(Note: This statement started its life as part of the State of the Profession panel at the joint American Society for Theatre Research / Congress on Research in Dance conference in Seattle [November 2010]. I was asked to respond to the question of “how power has worked on/through/with bodies in the fields of dance and theatre studies, and in the academy at large.” I decided to speak about the serious crisis facing higher education in light of the economic recession, and its particular challenges to the academy and our field, using my present context in the United Kingdom, where I have lived since 2006, as a case study.)

Note from the Re: Sources Editor: This is my first contribution as editor of Re:Sources, and I'm proud to join the team of editors and authors who work diligently to put together each issue of this fine journal. I vow to try and maintain the standard of quality set by my immediate predecessor, Nena Couch—a daunting task, to be sure. I hope that you will find something of use within the pages of this column and that you will consider yourself an active participant in the shaping of its future. In the November 2006 issue (47.2) of Theatre Survey, which marked the fiftieth anniversary of the American Society for Theatre Research, editor Jody Enders invited readers to “ponder anew” what constitutes a resource and to submit “untraditional proposals” for the Re:Sources column. As she explained:

I have fallen victim to a bait-and-switch scheme, one that I think is familiar to many academics. When first contemplating a life of the mind, I was essentially in search of an industry to fund my eclectic reading habits. The Academy welcomed me with the confident smile of a Ricky Roma. I was particularly enticed by the opportunity to talk (at length) about the books I had found while wandering in subbasements and forgotten annexes of research libraries, perusing used bookstores, or perhaps stopping at kiosks along the Seine during my lengthy summer vacations. That's not quite how it turned out. Instead, the only time I read a new book that isn't about talking steam engines or delinquent bunnies (and even then I often fall asleep before the final page) is because I have assigned it in a course. This is not what I expected, but it is satisfying nonetheless. Last fall I finished a number of good books just before teaching my classes.