Promise No Promises!

The tenth and final episode of the Feminism Under Corona chapter follows a conversation with poet, playwright and theatre director Koleka Putuma. Author of the poetry book Collective Amnesia (2017) and the play No Easter Sunday for Queers (2017), she is Founder and Director of Manyano Media, a multidisciplinary project that produces and supports the work and stories of black queer artists and queer life.In a digital encounter last year, Koleka and rapper and songwriter Sho Madjozi were talking about ways of moving the poetry industry forward. Apparently, the term poetry is not related to industrial production. However, a closer look shows that poetry is indeed a part of the industry. For not only books or the materials that make them up are produced, but poetry and its authors have to negotiate continuously with contracts, copyrights, royalties, dissemination and presentation processes, etc. The work of poets and the writers encompasses not only the writing itself alone, but at the same time a constant task of administration and care in order to not only understand the system of the cultural industry they belong to, but to find out how to be able to enact with it. It is for this reason that for Koleka, poetry includes everything that makes it happen in very different ways.This conversation with Koleka Putuma took place at the end of January 2021. Koleka was in Cape Town and Sonia was in Berlin. They talked a lot about poetry, as a practice, as part of her early biography and as a working context. The pandemic appeared also from the social impact and political power that language holds. As we know, the very nature of a virus includes as part of its evolutionary process continuous transformations over time. The fact that these new variants appear in specific regions of this planet should not add national labels to the new mutations. They produce ideological implications and spread accumulated prejudices. And yet the media and many governments insist on referring territorially to processes that are beyond national identities. Structural violence against women and femicides are a pandemic long before the one produced by Covid-19. At the present time, not only do the two coexist structurally, but the current situation generally intensifies violence against women. Every Three Hours (2019) is a poem by Koleka Putuma that refers to the murder rate of womxn in South Africa and the insufficient state and social support to end this pervasive violence. In a world that depicts so many forms of violence in graphs and statistics, poetry and words are able to speak of what numbers do not count and do not tell.

The ninth episode is the result of a conversation with Christina Sharpe, scholar of English literature and Black Studies. Author of the books Monstrous Intimacies: Making Post-Slavery Subjects (2010) and In the Wake: On Blackness and Being (2016), she is currently a professor at York University in Toronto, Canada. Christina Sharpe's voice appeared earlier in several episodes of the “Corona Under the Ocean” podcast series over the course of 2020. Astrida Neimanis, Filipa Ramos or Elizabeth Povinelli would mention her work in the different conversations we had from the ocean and towards the waters. In the Wake is a book that I started to read in other people's voices but that does not let itself be translated into other people's words. It has its own different grammar that reveals and recounts grammar as a form of power. It’s an essay written in first person that tells the history and present of the black diaspora, the structural and constitutive anti-blackness of white colonialism and capitalism. During our conversation, Christina emphasized that the use of the first person and her own biography when writing In the Wake is not intended to speak of her individual experience as exceptional, but rather as an exercise in openness towards the historical and structural dimension of the book. Black suffering, also black resistance, must be contextualized in the long history of structural anti-blackness. Christina also tells how some people have seen in In the Wake a book about Black Death when it is also a book about Black Life, about forms of collective resistance within a constantly hostile climate. "I am interested in the ways we live in and despite that terror," she says. Being “in the wake” also implies the existence and possibility of "wake work". This conversation with Christina Sharpe took place at the end of December 2020. Christina was in Toronto and I was in Berlin. We began by talking about the sea and water and how her thinking is a thinking with water and with authors who think with water. It is also a form of tidal thinking, where Christina's voice carries many other voices and works in an explicit and non-linear way. Although speaking and writing can produce very different languages from each other, Christina Sharpe's way of speaking contains her writing and vice versa. In this conversation, not only do other voices appear within her own, but the writing itself becomes voice thanks to the organic becoming of talking into reading aloud. When writing is inscribed in bodies, they remind us that thinking is also visceral and material.

The ninth episode is the result of a conversation with Christina Sharpe, scholar of English literature and Black Studies. Author of the books Monstrous Intimacies: Making Post-Slavery Subjects (2010) and In the Wake: On Blackness and Being (2016), she is currently a professor at York University in Toronto, Canada. Christina Sharpe's voice appeared earlier in several episodes of the “Corona Under the Ocean” podcast series over the course of 2020. Astrida Neimanis, Filipa Ramos or Elizabeth Povinelli would mention her work in the different conversations we had from the ocean and towards the waters. In the Wake is a book that I started to read in other people's voices but that does not let itself be translated into other people's words. It has its own different grammar that reveals and recounts grammar as a form of power. It’s an essay written in first person that tells the history and present of the black diaspora, the structural and constitutive anti-blackness of white colonialism and capitalism. During our conversation, Christina emphasized that the use of the first person and her own biography when writing In the Wake is not intended to speak of her individual experience as exceptional, but rather as an exercise in openness towards the historical and structural dimension of the book. Black suffering, also black resistance, must be contextualized in the long history of structural anti-blackness. Christina also tells how some people have seen in In the Wake a book about Black Death when it is also a book about Black Life, about forms of collective resistance within a constantly hostile climate. "I am interested in the ways we live in and despite that terror," she says. Being “in the wake” also implies the existence and possibility of "wake work". This conversation with Christina Sharpe took place at the end of December 2020. Christina was in Toronto and I was in Berlin. We began by talking about the sea and water and how her thinking is a thinking with water and with authors who think with water. It is also a form of tidal thinking, where Christina's voice carries many other voices and works in an explicit and non-linear way. Although speaking and writing can produce very different languages from each other, Christina Sharpe's way of speaking contains her writing and vice versa. In this conversation, not only do other voices appear within her own, but the writing itself becomes voice thanks to the organic becoming of talking into reading aloud. When writing is inscribed in bodies, they remind us that thinking is also visceral and material.

The podcast Promise No Promises! opens a new chapter called “Feminisms in the Caribbean”. This series of 4 new episodes arises from personal conversations between curator and writer Sonia Fernández Pan and art practitioners from the Caribbean region. The collaboration is part of the public program of the past exhibition "one month after being known in that island" at the Kulturstiftung Basel H. Geiger with the Caribbean Art Initiative.The changeful history of the colonization of the Caribbean has left deep scars that are still present today. This is best known by artists and cultural practitioners who work in their own way on an identity of its own for the Antilles. The term “Caribbean” here is used primarily in a geographical sense to help overcoming local antagonisms between different political systems, languages and cultures, while allowing artists of all origins to exchange ideas and thus work together on a Caribbean identity. This series of podcasts aims to engage with a plurality of voices from different backgrounds to think with them on the diversity implicit in the notion of identity. The first episode follows a conversation with artist Beatriz Santiago Muñoz. Her projects involve long periods of contact, observation and documentation of the places she chose to work with. Beatriz is aware of the camera as an experiential device and aesthetic instrument that expands the perception of the human eye and psyche, and a carrier and producer of ideology. Various types of gaze converge in it: the male gaze, the white gaze, the military gaze, the human gaze... This is why Beatriz Santiago Muñoz practice means thinking with places, with their differences and particularities, in order not to reproduce the same human and historical logic, for example, like the notion of the exotic, a mindset supported by the tourism industry, constantly reproducing Western colonial imaginaries.Thinking with places, in the plural, is a way of accounting for the diversity of environments. It is also a way of overcoming the misleading binary division between the local and the universal. The material dimension of thinking not only refers to using a body to think, but to practice the thinking through objects. They are invisible agents within the history of thought and at the same time systems of interactions in constant transformation. The enormous production of images of our present makes us think that everything has been represented, that everything is visible. This is not true. What has been over-represented is a partial way of understanding reality, not realities themselves. Therefore, Beatriz proposes the possibility of creating images without spectators or even a cinema without an audience. Working from the margins of representation produces a marginal territory that questions the natural assumption of a center.

The podcast Promise No Promises! opens a new chapter called “Feminisms in the Caribbean”. This series of 4 new episodes arises from personal conversations between curator and writer Sonia Fernández Pan and art practitioners from the Caribbean region. The collaboration is part of the public program of the past exhibition "one month after being known in that island" at the Kulturstiftung Basel H. Geiger with the Caribbean Art Initiative.The changeful history of the colonization of the Caribbean has left deep scars that are still present today. This is best known by artists and cultural practitioners who work in their own way on an identity of its own for the Antilles. The term “Caribbean” here is used primarily in a geographical sense to help overcoming local antagonisms between different political systems, languages and cultures, while allowing artists of all origins to exchange ideas and thus work together on a Caribbean identity. This series of podcasts aims to engage with a plurality of voices from different backgrounds to think with them on the diversity implicit in the notion of identity. The first episode follows a conversation with artist Beatriz Santiago Muñoz. Her projects involve long periods of contact, observation and documentation of the places she chose to work with. Beatriz is aware of the camera as an experiential device and aesthetic instrument that expands the perception of the human eye and psyche, and a carrier and producer of ideology. Various types of gaze converge in it: the male gaze, the white gaze, the military gaze, the human gaze... This is why Beatriz Santiago Muñoz practice means thinking with places, with their differences and particularities, in order not to reproduce the same human and historical logic, for example, like the notion of the exotic, a mindset supported by the tourism industry, constantly reproducing Western colonial imaginaries.Thinking with places, in the plural, is a way of accounting for the diversity of environments. It is also a way of overcoming the misleading binary division between the local and the universal. The material dimension of thinking not only refers to using a body to think, but to practice the thinking through objects. They are invisible agents within the history of thought and at the same time systems of interactions in constant transformation. The enormous production of images of our present makes us think that everything has been represented, that everything is visible. This is not true. What has been over-represented is a partial way of understanding reality, not realities themselves. Therefore, Beatriz proposes the possibility of creating images without spectators or even a cinema without an audience. Working from the margins of representation produces a marginal territory that questions the natural assumption of a center.

The eighth episode of the Feminism Under Corona series is the result of an audio-epistolary conversation with Silvia Agüero Fernández that took place in November 2020. On her Twitter account she introduces herself as follows: “Mother, Gitana, Mestiza, Feminist. Worker in my home. In the ghetto I discovered my Roma identity, outside the ghetto I discovered anti-Roma harassment”. The conversation was translated by Ainhoa Nadia Douhaibi Arrazola, a social educator and co-author of the book The Radicalization of Racism. Islamophobia and the Prevention of Terrorism (2019).The rules imposed during the confinement have at no point taken into account the particularities and vital needs of many idiosyncrasies and individuals. In the case of the Roma people, restrictions on their traditional professions, itinerant trade, open-air markets and artistic creation have left many without work, income, and food. And it is seriously affecting the economic freedom of Romany women. The lack of political support and understanding has led to the creation of different networks between platforms and members of the Roma community. Silvia Agüero Fernández writes in one of her articles published in Pikara Magazine: “The Roma insurrection is the ultimate resistance to the established system, it is my alternative to a world, to a system of thought, economy and society that others have established”.Together with Nicolás Jiménez Gonzalez, Silvia Agüero Fernández runs the project Pretendemos Gitanizar el Mundo, a valuable archive in process where they create and share a counter-narrative to fight structural and cultural anti-gitanismo. As a specific form of racism against Roma, anti-gitanismo is not only condoned but also trivialized. Their project proposes an in-depth study through numerous articles of scientific, historical and cultural popularization, while also providing support for institutions and associations that want to fight against anti-Roma harassments. In the particular case of Romany women, anti-gitanismo is merged with structural patriarchy. As Silvia Agüero Fernández tells, feminism has always existed among Romany women. It is born and lived in the kitchens of homes and within families. It is a box of tools, values and struggles that are transmitted from women to women through emotional proximity and by ways of living together. The leader’s narrative, omnipresent in feminism, creates a herstory that makes invisible the work and daily forms of resistance of so many women throughout history. Within those forms there has been the feminism of Romany women for centuries, which is an ongoing collective anti-racist and anti-capitalist resistance.

The eighth episode of the Feminism Under Corona series is the result of an audio-epistolary conversation with Silvia Agüero Fernández that took place in November 2020. On her Twitter account she introduces herself as follows: “Mother, Gitana, Mestiza, Feminist. Worker in my home. In the ghetto I discovered my Roma identity, outside the ghetto I discovered anti-Roma harassment”. The conversation was translated by Ainhoa Nadia Douhaibi Arrazola, a social educator and co-author of the book The Radicalization of Racism. Islamophobia and the Prevention of Terrorism (2019).The rules imposed during the confinement have at no point taken into account the particularities and vital needs of many idiosyncrasies and individuals. In the case of the Roma people, restrictions on their traditional professions, itinerant trade, open-air markets and artistic creation have left many without work, income, and food. And it is seriously affecting the economic freedom of Romany women. The lack of political support and understanding has led to the creation of different networks between platforms and members of the Roma community. Silvia Agüero Fernández writes in one of her articles published in Pikara Magazine: “The Roma insurrection is the ultimate resistance to the established system, it is my alternative to a world, to a system of thought, economy and society that others have established”.Together with Nicolás Jiménez Gonzalez, Silvia Agüero Fernández runs the project Pretendemos Gitanizar el Mundo, a valuable archive in process where they create and share a counter-narrative to fight structural and cultural anti-gitanismo. As a specific form of racism against Roma, anti-gitanismo is not only condoned but also trivialized. Their project proposes an in-depth study through numerous articles of scientific, historical and cultural popularization, while also providing support for institutions and associations that want to fight against anti-Roma harassments. In the particular case of Romany women, anti-gitanismo is merged with structural patriarchy. As Silvia Agüero Fernández tells, feminism has always existed among Romany women. It is born and lived in the kitchens of homes and within families. It is a box of tools, values and struggles that are transmitted from women to women through emotional proximity and by ways of living together. The leader’s narrative, omnipresent in feminism, creates a herstory that makes invisible the work and daily forms of resistance of so many women throughout history. Within those forms there has been the feminism of Romany women for centuries, which is an ongoing collective anti-racist and anti-capitalist resistance.

The seventh episode of the Feminism Under Corona series follows a conversation with Mariam Khan, writer and editor of the book "It's not about the Burqa" (2019). This first-person anthology of essays of seventeen Muslim women's stories gives rise to a collective voice where differences are as important as similarities in creating a community of their own within the spectrum of feminism and world-making. Reading this book is like being anonymously invited to meet another community of feminists. But not in order to talk to or discuss with them, but mainly to listen and to unlearn. One way of presenting It's not about the Burqa is the final statement by its editor, Mariam Khan, in the introduction: “We are not asking for permission anymore. We are taking up space. We’ve listed a lot of people talking about who Muslim women are without actually hearing Muslim women. So now, we are speaking. And now, it's your turn to listen.”As Mariam Khan herself says, seventeen texts are only seventeen voices within the myriad of ways Muslim women think and act around the world. When feminism is concerned only with a few women, then it ceases to be liberating and becomes a tool of oppression for a large number of women. One of the many clichés that Mariam Khan and all the authors of the book dismantle is the moral superiority of the secular West over religious cultures. Islam as a religion that empowers women is a constant affirmation in the book, which the authors demonstrate with historical facts and practices.The conversation with Mariam Khan took place at the end of October 2020. She was in London and Sonia Fernández Pan in Berlin. With the arrival of autumn and the glaring increase of infections and deaths, most European governments have imposed a second lockdown. The state of vigilance and mutual accountability that has emerged during the pandemic is however not new to Muslim women in Western Societies. The Western Gaze is a form of violence that police their bodies and exoticizes them, misrepresenting Muslim women as submissive and equal to each other whereas the reality is very much different. Now that we all have to wear a mask in public for reasons of health and mutual care, a necessary question that reappears is: Why are some reasons more legitimate than others to cover or uncover faces or bodies? "It's not about the Burqa" is a book that brings up the present and past of Muslim women in the British context, but also their future. The fight for women’s right is to fight for all women’s right and all their different communities. Making it real may be complicated, but understanding it is the first step that has to be taken.

The seventh episode of the Feminism Under Corona series follows a conversation with Mariam Khan, writer and editor of the book "It's not about the Burqa" (2019). This first-person anthology of essays of seventeen Muslim women's stories gives rise to a collective voice where differences are as important as similarities in creating a community of their own within the spectrum of feminism and world-making. Reading this book is like being anonymously invited to meet another community of feminists. But not in order to talk to or discuss with them, but mainly to listen and to unlearn. One way of presenting It's not about the Burqa is the final statement by its editor, Mariam Khan, in the introduction: “We are not asking for permission anymore. We are taking up space. We’ve listed a lot of people talking about who Muslim women are without actually hearing Muslim women. So now, we are speaking. And now, it's your turn to listen.”As Mariam Khan herself says, seventeen texts are only seventeen voices within the myriad of ways Muslim women think and act around the world. When feminism is concerned only with a few women, then it ceases to be liberating and becomes a tool of oppression for a large number of women. One of the many clichés that Mariam Khan and all the authors of the book dismantle is the moral superiority of the secular West over religious cultures. Islam as a religion that empowers women is a constant affirmation in the book, which the authors demonstrate with historical facts and practices.The conversation with Mariam Khan took place at the end of October 2020. She was in London and Sonia Fernández Pan in Berlin. With the arrival of autumn and the glaring increase of infections and deaths, most European governments have imposed a second lockdown. The state of vigilance and mutual accountability that has emerged during the pandemic is however not new to Muslim women in Western Societies. The Western Gaze is a form of violence that police their bodies and exoticizes them, misrepresenting Muslim women as submissive and equal to each other whereas the reality is very much different. Now that we all have to wear a mask in public for reasons of health and mutual care, a necessary question that reappears is: Why are some reasons more legitimate than others to cover or uncover faces or bodies? "It's not about the Burqa" is a book that brings up the present and past of Muslim women in the British context, but also their future. The fight for women’s right is to fight for all women’s right and all their different communities. Making it real may be complicated, but understanding it is the first step that has to be taken.

The sixth episode of Feminism Under Corona is based on a conversation with Australian-born and New York-based writer and scholar McKenzie Wark, who is known for her writings on critical theory and new media. Her latest book “Reverse Cowgirl” has been published by Semiotext(e) in 2020. Somehow, reading books starts always in reverse. We turn them over with our hands, looking for answers in advance on the back cover. However, “Reverse Cowgirl” is not a book made to satisfy questions, not even those of the author herself regarding her own biography. The following conversation with McKenzie Wark does not provide a continuation of her book. It actually starts with her reflections on Marx. Her critique of capitalism is at the same time a critique of the concepts that the critique of capitalism itself constantly produces. What kind of economy produces information that is turned into a commodity? How can we call the system we live in, which in fact parasites our bodies individually and collectively in order to expand and to survive? The struggles in which many concepts and many anonymous bodies are involved in are extremely important. When we think about the concept of Feminism, it becomes violent and discriminatory when there is no recognition of the enormous differences between bodies and the lives lived by those bodies. Feminism, if not perceived as intersectional, is in danger of producing oppressive and exclusionary paradigms. Capitalism needs our bodies to be healthy and functioning in order to be able to continue working for it, but it does not offer the same support to all people. Race, class and gender are some of the many elements to consider when we think about health. However, it’s also true that past struggles for better and more accessible health systems provide experiences and strategies from which we can learn in the present. The rather pessimistic spirit in thinking about the future was nevertheless accompanied by a certain festive spirit thanks to the emergence of nightlife and dance culture during our conversation. The genealogy, bodies and culture that techno music produces are different from those of other music realities. In fact, each type of music shows that there is not one homogenous dance community, but many communities made up of different bodies and experiences. The same applies to Feminism. We should never forget that there is always more than one community and that communities exist in continuous transformation and differences.

The sixth episode of Feminism Under Corona is based on a conversation with Australian-born and New York-based writer and scholar McKenzie Wark, who is known for her writings on critical theory and new media. Her latest book “Reverse Cowgirl” has been published by Semiotext(e) in 2020. Somehow, reading books starts always in reverse. We turn them over with our hands, looking for answers in advance on the back cover. However, “Reverse Cowgirl” is not a book made to satisfy questions, not even those of the author herself regarding her own biography. The following conversation with McKenzie Wark does not provide a continuation of her book. It actually starts with her reflections on Marx. Her critique of capitalism is at the same time a critique of the concepts that the critique of capitalism itself constantly produces. What kind of economy produces information that is turned into a commodity? How can we call the system we live in, which in fact parasites our bodies individually and collectively in order to expand and to survive? The struggles in which many concepts and many anonymous bodies are involved in are extremely important. When we think about the concept of Feminism, it becomes violent and discriminatory when there is no recognition of the enormous differences between bodies and the lives lived by those bodies. Feminism, if not perceived as intersectional, is in danger of producing oppressive and exclusionary paradigms. Capitalism needs our bodies to be healthy and functioning in order to be able to continue working for it, but it does not offer the same support to all people. Race, class and gender are some of the many elements to consider when we think about health. However, it’s also true that past struggles for better and more accessible health systems provide experiences and strategies from which we can learn in the present. The rather pessimistic spirit in thinking about the future was nevertheless accompanied by a certain festive spirit thanks to the emergence of nightlife and dance culture during our conversation. The genealogy, bodies and culture that techno music produces are different from those of other music realities. In fact, each type of music shows that there is not one homogenous dance community, but many communities made up of different bodies and experiences. The same applies to Feminism. We should never forget that there is always more than one community and that communities exist in continuous transformation and differences.

The fifth episode is based on a conversation with interdisciplinary artist Melanie Jame Wolf, whose work critically circulates within the flow of immaterial capital by using the performative condition and potential of our identities. The conversation between Sonia Fernández Pan and Melanie Jame Wolf incorporated some of the many elephants in the (art) room, such as social class, age, or “undisciplined” bodies in the field of performance, dance, and choreography. It was also an opportunity to talk about social networks and the inevitable perverse functioning of symbolic capital in and through them. As Melanie Jame Wolf points out, contemporary social networks enable a construction of personas similar to those that formerly used to happen in the media space of music videos. Pop is a fundamental component of her artistic and vital practice, including many attributes, gestures, behaviors, and objects associated with a type of femininity that was and still is stigmatized by some sort of feminist thinking that denies the sensual and pleasurable dimension of bodies. One that does not include sex workers and their concerns within its political agenda. But can any “feminism” that does not take into account all the factors of the complex and effective relationship between privilege and oppression even be called “feminism”? What is the meaning and use of essential points in a performative reality? The Gaze, written in capital letters, which Melanie Jame Wolf incorporates into her text as a kind of character within her story, also infiltrates feminism in the manner of a judge who determines the validity or appropriateness of those bodies that are not only gazed at but are continually surveilled – and at the same time, surveilling themselves and others. But just as scripts in conversations exist to deviate from them, so do social scripts exist to be renewed and consequently refused.

The fifth episode is based on a conversation with interdisciplinary artist Melanie Jame Wolf, whose work critically circulates within the flow of immaterial capital by using the performative condition and potential of our identities. The conversation between Sonia Fernández Pan and Melanie Jame Wolf incorporated some of the many elephants in the (art) room, such as social class, age, or “undisciplined” bodies in the field of performance, dance, and choreography. It was also an opportunity to talk about social networks and the inevitable perverse functioning of symbolic capital in and through them. As Melanie Jame Wolf points out, contemporary social networks enable a construction of personas similar to those that formerly used to happen in the media space of music videos. Pop is a fundamental component of her artistic and vital practice, including many attributes, gestures, behaviors, and objects associated with a type of femininity that was and still is stigmatized by some sort of feminist thinking that denies the sensual and pleasurable dimension of bodies. One that does not include sex workers and their concerns within its political agenda. But can any “feminism” that does not take into account all the factors of the complex and effective relationship between privilege and oppression even be called “feminism”? What is the meaning and use of essential points in a performative reality? The Gaze, written in capital letters, which Melanie Jame Wolf incorporates into her text as a kind of character within her story, also infiltrates feminism in the manner of a judge who determines the validity or appropriateness of those bodies that are not only gazed at but are continually surveilled – and at the same time, surveilling themselves and others. But just as scripts in conversations exist to deviate from them, so do social scripts exist to be renewed and consequently refused.

This episode is based on a conversation with Ana Garzón Sabogal, who lives and works in Colombia. In her practice she is operating with the close encounter between art, collaborative learning, activism, and free culture, and is member of Más Arte Más Acción, together with Alejandra Rojas Giraldo. Their practice includes a feminism which stems from the critical conscience and from the understanding of feminist practices as depending on the material conditions of each context, of each community and of each person. The same applies to the political question of language, because of the enormous need to learn, to know, to listen to and share other voices during this pandemic and beyond. This is a work that Ana has done together with many people from the different collectives she is part of, translating texts into English in order to be able to share with peers and people from other cultural contexts the current thinking and making that are happening now in Colombia. If conversations could be translated into objects, perhaps this encounter between Sonia Fernández Pan and Ana Garzón Sabogal could be a toolbox full of acts of survival in constant motion.

This episode is based on a conversation with Ana Garzón Sabogal, who lives and works in Colombia. In her practice she is operating with the close encounter between art, collaborative learning, activism, and free culture, and is member of Más Arte Más Acción, together with Alejandra Rojas Giraldo. Their practice includes a feminism which stems from the critical conscience and from the understanding of feminist practices as depending on the material conditions of each context, of each community and of each person. The same applies to the political question of language, because of the enormous need to learn, to know, to listen to and share other voices during this pandemic and beyond. This is a work that Ana has done together with many people from the different collectives she is part of, translating texts into English in order to be able to share with peers and people from other cultural contexts the current thinking and making that are happening now in Colombia. If conversations could be translated into objects, perhaps this encounter between Sonia Fernández Pan and Ana Garzón Sabogal could be a toolbox full of acts of survival in constant motion.