Toward the end of 1931, the black dust was settling in the Harlan County, Kentucky, coal fields after one of the most bitterly fought labor struggles in our nation's history. The miners were beaten, their rank-and-file organization crushed. The epithet "Bloody Harlan" survived the day and remained a symbol for that battle and those that periodically erupted for the next half century. But the proper legacy of the Harlan wars, as the veteran Hobart Grills tells us, is not the chaotic violence but the spirit of steady resistance that smolders until the changing times fan the sparks into a new flame. During the long Depression era, the winds of change blew all across the South — from the coal fields of Appalachia to the tenant farms of Arkansas, from the cotton mills of Gastonia to the automobile factories of Atlanta. It was a period rich in the South's peculiar blend of semi-organized rebellion, individual courage, and rank-and-file militancy; but its lessons were omitted from the history books. To rectify that insult, Southern Exposure published a special book-length issue on the Depression, based largely on the oral testimonies of those who were the sparks for that era's struggles. Entitled "No More Moanin'," the collection — now near the end of its second printing — has been a popular source book in union halls, university classrooms, and informal study groups.

The time has come, Lillian Smith wrote in 1962, for women to risk the "great and daring creative act" of discovering and articulating their own identity. Three years later, Southern women of a younger generation, fortified by the skills and self-respect earned in the black civil-rights movement, issued the first manifesto of a new feminism. Their words landed with explosive force, setting off cultural reverberations which have shaken the lives of men and women alike. A little more than a decade after that, this issue of Southern Exposure began to take form. Its creation has taken us back into history and deep into the meaning of our own lives. As we set out to understand the situation of Southern women, we found ourselves "in search of our mothers' gardens." We found ourselves naming an experience we share across the generations. "So many of the stories that I write," Alice Walker discovered, "are my mother's stories." To speak in our own voices, we had first to give expression to a "promise song" that has been there all along.