In Black Women’s Health in the Age of Hip Hop and HIV/AIDS, Nghana tamu Lewis chronicles the work of five black women creators to demonstrate how hip hop feminism operates as a vital tool for interpreting and building knowledge about the lived experiences of black women and girls. Between 1996 and 2006, novelists Sapphire and Sister Souljah, television producer Mara Brock Akil, and playwrights Nikkole Salter and Danai Gurira addressed the neglect of black women’s health in mainstream biomedical and public health discourses. At a time when responses to the HIV/AIDS epidemic largely focused on gay white men, Lewis argues, these creators deployed the strategies of hip hop feminism to frame and untangle issues of self-care, risk, and the ways that caregiving roles place black women and girls at disproportionate risk of adverse health outcomes. Building on previous intersectionality and social justice advocacy scholarship, Lewis argues that Sapphire, Souljah, Brock Akil, and Salter and Gurira both documented the effects of the epidemic on black women and girls and equipped the masses with solutions-oriented responses to the crisis, thus intervening in ways that mainstream biomedical and public health research has yet to do.

In this searching study, Nghana Lewis offers a close reading of the works and private correspondences, essays, and lectures of five southern white women writers: Julia Peterkin, Gwen Bristow, Caroline Gordon, Willa Cather, and Lillian Smith. At the core of this work is a sophisticated reexamination of the myth of southern white womanhood.

Lewis overturns the conventional argument that white women were passive and pedestal-bound. Instead, she argues that these figures were complicit in the day-to-day dynamics of power and authorship and stood to gain much from these arrangements at the expense of others.

At the same time that her examination of southern mythology explodes received wisdom, it is also a journey of self-discovery. As Lewis writes in her preface, “As a proud daughter of the South, I have always been acutely aware of the region’s rich cultural heritage, folks, and foodstuffs. How could I not be? I was born and reared in Lafayette, Louisiana, where an infant’s first words are not ‘da-da’ and ‘ma-ma’ but ‘crawfish boil’ and ‘fais-do-do.’ . . . I have also always been keenly familiar with its volatile history.” Where these conflicting images—and specifically the role of white southern women as catalysts, vindicators, abettors, and antagonists—meet forms the crux of this study. As such, this study of the South by a daughter of the South offers a distinctive perspective that illuminates the texts in novel and provocative ways.