has most thoroughly reshaped American society, not just in
the Southwest but throughout the country (page 252).
By relaxing restrictions on immigration in 1965, Congress
fundamentally transformed the country’s racial and ethnic
profile. In that same year, Congress helped to realize African
American citizenship rights through the landmark Voting
Rights Act. The act dramatically expanded black political
participation, but it also inadvertently contributed to the
thorny problem of redistricting. Gerrymandering has a long
history in the United States, but in the 1990s it entered a new
phase with the use of computerized technology. Even in the
digital era, however, maps remained the lynchpin in those
battles over representation (page 254).
The struggle for civil rights in the 1960s inspired several
other movements for justice and recognition, notably among
gays and lesbians. In the 1970s and 1980s, the gay community
began to challenge the treatment of homosexuality as either
a sin or a perversion. The emerging recognition of gay rights
and sexual identity was partly influenced by the public health
crisis around acquired immune deficiency syndrome (AIDS).
The maps on pages 246 and 248 represent two distinct yet
related efforts to understand the spatial behavior of this
deadly disease. In the first instance, the infectious disease
specialist Abraham Verghese turned to cartography to
investigate the spread of AIDS in rural Tennessee. Maps
enabled him to see patterns of patient behavior that would
have serious implications for his practice and the treatment of
AIDS in rural areas more generally. In the second instance, the
geographer Peter Gould experimented with early computer
modeling in an urgent quest to track—and thereby predict—
the path of the epidemic in the nation’s cities.
Gould’s “heat maps” underscore the terror of AIDS. They
also represent a shift in mapping that points to a more basic—
and easily overlooked—legacy of the 1960s. The research
required to send a man to the moon also improved computer
technology and led to the introduction of the microchip.
Similarly, the Internet began as a high-speed communication
network for the military in the 1960s. These technological
innovations—advanced by the Cold War—also transformed
mapmaking, and by extension cartographic and spatial
thinking. Just as new mapmaking techniques drove the first
visualizations of slavery on page 142, the advent of digital
mapping opened up new forms of inquiry and investigation.
By the turn of the twentieth century, data mapping and
modeling had proliferated into areas as diverse as public
health, politics, urban planning, and marketing.
We close this chapter with a map that marks the end of
one era and the beginning of another. The terrorist attacks
of September 11, 2001, point to the unsettled nature of
international relations in the aftermath of the Cold War.
Laura Kurgan’s map of Lower Manhattan represents an effort
to guide visitors at Ground Zero as they grappled with the
meaning of the attacks (page 256). Kurgan mapped a site that
was simultaneously a battlefield and a memorial. The map
of Ground Zero—its future uncertain—mirrors the more
general questions that bedeviled Americans as they entered
a new century.