With unexpected twists and compelling characters, Don’t Feed the Lion explores how young people grapple with antisemitism, prejudice, allyship, and the courage to speak up.

"This book . . . gives kids the tools to recognize and stand up to hate.” —Jake Tapper, CNN Anchor and New York Times Best-Selling Author

Annie and Theo Kaplan have a family ritual: every Friday night they celebrate Shabbat with their energetic, immigrant grandparents. But this Shabbat, which happens to fall on Annie’s eleventh birthday, isn’t like the others. Thirteen-year-old Theo’s soccer hero—Wes Mitchell—has posted an antisemitic message that quickly goes viral, leaving his parents disgusted, his sister enraged, and Theo himself clobbered by a torrent of confusion, anger, sadness, and a deep desire to just ignore it. 

Antisemitism quickly affects the entire Kaplan family in various ways. Theo’s teammates think Mitchell’s comments were no big deal, and Theo notices an uptick in anti-Jewish commentary around school. A rare act of rebellion draws Annie into the fray, and a new classmate shows that ignoring pain is no way to get through it.

Don’t Feed the Lion asks readers of all backgrounds: What will you do when it’s your turn to choose?

Author Joshua Womack tells the story of those who lived, breathed and sweated in one of Cleveland’s most iconic landmarks. In Cleveland, there’s a place where sweat, steak and friendship collide. Tucked away on a dead-end road in the once-bustling area of Kinsman, the Schvitz is where men have come for decades to let it all hang out. Wrapped in towels and mystery, this nondescript, utilitarian building has captured the hearts and pores of many. There’s a lot of questions around the Schvitz. Is it just a Jewish thing? Why is it where it is? Why do men (and now, more recently, women) love this place?

Screw Capital of the World. Forest City. Home of the Rockford Peaches of A League of Their Own fame. Rockford, Illinois, has many identities, most oriented toward the past. These days, the fastener industry has mostly rusted away, the trees are less plentiful than they once were, and professional women’s baseball is no more. What defines Rockford today?

According to The Rockford Anthology, it’s the people. Those who grew up here, who came by choice or by circumstance, or who decided to leave. People who lost someone or found a voice or built community here.

In this installment of Belt’s City Anthology series, the people of Rockford represent themselves in essays, poetry, and photographs. Here, you’ll meet someone who found the space to start a business after leaving the crowd in Chicago. Academy Award–nominee Bing Liu takes you on a personal tour of his childhood houses and the ghosts that lurk there. A local attorney and activist shares how the city pushed back when ICE wanted to bring a detention center to Rockford. And you’ll learn why New York Times bestselling author Kimberla Lawson Roby, stand-up comedian Ashley Ray-Harris, and an introverted expat living in Taiwan always say they’re from Rockford . . . not Chicago. Whether through stories of growing up or chronicles of fights to make the city better, a sense of Rockford’s present—and future—starts to come into focus.

Since 1950, Dodge Ridge Mountain Resort has been celebrated as a family-run, family-loved destination. It is the closest snow to the San Francisco Bay Area and the Central Valley. Many generations have learned to ski and snowboard on these slopes. There are multiple runs for all levels within the ski area and breathtaking views to enjoy with each turn. Ski legends have been and still are instructors here. An Olympian was raised here. Many people have called Dodge Ridge their happy place and a second home. It is a unique resort that is mighty in the hearts of outdoor enthusiasts. Now it is a year-round destination that includes mountain biking, hiking, and disc golf as the owners continue to expand family fun and fond memories. Dodge Ridge Mountain Resort operates in the Stanislaus National Forest under a special use permit from the US Forest Service.

Tricia O’Brien is also the author of San Francisco’s Bayview Hunter’s Point, San Francisco’s Pacific Heights and Presidio Heights, San Francisco Giants, and Thousand Oaks and Westlake Village. Through photographs and stories from locals, O’Brien shows the resort’s evolution from raw forest land to a year-round recreation playground.

Haunted Hoaxes of the Hoosier State

In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, newspapers were a major source of ghost stories. Paranormal experiences, no matter how mundane, were newsworthy and entertaining—even when they turned out not to be ghosts after all. A coffin holding a “talking corpse” on a train turned out to be a box of bullfrogs. An overturned automobile carrying white paint resulted in a paint-covered “ghost” wandering the streets, and a spiritualist tackled a phantom haunting a cemetery only to find that it was a fraternity pledge all along.

Revealing that the truth can sometimes be as amusing as the legend, author Ashley M. Watson gathers newspaper clippings about Indiana ghost stories that were not ghosts at all.

In Yaphank, New York, hid the greatest threat to the United States war effort during World War II: the American Nazi.

Building on racial and ethnic biases, lack of trust in government and a dose of conspiracies, the German American Bund was able to contribute to a growing American fascist movement. Fueled partially by Nazi Germany’s financing of propaganda, thousands of New Yorkers embraced the ideals of an American Reich through retreats such as Yaphank’s Camp Siegfried, which groomed Nazi sympathizers to be ready for the fascist overthrow of the American republic. In opposition to Nazism, multiple local citizen groups fought to combat the Bund’s organized efforts to undermine America. Author Christopher Verga brings to life the often-overlooked history of New York’s World War II era through a story of Nazi sedition, espionage and citizen resistance to preserve the American republic.

On April 30, 1962, voters in the port city of New London, Connecticut, approved by a large margin a bulldozer approach to urban renewal in an area along Main Street stretching from downtown State Street to Hodges Square by Interstate 95, roughly one mile to the north. The plan required the relocation of more than two thousand people and the demolition of nearly five hundred structures, some dating back to the 1750s. Among the losses were the Neptune Building, the Victory Theater along the Parade, sea captains’ homes on and off Main Street, settlement houses, family-run businesses, the colonial homes of slave traders and the newer homes of freed slaves. New London native and old house enthusiast Bill Morse shares the images and stories from these events that changed a community forever.

In the summer of 2014, a strange thing happened to one of the largest freshwater bodies on the planet: Lake Erie’s western shore turned bright green with toxic algae that could have killed 400,000 Ohioans. Stranger still, it was kind of Patrick Wensink’s fault. Okay, partially his fault, but also to blame was industrial corn farming, greenhouse gasses, the Worst Road In America, his attraction to toxic relationships, Richard Nixon, Charles Dickens, cyanobacteria, high school bullies, and, most importantly, the untold history of the Great Black Swamp: a large swatch of what is now Ohio and Indiana that was once a dangerous, malaria-ridden wetland.

Toxic green algae has become a global problem. While the scientific community scrambles to find a solution, Wensink discovers that the answer might be hiding in his former home, a million acres of table-flat farmland so desolate that even other Ohioans look down upon it.

Great Black Swamp: Toxic Algae, Toxic Relationships, and the Most Interesting Place in America that Nobody’s Ever Heard Of mixes ecological reporting, Midwestern history, and memoir. As Wensink travels through Northwest Ohio, he tells us about his childhood there, his failing marriage, American history, Lake Erie, and the hopeful ecological interventions scientists are performing in the former Great Black Swamp. 

Join author and comedian Mike Bridenstine for a show business story unlike any other. In 2001, an aspiring comedian in Kansas City named Kyle Parris performed what can be described as the most infamous open mic set of all time. And it took place at one of the most infamous clubs in the history of stand-up—Stanford & Sons—which was owned by one of the most notorious and colorful families in comedy history. This book tells the story of that set, as well as the story of the Kansas City comedy scene, from the boom times of the ’80s, when comics like Sinbad and Eddie Griffin got their starts, to the 2000s, when Nikki Glaser got hers. There are a lot of twists, turns and wild characters along the way, including some recent headlines in the Hollywood trades.

Diana Bahnson Overbey, executive director of Historic Bethabara Park, uses archival maps, drawings, portraits, and photographs to tell Bethabara’s story, from 18th-century backcountry settlement to 21st-century historic site.

In 1753, the Moravian Church purchased 98,985 acres of land in the Piedmont of North Carolina and established the town of Bethabara. It grew into a bustling trades town by the 1760s but transitioned into a small farming community in the 19th century, with fields of crops planted next to the 1788 church. Ministers remarked on the muddy, rutted roads and the wayward behaviors of their congregation. Bethabara’s significance as the first Moravian town in North Carolina was not forgotten, however, and in 1903, thousands turned out for the 150th anniversary celebration. That celebratory spirit was kindled again in the 1950s when Edwin Stockton decided Bethabara needed to be preserved for future generations. Acreage containing the original settlement was purchased, and archaeologist Stanley South conducted a groundbreaking archaeological dig during the 1960s to uncover the foundations of the original structures, which had been left undisturbed beneath farmland for over a century. Historic Bethabara Park opened to the public in 1966. Today, the site covers 183 acres and includes four restored historic buildings as well as a reconstructed village and gardens.