Abstract
In this autoethnography, I explore my childhood neighborhood through the intersection of history, memory, performance, and meaning. Understanding my neighborhood as part of the Zionist endeavor, and with the help of Le Corbusier’s “Modulor,” I engage in a series of dialogues with critical theory that seems to offer politicized ways of understanding it. However, I also engage in critical conversations with myself, or with family members who insist on a different view. This journey results in questioning some of critical theory’s perspectives on oppression and resistance. Multiplicity is then explored as a space of possibilities and potential.
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