In a sense, I knew what I was getting into. I entered well-aware of the institutional, systemic norms that have precluded Black women from doing this work and creating knowledge that seeks to disrupt many of the corrupt, perverse, misguided myths about who we are and what we have done. My awareness, though, has not made my short journey less arduous.
In an interpretive sense, the authors maintain an admirable focus on the history of technological innovation and its environmental impact, and include substantive discussions of economic principles and theories; their willingness to discuss the influence of Communism and Socialism on American history is particularly impressive.
Filling four hundred years of East and Southeast Asian history in a 25-page long chapter is like fitting Alice in the rabbit hole. A taste of Asia can be grasped by following Spielvogel’s description of how China’s last two dynasties flourished and languished, how Japan was unified and ruled under a feudal system, what economic changes took place in East and Southeast Asia through encountering Europeans, as well as the most famous artistic and cultural achievements to be enjoyed should the reader live in Ming-Qing China or Tokugawa Japan.
As an individual, there are so many identities (or labels) that apply to me: a Pakistani, a Muslim, a man, a historian, and so on. On their own, these identities are not too different from millions of others in the world. But it is the combination of all these identities that made me pursue a career as a historian, and it is also the combination of all these identities that acted as the biggest roadblock in doing so.
The unit maintains the standard politico-centric narrative traditional to the Civil War era. Published in 2010, this narrative arc ignores or underemphasizes intriguing historiographic contributions exploring such issues as social changes on the home front, the divided nature of Southern society, and the significance of guerrilla warfare, especially along the border between North and South.