Once we bowled in leagues, usually after work; but no longer. This seemingly small phenomenon symbolizes a significant social change. Drawing on surveys on Americans' changing behavior over the past twenty-five years, Putnam shows how we have become increasingly disconnected from family, friends, neighbors, and social structures, whether the PTA, church, recreation clubs, political parties, or bowling leagues. Our shrinking access to the "social capital" that is the reward of communal activity and community sharing is a serious threat to our civic and personal health. The loss of social capital is felt in critical ways : communities with less social capital have lower educational performance and more teen pregnancy, child suicide, low birth weight, and prenatal mortality. Social capital is also a strong predictor of crime rates, other measures of neighborhood quality of life, and health. America has faced this crisis before. At the turn of the last century, social capital was at low ebb, reduced by urbanization, industrialization, and vast immigration that uprooted Americans from their friends, social institutions, and families. Faced with this challenge, the country righted itself. Within a few decades, a range of organizations was created, from the Red Cross, Boy Scouts, and YWCA to Hadassah and the Knights of Columbus and the Urban League and social capital was rebuilt. Putnam calls on Americans to start the process again.

“Annabelle Gurwitch is the child prodigy of the literature on aging. The only downside of this book is that it is bound to deepen your laugh lines.”—Barbara Ehrenreich, author of Nickel and Dimed Actor and humorist Annabelle Gurwitch returns with a wickedly funny book of essays about the indignities faced by femmes d’un certain âge. Whether she is falling in lust at the Genius Bar, coping with her best friend’s assisted suicide, or navigating the extensive—and treacherously expensive—anti-aging offerings at the beauty counter, Gurwitch confronts middle age with candor, wit, and a healthy dose of self-deprecation. Scorchingly honest, surreally and riotously funny, I See You Made an Effort is the ultimate coming-of-middle-age story and according to Bill Maher, "it should be required reading for anyone between the ages of 40 and death. Scratch that—even after death, it's a must read."

American children spend a substantial part of their lives watching television and movies, playing video games, and listening to music containing explicit sex and violence. From Doom and Grand Theft Auto III to Eminem and Marilyn Manson, a strain of the popular culture has become increasingly toxic. One of the most pressing—and controversial—issues facing parents and educators in America today is understanding how exposure to these media affects the social and psychological development and behavior of children and teenagers. In Kid Stuff , Diane Ravitch and Joseph P. Viteritti bring together experts in media studies, child psychology, and public health to assess the dangers posed by "tox pop" to American society. Drawing on thirty years of research, the contributors find convincing evidence that such "entertainment" can harm children and teenagers, despite the self-serving denials of the media industry. Balancing their concerns for the welfare of children with respect for the First Amendment, Kid Stuff furthers the ongoing dialogue about how a democratic society can protect its children from the pernicious extremes of popular media. Contributors: Craig A. Anderson, Jeffrey Jensen Arnett, Peter G. Christenson, Edward Donnerstein, Jeanne B. Funk, Todd Gitlin, Kay S. Hymowitz, Elisabeth Lasch-Quinn, Nell Minow, Newton Minow, Thomas N. Robinson, Stacy L. Smith

There Is No Me Without You is the story of Haregewoin Tefarra, a middle-aged Ethiopian woman of modest means whose home has become a refuge for hundreds of children orphaned by AIDS. It is a story as much about the power of the bond between children and parents as about the epidemic that every year leaves millions of children, mostly healthy themselves, without family. Originally a middle-class woman with a happy family life, Haregewoin fell into a deep depression after the death of her recently married daughter. But then a priest brought her two children, AIDS orphans, with nowhere to go. Unexpectedly, the children thrived, and Haregewoin found herself drawn back into daily life. As word got out, an endless stream of children began to arrive at her door, delivered by dying parents and other relatives who begged for her help, and, pushing against the limits of her home and bank account, she took more and more in. Today, Haregewoin runs a school, a daycare system, and a shelter for sick mothers. Without medication for her charges―some HIV-positive, some uninfected, and some infants trying to fight off the virus, but almost all of whom come to her terrified and malnourished―she forges on, caring for as many as she can handle. Increasingly, she also places them for adoption with families like that of journalist Melissa Fay Greene, who has two children adopted from Ethiopia. In Haregewoin Tefarra's story, Greene gives us an astonishing portrait of a woman fighting a continent-wide epidemic.