A collection of 14 papers that suggest how educators can develop and implement AIDS education programs in public schools, and provide for the fair treatment of students infected with the virus. They consider urban and rural high schools, AIDS/HIV education in teacher training, student support groups, and criteria for evaluating an AIDS curriculum. Annotation copyright by Book News, Inc., Portland, OR

The photography that Americans invented in the sixties and seventies was as innovative, bold, and vital as their music. In the wild years between the publication of Robert Frank's landmark The Americans in 1958 and the discovery of the postmodernist Cindy Sherman in the early 1980s, the photographers featured in this book embarked on their own personal quests for an independent and unique photographic language that would redefine the scope and content of documentary photography as well as the expressive potential of the photographic image. Real heroes of a challenging, dynamic modernity, they believed in a medium with endless possibilities and devoted themselves, with an abundance of creative energy, to reinvigorating it in a wide range of inventive ways. GIlles Mora introduces us to the work of these heroic photographers, and to the curators, gallery owners, critics, and collectors who facilitated their rise in the art world and the marketplace. Members of an authentic artistic community, inspired by the legacy of Walker Evans, they include major figures such as Garry Winogrand, Lee Friedlander, Diane Arbus, Les Krims, Ralph Eugene Meatyard, BIll Owens, Robert Adams, Henry Wessel Jr., William Eggleston, and Joel Meyerowitz, along with the gallery owner Lee D. Witkin and the great MoMA curator John Szarkowski. This generation of photographers knew it was remarkable. Today, with Giles Mora as a guide, we can look back on it with greater appreciation. The Last Photographic Heroes offers a personal perspective on this lively and engaging chapter in modern photography, presenting not only a critique but also a veritable visual anthology of major photographic works and artists. -- from dust jacket.

Has America been a place that has preserved and protected Jewish life? Is it a place in which a Jewish future is ensured? Samuel Heilman, long-time observer of American Jewish life, grapples with these questions from a sociologist’s perspective. He argues that the same conditions that have allowed Jews to live in relative security since the 1950s have also presented them with a greater challenge than did the adversity and upheaval of earlier years. The second half of the twentieth century has been a time when American Jews have experienced a minimum of prejudice and almost all domains of life have been accessible to them, but it has also been a time of assimilation, of swelling rates of intermarriage, and of large numbers ignoring their Jewishness completely. Jews have no trouble building synagogues, but they have all sorts of trouble filling them. The quality of Jewish education is perhaps higher than ever before, and the output of Jewish scholarship is overwhelming in its scope and quality, but most American Jews receive a minimum of religious education and can neither read nor comprehend the great corpus of Jewish literature in its Hebrew (or Aramaic) original. This is a time in America when there is no shame in being a Jew, and yet fewer American Jews seem to know what being a Jew means. How did this come to be? What does it portend for the Jewish future? This book endeavors to answer these questions by examining data gleaned from numerous sociological surveys. Heilman first discusses the decade of the fifties and the American Jewish quest for normalcy and mobility. He then details the polarization of American Jewry into active and passive elements in the sixties and seventies. Finally he looks at the eighties and nineties and the issues of Jewish survival and identity and the question of a Jewish future in America. He also considers generational variation, residential and marital patterns, institutional development (especially with regard to Jewish education), and Jewish political power and influence. This book is part of a stocktaking that has been occurring among Jews as the century in which their residence in America was firmly established comes to an end. Grounded in empirical detail, it provides a concise yet analytic evaluation of the meaning of the many studies and surveys of the last four and a half decades. Taking a long view of American Jewry, it is one of very few books that build on specific sociological data but get beyond its detail. All those who want to know what it means and has meant to be an American Jew will find this volume of interest.

The Weathermen. The Symbionese Liberation Army. The FALN. The Black Liberation Army. The names seem quaint now, but there was a stretch of time in America when there was on average more than one significant terrorist act in the U.S. every week. The FBI combated these groups and others as nodes in a single revolutionary underground, dedicated to the violent overthrow of the American government. Thus began a decade-long battle between the FBI and these homegrown terrorists, compellingly and thrillingly documented in Days of Rage.

1969. Youth cried out for revolution. When we think of the sixties today, we may conjure a young girl topless and high on LSD, dancing to wild rock and roll music. But these years weren't at all like that for much of America. Our visions of this time often come more from imagination than from reality. What was really going on?In this era, America was deeply divided and at war with itself. The flamboyant, glamorous myth of a whole generation seeking freedom is so much more appealing to our idea of ourselves as Americans--that we are ever reaching toward the new, throwing off the old. But there was a very gritty side to those years, too. It took great struggles to right injustices and to move our culture toward a more egalitarian society. Enormous strides were made, but with the abruptness of an earthquake relieving pent-up pressure along a fault line--and often, seemingly, with just as much disruption. Yet at the same time, daily life continued apace for many: school days and playtimes, barbecues and roller rinks, front porches and days at the beach.These pages offer a portrait of America the way it really was for me as I lived it and documented it--from 1969, when I turned 18 and first began to identify myself as a photographer, through President Nixon's resignation in 1974, which many consider the true end of the decade. For those of us who were there, this portrait will spark thoughtful remembrances. For those who were not there, it will add to your understanding of our collective history. This was a time in America we should not forget. It was a time when young Americans saw much promise and felt that fundamental change was possible. It was a time when young people could dream of a better world.

In 1959, Richard Bellamy was a witty, poetry-loving beatnik on the fringe of the New York art world who was drawn to artists impatient for change. By 1965, he was representing Mark di Suvero, was the first to show Andy Warhol’s pop art, and pioneered the practice of “off-site” exhibitions and introduced the new genre of installation art. As a dealer, he helped discover and champion many of the innovative successors to the abstract expressionists, including Claes Oldenburg, James Rosenquist, Donald Judd, Dan Flavin, Walter De Maria, and many others. The founder and director of the fabled Green Gallery on Fifty-Seventh Street, Bellamy thrived on the energy of the sixties. With the covert support of America’s first celebrity art collectors, Robert and Ethel Scull, Bellamy gained his footing just as pop art, minimalism, and conceptual art were taking hold and the art world was becoming a playground for millionaires. Yet as an eccentric impresario dogged by alcohol and uninterested in profits or posterity, Bellamy rarely did more than show the work he loved. As fellow dealers such as Leo Castelli and Sidney Janis capitalized on the stars he helped find, Bellamy slowly slid into obscurity, becoming the quiet man in oversize glasses in the corner of the room, a knowing and mischievous smile on his face. Born to an American father and a Chinese mother in a Cincinnati suburb, Bellamy moved to New York in his twenties and made a life for himself between the Beat orbits of Provincetown and white-glove events like the Guggenheim’s opening gala. No matter the scene, he was always considered “one of us,” partying with Norman Mailer, befriending Diane Arbus and Yoko Ono, and hosting or performing in historic Happenings. From his early days at the Hansa Gallery to his time at the Green to his later life as a private dealer, Bellamy had his finger on the pulse of the culture. Based on decades of research and on hundreds of interviews with Bellamy’s artists, friends, colleagues, and lovers, Judith E. Stein’s Eye of the Sixties rescues the legacy of the elusive art dealer and tells the story of a counterculture that became the mainstream. A tale of money, taste, loyalty, and luck, Richard Bellamy’s life is a remarkable window into the art of the twentieth century and the making of a generation’s aesthetic. -- "Bellamy had an understanding of art and a very fine sense of discovery. There was nobody like him, I think. I certainly consider myself his pupil." --Leo Castelli