Visual

Every woman was wearing a hijab. From where I stood, looking down Karl-Marx-Straße, maybe one or two were bare-headed. On my right, I could hear Turkish. On my left, Arabic. I had to remind myself this was the heart of Central Europe, not the Middle East. (More…)

The flyers were everywhere. Posted to the walls of buildings throughout San Salvario, they described the death of a 19-year-old Arab woman, who was being chased by the immigration place. (More…)

The posters were racist. Practically all of them. Living in Milano’s Piazzale Loreto, on the block next to the former Esso station where Benito Mussolini’s body had been strung up by the partisans, posters from Italy’s Lega Nord (now just Lega) focused on attacking refugees and Islam. (More…)

In the weeks leading up to the premiere of Game of Thrones’ eighth and final season, it seemed everybody was talking about the massively popular HBO series. Or, at least, that’s how it seemed to people like me who are deeply invested in the fictional invented by George R.R. Martin. For people who don’t follow the show, however, the media frenzy surrounding it was an irritation at best. (More…)

Nothing will stop Matteo Salvini. That is, if you read the European press, which, day in and day out, cites the Italian deputy premier’s high polling numbers. And, if they feel like adding insult to injury, his number of social media followers, too. Nevermind the veracity of his polling data, especially given the fact that reports have repeatedly indicated he buys social media followers. (More…)

When I first saw the same image popping up in my social media feeds yesterday, I wasn’t sure what to think. On the small screen of my phone, it was too “busy” to comprehend at a glance. The background was dark. And, though I could clearly see the president in the right foreground, I couldn’t tell who was represented in the group to his left. So I paused to zoom in. (More…)

I’ve always had an eye for the elderly. Part of the reason is because I had older parents than most persons of my generation. My mother gave birth to me at the age of 42, which, though not uncommon today, was extremely rare in 1967. My father, four years her senior, was 46. (More…)

Almost every night, I visit my father in the skilled nursing facility where he has been confined since last spring. And almost every night, he has a grievance to share. But I never saw this one coming: “They were showing Easy Rider today as the in-house movie. No matter how high I turned up the volume, though, I just couldn’t make it loud enough.” (More…)

I nearly tripped. Opening the door to leave for work, I accidentally stomped on a man’s chest. Sheltering in our doorway, he was laying on his back. Carrying my bike and my messenger bag on my shoulder, the impact of my weight must have been painful. He screamed so loudly, everyone on our block must have heard him. (More…)

Even more than previous years in what has been a consistently stressful decade for me, 2018 was defined by the divide between what I absolutely had to do and what I felt I didn’t have time for. As a result – and I think this applies to a great many people, even ones who had relatively good years – I ended up prioritizing experiences over the pursuit of novelty. (More…)

Her eyes were filled with fear, and her breath reeked of alcohol. “Andare, andare,” the activist yelled, telling me to leave. Unable to figure out why I shrugged my shoulders out of surprise. I was on her side, after all. “Your camera,” she replied, touching my Pentax. “Go.” (More…)

You and your sometime girlfriend are driving home to the city from a weekend at the estate of your wealthy new friend. She falls asleep between you in the back seat, still hungover from the previous night. You stop for a drink along the way while she rests. Your outdoor table is surrounded by locals enjoying the beautiful weather. The pastoral scene makes a pleasing backdrop for your conversation. (More…)