1. In this story, the researcher deals with expectations and preconceptions about what will be happening during her data-gathering. How can preconceptions stop us from really listening to stories? 2. Storytelling is not only about the stories being told. How can ‘doing things together’ be a form of conversation or storytelling? 3. In what way would you say the storyteller has changed her expectations towards storytelling, after her meeting with the old lady?

1. What insights about different ways of becoming a social worker has Liam’s life story brought to the fore? 2. What stories have you met in your own social work practice that have affected your way of understanding what ought to be the core of social work? 3. How do you from your own experiences understand the expression ‘social work poetry’? How could it be an inspiration in your own work?

The Wu family’s experiences illustrate in clear and human terms how institutions change over time. Far from lapsing into an ornamental or parasitic existence after the horrific purges of the Hongwu and Yongle reigns, merit nobles remained integral to the Ming dynasty. Reviewing the careers of the Wu men across the generations, we see their role change from field commanders, to a mix of field command and senior administration, and finally to exclusively capital administration. Rather than a caricatured image of corrupt irrelevance, merit nobles, properly considered, serve as a salutary reminder that military institutions, like other institutions, adapted to new circumstances. Examination of the Wu family yields a sharper understanding of who actually administered the dynasty’s core military institutions, what functions they served, and how they interacted with civil officials, palace eunuchs, officers, and the throne. Civil officials came and went, eunuchs held posts for longer, and military officers led campaigns, but merit nobles provided much of the continuity in personnel so essential for the operation of the Capital Training Divisions and Chief Military Commissions, pillars of the dynastic military.

Chapter 1 traces the experiences of Batu-Temür, his wife, their sons, and some 5,000 followers, who in 1405 migrated from the Mongolian steppe to the northwestern corner of the still-new Ming dynasty. In recognition of the military contributions of Batu-Temür and his sons, and their steadfast loyalty on refusing to join a local Mongolian insurrection, the Ming emperor granted the family a series of high-level military posts, gifts, honorary titles, a Chinese surname (Wu), and eventually investiture of Batu-Temür as Earl of Gongshun, a title that his descendants would hold until the mid seventeenth century. The Wu family’s experiences show both the Ming dynasty and recently arrived immigrants actively attempting to advance their interests in a time of rapid geopolitical change.

Chapter 4 charts the provision and/or absence of instruction in Catholicism in the cultural worlds of the Pacific, which the bishops of Popayán framed as “spiritual pasture.” It begins with an analysis of the patterns of baptism and godparentage in the small city of Cartago, far from the gold mines where enslaved labourers shored up the white elite. The chapter examines two controversies that divided the mine and slave-owning elite and the upper echelons of the Church for decades; first, a debate over the stipend system in which slaveholders had to pay itinerant clergy to travel to the mines to administer the sacraments, and second, over mineros allowing enslaved people to work on holy days, despite myriad laws and papal bulls outlawing it. Ultimately, the remoteness of the mines from towns, and the disinterest of whites in settling there, meant that enslavers continued the long-held custom of enslaved people labouring on holy days and saving up gold dust to pacify them. Condemned by the bishops as “spiritual abandonment,” the custom helped to create conditions for the growth of the large free black population and perhaps the practice of their own religions that largely remain outside of view.

This chapter discusses the variety of modernist theatrical practices grouped under the rubric ‘Theatre of the Absurd’ by Martin Esslin in the 1960s and demonstrates that absurdist theatre was a much more politically attuned and transnational phenomenon than commonly acknowledged. Esslin’s original aim was to understand theatrical practices in France that were related to, but stood outside of, the boundaries and timelines of the symbolist and surrealist movements, in particular the work of Samuel Beckett, Eugène Ionesco, Arthur Adamov, and Jean Genet. The chapter sets French absurdist drama of the 1950s and 1960s in a wider historical context and calls for the better recognition of a global absurdist canon, tracing the blossoming of a new absurdist drama through playwrights including Virgilio Piñera (Cuba), Halide Edib (Turkey), Issam Mahfouz (Lebanon), Osvaldo Dragún (Argentina), Kobo Abe (Japan), Yusuf Idris and Tawfiq al-Hakim (Egypt), and through the contemporary legacies of Beckett’s absurdist model.