Results by title

How special education used disability labels to marginalize Black students in public schools

The Unteachables examines the overrepresentation of Black students in special education over the course of the twentieth century. As African American children integrated predominantly white schools, many were disproportionately labeled educable mentally retarded (EMR), learning disabled (LD), and emotionally behavioral disordered (EBD). Keith A. Mayes charts the evolution of disability categories and how these labels kept Black learners segregated in American classrooms.

The civil rights and the educational disability rights movements, Mayes shows, have both collaborated and worked at cross-purposes since the beginning of school desegregation. Disability rights advocates built upon the opportunity provided by the civil rights movement to make claims about student invisibility at the level of intellectual and cognitive disabilities. Although special education ostensibly included children from all racial groups, educational disability rights advocates focused on the needs of white disabled students, while school systems used disability discourses to malign and marginalize Black students.

From the 1940s to the present, social science researchers, policymakers, school administrators, and teachers have each contributed to the overrepresentation of Black students in special education. Excavating the deep-seated racism embedded in both the public school system and public policy, The Unteachables explores the discriminatory labeling of Black students, and how it indelibly contributed to special education disproportionality, to student discipline and push-out practices, and to the school-to-prison pipeline effect.

This book examines the transition from peasant agriculturalism to urban industrialism in Japan was in the hands of a merchant class wholly oriented toward an internal economic system when she entered the modern international world. Consequently, Japanese political administration assumed a large portion of foreign commercial and industrial activity, in its initial stages. Thus, her modern economic and industrial development served political purposes of those concerned with Japan’s international political standing. In this sense, Japan’s early modernization was a “planned” transition. The industries sponsored by subsidy and outright government ownership therefore experienced rapid technological change and expansion, while those industries devoted to consumer goods were left to traditional means of production. The demographic characteristics of Japan’s urban population clearly reflect this background. The organization of a manufacturing group along the lines of family structure was modified, but not destroyed, by the transition to urban industrialism. Thus, in marked contrast to Europe, where the family is primarily a consumer unit, in Japan is a productive unit as well. While the experience of Japan does not provide a blueprint for nations that are now undertaking industrialization, the unique evolution of her urban-industrial complexes has great abstract value, in corroborating the theoretical contention that there is a wide range of alternatives to the pattern of industrialization that prevails in the West. All those concerned with preserving the best of their existing culture, while moving into the inevitable world-wide urban-industrial future, will benefit and be encouraged by the example of Japan.

In the postdictatorial era, Latin American cultural production and criticism have been defined by a series of assumptions about politics and art—especially the claim that political freedom can be achieved by promoting a more direct experience between the textual subject (often a victim) and the reader by eliminating the division between art and life. The Vanishing Frame argues against this conception of freedom, demonstrating how it is based on a politics of human rights complicit with economic injustices. Presenting a provocative counternarrative, Eugenio Claudio Di Stefano examines literary, visual, and interdisciplinary artists who insist on the autonomy of the work of art in order to think beyond the politics of human rights and neoliberalism in Latin American theory and culture.

Di Stefano demonstrates that while artists such as Diamela Eltit, Ariel Dorfman, and Albertina Carri develop a concept of justice premised on recognizing victims’ experiences of torture or disappearance, they also ignore the injustice of economic inequality and exploitation. By examining how artists such as Roberto Bolaño, Alejandro Zambra, and Fernando Botero not only reject an aesthetics of experience (and the politics it entails) but also insist on the work of art as a point of departure for an anticapitalist politics, this new reading of Latin American cultural production offers an alternative understanding of recent developments in Latin American aesthetics and politics that puts art at its center and the postdictatorship at its end.

This book seeks to reformulate the canon of writings on what is called “the Viet Nam War” in America and “the American War” in Viet Nam. Until recently, the accepted canon has consisted almost exclusively of American white male combat narratives, which often reflect and perpetuate Asian stereotypes. Renny Christopher introduces material that displays a bicultural perspective, including works by Vietnamese exile writers and by lesser-known Euro-Americans who attempt to bridge the cultural gap.

Christopher traces the history of American stereotyping of Asians and shows how Euro-American ethnocentricity has limited most American authors' ability to represent fairly the Vietnamese in their stories. By giving us access to Vietnamese representations of the war, she creates a context for understanding the way the war was experienced from the “other” side, and she offers perceptive, well-documented analyses of how and why Americans have so emphatically excised the Vietnamese from narratives about a war fought in their own country.

The longest war in the nation's history, the American military intervention in Vietnam dominated United States culture and politics from 1965 to 1975. In addition to causing immense devastation in Southeast Asia, the war transformed American society, with effects that continue to be felt today. Yet aside from a few cultural studies of the war's representations, scholars have tended to ignore the relationship between the American war in Vietnam and broader cultural developments in the West. Frederic Jameson once characterized the Vietnam War as “the first terrible postmodernist war,” suggesting that it embodied or reflected the sensibility of an emerging historical epoch. But does it make sense to place a military conflict within a category of cultural and aesthetic periodization? Is it possible to see the Vietnam War as an expression and reflection of postmodernity—what Jameson calls “the cultural logic of late capitalism?” These are some of the questions addressed in this volume. Ranging across a variety of disciplines, including philosophy, cultural studies, literary criticism, and film studies, the essays explore the war's discourses and technologies in relation to the post-modern condition. At the same time, they reinterpret key cultural representations of the war from a postmodern perspective. The result is a book that poses important challenges to both Vietnam War studies and postmodern studies, at once reshaping the ways postmodernity is conceived and reminding us of the war's enduring significance in contemporary cultural history. In addition to Michael Bibby, contributors are Philip D. Beidler, Michael Clark, Cynthia J. Fuchs, Brady Harrison, Tony Williams, Eric Gadzinski, Chris Hables Gray, and Douglas Kellner.

The Vital Lie: Reality and Illusion in Modern Drama is a sweeping inquiry into the stories people tell themselves in order to endure, survive, and belong. Moving from Ibsen and Strindberg to Beckett, Pinter, and beyond, Anthony S. Abbott traces the uneasy traffic between actuality and self-invention that animates modern theater. Rather than offering a simple survey, he uncovers a recurring dramatic predicament: the cognitive dissonance that afflict people when the beliefs they hold about themselves collide with reality.

Anthony S. Abbott writes with the erudite observation of a critic and the curiosity of a participant. His book explores illusion, meaning, and human resilience, a perspective that lends unusual urgency to its readings of canonical playwrights. Abbott's scholarship is expansive without becoming academic in the pejorative sense; his arguments remain animated by large questions about purpose, dignity, and the imaginative structures that sustain ordinary lives. 

Ideal for theater devotees, literary historians, students of modernism, philosophy-minded readers, directors, dramaturgs, and anyone fascinated by self-deception, mythmaking, and identity. Admirers of intellectual biography, cultural criticism, existential inquiry, and ambitious cross-author interpretation will find this volume especially rewarding. Those who relish fresh angles on familiar classics will discover a study that is probing, elegant, and unexpectedly memorable.

How did slavery and race impact American literature in the nineteenth century? In this ambitious book, Michael T. Gilmore argues that they were the carriers of linguistic restriction, and writers from Frederick Douglass to Stephen Crane wrestled with the demands for silence and circumspection that accompanied the antebellum fear of disunion and the postwar reconciliation between the North and South.

Proposing a radical new interpretation of nineteenth-century American literature, The War on Words examines struggles over permissible and impermissible utterance in works ranging from Thoreau’s “Civil Disobedience” to Henry James’s The Bostonians. Combining historical knowledge with groundbreaking readings of some of the classic texts of the American past, The War on Words places Lincoln’s Cooper Union address in the same constellation as Margaret Fuller’s feminism and Thomas Dixon’s defense of lynching. Arguing that slavery and race exerted coercive pressure on freedom of expression, Gilmore offers here a transformative study that alters our understanding of nineteenth-century literary culture and its fraught engagement with the right to speak.

Mark Erlich blends long-view history with his personal experience inside the building trades to explain one of our economy’s least understood sectors. Erlich’s multifaceted account includes the dynamics of the industry, the backdrop of union policies, and powerful stories of everyday life inside the trades. He offers a much-needed overview of construction’s past and present while exploring roads to the future.

A visionary reckoning with prophecy, possession, and the grammar of liberation

A bold, experimental intervention in literary and theoretical discourse of colonialism and diaspora, The Web of Differing Versions engages with Leslie Marmon Silko’s 1991 Almanac of the Dead as literature, prophecy, and philosophy. Reid Gómez makes “The Indian Connection” that Silko prophesizes—Land Back!—and offers a prescient response to Silko’s enduring question: who has spiritual possession of the Américas?

Realizing the great capacity of Black and Native studies, Gómez crafts a visionary mode of scholarship that resists acknowledging conceptual, political, spiritual, formal, or linguistic borders. Rather than comparing or separating, she demonstrates how to stop telling things apart: Black|Indian, slavery|colonization, and writing|translation. Gómez shifts focus from racialized identities to the prophesied world itself, working with music, literature, and language to elaborate the connections that exist between racialized bodies, land, and sea as she emphasizes the ubiquity of escape, revolt, and beauty/hózhǫ́.

A theoretical composition, this book enacts a practice of re-visioning that uses Silko’s Almanac to challenge the limits of thought, language, and the very idea of scholarship. Attending the multiplicity of time into times, past into pasts, future into futures, The Web of Differing Versions offers a new grammar for a shared and violent world.

Retail e-book files for this title are screen-reader friendly.

Mining in North America has long been criticized for its impact on the natural environment. Mica Jorgenson’s The Weight of Gold explores the history of Ontario, Canada’s rise to prominence in the gold mining industry, while detailing a series of environmental crises related to extraction activities. In Ontario in 1909, the discovery of exceptionally rich hard rock gold deposits in the Abitibi region in the north precipitated industrial development modeled on precedents in Australia, South Africa, and the United States. By the late 1920s, Ontario’s mines had reached their maturity, and in 1928, Minister of Mines Charles McRae called Canada “the mineral treasure house to [the] world.”

Mining companies increasingly depended upon their ability to redistribute the burdens of mining onto surrounding communities—a strategy they continue to use today—both at home and abroad. Jorgenson connects Canadian gold mining to its international context, revealing that Ontario’s gold mines informed extractive knowledge which would go on to shape Canada’s mining industry over the next century.