by Zuleika Bibi Sheik
Of the myriad calls for decolonising—the university, the museum, the curriculum, the mind, and so on—few have given attention to decolonising the self. In my/our process of decolonising the self, poetry has been pivotal in giving name to the nameless, which is dreamed but not yet realised (Lorde 2007, 73). As a black woman/woman of colour, following the pen strokes of Audre Lorde (2007) and Gloria Anzaldúa (1987), who put flesh back into words, poetry is a necessity in decolonising and reconstituting the self. In what follows, I hope to walk with the reader on this path of realising my colonised self, decolonising it through the emergence of the plural self, and the eventual reconstituting of self as a coming to voice (Lorde 2007, 79–86).
Continue reading “From Decolonising the Self to Coming to Voice”
by Gabriela Monteiro and Ruth Steuerwald
Brasília, February 9th, 2020
Hi, my dearest German girl!
How I miss you. Here in Brazil, carnival is approaching and people are getting more agitated every day. Last week, I was in Salvador and the Blackest city outside Africa is still pulsating. The Iemanjá celebration was happening on 02/02, a celebration that always touches me a lot. It’s also a festival which is full of problems and contradictions, with the presence of white tourists and photographers consuming what is sacred for Black people. Everything is very difficult, but as capoeira teaches us, we need to gingar – and we can’t forget who is the real owner of the party. Never forget who we are.
Continue reading “Feminist Letters Crossing Borders – Cartas feministas atravessando fronteiras”
by Serena Stein
As Covid-19 accelerates in the United States, we are only beginning to come to terms with new realities of ‘distancing,’ immobility, and enclosure that jeopardize the conviviality and deeper bonds that sustain us. As infection and dis-ease spread throughout the world, the belated arrival of coronavirus to the United States was an opportunity to prepare for disaster that was largely squandered. As we now know, the fleeting window for better preparedness was undermined by disbelief, fueled by misleading statements from government officials, and namely the president. The following poem, written on Sunday March 15, is now a kind of artifact of a strange moment of incongruity, refusal, and impending doom in the brief interim before more severe measures were implemented to reduce coronavirus transmission in the American arena.
Continue reading “[COVID-19] Conviviality in Quarantine”
by Budd L Hall
I live in Victoria, British Colombia on the traditional territory of the Lekwungen-speaking peoples, the Songhees, Esquimalt and W̱SÁNEĆ First Nations. Indigenous people have been living in British Colombia for at least 16,000 years. It is the home of 52 different First Nations with about the same number of languages. Continue reading “Indigenous Sovereignty and the Canadian Colonial State: Pipelines, Orcas and a Poem”
by Budd Hall
Our cries of fear and pain
Our cries of joy of happiness
Were our first poems
Continue reading “Creation Song: A Revelation”
I pretend to be a writer, but really
If I am honest
What can I write?
Continue reading “On Academic Writing”
by Zuleika B. Sheik
I am hungry for it.
With gluttonous abandon,
I devour it.
Leaving you depleted.
Still you come back for more.
Continue reading “The Feast and the Liberation of Sensing”
As the WORLD
so must our stomachs
WE are LOST
Continue reading “As the World Churns”
Republished from Decolonize | Politics, art, decoloniality, autonomous health & feminism | Many thanks to Sat Trejo for sharing this with us here.
In this post I want to share a poem that is a call for collective healing and resistance against the violence of dehumanization racialized and gendered bodies have been experiencing as a consequence of colonization. I wrote this poem as a way to express the essence of my research that focuses on resistance to the erasure of ways of knowing-being and the peoples that embody these in a context of feminicide (erasure of specific bodies) in Chiapas, Mexico. My work looks at the politics of knowledge within the field of development studies. I understand development as a project of coloniality. The latter a form of erasure. Coloniality entails erasure of everything that has its roots outside modern logics-ways. The poem is entitled:
“You don’t break our spirits by breaking our bones”
Continue reading “A call for resistance”