Establishing an imaginative space for blackness, four mid-century American writers resist literary segregation

First existence continents land mass necessitates suns radius planets beamn continents corona disc. Brush fires prevalence. Reservoirs travels land yet cultivated diversion via mouth of rivers. Im somewhat mentally dismantled faiths thousands not of ten planets divisor of a hundred. This faiths at creations life span. Its tiresome perspectives emerging attitude not being of such intellect. Identifying numbers at birth Earths begins of time, will penetrate planets amongst peers born at such time. What occurred eras in time preoccupied being perceived moreso intellect. Interest to deter interests self sufficiency poetry interest. Am I thus The Black Eve.

This national bestseller, now in paperback, reveals how all humans are descended from seven prehistoric women--the Seven Daughters of Eve.

"Babitz’s talent for the brilliant line, honed to a point, never interferes with her feel for languid pleasures." —The New York Times Book Review A new reissue of Babitz’s collection of nine stories that look back on the 1980s and early 1990s—decades of dreams, drink, and glimpses of a changing world. Black Swans further celebrates the phenomenon of Eve Babitz, cementing her reputation as the voice of a generation. With an introduction by Stephanie Danler, bestselling author of Sweetbitter. "On the page, Babitz is pure pleasure—a perpetual–motion machine of no–stakes elation and champagne fizz." —The New Yorker

There are many races on the surface of the earth today, there were probably more in the not so distant past as many races have become extinct in the due to wars, disease, natural disasters or some other forces. From where did all these races come to be? Please note that in this publication I am not going to be concerned with the origin of humans per se, whether he was created, evolved or fell from above, but rather with the physical nature, features, colour or the ethnicity of the first humans on this planet earth. What race were the first humans on the planet earth, the original race? Were they Caucasian, Negroid, Mongoloid, Capoid or Australoid? In other words were they white, black, yellow, brown or some other colour? If you have ever seen a photo of or a movie about Adam and Eve or Jesus Christ, in almost every one of those photos or movies, they are portrayed as white, Caucasian people. The images are so ubiquitous and so engraved into our common psyches that it is taken as a matter of fact that these figures were actually white, Caucasian people. To the extent that to even think otherwise or openly question it could be interpreted as either offensive, anti-Semitic or blasphemous by not a few people and in not a few places. However we should not shirk from searching for knowledge and sharing our findings afterwards just because somebody somewhere may not like it. In this publication I will try to give incontrovertible evidence from science, history and the Bible that will prove without any further doubt that the first humans on the planet earth were Negroid, black people. That, in other words Adam, Eve was black! And that, so also was Jesus Christ himself. So I invite you to keep an open mind and read on, think with me and possibly see for yourself!

Electric Arches is an imaginative exploration of black girlhood and womanhood through poetry, visual art, and narrative prose. Blending stark realism with the fantastical, Ewing takes us from the streets of Chicago to an alien arrival in an unspecified future, deftly navigating boundaries of space, time, and reality with delight and flexibility.

“Failing schools. Underprivileged schools. Just plain bad schools.” That’s how Eve L. Ewing opens Ghosts in the Schoolyard: describing Chicago Public Schools from the outside. The way politicians and pundits and parents of kids who attend other schools talk about them, with a mix of pity and contempt. But Ewing knows Chicago Public Schools from the inside: as a student, then a teacher, and now a scholar who studies them. And that perspective has shown her that public schools are not buildings full of failures—they’re an integral part of their neighborhoods, at the heart of their communities, storehouses of history and memory that bring people together. Never was that role more apparent than in 2013 when Mayor Rahm Emanuel announced an unprecedented wave of school closings. Pitched simultaneously as a solution to a budget problem, a response to declining enrollments, and a chance to purge bad schools that were dragging down the whole system, the plan was met with a roar of protest from parents, students, and teachers. But if these schools were so bad, why did people care so much about keeping them open, to the point that some would even go on a hunger strike? Ewing’s answer begins with a story of systemic racism, inequality, bad faith, and distrust that stretches deep into Chicago history. Rooting her exploration in the historic African American neighborhood of Bronzeville, Ewing reveals that this issue is about much more than just schools. Black communities see the closing of their schools—schools that are certainly less than perfect but that are theirs—as one more in a long line of racist policies. The fight to keep them open is yet another front in the ongoing struggle of black people in America to build successful lives and achieve true self-determination.