My hands are full with my cardigan, my uni bag, the rubbish that has piled up in my car as I trundle towards the front door of my house. But before I can cross the safe threshold of my door, I hear the terrifying “hello” of an unknown voice.
Finding comfort in online spaces.
Alice and Shania go to Glebe Markets.
A personal history of Redfern.
The most widely broadcast sporting event in the world has a 'parochial and insular history.'
The Queer history of The Imperial Hotel in Erskineville
The beginning of this semester has been marked for me by visits to the Redfern Tent Embassy, and hearing stories from friends who travelled on the 50th Anniversary Freedom Ride. With first hand perspectives and experiences giving myself and others a greater understanding of Indigenous land issues and the constant disadvantages these groups face at…
Community. The word always used to trigger a vaguely nauseated feeling in me. Having grown up on an insular peninsula north of the bridge, this suburban c-bomb of a word only brought to mind the parochial pride of over functioning P&C parents, or holier-than-thou Sunday mass attendees. That was, of course, until I found community…