A New Disability History

I have four books on disability that I am currently reading through. I had to order these books -- all of them -- through interlibrary loan because neither of the two public libraries nearest me had ANY of them. I think I will have to talk to their acquisitions person about not only not having these particular books but NO disability books at all. NONE!

The book I'm currently reading is a collection of essays called A New Disability History edited by Paul K. Longmore and Lauri Umansky. I've been keeping track of passages that catch my attention for various reasons. Here are ones I've recorded so far:


"The elision of disabled people from the historiography also surely reflects the 'existential anxiety' that disability often evokes. A considerable literature in psychology verifies that the presence of individuals with disabilities stirs dis-ease in many individuals who view themselves as normal. A more recent literature in cultural studies of disability strongly suggests that those nervous reactions stem from more than individual temperament. To a significant degree, they arise from the most basic of modern, and particularly American, cultural values and social training. Americans often perceive disability – and therefore people with disabilities – as embodying that which Americans fear most: loss of independence, of autonomy, of control; in other words, subjection to fate. The culturally conditioned psychological response to disability may help explain disabled peoples’ [sic] absence from historical accounts. That which we fear, we shun.” [Longmore, PK and Umansky, L. 2001. Introduction. Pp. 1-29 in Longmore, PK and Umansky, L. (editors), The New Disability History – American Perspectives. New York University Press, New York. Quote pp. 6-7]

"The natural and the normal both are ways of establishing the universal, unquestionable good and right. Both are also ways of establishing social hierarchies that justify the denial of legitimacy and certain rights to individuals or groups." [Baynton, DC. 2001. Disability and justification of inequality in American history. Pp. 33-57 in Longmore, PK and Umansky, L. (editors), The New Disability History – American Perspectives. New York University Press, New York. Quote pp. 35]

"Just as the counterpart to the natural was the monstrous, so the opposite of the normal person was the defective. Although normality ostensibly denoted the average, the usual, and the ordinary, in actual usage it functioned as an ideal and excluded only those defined as below average. 'Is the child normal?' was never a question that expressed fear about whether a child had above-average intelligence, motor skills, or beauty. Abnormal signified the subnormal." [Baynton, DC. 2001. Disability and justification of inequality in American history. Pp. 33-57 in Longmore, PK and Umansky, L. (editors), The New Disability History – American Perspectives. New York University Press, New York. Quote pp. 36]


Feel free to discuss any of these as you like. I will post more as I gather them

Quotes

"To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never, to forget."
— Arundhati Roy


"The secret of the Great Stories is that they have no secrets. The Great Stories are the ones you have heard and want to hear again. The ones you can enter anywhere and inhabit comfortably. They don’t deceive you with thrills and trick endings. They don’t surprise you with the unforeseen. They are as familiar as the house you live in. Or the smell of your lover’s skin. You know how they end, yet you listen as though you don’t. In the way that although you know that one day you will die, you live as though you won’t. In the Great Stories you know who lives, who dies, who finds love, who doesn’t. And yet you want to know again. THAT is their mystery and magic."
— Arundhati Roy (The God of Small Things)

Looking ahead

A lot of people use this time of year to reflect on the year that has passed and try to divine what will come in the year ahead. Unless something truly crappy or truly outstanding happened, I rarely remember too much of what happened the previous year. The minutiae get all balled up until I cannot tease them loose from each other. I do not make up lists of praises and lists of rants and post them on tha Interwebz because they have meaning only to me, and I don't want to get into some heated discussion with someone who takes offense to this like or that dislike. I don't make huge, life-changing resolutions because something always happens to prevent their completion.

Every new year, what I promise to do are "little" things. I hold my head up and smile at strangers as we pass on the sidewalk or in the grocery store, even if they look at me like I sprouted a third eyeball in the middle of my forehead. I say thank you when someone helps me with something, even if s/he does it for me every day and knows I appreciate it, because very few people show gratitude for the little things. I try to do the best research I can. I explore my personal spirituality and endeavor to remain patient with those of a more rigid mindset. I make attempts at creativity in a variety of forms such as writing fiction, making soap, making mosaics, or cross-stitching. Soon I'm going to attempt to make my own portable medicine wheel. I try to read widely. I try to read something or someone previously unknown to me. I try to read as often as I can. Following the example of a friend, I will endeavor to keep a list of everything I read in 2010 -- both books for fun and research materials (the latter for my own edification) -- and I will attempt to write mini-reviews of the books in the interest of those who might want to also read something I've read.

So, in that vein, I am off to drink some tea (green tea with jasmine and passionfruit) in an attempt to soothe my sore throat, then I shall return to the further adventures of Sherlock Holmes.

I hope your year is everything you want it to be.

Thank you for being my friend and helping me grow.

And that's that

I just finished making my four slide Powerpoint presentation for statistics. After I do the five minute presentation on Tuesday, I will be mostly done for the semester. Both of my girls (undergrad assisants) who helped me this semester with all the physical stuff I am unable to do have asked to continue as my minions next semester, and that is a HUGE relief to me. They are both intelligent, driven, and extremely well self-directed, so I know my fishies will be safe next semester while I'm gone. We're going to practice photographing fins this week so they know EXACTLY how I want it done, then at the beginning of next semester they will photograph all the fins and send me the pictures to play with.

On the preparing to go home front, I went through all of my clothes at the beginning of the month and donated a bunch of stuff to the athletic department's clothing drive for a local mission. Over the last two nights, Tracie has helped me go through the closet by my bed, and I've gotten rid of about half the stuff I had stored in there. I still need to go through the kitchen closet (candles, incense, herbs, winter outerwear) and the big dresser (a junk drawer, a Reba drawer, and a linen drawer). Then the BOOKS. That's going to be crazy, my friends. I'm predicting one box of clothes and at least three of books. Think I'm joking? Ask Anita, Jonikka, or my parents about the clothing-to-book box ratio when I moved out of my Wichita apartment to move here. Tuesday is "talk with your advisor" day, Wednesday will find Moby getting two new shoes and an oil change, and Mom flies in Thursday afternoon. We have tentative plans to go eat with two of my friends and go have dinner made for us at other friends' house at some point over the weekend. Also over the weekend, we'll be hauling some of my stuff (bookshelf, table, TV, DVD player, dishes, small kitchen appliances) to Tracie's house in NO East for storage until I come back. Mom and I plan to leave on Monday, to arrive home on Tuesday.

OK, so I'm going to go try to read Twilight now. I promised a friend almost a year ago that I'd read it, and I still haven't gotten up the nerve. Let's face it, the descriptions of plot I've heard have nearly made my brain cramp. I'll try to keep an open mind, but at the first sign of nausea or neuron suicidal behavior, I'm done. There are too many books in the world to waste time on sparkly, emo vamps. Wait -- open mind, open mind.

What is this "relax" of which you speak?

The Ford Foundation Diversity Fellowship was submitted on 7 Nov. -- two days ahead of schedule.

The poster for the SETAC meeting was emailed to Kinko's on 18 Nov. and finished on 19 Nov. -- it is bright, shiny, all KINDS of sexy in its 40" x 56" glory, and ready to be shown off on Sunday. Can't wait to see the looks on the faces of all those stuffed suits when they realize the chick in the power wheelchair with the dog is the primary author.

The NSF DDIG grant was submitted today -- a whopping hour and a half ahead of the deadline.

All I have left to do school-wise before moving home is make a 5-minute PowerPoint describing some of my data and what statistical methods I used to analyze them, with my presentation being given on 1 Dec. -- maybe I'll get around to it on Monday.

Tomorrow is dedicated to reading a big chunk of The Sweet Far Thing, playing games at MSN Games, a possible nap in my chair, and maybe "Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End" on USA.

Relaxing. Let's see if I remember what that is.

Yeah yeah yeah

I know it's been a bit since I blogged, but after I get home this weekend, I'll try to take time to catch you up on the last ten weeks or so. I've just been quite busy despite depression and health issues.

So, I'll be in KS in time for supper on Saturday, and I will be around until July 29. There are pals I'm hoping to see, and you know who you are (especially you four -- Mouse, Psi, 'wela, Lachlan -- who I have not seen since P's funeral). So much to do this trip:

-- get my stupid blood under control

-- finish one manuscript, start two others

-- hang out with my peeps and hug 'em all (especially the 6-month-old nephew) 'til their eyes bug out

-- read a s*** ton of research articles

-- see HP and the Half-Blood Prince

-- get some things fixed on my chair

-- fun, novel-type reading

-- maybe talk Rolando into going to the zoo, especially the one near my house

-- do my yearlies with the cardiologist, the neurologist, the pulmonologist, and the urologist

For now, more library research. 'Night!