8 New Nonfiction Books to Read in May

If you’ve read Dungy’s work, you know how beautiful her prose is, and this book is no exception. When she moved to the Colorado town of Fort Collins in 2013, there were guidelines to what residents (who were mostly white) could and could not plant in their gardens. What follows is Dungy’s resistance to the homogeneity that was enforced, writing about the plants, herbs, vegetables, and flowers she plants, and why diversity is needed for the environment — which is also a larger metaphor for our communities and the planet. Without diversity and intersectionality, our future is threatened, in all possible ways. But the book is also a meditation on her relationship with the land, and what this means. A hybrid of memoir, nature writing, and environmental justice, this book is a must-read for the spring.

Daniels is a travel nurse, and in this book she writes about her path to nursing, as well as her experiences traveling to various hospitals to work as an emergency room nurse pre-pandemic and during the pandemic, although the pandemic is not a main focus. Instead, she writes honestly about the systemic racism in the medical system that is directed towards both professionals and patients, and how inequalities surface in care, and are baked into our medical system. She writes about the toll it can take on a person, especially if they are Black and visibly queer, but she also writes about the encounters with patients that fill her soul, compassionately rendering her patients and never forgetting their humanity.

According to Branigan, you cannot understand China if you don’t understand its Cultural Revolution, or the period between 1966 and 1976, when Mao Zedong sought to keep Chinese communism in place and get rid of all capitalist and traditional cultural parts of Chinese society. It tore families and friends apart and millions of people died — yet it’s still largely not talked about. Branigan explores this period and its effects in this book, looking at the reverberations of this time period and how the traumas and secrets from then linger, even today. It’s a fascinating and deep journalistic dive into history, which never forgets the very real impact on people.

In a world that can be preoccupied with achievement — like the kind that is measured by way of degrees and credentials — this book is a thought-provoking memoir. Zara wanted to write about the education gap and the experience of being without a degree, but realized that his own story needed to play a larger part. He writes about dropping out of school and dealing with the work world without a degree, while also examining what it means to be “educated.” This is a much-needed look at the higher-education system, what it means to have a degree (and not), who decides the importance of credentials, and why, all illustrated through Zara’s story.

Irby’s essays are always a joy to read: her honest writing lays bare what her life is like, alternatingly hilarious, cringey, heart-wrenching, and joyful. In this collection of essays, she takes us on a ride through her life, from emails, to being turned away at restaurants, to bathroom and tummy trouble mishaps, and much more. She reminds us that life is messy and raw, and that what you see on social media isn’t the whole story. If you’ve read her previous essay collections, you’re not going to want to miss this one.