangs in general

the transition is made from a factor to a force. A gang is a factor to a

given settlement; the gang is a force from the standpoint of all

settlements.

_The study of social forces in the community._—If neighborhood work can

have a scientific basis, it is because there are social forces in

community life—forces like geographical conditions, human wishes,

community consciousness—that can be studied, described, analyzed, and

ultimately measured. In a series of research projects now in progress in

the Department of Sociology in the University of Chicago, studies are

being made of the social forces of community life. While the city of

Chicago is used as the laboratory for this investigation, it is assumed

that the processes of urban life in one community are in certain ways

typical of city life throughout the United States.

The term “community” is widely used by sociologists, neighborhood

workers, and others, but often with widely divergent meanings. In

research in any field it is necessary to define our concepts and to make

relevant distinctions. In the literature of the subject there is a

growing disposition to emphasize as one of the fundamental aspects of

the community its geographical setting. Whatever else the community may

be, it signifies individuals, families, groups, or institutions located

upon an area and some or all of the relationships which grow out of this

common location. “‘Community’ is the term which is applied to societies

and social groups where they are considered from the point of view of

the geographical distribution of the individuals and institutions of

which they are composed.”[70]

Upon reflection it is evident that markedly different social

relationships may have their roots in the conditions of a common

territorial location. Indeed, it is just these outstanding differences

in communal activities, viewed in relation to their geographic

background, which have caused much of the confusion in the use of the

term “community.” For community life, as conditioned by the distribution

of individuals and institutions over an area, has at least three quite

different aspects.

First of all, there is the community viewed almost exclusively in terms

of location and movement. How far has the area itself, by its very

topography and by all its other external and physical characteristics,

as railroads, parks, types of housing, conditioned community formation

and exerted a determining influence upon the distribution of its

inhabitants and upon their movements and life? To what extent has it had

a selective effect in sifting and sorting families over the area by

occupation, nationality, and economic or social class? To what extent is

the work of neighborhood or community institutions promoted or impeded

by favorable or unfavorable location? How far do geographical distances

within or without the community symbolize social distances? This

apparently “natural” organization of the human community, so similar in

the formation of plant and animal communities, may be called the

“ecological community.”

No comprehensive study of the human community from this standpoint has

yet been made. A prospectus for such a study is outlined in an earlier

chapter by Professor R. D. McKenzie, in this volume, under the title,

“The Ecological Approach to the Study of the Human Community.”[71] Yet

there are several systematic treatises and a rapidly growing literature

of scientific research in the two analogous fields of plant ecology and

animal ecology. The processes of competition, invasion, succession, and

segregation described in elaborate detail for plant and animal

communities seem to be strikingly similar to the operation of these same

processes in the human community. The assertion might even be defended

that the student of community life or the community organization worker

might secure at present a more adequate understanding of the basic

factors in the natural organization of the community from Warming’s

_Oecology of Plants_ or from Adams’s _Guide to the Study of Animal

Ecology_ than from any other source.

In the second place, the community may be conceived in terms of the

effects of communal life in a given area upon the formation or the

maintenance of a local culture. Local culture includes those sentiments,

forms of conduct, attachments, and ceremonies which are characteristic

of a locality, which have either originated in the area or have become

identified with it. This aspect of local life may be called “the

cultural community.” This relationship of cultural patterns to

territorial areas has not yet been adequately studied unless in the

phenomena of language. What, for example, are studies in dialect but one

illustration of how local areas with their entailed isolation

differentially affect customs of speech? Concrete materials for a wider

study of culture in relation to location are increasing, notably upon

preliterate peoples and upon retarded groups geographically isolated, as

the southern mountaineers or the remote inhabitants of Pitcairn Island.

The immigrant colony in an American city possesses a culture

unmistakably not indigenous but transplanted from the Old World. The

telling fact, however, is not that the immigrant colony maintains its

old-world cultural organization, but that in its new environment it

mediates a cultural adjustment to its new situation. How basically

culture is dependent upon place is suggested by the following

expressions, “New England conscience,” “southern hospitality,” “Scottish

thrift,” “Kansas is not a geographical location so much as a state of

mind.” Neighborhood institutions like the church, the school, and the

settlement are essentially cultural institutions, and recognition of

this fact has far-reaching implications for the policies and programs of

these local centers.

There remains a third standpoint from which the relation of a local area

to group life may be stated. In what ways and to what extent does the

fact of common residence in a locality compel or invite its inhabitants

to act together? Is there, or may there be developed upon a geographical

basis, a community consciousness? Does contiguity by residence insure or

predispose to co-operation in at least those conditions of life inherent

in geographic location, as transportation, water supply, playgrounds,

etc.? Finally, what degree of social and political action can be secured

on the basis of local areas? This is the community of the community

organization worker and of the politician, and may be described as “the

political community.” It is upon this concept of the community as a

local area that American political organization has been founded.

These three definitions of the community are not perhaps altogether

mutually exclusive. They do, however, represent three distinctly

different aspects of community life that will have to be recognized in

any basic study of the community and of community organization. A given

local area, like Hyde Park in Chicago, may at the same time constitute

an ecological, cultural, and political community, while another area

like the lower North Side in the same city, which forms a distinct

ecological unit, falls apart into several cultural communities and

cannot, at any rate from the standpoint of a common and effective public

opinion, be said to constitute a going political community. The Black

Belt in Chicago comprises one cultural community but overflows several

ecological areas and has no means of common political action except

through ward lines arbitrarily drawn.

It follows that the boundaries of local areas determined ecologically,

culturally, and politically seldom, if ever, exactly coincide. In fact,

for American cities it is generally true that political boundaries are

drawn most arbitrarily, without regard either to ecological or cultural

lines, as is notoriously the case in the familiar instance of the

gerrymander. Therefore it is fair to raise the question: How far are the

deficiencies in political action through our governmental bodies and

welfare action through our social agencies the result of the failure to

base administrative districts upon ecological or cultural

communities?[72]

This analysis of the community into its threefold aspects suggests that

the study of social forces in a local area should assume that the

neighborhood or the community is the resultant of three main types of

determining influences: first, ecological forces; second, cultural

forces; and third, political forces.

_Ecological forces._—The ecological forces are those which have to do

with the process of competition and the consequent distribution and

segregation by residence and occupation. Through competition and the

factors which affect it, as trade centers, etc., every neighborhood in

the city becomes a component and integral part of the larger community,

with a destiny bound up by its relation to it. In the study of the

growth of the city it is found that the life of any neighborhood is

determined, in the long run, not altogether by the forces within itself,

but even more by the total course of city life. To think of the

neighborhood or the community in isolation from the city is to disregard

the biggest fact about the neighborhood.

Studies of urban growth reveal that the city grows outward from its

central business district (1) in a series of expanding zones.[73] There

is a “zone of transition” (2) encircling the downtown area. This is the

area of deterioration, the so-called “slum”, created in large part by

the invasion of business and light manufacture. A third area (3) is

inhabited by workers in industry who have escaped from the area of

deterioration (2) and who desire to live within easy access of their

work. Beyond this zone is the “residential area” (4) of high-class

apartment buildings or of exclusive “restricted” districts of single

family dwellings. Still farther, out beyond the city limits, is the

“commuters’ zone” (5) of suburban areas or satellite cities within a

sixty-minute ride of the central business district.

Within these zones of urban growth are to be found local districts or

communities, and these in turn subdivide into smaller areas called

neighborhoods. In the long run, geographical factors and the process of

competition fix the boundaries and the centers of these areas. It is

important that neighborhood work be in accordance with, rather than in

opposition to, these silent but continuous influences. A map of local

communities was prepared to show the way in which rivers, railroads,

large industrial establishments, parks, and boulevards divide the city

into its constituent local communities—residential and industrial.

The centers of local communities are to be found at the point of highest

land value in the intersection of two business streets. These local

community centers are also characterized by the concentration of retail

business, of banks, of restaurants, and of the large and magnificent

palaces of amusement, like motion picture houses and public dance halls.

If high land values indicate the center of the community, the lowest

land values generally define its periphera.

[Illustration:

CHART I

SCHEMATIC REPRESENTATION OF THE DIVISION OF A COMMUNITY INTO

NEIGHBORHOODS BY THE INTERSECTION OF TWO BUSINESS STREETS.

]

But if the intersection of two business streets determines the trade

center, these same streets divide it into neighborhoods. In Chart I on

this page is offered a schematic representation of a Chicago local

community, Woodlawn, with its economic center at the intersection of the

two main business streets of Sixty-Third Street and Cottage Grove

Avenue. At this intersection land values are five thousand dollars a

front foot. Woodlawn falls into four neighborhoods, A, B, C, and D,

divided from each other by these same intersecting business streets. It

is interesting that each of these neighborhoods has its own public

school. Even more significant is the fact that an attempt to unite two

struggling churches of the same denomination in two of these

neighborhoods into one strong church failed because neither would

surrender its location.

It seems almost axiomatic to state that community and neighborhood work

must take into account the operation of these silent but continuous

ecological forces and work with them rather than against them. Yet how

often are social centers located on the edge, rather than at the center,

of a neighborhood. In the location of a neighborhood center the

consequences which flow from the play of ecological forces must be

heeded, because they condition the development of its work and the

radius of its influence.

_Cultural forces._—Ecological or economic forces are naturally basic to

the play of cultural forces. Culture, as the social heritage of the

group, implies both a locality to which it is indigenous and a constant,

rather than a changing, social situation. Chicago, like other large

cities, has its cultural communities, each of which has, if not a local

area, at least a local center. Hobohemia, Bohemia, Philistia, the

Ghetto, and the Gold Coast are cultural communities.

Movement in the person, as from one social location to another, or any

sudden change as caused by an invention, carries with it the possibility

or the probability of cultural decadence. The cultural controls over

conduct disintegrate; impulses and wishes take random and wild

expression. The result is immorality and delinquency; in short, personal

and social disorganization. An illustration of cultural decadence as a

result of movement is the excessively high rate of juvenile delinquency

among the children of immigrant parents. To what extent have

neighborhood workers gauged the effect of the daily newspaper, the

motion picture, the automobile, and the radio, in releasing the child,

the youth, and the adult from the confines of the neighborhood and of

bringing them into contact with the city-wide, nation-wide, and

world-wide life of our time?

These changes taking place in community life may be observed in a

dramatic form in commercialized recreation. The day of the neighborhood

public dance hall and the neighborhood motion picture show has passed,

or at least is passing. Young people are deserting the neighborhood

recreation centers and are thronging to centers outside the local

community, to the high-class, magnificent dance gardens and palaces, and

to the so-called “wonder” theaters of the “bright light” areas.

A realignment of the leisure-time movements of urban young people is

taking place, which every agency engaged in neighborhood work must take

into account. Is the neighborhood as a factor in the lives of youth soon

to become a situation of the past? Can settlements and social centers

expect to hold back the tide of the forces of city life?

A map of the residences of dance hall patrons which shows both the

disappearance of the small public dance hall from the neighborhood and

the concentration of large dance halls in “bright light” areas is all

the more significant because it portrays the phenomenon of promiscuity.

By promiscuity is meant primary and intimate behavior upon the basis of

secondary contacts. In the village type of neighborhood, where everyone

knows everyone else, the social relationships of the young people were

safeguarded by the primary controls of group opinion. But in the public

dance hall, where young people are drawn from all parts of the city,

this old primary control breaks down. Is not this the basic reason why

social workers find the dance hall so recurring a factor in personal

disorganization and delinquency? As yet, however, we have no

satisfactory study of the dance hall as a social world of youth. Two new

social types—the “sheik” and the “flapper”—have been created by the

dance hall and the motion picture, but they are regarded as subjects for

jest rather than for serious study.

[Illustration:

FORM 1.—The Neighborhood Triangle.

]

A study by Miss Evelyn Buchan of girl delinquency shows the effect of

the increasing mobility and promiscuity of city life upon the behavior

of youth, and suggests an interesting method of study. To bring into

clearer relief the rôle of mobility and promiscuity as factors in

behavior, a device called “the delinquency triangle” was employed. The

three points of the triangle were located by spotting the home of the

girl, the home of her male companion, and the place of delinquency.

Three typical forms of the triangle soon appeared.

Form 1 represents the traditional form of sex delinquency, where all

three points of the triangle are within the community. This may be

called the “neighborhood triangle.” In this case the intimacy of the boy

and girl might be little more than the continuance in this country of

old-world folkways, but without the protection for the girl in

subsequent marriage which the European peasant mores afford.

[Illustration:

FORM 2.—The Mobility Triangle.

]

Form 2, which is “the mobility triangle,” stands for delinquency of the

type related to increased freedom of movement, where two points of the

triangle or its base, formed by the homes of the girl and the boy, lie

within the same community, but where its apex, or the place of

delinquency, is situated outside. In this case the bright-light area

becomes a place of freedom from the narrower, distant controls of the

home and the neighborhood.

[Illustration:

FORM 3.—The Promiscuity Triangle.

]

In form 3, delinquency is of the type of promiscuity, because here all

the points of the triangle lie in different communities. The intimacy

developing from the casual acquaintance of the metal worker from the

steel mills with the girl from the West Side whom he “picked up” at an

amusement park may be so transient that neither knows the family name or

the address of the other.

The total effect of forces of city life, like mobility and promiscuity,

upon the neighborhood and upon our traditional culture seems to be

subversive and disorganizing. Particularly is this true of deteriorating

areas, where neighborhood work originated, and where it is still, in any

completely developed state, for the most part confined. A series of maps

has been prepared which shows graphically what, of course, is known to

social students—that the zone of deterioration and the areas of the

greatest mobility in the city have the greatest concentration of

poverty, vice, crime, juvenile delinquency, divorce, desertion,

abandoned infants, murder, and suicide.

_Political forces._—The political forces have to do with the more formal

control of public opinion and law. Neighborhood work is concerned with

political forces whenever social action is desired. Our whole scheme of

social work may be regarded, from this standpoint at least, as social

politics. But has the social worker, who is the social politician, the

same intimate knowledge of his neighborhood that the professional

politician possesses? A minimum of information which he needs is a card

catalogue of, plus some direct contact with, all the local dynamic

personalities, including gang leaders, pool hall proprietors, leaders of

all the neighborhood organizations, and of all professional persons,

like representatives of social agencies, physicians, lawyers, clergymen,

at work in his locality. More than that, he needs to know the basic

interests, the driving wishes, and the vital problems of the men and

women, the youth and the children, living in the community.

The knowledge of these forces in neighborhood life will suggest feasible

projects and programs. Too often, however, attempts at social control

rise from ignorant good will rather than from the facts of the

situation. This is particularly true of the many futile efforts to

impose neighborly relationships upon areas which are no longer

neighborhoods.

What, then, is our answer to the question, Can neighborhood work have a

scientific basis? It can have a scientific foundation if it will base

its activities upon a study of social forces. But the social forces of

city life seem, from our studies, to be destroying the city

neighborhood. Is the neighborhood center to engage in a losing fight

against the underlying tendencies of modern urban society? This question

should be squarely faced: Is neighborhood work prepared to base its

justification for existence upon facts rather than upon sentiment?

There are those who are convinced that the function of the neighborhood

center is passing with the decay of the neighborhood in the city. For

myself, I am not so certain. Surely the work of the neighborhood center

must now be conceived and planned in terms of its relationship to the

entire life of the city. The work of neighborhood centers, like that of

all other social agencies, must increasingly be placed upon the basis of

the scientific study of the social forces with which they have to deal.

Especially are studies desired of the actual effect and rôle of intimate

contacts in personal development and social control.

A feasible way for neighborhood centers to place their work upon a

scientific basis would be to stress the impulse to research that has

always been associated with the settlement movement. Thirty years ago

Mr. Robert A. Woods read a paper on “University Settlements as

Laboratories in Social Science.” The argument for research in its

relations to neighborhood work is contained in that article. He

conceived the advantage of research both to social science and to the

settlement. The growing fluidity and complexity of urban life has but

increased the force of his argument.

Neighborhood work, by the logic of the situation, if it is to evolve a

successful technique, will be compelled more and more to depend upon

research into the social forces of modern life.

ERNEST W. BURGESS

The city · 第 8 / 11 章