Perry Zurn

In an interview, the late Argentinian feminist philosopher María Lugones appeals to fungi as proof of the permeability of beings—the way they become in and through one another, the way they make each other. That interview was conducted at her home in Vestal, just outside of Binghamton, New York. One day in September 2023, I decided to visit Lugones’s grounds and meet her housekeeper. Reflecting on that visit, I take the opportunity, in this essay, to pursue an extended meditation not only on fungi and forests, dwelling and companionship, but also, and more fundamentally, on the intimacies of lifedeath.

In this conversation, Perry Zurn interviews Gabriela Veronelli, campañera of the late Argentinian feminist philosopher María Lugones. While the conversation centers on Lugones’s interest in fungi and the inspiration she took from mycelial networks, it expands well beyond that. Veronelli explores how the mycelial approach subtends Lugones’s critique of the coloniality of knowledge and its logic of purity but also supports her theorizations of relationality, Aymara philosophy, multilingualism, and human and non-human companionship. Zurn and Veronelli close by discussing Lugones’s conception of erotics as not rooted in definitive categories of gender and sexuality but rather in permeability and porosity.

Today, cisgender (or cis for short) typically refers to someone whose gender “aligns with” or “matches” their sex assigned at birth. In this essay, I track and analyze how that dominant sense of cis arose. I identify three primary forces that helped mainstream the term and its current definition: Julia Serano’s Whipping Girl, Sam Killerman’s “Cisgender Privilege” checklist, and South Park’s “Cissy” episode. Analyzing these key moments, I argue that cis gets mainstreamed through its depoliticization and rarefaction. That is, it comes to modify a sense of self between the ears rather than serve as a militant term deployed in coalitional politics. I further argue that cis gets mainstreamed through a practice of citational injustice, according to which trans community conversations go largely unengaged and uncited. In closing, I argue that if we are to continue to use cis in trans, queer, feminist, and allied circles, it must be rerooted in the political history of trans community conversations and at the nexus of multiple co-constitutive assemblages of power-knowledge. Cis is best used as a term to diagnose a complex system of institutional legibility and legitimacy, not a private assessment of sex/gender.

It is little appreciated that curiosity is disorienting. Overwhelmingly, discourse on curiosity offers it as an orientation. Ask more questions! Gain more knowledge! The curious process, however, is also a disintegrative one. It necessarily involves an undoing of how things are typically or presently thought. This essay proposes two disorientations (or failed orientations) that are essential to curiosity—disorientations that are obscured by the overly simplistic ways curiosity gets theorized today. First, it is a truism that curiosity is a desire to know or to acquire and contribute to knowledge. It is argued here that curiosity is also an act of disknowledge (Eggert, 2015) or of refusing existing structures of “knowledge.” Second, curiosity is typically understood as an epistemological virtue. It is argued here that curiosity is also a disepistemological practice (Ben-Moshe, 2018), one trained on not-knowing and not-knowing-how. By attuning to curiosity as an act of disknowledge and a disepistemological practice, this essay is able to palpate the essential disorientations of this disorienting thing we call curiosity.

Recently, neurodiversity scholars published a letter to the editor of _Autism_ arguing that Judy Singer should not be cited as coiner of _neurodiversity_; rather, the term should be attributed to earlier neurodiverse forums online. I make a similar argument for _neuroqueer_. Neuroqueer is typically attributed to one of the letter's authors: Nick Walker (2015). Archival information, however, demonstrates that the term was developed in neuroqueer community conversations on the _NeuroQueer_ blog (2013-2016) and, even earlier, on the alt.support. autism Usenet forum (2003). Walker's claim to coinage, then, obscures the collective origins of the concept and erases neuroqueer people from their own story. In retracing these historiographical steps, I pursue two theoretical questions. First, what can this broader history illuminate about the concept, theory, and practice of neuroqueer? Second, what might an explicitly neuroqueer citation politics look like? If not a single-origin story, then what?

In this paper, I look for the crip potential at the heart of cis. What would a theory of cisgender look like if that were presumed from the start? I begin by observing that many early endorsers theorizing cis were trans crip, mad, disabled people. In the first section, I grapple with the challenges that genealogy poses for cis as a construct. In the second section, I review disability studies and trans studies for a disability critique of cisness. I then turn, in the third section, to expand Finn Enke’s critique of cis as a sane and able ontological category. Throughout, but especially in closing, I pivot (swerve, or spiral out) into the disabled, mad, crip experience of cisness as lived everyday rather than as theorized to date. I tarry with the disruptions and disorders thriving among those who nevertheless pass in close proximity to an always distant cis ideal.

In this essay, I sketch a preliminary account of philosophical curiosity. Drawing on philosophy of curiosity, philosophy of education, and philosophical pedagogy, I argue first that philosophical curiosity is a set of investigative practices and affects that engage philosophical content and philosophical skills. Turning to critical pedagogy and meta-philosophy, especially via Paulo Freire and Kristie Dotson, I then supplement the preliminary account by arguing that philosophical curiosity is also rooted in existential exploration and communal inquiry. I argue for the necessity of this supplement by showing that, in failing to account for what and who philosophical curiosity is for, we risk excluding diverse practitioners and phenomena from the philosophical enterprise. I then evaluate two pedagogical exercises in philosophical curiosity—the Freedom Schools’ citizenship curriculum and Melissa Shew’s Curiosity Project—in light of this account. I close by considering some objections and implications.

Trans people have always lived in the cracks of institutions—and the university is no exception. In How We Make Each Other, Perry Zurn tells the stories of how trans people make and live their lives at the edges of the university in ways that sometimes lead to policy change but always leave participants and institutions different than they were before. Using the Five Colleges in Massachusetts as a case study, Zurn notes that Amherst College, Hampshire College, Mount Holyoke College, Smith College, and the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, have been at the forefront of developing trans-inclusive policies in higher education, often in response to student organizing. Zurn focuses on the stories of trans students, staff, faculty, and community members within and alongside these institutions, exploring how they have built themselves and each other. Drawing on official archives as well as over 100 interviews, Zurn shows how trans people in the Five Colleges have made history, forged resistance habits, and cultivated hope.

Given its subject matter, biological psychiatry is uniquely poised to lead STEM DEI initiatives related to disability. Drawing on literatures in science, philosophy, psychiatry, and disability studies, we outline how that leadership might be undertaken. We first review existing opportunities for the advancement of DEI in biological psychiatry around axes of gender and race. We then explore the expansion of biological psychiatry’s DEI efforts to disability, especially along the lines of representation and access, community accountability, first person testimony, and revised theoretical frameworks for pathology. We close with concrete recommendations for scholarship and practice going forward. By tackling head-on the challenge of disability inclusion, biological psychiatry has the opportunity to be a force of transformation in the biological sciences and beyond.

It is hardly difficult to imagine writing about critical phenomenology and walking. One might pause over the method of critical phenomenology as a meta-odos, a thinking of the path. Or consider the steps critical phenomenology takes and the unique pitch of its gait as it traverses the borderlands between phenomenology and critical theory. One might query how these two have the capacity to walk so well side by side, so much so that they can become as one, barely distinguishable against an open sky. Such an inquiry would no doubt track how it is that phenomenology walks toward things, through things, into things, suspending the eye of the natural attitude and proceeding ever so carefully and yet bluntly in search of what springs toward it. But such an inquiry would also track how that very process is a scripted processual, notwithstanding all the suspensions upon which it steps. Who and what writes and rewrites the script of what appears, when, and how? What inscriptions define appearances in advance and diaeretically cut them clean from one another? And what are the unscripted forces still at work? Ferreting out the work of scripts and inscriptions, such an inquiry would pause over the hidden structures that constrict what might feel like a free flight of the mind, a bit of unfettered rambling in the fields of consciousness. Thinking critical phenomenology as walking, then, means tracking the two moving in tandem. Phenomenology pulls toward the horizon of experience, while critical theory veers toward structural analyses. Together, they tread a uniquely illuminating path.

Trans philosophy—like everything else—has a history. The 1990s was a pivotal decade for the academic development of trans philosophy in the United States and Canada. During this period, the broader interdisciplinary field of transgender studies was beginning to emerge, and professional philosophy’s own contributions to transgender studies were starting to take shape as well. In what follows, we hear from Talia Mae Bettcher, Loren Cannon, Miqqi Alicia Gilbert, and Jacob Hale, four trans philosophers whose writings and activism helped provide the contours of what is now becoming a robust and thriving area of study within academic philosophy.

There is no denying that the bathroom is a political space. But that is what makes it a space of possibility. As a social-material fixture we use every day, the bathroom has the potential to illuminate, and ultimately to challenge, some of our deepest values and deepest needs. Appreciating the weave of experiences and institutions that have, across time, made the modern bathroom what it is opens up important questions about what it might be. Leaning into the legacy of refusal, we can demand a radical break with logics that have so long masked insidious social hierarchies with calls to order and purity.

In this essay, I sketch the contours of a critical phenomenology of walking. I begin by briefly characterizing the critical phenomenological project and marking some of its invitations to think method and movement alongside one another. Then, I explore two modes of doing a critical phenomenology of walking: attending to how one walks and when and where one walks. I revisit and reread, in particular, the stories of Charlie Howard and Latisha King, whose walks not only signaled a unique comportment in the world, but a comportment so offensive as to be extinguished by a fatal admixture of homophobia, transphobia, and racism. Finally, I close by considering the conditions under which a critical phenomenology of walking can be ameliorative—that is, how it can participate in liberatory projects of thinking and making. Drawing on Michel de Certeau and María Lugones, I argue not only that a critical phenomenology of walking can diagnose how structures of oppression constrain walking chances in the world, but also can witness how walking critiques those very structures. Walking is a movement of resistance and reimagination against the constraints of embodiment and subjectivity so singularly inherited and enforced. Traversing the space of this inquiry, I aim to complexify my understanding of walking as a practice, but also to deepen my appreciation of critical phenomenology as a method.

Trans Philosophy: Meaning and Mattering will be the first authoritative collection to establish trans philosophy as a unique field of inquiry. It defines trans philosophy as philosophical work that is accountable to and illuminative of transgender experiences, histories, cultural production, and politics. The book will showcase work from a range of fresh and established voices in this nascent field. It will address a variety of topics (e.g. embodiment, identity, language, law, politics, transphobia), utilize diverse philosophical methods (e.g. analytic, continental, and pluralist; theoretical, experimental, and applied), and attend to significant intersections between trans identity and class, disability, race, and sexuality. Across language and politics, feminism and phenomenology, decolonial theory and disability studies, trans philosophy concerns itself with trans worldmaking in all its excruciating beauty and mundanity.

Throughout history, many scholars have offered up definitions of curiosity. These definitions range far and wide. Some attempt to amass all the elements of curiosity, systematize them, and propose a unified theory. Some characterize curiosity as a conceptual unit with two primary dimensions (e.g. epistemic and perceptual), as two distinct kinds of things (e.g. bona et mala curiositas), or as one side of a binary (e.g. curiosity vs. care). What is curiosity? Which characterization is most apt to curiosity itself and which best illuminates its ethical and political stakes? In this essay, I argue that curiosity is best characterized modally. That is, it is best described through its modes rather than defined by its essence. To support this argument, I canvas the history of philosophy and identify three models of curiosity, which I name by their correlative literary figures: the busybody, the hunter, and the dancer. The curious person is repeatedly described as drawn to gossip, hunting down secrets and discoveries, and taking leaps of creative imagination. I develop an account of the unique kinesthetic signatures of each mode. I then close with ethical considerations, interrogating issues of responsibility relevant to each. In doing so, this chapter reimagines both curiosity itself and its role in our political ecology today.

There is a kind of living that feels like dying. There is a kind of life marked—relentlessly—by death. The term social death refers to this experience, this rhythm, this walled passage. By definition, social death may belong to whoever—or indeed whatever—lives and dies in a network of relation. Even when conceived of only anthropocentrically, then, the term must apply beyond that, because the human being lives and dies in nonhuman relation. Moreover, social death always occurs out of sync with physical death. As such, its temporality is unique. Social death is already and not yet, long begun and never finished, and one is never quite sure when it will strike; it is out of time. Given the way in which it eddies across existences and temporalities, social death is a chimerical, though no less powerful term.

In this essay, we offer a preliminary account of why and how to consciously cultivate curiosity in contemporary learning environments. First, we begin by discussing some of the educational theory upon which curiosity-centric classrooms might be built: experiential learning pedagogy, feminist pedagogy, critical pedagogy, and abolitionist pedagogy. Second, recognizing that our social, cultural, political, and economic processes all shape who can be curious, about what, and when, we then formulate what we call a critically curious pedagogy. Critically curious pedagogy aims to stay accountable to the complex sociopolitical processes in and against which curiosity is either cultivated or suppressed. Such pedagogy relies on the affective practices of reflexivity, mindfulness, empathy, uncertainty, and transformative questioning. Third, we identify several key elements of curiosity-based assignments by which teacher–learners from all disciplinary backgrounds—whether they be mathematicians, engineers, anthropologists, psychologists, or philosophers—can facilitate the growth of critical curiosity in their students. These elements include student leadership, a research mindset, collaborative environments, multimodal outputs, real-life applications, and community engagement. Finally, we reflect on future directions in the theory and praxis of curiosity-centric learning environments. It is our hope that this chapter provides a framework for members of teacher–learner communities of all sorts to become aware of and cultivate their own curiosity with one another.

In what follows, we intervene in the long history of the study of curiosity to propose curiosity studies proper. Such a field, we argue, traverses the many disciplinary and experiential contexts in which curiosity appears, in order to generate theories, analytics, and practices of curiosity that are as complex and ubiquitous as the phenomenon of curiosity itself. Assuming an ecology of knowledge framework, which expressly resists academic silos and intellectual monocultures, we envision curiosity studies as an unbounded inquiry built on three simple principles: (1) Curiosity is multiple; its markers shift across history, geography, species, social identities, institutions, contexts, and circumstances; therefore it requires immensely flexible analytic attention; (2) Curiosity is praxiological; far from something that is simply felt, curiosity is something that is done, expressed in behaviors, habits, architectures, and movements across physical, conceptual, and social space; and (3) Curiosity is political; its manifestations within sociocultural worlds are marked by inherited hierarchies of value among scientific methodologies, people groups, and ideologies. And yet, precisely because it is multiple, praxiological, and political, curiosity bears a keen subversive potential. It has the capacity to upend what we know, how we learn, how we relate, and what we can change. Curiosity has the capacity to become radical, to get at the root of things. We therefore propose curiosity studies not only as a field of scholarship but as a way of reimagining the world, both within the classroom and far beyond it.

Prisons are a feminist issue. This chapter offers an account of central issues and themes in feminist philosophical work on prisons, examples of important contributions, and future directions for feminist work in the field. It does so, however, in a way that consciously deploys a feminist methodology that resists the replication of hierarchical norms and structural violence in the very doing of theory and history. In this spirit, it emphasizes the record of struggle across the prison’s history, the resistance efforts that live behind individual academic theories, the conceptual frameworks generated by groups bearing the brunt of carcerality, and it investigates alternative strategies of harm reduction developed across those communities. The chapter closes with an explicit exploration of prison abolitionism, which works not only to radically rethink punishment but also to shift the locus of voice and leadership. In so doing, the chapter aims to review, as much as to create anew, a feminist theoretical analysis of prisons.