#my dad grew up in the western part of the us and my mom in the south

[lorillee]

yada yada yada please rb for a wider sample size because i am actually VERY curious

#because apparently in australia they dont really use honorifics like at all . which is baffling to me #for us it was either first name or last name #and i thought that was standard until some guy got annoyed at our parents because my brother called him mr. [first name] #my dad grew up in the western part of the us and my mom in the south #but we've kind of moved around a fair bit so im not really sure where exactly id fall as far as region

[neoyi]

Just came from theaters. Thoughts (spoiler heavy) under the "Keep Reading."

I pretty much expected the narrative to be the safest, straightest Point A-to-Point B plot. Being a ninety minute film (which my bladder thanks, because I can't watch movies past the two hour mark in theaters without rushing to the restroom nowadays), it never stays in one place or dilemma for long; this film is snappy. Everybody takes things at face value amazingly quick and advance the plot with little struggle. It's kind of odd, because normally this would bother me WAY more since the emotional impact of the protagonist's personal arc should have that gravitate (this film needed maybe like, an extra ten minutes), but I think having a paper thin plot that runs entirely in speedrun mode probably saved it more than killed. It is right to the point, says what it needs to, establishes and answers, and then moves on. I think having a laser focus goal (Mario and Luigi ends up in the Mushroom Kingdom, Peach needs to save it from Bowser, they go kick his ass) means all the little scenes that we do are crucial to the overall movie instead of pointless meandering. The action-y part of the film get to linger the most, which are spectacular to see, though I would have sacrificed a few minutes of it for some introspection. I guess I shouldn't have expected much from an Illumination film, let alone Nintendo's default flagship. When you have a brand as big as Mario (he's pretty much gaming's Mickey Mouse, after all), it makes sense this movie is just... the most Okay Thing Ever. At the very least, it does mean the movie didn't get gross out humors or Mario spouting dated catchphrases, though the pop songs playing in the background DO stick out by contrast, even if it's another thing I'd expect from a mainstream western animated movie.

Probably the biggest jaw drop is not the isekai route (I'm 36, I grew up with American Nintendo lore where Mario and Luigi were originally from Brooklyn and I'm still grateful the movie paid tribute to it because damn it, I find that aspect of Mario Lore interesting, non-canonical my ass!) , but that they have... parents. Nay, a FAMILY. Mario and Luigi have always BEEN Mario and Luigi. We see their parents from the knee down and cloaked in shadows in Yoshi's Island, but that was literally a couple of screens post-credit; we never see their faces or catch their names or anything. Even the 1993 Mario movie only had Mario and Luigi - their parents were non-essentials. Imagine my shock to see they have A Mom and Dad. What the fuck? And not just parents, they have a whole extended family living under one roof (like any true Italians, of course.) I wanna know who these other folks are. Uncles? Cousins? There's a baby there. Mario and Luigi's cousin? Is the old guy their grandpa??? Help, I don't know what to do with this information. How do I take in Mario and Luigi having an actual family?

Pauline has a brief speaking role and it looks like she's in an important position. I'm guessing she's NYC's mayor. Does she know Mario in this continuity?

I see you there, Charles Martinet, voicing a character who looks like Mario, but it isn't Mario. ;D

Speaking of family, holy SHIT, this movie also clarified whether Donkey Kong was Cranky's son or grandson. It's the first! Granted, this might be true for THIS film only, but it's nice to hear someone lay out their relationship out loud!

It is absolutely to no one's surprise that the stand-out role is Jack Black's Bowser. Every scene he's in, he nails. He delivers with so much gusto and enthusiasm - this man clearly loved playing this guy. Dude gets a piano solo in the middle of the film (a love song to his beloved Peach, of course) because Christ, man, if you're gonna use Jack Black, then you gotta use every part of that buffalo!

I've already accepted that Peach is just the oddball humanoid out in the Marioverse long before canon established Mario and Luigi as Mushroom Kingdom originators, too. But the movie does something interesting and goes out of their way to explain why she's the only human in a sea of Toads. I imagine this could be potential material for the sequel. Like Mario, it's also hinted she, too is from Earth, before accidentally wandering into the Mushroom Kingdom as a baby. I have so many questions how this kid walked into a pipe located in a very obscure part of the NYC sewers (maybe her parents were very neglectful plumbers) and even more questions on her upbringing So, the Toads decided to just one take her in, raise her, train her, and then... crown her as their princess? This brings up the question on whether the Mushroom Kingdom started as a monarchy because of her or if they were filling in a vacant seat that they felt only she was worthy. It's such a weird, eccentric thing for the Toads to just DO, especially without a feasible explanation, but also, I feel like this is something these mushroom idiots would kind of do. I mean, have you seen them? They're hopeless.

I would have been fine if Mario learned all his acrobatic parkour skills in the training montage alone, but I actually love that he's always been acrobatic just from dodging Brooklyn's many, many, maaaaany obstacles. Is it silly? Yeah, it is, but ya know what, people do parkour in real life every day, so why not?

Mario and Luigi taking off their gloves to reveal their... hands, is weirdly off-putting to me. Like these are just CGi cartoon hands, but they have like nails and creases and stuff. And it sticks out so badly that all I wanted was for them to put the gloves back ON. Which is funny to me because official Mario renders do this all the time. Like look at a recent 3D model of Mario and see the visible strewn of hairs sticking out from his hat. I don't know why the hands don't work for me. Maybe I'm just so used to them wearing gloves 24/7. Kind of like Mario's nipples.

I suspected Luigi wasn't going to do much from the trailers I've seen, and that proved correct in the final film. He does get to use the super star with Mario to beat Bowser, but I feel it went a bit unearned. Look, if there's a choice between Peach getting kidnapped or Luigi, than I'd rather it be the latter. Peach here is leagues better than what she's originally stuck with, and it really was for the better. I just kind of wished Luigi had maybe a moment prior to the final fight where he, I don't know, gain some courage, and try to free himself and all the other prisoners. I mean, the film already squeezed in Donkey Kong's daddy issues for all the five minutes it had, I don't see why they couldn't do the same for Luigi. I feel then his team-up with Mario (which isn't thoroughly unjustified - they are the Mario Bros) would have felt like a gradual step forward with his character. Ahh well, maybe in the sequel. Which probably will happen. It'll be good news for Yoshi fans if it does, if the post-credit tease is anything to go by.

tl;dr: This is a very safe movie, though I expected it as much. It's like, there are all-age films designed for their target audience, but thoroughly enjoyable for older folks, too. And then there are kid's movie which are... just for kids. This movie is the latter. It's either that or designed for longtime/dedicated Mario fans, which I am also the latter.

I'm not entirely sure if I would consider it a fun movie, but it's not bad. Shallow, but not bad. I have no genuine grievance or high praises for it. But I enjoyed my time regardless and didn't feel like it was a waste. And hey, that's fine with me.

I will absolutely be getting this on bluray, are you kidding me? (Funny little ancedote: A kid sitting next to me in theaters was thoroughly disappointed with the movie. Like straight up groaning, because Bowser did not win. It put a smile on my face. You're gonna conquer the world, kid!)

#super mario #mario movie #mario movie spoilers #nintendo #neoyi talks

[junebugwriter]

I guess I never had much of a chance.

I just started watching Jessie Gender on Youtube's essay about masculinity and... it hit like a goddamn truck. So much of what she talks about in her past so closely mirrors my own, it's downright eerie. Down to the fact that I was an Eagle Scout. Although, to be fair, it sounds like she had a much better time in it than I did, considering I never really made many friends in my boy scout troop, and I never worked any of the camps.

But to the point... I really did echo a lot of her experience. I tried my hardest to be a man. To live up to the ideals of masculinity that society enforces. But I was never going to be anything close to that. I was always too fat, too sensitive, too emotional, and too unathletic to ever be anything close to Western Masculinity (tm).

I did try though. I was desperate to be seen as something close to approaching masculine, but it came out in such strange ways.

For those who don't know me in person, I grew up in the United Methodist Church, quite literally. My dad was a pastor all his life, and that's the only life I knew growing up. As such, we lived life "in a fishbowl," as we'd call it. That means we were supposed to be the Model Family. Above all reproach, under all scrutiny. If any of us stepped out of line, we were going to be reprimanded for it. Do you folks on here have any idea what that does to a kid? My parents loved me, to be sure, and I bear them little ill will. They did their best under the circumstances. But we were a religious family in Texas. There's very little non-conformity afforded to us. My mother, God bless her, she already bucked tradition. She wasn't exactly feminine, mostly. Sure, she wore dresses, wore makeup, even went square dancing with my dad. But she had little time for the trappings of femininity, and only wore them under obligation. She did not enjoy being a pastor's spouse, for the most part. She endured it, for my Dad's sake, but she made no secret that she wasn't going to pretend to be some Stepford Wife bizarro Tammy Faye Bakker. Not her.

So I grew up with my dad, a uniquely anxious person, stressed about how me and my brother were going to make it. My dad was a pretty old-school guy, but at heart he was a bleeding heart liberal, as much as one could be in Texas in the 80's and 90's in religious circles. There's not a single Democratic president he didn't vote for. He was Democrat til he dies. Yet... that could never be public knowledge. Not in the church. Not in Texas. So already, we became bearers of secrets. Mom isn't a pastor's wife. Dad isn't a Republican. And so we were taught to bear our own secrets.

I'm neurodivergent. I have ADHD. And I am almost entirely incapable of telling a lie. (Ask my partner, she knows!) But little secrets... that was a matter of survival. Little secrets, for the benefit of the Image. Everyone has them, I learned. But God help you if your secrets ever got out.

So I learned, and learned, and learned some more. I'd ask questions, and to their credit my parents answered most of them truthfully, if they could. But there were some things you do not question.

One of them was gender. But I did not know that word.

How could I?

Not in that environment. Not in the fishbowl. Not in Texas. Not in the church.

Girls did x, boys did y, and that's that. Girls were x, boys were y, and that's it. End of discussion. Black and white.

There were signs I did not conform. I loved the show Barney and Friends... until I overheard kids at school call it a show for girls and little babies. Not a show for boys.

Overnight I stopped watching.

I used to sleep with a blanket every night. I loved, adored that little blanket. I found solace in Linus from Peanuts, and his little blue blanket. But my father chafed at its ever-presence. He never said anything against it, but he didn't have to. I could tell. So my mother, God bless her, she stitched me and my brother some pillows with fun animal designs on them. They substituted for the blanket. Father approved, as they had things like tigers and killer whales on them, which were Boy Approved (tm) things to like.

But then there was the ladybug puppet. It was a cute little stuffed ladybug that fit on my hand, and it even had an extra leg so as to be anatomically accurate. I slept with that every night.

Until my mother told me that dad didn't want me to do it anymore. He was worried it was too "feminine." And she said it in a very sing-song voice, a teasing tone I grew all too familiar with.

So into the closet the puppet went. And me with it.

I became hyper-vigilant about what could be perceived as "feminine" from there on out. I watched what I did like a hawk, trying never to ever raise the annoyance or ire of my dad or my peers. But it was never enough. As anyone who has ever had to play that game of gender chess, there was never going to be any chance for someone who is a trans girl to ever be anything but, even if they didn't know that was what they were.

I didn't hear the word "transgender" until I was in grad school. By then, I had already felt a call to ministry. By then, I had long ago locked up all gender nonconformity in a closet back when I was in grade school. I had lost an entire childhood, teenhood, early young adulthood. And by then, I felt like they described what being trans was like, as if it was for someone else. Glad I didn't deal with that issue!

But I did. I simply did not allow myself to question things. Did not allow myself to break the box I was put in as a child. Because I was a white guy, going to be a pastor. I figured I would just be that all my life.

Life has changed about three times since then. I only allowed myself to ask myself the hard gender questions in October of last year. I was 35. I'm turning 36 this next month.

I'm starting my life over again, a fourth time. But I'm actually looking forward to the future, for the first time in my entire life.

Because now it actually exists.

#lgbtq #gender #transgender #childhood #church #religion #christianity #biography #jessie gender #ministry #united methodist church #texas #the south #queer #in the closet #trans femme #trans feminine #personal

[menalez]

It annoys me to the core how western movements took liberty of appropriating the word "caucasian" for their own vocab as if it was lying around before, meaningless and unused. im a caucasian woman a.k.a a woman born in Dagestan, Caucasus region. i grew up in rural area, with my deeply religious, muslim grandparents( &with all the "percs" that come with it), bc my mom was working her ass off as a nurse 24/7 to feed us, and my dad was prosecuted for being a political activist and couldn't find any job. Eventually, we had to flee our home bc the pressure for my family's political position and ethnicity was immense and honestly hard to bare.

Now, the topic of russian colonisation of Caucasus was somewhat clear before, i could talk in length on it, esp since have a major in history. But now that "caucasian" was rebranded as a new name for white people in the US, i found myself striped of a basic language to describe oppression of my people.

At first, i thought it was only a US-ian quirk, but as i studied in Germany, i had to repeatedly defend my stance on using "caucasian" to name my ethnicity bc profs were arguing that the term is too broad and ambiguous and i should choose another word/title etc. I had to argue with my coursemates a lot bc we essentially misunderstand eachother when i say smth like "the oppression of caucasian people". People online call me racist for calling out this practice.

Honestly, sometimes i lose hope. Everyone see the effects of imperialism and colonization when it's time to point at US ro Canada or UK w/e, but not when it's russian empire/ussr/russian federation. What's more, ru's imperialism is overlooked and enabled. It's always "oh, not all russians" but even ru leftists are imperialists, even ru feminists are imperialists. Tell them not to call caucasians racial and ethnic slurs and mention the possibility of your region gaining independence, and they'll have a meltdown.

Anyways, thanks for reading this. i really didn't mean to vent this much, but as an exmuslim lesbian, i found your blog really compelling. l appreciate your active position and calling out racist and lesbophobes.

i would say it’s not western movements necessarily unless u count those western people that invented the terms for different races to be that,, but ive seen many ppl from the caucus region complain about this too. i wouldn’t say its a new thing either, they’ve been using caucasian to mean white people for quite some time as it was a part of race science. at the same time they called black ppl and asians “negroid” & “mongoloid” respectively, which is now deemed racist for obvious reasons. “mongoloid” probably related to mongols specifically too which makes it confusing. whereas “caucasian” was used to mean basically everyone else. interestingly they didn’t invent the term “europoid” for example so they intentionally made it a broad term & named it after the caucus region bc they deemed ppl from there the mist beautiful and thus the same as europeans.

i feel u tho, ignoring that russia also colonised many countries is unfortunately common & it sucks theres no term that clearly refers to ppl from the caucus bc europeans appropriated caucasian to apply to themselves

[moonjxsung]

i love you so much bb!! thank you for being so open with us always💜💜💜

annddd, you’re mexican?!? that’s so awesome. we could’ve been sharing the tea in spanish!

my first language is spanish so my english especially written can be a bit iffy. my dialect is usually in spanglish, which i’ve become conscious about lately. but spanish is great for the enhancement of ✨drama✨

it kinda sucks that school kinda shoved away your spoken spanish skills though. but im glad you still understand it and are able to write it! my cousins moved from PR to NC and lost their spanish (both written and spoken) in its entirety and are just getting back to relearning it.

and your dad is from Iran! that’s such an interesting culture mix! you have rlly cool personal fun fact list🫶🏻

ily bb😘😘😘😘

-🐈‍⬛

NO WAY UR FIRST LANGUAGE IS SPANISH solo podemos chismear en español donde estan todas mis mexicanas LIIIIIIKE…… ‼️‼️🗣️ I totally get you on the Spanglish part, my mom speaks in Spanglish all the time too so I’m literally so used to it! If you ever want to rant in Spanish you are so welcome to do so we welcome any and all languages on here 👼🫶💕💓 I’m so bummed I didn’t grow up speaking more Spanish but I’m glad at least I fully understand & can write it AND it helps that Spanish class in high school was easy as hell LMAO

my parents are definitely an interesting mix !! They met at a night club and they couldn’t speak each other’s languages but my dad did everything in his power to learn Spanish just enough to be able to date my mom and then they slowly improved their English skills ✨together✨ before having kids so they were already between Spanish/Farsi AND English by the time my siblings and I came along. And since we all grew up in the states we were fully westernized and English speaking only which kinda sucks having that cultural divide but I still learn about their cultures where I can!

I LOVE U POOKIE I hope you had the best day 👼💕💞💝💓💖🩷

#🐈‍⬛ anon #ask

[mibeau]

[CULTURE] Our Interests and Surroundings moulded our Linguistics Skills - Talk about the Bumis in Malaysia and Johor Heritage

Disclaimer: The Javanese mentioned here are the Javanese descendants in Malaysia and not Indonesian Javanese. In particular, Orang Jawa Johor (The Javanese People of Johor). And 'speak Malay' indicated Bahasa Melayu Johor. Everything shared is based on my observations and personal experiences of myself and Nadia, except wherever sources were cited.

***

Malays in Malaysia are diverse in ethnicities.

Within my family circles, they are Orang Jawa(The Javanese), Orang Bugis(The Bugis), Orang Laut(The Indigenous Malays of the Sea), Melayu Riau(Malays from Riau) and Orang Bajau(The Bajau). Often in Malaysia, especially in urban areas, if you have a slight Malay genetic makeup and you are a Muslim, your race is automatically a Malay. It was not until I went to University that I realised that was not always the case. Many Malaysians actually chose their ethnicities as their race in their NRIC(National Registration Identity Card).

My first exposure to this understanding was with my old friend back in the University.

Since he was from Sabah, I was not sure what his race was and was curious. So I asked, and he answered, “I’m Bugis.” I was baffled, cos no one ever told me their ethnicities in the first meets. So, I asked again, “So, you’re a Malay?” He again emphasised, “No. I am Bugis. Not Malay.” I’m confused. I was like, “But, ain’t Bugis also Malay?” He said, “Nooo… in Sabah, Malay and Bugis are different!” From there I understood that in East Malaysia they considered their ethnicity as their race, and most of them are sensitive about it. I also had a Muslim roommate who looked, Malay. She was from Sarawak. She had the same name as mine but with a Lee surname. So, I casually said, “Oh, your mom is Malay and your dad is Chinese?” She smiled and said, “No, I am not Malay, I’m half Melanau. And yes, my dad is Chinese.” There is Melayu Sarawak, but I learned that there is no such thing as a general term of Melayu Sabah. In Sabah, they do have Melayu Kedayan, Melayu Brunei and Melayu Cocos, tho. Although Kedayan is technically of a different ethnicity, they seem not to mind much being called Malay cos it seems they were quite similar or related(according to people I met)? Similar to the case of Kadazan-Dusun ethnicities. Due to their diversities in Sabah, most younger generations of Sabahan speak Bahasa Melayu Sabah which unites them. Unlike in Sarawak, people do speak Bahasa Melayu Sarawak, as much as many people speak Ibanese, too, due to large Iban populations.

A few years later, I helped my youngest sister sort her things in her hostel at a Polytechnic in Shah Alam, Selangor.

I can’t remember what the headlines but I saw a few candidate posters stating names, ages and races on the walls. What caught me was Bugis. I asked my sister, “There’s a lot of East Malaysians here?” “She replied, there are but not much. These are Bugis from Johor actually.” That was my second wave of understanding the local cultural dynamic. It hit me, that in suburbans, where one ethnicity is concentrated, they do tend to use their ethnicity as their race, regardless they are Westerners or Easterners of Malaysia. Although, generally in West Malaysia, we don’t really mind being labelled as Malays. I was ignorant because I had a cousin-in-law in Johor who speaks Bugis at home, but her NRIC still stated her race as Malay. Her family identified themselves as Melayu Bugis. She grew up in Kampung Bugis in Pontian. And my uncle(by marriage to my paternal aunt) is a Bajau from Ulu Tiram, Johor. But, he is Malay in his NRIC.

The unfortunate part about living in urban areas is, that the children tend not to use and practice the minor languages.

My cousins admitted that my uncle did teach them the Bajau language growing up, but since their grandparents had passed away and they lived in Johor Bahru, they did not practice and had forgotten most of it. My Uni bestie is from Labuan, her dad is a Dusun from Beaufort, Sabah. Even though she went back to the village at least once a year growing up, she only understands a bit and does not speak the language. Since all her cousins are also of mixed ethnic backgrounds, they simply used Bahasa Melayu Sabah. She used primarily Bahasa Melayu Sabah in her daily life in Labuan and speaks English at home. Her mother is a German-Chinese of Sabah. One of my besties in Johor Bahru, Nadia, speaks no Javanese except a few common phrases, despite inheriting some percentage of Javanese blood from her parents and visiting Kampung Jawa yearly for Raya gatherings.

I am delighted to interview Nadia, a Javanese Malay from Johor Bahru, Johor.

Her father is of Bugis-Jawa heritage, originally from Sungai Balang, Muar, Johor. He spoke primarily Malay at home. Her late mother, however, was a full-fledged Javanese from Parit Jawa, Muar, Johor. She grew up speaking Javanese with her family and the neighbours. So, growing up until today, Nadia does go back to Muar and mingle with the Javanese community at least once a year. When her grandparents were alive, she used to visit them monthly. Her fondest memories back in the village were playing with fireworks with her cousins’ children and the bustling surroundings during “rewang” and “makan time”, especially in the festive mood of Raya.

Nadia is fluent in Malay and English. Her favourite “Malay” dishes are; terung balado and bakso. A few simple Javanese phrases she can speak are like “Have you eaten?”, “How are you?” and numbers. To her, the similarity of Javanese to Bahasa Melayu Johor is only about 80%. However, she felt whenever she listens to the elders, it sounds more like Bahasa Indonesia than Bahasa Malaysia. Perhaps, due to their thick Javanese accents.

As early as her memories can reach, she has been exposed to the Javanese language since child.

Her late mother always used Boso Jowo with her immediate family and neighbours in Kampong. She remembered her late grandmother always spoke Javanese with her. It is always a fond memory of whenever her late grandmother laughs at her failure to imitate the Javanese words properly, and they laugh together. Her grandmother encouraged her to speak the language and patiently explained the meaning. Yet, the words failed to stick to her mind. Her younger self thought, that since people could understand Malay and I don’t use Javanese at home or outside of kampung, therefore, her lack of interest, hinders her progress in the language. Although she used Malay with the villagers, sometimes she will try to reply in broken Javanese. As an adult, she admitted that it would be nice if she could fully understand then the elders and people in the village converse. Like her, unfortunately, none of her cousins speaks Boso Jowo.

I once visited her village back in 2009 I think, with my family. I must say, everyone spoke Malay with thick Javanese accents there, even the local youngsters. I remember when we stopped a boy, probably around 10 years old to ask for directions, his accent was so thick that it surprised our family. My parents smiled and found it cute actually. I listened carefully to comprehend his words. After we moved on, I asked, “How come his Javanese accent is so thick, yet he’s Malaysian?” My dad replied, “We are in Kampung Jawa Cha… everyone speaks Javanese here. The boy probably rarely goes out from the village’s perimeter and is even schooled within.” When we reached her place, we were served with Nasi Ambeng Dulang. What amused me was, everyone else but us converse in Javanese. Fascinating.

Remember, Nadia’s Javanese proficiency is almost zero.

Yet, she speaks Japanese. She even took tests. She is the holder of the N5 JLPT certificate. (Japanese-Language Proficiency Test). Her Japanese is not completely grammatically correct, but, she definitely can guess any sentence if she knows the root words of the message of whatever the speakers were conveying. What inspired her to learn Japanese is her love for Anime (Japanese Animations). She finds the language cute and quirky. She has visited Japan twice: Kyoto and Osaka. Her favourite Javanese phrase is ‘Wes Mangan?’ (Have you eaten?) and her favourite Japanese phrase is ‘Onaka Suita!’ (I’m hungry!)

According to Nadia, language is a culture. By knowing different languages, you will be able to understand people better.

Me too, growing up with Johoreans and spending most of my adolescent years in Johor Bahru, I didn’t realise that we are influenced by the Javanese and Middle Eastern cultures in our foods and Malay dialects.

I only felt the differences when I visited other states and spoke with the locals. And when I found similar foods or cultures, it was due to the Javanese communities there. In some states, they do not understand what is “rewang”(community works together for the benefit of everyone, not limited to but usually for gatherings involving foods) and ‘kawen padok’(arranged marriage). I first realised the Arabic influences when I started to mingle with the Arabs back in Uni. My favourite Malay foods are Nasi Ambeng and Mee Rebus (A variation of Mee Jawa, yet less sweet and more starchy. Served with “kerak” = crunchy bits). For lauks, I love Asam Pedas Tetel and my father loved Asam Pedas Ikan Semilang. Must have Daun Kesum! It is common for us in Johor to eat in dulang(big round tray) during special occasions at the mosques or “kenduri”. We were taught that it is to strengthen relationships. The practice is not limited to only Nasi Ambeng. It can be nasi putih with other dishes as well. Or Nasi Minyak. However, I must admit, today, this tradition has been replaced by buffet menus, especially in urban houses.

 As an adult, I now understand even the Malay culture in Johor is a melting pot of many other cultures.

I assumed it was due to the demographic of our trading industry, as well as the royal history. To start, let’s talk about Johor Foods. Nasi Ambeng & Mee Rebus were brought in by the Javanese. Kacang Pool by the Arabs. One of the Johor Royal Family Members back in the eras craved Spaghetti Bolognese, so the Royal Cook invented Laksa Johor. Next, Dance and Music. Zapin Johor was inspired by a type of Arabic dance and created by the local Peranakan Arab community. Kuda Kepang Johor was brought in by the Javanese and later modified by the locals to remove the unislamic rituals. Ghazal, a music inspired by the Arabs, was brought in during the Johor-Lingga dynasty by people from Riau. Keroncong which originated from the influences of the Portuguese in Java Island, was brought in due to the interest within the Royal family. Today, all of these are considered Johor Heritage.

My parents identify themselves as Melayu Johor.

My late paternal grandmother was of Orang Laut-Javanese heritage. Her family used to live by the sea near Jalan Wong Ah Fook in Johor Bahru. She was schooled at Sekolah Bukit Zahra until Primary 4. Even in her days, since she lived in the city, she only spoke Malay at home and within the community. She understood a little bit of Javanese. She then was married to my late grandfather, a Bugis-Melayu Johor. They lived their whole lives in Kampong Melayu Majidee after they got married. My grandmother sells food and my grandfather was a notice officer. My late grandfather also, only speaks Malay and basic English. Note that Melayu Johor means their heritage was all blended with no significant traits of any particular ethnicity. Therefore, my late father and his other seven elder siblings also, only speak Malay at home.

The older generation tends to speak Malay with English terms. I remember my conversation with my late paternal grandmother, “Aku nak pegi bayar pine kat bando. Nanti bagitau bapak ko.”(Tell your dad, I am going to the city to pay ‘pine’.) I was like okay. Then I relayed the message to my dad and asked him further, “Bah, pine tu ape?” (Dad, what is ‘pine’?) He answered, “Ohhh.. maktok ko nak gi bayar Fine, denda denda…” (Ohh… your grandmother wants to pay ‘Fine’, government-issued fines.)

My late mother’s heritage is more diverse.

My maternal grandfather was of Bugis on his father's side and Chinese-Siam Johor on his mother’s side. I am not sure what language he spoke growing up, but, throughout his life, he spoke Malay, English and understood Bugis. My maternal grandmother’s father was Dutch(Indonesian) and her mother was a Melayu Riau-Persian from Tanjong Balai, Pulau Karimun of Kepulauan Riau, Indonesia. When she was still a baby she was given to her child-less aunt who married a Bugis Johor and lived in Parit Sulong, Batu Pahat, Johor, Malaysia. Although she originally had many siblings, she grew up as a bratty only child in the family (according to her). She did experience Japanese school during the occupation. Thus, she primarily spoke Malay, understood English and very basic Japanese. Interestingly, my late grandfather has never been to a Japanese school, I am not sure why. At home, my maternal grandmother speaks Malay and my maternal grandfather speaks Malay and English to their children. After married, they lived in one of the government bungalows in Kota Kecil, Kota Tinggi, Johor.

My maternal grandmother is a housewife and my maternal grandfather was a medical dresser. Back in the day, dressers and nurses did almost as much as the doctors. According to my mother, he often did visitations to rural areas in Johor for medical checkups and treatments of the people. And people actually called him Doctor. He even has his own dispensary room and the back of their home in Kota Kecil. She sometimes watched her father compounding medicines, and her father would happily explain the process.

Before my parents pursued their studies for tertiary education, they did their schooling in Johor.

My father went to Ngee Heng Primary School, Aminudin Baki Secondary School(SAB) and Sultan Ismail High School (SSI). All in Johor Bahru. My mother went to Laksamana Secondary School in Kota Tinggi until Form 3, before her family relocated to Johor Bahru. She completed her secondary school at IJ Convent Girls School until Form 5. She then proceeded to Sultan Ibrahim’s Girls School during her High School years. That was when my parents met, during their bus rides.

When I was young, I always wondered, we are all Malays, yet, why my cousins on my father's side were not comfortable with English?

Most of my uncles and aunts speak English but not comfortable much, unless they were in the army or government officers. Whereas, even though we mainly used Malay in our conversations, still, everyone on my mother's side speaks and understands English well. And their basic medical knowledge is better. But, for traditional foods, definitely people on my father's side, cook more delicious delicacies! Laksa Johor and Asam Pedas were my favourites! As far as I am concerned, my mother's side never cooked Laksa Johor at home and my mother was the first in the family that regularly cooked Asam Pedas at home. But, to be fair, my mother’s side always makes delicious Ayam Masak Lemak Cili Padi, another favourite of mine, and my mother’s favourite: Asam Rebus Ikan Baung, and these were rare on my father's side. Nonetheless, since we all are Johoreans, we always eat Kuah Lodeh and Sambal Kacang on the first day of Aidilfitri!

Slowly, I observed and comprehended. One, the languages growing up differ. Hence the proficiency. Two, the family dynamic and community were different. Hence, the basic knowledge and palate differences. But these days, the youngsters, my nieces and nephews from both sides, speak English equally as well as Malay. Unfortunately, many of them equally do not know many traditional dishes.

My maternal grandmother was only comfortable writing and reading in Jawi(Malay written with modified Persian-Arabic scripts).

Everything in her phonebook by the landline phone was all in Jawi. My Jawi before secondary school was very weak, I only knew the letters and was unable to construct any sentences except for my full name. So, whenever I had sleepovers at her place and she asked me to call someone, I was struggling to look through the phonebook and always had to refer back to her. Then, there was a time after she had an eye surgery when she had to spell out the letters for me and I was ‘crawling’ searching for the mentioned name or messages in the phonebook, haha. And my maternal Mak Ngah (Second-born Aunt), who is in her 70s now, was a secretary. She also prefers to use Jawi in her shorthand notes. I, myself and my brother, can write and read Jawi. Although, not as fast as the standard modern Malay. However, both of my younger sisters can only read a little bit of Jawi. And not comfortable writing in Jawi at all.

Time flies, and culture evolves. These are the reasons why State or Federal organisations and foundations are necessary to preserve and conserve our heritage in documentation. So that, our history is not wiped out in the future.

Other photos are sourced from Asam Pedas, Laksa Johor, Nasi Ambeng, Ghazal, Mosque, SSI and SIGS.

***

P/s: In my next article, inshaAllah I will write about an individual with Thai-Malay heritage in Penang.

#my heritage #Melayu Malaysia #Melayu Johor #Bahasa Melayu #Language and Culture

[lolyuri]

hey what’s up it’s meee~ again, OOF are y’all tired of me ?? be honest. but yep, it’s angel with another baby to shove in ur face. i’ll reach out to everyone but if anyone wants to plot or chat, y’all can find me in dm’s on any of my muse accs or if discord’s easier, lmk n i’ll add u ♡

here are some funky lil stats, plots, and a pinterest for a funky lil gal !

✿ — look who’s joining the infinite tour! only BAE YURI, who is the STYLIST of PHOENIX. i’ve heard whispers that the 23 year old is pretty IMAGINATIVE but lowkey FLIPPANT. also, doesn’t she remind you of SON CHAEYOUNG?

FAMILY/GROWING UP

yuri was born in busan, s.korea on april 27th, 1999

she’s lived with her mom since she was a young child, v close with her and considers her as one of her bestest friends :’)

her dad is always away as he has work in the states as a uni professor so she always video chats him<3

also has an older brother (which i’d like to be a wanted connection, just gotta figure out details first)

she did NOT like school lol like the only class she actually did well in was english/literature because of her dad who encouraged her to take it more seriously as that’s what he teaches in uni

but she never really found the motivation in other classes, getting berated for it quite often from her teachers

that’s probably where her distaste for authority comes from, it got her in trouble quite a bit so she got detention A LOT :> also she barely passed the classes she hated just to piss them off like here’s the bare minimum bye ksjsks

but her difficulty in school paired with her dad being away most of her life was pretty hard on her so she kinda took it out in not the most appropriate way

she would sneak out into the city and spray paint on alleyways of stores or heavy corporate buildings and she had a few close calls with some cops (in other words, the authorities wink wonk, her greatest enemy)

but yuri never actually got caught by them, she may have tiny legs but she’s swift and fast dsksks

she actually only got caught by her mom lmao who wasn’t mad,, she was p impressed by her art but lowkey was like ‘do it somewhere else or ill kick ur ass ok’ so she reluctantly moved to easels or paper

anywho !

living right near the sea, she loved it and it was her happy place. if she was outside, she was sitting on the sand and doing some homework or working on her paintings

yuri also used to work part-time at a fishing shop, another one of her besties growing up being the old man who owned it

she probably had like one or two friends being her own age sdksks

her connection to makeup soon grew from watching her mother plus her infatuation with western movies and tv shows so she used some of her earnings (that she didnt use whenever she helped out her mom) from the fishing shop to buy palettes, lipsticks, foundations, etc.

but eventually yuri enrolled in cosmetology school when she was 18

PHOENIX/INFINITE ERA

yuri got hired to be phoenix’s makeup artist after 2 years into their debut, making her 20 at the time

she’s been with them for almost 3 years and she loves experimenting with the members’ looks, from darker to more elegant styles, then the occasional colorful ones depending on the concepts of their mv’s, performances, etc.

she was not crazy about the acquisition, she hated the changes that came with it

so she has beef with infinite (who doesn’t) atm, starting to venture into doing her own thing when it comes to her job lmao

and she’ll gladly stand up for her fellow staff n the phoenix members

also if yuri sees those twt threads of fans wanting specific makeup styling trends for any of the members, bet ! she’ll provide

PERSONALITY

she’s v imaginative, putting effort into her work like detailing, making sure it’s perfect, etc.

laidback, opinionated, protective

flippant, authority isn’t her style. being told what to do, feeling like she’s being held back

stubborn, sarcastic, impulsive

although yuri is very laidback and nonchalant when it comes to life and rarely her work, she hates failing. it’s one of the few things that scare her, just the thought can make her into a nervous wreck

OTHER

she’s a bit of a sloth, pretty sleepy and runs on coffee, preferably iced

she has QUITE the collection of tattoos, v cute, v dainty yes (i loooove chaeng’s tats theyre so cool but im not a big fan of using idols’ personal tattoos so not using those)

hobbies are painting, drawing, reading, MUSIC

yuri loves stardew valley and will brag about her farm and tell u all about her love triangle with penny and sebastian

a taurus just like her mother :’)

she’ll be all like ‘love? ew.’ but once she’s in a relationship, she’s a lil lovesick puppy i tell u

she mainly speaks korean but her dad has taught her some english, not really speaking it much unless she has to

enjoys deep conversations like pls contemplate the existence of the universe with her or mayhaps if aliens are real, she’ll talk ur head off

aaaand i believe that’s it on my fairy !! i shall be bugging y’all for plots so watch out,, got a few ideas on her page if u guys are interested :’) ily all !

#˚ ༘♡ ooc ⋆｡˚ #infinite:intro #im so excited for her o em gee

[crazycatsiren]

(apologies for any mistakes i missed, for some reason whenever i send an ask to anyone it won't let me backspace)

i've always been fascinated with chinese folk religion and the deities ever since i learned about them, but i have always had this sort of imposter syndrome(?) surrounding my interest because i'm only half chinese, not fully, which is something my dad's side (chinese) and my chinese friends have always sort of poked fun at me for. (always in jest, i know, but sometimes it does make me feel a bit bad.)

at the time, i didn't even know that these deities were still worshiped since all of the books, articles, and videos i had read/watched spoke of them as something of the past. now, i know that they are still worshiped even today, and it's something i feel sort of connected to in a way. i believe in them, and i often think of them all hanging out up in the heavens and affecting the world. but my mind keeps telling me that i'm too western to do anything further than just acknowledge that they're there, if that makes sense. i grew up in america, my white mom was a bigger part of my life than my chinese dad, and i don't speak chinese at all. i feel like i would feel so odd and wrong participating in the religion and practicing what other believers do. are these fears valid?

Believe me, I totally get it.

I'm full Chinese, am still fluent in the language that's my mother tongue (though it doesn't feel like it because English has been my primary language for more than 2 decades and I've lost so much of my first language from lack of use and almost no chance of continued learning), but I left my motherland before I turned 12, and I'd spent my adolescent and young adulthood years erasing my Chinese identity because the pressure of acclimating, adapting, fitting in, and becoming American was too great. It wasn't until after I got married, when my perspectives began to shift with maturity and life experiences, that I began to re-embrace my native identity and reclaim my native culture, and it's an ongoing process that I still feel like I'm playing catchup on.

I think it's a part of your ancestry that you have the right to reclaim. It's a part of who you are, and I think it will be good for you to further discover and explore. Trust me, even I feel "too Western" at times. It's hard not to. We are products of our environments after all. But you have that connection, that link to the history, the culture, the people, the stories. That's not something anyone can take away from you.

[taylortruther]

and has the perception of her changed overtime, now that she does dress or act a little sexier? thinking of reputation specifically i guess!

Ok. So over the years asians celebs have also started dressing boldly so her dressing is still very tasteful. Like even K-Pop girlies wear short stuff all the time, they are okay with short dress as long as it doesn't appear to be purposeful. And dressing sexy is comparative right.. Compared to other popstars she doesn't do nudity or overtly sexy. They don't have a problem with the sexiness, it's about doing it purposefully and what they consider tasteless.. So changing Asian dynamics made it easier for her to still be pleasing

Also she is grown up now right. She dressed like a teenage when she was young and then she grew up and started dressing like a grown..they would find her weird if she dressed up like a child now. Like my dad after learning ariana's age was kinda shocked that her dressing is like a teenager.

And we are talking about Asian parent demographic right.. They don't listen to her songs or follow her religious. The press covers her but only important stuff not like western media. So a lot of people didn't watch rep tour.. Also they don't have a problem if it's all part of the act or for MV. I mean they might oll eyes but doesn't bother them that much.. Also they don't follow her a lot so theg don't know a lot of stuff and they are also not that interested in finding out .

As far as her lyrics are concerned.. Most of us are ESL and our parents are even less fluent in English even though they can understand it very well. They won't understand slang.. So unless it's spelled out the lyrics won't bother them. And taylor's lyrics are very clever and never blatantly sexy. So it's considered to be done very tastefully.

In short the whole thing that appeals to us is that being beautiful and sexy without trying too hard.. I only going to give you a sneak you have to imagine everything else is mad sexy. Like someone said folklore in streets and rep in sheets is an appealing thing😂😂

It's complex I can't spell for all asians because we are very culturally different depending on the country.. But overall the main thing is her being smart, kind and humble (this is true for most Asian countries)

Smart is very important because she is not the best vocalist right (decent but not ari Or adele type) .. So my mom would always tell how she was still successful despite not having a strong voice for a singer because she worked hard, used all the talents she had, was super smart. So that is super aspirational that she wasn't naturally gifted in regards to the main thing in her profession i.e. voice but still manged to become The Taylor Swift.

Also she seems very professional..never acted like spoilt brat and was not caught doing drugs or substance abuse..That is also considered a good trait for a celeb.🤷‍♀️ that why K Pop stars have such tight PRs

thank you for all this extra detail and context! and yes, definitely worth mentioning that obviously every country has its own culture and this is a broad generalization for the sake of discussion.

the kpop comparison is a great one to make. i was into kpop yeeeears ago and know how tightly their public personas are controlled, and how much effort goes into maintaining a trusted relationship with their fans... it's no wonder taylor would fit into that kind of celeb culture.

[justamedaordinarywomanbutfunlife]

life always changes

hi i am just ameda. ameda (rhymes with anita) for those that do not know how to say it. yes i’m writing in all lower case font. why you ask? well because i’ve always been one that didn’t mind going against the grain as long as it didn’t harm or maim another person. i just now deleted the previous writings i had on here because it only covered a part of my ordinary yet fun life. so lets start at the beginning. people been telling me for years i should write a book. but in the world of technology why do that when i can just give them a free blog to read if they want to know about me right? 

so i was born in kentucky and currently reside in minneapolis, minnesota. had a pretty ordinary childhood in my opinion as a lot of childhoods went through the 80s. I experienced life at the very beginning of 1980. so the 80s were my introduction to life. my parents divorced when i was 7 years old. which in the 80s a child having divorced parents was very normal. my mom was the daughter of a coal miner from eastern kentucky. my dad came from a fairly average family out of western kentucky. both of my parents were mixed raced even though they looked white my father is still living and 72 years old. my mom passed away at age 54 unexpectedly in 2014.  They both grew up with parents that were inter-racially married. this piece i’m writing is to give you a basic overview of my life. i was an average ordinary student in school. would miss a lot of recesses by 4th grade because i would social with my classmates during class when bored with a subject the teacher was trying to teach us. by middle school i had upped that to being a bit of a class clown and that carried me through high school. i never got suspended or expelled from school but i still acted up. got married 2 weeks after i turned 18. divorced by age 31. remarried again at 33 and left him 3 months after we married him in 2013. that covers the ordinary basic stuff. naturally there are unique stories that happened along the way and even now that i will try to fill in as i remember them. not sure if i can keep them in chronological order but good stories and bad ones are ones that people that know me say i should write down. 

so first unique story that comes to mind about my life. both of my parents were musicians but not famous or well known. dad was also a preacher. he didn’t paid like you imagine preachers do. we grew up on welfare. my mom was the youngest of 8 kids but she was a twin. her and her twin brother bobby were the last of my maternal grandparents 2 kids. in 1986 (i was not there when this happened and neither was my parents) my mom’s twin brother, bobby was shot and killed. now i have never gotten the full story of why. family back in eastern kentucky nearly 20 years later said that it was because he was physically assaulting my grandmother in the kitchen and my grandfather couldn’t take it anymore. the other story was that my grandfather and my mom’s twin brother were arguing over a can of beer. my grandfather was an alcoholic. us grandkids grew up knowing this about him but we loved him so much even if he seemed grumpy a lot. you grew to understand that under the grumpiness was a very loving man. either story that you choose to believe about why mom’s brother was shot and killed doesn’t change the fact that my own grandfather purposely shot him at point blank range in a fit of pent of anger over a wayward son. this set off a set of events with my mom. prior to this event i remember things about my mom and my dad (they divorced a year later in 1987) that are like just little puzzle pieces. I remember at my uncle bobby’s funeral (mom’s twin brother) that was the first time i  have a vivid memory of mom smoking a cigarette in the lounge area of the funeral home. hey it was 1986 so all the no smoking rules and laws we have now in the united states did not exist back then. i vividly remembering being so shocked to see my mama smoking a cigarette when i knew that was usually something i would see my dad doing. dad also would switch between skoal snuff and twisted type of chewing tobacco. to say my dad was a nicotine lover is not an embellishment. he’s 72 and still enjoys his nicotine.

 but it was around this time that mentally and emotionally i noticed my mom just at times just didn’t enjoy life much. she left my dad and chose to leave us with him instead of taking us with her. where she went when she left my dad i do not remember. I vaguely remember being with her at a women’s abuse shelter but can’t remember the details. it was at this time i remember she tried to commit suicide by taking to many pills of some kind. one afternoon i walked in from school to see my dad over her on the bed choking her out of anger that she was trying to commit suicide and her begging him to please kill her. i don't remember if i screamed or what but seeing me standing in the door way got my dad’s attention and he stormed out of the house to go call the ambulance for my mom. i sat stunned and scared by what I had just seen of my dad choking my mom and immediately took up post on my mom’s lap as we waited for dad to return and ambulance. i remember being so scared for my mom but also wondering how in the world could daddy be that mad that he would try to kill my mama! so he walked in and told my mom he had called the ambulance and she was going to go to the hospital. she verbally refused but did not make me get off her lap. my dad ordered me off her lap and for the first time in my 6 years on earth i told my dad NO!  the flash of anger i saw come across his face as he heard me refuse a direct order from him was scary to watch. now why he didn’t snatch me off my mom’s lap and spank me hard for disobeying his order i will never know. but i was determined that my body was gonna protect mama from daddy and the bad ambulance people. i had already decided that these strange people dad kept saying was coming was scary bad people like my dad was at this currently moment. so it caught me off guard that my dad was so angry at my mom for trying to kill herself and at me for defying his order that i get off her lap where i thought by me sitting on her lap i would be able to make the EMTs and paramedics not touch my mama. but dad was mad at both of us and he waited outside. when they arrived i noticed a familiar face. it was my 1st grade year best friend across the street’s dad was in the ambulance. i had forgotten he was paramedic. he was also a news paper photographer, a part time police officer and i think he worked part time security at the hospital too. so my dad in his anger let my best friend at the time’s dad come in the house to talk to me and explain things and get me off my mom’s lap so that they could attend to her. his name was ray austin. ray was a 6 and half feet talk black man but a very calm and soothing man to me at that time. all i know was ray was the only one i could and would listen to. they loaded mom up in the ambulance and i think went over to my best friend’s house for the evening. i don’t remember the details after that. later on i remember my dad taking us to the hospital were mom was at and helping her eat the hospital food they would give her. what i didn’t know til after i was a grown adult was that she spent 2 months in the psychiatric unit. i just remember being at best friend’s house, then my aunt wanda’s house (mom’s sister who is a year older than mom and red headed like me) and then my grandparents house and then finally home with daddy. which once i got over the shock of my dad choking my mom (that image has never left my mind even at 42 years old) with my daddy was where i wanted to be more than anything. i was a dadd’s girl. what i didn’t realize at that time was my dad suffered from depression as well but his didn’t get displayed in crying and taking pills to kill himself. his depression was anger. sometimes it was uncontrolled anger. but i still loved my daddy and would often just want to sit on his lap and be held when watching tv or eating. what i do remember is that my dad even with being newly separated and the primary parent of me and my brother he never complained about being stuck with us kid. he never begged family to babysit or treated us like he didn’t want us around. it would be years before i was able to see that he knew mama either couldn’t or wouldn’t show us the love that a child craves from parent and he tried really hard to do that for us. but he had his issues too. ok i will stop there and pick up on another blog entry again soon. 

#introduction #life #families #abuse #domestic violent relationships #childhood #kentucky

[mzminola]

Community

Straight and cisgender people being part of the broader queer community is good in a variety of ways, and the example from my own life is growing up queer in a small town with parents who were supportive before either they or I knew I was queer.

My mom and dad grew up in Berkeley CA and were involved through their youths in a variety of extremely nerdy things like the Society of Creative Anachronism, Dungeons & Dragons (and a Star Trek inspired sci-fi variation), theater, etc. Within those groups, and other parts of their lives, they had a lot of queer friends.

They moved around a lot as adults, and this was the pre-internet era so staying in touch was harder, and even when they stayed in touch they didn’t necessarily see people in person much. I wound up growing up in a small liberal town in western WA. Statistically, due to the small population, I just did not know any out queer adults in my hometown when I was growing up. There was no GSA at the school, either.

But for years I had stories of queer adults, long before I ever knew I needed them. I never once worried my parents wouldn’t accept my bisexuality, because I was so very used to my parents talking about queer friends of theirs who were giant nerds, with the exact same fondness and nostalgia as all their other friends. Stories of queer-specific shenanigans were told alongside all the other shenanigans.

We had semaphore flags in the costume playtime box because Dad’s a nautical history nerd, and we had big motorcycle goggles designed to fit over chunky glasses because Mom used to catch rides around the Bay Area with lesbian biker friends. That blend and casualness was just a normal part of my childhood.

~

I learned from stories of my parents’ friends that you could take stereotypes and turn them into in-jokes; gay friends playing backyard baseball or catch or other sports totally flubbing a throw, and heckling each other with “What’s the matter honey, your wrists too limp?”

~

I learned about the AIDS epidemic, of the loss, the grief, the stigma, and of the ways people fought back. Supported each other. I learned a lot more when I was older from queer adult survivors of the epidemic online, but I learned first from my parents, who were still grieving friends they lost.

This was not distant history, this was not something that happened to “other people” this was something that happened to their community.

~

My father’s mother’s brother is gay. My great uncle. He raises tropical birds. When he was a much younger man than he is now, the signaling style of wearing a diamond earring in one ear was starting. Now, at the time, most men to wear a diamond earring as a signal of their sexuality wore very small, discreet flecks. Just this little flash of light that might catch your eye, that might make you look again.

Great Uncle inherited his mother’s engagement ring, took that honking big “look at me and admire how I got engaged! Look at me, look at me!” diamond to the jeweler, and got that sucker turned into an earring. You could not fucking miss it.

And you know what? That’s how I learned about queer signaling as a thing people could do, it was presented as a fun family story, and I wouldn’t have heard it if not for my parents, because Great Uncle lives in a completely different part of the country from us and doesn’t travel much, so I’ve only met him twice, during which everyone was catching up on current life, not stories of his youth.

~

When my mom, dad, and their friends were all young adults who’d recently left home and were living in a different state from their families, one of their friends was a butch gay man who’d recently come out to his parents. And his mom wanted to be supportive, and she was a person who sewed clothes herself. So she made him shirts. She had his measurements, and she’d regularly mail him care packages with beautifully hand-made button up shirts in pink and purple fabrics. Because those were the gay colors at the time, and she wanted to make sure he knew she supported everything about him, that she would never want him to change himself to fit in society’s mold.

Now the thing was, pink and purple were not actually to his taste. They were not colors he’d normally pick out for himself. But he and his parents didn't live in the same state anymore, this was pre-Internet, if you wanted to share photos you had to take them, develop the film, and mail them. So she wasn’t seeing his style regularly, she was seeing the style of the out gay men back in the Bay Area, and doing her best.

He wore the shirts. He was running around the Oregon countryside as a butch gay man in the early 1980’s in pink and purple button ups, because his mom made them for him with love, he loved her too.

So I heard this story growing up, and I learned from it. I learned parents could love and wholly support their queer children long before I ever heard about parents who rejected theirs. I learned love is in the actions we take. That it’s going to be imperfect, but what matters is we’re trying our best, and accepting that from each other.

~

I’m bisexual, and I’ve got some weird gender stuff going on. I did not know any out queer adults in my hometown growing up. I did not find any writings until the early 2000’s when the Internet became more accessible. My school did not have a GSA.

But I knew I wasn’t alone. I knew pieces of west coast queer culture and history. I knew queer people could be giant nerds, could be outdoorsy, could be silly and serious and fully rounded people with rich, wonderful lives. That their friends and family could accept them wholly without hesitation. Because what was there to hesitate over?

I’ve said before my hometown is liberal, and it is, but it still had enough prejudice to keep me semi-closeted as a teen. I had peers insist to me that “a child needs a mother and a father”, had adults insist civil unions were fine but marriage equality would violate religious freedoms, heard peers use “gay” as an insult from late elementary school onwards (and the teachers just ignoring it).

I needed all those stories from my childhood. I needed them. And I had them. Without ever having to ask.

And my brother had them too. He’s straight and cisgender, and he has never been anything but 100% supportive of me. He was arguing for equal rights and refusing to use the derogatory language peers were before I ever came out to him.

When I see people trying to gatekeep the queer community, this is what I think of. I think of being a kid in a small town, without knowing any local out queer adults, hearing people around me say bigoted things, but having all these stories burning in the hearth of my heart, and I think…

You want to douse that flame?

You want to reach back in time and wrench those stories from the child I was?

You’d rather I grow up isolated, confused, lonely, and scared, than have my straight, cisgender parents in the queer community? You want me to be isolated now, you want my brother to abandon me?

Really?

Identity and community are intertwined, but they are not rigid, nor should they be.

Community being broader is good.

#long post #queer tag #queer community #AIDS mention #fuck gatekeeping #Min and their entire family are all giant nerds #my dad's family just does NOT do subtle #this essay has been in the works for a while now #Min writes stuff #edited to change the last sentence from #community being the broader of the two is good #to just #community being broader is good

[ramshackledtrickster]

Oof ok I’ll get to posting a drawing later today I swear but WOW a I loved turning red so much

If I had a nickel for every movie to come out of Disney (it’s an umbrella Corp so I’m wording it like this) to tackle generational trauma in POC families,,, I’d have two nickels! Which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice.

But yeah turning red is AMAZING and back to back with Encanto it’s,, so good. Honestly some things hit harder for me in turning red though since it’s a Chinese family in America (Which hey!! Me too!!) and the mother and daughter’s relationship is like. So immediate and so nuanced and ugh theres so much to gush about.

It got me thinking abt the symbolism and metaphor of the red panda in the movie and of course it’s about embracing yourself and puberty and growing up but I couldn’t help but read some cultural ideas into it.

Some spoilers under the cut while I explain myself!!

So the red panda is abt embracing your emotions and your true self yea?? But I also really think it’s abt your cultural ties and heritage too. When Chinese immigrants came to America and Canada, there was still a lot of stigma (same could be said for other immigrants from other ethnicities and cultures too bc xenophobia was and still is very strong— lots of relatability across the board here I think) so those first generation immigrants almost always hid away signifiers for their cultures. For Chinese, it was language, food, writing, articles of clothing, etc— and people still judge us to this day for language appearance food clothes the way we express love— all things culturally embedded and hard to understand for westerners (especially the love part). So sealing away the panda is essentially a form of assimilation into western culture and western expectations— it’s no longer an inconvenience.

That’s a huge conflict of the movie within Meilin— she wants to be herself but she feels like embracing her culture and tradition and embracing her friends+Canadian middle school culture is mutually exclusive when that really isn’t the case. She is just as valid and true to herself when she embraces both and all aspects of her (that’s another thing that makes the climax with the Cantonese chanting and the boyband music so good like,,, the meshing. And that harmony is what is truly coming from the heart. Mwah). And showing her embrace something her family has hidden away out of fear of judgement is just,, it hits. And it made her ancestor Sun Yee proud. Look at her smile in the final scene, she’s so happy to see her descendant be unapologetic for her Panda and unapologetically be herself. I’m proud of her too.

Of course the panda can take on multiple metaphorical meanings, and you don’t have to read this deep into it, but it’s something that struck a chord with me especially. I grew up in China, and I’m half Chinese (mom’s Chinese, dad’s white), but I can’t tear myself from my culture while I live in America. And I get defensive. My culture is beautiful, and I’m glad I could make my own way in america and like the things I like while keeping this close to my heart. There’s something to be said about how the previous generations had to hide it the most and keep it private since people weren’t as accepting back then, and Chinese people were often made scapegoats if they weren’t of service in one way or another (see yellow peril). But in the newer generations, there’s definitely a boldness and pushback to say hey I’m here. I’m here because of my family’s sacrifices and I’m here despite how they may worry for me and what others may think of me.

My mother tells me because I have some white features, I should say I’m European of some kind so people won’t hate me for being half Chinese. I can’t help it and I can’t hide it, and if people don’t like it and only want to exploit it, then tough. I think my ancestors would be proud of me too for trying to keep my culture close in this fast paced, changing (rapidly degrading) world.

I know I went on a bit of a tangent, but yeah! Those are some of my readings of the Red Panda metaphor based off my own experiences n my family history. The metaphor can mean many, MANY things, but hey why not offer a lil bit of my own insight.

LOVED this movie!!

#turning red #pixar #personal?? #racism mention

[eatersgrin]

Deviant

The stretch car that dared to arrive at the small warzone of the adult theater was no plush limousine, it was just a basic lengthened sedan with tinted windows. Inside Bakuda and Petit settled into a rather normal car interior with a nervous driver.

Bakuda switched her voice filter off and her strangely accented voice was muffled by her gas mask, "So, Girl, you did ehhh, okay back there. For right now, though, class is back in session. Rule four: Ya know, cringing during other people's torture gives them hope you'll break before they do. Don't do that in the future. Rule five: And Lung insists on this, because of course he does, you did your part during the task set, you've also eliminated traitors while defending The ABB. Thus you are getting tattooed, and no protesting I know you don't have any, Narco Princess."

"What about you? You do not have any tattoos, none that I have seen."

"Don't lie to me. You didn't look our first night, and you barely used your peripherals last night."

Petit narrowed her eyes at Bakuda causing the tinker to laugh, "What kind of tattoo?"

"Ohhh, no protests. Well what flavor is your poki? Where's your dad from? I know your mom is westerner."

"He is originally from Laos, grew up with mostly Hmong but he was a found child, did a lot of labor, stole food until he was strong enough he could run away. So his identity is always with the gangs."

"Great so we'll go with Lung's style then."

"I do not have the shoulders let alone the torso for that much dragon."

Bakuda gave a lengthy dramatic sigh, "Look Yakuza tats involve a scene from your life, typically. Or something symbolic, besides you want to be able to let a jacket or coat slide down your shoulders and then they get that reveal of your back tat. First, it's sexy as hell, second it says you are not a stranger to pain, and third you're part of the organization."

Petit nodded at her points, "I thought you were raised much as the western white girls. How do you know this?"

"I was indeed, and like any western half white girl taking up too much of her daddy's money", she pulled a smartphone from one of her costume's utility pockets. "I have the internet in my pocket."

Petit's light scowl broke like a dam, laughter filled the back of the car.

^•v•^

"Isn't it Spring? Why are the days so fahkin' *hic* So fahkin' long?" Bakuda leaned on Petit as the girls exited the stretch car.

"Ow ow ow, you are pushing on it", Petit winced as she retrieved her keyfob from Bakuda's pockets and clicked open the sliding wall.

"Don't be a baby, just get me inside. You - you, cuckquean."

Standing at the wall entrance was Taiko with a sawed off shotgun in hand, "Ahh, we didn't think you'd all be coming back so soon after you all left." The man put the weapon down in a grease coated plastic bucket and took Bakuda's other arm.

"Aww, they missed us protectin' 'em. That's such a cute widdle gun, didya husband get it fer ya purse?" Bakuda brayed with laughter, her suit's voice filter still shut off.

"She's wasted enough she could accidentally get run over a few times", Taiko joked, quietly.

"She would probably pull out an airbag grenade, the things I have seen this woman do. Let us just get her to bed", Petit steered the drunk tinker and the mechanic towards the stairs.

"I'm just saying, we got a Hummer in today. Tires muy grande, the offer is there."

"To bed", she insisted with a wince as Bakuda stumbled and dug into her back to hold herself up.

Petit hesitated at the entrance to their quarters. She didn't know how Bakuda slept, her bed was always made, and was always up early despite Tinkering late and going to Lung after. Taiko took the lead and started heading for Lung's bedroom but the drunk struggled, "No no, he's not coming back tonight. Jus' leave me on the floor with the trash can."

Taiko pulled away from Bakuda and all her weight transferred to Petit's shoulder, "Nngh, shit - why?"

"Oh, my bad, LT said drop her, I drop her. Orders is orders."

She was quickly growing wary of the non-capes in the ABB. No respect for this woman's power or even for the rank itself, just malicious compliance and contempt.

"Well this LT is asking for assistance getting that LT to bed."

"Alright, cuz it's you asking", the duo moved the tinker to her bed and Taiko placed her empty waste bin by her bed near her head. "Seriously, you could probably throw her across the room if you wanted, Girl."

She stared cooly at Taiko then gave the mechanic her back. Her clear plastic jacket let the work on her back tattoo show. The skin was inflamed and red around the borders of the line work. Long outlines of what will once be blue flowing water with the outline of a dragon's body atop it running from below her right hip trailing up over her shoulder, the dragon's head missing for now.

"Whoa, how long were you two out there to get all that done?"

"Long enough for a self professed college alcoholic to get sloppy drunk, apparently."

Taiko approached closer to take a better look, "It's a snake?"

"No, Chinese dragon. The head, feet and claws will come in later. Tomorrow, Bakuda says. Costume work by day, Tattoo by night. She says he makes all his new recruits get something done", she spoke over her shoulder.

Taiko choked on his own spit and cleared his throat, "No, no, traviesa here is fucking with you. That's not a rule. Nacho has some but they're like car logo shit, girlies posed, that sorta thing. But you got played by borracha there."

Petit's face betrayed the stress of hiding her pain, "It really hurt-hurts but I have it... and I like it. So, I-I will keep it."

"But you'll get her back?"

"Yes, most definitely. Uhh, if Ignacio has any kind of topical ointment or cream or I do not know, Ice? I would be grateful."

Taiko stepped closer behind her, "How grateful?"

This isn't what she's here for.

"Nevermind, I will be fine", she said as she walked past Taiko, towards the entrance to Lung's room.

"He's not here tonight... he wouldn't know", he called after her.

A fraction of an inch before the door was entirely shut, she paused. Why was she running from this moment? Yes, she showed weakness, vulnerability, shared a part of herself because she was proud of what she did despite the pain. So this needled her more than the inking of her body because she'd been trained and conditioned not to interfere with Boss's men.

Then there was Lung taking her identity, Bakuda calling her whatever, eight dead because they thought she was below them. Now Taiko, the mechanic, and defender of his brother. He put her in this position where he felt his value to the organization gave him special privileges and consideration. And Bakuda was just passed out on her bed with Taiko rejected and already upset with her.

This isn't what she's here for.

She opened the door and found the man standing a few paces away, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Taiko?"

"Yeah?"

"I am courteous with you because we work together and I appreciate your work. But do not confuse courtesy and politeness for weakness. I chose who I take to bed, no one else. Betray our trust again and Lung's only involvement in your punishment will be ordering your brother to mop up the remains. Now get out."

Petit pointed to the exit to the quarters, slowly he backed away and departed down the stairs noisily. She grabbed the sheet off Lung's bed and a pillow and placed them on the floor near Bakuda's bed.

She went to the door of their quarters and shut it before switching off the lights.

^•v•^

The candles that lined the walls gave a warm glow to the tattoo parlor, and any amount of heat was welcome as Petit topless face down on the floor as the artist rapidly tapped the needle across the skin of her back. Bakuda sat in a chair a few feet from her head, still armored but her head hung, still not recovered from the previous night's drinking.

"You really need to pick a name, a theme, something before Saturday. I mean the suit is black cuz it's that caustic resistant material so it's basically base coated for whatever colors or patterns you have in mind. Under that is some fine chain mail style nanotube shit I layer under my own gear for shrapnel that's going at my joints. I can make you a mask out of it, gloves, booties, any other shit like a utility belt too. Just give me something, even a basic idea", Bakuda uncharacteristically begged.

"I have to admit your gear is exceptionally functional, and very intimidating while also getting your personality across. So I trust you to execute it once I get an idea, I promise."

"You think this place has some naproxen, Jesus. Ugggh, which reminds me. Why'd I wake up to you sleeping near my puke bucket? Just cuz I went to college does not mean I experiment, or at least still experiment. I played Jade Empire as a kid, Lung is not getting the swcry three-way romance ending before the big fight."

Petit could feel Bakuda pointing at her accusingly, "You were fairly out of it and we do not need you choking on your own vomit or breaking your neck going down the stairs before Saturday. After that is a different story."

"Now don't get chummy with me. I still wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire."

"If I was on fire I would give you our first and last hug."

"Oh ho, Maneki Neko got claws. Oh!"

"No."

"Shit, a black cat. It would work. You got a tail and everything. Cat's even spray!"

Petit could here the tinker pecking at her smartphone's screen.

"Oh, boy cats spray hormones to mark territory."

"I melt concrete, cars, and people."

"And it all smells like shit afterwards, oh, Polecat! Skunk!."

"Been one, got ran over by a car."

She heard the scrape of Bakuda's chair scooting forward, "Oh you gotta tell me about that."

"It is what I was in the PRT hospital for, did Lung tell you nothing about me?"

"I found out your name during sex so that's what I got out of him, Junior."

"Junior? Oh, because my name means…? Yes, I suppose I am a Junior."

"Alright, uhh, we can call you Moufette."

"No, that is still skunk."

"Moufette Rayée?"

"Stop you're butchering my Mother's tongue… oh I see. Moufette Rayée, Striped Skunk. Stripe is good."

"You'll take Stripe but not Polecat?"

"I am not a cat. Stripe like they paint on the cat in the cartoons, Pepe LePew's unrequited love."

"Alright, so skunk outfit but named Stripe. That's - that's what's happening here?"

"You tricked me into this tattoo, so you will be known as the maker of my suit. You will be in league with Stripe, whom everyone will call the skunk woman. Yes, I like this form retribution. Now pass me my gas tank."

Bakuda shoved the tank over with her boot towards Petit and it toppled. She reached out blindly and grabbed the mask tethered to the tank and took a lungful.

"Say, Junior, what if I built that into your costume. The lower half of your face will be covered like mine but with like a rebreather system that mixes in your painkillers. We'll find a supplier to get us quantities of the gas and I can make you cartridges you can swap on the fly?"

Petit considered it, "That sounds both useful and also like a kindess. You will be building bombs into all these things to pop my head one day?"

"I plead the fifth amendment on that, but let's just say I've booby trapped someone's tapioca tea pellets."

"I actually feel better knowing you have probably done that."

Bakuda snorted, "Great, great, just swell we're a Dragon guy, Demon dude, Bomb Babe, and a Stank Skunk. We're gonna be the KISS of cape crime."

"Kiss?"

"Oh piss off, learn to America. Like it or not it's you're home now, Girl."

The realization hit Petit like two tons of feathers. She was stuck here. There was no going back to Asia or Europe, even parts of Africa were under Sinopetrol Corp's sphere of influence. So long as her Fa- Boss Siyavong lived, she was not entirely safe even here with Lung.

"Yes, you are - right."

She could hear Bakuda strike her helmet with her gauntlet, "Quit that. I'm just being a cunt for having a hangover. Stop being so fuckin' polite. It'll get you eaten alive. If you know anything about The East Coast it has some of the nastiest criminals let alone capes and it's the location of the original thirteen British colonies. It only took twenty percent of the colonists to rebel against England, and win. So now you got the USA. Land of the free, home of the Whopper."

Petit stifled a laugh and winced as the artist gave her an extra hard stab of the needle for it.

"Oh no, this is not a bonding moment, I just don't want to stand shoulder to shoulder with someone who cries in the parking lot at TD Garden for being called a commie bitch."

"Thank you for all the lessons, and for being a very credible threat."

"You're welcome… wait what?"

Petit lifted her head off the ground and laid it down on the other cheek, "Its said that one can find their measure by the quality of their foes. So I thank you for making me your enemy."

#parahumans #worm #digital art #fanfic #fanart #bakuda #shepherd Of Fire

[tw-koreanhistory]

By Joyce Xi, Opinion contributor

In response to horrific attacks against Asian Americans across the country, the Biden administration has announced a new initiative to combat anti-Asian violence, xenophobia and bias. Days later, a federal court denied my family recourse for the anti-Asian violence and xenophobia the Obama-Biden administration subjected us to several years ago, when the Justice Department and FBI falsely accused my father of sending sensitive technology to China and treated him as a Chinese spy.

Mainstream narratives around anti-Asian violence have often overlooked a simple fact: The same federal government that recently expressed sympathy for Asian American communities has long perpetuated harm against our communities, and continues to do so.

As the country moves from righteous outrage toward the longer-term work of protecting our communities, we must also look at the bigger picture. Truly combating anti-Asian racism will require addressing the government’s role in it.

An ongoing nightmare

In 2015, the FBI raided my family’s home one morning, woke us up at gunpoint and dragged my dad, Xiaoxing Xi, away in handcuffs in front of my mom, sister and me. We were confused and terrified. Later, we found out that the Justice Department was accusing my father of illegally sending sensitive technology to China. They threatened him with 80 years in prison and $1 million in fines.

After the Justice Department publicized its charges against my father, newscasters surrounded our home and tried to film through windows to get a glimpse of our family. The FBI rummaged through all our belongings and carried off electronics and documents containing many private details of our lives. For months, we lived in fear of FBI intimidation and surveillance. We worried about our safety in public, given that my dad’s face was plastered all over the news. My dad was unable to work, and his reputation was shattered.

The government’s accusations were entirely false, and based on emails about academic collaboration between my dad and his colleagues that had nothing to do with the technology the government claimed. Eventually, the Justice Department dropped the case, but not before leaving us traumatized and saddled with enormous legal fees. To this day, we carry many scars from our experience. The government has never explained why it got things so wrong.

These were anti-Asian acts at the hands of the U.S. government. My dad, an American physics professor, is nothing close to a spy. He does not even work on sensitive research. Yet prosecutors recklessly charged him with crimes based on his Chinese heritage, as part of a broader effort to crack down on China and its supposed spies. Without legitimate evidence, the government was able to deploy its powerful national security apparatus against us, including intrusive and secretive surveillance under the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act. In the process, it upended a family. We pursued a civil rights lawsuit to seek some semblance of justice, but now our legal claims for damages have been dismissed.

History of racial profiling

The unjust prosecution of my father was not an isolated incident, but one of several targeting Chinese American scientists. People like Wen Ho Lee and Sherry Chen, among others, have been painted as spies and had their lives turned upside down, only to have their cases dropped by the government.

Under Donald Trump, this problem grew more pernicious. FBI Director Christopher Wray publicly doubled down, casting students and researchers of Chinese descent as potential spies and stating that the FBI views China “not just a whole-of-government threat but a whole-of-society threat,” requiring a “whole-of-society response.” Trump’s Justice Department launched the China Initiative in 2018 to target these supposed spies. Many more individuals and families have already been impacted.

The Biden administration has continued this initiative, despite civil rights groups’ calls to end it.

While there are legitimate concerns regarding the Chinese government, there is a major human cost to casting suspicion on entire communities based on national origin. The FBI’s record of racial, ethnic and religious profiling has left a devastating trail, including in Muslim, Black and Indigenous communities. As anti-Asian — particularly anti-China — sentiment and bias continue to grow, I fear the U.S. government will cause many more people to experience what my family did, especially if there is no opportunity to challenge the government’s wrongdoing in court.

The government’s scapegoating of people like my father is part of a broader history of anti-Asian violence and xenophobia. Asian communities in America have long been viewed as perpetual foreigners and national security threats, dating to the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 and the Immigration Act of 1917, which barred people from China and the Asia-Pacific region from immigrating to the United States for decades.

During World War II, the government infamously incarcerated 112,000 Japanese Americans in the name of national security. The United States has promoted wars and militarization in places like the Philippines, Korea, Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos that have dehumanized Asian people in the public imagination, and that have killed, traumatized and displaced many.

Now, the U.S. government is deporting Southeast Asian refugees who fled these wars. After 9/11, law enforcement vastly expanded its surveillance, harassment and criminalization of Muslim, Arab and South Asian communities, discriminating against them in the name of national security. And when COVID-19 hit, Trump resorted to blatant racism, calling it the “China virus” and “kung flu.”

Against this backdrop, countless Asians in America have been subject to violence and vitriol. The recent anti-Asian attacks have various causes, but with the government’s own xenophobic actions and rhetoric, it is no surprise these assaults on our communities have been widespread.

Like many, I worry for myself, friends and family amidst these hyper-visible attacks. But I take no comfort in the federal government saying it will protect Asian Americans by increasing the power of the very agencies that helped create conditions for violence. To meaningfully address anti-Asian violence, the U.S. government must end its own racist policies and account for past wrongdoing. And my family will be appealing the court’s dismissal of our claims. We will continue to fight to end racialized targeting of our communities.

Joyce Xi is the daughter of Xiaoxing Xi, a Chinese American scientist who was wrongfully prosecuted by the U.S. government.

it’s good asian americans are speaking out about this especially now with the biden regime that will continue and expand obama’s mass surveillance and spying on asian americans.

but wtf? in the middle of this op-ed, usatoday injects a link to a story that’s not even related...

fucking usatoday anti-asian anti-china bullshit. wtf?

seriously wtf usatoday? fucking US media. fuckers. do you know how fucking insidious US western media is? fuckers.

#usa #hate #racism #fuckers

[artpastmidnight]

I posted 709 times in 2021

94 posts created (13%)

615 posts reblogged (87%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 6.5 posts.

I added 195 tags in 2021

#personal - 37 posts

#bucky barnes - 23 posts

#asexuality - 22 posts

#my art - 21 posts

#i came out to have a good time and i'm honestly feeling so attacked right now - 18 posts

#chronically ill artist - 18 posts

#mmm love it here - 16 posts

#art: the struggle is real - 15 posts

#trauma - 13 posts

#chronic pain - 12 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#ok but cellphone charms kinda come from the samurai putting 根付('netsuke'=charms) on their swords so this is actually recycling the trend!

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

i wish we could've watched The Falcon and Winter Soldier Finale in theaters because i KNOW the theater would've lost their shit the way we did when steve caught mjolnir when sam showed up as the NEW CAPTAIN AMERICA

What a great moment for Anthony Mackie,

I hope u heard us cheering, ✨KING✨

59 notes • Posted 2021-04-23 09:15:28 GMT

#4

does anybody else get their whole body sore the day after an extreme panic attack kinda like they have a fever, or is it just me?

65 notes • Posted 2021-07-05 02:15:28 GMT

#3

i watched the part in the mandalorian s2 where mando finally learned grogu’s name and he just keeps calling him and laughing softly to himself when grogu reacts and then gets so excited grogu can use the force that he curses to himself cuz he’s so fucking thrilled his son can use his powers and grogu gets scared because he noticed his dad cursed and mando’s like “no, i’m not mad at you” and he just looks admiringly at grogu saying “you’re really special, kid” with so much feeling on a loop last night because it’s just so damn ADORABLE.

like toxic masculinity??? i don’t know her

104 notes • Posted 2021-01-03 02:56:45 GMT

#2

Being brought over to the US from Japan at the age of 5 was detrimental to my self image. In Japan, I was treated as a ‘cute child’ (meaning ‘a normal kid’) but when I was brought over to the states, I was bullied constantly for having a “flat face”, “short, disgusting legs”, etc…
 Always being compared to impossible white beauty standards, I grew up to have a LOT of internalized racism towards my looks. (I am still working very hard with many issues of “straddling two worlds🇯🇵🇺🇸” with my therapist)

However, on my trip to Kyoto this time, my Mom wanted me to do a ‘maiko (geisha apprentice) transformation photoshoot’. 
I was reluctant about it because I hate seeing myself in pictures, and I didn’t want to do something so touristy. 
But, since I sometimes draw geisha/maiko for thank you cards, I thought I could get some pose references or insight into how things would move.

This was a blessing in disguise because for the first time in my life, it made me look at myself completely outside western beauty standards.
 I was looking at myself for what I am: a Japanese woman. Although I knew it in my head, it *FINALLY* CLICKED THAT I WAS ALWAYS STRIVING TO BE SOMETHING THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO ACHIEVE, BECAUSE I AM NOT WHITE.

so to all the people that bullied me and convinced me I was ugly and therefore worthless because I couldn’t fit into your beauty standards, i say…

FUCK YOU, I’M GORGEOUS!

127 notes • Posted 2021-10-29 16:16:43 GMT

#1

signal boosts are deeply appreciated🥺

hey, i know we’re ALL struggling so i know it’s a hard time to ask, but my lil sis is getting married and i’m really sad i can’t get anything for her bc i’m disabled and unemployed. basically the only thing i can do is draw. i don’t do shippy art, but i can do face closeups pretty well (stylized or not) for like, icons and stuff. i think i’ll only do faces/bust ups for speed’s sake this time.

would commissioning me be something ANYONE would be interested in? and yes, i am temporarily lifting my ban on spn commissions. PLEASE SEND ME AN ASK IF YOU’RE INTERESTED 🖤

here are some samples of what i’ve done over the years in no particular order:

please click on the image if it’s blurry.

thanks again for considering 🖤

411 notes • Posted 2021-07-07 21:51:43 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #none of my art posts made it in the top 5… #i really bombed this year :’( #this year i spent a LOT of days in bed from excruciating migraines where i was praying for death #i hope i have enough good days so i can create more next year

[sokkasangel]

teach me

»»——— sokka x f!reader

»»——— part one

summary: as the gaang is travelling through a fire nation-infested earth kingdom village, they meet the reader — a servant — who takes a special interest in sokka.

warnings: none

word count: 1.3k

a/n: this is my first piece on this blog; i hope you enjoy reading! the second part will be up soon! <3 ella

»»——— masterlist

“let’s stop here.” katara pointed past appa’s dangling feet. “we need some more food.”

“you sure?” sokka opened his eyes, coming out a light nap. he peeked over the saddle, glancing at the earth kingdom town below. “it looks like there’s a lot of fire nation.”

towards the walls of the small town, sat red carts led by ostrich-horses. blobs of maroon could be seen moving through the streets periodically.

but this was no surprise. the gaang realized that most of the western earth kingdom cities would be inhabited by fire nation. whether it be small or large, military rushed into villages, taking & destroying what they wanted.

so many times, sokka & katara had to pull aang away from these places. he wanted so badly to help those in need: protect children, give food, & release taken servants.

“i think we’ll be okay. katara’s right about the food anyways,” aang chipped in, ever the optimist. he pulled on appa’s reigns, heading down to the ground.

—

after walking through the town, the gaang had a sack full of food & of course sokka bought a small totem of the town. as they made their way to the town gate, someone cried out behind them.

“hey!” you yelled as you crashed down on the dirt road.

you looked up at the man who had just thrown you out. he glanced up & down the street, waiting for fire nation guards to collect you.

“you’re not going anywhere, scum.” he crossed his arms, happy with his triumph. “i cant wait until the guards get you. i’ve been waiting for this day since my wife brought you here. i should have never allowed this.”

you got up & brushed off the dust on your clothing. you noticed that the guards had not arrived, so it was now or never. you darted for the gate, not paying attention to the civilians nearby. as you drew closer, you felt freer & freer with each step. but you suddenly hit something rock-hard.

“so you’re the fire nation traitor, huh?” you looked up at what you ran into. it was a man who stood tall, & who had a ugly look on his face. you could tell he was the chief of the guard pack behind him from his uniform.

you took some steps back. as you did, the group of soldiers in front of you drew their weapons. some had spears, while others had swords. outnumbered, you accepted your fate; however, you weren’t going to go without a fight.

your thoughts of what prison life would be life were cut short by a loud “hey! over here!”.

on your right, a group of teenagers stood. they looked ready for battle. the youngest looking, a small bald boy, yelled again. they all motioned for you to run over.

a smile bloomed on your face & you made a beeline for the group. but as you started, the chief behind you grabbed your hair.

“ouch!” you fell back with your scalp stinging. you pushed at his hand, but it was no use. he started to pull you away, not caring about tears welling in your eyes.

“watch out!” the girl of the group ran toward you with her hands extended. “sokka! grab her! make it back to appa!” the water trough on the house next to you started to rattle. all of the liquid rose out & wrapped around the girl’s hands.

a water bender? what is a water bender doing here? and who or what was appa?

with a whip of the water, the chief let go of you & spun around. before scrambling to your feet, you glanced at your savior. she had long dark hair, blue eyes, & a water tribe necklace.

the boy who had been standing next to the young kid now was helping you to your feet. nothing he was saying was registering to you. he looked like the girl, & you supposed they were related.

rolling his eyes, he grabbed your hand & started running. you looked at the guards flashing past you, who were preoccupied with the water bender & now the boy. you couldn’t tell what he was doing, but you could hear loud gushes of wind.

after a few minutes of running, the walls disappeared & trees grew taller. the boy suddenly stopped & looked around. you noticed he still had a hold of your hand. maybe it was because the air was warm or because you had just been running but you could feel your face heat up.

“appa!” he shouted. the trees to the left shook & got out of the way as a large beast came of out of the woods.

you gasped. “is that a sky-bison? i thought they were extinct.”

“yep. this is appa. don’t worry, he’s way nicer than he looks.”

he led you over to the giant fluff-ball. you held out your free hand, letting appa sniff you. after aquianting yourselves, the bison let you pet him.

“you okay?” the boy asked, averting your attention from appa.

“yeah i think so,” you smiled. “thank you for helping me.”

“of course. that’s what we do,” he smirked. “save people.”

you quirked your eyebrow, waiting for him to explain.

“oh i’m sokka by the way.” he went to extend his hand but realized it was in yours. you both let go, embarrassed.

“i’m y/n.” you didn’t look up from the ground. & you waited for your blush to subside before continuing the conversation. “what’d you mean by ‘that’s what we do’? & who’s ‘we’?”

“o-oh. well that boy back there, he’s aang. he’s actually the avatar. believe it or not.” sokka scratched the back of his head. you couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed still or uncomfortable. “me & my sister are helping him learn the elements.”

“oh wow. but you guys are so young. & you’re doing this by yourselves? that’s impressive.” sokka seemed to beam at your words. “it must be nice though, to travel everywhere.”

“yeah it’s really cool. you meet so many interesting people & see cool things. hey, uh, if you don’t mind me asking... what’s up with that mean mustache guy back there?” he pointed back towards the village with his thumb.

“oh, him? he was the guy i worked for, him & his wife. i originally lived with my family in the fire nation, but as they colonized the earth kingdom, they took people to help ‘keep earth kingdom civilians in line’.” you made air-quotes with your fingers, saying what the military had said months before. “i was brought over to live in a village, but now i’m a servant to these stupid fire nation couples.”

“so you were taken from your family?” sokka asked. his voice had gotten softer.

“yeah. in a way.” you shrugged, not wanting to dwell on it.

you now noticed how handsome sokka was. his eyes were as blue as his sister’s; some hairs had been pulled out of his wolf-tail & were now framing his face. you felt your face heat up again & pretended you were interested at the rocks near your feet.

“how about you?” you asked kicking a pebble away. “what about your family?”

“uh, well my dad is fighting in the war. & my mom... she, uh, she’s gone.”

“oh, i’m so sorry.” you put your hand on his arm & offered a sympathetic smile.

just as he was about to say something, footsteps approached you two.

“hey guys!” aang waved as he walked with sokka’s sister.

“how are you? are you okay?” the girl came up to you.

you nodded & looked to aang, wondering what was coming next. were you just going to go to the next village? go back home?

“hey, umm,” aang started. “you wanna join us? i’m sure we could use some fire nation information.” he had the biggest smile you’d ever seen.

“r-really?” your eyes widened. they wanted you to come along? “are you sure?”

“of course!” he replied. the siblings looked happy & offering also, almost as if they were waiting for someone to join.

“yeah, of course i’ll join you!” you said, maybe a little too loud.

[to be continued...]

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