Hidden Out in the Open is the first English-language volume on Spanish migration to the United States in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. This panoramic study covers a period defined by the crucial transformations of the Progressive Era in the United States, and by similarly momentous changes in Spain following the Restoration of the Bourbon monarchy under Alfonso XII. The chapters in this volume are geographically wide-ranging, reflecting the transnational nature of the Spanish diaspora in the Americas, encompassing networks that connected Spain, Cuba, Latin American countries, the United States, and American-controlled territories in Hawai’i and Panama. The geographic diversity reveals the different jobs immigrants engaged in, from construction gangs in the Panama Canal to mining crews in Arizona and West Virginia. Contributors analyze the Spanish experience in the United States from a variety of perspectives, discussing rural and urban enclaves, the role of the state, and the political mobilization of migrants, using a range of methodological approaches that examine ethnicity, race, gender, and cultural practices through the lenses of sociology, history, and cultural studies. The mention of the Spanish influence in the United States often conjures up images of conquistadores and padres of old. Forgotten in this account are the Spanish immigrants who reached American shores in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Hidden Out in the Open reveals the role of the modern migration of Spaniards in this "land of immigrants" and rectifies the erasure of Spain in the American narrative. The book will be of interest to scholars and students of US history and the history of modern Spain and Europe, as well as those interested ethnic and migration/diaspora studies, Hispanic/Latino studies, and the study of working class and radicalism. Contributors: Brian D. Bunk, Christopher J. Castañeda, Thomas Hidalgo, Beverly Lozano, Phylis Cancilla Martinelli, Gary R. Mormino, George E. Pozzetta†, Ana Varela-Lago.

By the spring of 1969, Students for a Democratic Society (SDS) had reached its zenith as the largest, most radical movement of white youth in American history—a genuine New Left. Yet less than a year later, SDS splintered into warring factions and ceased to exist. SDS's development and its dissolution grew directly out of the organization's relations with the black freedom movement, the movement against the Vietnam War, and the newly emerging struggle for women's liberation. For a moment, young white people could comprehend their world in new and revolutionary ways. But New Leftists did not respond as a tabula rasa. On the contrary, these young people's consciousnesses, their culture, their identities had arisen out of a history which, for hundreds of years, had privileged white over black, men over women, and America over the rest of the world. Such a history could not help but distort the vision and practice of these activists, good intentions notwithstanding. A Hard Rain Fell: SDS and Why It Failed traces these activists in their relation to other movements and demonstrates that the New Left's dissolution flowed directly from SDS's failure to break with traditional American notions of race, sex, and empire.

A collection of original essays based on oral history and archival research, this volume illuminates diverse aspects of southern workers' experience in the modern era. Included here are essays on agricultural workers, teachers, and fire fighters, as well as pieces on air transport, paper manufacturing, and aircraft production. Other topics include workers' organizations that fall outside the traditional labor movement and the role of cotton textile workers in the recent history of southern labor relations. Themes involving race, the varieties of union representation, and labor's impact on southern politics are especially prominent throughout this collection.

Race was all over the immigrant newspaper week after week. As early as the 1890s the papers of the largest Slovak fraternal societies covered lynchings in the South. While somewhat sympathetic, these articles nevertheless enabled immigrants to distance themselves from the "blackness" of victims, and became part of a strategy of asserting newcomers' tentative claims to "whiteness." Southern and eastern European immigrants began to think of themselves as white people. They asserted their place in the U.S. and demanded the right to be regarded as "Caucasians," with all the privileges that accompanied this designation. Circa 1900 eastern Europeans were slightingly dismissed as "Asiatic" or "African," but there has been insufficient attention paid to the ways immigrants themselves began the process of race tutoring through their own institutions. Immigrant newspapers offered a stunning array of lynching accounts, poems and cartoons mocking blacks, and paeans to America's imperial adventures in the Caribbean and Asia. Immigrants themselves had a far greater role to play in their own racial identity formation than has so far been acknowledged.

*Shortlisted for the BBC Radio 4 Thinking Allowed Award for Ethnography 2017* *Winner of the 2016 Labor History Best Book prize* Over a million people in the UK work in call centres, and the phrase has become synonymous with low-paid and high stress work, dictatorial supervisors and an enforced dearth of union organisation. However, rarely does the public have access to the true picture of what goes on in these institutions. For Working the Phones, Jamie Woodcock worked undercover in a call centre to gather insights into the everyday experiences of call centre workers. He shows how this work has become emblematic of the shift towards a post-industrial service economy, and all the issues that this produces, such as the destruction of a unionised work force, isolation and alienation, loss of agency and, ominously, the proliferation of surveillance and control which affects mental and physical well being of the workers. By applying a sophisticated, radical analysis to a thoroughly international 21st century phenomenon, Working the Phones presents a window onto the methods of resistance that are developing on our office floors, and considers whether there is any hope left for the modern worker today.

The War in American Culture explores the role of World War II in the transformation of American social, cultural, and political life. World War II posed a crisis for American culture: to defeat the enemy, Americans had to unite across the class, racial and ethnic boundaries that had long divided them. Exploring government censorship of war photography, the revision of immigration laws, Hollywood moviemaking, swing music, and popular magazines, these essays reveal the creation of a new national identity that was pluralistic, but also controlled and sanitized. Concentrating on the home front and the impact of the war on the lives of ordinary Americans, the contributors give us a rich portrayal of family life, sexuality, cultural images, and working-class life in addition to detailed consideration of African Americans, Latinos, and women who lived through the unsettling and rapidly altered circumstances of wartime America.

Radical Mindfulness examines the root causes of injustice, asking why inequalities along the lines of race, class, gender, and species continue to exist. Specifically, James K. Rowe examines fear of death as a root cause of systemic inequalities and proposes a more embodied approach to social change as a solution. Collecting insights from powerful thinkers across multiple traditions—including Black radicals, Indigenous resurgence theorists, terror management theorists, and Buddhist feminists— Rowe argues for the political importance of seemingly apolitical practices such as meditation and ritual. On their own, these strategies are not enough, but integrated into social movements that are combating structural injustices, mind–body practices can begin transforming the embodied fears that feed endless fuel to supremacist ideologies and yet are not targeted by most political actors. Radical Mindfulness is for academics, activists, and individuals who want to overcome supremacy of all kinds but are struggling to understand and develop methods for attacking it at the roots.

Ever since 1968 a single iconic image of race in American sport has remained indelibly etched on our collective memory: sprinters Tommie Smith and John Carlos accepting medals at the Mexico City Olympics with their black-gloved fists raised and heads bowed. But what inspired their protest? What happened after they stepped down from the podium? And how did their gesture impact racial inequalities? Drawing on extensive archival research and newly gathered oral histories, Douglas Hartmann sets out to answer these questions, reconsidering this pivotal event in the history of American sport. He places Smith and Carlos within the broader context of the civil rights movement and the controversial revolt of the black athlete. Although the movement drew widespread criticism, it also led to fundamental reforms in the organizational structure of American amateur athletics. Moving from historical narrative to cultural analysis, Hartmann explores what we can learn about the complex relations between race and sport in contemporary America from this episode and its aftermath.

Out of the “lemons” handed to Mexican American workers in Corona, California--low pay, segregated schooling, inadequate housing, and racial discrimination--Mexican men and women made “lemonade” by transforming leisure spaces such as baseball games, parades, festivals, and churches into politicized spaces where workers voiced their grievances, debated strategies for advancement, and built solidarity. Using oral history interviews, extensive citrus company records, and his own experiences in Corona, José Alamillo argues that Mexican Americans helped lay the groundwork for civil rights struggles and electoral campaigns in the post-World War II era.

Captive Nation: Black Prison Organizing in the Civil Rights Era