giraffesandtheclap:

I haven’t seen a post where these are all together, so I thought I’d make one. This shit is important.

[x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

chirikli:

Remember that time when it was legal to deny Romani people homes and jobs in the United States until 1998? 1998. Fewer than 20 years ago. And how my family is still followed in stores, fired from jobs, harassed, called dirty? How we had to change our surname and pretend we were Arab just so we could get into this country? How most of my mother’s family disowned her for marrying my babo?

but, no, please tell me how there is no anti-Romani sentiment in the US

phdscar:

Fucking Legendary

honesteve:

Star Trek speaks to us of a reality where we are explorers, peacekeepers, and visionaries, a reality where we conduct ourselves with grace and intent. It tells us to be optimists, and to see the fundamental light at the heart of our being. And it encourages us to keep striving, and keep reaching, for we have no limits, not even in the stars. That is why Star Trek is one of the greatest stories ever told.

sellaphix:

mysoulhasgrowndeep-liketherivers:

postracialcomments:

This picture reminded me of the picture in 1965

“Hog-spitting – not just spitting,” Tonja Bulley emphatically clarifies.

“He just hog-spit at my baby. He hog-spit. He took everything out of him and spit in my daughter’s face. She is a minor. That’s the absolute worst thing you can do, when you spit on another human being. She was just saying ‘No justice, no peace’ and he hog-spit (at) and then smacked my baby. At that time — there was no more being peaceful.”

Bulley and her daughter, Brandy were released from jail last night after being arrested by police outside the St. Louis Rams game the previous day after a violent clash with football fans.

As the Rams were completing an impressive 28-26 victory over the Super Bowl champions Seattle Seahawks, Tonja and Brandy were outside the stadium participating in a non-violent protest calling for justice for Mike Brown, and the immediate arrest of his killer, Darren Wilson.

Tonja, known affectionately to her friends as “Tiny,” continued:

“We were peacefully protesting. We were saying something that this big, tall White man did not like. He should’ve been locked up, and they did not lock him up. One slapped my daughter and another hit her with his fist. Another woman threw her drink on me – and I retaliated. I’m not coming out to fight, but I have the right to protect myself.”

Tiny would eventually get punched and knocked to the ground. “I got hit by a couple people. I have a mark behind my ear.” She was initially charged with two felonies for throwing punches after the initial altercation. No violent Rams fans were arrested.

She says the racial double-standards were apparent: “We had a right to protest without anybody interfering. When the White people protest, there are no problems. Nobody is spitting on them. When we try to do it, the media goes around and acts like we started (the fighting.) We did not start it. I peacefully protest every day in Ferguson, and it’s never a problem.”

In Ferguson, Tiny and Brandy have been protesting since Brown was killed in August, and have become unofficial members of the Lost Voices—a spirited and well-known group of young leaders who led Sunday’s protest.

Source

white people beat up a little black girl and mother and feminists are writing full articles about why being a basic bitch is a good thing

Fuck this so much.

Rinko Kikuchi by Akinori Ito

hype-kaminari-kun:

マリオログ by はひっ。 on pixiv

** Permission was granted by the artist to share this image. DO NOT EDIT OR REPOSTED**

Well, no. I had never planned to be there that day. We held the funeral service for my dad late that afternoon at Fort Sam, in San Antonio, and I was not planning on returning to Austin. My colleagues in the Senate, both Republican and Democrat, had told me that Wendy was supposed to start her filibuster and that they were just going to let her ride it out and then they would call a special session the next morning. I don’t know when that changed. But I do know that my family was gathered for supper, and my kids and grandkids had put together a photo montage of Bimple—that’s what they called my father. And about the time I was looking at that on my iPad, my chief of staff, Gilbert Loredo, who has been with me for seventeen years, came up and said, “I hate to tell you this, but they just called Senator Davis on the second point of order.” I said, “What do you mean, point of order? Isn’t she just talking?” He said, “No. They changed the plans. They’ve got two Republican senators on thirty-minute shifts, and one is watching everything she does and one is watching everything she says. They’ve decided they’re not going to let her achieve this.”

At that moment I looked up, and there’s a picture on my iPad from when I was governor for a day; I’d called out my dad, and he was standing up and blowing me kisses. And I thought of all the times that my dad stood up for me. The memories just kept coming back, of things like that he would do when I was introduced to his friends, you know, and they would say, “Oh, what a pretty little girl,” or in Spanish, “Oh, qué niña más bonita.” And my dad says, it’s the first thing out of his mouth, “She’s the smartest in her class. Es la más inteligente.” I wasn’t, but because my dad said I was, I thought I might be. And because I thought I might be, I studied a lot. And then I never had the Barbie girl figure, so I understand the little girl growing up in the fifties and the sixties who had big thighs. So what my dad taught me was that it wasn’t what I looked like, it was how smart I was and the strength that I had. My dad was so formative in those early years, when the messages to girls were very different. All that came rushing back, and I looked at Gilbert and said, “I have to go.” Then I said, “If they’ve already called the second point of order, I won’t make it.” He says, “I have DPS outside.”

I went because I thought that if Wendy saw me, she might get some strength from that, but I never intended to say anything, because I was at the bottom of an emotional well. I had nothing left. And it wasn’t just about my dad’s death—we had also lost our grandson during the session. I said what I said out of frustration. I wasn’t thinking about my political future. But it was a toxic summer. It was hurtful to see how the collegiality and the good work that we had done during the legislative session—and we did good work during the legislative session—was tossed aside.

stulivingston:

I always struggled with reading comprehension as a kid and found that recasting the stories with anime and video game characters helped keep me interested. Did anyone else have this same problem? I’m curious as to how you guys overcame it! :)

stormingtheivory:

change.org just sent me a petition to demand that the US name a warship after Harvey Milk and if that isn’t the most succinct example of the way queer advocacy has been coopted by neoliberalism and the military-industrial complex, bless me I don’t know what is.