To celebrate my eleventh birthday (which at the time I thought was an exceptionally important age), I convinced my parents to take me to the beautiful city of Jaipur in India. It was my first time visiting the Pink City and I was taken aback by its sheer grandeur. The city is full of architectural
In a poem, Sarah Nassabieh answers to the first question posed in the class “Social Justice: A Transnational Feminist Perspective” led by Dr. Cassandra Ellerbe at Bard College Berlin this semester.
The 8th March 2019 is the first year Berlin will celebrate International Women’s Day as an official public holiday. This day invites us to reflect on its historical and political implications. To mark the occasion and encourage contemplation, Die Bärliner has uncovered eight evocative pieces.
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
The solo exhibition of the highly acclaimed interdisciplinary artist, activist, and writer, Faith Ringgold, opened at the Weiss Gallery in Berlin on April 24th, 2018. The exhibition opening was preceded by a brief talk with Ringgold and a number of students from two Bard College Berlin courses: Imagined Geographies, taught by Heba Amin and Migration,
The first time someone touched me without my consent, I was in middle school. I think it was in the 7th grade and I was turned to my friends who were sitting at the desk behind me, when a boy grabbed my left breast out of nowhere. I was wearing a purple sweater and a
“If desire [in a society] is repressed, it is because every position of desire…is capable of calling into question the established order of society…it is revolutionary in its essence…It is therefore of vital importance for a society to repress desire, and even to find something more efficient than repression, so that repression, hierarchy, exploitation, and
Where I come from, I’m the devil’s incarnation The fallen woman Lilith. You see, there’s always a dichotomy at play: The sinner, not the saint. The whore and the prostitute. I am the one without a hymen The one mothers spend lifetimes protecting their daughters from becoming. Even by cutting off their clitoris By subjecting