Weaving The Streets

On Sunday, May 17, residents of all ages took to the streets of the Spanish capital, Madrid, to march in solidarity with the Palestinian people in their struggle against colonial domination and violence.

The death of a far-right French activist had immediate repercussions at a university where students use public space to support Palestinian liberation, gender equality, and other struggles.

Inna Saribekyan reports from the Malaga neighborhood where the patron saint of fishermen is ever-present.

For our Weaving the Streets series, Catherine Tedford listens to the people’s voice in the Big Apple.

Irem Tuana Ciftci reflects on her Ramadan experience in Morocco.

John Collins listens as the people’s voice gets louder

A reminder of the power of solidarity

Copenhill stands tall—literally and figuratively—as a groundbreaking example of how public spaces can serve multiple purposes for different people.

It is a bright Saturday, the crisp air of late February stubbornly holding onto winter’s cold. Before me, Union Square Greenmarket unfolds in quiet rhythms. Usually a place of hurried crossings, the square now offers a reason to pause. Vendors line the pathways between sparse naked trees, nature reaching skyward as if trying to catch its breath amid the city’s steady hum. New Yorkers seem to find newfound fascination in sunflowers or a vintage teapot; it is a curious way of placing extraordinary importance on the seemingly unimportant.  Amidst the hustle, something larger looms. A colossal clock, eighty feet wide, stands proud atop One Union Square South, overlooking the tranquil Union Square Park as its stark digital display counts down in red, pixelated numbers.  

Exploring a city as a tourist can be a vastly different experience from doing so as a local. Though I was born and raised in Neiva, Colombia, it was not until my foreign friend visited that I realized how the resistance against state violence and corruption is vividly illustrated in my hometown's public spaces, leaving no room to turn a blind eye. Her amazement at the art, phrases, and graffiti covering a small city like Neiva sparked a conversation about the country’s political landscape at the time.

Even a simple thing like taking a stroll around a Danish city can tell you about this country's deep commitment to combating climate change and supporting the welfare of its people. Copenhagen's approach to sustainability quickly stood out to me; even the smallest details on the streets—like the city’s trash bins—have a deeper meaning and purpose than what meets the eye.

One of the first places I visited during my semester in Copenhagen was not

only a beautiful park, but also a graveyard. Located in the heart of Nørrebro, this

multipurpose space—Assistens Kirkegård—is both a cemetery and a park. While the cemetery still serves its original purpose as a burial ground, it has evolved into a recreational space. For some locals, this is the area where they jog five kilometers every morning; for others, it is a place to meditate. For the busy bikers, this is the scenic street that they whizz down on their way to work in the city; and for the guides facilitating cemetery tours, this space is a source of income.