Formed in 1974, the Combahee River Collective was a radical Black feminist organization.
This is a story of the underground railroad, of memory, and of magic—all told with Coates’s exquisite prose.
This is a lucid, steady journey through the meaning of both racism and antiracism.
Jenny Brown looks at the declining birth rate in the US—alongside well-funded resistance to abortion and contraceptive access—and sees not a moral divide but an economic power struggle.
Claudia Rankine’s book-length lyric poem is adorned with an image of a torn black hood—a reference that could be any of the many black men and women who have been abused by the white state.
The most talked-about feature of Whitehead’s novel of the underground railroad is the railroad itself: reimagined as an actual railroad, with tunnels and tracks and steam engines and crazed conductors, it makes for stunning, cinematic imagery.
More than three decades after this collection was first published, it remains as critical, as relevant, as unremitting as ever.
A comprehensive, authoritative, and nuanced look at how the Black Panther Party was born, the nature of its methods and politics, and the many forces that caused it to unravel.
Davis has spent more than five decades fighting for Black liberation, women’s liberation, and prison abolition, and in this brief book she renews those calls in lucid and moral terms.
“If we…do not falter in our duty now, we may be able, handful that we are, to end the racial nightmare, and achieve our country, and change the history of the world.”
Anderson traces the repeated push and pull of black advancement and the white response that sought to defeat it, from Reconstruction through Jim Crow, mass incarceration, and the dismantling of the Voting Rights Act.
Written and edited by a group of white Christian theologians, this book looks at how white supremacy is constructed and maintained, how the church is implicated in that system, and what individuals and communities can do to dismantle it.
By arguing that hope is a prerequisite of success, Solnit makes the case that even when we are most inclined to despair, we have to choose to hope.
“We have not ended racial caste in America, we have merely redesigned it,” writes Michelle Alexander, in her damning history of mass incarceration.
A criticism of technology that puts the needs of humans ahead of the needs of technology.
A vigorous defense of the value of culture and a rejection of simplistic market fantasies that reduce art, journalism, and music to demand economics.
We should all be as bad at feminism as Roxane Gay is.
The title is cheeky, the subject is not: Solnit’s explorations into the power structures that underlie violence against women, rape culture, marriage equality, and, yes—mansplaining—is both scathing and hopeful.