Arts & Humanities

In times of political instability, readers have repeatedly turned to Hannah Arendt, more often for clarity than for comfort. Her work resurfaces whenever democratic norms begin to erode, insisting on the importance of learning how to think when familiar categories collapse. That task feels newly urgent today.

For centuries, church history has been told as if only a few voices mattered — and most of them were male. Countless women*’s lives and contributions remain hidden in archives, reduced to footnotes, or overwritten by later interpretations that say more about their interpreters than about them. What happens when we begin to read this history differently and ask not only who is remembered, but who has been made invisible?