Results by title

WINNER OF THE ELIZABETH AGEE PRIZE IN AMERICAN LITERATURE

Challenges the commonplace narrative that the African American experience of captivity in the United States is reducible to the legal institution of slavery, a status remedied through emancipation
 
In Bound to Respect: Antebellum Narratives of Black Imprisonment, Servitude, and Bondage, 1816–1861, Keith Michael Green examines key texts that illuminate forms of black bondage and captivity that existed within and alongside slavery. In doing so, he restores to antebellum African American autobiographical writing the fascinating heterogeneity lost if the historical experiences of African Americans are attributed to slavery alone.
 
The book’s title is taken from the assertion by US Supreme Court chief justice Roger B. Taney in his 1857 Dred Scott decision that blacks had no rights that whites were “bound to respect.” This allusion highlights Green’s critical assertion that the dehumanizing absurdities to which defenders of slavery resorted to justify slavery only brought into more stark relief the humanity of African Americans.
 
A gifted storyteller, Green examines four forms of captivity: incarceration, enslavement to Native Americans, child indentured servitude, and maritime capture. By illuminating this dense penumbra of captivity beyond the strict definitions of slavery, he presents a fluid and holistic network of images, vocabulary, narratives, and history. By demonstrating how these additional forms of confinement flourished in the era of slavery, Green shows how they persisted beyond emancipation, in such a way that freed slaves did not in fact partake of “freedom” as white Americans understood it. This gap in understanding continues to bedevil contemporary American society, and Green deftly draws persuasive connections between past and present.
 
A vital and convincing offering to readers of literary criticism, African American studies, and American history, Green’s Bound to Respect brings fresh and nuanced insights to this fundamental chapter in the American story.

A definitive study of the political forces that reshaped Alabama after Reconstruction.

In Bourbon Democracy in Alabama, 1874-1890, historian Johnston Allen Going offers a seminal examination of the political transformation of Alabama during the years following Reconstruction. Focusing on the rise of Bourbon Democratic leadership, Going explores how a new political elite consolidated power, reshaped state institutions, and directed Alabama's economic and social development during a pivotal period in Southern history.

Drawing on extensive historical research, the book traces the efforts of Democratic leaders to restore political control after Reconstruction while promoting policies associated with the emerging New South. Going analyzes the complex interplay of political ideology, economic modernization, class interests, and racial dynamics that influenced governance and public life between 1874 and 1890. Through detailed accounts of elections, legislative initiatives, and political struggles, the study reveals how Alabama's leaders sought to balance progress, stability, and authority in a rapidly changing society.

A landmark contribution to both Alabama history and the broader study of the post-Reconstruction South, Bourbon Democracy in Alabama provides critical insight into the forces that shaped regional politics and helped define the course of Southern development in the late nineteenth century. Essential for understanding the origins of modern Alabama politics, this book is a valuable resource for historians, students, political scientists, genealogists, and anyone interested in Southern history and government.

Reaching the top in any sport requires a long, hard climb. But when you start with the baggage of years of family dysfunction and incarceration in a hellish mental hospital, the climb is especially steep. Yet even with such weights to carry, Anissa Zamarron won not one, but two, world championships in women's boxing. Her story, as dramatically intense as the Clint Eastwood film Million Dollar Baby, is one of tremendous courage and determination to overcome the odds against her as a Latina and as a woman working through mental illness and addiction—a fight in which Zamarron has been as powerful and successful as she has been in the boxing ring.

In this compelling biography, acclaimed author W. K. "Kip" Stratton collaborates with Zamarron to tell the story of her unlikely rise to the pinnacle of women's boxing. With searing honesty, Zamarron describes how the chaotic breakup of her childhood family caused her to develop "demons" that drove her to aggressive behavior in school, an addiction to self-destructive habits, including cutting, and eventually to a corrupt for-profit mental hospital in which she spent eighteen months tied to a bed. She explains how boxing became her salvation as an adult; she learned how to turn her anger and aggression into motivation to train hard and excel at her sport, not only becoming the first woman to fight as a professional in a sanctioned fight in New York, but also fighting more ten-round fights than any other woman in history. A gripping account of Zamarron's 2005 upset win over Maribel Zurita to claim her second world championship caps the book.

In the mid-1950s, as many developing nations sought independence from colonial rule, black women in the American South and in South Africa launched parallel campaigns to end racial injustice within their respective communities. Just as the dignified obstinacy of Mrs. Rosa Parks sparked the Montgomery bus boycott in 1955, the 20,000 South African women who marched in Pretoria a year later to protest the pass laws signaled a new wave of resistance to the system of apartheid. In both places women who had previously been consigned to subordinate roles brought fresh leadership to the struggle for political freedom and social equality. 

In this book, Pamela E. Brooks tells their story, documenting the extraordinary achievements of otherwise ordinary women. In comparing the experiences of black women activists in two different parts of the African diaspora, Brooks draws heavily on oral histories that provide clear, and often painful, insight into their backgrounds, their motives, their hopes, and their fears. We learn how black women from all walks of life—domestic and factory workers, householders, teachers, union organizers, churchwomen, clubwomen, rural and urban dwellers alike—had to overcome their class differences and work through the often difficult gender relations within their families and communities. Yet eventually they came together to forge their own political organizations, such as the Women's Political Council and the Federation of South African Women, or joined orga-nizations of women and men, such as the Montgomery Improvement Association and the African National Congress, to advance the common agenda of black liberation.By tracing the dual rise of political consciousness and activism among the black women of the U.S. South and South Africa, Brooks not only illuminates patterns that have long been overlooked but places that shared history within the context of a larger global struggle to bring an end to the vestiges of European colonialism.

“Before we parted, the General told me he should never see me more; for he was going with a handful of men to conquer whole nations; and to do this they must cut their way through unknown woods. He produced a map of the country, saying at the same time, ‘Dear Pop, we are sent like sacrifices to the altar.’” - George Anne Bellamy on General Edward Braddock’s departure

In January 1755, Major General Edward Braddock was sent by Great Britain on a mission to drive France once and for all from the New World. Accompanied by the largest armed expeditionary force ever sent to North America, Braddock’s primary target was the Forks of the Ohio, where he planned to seize Fort Duquesne (at present-day Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania), and then march north into Canada. After landing in Alexandria, Virginia, and organizing his troops and supply chain, Braddock and his expedition began its nearly 250-mile trek, heroically cutting through uncharted wilderness, fording rivers, and scaling the Appalachian mountains, all while hauling baggage and heavy artillery. Braddock was joined on this epic mission by a young Virginia colonel, George Washington, and others who would later play major roles in the American Revolution, including Horatio Gates, Thomas Gage, and Charles Lee; among those driving the expedition’s wagons were Daniel Boone and Daniel Morgan. Having withstood the harsh frontier and finally marching upon Fort Duquesne on a hot July morning, Braddock’s exhausted column was ambushed by a combined French and Indian force. Over two-thirds of Braddock’s British and colonial troops were killed or wounded, including Braddock himself, struck by a bullet in the chest while attempting to rally his disoriented troops. George Washington miraculously escaped harm despite four bullet holes through his clothing. With this battle, North America became the greatest stake in the global war between France and Great Britain.

In Braddock’s March: How the Man Sent to Seize a Continent Changed American History, Thomas E. Crocker tells the riveting story of one of the most important events in colonial America. Not only did Braddock’s expedition have a profound impact on American political and military developments, this fateful march laid the foundation for the “National Pike,” the major road for westward expansion, launched the career of George Washington, and sowed the seeds of dissent between  England and its colonies that would ultimately lead to the American Revolution.

Trees are not just natural resources; they are also cultural ones that present unique challenges and opportunities for public historians. Trees can serve as important objects of memory, recalling past triumphs or tragedies. They can be the last living witness to important events or community stories. Trees can also be objects of preservation, sometimes as individuals, other times as stands or even forests, all of which can take on historical significance for people, sites, and institutions. But as living entities they defy the kind of permanent legal preservation applicable to buildings and other non-living historical objects. Furthermore, their organic fragility can actually make them significant problems for historical sites and local preservation activities. For example, communities have had to cope with extensive tree loss from storm and fire damage, and dying trees can drop limbs or topple over, creating considerable danger to people and resources. Climate-change-driven increasing storm intensity has also highlighted the ways that trees—however historical or beloved—can become considerable threats.

The fourteen new essays in this volume explore the many ways that trees are an integral part of public history practice and sites. The authors draw on a range of approaches and historiographies to look at how memories of race-based hate, patriotic stories, community identities, and changed places have all centered on trees. In addition to contributions from the volume editors, this collection features scholarship by Sonja Dümpelmann Andrew Hurley, Carolyn M. Barske Crawford, Brian Dempsey, Liz Sargent, Sasha Coles, Mariaelena DiBenigno, Evan Haefeli, Krista McCracken, Alena Pirok, Christian Kosmas Mayer Alaina Scapicchio, and David Glassberg. 

Ask anyone to name an archetypal Texan, and you're likely to get a larger-than-life character from film or television (say John Wayne's Davy Crockett or J. R. Ewing of TV's Dallas) or a politician with that certain swagger (think LBJ or George W. Bush). That all of these figures are white and male and bursting with self-confidence is no accident, asserts Leigh Clemons. In this thoughtful study of what makes a "Texan," she reveals how Texan identity grew out of the history—and, even more, the myth—of the heroic deeds performed by Anglo men during the Texas Revolution and the years of the Republic and how this identity is constructed and maintained by theatre and other representational practices.

Clemons looks at a wide range of venues in which "Texanness" is performed, including historic sites such as the Alamo, the battlefield at Goliad, and the San Jacinto Monument; museums such as the Bob Bullock Texas State History Museum; seasonal outdoor dramas such as Texas! at Palo Duro Canyon; films such as John Wayne's The Alamo and the IMAX's Alamo: The Price of Freedom; plays and TV shows such as the Tuna trilogy, Dallas, and King of the Hill; and the Cavalcade of Texas performance at the 1936 Texas Centennial. She persuasively demonstrates that these performances have created a Texan identity that has become a brand, a commodity that can be sold to the public and even manipulated for political purposes.

Over the past two decades, corporations and other commercial entities have used strategic litigation to win more expansive First Amendment protections for commercial speech—from the regulation of advertising to the role corporate interests play in the political process, most recently debated in the Supreme Court case of Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission. Tamara R. Piety, a nationally known critic of commercial and corporate speech, argues that such an expansion of First Amendment speech rights imperils public health, safety, and welfare; the reliability of commercial and consumer information; the stability of financial markets; and the global environment. 

Beginning with an evaluation of commonly evoked philosophical justifications for freedom of expression, Piety determines that, while these are appropriate for the protection of an individual’s rights, they should not be applied too literally to commercial expression because the corporate person is not the moral equivalent of the human person. She then gathers evidence from public relations and marketing, behavioral economics, psychology, and cognitive studies to show how overly permissive extensions of First Amendment protections to commercial expression limit governmental power to address some of the major social, economic, and environmental challenges of our time.

“The timeliness of the topic and the provision of original positions are sure to make the book a valuable contribution that should draw much attention.”
—Kevin W. Saunders, Michigan State University

When the Brazilian military overthrew President João Goulart in 1964, American diplomats characterized the coup as a "100 percent Brazilian movement." It has since become apparent, largely through government documents declassified during the course of research for this book, that the United States had an invisible but pervasive part in the coup.

Relying principally on documents from the Johnson and Kennedy presidential libraries, Phyllis Parker unravels the events of the coup in fascinating detail. The evidence she presents is corroborated by interviews with key participants.

U.S. interference in the Goulart regime began when normal diplomatic pressure failed to produce the desired enthusiasm from him for the Alliance of Progress. Political and economic manipulations also proving ineffective, the United States stood ready to back a military takeover of Brazil's constitutional democracy.

U.S. operation "Brother Sam" involved shipments of petroleum, a naval task force, and tons of arms and ammunition in preparation for intervention during the 1964 coup. When the Brazilian military gained control without calling on the ready assistance, U.S. policy makers immediately accorded recognition to the new government and set in motion plans for economic support.

Analyzing disjunctions between middle-class and working-class women's ideas of independence, Vapnek highlights the agendas for change advanced by leaders such as Jennie Collins, Leonora O'Reilly, and Helen Campbell and organizations such as the National Consumers' League, the Women's Educational and Industrial Union, and the Women's Trade Union League. Locating households as important sites of class conflict, Breadwinners recovers the class and gender politics behind the marginalization of domestic workers from labor reform while documenting the ways in which working-class women raised their voices on their own behalf.

How two teenage girls in Minnesota jump-started a revolution in high school athletics

Peggy Brenden, a senior, played tennis. Toni St. Pierre, a junior, was a cross country runner and skier. All these two talented teenagers wanted was a chance to compete on their high school sports teams. But in Minnesota in 1972 the only way on the field with the boys ran through a federal court—so that was where the girls went. Break Point tells the story, for the first time, of how two teenagers took on the unequal system of high school athletics, setting a legal precedent for schools nationwide before the passage of Title IX.

As Peggy’s younger sister, author Sheri Brenden is uniquely positioned to convey the human drama of the case, the stakes, and the consequences for two young women facing the legal machinery of the state, in court and in school. In an account that begins with Peggy painstakingly typing her appeal to the Minnesota Civil Liberties Union and concludes with a long view of what Brenden v. Independent School District 742 set in motion, Sheri Brenden summons the salient details of this landmark case as it makes its way through the courts. Peggy and Toni, coaches, administrators, and experts testify before Judge Miles Lord, whose decision, upheld in a precedent-setting appeal, would change these girls’ lives and open up athletic opportunities for innumerable others.

Grounded in newspaper coverage, court records, and interviews, Brenden’s deeply researched, scrupulously reported book is at heart the story of two talented teenage girls whose pluck and determination—and, often, heartache—led to a victory much greater than any high school championship.

In this engaging new work, Terrell Dempsey and Patrick Hotle draw from newly discovered and underutilized primary sources to craft a detailed narrative history of the rise of a group of radical abolitionists in Quincy, Illinois, and the outsized, if mostly overlooked, influence they had on the dissolution of the Union.

The story begins with the 1830 arrival in Marion County, Missouri, of Dr. David Nelson, a Presbyterian minister and supporter of the American Colonization Society. After hearing a speech by Theodore B. Weld, Nelson was converted to the abolitionist cause and went on to recruit Elijah Lovejoy into the region’s nascent anti-slavery movement. Nelson’s activities resulted in the creation of an active anti-abolitionist organization in Northeast Missouri that ended up running him out of the state and across the river to Quincy, Illinois, at the same time Lovejoy sought shelter in Alton, Illinois.

In Quincy, Nelson and a group of like-minded moderate anti-slavery activists opened a manual labor school called the Mission Institute. Following the murder of Lovejoy by a pro-slavery mob, a small band of abolitionists at the Mission Institute became radicalized and decided to aid enslaved people in their quest for freedom. After three of these abolitionists were captured in Missouri and sentenced to twelve years in prison, others at the Mission Institute published a call for the Illinois Anti-Slavery Society to organize an underground railroad in Illinois. The Society officially committed to assisting enslaved people to escape slavery in May of 1842, which triggered a hostile reaction from enslavers in Missouri who went on to organize patrols, seek stricter state laws, and attempt to sabotage the underground railroad in neighboring Illinois.

In Breaking America, Dempsey and Hotle demonstrate the impact of the Quincy abolitionists on the later Dred Scott cases. The authors trace a sequence of revivals, public meetings, daring escapes, over-reactions, judicial decisions, and violence, providing a roadmap for how Missouri judicial opinion changed from “once free, always free” to “once a slave, always a slave” under Missouri Law. Breaking America is an important new addition to the history of abolitionism, the Dred Scott decision, and the eventual dissolution of the Union. 

A history of the activism that made public spaces in American cities more accessible to women.

From the closing years of the nineteenth century, women received subtle—and not so subtle—messages that they shouldn’t be in public. Or, if they were, that they were not safe. Breaking the Gender Code tells the story of both this danger narrative and the resistance to it.

Historian Georgina Hickey investigates challenges to the code of urban gender segregation in the twentieth century, focusing on organized advocacy to make the public spaces of American cities accessible to women. She traces waves of activism from the Progressive Era, with its calls for public restrooms, safe and accessible transportation, and public accommodations, through and beyond second-wave feminism, and its focus on the creation of alternative, women-only spaces and extensive anti-violence efforts. In doing so, Hickey explores how gender segregation intertwined with other systems of social control, as well as how class, race, and sexuality shaped activists' agendas and women's experiences of urban space. Drawing connections between the vulnerability of women in public spaces, real and presumed, and contemporary debates surrounding rape culture, bathroom bills, and domestic violence, Hickey unveils both the strikingly successful and the incomplete initiatives of activists who worked to open up public space to women.

Amiri Baraka is unquestionably the most recognized leader of the Black Arts Movement of the 1960s and 1970s, and one of the key literary and cultural figures of the postwar United States. While Baraka's political and aesthetic stances changed considerably over the course of his career, Brick City Vanguard demonstrates the continuity in his thinking about the meaning of black music in the material, psychic, and ideological development of black people. Drawing on primary texts, paratexts (including album liner notes), audio and visual recordings, and archival sources, James Smethurst takes a new look at how Baraka's writing on and performance of music envisioned the creation of an African American people or nation, as well as the growth and consolidation of a black working class within that nation, that resonates to this day. This vision also provides a way of understanding the encounter of black people with what has been called “the urban crisis” and a projection of a liberated black future beyond that crisis.