2010 Choice Outstanding Academic Title Out of the hundreds of published slave narratives, only a handful exist specific to South Carolina, and most of these are not readily available to modern readers. This collection restores to print seven slave narratives documenting the lived realities of slavery as it existed across the Palmetto State's upcountry, midlands, and lowcountry, from plantation culture to urban servitude. First published between the late eighteenth century and the dawn of the twentieth, these richly detailed firsthand accounts present a representative cross section of slave experiences, from religious awakenings and artisan apprenticeships to sexual exploitations and harrowing escapes. In their distinctive individual voices, narrators celebrate and mourn the lives of fellow slaves, contemplate the meaning of freedom, and share insights into the social patterns and cultural controls exercised during a turbulent period in American history. Each narrative is preceded by an introduction to place its content and publication history in historical context. The volume also features an afterword surveying other significant slave narratives and related historical documents on South Carolina. I Belong to South Carolina reinserts a chorus of powerful voices of the dispossessed into South Carolina's public history, reminding us of the cruelties of the past and the need for vigilant guardianship of liberty in the present and future.I Belong to South Carolina is edited and introduced by Susanna Ashton with the assistance of Robyn E. Adams, Maximilien Blanton, Laura V. Bridges, E. Langston Culler, Cooper Leigh Hill, Deanna L. Panetta, and Kelly E. Riddle.

First impressions, thank goodness, really can't be trusted! When marine biologist Holly Leonard agrees to help Parker Brant write a book on giant sea turtles, she expects a charming and charismatic charter boat captain--not the strait-laced, all-business dud who greets her. For his part, Parker is surprised to find that Dr. Leonard is not the matronly grandmother he expected but a blue-eyed beauty who's lively, fun-- and a total klutz. Unfortunately, the harder Holly tries to shed her "Holly Folly" nickname, the clumsier she becomes. Holly's has breezed into Parker's well-ordered world like a hurricane--but will he welcome the disruption?

In a thriller that is a cross between To Kill a Mockingbird and Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, Brian Hicks takes us into the insular world of mid-20th century Charleston society, where one of the most unlikely civil rights heroes of all time has hatched a secret plan to change America...if someone doesn't kill him first.

Jacob Stroyer was born a slave on the Singleton plantation near Columbia, South Carolina in 1849 and lived there until the Emancipation Proclamation freed slaves in 1864. During the Civil War, he was sent to Sullivan's Island and Fort Sumter in Charleston, South Carolina, where he waited on Confederate officers. While there, Stroyer learned to read. Following his release from slavery, Jacob Stroyer settled in Salem, Massachusetts, and became minister of the African Methodist Episcopal Church there. This new and enlarged edition of Stroyer's narrative, My Life in the South, expands upon earlier editions, and was written with the hope of generating enough income to complete his education. The narrative covers his fifteen years in slavery providing information about his family, his life at his master's summer seat as well as the physical abuse he endured at the hands of the Singleton plantation's overseer. Stroyer also discusses the emotional strain that the slave trade put on his and other slave families and provides a series of brief anecdotes about slave life, culture, beliefs, and interactions with masters and slaves.

The story of misunderstood immigrants and their struggle to gain recognition and acceptance in the rural South Despite its reputation as a melting pot of ethnicities and races, the United States has a well-documented history of immigrants who have struggled through isolation, segregation, discrimination, oppression, and assimilation. South Carolina is home to one such group—known historically and derisively as "the Turks"—which can trace its oral history back to Joseph Benenhaley, an Ottoman refugee from Old World conflict. According to its traditional narrative, Benenhaley served with Gen. Thomas Sumter in the Revolutionary War. His dark-hued descendants lived insular lives in rural Sumter County for the next two centuries, and only in recent decades have they enjoyed the full blessings of the American experience. Early scholars ignored the Turkish tale and labeled these people "tri-racial isolates" and later writers disparaged them as "so-called Turks." But members of the group persisted in claiming Turkish descent and living reclusively for generations. Now, in South Carolina's Turkish People, Terri Ann Ognibene and Glen Browder confirm the group's traditional narrative through exhaustive original research and oral interviews. In search of definitive documentation, Browder combed through a long list of primary sources, including historical reports, public records, and private papers. He also devised new evidence, such as a reconstruction of Turkish lineage of the 1800s through genealogical analysis and genetic testing. Ognibene, a descendant of the state's Turkish population, conducted personal interviews with her relatives who had been in the community since the 1900s. They talked at length and passionately about their cultural identity, their struggle for equal rights, and the mixed benefits of assimilation. Ognibene's and Browder's findings are clear. South Carolina's Turkish people finally know and can celebrate their heritage.

Police power was built on women's bodies. Men, especially Black men, often stand in as the ultimate symbol of the mass incarceration crisis in the United States. Women are treated as marginal, if not overlooked altogether, in histories of the criminal legal system. In The Streets Belong to Us—a searing history of women and police in the modern United States—Anne Gray Fischer narrates how sexual policing fueled a dramatic expansion of police power. The enormous discretionary power that police officers wield to surveil, target, and arrest anyone they deem suspicious was tested, legitimized, and legalized through the policing of women's sexuality and their right to move freely through city streets. Throughout the twentieth century, police departments achieved a stunning consolidation of urban authority through the strategic discretionary enforcement of morals laws, including disorderly conduct, vagrancy, and other prostitution-related misdemeanors. Between Prohibition in the 1920s and the rise of "broken windows" policing in the 1980s, police targeted white and Black women in distinct but interconnected ways. These tactics reveal the centrality of racist and sexist myths to the justification and deployment of state power. Sexual policing did not just enhance police power. It also transformed cities from segregated sites of "urban vice" into the gentrified sites of Black displacement and banishment we live in today. By illuminating both the racial dimension of sexual liberalism and the gender dimension of policing in Black neighborhoods, The Streets Belong to Us illustrates the decisive role that race, gender, and sexuality played in the construction of urban police regimes.