In 1919, against a backdrop of a long history of anti-Asian nativism, a handful of Japanese families established Cortez Colony in a bleak pocket of the San Joachin Valley. Valerie Matsumoto chronicles conflicts within the community as well as obstacles from without as the colonists responded to the challenges of settlement, the setbacks of the Great Depression, the hardships of World War II internment, and the opportunities of postwar reconstruction. Tracing the evolution of gender and family roles of members of Cortez as well as their cultural, religious, and educational institutions, she documents the persistence and flexibility of ethnic community and demonstrates its range of meaning from geographic location and web of social relations to state of mind.

In 1919, against a backdrop of a long history of anti-Asian nativism, a handful of Japanese families established Cortez Colony in a bleak pocket of the San Joachin Valley. Valerie Matsumoto chronicles conflicts within the community as well as obstacles from without as the colonists responded to the challenges of settlement, the setbacks of the Great Depression, the hardships of World War II internment, and the opportunities of postwar reconstruction. Tracing the evolution of gender and family roles of members of Cortez as well as their cultural, religious, and educational institutions, she documents the persistence and flexibility of ethnic community and demonstrates its range of meaning from geographic location and web of social relations to state of mind.

" Kentucky Home Place tells of eight generations of the fictitious Boyd Family, whose story begins in 1799 with a Western Kentucky land claim and continues through the present. The Boyds work hard to keep the family farm, facing their daily tasks with hope and determination. As a member of the family tells her grandson, ""The farm is special because it is our family home and the home of those who came before us. It is important for every person to know who they are and where they came from.""

In this joyous reminiscence of a small-town boyhood in West Tennessee, Drake reflects upon his family's origins, flowering, and eventual decline, and ponders the meaning of their lives. It is a story with which many a Southerner who has grown up in twentieth-century America will readily identify. As a chronicle in microcosm of the gradual disintegration of the traditional extended family that has taken place all across the country in this turbulent century, it speaks to modern humankind everywhere.Drake concludes that the old tales about the home place were what held the family together long after the place itself was gone. The Drakes were rooted in the goodness of God and the joy of the Lord. The gift they had been given, a happiness based ultimately on love and joy in all God's creation, they in turn passed on to their family and all who came in contact with them.History and geography also helped give the Drakes their identities: they knew who they were because they knew where they were and when they were, with no alienation from either time or place. Their lives were thus whole and full. Their home, their family, their community were all very real entities, nourishing and sustaining the individual member while giving him a sense of belonging to something greater than himself. They gave order and meaning to his life.The times have changed, but who can say that the world of the Drakes is any less meaningful to us today? Perhaps the memories of that world constitute a rebuke to our frenetic lives. But perhaps the legacy of their lives, their times, and, above all, their great love, can still exert its healing power on modern generations.

“A groundbreaking work about race and the American landscape, and a deep meditation on nature…wise and beautiful.”—Helen Macdonald, author of H is for Hawk A Foreword Reviews Best Book of the Year and Nautilus Silver Award Winner In me, there is the red of miry clay, the brown of spring floods, the gold of ripening tobacco. All of these hues are me; I am, in the deepest sense, colored. Dating back to slavery, Edgefield County, South Carolina—a place “easy to pass by on the way somewhere else”—has been home to generations of Lanhams. In The Home Place, readers meet these extraordinary people, including Drew himself, who over the course of the 1970s falls in love with the natural world around him. As his passion takes flight, however, he begins to ask what it means to be “the rare bird, the oddity.” By turns angry, funny, elegiac, and heartbreaking, The Home Place is a meditation on nature and belonging by an ornithologist and professor of ecology, at once a deeply moving memoir and riveting exploration of the contradictions of black identity in the rural South—and in America today. “When you’re done with The Home Place, it won’t be done with you. Its wonders will linger like everything luminous.”—Star Tribune “A lyrical story about the power of the wild…synthesizes his own family history, geography, nature, and race into a compelling argument for conservation and resilience.”—National Geographic

In 1919, against a backdrop of a long history of anti-Asian nativism, a handful of Japanese families established Cortez Colony in a bleak pocket of the San Joachin Valley. Valerie Matsumoto chronicles conflicts within the community as well as obstacles from without as the colonists responded to the challenges of settlement, the setbacks of the Great Depression, the hardships of World War II internment, and the opportunities of postwar reconstruction. Tracing the evolution of gender and family roles of members of Cortez as well as their cultural, religious, and educational institutions, she documents the persistence and flexibility of ethnic community and demonstrates its range of meaning from geographic location and web of social relations to state of mind.

"Eloquent and detailed...It's hard to have hope, but the organized observations and plans of Hoffman and people like her give me some. Read her book -- and listen." -- Jane Smiley, The Washington Post In her late 40s, Beth Hoffman decided to upend her comfortable life as a professor and journalist to move to her husband's family ranch in Iowa--all for the dream of becoming a farmer. There was just one problem: money. Half of America's two million farms made less than $300 in 2019, and many struggle just to stay afloat. Bet the Farm chronicles this struggle through Beth's eyes. She must contend with her father-in-law, who is reluctant to hand over control of the land. Growing oats is good for the environment but ends up being very bad for the wallet. And finding somewhere, in the midst of COVID-19, to slaughter grass finished beef is a nightmare. If Beth can't make it, how can farmers who confront racism, lack access to land, or don't have other jobs to fall back on hack it? Bet the Farm is a first-hand account of the perils of farming today and a personal exploration of more just and sustainable ways of producing food.

Acclaimed teaching pastor Daniel Grothe speaks to the sense of loneliness that many feel in today's age of hypermobility and noncommittal wandering, reminding us of the ancient vow of stability and teaching us how we can lead a richer life of friendship, community, and purpose. Unlike previous generations that had to stay put, many people today have unprecedented access to a lifestyle of mobility. We can explore and bounce from place to place, never settling down or making anywhere home. And while it feels freeing to be able to try something new whenever we want--whether it's a new job, a new city, a new group of friends, or even a new church--somewhere along the way, we discover we're missing something. We may be paying our bills and have a roof over our heads, but we're lonely and unfulfilled, disconnected and unsatisfied. What's that all about? What is the missing piece? In The Power of Place, pastor Daniel Grothe speaks to the human ache for home and makes a countercultural case for staying put. He calls us to reject the myth of Christian individuality and instead embrace the richness of commitment and community, arguing that we must stay in one place as long as we can, plant our lives, and let roots take hold. Because only then can we experience the deep fulfillment, friendship, and fruitfulness God created us for.

“Culled from the rarefied air of James Lee Burke, Greg Iles, and John Hart, Kevin Wolf has fashioned a painstakingly perfect tale of murder, angst, and the enduring power of the human spirit. If the late, great Pat Conroy had ever decided to write a mystery, this would be it.” —Jon Land “Kevin Wolf’s debut novel, The Homeplace, succeeds in every way. He has crafted a gripping, fast-paced narrative with beautifully drawn characters in an authentic and interesting small-town Colorado setting. Not only is the mystery compelling, but so are the characters. Even if there were no murders to solve, you would still want to spend time with these fascinating people whose lives echo the sparse and gorgeous landscape they inhabit and whose pasts refuse to leave them to their futures.” —Christine Carbo, author of The Wild Inside Chase Ford was the first of four generations of Ford men to leave Comanche County, Colorado. For Chase, leaving saved the best and hid the worst. But now, he has come home. His friends are right there waiting for him. And so are his enemies. Then the murder of a boy, a high school basketball star just like Chase, rocks the small town. When another death is discovered—one that also shares unsettling connections to him—law enforcement’s attention turns towards Chase, causing him to wonder just what he came home to. A suspenseful, dramatic crime novel, The Homeplace captures the stark beauty of life on the Colorado plains.

A study of the ethnocultural youth organizations formed by teenage Nisei girls in the greater Los Angeles area and the endurance of this world of female friendship and comradery from the Jazz Age through internment through the postwar period.