In 1997, New Line Cinema released the romantic drama Love Jones. The film was about two young professionals, their friends, and their lives in Chicago: Nia Long starred as Nina Mosley, a talented photographer, and Larenz Tate as Darius Lovehall, a newly-emerging poet. The writer/director (Theodore Witcher) wanted to “tell a love story . . . [t]here is a political agenda as well – to present young African American characters on screen that weren’t involved in some kind of social pathology.”
Sociologist Kris Marsh describes these characters as “young, educated Black professionals who have never been married, are child-free, and live alone or with unmarried non-romantic friends.” (P. 1.) The movie, Marsh observes, presented a “new face” for those who are Black and middle class (P. 7.), one that exists outside of the nuclear family paradigm. The movie title provides the demographic term for the group that Marsh studies in The Love Jones Cohort. They are Black, middle class, and SALA (single and living alone). While Marsh notes that “SALA” describes a type of household that is not limited to those in the middle class, and the Black middle class includes other family formations, the Love Jones Cohort brings the two concepts together. (P. 8.)
One challenge in situating this group is to define the characteristics of the Black middle class more broadly. In earlier research, Marsh had created a “Black Middle Class Index” that included education, income, home ownership, and occupation. (Pp. 9, 24-26, App. B.) In the book, Marsh explores the difficulty with defining the middle class, the complexities of using objective criteria, such as education, or subjective criteria, such as those associated with status, like church or social group membership. (Pp. 19-24.)
The Black Middle Class cohort, according to Marsh’s careful description, includes marital and nonmarital couples, as well as single people, and it grew from 6% of all Black households in 1980 to almost 14% in 2010. (P. 27.) Within that cohort, a declining percentage conform to the traditional nuclear family model of married parents with children. An increasing percentage – 13% in 2010 – belong to the Love Jones Cohort. (P. 10.)
Just after the Preface, Marsh introduces us to the 62 members of the Love Jones Cohort whom she interviewed. Their stories are at the core of the book and become interwoven with the rich sociological and demographic analysis in the book’s ten chapters. The Cohort included 43 women and 19 men; one caveat that Marsh makes is that only one identified as belonging to the LGBTQIA+ community. (Pp. 1, 13.) The gender imbalance in participants is reflected in the Love Jones Cohort itself, with women making up more than two-thirds of such households. (Pp. 10-11.) Marsh is attentive to gender differences in experiences.
The book is informed by four goals. First, Marsh wants more attention to, and integration of, the Love Jones Cohort in the policy, scholarship, business, and community spheres. Second, Marsh seeks to highlight the role of “structural racism . . . in individual dating and marriage outcomes.” Third, Marsh suggests that the research in the book might prompt people to rethink how, when, and why they ask the why aren’t you married question and potentially turn it around so it becomes why are you married. Finally, Marsh is trying to show that the Love Jones Cohort is a distinctive group within the demography of families that are Black and middle class. (P. 15.) Throughout, as she has noted in other work, she explores how the experiences of those in the Love Jones cohort are “informed by interlocking systems of oppression.” Thus, for example, in the book, Marsh points out how home-buying is affected by the “structural racism when it comes to acquiring assets” as well as discrimination based on singlehood status. (Pp. 117, 125-126.)
The ten chapters range from an exploration of the complicated definitions of the Black middle class to extensive discussion of the racial wealth gap and intergenerational mobility to analysis of residential choices to the development of coping mechanisms, such as the support received from family members and friendship groups. (P. 161.)
Marsh challenges stereotypes about single people as well, such as being reluctantly unpartnered. Instead, many of the study participants– two-thirds – were single by choice, and, while that characterization did not differ by gender, it did differ by age; those age 40 and above were far more likely to report being single by choice (85%) compared to those under the age of 40 (55%). (P. 74) Some of the positive aspects of singlehood included “’freedom’” and “’own space and life,’” while some of the negatives were “’lonely’” and “’disappointed/sad.’” (P. 94.)
Marsh is careful to note that their “choice” was shaped by social forces, including systemic inequalities. (P. 82.) Many of her subjects were both single by choice and also aware, to some degree, of how circumstances affected their life choices about partnering and children. In other words, some members of the Cohort expressed ambivalence: singlehood was not always a first choice, but rather an adaptive one, and some participants, at least, seemed open-minded about partnering off in the future. Marsh acknowledges the complexities of defining subjects who might actually be in a state of transition. Indeed, Marsh observes that participants’ speculation “about finding a long-term partner and so leaving the Love Jones Cohort challenges one of [her] research’s assumptions that [the proportion of] SALAs will” continue to increase. (P. 81.) Yet her forthright acknowledgment of the transitory nature of intimate partnerships helps to bolster the conclusion that the Love Jones Cohort deserves recognition even if some individuals happen to move out of the SALA category.
As a framing mechanism for family law scholars, The Love Jones Cohort challenges conventional notions of family. In discussing the various economic and social advantages that families receive, such as tax or health insurance benefits, Marsh suggests that SALAs should be considered to be a “family of one” and receive the same benefits as other family forms. (Pp. 166, 167.) At the same time, Marsh points out, that does not mean that SALAs are isolated or that they don’t receive support from family members and friends. (Pp. 86-87.) Friends play, Marsh finds, “starring roles in [participants’] lifestyles and emotional well-being.” (P. 86.) In recognition of these relationships, Marsh also calls for “institutionaliz[ing] augmented families,” facilitating the creation of “family units with friends” through the law – which she dubs “The SALA Family Plan.” (P. 167.)
Finally, in accord with Marsh’s four goals, the book provides transformative insights for the developing field of Singlehood Studies. That field has, like the Love Jones Cohort itself, been growing both within and outside of the law, but that movement, Marsh observes, “seems oriented toward a white gaze. This book represents an attempt to center on the voices of both Black men and women in singlehood and single studies research.” (P. 16.)
