The most comprehensive and up-to-date guide to Texas historiography of the past quarter-century, this volume of original essays will be an invaluable resource and definitive reference for teachers, students, and researchers of Texas history. Conceived as a follow-up to the award-winning "A Guide to the History of Texas" (1988), "Discovering Texas History" focuses on the major trends in the study of Texas history since 1990.
In two sections, arranged topically and chronologically, some of the most prominent authors in the field survey the major works and most significant interpretations in the historical literature. Topical essays take up historical themes ranging from Native Americans, Mexican Americans, African Americans, and women in Texas to European immigrant history; literature, the visual arts, and music in the state; and urban and military history. Chronological essays cover the full span of Texas historiography from the Spanish era through the Civil War, to the Progressive Era and World Wars I and II, and finally to the early twenty-first century.
Critical commentary on particular books and articles is the unifying purpose of these contributions, whose authors focus on analyzing and summarizing the subjects that have captured the attention of professional historians in recent years. Together the essays gathered here will constitute the standard reference on Texas historiography for years to come, guiding readers and researchers to future, ever deeper discoveries in the history of Texas.

A microhistory of racial segregation in Cienfuegos, a central Cuban port city. Founded as a white colony in 1819, Cienfuegos quickly became home to people of African descent, both free and enslaved, and later a small community of Chinese and other immigrants. Despite the racial, ethnic, and cultural diversity defining the city's population, the urban landscape was characterized by distinctive racial boundaries, separating the white city center from the heterogeneous peripheries. A Cuban City, Segregated: Race and Urbanization in the Nineteenth Century explores how the de facto racial segregation was constructed and perpetuated in a society devoid of explicitly racial laws. Drawing on the insights of intersectional feminism, Bonnie A. Lucero shows that the key to understanding racial segregation in Cuba is recognizing the often unspoken ways specifically classed notions and practices of gender shaped the historical production of race and racial inequality. In the context of nineteenth-century Cienfuegos, gender, race, and class converged in the concept of urban order, a complex and historically contingent nexus of ideas about the appropriate and desired social hierarchy among urban residents, often embodied spatially in particular relationships to the urban landscape. As Cienfuegos evolved subtly over time, the internal logic of urban order was driven by the construction and defense of a legible, developed, aesthetically pleasing, and, most importantly, white city center. Local authorities produced policies that reduced access to the city center along class and gendered lines, for example, by imposing expensive building codes on centric lands, criminalizing poor peoples' leisure activities, regulating prostitution, and quashing organized labor. Although none of these policies mentioned race outright, this new scholarship demonstrates that the policies were instrumental in producing and perpetuating the geographic marginality and discursive erasure of people of color from the historic center of Cienfuegos during its first century of existence.

Pablo Abeita is the first biography of Pablo Abeita, a man considered the most important Native leader in the Southwest in his day. Abeita was a strong advocate for Isleta and the other eighteen New Mexico pueblos during the periods of assimilation, boarding schools, and the reform of US Indian policy. Working with some of the most progressive Indian agents in New Mexico, with other Pueblo leaders, and with advocacy groups, he received funding for much-needed projects, such as a bridge across the Rio Grande at Isleta. To achieve these ends, Abeita testified before Congress and was said to have met, and in some cases befriended, nearly every US president from Benjamin Harrison to Franklin D. Roosevelt. Abeita dealt with many issues that are still relevant today, including reform of US Indian policy, boarding schools, and Pueblo sovereignty. Pablo Abeita's story is one of a people still living on their ancestral homelands, struggling to protect their land and water, and ultimately thriving as a modern pueblo.

Heartsick and Astonished features twenty-seven divorce cases from mid-nineteenth century America. More than dry legal documents, these cases provide a captivating window into marital life—and strife—in the border South during the tumultuous years before, during, and after the Civil War. Allison Dorothy Fredette has brought these primary documents to light, revealing the inner thoughts, legal hardships, and day-to-day struggles of these average citizens. In Wheeling, West Virginia, the seat of Ohio County, courtrooms bore witness to men and women from various ethnic, racial, and class backgrounds who shared shockingly intimate details of their lives and relationships. Some tried desperately to defend their masculinity or femininity; others hoped to restore their reputations to the legal system and to their community. In an era of uncertainty—when the country was torn in two, when the Wheeling community became the capital of a new state, and when activists across the country began to push for women’s rights in the household and family—the divorce cases of ordinary couples reveal changing attitudes toward marriage, gender, and legal separation in a booming border city perched on the edge of the South.

Falklands Facts and Fallacies is a pioneer work and an essential contribution to an understanding of the history and legal status of the Falkland Islands. It presents abundant evidence from documents (some never printed before) in archives in Buenos Aires, La Plata, Montevideo, London, Cambridge, Stanley, Paris, Munich and Washington DC, and provides the facts to correct the fallacies and distortions in accounts by earlier authors. It reveals persuasive evidence that the Falklands were discovered by a Portuguese expedition at the latest around 1518-19, and not by Vespucci or Magellan. It demonstrates conclusively that the Anglo-Spanish agreement of 1771 did not contain a reservation of Spanish rights, that Britain did not make a secret promise to abandon the islands, and that the Nootka Sound Convention of 1790 did not restrict Britain's rights in the Falklands, but greatly extended them at the expense of Spain. For the first time ever, extracts from the despairing letters from the Falklands written in German in 1824 to Louis Vernet by his brother Emilio are printed here in translation, revealing the total chaos of the abortive 1824 Argentine expedition to the islands. This book reveals how tiny the Argentine settlement in the islands was in 1826-33. In April 1829 there were only 52 people, and there was a constant turnover of population; many people stayed only a few months, and the population reached its maximum of 128 only for a few weeks in mid-1831 before declining to 37 people at the beginning of 1833. This work also refutes the falsehood that Britain expelled an Argentine population from the Falklands in 1833. That myth has been Argentina's principal propaganda weapon since the 1960s in its attempts to undermine Falkland Islanders' right to self-determination. In fact Britain encouraged the residents to stay, and only a handful left the islands. A crucial document printed here is the 1850 Convention of Peace between Argentina and Britain. At Argentina's insistence, this was a comprehensive peace treaty which restored "perfect friendship" between the two countries. Critical exchanges between the Argentine and British negotiators are printed here for the first time, which show that Argentina dropped its claim to the Falklands and accepted that the islands are British. That, and the many later acts by Argentina described here, definitively ended any Argentine title to the islands. The legal status of the Falklands is analysed here by extensive reference to legal works, to United Nations resolutions on decolonisation, and to rulings by the International Court of Justice, which together demonstrate conclusively that the islands are British territory in international law and that the Falkland Islanders, who have now (2022) lived in their country for over 180 years and for nine generations, are a unique people who are holders of territorial sovereignty with the full right of external self-determination. This book completely refutes the argumentation presented by Professor Marcelo Kohen and Facundo Rodriguez in their work Las Malvinas entre el Derecho y la Historia, Buenos Aires2015 (and its English version: The Malvinas/Falklands Between History and Law), which repeats many of the untruths and distortions that have been presented for over half a century by Argentine authors - and by Argentine governments at the United Nations. This second edition has been thoroughly revised and updated; in cases of difference it supersedes the first edition published in March 2020.

Chinatown has a long history in Boston. Though little documented, it represents the city's most sustained neighborhood effort to survive during eras of hostility and urban transformation. It has been wounded and transformed, slowly ceding ground; at the same time, its residents and organizations have gained a more prominent voice over their community's fate.In writing about Boston Chinatown's long history, Michael Liu, a lifelong activist and scholar of the community, charts its journey and efforts for survival -- from its emergence during a time of immigration and deep xenophobia to the highway construction and urban renewal projects that threatened the neighborhood after World War II to its more recent efforts to keep commercial developers at bay. At the ground level, Liu depicts its people, organizations, internal battles, and varied and complex strategies against land-taking by outside institutions and public authorities. The documented courage, resilience, and ingenuity of this low-income immigrant neighborhood of color have earned it a place amongst our urban narratives. Chinatown has much to teach us about neighborhood agency, the power of organizing, and the prospects of such neighborhoods in rapidly growing and changing cities.

The South Carolina State House grounds are a work in progress a cultural landscape of human-built and natural components connected physically, conceptually, and aesthetically. As public property, the grounds should represent and welcome everyone in the state. While it is a beautiful space, it is not neutral. Over the past two centuries, various groups have jostled for political and cultural power, and the winners have used the grounds to assert their authority and broadcast political positions on the state's most visible stage. These struggles have resulted in a perpetually evolving space.In The South Carolina State House Grounds, the first comprehensive narrative of this important site at the heart of the Palmetto State, Lydia Mattice Brandt details the history of the state capitol and its setting including the national, state, and local histories enshrined in its monuments from 1787 to the present. Brandt argues that generations of private citizens and elected officials, who recognized the power of erecting public monuments and buildings that recall certain versions of history, have consciously shaped this highly charged, visible, and public place to assert authority over both the past and present. By recounting the intentions behind each element in the landscape, this guidebook considers how South Carolinians have used this place as a site of storytelling and mythmaking. The South Carolina State House Grounds, a chronological history of the state's grandest public space, includes more than sixty illustrations that track the site's transformation over more than two centuries. Brandt chronicles the events that occurred in and around its buildings, the stories of the people memorialized in the grounds' monuments, and the histories of the monuments themselves.

The admission of Missouri to the Union quickly became a constitutional crisis of the first order, inciting an intensive reexamination of the U.S. Constitution by the U.S. Congress. The heart of the question in need of resolution was whether that body possessed the authority to place conditions on a territory-in this instance Missouri-regarding restrictions on slavery-before its admittance to the Union. The larger question with which the legislators grappled were the limits of the Constitution's provisions granting Congress the authority to affect the institution of slavery-both where it already existed and where it could expand. The issue-what would come to be known as the Missouri Crisis-severely tested the still young republic and, some four decades later, would all but rend it asunder. This timely collection of original essays thoughtfully engages the intersections of history and constitutional law, and is certain to find eager readers among historians, legal scholars, political scientists, as well as many who call Missouri home.

Extinguishing a public health threat is difficult under any condition, let alone during a sweeping national revolution. In this first comprehensive study of tuberculosis in modern Cuba, Kelly Urban analyzes the medical, social, and governmental responses to the highly contagious disease as the island was heading into and emerging from the Revolution of 1959, providing a window onto broad questions of citizens' rights, biomedicine and public health, and political change. Drawing on a diverse range of sources revealing the perspectives of those at the center of power and those on the margins, Urban finds that the Cuban republican state intervened to confront the tuberculosis problem only after coming under intense grassroots pressure. Cuban citizens forged an activist political subculture around tuberculosis, however, rejecting discourses that blamed the sick for their own illness. This loose coalition of sanatorium patients, tenement dwellers, black public intellectuals, labor organizers, and reform-minded physicians won entitlements to state health care and pressed for other social rights that influenced health. Their critiques of the state's politicized and inefficient tuberculosis program contributed to the declining legitimacy of the Batista government, helping to spur the Revolution and an innovative restructuring of the public health system.

The Rocket Lab: Maurice Zucrow, Purdue University, and America's Race to Space focuses on the golden era of space exploration between 1946 and 1966, specifically the life and times of Purdue University's Dr. Maurice J. Zucrow, a pioneering teacher and researcher in aerospace engineering. Zucrow taught America's first university course in jet and rocket propulsion, wrote the field's first textbook, and established the country's first educational Rocket Lab. He was part of a small circle of innovators who transformed Purdue into the country's largest engineering university, which became a cradle of astronauts. Taking a chronological and thematic approach, The Rocket Lab weaves between the local and national, drawing in rival universities, especially Harvard, MIT, Princeton, and Caltech. Also covered is Zucrow's role in the national project system of research and development through World War II and the Cold War. At Aerojet, he was one of the country's original project engineers, dedicated to scientific-technical expertise and the stepwise approach. He made vanguard power plant contributions to the Northrop Flying Wing, as well as the Corporal, Nike, and Atlas missiles, among others. Zucrow's work in propulsion helped to improve the country's arsenal of ballistic missiles and space launchers, and as a teacher, he educated the first generation of aerospace engineers. This book elevates Zucrow and the central role he played in getting the United States to space.

As Southern California recovered from the collapse of the cattle industry in the 1860s, the arrival of railroads-attacked by newspapers as the greedy "octopus"-and the expansion of citrus agriculture transformed the struggling region into a vast, idealized, and prosperous garden. New groves of the latest citrus varieties and new towns like Riverside quickly grew directly along the tracks of transcontinental railroads. The influx of capital, industrial technology, and workers, especially people of color, energized Southern California and tied it more closely to the economy and culture of the United States than ever before.Benjamin Jenkins's Octopus's Garden argues that citrus agriculture and railroads together shaped the economy, landscape, labor systems, and popular image of Southern California. Orange and lemon growing boomed in the 1870s and 1880s while railroads linked the region to markets across North America and ended centuries of geographic isolation for the west coast. Railroads competed over the shipment of citrus fruits from multiple counties engulfed by the orange empire, resulting in an extensive rail network that generated lucrative returns for grove owners and railroad businessmen in Southern California from the 1890s to the 1950s. While investment from white Americans, particularly wealthy New Englanders, formed the financial backbone of the Octopus's Garden, citrus and railroads would not have thrived in Southern California without the labor of people of color. Many workers of color took advantage of the commercial developments offered by railroads and citrus to economically advance their families and communities. However, these people of color also suffered greatly under the constant realities of bodily harm, low wages, and political and social exclusion. Promoters of the railroads and citrus cooperatives touted California as paradise for white Americans and minimized the roles of non-white laborers by stereotyping them in advertisements and publications. These practices fostered conceptions of California's racial hierarchy by praising privileged whites and maligning the workers who made them prosper. The Octopus's Garden continues to shape Southern Californians' understanding of their past. In bringing together multiple storylines, Jenkins provides a complex and fresh perspective on the impact of citrus agriculturalists and railroad companies in Southern Californian history.

Compelling, moving and unexpected portraits of London's poor from a rising star British historian - the Dickensian city brought to real and vivid life. Until now, our view of bustling late Georgian and Victorian London has been filtered through its great chroniclers, who did not themselves come from poverty - Dickens, Mayhew, Gustave Dore. Their visions were dazzling in their way, censorious, often theatrical. Now, for the first time, this innovative social history brilliantly - and radically - shows us the city's most compelling period (1780-1870) at street level. From beggars and thieves to musicians and missionaries, porters and hawkers to sex workers and street criers, Jensen unites a breadth of original research and first-hand accounts and testimonies to tell their stories in their own words. What emerges is a buzzing, cosmopolitan world of the working classes, diverse in gender, ethnicity, origin, ability and occupation - a world that challenges and fascinates us still.

In Generations of Freedom Nik Ribianszky employs the lenses of gender and violence to examine family, community, and the tenacious struggles by which free blacks claimed and maintained their freedom under shifting international governance from Spanish colonial rule (1779-95), through American acquisition (1795) and eventual statehood (established in 1817), and finally to slavery's legal demise in 1865. Freedom was not necessarily a permanent condition, but one separated from racial slavery by a permeable and highly unstable boundary. This book explicates how the interlocking categories of race, class, and gender shaped Natchez, Mississippi's free community of color and how implicit and explicit violence carried down from one generation to another. To demonstrate this, Ribianszky introduces the concept of generational freedom. Inspired by the work of Ira Berlin, who focused on the complex process through which free Africans and their descendants came to experience enslavement, generational freedom is an analytical tool that employs this same idea in reverse to trace how various generations of free people of color embraced, navigated, and protected their tenuous freedom. This approach allows for the identification of a foundational generation of free people of color, those who were born into slavery but later freed. The generations that followed, the conditional generations, were those who were born free and without the experience of and socialization into North America's system of chattel, racial slavery. Notwithstanding one's status at birth as legally free or unfree, though, each individual's continued freedom was based on compliance with a demanding and often unfair system. Generations of Freedom tells the stories of people who collectively inhabited an uncertain world of qualified freedom. Taken together-by exploring the themes of movement, gendered violence, and threats to their property and, indeed, their very bodies-these accounts argue that free blacks were active in shaping their own freedom and that of generations thereafter. Their successful navigation of the shifting ground of freedom was dependent on their utilization of all available tools at their disposal: securing reliable and influential allies, maintaining their independence, and using the legal system to protect their property-including that most precious, themselves.

Leon Marc gives the reader the big picture of Eastern Europe - its political, economic, social and cultural history, the nature of changes there and of the issues at stake in the political and economic transition - while putting the fall of the Berlin Wall and the EU enlargement into a broader perspective of general European history. Three key strands of Eastern Europe - Central Europe, Eastern Europe proper and Southeast Europe - are identified and the Germanic, Byzantine and Ottoman influences on the region are examined. Illiberal Europe? is written in an accessible, non-academic way, addressing the stereotypes about the region and their roots and explaining why the notion of Eastern Europe is now obsolete and misleading. It gives an Eastern European's perspective, and is informed by the author's own personal experience of the changes that brought the Wall down. This updated and expanded edition contains a brand new chapter bringing this book up to date with recent events, including Covid-19 and the Ukrainian conflict.

The introduction of medicare in Saskatchewan marks a dividing point in the history of the province and Canada. Before 1962, access to medical care was predicated on ability to pay and private health insurance. After 1962, access to needed medical care became a right in Saskatchewan, later extended to the rest of Canada. The battle to establish medicare was hard fought and in the front lines were community clinics, non-profit, consumer-controlled health co-operatives offering interdisciplinary primary care. Stan Rands was one of the key individuals who established and managed community clinics in Saskatchewan.
Here is his story of how the medicare battle was fought by those who not only wanted to eliminate money as a barrier to care but also wanted to change the way health care was delivered. This is the inside story of a more radical vision of medicare, one that has still not been achieved in Canada.

Since the defeat of the pro-sovereigntists in the 1995 Quebec referendum, the loss of a cohesive nationalistic vision in the province has led many Quebecois to use their ancestral origins to inject meaning into their everyday lives. A Cinema of Pain argues that this phenomenon is observable in a pervasive sense of nostalgia in Quebec culture and is especially present in the province's vibrant but deeply wistful cinema. In Quebecois cinema, nostalgia not only denotes a sentimental longing for the bucolic pleasures of bygone French-Canadian traditions, but, as this edited collection suggests, it evokes the etymological sense of the term, which underscores the element of pain (algos) associated with the longing for a return home (nostos).Whether it is in grandiloquent historical melodramas such as Seraphin: un homme et son peche (Biname 2002), intimate realist dramas like Tout ce que tu possedes (Emond 2012), charming art films like C.R.A.Z.Y. (Vallee 2005), or even gory horror movies like Sur le Seuil (Tessier 2003), the contemporary Quebecois screen projects an image of shared suffering that unites the nation through a melancholy search for home.

The League of the Iroquois, the most famous native government in North America, dominated intertribal diplomacy in the Northeast and influenced the course of American colonial history for nearly two centuries. The age and early development of the League, however, have long been in dispute. In this highly original book, two anthropological archaeologists with differing approaches and distinct regional interests synthesize their research to explore the underpinnings of the confederacy. Wonderley and Sempowski endeavor to address such issues as when tribes coalesced, when intertribal alliances presaging the League were forged, when the five-nation confederation came to fruition, and what light oral tradition may shine on these developments. This groundbreaking work develops a new conversation in the field of Indigenous studies, one that deepens our understanding of the Iroquois League's origins.

Before Queen Anne's reign had even begun, rival factions in both Church and State were jostling for position in her court. Attempting to follow a moderate course, the new monarch and her advisors had to be constantly wary of the attempts of extremists on both sides to gain the upper hand. The result was a see-saw period of alternating influence that has fascinated historians and political commentators. In this engaging new study, Barry Levis shows that although both parties claimed to be in support of the Church, their real aim was advancing their respective political positions. Uniting close analysis of Queen Anne's changing policies towards dissenters, occasional conformity and church appointments with studies of the careers of several prominent churchmen and politicians, Levis paints a gripping picture of competing religious values and political ambitions. Most significantly, he shows that, far from being restricted to the church and political elites, these conflicts were to have a cascading influence on the division of the country long after the Queen's reign ended.

In "Storm of the Century: The Regina Tornado of 1912," author Sandra Bingaman recounts one of the worst natural disasters in Canadian history--the rare F4 tornado that obliterated a broad swatch of Regina, Saskatchewan 100 years ago. With wind speeds up to 400 kilometres per hour, the death dance of the Great Regina Cyclone changed lives, and the city, forever. It remains the worst tornado in the nation to date, both in terms of lives lost and property damanged. Skillfully mixing riveting narrative with dozens of compelling, historical photographs, Bingaman brings this tragic event back to life.
Many fictionalized accounts of the tornado exist but this is the first complete account of the devastation and loss. An important addition to Regina's recorded history and published to coincide with the 100th anniversary of the storm, "Storm of the Century" will serve as an important testament to the heroic rebuilding of our city.

New Orleans is a city that is rich in culture, music, and history. It has also long been a site of some of the most intense racially based medical inequities in the United States. Kevin McQueeney traces that inequity from the city's founding in the early eighteenth century through three centuries to the present. He argues that racist health disparities emerged as a key component of the city's slave-based economy and quickly became institutionalized with the end of Reconstruction and the rise of Jim Crow. McQueeney also shows that, despite legislation and court victories in the civil rights era, a segregated health care system still exists today. In addition to charting this history of neglect, McQueeney also suggests pathways to fix the deeply entrenched inequities, taking inspiration from the "long civil rights" framework and reconstructing the fight for improved health and access to care that started long before the boycotts, sit-ins, and marches of the 1950s and 1960s. In telling the history of how New Orleans has treated its Black citizens in its hospitals, McQueeney uncovers the broader story of how urban centers across the country have ignored Black Americans and their health needs for the entire history of the nation.

The Spanish word cimarron, meaning "wild" or "untamed," refers to a region in the southern Rocky Mountains where control of timber, gold, coal, and grazing lands long bred violent struggle. After the U.S. occupation following the 1846-1848 war with Mexico, this tract of nearly two million acres came to be known as the Maxwell Land Grant. WhenCimarron Meant Wild presents a new history of the collision that occurred over the region's resources between 1870 and 1900. Author David L. Caffey describes the epic late-nineteenth-century range war in an account deeply informed by his historical perspective on social, political, and cultural issues that beset the American West to this day. Cimarron country churned with the tensions of the Old West-land disputes, lawlessness, violence, and class war among miners, a foreign corporation, local elites, Texas cattlemen, and the haughty "Santa Fe Ring" of lawyerly speculators. And present, still, were the indigenous Jicarilla Apache and Mouache Ute people, dispossessed of their homeland by successive Spanish, Mexican, and American regimes. A Mexican grant of uncertain size and bounds, awarded to Carlos Beaubien and Guadalupe Miranda in 1841 and later acquired by Lucien Maxwell, marked the beginning of a fight for control of the land and set off overlapping conflicts known as the Colfax County War, the Maxwell Land Grant War, and the Stonewall War. Caffey draws on new research to paint a complex picture of these events, and of those that followed the sale of the claim to investors in 1870. These clashes played out over the following thirty years, involving the new English owners, miners and prospectors, livestock grazers and farmers, and Native Americans. Just how wild was the Cimarron country in the late 1800s? And what were the consequences for the region and for those caught up in the conflict? The answers, pursued through this remarkable work, enhance our understanding of cultural and economic struggle in the American West.

Liz Skilton's innovative study tracks the naming of hurricanes over six decades, exploring the interplay between naming practice and wider American culture. In 1953, the U.S. Weather Bureau adopted female names to identify hurricanes and other tropical storms. Within two years, that convention came into question, and by 1978 a new system was introduced, including alternating male and female names in a pattern that continues today. In Tempest: Hurricane Naming and American Culture, Skilton blends gender studies with environmental history to analyze this often controversial tradition. Focusing on the Gulf South-the nation's "hurricane coast"-Skilton closely examines select storms, including Betsy, Camille, Andrew, Katrina, and Harvey, while referencing dozens of others. Through print and online media sources, government reports, scientific data, and ephemera, she reveals how language and images portray hurricanes as gendered objects: masculine-named storms are generally characterized as stronger and more serious, while feminine-named storms are described as "unladylike" and in need of taming. Further, Skilton shows how the hypersexualized rhetoric surrounding Katrina and Sandy and the effeminate depictions of Georges represent evolving methods to define and explain extreme weather events. As she chronicles the evolution of gendered storm naming in the United States, Skilton delves into many other aspects of hurricane history. She describes attempts at scientific control of storms through hurricane seeding during the Cold War arms race of the 1950s and relates how Roxcy Bolton, a member of the National Organization for Women, led the crusade against feminizing hurricanes from her home in Miami near the National Hurricane Center in the 1970s. Skilton also discusses the skyrocketing interest in extreme weather events that accompanied the introduction of 24-hour news coverage of storms, as well as the impact of social media networks on Americans' tracking and understanding of hurricanes and other disasters. The debate over hurricane naming continues, as Skilton demonstrates, and many Americans question the merit and purpose of the gendered naming system. What is clear is that hurricane names matter, and that they fundamentally shape our impressions of storms, for good and bad.

Blackdom, New Mexico, was a township that lasted about thirty years. In this book, Timothy E. Nelson situates the township’s story where it belongs: along the continuum of settlement in Mexico’s Northern Frontier. Dr. Nelson illuminates the set of conscious efforts that helped Black pioneers develop Blackdom Township into a frontier boomtown “Blackdom” started as an inherited idea of a nineteenth-century Afrotopia. The idea of creating a Blackdom was refined within Black institutions as part of the perpetual movement of Black Colonization. In 1903, thirteen Black men, encouraged by the 1896 Plessy decision, formed the Blackdom Townsite Company and set out to make Blackdom a real place in New Mexico, where they were outside the reach of Jim Crow laws Many believed that Blackdom was simply abandoned. However, new evidence shows that the scheme to build generational wealth continued to exist throughout the twentieth century in other forms. During Blackdom’s boomtimes, in December 1919, Blackdom Oil Company shifted town business from a regenerative agricultural community to a more extractive model. Nelson has uncovered new primary source materials that suggest for Blackdom a newly discovered third decade. This story has never been fully told or contextualized until now. Reoriented to Mexico’s “northern frontier,” one observes Black ministers, Black military personnel, and Black freemasons who colonized as part of the transmogrification of Indigenous spaces into the American West. Nelson’s concept of the Afro-Frontier evokes a “Turnerian West,” but it is also fruitfully understood as a Weberian “Borderland.” Its history highlights a brief period and space that nurtured Black cowboy culture. While Blackdom’s civic presence was not lengthy, its significance—and that of the Afro-Frontier—is an important window in the history of Afrotopias, Black Consciousness, and the notion of an American West.