#I do try to listen to indigenous voices on the topic though

[bonefall]

Since you were discussing Outcast, it reminded me of how much I disliked the tribe books as a kid. I always found them so boring because it was the same song and dance every single time. But then I remembered how Sign of the Moon is my least favorite and I've been wanting to complain about the time travel aspect for like a week. It's interesting if not super silly even for Warriors, but what infuriates me the most is Jayfeather, as Jay's Wing, inventing the entirely of the tribe while back in time. It's like an American going back to before people started colonizing America and inventing an indigenous tribe, and it pisses me off.

Ever since I was little, I've always loved sociology. My upbringing was marked by trying to 'reconnect' with culture. Without getting too into it, my primary parent escaped a very destructive cult-like flavor of born-again Christian evangelism. In the aftermath they tried to find meaning they felt had been taken from them by that traumatic generational event.

(what we 'reconnected with' was inaccurate in hindsight and we narrowly avoided getting swept up into ANOTHER cult-like religion but... I don't want to get too into it. I will confirm though that I am not American indigenous.)

I connected heavily to the way that Firestar's Quest introduced SkyClan, this group that was lost and destroyed by the others, my little baby kid hero Firestar declaring that he'd right this ancient wrong. Then with Code of the Clans, it felt like I was discovering the evolution of the culture in hindsight, like I was unearthing a lost history.

And then the Tribe came along, and I felt so excited. It was like, HERE IT IS! Now we're gonna find out what they were like! We get to see a culture that's survived for generations without the Code, and we get to see what the Clans used to be!

(keep in mind I was... 11? 12? and smack in the middle of rejecting the fear that comes with evangelism. i am more nuanced about this topic now, haha. there's no perfect halcyon period to return to in an ancient culture, but hey, at the time it made me feel I could live without something I was taught I couldn't.)

So... just sit with me for a moment and imagine what it felt like when the books started saying, loudly, that the Tribe was useless. Primitive and ineffective. Outcast was particularly painful, because the christian-coded Clan cats sent a mission's worth of guys to proselytize how the Tribe has to abandon what matters to them, just to become a 6th Clan, and the Tribe cats are treated as stagnant and unreasonable for that.

...And how every time the Clan cats lose their (christian) values, they go back to abandoning elders, killing indiscriminately, disconnecting with their culture...

AND THEN, JUST LIKE YOU SAID, it gets WORSE! Because THEN they didn't even allow the Tribe to really be ancestral. Jayfeather is the one who MAKES it what it is.

Not even the ancient clan cats can decide things. Jayfeather's vote makes them leave. Jayfeather teaches Half Moon to be a healer. Jayfeather brings them to the mountains. EVERYTHING just ends up going to a religious authority who decides how they're going to do things from now on.

And... it was painful. It hurt Little Bones a lot; it flew in the face of what I was escaping. Implying I'd be nothing without it. That there was nothing for me to find in my own history.

The Stones, man. The Stones. The Tribe's Stones haunt me.

#Tribe of Rushing Water #Warrior Cats #Religious trauma #Warrior Cats Analysis #It's a heavy subject for me #I do try to listen to indigenous voices on the topic though #I write from my own experiences #so a lot of my work and by extension the bonefall rewrite relates back to religion/finding meaning/politics/queerness and connection #And family of course... escaping a situation like that means that there are a lot of abusive people I loved but had to leave #you may notice it's why my abusive characters are still people #It wasn't helpful to me to make the people I had to leave into ghouls in my mind #It clicked when I realized that someone can still be IN pain and BE a human with good traits... and still mistreat you #And you don't deserve that #Even when if you were objective about it they might very well BE a ghoulish person #it doesn't help in the moment when you really love them #A lot of things #Ask to tag btw if I missed anything

[scarlet-bee]

[ID: A digital drawing, with the words "Happy Thanksgiving!" written at the top. Below the words is a person with a light skin tone. Her brown hair is long and wavy, and she wears glasses.

The person's eyes are closed, as she smiles with her mouth open. She is making a heart shape with her hands. End ID.]

(I used she/her because I assume the person in the drawing is you, feel free to correct me if I got anything wrong!)

Thank you!! Sorry I got to this so late! I don't really celebrate Thanksgiving anymore, but I still really appreciate this! :) [smiling face emoticon]

(The next few paragraphs aren't aimed at you specifically, just Americans who celebrate Thanksgiving in general.)

Admittedly, I'm not very educated on the actual history of Thanksgiving (AKA the full story, not just the version they teach us in school). However, I have read some about it, and I've seen Native Americans speak on how they feel about the holiday, which is enough to make me not want to support it anymore. I don't want to celebrate a holiday that originated from colonization and genocide, regardless of how much we try to seperate it from that origin.

I do still eat Thanksgiving dinner with my family (out of fear of how they'd react if I refused to take part), but I pretty much just think of it as a regular meal. I do acknowledge that I'm still technically taking part in the celebration, though, and it's on me that I haven't gotten the courage to speak up about it to my family yet.

I can't tell anyone to stop celebrating (I'd be a hypocrite if I did, and I obviously can't control what other people do), but I do urge my fellow Americans to learn more about the history behind Thanksgiving, listen to Native Americans about the topic, and make your own decision based on that knowledge. I recommend this post as a starting point.

Most importantly, we need to listen to and support Native Americans and other Indigenous people all year round, not just on days like Thanksgiving and Columbus Day. We need to keep working to educate ourselves, listen to Indigenous people, boost their voices, and support them monetarily when we're able to.

(Back to talking to just you now!)

This probably wasn't the response you were expecting, haha. I know you were just trying to wish me a happy holiday, so I kind of didn't want to be a "downer," but I wouldn't have felt right posting something about Thanksgiving without acknowledging all of this. Like I said, though, I do really appreciate the thought behind this! It's nice that you thought of me, and it always makes me happy when people draw things for me! Thanks again for the well wishes and for the art!! <3 [heart emoticon]

#asks #author of the year #author-of-the-year #puff #thanksgiving #art #original art #for me #art for me

[ailuronymy]

Thoughts on the new discourse? Warrior cats naming conventions and rank names being straight up stolen from native American people? So many people seem to be... Straight up leaving the Fandom or changing all of their fan content and it feels very performative and, people not actually thinking critically and just being scared of getting "cancelled"? I feel like your opinions on these matters are very informed and well written so I wanted to ask given that this blog main theme is, well, warrior cat naming system and that seems to be the main issue of the new discourse.

This is probably going to get long, since there's sort of a lot to say about it in order to talk about this whole thing fairly and constructively, because from what I’ve seen there’s a lot of hyperbole happening, and panicking, and disavowing this series and fandom, and so on, like you say, and also some people genuinely trying to have complex meaningful conversations about racism in xenofiction, and also probably some bad faith actors in the mix--as well as some just... stupid actors. Kind of inevitably what happens when two equally bad platforms for having nuanced discussions--i.e., twitter and tumblr--run headlong into each other, in a fandom space with a majority demographic of basically kids and highly anxious, pretty online teens. I don’t mean that as a criticism of fans or their desire to be liked by peers and “correct” about opinions, it’s just the social landscape of Warriors and I think it’s worth pointing out from the start.  

If I’m totally honest with you, if not for this ask, I wouldn’t actually be commenting on it at all, because none of this is going to impact this blog or change how I run it in any way. But since you’ve asked and frankly I do feel some responsibility to try to disentangle things a little for everyone stressed and confused at the moment, because I know a lot of people look to this blog for guidance of all sorts, I’m going to talk about what I think has happened here, and how to navigate the situation in a reasonable way. 

Quick recap for anyone blissfully unaware: from what I understand, this post (migrated over from a presumably bigger twitter thread) has got a lot of people very worried about Warriors being a racist and appropriative series, and now are trying to figure out what ethically to do about this revelation. The thing I found most interesting about this screenshotted conversation is that it makes a lot of bold claims, but misses some pretty surprising details (in my opinion). If you do look critically at what is being said, here’s a few things to notice--crucially, there are two people talking. 

Person 1 says that a lot of animal fantasy fiction + xenofiction (fiction about non-human/”other” beings, such as animals) is frequently built upon stereotypes of First Nations and Indigenous people, and/or appropriates elements of Indigenous culture and tradition as basically set dressing for “strange” and “alien” races/species etc., and this is a racist, deeply othering, and inappropriate practice. This person is right. 

I’ve spent years researching in this field specifically, so I feel pretty confident in vouching (for whatever that’s worth) that this person is absolutely right in making this point. Not only is it frequently in animal fiction/xenofiction, but it’s insidious, which means often it’s hard to notice when it’s happening--unless you know what you’re looking for, or you are personally familiar with the details or tropes that are being appropriated. Because of the nature of racism, white and other non-First Nations people don’t always recognise this trend within texts--even texts they’re creating--but it’s important for us all, and especially white people, to be more aware, because it’s not actually First Nations’ people’s responsibility to be the sole critics of this tradition of theft and misuse. Appropriation by non-Indigenous people is in fact the problem, which means non-Indigenous people learning and changing is the solution. 

Person 1 offers Warriors as a popular example of a work that has this problem. Notably, this person hasn’t given an example of how Warriors is culpable (at least in this screenshot and I haven’t found the thread itself, because the screenshot is what’s causing this conversation), only that it’s an example of a work that has these problems. And once again, this person is correct. We’ll look at that more in a moment.

Person 2 (three tweets below the first) offers, by comparison, several more specious insights. Firstly, it’s really, really not the only time anyone’s ever talked about this, academically + creatively or in the Warriors fandom specifically, and so that reveals somewhat this person’s previous engagement in the space they’re talking into re: this topic. In other words, this person doesn’t know what has already been said or what is being talked about. Secondly, this person explicitly states that they “[don’t know] much about warrior cats specifically but from what I see it just screams appropriation,” which as a statement I think says something crucial re: the critical lens this person has applied + the amount of forethought and depth of analysis of their criticism of this particular series. 

I’m not saying that using twitter to talk about your personal feelings requires you to research everything you talk about before you shoot your mouth off. However, I personally don’t go into a conversation about a topic I don’t know anything about except a cursory glance to offer bold and scathing criticisms based on what it “just screams” to me. By their own admission, this person isn’t really offering good faith, thoughtful criticism of the series, in line with Person 1′s tweet. Instead, Person 2 is talking pretty condescendingly and emphatically about--as the kids say--the vibes they get from the series, and I’m afraid that just doesn’t hold up well in this court. 

So now that there’s Person 1 (i.e., very reasonable, important, interesting criticism) and Person 2 (i.e., impassioned but completely vibes-based opinion from someone who hasn’t read the books) separated, we can see there’s actually several things happening in this brief snapshot, and some of them aren’t super congruent with each other. 

Person 1 didn’t say “don’t read bad books,” or that you’re a bad person for being a fan of stories that are guilty of this. They suggested people should recognise the ways xenofiction uses Indigenous people and their culture inappropriately and often for profit. My understanding of this tweet is someone offering an insight that might not have occurred to many people, but that is valuable and important to consider going forward in how they view, engage with, and create xenofiction media.

Person 2 uses high modality, evocative language that appeals to the emotions. That’s not a criticism of this person: they’re allowed to talk in whatever tone they want, and to express their personal feelings and opinions. However, rhetorically, this person is using this specific language--consciously or subconsciously--to incense their audience--i.e., you. Are you feeling called to action? What action do you feel called to when you rea their words, despite the fact their claims are not based in their own actual analysis of or engagement with the text? It’s, by their own admission, not analysis at all. Everything they evoke is purely in the name of “not good” vibes. 

Earlier I mentioned that Person 1 is correct that Warriors is absolutely guilty of appropriation of First Nations and Indigenous people and culture. I also mentioned that they didn’t specify how. That’s because I think the most egregious example is in fact the tribe, which in many ways plays into the exact kind of stereotyping and appropriation of First Nations Americans that Person 1 mentions, and not the clans, contrary to Person 2′s suggestion. For instance, in addition to the very loaded name of “tribe”, there’s a lot of racist tropes present in how that group of cats is introduced and how the clan cats interact with them, as well as the more North American-inspired scenery of their home. It’s very blatant as far as racism in this series. 

When it comes to the clans themselves, though, I think it’s muddier and harder to draw clear distinctions of what is directly appropriative, what is coincidentally and superficially reminiscent, and what is not related at all. Part of this difficulty in drawing hard lines comes from the fact that, on a personal level, it actually doesn’t matter: if a First Nations person reads a story and feel it is appropriative or inappropriate, it’s not actually anyone’s place to “correct” them on their reading of the text. Our experiences are unique and informed by our perspectives and values, and no group of people are a monolith, which means within community, there will always be disagreement and differenting points of view. There is no one single truth or opinion, which means that First Nations people even in the same family might have very different feelings about the same text and very different perspectives on how respectful, or not, it might be. 

I’m saying this because something that gets said very often when conversations of racism and similar oppressive systems present/perpetuated in texts comes up, people frequently say: “listen to x voices.” It is excellent advice. However, the less pithy but equally valuable follow-up advice is: “listen to the voices of many people of x group, gather information and perspective, and then ultimately use your own judgement to make an informed opinion for yourself.” It means that you are responsible for you. The insight you can gain by listening to people who know topics and experiences far better than you do is truly invaluable, but if your approach to the world is simply to parrot the first voice, or loudest voice, or angriest voice you come across, you will not really learn anything or be able to develop your own understanding and you certainly won’t be making well-informed judgements. 

In other words, one incomplete tweet thread from two people who are each bringing quite different topics and modes of conversation (or perhaps gripes, in Person 2′s case) to the table is not really enough to go off re: making a decision to leave a fandom, in my opinion. In fact, I think in responding to anything difficult, complex, or problematic (which doesn’t mean what popular adage bandies it about to mean) by trying to distance yourself, or cleanse of it, will ultimately harm you and will not do you any good as a person. It is better, in my opinion, to enter into complex relationships with the world and media and other people in an informed, aware way and with a willingness to learn and sometimes to make mistakes and be wrong, rather than shy away from potential conflict or fear that interacting with a text will somehow taint you or define your morality in absolutes. 

So. Does Warriors have racist and appropriative elements, tropes, and issues in the series? Yes, of course it does, it’s a book-packaged series produced by corporation HarperCollins and written by a handful of white British women and their myriad ghostwriters. Racism is just one part of the picture. The books are frequently also ableist, sexist, and homophobic (or heteronormative, depending how you want to slice it, I guess), just to name some of the most evident problems. 

But does the presence of these issues mean it’s contaminated and shouldn’t be touched? Personally, I don’t think so. Given the nature of existing the world, it’s not possible to find perfect media that is free of any kind of bias, prejudice, or even just ideas or topics or concepts that are challenging or uncomfortable. I think it’s more meaningful to choose to engage with these elements, discuss them, criticise them, learn from them, and acknowledge also that imperfection is the ultimate destiny of all of us, especially creators.

I’m not saying that as a pass, like, “oh enjoy your media willy-nilly, nothing matters, do what you want, think about no-one else ever because we’re all flawed beings,” but rather that it’s important not to look away from the problems in the things we enjoy, rather than cut off all contact and enjoyment when we realise the problems. That doesn’t mean you have to only criticise and always be talking about how bad a thing you like is either, publicly admonishing yourself or the text, because that’s also not a constructive way to engage with media. 

As I said, there’s a lot to say here, and believe it or not, this is honestly the shortest version I could manage. There’s always more to say and plenty I haven’t talked about, but pretty much tl;dr: 

I don’t find Person 2′s commentary particularly compelling, personally, because I think it’s a little broad and a little specious in its conclusions and evidence, and I also suspect that this person is speaking more from their feelings than from a genuine desire to educate or meaningfully criticise, unlike Person 1. That’s not to say Warriors isn’t frequently racist and guilty of the issues Person 1 is discussing, because it is, but I don’t think this tweet thread is a great source of insight into the ongoing history of this problem in xenofiction, or Warriors specifically, on its own. I would recommend exploring further afield to learn more from a variety of sources and form your own opinions. I hope this helps. 

#just in case anyone sees this post and gets the wrong idea: i'm not inviting debate on this. #i am saying that first nations people are allowed to have ANY relationship with texts because that's how subjectivity works. #they are allowed to have negative neutral or positive experiences of texts--even 'bad' ones that have a lot of problems. #the people in this tweet are just talking about their thoughts and it's their bad luck the world's a public forum and it's spiralled. #the other thing i am saying is that if your approach to media is exclusively to cut out any problematic text like it's a cancer #that's not a great strategy. just straight up. you're better off developing critical insight and your own opinions and confidence. #by most parameters i can think of warriors as a series pretty much sucks really bad and i've been saying that for nearly ten years. #despite being so phenomenally flawed it can still have value--and much of its value in my opinion is IN these conversations about it. #so yeah tl;dr 2: i'm not here to slap-fight with teens which is what much discourse devolves to after 5 mins on tumblr so don't try it.

[transgenderteensurvivalguide]

Why is it that people seem to always support trans women more than trans men?

 Lee says:

If you’re part of an online forum community that is primarily transfeminine, for example, then there’s going to be a lot of resources for transfeminine people.

But if you’re part of an online forum community that is primarily transmasculine, for example, then there’s going to be a lot of resources for transmasculine people. 

And just as there are particular online spaces and communities that tend to be predominated by a certain group, there are also IRL ones that are primarily transmasculine or primarily transfeminine even if they are not explicitly defined as such. 

If you feel like you aren’t being supported enough in the space you’re currently in, see if you can find a community that does focus around the resources you’re looking for! 

As an example- you may have noticed that the transmasculine post-op community on Tumblr is pretty small. There definitely are multiple bloggers out there, and I think I actually follow all of them, but this isn’t really a thriving hub of phalloplasty information or support, or a large community of transmasculine folks who are post-op and post-transition (Thanks, Tumblr NSFW ban!).

So instead, I seek out the spaces where the community I want to be a part of actually is gathering. Now I’m part of many different transmasculine lower surgery groups on Facebook (over 20 of em lol), I’ve attended IRL transmasculine lower surgery support group meetings in person, and now I’m in two different Zoom-based transmasculine bottom surgery support groups. 

I also believe that if you want to see more of a particular thing, you should be a part of putting that thing out there! So I still maintain my transition sideblog here on Tumblr, where I will eventually document my phallo when I get stage 1 in May. And that’s how I support the transmasculine community, in my own way. So if you want to see more supportive posts for transmasculine folks, start typing!

We also have to remember that uplifting transfeminine doesn’t automatically occur at the expense of support for transmasculine people. We aren’t trying to tear each other down, so being resentful of the transfeminine community for the people who support them isn’t a good look. Transfeminine people can never have “too much” support!

I do think that there are certain spaces online that tend to focus on positivity and support for transfeminine folks, and there’s nothing wrong with that- again, yes, transfeminine people do deserve support! Transfeminine people often face the brunt of society’s violent transphobia, and it’s important that we recognize the way that trans women specifically are targeted more than other groups are. 

Trans women are often hypervisible and a lot of transphobic movements are aimed at them as a result; bathroom bills because transphobes don’t want “men” in women’s bathrooms, banning trans athletes because transphobes don’t want “men” to take over women’s teams, trans people being banned from gendered homeless shelters because transphobes don’t want “men” to sleep in the same room as women, and so on. When you listen to any of these politicians who support these gross things, you’ll hear them constantly talk about the “danger” that trans women pose (while insisting on gendering them as “men” and refusing to recognize that they’re even women). Trans men aren’t even an afterthought.

Being culturally hypervisible in the media means you’re the target of a lot of hate and the recipient of a lot of support, which is all happening at the same time. On the other hand, the transmasculine community at large is less visible in the media which means we often slip under the radar as a community which of course does tie into the erasure of the community. Transmasculine people more often slip under the radar on a personal level too, because many transmasculine people are able to pass by at least 5 years on testosterone and many choose to go stealth as soon as they’re able to.

That doesn’t mean that all transmasculine people can pass or want to pass, or that transmasculine people don’t face transphobia and violence either, or that the vitriol targeting trans women doesn’t invalidate us as well or affect our rights too, or that we shouldn’t get to share our experiences or ask for support. 

We can and should talk about transmasculine people’s experiences as well, and transmasculine voices shouldn’t be erased. Studies have shown that suicide attempt rate for trans boys is approximately 20.9% higher than it is for trans girls, for example, and there are many similar statistics showing that trans men struggle in many ways and face a lot of discrimination, which of course deserves acknowledgement.

Experiencing discrimination and subsequent mental health struggles isn’t something that should be glossed over, yet there are many pseduo-progressive folks in the LGBTQ/feminist communities whose posts can sometimes come across as “men are bad and trans men are men so they’re bad!” When you point out that there are plenty of marginalized men out there who need support, people are quick to say “Well, I’ll support you for being trans but I don’t need to support you because you’re a man since men have privilege and therefore perpetuate oppression!” But in the case of trans men, supporting someone for being trans is the same thing as supporting them in being a man, you can’t separate the two.

And you can spend all day talking about in what situations transmasculine people have access to male privilege and in what conditions the privilege applies and so on, but that is a separate conversation from the point here, which is everyone deserves support and that includes trans men (and gay men, and disabled men, and Black men, and Indigenous men, and Asian men, and so on). 

Things like body-shaming men for having neckbeards or small penises is seen as okay even though body-shaming women for having body hair or having small breasts is recognized as misogynistic. Sometimes folks respond by saying something like “you can’t oppress your oppressor” which... makes no sense in this context. Making people feel that their bodies are bad goes against the whole body-positive feminist movement, and that’s true no matter which people you think you’re targeting. 

It’s also pretty obvious that being a man doesn’t inherently make you a bad person, but a lot of the hate and anger directed at men (whether it’s posted as a joke or said seriously by someone who went through trauma) can make it difficult for trans men to recognize that they’re men because they don’t want to become the thing everyone hates. 

So how do we navigate allowing marginalized people to vent about groups who have privilege without causing collateral damage to other oppressed people? 

Some people have tried to solve it by saying “I hate only cis men, not trans men!” but then of course you’ve created a new issue which is the arbitrary distinguishment between a cis man and a trans man. A trans man can be just as misogynistic as a cis man, and being trans doesn’t mean anything about who you are as a person, all it says is something about the gender you were assigned when you were born.

When you say that you only hate cis men, you’re implying that you don’t hate trans men because you think they’re different than cis men in some way in their thoughts/behavior/actions which is a transphobic assumption. 

Or you’re saying you know that trans men and cis men can be identical in their thoughts/behavior/actions because they’re all men, so the reason you don’t hate trans men is ... ?? because they had certain genitals at birth (which they may not have anymore) ?? And that’s also transphobic because it’s saying you hate people solely because of their bodies which they can’t always control or change and implies having a particular type of body is morally wrong somehow or that your body makes you a bad person.

When someone makes a point of telling a trans man that they hate men, it’s sometimes a deliberate transphobic tactic used to make the person feel like having a male gender identity is inherently bad and makes you bad because it’s who you are, so the only way to become a good person is to not be a man which means not being transgender. And this is some how TERFs try and convince trans teens who were AFAB to re-identify as women instead of embracing being men. It’s hard to embrace being something that people have told you is problematic so people try to repress their feelings and ignore who they are.

Yet folks who don’t say “I hate all men” and instead say “the patriarchy sucks but it’s okay to be a man and not all men are bad” have found that statement controversial too. 

Even that phrase, “not all men,” is a red flag because it’s primarily used by the “men’s rights” folks who try and defend their misogyny and push their anti-feminist agenda while denying the ways that they personally benefit from the system. All men benefit from the system of patriarchy if they are recognized as men by the system, but that doesn’t mean every individual man is personally responsible for actively perpetuating oppression or that every man is a bad person.

So when someone points out the ways that men are taught to hate themselves by people who are constantly bashing on men in hurtful ways, or the struggles that men face (even if they aren’t struggles unique to men), there are people who just freak out because they think that acknowledging this is in some way trying to say that men can’t be oppressors, or that pointing it out is somehow delegitimizing women’s experiences or part of a pushback against women’s rights because the MRAs have tried to stake a claim over the entire topic.

So any nuanced conversation about ways that we actually can support men and break down oppression and uplift marginalized folks has been silenced because this toxic group has dominated the conversation and nobody wants to accidentally seem like they support those things, so they don’t support anything that focuses on men at all.

Similarly, when someone posts about something that affects trans men people (usually cis people TBH) often will respond with “trans women have it worse with that issue, and everything else too!” which isn’t a helpful response because while it’s important to recognize the way that trans women face multiple axes of oppression, uplifting trans women in a way that makes it impossible for another marginalized group to have a conversation doesn’t help anyone. It’s okay for some posts to not be about or for trans women without starting to play the Oppression Olympics games because transmasculine people also need support and space and allowing transmasculine people to talk about their experiences doesn’t mean that transfeminine people are being ignored.

All that being said, I would argue that people definitely don’t always support trans women more than trans men, and I wouldn’t even say that people usually do so. It very much depends on the space you’re in. While I do believe that there are a lot of positivity/supportive posts about trans women on Tumblr, this is, in many ways, a direct reaction to counter the large volume of hate that’s also actively being directed at trans women on Tumblr. And while there are plenty of “love trans women!” posts, there is also an issue with the lack of practical resources and material support for trans women because most of the content does not go beyond the surface level heart-emoji type post.

So in what I’ve noticed on Tumblr specifically (as this varies depending on the platform you’re using and the space you’re in), there can be more vocal (aka performative) support for trans women but it mostly tends to focus on their identities saying they’re valid women and so on but doesn’t give them much information or material support or anything else that I would deem a useful resource, whereas there might be less support for trans men in terms of “gender identity positivity for being male” but there’s more practical resources and information that they can use to aid in their transition.

Again, whatever you do, don’t complain that transfeminine people have too much support- that’s not the same thing as saying that you’d like more support for trans men struggling with X issue.

And yes, while we do have many things in common, there are some differences in the struggles the community faces and the experiences we have, and it’s okay to want to talk with other folks who are going through the same thing. That doesn’t mean that you don’t care about transfeminine people or that you think they should have a smaller platform or something, it just means you’d like support for your identity and transition (which is wholly unrelated to how much support there is or isn’t available for them).

So if you are looking for more support for trans men and feel like you aren’t getting what you need in the online or IRL spaces you’re currently moving in, you should try finding the spaces that are meant to be supportive communities for trans men and join them, whether they’re specific blogs, Facebook groups, Discord servers, or in-person/on-Zoom support groups, and also do what you can to create the support you want to see for your community!

#Lee says #not really sure what to tag this as #transphobia #discourse #suicide m #Anonymous #trans #transgender #nonbinary #lgbtq #lgbt #transgender teen survival guide #transgenderteensurvivalguide #TTSG

[tigers-eyes-26]

My Theory of Huey, Louie, and Dewey’s Father

Disclaimer: In college I had an Oceania literature class. One of those books was Potiki by Patricia Grace. Really good book about indigenous peoples struggles. One of Potiki’s main character Toko has a mysterious conception. It made me think of the boy’s father being such an unexplained mystery. I am not Maori. IF you are Maori you can Correct anything in this fiction just add your comment. This is a work of fanfiction and is just for fun. Also, I can’t write accents, just know all the Maori people are talking in a Aotearoa accent, and Scrooge has Scottish Accent. Also Trigger Warning there is a rape scene, but it is not explicit. Also, thoughts of abortion, mentions of getting drugged. 

“Who is our father?”

 “Oh no one needed to be remembered.”

Aotearoa in the 2000s

Della wasn’t allowed in the men’s meeting house, where her brother and uncle were. The other women invited her to hang out with them, but she ended up hanging out with the kids of the community.  They played tricks on her and let her play their games. Della stepped aside to “catch her breath” but she really wanted to see if she could hear was the men were talking about. She wasn’t going to go inside the house, but it was made of wood, so hopefully she could hear from the outside. She put her ear to the back of the meeting house.

“Oi!” Della jumped she looked for the voice that called. A child around ten years old smiled up at her. she had seen him around the community. “What you doing?”

Her eyes darted around, “nothing just… just admiring these….carvings.”

The child was unconvinced but continued with the topic. “If you really want to see a carving there is one in the sea caves over there.” the kid pointed off to the rocky cliffs that waves roughly crashed against.

Della saw the challenge. “Why is it in a cave?”

The kid shrugged. “No one will tell me.”

Now her curiosity was peaked. “Well let’s go look at it.”  

Della gathered a wetsuit and some supplies from their boat. The kid pointed to a little arch that was just barely above the water. “Under there is a large cave with the Tekoteko in it.”

Della hummed she looked at the waves timing them. “This carving better be good.”

“Some say it is the most handsome Tekoteko in the entire world.” He made a circular motion with his arms and stood on his tip toes.

“Why would they put a ‘handsome’ carving in a cave?”

He shrugged.

“One last question before I jump in.” Della squirmed a little, “Do ya think there will be fish?”

the kid gave her a look like she was crazy. “it’s the ocean lady! Its where fish live!”

“I know but with the waves do…. Do you think they will touch me?”

The kid sighed. “I don’t think the fish can follow you into the cave.”

Della took a deep breath to stele her nerves. “Ok I have a mystery to solve.” Put in her respirator in and dove into the sea.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about the fish below you. She tried to focus on her goal. She got to the arch and dove under it. There really was a cave!

She got out her flashlight it was a really deep cave. she treaded onward. Why keep a carving this hidden?

She was expecting booby traps but there was none. Just a cave. how bor…. Wait was that a sound? Della stopped her inner monolog to listen carefully. There was a rushing of the ocean. She darted around to see if there was water coming into the cave. noth.. oh! There it was again.

“Hello?” she called.

“Eh” a voice answered

“Show yourself!” she prepped herself for a fight.

There was a cough. “Sorry… I don’t….like…light.” the voice was a young man’s but sounded unused.

Della wasn’t going to turn off her light, that a perfect excuse to ambush her in the dark.  “Who are you!?”

“I…guard the…Tekoteko…”

A Guard? Down here? for long time? in the dark? Whoever he was he wasn’t human.

“Well sense you guard it, you’re going to tell me to turn around and ever come back.”

“no….come….look.”

“It’s going to put a curse on me isn’t it?”

“some say….curse…. some say blessing……”

Mmmmm was this reverse psychology? “Why was it put down in this cave?”

“It’s their….magic….used…by….outsider. He….wished….for….eternal life…..”

“He became the carving, didn’t he?”

There was a chuckle. “intuitive…..”

“And if I break him out of the carving I get caught in the statue as he lives free?”

“He….needs….only….to be…..remembered.”

ah they put him down here to be out of sight out of mind. “Ok so just give me his name and I can write it in my journal and he will be remembered.”

“His name….its written….on…the….Tekoteko.”

“Nope this is a trap.”  She turned on her heel to leave. She took one step down into WATER! The tides! The water was rising. She had stayed in the cave too long. “Awwww Phooey!”

“continue….forward…higher… ground.”

Della sighed the voice was right she had been heading up a slope. Might as well keep going.

She came to an opening to an alcove. Ok just don’t look or touch the carving. She looked down at the ground it had some soft moss so that was good. She turned around to look at the ocean water.

“the….ocean….can’t…..reach…here.”

She realized the voice came from the back of the alcove probably from the carving itself. She just needed to wait until the tides lowered.  She heard wood creaking. She turned around trying to only look at the feet eh? stump? “Stay back!” She held her flashlight in front of her.

“I….need…only…to be…..remembered.”

“ya a creepy talking walking wooden statue that trapped me in a cave, hard to forget.”

“you’ll….. forget.”

Della felt hands on her arms. She struggled but the grip tightened. “Let go of me! You big palooka!” she tried to keep the flashlight on the statue.  She kicked at the wooden body, it didn’t seem to effect it. She banged her flashlight against his arms in hopes that she would splinter them. She pushed her feet against his body in hopes that she could slip out of his grip. The fingers started to grow long slender and slink down into her hand causing her to drop the flashlight.

“Look…..” his wooden arms slithered like a vine around her arms up to her face. She struggled more biting at the crawling wood. it got purchase of her head to hold it still.

“NO!” She grit her eyes closed. She could feel some splinters slithering into the corners of her eyes. “No!” Her eye lids were forcibly pried open. She saw the face of the Tekoteko. The eyes open on the carving. Underneath the wooden lids were shiny iridescent orbs. She had seen this on the other figures in village, but these eyes weren’t just shying with sunlight but with magic. Her mind started to fog. No! she couldn’t move her eyes. Her mind started to feel numb. She couldn’t open her mouth she figured the wood had wound itself around her beak.

“I need descendants.” This statement didn’t come from the statue it echoed around in her head. She felt her consciousness slipping.

***************************************************************

Della gasped jolting up. What…. What happened? The flashlight was still on. She picked it up and did a sweep of the alcove. She jumped when she saw the still carving. She waited. It didn’t move. Its eyes were open but there were no shiny part anymore just empty holes. She looked down at herself did she absorb his soul? Was he living in her mind now? She needed to know what kind of magic that was.

She zipped up her wet suit tighter around her neck. She found her oxygen tanks they had been unstrapped on thrown to the side. They still worked thank goodness. She started down though the sea cave. The tide had subdued. How long had she been out? She managed to make it out of the sea cave and into the waves. Her body felt weak.  

“Della!” she looked up at the cliff. Her brother dove into the ocean and her uncle was surrounded by the rest of the tribe. Donald wrapped a rope around her so the tribe could haul them out of the ocean.

 Della was chanted over and washed. So, she could enter the village again. The chief’s wife and several other ladies with tattoos on their chins. Gathered Della into a women’s house. Gave her regular clothes back. Once she was dressed, she was invited to sit among the women.

“I am so sorry for what has happened to you.” Lamented the Chief’s wife.

“What exactly happened to me?”

The ladies looked at each other. “Did you not….see?”

Della felt uncomfortable. “I was in some sort of hypnotic state…...”

There was a breath let out. “That may be a blessing.”  

Della only raised an eyebrow.

The lady continued, “Our statues that are carved are of relatives long gone. It is forbidden to carve people who are living. The purpose of the Tekoteko’s is for us to remember our ancestor’s stories. We keep our ancestors alive though us. The one that made that carving thought this meant he would be kept alive forever. A misinterpretation. No one is meant to carve unless they are set a part to do so. He was an outsider dealing with things he didn’t know.” The Chief lady rubbed her head irritated. “By carving that Tekoteko and having no descendants to keep his stories. He tied his soul to the Tekoteko….” Everyone now looked at Della. “Until he has descendants to release his soul from the wood.

Della started to sweat.

“We put that Tekoteko in that cave so that none of our girls would be…. harmed by him.”

Della felt like she would pass out. She took some deep breaths. “What should I do?”

“That is up to you.”

“What if I don’t have his…. descendants?”

“Our priest has some theories. But none of them are pleasant for your afterlife.”

Della frowned. “what if I… go through with it?”

“Our priest tells us his soul will move on. They will be the ones to continue his memory. They are his gate to being released from this world.”  

“I need to think.” she jogged out of the house.

****************************************************

Donald’s hands were broken for sure. He didn’t care. He wanted to demolish the one that had done this to his sister.  He had was laying on the grass, Tribes people were picking up the scraps of wood Donald had punched off the trees around him. Someone was going to get a new canoe from the tree he had downed. Della found him. She scooped up his body and hugged him. He started to huff and puff again.

“Dumbella!”

“WHAT!” she dropped his lame body back on the ground.

He hopped up at once, “You shouldn’t have gone in that dumb cave alone!” He squawked at her.  

She stood with her hands clenched. “I’m 25-year-old adventurer!  I don’t need an escort every where I go!”

“Well maybe you do!”

“What about you? 20 year old college student going off to South America with your band and getting drugged and beaten!”

They huff and puffed at each other, but the huffing and puffing turned into cries. They both cared about each other and just wanted to protect each other. They hugged again.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I want to go home.” She looked around the grove of trees. “Where is Uncle Scrooge?” Donald looked around too. They heard a snuffling behind a tree.

They approached their uncle’s hiding spot. Della gave a knock to the side of the tree. Scrooge quickly rubbed his handkerchief over his eyes. He looked up at the twins. “What am I going to tell Hortense?” his voice still shaky.

Della looked at Donald for some assistance. He just blinked at her. She took a deep breath. “Whatever we tell them, we’ll tell them together.”

#della duck #donald duck #aotearoa #new zealand #maori #fanfic #fanfiction #scrooge mcduck #ducktales #duck family #hortense duck #quackmore duck #The Three Caballeros #mythical conception

[purplesurveys]

771

Have you ever known anyone who was homeless? I don’t think so. Families here are always willing to take in their less fortunate relatives, and being homeless is usually the case for only the poorest of the poorest of the poor. I don’t think I know anyone from that sector.

Do you watch movies with the subtitles on? Yes. I have to, I’m horrible at following any foreign accent. Some English speakers will sometimes speak too fast or mumble their words, which can be such an inconvenience for me sometimes. Did you have a treehouse when you were younger? I didn’t. Most trees here have red ants and have never really been treehouse-friendly, sadly. Sports: Would you rather watch them or play them? Watch. Feels so nice to watch and cheer for your favorites with people who like the sport as much as you do. If you were a journalist, what types of stories would you want to cover? Finally a survey question that directly concerns my degree, hahaha. I loved doing situationers more than anything, meaning to say I never liked the fieldwork part of journalism but I enjoyed the hell out of doing research. Situationers are basically research-heavy outputs that will bring readers up to speed on a current hot topic - it can be anything from an extensive timeline, an in-depth analysis, a data-centric explainer, etc.

But if we’re strictly talking stories, I would love to cover marginalized groups and give them a voice. I once had to cover an informal settlement that was in danger of displacement after a corporation bought their land to build a casino/mall complex. That was my favorite story to write, and I would love to cover similar bases like labor issues, plight of the LGBTs, indigenous people, etc. if given the chance.

Do you think American Idol is rigged? They had some super unfair eliminations in the past that made me think it was rigged, yeah. I remember reading a bit from wrestler Chris Jericho’s memoir where he says he got eliminated from a dance show he once got to be in because the producers felt that there were too many male contestants, and the they simply picked him to be eliminated even though he had been doing  well. After reading that, I started thinking most competition shows do the same practice.

Have you ever participated in any type of medical study? No. Psychological studies, yes; but I don’t think I’ve joined anything medical in nature. Do you believe humans should have the option to be euthanized? Sure, though I think it should only be kept as an option for ultimate cases, like if someone with a terminal illness was due to pass any day. It shouldn’t be like an appointment that can be very easily fixed up for anyone. Have you ever taken a road trip with no destination in mind? No. Gas is too expensive for that privilege lmao. Do you give good directions? Not at all. Use Waze, man. I get confused when I’m at campus and someone rolls down their windows to ask me how to get to a certain building like...everything is Waze-able now dude... What do you think of when I say the word 'lumberjack'? Lumberjack matches in pro wrestling. Have you ever lied about your weight? Why? I don’t think so. I never really had to. Do you know how to do the Macarena? I know some steps but I wouldn’t be able to do the entire sequence. Have you ever tripped over one of your pets? Yessssss Kimi is scattered everywhere all the time lol. It doesn’t help that our floor is white and he is white. He’s always a good sport about it though. Have you ever been stuffed into your locker? No. Our lockers aren’t the tall, vertical type; they look more like cubbyholes, so it’ll be impossible to put a person in one of them. Can you make another person blush easily? Just my girlfriend. I’m not interested in making others blush. What would you change about the way your parents raised you? Like, if I myself got to be a parent? I’d definitely be more invested with my own kid - read to them before bed, have mom-kid days with them where the two of us would have dinner or do something else to bond together, be all ears when they tell me something they’re excited about, or support them when they find a new talent or hobby. I’d want to make my kid feel super loved and that they matter. My parents weren’t bad ones; they just didn’t form an emotional connection with me which in reality is just as important as being able to provide. Do you have to look perfect before you go out to the store? I don’t always have to be perfect; just acceptable. What is your state's motto? The motto has the city’s name in it, so no thanks. Are there any holidays that you feel are completely pointless? I was never a fan of the holidays that exclusively celebrate family members, like Mother’s Day. There are toxic moms or dads or grandparents that get completely overlooked during holidays like those and I feel like it’s unfair to those who have to live with those toxic relatives. Then again, maybe I just feel this way because I have an abusive mom and Mother’s Day is always hell on earth for me. Also why wait a year to celebrate the good ones? Do it everyday. Have you ever gone to work with one or both of your parents? Yes. There were a few times when my mom brought us to her workplace. What is the funnest sport that you got to play in P.E. class? Other than table tennis which I already play, futsal was fun. It was during that quarter I discovered that my foot-eye coordination wasn’t bad at all. Have you mastered the plastic guitar yet (Rock Band, Guitar Hero)? Never. I can never get my fingers to work properly in games like those. What is one cause you know you'll ALWAYS support? LGBT rights. What animals creep you out? Cockroaches. Have you ever done a walk/run for a charity or similar cause? I haven’t. It’d be fun to join at least one sometime, though! Do you like the smell of gasoline? I'm not addicted but like I wouldn’t be bothered if my window was down and I was able to smell it. When was the last time you had a piggyback ride? A couple of years ago. Have you ever owned or used a telescope? Yeah I got to use one to look at the moon at our Grade 7 stargazing activity. Do you have to see or witness certain phenomenons to believe them? Bingo. Do you know/remember what Shrinky-Dinks are? I am literally only hearing about them now. We didn’t have that here. Do you talk to store clerks like you know them? Noooooo and I really prefer they don’t talk to me or follow me around. In your town, are a lot of stores closed on Sundays? No. In fact pop-up stalls or bazaars are active on Sundays since that’s the day most families go out. Do you dislike song remixes? Yes. When was the last time you hula-hooped? January at Rita’s place, because they have a hula hoop. Have you ever played Magic: The Gathering? Nope. What are your thoughts on role playing games? Not a fan. But then again that’s me with most video games in general lol. Do you get an adrenaline rush just from watching videos of roller coasters? No, I get sick to my stomach and have to face away from the screen haha. Do you like watching shows that deal with forensics? If they’re documentaries, yes. But I don’t watch shows like Bones or CSI. Do you want to have a bachelor/bachelorette party before you get married? I’m whatever about it. If I have one or if my friends plan one for me, I wouldn’t want anything too wild. Ever been texted by mistake and played along & acted like you knew them? No, I tell them immediately it’s a wrong number so that they stop bothering me. Would you ever get a name tattooed on you? Initials, yes. Not a full name. If you could have unnatural colored eyes, what color(s) would you choose? Does green count? It’s unnatural in Filipino/Asian terms lol. It’d be nice to have olive eyes. Do you always remember your dreams? No. If I wanted to remember them, I’d have to log them down somewhere. Who is your favorite late night talk show host? Jimmy Fallon only because he keeps inviting Robert Irwin back on his show and he’s the best talk show guest ever. Do your parents dress like they're years younger? Does it gross you out? My dad does. It’s nothing to shame a parent about. Do you know who Seth MacFarlane is? Yes. Do you try on clothes in dressing rooms and take pictures? No. I feel weird about wearing something for fun and just returning it haha as a bit of a germaphobe. If I go inside a fitting room it has to be because I’m interested in possibly buying a piece of clothing. What is a band you can't stop listening to right now? Not really listening to bands these days. I have been listening to Hayley Williams a great deal, though.

[anhed-nia]

i just flaked out of the last session of a series of mycology classes that I signed up for this summer. this is extremely rare for me, as i typically torment myself with feelings of obligation that almost only amount to opportunities to feel bad about something. in this case, i also paid for the damn things, in an amount that turned out to be way more than they were worth. i had really high hopes for these classes; before i started my horticulture program, i was looking for opportunities to study mushrooms, but there didn’t seem to be anything in nyc besides a couple of social clubs. i follow a number of mycology organizations and farms online though, and i was thrilled when one of my favorites announced that they would be coming from upstate to teach a series of five classes in washington heights. during the introduction phase of our first class, i blithely declared that i was excited to do something that was more academic than just meetups with hobbyist groups. nobody disabused me of that idea, and they really should have.

washington heights is technically in manhattan, but for me it might as well be out of town. when the original schedule went out, it said we would meet in the afternoon, and i didn’t find out until shortly before the first session that we are actually starting at 10am. that got me up at ass o’clock to shower, gather my materials, and travel an hour and a half by train, bus, and kind of a long walk to get to the rec room of an apartment building where our first session. i realized i would be travelling a cumulative three hours for a three hour class, but i was still feeling pretty stoked. i didn’t develop a sense of dread until i got there, and saw that the room was empty except for the two organizers. they were playing reggae on a boombox and blazing a ton of nag champa, as one of them shuffled around the room barefoot waving a smudge stick around. i bit my proverbial tongue, trying to shelve my prejudices so they didn’t get in the way of the obviously awesome education i was about to get. a central coffee table was piled with all sorts of text books and dry specimens that i dove right into. i might have left right then, though, if i knew what i heard about an hour later, that they referred to this table as “the Altar.”

other people showed up as much as half an hour later, which annoyed me a little bit since i had woken up in the dark that morning to prepare for this. admittedly i don’t really understand the concept of fashionable lateness, but i felt like casually gouging 30 minutes out of a 3 hour paid event was kind of unfair. as it turned out, the instructor had failed to bring the equipment she needed for her powerpoint presentation, so we were delayed further while she tried and failed to scrounge up cables, and we missed out on visual aids and actual videos that probably would have been pretty useful. once we sat down and introduced ourselves, the second red flag popped up: a lot of the people in the room seemed to know each other. obviously that’s not bad in and of itself, but i could see what was happening. i was in the midst of a clique who were basically there to do what they would do under any other circumstances: listen to bad music, choke on incense, perform pseudo-spiritual rituals, and roll around on the floor. the difference between them and me, bigger than their intimacy and aesthetic values, was that i had paid [redacted] amount of money just to sit on the periphery of their fun hangout and listen to them sling rote revolutionary slogans and sociology jargon. some folks brought up important topics, like food sovereignty and mycoremediation, but we would never get deep enough into our topic to really address anything that interesting.

when it was my turn to talk, i realized that this was going to be an experience that i hadn’t really had since high school--my hair was wrong, my clothes were wrong, my speech was wrong, and i had been marked as a weirdo and an outsider. believe it or not, as an adult, i don’t much worry about what people might think about me, unless they force my awareness of it. i just figure i’m kind of different from a lot of people i encounter, and we can handle that with appropriate levels of polite distance. but, in the class, as the only person wearing black, and the only person in a collared shirt, and one of the only people who kept her shoes on and sat in a chair, it was impossible to ignore the discomfort people had with me. maybe it was also the fact that i failed to cite indigenous religions as part of my reason for being there, or to talk about “holding space” for healing or whatever. i actually went out of my way to be friendly and vocal, thinking i could alleviate some of the tension, but in some ways that seemed to make things worse. but i never thought i would have to worry about any of this; i mean call me crazy, but i really thought i was there to learn about fungi.

when the class finally started in earnest, my mistake became even clearer. A minor point of contention for me was the teacher’s casual snark toward the psychedelic community. i’m well aware of how bro-y that world can be, but i still thought it was kind of lame that she had to toss out barbs at drug nerds who refer to primordia as “pin sets” while doing a mean voice and rolling her eyes dramatically. maybe she felt like it was necessary to clarify that this would not be an entheogen-centric course, but she could have done better than to make fun of the way people talk. i say this because when she introduced scientific taxonomy basics, she mentioned “kingdom,” and pointedly followed it with the correction “OR QUEENDOM.” i can understand why we should challenge gendered vocabulary in non-gender-related areas, but it really made me feel like standing up and saying EXCUSE ME BUT YOU ARE USING VERY BINARY TERMS RIGHT NOW AND I WISH YOU WOULD ASSUME ACCOUNTABILITY FOR MAINTAINING A SAFE SPACE FOR EVERYONE. worse than that, when it came time to describe how substrate becomes inoculated with mycelium, she first used the correct mycological vocabulary, saying “the mycelium colonizes the soil”, and then added boldly, “BUT WE’RE NOT GOING TO USE THAT WORD.” this drove me absolutely insane. first of all, as with the kingdom/queendom distinction, she’s just making things confusing for people who are totally brand new to the topic and will absolutely need to know what the common contemporary terms are before they can make informed decisions about what kind of language they want to subscribe to later. secondly, this isn’t like the debate over reclaiming words like “queer”--”colony/colonization” is not a slur. it also doesn’t carry a moral connotation; even when we describe conquistadors colonizing central america, that doesn’t describe the inherent superiority of the spanish and inferiority of the indigenous peoples. colonization is the accepted description of a population of organisms taking over a certain area. i mean are we also working on changing the term ”ant colony” or even “artists’ colony”? is that a reasonable use of our collective political energy? and secondly, i agree that decolonizing thought is important. i remember the moment when, as an art history student, a professor taught us how to make a certain point by using the word “germinal” instead of “seminal”; i get the concept. but i don’t think that the problem of colonized thought is the use of the word “colonize” itself, and i don’t think that depriving us of the ability to describe colonization is going to help us identify and attack instances of...FUCKING COLONIZATION.

by the end of the first session...well, i couldn’t tell if it was the end exactly people had started milling around and snacking and talking about whatever, and considering our late start and just the general atmosphere of confusion, i wasn’t sure if i was supposed to wait for something else to happen. finally i just walked off, feeling pretty agitated. but, i clung to the idea that maybe further sessions would be of more value, that it was ok for the first class to consist of a bunch of shit i already knew as a result of casual interest, or could have easily looked up on wikipedia. future sessions were supposed to focus on field ID and foraging, and medicinal preparations and applications, among other things i’m ignorant of. i told myself that once the material became more stimulating, i would be naturally distracted from the dirty feet and elaborate yoga poses and insidery preaching-to-the-choir political language of my classmates, and would find myself engrossed finally in one of my favorite topics. probably i also just didn’t want to acknowledge how much money i had wasted.

what should have been the second class was postponed because the instructor’s van had broken down, which was totally understandable, although it kind of felt like par for the course considering the messiness of the previous session. unfortunately, it threw off the whole schedule, so we then wound up having two back to back days together, a regular saturday session, followed by an all-day foraging excursion that started earlier than usual and took place even further away than usual. i might as well have just gotten a hotel room up there for the weekend, but whatever, i sort of understood the risks when i signed up. the foraging session was what i was most looking forward to, and was the biggest disaster. i still hadn’t gotten the memo about how cool it was to show up as much as 45 minutes late, even for an event where we were supposed to meet up at a remote horse stable and then venture into the woods together. we didn’t get started until a least an hour, probably more after the 9am start. i’d been there since 8:50, and had to sit through an interminable playtime in which everybody did chakra-clearing breathing techniques and stretches, improv exercises and vocal warmups, and played some dumb hippy game where everybody tries to steal a stick from one another. my aforementioned sense of tortured obligation has caused me to submit to juvenile horrors like this in other circumstances, even though i thought adulthood was supposed to exempt me from this gym class bullshit, but i put my foot down this time, and sat about 25 feet away patiently waiting for the class to start, suffering some accusative glances.

the actual foraging we did was really fun, but being in the group was worse than ever. there was an excessive amount of anthropomorphizing going on, with all specimens described as “friends” that each student was encouraged to “meet” and “hang out with”, which resulted in a constant stream of high-pitched baby talk among us. i had been strongly warned against this anthropomorphizing mentality, both from a (fabulous, brilliant) druid-like arborist who taught my intro to botany class, and from the animal welfare community, all of whom correctly assert that projecting human needs and emotions onto non-human organisms is both delusional and actually dangerous for both people and the lifeforms around us...but whatever i guess. i had more immediate worries, because at some point, the baby talk gave way to improvised singing. it was brutally hot and dank in the woods, and the thrill of finding all kinds of different specimens was barely outweighed by the intense chagrin i felt as most of the group began stumbling through the creation of a hymn of gratitude to the mushrooms. sometimes we had to stop completely on the path so everyone could get in a circle and sing a round or three together. this was scheduled to be a 7 hour excursion, and by hour 3 i was seriously trying to work out at what point i would declare a family emergency or food poisoning and just run away.

part of the experience included a bit of a plant walk, led by one of the organizers who knew a lot about indigenous flora. this was sort of interesting in and of itself, and also relevant, since different mushrooms may grow on or near certain plants. but somehow, it still didn’t amount to a reasonable educational experience. half way through the hike, i noticed a classmate excitedly snatching up all the mugwort that she came across. she had been told by our guide about the many virtues of this “plant medicine”, a traditional cure-all for everything from epilepsy to PMS. what she hadn’t been told, evidently, is that mugwort is ferociously invasive, and practically impossible to get rid of. mugwort will choke out everything else around it, destroying the biodiversity that is necessary to support a healthy local ecology, losing us desirable plant life and starving out animal populations. i tried to tell her that she should be careful with that stuff, and avoid planting it in her yard if that was the fantasy, but she turned away irritably, clutching gnarled bundles of the sacred healer in her fists. it was a little thing, but somehow it really locked in the fact that i was in the wrong place. i hadn’t learned remotely as much new information about mushrooms as i should have in ~15 hours, and i had reason to believe that information we were getting could be less than reliable, or made unreliable by omission of other important facts. i had to get out of there. at some point we encountered a different mushroom group--a collection of appealing nerds in their 40s-60s called the Destroying Angels (after the deadly white amanita) who had accumulated a way cooler array of specimens than us, probably because they got started at a reasonable hour. i barely prevented myself from begging them to take me with them.

we returned to our spot near the parking lot two hours ahead of our scheduled conclusion, and as before, the situation devolved into a general hangout with no clear indication that the educational portion of the day was over. there were more songs and more games, and though i was coerced away from my boulder in the sun to join the group around their blanket, i managed to feign sleep long enough to get out of most of the activities. i was legitimately exhausted, at least.when i was thoroughly convinced that the lesson was over, i told everyone that i was too tired to continue and left, sparing myself an hour and a half of further agony.

ever since, i had been worrying about the final class. i absolutely wanted to learn about medicinal preparations and tinctures and home-growing techniques. but could it possibly be worth it? could i even be sure that the session would consist of more than what i had already learned from experience, and from unfairly maligned drug nerds on the internet? was i not too annoyed that the date of this class wasn’t even announced until four days ago, even though the class basically requires a day trip for more students than just me? by last night, the answers were perfectly clear. i let the group know that “something came up” without specifying, and bid them farewell, thanking them for their “inclusivity” among other things, which only i know is a joke. (at the end of the last i informed them all that i have ASD and don’t like to be touched, and i had the satisfying sense that they all realized that that was part of the reason i refused to join in their reindeer games) i’m vaguely concerned that i will have to deal with an annoyed instructor who literally owes me a bottle of tincture and growing materials as part of the price of the class, and who should really mail them to me now, but i can’t drag myself back to washington heights again just to avoid that nonsense. i don’t know what lesson i’m supposed to learn from this experience; maybe it’s enough to say that i don’t have to force myself to do everything i ever say i’m going to do, and also that in spite of the long way i have come from being an angry little punk poseur in college, i still hate hippies as much as ever. the end.

[regrettable-username]

Summary: The Good Hair Crew decides to start a podcast so they can catch up on each other's lives while Andi is at SAVA. Plus, Cyrus just really wanted to do it.

Each chapter is written as a transcript for one episode of their podcast! They will be discussing their lives as well as occasionally irl events/news, and bringing in some guests in the future!

______________________________

Buffy: Hello world!

Andi: Testing…is my mic working?

Cyrus: Yep! The bars right here move when it picks up your voice.

B: I told you we should’ve went over this before we started recording.

A: I just like to go with the flow.

C: Exactly! And no one got hurt.

B: (jokingly) Fine, whatever. Welcome to our podcast everyone!

C: You forgot to say the name. How will the listeners know what show this is?

B: I didn’t forget.

C: Fine, I’ll say it: Three’s A Crew!

B: We did not agree to that name.

A: It’s not that bad!

C: Buffy just gave Andi a disapproving look.

A: Cyrus, what are you doing?

C: I’m narrating our podcast for vision-impaired folks.

B: Cyrus, this is a podcast. Nobody can see what’s happening except us.

C: Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m narrating.

A: (laughing) Well…um, okay, we should probably get to the start of this podcast.

C: Yes.

A: So we’re all in my room right now, with a bunch of audio equipment that Cyrus begged his parents to buy for one big reason.

B: Andi is going to Shadyside Academy for Visual Arts—

A: (dramatically) —SAVA—

B:—yeah, SAVA, this fall, so she won’t be joining Cyrus and me in high school.

C: So I had the great idea of starting a podcast!

B: If you’re listening, you either know us personally or you just happened to come across this on SoundCloud somehow.

C: Either way, we love that you’re here.

A: Anyway, this podcast is going to run in sort of a loose format. Since there are three of us hosting, we will each choose a topic to talk about for about a third of the time. It can be a current event in the news, something going on in our lives, or just a topic that we’ve been thinking about a lot lately and want to talk about.

B: So we did a rock paper scissors competition to see who would go first this week.

C: I won!!

B: Rock Paper Scissors is the only type of physical competition he’s can do without injuring himself.

C: It’s true. The school nurse can testify for me.

A: Alright, well maybe that can be a topic for another day. What have you got for us to talk about today, Cyrus?

C: Alright, get ready for it…(beat) FLAMINGOS!

A & B, in unison: Flamingos?

C: What up, I’m Cyrus, I’m 15, and I’m heckin’ afraid of flamingos!

A: Did you just make a vine reference?

B: I’m surprised you didn’t just want to make a group Tik Tok instead of a podcast.

C: I did consider it, because that would showcase the incredible hair of the Good Hair rew. But I wanted to be an active voice and not just behind the camera.

A: I’m proud of you, Cyrus.

C: Aww, thanks Andi. But you might want to hold off on that until after we talk about my fear of flamingos.

B: Yeah, so, when did this even start?

C: So basically, you know how you go to the zoo in first grade with the class and you do a little animal fact scavenger hunt thing with your chaperone group? Approximately halfway through that.

A: What happened?

C: I am soglad you asked. I’m just minding my own business, filling out my scavenger hunt worksheet, and we’re just getting to the flamingo exhibit. So I read the next question on the sheet, and it just wants you to list one fact about flamingos. Seems innocent, right? So I go up to the information board for the flamingos, and I read it to find something interesting. But instead I find out that flamingos get their pink color because they eat so much shrimp!

B: What?

A: Huh?

C: So I start thinking, what if I eat too much shrimp? Will I turn pink too? What if I eat too much of one specific type of food? What if I eat too many blueberries and become Violet-freakin-Beauregard?

A: That doesn’t sound like a fear of flamingos in particular though, just fear of changing color based on your food I guess?

C: There’s more. So while little six year old me is having a full-blown crisis, a flamingo walks right up to me on the other side of the fence and does the leg thing. You know, where they put their leg all the way inside their feathers? It was practically going into attack mode. Who knows what it was getting ready to do. Swing it’s leg out to kick me in the face? Grab a knife it was hiding under its feathers to kill me? Showing off its clear ability to do anything that requires remotely good balance? That flamingo was out to get me, and I’ve been afraid of flamingos ever since.

[long pause]

A: Uh…

B: Don’t you have four parents that are all psychologists? Why are you bringing this up to us?

C: Because I already know it’s irrational. I just wanted to get it out and hear your honest thoughts about flamingos.

B: Okay…I guess. But my thoughts are just really that I’m not afraid of them?

C: You’re not afraid of anything.

A: Everyone’s afraid of something.

B: Except me. I’m fearless.

C: Maybe we should make a trade.

B: I get to be afraid of flamingos and you get to walk through the theater department scene shop without jumping away from all the ladders?

C: Hey, not walking under ladders is a safety issue and not just a petty superstition.

A: Maybe we should get back to the topic at hand.

C: Of course. So Andi: thoughts on flamingos?

A: Personally I like flamingos. They just seem so graceful and beautiful. And have you ever seen those pictures where they put their heads together and their necks for a heart? Ooh, I just got an idea for an art project!

C: You're going to project my deepest fears into your art?

A: Pretty much.

C: You know what, that might actually help.

A: Buffy, can we say it?

B: Are you okay with it just this once, Cyrus?

C: Go ahead, ladies.

A & B, in unison: Just another service we provide.

A: Hell yeah!

B: Now do you see how satisfying it is?

A: I feel like I understand the universe now.

C: For our listeners who need some context, “just another service we provide” is something Buffy and I say together when we help Andi with one of her problems. We started doing it a few years ago. Now she finally got to return the favor.

A: To be fair, I’ve had a lot of stuff.

C: Speaking of which, what would you like to talk about today Andi?

A: Thanks for asking Cyrus. So I just got the school supply list for SAVA, and it’s majorly freaking me out. It doesn’t start for a few more weeks but I’m already feeling overwhelmed.

C: Why is that?

A: It’s just…y’know, looking through the list is so intimidating. Name brand oil paints. Charcoal. Shading pencils. Four different types of erasers. And that’s just the stuff we need to buy on our own for outside of class. I got into SAVA with just paper cranes, friendship bracelets, and trash turned into an art piece. I don’t know how to use any of this high-brow stuff. And why does everything have to be new? Why can’t I just recycle something?

B: They probably just want to teach you the basics in a lot of different art forms so that you can build from there, find a specialty, or even combine them.

C: Buffy’s right. And how do you know you can’t use anything recycled? You don’t even know what your assignments are yet.

A: I just feel like I’m not even there yet but they’re already trying to weed me out. I thought I wanted to go to SAVA more than anything, but now I don’t know. If I was good enough to get in on my own, why can’t I just keep up with what I was doing and become an artist that way?

C: What you’re feeling is called imposter syndrome. You think that you don’t belong, that you’re not good enough. But remember that they choseyou. They saw your potential and wanted to help you thrive as an artist.

A: But all of this fancy art stuff isn’t what I applied with. It’s like they’re trying to change me to fit their idea of what an artist should be.

B: Andi, you haven’t even started classes there yet. Learning all these things will just give you new tools to make your own art with. And if any of those snooty art teachers try to tell you that your art doesn’t line up with their ‘brand’ or whatever, I’ll personally march into SAVA and fight every single one of them.

C: And I will support you both with snacks and first aid supplies from a safe distance.

A: (laughing) Thanks. I guess it’s just hard not to doubt myself when I know that I’ll stick out like a sore thumb just because of my art style. But I’ve already stuck out as the weird girl, the quiet girl, the Asian-stereotype girl, you name it. I can handle it.

C: And now you’ll be known as the artist, the environmentalist, and the change-maker.

B: Those seem like much better labels to live by.

A: You’re right. Well, if I’m not dropping out of SAVA before the start of the school year, then I should probably prepare my parents for when they find out how much cash they have to drop on art supplies.

B: Maybe we should make some cookies when we’re done recording.

A: Good call.

C: Speaking of recording, we have just enough time left for Buffy to tell us about her topic for this week.

B: I’m actually really glad I get to talk about this, because I wasn’t sure if Andi would actually bring it up or not and I didn’t have a backup plan.

A: Really? What is it?

B: I want to talk about the fires in the Amazon.

A: You’re right, that’s an important topic.

C: I’ve heard a lot about them on social media. What do you want to talk about?

B: I guess just…everything? I can’t believe that it’s happening but at the same time it feels almost too real. It’s completely dystopian and yet it fits in with everything else happening in the world.

C: That’s a really valid feeling.

B: Did you hear that the fires were intentional too? I just thought they were regular forest fires at first. They were set to clear the land and get rid of Indigenous peoples. I can’t believe that people are so greedy. It’s absolutely evil.

A: I wish we could just raid a dumpster like we did with Mint Chip. How are we supposed to do anything from halfway across the world?

B: You? You could do anything, Andi. You can create an art piece and auction it off, and donate everything to the Amazon frontlines. What am I supposed to do? I can’t just play basketball and save the world.

C: Why not?

B: Is that supposed to be a serious question?

C: I mean, it’s not such a crazy idea. You could do a charity basketball game, or even a tournament. Any money you make from tickets and concessions could be donated.

B: Don’t you need a ton of planning for that though? I don’t know how long I have to do something before these fires go past the tipping point.

C: You won’t know unless you try.

A: He’s right, Buffy. Basketball is something you really good at, but you’re even better at organizing people and making things happen. A charity event would be incredible.

B: I’m just worried that I’ll be too cocky and take on more than I can handle. It happened already with the track team, the basketball team, and when I tried to run that marathon. I’ve never done something this big and I don’t want it to be a disaster.

A: Well luckily for you, you’ve already got two amazing people to help you every step of the way.

C: And as a professional disaster myself, I think I know enough to help minimize the casualties.

B: I guess we’re doing it then. [pause] I guess I really didn’t expect that conversation to end on an exciting note.

A: Considering everything that’s happening, I think we could all use some excitement.

C: And can I just say that I think this first episode of our podcast was very exciting!

B: It was a lot more fun than I expected it to be. I mean it’s just talking into microphones on Andi’s bed, and yet it’s…cathartic? Is that the right word?

C: Yeah, it fits.

A: Considering that we had no idea what we were doing, I think we rocked it.

C: Speak for yourself. As someone who spent the last week outlining exactly what I was going to talk about, I think I absolutely heckin’ killed it.

B: We’re still saying “heck,” huh?

C: We have no idea who our audience is going to be. What if my parents hear me swearing?

A: I think they’ll be more interested in the whole flamingo thing.

C: Cookies? Didn’t someone say we were gonna make cookies after recording?

B: Buffy rolls her eyes at Cyrus.

C: I thought you didn’t like the narration.

B: I wouldn’t call it narration. Considering at least half our audience probably just rolled their eyes too, it’s more like...audience interaction.

A: Cyrus is right though, we should be wrapping up. Bowie wants to start dinner by 7.

B: Is that it already? It feels like we barely got started.

C: We can try starting early next week and going a bit longer.

B: What do you think, Andi?

A: I don’t really have a preference. Whatever decision you come up with is fine, just do it quick so I can go and shove pasta in my face before it gets cold.

B: Let's talk about this over dinner then.

C: You dad didn’t make cauliflower taters again did he? As much as I love him, I just can’t get behind those baby tater frauds.

A: Nah, I think it’s real veggies on the side tonight.

C: Thank god. I’m fine with eating healthy, I want to eat healthy, I just need healthy food to be upfront.

B: Alright, well I guess this is the end of our show then. See you next week!

A: I hope you enjoyed the first episode!

C: Remember to subscribe and rate our podcast! It really helps get ourselves out there and noticed by other listeners. And if you have any comments, suggestions, or just want to chat, we have the twitter handle listed in our description. And—

A & B, in unison: —Cyrus!

C: Okay, fine. Thanks for listening!

#andi mack #buffy driscoll #cyrus goodman

[imaginedanganronpa]

the dr2 one where the s/o said their first name was SO CUTE and i NEED one for the v3 boys plssssh! i know it was a long time ago but i just saw it :>

I left Kiibo out for obvious reasons, hope you like it!

The SDR2 Version is HERE! Like last time, (F/N) = First Name.

V3 Boys’ S/O Saying Their First Name For The First Time!

Saihara Shuichi

It happened one evening during once of your beloved binge-watchingsessions. That was one of your favorite things to do – just snuggle up and havea marathon together.

He got you into one of his crime shows, of course. He liked solving them as youwatched despite knowing that they were fiction.

It was Winter, far too cold to go outside so you to decide to just cuddle with a pileof blankets on top of you two, bodies pressed firmly together on the love-seat.

You could lose yourself in the intimacy.

He was so used to his last name because it was professional and that’s howeveryone he worked with addressed him.

It was pretty early on in your relationship and you hadn’t felt like youreached that base yet, but you yearned to get that comfortable with one another. 

Sure, you thought about moving forward but you didn’t want to rush things or make him uncomfortable.

He was listing off all the possible suspects and marking them off as he went.You loved listening to him work, you could tell how invested he got and howpassionate he was about solving crimes. 

It was so fascinating. You couldn’t even imagine being that smart.

“You’re so intelligent, Shuichi~” You’re cooing and running your hands throughhis hair. 

He becomes silent and you begin to worry. What was wrong? You hadn’t evenrealized that it slipped out until it was too late and you immediately bite yourtongue.

His cheeks were bright red and now yours were turning as well. Before you couldsay anything, he cut you off with a big, wide grin on his face.

“Don’t apologize, I like it. I’ve been meaning to call you (F/N)… I just didn’twant to move too fast.”

Now you’re really blushing and giggling like mad. Good thing Saihara loved the sound of your giggles.

Ouma Kokichi

He’s the type to ask you to refer him formally because‘He’s a Supreme Leader and should be addressed as such!’

However, you didn’t really like it. He was your boyfriend, not your boss, and you didn’t want his power or influence to completely go to his head. You still wanted him to treat you like his partner.

You understood that it was a comfort thing for him and what he’s used to, butyou’re not a member of his little ‘gang,’ you’re his significant other!

However, Ouma was stubborn and you didn’t want to step over a boundary. You’d ratherwait until your relationship got more serious than make him uncomfortable and potentially ruin it.

It happened one night while you two were getting ready for bed and he wastaking an unusually long amount of time to get ready.

He was usually tucked in before you were and you have been waiting on him for awhile now. You were exhausted, ready to sleep, but didn’t want to without him by your side.

“What’s taking you so long? Come cuddle Kokichi!”

You had a playful tone in your voice but he didn’t pick up on it. He heard youcall for him from the bathroom and responded with “What did you call me?”

Repeating yourself, he waltzed into the room looking a bit perplexed. “I am aLeader!” He stomps his foot like a little child.

You chuckled a bit, not fazed, and rolled your eyes instead. He startedlaughing before slipping under the covers beside you. 

Ouma got a bit of a power-trip when you used his first name and it sent chillsdown his spine. He actually thought it was super sexy and attractive coming from you.

“But you get a pass,” he hesitated for a moment and wraps his arm around you,“and you’re the only one who gets to call me that. Stays between us!”

Giving in, you finally agree and he switches the light off. It seems as though Ouma had different plans that didn’t involve sleeping. “You know, there’s other names you can call me…” He winks with a naughty tonebefore embracing you in a long kiss.

Rantaro Amami

He never established what he’d like to be called, but youtwo had playful and romantic nicknames for each other from the start of yourrelationship so you had the tendency to never stray too far from those.

Even in the honeymoon phase before you two became ‘official’, he was always flirting with you and calling you‘Babe’ or ‘Honey’ rather than your actual name.

Whenever he did use your first name, it came as a little surprise so yourefrained from doing the same to him.

Plus, he enjoyed the nicknames you gave him and never really asked for otherwise.

You were walking down the streets of Japan with nothing better to do. You twospent the day walking in and out of different shops, just browsing. Searchingfor nothing in particular.

It was one of your spontaneous adventures that Rantaro loved so much.

Typically, you two kept the same pace and walked hand-in-hand, gazing aroundand dipping into all kinds of buildings. One in particular caught your eye though, and you started to take the lead and pull away.

Still firmly grasping your hand, he struggled to keep your pace as you pulledhim along. 

“Look at this one, Rantaro!” You excitedly exclaim.

He stops in his tracks which causes you to stumbled back. Thankfully, he caughtyou in his arms as you leaned against his chest and looked up at him.

“Did I do something wrong?”

He shakes his head and smirks with a smug expression. “I like that, love… or should I call you (F/N)?”

Even when he was surprised, he kept the same calm, coolness to him. He wasrelatively hard to surprise as well, but he liked hearing his name come fromyour voice.

You smile, feeling relieved, and then peck his lips. He wraps his hand in yourhair to further the kiss. Once you pull away, he’s grinning. “Call me that moreoften.”

Kaito Momota

In this relationship, he’ll keep you on your toes. Kaito has a firey personality and wants to pass that passion onto you. He mayseem bold and tough, but he’s a sucker for cliché nicknames.

Whenever you called him by one, he melts inside. 

He’s also not going to let you feel unmotivated or moved and will press you tobe the ‘Best you that you can be!’

Kaito convinces you to be his workout partner and will always motivate you. Itstarted with you just helping him with his sessions but you ended up with aroutine as well, with a lot of coaxing from your boyfriend.

“Come on, you can do this!” He continued to cheer. Though you’re not sure you really believe him, you give it your all and Kaitobecomes your number one supporter. 

He had a weird habit of wanting to work out in the middle of the night and dragging you out of bed wasn’t necessarily ideal. But you do it anyway becauseyou love him.

Kaito shakes you awake in the middle of the night, placing kisses on your neckuntil it gets your attention. You stir awake and look at him throughhalf-sleepy eyes.

“Come on, babe! It’s that time again.” His voice is loud and booming; youwonder how anyone has this much energy in the middle of the night. 

You try putting a pillow over your head and rolling back over but he isn’tgoing to let you off the hook that easily. 

He shakes your shoulders again, growing more antsy as time passed. Eventually,you can’t take it anymore. 

“No~ not tonight, Kaito. I need my beauty sleep,” you mumble.

He retracts his hand from your shoulder and goes silent. You peek at him fromunder the pillow and see a wide, toothy grin and childlike expression on hisface. Still dazed and half-asleep, you didn’t even realize what you had said.

It was still the start of your relationship so neither of you thought you wereat that point yet. But alas, he engulfs you in one giant hug and slips into bedbeside you.

“I guess I’ll let you have a pass… this time.” His voice is playful and hespends the rest of the night holding you as you fall back asleep peacefully inhis arm.

Korekiyo Shinguuji

He’s a pretty formal person so formal names are commonplace.He also thinks that the way you say his name is very sexy.

There was an unspoken rule between you two. Korekiyo doesn’t have a whole lotof relationship experience so he’s not entirely sure when to take you two tothe next level. 

It was still early on so things weren’t that serious yet.

One of your favorite things was listening to him talk about culture and hisstudies. You could easily tell how interested and passionate he was and youloved watching him light up and go on tangents.

You’d be relaxing and just listen to him talk. His voice was so smooth andcalming that you could take a nap just listening to him. It was soothing andmade you feel at home.

He was talking about his favorite indigenous groups and how they should reallybe protected and preserved by modern-day civilization. Typically, that’s atopic that you’d find a bit boring, but Korekiyo made it sound so intriguing. 

You were laying across his body with your head in his lap, meanwhile he was inan upright position. One of his hands was holding his book and the other wasstroking your hair.

Gazing up at him lovingly, a thought pops in your mind. “You are sointelligent, Korekiyo.”

He stopped speaking and pulled his mask back up to hide his face, mainlybecause he was blushing. His eyes fluttered close but his fingers remainedentangled in your hair. It didn’t fully register in your mind until you saidit, and you didn’t mean to – it was supposed to just stay in your head.

“I mean it.” You try covering it up, and it was rather cute when he gotflustered.

Korekiyo pulls his mask back down to reveal a wide grin. “Thank you, (Y/N).”His beautiful eyes lock with yours.

He gently sits you up in his lap and passionately kisses you. “I’m so glad Ihave someone like you.”

Nodding in agreement, you peck his lips one last time. It felt good to finallybe able to let your feelings out.

Gonta Gokuhara

He never really understood the whole ‘formal and informal’name thing, but from what he did know – it was a big deal.

You can’t blame him. His past and such did alter his perception of what he seesas ‘the real world.’

But you still used his surname since it’s what you’re used to and what you grewup around. He never seemed to mind and hardly noticed it. Although, he doesrefer to both you and himself by first name so he sometimes looks at youquizzically. 

One day, he was trying to convince you to open up around his insects. However,you weren’t so receptive. 

You loved Gonta to death but the bugs kind of crossed a line. You could dealwith some of the smaller ones with time, slowly getting used to the littleladybugs and such.

But the much… much larger spiders and cockroaches were a bit over the top.

Your boyfriend loved them and he wanted to be able to share his passion withyou, but you politely declined repeatedly. 

He approached you with his hands behind his back. You were sitting at thekitchen counter with your nose in your phone when you caught him in the cornerof your eye. 

Turning towards him with a bright smile, he leaned forward and kissed your lipssoftly. Then, Gonta announces “I have a surprise for (Y/N)!”

Not entirely knowing what to expect, you hope for the best and nod your head.Gonta proceeds to pull his hands out from behind his back and extend them towards you, so that they were mere inches from your face.

In his palms sat two fat hissing cockroaches. 

You weren’t ready at all, leaping back and stumbling out of the chair whilst ascream escaped your lips. “Gonta don’t do that, please!”

His face seems hurt momentarily but is replaced with a smile. “You say… ‘Gonta’?That’s a good thing, right (Y/N)?” 

It didn’t even occur to you what you said and a fit of nervous laughter camefrom your mouth. “That mean you like Gonta’s new friends?” He continues warmly.

“No thank you… Gonta.” You politely decline the offer but your face still has abright red blush, from both anxiety from the insects and embarrassment fromcalling him by his name.

Ryoma Hoshi

He’s a man who respects honor and tradition. Calling each other by your informal first name is a big step for him.

To Ryoma, it’s a commitment thing. He’s never been that comfortable withsomeone before, at least not a romantic partner, so he’s very hesitant atfirst.

He’s a bit more open to nicknames, in fact. He’s classy and old-school so hesticks with ‘Beautiful/Handsome’ and ‘Love’ for the most part.

You two enjoyed having deep and meaningful conversations about everything therewas talk about. It didn’t matter – love, the future, the universe, sex, yourpasts. Nothing was off limits. You loved the sound of one another’s voice andhearing your deepest thoughts.

He’s slipped and had to bite his tongue a few times in the past because he’sjust so used to you. It feels like he’s known you forever. 

But he’s just not sure he’s at that point.

The act he puts on about him being some stone-cold, disheartened killercrumbles whenever you’re around and he can finally be his true self.

You two had been in a deep conversation about love and your relationship. Ittook him a while to just get comfortable enough with that ‘L’ word and up untilthis point, neither of you had said that, either. 

But he was confident with his feelings and didn’t want to hold back anymore.

“I love you.” His voice is smooth and melodic. You turn to look at him, but hisface is shifted away and his eyes are pointed downwards, almost as if he’s toonervous to look at you. That’s the first time he’s said that to any of his partners.

“I love you too, Ryoma.”

His face is stiff for a moment. You never break away from looking at him, andhe turns his face back towards you. You’re now inches apart and he genuinely,seriously smiles for what feels like the first time in a while.

In this moment, he couldn’t be happier.

- Mod Rantaro

#danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #anime #danganronpa v3 #killing harmony #ndrv3 #ndrv3 imagines #shuichi saihara #saihara shuichi #ouma kokichi #kokichi ouma #amami rantarou #rantaro amami #korekiyo shinguuji #kaito momota #gonta gokuhara #ryoma hoshi

[kataibusaibiin]

Offering our voices to honor our ancestors

Protecting What is Sacred: Our land, Our water, Our hope for a better future 

 I preface this with an apology because these thoughts were scribbled in the wee hours of the morning when I couldn’t sleep and thus this lacks the clarity I’d hoped for in sharing some of what’s been weighing so heavily on my heart. That said, some folks have nudged me to share some of these reflections and it felt important to start somewhere in voicing how my heart connects these dots. So, below are some meandering thoughts as I reflect on Obon and how it threads us together with our past, present, and future... and ultimately each other...

In less than a month, I will be returning again to my place of birth - my maternal ancestral homeland in Okinawa - to visit with family and friends and to pay my respects to those who came before us.  It’s been 2 years since my last visit and it will be the first time I am able to speak to my beloved grandmother in Uchinaaguchi -  one of Ryukyu/Okinawa’s indigenous languages which I’ve been studying - to thank her and share with her my ongoing studies here in Hawai’i as I continue working to record our family’s stories, deepen my appreciation and understanding of our indigenous Ryukyuan history and culture, and create resources to share with fellow Uchinaanchu/Okinawans living in the diaspora across the globe. My grandmother is 96 now and has been my trusty compass since as far back as I can remember - back to my earliest childhood memories in Okinawa. Her visits to see us once we moved to North Carolina are highlights of my youth. Even when we moved to the states and we were thousands of miles apart, I could still always feel her love and would sometimes look out across the ocean in the direction of Okinawa, trying to picture her and the rest of the family there, hoping that I too could cultivate the kind of love she shares which could be felt across time and space.

It is not coincidental that my upcoming trip to Okinawa next month was planned to coincide with Obon and, as such, will involve returning to my grandmother’s village in Kijoka, Ogimi where some of our family tombs (ohaka) are located. I have yet to find the words to express what it means to me to be able to revisit the same land where generations of my family have lived and where we continue to return, year after year, to offer prayers and gratitude for our village, our ancestors, and all the sacrifices they have made for us. It is something to treasure all the more since there are many who are unable to do so, especially since I know many in Okinawa whose family tombs were destroyed during WWII or were paved over for US military bases under US occupation in the aftermath of the war.

I remember before taking that trip back to Okinawa two years ago, my mom had told me on a number of occasions that visiting our family tombs to pay respects was something she had always wanted us to be able to do together. I was never able to line up the time and resources to return for Shimi but she’d made clear that the timing wasn’t even what was important - just that we made the time.  And I vividly remember when I finally had the opportunity to join my family to do so as an adult during that trip, time seemed to collapse onto itself. I could feel an overwhelming connection to the past, present, and future as a continuum extending well beyond the 5 generations of our family represented in the gathering that day.

One of my young nieces and I tidied up the area and altar together as other family prepared the offerings we brought.  As we did so, I recall my grandmother commenting how happy the rest of the family (meaning our ancestors) must be to see my niece Sawana and I there together, putting such love and attention to detail in cleaning and helping with preparations. Hearing this as a gentle breeze passed, it certainly didn’t feel like we were alone. After our prayers and offerings, we found a nearby spot to enjoy our family picnic. Sitting in a circle, I looked around at my family with the sweeping views of the ocean behind them and my eyes welled up with tears of joy as I laughed and we talked story, savoring the beauty of that moment and seeing it similarly reflected on their faces. As I think back on such moments, my hope is that each day, I find a way through actions to express how much I cherish these gifts of love, tradition, and hope for a better future that have been and continue to be passed forward through my family and communities.

As many of you know, my return to Okinawa two years ago was something I was apprehensive about in many ways - despite longing to return since I was little - and I am beyond grateful that it was ultimately a deeply healing and transformational experience. During this trip in August, I plan to return to Shuri were my grandfather’s family is from and offer prayers and gratitude for my grandfather’s family at their hakas too, in hopes of contributing towards intergenerational healing within my family. After all, the history and stories of my grandfather’s family are part of what motivates me to do some small part to preserve Uchinaaguchi and not only Ryukyu/Okinawa’s history and culture but also our family’s legacy as part of that living history.  (Some of you already know why I’ve not grown up close to that branch of our family but for others, suffice to say my grandmother is a strong, fiercely loving woman who would always stand up for what is best for her children...no matter the self-sacrifice involved.) I mention this because history is never clean - often filled with pain, conflict, and contradictions - but we shouldn’t shy away from certain parts of our past because of that; those parts shape(d) us too and can be part of how we learn, heal, and ultimately reclaim our futures.  This is true even of my father’s side of the family - direct descendants of both Reverend John Robinson “Pastor of the Pilgrims” who sent his congregation over on the Mayflower as well as the Mississippi band of Choctaw who were nearly wiped out by the arrival of these European immigrants. I often think about how to hold these complicated truths and seeming contradictions of our past and/or different perspectives and the importance of doing so even as we face such situations in the present...

To Honor My Ancestors Is to Honor All Our Ancestors

Here in Hawai’i, Obon festivities have already begun as there are literally bon dances held every weekend from mid June through August. To write about some of my experiences and reflections thus far (including the way Obon is celebrated here versus back in Okinawa) is a topic for another time. I share this as context though because as a member of the Young Okinawans of Hawai’i (YOH), we share our song, drumming, and dance as offerings to our ancestors and to communicate with them, just as Okinawan eisaa was traditionally intended for. It is not entertainment for the crowd that gathers but, if anything, an invitation for the community to join us in this collective offering for all our ancestors. Whether it’s the little ones that find their way towards the inner circle around the yagura to dance by our side during our bon dances or the young ones in my family and communities, I hope that any child I ever interact with can feel and cherish the gifts of our uyafaafuji (ancestors) and learn to manifest that gratitude with their voices and in their actions, guided by what’s in their hearts. I do not take lightly the moments like this weekend when a group of little kids surrounded me and looked up wided-eyed and open-hearted, eager to watch and follow in my footsteps as we sang and danced around the yagura together. When I heard one of the littlest ones next to me begin to join me as we called out with our heishi, I’m not ashamed to admit I got a little something in my eyes.

In sharing the history and meaning of Okinawan eisaa and inviting friends to join us for Bon dancing, I have found myself often clarifying for folks that when I say I dance and sing for “our ancestors” I am referring collectively to the people we are tied to through our connection to place as well as our families of origin which we are connected to through blood and other familial connections. So, when I sing and dance here in Hawai’i, I too sing for the kanaka maoli - the indigenous Hawai’ians and the Kingdom of Hawai’i. I am aware that in moving here to study and build community with the Asian plurality and fellow Uchinaanchu here, I am also a settler. So, I strive to listen and learn from not only the elders I meet but also to their ancestors who sought to protect this land and its precious resources.  That comes with inherent responsibilities to listen, learn, and take heart when I am asked to speak out as someone whose ancestral homelands were similarly colonized, whose people also endured physical and cultural genocide, and whose democratic voice and right to self-determination is still being ignored. As shimanchu whose past have so many parallels, I believe our hopes for a better future and collective liberation are also bound together. So too, I feel a deep responsibility as someone raised in the US and with the relative privilege that comes with that, even when so many Americans have made it clear that they will always see me as an outsider. It is all too clear to me how these things are all interconnected.

So, this weekend, I danced not only for my ancestors back in Kijoko but also for those in Henoko, Okinawa where my parents met and for the community there who have been dedicated to protecting our one ocean in the face of joint US-Japanese military construction in Oura Bay. My heart also joined the protectors here in Hawai’i who have been gathering at Mauna kea to prevent the desecration of that sacred land. I lit candles and held in my heart the memory of my paternal grandparents and their families. My heart too, also sang out for the children who are locked up in cages across the US for the crime of having a family who dreams of a better future for them but come from another side of an imaginary line.  I carried in my heart - the heart of a first-generation immigrant to the US - all the families of refugees, asylum seekers, and immigrants who are dreaming for a brighter future.

I might not have all the answers for how to re-envision the future to be a better one for all, but I’ve seen enough to know one thing we have to do is speak out to say that this current path we’re on sure isn’t the way. 

To honor my ancestors is to honor the preciousness of all life. Nuchi du takara. So, to honor all my ancestors, I offer my voice to honor the ancestors of all of us - to acknowledge our interconnectedness - and to share our ancestors hopes of a better future for us all. In sharing my voice as an offering, I also extend an invitation: Let us never give up the hopes and dreams of our ancestors. Instead, let that be what unites us as we protect what is sacred. 

Rise for Henoko! Aole TMT! Protect Our One Ocean! Kū Kia`i Mauna!  Never Again is Now!  Together, We Rise!

p.s. I recently shared this music video but felt it was apropos to share this song again here with a gentle request to take the few minutes to watch and reflect:

#NuchiDuTakara #AlohaAina #RiseForHenoko #AoleTMT #KuKiaiMauna #ProtectOurOceans #ProtectMaunaKea #ProtectWhatIsSacred #NeverAgainIsNow #OurCollectiveLiberationIsBoundTogether #TogetherWeRise #Uchinaanchu #Obon #bon dance #Bon udui #eisaa #ancestors #hope #shimanchu #GovernorIgeDoesntSpeakForAllOkinawans #Ryukyu #Kijoka #Henoko #indigenous #indigenousrising #AllyIsAVerb

[turningpagebooks]

ARC REVIEW: “Our Stories, Our Voices” edited by Amy Reed

Title: Our Stories, Our Voices: 21 YA Authors Get Real About Injustice, Empowerment, and Growing Up Female in America Editor: Amy Reed Genre: Nonfiction Anthology, Feminism Publisher: Simon Pulse Publication Date: August 14th, 2018 Source: Publisher Format: Hardcover Page count: 320

Plot summary: From Amy Reed, Ellen Hopkins, Amber Smith, Sandhya Menon, and more of your favorite YA authors comes an anthology of essays that explore the diverse experiences of injustice, empowerment, and growing up female in America. This collection of twenty-one essays from major YA authors—including award-winning and bestselling writers—touches on a powerful range of topics related to growing up female in today’s America, and the intersection with race, religion, and ethnicity. Sure to inspire hope and solidarity to anyone who reads it, Our Stories, Our Voices belongs on every young woman’s shelf.

Our Stories, Our Voices on Goodreads | Chapters Indigo | Amazon CA ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I received a finished copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

Our Stories, Our Voices is a powerful anthology of stories about racism and intersectional feminism.

Feminist books are my jam. They're important, always relevant, and educational. Equality is so important. I find that reading feminist books, particularly non-fiction, makes you grow as a person. It's that kind of fuel that can change a person, and therefore change the world.

Sometimes I struggle with anthologies, because often I only enjoy maybe half of the stories and force myself to finish the rest. There were very, very few stories I didn't enjoy in this collection which is a pretty big deal. I didn't really enjoy Ellen Hopkin's story, because it didn't feel as impactful as the others. I also took issue with Ilene (I.W.) Gregorio's story, because she uses the phrase "strong women" as though being bold, daring, and very physically strong is better. I find that phrase to be so harmful. I use to use it myself, until I realized that it's problematic. There are many ways to be strong, and I think that phrase ignores that fact. It seemed like this story talked about the best way to be a girl, which is judgemental rather than recognizes you can be whatever you want to be.

The stories that I loved shed light on what it is to be a person of colour, LGBTQIA, and a woman. It shed light on rape culture and victims, on the way women are objectified, on racism, hate, misogyny. It lifted women up, expressed hopes and fears. It urges us to be vocal and create change. To band together. It talks about what the presidential election meant from various perspectives. It talked about how some feminists believe you have to reject traditionally 'feminine' things like makeup and fashion. All of these are fascinating and important topics. I was hooked to every page of these stories.

Some of my fave stories are "My Immigrant American Dream" by Sandhya Menon, "Finding My Feminism" by Amy Reed, "Unexpected Pursuits: Embracing My Indigeneity & Creativity" by Christine Day, and "Trumps and Trunchbulls" by Alexandra Duncan (though I loved many more than just these).

It was interesting to see the different perspectives, based on personal experiences and culture.

Our Stories, Our Voices is a must-read. It's full of angering and empowering and educational stories by women from all walks of life. I truly value their voices, and I think everyone needs to read this book.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

QUOTES:

"But there's plenty more to be done. And it's up to us to do it. We have to raise our voices and create the change we want to see." (p. 61)

"But we should be able to own our femininity, if that's our choice, without risk and without reprise. And fear of, or atual, objectification should never be a reason to hide our truest selves." (p. 69)

"We can't know exactly what other people's pain is like, but we can listen and believe them when they say it hurts. We can try to stop whatever is causing it." (p. 100)

"All girls are as distinct as individual stars in the sky. All girls are also part of the universe's infinite pattern. How wonderful, to be just like all the other girls in this way. How wonderful to be part of this vast and dazzling existence." (p. 237)

#personal #turningpagebooks #our stories our voices #amy reed #sandhya menon #christine day #alexandra duncan #arc review #book review #review #4 stars #2018 book review #simonschuster #book reviews #novel review #novel reviews #books #book #novelas #novel #reading #read

[percentmagazine]

What does culture mean? And some other current cultural happenings, as per our 2020, evidently.

Creative people see the world in various ways, on top of it in this modern day and age things change super fast. That makes ideas and opinions drift all over the place, conflicts drive opposite directions and as it most commonly happens, they all part ways very quickly and evaporate, while replaced by next new big thing ideas. Obviously we are all chasing a positive and optimistic change, but change is a team sport, and it is a good old culture that holds us together.

So what is it? How does culture evolve forward and happen to be?

Welcome to our Omni Culture Club (OCC).

The more I look around and analyse the more I believe in a younger generation. I remember myself all young and all liberal, art student in Paris, France. Now omg, I am a stiff conservative, such a disappointment, I need to loosen up, look around with eyes open wide. I understand that nostalgia is sweet and nice, but the time goes forward, and it is the young people and their ideas that matter and need to be taken into consideration, not my boring conservative dilemmas.

So starting now I genuinely urge myself only to pay attention to what the millennials think or even more younger people care about, what they gravitate towards.

Rebellious Youth

They don't watch TV anymore, TV is dead, nor they read the traditional print magazines, the print is dead (apart from rare editions collections for the few chosen ones). All they absorb now is youtube streaming, blogging and vlogging, social media and instagram. And Twitch, I mean Twitch Seriously? Just kidding Twitch is cool! Embracing it all and shaping the thinking of tomorrow.

Youth is always rebellious, they reject the old inefficient ways and adopt the new. The fight between fathers and sons, almost like a cultural shock when travelling an exotic country, different mindsets.

They care about coffee, and I mean coffee shops are everywhere. They also care about collecting emotions and experiences rather than things and material culture. Hipsters on scooters are all cute and positive, the taste makers of urban street culture seeking out the hype.

They are their own unconventional idols, building out cults out of niche underground cultures with big emphasis on sustainability trends. We see more and more grow local and vegan movements. Fantastic, health and longevity is all that matter in our individual lives.

Futurism

And then the future, how do we predict? It is not an easy task, particularly the future of art and cultural diffusion. However, Hans Ulrich Obrist, the co-director of Serpentine Galleries, decided to try. He asked many artists (as well as scientists, poets, architects, mathematicians, photographers, philosophers and other leaders in their field) to complete the sentence “The future will be….” I am sure the answers are as futurist as futurism can be. In this matters I would always advise to listen to the futurist architect philosopher Jacque Fresco. The education and all awareness is what matters.

New Age Education

Best Schools worldwide, experienced professors, multilingual classmates with entrepreneurial endeavours, the world is the youth’s oyster. These generation next is exposed to facts and information and geography of the world as no generation before urging everyone to be an artist and free spirit, thinking out of the box. Stay hungry stay foolish. The wealth of knowing and experiencing.

Multilingual Society

We just communicate. Fluent knowledge of four languages is a new norm with the demand for more and more exotic language skills such as Mandarin Chinese. A melting pot of cultures, phrases and cross references.

Exotic Worlds

The travel is omni present. The culture of Japan is only one day on a plane away from indigenous latin american tribes. Travelling more than 55 plus countries in before the young professionals even start acknowledging the thought about a family life, all sounds like an obvious life choice to experience the most before settling down.

Gastronomy

To experience all this futuristic world conquering endeavours we tend to focus on and prioritise our health and well-being more and more, the buzzwords such as longevity are surfacing everywhere. Life-Expansion is our individual primary concern, next to happiness. We pay more and more attention to our diet with gastronomy experiments. The food we eat is a subject to so many beautiful imagery as well as health benefits. The water is a new gold imported from every corner of the world and quality wine collections are the new world currencies that get traded over the table dinners.

Time Travel

We are exposed to all periods in time, and all is discussed openly. The best moments of decades and centuries are praised, the worst a ridiculed. There is a lot of inspiration to be taken out of history lessons and books that expose our wholesome pop culture and heritage.

Cultural Evolution

As ruled by the survival of the fittest, and all fields and industries are considered to be creative, all attempts are serious and ruthless. Every single one of us starts their journey somewhere, our inspirations and motivations are based on cultural heritage that eventually find its way in the first job, in ups and downs, and eventually in determination to be the best in our craft and profession. Then our first breaks of success determine who we are and capable of.

Museums of pop culture

The chapels of culture are more popular than ever: dance theatres, opera houses, cinemas, and of course the museums are the new shrines for societies. The Bilbao effect that completely redevelops the landscape of the city and economy. One of my all time favourite cities in the world is tiny Venice that i visit quite frequently, every two years to be exact for the art biennale. The amount of people these cultural bridges touch down deep their overall view on the world.

Technologies

The possibilities of new technologies together with human obsession to constantly shape the environment according to the human liking. The internet changed us, I remember being so fascinated by the possibilities of all free napster downloads in my early teens, the community of people brought together and exchange ideas, we are finally not alone. We build links and systems to facilitate and improve the quality of our every day existence. The horizons are broaden. Coding is a new norm and important language to explore.

The productivity opportunities with voice recognition software makes all typing and writing, as well as brainstorming fast and easy. The photo editors such as adobe photoshop and illustrator are indispensable tools. Self-publishing and self-promotion are at the tips of our fingers, and we can do whatever we want to do as long as we keep our focus on the essentials of our primary goals, the technologies help us achieve them faster.

Creativity

A trait of character that everyone possesses, the main thing is to start using it in everyday life. The impact it leaves on the world with all its out of the box solutions - the creative economy is the new trend for the 21st century and we shall embrace it, the whole brave new world of untapped territories

Self-expression

Generation next expresses themselves in various ways and they are not shy about it, whether it is music or fashion, how they dress up, what they project to the world, their hairdos and their makeup. In 2000s we saw a rise of the gender identity topics. Our next generations are more philosophical in our views and our religions are our inner worlds. We vote with our dollar.

Diversification

We embrace and discuss the importances of diversity, we range from black to grey to white will all flashy and neutral colours of the spectrum. There is an abundance of diversity in choices and ideas  and if we don't find what we are looking for, we are not shy on trying and experimenting, eventually we create it according to our desires. Diversification implies that ultra cheap mass production at scale is no longer of valid interest for thinking public, Individual designer and artisanal products are in favour and on the rise of popularity.

Music and Sounds

The culture of the Rhythm, the culture of gathering together and embracing the community around the fireplace, listening to Shamanistic hypnotising sounds, an evolutionary obsession with seven notes.

The evolution of music from refined classical through jazz and rock, through the 90s MTV, the rave and rap to modern electronic music and techno. The night life and club scene with amazing exotic locations, the infinite quantity of music labels and DJs as the kings, yet another example of religious community experiences.

Conclusion

Though culture is a universal tool of what makes us human, it is still incredibly diverse and mesmerising to explore. It consists of variety of elements and plays an indispensable role in our everyday interaction. Culture manifests in individual as well as in society and it makes a great subject to dig deeper into the depths of questions Why and How. This is something to cultivate within and express outside for the world to experience and be open minded to the new.

Culture combines within the elements of the past and the aspirations of the future, that perhaps one day we will build a community, so wise civilised and tasteful, that the progress will bring only joy and beauty, and utopia is not that far away.

Join our Omni Culture Club (OCC) for more beautiful thoughts and artistic revelations

Find Omni on Instagram

Evgeny is an art director and a global citizen based in Hong Kong and working between Asia and Europe.

Find Evgeny on Instagram

#omniyouomnime #culture #futurism #new #what is life #cultural heritage #what is culture #newcommunity

[kariachi]

@mellenabrave

Ben is thirty-six when he picks up art again.

He’s fresh from a divorce that’s all his fault, has lost custody of his daughter who knows it, and is left with a son he adores and a house that was already too big when there were four people living in it. He hates his job, he hates his town, he almost hates his ex and definitely hates himself.

A midlife crisis has hit hard and early.

So, he does something he hasn’t done in decades, he goes to a craft store in his local mall, buys pencils and notebooks, and gets to work. Art had always been where he went to hide when he was young, from the stress and drama that made up his family. Hopefully it can get him through this too.

~~

Twenty years since he’s last done anything more than doodles for his kids and it turns out he’s still got it.

~~

His home and office is littered with his works two years later when he picks up his ringing cell.

“You have to do this for the sake of the children.”

Which is not the strangest start to a conversation that’s happened between him and his ex, but is certainly up there.

“Hello to you too, Kai. What do I have to do for the kids?”

“You know that author Gwen’s obsessed with?” Ben has to wrack his brain to remember. The name doesn’t come to him, but he knows he’s writes children’s books. Kai’d gotten Gwen one of his books, an alternate history where dragons were indigenous to the Americas and the native peoples had domesticated them, and she’s been insisting on getting his works for every occasion ever since. Even Kenny is getting into it, now that he’s old enough to start reading some of his simpler works.

“Yeah. What did he put out another book?”

“Better, apparently he’s looking for a new illustrator.” Pausing in his vain attempts at dinner, Ben stands straighter.

“Really?”

“Yes. You have to apply.”

“Kai…”

“I’m serious, you’re really good, you love making things for the kids, and if Gwen ever finds out you didn’t she’ll never forgive you.” She still hasn’t forgiven him for the divorce and the idea that she could hate him even more tears Ben’s heart open.

“Okay, send me the information.”

~~

He needs to put together a portfolio and a resume and a cover letter and everything, but despite a lack of art-related references Ben manages to snag an interview. It’s over lunch, with a brown-skinned man with a smile sharp enough to cut cheese who introduces himself as Mr. Levin’s editor and publisher. There are tons of questions, from how long he’s been drawing to where he learned to why he wants to illustrate this author’s work.

Mr. Bustillo melts when Ben answers the last with pictures of his kids. At the end of the interview he slides him a paragraph’s worth of information and asks that Ben send them in a piece of cover art for the book so described, just to be sure.

~~

A week later Ben quits his job in favor of the illustrator gig. It pays less, but Levin churns out stories like medieval peasants churn butter so he won’t be lacking for work, and more importantly he enjoys it.

~~

It’s not until the first time they meet face to face to go over detail work that Ben learns Levin’s full name.

Kevin Ethan Levin.

He just about falls out of his chair he’s laughing so hard.

“Hey Argi. Yeah, listen, I want a new illustrator.”

~~

Ben does not lose his job, although he does end up buying Kevin a pizza. It’s worth it to keep his job, especially as he looks at more of Kevin’s work and realizes just how diverse he makes his stories.

That’s the sort of artist Ben can really like.

~~

Benji,

Okay man, I’ll level with you, you can’t make all the mains look like your kids. At least half of them need to look like mine.

Kev

Scratch that, this is the sort’ve artist Ben can love.

~~

Ben and Kevin both sign a special edition of the first of his books that Gwen read. It’s her Christmas present and the first time she hugs Ben in three years.

~~

Ben first meets Kevin’s kids that first winter. His house loses power during a bad storm and as soon as he hears Kevin insists on driving out to grab he and Kenny and take them back to his place.

Devlin, the youngest, is only a year older than Kenny and very shy, but within minutes has been dragged bodily back to his room so he can show him all his toys. The oldest, meanwhile, just glowers from his spot pressed against the fireplace when Ben first waves.

“Cyril Augustine Levin, I raised you better!” Kevin’s hands are on his hips and something about the stern frown on his face makes Ben want to swoon even as Aggy rolls his eyes, gives the most put-upon “hi” he’s ever heard, and goes back to his book.

“Not one of yours?” he asks once he and Kevin have made it to the kitchen, curled up around two mugs of coffee.

“No, he’s reading it for school. Goes to the University on the other side of town.”

“What’s he studying?”

“Anything that doesn’t involve people asking about his dad the author.”

~~

Once they’re safe and comfy back in their own home Kenny immediately asks if Ben is going to marry Kevin.

He hustles him off to bed, ignoring his son’s insisting that he is definitely blushing.

~~

Kenny and Devlin are fast friends from the first, which means suddenly Kevin and Ben are no longer just coworkers. At least once a week they find themselves taking a few hours for playdates, letting the elementary schoolers run themselves ragged while they have some adult conversation.

He learns a lot about Kevin. He’s a widower twice over, one wife for each son, though he refuses to go into more detail than “accident” and “illness”. He and his sons are mutants. He comes from a neglectful home. Argi has been his best friend since college. His favorite color is blue, he find carnivals boring, loves sheep and their cheese, and he and his kids are all allergic to strawberries.

Ben also learns that his nose crinkles when he laughs. That when you really look you can see a small patch of blue in his left eye. That he’s wild about the same old-school videogame series as Ben is and has all the movies. He works out daily to maintain those massive muscles of his. That his smile is the most amazing thing.

More and more time in the Tennyson home is spent ignoring Kenny’s not-so-subtle comments about how much he wants big brothers.

~~

“So, the prince in the latest one looks and sounds pretty familiar.”

“Yeah, it’s so sweet of Kev to be basing more of his protags off Kenny.”

“…why did I marry you again?”

~~

The fourth time he and Kevin go out for a business dinner and he catches himself staring at his mouth, he almost gives up altogether and makes a move. Almost.

Thankfully he’s not that stupid.

~~

Their second winter working together, Kevin insists on walking him and Kenny back to their car after a playdate. He holds Ben’s frigid hand the whole way down the walk and Ben feels like he’s going to catch fire.

If anyone asks he only lingered because his fingers were frozen into position.

~~

Ben’s curled up on the couch with a bag of Bugles and a beer, watching Kevin get interviewed on a talk show. They’ve covered such topics as why he writes what he does (he has kids), why his works are so diverse (because the world is and anyone with a problem with that can fight him), and the topics he chooses for his short stories (the woman is smart enough not to argue about the latest one, Kevin is very proud of ‘Andy’s Own Cookbook’ and would not have been responsible for any blood shed) when the host gives him a knowing smile.

“And what about the rumors going around that you and your illustrator are in a relationship?” Ben chokes on a Bugle, doubly so when Kevin groans and collapses back as much as he can.

“I wish!” he says and Ben about dies right there on the couch. “I have been as unsubtle as possible without just dragging him into a closet.” The host laughs. Ben’s entire body is on fire. Kevin likes him.

“Not one to pick up hints, huh?” Kevin groans again, rolling his eyes.

“He’s just damn lucky he’s cute.”

~~

Ben is forty years old, curled up on his boyfriend’s couch with the older man’s head in his lap. He has Gwen for the weekend and so far she’s spent it with a stack of books, sitting on the floor with Kenny and Devlin and forcing Aggy to read them to him.

“He’s really good with the voices,” Ben notes offhand and Kevin nods.

“He gets that from his mother.”

“Oh thank god one of them got something, was beginning to think they were actually clones.” Kevin smacks him in the gut for the comment, glaring at him with a look that’s trying very hard not to be a smile, and Ben responds by pulling him up for a brief kiss.

He loves his life.

#fanfic #bevin #ben needs to buy a clue #or at least a vowel

[beforeward]

RaaaaaaaaNT

I think that I may be driving my friends up the wall a tad right now, with all of these thoughts ruminating in my head, and all the time they want to echo and transpire. Idle time and good conversations set loose a slew of ideas and hypothesis, philosophical yammering, and I think it might be best to just slam them against a keyboard before I get sick of my own voice and half-formed rhetorical questions. We’ve spent some good days here, out of service, doing most thinks in the buff including practising ninja stars, cooking, and stretching, and all the while, having conversations that at once fill me up, and offer no out. I’m going try for an ‘out’ here.

We open the leather flap covering the mind and pull out string after string of topics, each bound together with transectionality, paradox, and common denominators. Topics surrounding humanism and feminism (one in the same, really);  magik; psychology and sociology (though never in such textbook terminology); matters concerning different indigenous groups and the matrix of  topics around these issues; sex; astrology; childhood and the strangeness of experiences; politics; poetry; and pretty much anything else we can think of. We usually do this in various stages of undress, sitting around the wood stove, which seems a perfect setting in which to try to untangle it all.

We talk of ambition and its dual nature. We present the nature of the negative toll of which we see around us; the defeating feeling of “not-enoughness” is prevalent in our generation and society (speaking from a white, middle-class perspective). Certainly there are links here to dominant Western society; definitions and parameters of success, value, and progress; capitalism; and many forms of oppression. 

We toss the strand around, trying to differentiate between ambition in a competitive or self-gratifying sense, and personal goals, which we all agree are healthy, as long as one isn’t made to feel like shit for not accomplishing them. The last part is key. What is the harm in having dreams, as long as we can take failure with a grain of salt? But generally, in this society hell-bent on perfection, we don’t. We don’t know how to make mistakes. When dreams become standardized, and thus, expectations imposed on us as children, we’re fucked right from the start. 

Now, there is a real problem with living simply and retreating from it all, living self-sufficiently and in a way that is symbiotic and respectful of the land. The privilege of turning our backs on the ugliness comes at a price paid by many.

In the short story, “Those Who Walk Away From Omelas,” the faceless characters who walk away from the town Omelas, which is a regular paradise, do so because they see the circumstance that breeds such unabated joy, and cannot bear to live there anymore. They cannot enjoy the fruits of sacrifice after seeing the squalor and inhumane conditions of a child locked in an unfinished basement, with no relation to speak of, and to whom no one has even even spoken.

Not to victimize oppressed and marginalized folks here by implying that they are one-dimensional and devoid of joy, but there is a definite allusion of a sacrifice made by society of the few for the many. The spirits of those who walk away from a system that institutionalizes such brutality are undoubtedly represented by those who choose to make good in this world, or at least, reduce the hurt. But again, is it enough to walk away in silent protest? Conditions borne of this system, one that rides the steady crescendo of disparity, makes me think that it isn't. For me, at least.

A good friend noted how he would love to buy some land somewhere (but from who?) and hide away from the world to which he belongs, yet loathes; and yet, the cities are the biggest messes, ones that we and those before us have made, and it is up to us to clean it up, and so he stayed. 

This isn’t the path for everyone. To be certain it is imperative to coming generations and times that people are practising the life that we’re fighting for, to learn and unlearn as much as they can about that world. We need people on front lines, -figurative and literal- to be certain, but equally as important are people learning to grow food, survive in the bush, rework the system rom the inside out, create new ritual and revive old, tell stories, create technology to bring us out of this dystopian gutter. 

Waxing a little extreme here, but we get riled up. 

I think that what I am desperately grappling at, this rambling digression, was put so simply and beautifully by a warrior named Sakej Ward.  

He drew a spectrum on the beige paper that showed legal protest, petitioning, etc. on one side, and warriors on the other. The spectrum depicted a movement. He said that it isn’t right for one part of the movement to look down on another for being too complacent or, conversely, too extreme or radical. Down the road, there may be points where parts separate based on different values. such as the use of violence as a tool, but until and especially then, we are all for the same thing and in the same lane (or trying to be).  

We need fast-paced change and the slow wearing down of a current. We need good listeners and humour, and such things require time off.

I think the most counterintuitive aspects of movements, or ‘activism’, are finger pointing, comparison, and ego. It seems sometimes that certain people who belong to the demographic of the ‘oppressors’ are often more likely to ‘call out’ rather than ‘call in’ , keep points, or create new points of prejudice born from the ricochet of old ones. 

This really is a rant. I don’t even know if I want to read or post this, since ideas stand skeletal and unformed. 

(decided to, after all, now that I found it!

[rehnro]

What a surreal weekend lies behind me. Hard to put into words, but I give it a shot anyway in this blog. I had been thinking about joining a traditional retreat for some time. Curiosity and the healing power of ancient medicine attracted me. Already in Russia I spent quite some time reading up about Yage (or Ayahuasca), what it does, where it is available etc. During my search I came across ‘Camino al Sol‘, which offers bi-weekly, traditional retreats close to Medellin in a circle of the ‘karari’ people (a group of indigenous & white people honoring old & new traditions and gods of various origins). After a cross check (thank you Siddharta) I booked my session to find out for myself.

“Wherever the art of Medicine is loved, there is also a love of Humanity. ” (Hippocrates)

Preparation

In order to prepare body & soul as well as to respect tradition, participants should adhere to some rules for (at least) the week preceding the ceremony. This includes no alcohol, no meat, no drugs and no sex. I met all conditions by the time I arrived … some proving harder to adhere to than others. In the end, I already felt pretty good going there after one of my healthiest weeks in recent memory.

Day 1 – Friday

A bus picked us up from Poblado Park at 3pm (well, a bit later after waiting for all clients) to take us to the retreat near Santa Elena (45min transfer). Located at 2,640m it boasts a much chillier climate than Medellin (1,600m). Once arrived we all settled into the dorm rooms and then had a brief info session with the organiser. Our first night would involve a plant bath, fire ceremony and the Yage ceremony itself. First up though was a little introduction as to what we have to expect in the days (nights) ahead.

Plant bath

Its basically hot water where they have three plants simmering for a while. These are lemon grass (limoncillo in Spanish), basil (albahaca) and rue (ruda). You shower yourself slowly with the mix while thinking of the questions you want to ask the Yage remedy later. The mixture is meant to cleanse your body, protect and harmonise you.

Fire blessing

You take off your shirt and get some incense on your body, arms and neck as well as pants on the outside. Then fire in a bowl is used to bless your body.

Yage ceremony

The ceremony is held in a maloka (round hut with straw top) around a fire. The elder is in charge of the process. This time, we had an elder with his wife from the Cofan tribe visiting from Putumajo – 23h travel away. Before any Yage comes into play, men are given tobaco essence on the hand (‘ambil’, looks like sticky Marmite) and dried, crushed coca leaves to chew (‘mambe’). Women get tobacco and some corn base paste to lick (which wasn’t available that night, they don’t get coca leaves). We then moved to another tradition – the circle of words. Here often a topic is picked for discussion (love, tradition etc), but this time we discussed the native culture these people preserve. While listening & speaking, a cup with pineapple juice passes round for everyone to take a sip (or a few). Everytime when someone finishes speaking/singing it is greeted with a ‘hey’ by the audience.

Who participates

It was the whole community of c30 people. Less than 10 were foreigners giving the whole ceremony a very authentic feeling. Literally all age groups were present (and participated in drinking medicine) from 5y to say 65y. Amazing really. Some kids, like Christoph who at the age of 12y can solve the magic cube, have been given the medicine since birth (he will become shaman). Everyone is taking it regularly in this community.

My first experience

You receive your cup from the shaman. I estimate some 5cl of Yage. The first 10min nothing happened, then very quickly colours come and you begin to drift into another world. You see colours and shapes, hear sounds, gaze at the ever-changing fire in the middle of the room and I saw memories of old episodes of my life as far back as my childhood and more recent ones. Others even saw their ancestors many generations ago. I never let myself drift properly though, but by opening my eyes kind of came back to this world only to see the net clip played when i closed my eyes again.

tobacco essence

The whole trip was quite intense by now. At some stage I left for the toilet opposite the maloka under heavy rain. I felt a bit stuck there, as it seemed quite far to get back and i had little desire to maneuver around the little creeks that had formed by now. At this stage, the natural side effect of yage saw many people vomiting (purification process) and/or having diarrhea. I was fine as would be the case for the whole weekend.

After a while I was off to the hammock room to rest and see my visions in a more comfi position. There were voices everywhere in the room, loads of colourful visions yet also many clear thoughts about a range of issues in my past and future life. The mix of hot and cold I went through left me a bit uncomfortable and I was still fighting to drop too deep into my visions out of fear to see something negative (which you often face with ayahuasca and is part of the healing experience). Generally though, I felt in control.

I skipped/missed the 2nd round of drinking and only wandered over to the maloka for life music & singing in early hours of Saturday before sleeping a bit more. We finaly all laid down in our proper beds at 7.30am.

What is Yage/Ayahuasca? Ayahuasca is a brew from the Amazon that is traditional mixed of Chacruna (DMT) and Caapi (MAOI). Over time, people started experimenting with the ingredients and found that Mimosa (DMT) and Harmala (MAOI) is the most potent and smooth trip if used correctly. Used for over 5000 years by the shamans or healers or teachers Ayahuasqueros as a way for the expansion of consciousness (Soul). And now it is used in Peru to help drug addicts and a substitute for antidepressant pills. (https://www.soul-herbs.com/what-is-ayahuasca/)

Day 2 – Saturday

After a relaxed afternoon around the camp, we started with a long circle of words around traditions with all foreigners speaking including myself. It was a good moment to share some of my background and motivation to be here and express my gratitude for being able to join this community.

At 11pm the first cup got me going pretty quickly with colours and some visions. Visited again some places of my past and childhood and saw lots of LSD type colours, but was always in control (open the eyes basically, that doesn’t always work though). I again retired in my hammock to meditate, but took my watch this time so not to stay too long and miss round two and not to be lazy. After less than 1h I was back in the main tent. By then I had already landed and still not purged. Others were busier working with the medicine.

At 2am we got a second cup – much bigger than last (80cl?). This one caused me some diarrhea, but otherwise wasn’t very strong when it came to visions. By now I had already gotten the understanding that I am probably not on such a bad path in life and had less to deal with than others. At 4am we were brought to the maloka again. Three guys already sitting topless in front of the fire (including one on a heck of a trip with constant vomiting). I joined together with Uri – my friend from Israel who I study spanish with. Once undressed we were rubbed with some essence before shamans were gathering around us, spitting some watery stuff at us all the time humming and waving while the other tribal people dance in tune to the drums. Quite an experience where i got repeatedly told off not to cross my arms or legs (probably to let the energy flow).

Day 3 – Sunday

The main difference on our last Yage evening was that the elder had left and we held the ceremony in the way they do it in Santa Elena. First that meant we started at 8pm and not 9-10pm. Second it meant a lot more music and singing. The effect of both the first and second cup were even weaker than before (although there should not be a memory effect) and seemingly all participants had an easier time (well, not so Shannon). The fire ritual I went through the night before was repeated for three others (where I participated in making music and danced) and I got a nice therapy (meaning back & shoulder massage).

My thoughts throughout Sunday were very clear and I had loads of time to think about what lies ahead (I keep that to myself though). My mind wasn’t the only clear thing, it was also the first night without rain. Most of us went outside at some stage to gaze at the bright and plentiful stars (even saw a shooting star). We all felt by now as part of the community. Initial awkwardness had disappeared. And so, with loads of music and singing, we ended a wonderful weekend retreat.

It shall not remain the last one for me and whoever feels like trying the medicine … look no further than Camino al Sol. You are in safe hands.

Even scopolamine (‘devils breath’) grows in the garden

Ancient medicine: Recollections of my Yage (Ayahuasca) retreat What a surreal weekend lies behind me. Hard to put into words, but I give it a shot anyway in this blog.

[pusheem-blog]

A Critique on Julia Craven’s Informative Text: “Black Activists Have Some Advice For New Protesters Pushing Back Against Donald Trump”

According to the text, entitled “Black Activists Have Some Advice For New Protesters Pushing Back Against Donald Trump”, which discusses how the election of Donald Trump has spurred a number of new protesters who likely would have not taken in any part of politics aside from voting every four years. Millions of people across the country recently took part in women’s marches after Trump’s inauguration. The anti-Trump, the Movement for Black lives, an alliance of activist groups pursuing to mend the lives of black Americans.  As the text, is mostly a claim of value because it focuses on the morals of the different races living in the United States of America who and why they are affected of this sudden change not only in their economy but everyday lives. This claim can be found in the sentence, “They act as a moral compass for the country. They are uplifting. However, it is going to take much more than mobilization to win this fight. We have the incredible task of using 20th-century models of resistance while also creating 21st-century ones that accurately reflect the times we are in. Organizing across movements, the development of networks and information-sharing between groups are central to winning this in the long haul.” It focuses on the changes, lessons, and advices that the  activists with previous experiences may use and be able to share their own knowledge in order to guide those new to this that may not have as much exposure to be able to gain a thing or too. Specifically, the protest movements like Black Lives Matter mainly struggle for civil rights in today's society.

The author portrayed conveyed a very strong message to all the people out there who are looking for hope or those who are ting to gain knowledge about this controversial issue.  Ever since, Donald Trump was inaugurated into office there has been a major change in various communities like the black, indigenous, Muslims, women, LBGTQ the lives of these people have been changed in because e of him. In his earlier days, beginning with his campaigns he has threatened the various lives of these people and even to be running for such a high position he must have the correct etiquette, values, and manners to be able to endure in this position. It is astonishing to be able to see the sudden shift of the citizen’s mindset and what they are doing to be able to help and take part in such because each voice is important and crucial in making a point.

The text in terms of the use of Aristotle’s Appeals was pretty clear and made use of mostly Pathos. This was shown because it mostly appealed to emotion and on how the people are trying to cope up with this tragedy. This was seen in the statement, “I can see the beauty of solidarity and what can happen when people come together, but I caution anyone who would erase the work of fearless black women who have been the face of much of the unapologetic resistance and demand for change we see today. It is these black women whom we should listen to and learn from as we move forward.” This of a way of convincing an audience of an argument by creating an emotion connection and response. As aforementioned above, this is text is a claim of value because it concerns what is good or bad, moral or immoral, just or unjust. This can be seen in the sentence, “Create narratives that speak to shared values, are clear about the problem and solution, and that speak to specific audiences ― audiences we’ve long written off as too uneducated and too unwilling to change. Audiences who share a difference of opinion or political belief. Audiences who, before Nov. 8, we thought had too little power to make any real change. Audiences we underestimated and ignored and now must prioritize.”

The text in terms of Logical Fallacy avoided was Anonymous Authority due to the fact that even though most of the text was composed of answers from interviews the author did not forget to always indicate where and who she got this information from. On the other hand, the Logical Fallacy that was committed was Oversimplification because of the exaggeration that every time there are literally thousands of people showing up to the protests that alongside with it black people are being killed. This was mainly seen in the statement, “Furthermore, we need thousands of people to start showing up when black people are killed by police in the same numbers that folks are showing up at these airport protests.”

The text in terms of Intertextuality being used was sequential association because it established a sequence that the text before it was related and as such is a reply. This showed how you could not understand the statement that came before it because you would need to relate or have prior knowledge that involved involving the said issue. This can be seen in the sentence, “The rhetoric of Trump’s administration has sparked a lot of new anger, which I hope encourages even more people to become active in advocating for ALL oppressed people in our society. I hope that more people begin to recognize that our society and country cannot ever become great until people are as upset about the banning of ‘immigrants’ and attacks on the black community as they are upset about Hillary Clinton losing the election.”

Overall, the text highlighted and covered a lot of things that could be used as reason, fact, and value that could be used especially in the youth, the future generation, and hope for a better tomorrow. There is no platform too small to use your voice to be heard, there are many who have done the work for us and with this, it should be studied and applied as necessary to the work being done now. The author could have better improved the coherence and cohesion of their said text and added more information about what she had in mind to the topic as well.The author was very keen and wise to write about such topic and issue that is very controversial this text may aid as a guide for people who are lost. As they say, “Not all those who wander are lost.”