He stands at the open door and asks, ‘May I play the piano?’ I stumble. I am far away and can’t hear clearly to what he says. His name is Dale, but I don’t know it yet. I have only seen him before at night, trying to sleep on the floor, right at this same doorstep. I have had to ask him to move his feet a little bit so that I can get out and once he asked me to turn off the lights so that it’s easier for him to sleep. Sometimes, I have heard him being angry for reasons

“Families belong together”, is the mantra of these days, and I have many mixed feelings. Yesterday I was at the protest to fight for the children separated from their parents; a painful situation that makes me sad, angry and frustrated but also hopeful when I see how many of us fight for social justice in different ways. However, tomorrow I am traveling back to Greece to visit my family after two years, and that is exciting. I am lucky enough to be privileged, but a human rig

The first time I realized my privilege it was even before knowing that such word exists. When I was 20 I traveled in South Africa. By that moment, Apartheid did not exist anymore in practice but the reality of what I saw was different. The worlds between white and black people were clearly still separate. As a fact, white people did not travel in buses. At first they told me that buses did not exist. Then, they advised me not to go. “It is dangerous. Only black people travel