Sep 23, 2017
Near the canal Saint Martin in Paris TEDxIstec team is about to host TED Global Day. #tedxistec #tedxglobalday #tedxglobal #istec #TED (à Istec École Supérieure de Commerce et Marketing)
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Near the canal Saint Martin in Paris TEDxIstec team is about to host TED Global Day. #tedxistec #tedxglobalday #tedxglobal #istec #TED (à Istec École Supérieure de Commerce et Marketing)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
@TEDxFSCJ Learning Adventures in our #Leadership class watching #TEDxGlobal>NYC. #tedxfscj (at Florida State College At Jacksonville - Kent Campus)
Rio De Janeiro.
What Journalists Talk About.
Before interviewing a member of Brazil's Quilombos (descendents of runway slaves) communities, living in a fancy burb of Rio De Janeiro
T: "Girl. I love Brazil"
A: Yeah it's great.
T: So what's night life like?
A: Amazing. Wanna Do Samba Tonight?
T: Yeaaa, How Are The Drinks?
A: *smiles
Stay Tuned.
Brazil Copacabana TedXGlobal Set Up Amazing.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Breaks Clustered
Breaks Clustered
a poem by Suheir Hammad
All holy history banned. Unwritten books predicted the future, projected the past, but my head unwraps around what appears limitless, man’s creative violence.
Whose son shall it be? Which male child will perish a new day? Our boys’ death galvanize. We cherish corpses. We mourn women, complicated. Bitches get beat daily. Profits made, prophets ignored. War and tooth enameled salted lemon childhoods. All colors run, none of us solid.
Don’t look for shadow behind me. I carry it within. I live cycles of light and darkness. Rhythm is half silence. I see now, I never was one and not the other. Sickness, health, tender violence, I think now I never was pure. Before form I was storm, blind, ign’ant - still am. Humanity contracted itself blind, malignant. I never was pure.
Girl spoiled before ripened. Language cannot math me. I experience exponentially. Everything is everything. One woman loses 15, maybe 20, members of her family. One woman loses six. One woman loses her head. One woman searches rubble. One woman feeds on trash. One woman shoots her face. One woman shoots her husband. One woman straps herself. One woman gives birth to a baby. One woman gives birth to borders. One woman no longer believes love will ever find her. One woman never did. Where do refugee hearts go? Broken, dissed, placed where they are not from, don’t want to be missed. Faced with absence. We mourn each one or we mean nothing at all.
My spine curves spiral. Precipice running to and running from human beings. Cluster bombs left behind. De facto land mines. Smoldering grief. Harvest contaminated tobacco. Harvest bombs. Harvest baby teeths. Harvest palms, smoke. Harvest witness, smoke. Resolutions, smoke. Salvation, smoke. Redemption, smoke.
Breathe.
Do not fear what has blown up.
If you must, fear the unexploded.
What I will
a poem by Suheir Hammad
I will not dance to your war drum. I will not lend my soul nor my bones to your war drum. I will not dance to your beating. I know that beat. It is lifeless. I know intimately that skin you are hitting. It was alive once hunted stolen stretched. I will not dance to your drummed up war. I will not pop spin beak for you. I will not hate for you or even hate you. I will not kill for you. Especially I will not die for you. I will not mourn the dead with murder nor suicide. I will not side with you nor dance to bombs because everyone else is dancing. Everyone can be wrong. Life is a right not collateral or casual. I will not forget where I come from. I will craft my own drum. Gather my beloved near and our chanting will be dancing. Our humming will be drumming. I will not be played. I will not lend my name nor my rhythm to your beat. I will dance and resist and dance and persist and dance. This heartbeat is louder than death. Your war drum ain’t louder than this breath.