…A young child born deaf in an indigenous North American nation grew up nearly always being able to communicate with her community. She would not be physically segregated. The expectation would be that if she survived the vagaries of life to which all were exposed, she could find and enjoy a partner, and she would eventually grow old as a treasured elder who tickled and guided the children around her. If all were in balance, she would find her gift—perhaps weaving, perhaps gathering particularly delicious herbs—and share that with her community, who would then share their gifts with her. A successful healing ceremony, if one was needed, would balance and resolve whatever unease might have existed—but certainly no one would expect the young girl to hear, for such a result was unnecessary.
Nearly every indigenous-language group used signed communication to some degree, and many nations shared singed languages despite their verbal difference. Europeans documented use of signed language among North American indigenous peoples as early as the sixteenth century, and anthropologists and linguists agree that it was employed long before contact with Europeans. Signed language has been identified within at least forty different language groups. Today, we know about indigenous signed languages because of its continued use by some elders, the anthropological work of scholars such as the Smithsonian’s Garrick Mallery in the late nineteenth century, films made by Hugh L. Scott in 1930 at the Indian Sign Language Council, and the tenacious scholarship and activism of contemporary linguists such as Jeffery E. Davis.
The most widely used signed language spread across an extensive region of the Great Plains, from Canada’s North Saskatchewan River to the Rio Grande, from the Rocky Mountain foothills to the Mississippi-Missouri valley. What is now referred to as Plains Indian Sign Language (PISL) enabled communication across communities regarding trade, in critical political negotiations, and even in courtship. Great Plains used this “signed lingua franca” as Davis has characterized it, within their communities as an alternative to spoken language for ritual or storytelling purposes—and of course as a primary language for deaf people and those around them.
”—A Disability History of America by Kim E. Nielsen, page 4 and 5 (via mustangscullaaay)
one of my favourite things about julie andrews is that no matter how succesful or famous or talented you are, as soon as you are in her presence you will turn into a sobbing mess because she is literally the queen of the universe
“Women are a balancing act
Don’t eat too much, don’t eat too little. Don’t be fat, don’t be too skinny. God do you ever stop eating? Woah do you ever eat? The not-so-well-concealed looks of disgust, the not-so-well-concealed looks of concern.
Don’t be loud. Don’t be quiet. Have a voice in society, leave the talking to the big boys. You want something, speak up! No, no, when it’s your turn, sweetie. Ugh, she never shuts up, it’s obnoxious. Have you ever heard her talk? I don’t even know what her voice sounds like.
Make sure your skirt is long enough, but not too long. Don’t make yourself too available, but you don’t want to look like a grandma. Show off what you got, but if you do it’s your fault if anything happens. Was your skirt long enough? How is any boy going to look at you if you wear that?
Have sex, but stay innocent. Give us what we want, but we hate sluts. Virgins are so sweet. What do you mean you want to stay abstinent until marriage? Do you even live in our society? Live without sex is boring. Life with sex is disgusting. God, have you seen her? She’s banged every guy in the school. God, have you seen her? Still a virgin at her age.
Be smart, but not too smart. Boys like a smarter girl. Boys can’t stand it when you know more than them. Play dumb. Ugh, not that dumb, god, weren’t you even listening? They like a smarter girl. No, no, now you just look like a nerd. Girls don’t belong in the classroom, they have to take care of the kids. You want a well-paying job? Take some incentive and study. You can’t slack off because you’re a girl.
Do what you love, but don’t. Be yourself, unless it goes against what we say. Do you love to do your hair and makeup? Great, you’re good to go. Approved. Do you love videogames and guns? You’re faking it. You’re lying. You’re pretending. You’re wrong”—Balancing Act. A little piece I wrote because I’m tired of walking on the beam. (via bl-ossomed)
Oh so Snape can obsess over Lily for 7000 years. But when Harry feels justifiably angry at being left out of the loop by his own friends, being physically tortured by a professor and distrusted by a beloved mentor, along with the constant feeling of loneliness after losing the people he loves, OH NOW THAT’S A NO NO HE’S JUST A WHINY LITTLE SHIT HE NEEDS TO MAN UP.
Know what’s real fucked? Every other age group has the correct aged actors representing them except teenagers. Adults play adults - children play children; but teenagers are played by more adults. Why? Because apparently our body changes from puberty are too ugly for TV. So what happens? We go through those years looking at the perfect “teenagers” and wondering why we don’t look like that.
*SMASHES REBLOG BUTTON SO HARD THAT MY FIST BREAKS*
Ps. Dont fucking drive drunk. It’s not cute and it’s not cool. Buzzed driving is drunk driving. AAA will give your dumbass a ride home for free if you call 1-800-222-4357. Don’t make tonight a night you regret forever.
Remember: it’s not just your life on the line. Have fun and go crazy, but be safe.
Hey so I know some of my followers might be nervous about april fool’s day coming up so I just wanted to proclaim that I will NOT be linking any screamers on my blog that day.
What if you went to a parallel universe and were going to meet your evil self but the version of you there is actually really nice and you’re the asshole
Imagine your bestfriend becoming a celebrity. Like they become a famous actor and they suddenly have a bunch of die hard fans. And you’re sitting there like, “You guys are crying over this fucking dork?! I’ve know her for 10 years and she’s a loser like me.” I imagine that’s what every celebrity’s bestfriend thinks when they are out together.
the other day we were discussing dating and this one dude was like “I don’t see the big deal why can’t people just ask people out without all the fuss” and another guy was like “well you get nervous and you get butterflies in your stomach ya know” and the first dude looked the other dude straight in the eye and said “DIGEST THEM.”
A 16 yr old boy screamed this at me after I pushed his desk (which he was sitting in) so hard that it almost hit the wall.
I warned this boy THREE TIMES to leave me alone. To leave my possessions alone. To stop putting his feet on my books which were under my chair. To stop putting his knees against the back of my chair and pushing, which rocked me back and forth.
I told this boy THREE TIMES to leave me alone and the last time I told him. “I’ve warned you three times now. Stop, or you are gonna regret it.”
To which he taunted. “Ooooh, Dunn, sooo scared.”
So he did it again.
And I lost it. The camels back didn’t have a chance, it snapped like a kit kat.
I turned around, put my hands on his desk and as I screamed every bit of profanity at him at volumes that I’m sure were heard down the hall, and I shoved. Every ounce of anger and frustration went into that push. I pushed that desk (he was still in it.) so hard that it parted the two empty desks behind him and he almost hit the wall.
Everyone around me was stunned, but then the boys sitting beside me JUMPED to their feet and started applauding, cause someone FINALLY DID IT! Someone FINALLY stood up to the bully.
As they start to clap the teacher jumps to her feet and points to the door. “HALLWAY NOW!”
And I’m just standing there, sobbing. “I just wanted him to leave me alone. I just wanted to be left alone.”
As I was walking around the desk (people are still applauding.) the bully snapped out of his daze and jumped to his feet. “DID YOU SEE WHAT THAT PSYCHO BITCH DID!?”
I turned on a dime. “YOU WANNA SEE PSYCHO BITCH! I’LL FUCKING SHOW YOU PSYCHO BITCH!” And I practically launched myself in his general direction. I say practically, because as my two besties scrambled to their feet to tackle me, my teacher grabbed the back of my shirt mid air and threw me into the hallway.
“YOU HALLWAY! AND YOU MISTER! OFFICE! NOW!”
“BUT I’M INNOCENT!” He tried to argue.
The boys that sat in the next aisle over stood and said ‘Ms Fye, she asked him to stop. She asked him to stop three times. We heard it.’”
She wrote him a hall pass. “You go to the office. I’ll be there in 5 minutes. And if you aren’t there sitting in a chair waiting for me, then we’re calling truente.”
The boy walked out the room gesturing like “you know you want it.” But the teacher shoved him down the hall.
After he turned the corner she turned to me and asked. “What the HELL happened?”
And all I could say (as I was crying) was “I just wanted to be left alone. I just wanted him to leave me and my stuff and my desk and my books alone. But he wouldn’t. He kept pushing my chair.He kept putting his feet on my books under the desk. He kept moving my gym bag. I just wanted to be left alone.”
She hugged me, promised me that she was going to move me, that I was never going to have to see him again. She sent me to the restroom and walked back into the classroom to inform the class that I was going to be sitting on the other side of the room. And the boys that sat next to me took it it upon themselves to save me the hassle of going back to the scene of the crime and forming a life chain, passing my things over from one kid to the next to the chair I was going to be sitting in.
I came back to the room and there was no jeering, no rude comments or gestures. Just a couple of boys pointing out that my stuff was in my new seat.
The teacher went to the office and the boy eventually got 3 day in-school suspension, and a serious tongue lashing from my teacher.
Looking back on it now, I realize how lucky I was I didn’t end up getting suspended or expelled. (Technically I never touched the boy… close… but I never touched him.) In fact, I don’t think my parents even got called. To this day they have no idea how close their daughter came to beating the shit out of a football player.
But the thing that stuck me the most was no one in the class ever treated me like I was crazy. In fact, it freak out this one boy so bad he left me pencils on my desk every day.
I like to think of myself as a non-violent person. But then I remember… that time I almost showed a boy what a psycho bitch really was.
