In Chapter 2, the human is defined for the purpose of legally advocating for the needs of humanity. Biological considerations are made, including the history of Social Darwinism and the misuse of selective traits to legally discriminate.

Chapter 5 develops the spider’s web as a paradigm for comics-making. What can Bechdel’s fear of vomit and her mother’s fear of spiders reveal about inherited attitudes toward the female body and inherited patriarchal values? How do her mother’s unrealized artistic ambitions shadow their bond? This chapter tangles with the spiderwebs that recur throughout Are You My Mother?. Spider webs, I posit, reveal the very productivity of the female body as precisely the sticking point for modern women writers; spiders, after all, extrude their silk from their bellies. However, the spider web attaches by another corner to the symbolism of 1970s lesbian feminism, where it takes on emancipatory political valences as a radial alternative to vertical power structures. The latter part of the chapter demonstrates how Bechdel reclaims the web as an emblem of queer kinship and feminist commitment and community. I conclude with The Secret to Superhuman Strength, with a mapping of its intertextual affiliation with the poet Adrienne Rich, in whom Bechdel discovers what the poet Muriel Rukeyser calls the “moving relation between the individual consciousness and the world.”

This chapter lays out the overall rationale for the book, elucidates some of its key aspects and situates the book in relation to a scholarly field of feminist jurisprudence in India. It introduces the established convention of diversity in the field of Indian feminist jurisprudence, which this book joins with and expands. The chapter offers an illustration of the field by introducing the body of literature that the book is drawing from and contributing to and foregrounds that there are different voices in the field each of which speaks from a different locus both within and outside Indian legal academia. Simultaneously, the chapter explains the relevance of caste and how it hierarchically organises the field of intellectual labour in India.

Personality disorders are classically understood as treatable maladaptive phenotypes that result from biological and psycho-historical facts about people. Some writers and campaigners dissent from this view and offer a more relational/political perspective: we should think not in terms of disordered personalities, but in terms of emotional responses to early life events that are more or less empathically understood in context. In this chapter, I briefly outline these two frames on personality disorder and set them up as a dialectic. I suggest that there is a way of synthesizing the two approaches to arrive at a dual-aspect approach to personality disorders. Personality is the result of biological and psychological facts about people, but it is also a relationally mediated phenomenon. Only by appreciating both of these aspects of personality can we develop a full understanding of what personality disorders are.

This chapter introduces you to a relational approach to citizenship education, one that is grounded in how educators can and do engage children in coming together to interact with and learn from others in their communities. In this chapter, we are interested in a broad understanding of citizenship education, one which might be better understood as education for citizenship. While commonly understood as either a ‘status’ or a ‘practice’, this chapter argues that citizenship, above all else, concerns relationships. Recognising this fact requires us as educators to consider how civic relationships have been and are (often problematically) framed and how relational pedagogies can recognise and draw upon learners’ existing civic dispositions, might develop those civic dispositions further, and can build civically responsive educational settings. The chapter will provide a critical overview of relevant existing research on citizenship education before developing key features, including key pedagogical features, of a relational approach to citizenship education.

The Introduction critiques the dominant critical-musicological picture of Romanticism as a nineteenth-century aesthetic paradigm emphasizing artistic autonomy and escape from the social, and posits an alternative. Romantic ideas of sociality in art and music differed from modern materialist accounts in highlighting the mediatory role of emotion or feeling alongside further ‘ideal’ or imaginative factors in listeners’ experience. Such ideas converge with recent contributions in sociology, music studies, anthropology and philosophy which frame affect in social, holistic terms as atmosphere, Stimmung (mood or “attunement”) and correspondence. These are summarized in the term ‘affective relationality’. In both musicology after Carl Dahlhaus and the recent history of emotions, a watershed c.1800 has separated the Romantic paradigm from its eighteenth-century predecessors, instead of paying attention to the continuity between eighteenth-century sentimentality and Romanticism. This ‘sentimental-Romantic’ continuum is exemplified by Mme de Staël, whose writings’ resonances with the book’s chapters are explored.

Taking seriously other ways that languages can be understood is of significance for both practical and political reasons. If language revival or other applied projects need practical theories of language, they need to be drawn from concerned communities rather than imported from elsewhere. For many Indigenous people, language is deeply connected to land, or what is commonly known as Country in Australia, which can include not only earth, dwellings and place but also water, animals, wind and other beings. Language within these ways of thinking is not connected primarily to people but to land or Country. It is because these ways of thinking about language are so different from a consideration of language as structure, as object, as separate from people and the world, that many language revival projects have struggled. As long as Indigenous languages are thought of in terms of non-Indigenous ontologies, there will always be at best misunderstanding. On these grounds, Indigenous language activists have called for local control of language reclamation projects and the need to decolonize what is meant by language.

This book unsettles regular accounts of knowledge about language in several ways. The idea of assemblages allows for a flexibility about what languages are, not just in terms of having fuzzy linguistic boundaries but in terms of what constitutes language more generally. Languages are assembled from different elements, both linguistic elements as traditionally understood as well as items less commonly included. This is to approach language not as a pre-existing or circumscribed entity but rather as something produced in social action. Language from this point of view is embedded in diverse social and physical environments, distributed across the material world and part of our embodied existence. Once we ask whose version of language counts, we have to base any practical theory of language on what language is within a local ontology. This necessitates an engagement with language ideological assemblages and an understanding that languages are inevitably locally made assemblages (linguistic, semiotic and material). Applied linguistics as a practical assemblage is one way we can start to address the needs for a practical theory of language that can remain both plural and political.

This chapter provides an overview of the theory of relationality – the idea that people care about how others relate to them, and whether they can successfully relate to others – and how potential collaborators can be uncertain about these relational aspects. “Relating to others” captures both the information to be shared, and also the experience of interacting. Key to the theory of relationality, as it applies to potential collaborators with diverse forms of expertise, is that status-based stereotypes can drive a wedge between having expertise and having that expertise be socially recognized. This chapter builds up to a series of hypotheses about how potential collaborators care about the information to be shared and the experience of interacting when choosing whether to engage in new collaborative relationships with diverse thinkers. It also identifies several possible interventions for fostering valuable new collaborative relationships.

In this chapter, the authors focus on working collaboratively with the wider community to engage in ECEfS values. They do this through discussing a story from the field from Korea, where children actively engaged in a project to protect local wildlife, and a collaboration in Australia between an early childhood university academic with an interest in participatory and arts-based approaches that support listening to children, and an environmental educator with the local council. Each project demonstrates the value of shared goals, openness and trust between partners. The Australian project was based at the Mary Cairncross Scenic Reserve, a public environmental visitor centre situated in a popular rainforest reserve on the Sunshine Coast in Queensland, Australia, and comprised partnerships between environmental education centre staff and volunteers, student teachers, early childhood practitioners and children aged from 3 to 10 years. The ripple effects of these projects led to powerful ways of thinking and doing ECEfS that enriched child, family and community connections, and strengthened individual, collective and organisational commitments to sustainability.

Chapter 12 covers AN INTRODUCTION TO RESEARCH DESIGN and includes the following specific topics, among others: Descriptive, Relational, and Causal Research Studies , Blocking, Quasi-Experimental Designs, Threats to Internal Validity, and Threats to External Validity.

Chapter 12 covers an introduction to research design and includes the following specific topics, among others: descriptive, relational, and causal research studies, blocking, quasi-experimental designs, threats to internal validity, and threats to external validity.

This chapter defines care in the context of cultural heritage, drawing on the work of Joan Tronto, who treats care as both a disposition and a process. Central to this is the notion that care represents how people care about cultural heritage, but also the action of caring for it. Given the multitude of communities that care about, and care for, cultural heritage, it is clear that care is relational in nature. Building on the work of other academics who have analysed the nature of care, this chapter applies these to the context of cultural heritage and identifies the central elements of care as (a) developing and sustaining relationships; (b) acknowledging and assuming responsibilities; and (c) identifying and maintaining the appropriate care in the circumstances and revisiting this regularly. The need for caution with the concept of care is addressed, in particular to ensure that care is not paternalistic. Any system of care needs to build in space for revisiting the current allocation of care to determine whether it remains appropriate.

Chapter 5 explores transitivity systems and structures. It concentrates on the evidence used to motivate descriptions of paradigmatic relations. At stake here is the weight given to evidence of different kinds, including arguing from above, around and below. This chapter also foregrounds the cline of delicacy with respect to both system and structure, exploring what happens when general transitivity classes are explored in greater detail and issues that arise with respect to how much subclassification should be reflected in function structure labelling.

This chapter describes our understanding of violence as pain-based behaviour. We give a comprehensive overview of current best practice, NICE guidelines and research in terms of its conceptualisation, assessment, formulation and treatment, preventive and reactive. We describe the specific considerations that need to be taken into account in working with children, in particular their development, the quality of the relationships and systems around them, legal and ethical issues and principles of child-centred practice. The chapter includes an overview of the current UK provision of services, NHS, secure and otherwise, for children whose distress is communicated through violence, with reference to the recent impact of COVID-19. Finally, we take an organizational perspective, looking at the dynamics aroused in individuals, teams and systems in this sphere of work, and describing theory and research that offers help in working through and resolving the difficulties that arise.

This chapter sets out the central argument of this book – that personal bioinformation has critical roles to play in our construction of self-narratives that are capable of remaining coherent and inhabitable when confronted by our embodied and socially embedded experiences and of supporting us in making sense of and navigating these experiences. It suggests that our lives and experiences are inescapably those of embodied beings and outlines what is entailed by this claim. It proposes that any satisfactory account of narrative self-constitution must accommodate the significance of our embodiment as the context in which we construct our self-narratives and as the source of both narrative contents and limits upon unfettered self-definition. From these premises, this chapter argues that personal bioinformation – to the extent that it provides reliable and meaningful insights into our bodily and biological states, capacities, and relationships – can provide vital constitutive and interpretive tools for the interpretation and construction of our embodied self-narratives. This discussion distinguishes its position from suggestions that personal bioinformation gets us closer to narrative ‘truth’ and responds to concerns that proposing a narrative role for bioinformation commits us to the view that our identities are defined by our biology or bodies as objects.