Séminaire d’histoire de la psychiatrie

Le Nouvel Hôpital Saint-Anne<br />Le nouveau bâtiment Joseph Lévy-Valensi de l'Hôpital Sainte-Anne à Paris quelques jours avant son inauguration.<br />Une construction d’environ 10 000 M2, de 112 lits et places, sur le site de l'hopital psychiatrique historique de Sainte-Anne (1867), rue Cabanis.<br />Ce nouveau bâtiment héberge des unités de psychiatrie universitaire, la Clinique des Maladies Mentales et de l’Encéphale (CMME) et des unités de psychiatrie de secteur.<br />Photos © Razak

Le Nouvel Hôpital Saint-Anne
Le nouveau bâtiment Joseph Lévy-Valensi de l’Hôpital Sainte-Anne à Paris quelques jours avant son inauguration. Une construction d’environ 10 000 M2, de 112 lits et places, sur le site de l’hopital psychiatrique historique de Sainte-Anne (1867), rue Cabanis. Ce nouveau bâtiment héberge des unités de psychiatrie universitaire, la Clinique des Maladies Mentales et de l’Encéphale (CMME) et des unités de psychiatrie de secteur.
Photos © Razak

Coordonné par le Pr Julien-Daniel Guelfi et le Dr François Bing

Sous l’égide du Dr Jacques Postel

Ce séminaire a lieu le deuxième mardi de chaque mois à 20h.

Petit amphithéâtre, ex. CMME

Centre Hospitalier Sainte Anne

108 rue de la Santé 75014 Paris

Renseignements : François Bing, tél : 01.40.13.06.15

Programme 2012-2013

9 octobre 2012

Introduction à l’histoire de la psychiatrie, François Bing

13 novembre 2012

Histoire des thérapeutiques en psychiatrie, Michel Caire

11 décembre 2012

Introduction à l’histoire de la pédopsychiatrie, Thierry Gineste

8 janvier 2013

Éléments historiques sur les addictions, Marc Valleur

12 février 2013

Michel Foucault et l’histoire de la folie, Jean-François Braunstein

19 mars 2013

Corps et psychiatrie, Françoise Giromini

9 avril 2013

Histoire de l’art thérapie, Anne-Marie Dubois

14 mai 2013

Évolution des classifications américaines en psychiatrie, Julien-Daniel Guelfi

11 juin 2013

Le concept de psychose de Freud à Lacan, Alain Vanier

Exposition : Entrée des médiums. Spiritisme et art de Hugo à Breton

Du 18 octobre 2012 au 20 janvier 2013, la Maison de Victor Hugo (Paris) propose une exposition consacrée au spiritisme et à l’art durant les XIXe et XXe siècles :

Cette exposition propose un regard historique sur les productions artistiques du spiritisme, étranges et involontaires, dont les médiums ne pensaient même pas être les auteurs mais les attribuaient à des voix et des mains d’outre-tombe.

En septembre 1853, suscitée par la visite de Delphine de Girardin à Jersey, la pratique des « tables parlantes » devient l’occupation principale de la famille Hugo. Jusqu’en octobre 1855, les tables dictent, dessinent même, exerçant une influence majeure sur la pensée et la création de Victor Hugo. Sous les mains de son fils Charles, le médium de ces séances, elles confirment du sceau de l’au-delà, la vérité d’un fonds d’idées philosophiques préexistant et qui, enrichi, va irriguer l’œuvre et le bouillonnement poétique et littéraire à venir.

En 1933, André Breton publie dans la revue Minotaure, « Le Message automatique » qui constitue une véritable entrée des médiums sur la scène artistique et la reconnaissance de leur rôle dans l’accroissement du domaine de la création vers les zones inconnues ou tout juste défrichée de notre inconscient.
Se donnant ces deux dates pour limites, l’exposition tente de rendre sensible le surgissement d’une nouvelle esthétique et d’un nouvel imaginaire qui vont, entre autres, alimenter le surréalisme ou grossir le flot de l’art brut.  Elle s’appuie sur des œuvres rarement exposées, sinon inédites, mises en relation avec les productions « littéraires » dictées par les tables.

Parmi les médiums se côtoient l’écrivain, le mineur ou l’employée, le modeste prend place à côté du  génie pour lever le voile sur le merveilleux. Cette exposition leur rend hommage à travers les œuvres de Victor et Charles Hugo, Victorien Sardou, Fernand Desmoulin, Hélène Smith, Gustave Le Goarant de Tromelin, Hugo d’Alesi, Augustin Lesage, Marjan Gruzewski, Marthe Béraud, Franek Kluski, Man Ray, Robert Desnos, André Masson, Yves Tanguy, Nadja, Nina Karasek, Madge Gill, Philippe Deloison… et d’anonymes.

« Si la science ne veut pas de ces faits, l’ignorance les prendra » déclarait Victor Hugo. L’exposition insiste aussi sur le mouvement d’étude suscité par les phénomènes spirites et en particulier sur la métapsychique – grâce à l’aide de l’IMI (Institut métapsychique international) –  qui a tenté de les comprendre, ouvrant une voie de réflexion sur les capacités de l’esprit humain et de l’inconscient.

Le catalogue de l’exposition, rehaussé de diverses illustrations inédites, comporte des contributions de Bertrand Méheust, Renaud Evrard, Jérôme Godeau, Gérard Audinet et Alexandra Bacopoulos-Viau.

Pour plus d’informations, cliquer ici.

UN – Global Mental Health, WHO Action Plan, Oct. 11, 2012

The NGO Committee on Mental Health

Affiliated with the Conference of Non-Governmental Organizations (CoNGO)

in Consultative Relationship with the United Nations

presents

In Commemoration of World Mental Health Day

 

“Global Mental Health, WHO Action Plan 2013-2020:

Integrating Physical and Mental Health”

 

 

The World Health Organization (WHO) projects that depression will be the number one global burden of disease by 2030, surpassing heart disease and cancer, and anticipated to be the number two burden by 2020. The 2011 UN Summit on Non-Communicable Diseases (NCDs) addressed the rapid increase of chronic illnesses and the need to focusing on primary care to develop effective prevention and intervention steps, including the need for behavioral and mental health strategies.  The May 2012 World Health Assembly Resolution to develop country wide mental health programs and the drafting of the recent draft WHO Global Mental Health Action Plan to implement strategies are essential to curbing this looming epidemic, as well as from the trauma and emotional disorders arising from violence, war, and conflict that not only threaten global well-being, but the economies of all nations.

 

Thursday, October 11, 2012

2:00-4:00 PM

U.N. Church Center

777 United Nations Plaza, New York City, NY

44th Street and First Ave.

2nd Floor Conference Room

Please RSVP to mentalhealthngo@optonline.net

 

MODERATOR  AND INTRODUCTIONS

Dr. Elizabeth Carll

Chair, NGO Committee on Mental Health; U.N. Representative, International Society

for Traumatic Stress Studies; President, CCCUN

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS

Dr. Jacob Kumaresan

Executive Director

WHO Office at the United Nations, New York; WHO Action Plan for Mental Health 2013-2020

 

Adama Diop,

First Vice President, Conference of NGOs (CoNGO)

 

PARTICIPANTS

H. E. Dr. Josephine Ojiambo – Keynote

Ambassador and Deputy Permanent Representative

Republic of Kenya to the United Nations

 

Dr. Gabriel Ivbijaro 

Chair, Waltham Forest Clinical Commissioning Group, London; Joint editor Wonca/WHO -“Integrating Mental Health into Primary Care: A Global Perspective”; Europe Vice President, WFMH

 

Terrie M. Williams

Founder/President, Terrie Williams Agency; Mental Health Advocate; Author, “Black Pain: It Just Looks Like We’re Not Hurting” led to national mental health advocacy campaign “Sharing Ourselves..Healing Starts With Us”

 

GROUP DISCUSSION – AUDIENCE Q & A

Further information contact mentalhealthngo@optonline.net

Co-sponsored by

  Communications Coordination Committee for the United Nations (CCCUN);  International Council of Women (ICW);  National Council of Women-USA;  World Federation for Mental Health (WFMH); International Society for Traumatic Stress Studies (ISTSS); International Council of Psychologists (ICP);  NGO Committee on Ageing; NGO Committee on Sustainable Development; International Association of Applied Psychology (IAAP);  World Council of Psychotherapy;  International Union of Anthropological and Ethnological Sciences;  International Association of Schools of Social Work;  Human Rights Congress for Bangladesh Minorities (HRCBM); NGO Forum for Health, Geneva  

The Brain and the Mind – King’s College London

How much of who we are is mind, and how much is brain?

The Centre for the Humanities and Health at King’s College London and the Wellcome Trust are putting together a series of debates between neuroscientists, artists, philosophers and analysts. Organized by Lisa Appignanesi and Lara Feigel, this series contains a number of events including the following talks, open to all:

– “The Brain, Free Will and the Inner Life” (18 October 2012)

– “Darwin, Biology and the Brain’s Order and Disorders” (22 November 2012)

– “The Workings of Empathy” (4 December 2012)

– “Autism and the Concept of Psychological Normality” (31 January 2013)

– “The Gendered Brain” (26 February 2013)

– “You Must Remember This” (28 March 2013)

Speakers include Lisa Appignanesi, Simon Baron-Cohen, A. S. Byatt, Imogen Cooper, Tim Crane, Anthony David, David Papineau, and others.

For more information and booking details, click here.

Colloque : Clés des songes et sciences des rêves (Paris, 1er-2 octobre)

Clés des songes et sciences des rêves

Journées d’études du Labex HASTEC (qui coincident avec la parution du livre Nuits savantesde Jacqueline Carroy, aux éditions de l’EHESS)

Organisées par Jacqueline Carroy et Juliette Lancel

Lundi 1er et mardi 2 octobre

EHESS – Salle du conseil

190-198, avenue de France – 75013 Paris

Le rêve n’est pas seulement un objet physiologique et psychologique
anhistorique. C’est aussi un objet social et historique que l’on met en récit et/ou en
image pour étayer une pratique, une croyance, un savoir ou une science.
On peut faire l’hypothèse que c’est à la fin du XVIIIe siècle et au début du
XIXe que des médecins, des philosophes et des amateurs cultivés ont voulu faire
science à partir, notamment, de la notation méthodique de leurs propres rêves au
réveil. Les exemples de rêves devaient permettre d’analyser scientifiquement la
formation de ceux-ci pour faire échec aux « superstitions » en montrant que les
productions nocturnes ne renvoyaient pas à l’avenir mais au passé. De façon
provocante, Freud a revendiqué à l’inverse, contre l’onirologie de son temps, de
pratiquer une nouvelle interprétation qu’il fit remonter explicitement, à partir de
1914, à Artémidore – auteur de la seule clé des songes antique conservée – tout en
refusant cependant que le rêve ait un caractère stricto sensu prémonitoire. En
réalité les récits historiques, aussi bien des onirologues du XIXe siècle que de
Freud, demandent à être interrogés. La question des relations entre les rêves
comme objets savants et les songes comme objets à interpréter demanderait à être
précisée et complexifiée.
Ces journées d’études pourront servir de base et de tremplin à une
recherche de plus grande amplitude sur les clés des songes dans la tradition
occidentale depuis Artémidore jusqu’au 19e siècle et à nos jours. Il s’agit d’un
genre d’écrit savant et populaire qui repose sur un corpus empilé, compilé et
composite, justifiant des analyses lexicographiques et lexicométriques fines.
L’investigation de ce corpus particulier, qui n’a jamais été fait sur une longue
durée, pourra mettre en évidence des permanences, des différences et des
novations traversant les époques, mais aussi les espaces géographiques et les
cultures. Il est important de souligner d’autre part qu’a perduré en Occident une
tradition médicale savante d’interprétation des songes.
A travers cette historicisation des clés des songes sur une longue durée, qui
impliquera des synergies entre spécialistes de différentes périodes, on pourrait
comprendre de façon plus et mieux différenciée les pratiques et les positions de
croyance qui ont touché et touchent aux rêves, d’Artémidore à Freud.

Programme:

LUNDI 1ER OCTOBRE 2012
10H00 – Ouverture et allocutions de bienvenue
10h30 –Vincent Barras (Université de Lausanne, IUHMSP)
« Le contexte médical du rêve dans la médecine grecque. »
11h15 – Pause
11h30 – Julien du Bouchet (Montpellier 3)
« Artémidore, homme de science. »
12h15 – Christian Jacob (EHESS, CNRS, AnHIMA/INHA)
« Rêves de survol et d’ascension. »
13h00 – Déjeuner
14h30 – Andrei Timotin (Académie Roumaine, EPHE)
« Techniques exégétiques dans les clés des songes byzantines. »
15h15 – Jean-Claude Schmitt (EHESS, GAHOM)
« Les clés des songes au Moyen Âge. »
16h – Pause
16h15 – Pierre-Antoine Fabre (EHESS, CARE)

« Voir n’est pas rêver. La vision comme accomplissement du songe dans quelques témoignages spirituels d’époque moderne. »

17h00 – Hervé Huot (EHESS)
« Les « songes prédiseurs », s’ils sont déterminés par le positionnement des corps
célestes, intéressent-ils encore l’autorité théologique ? (Europe de l’Ouest, XVIe
siècle). »

MARDI 2 OCTOBRE 2012

09h30 – Juliette Lancel (HASTEC, EHESS, CAK)
« D’Alep à Paris, itinéraire d’une clé des songes : le plaidoyer prudent d’un
médecin du XVIIe siècle. »
10h15 – Guillaume Garnier (Université de Poitiers)
« Faut-il dormir pour rêver ? »
11h00 – Pause
11h15 – Nicole Edelman (Paris Ouest Nanterre La Défense)
« Les clés des songes à l’épreuve de la voyance et de l’astrologie (XIXe-XXe
siècles). »
12h00 – Philippe Boutry (EHESS, Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne, CARE)
« Les clés des songes d’Halbert d’Angers . »
12h45 – Déjeuner
14h30 – Jacqueline Carroy (EHESS, CAK)
« L’Antiquité au crible de la science des rêves du XIXe siècle. »
15h15 – Andreas Mayer (Max Planck Institut Berlin)
« La Traumdeutung, une nouvelle clé des songes ? »

Pour plus d’informations, cliquer ici.

Current Opinion in Psychiatry

In the latest issue of Current Opinion in Psychiatry, one article is dedicated to the history of psychiatry:

Engstrom Eric J, « History of psychiatry and its institutions », Current opinion in psychiatry, 20 September 2012. The abstract reads:

PURPOSE OF REVIEW:

The purpose of this review is to highlight recent English-language literature on the history of psychiatric institutions. It considers work published since 2010, as well as a few important older articles that have not yet been reviewed in these pages.

RECENT FINDINGS:

Developments in the last half of the 20th century suggest that psychiatric historiography might finally be able to put the mental asylum behind it. Deinstitutionalization and the diffusion of professional jurisdictions seem to have consigned institutional histories to the methodological dustbin. But these transformations have also opened new perspectives on the institutional history of psychiatry and its methodologies. This review reflects on some of the enduring historiographic potential and importance of evidence drawn from institutional settings.

SUMMARY:

As carceral narratives have begun to lose their paradigmatic status within psychiatric historiography, a much more nuanced picture of asylum culture is becoming visible. The history of psychiatric institutions remains an integral and productive part of psychiatric historiography.

 

“How I Became a Historian of Psychiatry”: Cathy Coleborne

To start off the new academic year, Catharine Coleborne, Associate Professor at the University of Waikato (NZ) and author among others of ‘Madness’ in the family: Insanity and institutions in the Australasian colonial world 1860s-1914 (2010) and Reading ‘Madness’: Gender and difference in the colonial asylum in Victoria, Australia, 1848-1880s (2007) has kindly agreed to share with us how she became a historian of psychiatry:

Born in 1967 in Armidale in northern New South Wales, Australia, I grew up a long way from there in the Latrobe Valley area of Gippsland in the state of Victoria. This is still a working-class area of the state and I was always aware of the importance of socio-economic dimensions of the world at large. My left-leaning parents talked a good deal about politics, and my mother in particular instilled in me a strong sense of social justice. It was in my third year of studying History and English at the University of Melbourne that I began to see History as my chosen field. In that year, I undertook what might have seemed a fairly narrow focus across the two disciplines, and studied the history and literature of early-modern England. In my combined Honours year I wrote a History Honours thesis about widowhood from 1580 to 1680, and proceeded in my Masters thesis in History to examine health, illness and life stages for women in the context of feminist debates about their construction.  In doing this I gained a new awareness of the potential of social history by looking at people’s private lives, their family worlds, secrets, silences, repression, concepts of class and power, gender, and more. At the University of Melbourne, the History and Philosophy of Science department was yet to appoint historians of the calibre of Warwick Anderson to begin what has become an important research and teaching unit in medical humanities (now the Centre for Health and Society). I had discovered the interesting and influential work of Patricia Crawford and others, but I was still on the cusp of an intellectual journey that would lead me to define myself, eventually, as a cultural historian of medicine and psychiatry.

First, then, I was trained as a feminist historian: New Zealand Feminist historian Pat Grimshaw ran the History Honours seminar in Feminist History, where I read all the major Anglo-American feminist historians, and she was also one of the supervisors, together with Charles Zika, of my Masters thesis. Now, all of this provided me with a set of tools and ideas – but what did it mean to research British histories from Australia? I certainly did not visit any ‘real’ archives or get my hands covered by literal or metaphoric manuscript ‘dust’. My many primary sources for the Masters thesis – some forty-five diaries, medical advice books, sermons, treatises, and midwives’ books – were all found in major Microfilm collections or were published and available in the extensive Baillieu Library collection. Indeed, since I had not studied much nineteenth-century colonial Australian histories, unlike most of my peers, I missed the annual trip to the Public Records Office of Victoria which was then located out in the Western suburbs of Melbourne. In fact, I missed out on any hands-on archival experience – something of a rite of passage for historians, as Carolyn Steedman notes – until I made a shift to colonial histories. This notion of the ‘rite of passage’ through archival research might be interpreted as a ‘stubborn’ professional self-presentation by historians, but it also might represent an opportunity for historians to come face-to -face with theories of making history.

In those years, aside from a kind of personal awakening that – in my view – we ought to write histories of our own places, this shift came about because I worked as a research assistant for several Australian history projects in the early 1990s. One of these roles involved researching a history of nursing in colonial Victoria, a job which took me to small hospitals all round regional Victoria. I was often the first person for many years to request to see and read old hospital board minute books for the nineteenth century. I would be led into a cold, basement room and given the freedom to range over boxes of notes, scribbles, annual reports, photocopies and other materials. These were archives, but not always well cared for or catalogued. But my experience of making sense of these to craft history – to tell stories – was somehow captivating. I was hooked. I thought about a topic for doctoral study, enrolled at Latrobe University with my supervisor Diane Kirkby, now Professor and a prominent figure in Law and History circles, and finally visited the Public Records Office.

One of the seventeenth-century women I’d written about, Hannah Allen, had experienced mental breakdown. Widowed at 25, Hannah plunged into a ‘deep melancholy’. Her memoir, Satan his Methods and Malice Baffled, published in 1683, was an account of her depression through stories of temptation, terrors, suicide attempts, self-starvation and finally, recovery. Satan taunted her with apparitions, strange lights, and forced her to blaspheme: ‘I would write in several places on the walls with the point of my sizer, Woe, Woe, Woe and alas to all Eternity’. She ingested opium, smoked spiders in a pipe with tobacco, and tried to bleed herself to death. Hannah’s message is ultimately conservative, because she recovered her health with the help of both religion and marriage; this also explains the publication of her work. My reading of Michael Macdonald’s work about ‘mystical healing’ was important here, and as I explored colonial hospitals I was reminded of this theme: if there were sick bodies in colonial Victoria, there were bound to be sick minds. I duly investigated the archival possibilities for a study of lunacy in Victoria, and also found that little academic or scholarly work had been completed for that context. The archival record, in the form of extant institutional clinical patient cases, was plentiful, and nobody had made much of these sources, at least, not for this particular site. Studies of institutional confinement existed – most importantly, Stephen Garton’s landmark and influential text Medicine and Madness, about insanity in New South Wales between 1880 and 1940, and Jill Mathews’ important work Good and Mad Women which used twentieth-century records for South Australia – but Victoria’s history of mental illness and its institutions was less well known.

One of the things I recall most about that period of my academic life is that I was now facing a range of new intellectual challenges. One person remarked, ‘Congratulations on finding your archive!’ I will always remember this comment. It made me realize that the process of embarking on archival research in one’s own context might be somehow fraught or contested.  Was this archive of asylum records mine? Was it therefore the case that no one else might look into this archive? I was in new territory. I also now had to navigate the issues of archival record selection. Among the specific methodological or theoretical tools at my disposal, along with social history modes, were feminist methods which at that time emphasised female visibility and new practices of reading and interpretation; increasingly, too, and appropriately, like their interdisciplinary colleagues, historians had begun to assert new modes of interpreting gender as a relational category. In addition, the feminist historical debate was shifting and now moving towards more complex accounts of the way that gender, class and ethnicity all intersect. Embarking on doctoral work not only moved me out of one time period and into another, but it brought new and direct intellectual challenges. In other words, far from being somehow transported into a world of the past through ‘the archive’, I was forced into a difficult set of present theoretical engagements. In becoming an archival historian, I did not contract what the French philosopher Jacques Derrida termed ‘Archive fever proper’, but rather, I maintained a surly distance from the archive as I sought to make sense of how to use it.

My book Reading ‘Madness’: Gender and difference in the colonial asylum in Victoria, Australia, 1848-1880s (API Network, Perth WA: 2007) came out a long time after the end of my doctorate in 1998, and reflects my much earlier interests in constructions of female madness in the colonial setting.  The book also directly thinks about patient casenotes as texts which created ‘madness’ and which could be read as textual representations. The book also reflects my then perhaps naive conceptions of power through a Foucauldian perspective. I was mostly influenced then by Discipline and Punish, rather than Foucault’s other work, and saw the institution as carceral and productive of meanings about insanity and the insane, rather than as institutions which were actively negotiated and which were in dialogue with families of the mentally ill. While this work reflects my thinking at that time, it made me aware of the international field of the social and cultural histories of medicine. It led to a range of exciting opportunities: I curated an exhibition about the history of mental health in Victoria that was exhibited at the Medical Museum, part of the Brownless Medical Library at the University of Melbourne, in 1999. I later conducted new research into museum collections of psychiatric objects in Western Australia, Victoria and New Zealand and Dolly MacKinnon and I recently published the collection of essays Exhibiting Madness (Routledge, 2011) which examines these themes of insanity and the museum and the politics of exhibiting collections of psychiatric objects, among many other topics.

I first came across the phrase the ‘asylum archive’ in the work of my friend and research colleague Jim Mills in his powerful account of race and insanity in colonial India. This term was used with some irony, since Mills found his major archival sources for a study of ‘native-only’ asylums in south India rotting in a cupboard in a disused psychiatric institution: nobody even knew they were there, yet the records contained hundreds of cases of Indian people confined by British administrators for wandering, smoking cannabis, and other behaviours which led to their diagnosis of insanity. Writing about South Africa, Sally Swartz laments the lost lives of women psychiatric patients at various institutions in the Cape. These lives are lost, writes Swartz, despite the vast amount of record-keeping about them.

It is something of a paradox that we know such a large amount about institutionalised people when they were hidden from public view in their own lifetimes. Archival records of insanity contain histories of people who would otherwise have remained virtually invisible, though those lives were heavily circumscribed. Recently, my own work has drawn specific attention to this asylum archive. Following my doctoral work which had focused on more limited ways on the negotiations of the inane and their families with institutions, I was interested to find out how families interacted with mental hospitals in the nineteenth century, and how those interactions, too, were gendered. This research involved new approaches to four different state or national archives and culminated in the book ‘Madness’ in the family: Insanity and institutions in the Australasian colonial world 1860s-1914 (Palgrave, 2010). I see this as an important contribution to social and cultural histories of insanity, institutions and families, as well as to discussions about archival sources, finding emotions in the archive, and the patterns of institutional treatment of the insane in the colonial world.

As part of my new research into ethnicity, migration and insanity, part of a larger study with Professor Angela McCarthy at the University of Otago, I am currently immersed in a large dataset of archival cases from one psychiatric institution, looking for hidden and open references to ethnicity, gender and class, building on the rich scholarship of American historians of earlier decades, including Gerald Grob, who examined questions of inequality and the treatment of the insane. Together McCarthy and I produced the edited collection Migration, Ethnicity, and Mental Health: International Perspectives, 1840-2010 (Routledge, 2012). Those constant themes of power, social and cultural difference, and how both the institution and the archive reflect and produce such ‘identities’, continue to fascinate me. Mental health and illness, and the institutions used to confine and treat the mentally ill, provide a way for historians to encounter the disenfranchised peoples of the past. Even more powerfully, by engaging as historians with present debates about deinstitutionalisation and community care, and by becoming involved in writing and producing histories of twentieth-century mental health care, historians can actively interrogate the power structures of the past and their enduring legacies in the present. Increasingly, through community projects and engagements, I am moving towards a deeper awareness of the role and function of psychiatric history in our current moment.

Many thanks to Cathy for sharing with us her intellectual trajectory!

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