Sign language is something that few people even experience in their daily lives, let alone learn. Even as a linguistics student, I’ve found that my education has focused exclusively on speech, with casual references made here and there on the applicability of theory used for spoken languages to sign language; even then, it’s mostly an afterthought.3 April 2019
I started dipping my toes in the dating pool at 14 years old. It was an exciting time. I remember when I had my first boyfriend, Clark, a Melburnian boy just a few years older than me. Clark had blonde hair, blue eyes and baby scruff on his face. He reminded me a lot of Michael Clifford from 5 Seconds of Summer, except Clark didn’t play the guitar and spent most of his days playing Assassin’s Creed. Clark was sweet and 14-year-old me thought he was a 10/10 quality boyfriend because he’d often tell me how much he loved me and shower me with a million compliments: “you’re so beautiful”, “you’re so pretty” and “you’re so exotic”. Yikes. Exotic?
I hear the term ‘accessibility’ being talked about a lot. I thought accessibility only had to do with wheelchair access and I don’t want to sound stupid asking people what makes something accessible. Can you tell me about it?
You’ve been dreaming of Europe for a while now. The culture, the art, the history. The cobbled pavements squeezed between grand buildings from another era. The locals with their cute accents and ability to pull off funky hats. The fresh bakeries serving up almond croissants to go with a shot of espresso, with not a flat white to be found.
It is the year 1600 and India is dressed in the colours of the Mughal Empire. One of the world’s richest countries, it has a 23% share of the world economy. India opens her arms to the East India Company and over 200 years, royal colours of maroon and gold are forcibly replaced by white, blue and red. By the time the Company leaves in 1947, India has been turned into a poster child for third world poverty.