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In Working for the Common Good, Madelyn Holmes details the political policy work of eight social democratic Canadian women and highlights their largely unrecognized struggles and accomplishments.
Throughout their political careers, Agnes Macphail, Thérèse Casgrain, Grace MacInnis, Pauline Jewett, Margaret Mitchell, Lynn McDonald, Audrey McLaughlin and Alexa McDonough worked towards curing society’s economic and social ills. They raised their voices for world peace from the 1920s to the 2000s. They were incensed about economic inequality in Canadian society and advocated for policies to reduce poverty. They fought for social justice for Indigenous peoples, Japanese-Canadians, Chinese-Canadians, Muslim-Canadians and the imprisoned. The profiles in this book illustrate the many ways these politicians embraced the cause of gender equality and served as role models for generations of Canadian women.

The intensifying climate crisis has put the world on high alert. For those living in the high-consuming, high-polluting swaths of the world, it is clear that something about our society, our politics, our economy — our very way of life — must change. But the nature of those necessary changes is a source of seemingly intractable dispute. Does the answer lie in stimulating the dynamism of capitalist market forces with a carbon price, or in the deployment of new, climate-engineering technologies? Or does it lie in still more radical changes — something akin to a wartime-like mobilization to rapidly build a more just post-carbon world, or a shift to an ecologically bounded society that has transcended perpetual capitalist growth? Our ideologies — the competing ways we believe the world should be — powerfully affect how we see the problem of climate change and what we think ought to be done about it. In this highly original and accessible book, Saad presents an erudite survey of political perspectives and ethical arguments about how we should respond to the climate crisis. By arranging these approaches into two broad categories of “system preserving” and “system changing” frameworks, Saad takes the reader on a journey through competing ideas about how we can address our collective responsibility to create a livable global future.

The culmination of four years of ethnographic research at the Roma Community Centre in Toronto, Writing the Roma is the first book to provide an overview of the identities, origins, history and treatment of Roma refugees. Cynthia Levine-Rasky traces the historical and cultural roots of the Roma in Europe, through their genocide in the Holocaust, their persecution in Eastern Europe in the post-Communist era, to their settlement as refugees in Canada. What emerges is a book that challenges the stereotypes surrounding this non-territorial nation while exposing the ways that Canadian immigration policies have affected
Roma populations.

Since 2001 and the beginning of the “War on Terror,” Canadian culture has undergone a profound militarization. Moving away from previous myths of national identity centred on notions of multiculturalism and peacekeeping, Canada is increasingly being defined through a new patriotism based on military and policing actions around the world. In this book, A.L. McCready explains how this cultural transformation took place by examining a range of Canadian cultural case studies, from the supposedly grassroots “Support Our Troops” campaigns to films and CBC programs. McCready shows how a combination of cultural shifts and explicit government actions have worked to silence internal debate and criticism and to transform Canadians’ understanding of their country and its role in the world. McCready also shows how today’s patriotic militarism is part of a much broader socio-economic transformation of Canadian society towards a more neo-conservative and free-market oriented paradigm and how Canada’s militarized nationalism emerges from and is continuous with the nation’s racial and colonial history.

Documenting the takeover of Canadian daily newspapers by profit-oriented corporations, the rise of Conrad Black, and the danger that these trends pose to the long-term survival of the daily press, this book presents a fascinating journey from the editorial offices of the big daily newspapers where the author once worked to a small town in Quebec where he went to recapture the essence of journalism`s utility.

Documenting a black professor’s account of his own professional experience, this study describes what it feels like to be a nonwhite academic in one of the “big three” disciplines in the humanities—English, history, and philosophy. Challenging the notion that today’s Canadian universities have successfully addressed the issues of diversity, this argument warns that if professors of color cannot see academia as a liberal bastion, it can only be even more forbidding for students of color. Demonstrating how integration policies are manipulated when it comes to hiring visible minorities in the university, this reference highlights aspects such as merit that are commonly used to deny employment. Positing that institutions should deliver on their stated policies instead of hiding behind formalities, this emboldened examination will surprise those inside and outside of the academic field.

On December 6, 1989, a man walked into the engineering school École Polytechnique de Montreal, armed with a semi-automatic rifle and, declaring “I hate feminists,” killed fourteen young women. “I Hate Feminists”, originally published in French in 2009, examines the collective memory that emerged in the immediate aftermath and years following the massacre as Canadians struggled to make sense of this tragic event and understand the motivations of the killer. Exploring stories and editorials in Montreal and Toronto newspapers, texts distributed within anti-feminist “masculinist” networks, discourses about memorials in major Canadian cities and the film Polytechnique, which was released on the twentieth anniversary of the massacre, Mélissa Blais argues that feminist analyses and the killer’s own statements have been set aside in favour of interpretations that absolve the killer of responsibility or even shift that blame onto women and feminists. In the end, Blais contends, the collective memory that has been constructed through various media has functioned not as a testament to violence against women but as a catalyst for anti-feminist discourse.