Walking around our college’s neighborhood, I find myself trying to trace a history through the different styles of architecture. Whether you stop to glance at the stoic church next to our administration building, or the newly constructed apartment buildings on the way to the supermarket slowly filling up, it is clear that Pankow holds a
Over the summer, my friend Helene and I were sitting in my backyard in upstate New York talking about the importance of feeling connected to nature. After spending the first month of my summer in Berlin, and Helene having been on the road with their family, it was wonderful to reunite and catch up under
Marie Schleef is a Bard Annandale ’14 Alumna who spent a semester abroad at BCB. She now lives in Berlin and directs feminist theatre productions; her seven and a half hour show Name Her premiered last year in September, and this Spring her new show, The Tin Drum, is set to premiere in Cologne, providing
My grandmother says, Das Militär steckt in unserem Blut. My grandmother says, The military runs in our family. What is lost in translation is the word steckt. Hides, is stuck, is plugged. Somehow the military exists in our blood, lingering. The verb steckt suggests something active, positive or negative, but a presence nonetheless.
After the publication of last month’s Feminism for the 99%- inspired examination of the German public sector strikes, Alexandra Huff sits down with Bard College Berlin Professor of Politics Boris Vormann to see how labor issues are talked about on campus.
If I wanted to escape the confusion of my identity, Bard Berlin seems only to cement my bewilderment. It is an English speaking university on the edge of the biggest German city. It is easy to spend days speaking, reading, and writing only in English. Occasionally, I feel guilty about this.
On Monday, February 26, warning strikes and protests erupted in Germany from across the public sector. Those taking to the streets included teachers, nurses and park administrators, causing school and daycare closures and slowdowns in hospitals and government offices.
I don’t usually assign much spiritual significance to death, but on the 8th of December, when two friends and I went to Potsdam to explore an abandoned cemetery, taking a picture felt wrong. In an effort to make something from the experience or somehow preserve it, I sat down and wrote this poem.