Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win
Month
So my school is putting on a production of Macbeth and not enough guys tried out so instead of having a girl play male Macbeth, our direction said, “Fuck it, we’re doing Lesbian Macbeth”
This is the best possible solution.
I most heartily approve of this because it is awesome.
I still think sometimes about how Doctor Who’s vision of the future was “humanity finds its way through the universe, having sex with every species amenable to the idea”
PROTECT and DEFEND trans women
if you put trans women in danger because you can’t help running your fucking mouth, you are the ENEMY and will be ERADICATED
if you are a cis person who scrolled past this without reblogging because you don’t feel like it’s a necessary message for your other cis friends to see, i want you to know you’ve made it that much harder to trust you
i need ferguson to go down in history books. i need school children in the year 2074 to learn about michael brown being shot on august 9th, 2014 by officer darren wilson. i need this to spark a movement. this can not lose the focus of society a mere month after it happened.
Early in my freshman year, my dad asked me if there were lots of Latinos at school. I wanted to say, “Pa, I’m one of the only Latinos in most of my classes. The other brown faces I see mostly are the landscapers’. I think of you when I see them sweating in the morning sun. I remember you were a landscaper when you first came to Illinois in the 1950s. And look, Pa! Now I’m in college!”
But I didn’t.
I just said, “No, Pa. There’s a few Latinos, mostly Puerto Rican, few Mexicans. But all the landscapers are Mexican.”
My dad responded, “¡Salúdelos, m’ijo!”
So when I walked by the Mexican men landscaping each morning, I said, “Buenos días.”
Recently, I realized what my dad really meant. I remembered learning the Mexican, or Latin American, tradition of greeting people when one enters a room. In my Mexican family, my parents taught me to be “bien educado” by greeting people who were in a room already when I entered. The tradition puts the responsibility of the person who arrives to greet those already there. If I didn’t follow the rule as a kid, my parents admonished me with a back handed slap on my back and the not-so-subtle hint: “¡Saluda!”
I caught myself tapping my 8-year-old son’s back the other day when he didn’t greet one of our friends: “Adrian! ¡Saluda!”
However, many of my white colleagues over the years followed a different tradition of ignorance. “Maleducados,” ol’ school Mexican grandmothers would call them.
But this Mexican tradition is not about the greeting—it’s about the acknowledgment. Greeting people when you enter a room is about acknowledging other people’s presence and showing them that you don’t consider yourself superior to them.
When I thought back to the conversation between my dad and me in 1990, I realized that my dad was not ordering me to greet the Mexican landscapers with a “Good morning.”
Instead, my father wanted me to acknowledge them, to always acknowledge people who work with their hands like he had done as a farm worker, a landscaper, a mechanic. My father with a 3rd grade education wanted me to work with my mind but never wanted me to think myself superior because I earned a college degree and others didn’t.
”—Ray Salazar, Mexican etiquette some white people need to learn on dad’s 77th birthday.
Saluden Muchachxs, saluden.
(via frijoliz) Thank you frijoliz for blogging my essay and evelynthedesigner for letting me know. And unending gracias for 17k notes! Muchos saludos a todos. (via whiterhinoray)
Some girls are confident
some girls are shy
some girls like boys
some girls like girls
sometimes, they like both
some girls don’t dress in a feminine way
and some do
and some girls weren’t born girls, and that’s fine
some girls cover up
and some girls don’t
some girls are bigger
some girls are smaller
some girls are smart
and some girls aren’t
some girls are nice
and some girls are mean
but no matter what,all girls are people
and we should be treated like it.
imagine a video game where you create a hero whose destiny is to save everyone, but throughout the game you start making harder and more questionable decisions, and the game gets darker and darker. and in the end you’re just standing there, clutching the controller and finally realizing you were playing the villain all along
fuck
FUCK
FUCK
one of my favorite episodes from atla was where this whole village hated avatars because they thought that kyoshi murdered this guy a long time ago and the whole gang spends the entire episode finding all this evidence that she never did it but the village doesnt believe them and it looks like aangs going to be found guilty but finally near the end her spirit appears to everyone and shes like yeah i killed that guy he was a dick
*cracks knuckles* so i heard you think my favorite character is useless
could i pay someone to take over my body who actually knows how to look after it so they can like. make me healthy again and then let me take over once i’m fit n healthy
You mean a personal trainer and a nutritionist
no i mean some sort of supernatural being who can do literally all of the work for me
So like the ghost of a personal trainer and nutritionist
What? My boobs are great.
See? Perfectly fine.
I mean, yeah, they jiggle and wobble and don’t sit high up on my chest. But that’s normal.
Like what do you think I should do about it? I mean
Nah.
My boobs just do normal boob things. They’re A-okay normal healthy boobs.
Moral: Boobs are really diverse. Do your boobs sag? Normal. Do they have hair? Normal. Do they have stretch marks? Normal. Do you get pimples on them? Normal. Are they different sizes? Normal. Big nipples? Normal. Puffy dark areola? Normal. Not facing dead ahead? Normal. Small? Normal. Big? Normal. Normal Normal Normal.
And they’re your boobs. If you can change any of those things and you want to, go ahead!
But don’t let people tell you that your breasts are wrong just because they’re affected by gravity.
You’re fine. They’re fine.
If you tell a someone w boobs that they need to buy a shirt/dress that covers up their bra chances are you need to buy some pants to cover up your diaper because you are a massive whiny piss baby
I just realized that the lack of acceptance for asexuals is literally the dumbest thing.
Like, you can’t handle the thought of two dudes kissing? Okay you’re dumb and terrible whatever.
But you can’t handle the idea… Of someone… Not kissing anyone? What are you worried about? They’re gonna eat too much mac n cheese?? Draw too many dinosaurs??? Tell me
“Why Doing Awesome Work Means Making Yourself Vulnerable”
So, I’ve been waiting for someone to explain this extremely simple concept to me my entire life.
(via kelsium)
Hooooly shit I needed to read this article.
(via rouxfully)
“When I interview leaders, artists, coaches, or athletes who are very successful, they never talk about perfectionism as being a vehicle for success. What they talk about is that perfectionism is a huge trigger, one they have to be aware of all the time, because it gets in the way of getting work done.”
Yyyyyyyyep.
(via rumplestiltsqueer)
