Trying New Things: Sociology and Social Challenges

By Karen Sternheimer

I have been encouraging a family member who recently experienced the death of a partner to try some new social activities—not necessarily to “meet someone,” but to find new interests and stay busy in the face of grief. This of course, isn’t easy to do, and a somewhat mundane experience—swimming in a different pool than I am accustomed to swimming at—highlighted how sociology can help us understand why trying new things can be so difficult.

As I wrote about a few years ago, I have been fortunate to live in a community with a lap pool where I have been swimming for over a decade. I am considered a “regular” by the staff, and I know most of the other “regulars” enough to say hi or even chat with them about vacations, family, and whatever else is happening. I know when I get there that I can leave my things on a table, and they are safe (and in sight). I know that swimmers shower before and after but must leave bathing suits on since the showers are outside and without doors. Then swimmers typically take their things in the bathroom to get dressed, although some people will take off their bathing suit under a towel.

When I get in the pool, I choose whatever lane is open to swim in, and it is “my” lane unless the other lanes fill up and another lap swimmer arrives. It is polite to ask to join someone in a lane first, and most of the time if it is necessary to share another “regular” invites me to share with them or lets me know as soon as I arrive when they will be leaving. I have also learned when the busy times are and to come after morning “rush hour” but before lots of other people show up, especially those with loud kids. Most of the time, though, I can expect a relatively quiet, peaceful swim where I can focus on relaxing and enjoying the water.

For the next two months, the pool is closed for major maintenance, so I visited an indoor municipal pool about 10 miles away. I found myself somewhat nervous about not knowing what to expect. The rules were on the pool’s website, but what were the unwritten rules? How do people typically interact there? When were the best times to swim when it would be the least crowded?

Sociologists call this the “definition of the situation,” which guides our behavior within a particular social setting. Since the definition of the situation is rooted in social interaction, it can be fluid and changing, but is connected to norms and previous experiences with others, and how they construct meaning of the experiences.

I felt somewhat lost, and yes, even scared entering this facility for the first time. I was sure to wear flip flops, something considered unnecessary at our community pool. I needed a lock to leave my things, although there was a locker room attendant who could hold valuables if requested. Was a tip expected if you left something with them? I couldn’t tell.

My first “culture shock” happened as I went to shower off before entering the pool: there was nudity. In our community pool, people change clothes in bathroom stalls and as noted above, and shower only with bathing suits on. I probably could have guessed that this would be the case, but I haven’t been in a setting like this before. Culture shocks don’t have to be just about visiting foreign countries, but can happen right at home.

My next challenge was figuring out which lane to get in to swim. They were marked “slow,” “medium,” and “fast,” but these are relative terms. How fast are the fast people? How slow are the slow people? I can be super-slow depending on what stroke I am swimming, but somewhat fast if I happen to be wearing fins, which I brought with me that day. Do I need to change lanes if I change strokes or put on the fins and swim much faster?

I entered the closest lane to the locker room, which was also the slow lane with the stairwell. There were two other people swimming in the lane. Were they swimming in a circle—in other words, keep left in one direction and keep right in the other? It appeared that one person was going back and forth in the spot nearest the lane line, and the other was doing backstroke sort of all over the place. I did my best to fit in, keeping my head above water for the first 20 minutes just to try and figure out what was going on and stay out of other people’s way. Was the backstroker violating a rule? How were others defining the situation?

I noticed a sign that said: “lane sharing etiquette” and tried to read it as I swam. But how well did people adhere to the rules? Before too long, the two people in my lane got out, and several more people came in. Did they need to swim around me, the person who was there first, or was I violating some norm about lane sharing that I wasn’t familiar with?

This got even more complicated when a few people got in to walk rather than swim in the slow lane, which happened to be in the shallow end. I tried to get a sense of how fast the other “slow” lanes were and if I should change lanes. But instead, I got out and got ready to leave, showering with my bathing suit on even though people might have thought that was strange. I knew it was over 100 degrees outside, so I put on shorts over my bathing suit and left without changing.

Going to a new pool is a low-stakes social experience: you aren’t really expected to talk to anyone while swimming, and there really aren’t serious consequences for small rule violations. I still am not completely sure about the norms and unwritten rules in this setting, or if I made any mistakes that irked other swimmers.

But small experiences can draw attention to why we often stick with activities and people with whom we are familiar, and how difficult it can be socially to venture out when we aren’t sure of how others define the situation, or what the norms might be in a new setting. Starting at a new school and getting a new job are just a few examples of experiences that can be challenging socially. What other examples can you think of?