Like how high banjo trills make me go electric.
Like how charity. Like how gold.
Like I’d like to take you in & feed you a little
sweet milk. Like you’d mind, but I’m, like,
so tired of honesty like California fault lines.
Like how this is the big moment. The time of it.
And I’m ready now for the next time.
Like how cuteness rules the dating quadrants.
Like how sexy. Like when I say you look good
in white linen I mean sheets. Like I’d like to
rob your booty bank. Like how I’d take my
winnings to the grave.
Betsy Wheeler "Non-Sonnet for Telling You Everything"
Womanist
1. From womanish. (Opp. of “girlish”, i.e., frivolous, irresponsible, not
serious.) A black feminist or feminist of color. From the black folk expression of mothers to female children, “You acting womanish,” i.e., like a woman. Usually referring to outrageous, audacious, courageous or willful behavior. Wanting to know more and in great depth than is considered “good” for one. Interested in grown-up doings. Acting grown up. Being grown up. Interchangeable with another black folk expression: “You trying to be grown.” Responsible. In charge. Serious.
2. Also: A woman who loves other women, sexually and/or nonsexually. Appreciates and prefers women’s culture, women’s emotional flexibility (values tears as natural counterbalance of laughter), and women’s strength. Sometimes loves individual men, sexually and/or nonsexually. Committed to survival and wholeness of entire people, male and female. Not a separatist, except periodically, for health. Traditionally universalist, as in: “Mama, why are we brown, pink, and yellow, and our cousins are white, beige, and black?” Ans.: “Well, you know the colored race is just like a flower garden, with every color flower represented.” Traditionally capable, as in: “Mama, I’m
walking to Canada and I’m taking you and a bunch of other slaves with me.” Reply: “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
3. Loves music. Loves dance. Loves the moon. Loves the Spirit. Loves love and food and roundness. Loves struggle. Loves the Folk. Loves herself. Regardless.
4. Womanist is to feminist as purple to lavender.
— A. Walker, In Search of Our Mother’s Gardens,1984: xi-xii (via holaafrica)
(via soulofacityy)
Chien-Shiung Wu (1912-1997) was a physicist. She worked on nuclear fission in the 1930s, and worked on the Manhattan Project at Columbia University during the second world war. After the war, she continued to research at Columbia Uni. Wu and two of her colleagues disproved a law of symmetry in physics, but while her two male colleagues were awarded a Nobel Prize, Wu was not recognised.
LLS
(via withincolor)
The Astonishing Annual Red Crab Migration
Named one of the planet’s most breathtaking migrations, the Christmas Island red crab exodus is a natural phenomenon that continues to astonish.
Making it onto CNN Travel’s recent list of the “10 most spectacular wildlife migrations,” the island’s annual red crab migration is an astounding event that involves the movement of millions of vividly colored crabs as they leave their in-land homes to breed and release eggs into the sea.
An Australian territory, Christmas Island lies some 2,600 kilometers north-west of Perth in the middle of the Indian Ocean. While just 1,500 people live there, it is home to an estimated 120 million crabs.
NOPE.
(via hellokrissi)
“How will your tattoos look when you’re old?!”
Pretty fucking bad ass apparently.Hell to the yes
I can’t WAIT to be old with my tattoos.
(Source: thievinggenius, via justjasper)
—
Jane H. Hill, The Everyday Language of White Racism (via wretchedoftheearth)
*****
This is like when me and my white soon-to-be husband were looking for places. I’d call up and they’d say, “Come on down! Get an application!”. Because I don’t “sound” black.
Then I’d walk in 2 minutes later and they’d be all, “Oh. Sorry, we just rented it.”
Then I’d send him in and he’d get an application.
The best part? Walking back in while he was completing the application. “Oh, they gave you an application? But they told me it was just rented. ODD. THAT. I’m going to report them so let’s just skip this place, m’kay?” The looks on their faces and the pathetic apologies were just too much fun.
Used to deal with the same thing with road trips. Hotels would tell me that there were no vacancies, but my white roommate would go in and get us a room, usually cheaper than advertised.
*****
(via faboomama)
I do similar stuff at restauants and other places of business with my white bf. At least it makes it easier to know where not to go!
(via 23andchildfree)
Reblogging again for the commentary
(via darkjez)
But we’re just supposed to *trust* and think everything is an *isolated* incident.
(via hamburgerjack)
Not so sophisticated scholars, were they? I mean this really, really shouldn’t be all that surprising.
(via stfunithingas)
It shouldn’t be surprising, but I guarantee that most white people find it unbelievable
(via wretchedoftheearth)
I’m going to reblog this every time I see it on my dash. My parents pointed out how this phenomenon worked when we were moving to PA (they’d get steered to crummier neighborhoods and have to insist on being shown others). Housing discrimination is still pretty widespread and the gatekeepers? Tend to either intentionally or due to unchecked bias reinforce the status quo.
(via invisiblelad)
It always floors me the things people are surprised at. Meanwhile, every person of color is sitting here like, “Oh. Must be another day that ends in Y, and in other news, water is wet.” Like, really, people are surprised by this, and whenever they show surprise at learning stuff that we go through, I have to poker face, lest I end up giving them the most disbelieving side eye in history because how do you NOT know this? But then, you know. Some people have the privilege of being able to be unaware it because it’s not a problem they have to deal with. :/ (via lori-jaye)
Reblogged again for commentary
(via covenesque)
Sounds like my friends when they were looking for a place in Midtown memphis(mostly white liberal middle class area)… they said people would invite them to see the places and then would either suddenly become unavailable or they would just ignore their phone calls.. but the Obama’s said “no more excuses.. work harder”…
(via jcoleknowsbest)
Sort of had this issue with an acquaintance of my boss. The application was approved and all systems were go until the potential tenant (a Black person) faxed in a copy of their picture ID. Suddenly, the landlord didn’t want to rent the home out anymore. A real estate agent on behalf of the client threatened to pursue legal action and the acquaintance asked us for advice.
I read the email and was like, “pbbft, your landlord fucked himself over. what do you want us to say? have fun getting sued, you should’ve known better.”
(via sara-huynh)
Officially in love with sara-huynh
(via carrionofcats)
All of this beautiful commentary.
(via cognitivedissonance)
(via stillnotready)
of understanding loss, grace of the word ‘no’
and also being able to say ‘you are not kind’
the year of humanity/humility
when the whole world couldn’t get out of bed
everyone i’ve met this year says the same thing
‘you are so easy to be around, how do you do that?’
the year i broke open and dug out all the rot with own hands
the year i learnt small talk
and how to smile at strangers
the year i understood that i am my best when i reach out and ask ‘do you want to be my friend?’
the year of sugar, everywhere
softness. sweetness. honey honey.
the year of being alone
and learning how much i like it
the year of hugging people i don’t know because i want to know them
the year i made peace and love
right here”
— Warsan Shire (via commovente)
(via freedomandjesus)
You are not the first person I looked at
with a mouthful of forevers. We
have both known loss like the sharp edge
of a knife. We have both lived with lips
more scar tissue than skin. Our love came
unannounced in the middle of the night.
Our love came when we’d given up
on asking love to come. I think
that has to be part
of its miracle.
This is how we heal.
I will kiss you like forgiveness. You
will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms
will bandage and we will press promises
between us like flowers in a book.
I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat
on your skin. I will write novels to the scar
on your nose. I will write a dictionary
of all the words I have used trying
to describe the way it feels to have finally,
finally found you.
And I will not be afraid
of your scars.
I know sometimes
it’s still hard to let me see you
in all your cracked perfection,
but please know:
whether it’s the days you burn
more brilliant than the sun
or the nights you collapse into my lap
your body broken into a thousand questions,
you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I will love you when you are a still day.
I will love you when you are a hurricane.
— Clementine von Radics, Mouthful of Forevers (via adderalldust)
(via temperandblood)
