Carson McCullers’s debut novel, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, is published.
On June 4, 1940, the day her debut novel The Heart is a Lonely Hunterwas published, 23-year-old Carson McCullers was alone in New York City. She’d come with her husband to promote the book, but he was off sailing with a friend. “She knew almost no one in New York except the kindly older woman acquaintance who had found her the room,” writes Mary V. Dearborn.
“She was nearly penniless, but she had to scrape together enough money to buy something to wear to a meeting with her editor the next week. June 4 was a pause. On one side were Carson’s years growing up in provincial Columbus, Georgia, and the succession of Southern towns to which her husband’s job had called them. On the other side, she assumed, would be the exciting life of an author, living glamorously in New York City, meeting the writers, artists, and musicians who had peopled her fantasies.”
The Heart is a Lonely Hunter was hotly anticipated, despite—or because of—its strangeness. “It did not fit any of the accepted and expected categories of mainstream fiction,” Dearborn explains. “It was neither a love story nor a bildungsroman, it did not have characters whom readers could recognize as like themselves, it did not have a happy ending, and it did not have a single strong narrative line.” It was a book about misfits, written by a misfit. But, importantly, McCullers was a young misfit, and publishing has always loved nothing better than a wunderkind. “Readers were flabbergasted to learn that this tour de force was the work of someone so young and, despite her gender-ambiguous name, a woman,” writes Dearborn. “It was hard to believe she knew so much about the ‘lonely hearts’ of others, said one critic. She seemed sui generis, unique, and as it turned out, as odd as some of her characters.” Richard Wright compared her favorably to William Faulkner and Sherwood Anderson and Ernest Hemingway, and wrote that “whether you will want to read the book depends upon the extent to which you value the experience of discovering the stale and familiar terms of everyday life bathed in a rich and strange meaning, devoid of pettiness and sentimentality.” A lot of people wanted to read it. The novel became a bestseller, and McCullers, at least for a time, was offered entry into the artist’s life of her dreams. “I became an established literary figure overnight and I was much too young to understand what happened to me or the responsibility it entailed,” she said later. “I was a bit of a holy terror.” It’s hard to hold it against her, though. By the age of 30 she would have had two major strokes; she died much too young, at 50, after a brain hemorrhage, leaving behind years of literary potential along with her enduring classics.
Since New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani stepped into office in January, he’s unveiled ambitious policies that aim to address systemic issues that many leaders before him often neglected. Now, his administration has launched a new “Block by Block” housing plan to confront the city’s deep racial inequities in housing.
The proposal focuses heavily on the Bronx, where Black residents disproportionately face unsafe buildings, displacement, and limited affordable housing access. Mamdani argues the housing crisis is inseparable from systemic racism, pledging stronger tenant protections, aggressive action against negligent landlords, and major investments in affordable housing. He spoke with us in an exclusive interview about why “Block by Block” matters and why it’s time for political leaders to address the elephant in the room: protecting and uplifting Black and other disenfranchised groups through real policy.
The Root: During your 2025 campaign, some Black voters voiced concerns that they wouldn’t be a priority. Although “Block by Block” addresses some of those concerns, targeted at the New York City Housing Authority (NYCHA) and Black communities in the Bronx, how do you continue to ensure the most disenfranchised people have direct access and remain a priority?
Mayor Zohran Mamdani: I think the cost-of-living crisis is the most pressing issue in our city. And it is a crisis that every New Yorker faces. It’s also a crisis that has not been borne evenly across the city. Black New Yorkers have faced such pressure to afford life in this city that we have seen manifest in 200,000 Black New Yorkers being pushed out of the city, the population of Black children and teenagers declining by 19% over a recent period of time. It is incumbent upon us, if we want to fight to continue to preserve “the gorgeous mosaic,” as [former Mayor] David Dinkins once described our city as, to invest in everything that we can to make this city more affordable.
“Block by Block” is a vision to not only preserve the little affordability that we have in this city, but also hold on to that affordability to ensure that it becomes a reality for far more New Yorkers. We know that public housing is one of the few places where working-class New Yorkers can find a way to make ends meet in the city, yet it’s one of the few places that has been left out of any conversation around housing for decades. And that’s why we’ve made the decision to invest $5.6 billion into public housing, which is the largest investment any mayor has made in decades, so that we can actually ensure that we not only continue to provide this kind of affordability, but that it comes with a habitability as well, so that New Yorkers are not forced to accept conditions that frankly go beyond what any person should have to agree to.
The Root: If you can do this in 100 days, why do you think past mayors and other political leaders across the U.S. haven’t addressed disparities in housing on a larger scale? Are there any risks involved with prioritizing people of color?
Mayor Mamdani: I’ll give you an example of public housing: The Reagan administration made sweeping cuts to public housing. It began a chapter in our city and our country’s history of disinvesting in one of the most critical ways for working-class people to afford to live in the cities they help build.
Too often, in our politics, we’ve cited the immense cost as a justification for inaction. We have said, “Well, NYCHA has a capital backlog of about $80 billion; therefore, anything is just a drop in the bucket. So we are going to continue to rely on the federal government to take the lead here. We know full well that Republican administrations and Democratic administrations have not addressed this issue, that waiting is not an answer. And so we have decided to take the lead ourselves and show that the city is committed to this in a way that goes beyond the rhetoric of past administrations and starts to translate that into a new reality for current NYCHA residents.
The Root: Outside of “Block by Block,” what are you most proud of in the first 100 days of your administration?
Mayor Mamdani: I am most proud of our vision for Universal Childcare. We delivered more than $1 billion, thanks to a partnership with Governor [ Kathy] Hochul. And that is money that allowed us to add 2,000 additional seats for childcare for three-year-olds and, now for the first time in New York City history, free childcare for two-year-olds. And the reason I’m most proud of this is that in New York City, childcare costs $20,000 per child, and that’s considered a good deal. And when we deliver universal and high-quality childcare at no cost to families across the city, it transforms their ability to build a life here, and that’s exactly what we want to be doing.
Pride Month is an annual celebration of the many contributions made by the LGBTQ+ community to history, society and cultures worldwide. In most places, Pride is celebrated throughout the month of June each year in commemoration of its roots in the Stonewall Riots of June 1969. However, in some areas—especially in the Southern Hemisphere—pride events occur at other times of the year.
Origins of Pride Month
The roots of the gay rights movement go back to the early 1900s, when a handful of individuals in North America and Europe created gay and lesbian organizations such as the the Society for Human Rights, founded by Henry Gerber in Chicago in the 1920s.
Following World War II, a small number of groups like the Mattachine Society and the Daughters of Bilitis published gay- and lesbian-positive newsletters and grew more vocal in demanding recognition for, and protesting discrimination against, gays and lesbians. In 1966, for example, members of the Mattachine Society held a “sip-in” protest at Julius, a bar in New York City, where they demanded drinks after announcing that they were gay, in violation of local laws against serving alcohol to gays and lesbians.
Despite some progress in the postwar era, basic civil rights were largely denied to gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people—until one night in June, 1969, when the gay rights movement took a furious step forward with a series of violent riots in New York City.
Stonewall Riots
https://www.history.com/articles/pride-month (this is one of those videos embedded on the page, beneath is a bit about it, then more about the riots. Go see the video, if you like!)
How the Stonewall Riots Sparked a Movement
The 1969 Stonewall Inn Riots sparked the beginning of the gay rights movement in America. Learn how.
As was common practice in many cities, the New York Police Department would occasionally raid bars and restaurants where gays and lesbians were known to gather. This occurred on June 28, 1969, when the NYPD raided the Stonewall Inn, a bar in the Greenwich Village neighborhood of Manhattan.
When the police aggressively dragged patrons and employees out of the bar, several people fought back against the NYPD, and a growing crowd of angry locals gathered in the streets. The confrontations quickly escalated and sparked six days of protests and violent clashes with the NYPD outside the Stonewall Inn on Christopher Street and throughout the neighborhood.
By the time the Stonewall Riots ended on July 2, 1969, the gay rights movement went from being a fringe issue largely ignored by politicians and the media to front-page news worldwide.
I am really becomeing in favor of this person for governor. I love how he talks about trans kids and how he wants them to feel included in society. He said that because of the risk of suicide and self harm if these children are excluded he won’t do that to them. He is not giving an inch on trans issues. As for advantages or not as Emma and Sam discuss there is a basket ball player so tall that he can stand on his toes and put the ball in the net. Is that an unfair advantage? Hugs
Trumpeter Robyn Steward thought clubs weren’t for her until she encountered Fabric’s accessible upgrade – the new home for her radically inclusive, space-themed night
Working the crowd … Robyn playing at one of her Robyn’s Rocket nights at Fabric. Photograph: Siân O’Connor
Until May last year, trumpeter Robyn Steward had never been in a nightclub space, save for playing trumpet with Lancaster duo the Lovely Eggs at London’s Heaven, and a few nights in a university hall that doubled as a lunch room. Steward is autistic and has multiple disabilities including cerebral palsy. “Sometimes strobes can trigger migraines for me, or feel overwhelming,” she says. “I feel like my body’s a bit lost.”
When she wanted to see a gig at Fabric nightclub in London, she asked a friend to go with her as a carer. “I was amazed at how accessible it was,” she says. Subtle touches integrate multiple access needs into the space. “The mezzanine level meant that I didn’t have the strobes in my face. There was a rail that I could hold on to, and there was seating opposite the balcony so I could sit and watch the gig.” She also noticed Fabric’s recently upgraded sensory dancefloor, which deliberately transforms sound into tactile vibrations to better cater for the hearing impaired. “I could see that the lights were strobing and everything, but I felt safe,” Steward says.
Inspired, she contacted Fabric to see if they might host her long-running, space-themed experimental music night Robyn’s Rocket, which since 2017 has been booking noise bands, DJs and improv groups in London venues from Deptford to Dalston. While it champions disabled and autistic performers and audiences, Robyn’s Rocket is principally about integration. “People with and without learning disabilities – and autistic and non-autistic people – should spend time together, where there isn’t any kind of power dynamic,” she says. Her aim is to create a space “where people are all just having a really nice time together”.
We meet in a music studio in Deptford, south London, the day before the Rocket’s first night at Fabric. Steward, 39, is relentlessly upbeat; straight after the interview, she heads to the shops where a friend helps her figure out an unspecific drinks rider request. It’s in keeping with the Rocket spirit of clarifying what might usually be assumed or implied. Online, she supplies detailed visual storyboards of how an evening will progress. All artists fill out detailed tech and access riders. Every box and cable is given a name, shape or colour. All Rocket gigs are livestreamed and timings are strictly adhered to so those streaming the gig don’t get lost. “The schedule, once it’s agreed, it’s pretty non-negotiable,” Steward says.
On arrival, everyone is presented with a silver rocket-shaped badge, angled up, across or down as a visual barometer of how much communication they’re comfortable with. Fabric is adorned with more than 100 posters: signposts always feature words and shapes and are populated with cartoon characters, human and alien. Silver foil covers the stage, and live projections from visual artist Rucksack Cinema are suitably astral. “You’re into new planets, are you?” crows the frontman of “cosmic dross” band Henge.
For Steward, the space theme is also about imagining an equitable new world. “You might meet somebody here with a learning disability, or an autistic person. You might not. But everyone is equal in this space.” The Robyn’s Rocket nights echo the aesthetic and political spirit of Afro-futurist jazz visionary Sun Ra and his Arkestra. “The idea that you can create a different dimension, almost a different planetary experience, at these events is very consistent,” says Mark Williams, co-founder of the Deptford-based arts charity Heart N Soul (where Steward is an associate artist). “It’s using imagination and creativity to free people, and to exist on a different kind of plane.”
Steward was born in Suffolk, and took to music when a tutor brought instruments to her primary school: “I really wanted to go on the trumpet, but they ran out of time, so I spent a whole week blowing raspberries.” The tutor returned for an assembly the next week, and Steward immediately requested the trumpet. “I played a clear note straight away.”
As an infant, Steward used Makaton (a language that uses a combination of signs, symbols and speech) to communicate until she attended Musical Keys, a group for children with special needs, aged three: “It was song based, and so I learned to speak that way – there was a lot of repetition.” Once she learned to speak, she wouldn’t stop; her parents got her a Dictaphone for long car journeys: “They’d say, ‘You can talk to this Dictaphone as much as you want, but leave us alone in the front.’ I would make my own radio shows that would come out sounding like Alan Partridge’s Knowing Me, Knowing You.”
Unlike her East Anglian counterpart, Steward is an excellent, direct communicator. The first half of her career was spent delivering autism training, speaking at conferences, and in research. She’s also written books such as The Autism-Friendly Guide to Self Employment. But, by age 30, Steward became “very conscious that I needed to think about what I want to spend the rest of my life doing”. She had recently learned to improvise on trumpet through the big band at a local adult education centre, and seeing a gig by trumpeter Andy Diagram (who plays the trumpet with guitar pedals) proved crucial to developing her own art. With the help of Heart N Soul, she built Robyn’s Rocket up from a small residency in Deptford to a regular slot at Cafe Oto in east London, later inviting musicians including Alabaster DePlume, Coby Sey and Mica Levi to perform.
The vocalist Seaming To played a Rocket night in 2024. “More and more friends of mine are realising that they have neurodivergent aspects,” Seaming To says. “And quite a lot of them find it really awkward coming out to noisy places. At Robyn’s night, you can admit to feeling awkward, and it’s all acceptable.”
On the night, Steward dons her trademark purple fedora and doubles up as space trumpeter and energetic MC. “I’ve done this gig partly because I just wanted to put Henge on,” she says, beaming from the stage. For all the very human practicalities of Robyn’s Rocket, Steward still has celestial ambitions. “And why wouldn’t you want to put them on in a homemade spaceship?”
On Tuesday, Maine Secretary of State Shenna Bellows ruled that a proposed ballot initiative banning trans students from school sports and bathrooms will not appear before voters this November. The billionaire-funded campaign initially submitted 79,692 signatures—well over the 67,682 required to qualify—and the Secretary of State’s office certified the question for the ballot in March. But indications soon emerged that the signature-gathering process was riddled with improper procedures and, in at least one documented case and potentially many others, outright forgery. After a court remand, an evidentiary hearing, and a sworn-testimony review of the petitions, 12,542 signatures were invalidated, leaving the campaign 532 short of the threshold. Barring an appeal—which is likely though its success is far from certain—transgender students in Maine can rest a little easier this election cycle.
The infractions are striking. One out-of-state circulator left his petition forms unattended at a Topsham polling place on Election Day—twice—allowing voters to sign without a witness present, in direct violation of Maine law. Another circulator did the same at a Saco polling place, leaving her table for extended periods while crowds of voters signed unwitnessed petitions. When asked under oath whether she had destroyed the unwitnessed forms as required, she said yes—but a photograph submitted into evidence showed one of those forms was in fact turned in for validation. Most troubling of all, an out-of-state signature gatherer paid per signature submitted forms that appear to contain outright forgeries: one voter listed on her petition testified under oath that she had never signed it and had never even heard of the initiative. After the Oxford town clerk flagged additional suspicious signatures, an Elections Division review compared every name on the circulator’s forms against voter registration applications—and concluded that every single one of her validated signatures should have been thrown out as signed by another person.
Based on the evidence, Bellows ruled Tuesday that the initiative had failed to qualify for the November ballot. The decision marked a reversal of her own March certification, when her office initially determined that the petition contained enough valid signatures to move forward. That earlier ruling was challenged in Cumberland County Superior Court by three Maine voters, who alleged that thousands of signatures had been collected in violation of state law. In April, Justice Deborah Cashman agreed that the original review had been incomplete and remanded the case back to the Secretary of State’s office for further factfinding, ordering a new determination of validity within thirty days. That process produced the May 12 evidentiary hearing—where witnesses, including town clerks and voters whose names appeared on petitions, testified under oath—and ultimately the decision invalidating thousands more signatures than the initial review had caught. Bellows adopted that recommendation in full.
The initiative would have done far more than what its sports-focused branding suggested. It would have defined a person’s sex for school purposes as “a person’s biological status as male or female recorded at birth on the person’s original birth certificate”—a definition that would have stripped transgender students of legal recognition in Maine schools. It would have required public schools to “maintain separate restrooms, locker rooms, shower rooms, and other private spaces for each sex,” extending the ban well beyond athletics and into every gendered space in a school building. It would have created a private right of action allowing any student to sue their school for “direct injury” suffered from a violation of the act, effectively turning every transgender student’s presence in a bathroom or on a sports team into potential litigation. And it would have specifically carved transgender students out of the Maine Human Rights Act.
The anti-trans signature drive was not a grassroots effort. It was bankrolled by Illinois billionaire Richard Uihlein, the co-founder of Uline office supplies, who donated $800,000 to fund the entire effort. Uihlein has given more than $250 million to political causes since 2016, and is a major funder of the American Principles Project, which routinely spends tens of millions on anti-trans campaign ads during election years. He is not alone: an independent analysis published by Atmos and HEATED found that 80% of 45 major anti-trans organizations in the U.S. have received funding from fossil fuel companies or billionaires. The Maine initiative was part of that broader pattern—an attempt by a small handful of extraordinarily wealthy donors to use direct democracy as a workaround in states where elected legislatures have refused to engage in anti-trans legislation.
The decision was greeted with relief by the LGBTQ+ coalition that has fought the initiative since the day it was filed. “Maine has strict rules in place to protect the integrity of our elections and our system of direct democracy. The paid, out-of-state signature gathers and the billionaire who paid to try to put this question on the ballot failed to follow the rules,” said David Farmer, campaign manager for the Campaign for Free and Fair Schools, the coalition led by EqualityMaine, GLAD Law, and the Maine Women’s Lobby. “We believe that the appeals process and the reviews by the Secretary of State are working as the law intends. They are protecting the integrity of our elections.”
The Maine ruling is not the end of fight. Similar billionaire-backed initiatives have been certified for the November ballot in Washington and Colorado, where voters will decide whether to bar transgender students from sports as well as medical care restrictions. Both efforts are also funded by conservative megadonors, and both are part of the same strategy that produced the Maine initiative: use ballot initiatives to roll back trans rights in states whose elected legislatures have refused to do so. The Maine anti-trans campaign is expected appeal Bellows’ decision to Maine Superior Court within the ten-day window the law allows.
Scottie's Playtime 