Bringing the rich terrain of Arab American histories to bear on conceptualizations of race in the United States, this groundbreaking volume fills a critical gap in the field of U.S. racial and ethnic studies. The articles collected here highlight emergent discourses on the distinct ways that race matters to the study of Arab American histories and experiences and asks essential questions. What is the relationship between U.S. imperialism in Arab homelands and anti-Arab racism in the United States? In what ways have the axes of nation, religion, class, and gender intersected with Arab American racial formations? What is the significance of whiteness studies to Arab American studies? Transcending multiculturalist discourses that have simply added on the category “Arab-American” to the landscape of U.S. racial and ethnic studies after the attacks of September 11, 2001, this volume locates September 11 as a turning point, rather than as a beginning, in Arab Americans’

Surveying the university’s chronological history, with special focus on how Syracuse led the way in numerous important matters—gender, race, military veterans, and science—Forever Orange goes far beyond the parameters of a traditional institutional history. Authors Pitoniak and Burton have utilized exhaustive research, scores of interviews, and their own SU experiences to craft a book that explores what it has meant to be Orange since the school ’s founding as a small liberal arts college in 1870. Through narrative and hundreds of photos, Forever Orange presents SU’s glorious 150-year history in a lively, distinctive, informative manner, appealing to alumni and university friends, young and old.

Authoritarianism has emerged as a prominent theme in popular and academic discussions of politics since the 2016 US presidential election and the coinciding expansion of authoritarian rhetoric and ideals across Europe, Asia, and beyond. Until recently, however, academic geographers have not focused squarely on the concept of authoritarianism. Its longstanding absence from the field is noteworthy as geographers have made extensive contributions to theorizing structural inequalities, injustice, and other expressions of oppressive or illiberal power relations and their diverse spatialities. Identifying this void, Spatializing Authoritarianism builds upon recent research to show that even when conceptualized as a set of practices rather than as a simple territorial label, authoritarianism has a spatiality: both drawing from and producing political space and scale in many often surprising ways. This volume advances the argument that authoritarianism must be investigated by accounting for the many scales at which it is produced, enacted, and imagined. Including a diverse array of theoretical perspectives and empirical cases drawn from the Global South and North, this collection illustrates the analytical power of attending to authoritarianism’s diverse scalar and spatial expressions, and how intimately connected it is with identity narratives, built landscapes, borders, legal systems, markets, and other territorial and extraterritorial expressions of power.

"Using methodologies derived from cultural studies, new historicism, and the history of ideas, Amy S. Wyngaard argues that changing ideas of individual, class, and national identity in the eighteenth century were elaborated around portrayals of the peasant."--BOOK JACKET.

Faith holds up a photo of the boarded-up, vacant house: "It’s the first thing I see. And I just call it ‘the Homeless House’ ‘cause it’s the house that nobody fixes up." Faith is one of fourteen women living on Syracuse’s Southside, a predominantly African-American and low-income area, who took photographs of their environment and displayed their images to facilitate dialogues about how they viewed their community. A Place We Call Home chronicles this photography project and bears witness not only to the environmental injustice experienced by these women but also to the ways in which they maintain dignity and restore order in a community where they have traditionally had little control. To understand the present plight of these women, one must understand the historical and political context in which certain urban neighborhoods were formed: Black migration, urban renewal, white flight, capital expansion, and then bust. Ducre demonstrates how such political and economic forces created a landscape of abandoned housing within the Southside community. She spotlights the impact of this blight upon the female residents who survive in this crucible of neglect. A Place We Call Home is the first case study of the intersection of Black feminism and environmental justice, and it is also the first book-length presentation using Photovoice methodology, an innovative research and empowerment strategy that assesses community needs by utilizing photographic images taken by individuals. The individuals have historically lacked power and status in formal planning processes. Through a cogent combination of words and images, this book illuminates how these women manage their daily survival in degraded environments, the tools that they deploy to do so, and how they act as agents of change to transform their communities.

Leveling the Playing Field tells the story of the African American members of the 1969–70 Syracuse University football team who petitioned for racial equality on their team. The petition had four demands: access to the same academic tutoring made available to their white teammates; better medical care for all team members; starting assignments based on merit rather than race; and a discernible effort to racially integrate the coaching staff, which had been all white since 1898. The players’ charges of racial disparity were fiercely contested by many of the white players on the team, and the debate spilled into the newspapers and drew protests from around the country. Mistakenly called the "Syracuse 8" by media reports in the 1970s, the nine players who signed the petition did not receive a response allowing or even acknowledging their demands. They boycotted the spring 1970 practice, and Coach Ben Schwartzwalder, a deeply beloved figure on campus and a Hall of Fame football coach nearing retirement, banned seven of the players from the team. As tensions escalated, white players staged a day-long walkout in support of the coaching staff, and an enhanced police presence was required at home games. Extensive interviews with each player offer a firsthand account of their decision to stand their ground while knowing it would jeopardize their professional football career. They discuss with candor the ways in which the boycott profoundly changed the course of their lives. In Leveling the Playing Field, Marc chronicles this contentious moment in Syracuse University’s history and tells the story through the eyes of the players who demanded change for themselves and for those who would follow them.

A list of legends is significant not only for who makes the list, but who gets left off of it. If there are no obvious omissions, then the list of candidates was probably less than legendary in the first place. Not so in the case of the Syracuse University Orangemen. Calling roll on Syracuse’s all-time basketball greats can take up the greater part of a day. The school produced its first All-American, Lewis Castle, in 1912. More recently, Carmelo Anthony, one of the best freshmen to ever play college basketball, led the 2003 Orangemen to the school’s first NCAA championship. In between there were legends such as the incomparable Dave Bing, Roosevelt Bouie, and Louis Orr, who together formed the Louie and Bouie Show, along with names like Derrick Coleman, Sherman Douglas, Lawrence Moten, and John Wallace. Legends of Syracuse Basketball, now newly revised, features twenty-four players, one coach, and one special team. Of the players mentioned, seventeen played in the NBA. Within the book’s pages are stories straight from the legends’ teammates, their coaches, and the legends themselves.