In a collective voice calling for peace tracing back to pre-World War II, Don't Call Us Girls follows the protests of women and their allies from the White House to the Arc de Triomphe, heralding their impact on today's world. Don’t Call Us Girls examines the importance of women’s participation in the Civil Rights Movement in the United States, and the international anti-war movement. This collective voice for peace, and an end to nuclear proliferation, reached back to before the Second World War and then firmly embedded itself during the war years when women assumed such important roles in the workplace that Franklin D. Roosevelt called them the ‘Arsenal of Democracy’. When the men returned from war, women were encouraged by forces as powerful as government agencies and eminent psychiatrists to return to their ‘place’ at home. And return home they did, only to realize that they could use the skills they practiced as housewives to begin organizing themselves into groups that would start a wave of protest action that swept through the late 1950s, gathering up the Civil Rights Movement as it hurtled ever forward through the next two decades. In the 1960s and 1970s, no institution or convention was sacred—many aspects of women’s lives were fair game for criticism, protest, and change. In this no-holds-barred era, women debated everything from international nuclear policies, pay equity and child care for women, to reproductive rights and sexual politics. They protested in the streets, outside the White House, in Trafalgar Square, at the Arc de Triomphe, on university campuses, and just about anywhere else they would be heard. They were tired of the role society had cast for them and they would not rest until they saw the substantial change that seemed promising with the emergence of Second Wave Feminism in the 1970s. While we still live in a patriarchal society, we have these women to thank for many of the freedoms we now enjoy. If they have taught us anything, it is never to stop pushing back against the patriarchy and to rest only when we are truly equal. The final chapter of Don’t Call Us Girls reminds us that there is still a lot of work to do.

While many Australian teenagers have dreamed of joining a travelling circus, Norma Brophy wanted to run away from it. As a born and bred 'show person', she adored her early years on the road, running wild in town after town with her fellow little 'showies'. But growing up backstage of a famed travelling show wasn't all fun and games. At 15, Norma fled the circus and her father's violent ways, only to be drawn back by another formidable force - love. In this vibrant, uproarious and poignant memoir, multi-talented showbiz matriarch Norma Brophy comes out of retirement to reveal a world of interest to many but understood by few. From a time before cars to the hardscrabble Depression years, in and out of war time and across the golden era of Hollywood-tinged showmanship, right up to today, Norma paints a vivid picture of Australian show culture. With authority and candour, Norma plays ringmaster to a cavalcade of characters and places that have helped form not only the story of her own record-breaking, death-defying family, but also that of countless other travelling show people, circus and rodeo folk whose exploits and ingenuity will leave you agog.

Finalist for the National Book Award for Poetry Winner of the Forward Prize for Best Collection “[Smith's] poems are enriched to the point of volatility, but they pay out, often, in sudden joy.”—The New Yorker Award-winning poet Danez Smith is a groundbreaking force, celebrated for deft lyrics, urgent subjects, and performative power. Don’t Call Us Dead opens with a heartrending sequence that imagines an afterlife for black men shot by police, a place where suspicion, violence, and grief are forgotten and replaced with the safety, love, and longevity they deserved here on earth. Smith turns then to desire, mortality—the dangers experienced in skin and body and blood—and a diagnosis of HIV positive. “Some of us are killed / in pieces,” Smith writes, “some of us all at once.” Don’t Call Us Dead is an astonishing and ambitious collection, one that confronts, praises, and rebukes America—“Dear White America”—where every day is too often a funeral and not often enough a miracle.

Veenad's seeking has helped motivate the Boda community to start a warrior/healer school. The influx of students brings on its own complications. There are groups that try to assassinate anyone who starts demonstrating warrior/healer abilities. There are also other groups that try to hold these students down to protect their positions. But just as the warrior/healer school starts to gain momentum a war reaches the region's southern border. The developing warrior/healers become crucial to protecting the region. In addition, there are all kinds of complexities since the characters of their allies are often greatly flawed. So while the warrior/healers and their allies are outnumbered, their emphases on developing abilities to fight and to heal are able to impact the outcome of the conflicts. But their impact is never as much as they would like.