"My mother used to weave aaydans, the Marathi generic term for all things made from bamboo. I find that her act of weaving and my act of writing are organically linked. The weave is similar. It is the weave of pain, suffering, and agony that links us." Activist and award-winning writer Urmila Pawar recounts three generations of Dalit women who struggled to overcome the burden of their caste. Dalits, or untouchables, make up India's poorest class. Forbidden from performing anything but the most undesirable and unsanitary duties, for years Dalits were believed to be racially inferior and polluted by nature and were therefore forced to live in isolated communities. Pawar grew up on the rugged Konkan coast, near Mumbai, where the Mahar Dalits were housed in the center of the village so the upper castes could summon them at any time. As Pawar writes, "the community grew up with a sense of perpetual insecurity, fearing that they could be attacked from all four sides in times of conflict. That is why there has always been a tendency in our people to shrink within ourselves like a tortoise and proceed at a snail's pace." Pawar eventually left Konkan for Mumbai, where she fought for Dalit rights and became a major figure in the Dalit literary movement. Though she writes in Marathi, she has found fame in all of India. In this frank and intimate memoir, Pawar not only shares her tireless effort to surmount hideous personal tragedy but also conveys the excitement of an awakening consciousness during a time of profound political and social change.

"A fascinating history of…[a craft] that preceded and made possible civilization itself." —New York Times Book Review New discoveries about the textile arts reveal women's unexpectedly influential role in ancient societies. Twenty thousand years ago, women were making and wearing the first clothing created from spun fibers. In fact, right up to the Industrial Revolution the fiber arts were an enormous economic force, belonging primarily to women. Despite the great toil required in making cloth and clothing, most books on ancient history and economics have no information on them. Much of this gap results from the extreme perishability of what women produced, but it seems clear that until now descriptions of prehistoric and early historic cultures have omitted virtually half the picture. Elizabeth Wayland Barber has drawn from data gathered by the most sophisticated new archaeological methods—methods she herself helped to fashion. In a "brilliantly original book" (Katha Pollitt, Washington Post Book World), she argues that women were a powerful economic force in the ancient world, with their own industry: fabric.

Navajo rugs set the gold standard for handwoven textiles in the U.S. But what about the people who create these treasures? Spider Woman's Children is the inside story, told by two women who are both deeply embedded in their own culture and considered among the very most skillful and artistic of Navajo weavers today. Barbara Teller Ornelas and Lynda Teller Pete are fifth-generation weavers who grew up at the fabled Two Grey Hills trading post. Their family and clan connections give them rare insight, as this volume takes readers into traditional hogans, remote trading posts, reservation housing neighborhoods, and urban apartments to meet weavers who follow the paths of their ancestors, who innovate with new designs and techniques, and who uphold time-honored standards of excellence. Throughout the text are beautifully depicted examples of the finest, most mindful weaving this rich tradition has to offer.

Patricia Cooney Hathaway concentrates on helping women understand the relationship between faith and human experience during the middle years within the context of the whole life cycle. She explores the wrenching and puzzling questions women in their middle years need to ask. With wisdom and a nurturing voice, Patricia Cooney Hathaway provides insights about how our Christian faith can help women grow in a personal relationship with God and how our falling in love with God can find practical expression in the way we choose to live.

"With the inborn wisdom that has guided them for so long through so many obstacles, Hopi men and women perpetuate their proven rituals, strongly encouraging those who attempt to neglect or disrespect their obligations to uphold them. One of these obligations is to respect the flora and fauna of our planet. The Hopi closeness to the Earth is represented in all the arts of all three mesas, whether in clay or natural fibers. What clay is to a potter's hands, natural fibers are to a basket weaver."--from the Introduction Rising dramatically from the desert floor, Arizona's windswept mesas have been home to the Hopis for hundreds of years. A people known for protecting their privacy, these Native Americans also have a long and less known tradition of weaving baskets and plaques. Generations of Hopi weavers have passed down knowledge of techniques and materials from the plant world around them, from mother to daughter, granddaughter, or niece. This book is filled with photographs and detailed descriptions of their beautiful baskets--the one art, above all others, that creates the strongest social bonds in Hopi life. In these pages, weavers open their lives to the outside world as a means of sharing an art form especially demanding of time and talent. The reader learns how plant materials are gathered in canyons and creek bottoms, close to home and far away. The long, painstaking process of preparation and dying is followed step by step. Then, using techniques of coiled, plaited, or wicker basketry, the weaving begins. Underlying the stories of baskets and their weavers is a rare glimpse of what is called "the Hopi Way," a life philosophy that has strengthened and sustained the Hopi people through centuries of change. Many other glimpses of the Hopi world are also shared by author and photographer Helga Teiwes, who was warmly invited into the homes of her collaborators. Their permission and the permission of the Cultural Preservation Office of the Hopi Tribe gave her access to people and information seldom available to outsiders. Teiwes was also granted access to some of the ceremonial observances where baskets are preeminent. Woven in brilliant reds, greens, and yellows as well as black and white, Hopi weavings, then, not only are an arresting art form but also are highly symbolic of what is most important in Hopi life. In the women's basket dance, for example, woven plaques commemorate and honor the Earth and the perpetuation of life. Other plaques play a role in the complicated web of Hopi social obligation and reciprocity. Living in a landscape of almost surreal form and color, Hopi weavers are carrying on one of the oldest arts traditions in the world. Their stories in Hopi Basket Weaving will appeal to collectors, artists and craftspeople, and anyone with an interest in Native American studies, especially Native American arts. For the traveler or general reader, the book is an invitation to enter a little-known world and to learn more about an art form steeped in meaning and stunning in its beauty.

Throughout the mid-1800s, outsiders, including many Euro-Americans, arrived in what is now northwest Washington. As they interacted with Samish, Lummi, S’Klallam, Sto:lo, and other groups, some of the men sought relationships with young local women. Hoping to establish mutually beneficial ties, Coast and Interior Salish families arranged strategic cross-cultural marriages. Some pairs became lifelong partners while other unions were short. These were crucial alliances that played a critical role in regional settlement and spared Puget Sound’s upper corner from the tragic conflicts other regions experienced. Accounts of the men, who often held public positions--army officer, Territorial Supreme Court justice, school superintendent, sheriff--exist in a variety of records. Some, like the nephew of Confederate President Jefferson Davis, were from prominent eastern families. Yet across the West, the contributions of their native wives remain unacknowledged. The women’s lives were marked by hardships and heartbreaks common for the time, but the four profiled--Caroline Davis Kavanaugh, Mary Fitzhugh Lear Phillips, Clara Tennant Selhameten, and Nellie Carr Lane--exhibited exceptional endurance, strength, and adaptability. Far from helpless victims, they influenced their husbands and controlled their homes. Remembered as loving mothers and good neighbors, they ran farms, nursed and supported family, served as midwives, and operated businesses. They visited relatives and attended ancestral gatherings, often with their children. Each woman’s story is uniquely hers, but together they and other intermarried women helped found Puget Sound communities and left lasting legacies. They were peace weavers. Author Candace Wellman hopes to shatter stereotypes surrounding these relationships. Numerous collaborators across the United States and Canada--descendants, local historians, academics, and more--graciously participated in her seventeen-year effort.