My International Identity: French School In Tunisia

[Image description: close photograph of sequins inside a kaleidoscope; overlapping circles of blurry, brightly-coloured light.]

I devoured Arabic books, one after another, with a certain pride and a sense a victory. For me, reading Arabic books was another way of saying, “nah, you’re not going to kill my identity and force me to adopt your stupid European one!”

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The Art Of Being A Unicorn

[Image Description: A Lego figure in a molded unicorn onesie stands solitary against a white background, shadows falling to the left.]

In snapshots rich with details, Jenna Swisher chronicles the daily microaggressions and misunderstanding of bisexuality, inhabiting the liminal space of sexuality that most don’t think exists. The Art of Being a Unicorn leaves you with more questions than answers, and hungry for what could have been, in the best way possible.

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Property Law and the Body of the Beautiful Daughter

My father had a daughter once, and now he does not anymore. I killed her first when I began to grow, and was no longer the child he could carry on his shoulders, and I killed her again when I began to think, and was no longer the child he could overrule, and most recently I killed her when I told my father that he had never had a daughter in the first place, but he could have a son, if he was willing.

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Hargot Sneak Peak: "It's a Kind of Magic"

“It goes deeper than that real life safe space; the game itself provides a world where the obstacles that I as a queer person face daily simply don’t exist. Fictional though the world in which we play may be, the power that it holds is real. Once a week, we get to exist in a space where our identities are as commonplace as the cobbles on the street…”

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In The New Beginning: Healing Magic For The Revolution

I was an angry kid because I already knew everything was bullshit, and I knew it didn’t have to be that way.  While knowing it wasn’t my fault didn’t stop me from being wounded by it, it also doesn’t diminish my responsibility to heal those wounds myself, and to not pass them along.

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