Political Agender

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Political Agender is an inclusive feminist collective based in Berlin. We organise spoken word events and circles where we dismantle patriarchy and social injustice. 

We aim to establish a safe space for the city’s diverse spectrum of identities and our main focuses are gender and mental health.

Everyone is welcome. Bring along an open and tolerant mind: we respect and lift each other up.

No hate, sexism, racism, ageism, classism, fatphobia, homophobia, facism, transphobia, islamophobia, anti-semitism, ableism, or any kind of discrimination will be tolerated.

In an overly binary world: always ask for pronouns and never make assumptions.

Watch this space – first spoken word event coming soon!

Facebook: Political Agender

Instagram: @politicalagender_

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It is 

the small 

tiny things

It is holding my hair when I throw up cos 

he broke my heart and being sober is too 

painful right now.

It is 

the small 

tiny things

It is telling you that I am not up for a night out can we please stay in, the world is just too much 

and you saying i am coming over with junk food, let’s just be together

It is 

the small 

tiny things 

It is saying stuff i don’t wanna hear it is, 

where is my top, I lent it to you weeks ago, what? i have no idea what you are on about 

It is 

the small 

tiny things 

the late phone calls, the tears 

and your shoulders, your strong shoulders, always 

your arms, lifting me 

up.

It is 

the small 

tiny things 

the whatsapp groups, the tits pictures 

these same ones i accidentally open on the tram and that everyone can see 

they are just boobs at the end of the day. 

It is

the small 

tiny things

complaining about your stretch marks and me telling you they are beautiful

they show you made it alive through years of wanting to 

shrink yourself

It is 

the small 

tiny things

growth loss love 

heartbreak 

every single step of it 

and we are still here for 

each other. 

It is,

It is the 

let me know when you’re home. Please

just in case, I want to know when 

you are in bed, safe.

It is 

the small 

tiny things 

I didn’t get the job i text you 

and you call me just to tell me that it’s all bullshit 

and that i need to keep on fighting cos 

my time will come. 

It is 

the small 

tiny things. 

synchronised menstrual cycles

bleeding at the same time

renewing our systems with 

new dreams, powering through it with lots of 

chocolate and sylvia plath.

it is dismantling patriarchy around a glass of wine at the 

local pub 

watching louis theroux documentaries and 

falling asleep on the settee. 

It is spoken word nights

safe spaces and 

unsafe ones 

street harassment and trying to 

navigate through this all without getting 

raped.

It is the length of your skirt

my armpit hairs 

sexist comments in the workplace 

it is holding you on the phone when i walk alone after a night out 

It is saying i believe in you when you feel like a failure and that at twenty five 

you still don’t have the dream job and the dream life you thought you’d have when you were fifteen 

It is saying “fuck that” 

It is moving overseas but still video calling 

spending hours laughing and crying 

remembering the good old days.

It is not letting life get in between. 

It is 

no small talks on our first dates 

fuck the weather fuck the rain 

let’s go straight to your 

daddy issues and your 

childhood traumas, 

I want to know the name of your first kiss 

I want to know if it was gross or beautiful 

or maybe both

and i want to know how you are feeling in your guts now, 

right now, 

As we speak. 

 

i miss your old industrial buildings turned into work of art through the years and i miss your very soul and your cracked bones and your spine tired of carrying the weight of your past i miss your people and how progressive they are despite everything i miss your authenticity and your gritty derelict streets i miss your language i miss you…

 

… berlin.

 

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You tell me how to be a woman in 2018

and I will tell you how I pretend to be on the phone when I am walking alone and it’s dark outside
I will tell you about the keys in between my knuckles and the anxiety when I get stuck in crowds
I will tell you that a hundred years later
women still don’t have control over their own bodies
I will tell you about the Repeal Campaign in Ireland and the thousands of women travelling out of the country to end pregnancies
I will tell you about my teenage years spent starving myself trying to look like someone you might like
I will tell you that my body is not a place for cowards
you cannot find it on your map
I will tell you about entering rooms stinking of unwanted sex
I will tell you
about that time in the car
with my Dad,
I was wearing a dress and he said
“You should ask your Mum to show you how to get rid of the hairs on your legs”

I was 12

I will tell you the
“It’s just a bit of banter love, why don’t you take it as a compliment?
Why don’t you just…
smile?”

I will tell you how he carried on after she said
stop
how he pretended not to hear anything but his heavy breath on her neck

why would anything else matter in the end

I will tell you about the cracks in her voice at the police station when she told them she was raped, and the questions they asked
“What were you wearing?
Were you drunk?”

I will tell you about the fear in her eyes when she walked out from the house for the first time since then.
She never knew that going to the corner shop to buy cigarettes would become a nightmare.

I will tell you about the quiet sexism
the one creeping up on your back when you thought you were safe
the invisible because socially accepted

I will tell you about the engrained patriarchy
The grope-my-arse-in-clubs misogyny and how we need to ask for help from Angela to get out of messy situations
We probably just asked for it anyway
I will tell you about the disgusted looks i get when people realise i have armpit hair
sorry mate to tarnish your wanking session watching porn at 1 a.m

created by men and for men mistaking

disrespect for consentual sex

sorry for reinforcing the idea that feminists are all

hariy-hysterical-men-haters.

You should read a book once in a while.

I will tell you about the white stretch marks on my hips
and the ones still purple in between my legs.

the permanent reminder that
I will always be my own enemy.

I will tell you about being brought up in a world where I constantly compare myself to others
where anxiety and depression are common things and yet cannot be openly spoken by men

I suppose being a vulnerable human is not masculine enough

I will tell you about gender as a construct
people born trapped in the wrong body,
spending most of their lives trying to accept who they are
to please your narrow walled mind

I will tell you about people getting disturbed once the lines get blurred
How they will always want you to fit in a tiny box too small for you and for your big beautiful self
striving to shine no matter what they say

so you tell me how to be a woman in 2018
and i will tell you to fuck off

 

Festival Of Debate Closing Party and Centenary Celebration of some women getting the right to vote at Abbeydale Picture House – 29th June 2018.

Get Your Pits Out

As women living in a Western society in 2018, we are still facing sexism on a daily basis.
Here is a series of photographs presenting a few things:
On how being your true self and your natural self is an act of resistance
how we are pressured to conform to one label
to tick one type of box
on how
blurry lines are disturbing to the general public
how education, reading, writing, are seen as threats
instead of weapons
to build a fairer and more equal world.
how every private experience is public
and therefore
political.
how going out onto the streets and shouting our truths in sisterhood
(and not only cis-terhood)
is the most
powerful
tool we own.
how in 2018,
we shouldn’t have to call a friend on our way home to feel safer late at night.
how every woman is pressured to
aspire to be a
mother.
how we need to create safer spaces
how we still don’t have equal pay
how rape culture is omnipresent in universities
how a binary world is just not an option anymore and how the fate of
gender and
identity
encompasses
layers and
layers.
and finally, on how silence is a form of violence.
Hand in hand, we say
NO.

 

Project made for SheFest 2018 with Megan Crawford and was part of the exhibition #fightingtalk2018 at 35 Chapel Walk, Sheffield, UK.three edited smallTwo Edited smallFinal Test small

sleep it away

Holt018

 

i will just sleep it away.

that’s what i do.

when the words become too loud,

i crush them with my big heavy boots,

i bury them deep down and

i forget about it.

you will forget about it too.

you will forget why I wasn’t quite myself

last night.

why i was so quiet and

why i had tears in my eyes.

and we will start again.

i’ll spend the day

pretending i am

fine and that,

my heart is not an empty plastic bag.

i’ll spend the day smiling til it hurts my

muscles.

and then i’ll go back home,

thinking of all the people i miss,

trying to fill up my empty plastic bag with light,

trying to keep my eyes dry and

just,

sleep it away.