Unfortunately for my loved ones and colleagues, my anxiety level is always sky-high before teaching a new course. And this isn’t just before the semester begins; it’s before every single class meeting!

That was true this past spring for my new course called Disability and Disease in U.S. History. Want to hear a snippet of my conversation with myself as I tried to talk myself down?

“There are so many different kinds of disabilities and diseases; how could I possibly know the history of all of them?!?”

“Chill, Mary Jo,” said my more reasonable self. “You don’t have to teach everything. Students can explore their individual interests in the project.”

“But the project is an entirely new kind! I don’t know anything about designing a museum exhibit!”

“Instead of panicking you could remember that the project is interesting, authentic, and allows students to be creative while applying their knowledge, and that you have colleagues in Museum Studies and Public History who can help you.”

“But class will be confusing to students because we’re discussing different diseases and disabilities!

Or perhaps you could try to design a periodization assignment to help them be less confused? It might even become one of your favorite assignments!”

“What if the students hate me and think I’m an imposter since I’m not an expert?” “You’re always afraid students will hate you. Besides, don’t you think that students who sign up for this elective course will do so because they care about and are curious about the topic?”

This blog post is a reminder to myself of the satisfactions in teaching a new course in an area of history that I find important – even and perhaps especially one that stretches me. I love teaching social history because it honors the experiences of “regular” (non-elite) people and focuses on the experiences relevant to their day-to-day lives.

Students tend to find social history fascinating too because they haven’t studied it much before and it offers an entirely different lens into understanding the past. And as predicted by my more rational self, many of the students who took this course were especially motivated to learn because they, their loved ones, or people they know have disabilities or diseases. To make a long story short, students’ end-of-semester reflections revealed several different ways they found the course valuable.

Concepts that Mattered to Students

Students learned that disability is socially constructed.

Kim Nielsen’s great book made it abundantly clear that people’s experiences were not simply affected by how their bodies and minds functioned but also by societal attitudes and values and the practices of governments, employers, educational systems, communities, and families. Students were blown away by the extreme differences for people with disabilities in different time periods and in different cultures, being especially struck by the views of pre-colonial indigenous peoples and the Martha’s Vineyard islanders in the 18^th century who all knew sign language.

Students thought about how Americans have traditionally valued independence and self-reliance. Unfortunately, when people with disabilities have been associated with weakness and dependence (rather than seen as regular people with various abilities and challenges), that led to inequality, stigmatization, and/or pity. Students pondered: aren’t we all dependent in some ways on others? Is interdependence bad? Aren’t we all complex individuals with many aspects to our identities? Shouldn’t we avoid judging people by only one aspect of their identities?

Other concepts students found noteworthy included:

• The importance of community – for both happiness and social change
• Intersectionality (i.e., intersections with race, gender, and socioeconomic class magnified difficulties people with disabilities encountered).
• Progress isn’t necessarily linear
• When you put people with disability at the center of American history, you might view traditional periodization in a different manner.

Aspects of U.S. History that Mattered

Some of students’ takeaways were about events. Distressing ones included the many states that passed laws encouraging the forced sterilization of people with intellectual or development disabilities (okayed by the Supreme Court in Buck v. Bell) and the “Ugly Laws” that some municipalities like Chicago passed in 1881 to keep diseased, maimed, and mutilated people off the city’s streets. Students were far more pleased to learn about Gallaudet’s Deaf President Now! and the Section 504 protests.

Students also came to view some familiar people and time periods in a new light. The confident Franklin Roosevelt so desperately wanted to hide the extent of his disability that the Secret Service forcibly took the film from photographers who had captured him in a wheelchair. Massachusetts patriot activist James Otis, Jr. became more complex when understood as someone struggling with mental illness. Inventor Alexander Graham Bell’s misguided educational philosophy of “oralism” prevented deaf children from communicating in the language (ASL) that was most effective for their learning. His well-intended philosophy was also tinged with nativism and kept deaf people from finding community. On early 20^th century immigration, one student reported, “I had no idea how strict the U.S. government was about who to let in, simply based on how they looked. If someone was missing a tooth, limped, or … even if they looked ‘funny’ to whatever officer was looking at them, they just weren’t let in.”

Useful Knowledge – About Self and Others

A future journalist appreciated understanding more about communities of people with disabilities and respectful language to use in her articles. A campus sorority leader in DEI felt her consciousness had been raised. One student already had found a summer internship at a museum with a focus on accessibility. Another concerned about social change pointed to the importance of the phrase, “Nothing About Us, Without Us.”

One student revealed that his whole life he had been very hard on himself about having a learning disability and now felt “that studying this history has greatly changed my own attitude on my own disability.” Another student revealed, “I have more confidence in my abilities, knowing now that I am defined by so many other qualities beyond bipolar disorder. Dr. Kay Redfield Jamison’s book has deeply resonated with me and will continue to do so, as for me personally it was inspiring to see a woman with a similar illness to my own live such a full, flourishing, and impressive professional life.”

The course “helped me question my own biases, values, and assumptions about disability, allowing me to foster a deeper understanding of myself and my place in society,” said another. Some students realized assumptions they’d been making, especially about appearances. One reported, “I am less quick to judge or make assumptions, and find myself coming into new conversations with a much more open mindset.”

As for me, I too learned about new aspects of American history and some of my own assumptions – especially about self-reliance and not asking for help. In that spirit, if you are considering teaching a similar course, I highly recommend it and would be happy to discuss materials.

My conclusion: I need to push through my anxieties and trust myself and the course content!