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What happens when we move beyond a Black-and-white understanding of racism? This provocative book challenges conventional narratives by exploring how Mexican Americans navigate the US racial hierarchy—not simply as victims of white supremacy but as complex participants in systems of racial oppression. Tracing the construction of race from colonial regimes to the present, author Bianca Sofia Rubalcava argues that non-Black people of color, particularly Mexican Americans, often negotiate their racial position by distancing themselves from Blackness. Through legal history, social movement archives, and survey data, this work reveals how anti-Blackness has persisted across borders and generations, from the pursuit of legal whiteness to enduring family biases around interracial relationships. Ultimately, the book offers a powerful critique of how anti-Black ideologies hinder cross-racial solidarity and perpetuate marginalization. A bold and necessary intervention, this study pushes the Latinx community—and all readers—to confront complicity and reimagine racial justice in more inclusive and transformative ways.

In the United States, the notion of racial “passing” is usually associated with blacks and other minorities who seek to present themselves as part of the white majority. Yet as Baz Dreisinger demonstrates in this fascinating study, another form of this phenomenon also occurs, if less frequently, in American culture: cases in which legally white individuals are imagined, by themselves or by others, as passing for black. 

In Near Black, Dreisinger explores the oft-ignored history of what she calls “reverse racial passing” by looking at a broad spectrum of short stories, novels, films, autobiographies, and pop-culture discourse that depict whites passing for black. The protagonists of these narratives, she shows, span centuries and cross contexts, from slavery to civil rights, jazz to rock to hip-hop. Tracing their role from the 1830s to the present day, Dreisinger argues that central to the enterprise of reverse passing are ideas about proximity. Because “blackness,” so to speak, is imagined as transmittable, proximity to blackness is invested with the power to turn whites black: those who are literally “near black” become metaphorically “near black.”

While this concept first arose during Reconstruction in the context of white anxieties about miscegenation, it was revised by later white passers for whom proximity to blackness became an authenticating badge. As Dreisinger shows, some white-to-black passers pass via self-identification. Jazz musician Mezz Mezzrow, for example, claimed that living among blacks and playing jazz had literally darkened his skin. Others are taken for black by a given community for a period of time. This was the experience of Jewish critic Waldo Frank during his travels with Jean Toomer, as well as that of disc jockey Hoss Allen, master of R&B slang at Nashville's famed WLAC radio. For journalists John Howard Griffin and Grace Halsell, passing was a deliberate and fleeting experiment, while for Mark Twain's fictional white slave in Pudd'nhead Wilson, it is a near-permanent and accidental occurrence. 

Whether understood as a function of proximity or behavior, skin color or cultural heritage, self-definition or the perception of others, what all these variants of “reverse passing” demonstrate, according to Dreisinger, is that the lines defining racial identity in American culture are not only blurred but subject to change.

No More Dual City: The Fate of Atlantic City examines Atlantic City as a vivid case study of how Black communities endure and resist the forces of economic redevelopment, racialized planning, and environmental vulnerability. Drawing on five years of ethnographic research, Jackson reveals how the city’s famed tourism and casino economy depends upon, yet marginalizes, the historically Black Northside neighborhood. Through the concept of dualness, Jackson explores how racial capitalism produces both material and emotional divides, between growth and decay, visibility and exclusion, and belonging and dispossession. Combining first-person narrative, theory, and community storytelling, the book illuminates the “slow violence” of urban inequality and the creativity of residents who build rooted futures amid instability. No More Dual City reframes Atlantic City not as an anomaly but as a microcosm of racialized urban America, offering a compelling new way to think about sustainability, justice, and the right to stay in place.