This week's top 5 long reads

In this week's issue:

• Interracial persecution in Michigan in the 1960s
• The cruelty that occurs in the chickens we eat
• How photo shuffle saved one man from loss
• I go through life without knowing that I am neurodivergent.
• The profound technique of forging handmade knives

Zach Stanton Politico Magazine | December 22, 2023 | 17,959 words

The starting point for this mammoth feature by Zach Stanton is a little-known incident from the summer of 1967. A white mob tried their best to drive an interracial couple, Calad and Ruby Bailey, out of the suburban Michigan neighborhood where they lived. I recently bought a new house. Drawing on interviews, archives, and testimony from journalists, Stanton documents the horrors endured by Mr. and Mrs. Bailey and his daughter, including cross-burnings, racist graffiti, and harassment by vigilante PTA moms. Explaining. There are transgender youth in schools today. But that's not the whole story, or even the half. In cinematic detail, Stanton shows how the battle for the Bailey family home spilled over into Washington, D.C., where the advent of republicanism as we know it today It shows that even with the severe conservative backlash that resulted, it may have shaped federal policy for the better. . I devoured this thick slice of forgotten history and was moved by the scene at the end where Stanton directly addresses his source to Ruby, now 95 years old, widowed, and still living in the house she refuses to leave. One source “commends your principles in the face of imminent danger,” Stanton wrote. Another said, “We want people to understand that America is not just a story of bad things that happened. It's a story of people trying to make things better.” Some neighbors watched from their windows but did nothing. She feels embarrassed now. “I asked her what she would say if she had the chance, and she burst into tears as half a century's worth of pain poured out,” Stanton told Ruby. —SD

Boyce Upholt | Noema | December 19, 2023 | 3,954 words

Last week I grilled chicken. I've eaten chicken probably three times since then. I'm careful when buying, cooking, and eating chicken, and as a former vegetarian, I'd like to think I'm doing so with care, but even as I do, I find that something takes my back. I have a suspicion that it may be damaged beyond repair. Phrases like “free range,” “heritage breeds,” and “regenerative practices” mean little.voice upholt Noema This story did nothing to dispel that suspicion of mine, and I say that as a compliment. The quest he refers to in the headline is not currently underway. That happened a long time ago. And while we certainly need “better” in the way we raise and slaughter animals for consumption, sorry, meat eaters, we don't need the euphemism here, but we're not saying “better” here. ' is meant in an industrial sense. It means bigger. Much bigger. Because they are so large, decades of intensive and meticulous breeding have created domesticated chickens that are virtually unable to survive on their own. PETA's videos exposing factory farming practices are all well and good, but as Upholt writes, the real brutality lies far upstream. “In other words, brutality is hardwired into our genes.” He's not trying to make you feel guilty for eating meat. He does it himself. (And, as he deftly explains, there's really no viable solution to the current situation.) Rather, we follow the chicken's trajectory from its first domestication to its current fate. , by doing so in engaging, nonjudgmental prose, he's simply letting you know exactly what happened. A winner, a winner, a thought-provoking dinner. —PR

Charlie Worzel | The Atlantic | January 5, 2024 | 1,500 words

I'm the type of person who, when watching a disaster movie, anxiously asks: dog Are you okay? ” So normally I avoid stories where the dog might not actually be okay. But I overcame my fear and talked about his dog Peggy (because it can be traumatic). I worked on Charlie Worzel's essay about the death of a dog (which is also the name of a dog) and was rewarded with a beautiful and heartwarming piece. is filled with endless photos: photos of pets sleeping. Once it had passed, it was “injected with new vitality.” Peggy arrived. When the time comes for her to leave, Worzel's depiction of grief is powerful. To remember Peggy, he tried out Photo His Shuffle, a feature on his phone that automatically changes the wallpaper to a different photo from his camera roll.Set parameters “Pet” Peggy became the star of his wallpaper. Photo her shuffle is senseless. Sometimes they choose Instagram-worthy shots, but they're more likely to be drawn from a slew of outtakes, showing “chaotic, blurry stripes of fur and tongue.” Dynamic shot. It's real. As Worzel explains, “Grief is not linear, and neither is photo shuffling.” Every day he recalls another trip with Peggy, or just a “normal Wednesday.” In this way, his cell phone becomes a source of reflection and a teacher of grief, rather than a constant distraction. Reading this lovely little essay made me realize that dogs sometimes die, and that's okay. —C.W.

Review by Emily Stoddard Kenyon | January 8, 2024 | 5,463 words

As a child, Emily Stoddard was called gifted, “the most invisible curse that can be placed on a child who already feels out of place.”for kenyon review, Stoddard describes what it was like to live her life before being diagnosed with ADHD in her mid-30s, being able to have a conversation, work and walk down the street in her own shoes. I look back on how difficult it was. In my favorite part of this piece, her deft, deliberate prose mimics the constant chatter of her feverish mind. She also uses her third-person perspective to detach from herself and when she feels it's all over she steps outside of her body. excessively. This is a very personal piece about being neurodivergent (and not knowing it). The need to wear a mask all the time, the feeling that it's all in your head, the “sometimes infuriating, sometimes inspiring” way that your internal motors never work. Stop. —CLR

Lawrence Gonzalez Chicago Magazine | January 9, 2024 | 6,814 words

“What makes a good knife?” Former chef Sam Goldbrock was “swallowed by the mysteries of metal and fire and power” as a knifesmith in Skokie, Illinois, trying to answer a seemingly simple question. . In this great profile, chicago magazine, author Lawrence Gonzalez invites us to order a knife from Goldbloch and follow the master at work. Gonzalez does something that few writers can do. He uses his keen powers of observation to transform industrial spaces into places of magical transformation. Please read this work and see the tangerine flame. Hear the roar of the forge, feel its heat, and enjoy the alchemy of a small knifesmith's apprentice in 6,000 words. “Smoke rose to the ceiling, and a searing sound filled the room like a gabion.'' “This is the moment of truth,'' Sam said, holding the tongs and looking away from the smoke. “This Is When It Becomes a Knife.” You'll enjoy the science and history depicted in detailed scene work, but the most beautiful thing about this story is the story of forging a handmade knife and the extraordinary in the ordinary. —K.S.