I AM – a poem

I am my umbilical cord My mother’s sleepless nights My father’s long drives I am the scent in my mother’s wardrobe The high heels I never fit I am the ingrained institutionalized religion Founded on fear. I am the shame and the guilt The vagina I am the black eyeliner I draw around my eyes

Open Questions

When I began teaching sculpture at BCB in the spring semester of 2015, The Factory was an incredibly raw, open space, with a vibe perhaps closer to a squat’s than to that of a private college arts facility. There was random graffiti covering the walls, the bathrooms had no mirrors or even paper towel dispensers,

Happy Summer Break!

A message from Marga Hattingh, the blog editor: From Pankow to puppets to puppies, poems to podcasts to horoscopes to reflective articles, Die Bärliner has travelled far and wide this last academic year. We’re sad to see you go for the summer… which is why we’ll be sticking around. In your inbox. Probably every week.