home.social

#bravespaces — Public Fediverse posts

Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #bravespaces, aggregated by home.social.

  1. Σαν σήμερα, το 2008, στη γειτονιά των Εξαρχείων της Αθήνας, η αστυνομία δολοφόνησε τον 15χρονο αναρχικό #Αλέξη #Γρηγορόπουλο, πυροδοτώντας μια καταιγίδα θλίψης και αντίστασης. Υπάρχει πολύ #ΤέχνηΤηςΑντίστασης σήμερα σε όλη την Ελλάδα, στους τοίχους (όπως αυτό το γκράφιτι που είδαμε χθες το βράδυ στην Αθήνα) και στην πράξη/δράση, τόσο σε ανάμνηση του Αλέξη όσο και σε αντίδραση στην πρόκληση της κυβέρνησης να ξεκινήσει την έξωση όλων των καταλήψεων στις 6 Δεκεμβρίου.
    ·
    On this day, in 2008 in the Exarcheia neighborhood of Athens, police murdered 15-year-old anarchist Alexis Grigoropoulos, setting off a firestorm of grief and resistance. There is much
    #ArtOfResistance today across Greece, on walls (such as this graffiti seen last night in Athens) and in practice/action, both in remembrance of Alexis and reaction to the government’s provocation to start evicting all squats this December 6.

    @Cindy Milstein, December 6, 2019

    Βίντεο (Uploaded on 23 Σεπ 2009) της Ενωτικής Πρωτοβουλίας φοιτητών Πολυτεχνείου Κρήτης για τις κινητοποιήσεις του Δεκέμβρη '08.:
    https://vimeo.com/6716565
    Πορείες για το νεκρό μαθητή:
    https://www.flickr.com/groups/demostrations-for-alexandros-grigoropoulos/

    #MourningOurDead #FightingLikeHellForTheLiving #MendingTheWorld
    #BraveSpaces #CareNotCops
    #RestInPowerAlexis

  2. Σαν σήμερα, το 2008, στη γειτονιά των Εξαρχείων της Αθήνας, η αστυνομία δολοφόνησε τον 15χρονο αναρχικό #Αλέξη #Γρηγορόπουλο, πυροδοτώντας μια καταιγίδα θλίψης και αντίστασης. Υπάρχει πολύ #ΤέχνηΤηςΑντίστασης σήμερα σε όλη την Ελλάδα, στους τοίχους (όπως αυτό το γκράφιτι που είδαμε χθες το βράδυ στην Αθήνα) και στην πράξη/δράση, τόσο σε ανάμνηση του Αλέξη όσο και σε αντίδραση στην πρόκληση της κυβέρνησης να ξεκινήσει την έξωση όλων των καταλήψεων στις 6 Δεκεμβρίου.
    ·
    On this day, in 2008 in the Exarcheia neighborhood of Athens, police murdered 15-year-old anarchist Alexis Grigoropoulos, setting off a firestorm of grief and resistance. There is much
    #ArtOfResistance today across Greece, on walls (such as this graffiti seen last night in Athens) and in practice/action, both in remembrance of Alexis and reaction to the government’s provocation to start evicting all squats this December 6.

    @Cindy Milstein, December 6, 2019

    Βίντεο (Uploaded on 23 Σεπ 2009) της Ενωτικής Πρωτοβουλίας φοιτητών Πολυτεχνείου Κρήτης για τις κινητοποιήσεις του Δεκέμβρη '08.:
    https://vimeo.com/6716565
    Πορείες για το νεκρό μαθητή:
    https://www.flickr.com/groups/demostrations-for-alexandros-grigoropoulos/

    #MourningOurDead #FightingLikeHellForTheLiving #MendingTheWorld
    #BraveSpaces #CareNotCops
    #RestInPowerAlexis

  3. I've just discovered the concept of #BraveSpaces. blogs.kcl.ac.uk/activelearning

    The history of 'safe spaces' has changed over decades, as Diana Ali describes. Do those who are wary of safe, brave or inclusive 'spaces' fear norms of domination that those spaces are actually designed to overcome?

  4. I've just discovered the concept of #BraveSpaces. blogs.kcl.ac.uk/activelearning

    The history of 'safe spaces' has changed over decades, as Diana Ali describes. Do those who are wary of safe, brave or inclusive 'spaces' fear norms of domination that those spaces are actually designed to overcome?

  5. I've just discovered the concept of #BraveSpaces. blogs.kcl.ac.uk/activelearning

    The history of 'safe spaces' has changed over decades, as Diana Ali describes. Do those who are wary of safe, brave or inclusive 'spaces' fear norms of domination that those spaces are actually designed to overcome?

  6. I've just discovered the concept of #BraveSpaces. blogs.kcl.ac.uk/activelearning

    The history of 'safe spaces' has changed over decades, as Diana Ali describes. Do those who are wary of safe, brave or inclusive 'spaces' fear norms of domination that those spaces are actually designed to overcome?

  7. I've just discovered the concept of #BraveSpaces. blogs.kcl.ac.uk/activelearning

    The history of 'safe spaces' has changed over decades, as Diana Ali describes. Do those who are wary of safe, brave or inclusive 'spaces' fear norms of domination that those spaces are actually designed to overcome?

  8. There are no safe spaces. But there are sacred spaces.

    At this moment in history, like other particularly brutal epochs, there is no separating that sacredness from the unsafeness.

    That’s what this sacrilegious world order has forged over more than five hundred years of conquest, plunder, displacement, genocide, and ecological destruction. Its theft of land and lives, lifeways and ecosystems, has desecrated every corner of the globe.

    Yet time and again, those who would defend land and freedom create brave spaces. Meaning despite the risks, often impossibly heavy ones, they find strength in the sacred, aiding them in fighting the good fight and holding them when they must mourn and honor their dead.

    Perhaps that braveness, even when we’re afraid, is part of what compels our sacred duty all that much more.

    We know what’s at stake, for one: the further loss of sacred places and sacred life. Yet equally, while we defend sacred spaces such as a forest, we know what it feels like to inhabit dignified lives worth living, in common with all living beings, because there is a magic to the sacred. The sacred animates life against their death machines.

    Moreover, we understand that in our brave spaces, it is up to us, and only us, to love, care for, and protect each other, to make our spaces ever safer for us all. We know that any sense of safety comes though our love and solidarity, and when we’re lucky, glimpses of the spirit of far better social relations—in right relation with earth.

    Brave spaces are most crucial, though, when bad things happen, including our worst nightmares, and our efforts at those “safer spaces” are momentarily shattered. We feel a sacred obligation to grieve the sacredness of what’s been stolen from us, including by making more brave and sacred spaces, like do-it-ourselves vigils, altars, and other tender spaces of remembrance on the dangerous landscape of this violent social system.

    May all that is sacred embrace us now, because the big @defendATLforest community is hurting.

    May Tortuguita’s memory be a blessing—and spark the blessedly ecological world they fought for.

    #RitualAsResistance
    #SacredSpaces #BraveSpaces
    #MourningOurDead #MendingTheWorld

    defendtheatlantaforest.org/202

    (photo: resanctified entry—after a cop incursion—into the Weelaunee forest, featuring red-and-black anarchist hearts painted on a pink-painted concrete slab and a #StopCopCity yard sign, as seen in October 2022)

  9. There are no safe spaces. But there are sacred spaces.

    At this moment in history, like other particularly brutal epochs, there is no separating that sacredness from the unsafeness.

    That’s what this sacrilegious world order has forged over more than five hundred years of conquest, plunder, displacement, genocide, and ecological destruction. Its theft of land and lives, lifeways and ecosystems, has desecrated every corner of the globe.

    Yet time and again, those who would defend land and freedom create brave spaces. Meaning despite the risks, often impossibly heavy ones, they find strength in the sacred, aiding them in fighting the good fight and holding them when they must mourn and honor their dead.

    Perhaps that braveness, even when we’re afraid, is part of what compels our sacred duty all that much more.

    We know what’s at stake, for one: the further loss of sacred places and sacred life. Yet equally, while we defend sacred spaces such as a forest, we know what it feels like to inhabit dignified lives worth living, in common with all living beings, because there is a magic to the sacred. The sacred animates life against their death machines.

    Moreover, we understand that in our brave spaces, it is up to us, and only us, to love, care for, and protect each other, to make our spaces ever safer for us all. We know that any sense of safety comes though our love and solidarity, and when we’re lucky, glimpses of the spirit of far better social relations—in right relation with earth.

    Brave spaces are most crucial, though, when bad things happen, including our worst nightmares, and our efforts at those “safer spaces” are momentarily shattered. We feel a sacred obligation to grieve the sacredness of what’s been stolen from us, including by making more brave and sacred spaces, like do-it-ourselves vigils, altars, and other tender spaces of remembrance on the dangerous landscape of this violent social system.

    May all that is sacred embrace us now, because the big @defendATLforest community is hurting.

    May Tortuguita’s memory be a blessing—and spark the blessedly ecological world they fought for.

    #RitualAsResistance
    #SacredSpaces #BraveSpaces
    #MourningOurDead #MendingTheWorld

    defendtheatlantaforest.org/202

    (photo: resanctified entry—after a cop incursion—into the Weelaunee forest, featuring red-and-black anarchist hearts painted on a pink-painted concrete slab and a #StopCopCity yard sign, as seen in October 2022)

  10. There are no safe spaces. But there are sacred spaces.

    At this moment in history, like other particularly brutal epochs, there is no separating that sacredness from the unsafeness.

    That’s what this sacrilegious world order has forged over more than five hundred years of conquest, plunder, displacement, genocide, and ecological destruction. Its theft of land and lives, lifeways and ecosystems, has desecrated every corner of the globe.

    Yet time and again, those who would defend land and freedom create brave spaces. Meaning despite the risks, often impossibly heavy ones, they find strength in the sacred, aiding them in fighting the good fight and holding them when they must mourn and honor their dead.

    Perhaps that braveness, even when we’re afraid, is part of what compels our sacred duty all that much more.

    We know what’s at stake, for one: the further loss of sacred places and sacred life. Yet equally, while we defend sacred spaces such as a forest, we know what it feels like to inhabit dignified lives worth living, in common with all living beings, because there is a magic to the sacred. The sacred animates life against their death machines.

    Moreover, we understand that in our brave spaces, it is up to us, and only us, to love, care for, and protect each other, to make our spaces ever safer for us all. We know that any sense of safety comes though our love and solidarity, and when we’re lucky, glimpses of the spirit of far better social relations—in right relation with earth.

    Brave spaces are most crucial, though, when bad things happen, including our worst nightmares, and our efforts at those “safer spaces” are momentarily shattered. We feel a sacred obligation to grieve the sacredness of what’s been stolen from us, including by making more brave and sacred spaces, like do-it-ourselves vigils, altars, and other tender spaces of remembrance on the dangerous landscape of this violent social system.

    May all that is sacred embrace us now, because the big @defendATLforest community is hurting.

    May Tortuguita’s memory be a blessing—and spark the blessedly ecological world they fought for.

    #RitualAsResistance
    #SacredSpaces #BraveSpaces
    #MourningOurDead #MendingTheWorld

    defendtheatlantaforest.org/202

    (photo: resanctified entry—after a cop incursion—into the Weelaunee forest, featuring red-and-black anarchist hearts painted on a pink-painted concrete slab and a #StopCopCity yard sign, as seen in October 2022)

  11. There are no safe spaces. But there are sacred spaces.

    At this moment in history, like other particularly brutal epochs, there is no separating that sacredness from the unsafeness.

    That’s what this sacrilegious world order has forged over more than five hundred years of conquest, plunder, displacement, genocide, and ecological destruction. Its theft of land and lives, lifeways and ecosystems, has desecrated every corner of the globe.

    Yet time and again, those who would defend land and freedom create brave spaces. Meaning despite the risks, often impossibly heavy ones, they find strength in the sacred, aiding them in fighting the good fight and holding them when they must mourn and honor their dead.

    Perhaps that braveness, even when we’re afraid, is part of what compels our sacred duty all that much more.

    We know what’s at stake, for one: the further loss of sacred places and sacred life. Yet equally, while we defend sacred spaces such as a forest, we know what it feels like to inhabit dignified lives worth living, in common with all living beings, because there is a magic to the sacred. The sacred animates life against their death machines.

    Moreover, we understand that in our brave spaces, it is up to us, and only us, to love, care for, and protect each other, to make our spaces ever safer for us all. We know that any sense of safety comes though our love and solidarity, and when we’re lucky, glimpses of the spirit of far better social relations—in right relation with earth.

    Brave spaces are most crucial, though, when bad things happen, including our worst nightmares, and our efforts at those “safer spaces” are momentarily shattered. We feel a sacred obligation to grieve the sacredness of what’s been stolen from us, including by making more brave and sacred spaces, like do-it-ourselves vigils, altars, and other tender spaces of remembrance on the dangerous landscape of this violent social system.

    May all that is sacred embrace us now, because the big @defendATLforest community is hurting.

    May Tortuguita’s memory be a blessing—and spark the blessedly ecological world they fought for.

    #RitualAsResistance
    #SacredSpaces #BraveSpaces
    #MourningOurDead #MendingTheWorld

    defendtheatlantaforest.org/202

    (photo: resanctified entry—after a cop incursion—into the Weelaunee forest, featuring red-and-black anarchist hearts painted on a pink-painted concrete slab and a #StopCopCity yard sign, as seen in October 2022)

  12. There are no safe spaces. But there are sacred spaces.

    At this moment in history, like other particularly brutal epochs, there is no separating that sacredness from the unsafeness.

    That’s what this sacrilegious world order has forged over more than five hundred years of conquest, plunder, displacement, genocide, and ecological destruction. Its theft of land and lives, lifeways and ecosystems, has desecrated every corner of the globe.

    Yet time and again, those who would defend land and freedom create brave spaces. Meaning despite the risks, often impossibly heavy ones, they find strength in the sacred, aiding them in fighting the good fight and holding them when they must mourn and honor their dead.

    Perhaps that braveness, even when we’re afraid, is part of what compels our sacred duty all that much more.

    We know what’s at stake, for one: the further loss of sacred places and sacred life. Yet equally, while we defend sacred spaces such as a forest, we know what it feels like to inhabit dignified lives worth living, in common with all living beings, because there is a magic to the sacred. The sacred animates life against their death machines.

    Moreover, we understand that in our brave spaces, it is up to us, and only us, to love, care for, and protect each other, to make our spaces ever safer for us all. We know that any sense of safety comes though our love and solidarity, and when we’re lucky, glimpses of the spirit of far better social relations—in right relation with earth.

    Brave spaces are most crucial, though, when bad things happen, including our worst nightmares, and our efforts at those “safer spaces” are momentarily shattered. We feel a sacred obligation to grieve the sacredness of what’s been stolen from us, including by making more brave and sacred spaces, like do-it-ourselves vigils, altars, and other tender spaces of remembrance on the dangerous landscape of this violent social system.

    May all that is sacred embrace us now, because the big @defendATLforest community is hurting.

    May Tortuguita’s memory be a blessing—and spark the blessedly ecological world they fought for.

    #RitualAsResistance
    #SacredSpaces #BraveSpaces
    #MourningOurDead #MendingTheWorld

    defendtheatlantaforest.org/202

    (photo: resanctified entry—after a cop incursion—into the Weelaunee forest, featuring red-and-black anarchist hearts painted on a pink-painted concrete slab and a #StopCopCity yard sign, as seen in October 2022)