We, especially those of us in feminist movements, seem to relive the wracking debates of our movement’s past lives, and as people of colour in particular we seem condemned at times to a Groundhog Day of vexatious, soul-wrenching debates about our role in not just activism, but life itself. Are we selling out if we [insert anything slightly fun or remunerative here]? What does it mean to be authentically [insert ethnicity/race here]? The radical wing of activism presents one with equal dilemmas about living one’s values. “Be the change you want to see in the world,” and a dozen other tiresome clichés that have been reincarnated as inspirational Facebook memes. But all these swarms of corkscrewing questions pale before the ...