Posted under American history & Bodily modification & jobs & students & the body & unhappy endings & weirdness
Not me–it’s Fratguy who’s under the (rather cool and rainy) weather, and another family member is undergoing a surgery today! It’s going around, apparently.
Fratguy has experienced malaria-like fevers for the past 36 hours or so, which is a little too much Stanislavski-like method medicine and/or method colonial American history for me, but there you go. He says it’s just a virus, which I think is a ruse designed to get me off his back rather than take him to see a physician. Back in 1991 when he was in medical school and broke, Fratguy enrolled in a medical experiment for a malaria vaccine funded by the U.S. Army. It was just like that old OFF commercial: after getting the vaccine, he had to stick his arm into a tank full of falciparum-infected mosquitoes and get bitten by them! Well, guess what? The vaccine didn’t work, so he got malaria. (And when you’ve had malaria, that’s a lifetime get-out-of-jail-free card for blood donation!) But, he also got a ski trip to Whistler out of the deal, and I get a great little anecdote to trot out whenever I’m lecturing on the horrors of Jamestown or on the early English settlements in the Chesapeake and Caribbean in general. Score! Continue Reading »

Here’s an interesting article in Salon by Ann Bauer, ”
It’s interesting (and sadly unsurprising) to me that two of the most powerful and emotional arguments the right-wing is mounting against health care reform have women’s bodies–or, more specifically, their uteri–at the center of them. First of all, of course,
I have colleagues who have written articles and books on food history. I don’t consider food history one of my main subfields, but I’ve learned a lot from food historians, and their work has been incredibly useful to me as a historian who works on the intersections of ethnicity, religion, gender, and identity. I’ve learned a lot recently, for example, on the consumption of dog meat by Native peoples in the Americas, and how Wabanaki people might have survived on gathered foods in the Maine woods, winter and summer. (If you find yourself in need of a North woods cure for scurvy, I’m your gal.) The pretext for all of this Survivor Woman: colonial edition research is that I’m writing some book chapters about a little girl right now, and I’m interested in her food ecologies because I think food would probably have been something of urgent and pressing interest to her, especially because I’m coming to the conclusion that she was probably hungry more often than she wasn’t. 

