Throughout 2024, biographies consistently stole the show. From renowned authors to heads of state, game-changing activists and cultural icons, these 12 illuminating profiles delighted and inspired us.
Throughout 2024, biographies consistently stole the show. From renowned authors to heads of state, game-changing activists and cultural icons, these 12 illuminating profiles delighted and inspired us.
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It’s clear from the jump of Jasmin Graham’s marvelous Sharks Don’t Sink: Adventures of a Rogue Shark Scientist why the author feels such a kinship with the titular fish. Sharks, who have survived five mass extinctions, are survivors. As Graham narrates her journey to becoming a marine biologist, from a childhood spent fishing with her Black family in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina; to founding Minorities in Shark Sciences, an organization that funds research opportunities for people of color; to becoming a “rogue” scientist, we see that Graham, too, is a survivor resistant to easy classification.

In conversational prose that makes marine biology both accessible and exciting to a layperson, Graham describes the slings and arrows of shark research as a Black woman who has an infectious curiosity in and reverence for the natural world and refuses to be pushed out of it by the white men who still dominate shark science. As some of these men devolve into a screaming match about affirmative action at a professional conference, Graham locks eyes with the only other person of color, thinking, “What on earth have we gotten ourselves into?” Five years later, Graham had enough. In 2022, after questioning if she should leave science entirely, Graham became a rogue scientist, without a permanent academic affiliation. Like her beloved sharks, she adapted.

Along with Graham’s abiding love of all things oceanic, the other most potent force in Sharks Don’t Sink is her persistent belief in community. Graham pays tribute to the many scientists who paved the way for her, from a professor who offered her master’s level work while she was still an undergraduate, to the field-defining work of Japanese American shark researcher Dr. Eugenie Clark. This careful tending by her community has allowed Graham to thrive as a “Black, proud, nervous, and nerdy” scientist who has become one of the most prominent voices in marine conservation.

The cartilaginous skeletons of sharks have made it nearly impossible to leave fossil records.  Likewise, the history and triumphs of too many Black women scientists have been lost. Graham’s story of charting her own course is both an important record and a delight. “You don’t need to change the world,” Graham writes, as she thinks back on the group of Black friends she made as a child at her mostly white magnet school. “You just need to change your small piece of the world.”

 

In Sharks Don’t Sink, marine biologist Jasmin Graham pushes for diversity in her field while also celebrating her deep, abiding love for the titular fish.
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Peter Houlahan’s Reap the Whirlwind: Violence, Race, Justice, and the Story of Sagon Penn recounts a historic 1985 crime that would irrevocably change Southern California. At its swirling center is Sagon Penn, a 23-year-old Black Buddhist, martial artist and community mentor who had never been in any legal trouble until two white patrol cops, Donovan Jacobs and Tom Riggs, followed a pickup truck carrying seven young Black men, some of them teenagers, up a dirt road.

The setting is a growing San Diego in flux. A progressive new police chief hoped to calm the city’s simmering racial tensions and address the disproportionate number of cops killed in the line of duty. Both crises came to a head when Jacobs incorrectly fingered the young men in the truck to be gang members—including the driver, Penn. An argument escalated into a brutal physical altercation, during which the cops reportedly used racial slurs. Within three minutes, Penn grabbed Riggs’ service weapon and fatally shot him. Then Penn shot both Jacobs and a civilian who was riding along with him, and fled the scene in a squad car.

Reap the Whirlwind’s novelistic narrative style delivers emotional weight as Houlahan, a master storyteller, plots out the cataclysmic event and its aftermath. Houlahan covers all angles, from skewed news reporting on the shooting to the inner workings of the judicial system to the messy interpersonal drama that followed Penn, whose psyche suffered devastating consequences. Though Penn is undoubtedly the focus of the book, Houlahan offers textured characterizations of significant players, like Penn’s lawyer, Milton Silverman Jr.; defense investigator Bob McDaniel; and Sara Pina-Ruiz, the only credible witness. When the story develops into a full-fledged courtroom drama, Houlahan remains an impartial, careful observer and rarely offers his own opinion, which allows readers to form their own conclusions and develop a personal investment in the case and those closest to it.

A topical, piercing story about how perspectives on law enforcement and innocence shift depending on who you are, Reap the Whirlwind shows how police brutality and racial profiling impact Black victims far beyond the actual incident—even when they make it out alive.

The piercing Reap the Whirlwind chronicles a historic 1985 homicide, and shows how perspectives on law enforcement and innocence shift depending on who you are.
The dynamic, photo-heavy Parachute shows the titular brand’s influence on fashion and culture.

Brandon Keim’s thought-provoking, beautifully written Meet the Neighbors: Animal Minds and Life in a More-Than-Human World is perfect for those who love to read al fresco, surrounded by the very creatures the author urges us to view with curiosity, compassion and kinship.

From adorable bumblebees to fearsome grizzly bears and everything—well, everyone—in between, Keim is a staunch advocate for viewing animals as fellows, and not just those we’ve brought into our homes: “Even as we recognize our beloved pets as thinking, feeling beings with a first-person experience of life, and grapple—however inconsistently—with the selfhood of animals used for food and research, that’s not how we’re socialized to regard wild animals.”

So what if, in addition to cats and dogs plus “a select few stars, such as chimpanzees and dolphins,” we acknowledge that raccoons, coyotes and salamanders are just as capable of thinking and feeling as we are? There’s plenty of scientific evidence that wild creatures are self-aware and think strategically, Keim explains, even if it’s not always in a form we recognize. To wit, earthworms can distinguish between soil displaced by their own slithering and the push of a shovel, coyotes can invent games, and starlings are more relaxed after having bathed—just like us!

In addition to translating copious scientific revelations with reverence and aplomb, Meet the Neighbors sheds light on damaging biases in conventional wisdom, such as the value of instinct. ’Tis true, humans are encouraged to follow their instincts to boost awareness, safety or success. However, Keim notes, “When applied to animals, it’s used dismissively. Then instinctive means thoughtless, the opposite of reasoned, a lesser form of intelligence than our own.”

The journalist and author of 2017’s The Eye of the Sandpiper also delves into animal rights philosophy, hunting regulations, wildlife management and more. Through it all, Keim exhorts readers to consider: “How might an awareness of animal minds shape the ways we understand them and, ultimately, how we live with them on this shared, precious planet?” Meet the Neighbors offers an edifying, awe-inspiring start.

Brandon Keim’s awe-inspiring Meet the Neighbors exhorts us to consider that all animals, from dolphins to salamanders, are just as capable of thinking and feeling as we are.
Mississippi Swindle is the shocking true story of how public welfare funds were used to finance the extravagant lifestyles of an elite few.

Artist Komail Aijazuddin creates oil paintings and installations glowing with vivid color, religious iconography and simmering sensuality. Now, he’s expressing himself in a new way: His debut memoir, Manboobs: A Memoir of Musicals, Visas, Hope, and Cake, is a smart, funny and moving account of his fascinating life thus far.

The author grew up in Lahore, Pakistan, “a repressive place where girls didn’t feel safe, you couldn’t kiss anyone in public, and there wasn’t a single Burger King.” Thanks to a cherished VCR and parents who appreciated musical theater—“in the name of The Fiddler, The Phantom, and The Wiz, amen”—he immersed himself in dance movies and Disney cartoons galore (Romy, Michele, Buffy and Oprah earn fond shoutouts, too).

Such on-screen delights provided a welcome escape from Aijazuddin’s formative years at the local all-boys school, where he felt shame over his secret gayness and the “manboobs” that infused him with a “deep sense of physical betrayal in my body.” Aijazuddin kept secrets about his heart at home, too, and dreamed about moving to the “gay promised land” of America, where he could finally embrace his true self.

Close friendships with “other girly boys at school” and his dedication to making art sustained Aijazuddin until his talent earned him spots at NYU and the Pratt Institute in New York City. Alas, post-9/11 prejudice against South Asian people made this new home not nearly as easy or welcoming as he’d hoped. But despite his disillusionment, Aijazuddin didn’t give up on his now-adjusted American dreams, which required him to become a resident of New York. After learning that accomplished artists may be granted immigration visas, he moved back to Lahore and began creating a substantial body of work.

Readers will both root for the author to carve out a life in Pakistan that’s fulfilling and safe, and cheer when he becomes a citizen of the United States at last. And they’ll revel in the powerful prose and writerly panache that makes Manboobs a winning and heartfelt debut rife with plentiful humor, sharply observed commentary on religion and politics, potent musings on identity, and an inspiring message from one man’s path to hard-won self-acceptance: “I choose happiness over hate, freedom over falsehood, and celebration over self-censorship.”

 

Komail Aijazuddin’s Manboobs is a winning and heartfelt debut memoir, rife with clever humor and an inspiring message of hard-won self-acceptance.
Weaving history with mystery, Karen Kirsten uncovers her family’s traumatic experiences during the Holocaust in her remarkable memoir, Irena’s Gift.
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It’s not a total mystery who killed Gauri Lankesh, a hard-charging local journalist and activist in the South Indian city of Bangalore who was assassinated in 2017.

Lankesh, the daughter of a famous Indian writer and publisher, was an aggressive critic of India’s right-wing religious groups, which have grown in power, prominence and violence under Prime Minister Narendra Modi and his ruling party.

While a few alternate theories are proffered about her death, I Am on the Hit List: A Journalist’s Murder and the Rise of Autocracy in India is not really a whodunit. Instead, it’s an obituary of a complicated woman and a portrait of a country’s descent into chaos, hatred and lawlessness. (Don’t worry: You still find out whodunit.)

The assassinated journalist’s life is both inspiring and perplexing, as her understated career in niche local tabloids blossoms into martyrdom and legend upon her death. Lankesh was fearless—some argued reckless—in her opposition to government corruption, creeping religious fervor and the subjugation of women and minority groups. She fought with her dear friends in the pages of her newspaper, and her antagonism of powerful forces had those same friends and family worrying for her safety. And for good reason. It’s a story of complex family relationships, both within the Lankesh family specifically and Indian civil society more generally.

As the story of Lankesh’s life and death unfolds, Rollo Romig, an American journalist with marital ties to Bangalore, sends the reader on several tangential journeys of varying levels of relevance: the story of Christian apostle “doubting” Thomas’ maybe-apocryphal mission to India, the history of the restaurant industry in India, a dazzling description of Bangalore’s astonishing book district. But the author’s reporting about the case has clearly been relentless; he traveled multiple times to the region and interviewed countless figures with connections to Lankesh, modern Indian politics and the case itself.

The complex ethnopolitics of the region and the country offer a disturbing but vivid backdrop for the murder. India’s retreat from pluralism and growing embrace of bigotry and oppression mean that Lankesh’s story is just one of untold many of murder, political violence and religious strife in a desperate country.

 

I Am on the Hit List pairs relentless reporting and historical context in a vivid exploration of a fearless Indian journalist’s assassination.
For four decades, courtroom sketch artist Jane Rosenberg has portrayed the famous and infamous at high-profile trials. She tells all in Drawn Testimony.

According to numerous surveys, organized religion is on the decline in the United States, and thus, Pulitzer Prize-winner Eliza Griswold’s Circle of Hope: A Reckoning With Love, Power, and Justice in an American Church comes at a germane time. In it, the New Yorker reporter follows the fortunes of one radical evangelical church, illuminating both the strength of its powerful, inclusive teachings and the weakness revealed when it’s battered by internal strife.

Beginning in 2019, Griswold (Amity and Prosperity) immersed herself in Circle of Hope, a church composed of three congregations in Philadelphia and one in southern New Jersey, and spiritual home to more than 700 members. Circle of Hope was the creation of Rod and Gwen White, a pair of Southern California baby boomers and self-described “Jesus freaks,” who came east in 1996 to establish what Rod called “an outpost of his counter rebellion against all the coercion going on in the name of Jesus.” In their case, Griswold writes, it meant aspiring to “live out Jesus’s teachings on love and liberation, building the Kingdom of Heaven on Earth by rejecting capitalism, redistributing resources, and addressing social ills.”

But as 2020 unfolded, Circle of Hope found itself besieged by twin crises: the coronavirus pandemic and the murder of George Floyd. The latter tragedy launched the church, whose membership was 75% to 85% white, on a nobly intentioned but ultimately deeply divisive project of instilling anti-racism as one of its defining values. Through countless meetings, services and searching conversations, Griswold skillfully observes the church’s four thoughtful, earnest young pastors—Ben White (son of the founders), Julie Hoke, Rachel Sensenig and Jonny Rashid, its only leader of color—as they grapple with that painful issue and one another.

In portraying Circle of Hope’s struggles, Griswold manages to remain both sympathetic and objective, as she reveals how difficult it can be for well-intentioned people to actualize their exalted ideals. Circle of Hope is the intimate story of one small church, but it carries within it profoundly relevant lessons for all people of faith.

 

Eliza Griswold’s Circle of Hope is the intimate story of one small, progressive church, but it carries profoundly relevant lessons for all people of faith.

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