Complex complicity: A practice note from a woman of colour on the frontline
I work as a Probation Officer; I have been doing this job for almost 15 years. I work primarily with men and have worked in major cities in England. I am a minority in England, both ethnically and religiously. I am a woman, and my family are migrants from Africa, and their grandparents were indentur...
| Autor principal: | |
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| Tipo de documento: | Electrónico Artículo |
| Lenguaje: | Inglés |
| Publicado: |
2022
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| En: |
Probation journal
Año: 2022, Volumen: 69, Número: 2, Páginas: 245-249 |
| Acceso en línea: |
Volltext (lizenzpflichtig) |
| Journals Online & Print: | |
| Verificar disponibilidad: | HBZ Gateway |
| Palabras clave: |
| Sumario: | I work as a Probation Officer; I have been doing this job for almost 15 years. I work primarily with men and have worked in major cities in England. I am a minority in England, both ethnically and religiously. I am a woman, and my family are migrants from Africa, and their grandparents were indentured labour from India. In all the ways I am different, I also often share histories of migration, of minority experience and of being an outsider with many of those I work with. This is the conversation I have with myself most mornings: Can you consider yourself an activist? I ask myself. Can you call yourself an activist, an anti-racist whilst working within this criminal justice system? Can you continue in this work and not betray yourself, your Muslim-ness, your brown-ness, your working class-ness, your immigrant-ness? |
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| ISSN: | 1741-3079 |
| DOI: | 10.1177/02645505221093202 |
