I have spent far more time than perhaps is healthy trawling through UP’s secondhand bookshops. These places peddle plays, folklore, short stories, novels, and other weird and wonderful permutations of the written word. Nothing in their collections, from postwar dramas to self-published poetry, slim essay collections to tomes of theater history, is quite like anything else. They are manned by nigh-omniscient booksellers, who know everything about every part of their collection and snicker ominously when you decide on a purchase. The shops are, as a rule, cramped, musty, and impossible to fully explore in a single visit.
It is still growing. The work known as the quilt of solidarity, Weaving Our Unity, features contributions of 2x2 feet panels from various organizations, national minorities (NM), artists, and advocates, with construction methods varying from appliqué to silkscreens, digital prints to embroidery. According to a Sandugo flyer, the project is “a long-term cultural initiative that aims to consolidate support for the national minorities via creative expression.”
I could understand the difference in attitude between my two male friends: one was surrounded by more people schooled in gender sensitivity. That was when the question hit me: Could I be living in a society who fights for gender equality, yes, but not as all-inclusive as how it really should be?
Eduardo Viveiros de Castro mourns in anger. None of his colleagues died in the September 2018 fire that destroyed the National Museum of Brazil, where he worked as a professor. The worst physical injury it caused was to burn the hand of a fireman who was attempting to save a skull from the flames. It was the remains of a woman who died about twelve thousand years ago, one of the first immigrants to Latin America. The researchers had nicknamed her Luzia.