Jesse Jackson once said of Martin Luther King, Jr., "Thinking about him is like thinking about the prism, the sun shining through a glass from as many angles as you look. You know there is another set of rays, and as many angles as you think about Dr. King, there is yet another set of angles with which to analyze him." Author and depth psychologist Jennifer Leigh Selig approaches King from the angle of a cultural therapist, a radical conceit that extends therapy beyond the bounded container of the consulting room and into the cultural milieu, and beyond the narrow purview of the licensed few and into the hands of the committed many. During the Civil Rights Movement, Selig illustrates how King put America on the couch, talked with her about her issues, challenged her to see her psychological dis-ease, and marched with her along the path of healing, toward her own integration. And just as common wisdom says that therapists can only take clients as far toward wholeness as they have traveled themselves, it is illuminating to look at King's psychological health for hints about why he was able to succeed, and where he might have failed, to heal his "client," the soul of America. Drawing upon the mythic roles that possessed King-the deliverer, the prophet, and the martyr-savior-and the mythic goal that obsessed him-the creation of the beloved community-this book is a fascinating and ground-breaking exploration of the psyche and mythos of one man and his country struggling toward integration.

As a teacher who has attended several dozen graduations, as an adult who can remember having been there myself, with all the attendant confusion and mixed emotions, I often wish there was something we could give to our graduates beyond just a diploma. A diploma, after all, speaks only to the past: "This is what your life has been about-this is what you have achieved. Done. Finished." But it is not by accident that the word commencement is synonymous with graduation: commencement means a new start or beginning, implying the future rather than the past. So it seems to me that we are partially derelict in our duty to our graduates in handing them words on a diploma that only testify to what they did in the past at this ceremony-to truly mark commencement, we should also hand them words about what they can do in the future. Toni Morrison once wrote, "If there is a book you really want to read but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it." Here is that book-the words I wished I had been handed when graduated, the words I wish I could hand to my students when they graduate, the words I wish we could hand to all of our students when they graduate.

As a teacher who has attended several dozen graduations, as an adult who can remember having been there myself, with all the attendant confusion and mixed emotions, I often wish there was something we could give to our graduates beyond just a diploma. A diploma, after all, speaks only to the past: "This is what your life has been about-this is what you have achieved. Done. Finished." But it is not by accident that the word commencement is synonymous with graduation: commencement means a new start or beginning, implying the future rather than the past. So it seems to me that we are partially derelict in our duty to our graduates in handing them words on a diploma that only testify to what they did in the past at this ceremony-to truly mark commencement, we should also hand them words about what they can do in the future. Toni Morrison once wrote, "If there is a book you really want to read but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it." Here is that book-the words I wished I had been handed when graduated, the words I wish I could hand to my students when they graduate, the words I wish we could hand to all of our students when they graduate.

A contribution to the growing cannon of literature on the Occupy Movement, this collection of essays engages Jungian, archetypal, and depth psychological ways of understanding how Occupy is living in the collective imagination, or, how psyche is occupying collectives through the movement. The tension between the 99% and the 1% is amplified by some authors through images of the Villain and the Hero, Positive/Negative Father Complex, the body-head split, and notions of ensouled action versus degrees of soulessness. Other authors indwell the between spaces with storytelling, embodied imagining into the fractured skull of Scott Olsen, and questions of how to situate movement and its edges. Working alchemical stones of hope, this book is a dynamic conversation into the unconscious complexes of Occupy that remembers to cast a critical eye on the potential failings of its own epistemological structures.