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The archives gathered in this collection engage in the current COVID-19 moment. They do so in order to attempt to understand it, to think and feel with others and to create a collectivity that, beyond the slogan “we are in this together”, seriously contemplates the implications of what it means to be given an opportunity to alter the course of history, to begin to learn to live and educate otherwise.

This paper is collectively written by twelve academics in March 2020, a few weeks into the first closing down of common spaces in 2020, Victoria, Australia. Writing through and against “social isolation”, the twelve quarantine archives in this paper are all at once questions, methods, data, analysis, implications and limitations of these pandemic times and their afterlives.

These quarantine archives reveal a profound sense of dislocation, relatability and concern. Several of the findings in this piece succeed at failing to explain in generalising terms these un-new upending times and, in the process, raise more questions and propose un-named methodologies.

If there is anything this paper could claim as original, it would be its present ability to respond to the current times as a historical moment of intensity. At times when “isolation”, “self” and “contained” are the common terms of reference, the “collective”, “connected” and “socially engaged” nature of this paper defies those very terms. Finally, the socially transformative desire archived in each of the pieces is a form of future history-making that resists the straight order with which history is often written and made.

This paper explores the economic and social effects of human capital investment in the 20th century. As well as drawing on census data and statistical yearbooks in Australia and Aoteoroa/New Zealand, the paper develops its argument by an intersection of scholarly work in sociology, economics and the history of education to consider the effects of increased human capital investment on economic growth but also on the experiences of childhood, work discipline and the present climate crisis.

This paper considers the implications of what economic historian Claudia Goldin has described as the “human capital century” for the history of school and university education. By reconsidering education in the settler colonies, especially Australia and Aoteoroa/New Zealand, as “stimulus”, this helps explain key aspects of contemporary human capital investment, which the paper argues should be understood as constituted by children's and young people's free labour at school, university and across the economy.

This research argues that children's and young people's free labour, performed in educational institutions, constitutes a large portion of Australia and Aoteoroa/New Zealand's national investment in human capital. At key points, this investment has acted as an economic stimulus, promoting surges of profitability. The effects were not confined to young people. Systematised, educational expansion also became the foundation of environmental degradation, labour market exploitation and a relentless increase in service-sector productivity that is worn on professional bodies. Productivity increases have been associated with reduced professional autonomy as a managerial class coerced professionals into working harder, though often under the guise of working “smarter” – a fiction that encouraged or coerced even greater personal investment in collective human capital. This investment of personal time, effort and selfhood by children and the professionals they grew into can thus be seen, in Marxian terms, as a crucial vector of capitalist exploitation in the 20th century.

The paper concludes by suggesting that a reduction of managerial influence in educational settings would improve learner and professional autonomy with improved labour and environmental conditions.

The paper makes a unique contribution to the history of education by exploring education as stimulus as a key component of education’s role in 20th and 21st century capitalism. It interrogates exploitative aspects of human capital investment, especially in the midst of environmental catastrophe and the recent COVID crisis.

This paper introduces key themes and debates in education and educational history that engage education's complicity in injustice and violence, as well as those that continue to position education as a vehicle for positive change and possibility. The paper introduces the papers that comprise the special issue “Challenges of Contested Spaces: Constructing Difference and its Legacies in Educational History”.

The paper canvasses pertinent historiographical, theoretical and methodological debates that shed light on education's dual capacity to empower and oppress.

Papers in this collection reveal the many ways that agendas justified in the name of education, training and reform have often invoked that name as justification for actions that harmed, discriminated or oppressed, and yet also, how despite this, education can still be imagined as a space of possibility and transformation.

The paper offers a summative introduction to the themes and papers of the special issue.

American Horror Story, with its strong narrative arcs, interesting characters and high production values, is one of the most important horror TV series in the post-millennial years. This chapter will focus on the four roles played by Oscar-winning actress, Jessica Lange in the first four series.

As Lorna Jowett and Stacey Abbott have pointed out, the US TV serial Supernatural owes much of its success to the way it combines horror with family drama, strengthening the affective involvement of viewers in the lives of its protagonists, the monster-hunting Winchester brothers. The notion of home – presented variously as a domestic, feminine space from which the Winchesters and their compatriots are excluded; a mobile and contingent space of masculine bonding; and a hybrid space which allows for self-expression outside prescribed gender norms, but which also holds the potential for danger – is central.

Heather L. Duda has pointed to the ways monster hunters are excluded from the normative institutions of their societies, and this is certainly true of the Winchesters, who live in their family car and are unable to maintain ‘normal’ homes. Later seasons give them a home in the form of an underground bunker, not designed as a domestic space, but nonetheless a place where their hypermasculine behaviours can be relaxed. This chapter examines the tensions that emerge in this apparent move from a traditional narrative of the home as feminine space under threat to something more ambivalent, where masculine identity itself may be in danger.

The portrayal of female superheroes is not a new phenomenon. To this day Lynda Carter's portrayal of Wonder Woman (1975–1979) is venerated (Hanley, 2014) as one of the first portrayals of a ‘super’ female character swathed in popularity and renowned in comic book lore. More recently, several superhero narratives, with women at the helm, have been adapted for the series format including Supergirl, Batwoman and Jessica Jones.

However, until the introduction of Wonder Woman (Jenkins, 2017), film narratives with a female superhero at the centre have been non-existent. In 2019, Captain Marvel was released as part of the Marvel cinematic universe (MCU). Due to its connection to the MCU and the successful Avengers film franchise, the character Captain Marvel, played by Brie Larson, has a built-in familiarity with audiences.

From its first introduction, it is evident that there is a definitive feminist slant to the character and the narrative of Captain Marvel. Therefore, this chapter analyses the comment threads of three fan-made YouTube videos on Captain Marvel. These videos specifically address the feminist overtone as depicted. Specifically, the chapter considers fan reactions to the representation of feminism. The data are analysed through discourse analysis under the guise of Jacques Lacan's mirror theory and Henry Jenkins's participatory culture. Jenkins further notes the connection between, amongst other aspects, the interpretation and the meaningful participation (2015, p. 2) in the specific fandom. The concept of ‘suspension of disbelief’ will also be used as part of the analysis, as well as Henry Jenkins' participatory culture.

Unlike Joss Whedon's cult series Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997–2003), Angel (1999–2004) and Firefly (2002–2003), Dollhouse (2009–2010) is largely considered to be both a critical and commercial failure. Dollhouse is often dismissed as Whedon's worst television series, with critics citing their discomfort and disgust in watching hero Echo's (Eliza Dushku) repeated exploitation. Unlike other popular acclaimed TV series featuring a female action hero like Xena: Warrior Princess (1995–2001), Alias (2002–2006) and Nikita (2010–2013), the hero of Dollhouse is not empowered from the series' outset, but rather she slowly comes to her power and agency due to various traumatic and violent experiences. This chapter argues that Dollhouse stages a reworking of the cinematic female action hero figure by delaying empowerment and forcing the audience to linger in the hero's lack of agency. Dollhouse enables an unpacking of the female action hero popularised in films like Terminator 2: Judgement Day (1991), Long Kiss Goodnight (1996), The Fifth Element (1997) and the Alien franchise (1979, 1986, 1992, 1997). By exposing the mechanics of hero-creation, Dollhouse forces viewers to consider how heroes are made and who is exploited in the process. As such, this chapter considers Dollhouse as an intervention into the female action hero film and television cycle through an analysis of how the series adheres to and subverts the tropes of the cycle.