Academic literature on the topic 'Children of alcoholics – united states – biography'

For many African Americans, the extended family has been the source of strength, resilience, and survival. Although changes in African American families, like changes in all families in the United States that have diluted the importance of kinship ties, many African Americans continue to place a high value on extended family members. Children of Africans and communities of African descent traditionally interact with multiple caregivers, consisting of kin, and fictive kin.Utilizing both attachment theory and risk and resilience literature, this paper discusses ways to better understand the resilient nature of African American families and how multiple attachment relationships assist at-risk African American children, specifically adult children of alcoholics (ACOAs).

A program titled “The Images Within” was implemented and evaluated in three sites on the east coast of the United States. This school curriculum uses art work developed by children of alcoholics to stimulate classroom discussions of the problems of parental alcohol abuse. The evaluation with 278 experimental and 310 control students indicated increased knowledge about the effects of alcohol and improved skills in coping with alcohol problems and help seeking behavior. Process data indicated that related programs were initiated, students were stimulated by the program and teachers were positive in their perceptions of the program. Schools implementing this program need to have developed referral networks to handle the individual concerns that are expressed as a result of participation in “The Images Within.”

AbstractThis article traces the biography of an Afro-German woman born during the 1920s Rhineland occupation to examine the peculiarities of the black German diaspora, as well as potential connections between these peculiarities and larger trends in the history of German colonialism and racism. “Erika Diekmann” was born in Worms in 1920. Her mother was a German citizen, her father a Senegalese French soldier. Separated from her birth mother at a young age, Erika spent her youth and early adulthood in a school for Christian Arab girls in Jerusalem run by the Protestant order of the Kaiserswerth Deaconesses (KaiserswertherDiakonissen). After World War II, Erika returned to West Germany, but in 1957, she emigrated to the United States, along with her (white) German husband and four children. Erika's story offers unique opportunities for studying Afro-German women's active strategies of making Germany their “home.” It underlines the complicated role of conventional female gender prescriptions in processes of interracial family-building. The centrality of religion to Erika's social relationships significantly enhances our understanding of the complexity of German attitudes toward national belonging and race during the first half of the twentieth century.

<p>This short biography details the life and medical activities of Rosa Einhorn, mariée Bloch (1872–1950), who practised as an Austro-Hungarian (AH) official female physician in Travnik in occupied Bosnia and Herzegovina (BH) from 1902 to 1904, and as a semi-official private physician from 1905 to 1912/13. Born in Hrodna district in the Russian Pale of Crescent, Einhorn had qualified and practised as a “<em>feldsheritsa</em>” in Russia and went to Switzerland to study medicine in 1896. Upon receiving her medi­cal doctorate from the University of Lausanne in 1901, she became recommended as a particularly adequate candidate for the not-yet-created position of an AH official female physician in BH. After Einhorn functioned as a general practitioner for women and children in Travnik and the adjacent districts for two years, the AH public health authorities officially dismissed her due to her engagement and marriage to the AH judiciary Sigismund Bloch (1850–1927). However, she obtained a right to private practice in 1905 and was employed as a private physician in AH anti-syphilis campaigning. Struggling for her reinstatement as an official female physician in Travnik, she also strove for the accreditation of her Swiss diploma in Austria, though in vain. After two attempts to emigrate to the United States in 1904 and 1913, Rosa Einhorn finally left Europe to work as a physician in the United States and Mandatory Palestine/Eretz Israel in 1923. She died in New York on May 27, 1950.</p><p><strong>Conclusion. </strong>Rosa Einhorn was employed as a provisory official female physician in Travnik in 1903/1904, the AH authorities accepting her only as a lo­cal private female physician after her marriage in 1905. Struggling in vain for her reinstatement, she finally left Bosnia in 1913.</p>

There are 18 million children of alcoholics in the United States. Children of Alcoholics have a higher risk of becoming addicted to alcohol because of genetic and neurological predispositions.I will discuss the risk factors for children of alcoholics in depth. The personality and age of onset of drinking alcohol are important factors in the development of an Alcohol Use Disorder. Parental interventions for sober parents to use during their child’s adolescence are suggested to lower the risk of an Alcohol Use Disorder founded on the literature of intergenerational effects of alcoholism.

In 2006, Sir Ken Robinson gave a speech entitled “Schools Kill Creativity” addressing critical concerns about the way children were being educated. He stated that academic success and the concept of intelligence were viewed too narrowly. Citing the growing complexity of problems facing society, he called for a drastic restructuring of educational beliefs and practices. To Robinson, fostering creativity was the answer. A video of the speech was posted on the website www.ted.com in June of 2006. To this date, there have been 17 million views. Robinson’s online biography mentions that the most popular comment regarding this talk is that “everyone should watch this” (“Speakers”, 2006). Clearly, this speech embodies a major social criticism of the current education system. Robinson has been credited with launching “a massive inquiry into the significance of creativity in the educational system and the economy” (“Speakers”, 2006) and is seen as a worldwide leader in creative education. However, his sentiments and efforts are neither new nor original. Almost sixty years earlier, in 1950, a speech entitled “Creativity” was given by the president of the American Psychological Association Joy Paul Guilford. He too criticized the public education system for stifling creativity in children, and believed the definition of intelligence was too narrow. Citing the growing complexity of problems facing 1950s America, Guilford saw creativity as the answer and demanded drastic educational restructuring (Runco, 2004). Guildford’s address sparked the initial movement of psychological research in the field of creativity and the massive undertaking of defining, testing and fostering it in the decades following his speech (Barron & Harrington, 1981). However, Robinson echoes much of the same concern sixty years later: schools are still not nurturing the creativity needed to solve the myriad of problems facing society. Separated by over six decades of research in the field, questions are raised about why Robinson is again advocating for inquiry into education and creativity. Taking into account the underlying social attitudes and opinions in both periods of history, it seems there may be a distinct set of cultural, political and social events leading to the call for educational research in creativity. This paper extends the sociocultural theory of Zeitgeist to examine trends in creativity research and proposes that more inquiry into creative education might not be necessary.

Which different feelings and reactions do different family members show if an adult family member who has long been perceived as heterosexual discloses their sexual identity as lesbian, gay, or bisexual (LGB)? Previous studies have investigated reactions of spouses and sometimes children in the United States. This article describes the findings of qualitative interviews and a German-language quantitative survey (N = 188) in which family members were asked about their emotions, experiences during the coming out process, and their use of support options. The samples were recruited via different LGB+ online forums and organizations in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland (age M = 44.08). The results demonstrate that a coming out after years of a heterosexual biography and family life affects adults’ parents and siblings in addition to spouses and children. Siblings were perceived as a supportive group of family members showing calm and mostly positive reactions. Parents mainly reported surprise but also showed on the one hand interest in supporting their children in the coming out process; on the other hand, we find also evidence for negative reactions including rejecting behavior. Children’s coping and well-being depended on the time that had passed since the coming out and their age at the time of the coming out. Spouses felt shocked, angry, and the ground was pulled from under their feet. Comparing the perspectives of these groups of family members, differences between them, and their specific needs are discussed. Practical implications are derived from the support options mentioned, and range from information from books, the internet to professional advice. Spouses report the need of diverse support options, whereas other family members ask friends and other family members for support. Forums, counseling and the possibility to exchange were perceived as a support but were more accessible for women than for men. They provide the chance for a communicative exchange before the stress becomes too strong.

A culturally significant, vibrant group of textiles gathered in the nineteenth century by Natalia Leonidovna Shabelsky, praised by critics and celebrated worldwide, was nearly lost to history. Born in Taganrog, Russia, in 1841, Shabelsky moved after her marriage to a rural estate in the Lebedinsky region where she developed an interest in the indigenous textile practice of ethnic Russia. She collected and preserved examples of embroidery and lace, as towel ends and costume accessories, all filled with traditional motifs such as the Tree of Life, the Sirin, and the Mother Goddess in her various guises. At the end of the nineteenth century, Shabelsky exhibited her collection at numerous world’s fairs. After the 1900 Exposition Universelle in Paris, Shabelsky, her two daughters, and the collection remained in France. Shabelsky died in 1904; her daughters ensured that the collection was properly documented and published. Neither of Shabelsky’s daughters had children; they entrusted Count and Countess Basil Musin Pushkin to exhibit and sell the collection to museums in the United States. In the early 1930s, the Brooklyn Museum, the Cleveland Museum of Art, and the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, all purchased Shabelsky textiles. Within Cleveland’s collection, only Pushkin’s name was associated with the original accession records, omitting key provenance information. This unfortunate error led to the deaccession of a portion of this influential collection. My paper will address Shabelsky’s biography, the history of her collection, and its current status in museums and private collections. In keeping with the theme of this conference—Hidden Stories, Human Lives—I hope not only to unravel the narrative of this collection and its hidden story, but to emphasize the necessity of revealing and preserving the histories of women in the arts, in this case Natalia Leonidovna Shabelsky, champion and savior of Russian textiles.

The term “coffee palace” was primarily used in Australia to describe the temperance hotels that were built in the last decades of the 19th century, although there are references to the term also being used to a lesser extent in the United Kingdom (Denby 174). Built in response to the worldwide temperance movement, which reached its pinnacle in the 1880s in Australia, coffee palaces were hotels that did not serve alcohol. This was a unique time in Australia’s architectural development as the economic boom fuelled by the gold rush in the 1850s, and the demand for ostentatious display that gathered momentum during the following years, afforded the use of richly ornamental High Victorian architecture and resulted in very majestic structures; hence the term “palace” (Freeland 121). The often multi-storied coffee palaces were found in every capital city as well as regional areas such as Geelong and Broken Hill, and locales as remote as Maria Island on the east coast of Tasmania. Presented as upholding family values and discouraging drunkenness, the coffee palaces were most popular in seaside resorts such as Barwon Heads in Victoria, where they catered to families. Coffee palaces were also constructed on a grand scale to provide accommodation for international and interstate visitors attending the international exhibitions held in Sydney (1879) and Melbourne (1880 and 1888). While the temperance movement lasted well over 100 years, the life of coffee palaces was relatively short-lived. Nevertheless, coffee palaces were very much part of Australia’s cultural landscape. In this article, I examine the rise and demise of coffee palaces associated with the temperance movement and argue that coffee palaces established in the name of abstinence were modelled on the coffee houses that spread throughout Europe and North America in the 17th and 18th centuries during the Enlightenment—a time when the human mind could be said to have been liberated from inebriation and the dogmatic state of ignorance. The Temperance Movement At a time when newspapers are full of lurid stories about binge-drinking and the alleged ill-effects of the liberalisation of licensing laws, as well as concerns over the growing trend of marketing easy-to-drink products (such as the so-called “alcopops”) to teenagers, it is difficult to think of a period when the total suppression of the alcohol trade was seriously debated in Australia. The cause of temperance has almost completely vanished from view, yet for well over a century—from 1830 to the outbreak of the Second World War—the control or even total abolition of the liquor trade was a major political issue—one that split the country, brought thousands onto the streets in demonstrations, and influenced the outcome of elections. Between 1911 and 1925 referenda to either limit or prohibit the sale of alcohol were held in most States. While moves to bring about abolition failed, Fitzgerald notes that almost one in three Australian voters expressed their support for prohibition of alcohol in their State (145). Today, the temperance movement’s platform has largely been forgotten, killed off by the practical example of the United States, where prohibition of the legal sale of alcohol served only to hand control of the liquor traffic to organised crime. Coffee Houses and the Enlightenment Although tea has long been considered the beverage of sobriety, it was coffee that came to be regarded as the very antithesis of alcohol. When the first coffee house opened in London in the early 1650s, customers were bewildered by this strange new drink from the Middle East—hot, bitter, and black as soot. But those who tried coffee were, reports Ellis, soon won over, and coffee houses were opened across London, Oxford, and Cambridge and, in the following decades, Europe and North America. Tea, equally exotic, entered the English market slightly later than coffee (in 1664), but was more expensive and remained a rarity long after coffee had become ubiquitous in London (Ellis 123-24). The impact of the introduction of coffee into Europe during the seventeenth century was particularly noticeable since the most common beverages of the time, even at breakfast, were weak “small beer” and wine. Both were safer to drink than water, which was liable to be contaminated. Coffee, like beer, was made using boiled water and, therefore, provided a new and safe alternative to alcoholic drinks. There was also the added benefit that those who drank coffee instead of alcohol began the day alert rather than mildly inebriated (Standage 135). It was also thought that coffee had a stimulating effect upon the “nervous system,” so much so that the French called coffee une boisson intellectuelle (an intellectual beverage), because of its stimulating effect on the brain (Muskett 71). In Oxford, the British called their coffee houses “penny universities,” a penny then being the price of a cup of coffee (Standage 158). Coffee houses were, moreover, more than places that sold coffee. Unlike other institutions of the period, rank and birth had no place (Ellis 59). The coffee house became the centre of urban life, creating a distinctive social culture by treating all customers as equals. Egalitarianism, however, did not extend to women—at least not in London. Around its egalitarian (but male) tables, merchants discussed and conducted business, writers and poets held discussions, scientists demonstrated experiments, and philosophers deliberated ideas and reforms. For the price of a cup (or “dish” as it was then known) of coffee, a man could read the latest pamphlets and newsletters, chat with other patrons, strike business deals, keep up with the latest political gossip, find out what other people thought of a new book, or take part in literary or philosophical discussions. Like today’s Internet, Twitter, and Facebook, Europe’s coffee houses functioned as an information network where ideas circulated and spread from coffee house to coffee house. In this way, drinking coffee in the coffee house became a metaphor for people getting together to share ideas in a sober environment, a concept that remains today. According to Standage, this information network fuelled the Enlightenment (133), prompting an explosion of creativity. Coffee houses provided an entirely new environment for political, financial, scientific, and literary change, as people gathered, discussed, and debated issues within their walls. Entrepreneurs and scientists teamed up to form companies to exploit new inventions and discoveries in manufacturing and mining, paving the way for the Industrial Revolution (Standage 163). The stock market and insurance companies also had their birth in the coffee house. As a result, coffee was seen to be the epitome of modernity and progress and, as such, was the ideal beverage for the Age of Reason. By the 19th century, however, the era of coffee houses had passed. Most of them had evolved into exclusive men’s clubs, each geared towards a certain segment of society. Tea was now more affordable and fashionable, and teahouses, which drew clientele from both sexes, began to grow in popularity. Tea, however, had always been Australia’s most popular non-alcoholic drink. Tea (and coffee) along with other alien plants had been part of the cargo unloaded onto Australian shores with the First Fleet in 1788. Coffee, mainly from Brazil and Jamaica, remained a constant import but was taxed more heavily than tea and was, therefore, more expensive. Furthermore, tea was much easier to make than coffee. To brew tea, all that is needed is to add boiling water, coffee, in contrast, required roasting, grinding and brewing. According to Symons, until the 1930s, Australians were the largest consumers of tea in the world (19). In spite of this, and as coffee, since its introduction into Europe, was regarded as the antidote to alcohol, the temperance movement established coffee palaces. In the early 1870s in Britain, the temperance movement had revived the coffee house to provide an alternative to the gin taverns that were so attractive to the working classes of the Industrial Age (Clarke 5). Unlike the earlier coffee house, this revived incarnation provided accommodation and was open to men, women and children. “Cheap and wholesome food,” was available as well as reading rooms supplied with newspapers and periodicals, and games and smoking rooms (Clarke 20). In Australia, coffee palaces did not seek the working classes, as clientele: at least in the cities they were largely for the nouveau riche. Coffee Palaces The discovery of gold in 1851 changed the direction of the Australian economy. An investment boom followed, with an influx of foreign funds and English banks lending freely to colonial speculators. By the 1880s, the manufacturing and construction sectors of the economy boomed and land prices were highly inflated. Governments shared in the wealth and ploughed money into urban infrastructure, particularly railways. Spurred on by these positive economic conditions and the newly extended inter-colonial rail network, international exhibitions were held in both Sydney and Melbourne. To celebrate modern technology and design in an industrial age, international exhibitions were phenomena that had spread throughout Europe and much of the world from the mid-19th century. According to Davison, exhibitions were “integral to the culture of nineteenth century industrialising societies” (158). In particular, these exhibitions provided the colonies with an opportunity to demonstrate to the world their economic power and achievements in the sciences, the arts and education, as well as to promote their commerce and industry. Massive purpose-built buildings were constructed to house the exhibition halls. In Sydney, the Garden Palace was erected in the Botanic Gardens for the 1879 Exhibition (it burnt down in 1882). In Melbourne, the Royal Exhibition Building, now a World Heritage site, was built in the Carlton Gardens for the 1880 Exhibition and extended for the 1888 Centennial Exhibition. Accommodation was required for the some one million interstate and international visitors who were to pass through the gates of the Garden Palace in Sydney. To meet this need, the temperance movement, keen to provide alternative accommodation to licensed hotels, backed the establishment of Sydney’s coffee palaces. The Sydney Coffee Palace Hotel Company was formed in 1878 to operate and manage a number of coffee palaces constructed during the 1870s. These were designed to compete with hotels by “offering all the ordinary advantages of those establishments without the allurements of the drink” (Murdoch). Coffee palaces were much more than ordinary hotels—they were often multi-purpose or mixed-use buildings that included a large number of rooms for accommodation as well as ballrooms and other leisure facilities to attract people away from pubs. As the Australian Town and Country Journal reveals, their services included the supply of affordable, wholesome food, either in the form of regular meals or occasional refreshments, cooked in kitchens fitted with the latest in culinary accoutrements. These “culinary temples” also provided smoking rooms, chess and billiard rooms, and rooms where people could read books, periodicals and all the local and national papers for free (121). Similar to the coffee houses of the Enlightenment, the coffee palaces brought businessmen, artists, writers, engineers, and scientists attending the exhibitions together to eat and drink (non-alcoholic), socialise and conduct business. The Johnson’s Temperance Coffee Palace located in York Street in Sydney produced a practical guide for potential investors and businessmen titled International Exhibition Visitors Pocket Guide to Sydney. It included information on the location of government departments, educational institutions, hospitals, charitable organisations, and embassies, as well as a list of the tariffs on goods from food to opium (1–17). Women, particularly the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union (WCTU) were a formidable force in the temperance movement (intemperance was generally regarded as a male problem and, more specifically, a husband problem). Murdoch argues, however, that much of the success of the push to establish coffee palaces was due to male politicians with business interests, such as the one-time Victorian premiere James Munro. Considered a stern, moral church-going leader, Munro expanded the temperance movement into a fanatical force with extraordinary power, which is perhaps why the temperance movement had its greatest following in Victoria (Murdoch). Several prestigious hotels were constructed to provide accommodation for visitors to the international exhibitions in Melbourne. Munro was responsible for building many of the city’s coffee palaces, including the Victoria (1880) and the Federal Coffee Palace (1888) in Collins Street. After establishing the Grand Coffee Palace Company, Munro took over the Grand Hotel (now the Windsor) in 1886. Munro expanded the hotel to accommodate some of the two million visitors who were to attend the Centenary Exhibition, renamed it the Grand Coffee Palace, and ceremoniously burnt its liquor licence at the official opening (Murdoch). By 1888 there were more than 50 coffee palaces in the city of Melbourne alone and Munro held thousands of shares in coffee palaces, including those in Geelong and Broken Hill. With its opening planned to commemorate the centenary of the founding of Australia and the 1888 International Exhibition, the construction of the Federal Coffee Palace, one of the largest hotels in Australia, was perhaps the greatest monument to the temperance movement. Designed in the French Renaissance style, the façade was embellished with statues, griffins and Venus in a chariot drawn by four seahorses. The building was crowned with an iron-framed domed tower. New passenger elevators—first demonstrated at the Sydney Exhibition—allowed the building to soar to seven storeys. According to the Federal Coffee Palace Visitor’s Guide, which was presented to every visitor, there were three lifts for passengers and others for luggage. Bedrooms were located on the top five floors, while the stately ground and first floors contained majestic dining, lounge, sitting, smoking, writing, and billiard rooms. There were electric service bells, gaslights, and kitchens “fitted with the most approved inventions for aiding proficients [sic] in the culinary arts,” while the luxury brand Pears soap was used in the lavatories and bathrooms (16–17). In 1891, a spectacular financial crash brought the economic boom to an abrupt end. The British economy was in crisis and to meet the predicament, English banks withdrew their funds in Australia. There was a wholesale collapse of building companies, mortgage banks and other financial institutions during 1891 and 1892 and much of the banking system was halted during 1893 (Attard). Meanwhile, however, while the eastern States were in the economic doldrums, gold was discovered in 1892 at Coolgardie and Kalgoorlie in Western Australia and, within two years, the west of the continent was transformed. As gold poured back to the capital city of Perth, the long dormant settlement hurriedly caught up and began to emulate the rest of Australia, including the construction of ornately detailed coffee palaces (Freeman 130). By 1904, Perth had 20 coffee palaces. When the No. 2 Coffee Palace opened in Pitt Street, Sydney, in 1880, the Australian Town and Country Journal reported that coffee palaces were “not only fashionable, but appear to have acquired a permanent footing in Sydney” (121). The coffee palace era, however, was relatively short-lived. Driven more by reformist and economic zeal than by good business sense, many were in financial trouble when the 1890’s Depression hit. Leading figures in the temperance movement were also involved in land speculation and building societies and when these schemes collapsed, many, including Munro, were financially ruined. Many of the palaces closed or were forced to apply for liquor licences in order to stay afloat. Others developed another life after the temperance movement’s influence waned and the coffee palace fad faded, and many were later demolished to make way for more modern buildings. The Federal was licensed in 1923 and traded as the Federal Hotel until its demolition in 1973. The Victoria, however, did not succumb to a liquor licence until 1967. The Sydney Coffee Palace in Woolloomooloo became the Sydney Eye Hospital and, more recently, smart apartments. Some fine examples still survive as reminders of Australia’s social and cultural heritage. The Windsor in Melbourne’s Spring Street and the Broken Hill Hotel, a massive three-story iconic pub in the outback now called simply “The Palace,” are some examples. Tea remained the beverage of choice in Australia until the 1950s when the lifting of government controls on the importation of coffee and the influence of American foodways coincided with the arrival of espresso-loving immigrants. As Australians were introduced to the espresso machine, the short black, the cappuccino, and the café latte and (reminiscent of the Enlightenment), the post-war malaise was shed in favour of the energy and vigour of modernist thought and creativity, fuelled in at least a small part by caffeine and the emergent café culture (Teffer). Although the temperance movement’s attempt to provide an alternative to the ubiquitous pubs failed, coffee has now outstripped the consumption of tea and today’s café culture ensures that wherever coffee is consumed, there is the possibility of a continuation of the Enlightenment’s lively discussions, exchange of news, and dissemination of ideas and information in a sober environment. References Attard, Bernard. “The Economic History of Australia from 1788: An Introduction.” EH.net Encyclopedia. 5 Feb. (2012) ‹http://eh.net/encyclopedia/article/attard.australia›. Blainey, Anna. “The Prohibition and Total Abstinence Movement in Australia 1880–1910.” Food, Power and Community: Essays in the History of Food and Drink. Ed. Robert Dare. Adelaide: Wakefield Press, 1999. 142–52. Boyce, Francis Bertie. “Shall I Vote for No License?” An address delivered at the Convention of the Parramatta Branch of New South Wales Alliance, 3 September 1906. 3rd ed. Parramatta: New South Wales Alliance, 1907. Clarke, James Freeman. Coffee Houses and Coffee Palaces in England. Boston: George H. Ellis, 1882. “Coffee Palace, No. 2.” Australian Town and Country Journal. 17 Jul. 1880: 121. Davison, Graeme. “Festivals of Nationhood: The International Exhibitions.” Australian Cultural History. Eds. S. L. Goldberg and F. B. Smith. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1989. 158–77. Denby, Elaine. Grand Hotels: Reality and Illusion. London: Reaktion Books, 2002. Ellis, Markman. The Coffee House: A Cultural History. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2004. Federal Coffee Palace. The Federal Coffee Palace Visitors’ Guide to Melbourne, Its Suburbs, and Other Parts of the Colony of Victoria: Views of the Principal Public and Commercial Buildings in Melbourne, With a Bird’s Eye View of the City; and History of the Melbourne International Exhibition of 1880, etc. Melbourne: Federal Coffee House Company, 1888. Fitzgerald, Ross, and Trevor Jordan. Under the Influence: A History of Alcohol in Australia. Sydney: Harper Collins, 2009. Freeland, John. The Australian Pub. Melbourne: Sun Books, 1977. Johnson’s Temperance Coffee Palace. International Exhibition Visitors Pocket Guide to Sydney, Restaurant and Temperance Hotel. Sydney: Johnson’s Temperance Coffee Palace, 1879. Mitchell, Ann M. “Munro, James (1832–1908).” Australian Dictionary of Biography. Canberra: National Centre of Biography, Australian National U, 2006-12. 5 Feb. 2012 ‹http://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/munro-james-4271/text6905›. Murdoch, Sally. “Coffee Palaces.” Encyclopaedia of Melbourne. Eds. Andrew Brown-May and Shurlee Swain. 5 Feb. 2012 ‹http://www.emelbourne.net.au/biogs/EM00371b.htm›. Muskett, Philip E. The Art of Living in Australia. New South Wales: Kangaroo Press, 1987. Standage, Tom. A History of the World in 6 Glasses. New York: Walker & Company, 2005. Sydney Coffee Palace Hotel Company Limited. Memorandum of Association of the Sydney Coffee Palace Hotel Company, Ltd. Sydney: Samuel Edward Lees, 1879. Symons, Michael. One Continuous Picnic: A Gastronomic History of Australia. Melbourne: Melbourne UP, 2007. Teffer, Nicola. Coffee Customs. Exhibition Catalogue. Sydney: Customs House, 2005.

As never before, women are rightfully in positions of political power, and into the maelstrom of mass media challenges to their fashions and their right to govern. Fraught narratives surround the clothing of women in leadership in Australia, New Zealand, the United Kingdom, the United States, Hong Kong, Taiwan, India, and Indonesia. There is an enduring relationship between women and dress which needs to be examined in regard to how clothing choices inform and articulate the ways in which women remain represented as either suitable or not for public office, how they may be lauded or damned when they are in power. In Women and Power: The Politics of Dress it is argued by several authors that political dress for women in the Asia-Pacific expresses a complex set of political and cultural legacies as it impacts their style of government and appearance. Cultural legacies are, in some cases, determined by choice or rejection of ethnic clothing of the past. When Myanmar leader Aung San Sui-Kyi chose to wear versions of her native costume, she offered the physical appearance of her commitment to government by the people, rather than the military (124). She was deposed from office and imprisoned after a military coup in 2021, and Myanmar currently remains under military rule. Interesting examples of ‘native costume’ in politics include: the former ‘first lady’ of the Philippines, Imelda Marcos, and her use of the classic Filipina ‘butterfly dress’ (122), and former Chief Executive of Hong Kong Carrie Lam’s adoption of the ancient Chinese ‘qipao’ or ‘cheong sam’ (129). Other legacies include the very strict set of attire worn by brides entering the Japanese royal family, and further honorifics as exemplified by the wedding clothes of Princess-by-marriage Masako and her subsequent rise to Empress of Japan (63-72). Contrary to country- and cultural-specific clothing for much of Asia, political dress for women includes the overwhelming impact of western culture on garments through mass media, such as television and films, and more recently, the socials. (130). Theories regarding political attire of non-Western women in leadership risk the notion of ‘stereotyping’ through the Western view of the ‘exoticism’ of women through ‘Oriental costuming’ (121). As noted above, there is a legitimate option for Asian women to select their garments to express both cultural traditions alongside their employment of Westernised or popular fashion, or even haute couture. For instance, more Avant Garde designer clothing was important to former Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto and others (128). Further, clothing worn by women in politics offers the opportunity to express not only the political aspirations of their country and its role in global negotiations. Women politicians' use of distinctive country-based designers in India, Pakistan, Japan, Indonesia, and China (PRC) when on the global stage has been defined as ‘sartorial diplomacy’ (13). Promoting the fashion of one’s native country has also been defined as ‘soft power’ (13). Likewise, the use of ‘native’ or country-centric costume has offered women in leadership to mix a national form of identify politics as befits their nation’s goals (13). Finally, meeting nationalistic goals within the bounds of a culturally-based sense of women’s proper roles in society, i.e. placing family and children first can be challenging, if not impossible, with their own wishes to display their own identity through the adoption of contemporary fashion. Finally, how women leaders dress is subject to critical commentary through mass media and the socials, where appearance takes on a disproportionate level of importance (16). Women who rise to political prominence will need to continue to ‘call out’ inappropriate commentary on their attire that undermines their authority to govern their countries as men have done without question. Excerpted from the following: Denise N. Rall (ed.). Fashion, Women and Power: The Politics of Dress. Bristol: Intellect / Chicago: U of Chicago P, 2022. Author Biography Denise N. Rall, Adjunct Fellow – Research [pending], in Humanities & Social Sciences, Southern Cross University, Lismore NSW, was awarded her PhD in 2007. Since 2008, Denise relocated her academic and artistic interests to fashion and textiles through a critical lens to view the sociology of clothing and its role in society. Latest book: Fashion, Women & Power: The Politics of Dress published in 2022.

This chapter concerns the preparation of the sanctuary movement at La Placita Church in downtown Los Angeles. In 1981, Fr. Olivares was transferred by his order to this church at the same time that thousands of Central Americans entered into the United States seeking refugee status after fleeing civil wars and repression in El Salvador and Guatemala. Fr. Olivares immediately embraced them as children of God and commenced programs at La Placita to assist them. He fed and clothed the refugees, and provided health services, legal services, and other forms of assistance. The most controversial part of this outreach was allowing some of the men to sleep overnight in the church itself. All of these activities prepared the way for Fr. Olivares to formally declare his church a public sanctuary.

Abstract K+ channel See ion channel; action potential; resting membrane potential. Kahlbaum, Karl Ludwig (1828–1899) German psychiatrist; catatonia. Kahlbaum syndrome Nonmalignant catatonia(q.v.). Kahlbaum-Wernicke syndrome Presbyophrenia(q.v.). kayak gene See clock, biological. kaif, kif Pleasure or feeling of contentment and ease, as in a dream or state of ecstasy. The term is used in Morocco to refer to hashish or marijuana (q.v.). kainate An activator of the kainate subtype of EAA (q.v.). See AMPA. Kalinowsky, Lothar B. (1899–1992) German-born neuropsychiatrist; in United States after 1940; electroconvulsive and other somatic treatments. Kallmann, Franz J. (1897–1965) German-born psychoanalyst and geneticist; genetics of human behavior, especially schizophrenia, manic-depressive psychosis. Kalmuk idiocy Obs. (Kalmuk, member of a nomad Tartar tribe) Down syndrome (q.v.). Kandinsky-Clérambault complex See Clérambault-Kandinsky complex. Kanner, Leo (1894–1981) Austrian-born psychiatrist; emigrated to United States in 1924; founded Johns Hopkins Children ‘s Psychiatric Clinic (1930); wrote first text in Child Psychiatry (1935); early infantile autism. Kardiner, Abraham (1891–1981) Cofounder of first psychoanalytic training school in the United States (1930); The Individual and His Society (1939); Psychological Frontiers of Society (1945). Karpman Drama Triangle A conceptualization of traumatic experiences in terms of victim, rescuer, and persecutor. Originally suggested as one way of viewing intrafamilial dynamics of alcoholics and their families, it has since been extended to other disorders, such as dissociative identity disorder (DID).

Many towns in the United States play host to afterschool musical theatre programs for children. Typically, these programs are directed by women who become well known in their communities and powerful figures in the lives of the children they teach. This chapter calls this figure a “backstage diva.” She is the female musical theatre director who runs afterschool and summer pay-to-play programs, teaching kids dance and theatre by directing them in several shows a year. This familiar figure is a disciplined leader and powerful mentor who, though invisible in theatre history, teaches musical theatre–obsessed kids to sing and dance and act and shapes them into triple-threat performers. This chapter begin with a brief biography of a backstage diva, including how she built her business. It then offers a history of musical theatre studios in the United States. The bulk of the chapter follows the working process of a backstage diva in northern California from auditions through rehearsals and performance. Finally, it explains her legacy and what kids say they learned from her.

The framed black-and-white photograph on my wall is entitled “The Temptation of David.” It captures a young woman perched on a stump, hiking boots dangling, wet hair and flowered cotton shirt and khakis slightly damp, holding an apple with one bite missing. Standing next to her is the David in question. Behind them is the Leopold Shack, easily recognizable to any who have been there. My husband-to-be, David Mataya, and I had just snuck back to the Shack, after a quick, crazy, unguarded dip in the river. I was young, in love with David and in love with Leopold (of whom I was writing a biography for children), and completely entranced by this piece of land so lovingly restored to its natural state. I have returned numerous other times. I came the spring after Nina had died, when I was working on a religious ecology project. I was hoping, like Art Hawkins, that it would help wake up people about the Judeo-Christian call from Genesis to care for this earth and all its creatures—which God had called “good”—and to help heal this world of many ecological wounds. The project had completely stalled, and like a pilgrim, I needed to stop at the Shack. I ended up in the sand near the river, weeping. The birds in all tones and rhythms calling from tree to tree, the multitude of different trees and bushes, the flowing river, and even the small draba called forth hope. I see the draba, in its small perennial patience, has proved right. In 2014, Pope Francis issued an encyclical, or major Catholic Church teaching, not just to Catholics, but to the world, on the religious, spiritual, social, ethical, and economic reasons on why our must change its ways, just as Leopold once did, but from the perspective of faith. And he has followed this up with visits to the United States Congress and the United Nations to emphasize the need to deal immediately with climate change.