This first-hand account tells the story of turbulent civil rights era Atlanta through the eyes of a white upper-class woman who became an outspoken advocate for integration and racial equality As a privileged white woman who grew up in segregated Atlanta, Sara Mitchell Parsons was an unlikely candidate to become a civil rights agitator. After all, her only contacts with blacks were with those who helped raise her and those who later helped raise her children. As a young woman, she followed the conventional path expected of her, becoming the dutiful wife of a conservative husband, going to the country club, and playing bridge. But unlike many of her peers, Parsons harbored an increasing uneasiness about racial segregation. In a memoir that includes candid diary excerpts, Parsons chronicles her moral awakening. With little support from her husband, she runs for the Atlanta Board of Education on a quietly integrationist platform and, once elected, becomes increasingly outspoken about inequitable school conditions and the slow pace of integration. Her activities bring her into contact with such civil rights leaders as Martin Luther King, Jr., and his wife, Coretta Scott King. For a time, she leads a dual existence, sometimes traveling the great psychic distance from an NAACP meeting on Auburn Avenue to an all-white party in upscale Buckhead. She eventually drops her ladies' clubs, and her deepening involvement in the civil rights movement costs Parsons many friends as well as her first marriage.

The international legal framework of human rights presents itself as universal. But rights do not exist as a mere framework; they are enacted, practiced, and debated in local contexts. Rights After Wrongs ethnographically explores the chasm between the ideals and the practice of human rights. Specifically, it shows where the sweeping colonial logics of Western law meets the lived experiences, accumulated histories, and humanitarian debts present in post-colonial Zimbabwe. Through a comprehensive survey of human rights scholarship, Shannon Morreira explores the ways in which the global framework of human rights is locally interpreted, constituted, and contested in Harare, Zimbabwe, and Musina and Cape Town, South Africa. Presenting the stories of those who lived through the violent struggles of the past decades, Morreira shows how supposedly universal ideals become localized in the context of post-colonial Southern Africa. Rights After Wrongs uncovers the disconnect between the ways human rights appear on paper and the ways in which it is possible for people to use and understand them in everyday life.

A New York Times Notable Book for 2011 Since the 1960s, ideas developed during the civil rights movement have been astonishingly successful in fighting overt discrimination and prejudice. But how successful are they at combating the whole spectrum of social injustice-including conditions that aren't directly caused by bigotry? How do they stand up to segregation, for instance-a legacy of racism, but not the direct result of ongoing discrimination? It's tempting to believe that civil rights litigation can combat these social ills as efficiently as it has fought blatant discrimination. In Rights Gone Wrong, Richard Thompson Ford, author of the New York Times Notable Book The Race Card, argues that this is seldom the case. Civil rights do too much and not enough: opportunists use them to get a competitive edge in schools and job markets, while special-interest groups use them to demand special privileges. Extremists on both the left and the right have hijacked civil rights for personal advantage. Worst of all, their theatrics have drawn attention away from more serious social injustices. Ford, a professor of law at Stanford University, shows us the many ways in which civil rights can go terribly wrong. He examines newsworthy lawsuits with shrewdness and humor, proving that the distinction between civil rights and personal entitlements is often anything but clear. Finally, he reveals how many of today's social injustices actually can't be remedied by civil rights law, and demands more creative and nuanced solutions. In order to live up to the legacy of the civil rights movement, we must renew our commitment to civil rights, and move beyond them.

When a United Press International executive asked Al Benn where he wanted to begin his journalism career, he unhesitatingly replied: “Where the action is.” Little did he know at the time that he’d wind up reporting on America’s civil rights movement in Birmingham, Alabama which was known as BOMBingham in the 1960s. Benn had no experience as a reporter in 1964, but he quickly learned by following and watching those who did. One night, he might be in a pasture covering a Ku Klux Klan rally where grand dragons and imperial wizards in white sheets delivered hate-filled speeches under the glow of burning crosses. The next night, he might be inside a black church where civil rights leaders called for peace and racial harmony. It was an exciting, often harrowing time for the rookie reporter—filled with deadline pressures, danger and the knowledge that he had become personally involved in covering developments of historic proportions. When he wasn’t chronicling civil rights events, Benn wrote about scientists and astronauts involved in the space race as well as reaction on the home front to the war that raged in Vietnam. His favorite assignment was covering football at the University of Alabama where he got to know the Crimson Tide’s head coach, Paul “Bear” Bryant, and reported the exploits of star quarterbacks such as Joe Namath and Ken Stabler. He also found time to write several exclusive stories. One involved secret payments to the widows of Alabama pilots killed during the disastrous Bay of Pigs invasion in Cuba. Another centered on the national boycott of Beatles records--launched by two Birmingham radio personalities upset over a comment by John Lennon that his group was more popular than Jesus. Benn left UPI in 1967 to begin the newspaper phase of his journalism career. He worked in three states, becoming an editor and publisher, before landing his best job of all —covering rural Alabama for the Montgomery Advertiser in 1980. Benn has written about heroes and heels, legends and losers, captains of industry and disgraced CEOs. Most of all, he’s focused on the people who work hard to support their families and improve the quality of life in their cities. They’re his heroes. This book explores Benn’s four decades as a journalist. It recounts the hectic pace at UPI where he faced deadlines every minute as well as newspaper work that afforded him a chance to write columns, do investigative reporting and, as he did at UPI, drop everything and race to the next big story. It’s also about growing up in the slums of a small Pennsylvania town and then enlisting in the Marine Corps where he gained his first journalism experience. So, come along on a 40-year ride through an important period in American history. It’s a career as seen through the eyes of a reporter who admits he got just what he asked for in 1964—plenty of action.

n this provocative book, Abigail Thernstrom argues that southern resistance to black political power began a process by which the act was radically revised both for good and ill. Congress, the courts, and the Justice Department altered the statute to ensure the election of blacks and Hispanics to legislative bodies ranging from school boards and county councils to the U.S. Congress.

When Governor Terry Sanford established the North Carolina Fund in 1963, he saw it as a way to provide a better life for the "tens of thousands whose family income is so low that daily subsistence is always in doubt." Illustrated with evocative photographs by Billy Barnes, To Right These Wrongs offers a lively account of this pioneering effort in America's War on Poverty. Robert Korstad and James Leloudis describe how the Fund's initial successes grew out of its reliance on private philanthropy and federal dollars and its commitment to the democratic mobilization of the poor. Both were calculated tactics designed to outflank conservative state lawmakers and entrenched local interests that nourished Jim Crow, perpetuated one-party politics, and protected an economy built on cheap labor. By late 1968, when the Fund closed its doors, a resurgent politics of race had gained the advantage, led by a Republican Party that had reorganized itself around opposition to civil rights and aid to the poor. The North Carolina Fund came up short in its battle against poverty, but its story continues to be a source of inspiration and instruction for new generations of Americans.

"A Cornelia & Michael Bessie Book - Pantheon Books". Index.

This book tells the story of how Americans, from the Civil War through today, have fought over the meaning of civil rights.

Few historical events lend themselves to such a sharp delineation between right and wrong as does the civil rights struggle. Consequently, many historical accounts of white resistance to civil rights legislation emphasize the ferocity of the opposition, from the Ole Miss riots to the depredations of Eugene “Bull” Conner’s Birmingham police force to George Wallace’s stand on the schoolhouse steps. While such hostile episodes frequently occurred in the Jim Crow South, civil rights adversaries also employed other, less confrontational but remarkably successful, tactics to deny equal rights to black Americans. In Delaying the Dream, Keith M. Finley explores gradations in the opposition by examining how the region’s principal national spokesmen—its United States senators—addressed themselves to the civil rights question and developed a concerted plan of action to thwart legislation: the use of strategic delay. Prior to World War II, Finley explains, southern senators recognized the fall of segregation as inevitable and consciously changed their tactics to delay, rather than prevent, defeat, enabling them to frustrate civil rights advances for decades. As public support for civil rights grew, southern senators transformed their arguments to limit the use of overt racism and appeal to northerners. They granted minor concessions on bills only tangentially related to civil rights while emasculating those with more substantive provisions. They garnered support by nationalizing their defense of sectional interests and linked their defense of segregation with constitutional principles to curry favor with non-southern politicians. While the senators achieved success at the federal level, Finley shows, they failed to challenge local racial agitators in the South, allowing extremism to flourish. The escalation of white assaults on peaceful protesters in the 1950s and 1960s finally prompted northerners to question southern claims of tranquility under Jim Crow. When they did, segregation came under direct attack, and the principles that had informed strategic delay became obsolete. Finley’s analysis goes beyond traditional images of the quest for racial equality--the heroic struggle, the southern extremism, the filibusters--to reveal another side to the conflict. By focusing on strategic delay and the senators’ foresight in recognizing the need for this tactic, Delaying the Dream adds a fresh perspective to the canon on the civil rights era in modern American history.

Civil Rights and Wrongs is a powerful and important reappraisal of the American racial dilemma by a uniquely qualified observer and sometime participant who viewed it from the eye of the political storm that it spawned. In this revised edition, Pulitzer Prize-winning writer and editor Harry S. Ashmore assesses the ideological impasses that limited Bill Clinton's effort to reinstate activist government in Washington and offers a penetrating analysis of the 1996 election.