Leigh

Scroll to Info & Navigation

thefeministpress:

Can’t believe we neglected to wish everyone a happy Ada Lovelace Day yesterday! 
Ada Lovelace was a female mathematician born in 1815 who worked with Charles Babbage on one of the earliest computers.
Of particular interest to us at the Feminist Press, she was an accomplished science writer- she wrote explanations for how the innovative machine worked and indeed how to program the early computer. Science writing is its own talent, and she proved her abilities and in-depth analytic understanding through her writing. 
She proves women have long been making important strides in STEM fields like mathematics and computer programming. And yet still women in science are rarely acknowledged or encouraged. 
Come discuss modern day issues for women in science at our FREE event, STEMinism, next Thursday! Register here!

thefeministpress:

Can’t believe we neglected to wish everyone a happy Ada Lovelace Day yesterday! 

Ada Lovelace was a female mathematician born in 1815 who worked with Charles Babbage on one of the earliest computers.

Of particular interest to us at the Feminist Press, she was an accomplished science writer- she wrote explanations for how the innovative machine worked and indeed how to program the early computer. Science writing is its own talent, and she proved her abilities and in-depth analytic understanding through her writing. 

She proves women have long been making important strides in STEM fields like mathematics and computer programming. And yet still women in science are rarely acknowledged or encouraged. 

Come discuss modern day issues for women in science at our FREE event, STEMinism, next Thursday! Register here!

Sweet Cheese and Prejudice

image

[This personal essay is the next chapter of a micro-memoir published by the International Museum of Women. Photo of syrup and kanafeh by Idit Keren]

We left Nablus’ ancient bathhouse. On the way to eat kanafeh, we somehow ended up at a Palestinian professor’s house. He was hosting a small gathering of international volunteers and a few men from Nablus, including teachers from the nearby school. The house sat perched high in the hills. The backyard balcony offered a sweeping view of the city below. The home itself was built with smooth stones and stretches of white marble with gray swirls. From the balcony, we gazed out at hills speckled with olive trees. The sunset draped the world in a blood orange glow.

I don’t know how the joke started, because I wasn’t paying attention to the group. I was busy nagging the school teacher with jowls and an untamed moustache. The one who brought us here.

“Let’s go, you said we were going to get kanafeh in the shuk,” I whined. He had promised we would just stop by this house for a minute to “say hi.” My host, a school teacher I met that same afternoon, told me the taxi would take us to kanafeh in the Nablus city center. I bit my lip when it drove us somewhere on the distant outskirts of the city instead. I had no idea where we were now. We entered a huge white home without any real furniture or shelves in the living room. Inside it felt like a skeleton without organs.

 

Read more

I want to laugh so that later I can get angry like I need to get. I want to make and think something funny and tender and kind so that I recognize the opposite when it comes for me, so that I can say ‘No’ to a corporation, so that I cannot buy what someone means to sell me. Poetry is so high stakes. Humor is wholly tied up in those stakes for me.

Wendy Xu, interviewed by Ben Seanor for Front Porch Journal (via bostonpoetryslam)

(via poetsandwriters)