In my area

goodbyetomysociallife:

marchcouldbedarker:

ragemovement:

Not just for those in Detroit, but anywhere where the right to water is being restricted or denied!

hey everyone, this post has only gotten a thousand or so notes and only a single follower of mine has reblogged this from me specifically.
Detroit has been shutting water off for entire neighborhoods regardless of whether people paid bills or not. Even if they didn’t, should that really mean that they should die of thirst? Should there really be a cost to stay alive?
Please, spread this. Link it on other sites so someone down the line who needs this anywhere can take back water, something that should be the right of every human being.

Water should not be controlled by corporations. Water should not cost money. No one should be denied access to water, ever.
Fight for your lives. Fight to help others. 
This is moral and ethical. 
Jul 14

goodbyetomysociallife:

marchcouldbedarker:

ragemovement:

Not just for those in Detroit, but anywhere where the right to water is being restricted or denied!

hey everyone, this post has only gotten a thousand or so notes and only a single follower of mine has reblogged this from me specifically.

Detroit has been shutting water off for entire neighborhoods regardless of whether people paid bills or not. Even if they didn’t, should that really mean that they should die of thirst? Should there really be a cost to stay alive?

Please, spread this. Link it on other sites so someone down the line who needs this anywhere can take back water, something that should be the right of every human being.

Water should not be controlled by corporations. Water should not cost money. No one should be denied access to water, ever.

Fight for your lives. Fight to help others. 

This is moral and ethical. 

(via evilfeminist)

Jul 6

(Source: strolltothecafe, via fuckyeahelastica)

Jul 6

bheidh:

a reality check that’s a blow to the solar plexis

SEE ALSO: why i’m crumbling under the weight of prolonged loneliness for fear of letting anyone in again & repeating this

[via]

(via thespinsterette)

Jun 30

witch-hag:

plansfornigel:

"[Incidentally, the outraged Riley Kilo is the dude that dresses up and makes porn as a "little girl" in a diaper and shits marshmallows out of his asshole:

http://gendertrender.wordpress.com/2011/07/29/jezebel-headline-female-adult-baby-wears-diapers-247/

Can’t make this shit up.]” - Gallus Mag at GenderTrender

Nasty.

You simply cannot make this shit up. 

(via yoursocialconstructsareshowing)

Jun 30

primadollly:

kreyolcoco:

fabulazerstokill:

dynastylnoire:

THIS WAS THE FUNNIEST THING OF ALL THE SHOW 

Do they ever take the mom to task for not teaching her Spanish though ? I mean her mom is there.

There was literally nothing funny about this though?

^^^^ that scene hits me right in the *assimilated* child of an immigrant feels. Cause so many parents don’t teach their kids their native tongues (for various reasons) and it hurts us. Especially when we try to connect with those parts of ourselves but other people delegitimize our identity because of a language barrier we are not responsible for.

And before a grade A piece of Shit decides to chime in with “teach yourself” :

1. learning a new language is incredibly hard especially without assistance.

2. Many of us don’t have easy access to quality language learning resources for our mother tongues. 

3. In regards to colonized people, of the easily accessible resources,  most of them are the European versions of the language and not the language of the people. Which means you end up sounding like a stranger.

So yeah, nothing is funny about this at all.

Additional Points:

4. White people are rewarded for learning/speaking more than one language. People of color are ridiculed for that same thing, especially if it impacts any part of their English. A lot of migrant parents think they are protecting us when they don’t teach us our native languages; They think if we only learn English, if we don’t pick up their accent, we might have an easier time in this racist society. Unfortunately, they’re usually right.

5. Learning a new language, especially as an adult, is extremely difficult. Add to that learning disabilities, neuroatypicalities, poverty, lack of resources, lack of time, and it’s nearly impossible.

I agree with all of this, of course. I believe accents are beautiful and we need to teach people to appreciate them. I do think, however, that growing up in the U.S. is very different from growing up in Latin America, so culturally there might be many differences among latinos here and there. 

Learning a new language is indeed hard, mostly if you don’t have access to different resources. But it is also true that Spanish as a language is not valued in the U.S. Our language also suffers the stereotyping and belittlement that we suffer. 

(Source: twerkdirty, via thisisnotlatino)

delicately-interconnected:

parkingstrange:

madamethursday:

[Image: A photo of a two-year-old boy holding a red stick, looking into the camera.]
descentintotyranny:

A SWAT team blew a hole in my 2-year-old son — Alecia Phonesavanh
June 24 2014
After our house burned down in Wisconsin a few months ago, my husband and I packed our four young kids and all our belongings into a gold minivan and drove to my sister-in-law’s place, just outside of Atlanta. On the back windshield, we pasted six stick figures: a dad, a mom, three young girls, and one baby boy.
That minivan was sitting in the front driveway of my sister-in-law’s place the night a SWAT team broke in, looking for a small amount of drugs they thought my husband’s nephew had. Some of my kids’ toys were in the front yard, but the officers claimed they had no way of knowing children might be present. Our whole family was sleeping in the same room, one bed for us, one for the girls, and a crib.
After the SWAT team broke down the door, they threw a flashbang grenade inside. It landed in my son’s crib.
Flashbang grenades were created for soldiers to use during battle. When they explode, the noise is so loud and the flash is so bright that anyone close by is temporarily blinded and deafened. It’s been three weeks since the flashbang exploded next to my sleeping baby, and he’s still covered in burns.
There’s still a hole in his chest that exposes his ribs. At least that’s what I’ve been told; I’m afraid to look.
My husband’s nephew, the one they were looking for, wasn’t there. He doesn’t even live in that house. After breaking down the door, throwing my husband to the ground, and screaming at my children, the officers – armed with M16s – filed through the house like they were playing war. They searched for drugs and never found any.
I heard my baby wailing and asked one of the officers to let me hold him. He screamed at me to sit down and shut up and blocked my view, so I couldn’t see my son. I could see a singed crib. And I could see a pool of blood. The officers yelled at me to calm down and told me my son was fine, that he’d just lost a tooth. It was only hours later when they finally let us drive to the hospital that we found out Bou Bou was in the intensive burn unit and that he’d been placed into a medically induced coma.
For the last three weeks, my husband and I have been sleeping at the hospital. We tell our son that we love him and we’ll never leave him behind. His car seat is still in the minivan, right where it’s always been, and we whisper to him that soon we’ll be taking him home with us.

Every morning, I have to face the reality that my son is fighting for his life. It’s not clear whether he’ll live or die. All of this to find a small amount of drugs?
The only silver lining I can possibly see is that my baby Bou Bou’s story might make us angry enough that we stop accepting brutal SWAT raids as a normal way to fight the “war on drugs.” I know that this has happened to other families, here in Georgia and across the country. I know that SWAT teams are breaking into homes in the middle of the night, more often than not just to serve search warrants in drug cases. I know that too many local cops have stockpiled weapons that were made for soldiers to take to war. And as is usually the case with aggressive policing, I know that people of color and poor people are more likely to be targeted.  I know these things because of the American Civil Liberties Union’s new report, and because I’m working with them to push for restraints on the use of SWAT.
A few nights ago, my 8-year-old woke up in the middle of the night screaming, “No, don’t kill him! You’re hurting my brother! Don’t kill him.” How can I ever make that go away? I used to tell my kids that if they were ever in trouble, they should go to the police for help. Now my kids don’t want to go to sleep at night because they’re afraid the cops will kill them or their family. It’s time to remind the cops that they should be serving and protecting our neighborhoods, not waging war on the people in them.
I pray every minute that I’ll get to hear my son’s laugh again, that I’ll get to watch him eat French fries or hear him sing his favorite song from “Frozen.” I’d give anything to watch him chase after his sisters again. I want justice for my baby, and that means making sure no other family ever has to feel this horrible pain.

 Alecia Phonesavanh is the mother of Bounkham Phonesavanh, nicknamed “Baby Bou Bou.” She and her family live in Atlanta. For more information about Bou Bou, go to www.justiceforbabyboubou.com. 


I’ve never felt so much rage in my entire life

Capitalism needs to end and the state needs to be overthrown and every single cop needs to be put down like the fucking dogs they are.
Jun 30

delicately-interconnected:

parkingstrange:

madamethursday:

[Image: A photo of a two-year-old boy holding a red stick, looking into the camera.]

descentintotyranny:

A SWAT team blew a hole in my 2-year-old son — Alecia Phonesavanh

June 24 2014

After our house burned down in Wisconsin a few months ago, my husband and I packed our four young kids and all our belongings into a gold minivan and drove to my sister-in-law’s place, just outside of Atlanta. On the back windshield, we pasted six stick figures: a dad, a mom, three young girls, and one baby boy.

That minivan was sitting in the front driveway of my sister-in-law’s place the night a SWAT team broke in, looking for a small amount of drugs they thought my husband’s nephew had. Some of my kids’ toys were in the front yard, but the officers claimed they had no way of knowing children might be present. Our whole family was sleeping in the same room, one bed for us, one for the girls, and a crib.

After the SWAT team broke down the door, they threw a flashbang grenade inside. It landed in my son’s crib.

Flashbang grenades were created for soldiers to use during battle. When they explode, the noise is so loud and the flash is so bright that anyone close by is temporarily blinded and deafened. It’s been three weeks since the flashbang exploded next to my sleeping baby, and he’s still covered in burns.

There’s still a hole in his chest that exposes his ribs. At least that’s what I’ve been told; I’m afraid to look.

My husband’s nephew, the one they were looking for, wasn’t there. He doesn’t even live in that house. After breaking down the door, throwing my husband to the ground, and screaming at my children, the officers – armed with M16s – filed through the house like they were playing war. They searched for drugs and never found any.

I heard my baby wailing and asked one of the officers to let me hold him. He screamed at me to sit down and shut up and blocked my view, so I couldn’t see my son. I could see a singed crib. And I could see a pool of blood. The officers yelled at me to calm down and told me my son was fine, that he’d just lost a tooth. It was only hours later when they finally let us drive to the hospital that we found out Bou Bou was in the intensive burn unit and that he’d been placed into a medically induced coma.

For the last three weeks, my husband and I have been sleeping at the hospital. We tell our son that we love him and we’ll never leave him behind. His car seat is still in the minivan, right where it’s always been, and we whisper to him that soon we’ll be taking him home with us.

Every morning, I have to face the reality that my son is fighting for his life. It’s not clear whether he’ll live or die. All of this to find a small amount of drugs?

The only silver lining I can possibly see is that my baby Bou Bou’s story might make us angry enough that we stop accepting brutal SWAT raids as a normal way to fight the “war on drugs.” I know that this has happened to other families, here in Georgia and across the country. I know that SWAT teams are breaking into homes in the middle of the night, more often than not just to serve search warrants in drug cases. I know that too many local cops have stockpiled weapons that were made for soldiers to take to war. And as is usually the case with aggressive policing, I know that people of color and poor people are more likely to be targeted.  I know these things because of the American Civil Liberties Union’s new report, and because I’m working with them to push for restraints on the use of SWAT.

A few nights ago, my 8-year-old woke up in the middle of the night screaming, “No, don’t kill him! You’re hurting my brother! Don’t kill him.” How can I ever make that go away? I used to tell my kids that if they were ever in trouble, they should go to the police for help. Now my kids don’t want to go to sleep at night because they’re afraid the cops will kill them or their family. It’s time to remind the cops that they should be serving and protecting our neighborhoods, not waging war on the people in them.

I pray every minute that I’ll get to hear my son’s laugh again, that I’ll get to watch him eat French fries or hear him sing his favorite song from “Frozen.” I’d give anything to watch him chase after his sisters again. I want justice for my baby, and that means making sure no other family ever has to feel this horrible pain.

Alecia Phonesavanh is the mother of Bounkham Phonesavanh, nicknamed “Baby Bou Bou.” She and her family live in Atlanta. For more information about Bou Bou, go to www.justiceforbabyboubou.com.

I’ve never felt so much rage in my entire life

Capitalism needs to end and the state needs to be overthrown and every single cop needs to be put down like the fucking dogs they are.

(via octobur-frost)

"Postmodern and queer theorists share with transgender theorists the idea that ‘gender’ is a moveable feast that can be moved into and out of, swapped and so forth. Gender, used in this sense, disappears the fixedness of sex, the biological basis that underlies the relegation of females to their sex caste. Female infants are identified by biology at birth and placed into a female sex caste, which apportions them lifelong inferior status. The preference for biologically male children and the femicide of female infants, for instance, which has created a great inequality in the sex ratio in India and other countries, is based on sex and not ‘gender’. Female fetuses are aborted and female infants are killed because of sex, not ‘gender’ discrimination (Pande, 2006). Fetuses do not have ‘gender’ or ‘gender identity’, because the forces of a woman-hating culture have not had a chance to affect the way they understand themselves."

- Sheila Jeffreys, Gender Hurts (via thisisafemblog)

(via totalhipsterdickbag)

Jun 30

"When I was a student at Cambridge I remember an anthropology professor holding up a picture of a bone with 28 incisions carved in it. “This is often considered to be man’s first attempt at a calendar” she explained. She paused as we dutifully wrote this down. ‘My question to you is this – what man needs to mark 28 days? I would suggest to you that this is woman’s first attempt at a calendar.’ It was a moment that changed my life. In that second I stopped to question almost everything I had been taught about the past. How often had I overlooked women’s contributions?"

- Sandi Toksvig. (via blackfeminism, learninglog) (via theblacklittlemermaid) (via oxypheromalkahyde) (via chloridecleansing) (via emma-soup) (via theheatherlands) (via thesailortitan)

Jun 25