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Wednesday 15 October 2014
Memoir

memoir: the summer of leaving ghosts

Melanie Pryor
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I lie awake, eyes wide beneath the lacing of moonlight filtering through unfamiliar curtains, listening to the distant wail of trams. The pub up the street is pumping out a bassy whump-whump and bursts of raucous laughter. A coil in the mattress feels like a knuckle in my spine. The thoughts in my mind feel…
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Monday 6 October 2014
Memoir

street harassment in brussels

Reanna Clark
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When my friends warned me about the overt sexist comments many young women experience while walking on the streets in some European countries, I wasn’t sure what to think of it. Naively, I laughed, dismissing the issue by claiming I would have some devious feminist comeback if any man was to pester me. This attitude,…
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Monday 8 September 2014
Memoir

memoir: no matter how small

Gena LeBlanc
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(TW: graphic bodily descriptions) I remember that my mother and I were out running errands, but not much else. I can’t tell you the time of day or year, if the leaves crinkled as their rust-coloured corpses tumbled through the sky, or if the scent of summer honeysuckle hung so thick you could almost taste…
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Tuesday 8 July 2014
Memoir

memoir: the red mark

Karla Gamero Gomez
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There was a red mark on my skirt. My friend had told me as soon as I’d risen from my seat and I had no idea what to do. It was my first year of high school. I’d only been there a few weeks and my first month had been fine, but this was a…
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Tuesday 10 June 2014
Memoir

high school sweetheart

Augusta Wise
One comment

She’s fourteen – though she is often mistaken for twelve – and a mixture of insecurity and confidence is etched into her movements. A freshman in a tiny Texas town, she tiptoes through the halls of her high school quietly and curiously.  She’s not quite sure how to carry herself – this body of a…
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Sunday 8 June 2014
Memoir

memoir: secondhand fear

Naz Jacobs
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How do I paint this picture, in ink strokes that become words, of how all three of my closest friends were separately raped before any of them turned twenty? Not one of their attackers was ever brought to justice. It serves as little wonder then, why I — as the only one amongst them who…
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Tuesday 20 May 2014
Memoir

memoir: girls

Kaiyuh Rose Cornberg
2 comments

Martha At the age of twelve, Martha was scarred. A jellyfish had wrapped itself around her thin arm like a swarm of bees, like a lyme burn, like a lemon bite. They had to cut the goo off with a surfer’s sharktooth necklace. Her prince was sun-tanned and too old. She didn’t cry until after…
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Thursday 15 May 2014
Culture Life Memoir

as long as you don’t act like a wog: negotiating implicit family racism

Sarah Iuliano
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Blood is thicker than water, but for some ethnicity is the deciding factor. That’s a bold claim but as a target of family racism, it’s something that I am forced to think about. I’m what could be considered ‘biracial’, that is, my mother is Anglo-Australian and my father is Italian. All racism is bad and…
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Wednesday 7 May 2014
Memoir

memoir: have family, will travel

Kaiyuh Rose Cornberg
2 comments

I must confess, I have not taken the bus in a while.  I drive now. This is not a confessional. This was not written on a bus. Growing up in Taipei—a city of laudable public transportation—I took the bus often. We took Bus 220 south, across the bridge over the canal, and then disembarked shortly…
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Friday 2 May 2014
Memoir

memoir: do i scare you, bitch?

Kath Pollock
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At work, I’ve had to clean up faeces, urine, and vomit.  I’ve been called a cunt and a bitch, been threatened with murder, and told that I’m liable to be torn a new arsehole if I don’t watch myself.  I’m not a nurse, a therapist, or a police officer.  I work in retail. I’ve never…
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Friday 25 April 2014
Memoir

memoir: wuthering heights

Aimee Knight
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Mary St / Electric Avenue / Wuthering Heights, Adelaide, 2012 – 2014. RIP. Hell so often is other people. Being around them, being without them and, perhaps worst of all, living with them… Before Jeff there was Jess, and one day the friend-of-a-friend becomes housemate. With two others in tow, we first dub our humble…
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Wednesday 2 April 2014
Memoir

a separation

Sadaf Zekaria
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This was not the first time my father had expressed an opinion which had bothered me, but for some reason this particular incident has stayed in my mind over the last few months. I was watching the phenomenal 2011 film by Iranian director Asghar Farhadi titled A Separation, which follows the lives of two startlingly…
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Thursday 27 March 2014
Featured Memoir

barbie: a memoir and social history

Sarah Jansen
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It’s possible that no toy has been subjected so consistently to feminist criticisms as Mattel’s Barbie Doll. As a kid, I heard many of them from my mother. I heard how that ’if Barbies were real women, they would be nine feet tall.’  ‘Look at their feet, they’re not at all like real people’s.’ ‘No one’s…
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Sunday 15 December 2013
Memoir

memoir: wax on, wax off

Dzenana Vucic
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There is a woman applying hot wax to my arsehole. I’m on a massage table, lying on my side facing a stark white wall. And there is a woman applying hot wax to my arsehole. She’s asked me to bring my knees to my chest and ‘pull up’ with a hand on my right buttocks….
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