Showing posts with label England. Show all posts
Showing posts with label England. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

January 17: John Stanley (1712-1786)

[visual description: a portrait of composer John Stanley, apparently in middle age, wearing a white powdered wig and a brass-buttoned coat; his eyes are noticeably scarred]

Born on this date 300 years ago today, in London, English composer John Stanley (best click that link before or after Wikipedia goes dark on 18 January). Stanley was blind after a fall in early childhood. The boy turned out to be a musical prodigy while studying with the organist at St. Paul's Cathedral, and, at age 11, was appointed organist at All Hallows Church in Bread Street, a paid position. At fourteen he became organist at St. Andrews in Holborn, and at age 17 he completed a Bachelor of Music degree at Oxford.

Stanley married his copyist's sister, Sarah, a sea captain's daughter. He spent most of his career as organist to the Society of the Inner Temple. Handel was a frequent visitor to the church, to hear Stanley play. The admiration was returned: Stanley directed many Handel oratorios. Stanley's own baroque compositions were many and varied, from an opera to three volumes of organ music. (There are audio files of several Stanley compositions for organ at this site.) He was also elected governor of a Foundling Hospital, which mostly involved his advising the staff on hiring music teachers, and organizing fund-raising concerts.

Stanley's auditory memory and sensitivity were much remarked upon: it was reported that he never forgot a voice, and that he could judge the size of a room by sound. He also, apparently, had an adapted set of playing cards, with tactile markings at the corners, so that he could play whist with guests. Unfortunately for historians of such things, his family auctioned off all his possessions within weeks after he died, including his manuscripts and instruments.

Here's a YouTube video (which is really only a still image of an album cover) of John Stanley's Allegro (V) from Concerto op.2 no.1 in D Major:


I haven't discovered if there are any events marking his 300th birthday, but now we've marked it at DS,TU, anyway. And this early music editor blogger plans to produce some editions of Stanley's concertos this year.

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE!

In comments, Sue Schweik added the very exciting news that a UC-Berkeley musicology student, John Prescott, recently completed a dissertation about John Stanley.

Thursday, September 01, 2011

September 1: Phyllis Wallbank (b. 1918)

Born on this date in 1918, English educator Phyllis Wallbank. She worked with displaced children as a young woman in wartime London, and knew she wanted to find a way to make that her profession; a chance to hear Maria Montessori speak became the means to that end. Wallbank is one of the UK's best-known proponents of the Montessori method. In 1948 she opened Gatehouse School on the grounds of a church, and a major feature of the program was the inclusion of disabled children, at a time when few educational opportunities were available. Said Phyllis Wallbank (source):
"We incorporated mentally and physically challenged children at a time when they were normally segregated. We had groups of eight called 'families', each incorporating one disabled child. The child adapted to normality instead of to an institution. We eventually had all kinds of challenged children: children suffering from blindness, autism, maladjustment, thalidomide, Downs syndrome, cerebral palsy, brain damage and epilepsy. We had a social mix too: many children from professional families, some taking Common Entrance and public school scholarships and some local East Enders with parents known to have serious criminal backgrounds. And yet it all worked! Children were assisted and looked after by their friends and became an integral part of their "family". Often parents had no idea that a fellow student who came up in conversation at home was a disabled child."
Wallbank turns 93 today. Just a few years ago she went on an international lecture tour; one of her lectures in the US is on YouTube, in ten parts, here (there's no transcript, however).

Wednesday, May 04, 2011

May 4: Marie Booth (1864-1937)

[visual description: a drawing of Marie Booth as a young woman, in profile, head bowed over folded hands; she has her hair in a low bun, and is wearing glasses and a high-collared jacket]

It's hard to imagine more formidable parents than Catherine and William Booth, the founders of the Salvation Army. Intensely religious and endlessly energetic in the pursuit of their causes, they had eight children, two of whom became "generals" in the Salvation Army. In fact, daughter Marie was the only one of the Booth children who didn't work for the Salvation Army.

Marian Billups "Marie" Booth, born on this date in 1864, had an illness (or, in some accounts, an accident) in early childhood that "rendered her too delicate to take her place beside her brothers and sisters in their public work" (Booth-Tucker, The Life of Catherine Booth (1872), p. 534). Her sister Evangeline recalled an incident from their childhood that will perhaps sound familiar to anyone with a close sibling:
My mother often said that our sister Marie, two years older than I, was her most beautiful baby. But at a very early age smallpox weakened her health and she could not profit by study as did the rest of us, nor in later years take part in public life. Being nearest to her in age, my mother asked me to make it my duty to help her with her lessons and see that she had a place in the games.

One day she failed to grasp the intricacies of a French translateion and our governess, becoming irritated, took hold of her beautiful hair and pulled her head first one way and then the other... and my small hand smote the cheek of the governess. I was ordered to bed without lunch or supper. ...

For two days I refused to say I was sorry for the reason I could not say so truthfully, after which my mother returned.... It might have been right to defend Marie but she was sure I was sorry for the way I had done it. I still wanted to say "No," but I caught the dimness in my mother's eyes and I replied, "Nearly." I was nearly sorry.

(From P. W. Wilson, General Evangeline Booth of the Salvation Army (1948), pp. 44-45.)
Marie attended public family events and held the rank of "staff captain" in the organization. She died in 1937, age 72, and was buried with her parents.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Cerrie Burnell's Arm, Part 2

Wow, so two years after I first wrote about this, Cerrie Burnell's arm is still a matter of controversy? Maybe because I'm also reading Sue Schweik's The Ugly Laws right now, it seems amazing that in 2011 we're still anxious about the sight of an arm that doesn't end in a hand. For recent blogging about Cerrie Burnell's story, see Planet of the Blind and Bess's The Right to Design, among others.

I had just finished reading (and retweeting) that last link when my daughter's newest issue of American Girl magazine arrived in the mail. [visual description: girl holding a magazine open, with the story "Lizzy's Ride" visible; one page is a large photograph of a girl in equestrian gear, riding a pony, with her arms raised; one arm ends above the elbow]

"Lizzy's Ride" is a six-page first-person story about a Pennsylvania girl who rides ponies in competition. Lizzy says "I was born with only one hand. It might seem like that would be a big deal, but it's really not." The story isn't about her arm, it's about her ponies and how she cares for them on her family's farm. (There's video of Lizzy riding on the American Girl website.) But clearly, the editors at AG don't think that such things should be kept under wraps, either.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Just catalogued: Hall Carpenter Archive at LSE

Out of the Box, the blog for the London School of Economics Archives, announced recently that they've completed further cataloguing in the Hall Carpenter Archives, a collection of materials related to the history of gay activism in Britain. Among the items of ephemera they chose to highlight the holdings is this cover from the Winter 1983 issue of the Gay Men's Disabled Group newsletter:


Looks like they have eight consecutive issues of this newsletter, from 1982-1985, available at LSE Archives, if you're looking for a primary source to spur or enhance a disability history project. Community materials like this are often a goldmine, and also too often lost ("it's just a newsletter").

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

CFP: Disability History (25-27 June 2010, Preston UK)

News from the disability history community, found on H-Disability today:

Disability History Conference 2010

Disability History: looking forward to a better past?
June 25th - 27th, 2010

University of Central Lancashire
Preston, UK

Plenary Speakers:
Professor Catherine J Kudlick, University of California, Davis
Professor Tom Shakespeare, University of Newcastle

Disability history has emerged in recent years as an increasingly
popular sub-discipline of historical research, covering social,
cultural, medical, practical, gendered, technological and linguistic
aspects of the lives of those seen by society as having ‘disabled’
bodies and minds. The Disability History Group are pleased to announce
their latest conference. ‘Disability History: looking forward to a
better past?’ which promotes the DHG’s goal to advance research into
the history of disability. It is hoped the conference will broaden the
scope of disability history and deliver fresh and dynamic perspectives
on the way disability has been used to legitimate and understand norms,
social relations, inequality, and oppression. This includes historical
research into individuals, groups and institutions, as well as
representations/constructions and perspectives on disability.

The overarching theme of this conference is ‘Where are we, how did we
get here and where are we going next?’. To this end, the conference is
dedicated to an evaluation of all aspects of disability history at
regional, national and international levels. In ‘looking forward to a
better past’, the DHG hopes to encourage lively and informed debate on
the current state of disability history; how the discipline has emerged
and arrived at this point; and where scholars working in the discipline
will go in the future. However, paper topics are not prescriptive - we
invite potential speakers to consider the ways that their current
research has emerged and its context within the sub-discipline of
disability history.

The DHG invites panel or individual contributions from scholars and
postgraduates working in this field, and is keen to consider papers on a
wide range of topics. Papers covering all aspects of disability history,
as well as papers on the historical and future development of disability
history, are welcomed.

Abstracts of 250 words should be sent to Dr Martin Atherton:
matherton1@uclan.ac.uk by March 31, 2010.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Ha!

Gotta love the headline "Stephen Hawking Both British and Not Dead." In fact, I'm considering making pins with a similar phrase--want one?

Update: I made the pins.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Website: Hidden Lives of the Waifs and Strays

[Image description: a black-and-white photograph of ten smiling English girls in 1915, at least three of them (in front) seated in wheelchairs.]

A remarkable website has come to my attention (hat-tip to Jennifer Bazar). Hidden Lives Revealed is a "virtual archive" preserving the photographs, publications, stories, and sometimes extensive case files of British children in care, 1881-1918. The personal names of the subjects have been removed, but you can access transcripts of correspondence as well as facsimile images. And, because "disability" is one of the keywords in the index, you can find the stories (and there are many such) in which a child's or a parent's disability is a factor in their care arrangement.

Take, for example, J., whose file runs over fifty items. J was born in 1870, and the very first boy in the Society's care. A childhood fall and an accidental burn resulted in physical "deformities." The boy was working as a streetsweeper at age 10; a health inspector removed him from his "wretched and degraded" family and placed him in care. At age 12,
He is now able to run about but a year ago he was compelled to lie on his back & was considered by several doctors in a very precarious condition he is naturally a very good, quiet, little boy & where-ever he has been he was evidently a great favourite. He is decidedly ignorant & can read & write very little.
J. was featured in a Society publication in 1901, as a success story. At the time, the thirty-year-old was working at a printing firm, married, the father of a little girl. But the case file continues for years past this happy ending: there are letters from J himself, and poems he wrote for Society publications. There's a photograph of him c.1923, in a suit and mustache. In 1930, he writes to tell his contacts at the Society that his health has worsened (tuberculosis) and he can no longer do physical labor. There's a flurry of letters as the Society tries to find provisions for this "first boy," but J. died in February 1930.

A. was born in 1892, and orphaned before she was 10. She lived with an older sister who wasn't well-equipped to care for another child; and A. contracted tuberculosis that required a right leg amputation. She was admitted to the Lockett Home for Crippled Children, Southport, in the winter of 1901, in good health. Five years later, a report explains that she's using crutches, healthy and strong, but "her intellect is not very bright." The report concludes that she could earn a living doing ironing if she had a "false leg." "She might also do stocking knitting," opined the writer. Unlike J., we don't know the rest of A.'s story--we don't even know if she got that leg.

Students might quickly take from these case files that work and vocational training are a major concern of the Society--much of the paperwork involves finding placements for teenagers who will soon leave care and need to support themselves. Another issue is morality--standard forms will ask such questions as "Are you aware of her being addicted to any unchaste practice?" The legitimacy and baptismal status of a child is frequently recorded, and the alcoholism and sexual behavior of parents is also a constant theme. Tuberculosis and untreated infections and injuries may strike some students as remarkable common in these materials--an opening to discuss the ways medical care changed in the twentieth century, and how medical history intersects with disability history.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Cerrie Burnell's Arm


The BBC recently introduced new presenters on their popular children's show, CBeebies: Alex Winters and Cerrie Burnell. They're pictured at left, in a publicity still. Both young, white, conventionally attractive, with big grins for the camera. They're dressed in kid-friendly purple and green sweaters, sitting on a comfy couch with satiny pillows. And Cerrie has a noticeably short arm, ending just below the elbow.

Well, that last detail of the picture is apparently a problem for some parents. They say her appearance is "unsuitable" for a children's show, that the sight of her will "scare" children, even to the point of giving them nightmares. Complaints have been filed. Message boards on the subject brim with panic and ignorance. And it is the parents' problem, not the kids' concern: as Lucy Mangan writes about physical difference in a Guardian editorial on the subject, "To a young child, it is just another element of a large and confusing world that they want to inquire about, no more fearsome or embarrassing than any other."

So, of course kids are going to ask, that's what they do--and they're going to take their cues from how their parents answer those questions. Not just the words, either, but the tone, the body language--I posted some tips here a few years ago.

And think about this--if you're telling your children this lovely young woman is too frightful to behold, what are you telling them more generally about beauty? about perfection? What kind of impossible box are you asking them to fit into, and stay inside, for your approval?

Monday, January 05, 2009

January 6: Percivall Pott (1714-1788)

Text not available
Observations on the Nature and Consequences of Those Injuries to which the Head is Liable from External Violence To which are Added, Some Few General Remarks on Fractures and Dislocation By Percivall Pott

Doctors sometimes write about or from their own personal medical experiences, because, well, doctors have bodies too. Think Oliver Sacks' A Leg to Stand On, or Claudia Osborn's Over My Head, or Jill Bolte Taylor's recent A Stroke of Insight (she's a brain scientist, not a physician, but the idea is similar).

An early member of the club is Percivall Pott, an English surgeon. At age 42, he fell off a horse and sustained a serious broken leg. The standard of care for his kind of injury in the 1750s was amputation--which wasn't much care at all, because the surgery itself was quite likely to bring death by sepsis. Instead, his friend and mentor Edward Nourse ordered his wound cleaned, reduced, dressed, and splinted. Pott wrote during his convalescence. Upon recovery, he wrote up the successful treatment in Some Few Remarks Upon Fractures and Dislocations (1768). The book became a popular reference for surgeons in much of western Europe. "It is possible that but for his accident Pott would not have turned to authorship, and surgical literature would have been the poorer," commented Brown and Thornton (see below). Because bonesetting in Pott's day was considered something requiring only minimal skill, he cautions readers from the outset to beware bonesetting quacks, in terms not too far off from today's advice:
The desire of health and ease, like that of money, seems to put all understandings and all men upon a level; the avaritious are duped by every bubble, the lame and the unhealthy by every quack. Each party resigns his understanding, swallows greedily, and for a time believes implicitly the most groundless, ill-founded, and delusory promises, and nothing but loss and disappointment ever produces conviction. (Pott, 2)
Pott is also credited with being the first scientist to link cancer to environmental causes, when he found an association between exposure to soot and a specific cancer of the groin common to chimney sweeps. (The first signs of the cancer were called "soot-wart" by sweeps.) One of the earliest occupational safety laws in the UK was written in part as a response to Pott's discovery. Pott also wrote on spinal arthritis, head injuries, and hernias.

See also:
John R. Brown and John L. Thornton, "Percival Pott and the Chimney Sweepers' Cancer of the Scrotum," British Journal of Industrial Medicine 14(1)(January 1957): 68-70. Online here.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

July 13: John Clare (1793-1864)

[Image description: Engraved portrait of the poet John Clare, shown with tousled hair, wearing a suit with a heavy coat, vest, and a shirt loosely tied up with a print kerchief]

English poet John Clare was born on this date in 1793, in Helpston, near Peterborough. He was the son of a laborer, and himself a laborer, a gardener, who wrote poetry when he could, to be published by an acquaintance. His earnings were never enough to adequately support his wife and seven children (and his alcohol consumption); he experienced depression and later erratic behavior. In 1837 he was placed in a private asylum. After four years, he tried to live at home again, but his wife soon committed him again, this time to the Northampton General Lunatic Asylum, where he eventually died in 1864. It was at Northampton that he wrote his best known poem, "I Am," reflecting his sense of being abandoned by friends and loved ones, his vivid torments, and his longing for rest, "untroubling and untroubled."
I AM
John Clare


I am; yet what I am none cares or knows,

My friends forsake me like a memory lost;

I am the self-consumer of my woes,

They rise and vanish in oblivious host,

Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;

And yet I am! and live with shadows tost


Into nothingness of scorn and noise,

Into the living sea of waking dreams,

Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,

But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;

And e'en the dearest--that I loved the best--

Are strange--nay, rather stranger than the rest.


I long for scenes where man has never trod;

A place where woman never smil'd or wept;

There to abide with my creator, God,

And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:

Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;

The grass below--above the vaulted sky.

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

Edna Knight, MBE!

From a parent support newsletter I got this morning by email:
We are thrilled to announce that Unique Founder & Life President Edna Knight has been made an MBE in the Birthday Honours List 2008. Having founded the group in 1984 with 5 families, Edna has been a major driving force in its development. The award is for voluntary services to people with a chromosome disorder and their families. Congratulations Edna on a richly deserved award.
I joined UNIQUE when my son was just a year old--because he has a rare chromosome disorder, and way back then (I mean 1996), there were no online discussion boards or blogs or listservs for families to meet each other and learn from each other. At the time, UNIQUE didn't have a way of collecting subscription fees in US dollars, so they just sent me the newsletter for free, for years. It was something amazing at the time, to see the founder's letter on the front page, and discover that she had raised two daughters with rare chromosome disorders (and two without, as well)--they were all adults by the time I subscribed, and just finding that they were living and thriving young women was a huge encouragement when I was first starting out. UNIQUE expanded my understanding of what was possible, and what was happening in the world, when I might otherwise have felt very isolated and fearful. So congratulations, Edna Knight!

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Video: "Coming Out"

This isn't brand new (it was on the festival circuit in 2007, and first televised in January 2008), but I just learned of it (at the Berks, thanks Susan). And Jana has requested "things to make me laugh," so here's "Coming Out," an award-winning short film from BBC2's See Hear, written by Charlie Swinbourne and directed by Louis Neethling. David Hay and Debbie Norman are playing the son and mother.



Visuals described: A nice suburban kitchen, mother cooking tea, toast, frying something for breakfast. Twenty-something son comes into the kitchen. He signs his lines; all the dialog is subtitled:
Mum!
What darling?
I've got something to tell you.
All right dear, just a minute.
I've been wanting to tell you something for a some time now....
This sounds serious.
It is serious!
Are you ill?
No, it's nothing like that.
It's about me. Who I am.
What do you mean?
The thing is that I...I'm different to other people.
Oh, I know that, you're my special boy! Always have been.
No, I mean really different. I've know for sometime now, but... I'm deaf.
No you're not, just don't concentrate enough, always away with the fairies in your own little world...
[I'm not sure about the legalities of typing out the whole six-minute script--I wish there was a transcript somewhere online already! Ideas?]

Charlie Swinbourne's "Four Deaf Yorkshiremen" is also on YouTube. (This one has no audio at all, all subtitles.) Fookem and Bug has an interview with Swinbourne.

Saturday, May 03, 2008

Conference: Before Depression (19-21 June)

[Image description: A blue background fades to white, with a grey spiral around a torn bit of dictionary with the words "Melacholy. adj." and "1. Gloomy; dismal" legible, and the title "Before Depression, 1660-1800" beneath that in blue]

This conference program titled "Before Depression: The Representation and Culture of Depression in Britain and Europe, 1660-1800," caught my attention today--the conference itself is just part of a three-year project that also includes an ongoing lecture series, planned publications and an exhibit this summer of visual representations of depression in the 18th century. Too bad for me it's all happening at the University of Northumbria and the University of Sutherland--but good for any of you who happen to be in that neighborhood. If you attend any component of this project, I'd love to hear more about it.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Why I love biographical dictionaries (#2)

(Here's #1.)

A few sentences from the first paragraph of the entry on chemist Ida Freund (1863-1914), in the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography online; entry written by Marilyn Bailey Ogilvie:
"During her youth she lost a leg as a result of a cycling accident and the disease that followed. The artificial leg that replaced it was never very satisfactory. Throughout her life she moved about by means of a tricycle worked with the arms."
And I can't find any other mentions of Freund's tricycle anywhere. Anyone know more about it? There has to be an interesting journal article waiting to be written here--she was a chemistry demonstrator and then lecturer at Cambridge, 1887-1912, a gifted teacher, supporter of women students in the sciences, author of two textbooks. Her colleagues or students must have made some mention of her tricycle over the years?

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Wheelchair tipping?!?!

In not one, but two, countries, intentionally tipping someone's wheelchair has come up in the news lately. What's the deal? In the London Times in January, Rod Liddle suggested in an opinion piece that
"Next time you see a young person in a wheelchair, tip it over and drag the occupant to the nearest job centre, lecturing him or her all the while on the dignity of labour."
Because the only reason a young person would use a wheelchair is to avoid employment, right? (Liddle has a long record of horrid statements about disability, but this one explicitly incites violence against disabled people, an escalation on his part.)

Moving across the Atlantic, the idea is already being put into practice--by one deputy sheriff in Hillsborough Co., Florida. Brian Sterner, a quad, was stopped on a traffic violation on 29 January and taken to the station for booking. Deputy Charlotte Marshall Jones didn't believe he was really paralyzed, so she dumped his wheelchair forwards, and he (surprise!) fell to the ground. The incident was caught on the office surveillance camera (video here, but be warned--it's distressing to see), and she has been suspended without pay. Brian Sterner, it turns out, is the former director of the Florida Spinal Cord Injury Resource Center, based in Tampa. He plays wheelchair rugby with the Tampa Generals, and he's working on a PhD.

So, to recap, some young people use wheelchairs AND work AND drive. And throwing someone to the ground is a dangerously stupid way to prove anything.

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

Stop Eugenics video and the HFEB

The HFEB, or Human Fertilisation and Embryology Bill (the full phrase sounds ominous already, doesn't it?) is a piece of legislation before the British parliament that would make it illegal for couples or individuals to choose for an "abnormality." Clause 14 spells it out:
Persons or embryos that are known to have a gene, chromosome or mitochondrion abnormality involving a significant risk that a person with the abnormality will have or develop—

(a) a serious physical or mental disability,
(b) a serious illness, or
(c) any other serious medical condition,

must not be preferred to those that are not known to have such an abnormality.
This would prohibit, say, a Deaf woman from choosing a deaf donor to increase the chances of her child being deaf like her. There are myriad other troubling possibilities. English bloggers Grumpy Old Deafies are all over the case. Today they posted a video made in protest of the HFEB by stopeugenics.org:





Transcript of the title cards, which appear in white against black, between scenes of a line of paper cutout dolls being cut away from the line, one by one, with large scissors:

Nobody's perfect.
Nobody.
Not even you.
Stop Eugenics.
Just stop.
stopeugenics.org

More videos from the same campaign are here.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

November 15: Charlotte Mew (1869-1928)

English writer Charlotte Mew was born on this date in 1869, in London. Her sister Freda was institutionalized at age 19, in an asylum on the Isle of Wight, and remained there almost 60 years, until her death in 1958. Their brother Henry also died in a lunatic asylum in 1901, at the age of 35. Charlotte and her other sister Anne believed they might also become mad: "She and her sister had both made up their minds early in life that they would never marry for fear of passing on the mental taint that was in their heredity," wrote a friend. To another friend, Charlotte described her own "queer uncertain mind." Charlotte Mew died by suicide in 1928. This is one of her poems about madness, segregation, and stigma, and the belief that disability was "the incarnate wages of man's sin":
On The Asylum Road

Theirs is the house whose windows---every pane---
Are made of darkly stained or clouded glass:
Sometimes you come upon them in the lane,
The saddest crowd that you will ever pass.

But still we merry town or village folk
Throw to their scattered stare a kindly grin,
And think no shame to stop and crack a joke
With the incarnate wages of man's sin.

None but ourselves in our long gallery we meet,
The moor-hen stepping from her reeds with dainty feet,
The hare-bell bowing on its stem,
Dance not with us; their pulses beat
To fainter music; nor do we to them
Make their life sweet.

The gayest crowd that they will ever pass
Are we to brother-shadows in the lane:
Our windows, too, are clouded glass
To them, yes, every pane!

Monday, October 08, 2007

We do know better

We may call on the surgeon for any act upon an individual which is to benefit him. We may not treat him as we do with our cattle, for the benefit of ourselves or the state.

--Alexander Johnson, "Report of the Committee on Colonies for and Segregation of Defectives," Proceedings of the National Conference on Charities and Correction, 1903.
Happened upon this quote in an article I've assigned for my online course in US disability history this week. We're reading about the history of eugenic sterilization laws, policies, and practices this week. The idea that all disabled people, all convicted criminals, all poor folks should be sterilized once made sense to a frightening lot of Americans. It's heartening to know that, even at the height of the eugenics movement, some folks realized it was wrong, and said so, like in the quote above. Johnson and his committee were all heads of state schools for "feebleminded" children, and they all objected to the idea that sterilization should be added to their duties. In the end, their position was vindicated, but not before many thousands of routine sterilizations were performed in the next several decades, often without consent or even truthful explanations.

I wish this quote wasn't quite so timely. I wish folks didn't talk about major surgery as a casual thing (even when it's medically necessary, it's a big deal, with plenty of pain and risk, no matter what it looks like on TV). I wish the child's rights and interests were taken seriously. I wish folks weren't so squeamish about ordinary bodily functions. I wish people wouldn't use the "unless you're a parent like me you can't understand" line of defense, because that presumes parents like me understand, and I don't.

I wish we knew better. Oh wait, we do.

More on the same subject (I'll be updating these links as necessary):
Biodiverse Resistance
Falling Off My Pedestal
Miss Crip Chick's Weblog
FRIDA
(and more from FRIDA, and more still from FRIDA)
Wheelchair Dancer
(and more from Wheelchair Dancer)
My Beautiful Wickedness
Tiny Cat Pants
The Life and Times of Emma
Brown Femipower
(and more from Brown Femipower)
The Strangest Alchemy
(and more from The Strangest Alchemy, and still more from The Strangest Alchemy)
Ryn Tales Book of Days
Jemma Brown (at Ouch!)
Kintropy in Action
Wheelie Catholic
Planet of the Blind
Feministe
Growing Up with a Disability
Not Dead Yet News & Commentary
Terrible Palsy
Andrea's Buzzing About
The Gimp Parade
Arthritic Young Thing
Pipecleaner Dreams
A Tedious Delusion
A Renegade Evolution
Lisy Babe's Blog
Mind the Gap Cardiff
Diary of a Goldfish
Turtlebella
Bad Cripple
Big Noise
Quench Zine
Modus Dopens
Sunny Dreamer
Antiprincess
Walking is Overrated
Nickie's Nook
Benefit Scrounging Scum
Fetch Me My Axe
Text and the World
Bastante Already
R. Mildred
The Voyage
Maman Poulet
The Seated View

NOTE: After the last round on this topic, when we had lovely comments comparing people like my son to doorstops and turnips (thanks so much, CNN, for sending the anonymous hate this way), I'm just not going to respond to anonymous or ugly comments. In truth, I might not respond to any comments. I've got a carnival edition to assemble.

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Next Week in London: Journeys into Madness, 1850-1930

From the H-Net Announcements digest:
Journeys Into Madness: The Representation of Mental Illness in the Arts and Sciences , 1850-1930

The conference Journeys into Madness: Representing Mental Illness in the Arts and Sciences, 1850-1930 will take place at the Wellcome Collection Conference Centre, London, on 11 and 12 October 2007. This conference has been supported by the University of Plymouth, the Wellcome Trust and the British Academy. To book your place, please contact Gemma Blackshaw. Payment can be sent electronically or by post.
The program includes papers on "male hysteria," the rest cure, asylum photography, German psychiatry, patients' writings, farm work, art brut, avant-garde film, asylum art, trauma... check it out. Even when I can't possibly attend, I love looking at conference programs, seeing who's doing what...