New at the Library

Reviewed: NYT/BR 6 June 2021 p. 60.
Description: Liz Hauck and her dad had a plan to start a weekly cooking program in a residential home for teen-aged boys in state care, which was run by the human services agency he co-directed. When her father died unexpectedly after a brief illness, Liz decided to attempt the cooking project without him. She didn't know what to expect volunteering with court-involved youth, but as a high school teacher she knew that teenagers are drawn to food-related activities, and as a daughter, she believed that if she and the kids made even a single dinner together she could check one box off of her father’s long, unfinished to-do list. This is the story of what happened around the table, and how one dinner became one hundred dinners. (publ.)

Description: Ten Global Cities provide a first-hand account of the challenges of homelessness and how cities have used innovation and local political coordination to take them on. Most importantly, it shares lessons from ten cities globally–Bogota, Mexico City, Los Angeles, Houston, Nashville, New York City, Baltimore, Edmonton, Paris, and Athens–and draws the common themes and strategies that have worked to overcome street homelessness. The authors have been involved in these cities through their work at Bloomberg Associates (as staff and consultants) and bring an interesting array of government, non-profit, and academic perspectives to analyze the efforts underway. From these authors’ perspective, homelessness is not an insurmountable social condition, and their examples show that cities can lead the charge for better outcomes. (publ.)

Description: Many believe the child welfare system protects children from abuse. But as Torn Apart uncovers, this system is designed to punish Black families. Drawing on decades of research, legal scholar and sociologist Dorothy Roberts reveals that the child welfare system is better understood as a “family policing system” that collaborates with law enforcement and prisons to oppress Black communities. Child protection investigations ensnare a majority of Black children, putting their families under intense state surveillance and regulation. Black children are disproportionately likely to be torn from their families and placed in foster care, driving many to juvenile detention and imprisonment. The only way to stop the destruction caused by family policing, Roberts argues, is to abolish the child welfare system and liberate Black communities. (publ.)

Only one hundred years ago, even in the world's wealthiest nations, children died in great numbers of diarrhea, diphtheria, measles, scarlet fever and meningitis. Culture was shaped by these deaths; diaries and letters recorded them, poets and writers from Louisa May Alcott to Eugene O'Neill wrote about and lamented them. The near-conquest of infant and child mortality is one of our greatest human achievements, and Perri Klass pulls the story together for the first time, paying tribute to scientists, public health advocates, and groundbreaking women doctors like Sara Josephine Baker and Mary Putnam Jacobi, who brought new scientific ideas about sanitation and vaccination to families. Thanks to their work, early death is now the exception, bringing about a massive transformation in society and freeing parents to worry a lot more about a lot less.

In this lyrical debut, Ryan Berg immerses readers in the gritty, dangerous, and shockingly underreported world of homeless LGBTQ teens in New York. As a caseworker in a group home for disowned LGBTQ teenagers, Berg witnessed the struggles, fears, and ambitions of these disconnected youth as they resisted the pull of the street, tottering between destruction and survival. No House to Call My Home traces their efforts to break away from dangerous sex work and cycles of drug and alcohol abuse, and, in the process, to heal from years of trauma. Berg uncovers the real lives behind the harrowing statistics: over 4,000 youth are homeless in New York City -- 43 percent of them identify as LGBTQ. Through these stories, Berg compels us to rethink the way we define privilege, identity, love, and family. Beyond the tears, bluster, and bravado, he reveals the force that allows them to carry on -- the irrepressible hope of youth.

An award-winning journalist's intimate investigation of the true scope of domestic violence, revealing how the roots of America's most pressing social crises are buried in abuse that happens behind closed doors. We call it domestic violence. We call it private violence. Sometimes we call it intimate terrorism. But whatever we call it, we generally do not believe it has anything at all to do with us, despite the World Health Organization deeming it a "global epidemic." In America, domestic violence accounts for 15 percent of all violent crime, and yet it remains locked in silence. We still have not taken the true measure of this problem. In No Visible Bruises, journalist Rachel Louise Snyder gives context for what we don't know we're seeing. She frames this urgent and immersive account of the scale of domestic violence in our country around key stories that explode the common myths--that if things were bad enough, victims would just leave; that a violent person cannot become nonviolent; that shelter is an adequate response; and most insidiously that violence inside the home is a private matter, sealed from the public sphere and disconnected from other forms of violence. Through the stories of victims, perpetrators, law enforcement, and reform movements from across the country, Snyder explores the real roots of private violence, its far-reaching consequences for society, and what it will take to truly address it.