Remembrance of things past

When I was 18 and bitter and living in Unity House and helping plan a week’s worth of events for Trans Awareness Week, it occurred to me that we set aside no time just for our history. Awareness, sure. Days for remembrance and visibility, but not history. My interest in
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Protest on Sproul Plaza during the Free Speech Movement


It’s times like now, in early June, when Telegraph Avenue is sparse and Sproul Plaza is almost dead, when tourists outnumber students and strangers outnumber familiar faces, that Berkeley seems to breathe the life back into itself. I find myself looking at this place, for the first time since freshman
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