My body, my walk

by Georgette Veerhuis Two weeks ago I was catcalled while I was making my way through Hull, a port town located in east Yorkshire. This prompted a reflexive stream of thought on how I consciously and subconsciously moved my body through space. It encouraged me to disentangle both the discomfort I felt and the privileges I enjoy.

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Reading a Post-Apartheid Memorial

  Photo by April Killingsworth Duane Jethro Sunday 8 August, 2010: I am on an expedition to find an elusive Sunday Times memorial in Soweto, Johannesburg. On the way, I drive through Vilakazi Street, passing by Nelson Mandela’s former home. It has been transformed into a museum. The precinct surrounding his former domicile is teeming with tourists and a host of locals plying a range of different commercial strategies aimed at cashing in on the spoils of the heritage venture. Further along the way, I pass the monumental Hector Pieterson Memorial and Media Centre, another heritage project erected during the post-apartheid …

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