Jennifer Case – författare

This open access book addresses the current disillusionment with mass higher education and argues that it is based on a profound misunderstanding of its educational potential. The authors analyse a seven-year longitudinal research project that tracked participants who studied chemistry or chemical engineering from their first year of university until up to three years after they graduated. Drawing on over 700 interviews with students/graduates from two English, two South African and two American universities, the book explores the educational intentions of their degree programmes, what participants wanted to get out of going to university and studying for a degree, how their views of knowledge and the world changed, and what they felt they had gained from going to university. The book argues that the educational potential of higher education lies, not in graduate salaries or employability, but in the ways in which engaging with structured bodies of knowledge changes students’ understanding of the world and what they can do in it. The authors consider the implications of this argument for how the educational role of higher education is understood by students, graduates, universities, and policymakers and how this understanding might be drawn upon to counter the damaging disillusionment with mass higher education that appears to be growing in many countries.The ebook editions of this book are available open access under a CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 licence on bloomsburycollections.com. Open access was funded by UKRI.

When Jennifer Case became pregnant unexpectedly with her second child, she was overwhelmed at the prospect of caring for another child in a society with high expectations and low support for mothers. She sought to reclaim control over, if not her changing body, then at least her rapidly declining mental health. Immersing herself in research, Case learned that the United States has one of the highest maternal death rates among developed countries. One in every five women develops a mental health issue as a result of pregnancy. It became clear to her that in order to address the sexism and isolation mothers face—including the racism that further marginalizes women of color—we must recognize these as social problems that affect us allWe Are Animals draws attention to these issues by examining key moments in Case’s life where her experience as both a woman in twenty-first-century America and a child-bearing mammal, and the conflicts between these two identities, were brought into sharp relief. From the surprising salve of parasocial interactions on baby forums to the not so surprisingly intertwined history of industrial dairy farming and wearable breast pumps, Case explores an array of realities that give historical and cultural context to the experience of motherhood.The essays collected here offer a balm for women who have struggled in silence over childbirth trauma, conflicted responses to motherhood, or a deeply felt intuition that what their bodies needed as mothers did not match what society provided. They also offer a much needed, nuanced perspective for policymakers, activists, and medical professionals who continue to shape women’s experience of motherhood.

When Jennifer Case became pregnant unexpectedly with her second child, she was overwhelmed at the prospect of caring for another child in a society with high expectations and low support for mothers. She sought to reclaim control over, if not her changing body, then at least her rapidly declining mental health. Immersing herself in research, Case learned that the United States has one of the highest maternal death rates among developed countries. One in every five women develops a mental health issue as a result of pregnancy. It became clear to her that in order to address the sexism and isolation mothers face—including the racism that further marginalizes women of color—we must recognize these as social problems that affect us all.

We Are Animals draws attention to these issues by examining key moments in Case’s life where her experience as both a woman in twenty-first-century America and a child-bearing mammal, and the conflicts between these two identities, were brought into sharp relief. From the surprising salve of parasocial interactions on baby forums to the not so surprisingly intertwined history of industrial dairy farming and wearable breast pumps, Case explores an array of realities that give historical and cultural context to the experience of motherhood.The essays collected here offer a balm for women who have struggled in silence over childbirth trauma, conflicted responses to motherhood, or a deeply felt intuition that what their bodies needed as mothers did not match what society provided. They also offer a much needed, nuanced perspective for policymakers, activists, and medical professionals who continue to shape women’s experience of motherhood.

“Care work is climate work.” Jennifer Case first encountered this message during the pandemic, while monitoring her daughter’s attempts at virtual learning and trying to keep her toddler from running naked into faculty Zoom meetings. The phrase appeared online beside photos of backyard gardens and essential workers in masks, offering an unexpected validation: caring for others—whether children, the ill, or the earth—is vital work. Intrigued, Case began exploring the connections between personal, domestic, and ecological care. What started as research through the lenses of feminism and economics grew into a larger investigation that touched on environmental thought, Indigenous teachings, disability studies, and the psychology of empathy. Along the way, Case developed a broader spiritual and ecological awareness that changed how she viewed the act of caring itself.Part memoir and part cultural reflection, The Carework Project combines intimate storytelling with research, interviews, and visual art to explore what care means in a time of climate crisis. Case shows how caregiving, often invisible, gendered, or undervalued, is central to our survival. She examines how trauma and burnout affect our ability to connect, and how healing can start with the smallest gestures of attention. The book invites readers to envision a world where care is not a burden but a source of mutual renewal and belonging.Visually striking collage postcards enhance the text. The result is a hybrid work that feels both timely and timeless, honoring the messy, creative, and transformative act of caring for one another and the living world.

Care work is climate work. Jennifer Case first encountered this message during the pandemic, while monitoring her daughters attempts at virtual learning and trying to keep her toddler from running naked into faculty Zoom meetings. The phrase appeared online beside photos of backyard gardens and essential workers in masks, offering an unexpected validation: caring for otherswhether children, the ill, or the earthis vital work. Intrigued, Case began exploring the connections between personal, domestic, and ecological care. What started as research through the lenses of feminism and economics grew into a larger investigation that touched on environmental thought, Indigenous teachings, disability studies, and the psychology of empathy. Along the way, Case developed a broader spiritual and ecological awareness that changed how she viewed the act of caring itself.Part memoir and part cultural reflection, The Carework Project combines intimate storytelling with research, interviews, and visual art to explore what care means in a time of climate crisis. Case shows how caregiving, often invisible, gendered, or undervalued, is central to our survival. She examines how trauma and burnout affect our ability to connect, and how healing can start with the smallest gestures of attention. The book invites readers to envision a world where care is not a burden but a source of mutual renewal and belonging.Visually striking collage postcards enhance the text. The result is a hybrid work that feels both timely and timeless, honoring the messy, creative, and transformative act of caring for one another and the living world.

Around the world, more young people than ever before are attending university. Student numbers in South Africa have doubled since democracy and for many families, higher education is a route to a better future for their children. But alongside the overwhelming demand for higher education, questions about its purposes have intensified. Deliberations about the curriculum, culture and costing of public higher education abound from student activists, academics, parents, civil society and policy-makers. We know, from macro research, that South African graduates generally have good employment prospects. But little is known at a detailed level about how young people actually make use of their university experiences to craft their life courses. And even less is known about what happens to those who drop out. This accessible book brings together the rich life stories of 73 young people, six years after they began their university studies. It traces how going to university influences not only their employment options, but also nurtures the agency needed to chart their own way and to engage critically with the world around them. The book offers deep insights into the ways in which public higher education is both a private and public good, and it provides significant conclusions pertinent to anyone who works in � and cares about � universities.