أمّي اعتقدت أنني أحب

 

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

Love Is Not All What We Need.

I imagine myself going into a gift shop, where I ask the young man standing behind the counter to help me choose a gift for valentine’s day. He asks me while smiling: "for a husband or a boyfriend?” I imagine myself correcting him with a very serious face and an assertive tone “neither, for my girlfriend. I’m a Lesbian.” I can see that his face is yellow now.

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.

في زمن الأسرار، البكاء هو الحلّ

لماذا تخليتي عنّا، نوال السعداوي؟

One Of These Days

So I was in a service....

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