Are black men naturally violent? Do they define manhood in the same way as their counterparts across lines of race? Are black Greek-letter fraternities among the most dangerous student organizations on American college and university campuses? Can their often-dangerous initiation processes be stopped or even modified and, if not, what should be done about them? In this second edition of Black Haze, Ricky L. Jones takes on these questions and more. The first edition was an enlightening and sometimes disturbing examination of American men's quest for acceptance, comfort, reaffirmation, and manhood in a world where their footing is often unstable. In this new edition Jones not only provides masterful philosophical and ethical analyses but he also forces the engagement of a terrifying real world process that damages and kills students with all too frequent regularity. With a revealing new preface and stunning afterword, Jones immerses the reader in an intriguing and dark world marked by hypermasculinity, unapologetic brutality, and sometimes death. He offers a compelling book that ranges well beyond the subject of hazing—one that yields perplexing questions and demands difficult choices as we move forward in addressing issues surrounding fraternities, violent hazing, black men, and American society.

With a view that behavioralism has distorted perceptions of black political activity, Hanes Walton, Jr., here reformulates the assumptions of behavioralism to arrive at a more realistic understanding of the political actions of black Americans. Considering the cultural and historical events that have shaped black lives, Walton examines voting patterns, socialization, and the development of political opinion. his analysis of leadership includes not only legislative and judicial leaders, but also leaders of those organizations so influential in black political culture: civil rights, churches, and grassroots organizations. Whether he looks at how local politics have changed through the years of civil rights action or how blacks' ideas on foreign policy have developed, Walton provides a long-needed reassessment of the role of black participation in American politics.

Born just twenty years after the end of slavery and orphaned at the age of five, Lucy Diggs Slowe (1885–1937) became a seventeen-time tennis champion and the first African American woman to win a major sports title, a founder of the Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority, and the first Dean of Women at Howard University. She provided leadership and service in a wide range of organizations concerned with improving the conditions of women, African Americans, and other disadvantaged groups and also participated in peace activism. Among her many accomplishments, she created the first junior high school for black students in Washington, DC. In this long overdue biography, Carroll L. L. Miller and Anne S. Pruitt-Logan tell the remarkable story of Slowe's steadfast determination working her way through college, earning respect as a teacher and dean, and standing up to Howard's President and Board of Trustees in insisting on equal treatment of women. Along the way, the authors weave together recurring themes in African American history: the impact of racism, the importance of education, the role of sports, and gender inequality.

Tae has moved twice in his life. First, from South Korea to the United States when he was adopted as a baby, and then to a new town before he starts high school. In Tae’s new school, he’s one of the youngest players, and the only person of color, trying out for the Varsity soccer team—a team known for its violent hazing practices. Tae wants more than anything to be part of the team, but worries about fitting in. Then, he sees a familiar face. Luke is a soccer star on his way to scoring a role as the team captain and a full ride to college, but no one knows his secret—that he was adopted too. Tae and Luke met in an adoption group years before, and Luke’s first instinct is to help Tae fit in. But tradition is tradition, and Luke might not be able to save Tae from being hurt in the hazing rituals without risking his own reputation.

Charleston, South Carolina, today enjoys a reputation as a destination city for cultural and heritage tourism. In A Golden Haze of Memory, Stephanie E. Yuhl looks back to the crucial period between 1920 and 1940, when local leaders developed Charleston's trademark image as "America's Most Historic City." Eager to assert the national value of their regional cultural traditions and to situate Charleston as a bulwark against the chaos of modern America, these descendants of old-line families downplayed Confederate associations and emphasized the city's colonial and early national prominence. They created a vibrant network of individual artists, literary figures, and organizations--such as the all-white Society for the Preservation of Negro Spirituals--that nurtured architectural preservation, art, literature, and tourism while appropriating African American folk culture. In the process, they translated their selective and idiosyncratic personal, familial, and class memories into a collective identity for the city. The Charleston this group built, Yuhl argues, presented a sanitized yet highly marketable version of the American past. Their efforts invited attention and praise from outsiders while protecting social hierarchies and preserving the political and economic power of whites. Through the example of this colorful southern city, Yuhl posits a larger critique about the use of heritage and demonstrates how something as intangible as the recalled past can be transformed into real political, economic, and social power.

Juxtaposes the meteoric rise of Barack Obama with far-reaching—and disturbing—shifts in black leadership in post–Civil Rights America.