Ms. Magazine

In The Future Is Disabled, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha asks some provocative questions: What if, in the near future, the majority of people will be disabled—and what if that's not a bad thing? And what if disability justice and disabled wisdom are crucial to creating a future in which it's possible to survive fascism, climate change, and pandemics and to bring about liberation? Building on the work of her game changing book Care Work: Dreaming Disability Justice, Piepzna-Samarasinha writes about disability justice at the end of the world, documenting the many ways disabled people kept and are keeping each other—and the rest of the world—alive during Trump, fascism and the COVID-19 pandemic. Other subjects include crip interdependence, care and mutual aid in real life, disabled community building, and disabled art practice as survival and joy. Written over the course of two years of disabled isolation during the pandemic, this is a book of love letters to other disabled QTBIPOC (and those concerned about disability justice, the care crisis, and surviving the apocalypse); honor songs for kin who are gone; recipes for survival; questions and real talk about care, organizing, disabled families, and kin networks and communities; and wild brown disabled femme joy in the face of death. With passion and power, The Future Is Disabled remembers our dead and insists on our future. This updated edition includes a new chapter and afterword by the author.

“Magical...Lamia Ziadé tells the story of the explosion as she experienced it: from afar but in the heart. A book of love, mourning and anger”-- Elle On the evening of August 4, 2020, an explosion tore through Beirut, leaving nearly 200 people dead, 6,000 injured, and 300,000 homeless. The blast was caused by storing thousands of tons of ammonium nitrate alongside a stash of fireworks—a deadly arrangement about which the government had known but done nothing. For six months straight, French Lebanese author and artist Lamia Ziadé wrote, illustrated, and recorded every new piece of information, every photograph of the wreckage or the wounded. In My Port of Beirut, Ziadé weaves together the play-by-play of the tragedy and the history of Lebanon with her own personal stories and her participation in the 2019 protests against state corruption, laying out the historical and political background that made such a catastrophe possible and, perhaps, inevitable. Lamia Ziadé is a Lebanese author, illustrator, and visual artist. Born in Beirut in 1968 and raised during the Lebanese Civil War, she moved to Paris at 18 to study graphic arts. She then worked as a designer for Jean-Paul Gaultier, exhibited her art in numerous galleries internationally, and went on to publish several illustrated books, including Ma très grande mélancolie arabe, which won the Prix France-Liban, Ô nuit, ô mes yeux and Bye bye Babylone.

Men to Avoid in Art and Life pairs classical fine art with modern captions that epitomize the spirit of mansplaining. This hilarious book perfectly captures those relatable moments when a man explains to a woman a subject about which he knows considerably less than she does. Situations include men sharing keen insight on the female anatomy, an eloquent defense of catcalling, or offering sage advice about horseback riding to the woman who owns the horse. • These less qualified men of antiquity dish out mediocrity as if it's pure genius • For the women who have endured overbearing men over the centuries • Written with hilariously painful accuracy "Now, when you're riding a horse, you need to make sure to keep a good grip on the reins." "These are my horses." Through cringe-induced empathy, this timeless gift book of shared experiences unites women across history in one of the most powerful forms of resistance: laughter. • Started as a Twitter thread and quickly gained widespread popularity. • A great pick for a birthday or Galentine gift for a friend who needs a funny pick-me-up • Makes a perfect gift for women and feminists with a wry sense of humor, millennials, anyone who loves memes and Internet humor, as well as history and art buffs. • Add it to the shelf with books like Men Explain Things to Me by Rebecca Solnit, Milk and Vine: Inspirational Quotes from Classic Vines by Emily Beck, and Awards For Good Boys: Tales Of Dating, Double Standards, And Doom by Shelby Lorman.

A groundbreaking collection of first-person writing on the joys and challenges of the modern disability experience: Disability Visibility brings together the voices of activists, authors, lawyers, politicians, artists, and everyday people whose daily lives are, in the words of playwright Neil Marcus, "an art . . . an ingenious way to live." • Edited by MacArthur "Genius Grant" Fellow Alice Wong “Shares perspectives that are too often missing from such decision-making about accessibility.” —The Washington Post According to the last census, one in five people in the United States lives with a disability. Some are visible, some are hidden--but all are underrepresented in media and popular culture. Now, just in time for the thirtieth anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act, activist Alice Wong brings together an urgent, galvanizing collection of personal essays by contemporary disabled writers.There is Harriet McBryde Johnson's "Unspeakable Conversations," which describes her famous debate with Princeton philosopher Peter Singer over her own personhood. There is columnist s. e. smith's celebratory review of a work of theater by disabled performers. There are original pieces by up-and-coming authors like Keah Brown and Haben Girma. There are blog posts, manifestos, eulogies, and testimonies to Congress. Taken together, this anthology gives a glimpse of the vast richness and complexity of the disabled experience, highlighting the passions, talents, and everyday lives of this community. It invites readers to question their own assumptions and understandings. It celebrates and documents disability culture in the now. It looks to the future and past with hope and love.

This vibrant book pulses with the beats of a new American South, probing the ways music, literature, and film have remixed southern identities for a post–civil rights generation. For scholar and critic Regina N. Bradley, Outkast's work is the touchstone, a blend of funk, gospel, and hip-hop developed in conjunction with the work of other culture creators—including T.I., Kiese Laymon, and Jesmyn Ward. This work, Bradley argues, helps define new cultural possibilities for black southerners who came of age in the 1980s and 1990s and have used hip-hop culture to buffer themselves from the historical narratives and expectations of the civil rights era. Andre 3000, Big Boi, and a wider community of creators emerge as founding theoreticians of the hip-hop South, framing a larger question of how the region fits into not only hip-hop culture but also contemporary American society as a whole. Chronicling Stankonia reflects the ways that culture, race, and southernness intersect in the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries. Although part of southern hip-hop culture remains attached to the past, Bradley demonstrates how younger southerners use the music to embrace the possibility of multiple Souths, multiple narratives, and multiple points of entry to contemporary southern black identity.