Haiti faces immense challenges, including political instability, gang violence, and barriers to healthcare, especially for expectant mothers. These issues are vividly portrayed in N'AP Boule, a short film featuring a young couple navigating protests and dangerous streets in a bid to reach a hospital before the birth of their first child. In this interview, filmmaker Alexandrine Benjamin shares the inspiration behind N'AP Boule and her mission to shed light on the maternal health crisis in Haiti. The film’s powerful message aims to move viewers to support Haitians’ struggles and push for change.

I live in Salt Lake City, which lies between the Wasatch Mountains and Great Salt Lake, on the ancestral lands of the Ute, Goshute, and Shoshone peoples. My ancestors are Mormon settlers who colonized the Salt Lake Valley in the 1800s. Like many here, I became concerned in the last few years about the drying of Great Salt Lake.

During this year’s annual Carnival festival in Trinidad and Tobago’s capital city of Port of Spain, a Moko Jumbi – a traditional stilt walker and spirit dancer – paraded the streets representing Palestine and demanding an immediate ceasefire in Gaza. In Trinbagonian culture, the Moko Jumbie represents a spirit walking over and protecting the souls of all those who were massacred and lost during the transatlantic slave trade. This year, its mission was extended to solidarity with the Palestinian people.

Steve Peraza speaks with James J. Coughlin, a public historian and author of the 2023 zine, City of Distant Neighbors: The Proliferation and Entrenchment of Residential Segregation in Buffalo, New York (1934 to 1961).

At 7:00 a.m. on September 14, 2024, dozens of people in colorful skirts and dress pants begin gathering around a small brick duplex at the Michigan/Wisconsin state line in the westernmost Upper Peninsula, just down the road from a series of budget strip clubs and adult video stores. This may seem like a strange place for a Native American ceremony, but not so: just beneath the bridge flows the Montreal River, and anywhere with Nibi is sacred.

My family’s journey through war-ravaged Gaza started last October, the very day after our Gaza City home was bombed — with us inside — killing my oldest cousin, Mohammed. We knew we had to move. Leaflets fell from the sky, urging us to flee southwest. So began a journey that took us through the Jabaliya refugee camp, Deir Al-Balah, Khan Younis, Al-Nusirat, Al-Qarara, and Rafah. Each stop marked a milestone in a trip punctuated by evacuation orders and displacements. I’ve lost count of the number of times we were told to move, but it’s at least a dozen.

One of the great joys of being an academic is watching people go from beginner to trailblazer in a field of study. As a writer for Weave News, not only do I get to watch emerging rock stars like Ms. Song Lee ‘do their thing’, but I get to share their voices with the world. In this Interweaving conversation, I am pleased to introduce you to Ms. Song Lee, High Road Fellow and Child Care Community Advocate.

The province of North Kivu, in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), is home to a vibrant tapestry of mountain rain forests and savannas, woven together by the rivers that feed Lake Edwards and Lake Kivu. It is also a region that is torn apart by war. The interests of neighboring countries and international economic forces have fueled the violence that has displaced more than 2.8 million people and is devastating the local ecosystems. Amidst the ongoing chaos, however, water and earth guardians continue to work to create a better future for their communities and their more-than-human neighbors. One of these brave humans is Justin Lumoo Paluku, who works with the Initiative pour le Progrès et la Protection de l'Environnement (IPPE), or the Initiative for Environmental Progress and Protection.

Suffocated by the accumulated heat of the day, the night became long. The smell of smoke woke us up. At that moment we thought that some neighbor was burning garbage. We soon realized that the smell was different. It smelled more like burnt wood.

To learn more about the first encampment in Valencia, I reached out to Dr. Jorge Ramos Tolosa, who teaches contemporary history at UV. In addition to his scholarship and teaching, he is a longtime activist with BDS Valencia and the Red Solidaria contra la Ocupación de Palestina (RESCOP), a network of Spanish organizations working in solidarity with Palestine.

My name is Fousani Hamidou, and I am a senior at St Lawrence University (Canton, NY, USA), majoring in Global Studies with a minor in African Studies. Last semester, I studied abroad in Kenya and had the opportunity to travel to Arusha, Tanzania, as a part of my program. We lived for a week alongside the Hadzabe tribe, one of the last surviving hunter-gathering tribes in the country. Throughout the week, we hunted hyraxes and made arrows with the Hadzabe men, and we gathered tubas (a tree root) and made beads with the Hadza women. On the last night, we all gathered with members of the tribe on a large rock by the camp to discuss their lifestyle, the Tanzanian government, education, and forced assimilation.

'We have two options now: dying or dying.'

This was a text message that Salahaldin (Salah) Eleyan received from his brother from Northern Gaza, Palestine.

On March 3, more than 100 people showed up in Madrid, Spain, to hear a first-hand report from Manal Tamimi, a Palestinian activist whose family has been at the center of resistance efforts in the West Bank village of Nabi Saleh. In a talk that was both moving and sobering, Tamimi spoke passionately about the ongoing struggle of West Bank Palestinians at a time when the Israeli state’s machinery of violence appears to be more emboldened than ever thanks to the active and passive support of governments the world over.

Lake Superior — or Gichigami, as the Anishinaabe call her — is a mighty spirit. She has cast a forcefield around the Upper Midwest, protecting it from development by bestowing us with atrocious farming soil, and indeed I have dented my shovel trying to dig a four-inch hole. But this is where the plot thickens. Because Lake Superior’s protection is not absolute, and rich geology doesn’t just attract agate hunters…

It also brings mines.

On December 29, 2023, South Africa brought a case against Israel before the International Court of Justice (ICJ) in The Hague, arguing that Israel was committing genocide against the Palestinian population in Gaza. On January 11-12, 2024, the ICJ held public hearings on South Africa’s request for provisional measures of protection for the people of Gaza and eventually ruled that Israel was responsible for taking all necessary measures to prevent “acts of genocide” in Gaza. The ongoing ICJ case has been the subject of significant debate. To explore the issue further, I reached out to Dr. Somdeep Sen, a frequent Weave News contributor and a professor at Roskilde University.

One of the most incredible aspects of street art is that it can take many forms and mean many things — from a small sticker pasted onto a trash can to graffiti found in a subway car to paste-ups adorning a fence. Being from Mexico, I have always felt strongly connected to murals and their powerful messages. Murals are big. Murals are vibrant. Murals are captivating. In this third installment, I am excited to share my journey of leaving New York City to start the second half of my off-campus year studying in Italy, and to share my experience with Jorit, an internationally known Italian urban artist.

On Feb. 9, 2024, renowned anthropologist Dr. Ghassan Hage released a public statement on the decision of the Max Planck Institute to sever its relationship with him because of his public statements regarding Israeli violence against Palestinians. We are republishing this statement here with Dr. Hage’s permission.

As I wheeled my luggage into the John F. Kennedy airport terminal in New York City, the air was filled with a symphony of sounds that blended the murmurs of conversations in different languages, the echoing announcements over the intercom, and the occasional distant rumble of airplane engines. My heart raced, erratic beats echoing in my chest as I waited for my plane to board. It was my first time traveling abroad as a first-generation Latina, and I was filled with excitement as I embarked on my journey to Spain. Prior to my departure, I knew that I wanted to learn more about decolonization, and I believed that Spain was the perfect place for this pursuit.

I woke up this morning in Malaga with the knowledge that today was an important day in Spain: a day of nationwide demonstrations calling for an end to Israel’s genocidal assault on Gaza. At a time when European leaders continue to fail to meet their basic moral obligations vis-a-vis the Palestinian people, more than 70 Spanish cities from Alacant and Albacete to Zamora and Zaragoza were scheduled to host actions under the common banner of stopping the genocide, ending arms sales to Israel, and cutting off diplomatic relations with the apartheid state.