Endnotes


Vol. 7 No. 4
February/March 2005

Anatomy of a Lullaby
In Emory's growing sleep research program, scholars encounter mystery and paradox

Stealing breath and life
Sleep Apnea

We do have some very good people [in sleep research], and we’re gaining a critical mass to do this kind of work.
Donald L. Bliwise, Professor of Neurology, Program Director, Sleep, Aging and Chronobiology


I think there are valuable things we can learn about how plastic or mutable the circadian system is by looking at people who travel abroad and contend with jet lag, or people from different cultures.
Hillary Rodman, Associate Professor of Psychology


The Power of Sleep
Exploring disorder and disturbance
Kathy P. Parker, Edith F. Honeycutt Professor of Nursing

What’s A Few Drinks Between Friends?
Exploring the ancient drinking party with students
Peter Bing, Associate Professor of Classics

Transforming
and Transformative Knowledge

Practicing what we profess
Karen D. Scheib, Associate Professor of Pastoral Care and Pastoral Theology

Further reading

Endnotes

Return to Contents


 

Dismissing the South
Some academics, often in my own university, have a really hard time coming to terms with my insistence on studying the South. Well-meaning but incredulous colleagues have often wondered why I bother with the South at all. Their comments suggest that an interest in the South is terribly old-fashioned, if not conservative. But such a mindset replays the South’s role in the nation in an academic setting, cordoning the South off as hopelessly out-of-date and backwards, as an embarrassing site of retrograde regionalism. This attitude precisely misses what we can learn from the South—about both the region and the nation, if not the circuits of global capitalism. After all, Wal-Mart, the world’s largest corporation, hails from Arkansas, exporting a new style of plantation economy for the next millennium.

—Tara McPherson, Associate Professor of Critical Studies and Gender Studies, the University of Southern California, from “Re-imagining the Red States: New Directions for Southern Studies,” sponsored by the Program in American Studies and the departments of sociology, women’s studies, film studies, and English, on November 15, 2004

The libido pugilistica

The guys who come into the [boxing] gym already have their own social libido. They have an unformed and an undirected drive to achieve, to affirm themselves. They are looking in a sense for a stage, to fabricate themselves. The gym and the ring give them a particular theater in which they can, in a sense, collectively produce themselves as a new being out of the old. They come to the gate of the gym, and typically they have a street libido, a desire to affirm their masculine prowess. They come from a lower-class milieu in which physical courage and hardness towards pain is highly valorized. But you can have physical courage and an instrumental relationship to your body as a possible resource, and become a whole variety of things. You can become a gang member. You can become a factory worker. And you can become a boxer. One of the things that attracts people to the gym is that they find a protective shield against the streets. It is not what the gym will do to them; it is what the gym takes them away from. For a lot of guys who come into the gym, the origin of libido pugilistica is a negative determination, a desire to escape other fates.

—Loic Wacquant, Distinguished University Professor of Sociology and Anthropology at the New School for Social Research, Professor of Sociology at the University of California-Berkeley, and a Researcher at the Center for European Sociology in Paris, from “Body and Soul: On Becoming an Apprentice Boxer,” sponsored by the Center for the Study of Public Scholarship, December 3, 2004