Karen longed for acceptance, validation and love, but had no ability to form healthy, meaningful relationships. Born into a large family already suffering the effects of two generations of residential school, and surviving her own nine years at St. Margaret Indian Residential School, Karen (like everyone she knew) had been systematically stripped of her dignity, identity, language, culture, family and community support systems. Not wanting to be alone as an adult, Karen tolerated unhealthy relationships with family and partners. Still, she was coping. But after suffering further trauma, Karen turned to alcohol and other addictions to numb her pain. Eventually, Karen found the strength to reach out for help. She learned to grieve through layers of shame and was finally able to embrace her identity. Karen also discovered what has long been known in her culture - the healing power of sharing your story. Karen would now like to share this book, her story, with you.
Discover the true genius behind history's greatest "madmen". From Dr. Frankenstein to Dr. Jekyll, the image of the mad scientist surrounded by glass vials, copper coils, and electrical apparatus remains a popular fixture. In films and fiction, he's comically misguided, tragically misunderstood, or pathologically evil. But the origins of this stereotype can be found in the sometimes-eccentric real life men and women who challenged our view of the world and broke new scientific frontiers. They Called Me Mad recounts the amazing true stories of such historical luminaries as Archimedes, the calculator of pi and creator of the world's first death ray; Isaac Newton, the world's first great scientist and the last great alchemist; Nikola Tesla, who built the precursors of robots, fluorescent lighting, and particle beam weapons before the turn of the twentieth century-and more.
Xat'sull Chief Bev Sellars spent her childhood in a church-run residential school whose aim it was to "civilize" Native children through Christian teachings, forced separation from family and culture, and discipline. In addition, beginning at the age of five, Sellars was isolated for two years at Coqualeetza Indian Turberculosis Hospital in Sardis, British Columbia, nearly six hours' drive from home. The trauma of these experiences has reverberated throughout her life. The first full-length memoir to be published out of St. Joseph's Mission at Williams Lake, BC, Sellars tells of three generations of women who attended the school, interweaving the personal histories of her grandmother and her mother with her own. She tells of hunger, forced labour, and physical beatings, often with a leather strap, and also of the demand for conformity in a culturally alien institution where children were confined and denigrated for failure to be White and Roman Catholic. Like Native children forced by law to attend schools across Canada and the United States, Sellars and other students of St. Joseph's Mission were allowed home only for two months in the summer and for two weeks at Christmas. The rest of the year they lived, worked, and studied at the school. St. Joseph's Mission is the site of the controversial and well-publicized sex-related offences of Bishop Hubert O'Connor, which took place during Sellars's student days, between 1962 and 1967, when O'Connor was the school principal. After the school's closure, those who had been forced to attend came from surrounding reserves and smashed windows, tore doors and cabinets from the wall, and broke anything that could be broken. Overnight their anger turned a site of shameful memory into a pile of rubble. In this frank and poignant memoir, Sellars breaks her silence about the institution's lasting effects, and eloquently articulates her own path to healing.
Who’s Crazy? What does it mean to be crazy? Is using the word crazy offensive? What happens when a label like that gets attached to your everyday experiences? To understand mental health, we need to talk openly about it. Because there’s no single definition of crazy, there’s no single experience that embodies it, and the word itself means different things—wild? extreme? disturbed? passionate?—to different people. In (Don’t) Call Me Crazy, thirty-three actors, athletes, writers, and artists offer essays, lists, comics, and illustrations that explore a wide range of topics: their personal experiences with mental illness, how we do and don’t talk about mental health, help for better understanding how every person’s brain is wired differently, and what, exactly, might make someone crazy. If you’ve ever struggled with your mental health, or know someone who has, come on in, turn the pages . . . and let’s get talking.
From REBELLER comes a new thriller by author Natasha Tynes. Jordanian student Siwar Salaiha is murdered on her birthday in Maryland,and her consciousness survives, finding refuge in the body of a Seattle baby. Stuck in this speech delayed three-year old body, Siwar tries but fails to communicate with Wyatt's parents, instead focusing on solving the mystery behind her murder. #### "Natasha Tynes had only recently sold her novel They Called Me Wyatt when she ran afoul of cancel culture for snitching on a rail worker who was breaking the rules by eating on a train. Look it up on Goodreads and--as of this writing--you'll discover nearly 2,000 one-star ratings and over a thousand reviews--many, if not most of them, from people who give the book one star despite admitting they never read it, parroting the lie that "Natasha Tynes hates black women." As a publisher myself, it's distressing that a book's reputation can be tanked by a horde of people who've never even seen the novel in question when so many authors struggle to generate any reviews from people who've actually taken the time to sit down and read the book they're reviewing. Tynes' work suffered for her bad behavior--unjustly, unfairly, and unread. Almost two thousand negative reactions--when only a few hundred copies were even ordered, and when Tynes' previous publisher stopped shipment on books after her tweet went viral. Tynes--again, a woman of color, mother of three, and immigrant to the United States --had her career ended before it began because the demons of outrage so decreed it. The problem is that They Called me Wyatt is a good book--a compelling, original thriller that, under other circumstances, would instead be praised for its unique and original voice, weaving together the stories and lives of people from a multitude of cultures and backgrounds for a one-of-a-kind espionage thriller. Tynes' literary voice captures a woman caught between multiple worlds: first, as a teenage immigrant to the US, and then as an adult woman trapped in the body of a young boy after her murder results in reincarnation. Growing up with an identity not her own--and struggling with what her identity even is--Tynes' protagonist goes on a journey fantastically reminiscent of so many immigrants to the United States who attempt to forge a new identity while remaining faithful to their own culture. All of this was lost, though, amidst the outrage. Readers were never given the opportunity to discover Tynes' work on its own terms, to be judged on its own merits. Until now. I've decided to publish They Called Me Wyatt because I believe in second chances. Natasha Tynes has since apologized for her tweet and acknowledged her bad behavior. I respect that. I believe in forgiveness and growth. I believe that people can learn from their past mistakes and move beyond them. I do not believe in the one-and-done brutality of Twitter's outrage police. I do not believe that one ignorant tweet should brand an individual forever and ruin their career. I do not believe an artist's work should be judged on the basis of one act of stupidity on the part of its creator. That's why, just like its protagonist, I've decided to reincarnate They Called me Wyatt as the first entry in the REBELLER literary imprint. REBELLER is about bucking the system--about seeing a good idea, being told it can't be done, and doing it anyway. It's about judging art on its merits and turning our backs on a Hollywood system and elitist mindset that would determine the worth--or worthlessness--of something based on arbitrary rules. It's about remaining calm in the face of certain fury that will be leveled on us by those most insecure and apoplectic from our confidence in our convictions. It's about something being dangerous and doing it anyway."- Dallas Sonnier
Karen longed for acceptance, validation and love, but had no ability to form healthy, meaningful relationships. Born into a large family already suffering the effects of two generations of residential school, and surviving her own nine years at St. Margaret Indian Residential School, Karen (like everyone she knew) had been systematically stripped of her dignity, identity, language, culture, family and community support systems. Not wanting to be alone as an adult, Karen tolerated unhealthy relationships with family and partners. Still, she was coping. But after suffering further trauma, Karen turned to alcohol and other addictions to numb her pain. Eventually, Karen found the strength to reach out for help. She learned to grieve through layers of shame and was finally able to embrace her identity. Karen also discovered what has long been known in her culture - the healing power of sharing your story. Karen would now like to share this book, her story, with you.
Walter Littlemoon's memoir, They Called Me Uncivilized, is a call to awareness from within the heart of Wounded Knee. In telling his story, Littlemoon describes the impact federal Indian policies have had on his life and on the history of his family. He gives a rare view into the cruelty inflicted on generations of Native American children through the implementation of U.S. government boarding schools, which resulted in a muted truth, called Soul Wound by some. In addition, and for the first time, his narrative provides a resident's view of the 1973 militant Occupation of Wounded Knee and the lasting impact that takeover has had on his community. His path toward a sense of peace and contentment is one he hopes others will follow. Remembering and telling the truth about traumatic events are prerequisites for healing. Many books have been written by scholars describing one aspect or another of Native American life, their history, their spirituality, the 1973 occupation, and a few have tried to describe the boarding schools. None have connected the dots. Until the language of the everyday man is used, scholarly words will shut out the people they describe and the pathology created by federal Indian policy will continue.
Moving, funny devotions crafted for every day by moms who know the drill When women take on the role of mom, they take on a hundred other titles as well: healer, comforter, chef, teacher, cheerleader—and less flattering things like disciplinarian, ruiner of fun times, and chief worrier. In the middle of juggling all those roles, finding room to spend time alone seeking God can seem insurmountable. Moms Michelle Medlock Adams and Bethany Jett understand the struggles—and the joys. They've pulled together their own experiences with the crazy world of parenting as well as the most requested, most talked about topics on mommy blogs. Their research nailed down what moms really want to talk about. And then they created a devotional that speaks straight to the heart of the mommy life. They Call Me Mom is a lighthearted, transparent take on the real-life ups and downs mothers face through all stages of parenting. Whether mom just brought home her first baby or she has several kids and zero time, she'll find relatable words and helpful encouragement in these pages. And with one devotion for every week of the year, it's easy to fit in a few minutes with God in the middle of a full parenting life.
Sara Richardson, a middle-aged clergyman’s wife, wakes up one morning with the thought that something out of the ordinary was going to happen. As she carried her coffee into the family room, the thought from earlier almost made her spill her coffee. She was told to go to the window near the front door, and look out. Not wanting to disobey what she thought might be a message from God, she does what it asked. The spot nearest the door was still in the shadows. As her eyes adjusted, she made out what appeared to be a body lying just feet from her door. Not believing what she saw, she closed her eyes then looked again. Sure enough, there was a body! It was an old woman, lying face down, her long white hair spread around her face. Who was this old woman and what was she doing on Sara’s front lawn? Was she alive, or God forbid dead? Follow Sara’s journey as she takes a leap of faith into doing what God asked of her, with no questions asked.
In this autobiography, Reies López Tijerina, writes about his attempts to reclaim land grants, including his taking up arms against the authorities and spending time in the federal prison system. They Called Me "King Tiger" is Reies López Tijerinas visionary autobiography chronicling his activities during a tumultous period in U.S. History. Along with César Chávez, Rodolfo "Corky Gonzales, and José Ángel Gutiérrez, Reies López Tijerina was one of the acknowledged major leaders of the 1960s Mexican-American Civil Rights Movement. Of these four, Chávez and Tijerina were the most connected to, and involved in, grass-roots community organizing, while the latter two were more dedicated to political change. But where Chávez consistently advocated non-violent protest, López Tijerina increasingly turned to militancy. He and his followers even took up arms against the authorities. And of the four, Tijerina was the only one to spend significant time in prison for his acts. Tijerina is also the only member of this historical group to have penned his memoirs, perhaps in an effort to explain the trials and frustrations that brought him and his Federal Land Grant Alliance members to break the law: reclaiming part of a national forest reserve as part of their inheritance; invading and occupying a courthouse, inflicting a gunshot wound on a deputy sheriff in the process; and challenging New Mexico and national authorities at every opportunity. But the acts that placed him in most danger were also the ones that won the hearts and minds of many young Chicano activists. Originally self-published, They Called Me King Tiger is now published as part of the U.S. Hispanic Civil Rights Series. What is clear from López Tijerinas testimony is his sincerity, his years of research on the issues of land grants and civil rights, and his persistent spiritual and political leadership of the disenfranchised descendants of the original colonizers of New Mexico. All of the passion and commitment, as well as the flamboyant rhetoric of the 1960s, is preserved in this recollection of a life dedicated to a cause and transformed by continuous prosecution. They Called Me King Tiger is an historical document of the first order, clarifying the motives and thinking of one of the Chicano Movements now-forgotten martyrs - a man who sought justice for those who have been treated like foreigners on their own soil.
