I Could Wrestle with my Disability, but I Think I’ll Dance Instead

black and white picture of Nearest accessible entrance sign

Sorry, I’m Disabled. Oh, Wait, I’m Not Sorry, Just Disabled.

A picture of Denver's building and city view from above

Denver’s One-Lung Army: Disease, Disability, and Debility in a Frontier City

A black and white sketching of Mississippi State Institution

Ghosts are Scary, Disabled People are Not: The Troubling Rise of the Haunted Asylum

Uncolored photo, a wheelchair is coming down one stair, with a focus on the wheelchair and legs from the bottom

If You’re Not a Jerk, Then I’m Not Disabled

Students and teachers from the Eastwood School smile and laugh for their class photo.

Big Promises, Bigger Failures: When Public Education Makes You Sick

Police Brutality, Mental Illness, and Race in the Age of Mass Incarceration

Pregnancy, Fear, and Conformity

Come to the Dark Side: Disability as “Dark” Civil War History

By Sarah Handley-Cousins

While the rest of the world was happily decking the halls and calling for goodwill toward men, Civil War historians — in the now-famous words of Historista blogger and historian Megan Kate Nelson — were “freaking out.”

They weren’t freaking out because of the discovery of some great new source material, or an exciting new publication. They were freaking out because both Civil War History and The Journal of the Civil War Era, the two major journals in the field, each published an article in their December issues that criticized the state of current Civil War research and writing. The major concern for the articles’ authors — Gary Gallagher and Kathryn Shively Meier for JCWE and Earl J. Hess for CWH — was that Civil War military historians, already a dying breed, are being hurried to their demise by eager social and cultural historians who dismiss military history as unscholarly and old-fashioned. Earl Hess suggests that “understanding the real battlefield of 1861-1865 is essential to understanding everything else about the Civil War.”[1] Gallagher and Meier assert that “because the Civil War was a massive war, every scholar of the conflict should be at least basically versed in its military history.”[2]

Photo of a doctor's office.

Prenatal Testing and Counseling: The New Front of the Abortion Wars?

By Ginny Engholm

As everyone who reads this blog (or is on Facebook or Twitter) is by now well aware, the Supreme Court’s recent ruling in the Hobby Lobby case has dealt yet another powerful blow to women’s right to access contraceptives and manage their own health care, reproductive choices, and bodies. But a recent law—this one in Louisiana and regarding prenatal testing and counseling—poses yet another, but much less recognized, threat to women’s reproductive freedom. In May, Louisiana joined several other states (Massachusetts, Kentucky, Delaware, and Maryland) in passing a version of the Down Syndrome Information Act. This measure is part of the pro-information movement, which attempts to balance disparate groups and agendas within the Down syndrome community by bringing together both pro-choice and pro-life Down syndrome advocates in favor of providing women balanced, medically-accurate, and sensitive information about options when faced with a prenatal diagnosis of Down syndrome. The act as intended requires doctors to give appropriate medical information about the diagnosis and the options. It also requires doctors to give referrals to genetic counselors and relevant support services when delivering a prenatal diagnosis of Down syndrome to a patient.