Jamilah At The End Of The World

Set against the backdrop of a brutal Toronto summer heatwave, seventeen-year-old Jamilah Monsour makes plans for what she’s certain is the beginning of the climate change catastrophe that will end the world. Luckily, Jamilah knows what has to be done to save her family: transform the back alley garage into a bunker. Reluctantly her parents allow the bunker, but they draw the line when she announces she’s going to skip university and instead use the money they had saved for her education to buy solar panels and a generator. When an electricity blackout strikes, Jamilah’s climate change anxiety kicks into high gear and she ends up staying out all night, infuriating her father who is done with all this doomsday nonsense. Tension at home erupts and Jamilah runs away and joins a climate change protest where she learns about solidarity and agency, giving her hope for the future. When she returns home, her parents see just how deep Jamilah’s climate change convictions run and the family discusses her attending university to study environmental science, a plan they can all agree on. But Jamilah still plans on buying a generator, just in case.

Set against the backdrop of a brutal Toronto summer heatwave, seventeen-year-old Jamilah Monsour makes plans for what she’s certain is the beginning of the climate change catastrophe that will end the world. Luckily, Jamilah knows what has to be done to save her family: transform the back alley garage into a bunker. Reluctantly her parents allow the bunker, but they draw the line when she announces she’s going to skip university and instead use the money they had saved for her education to buy solar panels and a generator. When an electricity blackout strikes, Jamilah’s climate change anxiety kicks into high gear and she ends up staying out all night, infuriating her Palestinian-born conservative father who is done with all this doomsday nonsense. Tension at home erupts and Jamilah runs away and joins a climate change protest where she learns about solidarity and agency, giving her hope for the future. When she returns home, her parents see just how deep Jamilah’s climate change convictions run and the family discusses her attending university to study environmental science, a plan they can all agree on. But Jamilah still plans on buying a generator, just in case.

Jamie just wants to fit in. She doesn't want to be seen as a stereotypical Muslim girl named Jamilah, so she does everything possible to hide that part of herself, even if it means keeping her friends at a distance. But when the cutest boy in school asks her out and her friends start to wonder about her life outside of school, suddenly her secrets are threatened. Jamie has to figure out how to be both Jamie and Jamilah before she loses everything...

Edwards Humor and More: Humor, Word Play, Personae, Memoirs, and Interpretation contains writings in the five different categories. Each one contains respective elements of the other four. Edward, the main persona of Edward in his nuclear family when he was growing up, gained no fewer than seventeen additional personae in the course of the enrichment of his life. The pieces in Word Play range from the flippant, to the semiserious, to the intellectual. Interpretation has two parts: insights about material from twenty-five Sabbath portions of the week in the five books of Moses and an innovative approach to the relationships of the members of the Hebrew first family. Interpretation extends to the essay in his Memoirs section Three Jewish Women in This Bridge Called My Back. The book has something for everyonefrom grades nine to twelve to adults.

This book puts the short story at the heart of contemporary postcolonial studies and questions what postcolonial literary criticism may be. Focusing on short fiction between 1975 and today – the period in which critical theory came to determine postcolonial studies – it argues for a sophisticated critique exemplified by the ambiguity of the form.

A riveting, comprehensive history of the Arab peoples and tribes that explores the role of language as a cultural touchstone This kaleidoscopic book covers almost 3,000 years of Arab history and shines a light on the footloose Arab peoples and tribes who conquered lands and disseminated their language and culture over vast distances. Tracing this process to the origins of the Arabic language, rather than the advent of Islam, Tim Mackintosh-Smith begins his narrative more than a thousand years before Muhammad and focuses on how Arabic, both spoken and written, has functioned as a vital source of shared cultural identity over the millennia. Mackintosh-Smith reveals how linguistic developments—from pre-Islamic poetry to the growth of script, Muhammad’s use of writing, and the later problems of printing Arabic—have helped and hindered the progress of Arab history, and investigates how, even in today’s politically fractured post–Arab Spring environment, Arabic itself is still a source of unity and disunity.

Shortlisted for the Center for Fiction First Novel Prize Shortlisted for the VCU Cabell First Novelist Award A Phenomenal Book Club Pick TIME • Best Books of the Month New York Times • Editors’ Choice Named one of the Most Anticipated Books of the Year by Vulture, Goodreads, Essence, Ms. Magazine, and SheReads.com An extraordinary debut novel shot through with remarkable nuance and tenderness, Big Girl traces the intergenerational hungers of the profoundly lovable Malaya Clondon. “Alive with delicious prose and the cacophony of ’90s Harlem, Big Girl gifts us a heroine carrying the weight of worn-out ideas, who dares to defy the compulsion to shrink, and in turn teaches us to pursue our fullest, most desirous selves without shame.” —Janet Mock Malaya Clondon hates when her mother drags her to Weight Watchers meetings in the church’s stuffy basement community center. A quietly inquisitive eight-year-old struggling to suppress her insatiable longing, she would much rather paint alone in her bedroom, or sneak out with her father for a sampling of Harlem’s forbidden street foods. For Malaya, the pressures of going to a predominantly white Upper East Side prep school are compounded by the high expectations passed down over generations from her sharp-tongued grandmother and her mother, Nyela, a painfully proper professor struggling to earn tenure at a prestigious university. But their relentless prescriptions—fad diets of cottage-cheese and sugar-free Jell-O, high-cardio African dance classes, endless doctors’ appointments—don’t work on Malaya. As Malaya comes of age in a rapidly gentrifying 1990s Harlem, she strains to understand “ladyness” and fit neatly within the suffocating confines of a so-called “femininity” that holds no room for her body. She finds solace in the lyrical riffs of Biggie Smalls and Aaliyah, and in the support of her sensitive father, Percy; still, tensions at home mount as rapidly as Malaya’s weight. Nothing seems to help—until a family tragedy forces her to finally face the source of her hunger on her own terms. Exquisitely compassionate and clever, Big Girl is “filled with everyday people who, in Mecca Jamilah Sullivan’s gifted hands, show us the love and struggle of what it means to be inside bodies that don’t always fit with the outside world” (Jacqueline Woodson). In tracing the perils and pleasures of the inheritance that comes with being born, Sullivan pushes boundaries and creates an unforgettable portrait of Black womanhood in America.