hereandthere/من هنا وهناك

جينيالوجية كره الفالنتاين

 

ناي الراعي

You and I, No Valentine

DK

I come to February 14 this year with the hard lessons of winter: that mismatched marriages, lack of communication, and anger have marked our younger selves as much as love and devotion, and that we are still living the consequences of this volatile mixture; that those we invest time and feelings in do not get in touch until they want something from us; that I am only just learning to miss and need without raging on the inside; that love between women is not linear, we push it to many deaths and will it to many stunted rebirths; that what I want this year is not heart-shaped red cushions nor

Declaration of Insanity

Three years ago, I came to Germany as a student. As of a year ago, I started working in Hamburg as an outreach social worker. In my daily personal and professional interactions, I experience firsthand and witness racist macro- and micro-aggressions, be they subtle, systematic, well intended or backhanded. In the following text, I try to reflect on these aggressions, on the phrases I heard that have stayed with me and still occupy me, and on the violent space that Germany – and Europe – has become.

I am no longer able to remain sane in the face of systematic violence.

One Of These Days

So I was in a service....

Transformations: Snapshots from a Modern Myth

I.

I come from the side of the land, from semi-dry soil and rocks, from oak and pine trees, she tells herself. The rain nourishes me. There is a stream flowing through me, a familiar part of the landscape that I do not even notice on most days.

But she was always afraid of the sea and its depth.

السجن بعينَيْ ميشا: جميعنا بريئات، ولو عثرنا

مايا العمّار

One of These Days...

Pascale Ghazaly

There were two different men on the streets.

One of these days..." is a small window to illustrate the daily lives of women.

Déjà vu is Political: Rereading the Story of Feminist Migrations Out of Iran

Azadeh Faramarziha

 

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