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Our America

Critical Counterinsurgency and Zionism

- By Kerry Sinanan

When the Tree rises up, the branches
Shall flourish green and fresh in the sun
The laughter of the Tree shall leaf
Beneath the sun
And birds shall return
Undoubtedly, the birds shall return.

            —Fadwa Tuqan, from “The Deluge and the Tree”


The very title of Adam Shatz’s most recent, unfortunate piece of writing announces itself clearly as Zionist apologia. “Israel’s Descent” invokes Charles Darwin’s The Descent...


“Some Sing”: A Juneteenth Celebration at the Lincoln Center

- By Carl Hancock Rux

Presented here is Carl Hancock Rux's Artist Statement for his forthcoming Juneteenth celebration at Lincoln Center

"It was while singing... the idea of escaping from slavery was first suggested to my mind." —Frederick Douglass

African American music is inseparable from the Transatlantic Slave Trade and the forced transportation of millions of African people across the Atlantic, who were then subjected to slavery. The cultures from which they were torn and the conditions into which they were forced both contributed to the sounds of African American music. Many of the instruments historically used in African American music, including the...


An Interview with Sophie Wan

- By Acree Graham Macam

In some ways I regret how I thought about marriage on the day of my wedding, December 7, 2013. At the time, my partner and I believed that God had led us to one another, that divorce could only be a tragic last resort, and that it was my husband’s role as a man to be the “leader” in our family.

Ten years and a fundamental shift in beliefs later, somewhat impossibly, we’re still together. We changed in many of the same ways at roughly the same times, and our relationship supported those changes rather than cracking beneath them. Now, with two young children, we relate to one another on a day-to-day basis largely as co-parents. Sometimes I think our wedding—with its tealight-topped tables, signature cocktails, and professional photographer—set...


10 Questions for Abby Manzella

- By Franchesca Viaud

On November 1, 2012—over ten years ago now—I awake to the sound of a generator . . . in another, wealthier building. It is Day Four of the blackout. I cover my nose from the chill in my unheated and lightless apartment. My husband, already awake, wraps his arms around me and gives a quick squeeze. The warmth from his body accentuates the cold of the air. 

“It’s time to e-scavenge,” he whispers in my ear. We are co-conspirators, taking new actions and finding new words for this strange, new moment. 

I grumble against the intrusion of the morning. Still, I know it’s time to face the day, so I slip out of my husband’s embrace and our bed into the cold air of our once perpetually overheated apartment.

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