The Past, Present, and Future of Black Lives
30% of the proceeds from these 25 titles will be donated all summer long.
This month, we're donating to Communities United for Police Reform.
If you can, please consider donating directly.
Due to increased demand, many of these titles are on backorder and may ship slower than usual.
The titles on this list may change pending availability. Thank you in advance for your patience.
Black Lives Matter.
This brilliant volume captures Angela Davis' immense talent for revisionist historical analysis and counter-cultural social theory. The titular themes of identity form a powerful braid of justice, and as a result of their myriad connections this has become nothing short of the textbook for intersectionality.
Why do Americans tend to accept the premise that divisions between America's social strata are due to race? Why don't we more accurately attribute such divisions to racism? Here's why.
The characters in Wayward Lives, Beautiful Experiments are rarely written about. For the most part stories about women of color born into poverty are lost or erased, they survive only as names in the ledgers of correctional facilities, or a point of evidence in some sociologist's dissection of a social problem. Hartman's book is an in-depth study of just these kinds of girls, women who were part of the great migration to the north after Emancipation, girls who ended up in riots, or a chorus line, instead of a home or a steady job. Because there's so little concrete evidence about these women, Hartman's book is part fiction, part history, filled with exquisite descriptions of heartbreak and lost virginities and long nights, of the smell of summer in Harlem and the screech of voices on the Atlantic City boardwalk. This is history told as fiction because it is, in part, the only way it can be recovered, and I promise you it will be one of the most astonishingly beautiful books you have ever read.
An expressionistic examination, through the prism of Morrison's own prose, into the origins of the American sense of Other. On the befuddling 19th century romanticism of the slave, becoming (or unbecoming) the Stranger, the fetish of race, side configurations of "blackness", and a heartbreaking tale of slave infanticide.
Searing, brilliant, true: Poetry and essay conjoined at the heart. Threaded through with powerful art by Carrie Mae Weems, Wangechi Mutu, John Lucas, and others, Citizen becomes artifact and evidence as Rankineconfronts the trope of racial invisibility imbedded in our "shared" history, language, and culture. Whether channeling the broken voices of Hurricane Katrina survivors, or unpacking the ubiquitous, casual racism of white "peers," there's a pervasive sense of incredulity, always and forever choked by reality: "Did I hear what I think I heard? Did that just come out of my mouth, his mouth, your mouth?" Rankine realizes, "The world is wrong. You can't put the past behind you. It's buried in you; it's turned your flesh into its own cupboard." Despite being embalmed in an acid bath of racism, we fugitive citizens stumble on.
Reading this book—confronting Bryan Stevenson’s humility, generosity, kindness, diligence, and wisdom—is the closest I’ve come recently to glimpsing the cheek of god.
Amazingly honest and raw like a James Balwdwin essay. I couldn't put it down nor be unaffected emotionally.