American education:
we need another standardized test and more homework!
Finland:
actually, we became one of the worlds' best education systems by getting rid of homework and standardized tests - also, we pay our teachers better than you.
China:
same
Belgium:
same
American education:
better make it two more standardized tests.
I’m really tired of only seeing posts for trauma survivors who have managed to stay kind. not all of us can. not all of us can do that and still cope.
shoutout to my fellow trauma survivors who expect the worst, who are unfriendly, who have learned not to be vulnerable because people have used vulnerability to hurt you, who are quick to bare teeth, who are jaded and exhausted, who learned to compartmentalize and shut to things away and not feel, who are called bitter and disappoint people who expect us to be model survivors.
we are no less valuable or human than anyone else.
I would honestly prefer reading about the stupid paranormal romance where the weird non-human boyfriend can’t work out the DVD player over Brooding Manipulative and Controlling asshole trope
[screaming at the DVD player] IM 800 YEARS OLD CUT ME SOME SLACK
“How do I get to… what was it called?” “Netflix?” “Yes that.”
“What is that?”
“Uh, cell phone?”
“Why did you yell at it? What did it do to you?”
*long suffering sigh*
“You mean if you press those buttons there someone will bring you food?”
Don’t tell your daughter that when a boy is mean or rude to her it’s because he has a crush on her. Don’t teach her that abuse is a sign of love.
My mom always taught me yell or fight back. Boys would be mean and I would yell back. I would get my ass pinched and I would smack them as hard as I could.
Who alway got in trouble? Me.
They would call my mother and she always came in and lectures my teachers and threatened to sue for making her miss work and treating me poorly.
She always taught my brothers to respect women. The only fights my brothers ever got in was defending women from someone else.
The school tried to call my father once instead of my mother on us. He came in in his full preacher outfit (being a preacher and all) and gave them an entire sermon on what would Jesus day of he was called in. They decided dealing with my mom was better.
I think my favorite story of this is when some kid snapped my bra and I turned around, didn’t even think about it, and punched that little motherfucker right in the nose.
So naturally, I end up in the principal’s office, refusing to apologize.
“He shouldn’t have put his hands on me and I wouldn’t have hit him!” That’s the only thing I was saying.
These people had the unfortunate luck of catching my dad at home, instead of my mom. So he comes fucking sauntering in there, like he’s Clint fucking Eastwood in some western movie and looks at me.
“Melissa, did you punch him?”
“Yes.” I said.
“Why?”
“Because he snapped my bra strap.”
And he turns his squinty eyed glare to the principal and says, “You’re telling me my daughter is in trouble because that squirrely looking kid put his hands on her and she chose to defend herself? That’s what you are saying to me.”
“Well, sir-” The man kind of stuttered because my dad is kind of intimidating in the quiet sort of way that kind of whispers in the back of your mind that this person could be dangerous. “Melissa did make it physical.”
“No. That kid put his hands on my daughter. Are you saying my daughter cannot defend herself when some boy decides to put hands on her? Is that what you are teaching my girl?”
I didn’t get suspended that day.
^^YOU. YES. I LOVE YOU. LET’S TELL THESE STORIES.
Let me tell you a little story about the time I learned what boys could do. Let me tell you about when I was in fourth grade and a boy cornered my skinny underdeveloped ass at recess, day after day, and grabbed my thigh to cop a feel while he threatened to break it, under the eye of the teacher. Let me tell you about how I was too damaged-confused-inept to know that sex and violence could go hand in hand, but went home and cried anyway because I knew a threat when I felt it. Let me tell you about how my mother hugged me tight and promised that I was worth something, and then sat me down and said ‘Baby bear, you do what you have to do,’ said ‘Baby bear, if he puts his hands on you and you feel scared, you make him take his hands off.’ Let me tell you about how one day I reached my limit and punched him in the face, shaking so hard my teeth chattered. Let me tell you about how the teacher, the woman who had seen what he did every day, shouted at me for attacking him and marched me down to the principal’s office while the boy went to the nurse. Let me tell you about how I got detention and a sentence to the prison of the school counselor for ‘anger management issues’ while the boy wandered around without a single bruise. Let me tell you about how I got a handwritten death threat in my backpack, in the boy’s handwriting, and how the principal and the teachers did nothing while my parents fought for me and I raged and checked window locks and signed up for martial arts. Let me tell you about how my child-self, abused physically and emotionally by her extended family, blamed herself for everything, everything, everything, and how the counselor taught me that it was my fault, taught me to torture myself with guilt over using violence.
Let me tell you a little story about the time when I realized that violence is sometimes the only answer you have. Let me tell you about when I was eleven in a tiny town in Montana, and I’d been fighting with an older boy for months. Let me tell you about how he made me feel like a rabbit facing a fox, or about how his two sisters, both over six years his senior, were terrified of him, or about how his parents couldn’t control him. Let me tell you about how I admitted, shamefaced, to my parents that I just couldn’t stand to be in a room with him, and my mother sat me down again, and this time she said things like “Stay with witnesses” and “Don’t be afraid to run” and “Go for the throat, for the nose, for the balls” and “Get him on the ground” and “Be brutal.” Let me tell you about how he caught me alone in a room and pinned me to a wall and kissed me hard, and how I slipped out under his arm and ran like the hounds of hell were nipping at my heels, straight into a room full of adults. Let me tell you about how he caught me anyway, yanked me around and punched me in the stomach. Let me tell you about how I answered his punch with my own, one-two-three, nose-groin-chokehold, and forced him to the ground as he gasped for air. Let me tell you about how I shook with adrenaline this time and how his sisters thanked me and cried with relief and how I held my chin high.
Let me tell you about the eighteen-year-old who decided he was dating me when I was fourteen, hands all over me at a summer festival, and when I punched him he laughed at me for playing ‘hard to get.’ Let me tell you about the two boys in high school who harassed me for two years, who made me so worried I brought a knife to school, who only stopped when I slammed one of them into a table for touching me, pinning him by the throat as I described what I would do to him if he tried again. Let me tell you about the boy just this year who attacked me in my own dorm room, pinned me to my roommate’s bed and forced his tongue into my mouth, his hand down my shirt and under my bra, and how I jammed my thumb so hard into his trachea he choked, and how he called his assault a ‘romantic gesture’.
Let me tell you about ‘boys will be boys.’ Let me tell you about ‘ignore them and they’ll go away.’ Let me tell you about ‘there’s never a reason for violence.’ Let me tell you about ‘You should never hurt someone, no matter what they did to you.’ Let me tell you about ‘he must have a crush on you.’ Let me tell you about ‘why didn’t you tell a teacher.’
FINALLY, MY GREY LIVEBLOGGING HELL IS OVER!!For previous updates, see our GREY tag and my twitter @Hello_Tailor. Here’s what I learned from reading this book:
1. Christian Grey is a massive Creep. Obvs. He orders a background…
I know this seems obvious but if you other trans girls have big feet like I do (I wear a size 12-13) Payless is seriously the best option for shoes on a budget. Almost nowhere carries shoes in my size, I don’t even bother checking anymore. The only place I can get shoes is payless and I seriously only pay $10-15 for flats/wedges/running shoes. Also if you order online (better selection) and you don’t like them you can return it in any store. Changing your entire wardrobe can be so fucking expensive but payless has saved my life so I thought I’d give a sorta tip even though it’s probably obvious.
the fake geek girl stereotype is always annoying, but i find it especially obnoxious when it’s directed towards girls with fandom related tattoos. like, if you think a girl is gonna get a whole star wars or doctor who themed sleeve put on her body permanently solely to impress your crusty ass, please sit the fuck down
someone accused me of this with my Skyrim tattoo
yep, I spent $300 and sat there in pain for 6 hours just to impress an ugly motherfucker
@ ppl who are saying that if your employer fires you for getting married you can sue them now bc SCotUS declared it a fundamental right
you are wrong
people get fired for things that are legally fundamental rights all the time. like… free speech is a fundamental right but your employer can still fire you over it. “fundamental right” is binding on the government, not your employer
until a group is actually covered by a non-discrimination law, homophobic employers can legally do whatever the fuck they want
If you bleed, that is NOT your hymen being ‘popped’, it is a tear due to lack of sexual arousal and natural lubrication.
This is all a MYTH perpetrated by men so they don’t have to make sure you are comfortable and sufficiently aroused enough before you have sex with them. It is an excuse to disregard and hurt you.
I just really want women to know this.
Also a lot of dick people don’t actually know this either so spread the word to the penis-owning people who follow me that no the first time is not supposed to hurt for the vagina people.
Sex is supposed to be pleasurable not painful. If something hurts, stop and figure out the issue 9/10 there’ just not enough lubrication due to lack of arousal and foreplay.
Also, if someone says it hurts, STOP. That aint some cute code for you to keep going. Listen to your partner.
just remember that the reason your born is because your parents are straight.
just remember that Alan Turing, father of modern computer science, was gay & is a big part of the reason you can sit here and make shitty homophobic posts
Not being able to bathe because your dysphoria is too bad.
Not being able to wear a binder because of anxiety issues/sensory issues
Not being able to grow body hair
Your body hair is too noticeable
Presenting as masculine and being 5'0
Presenting as feminine and being 6'3
Others using you as their *trans friend* in order to win an argument
Being out to some but not to others
Swimming. Seriously just fuck that.
Gym class
Transitioning during school
Trying to get people to use nonbinary pronouns
Standardized tests using sex and gender interchangeably
People refusing to do research and expecting you to explain everything
People mean mugging you when you shop in the clothing section that matches your gender
People telling you to choose between your religion and your identity
Coming out as gay before coming out as trans and trying to figure out what to call yourself
Trying not to visibly cringe every time you get misgendered
Being afraid to go home
Being afraid to go to school
Being afraid
Doing dangerous things to attempt to alleviate dysphoria
Not being able to look in the mirror
Getting bashed by other trans people for not having dysphoria (yeah im lookin at you truscum)
Not wanting to transition
How to sex??
Trying to figure out your gender
Society enforcing the gender binary like its some sort of law
THIS LIST IS ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT POSTS ON THIS WEBSITE.
“I think lesbians are smarter in a sense that we know what we want and we go for it, that’s why we’re gay”
“so if you’re at a party and you see the hottest girl there who turns out to be bisexual, whats your reaction?” “that’s really unfortunate”
“if she can make me laugh then I might be able to get past the fact that she had a dick in her mouth last week”
“if you’re with a lesbian then you know that they’re going to be going for you, for a woman, but if you’re with a bisexual…”
and a special mention for personal experience:
“I’ll have to keep a meter away from you tonight, otherwise you might make out with me haha”
“I wanted to tell you that you looked good last night but someone told me not to because you might make out with me”
we constantly get told not to attend pride unless we’re in a same sex relationship, get degrading comments from both the gay community and straight people, are told we aren’t ‘queer enough’ and that because we can pass as straight we don’t deserve a place in LGBTQ+ spaces.
“When someone is crying, of course, the noble thing to do is to comfort them. But if someone is trying to hide their tears, it may also be noble to pretend you do not notice them.”—Lemony Snicket (via lazypacific)
On Friday, the Supreme Court made history by ruling that same-sex couples have a constitutional right to marry,
bringing marriage equality to the entire United States. Now, gay and
lesbian couples can legally wed in every state in the country.
I love this generation so much we went through shit like drug scares and eating disorders and being punks and emos and self harmers and depressed and suicidal and now now now you start to see all these flower crowns and pastels and it’s like we’re all slowly slowly healing and growing up and it’s s obeautiful we’re all taking selfies and coming into our own and we’re all scared but we’re all here for each other and we’re unlearning inter-community hate and we’re all just such nice girls and boys and everything else we’re stars and flowers and fae and sunshine and we care about the world and we are just s obeautiful and powerful and new
Marriage licenses came about in the late 19th century to prevent mixed-race marriages. That should be appalling to anyone, and is in my opinion the strongest argument to privatize marriage.
The American colonies officially required marriages to be registered, but until the mid-19th century, state supreme courts routinely ruled that public cohabitation was sufficient evidence of a valid marriage. By the later part of that century, however, the United States began to nullify common-law marriages and exert more control over who was allowed to marry.
By the 1920s, 38 states prohibited whites from marrying blacks, “mulattos,” Japanese, Chinese, Indians, “Mongolians,” “Malays” or Filipinos.
At the heart of it all, predictably, is the urge to control the lives of others. White people might marry black people! Horror of horrors. Therefore, the state must get involved. No doubt these arguments in favor of more government meddling were made with an overlying patina of “freedom.” Just as the modern anti-immigration crowd today argues that we must destroy freedom in order to save it, the old racist proponents of government marriage likely argued that we must abolish freedom in marriage or the “Negro agitatuhs” and their dusky-skinned allies will destroy freedom. Conservative “logic” at its best.
