The purpose of this paper is to present a framework for resilience education that can be used by teachers in schools. The paper seeks to identify a common language for exploring…
Abstract
Purpose
The purpose of this paper is to present a framework for resilience education that can be used by teachers in schools. The paper seeks to identify a common language for exploring the concept of resilience.
Design/methodology/approach
The paper presents an overview of the construct of resilience as it appears in the literature. It provides a rationale for resilience education by examining the changing circumstances that impact on the work of educators. It also provides an overview of current Australian programs that promote resilience.
Findings
After an extensive examination of the literature, it is suggested that resilience is discussed in the literature as a state, a condition and a practice. Consequently, a three‐dimensional framework has been developed from this to help teachers understand resilience and to provide practical ways in which they can promote the resilience of their learners.
Practical implications
This conceptual paper suggests that the three‐dimensional framework for resilience has implications for supporting the mental health and wellbeing of children and young people. The paper highlights the important role of the school in enhancing resilience for children and young people.
Originality/value
The original work of this paper is the presentation of a three‐dimensional framework for resilience: as a state, a condition and a practice. This framework is useful for preservice teacher education programs and for the professional development of practising teachers.
At a meeting of the Section of Epidemiology and State Medicine of the Royal Society of Medicine on March 8th, Captain M. Greenwood, of the Lister Institute, and Miss Cecily M…
Abstract
At a meeting of the Section of Epidemiology and State Medicine of the Royal Society of Medicine on March 8th, Captain M. Greenwood, of the Lister Institute, and Miss Cecily M. Thompson reported the results of an epidemiological study of the food problem. In an introductory account of the present state of physiological knowledge it was pointed out that, although certain matters—such, for instance, as the precise significance of the specific dynamic energy of foodstuffs —were still obscure, “ the real difficulty of the subject is not so much uncertainty respecting the justice of the physiologists' conclusions as the quantitative application of principles themselves clearly established.” In the second section of the paper the problem of muscular efficiency was discussed, and it was shown that existing knowledge is insufficient for the formulation of general rules, that each class of work must be specially considered with particular reference to the external conditions under which it is carried out. In the third section of the paper the statistics of consumption were reviewed, and it was shown that in them the relation between energy used and surface was not so close as might be expected on general grounds ; the authors concluded that the necessary uncertainty attaching to such data explained the lack of close concordance. They then gave a minute analysis of some data due to Amar with reference to muscular work, which they showed were fully concordant with physiological expectation. Standard tables giving the probable energy need for workers of different weights and doing different amounts of work had been calculated. A table containing Lefèvre's results on the heat loss of a clothed man exposed to different temperatures and air velocities was also exhibited ; the importance of this aspect of the matter and the value of Hill's investigations upon rates of cooling in connexion with rationing were emphasized. In the concluding section of the paper the effects of food shortage were discussed, and it was pointed out that a majority of the recorded famine sicknesses were not pure hunger effects, shortage of fuel and antecedent or coincident epidemic disease being chiefly responsible. The siege of Paris in 1870, that of Kut‐el‐Amara in 1915, and the historical outbreak of disease at the Millbank penitentiary mentioned recently although not pure famine effects, approximated more nearly to such a condition than any others recorded. From a study of the sequence of events in these cases in relation with the energy value of the diets consumed, it appeared that in each case the onset of sickness was gradual, and that its form depended upon local epidemiological considerations. The authors held that there was no one disease which stood in a peculiarly close relation to inanition ; that there was a general and gradual lowering of resistance to all forms of infection.
THE London and Home Counties Branch is fortunate in having close at hand watering places which can house its Autumn or other Conferences conveniently. Hove in fair weather in…
Abstract
THE London and Home Counties Branch is fortunate in having close at hand watering places which can house its Autumn or other Conferences conveniently. Hove in fair weather in October is a place of considerable charm; it has many varieties of hotel, from the very expensive to the modest; it is used to conferences and the hospitality of the Town Hall is widely known. This year's conference was focused in the main on problems of book‐selection which, as one writer truly says, is the main purpose of the librarian because all his possibilities hang upon it. The papers read are valuable because they appear to be quite unvarnished accounts of the individual practice of their writers. Of its kind that of Mr. Frank M. Gardner is a model and a careful study of it by the library worker who is in actual contact with the public might be useful. For his methods the paper must be read; they are a clever up‐to‐minute expansion of those laid down in Brown's Manual with several local checks and variations. Their defects are explained most usefully; there is no examination of actual books before purchase and bookshops are not visited, both of which defects are due to the absence in Luton of well‐stocked bookshops; a defect which many sizeable towns share. We find this remark significant: “The librarian of Luton in 1911 had a book‐fund of £280 a year for 30,000 people. I have nearly £9,000 for 110,000. But the Librarian in 1911 was a better book‐selector than we are. He had to be, to give a library service at all. Every possible purchase had to be looked at, every doubt eliminated.” We deprecate the word “better”; in 1911 book‐selection was not always well done, but Brown's methods could be carried out if it was thought expedient to do the work as well as it could be done. The modern librarian and his employers seem to have determined that the whole of the people shall be served by the library; that books shall be made available hot from the press, with as few exclusions as possible. No librarian willingly buys rubbish; but only in the largest libraries can a completely comprehensive selection practice be maintained. Few librarians can be quite satisfied to acquire their books from lists made by other people although they may use them for suggestions. How difficult is the problem Mr. Gardner demonstrates in connexion with books on Bridge; a shelf of apparently authoritative books might possibly contain not one that actually met the conditions of today. If this could be so in one very small subject, what might be the condition of a collection covering, or intended to cover, all subjects? Librarians have to be realists; orthodox methods do not always avail to deal with the cataract of modern books; but gradually, by cooperative methods, mechanical aids and an ever‐increasing staff devoted to this, the principal library job, much more may be done than is now possible.
WE begin a new year, in which we wish good things for all who work in libraries and care for them, in circumstances which are not unpropitious. At times raven voices prophesy the…
Abstract
WE begin a new year, in which we wish good things for all who work in libraries and care for them, in circumstances which are not unpropitious. At times raven voices prophesy the doom of a profession glued to things so transitory as books are now imagined to be, by some. Indeed, so much is this a dominant fear that some librarians, to judge by their utterances, rest their hopes upon other recorded forms of knowledge‐transmission; forms which are not necessarily inimical to books but which they think in the increasing hurry of contemporary life may supersede them. These fears have not been harmful in any radical way so far, because they may have increased the librarian's interest in the ways of bringing books to people and people to books by any means which successful business firms use (for example) to advertise what they have to sell. The modern librarian becomes more and more the man of business; some feel he becomes less and less the scholar; but we suggest that this is theory with small basis in fact. Scholars are not necessarily, indeed they can rarely be, bookish recluses; nor need business men be uncultured. For men of plain commonsense there need be few ways of life that are so confined that they exclude their followers from other ways and other men's ideas and activities. And, as for the transitoriness of books and the decline of reading, we ourselves decline to acknowledge or believe in either process. Books do disappear, as individuals. It is well that they do for the primary purpose of any book is to serve this generation in which it is published; and, if there survive books that we, the posterity of our fathers, would not willingly let die, it is because the life they had when they were contemporary books is still in them. Nothing else can preserve a book as a readable influence. If this were not so every library would grow beyond the capacity of the individual or even towns to support; there would, in the world of readers, be no room for new writers and their books, and the tragedy that suggests is fantastically unimaginable. A careful study, recently made of scores of library reports for 1951–52, which it is part of our editorial duty to make, has produced the following deductions. Nearly every public library, and indeed other library, reports quite substantial increases in the use made of it; relatively few have yet installed the collections of records as alternatives to books of which so much is written; further still, where “readers” and other aids to the reading of records, films, etc., have been installed, the use of them is most modest; few librarians have a book‐fund that is adequate to present demands; fewer have staffs adequate to the demands made upon them for guidance by the advanced type of readers or for doing thoroughly the most ordinary form of book‐explanation. It is, in one sense a little depressing, but there is the challenging fact that these islands contain a greater reading population than they ever had. One has to reflect that of our fifty millions every one, including infants who have not cut their teeth, the inhabitants of asylums, the illiterate—and, alas, there are still thousands of these—and the drifters and those whose vain boast is that “they never have time to read a book”—every one of them reads six volumes a year. A further reflection is that public libraries may be the largest distributors, but there are many others and in the average town there may be a half‐dozen commercial, institutional and shop‐libraries, all distributing, for every public library. This fact is stressed by our public library spending on books last year at some two million pounds, a large sum, but only one‐tenth of the money the country spent on books. There are literally millions of book‐readers who may or may not use the public library, some of them who do not use any library but buy what they read. The real figure of the total reading of our people would probably be astronomical or, at anyrate, astonishing.
This chapter explores the development of the dangerous, sexualized fembot archetype in science-fiction film and television, drawing a line from the robot Maria in Fritz Lang's…
Abstract
This chapter explores the development of the dangerous, sexualized fembot archetype in science-fiction film and television, drawing a line from the robot Maria in Fritz Lang's Metropolis (1927) to contemporary versions of the archetype.
Primarily, this chapter outlines how this historically villainous trope has been augmented and redefined in twenty-first Century posthuman science-fiction texts Ex Machina (Alex Garland, 2014) and Westworld (Joy et al., 2016 –). Both feature fembot characters who are central to the narrative, and can be defined as both villainous at times, but who also occupy the position of arguable sympathetic protagonists. In part, this redefinition can be argued as more a reflection of a Western hegemonic shift towards feminist values. Nevertheless, there have been criticisms of the male gaze present in both and of the emphasis on female suffering.
As oblique texts for an 18–35 audience, both Ex Machina and Westworld ask more questions than they answer. Through textual analysis and with reference to relevant scholarship, this chapter considers the impact of audience and institution on representation, the interplay between genre conventions and the presentation of the archetype as well as a considering how both offer different treatment of intersectional androids.