Добірка наукової літератури з теми "Mary Kathleen Group"

-Swithin Wilmot, Rupert Charles Lewis, Walter Rodney's intellectual and political thought. Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1988. xvii + 298 pp.-Peter Wade, Robin D. Moore, Nationalizing blackness: Afrocubanismo and artistic revolution in Havana, 1920-1940. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1997. xiii + 322 pp.-Matt D. Childs, Ada Ferrer, Insurgent Cuba: Race, nation, and revolution, 1868-1898. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1999. xiii + 273 pp.-Luis Martínez-Fernández, Joan Casanovas, Bread, or bullets! Urban labor and Spanish colonialism in Cuba, 1850-1898. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press,1998. xiii + 320 pp.-Gert J. Oostindie, Oscar Zanetti ,Sugar and railroads: A Cuban history, 1837-1959. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1998. xxviii + 496 pp., Alejandro García (eds)-Kelvin Santiago-Valles, Teresita Martínez-Vergne, Shaping the discourse on space: Charity and its wards in nineteenth-century San Juan, Puerto Rico. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1999. xv + 234 pp.-Rosemarijn Hoefte, Madhavi Kale, Fragments of empire: Capital, slavery, and Indian indentured labor migration in the British Caribbean. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1998. 236 pp.-Catherine Benoît, Jean Benoist, Hindouismes créoles - Mascareignes, Antilles. Paris: Éditions du CTHS, 1998. 303 pp.-Christine Ho, Walton Look Lai, The Chinese in the West Indies 1806-1995: A documentary history. The Press University of the West Indies, 1998. xxxii + 338 pp.-James Walvin, Roger Norman Buckley, The British Army in the West Indies: Society and the military in the revolutionary age. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 1998. 464 pp.-Rosanne M. Adderley, Howard Johnson, The Bahamas from slavery to servitude, 1783-1933. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 1996. xviii + 218 pp.-Mary Turner, Shirley C. Gordon, Our cause for his glory: Christianisation and emancipation in Jamaica. Kingston: The Press University of the West Indies, 1998. xviii + 152 pp.-Kris Lane, Hans Turley, Rum, sodomy, and the lash: Piracy, sexuality, and masculine identity. New York: New York University Press, 1999. lx + 199 pp.-Jonathan Schorsch, Eli Faber, Jews, slaves, and the slave trade: Setting the record straight. New York: New York University Press, 1998. xvii + 367 pp.-Bonham C. Richardson, Bridget Brereton ,The Colonial Caribbean in transition: Essays on postemancipation social and cultural history. Barbados: The Press University of the West Indies; Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 1999. xxiii + 319 pp., Kevin A. Yelvington (eds)-Ransford W. Palmer, Thomas Klak, Globalization and neoliberalism: The Caribbean context. New York: Rowman and Littlefield, 1998. xxiv + 319 pp.-Susan Saegert, Robert B. Potter ,Self-help housing, the poor, and the state in the Caribbean. Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1997. xiv + 299 pp., Dennis Conway (eds)-Peter Redfield, Michèle-Baj Strobel, Les gens de l'or: Mémoire des orpailleurs créoles du Maroni. Petit-Bourg, Guadeloupe: Ibis Rouge, 1998. 400 pp.-Donald R. Hill, Louis Regis, The political calypso: True opposition in Trinidad and Tobago 1962-1987. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 1999. xv + 277 pp.-A. James Arnold, Christiane P. Makward, Mayotte Capécia ou l'aliénation selon Fanon. Paris: Karthala, 1999. 230 pp.-Chris Bongie, Celia M. Britton, Edouard Glissant and postcolonial theory: Strategies of language and resistance. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1999. xiv + 224 pp.-Chris Bongie, Anne Malena, The negotiated self: The dynamics of identity in Francophone Caribbean narrative. New York: Peter Lang, 1999. x + 192 pp.-Catherine A. John, Kathleen M. Balutansky ,Caribbean creolization: Reflections on the cultural dynamics of language, literature, and identity., Marie-Agnès Sourieau (eds)-Leland Ferguson, Jay B. Haviser, African sites archaeology in the Caribbean. Princeton NJ: Markus Wiener; Kingston: Ian Randle, 1999. xiii + 364 pp.-Edward M. Dew, Peter Meel, Tussen autonomie en onafhankelijkheid: Nederlands-Surinaamse betrekkingen 1954-1961. Leiden NL: KITLV Press, 1999. xiv + 450 pp.-Edo Haan, Theo E. Korthals Altes, Koninkrijk aan zee: De lange vlucht van liefde in het Caribisch-Nederlandse bestuur. Zutphen: Walburg Pers. 208 pp.-Richard Price, Ellen-Rose Kambel ,The rights of indigenous people and Maroons in Suriname. Copenhagen: International work group for indigenous affairs; Moreton-in-Marsh, U.K.: The Forest Peoples Programme, 1999. 206 pp., Fergus Mackay (eds)

Abstract Background: In the United States, approximately 41,600 new cases of prostate cancer will be diagnosed in Black/African American men in 2022. Lifestyle can impact cancer survivorship, including recurrence risk, comorbidity burden and quality of life. The American Cancer Society has set physical activity and nutrition guidelines for cancer survivors that include plant-based eating and regular physical activity and strength training. However, many cancer survivors are unaware of these guidelines, and they often face challenges in adopting such behaviors. Men Moving Forward (MMF) is among the first community-based lifestyle intervention developed with and for African American Prostate Cancer Survivors (AAPCS). This study examines the diet and physical activity patterns of MMF participants at baseline. Methods: MMF is a 16-week group-based lifestyle intervention, led by local health coaches. Men complete surveys and physical assessments at baseline, post-intervention and at a 12-month follow-up. The VioScreen Food Frequency Questionnaire (FFQ) was used to obtain dietary intake and diet quality scores for participants at baseline. The Healthy Eating Index-2015 (HEI-2015) is used to assess adherence to the Dietary Guidelines for Americans (DGA) 2015-2020. Baseline HEI-2015 scores of men in the Multiethnic Cohort Study (MEC) were used to provide a population-based comparison. We also examined how many men received an HEI-2015 total score >80, reflecting an ideal diet for reducing premature death and chronic disease risk. Physical activity was measured using the Godin Leisure-Time Exercise Questionnaire (Godin) with an item added to query on frequency of strength training. Results: At baseline of MMF, 80 AAPCS completed the FFQ and 83 AAPCS completed the Godin. MMF participants had a mean age of 66.4 ± 6.86, 49.4% were married/living with a partner, and had varying incomes and education levels. Top comorbidities include hypertension (71%), obesity (51%), diabetes (31%), and hypercholesterolemia (48%). MMF participants had lower total HEI-2015 scores than MEC study men with average scores of 60.3 ± 11.0 and 65.6 ± 10.3, respectively. About half of the HEI-2015 component scores were similar between MMF and MEC participants. However, MMF participants reported 1 or more points higher component scores for “dairy” and “refined grains”, and 1 or more points lower scores for “seafood & plant proteins”, “fatty acids”, “sodium”, and “saturated fats” than their MEC counterparts. Although AAPCS in MMF reported similar HEI-2015 scores to typical American men, only 3 of the 80 AABCS at baseline reported HEI-2015 scores >80, highlighting a need for diet quality improvement. At baseline, 40% of participants were considered active and 33% reported strength training at least twice weekly. Conclusion: Data reflect the value of supporting AAPCS in lifestyle changes to improve dietary quality, physical activity and strength training. Few efforts have addressed lifestyle among AAPCS, despite high prostate cancer burden. Future reports will examine the efficacy of MMF. Citation Format: Margaret Y. Tovar, Patricia Sheean, Paula Papanek, Alexis Visotcky, Lola Awoyinka, Anjishnu Banerjee, Kathryn Bylow, Deepak Kilari, Kathryn Flynn, Toni Uhrich, Sophia Aboagye, Sandra Contreras, Kathleen Jensik, Melinda Stolley. Diet quality and physical activity of African American prostate cancer survivors at baseline of Men Moving Forward, a lifestyle intervention program [abstract]. In: Proceedings of the 15th AACR Conference on the Science of Cancer Health Disparities in Racial/Ethnic Minorities and the Medically Underserved; 2022 Sep 16-19; Philadelphia, PA. Philadelphia (PA): AACR; Cancer Epidemiol Biomarkers Prev 2022;31(1 Suppl):Abstract nr B032.

BackgroundPatient-Reported Outcome Measures (PROMs) give us direct, immediate evidence of patient experience. Pain is a chronic, debilitating, multifactorial, presenting symptom that remains a difficult target to treat in populations with Inflammatory Arthritides.1 Increasingly, cannabis products are being utilized and investigated for their potential analgesic and immune-modulatory effects.2 The legislation and form of cannabis products deployed as therapy varies around the world and across populations. More data on usage and patient reported outcomes is needed to guide better clinical practice and inform sound legislative policy.ObjectivesTo describe PROMs of pain, stiffness with cannabis use in a population of patients with Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA) or Psoriatic Arthritis (PsA).MethodsThis investigation was a monocentric, cross-sectional study. Inclusion criteria were adults receiving care at a University Rheumatology practice in Central Florida, USA from December 2019 to March 2020 who provided informed, written consent. Those who consented were provided with a brief, voluntary, and anonymous Qualtrics survey which queried patient-reported prevalence and outcome measures of short and long-term pain relief. 236 RA and 43 PsA patients were enrolled in this study. All subjects met the criteria for Rheumatoid, Psoriatic, or Inflammatory Arthritis (seronegative RA). Subjects’ scores before and after cannabinoid use were compared with a paired T-test after the parametric nature of the data was established. Ethical approval was obtained from the University of Central Florida Institutional Review Board (Study00001041).ResultsCannabis product usage was reported in 16.95% of RA subjects (40/236) and 11.63% of PsA subjects (5/43). Of this group, 71% (RA) and 40% (PsA) endorsed current usage. Inhalation was the most prevalent form used in RA (27.50%). In PsA, the most commonly reported forms were liquid (30%) and topical/skin (30%). On the 10-point pain scale, RA patients reported a significant reduction in average pain by 1.83±1.91 points in the long-term and 2.28±2.10 points in the short-term. Those with PsA reported a significant reduction in average pain by 1.60±0.89 points in the long-term and 1.80±0.84 points in the short term. Stiffness was also reduced in the RA group (7.3%). 17.5% of patients with RA using cannabinoids reported side effects not leading to cessation.ConclusionIn an academic rheumatology practice population, a substantial number of RA and PsA patients are choosing to self-treat with cannabis therapy to manage their pain and other symptoms. Subjects reported significant reductions in both short- and long-term pain; some patients reported total pain resolution with ongoing cannabinoid therapy. Stiffness was also reduced in a subset of RA patients. Subjects that reported adverse effects did not find these severe enough to warrant cessation. These study results may allow for a more open discussion to improve safety and optimize outcomes. Additionally, the significant prevalence of usage and pain reduction reported provide a compelling rationale for further interventional studies in populations with Inflammatory Arthritides.References[1]Scott DL, Wolfe F, Huizinga TW. Rheumatoid arthritis. Lancet. 2010;376(9746): 1094-1108. doi: 10.1016/s0140-6736(10)60826-4.[2]Fitzcharles, Mary-Ann et al. “Position Statement: A Pragmatic Approach for Medical Cannabis and Patients with Rheumatic Diseases.” The Journal of Rheumatology vol. 46,5 (2019): 532-538. doi:10.3899/jrheum.181120.Disclosure of InterestsTara Jehu: None declared, Neha Bhaskar: None declared, Shazia Beg: None declared, Kathlyn Camargo Macias: None declared, Sweta Chalise: None declared, Neha Bhanusali Consultant of: healthcare consultant (non-pharmaceutical)

Ray Beverton was born on the 29 August 1922, the only child of Edgar John Beverton and Dorothy Sybil Mary Beverton. His father was a commercial artist and his mother, too, came from an artistic family; indeed an ancestor was Sir Thomas Heaphy, a portrait painter and official war artist at Waterloo. Another forebear won the V.C. As a young child Ray acquired enthusiasms for music, fishing and football, activities which were dear to him throughout his life; in later years he became very fond of sailing. He was a regular supporter of West Ham United - the Hammers - until he moved to Swindon. When eight years old he entered his first angling competition and in later life he rarely took a holiday or trip abroad without his fishing rods. He went to school at the Forest School, Snaresbrook and then to Downing College, Cambridge (1940-42), where he read physics, chemistry and mathematics in Part I of the Natural Sciences Tripos. Between 1942 and 1945 he worked at the Operational Research Group developing polystyrene and latex for the insulation of coaxial cables for radar. During this time he retained his links with Cambridge and when in 1945, Michael Graham, the newly appointed Director of Fisheries Research, asked his former tutor, Sir James Gray, F.R.S, for an able young graduate to extend his studies on the exploitation of the North Sea cod (Graham 1935, 1938 a ), Ray was introduced to him. Ray wrote ‘I first met Michael Graham in the late summer of 1945 in a small space carved out of the racks of dusty files in St Stephen’s House. He gave me a copy of his book, The Fish Gate (Graham 1943). Within a month he took me with him on a Grimsby trawler to the Barents Sea fishing grounds’ (1)*. Ray suffered badly from sea sickness and wrote three letters of resignation, which fortunately he did not send. He spent a year in Lowestoft from 1945-46. During this time he wrote the first chapter of Graham’s Buckland lecture (2), one of a series which are given from time to time by scientists to audiences of fishermen; both Ray and Michael used the English language well, if differently. The amalgam is a delightful study of Frank Buckland, one of the ancestors of fisheries research. In 1946, Ray returned to Cambridge to read zoology in Part II of the Tripos and he gained the top first class degree in his year and the Smart Prize for zoology; he also won a Blue for soccer. He returned to Lowestoft in 1947 and married Kathleen Edith Marner the same year. They had three daughters, Susan, Valerie and Julia. *Numbers in this form refer to the bibliography at the end of the text.

Hidden away at the ends of streets, behind suburban parks and community assets, there remain remnants of the coastal wallum heathlands that once stretched from Caloundra to Noosa, in Queensland, Australia. From late July to September, these areas explode with colour, a springtime wonderland of white wedding bush, delicate ground orchids, the pastels and brilliance of pink boronias, purple irises, and the diverse profusion of yellow bush peas. These gifts of nature are still relatively unknown and unappreciated, with most locals, and Australians at large, having little knowledge of the remarkable nature of the wallum, the nutrient-poor sandy soil that can be almost as acidic as battery acid, but which sustains a finely tuned ecosystem that, once cleared, cannot be regrown. These heathlands and woodlands, previously commonplace beyond the beach dunes of the coastal region, are now only found in a number of national parks and reserves, and suburban remnants.Image 1: The author wildflowering and making art (Photo: Judy Barrass)I too was one of those who had no idea of the joys of the wallum and heathland wildflowers, but it was the creative works of Kathleen McArthur and Judith Wright that helped initiate my education, my own wanderings, wildflowering, and love. Learning country has been a multi-faceted experience, extended and tested as walking becomes an embodied encounter, bodies and landscapes entwined (Lund), an imaginative reimagining, creative act and source of inspiration, a form of pilgrimage (Morrison), forging an intimate relationship (Somerville).Image 2: Women wildflowering next to Rainbow Beach (Photo: Susan Davis)Wandering—the experience shares some similar characteristics to walking, but may have less of a sense of direction and destination. It may become an experience that is relational, contemplative, connected to place. Wandering may be transitory but with impact that resonates across years. Such is the case of wandering for McArthur and Wright; the experience became deeply relational but also led to a destabilisation of values, where the walking body became “entangled in monumental historical and social structures” (Heddon and Turner). They called their walking and wandering “wildflowering”. Somerville said of the term: “Wildflowering was a word they created to describe their passion for Australian wildflower and their love of the places where they found them” (Somerville 2). However, wildflowering was also very much about the experience of wandering within nature, of the “art of seeing”, of learning and communing, but also of “doing”.Image 3: Kathleen McArthur and Judith Wright “wildflowering” north of Lake Currimundi. (Photo: Alex Jelinek, courtesy Alexandra Moreno)McArthur defined and described going wildflowering as meaningdifferent things to different people. There are those who, with magnifying glass before their eyes, looking every inch the scientist, count stamens, measure hairs, pigeon-hole all the definitive features neatly in order and scoff at common names. Others bring with them an artistic inclination, noting the colours and shapes and shadows in the intimate and in the general landscape. Then there are those precious few who find poetry in a Helmut Orchid “leaning its ear to the ground”; see “the trigger-flower striking the bee”; find secrets in Sun Orchids; see Irises as “lilac butterflies” and a fox in a Yellow Doubletail…There are as many different ways to approach the “art of seeing” as there are people who think and feel and one way is as worthy as any other to make of it an enjoyably sensuous experience… (McArthur, Australian Wildflowers 52-53)Wildflowering thus extends far beyond the scientific collector and cataloguer of nature; it is about walking and wandering within nature and interacting with it; it is a richly layered experience, an “art”, “a sensuous experience”, “an artistic inclination” where perception may be framed by the poetic.Their wildflowering drove McArthur and Wright to embark on monumental struggles. They became the voice for the voiceless lifeforms within the environment—they typed letters, organised meetings, lobbied politicians, and led community groups. In fact, they often had to leave behind the environments and places that brought them joy to use the tools of culture to protest and protect—to ensure we might be able to appreciate them today. Importantly, both their creativity and the activism were fuelled by the same wellspring: walking, wandering, and wildflowering.Women Wandering and WildfloweringWhen McArthur and Wright met in the early 1950s, they shared some similarities in terms of relatively privileged social backgrounds, their year of birth (1915), and a love of nature. They both had houses named after native plants (“Calanthe” for Wright’s house at Tambourine, “Midyim” for McArthur’s house at Caloundra), and were focussed on their creative endeavours—Wright with her poetry, McArthur with her wildflower painting and writing. Wright was by then well established as a highly regarded literary figure on the Australian scene. Her book of poetry The Moving Image (1946) had been well received, and later publications further consolidated her substance and presence on the national literary landscape. McArthur had been raised as the middle daughter of a prominent Queensland family; her father was Daniel Evans, of Evans Deakin Industries, and her mother “Kit” was a daughter of one of the pastoral Durack clan. Kathleen had married and given birth to three children, but by the 1950s was exploring new futures and identities, having divorced her husband and made a home for her family at Caloundra on Queensland’s Sunshine Coast. She had time and space in her life to devote to her own pursuits and some financial means provided through her inheritance to finance such endeavours.Wright and McArthur met in 1951 after McArthur sent Wright a children’s book for Judith and Jack McKinney’s daughter Meredith. The book was by McArthur’s cousins, Mary Durack (of Kings in Grass Castles fame) and Elizabeth Durack. Wright subsequently invited McArthur to visit her at Tambourine and from that visit their friendship quickly blossomed. While both women were to become known as high-profile nature lovers and conservationists, Wright acknowledges that it was McArthur who helped “train her eye” and cultivated her appreciation of the wildflowers of south-east Queensland:There are times in one’s past which remain warm and vivid, and can be taken out and looked at, so to speak, with renewed pleasure. Such, for me, were my first meetings in the early 1950s with Kathleen McArthur, and our continuing friendship. They brought me joys of discovery, new knowledge, and shared appreciation. Those “wild-flowering days” at Tamborine Mountain, Caloundra, Noosa or Lake Cootharaba, when I was able to wander with her, helped train my own eye a little to her ways of seeing and her devotion to the flowers of the coast, the mountains, and the wallum plains and swamps. (Wright quoted in McArthur, Australian Wildflowers 7)It was through this wandering and wildflowering that their friendship was forged, their knowledge of the plants and landscape grew and their passion was ignited. These acts of wandering were ones where feelings and the senses were engaged and celebrated. McArthur was to document her experiences of these environments through her wildflower paintings, cards, prints, weekly articles in the local newspapers, and books featuring Queensland and Australian Wildflowers (McArthur, Queensland Wildflowers; Living; Bush; Australian Wildflowers). Wright wrote a range of poems featuring landscapes and flora from the coastal experiences and doubtless influenced by their wildflowering experiences. These included, for example, Judith Wright’s poems “Wildflower Plain”, “Wonga Vine”, “Nameless Flower”, and “Sandy Swamp” (Collected Works).Through these acts of wildflowering, walking, and wandering, McArthur and Wright were drawn into activism and became what I call “wild/flower” women: women who cared for country, who formed a deep connection and intimate relationship with nature, with the more-than-human world; women who saw themselves not separate from nature but part of the great cycles of life, growth, death, and renewal; women whose relationship to the country, to the wildflowers and other living things was expressed through drawing, painting, poetry, stories, and performances—but that love driving them also to actions—actions to nurture and protect those wildflowers, places, and living things. This intimate relationship with nature was such that it inspired them to become “wild”, at times branded difficult, prompted to speak out, and step up to assume high profile roles on the public stage—and all because of their love of the small, humble, and often unseen.Wandering into Activism A direct link between “wildflowering” and activism can be identified in key experiences from 1953. That was the year McArthur devoted to “wildflowering”, visiting locations across the Sunshine Coast and South-East Queensland, documenting all that was flowering at different times of the year (McArthur, Living 15). She kept a monthly journal and also engaged in extensive drawing and painting. She was joined by Wright and her family for some of these trips, including one that would become a “monumental” expedition. They explored the area around Noosa and happened to climb to the top of Mt Tinbeerwah. Unlike many of the other volcanic plugs of the Sunshine Coast that would not be an easy climb for a family with young children, Tinbeerwah is a small volcanic peak, close to the road that runs between Cooroy and Tewantin, and one that is a relatively easy walk. From the car park, the trail takes you over volcanic lava flows, a pathway appearing, disappearing, winding through native grasses, modest height trees and to the edge of a dramatic cliff (one now popular with abseilers and adventurers). The final stretch brings you out above the trees to stunning 360-degree views, other volcanic peaks, a string of lakes and waterways, the patchwork greens of farmlands, distant blue oceans, and an expanse of bushland curving north for miles. Both women wrote about the experience and its subsequent significance: When Meredith was four years old, Kathleen McArthur, who was a great wildflower enthusiast and had become a good friend, invited us to join her on a wildflower expedition to the sand-plains north of Noosa. There the Noosa River spread itself out into sand-bottomed lakes between which the river meandered so slowly that everywhere the sky was serenely mirrored in it, trees hung low over it, birds haunted them.Kathleen took her little car, we took our converted van, and drove up the narrow unsealed road beyond Noosa. Once through the dunes—where the low bush-cover was white with wedding-bush and yellow with guinea-flower vines—the plains began, with many and mingled colours and scents. It was spring, and it welcomed us joyfully. (Wright, Half 279-280)McArthur also wrote about this event and its importance, as they both realised that this was territory that was worth protecting for posterity: ‘it was obvious that this was great wildflower country in addition to having a fascinating system of sand mass with related river and lakes. It would make a unique national park’ (McArthur, Living 53). After this experience, Kathleen and Judith began initial inquiries to find out about how to progress ideas for forming a national park (McArthur, Living). Brady affirms that it was Kathleen who first “broached the idea of agitating to have the area around Cooloola declared a National Park” (Brady 182), and it was Judith who then made inquiries in Brisbane on their way back to Mount Tambourine:Judith took the idea to Romeo Lahey of the National Parks Association who told her it was not threatened in any way whereas there were important areas of rainforest that were, and his association gave priority to those. If he had but known, it was threatened. The minerals sands prospectors were about to arrive, if not already in there. (McArthur, Living 53)These initial investigations were put on hold as the pair pursued their “private lives” and raised their children (McArthur, Living), but reignited throughout the 1960s. In 1962, McArthur and Wright were to become founding members of the Wildlife Preservation Society of Queensland (along with David Fleay and Brian Clouston), and Cooloola was to become one of one of their major campaigns (McArthur, Living 32). This came to the fore when they discovered there were multiple sand mining leases pending across the Cooloola region. It was at McArthur’s suggestion that a national postcard campaign was launched in 1969, with their organisation sending over 100,000 postcards across Australia to then be sent back to Joh Bjelke Peterson, the notoriously pro-development, conservative Queensland Premier. This is acknowledged as Australia’s first postcard campaign and was reported in national newspapers; The Australian called the Caloundra branch of WPSQ one of the “most militant cells” in Australia (25 May 1970). This was likely because of the extent of the WPSQ communications across media channels and persistence in taking on high profile critics, including the mining companies.It was to be another five years of campaigning before the national park was declared in 1975 (then named Cooloola National Park, now part of the Great Sandy). Wright was to then leave Queensland to live on a property near Braidwood (on the Southern Tablelands of New South Wales) and in a different political climate. However, McArthur stayed in Caloundra, maintaining her deep commitment to place and country, keeping on walking and wandering, painting, and writing. She campaigned to protect beach dunes, lobbied to have Pumicestone Passage added to the national heritage register (McArthur, Pumicestone), and fought to prevent the creation of canal estates on the Pumicestone passage. Following the pattern of previous campaigns, she engaged in detailed research, drawing on expertise nationally and internationally, and writing many submissions, newspaper columns, and letters.McArthur also advocated for the plants, the places, and forms of knowing that she loved, calling for “clear thinking and deep feeling” that would enable people to see, value, and care as she did, notably saying:Because our flowers have never settled into our consciousness they are not seen. People can drive through square miles of colourful, massed display of bloom and simply not see it. It is only when the mind opens that the flowers bloom. (McArthur, Bush 2)Her belief was that once you walked the country and could “see”, become familiar with, and fall in love with the wildflowers and their environment, you could not then stand by and see what you love destroyed. Her conservation activities and activism arose and was fed through her wildflowering and the deep knowledge and connections that were formed.Wildflowering and Wanderings of My OwnSo, what we can learn from McArthur and Wright, from our wild/flower women, their wanderings, and wildflowering?Over the past few years, I have walked the wallum country that they loved, recited their poetry, shared their work with others, walked with women in the present accompanied by resonances of the past. I have shared these experiences with friends, artists, and nature lovers. While wandering with one group of women one day, we discovered that a patch of wallum behind Sunshine Beach was due to be cleared for an aged care development. It is full of casuarina food trees visited by the endangered Glossy Black Cockatoos, but it is also full of old wallum banksias, a tree I have come to love, influenced in part by writing and art by McArthur, and my experiences of “wildflowering”.Banksia aemula—the wallum banksia—stands tall, often one of the tallest trees of our coastal heathlands and after which the wallum was named. A range of sources, including McArthur herself, identify the source of the tree’s name as an Aboriginal word:It is an Aboriginal word some say applied to all species of Banksia, and others say to Banksia aemula. The wallum, being up to the present practically useless for commercial purposes provides our best wildflower shows… (McArthur, Queensland Wildflowers 2)Gnarled, textured bark—soft grey and warm red browns, in parts almost fur—the flower heads, when young, feed the small birds and honeyeaters; the bees collect nectar to make honey. And the older heads—remnants on the ground left by glorious black cockatoos, whose beaks, the perfect pliers, crack pods open to recover the hidden seeds. In summer, as the new flowers burst open, every stage of the flower stem cycle is on show. The trees often stand together like familiar friends gossiping, providing shelter; they are protective, nurturing. Banksia aemula is a tree that, according to Thomas Petrie’s reminiscence of “early” Queensland, was significant to Aboriginal women, and might be “owned” by certain women:but certain men and women owned different fruit or flower-trees and shrubs. For instance, a man could own a bon-yi (Auaurcaria Bidwilli) tree, and a woman a minti (Banksia aemula)… (Petrie, Reminiscences 148)Banksia, wallum, women… the connection has existed for millennia. Women walking country, talking, observing, collecting, communing—and this tree was special to them as it has become for me. Who knows how old those trees are in that patch of forest and who may have been their custodians.Do I care about this? Yes, I do. How did I come to care? Through walking, through “wildflowering”, through stories, art, and experience. My connections have been forged by nature and culture, seeing McArthur’s art and reading Wright’s words, through walking the country with women, learning to know, and sharing a wildflowering culture. But knowing isn’t enough: wandering and wondering, has led to something more because now I care; now we must act. Along with some of the women I walked with, we have investigated council records; written to, and called, politicians and the developer; formed a Facebook group; met with various experts; and proposed alternatives. However, our efforts have not met with success as the history of the development application and approval was old and complex. Through wandering and “wildflowering”, we have had the opportunity to both lose ourselves and find ourselves, to escape, to learn, to discover. However, such acts are not necessarily aimless or lacking direction. As connections are forged, care and concern grows, and acts can shift from the humble and mundane, into the intentional and deliberate. The art of seeing and poetic perceptions may even transform into ecological action, with ramifications that can be both significant monumental. Such may be the power of “wildflowering”.ReferencesBrady, Veronica. South of My Days: A Biography of Judith Wright. Sydney: Angus & Robertson, 1998.Heddon, Deirdre and Cathy Turner. “Walking Women: Shifting the Tales and Scales of Mobility.” Contemporary Theatre Review 22.2 (2012): 224–236.Lund, Katrín. “Landscapes and Narratives: Compositions and the Walking Body.” Landscape Research 37.2 (2012): 225–237.McArthur, Kathleen. Queensland Wildflowers: A Selection. Brisbane: Jacaranda Press, 1959.———. The Bush in Bloom: A Wildflower Artist’s Year in Paintings and Words. Sydney: Kangaroo Press, 1982.———. Pumicestone Passage: A Living Waterway. Caloundra: Kathleen McArthur, 1978.———. Looking at Australian Wildflowers. Sydney: Kangaroo Press, 1986.———. Living on the Coast. Sydney: Kangaroo Press, 1989.Morrison, Susan Signe. “Walking as Memorial Ritual: Pilgrimage to the Past.” M/C Journal 21.4 (2018). 12 Aug. 2019 <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/index.php/mcjournal/article/view/1437>.Petrie, Constance Campbell, and Tom Petrie. Tom Petrie’s Reminiscences of Early Queensland. 4th ed. Brisbane: University of Queensland Press, 1992. Somerville, Margaret. Wildflowering: The Life and Places of Kathleen McArthur. Brisbane: University of Queensland Press, 2004.Wright, Judith. Collected Poems: 1942 to 1985. Sydney: Harper Collins, 2016.———. Half a Lifetime. Melbourne: Text Publishing, 1999.

This single and critical case study evaluated a faith-based natural family planning program's salient features using a framework on implementation fidelity. Multiple focus group discussions were conducted, with three groups of stakeholders (n=100), to gather qualitative data on their knowledge and experience of the program. Overall, the findings showed that the program primarily adhered to the essential elements of implementation fidelity, such as content, frequency, duration, and coverage prescribed by its designers. Three lessons were drawn to address some issues that have influenced the degree of fidelity in which the program was implemented. The first is the need to secure adequate and sustained human and financial resources. The second is the need to strengthen its partnership with government and non-government organizations that have provided them with much-needed assistance. Finally, there is also the need to provide extensive training, materials, and support to its service providers to preserve their morale and interest. Other faith-based organizations may hold this case as an indicator of how and why an NFP program works and the extent to which the need for family planning can be met adapted to their local conditions and needs. References Arbuckle, Gerald A. Refounding the Church: Dissent for Leadership. Quezon City: Claretian Publications. 1993. Arevalo, Marcos. "Expanding the Availability and improving the delivery of natural family planning services and fertility awareness education: providers' perspectives. Adv Contracept. Jun-Sep 1997; 13(2-3):275-81. Arévalo, Marcos, Victoria Jennings, and Irit Sinai. "Efficacy of a new method of family planning: the Standard Days Method." Contraception 65, no. 5 (2002): 333-338.Arévalo, Marcos, Irit Sinai, and Victoria Jennings. "A fixed formula to define the fertile window of the menstrual cycle as the basis of a simple method of natural family planning." Contraception 60, no. 6 (1999): 357-360. Atun, Jenna (2013). Religiosity and Contraceptive Use among Filipino Youth. Philippine Center for Population and Development. (2013) Accessed April 15, 2019, from http://www.pcpd.ph/.../religiosity-and-contraceptive-use- Authority, P. S. ICF Philippines national demographic and health survey 2017. Quezon City, Philippines, and Rockville, Maryland, USA: PSA and ICF, 2018. Authority, Philippine Statistics. "Philippine statistics authority." Accessed from Philippine Statistics Authority Web site: https://psa. gov. ph/vegetable-root-crops-main/tomato (2018). Authority, P. S. “Philippine statistics authority.” Accessed July 20, 2019, from Philippine Statistics Authority Web site: https://psa. gov. ph/vegetable-root-crops-main/tomato.(2016) Authority, P. S. “ICF Philippines national demographic and health survey.” Quezon City, Philippines, and Rockville, Maryland, USA: PSA and ICF, 2017. Bamber, John, Stella Owens, Heino Schonfeld, Deborah Ghate, and Deirdre Fullerton. "Effective Community Development Programmes: a review of the international evidence base." (2010). Barden-O'Fallon, Janine. "Availability of family planning services and quality of counseling by faith-based organizations: a three-country comparative analysis." Reproductive health, 14, no. 1 (2017): 57. Baskarada, Sasa. "Qualitative case study guidelines." The Qualitative Report 19, no. 40 (2014): 1-25. Accessed July 25, 2019, from http://www.nova.edu/ssss/QR/QR19/baskarada24.pdf Beaubien, Louis, and Daphne Rixon. "Key performance indicators in co-operatives: directions and principles." Journal of Co-operative Studies 45, no. 2 (2012): 5-15. Booker, Victoria K., June Grube Robinson, Bonnie J. Kay, Lourdes Gutierrez Najera, and Genevieve Stewart. "Changes in empowerment: Effects of participation in a lay health promotion program." Health Education & Behavior 24, no. 4 (1997): 452-464. Breitenstein, Susan M., Deborah Gross, Christine A. Garvey, Carri Hill, Louis Fogg, and Barbara Resnick. "Implementation fidelity in community‐based interventions." Research in nursing & health 33, no. 2 (2010): 164-173. Carroll, Christopher, Malcolm Patterson, Stephen Wood, Andrew Booth, Jo Rick, and Shashi Balain. "A conceptual framework for implementation fidelity." Implementation Science 2, no. 1 (2007): 40. Casterline, J.B., A.E. Perez & A.E. Biddlecom. “Factors Affecting Unmet Need for FP in the Philippines," “Studies in Family Planning, (1997). (3):173-191. Accessed November 02, 2019, from http://www.jstor.org/stable/2137886. Catholic Bishops' Conference of the Philippines. (2011). Guiding Principles of Population Control. Accessed September 27, 2019, from www.cbcponline.net/ Catholic Church. Bishops' Conference of the Philippines. (1992). Acts and Decrees of the Second Plenary Council of the Philippines. Catholic Bishops' Conference of the Philippines. Catholic Bishops' Conference of the Philippines. (1990). A Pastoral Letter on the Population Control Activities of the Philippine Government and Planned Parenthood Association. Accessed November 24, 2019, from cbcponline.net/v2/?p=324. Cleland, John, and Kazuyo Machiyama. "Unmet need for family planning: past achievements and remaining challenges." In Seminars in reproductive medicine, vol. 33, no. 01, pp. 011-016. Thieme Medical Publishers, 2015. Costello, Marilou P., and John B. Casterline. "Fertility decline in the Philippines: current status, prospects." asdf (2009): 479. Creel, Liz C., Justine V. Sass, and Nancy V. Yinger. "Overview of quality of care in reproductive health: definitions and measurements of quality." New Perspectives on Quality of Care 1 (2002): 1-8. Cronin Jr, J. Joseph, Michael K. Brady, and G. Tomas M. Hult. "Assessing the effects of quality, value, and customer satisfaction on consumer behavioral intentions in service environments." Journal of retailing 76, no. 2 (2000): 193-218. Crous, M. "Quality service delivery through customer satisfaction." (2006). D’Arcy, Catherine, Ann Taket, and Lisa Hanna. "Implementing empowerment-based Lay Health Worker programs: a preliminary study." Health promotion international 34, no. 4 (2019): 726-734. Dane, Andrew V., and Barry H. Schneider. "Program integrity in primary and early secondary prevention: are implementation effects out of control?" Clinical psychology review 18, no. 1 (1998): 23-45. David, Clarissa C., and Jenna Mae L. Atun. "Factors affecting fertility desires in the Philippines." Social Science Diliman 10, no. 2 (2014).Accessed August 12, 2019, from jounals.upd.edu.ph/index.php/socialsciencediliman/article/viewFile/4407/3999. Ewerling, F., Victora, C. G., Raj, A., Coll, C. V., Hellwig, F., & Barros, A. J. (2018). Demand for family planning satisfied with modern methods among sexually active women in low-and middle-income countries: who is lagging? Reproductive health, 15(1). (2018): 42. Francisco, J.M. “Letting the Texts of RH Speak for themselves: (Dis) continuity andCounterpoint in CBCP Statements.” Philippine Studies: Historical and Ethnographic Viewpoints, 223. (2015). Accessed October 17, 2019, from www.philippinestudies.net. Franta, Benjamin, Hilly Ann Roa-Quiaoit, Dexter Lo, and Gemma Narisma. "Climate Disasters in the Philippines." (2016). Fehring, Richard Jerome, Mary Schneider, and Kathleen Raviele. "Pilot evaluation of an Internet‐based natural family planning education and service program." Journal of Obstetric, Gynecologic & Neonatal Nursing 40, no. 3 (2011): 281-291. Glickman, Norman J., and Lisa J. Servon. "More than bricks and sticks: Five components of community development corporation capacity." Housing Policy Debate 9, no. 3 (1998): 497-539. Gomez, Fausto, B., OP. “The Role of Priests in Natural Family Planning." Boletin Ecclesiastico de Filipinas, LXXII, (1996): 163. Gribble, James N. "The standard days' method of family planning: a response to Cairo." International family planning perspectives 29, no. 4 (2003): 188-191. Guida, Maurizio, Giovanni A. Tommaselli, Massimiliano Pellicano, Stefano Palomba, and Carmine Nappi. "An overview on the effectiveness of natural family planning." Gynecological Endocrinology 11, no. 3 (1997): 203-219.Hasson, Henna. "Systematic evaluation of implementation fidelity of complex interventions in health and social care." Implementation Science 5, no. 1 (2010): 67. Infantado, R. B. "Main-streaming NFP into the Philippines' Department of Health: opportunities and challenges." Advances in Contraception 13, no. 2-3 (1997): 249-254. Institute for Reproductive Health. Faith-based organizations as partners in family planning: Working together to improve family well-being. Washington, DC: Georgetown University. (2011). Accessed February 11, 2019, from http://www.ccih.org/FBOs_as_Partners_in_FP_Report.pdf. Ledesma, Antonio. J. “All-NFP: A Way Forward.” Philippine Daily Inquirer (2012). Accessed August 04, 2019, from https://opinion.inquirer.net/35848/all-nfp-a-way-forward#ixzz5zAroo0oo Ledesma, Antonio. J. “Al-Natural Family Planning: Going beyond the RH Bill.” Accessed April 15, 2019, from https://archcdo.wordpress.com/ Lundgren, Rebecka, Jeannette Cachan, and Victoria Jennings. "Engaging men in family planning services delivery: experiences introducing the Standard Days Method® in four countries." World health & population 14, no. 1 (2012): 44. Lundgren, Rebecka I., Mihira V. Karra, and Eileen A. Yam. "The role of the Standard Days Method in modern family planning services in developing countries." The European Journal of Contraception & Reproductive Health Care 17, no. 4 (2012): 254-259.Mikolajczyk, Rafael T., Joseph B. Stanford, and Martina Rauchfuss. "Factors influencing the choice to use modern natural family planning." Contraception 67, no. 4 (2003): 253-258. Orbeta, Aniceto., Jr. “Poverty, Fertility Preferences, and Family Planning Practice in the Philippines.” Philippine Journal of Development, 129. (2006). Accessed October 25, 2019, from https://ideas.repec.org/p/phd/dpaper/dp_2005-22.html.July Orbeta, Aniceto Jr. “Poverty, vulnerability, and family size: evidence from the Philippines (No. 68). (2005). Asian Development Bank. Orbeta Jr, Aniceto, and Ernesto M. Pernia. Population Growth and Economic Development in the Philippines: What Has Been the Experience and What Must Be Done? No. 1999-22. PIDS Discussion Paper Series, 1999. Rufo, Aries. “The church pays lip service to natural family planning.” Rappler (2011). Accessed October 01, 2019, from https://news.abs-cbn.com/-depth/12/04/11/church-pays-lip-service-natural-family-planning. Schivone, Gillian B., and Paul D. Blumenthal. "Contraception in the developing world: special considerations." In Seminars in reproductive medicine, vol. 34, no. 03, pp. 168-174. Thieme Medical Publishers, 2016. Seidman, M. "Requirements for NFP service delivery: an overview." Advances in Contraception 13, no. 2-3 (1997): 241-247. Selak, Anne. “What the Church Owes Families.” La Croix International (2020) Accessed October 24, 2020, from https://www.commonwealmagazine.org/what-church-owes-families. Sinai, Irit, Rebecka Lundgren, Marcos Arévalo, and Victoria Jennings. "Fertility awareness-based methods of family planning: predictors of correct use." International family planning perspectives (2006): 94-100. Smoley, Brian A., and Christa M. Robinson. "Natural family planning." American family physician 86, no. 10 (2012): 924-928. Stanford, Joseph B., Janis C. Lemaire, and Poppy B. Thurman. "Women's interest in natural family planning." Journal of Family Practice 46 (1998): 65-72. Tommaselli, G. A., M. Guida, S. Palomba, M. Pellicano, and C. Nappi. "The importance of user compliance on the effectiveness of natural family planning programs." Gynecological endocrinology 14, no. 2 (2000): 81-89. Van de Vusse, Leona, Lisa Hanson, Richard J. Fehring, Amy Newman, and Jaime Fox. "Couples' views on the effects of natural family planning on marital dynamics." Journal of Nursing Scholarship 35, no. 2 (2003): 171-176. Vidal, Avis C. “Faith-based organizations in Community Development. (2001) Accessed January 28, 2020, from www.huduser.org/publications/pdf/faith-based.pdf. Walker, Christopher, and Mark Weinheimer. "The performance of community development systems: A report to the National Community Development Initiative." Washington, DC: Urban Institute (1996). Weldon, Elizabeth, Karen A. Jehn, and Priti Pradhan. "Processes that mediate the relationship between a group goal and improved group performance." Journal of personality and social psychology 61, no. 4 (1991): 555. World Health Organization, "Family Planning Contraception Methods," June 22, 2020. Accessed August 08, 2020, from https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/family-planning-contraception. World Health Organization. "Building from common foundations: the World Health Organization and faith-based organizations in primary healthcare." (2008). World Health Organization. “Health topics: family planning.” (1988). Accessed September 24, 2020, from http://www.who.int/topics/family_planning/en/. World Health Organization. (1988). Natural family planning: a guide to the provision of services. Accessed August 27, 2019, from https://apps.who.int/iris/handle/10665/39322.Yin, Robert K. "Case study research: Design and methods 4th edition." In the United States: Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data. 2009.

The advent of the #MeToo movement and the scale of participation in 85 countries (Gill and Orgad; see Google Trends) has greatly expanded debate about the revival of feminism (Winch Littler and Keeler) and the contribution of digital media to a “reconfiguration” of feminism (Jouet). Insofar as these campaigns are concerned with sexual harassment and related forms of sexual abuse, the longer history of sexual harassment in which this practice was named by women’s movement activists in the 1970s has gone largely unremarked except in the broad sense of the recharging or “techno-echo[es]” (Jouet) of earlier “waves” of feminism. However, #MeToo and its companion movement #TimesUp, and its fighting fund timesupnow.org, stemmed directly from the allegations in 2017 against the media mogul Harvey Weinstein by Hollywood professionals and celebrities. The naming of prominent, powerful men as harassers and the celebrity sphere of activism have become features of #MeToo that warrant comparison with the naming of sexual harassment in the earlier era of feminism.While the practices it named were not new, the term “sexual harassment” was new, and it became a defining issue in second wave feminism that was conceptualised within the continuum of sexual violence. I outline this history, and how it transformed the private, individual experiences of many women into a shared public consciousness about sexual coercion in the workplace, and some of the debate that this generated within the women’s movement at the time. It offers scope to compare the threshold politics of naming names in the 21st century, and its celebrity vanguard which has led to some ambivalence about the lasting impact. For Kathy Davis (in Zarkov and Davis), for instance, it is atypical of the collective goals of second wave feminism.In comparing the two eras, Anita Hill’s claims against Clarence Thomas in the early 1990s is a bridging incident. It dates from closer to the time in which sexual harassment was named, and Hill’s testimony is now recognised as a prototype of the kinds of claims made against powerful men in the #MeToo era. Lauren Berlant’s account of “Diva Citizenship”, formulated in response to Hill’s testimony to the US Senate, now seems prescient of the unfolding spectacle of feminist subjectivities in the digital public sphere and speaks directly to the relation between individual and collective action in making lasting change. The possibility of change, however, descends from the intervention of the women’s movement in naming sexual harassment.The Name Is AllI found my boss in a room ... . He was alone ... . He greeted me ... touched my hair and ... said ... “Come, Ruth, sit down here.” He motioned to his knee. I felt my face flush. I backed away towards the door ... . Then he rose ... and ... put his hand into his pocket, took out a roll of bills, counted off three dollars, and brought it over to me at the door. “Tell your father,” he said, “to find you a new shop for tomorrow morning.” (Cohen 129)Sexual coercion in the workplace, such as referred to in this workplace novel published in 1918, was spoken about among women in subcultures and gossip long before it was named as sexual harassment. But it had no place in public discourse. Women’s knowledge of sexual harassment coalesced in an act of naming that is reputed to have occurred in a consciousness raising group in New York at the height of the second wave women’s movement. Lin Farley lays claim to it in her book, Sexual Shakedown, first published in 1978, in describing the coinage of the term from a workshop on women and work in 1974 at Cornell University. The group of participants was made up, she says, of near equal numbers of black and white women with “economic backgrounds ranging from very affluent to poor” (11). She describes how, “when we had finished, there was an unmistakable pattern to our employment ... . Each one of us had already quit or been fired from a job at least once because we had been made too uncomfortable by the behaviour of men” (11–12). She claims to have later devised the term “sexual harassment” in collaboration with others from this group (12).The naming of sexual harassment has been described as a kind of “discovery” (Leeds TUCRIC 1) and possibly “the only concept of sexual violence to be labelled by women themselves” (Hearn et al. 20). Not everyone agrees that Farley’s group first coined the term (see Herbert 1989) and there is some evidence that it was in use from the early 1970s. Catherine Mackinnon accredits its first use to the Working Women United Institute in New York in connection with the case of Carmita Wood in 1975 (25). Yet Farley’s account gained authority and is cited in several other contemporary radical feminist works (for instance, see Storrie and Dykstra 26; Wise and Stanley 48), and Sexual Shakedown can now be listed among the iconic feminist manifestoes of the second wave era.The key insight of Farley’s book was that sexual coercion in the workplace was more than aberrant behaviour by individual men but was systemic and organised. She suggests how the phrase sexual harassment “is the first verbal description of women’s feelings about this behaviour and it unstintingly conveys a negative perception of male aggression in the workplace” (32). Others followed in seeing it as organised expression of male power that functions “to keep women out of non-traditional occupations and to reinforce their secondary status in the workplace” (Pringle 93), a wisdom that is now widely accepted but seemed radical at the time.A theoretical literature on sexual harassment grew rapidly from the 1970s in which the definition of sexual harassment was a key element. In Sexual Shakedown, Farley defines it with specific connection to the workplace and a woman’s “function as worker” (33). Some definitions attempted to cover a range of practices that “might threaten a woman’s job security or create a stressful or intimidating working environment” ranging from touching to rape (Sedley and Benn 6). In the wider radical feminist discussion, sexual harassment was located within the “continuum of sexual violence”, a paradigm that highlighted the links between “every day abuses” and “less common experiences labelled as crimes” (Kelly 59). Accordingly, it was seen as a diminished category of rape, termed “little rape” (Bularzik 26), or a means whereby women are “reminded” of the “ever present threat of rape” (Rubinstein 165).The upsurge of research and writing served to document the prevalence and history of sexual harassment. Radical feminist accounts situated the origins in the long-standing patriarchal assumption that economic responsibility for women is ultimately held by men, and how “women forced to earn their own living in the past were believed to be defenceless and possibly immoral” (Rubinstein 166). Various accounts highlighted the intersecting effects of racism and sexism in the experience of black women, and women of colour, in a way that would be now termed intersectional. Jo Dixon discussed black women’s “least advantaged position in the economy coupled with the legacy of slavery” (164), while, in Australia, Linda Rubinstein describes the “sexual exploitation of aboriginal women employed as domestic servants on outback stations” which was “as common as the better documented abuse of slaves in the American South” (166).In The Sexual Harassment of Working Women, Catherine Mackinnon provided a pioneering legal argument that sexual harassment was a form of sex discrimination. She defined two types: the quid pro quo, when “sexual compliance is exchanged, or proposed to be exchanged, for an employment opportunity” (32); and sexual harassment as a “persistent condition of work” that “simply makes the work environment unbearable” (40). Thus the feminist histories of sexual harassment became detailed and strategic. The naming of sexual harassment was a moment of relinquishing women’s experience to the gaze of feminism and the bureaucratic gaze of the state, and, in the legal interventions that followed, it ceased to be exclusively a feminist issue.In Australia, a period of bureaucratisation and state intervention commenced in the late 1970s that corresponded with similar legislative responses abroad. The federal Sex Discrimination Act was amended in 1984 to include a definition of sexual harassment, and State and Territory jurisdictions also framed legislation pertaining to sexual harassment (see Law Council of Australia). The regimes of redress were linked with Equal Opportunity and Affirmative Action frameworks and were of a civil order. Under the law, there was potential for employers to be found vicariously liable for sexual harassment.In the women’s movement, legislative strategies were deemed reformist. Radical and socialist feminists perceived the de-gendering effects of these policies in the workplace that risked collusion with the state. Some argued that naming and defining sexual harassment denies that women constantly deal with a range of harassment anywhere, not only in the workplace (Wise and Stanley 10); while others argued that reformist approaches effectively legitimate other forms of sex discrimination not covered by legislation (Game and Pringle 290). However, in feminism and in the policy realm, the debate concerned sexual harassment in the general workplace. In contrast to #MeToo, it was not led by celebrity voices, nor galvanised by incidents in the sphere of entertainment, nor, by and large, among figures of public office, except for a couple of notable exceptions, including Anita Hill.The “Spectacle of Subjectivity” in the “Scene of Public Life”Through the early 1990s as an MA candidate at the University of Queensland, I studied media coverage of sexual harassment cases, clipping newspapers and noting electronic media reports on a daily basis. These mainly concerned incidents in government sector workplaces or small commercial enterprises. While the public prominence of the parties involved was not generally a factor in reportage, occasionally, prominent individuals were affected, such as the harassment of the athlete Michelle Baumgartner at the Commonwealth Games in 1990 which received extensive coverage but the offenders were never publicly named or disciplined. Two other incidents stand out: the Ormond College case at the University of Melbourne, about which much has been written; and Anita Hill’s claims against Clarence Thomas during his nomination to the US Supreme Court in 1991.The spectacle of Hill’s testimony to the US Senate is now an archetype of claims against powerful men, although, at the time, her credibility was attacked and her dignified presentation was criticised as “too composed. Too cool. Too censorious” (Legge 31). Hill was also seen to counterpose the struggles of race and gender, and Thomas himself famously described it as “a hi-tech lynching of an uppity black” (qtd in Stephens 1). By “hi-tech”, Thomas alluded to the occasion of the first-ever live national broadcast of the United States Senate hearings in which Hill’s claims were aired directly to the national public, and re-broadcast internationally in news coverage. Thus, it was not only the claims but the scale and medium of delivery to a global audience that set it apart from other sexual harassment stories.Recent events have since prompted revisiting of the inequity of Hill’s treatment at the Senate hearings. But well before this, in an epic and polemical study of American public culture, Berlant reflected at length on the heroism of Hill’s “witnessing” as paradigmatic of citizenship in post-Reaganite America’s “shrinking” public sphere. It forms part of her much wider thesis regarding the “intimate public sphere” and the form of citizenship “produced by personal acts and values” (5) in the absence of a context that “makes ordinary citizens feel they have a common public culture, or influence on a state” (3), and in which the fundamental inequality of minority cultures is assumed. For Berlant, Hill’s testimony becomes the model of “Diva Citizenship”; the “strange intimacy” in which the Citizen Diva, “the subordinated person”, believes in the capacity of the privileged ones “to learn and to change” and “trust[s] ... their innocence of ... their obliviousness” of the system that has supported her subjugation (222–223). While Berlant’s thesis pertains to profound social inequalities, there is no mistaking the comparison to the digital feminist in the #MeToo era in the call to identify with her suffering and courage.Of Hill’s testimony, Berlant describes how: “a member of a stigmatised population testifies reluctantly to a hostile public the muted and anxious history of her imperiled citizenship” (222). It is an “act of heroic pedagogy” (223) which occurs when “a person stages a dramatic coup in a public sphere in which she does not have privilege” (223). In such settings, “acts of language can feel like explosives” and put “the dominant story into suspended animation” (223). The Diva Citizen cannot “change the world” but “challenges her audience” to identify with her “suffering” and the “courage she has had to produce” in “calling on people to change the practices of citizenship into which they currently consent” (223). But Berlant cautions that the strongest of Divas cannot alone achieve change because “remaking the scene of public life into a spectacle of subjectivity” can lead to “a confusion of ... memorable rhetorical performance with sustained social change itself” (223). Instead, she argues that the Diva’s act is a call; the political obligation for the action of change lies with the collective, the greater body politic.The EchoIf Acts of Diva Citizenship abound in the #MeToo movement, relations between the individual and the collective are in question in a number of ways. This suggests a basis of comparison between past and present feminisms which have come full circle in the renewed recognition of sexual harassment in the continuum of sexual violence. Compared with the past, the voices of #MeToo are arguably empowered by a genuine, if gradual, change in the symbolic status of women, and a corresponding destabilization of the images of male power since the second wave era of feminism. The one who names an abuser on Twitter symbolises a power of individual courage, backed by a responding collective voice of supporters. Yet there are concerns about who can “speak out” without access to social media or with the constraint that “the sanctions would be too great” (Zarkov and Davis). Conversely, the “spreadability” — as Jenkins, Ford and Green term the travelling properties of digital media — and the apparent relative ease of online activism might belie the challenge and courage of those who make the claims and those who respond.The collective voice is also allied with other grassroots movements like SlutWalk (Jouet), the women’s marches in the US against the Trump presidency, and the several national campaigns — in India and Egypt, for instance (Zarkov and Davis) — that contest sexual violence and gender inequality. The “sheer numbers” of participation in #MeToo testify to “the collectivity of it all” and the diversity of the movement (Gill and Orgad). If the #MeToo hashtag gained traction with the “experiences of white heterosexual women in the US”, it “quickly expanded” due to “broad and inclusive appeal” with stories of queer women and men and people of colour well beyond the Global North. Even so, Tarana Burke, who founded the #MeToo hashtag in 2006 in her campaign of social justice for working class women and girls of colour, and endorsed its adoption by Hollywood, highlights the many “untold stories”.More strikingly, #MeToo participants name the names of the alleged harassers. The naming of names, famous names, is threshold-crossing and as much the public-startling power of the disclosures as the allegations and stimulates newsworthiness in conventional media. The resonance is amplified in the context of the American crisis over the Trump presidency in the sense that the powerful men called out become echoes or avatars of Trump’s monstrous manhood and the urgency of denouncing it. In the case of Harvey Weinstein, the name is all. A figure of immense power who symbolised an industry, naming Weinstein blew away the defensive old Hollywood myths of “casting couches” and promised, perhaps idealistically, the possibility for changing a culture and an industrial system.The Hollywood setting for activism is the most striking comparison with second wave feminism. A sense of contradiction emerges in this new “visibility” of sexual harassment in a culture that remains predominantly “voyeuristic” and “sexist” (Karkov and Davis), and not least in the realm of Hollywood where the sexualisation of women workers has long been a notorious open secret. A barrage of Hollywood feminism has accompanied #MeToo and #TimesUp in the campaign for diversity at the Oscars, and the stream of film remakes of formerly all-male narrative films that star all-female casts (Ghostbusters; Oceans 11; Dirty, Rotten Scoundrels). Cynically, this trend to make popular cinema a public sphere for gender equality in the film industry seems more glorifying than subversive of Hollywood masculinities. Uneasily, it does not overcome those lingering questions about why these conditions were uncontested openly for so long, and why it took so long for someone to go public, as Rose McGowan did, with claims about Harvey Weinstein.However, a reading of She Said, by Jodie Kantor and Megan Tuohey, the journalists who broke the Weinstein story in the New York Times — following their three year efforts to produce a legally water-tight report — makes clear that it was not for want of stories, but firm evidence and, more importantly, on-the-record testimony. If not for their (and others’) fastidious journalism and trust-building and the Citizen Divas prepared to disclose their experiences publicly, Weinstein might not be convicted today. Yet without the naming of the problem of sexual harassment in the women’s movement all those years ago, none of this may have come to pass. Lin Farley can now be found on YouTube retelling the story (see “New Mexico in Focus”).It places the debate about digital activism and Hollywood feminism in some perspective and, like the work of journalists, it is testament to the symbiosis of individual and collective effort in the action of change. The tweeting activism of #MeToo supplements the plenum of knowledge and action about sexual harassment across time: the workplace novels, the consciousness raising, the legislation and the poster campaigns. In different ways, in both eras, this literature demonstrates that names matter in calling for change on sexual harassment. But, if #MeToo is to become the last long take on sexual harassment, then, as Berlant advocates, the responsibility lies with the body politic who must act collectively for change in ways that will last well beyond the courage of the Citizen Divas who so bravely call it on.ReferencesBerlant, Lauren. The Queen of America Goes to Washington City: Essays on Sex and Citizenship. 1997. Durham: Duke UP, 2002.Bularzik, Mary. “Sexual Harassment at the Workplace: Historical Notes.” Radical America 12.4 (1978): 25-43.Cohen, Rose. Out of the Shadow. NY: Doran, 1918.Dixon, Jo. “Feminist Reforms of Sexual Coercion Laws.” Sexual Coercion: A Sourcebook on Its Nature, Causes and Prevention. Eds. Elizabeth Grauerholz and Mary A. Karlewski. Massachusetts: Lexington, 1991. 161-171.Farley, Lin. Sexual Shakedown: The Sexual Harassment of Women in the Working World. London: Melbourne House, 1978.Game, Ann, and Rosemary Pringle. “Beyond Gender at Work: Secretaries.” Australian Women: New Feminist Perspectives. Melbourne: Oxford UP, 1986. 273–91.Gill, Rosalind, and Shani Orgad. “The Shifting Terrain of Sex and Power: From the ‘Sexualisation of Culture’ to #MeToo.” Sexualities 21.8 (2018): 1313–1324. <https://doi-org.elibrary.jcu.edu.au/10.1177/1363460718794647>.Google Trends. “Me Too Rising: A Visualisation of the Movement from Google Trends.” 2017–2020. <https://metoorising.withgoogle.com>.Hearn, Jeff, Deborah Shepherd, Peter Sherrif, and Gibson Burrell. The Sexuality of Organization. London: Sage, 1989.Herbert, Carrie. Talking of Silence: The Sexual Harassment of Schoolgirls. London: Falmer, 1989.Jenkins, Henry, Sam Ford, and Joshua Green. Spreadable Media: Creating Value and Meaning in a Networked Culture. New York: New York UP, 2013.Jouet, Josiane. “Digital Feminism: Questioning the Renewal of Activism.” Journal of Research in Gender Studies 8.1 (2018). 1 Jan. 2018. <http://dx.doi.org.elibrary.jcu.edu.au/10.22381/JRGS8120187>.Kantor, Jodi, and Megan Twohey. She Said: Breaking the Sexual Harassment Story That Helped Ignite a Movement. London: Bloomsbury, 2019.Kelly, Liz. “The Continuum of Sexual Violence.” Women, Violence, and Social Control. Eds. Jalna Hanmer and Mary Maynard. London: MacMillan, 1989. 46–60.Legge, Kate. “The Harassment of America.” Weekend Australian 19–20 Oct. 1991: 31.Mackinnon, Catherine. The Sexual Harassment of Working Women. New Haven: Yale UP, 1979.New Mexico in Focus, a Production of NMPBS. 26 Jan. 2018. <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LlO5PiwZk8U>.Pringle, Rosemary. Secretaries Talk. Sydney: Allen and Unwin, 1988.Rubinstein, Linda. “Dominance Eroticized: Sexual Harassment of Working Women.” Worth Her Salt. Eds. Margaret Bevege, Margaret James, and Carmel Shute. Sydney: Hale and Iremonger, 1982. 163–74.Sedley, Ann, and Melissa Benn. Sexual Harassment at Work. London: NCCL Rights for Women Unit, 1986.Stephens, Peter. “America’s Sick and Awful Farce.” Sydney Morning Herald 14 Oct. 1991: 1.Storrie, Kathleen, and Pearl Dykstra. “Bibliography on Sexual Harassment.” Resources for Feminist Research/Documentation 10.4 (1981–1982): 25–32.Wise, Sue, and Liz Stanley. Georgie Porgie: Sexual Harassment in Every Day Life. London: Pandora, 1987.Winch, Alison, Jo Littler, and Jessalyn Keller. “Why ‘Intergenerational Feminist Media Studies’?” Feminist Media Studies 16.4 (2016): 557–572. <https://doi.org/10.1080/14680777.2016.1193285>.Zarkov, Dubravka, and Kathy Davis. “Ambiguities and Dilemmas around #MeToo: #ForHowLong and #WhereTo?” European Journal of Women's Studies 25.1 (2018): 3–9. <https://doi.org/10.1177/1350506817749436>.

In 1991 the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival evicted two female identified transsexual attendees on the grounds that they violated its women only policy of admittance. The Festival, established in 1976 and now the largest of its kind, turned into a "microcosm of the conflicts that have plagued the women's movement" (Rubin 18) and revived widespread debate about the place of trans and non-standard gender performances in feminist activism. A pro-trans event, aptly named Camp Trans, was held outside the Festival's gates with the aim of inciting greater interest in the area. The Festival's founder and on going organiser, Lisa Vogel, responded with a statement in 2001 claiming the "intention is for the Festival to be for womyn-born womyn, meaning people who were born and have lived their entire life experience as female" (Vogel 2000). This resulted in the exclusion of not only trans individuals, but also a plethora of non-conventional gender identities. Bitter debate ensued, revealing the Festival's role not just in appealing to a defined, recognisable demographic, but in constructing and maintaining an entire category of identity. My initial encounters with the Festival occurred through independent media and the internet. It become particularly widely debated after artists from the Queer orientated Mr Lady record label (most famously Le Tigre, fronted by riot grrl icon Kathleen Hanna) confirmed that they would perform at the event, despite knowledge of the anti-trans policy. Perhaps the most poignant reflection came from Ciara Xyerra's 2001 zine A Renegade's Handbook To Love And Sabotage. She comments that the Festival's intent was to provide "not only just a 'safe space' for women, but specifically for 'womyn born womyn.'" […] this essentialist logic is […] flawed in that it assumes every "womyn born womyn" was socialized in exactly the same way, that differences regarding race, class, ability, personal history, have no bearing on how a woman perceives herself as a woman […](69). Certainly the revised womyn born womyn label is a problematic way of dealing with the situation. The standard woman is assumed not to encounter trans issues, at least not in a way that impacts on her sense of gendered self. This issue provokes comparisons to the race debates that wreaked havoc through US feminism in early eighties. The sentiments of the Camp Trans protest echo Audre Lorde's 1984 criticism that: As white women ignore their built-in privilege of whiteness and define women in terms of their experience alone, then women of Color become 'other', the outsider whose experience is too alien to comprehend (632). In retrospect what remains most striking about the race debates is how incredibly poorly they were handled. The period is marked by a tendency towards splinter and separatist groups, evident in the writing of people like bell hooks and Mary Daly. Communication between various factions collapsed amid accusations of racism and ignorance of the wider struggle, leaving ruptures still visible today. (Gubar 884-890) The emphasis has shifted from presumed racial background to presumed biological characteristics, but at its core this is the same argument about which performances of self are given legitimacy, and which are passed off as outside the interests of the feminist community. Indeed the Festival's anti-trans policy can also be traced back to the early 1980's, stemming from clashes between separatists and post-operative transsexuals entering feminist activism. In both instances there has been an assumption that the majority of members within the community experience the world from a common perspective, a collective sense of self at the core of the movement, outlining its wider agenda. I am reminded of Gayatri Spivak's comment that "We take the explanations we produce to be the grounds of our action; they are endowed with coherence in terms of our explanation of self" (In Other Worlds 104). Conflict arises when internal factions find their concerns being overlooked, and begin questioning exactly whose experience is taken as the model for the collective self. There is a tendency towards viewing this as a threat to the movement's solidarity. In an effort to maintain wider group cohesion, divergent voices are often dealt with by claiming they arise from entirely different strains of selfhood. New identities, or at the least hyphenated subcategories, proliferate under "the essentialist's claim that there must be an ultimate (that is, comprehensive), complete, consistent, coherent set of types" (Spinosa and Dreyfus 72). These redefinitions explain and dispel difference without actually addressing it. It would be naive to assume this sort of essentialism exists only for the Festival and older activist methodology. While Queer theory has certainly given us new tools for understanding the issues, its practical application does not necessarily avoid "knitting out more fashionably an otherwise reconstructed […] essentialism" (Jagose). As people like Martha Nussbaum and Benita Parry have argued, if somewhat problematically, there is a fine line between fluidity and dissolution. Activist and liberal scepticism towards deconstructive methodology contains an at least reasonably justified trepidation towards tinkering with political communities which have proved historically successful. The unfortunate revival of the 'old school' activism versus 'new school' theory attitude, itself founded on an essentialist belief in a single, correct ideological stance, has further complicated matters. Festival attendee Janel Smith, writing for one of the bastions of 'old school' activism, Off Our Backs, voiced activist scepticism when commenting that post structuralism is "an entire movement and theory […] designed to debunk these 'myths' about gender and racial identity." She continues: We often make sense of other people by categorizing them into labels and boxes that we ourselves feel comfortable with. Dominant discourse tends to dismiss this process as inherently negative, one that limits people and their understanding of self and projected identity (17). The criticism of dominant academic discourse is worth consideration. If it "is not possible for us to describe our own archive, since it is from within these rules that we speak" (Foucault 130), we need to be acutely aware of the way we act within culture, and wary of any movement which claims to fully recognise and transcend its boundaries. Our treatment of identity needs to "avoid the mistake of slipping between 'no absolute truth' and 'absolutely no truth,'" as Felicity Newman, Tracey Summerfield and Reece Plunkett suggest. From the alternate perspective, Aviva Rubin argues "our activism is characterized by seemingly incompatible inclinations to generalize and to particularize" (17). She writes that the Festival's attempt to develop a "theoretical 'she'" with which we "identify sameness – she shares our politics, our goals, our place" is fundamentally flawed as "the notion collapses when confronted with the differences we've deliberately ignored" (8). This leaves the situation double bound. A standard sense of gendered self provides unity and a workable common agenda, but comes into conflict with the identities it has excluded from its definition. The unified self combats repression, but, as Judith Butler so aptly puts it, "exclusion operates prior to repression" (71). However there are certainly areas of common ground. Rubin's "plea for grey", or an area "between absolutes," (20) is remarkably similar to Smith's endeavour to exist "somewhere in-between butch and femme" (14). Yet, for the Festival, that difference was enough to cause a gap between those who found it "an atmosphere of unparalleled safety" (Smith 13) and the pro-trans attendees who felt they needed "an escort to get out safely after darkness fell" (Wilchins 2000). As these relative similarities exist, it is disappointing to see that the arising differences have met with such aggressively negative reactions. Given the unlikeliness of everyone agreeing on a definitive understanding in the near future, it would seem beneficial to shift the focus away from searches for correct identities and ideologies, and develop new approaches to the debates themselves. I am again reminded of a comment from Gayatri Spivak, this time from her 1992 essay "More on Power/Knowledge". She comments that "if the lines of making sense of something are laid down in a certain way, then you are able to do only those things with that something which are possible within and by arrangement of those lines" (151). This is as true for our concepts of self as it is for any other issue. If we cannot reach outside of the structures of culture to find more universally true categories, or expect an ideological stance to present entirely new and more correct understandings, how we handle the arising debate is of major importance. Homi Bhabha's comment that "our political references and priorities […] are not there in some primordial, naturalistic sense" (26) does not necessarily render them null and void. There is a difference between needing to debate an identity or ideology, and needing to discard or reinvent it. Instead of looking for a true model of self or a correct ideology, the problem becomes looking at the cultural structure we have, trying to "recognise it as best one can and, through one's necessarily inadequate interpretation, to work to change it" (Spivak 1988 120). From this perspective the conflict that emerges from the Festival is as important as the possibilities for final resolution. Rather than treating differences as immediate problems and being "shocked, disappointed and instantly sidetracked into seeking resolution" (Rubin 20), it seems possible to consider the debate important in its own right. In practice this would mean keeping the lines of communication between the various factions open, and treating debate as an integral and on going process, rather than an unwelcome confrontation to be settled as quickly and quietly as possible. The commitment of the Camp Trans protesters to "workshops to educate festival goers" (Wilchins 2000), and their modest success, indicates that maintaining ongoing debate is a workable and productive approach. On the other hand Vogel's unwillingness to talk to the Camp Trans group is perhaps as open to criticism as her definitions of gender identity. Surely if a definitive concept of self cannot be settled upon easily, the lines of communication between Camp Trans and the Festival can at least be expected to keep the search from stagnating. The role the Festival has served as "a locus of political and cultural debate" (Delany) combined with its relatively successful negotiations of class and race issues indicates that it can play this role successfully. Although the womyn born womyn policy might not have changed, it is difficult to imagine many other platforms on which trans related debates could occur on such a large scale. In light of this it does not seem unrealistic to think of the debate as beneficial in ensuring continued rethinking of the issues, and not just as part of some potential revision or creation of identities which will hopefully be completed some time in the future. References Bhabha, Homi K. The Location of Culture. 1994 London: Routledge. 2000. Butler, Judith. Gender Trouble. New York: Routledge, 1999. Delany, Anngel. "Michigan Womyn's Music Festival celebrates 25 years of controversy." Gay.Com (2002) May 10th, 2002. http://content.gay.com/people/women_spac... Foucault, Michel. The Archaeology of Knowledge. Trans. A Sheridan Smith. Ed. R.D Laing, London: Routledge, 2000. Gubar, Susan. "What Ails Feminist Criticism?" Critical Inquiry 24.4 (1998): 878-903. Jagose, Annamarie. "Queer Theory." Australian Humanities Review 4 (1996) http://www.lib.latrobe.edu.au/AHR/archiv... (28-6-02). Lorde, Audre. "Age, Race, Class, and Sex: Women Redefining Difference". Literary Theory: An Anthology. Ed. Julie Rivkin and Michael Ryan. 4th Ed. Malden: Blackwell, 1998: 630-636. Newman, Felicity, Summerfield, Tracy and Plunkett, Reece. "Three Cultures from the 'Inside': or, A Jew, a Lawyer and a Dyke Go Into This Bar…" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3.2 (2000). http://www.api-network.com/mc/0005/count.... (28-5-02) Nussbaum, Martha. "The Professor of Parody: The Hip Defeatism of Judith Butler." The New Republic 22 Feb. 1999: 38-45. Parry, Benita. "Problems in Current Theories of Colonial Discourse." Oxford Literary Review 9 (1987) 27-58. Rubin, Aviva. "The Search for Grey: an agree-to-disagree." Canadian Dimensions 31.5 (1997) 17-21. Smith, Janel. "Identity Crisis: Fuches Rise up and Unite." Off Our Backs 30.9 (2000): 13-20. Spinosa, Charles and Hubert Dreyfus. "Two Kinds of Antiessentialism and Their Consequences." Critical Inquiry 22.4 (1996) 735-764. Spivak, Gayatri Chakravority. In Other Worlds. London: Routledge, 1988. ---, "More On Power/Knowledge." The Spivak Reader. Ed. Donna Landry and Gerald Maclean. New York: Routledge, 1996: 141-174. Vogel, Lisa. "Official Statement of Policy by MWMF." (2000).http://www.camptrans.com/press/2000_mwmf... (30-6-2002). Wilchins, Riki Ann. Interview with In Your Face. (2000) http://www.camptrans.com/stories/intervi... (30-6-02). Xyerra, Ciara. A Renegades Handbook to Love and Sabotage 4. Madford: Independently Published, 2001. Links http://www.camptrans.com/ http://www.api-network.com/mc/0005/country.html http://www.camptrans.com/stories/interview.html http://www.camptrans.com/press/2000_mwmf.html http://www.lib.latrobe.edu.au/AHR/archive/Issue-Dec-1996/jagose.html http://content.gay.com/people/women_space/michigan_000807.html Citation reference for this article Substitute your date of access for Dn Month Year etc... MLA Style Ware, Ianto. "Conflicting Concepts of Self and The Michigan Womyn's Music Festival" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5.5 (2002). [your date of access] < http://www.media-culture.org.au/mc/0210/Ware.html &gt. Chicago Style Ware, Ianto, "Conflicting Concepts of Self and The Michigan Womyn's Music Festival" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5, no. 5 (2002), < http://www.media-culture.org.au/mc/0210/Ware.html &gt ([your date of access]). APA Style Ware, Ianto. (2002) Conflicting Concepts of Self and The Michigan Womyn's Music Festival. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5(5). < http://www.media-culture.org.au/mc/0210/Ware.html &gt ([your date of access]).

This paper argues that artist Dope Saint Jude is transforming South African hip-hop by queering a genre that has predominantly been male and heteronormative. Specifically, I analyse the opening skit of her music video “Keep in Touch” in order to unpack the ways which she revives Gayle, a gay language that adopted double-coded forms of speech during the apartheid era—a context in which homosexuals were criminalised. The use of Gayle and spaces close to the city centre of Cape Town (such as Salt River and Woodstock) speaks to the city as it was before it was transformed by the decline of industries due to the country’s adoption of neoliberal economics and, more recently, by the gentrification of these spaces. Dope Saint Jude therefore reclaims these city spaces through her use of gay modes of speech that have a long history in Cape Town and by positioning her work as hip-hop, which has been popular in the city for well over two decades. Her inclusion of transgender MC and DJ Angel Ho pushes the boundaries of hegemonic and binary conceptions of gender identity even further. In essence, Dope Saint Jude is transforming local hip-hop in a context that is shaped significantly by US cultural imperialism. The artist is also transforming our perspective of spaces that have been altered by neoliberal economics.Setting the SceneDope Saint Jude (DSJ) is a queer MC from Elsies River, a working class township located on Cape Town's Cape Flats in South Africa. Elsies River was defined as a “coloured” neighbourhood under the apartheid state's Group Areas Act, which segregated South Africans racially. With the aid of the Population Registration Act, citizens were classified, not merely along the lines of white, Asian, or black—black subjects were also divided into further categories. The apartheid state also distinguished between black and “coloured” subjects. Michael MacDonald contends that segregation “ordained blacks to be inferior to whites; apartheid cast them to be indelibly different” (11). Apartheid declared “African claims in South Africa to be inferior to white claims” and effectively claimed that black subjects “belonged elsewhere, in societies of their own, because their race was different” (ibid). The term “coloured” defined people as “mixed race” to separate communities that might otherwise have identified as black in the broad and inclusive sense (Erasmus 16). Racial categorisation was used to create a racial hierarchy with white subjects at the top of that hierarchy and those classified as black receiving the least resources and benefits. This frustrated attempts to establish broad alliances of black struggles against apartheid. It is in this sense that race is socially and politically constructed and continues to have currency, despite the fact that biologically essentialist understandings of race have been discredited (Yudell 13–14). Thanks to apartheid town planning and resource allocation, many townships on the Cape Flats were poverty-stricken and plagued by gang violence (Salo 363). This continues to be the case because post-apartheid South Africa's embrace of neoliberal economics failed to address racialised class inequalities significantly (Haupt, Static 6–8). This is the '90s context in which socially conscious hip-hop crews, such as Prophets of da City or Black Noise, came together. They drew inspiration from Black Consciousness philosophy via their exposure to US hip-hop crews such as Public Enemy in order to challenge apartheid policies, including their racial interpellation as “coloured” as distinct from the more inclusive category, black (Haupt, “Black Thing” 178). Prophets of da City—whose co-founding member, Shaheen Ariefdien, also lived in Elsies River—was the first South African hip-hop outfit to record an album. Whilst much of their work was performed in English, they quickly transformed the genre by rapping in non-standard varieties of Afrikaans and by including MCs who rap in African languages (ibid). They therefore succeeded in addressing key issues related to race, language, and class disparities in relation to South Africa's transition to democracy (Haupt, “Black Thing”; Haupt, Stealing Empire). However, as is the case with mainstream US hip-hop, specifically gangsta rap (Clay 149), South African hip-hop has been largely dominated by heterosexual men. This includes the more commercial hip-hop scene, which is largely perceived to be located in Johannesburg, where male MCs like AKA and Cassper Nyovest became celebrities. However, certain female MCs have claimed the genre, notably EJ von Lyrik and Burni Aman who are formerly of Godessa, the first female hip-hop crew to record and perform locally and internationally (Haupt, Stealing Empire 166; Haupt, “Can a Woman in Hip-Hop”). DSJ therefore presents the exception to a largely heteronormative and male-dominated South African music industry and hip-hop scene as she transforms it with her queer politics. While queer hip-hop is not new in the US (Pabón and Smalls), this is new territory for South Africa. Writing about the US MC Jean Grae in the context of a “male-dominated music industry and genre,” Shanté Paradigm Smalls contends,Heteronormativity blocks the materiality of the experiences of Black people. Yet, many Black people strive for a heteronormative effect if not “reality”. In hip hop, there is a particular emphasis on maintaining the rigidity of categories, even if those categories fail [sic]. (87) DSJ challenges these rigid categories. Keep in TouchDSJ's most visible entry onto the media landscape to date has been her appearance in an H&M recycling campaign with British Sri Lankan artist MIA (H&M), some fashion shoots, her new EP—Reimagine (Dope Saint Jude)—and recent Finnish, US and French tours as well as her YouTube channel, which features her music videos. As the characters’ theatrical costumes suggest, “Keep in Touch” is possibly the most camp and playful music video she has produced. It commences somewhat comically with Dope Saint Jude walking down Salt River main road to a public telephone, where she and a young woman in pig tails exchange dirty looks. Salt River is located at the foot of Devil's Peak not far from Cape Town's CBD. Many factories were located there, but the area is also surrounded by low-income housing, which was designated a “coloured” area under apartheid. After apartheid, neighbourhoods such as Salt River, Woodstock, and the Bo-Kaap became increasingly gentrified and, instead of becoming more inclusive, many parts of Cape Town continued to be influenced by policies that enable racialised inequalities. Dope Saint Jude calls Angel Ho: DSJ: Awêh, Angie! Yoh, you must check this kak sturvy girl here by the pay phone. [Turns to the girl, who walks away as she bursts a chewing gum bubble.] Ja, you better keep in touch. Anyway, listen here, what are you wys?Angel Ho: Ah, just at the salon getting my hair did. What's good? DSJ: Wanna catch on kak today?Angel Ho: Yes, honey. But, first, let me Gayle you this. By the jol by the art gallery, this Wendy, nuh. This Wendy tapped me on the shoulder and wys me, “This is a place of decorum.”DSJ: What did she wys?Angel Ho: De-corum. She basically told me this is not your house. DSJ: I know you told that girl to keep in touch!Angel Ho: Yes, Mama! I'm Paula, I told that bitch, “Keep in touch!” [Points index finger in the air.](Saint Jude, Dope, “Keep in Touch”)Angel Ho's name is a play on the male name Angelo and refers to the trope of the ho (whore) in gangsta rap lyrics and in music videos that present objectified women as secondary to male, heterosexual narratives (Sharpley-Whiting 23; Collins 27). The queering of Angelo, along with Angel Ho’s non-binary styling in terms of hair, make-up, and attire, appropriates a heterosexist, sexualised stereotype of women in order to create room for a gender identity that operates beyond heteronormative male-female binaries. Angel Ho’s location in a hair salon also speaks to stereotypical associations of salons with women and gay subjects. In a discussion of gender stereotypes about hair salons, Kristen Barber argues that beauty work has traditionally been “associated with women and with gay men” and that “the body beautiful has been tightly linked to the concept of femininity” (455–56). During the telephonic exchange, Angel Ho and Dope Saint Jude code-switch between standard and non-standard varieties of English and Afrikaans, as the opening appellation, “Awêh,” suggests. In this context, the term is a friendly greeting, which intimates solidarity. “Sturvy” means pretentious, whilst “kak” means shit, but here it is used to qualify “sturvy” and means that the girl at the pay phone is very pretentious or “full of airs.” To be “wys” means to be wise, but it can also mean that you are showing someone something or educating them. The meanings of these terms shift, depending on the context. The language practices in this skit are in line with the work of earlier hip-hop crews, such as Prophets of da City and Brasse vannie Kaap, to validate black, multilingual forms of speech and expression that challenge the linguistic imperialism of standard English and Afrikaans in South Africa, which has eleven official languages (Haupt, “Black Thing”; Haupt, Stealing Empire; Williams). Henry Louis Gates’s research on African American speech varieties and literary practices emerging from the repressive context of slavery is essential to understanding hip-hop’s language politics. Hip-hop artists' multilingual wordplay creates parallel discursive universes that operate both on the syntagmatic axis of meaning-making and the paradigmatic axis (Gates 49; Haupt, “Stealing Empire” 76–77). Historically, these discursive universes were those of the slave masters and the slaves, respectively. While white hegemonic meanings are produced on the syntagmatic axis (which is ordered and linear), black modes of speech as seen in hip-hop word play operate on the paradigmatic axis, which is connotative and non-linear (ibid). Distinguishing between Signifyin(g) / Signification (upper case, meaning black expression) and signification (lower case, meaning white dominant expression), he argues that “the signifier ‘Signification’ has remained identical in spelling to its white counterpart to demonstrate [. . .] that a simultaneous, but negated, parallel discursive (ontological, political) universe exists within the larger white discursive universe” (Gates 49). The meanings of terms and expressions can change, depending on the context and manner in which they are used. It is therefore the shared experiences of speech communities (such as slavery or racist/sexist oppression) that determine the negotiated meanings of certain forms of expression. Gayle as a Parallel Discursive UniverseDSJ and Angel Ho's performance of Gayle takes these linguistic practices further. Viewers are offered points of entry into Gayle via the music video’s subtitles. We learn that Wendy is code for a white person and that to keep in touch means exactly the opposite. Saint Jude explains that Gayle is a very fun queer language that was used to kind of mask what people were saying [. . .] It hides meanings and it makes use of women's names [. . . .] But the thing about Gayle is it's constantly changing [. . .] So everywhere you go, you kind of have to pick it up according to the context that you're in. (Ovens, Saint Jude and Haupt)According to Kathryn Luyt, “Gayle originated as Moffietaal [gay language] in the coloured gay drag culture of the Western Cape as a form of slang amongst Afrikaans-speakers which over time, grew into a stylect used by gay English and Afrikaans-speakers across South Africa” (Luyt 8; Cage 4). Given that the apartheid state criminalised homosexuals, Gayle was coded to evade detection and to seek out other members of this speech community (Luyt 8). Luyt qualifies the term “language” by arguing, “The term ‘language’ here, is used not as a constructed language with its own grammar, syntax, morphology and phonology, but in the same way as linguists would discuss women’s language, as a way of speaking, a kind of sociolect” (Luyt 8; Cage 1). However, the double-coded nature of Gayle allows one to think of it as creating a parallel discursive universe as Gates describes it (49). Whereas African American and Cape Flats discursive practices function parallel to white, hegemonic discourses, gay modes of speech run parallel to heteronormative communication. Exclusion and MicroaggressionsThe skit brings both discursive practices into play by creating room for one to consider that DSJ queers a male-dominated genre that is shaped by US cultural imperialism (Haupt, Stealing Empire 166) as a way of speaking back to intersectional forms of marginalisation (Crenshaw 1244), which are created by “white supremacist capitalist patriarchy” (hooks 116). This is significant in South Africa where “curative rape” of lesbians and other forms of homophobic violence are prominent (cf. Gqola; Hames; Msibi). Angel Ho's anecdote conveys a sense of the extent to which black individuals are subject to scrutiny. Ho's interpretation of the claim that the gallery “is a place of decorum” is correct: it is not Ho's house. Black queer subjects are not meant to feel at home or feel a sense of ownership. This functions as a racial microaggression: “subtle insults (verbal, nonverbal, and/or visual) directed toward people of color, often automatically or unconsciously” (Solorzano, Ceja, and Yosso 60). This speaks to DSJ's use of Salt River, Woodstock, and Bo-Kaap for the music video, which features black queer bodies in performance—all of these spaces are being gentrified, effectively pushing working class people of colour out of the city (cf. Didier, Morange, and Peyroux; Lemanski). Gustav Visser explains that gentrification has come to mean a unit-by-unit acquisition of housing which replaces low-income residents with high-income residents, and which occurs independent of the structural condition, architecture, tenure or original cost level of the housing (although it is usually renovated for or by the new occupiers). (81–82) In South Africa this inequity plays out along racial lines because its neoliberal economic policies created a small black elite without improving the lives of the black working class. Instead, the “new African bourgeoisie, because it shares racial identities with the bulk of the poor and class interests with white economic elites, is in position to mediate the reinforcing cleavages between rich whites and poor blacks without having to make more radical changes” (MacDonald 158). In a news article about a working class Salt River family of colour’s battle against an eviction, Christine Hogg explains, “Gentrification often means the poor are displaced as the rich move in or buildings are upgraded by new businesses. In Woodstock and Salt River both are happening at a pace.” Angel Ho’s anecdote, as told from a Woodstock hair salon, conveys a sense of what Woodstock’s transformation from a coloured, working class Group Area to an upmarket, trendy, and arty space would mean for people of colour, including black, queer subjects. One could argue that this reading of the video is undermined by DSJ’s work with global brand H&M. Was she was snared by neoliberal economics? Perhaps, but one response is that the seeds of any subculture’s commercial co-option lie in the fact it speaks through commodities (for example clothing, make-up, CDs, vinyl, or iTunes / mp3 downloads (Hebdige 95; Haupt, Stealing Empire 144–45). Subcultures have a window period in which to challenge hegemonic ideologies before they are delegitimated or commercially co-opted. Hardt and Negri contend that the means that extend the reach of corporate globalisation could be used to challenge it from within it (44–46; Haupt, Stealing Empire 26). DSJ utilises her H&M work, social media, the hip-hop genre, and international networks to exploit that window period to help mainstream black queer identity politics.ConclusionDSJ speaks back to processes of exclusion from the city, which was transformed by apartheid and, more recently, gentrification, by claiming it as a creative and playful space for queer subjects of colour. She uses Gayle to lay claim to the city as it has a long history in Cape Town. In fact, she says that she is not reviving Gayle, but is simply “putting it on a bigger platform” (Ovens, Saint Jude, and Haupt). The use of subtitles in the video suggests that she wants to mainstream queer identity politics. Saint Jude also transforms hip-hop heteronormativity by queering the genre and by locating her work within the history of Cape hip-hop’s multilingual wordplay. ReferencesBarber, Kristin. “The Well-Coiffed Man: Class, Race, and Heterosexual Masculinity in the Hair Salon.” Gender and Society 22.4 (2008): 455–76.Cage, Ken. “An Investigation into the Form and Function of Language Used by Gay Men in South Africa.” Rand Afrikaans University: MA thesis, 1999.Clay, Andreana. “‘I Used to Be Scared of the Dick’: Queer Women of Color and Hip-Hop Masculinity.” Home Girls Make Some Noise: Hip Hop Feminism Anthology. Ed. Gwendolyn D. Pough, Elain Richardson, Aisha Durham, and Rachel Raimist. California: Sojourns, 2007.Collins, Patricia Hill. Black Sexual Politics: African Americans, Gender, and the New Racism. New York: Routledge, 2005. Crenshaw, Kimberle. “Mapping the Margins: Intersectionality, Identity Politics, and Violence against Women of Color”. Stanford Law Review 43.6 (1991): 1241–299.Didier, Sophie, Marianne Morange, and Elisabeth Peyroux. “The Adaptative Nature of Neoliberalism at the Local Scale: Fifteen Years of City Improvement Districts in Cape Town and Johannesburg.” Antipode 45.1 (2012): 121–39.Erasmus, Zimitri. “Introduction.” Coloured by History, Shaped by Place. Ed. Zimitri Erasmus. Cape Town: Kwela Books & SA History Online, 2001. Gates, Henry Louis. The Signifying Monkey: A Theory of Afro-American Literary Criticism. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1988.Gqola, Pumla Dineo. Rape: A South African Nightmare. Johannesburg: Jacana, 2015.Hames, Mary. “Violence against Black Lesbians: Minding Our Language.” Agenda 25.4 (2011): 87–91.Hardt, Michael, and Antonio Negri. Empire. London: Harvard UP, 2000.Haupt, Adam. “Can a Woman in Hip Hop Speak on Her Own Terms?” Africa Is a Country. 23 Mar. 2015. <http://africasacountry.com/2015/03/the-double-consciousness-of-burni-aman-can-a-woman-in-hip-hop-speak-on-her-own-terms/>.Haupt, Adam. Static: Race & Representation in Post-Apartheid Music, Media & Film. Cape Town: HSRC Press, 2012. Haupt, Adam. Stealing Empire: P2P, Intellectual Property and Hip-Hop Subversion. Cape Town: HSRC Press, 2008. Haupt, Adam. “Black Thing: Hip-Hop Nationalism, ‘Race’ and Gender in Prophets of da City and Brasse vannie Kaap.” Coloured by History, Shaped by Place. Ed. Zimitri Erasmus. Cape Town: Kwela Books & SA History Online, 2001. Hebdige, Dick. Subculture: The Meaning of Style. London: Routledge, 1979.Hogg, Christine. “In Salt River Gentrification Often Means Eviction: Family Set to Lose Their Home of 11 Years.” Ground Up. 15 June 2016. <http://www.groundup.org.za/article/salt-river-gentrification-often-means-eviction/>.hooks, bell. Outlaw: Culture: Resisting Representations. New York: Routledge, 1994.Lemanski, Charlotte. “Hybrid Gentrification in South Africa: Theorising across Southern and Northern Cities.” Urban Studies 51.14 (2014): 2943–60.Luyt, Kathryn. “Gay Language in Cape Town: A Study of Gayle – Attitudes, History and Usage.” University of Cape Town: MA thesis, 2014.MacDonald, Michael. Why Race Matters in South Africa. University of Kwazulu-Natal Press: Scottsville, 2006.Msibi, Thabo. “Not Crossing the Line: Masculinities and Homophobic Violence in South Africa”. Agenda. 23.80 (2009): 50–54.Pabón, Jessica N., and Shanté Paradigm Smalls. “Critical Intimacies: Hip Hop as Queer Feminist Pedagogy.” Women & Performance: A Journal of Feminist Theory (2014): 1–7.Salo, Elaine. “Negotiating Gender and Personhood in the New South Africa: Adolescent Women and Gangsters in Manenberg Township on the Cape Flats.” Journal of European Cultural Studies 6.3 (2003): 345–65.Solórzano, Daniel, Miguel Ceja, and Tara Yosso. “Critical Race Theory, Racial Microaggressions, and Campus Racial Climate: The Experiences of African American College Students.” Journal of Negro Education 69.1/2 (2000): 60–73.Sharpley-Whiting, T. Denean. Pimps Up, Ho’s Down: Hip Hop’s Hold on Young Black Women. New York: New York UP, 2007.Smalls, Shanté Paradigm. “‘The Rain Comes Down’: Jean Grae and Hip Hop Heteronormativity.” American Behavioral Scientist 55.1 (2011): 86–95.Visser, Gustav. “Gentrification: Prospects for Urban South African Society?” Acta Academica Supplementum 1 (2003): 79–104.Williams, Quentin E. “Youth Multilingualism in South Africa’s Hip-Hop Culture: a Metapragmatic Analysis.” Sociolinguistic Studies 10.1 (2016): 109–33.Yudell, Michael. “A Short History of the Race Concept.” Race and the Genetic Revolution: Science, Myth, and Culture. Ed. Sheldon Krimsky and Kathleen Sloan. New York: Columbia UP, 2011.InterviewsOvens, Neil, Dope Saint Jude, and Adam Haupt. One FM Radio interview. Cape Town. 21 Apr. 2016.VideosSaint Jude, Dope. “Keep in Touch.” YouTube. 23 Feb. 2015. <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w2ux9R839lE>. H&M. “H&M World Recycle Week Featuring M.I.A.” YouTube. 11 Apr. 2016. <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f7MskKkn2Jg>. MusicSaint Jude, Dope. Reimagine. 15 June 2016. <https://dopesaintjude.bandcamp.com/album/reimagine>.

The Eastern Succession of the Proterozoic Mt Isa Block, including the Cloncurry District and the Mary Kathleen Fold Belt (MKFB), contains numerous examples of Fe-oxide-Cu-Au mineralisation. Most deposits, including Ernest Henry, Eloise, Starra and Mt Elliott formed after the peak of ca. 1600-1575 Ma upper greenschist to amphibolite facies metamorphism, and during the waning phases of the Isan Orogeny. Mineralisation was broadly synchronous with emplacement of voluminous phases of the Williams and Naraku batholiths (ca. 1550 - 1500 Ma) and widespread brecciation and accompanying metasomatism. Brecciation and metasomatism were best developed within Cover Sequence 2 stratigraphy, and in particular within calc-silicate rock and meta-siltstone stratigraphy of the Corella Formation, the predominant rocks of the Mary Kathleen Group. The geometry and distribution of brecciation in the Corella Formation was in part controlled by retrograde buckle folding imposed on a heterogeneous rock sequence that was fractured and boudinaged both pre- and syn-buckle folding. Brecciation is far more widespread in the Cloncurry District relative to the MKFB, reflecting in part a larger proportion of stratigraphy in the Cloncurry District that was at low angles to the shortening direction during the waning phases of the Isan Orogeny, favoring refolding and consequent fracturing. Variations in regional structural trends reflect strain partitioning around competent intrusive bodies, fault reactivation and refolding. Other contributing factors for brecciation include low temperature conditions during late deformation, and the proximity to voluminous intrusions, the emplacement of which likely resulted in transient elevated fluid pressure and strain rates, favoring fracturing and brecciation. The relative paucity of brecciation in most stratigraphic units outside of the Corella Formation reflects a high proportion of incompetent stratigraphy in these sequences (e.g. voluminous micaceous schists within the Soldiers Cap Group), which were able to• accommodate strain by plastic flow. The broad-scale geometry of the Cloncurry District reflects Cover Sequence 3 rocks overlying Cover Sequence 2 rocks, the two sequences being separated by early faults. Marbles within the Corella Formation, and schists in other stratigraphic sequences were not prone to brittle failure, and acted as low permeability barriers to fluid flow. These horizons allowed for the attainment of elevated fluid pressures within large volumes of brecciated rock. During the final stages of brecciation, these low competence marbles and schists were fractured and brecciated, predominantly within discrete fault zones. This shift from widespread brittle-ductile to purely brittle deformation likely reflects progressive cooling, as well as locally elevated fluid pressure and/or strain rate associated with pluton emplacement and degassing. A synchronous district-scale shift from compression to transtension facilitated the development of vertically continuous zones of dilation within faults, resulting in very large fluid pressure gradients and catastrophic fault valving. Brecciation was accompanied by widespread metasomatism that ranges from high temperature (400° - 600°C) Na-(Ca)-rich assemblages (e.g. albite ± actinolite, clinopyroxene, scapolite, magnetite, titanite, etc.) to retrograde (<400°C) chloritic assemblages. Interpretation of stable (0 and C) and radiogenic (Sr) isotopes and mineral chemistry is consistent with this spectrum of alteration assemblages reflecting metasomatic fluids of two predominant origins. The oxygen and carbon isotopic signature of carbonates from Na-(Ca) assemblages indicates that fluids responsible for this style of alteration were not simply equilibrated with magmatic rocks, but were exsolved from crystallizing plutons. Low temperature, low salinity fluids of inferred meteoric origin were introduced late in the paragenesis, and do not appear to have contributed significantly to the mass budgets of eu-Au ore systems in the district. Extensive fluid-wallrock interaction prior to mineralisation appears to have been important in the genesis of some deposits that record K- and Fe-rich alteration haloes, including for example the Ernest Henry deposit. However, the occurrence of skarn-like, intrusion-proximal mineralisation that lacks significant K- and Fe enrichment at for example Mt Elliott, indicates that fluid-wallrock interaction was not a necessary precursor for all styles of Cu-Au mineralisation in the Cloncurry District.

This thesis is a critical and creative exploration of the dynamics by which intertextual literary practices can gain critical and transformative traction in their sociocultural context. From an introduction considering recent debates about the cultural politics of parody, pastiche, and intertextuality allied to avant-garde practice, the study proceeds to an exploration of texts by writers for whom formal and poetic experimentation is allied to a subversive politics: Jean Genet, Monique Wittig, Angela Carter, Kathy Acker, Kathleen Mary Fallon, Kim Scott and Brian Castro. Drawing on theories of intertextuality, parody, representation, and performance from theorists such as Mikhaïl Bakhtin, Julia Kristeva, Gérard Genette, Margaret A. Rose, Linda Hutcheon, Fredric Jameson, Ross Chambers and Judith Butler, these readings explore how a confluence of writing strategies – covering the stylistic, structural, narratological, and scenographic – can work to boost or inhibit a text’s subversive power. The dissertation argues that textual imitation gains its strongest critical and political purchase when it foregrounds its own modes of representation, whether this is on stage or in the scene projected through the writing. The dissertation concludes that, if texts do not act directly on the world, a combination of compositional montage, heteroglossic writing practice, selfreflexive scenography, and carnivalesque writing of the body can deliver an effective critique of oppressive modes of representation. By deconstructing discourses and images whereby power and capital seduce, subjugate, or exclude, by foregrounding the play of contradictions and voices within its own productivity, radical textual practice can also embolden resistance. The literary-critical dissertation is companioned by a creative work, konkretion, which enacts some of the critical subversions examined in the dissertation and explores the cultural relations of poetry and revolution, staging a dialogue between two writers around a poem sequence revisiting the Baader-Meinhof group with a special focus on Ulrike Meinhof and Gudrun Ensslin.

The study commenced by identifying a theological problem relating to the lack of understanding regarding grass-roots African Pentecostal healing praxis. The empirical-theological approach of Van der Ven was utilised, therefore, to study the healing praxis of an African Pentecostal body, called: The Group‘ Assemblies of God, in KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa. Van der Ven‘s original framework was developed by drawing on the hermeneutic and methodological work of Cartledge. A case study was undertaken on a Group‘ Assembly in rural KwaZulu-Natal. The use of social scientific techniques produced a wide range of results that point to the church‘s ministry of healing as a process, rooted in the Trinity, that can occur through varied channels. These pathways ended in a broad understanding of healing. A dialogue between the qualitative results and the healing literature was used to develop a more precise theological question. Case study categories were conceptualised and then operationalised as a questionnaire. A survey was performed on all Assemblies affiliated to The Group‘ Assemblies of God in KwaZulu-Natal. A significant number of people participated in the survey which produced a wide range of data. It is found that worldview and charismatic experience form an important hermeneutic axis that influences attitudes towards the healing ministry. Conservative biblical belief, ethnicity, education and gender influence attitudes towards healing. A distinct divide exists between positive attitudes towards physical, spiritual, inner healing and deliverance and more negative attitudes towards social and environmental healing. The reflection on these results focuses on the perceived influence of American dispensational fundamentalism. The eschatology formed from these beliefs has a narrowing effect on holistic healing ministry. Moltmann‘s transformational eschatology is suggested, therefore, as a suitable alternative. The methodological evaluation finds that several problems exist with regard to research in a rural African location. The cycle concludes by offering a range of suggestions for further study.
Practical Theology
D. Th. (Practical Theology)

In this chapter, Kathleen Chater, an independent historian, enumerates many of the local history projects and academic efforts that have attempted to collect evidence of black lives in pre-twentieth-century Britain, often resulting in the creation of databases and digitized records. She describes the overlapping incentives and challenges of family historians and scholars who work to illuminate black British experiences, but also the mistrust between these groups as they compete for funding and undervalue aspects of each other’s work. Chater describes her own contribution to this field of study—a database of black people she has amassed using public records as part of her doctorate which she has continued to add to. Finally, Chater makes recommendations for how genealogists and local historians can work better with academic scholars toward their common goal including inviting each other to conferences, sharing knowledge of potential funding sources, and asking academics to share their work at smaller, local venues and via more accessible publications.

Chapter 2 provides the theoretical framework for a comparative study of clemency in death penalty cases. It begins by clarifying the terminology used throughout the book, including the local terms used in Southeast Asian legal systems for executive ‘clemency’. Then, drawing in particular from the work of Douglas Hay et al (1975), Leslie Sebba (1977a; 1977b); Kathleen Dean Moore (1989), Daniel Kobil (1991; 2003; 2007), Elizabeth Rapaport (1998–2000; 2001), and Austin Sarat (2005; 2008), Chapter 2 suggests four models of clemency in death penalty cases, based upon the previous academic literature: (1) ‘mercy from the sovereign’ granted solely for the ruler’s benefit; (2) retributivist clemency; (3) redemptive clemency; and (4) clemency for political benefit or utilitarian reasons. Finally, Chapter 2 also summarizes the results of the few multi-jurisdictional studies on capital clemency conducted in the past (e.g. Turrell 2000; Pascoe 2017b; Sebba 1977b; Baumgartner and Morris 2001; The Parliamentary Monitoring Group 2004; Dascalu 2012; Novak 2015; Strange 1996; Tait 2000–1), together with factors that the theoretical literature suggests may contribute to clemency frequency or scarcity. In summary, the theoretical and empirical literature points to the following potential determinants of death penalty clemency: political regime, separation of powers, clemency decision-making structure, structural opportunities for leniency at earlier phases, procedural idiosyncrasies in the criminal justice system, time spent on death row, and predominant religion.

Prehistorians like to think of prehistoric archaeology as the ‘purest’ branch of the discipline, in that interpretation and reconstruction of prehistoric societies is solely dependent upon the principles and techniques of archaeology, untainted by the predisposition of history. The unfortunate polarization of attitudes was only too evident at a recent International Congress of Celtic Studies, at which some younger archaeologists were utterly dismissive of any argument that was based upon classical sources, an intolerance that was only comprehensible in the face of the equally irrational faith placed in these sources, irrespective of context or chronology, by some of their senior colleagues. This kind of uncritical use of texts doubtless underlies Hill's (1989) exhortation that Iron Age archaeological studies should become more like the Neolithic. For others, the present writer included, the challenge of the Iron Age derives largely from the fact that it does span the threshold of history, and that Britain and Europe are therefore populated by named individuals and known communities, not just by inanimate pots and stone artefacts. The age of hillforts is substantially protohistoric, though Christopher Hawkes’ (1954) term parahistoric is probably more accurate for much of the British Iron Age, for which the relevant texts derive from literate neighbours rather than from even a minority literate group among the native community. Archaeologists since Hawkes have sometimes talked about such periods as text-aided, as opposed to prehistoric periods that were text-free. It may be arguable whether the presence of textual sources is an aid or a complication, but the phrase text-free implies a measure of relief that for these periods at least the archaeologist is free to interpret the evidence uninhibited by possible contradiction from historical records. The problem with text-aided archaeology, of course, was that it tended to be text-led; that is, that archaeology was seen as a means of ‘proving’ or at least illuminating history. The subordination of archaeology to history that was implicit in this approach is well illustrated by the way that Sir Leonard Woolley's excavations at Ur were popularly heralded as proving the flood of Genesis, or Kathleen Kenyon's excavations at Jericho were presented as discovering the walls destroyed by Joshua, notwithstanding the fact that the Neolithic town with which she was primarily concerned pre-dated Iron Age Joshua by several millennia.