The Class of 1965 entered the Military Academy in July 1961. As cadets, they received a traditional West Point education but also studied new fields such as computers and nuclear physics. Upon graduation, members of the class received numerous national scholarships, including one Rhodes scholarship. During the Vietnam War members of the class received no less than one Medal of Honor, four Distinguished Service Crosses, one Air Force Cross, 94 Silver Stars, 5 Soldiers Medals, 175 Bronze Stars with V device for valor, and 129 Purple Hearts. In later years, members of the class served with distinction in Grenada, Panama, Iraq, and elsewhere. They became leaders in transforming the army after the Cold War into a much leaner, more agile, technologically advanced force. Those who left the service, whether after four years in uniform or more, contributed to the nation in a similarly impressive manner. As civilians they excelled in numerous fields and exhibited as much patriotism and Strength and Drive as those still in uniform. Whether in uniform or not, members of the class of 1965 served their communities and nation and never lost sight of the meaning of West Points motto: Duty, Honor, Country.

List of IllustrationsList of TablesAcknowledgmentsIntroductionPart I. The Quest for Independence, 1920-19401. Building Independence in Suburbia2. Peopling the Subur 3. The Texture of Everyday Life4. The Politics of IndependencePart II. Closing Ranks, 1940-19655. "A Beautiful Place"6. The Suburban Good Life Arrives7. The Racializing of Local PoliticsEpilogueAcronyms for Collections and ArchivesNotes Copyright © Libri GmbH. All rights reserved.

We came by car, by plane, by bicycle. Perhaps someone took a bus or a train. We gathered for two evenings at the Atlantis, which didn't exist when we were in school. Some of us visited Wooster and some of us had breakfast and lunches with old friends we hadn't seen in years. We are real estate agents and teachers, nurses and artists, ranchers, lawyers, chiropractors, golfers, computer analysts and programmers, engineers and bridge masters. We served in the military and as firefighters and police. One of us became mayor of Lovelock and one became chair of the Tribal Council for the Reno-Sparks Indian Colony. Others have worked in state, local and federal agencies. Some of us have come to every reunion; some have come to none, and for one of us, the fiftieth was the first time. Some of us left Reno as soon as we could; some of us have come back; some have lived in Nevada's mountains and valleys all our lives. All of us were members of the first class to go through all three years of high school at Wooster, graduating in 1965.

Common Sense and a Little Fire traces the personal and public lives of four immigrant women activists who left a lasting imprint on American politics. Though they have rarely had more than cameo appearances in previous histories, Rose Schneiderman, Fannia Cohn, Clara Lemlich Shavelson, and Pauline Newman played important roles in the emergence of organized labor, the New Deal welfare state, adult education, and the modern women's movement. Orleck takes her four subjects from turbulent, turn-of-the-century Eastern Europe to the radical ferment of New York's Lower East Side and the gaslit tenements where young workers studied together. Drawing from the women's writings and speeches, she paints a compelling picture of housewives' food and rent protests, of grim conditions in the garment shops, of factory-floor friendships that laid the basis for a mass uprising of young women garment workers, and of the impassioned rallies working women organized for suffrage. From that era of rebellion, Orleck charts the rise of a distinctly working-class feminism that fueled poor women's activism and shaped government labor, tenant, and consumer policies through the early 1950s.

In his bestselling work of “comic sociology,” David Brooks coins a new word, Bobo, to describe today’s upper class—those who have wed the bourgeois world of capitalist enterprise to the hippie values of the bohemian counterculture. Their hybrid lifestyle is the atmosphere we breathe, and in this witty and serious look at the cultural consequences of the information age, Brooks has defined a new generation. Do you believe that spending $15,000 on a media center is vulgar, but that spending $15,000 on a slate shower stall is a sign that you are at one with the Zenlike rhythms of nature? Do you work for one of those visionary software companies where people come to work wearing hiking boots and glacier glasses, as if a wall of ice were about to come sliding through the parking lot? If so, you might be a Bobo.

Since the 1990s, a new cohort of Asian American writers has garnered critical and popular attention. Many of its members are the children of Asians who came to the United States after the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965 lifted long-standing restrictions on immigration. This new generation encompasses writers as diverse as the graphic novelists Adrian Tomine and Gene Luen Yang, the short story writer Nam Le, and the poet Cathy Park Hong. Having scrutinized more than one hundred works by emerging Asian American authors and having interviewed several of these writers, Min Hyoung Song argues that collectively, these works push against existing ways of thinking about race, even as they demonstrate how race can facilitate creativity. Some of the writers eschew their identification as ethnic writers, while others embrace it as a means of tackling the uncertainty that many people feel about the near future. In the literature that they create, a number of the writers that Song discusses take on pressing contemporary matters such as demographic change, environmental catastrophe, and the widespread sense that the United States is in national decline.