{"type":"rich","version":"1.0","provider_name":"Transistor","provider_url":"https://transistor.fm","author_name":"Art, in all the wrong places","title":"Spaciada sa Bregungia (No More Shame)","html":"","width":"100%","height":180,"duration":386,"description":"Winner, HearSay International Audio Festival 2026 — Golden Prize\n\nEvery time I'm in the car and a flock of sheep passes in front of me, it almost feels like this is my home.\nThat line opens Spaciada sa Bregungia. It is in Sardinian, or rather, in the Sardinian I have. Which is not the same thing.\n\nSee below for English subtitles.\n\nSpaciada sa Bregungia opens with sheep bells, that particular, unhurried sound that in Sardinia means you are exactly where you should be. Against that texture, my voice arrives, in a language I should have grown up speaking. I didn't.\n\nI didn't grow up speaking Sardinian. My parents made a choice, a rational one, from where they stood. They believed that Italian was the language of the future, of education, of opportunity. That raising their children in Sardinian would mark us as peasants, hold us back, make us targets. They were trying to give us a better life. They were themselves products of a system that had taught them, convincingly, that their own language was an obstacle.\n\nNobody taught me the language of my home. The one my illiterate grandmother spoke. The one I couldn't use to talk to her because I didn't understand it. My parents thought they were protecting me. They were also, without knowing it, cutting me off from my own people. That loss doesn't go away.\nSpaciada sa Bregungia moves from that personal wound outward, through history, through politics, through the specific and ongoing ways a land and its people get diminished. It is not a gentle piece.\n\nOn the language — and the criticism.\nBefore I released this piece, I nearly didn't.\nFluent Sardinian speakers told me that releasing a piece with imperfect grammar would damage the language. That it would reflect badly. That I should perhaps not do it at all.\nI was stopped cold. Angry. Sad. Confused.\nBecause the reason my Sardinian isn't perfect is exactly what the piece is about. My mother didn't teach me because she herself was a victim of the same colonial system I was...","thumbnail_url":"https://img.transistorcdn.com/uwZ2Ezf_DvuOgroZgLCiNd9leGEtk63TySdhQD9QBpo/rs:fill:0:0:1/w:400/h:400/q:60/mb:500000/aHR0cHM6Ly9pbWct/dXBsb2FkLXByb2R1/Y3Rpb24udHJhbnNp/c3Rvci5mbS80M2M0/Y2I5ODViNDllYTRl/YTZmN2Q3NDg1Yjhi/NGYzNS5qcGc.webp","thumbnail_width":300,"thumbnail_height":300}