#you can raise awareness without being disparaging to black people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

monabela · 3 years

Text

hey uhh..... advent denest!! this is just the first chapter, every day from now until christmas there will be a new one featuring a christmassy/wintery prompt for that day, but I won’t bother you with that here--check out the ao3 link! :D (maybe I’ll get some other chapters on here too, just to remind everyone, but I’ll think about that)

Snowfall Music

pairings/characters: Denmark (Søren)/Estonia (Eduard), mentioned Finland (Tuomi)/Sweden (Torbjörn), Sealand (Peter), Ladonia (Lars), Vietnam (Vinh), Czechia (Kveta) word count: 4782 summary: Eduard has enough to occupy him this December without having to look after his young cousins, or trying to organize events on his radio show, or having to field strange phone calls day after day, but it seems the end of the year has it out for him.

And somehow, Søren manages to brighten every dark day. Hopefully, he'll stick around for a while.

also on AO3 - further chapters posted there!

“Today on Radio 8, I have some pretty special guests on the show. Now, this was a surprise for me as well—” Eduard opens the audio channels of two of the other microphones in the studio— “but I’m excited they’re here, so welcome to my cousins, Pete—”

“Once removed,” Lars interrupts, raising his eyebrows and wrinkling his freckled nose as if he thinks Eduard is a bit dim. He probably does, come to think of it. The boy is just at that age.

“Alright,” he amends anyway, “my first cousins once removed, Peter and Lars. They’re my first cousin Tuomi’s sons. Is that better?”

“Yes,” Lars replies imperiously. Peter is rolling his eyes, and Eduard has to stifle a laugh while he turns on some background music.

“Their parents are on a trip out of town for the week, so Peter and Lars have been entrusted to Uncle Eduard for the time being—first cousin once removed Eduard, I know, Lars, but I’ll start saying that when you start calling me that.”

“I will.”

“I don’t doubt it. Why don’t you two introduce yourselves, and then you can think of a song you’d like to hear.” He prays Tuomi hasn’t managed to instill too much of his taste in music in his sons just yet, because although they’re ostensibly a rock station, he doesn’t think his listeners are quite ready for metal that heavy.

“I’m Peter,” Peter all but shouts into his microphone, so Eduard lowers his volume slightly. “I’m twelve, and I, ah, I play hockey, I guess?”

That sounds about right.

“And Lars?”

“Well, I’m Lars, I’m also twelve, and I have a podcast.”

“A podcast, really? What’s it about?”

“School and things,” he replies, and nothing else.

“That’s great,” Eduard enthuses anyway, because he does think it is. “You must be excited to visit the studio, then. Would you like to work in radio someday?”

Peter is shaking his head quite frantically and making slashing motions with both hands, but the damage is done, as Lars huffs, wrinkling his nose again and leaning in close to the microphone.

“Radio is very different from podcasts. You just talk around the music.”

Eduard blinks. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t.”

Eduard looks helplessly over at his production assistant, who seems uncharacteristically amused by the whole exchange, her eyebrows twitching ever so slightly.

“Where did you get that sass from?” He knows it must be Tuomi, unless his husband, Torbjörn, has very deeply hidden depths. And, before Lars can actually reply, “Peter, what should we listen to? What music do you like?”

Lars is opening his mouth, but Peter forestalls him, yelling, “Imagine Dragons!”

So Eduard starts a jingle as he lines up an Imagine Dragons song from the station’s playlist and an older rock song to play after that, pushing the slides for the microphone channels down. When he looks at Lars, the boy is just glancing away, attempting to seem disinterested in everything going on by crossing his arms and pressing his lips together. Eduard shakes his head fondly as he scrolls through some of the messages people have sent the show, including some asking if his cousins will help him judge his weekly dumbest pun contest, which he doesn’t imagine will benefit the already low bar for that one, so that’s perfect.

When he asks the boys about it, Lars starts to say something undoubtedly disparaging about how his podcast never has puns, but Peter quickly interrupts again. Eduard is around them enough that he knows this has been their usual behavior for the past few years, and more often than not, the brothers remind him strongly of himself and Tuomi at their age. They always were more like siblings than cousins, and when their older cousin Erzsébet was asked to babysit, she never seemed inclined to stop them.

Granted, he wasn’t doing podcasts when he was twelve, but he does remember using the house phone to call the local radio station multiple times until his parents started threatening to take the phone bill out of his allowance, and then how was he going to buy CDs? The radio show hosts actually wondered what happened to him after a couple of days without word and his parents had to call in to explain. It’s a fond if embarrassing memory.

The show continues in a slightly messier fashion than usual, mostly due to Peter’s attempts to interrupt every single sentence his brother starts to say and Lars stubbornly talking over him, but it’s fun. Eduard reminds himself to make a compilation or something to give Tuomi and Torbjörn when they get back home.

He lets Lars pick a song as well, as his afternoon show nears the end of its first hour. While the mildly surprising requested obscure progressive rock plays, he becomes aware of movement out of the corner of his eye.

Turning, Eduard huffs a laugh when he spots the sheepish-looking freckled face peering through the studio’s windowed door.

“Boys,” he says, ignoring that Lars just glares at him for daring to interrupt his very intent listening, “looks like your uncle finally showed up.”

Peter’s face lights up when he sees the man on the other side of the door, waving enthusiastically. Søren waves back, face splitting in a grin. Although he is Torbjörn’s brother and not a cousin, he doesn’t bear much more resemblance to his brother than Eduard does to Tuomi. He’s tall, but not as tall as Torbjörn is—or Eduard, for that matter—and his eyes are a darker blue pronounced by nearly-black eyebrows that don’t match his coppery hair at all. Eduard has always thought of him as not handsome necessarily, but definitely interesting, and he’d be lying if he said he minded having to look after his cousins with the man.

They’re not close, but he and Søren have spent some time together, albeit mostly when Tuomi and Torbjörn needed someone to look after their sons for a while.

Now, Peter is moving his hands in a flurry of signals Eduard can’t make much of, except that he points at him at the end, and Søren is quickly signing back, his eyebrows jumping wildly.

“He can come in, you know,” Eduard tells Peter, slightly bewildered. He ignores the annoyed look his production assistant is giving her soundboard. At least, he thinks it’s annoyed. It can be hard to tell, with Vinh.

Peter dashes to the door to let in his uncle, who ruffles the boy’s unruly blond hair, waves at Lars—who ignores him—and grins at Eduard with a sheepish edge to it.

“Hey,” he says, “thanks so much for looking after ‘em! Sorry I couldn’t get there in time. Hope they didn’t cause too much trouble for you.”

“Lars is having loads of fun,” Peter declares, then proceeds to duck out of the way when Lars throws a wad of paper at his head. Eduard shrugs at Søren.

As Lars’s song ends, a commercial break begins, and Vinh wanders away to grab some tea and probably gossip about him with the other hosts, so Eduard puts his headphones down and turns his attention fully to Søren. The man is dressed in the same leather jacket he always seems to be wearing and a T-shirt, but doesn’t appear to be cold in the slightest. He has stuck both hands into the pockets of his jacket, but he still moves them wildly when he speaks. A backpack is slung over one shoulder.

“Thanks again. I really couldn’t get out of work, so I’m glad you could take the boys to yours.”

“Of course, no problem.” Eduard pushes his glasses up. “We did have fun, right, boys?”

Predictably, the response is lackluster, since Peter and Lars are too busy swatting at each other with Eduard’s papers.

“I promise we did,” he tells Søren a little forlornly, receiving a full laugh in response, blue eyes glittering in the studio’s bright lights and crinkling up at the corners.

“One day, they’ll learn to appreciate us, Eduard.”

The dubious expression he pulls in return must be funnier than he imagined, because Søren laughs again, extracting a hand from his jacket to clasp his shoulder. He smells pleasantly like the winter air outside, and like hair gel.

“I aspire to help ‘em keep as many secrets from their parents as possible, so they’ll be forever in my debt.”

“You have to wonder if that’s worth incurring Tuomi’s wrath.” Eduard turns back to his soundboard and patches the newsreader in from another location.

“I can take Tuomi.”

“I think that’s your brother’s job.”

Søren makes a strangled sound that might be a laugh and that makes Eduard grin, shaking his head.

“Are you staying for a while? The boys have a pun contest to judge, and I’m sure my listeners would like to hear from you.”

“Sure, sounds great,” he says, his grin softening surprisingly. “I just gotta ask you to keep the background music to a minimum, if you can.” He gestures vaguely at his ear, and Eduard remembers something.

“Right, you don’t hear so well, do you?”

“Practically deaf without my hearing aids, kind of a bummer when you’re on a radio show, I imagine.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling up.

“That’s why pa taught us sign language,” Peter pipes up. “Dad is so bad at it. Uncle Søren, I’d like it if you stayed.”

“Sign language,” Eduard repeats, because of course that’s what that was, but also, how has he never realized that before now? He’s more-or-less known Søren for over fifteen years by now. “Well, I’ll watch the music. Let me know if it still bothers you.”

Vinh returns just as the short second commercial break is ending, inclines her head towards Søren, who waves and does not seem the least perturbed by her lack of outward response, and they set off on the second hour of the show. Eduard lowers the volume of the background music to nearly zero, gesturing at Vinh to leave it.

“While we were away, my first cousins’ once removed actual uncle finally showed up, after he promised he’d pick his nephews up from school—”

“Hey,” Søren interrupts, “you’re painting me in a bad light here, and I don’t appreciate it.”

“It’s the light of truth.”

Astonishingly, Lars snickers at that. He apparently doesn’t care who gets made fun of as long as it’s not him.

“Well, he’s here now, so hello, Søren. He works for the same company my cousin does, so… Is it your fault that we’re saddled with these kids now?”

“Well, I did introduce their parents to each other, so I suppose…” Søren winks at Peter, who sticks his tongue out. “Hey, Eduard, I hear these two got to pick a song to listen to. Do I get a go at that?”

Eduard laughs. “No, no. You need to do a better job of picking them up from school for that. Maybe next time. Actually, I think we’re overdue for some Christmas music. It’s December, after all!”

Peter crows triumphantly. Søren just grins, shaking his head at Eduard, who shrugs in turn, amused.

The hour goes by fairly quickly. Søren animatedly asks the boys questions about their school day during songs that even Lars answers sometimes, and Vinh doesn’t seem to mind him, which is high honor.

By the time the host of the early evening show has arrived and is setting up her stuff while the last song of Eduard’s show plays, he has received quite some messages asking if his cousins or their uncle, who, according to one of his frequent listeners, ‘sounds like a rad dude’, will return. He gestures Søren over from where he’s now already making merry conversation with his colleague, who looks more bewildered than anything.

“What’s up?”

“Well, it seems my listeners like you more than they like me.” Eduard gestures at his computer screen, and Søren grins as he leans over next to him to read the messages. He’s taken his leather jacket off. There are freckles on his bare arms too, and he is making Eduard cold just by looking at them.

“Y’know, the only way to make ‘em rethink that is if I do come back, ain’t it? I can just be an all-round terrible co-host.”

“I like that idea,” Eduard replies, before turning his microphone on as the song ends. “Bruce Springsteen and Born to Run, and it’s the end of another afternoon. Kveta just got here—” he turns his attention to the next host, who nods— “Kveta, anything we can look forward to today?”

“No family members, I think, unless anyone wants me to prank call my stepbrother again.” She laughs. “I’ve got some great new tracks, and there might be some live music going on.”

“Very nice.”

“Of course. So, Eduard, are your family members coming back?”

Søren, who is still next to Eduard, pokes him in the side, then leans further forward to speak into his microphone.

“I’ve always dreamed of being a radio star.”

“I think he’s coming back to usurp me.” Eduard turns to Søren, almost poking his nose into the man’s spiky hair. “He’s already using my mic. And who knows what Peter and Lars will do, they’re twelve.”

“I guess that’s true,” Kveta replies. “Wow, Eduard, he’s really up in your face. I feel like someone should be shielding your cousins’ eyes.”

Peter laughs from where he’s now standing next to Vinh, peering at her screen. Vinh raises her eyebrows at Kveta, who smiles, bites her lip, and looks away. Eduard has to smother a laugh.

“Again, they’re twelve. And I think it’s time we all start heading home, so I’ll leave you to it, Kveta. Please don’t bother your stepbrother too much.” He tilts his head towards Vinh, quirking his mouth, and Kveta glares but sounds upbeat as ever when she replies.

“Can’t promise anything. Now, next hour, we’re starting off with some new music, so stay tuned. Eduard will be back tomorrow afternoon at four.”

The commercial break starts, and Eduard sets about packing up his things, gesturing Peter away from Vinh so Kveta can talk to her a bit before her own production team takes over. Most days, he’d stay at the studio for a while, but he decides to go home right away—Lars and Peter left some of their school supplies at his house that they’ll probably need tomorrow. So, after saying goodbye to Vinh and Kveta, he herds his cousins and Søren out of the studio and towards the elevator, which they ride down to the parking garage. Søren swings his backpack around and pulls out a knit red scarf.

When they reach the garage, the man grasps Eduard’s shoulder as they exit the elevator, stopping him in his tracks. The boys are already racing towards the car, which Eduard also wouldn’t have taken on most other days, preferring to use the bus, but he figured it’d be smarter to take his cousins that way.

“Hey,” Søren is saying, “I biked here, so—”

“In this cold? Do you want a lift?”

He blinks. Scratches his temple.

“There’s a bike carrier on my car,” Eduard adds. “It’s pretty new, I—”

“Uncle Eduard!” Peter calls, waiting by the back door of the car. Eduard holds up a hand—while Lars reminds his brother it’s first cousin once removed Eduard—and pulls the key fob out of his bag to unlock the door for him, then turns back to Søren.

“It’d be no problem; I could take you all over to your place after we stop by my house.”

“We should do dinner,” Søren says, à propos of nothing, his face bright in the gloom of the garage. “Yeah? I owe you one. What kinda food d’you like?”

“I… No, it’s fine, they’re my cousins, it was no trouble at all! I don’t need anything, Søren.” Eduard laughs awkwardly, fiddling with his glasses and looking towards his car. Peter is peering over the backseat.

“We could take the boys out somewhere—this weekend, maybe, before Tuomi and Torbjörn get back. Doesn’t have to be anything fancy.” His hand, still on Eduard’s shoulder, squeezes gently with every other word as if Søren is trying to get his usual gestures across that way. Or, now that he thinks about it, those are probably actual signs. He smiles.

“Well, maybe. I don’t have a show on the weekends.”

“Yeah?” When he pulls his hand back, Søren’s fingers glance off Eduard’s neck. They’re warm. “I’m sure we can find something even Lars will approve of.”

That sounds dubious, but Eduard will hold out hope. Søren agrees to a lift, though, and they figure out how to put his bike on the carrier without difficulties before piling in and driving over to Eduard’s house.

Søren traipses inside after Lars and Peter, peering around curiously.

“Nice place,” he tells Eduard, who waits in the hall while his cousins collect their things. And, “Hey, you should stay for dinner at mine.”

“Søren…”

“Just sayin’, why eat here all by your lonesome when there’s plenty of food at mine? You gotta go there anyways.” At this, he pokes Eduard’s arm gently. “I mean, if you need some alone time after dealing with those two, I ain’t judging.”

Huffing a laugh, Eduard shakes his head. “I don’t know how Tuomi and Torbjörn do it.”

“Together, and with practice, I guess. Wanna come?”

Eduard contemplates it for a moment, looking into the living room and thinking about the leftover spaghetti he has in the fridge.

“Alright. Thank you, Søren.”

Søren smiles, softer than seems to be the norm for him, his cheeks dimpling gently. It’s like a little ray of sunshine on a December day.

“Boys!” he yells, clasping Eduard’s shoulder again when he winces. “Sorry. I’m no good at regulating my own volume.”

Lars is glaring at his uncle, having already been standing in the doorway to the living room with his school bag in hand and having heard him loud and clear.

“Sorry,” Søren repeats, this time signing it as well, putting his hands together as if in prayer.

“What?” Peter yells back from somewhere else. Seconds later, he skids into the hall, his sneakers leaving black marks on the wood floor. “What.”

“Eduard’s coming over for dinner. Got everything?”

They both nod, and Peter claps Eduard on the back as they all head back out. Søren laughs. He takes his scarf off when he gets into the car this time.

“Hey, are you allergic to anything? Or vegetarian?”

“I’m not, don’t worry.” He checks over his shoulder that his cousins have their seatbelts on, then starts his car. “I mean, I don’t eat a lot of meat these days, but I won’t say no.”

“Hm, yeah, that’s good. I oughta be better at that.”

With Søren’s instructions—gestures included—Eduard finds his building on the outskirts of one of the older suburbs easily. Søren tosses Lars the keys to his apartment and the boys run off while Eduard helps him get his bike down from the car, then waits while he parks it somewhere in the shared storage space.

“Alright! C’mon, Eduard, I don’t really want ‘em to break my kitchen down.”

After taking the stairs, they reach Søren’s apartment on the second floor. The door has been left open, and little lights twinkle around the frame.

“Hey!” Søren says, surprised, as Eduard curiously looks around the narrow hall. It’s much neater than he somehow expected, probably just because of Søren’s slightly chaotic mannerisms. Since he sees that his cousins have lined their shoes up by the door, he takes his own off as well, putting them next to Peter’s.

Entering the living room, he understands Søren’s surprise. Peter and Lars are rushing to set the table, apparently trying to outdo each other in speed. There is a tiny Christmas tree on a dresser that suddenly seems quite precarious.

“Be careful,” Eduard says, a little feebly, and Peter grins at him, his hands stacked with far too many plates for four people. It seems to be going alright for now, so Eduard leaves them be to seek out Søren.

“Uh, Søren?” He walks into the kitchen. It’s a surprisingly large space, and Søren already has some pans out and is reaching up for a cutting board. He doesn’t appear to have heard Eduard over the clattering happening in the living room.

“Are you sure about… That?” Eduard asks, when the man has a hold of his cutting board and spots him.

“What, the boys? They’ll be fine.” Something crashes loudly, and Søren pulls a rueful face at the door. “I jinxed it.”

“We’ve got it, Uncle Søren!” Peter yells.

“I’m gonna just… Hey, Eduard, can you get some water boiling while I go check on that?”

“Of course,” he replies, holding a thumb up. Søren pauses on his way out of the kitchen and smiles.

“Of course,” he repeats, moving his hand forward while he first holds just his pinkie up and then opens his whole hand. He does it again, slightly slower, and Eduard tries to replicate the sign. “Hey, great!”

Before he rushes off to assess the damage, he makes an okay sign with one hand.

Eduard fills a pan with water, assuming it’s for the rice Søren’s put on the counter, and turns the stove on to heat it. Søren returns quickly, carrying almost all of the plates Peter was hauling around.

“I think Tuomi and Torbjörn are raising ‘em too well,” he says, putting the plates away. “I don’t think I ever voluntarily set the table until I moved out. Can you slice these peppers?”

Eduard can, while Søren pulls some chicken out the fridge to fry it.

“They’re just hungry. Besides, didn’t they just break a plate?”

“Just the one, it’s fine. I definitely wouldn’t have done a chore if I was hungry. Gotta wonder how Torbjörn turned out so decent.”

“Keeping you in check?”

Søren laughs heartily at that, leaning his hands on the counter so that his shoulders shake visibly. He’s just in his T-shirt again, and Eduard can see now that it is merch of a band he plays sometimes and likes well enough, although he wouldn’t call himself a fan. He slices the bell peppers and some cauliflower, and smiles as a delicious spicy scent fills the kitchen a while later.

Peter sidles into the kitchen as Søren covers the pan to let it simmer for a while. He looks like he’s about to lift the lid again.

“Hey, hey, watch out,” Søren says, pulling his hand away. “That’s hot.”

“I just wanna see.”

He’s always done that, as far as Eduard knows. He can clearly recall a load of pictures of toddler Peter pressed up against the glass of ovens and washing machines and microwaves. He wonders when he’ll grow out of it, or if he’ll be like Tuomi, who still watches whatever he’s cooking for at least ten minutes, but then Tuomi is bad at cooking and might just be making sure it’s not going to explode.

Peter stubbornly crosses his arms and stares at the pan.

“Are you planning on staying there?” Søren asks.

“Probably,” he replies brightly, turning his head to address his uncle. Søren throws a fond smile at him and ruffles his hair before he can duck away.

“Eduard, by the way, I still think we should get dinner this weekend,” he says, pointing a finger at Eduard, who accepts that with a helpless gesture, mostly aimed in an amused Peter’s direction.

“Is that where you get that stubborn streak from?” Eduard asks him, and both Peter and Søren burst out laughing at that.

“It’s like you’ve never even met his parents!”

“Pa says no one is allowed to play Monopoly anymore.” Peter shrugs. “Not that I wanted to, Monopoly’s boring, but Lars got real upset about it.”

“Dad stole all my hotels!” Lars yells from the living room, sounding extremely indignant. Tuomi really is that sort of person, Eduard thinks, glancing at Søren in amusement, but Søren is narrowing his eyes and looking at Peter questioningly.

“Dad stole Lars’s hotels,” the boy relays, and Søren nods, now returning Eduard’s look.

“No Monopoly, got it. I’m sure I got some other games, though, we’ll check it out later.”

Peter grins, nodding. Eduard fears that both his cousins have inherited Tuomi’s competitiveness.

Dinner is good. Eduard is used to eating by himself, or sometimes with Vinh or another coworker, often the early afternoon duo—he tends to spend that time looking at his phone, or, in the latter case, trying to mediate yet another argument between them. It’s nice to have someone to talk to instead of just listening to music or reading news articles.

Søren still gestures wildly while he’s eating, cutlery and all, sometimes even half-forming signs, but he somehow manages to avoid flinging any food as he does so. He says it’s an acquired skill, then launches into a story about throwing soup into Torbjörn’s hair when they were teenagers that has Peter laughing so hard he nearly chokes and Lars, in turn, yelling at him not to throw up or he’ll kill him.

“I’m not,” Peter replies, glaring fiercely even as he breaks out in a hacking cough again, and then quickly signs something at his brother that makes Lars glare back. They definitely inherited that from Torbjörn. Eduard gently claps Peter’s back, and even though he doesn’t think it’s helping much, Peter eventually quiets. His breathing settles back into a normal rhythm, and he takes a large gulp of his water.

“Peter, don’t confuse your cousin,” Søren says, making a downward slashing motion with both hands.

“Sorry, Uncle Eduard,” Peter tells him. He picks his fork back up.

“It’s fine,” Eduard replies, after realizing Søren is talking about Peter using sign language, which he doesn’t understand. Lars, on the other side of the table, rolls his eyes and touches his hand to his shoulder, which makes Søren sigh and shake his head at him.

“It is difficult, Lars.”

Eduard gestures for him to leave it be—wondering as he does so what his gesture might actually imply—and Søren doesn’t say anything else about it, but he does grumble, later, while they load the dishes into the dishwasher, that he knows his brother made it a point that they shouldn’t use sign language to exclude anyone on purpose.

“Probably ‘cause our parents had the same rule,” he explains, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. His T-shirt stretches across his shoulders, quite nicely, Eduard thinks. “Although that was mostly ‘cause we were better at it than them. Still are, and my mom would still put me in timeout too, 39 years old or not.”

“That sounds fair. I really didn’t mind, though.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, y’know?”

There is a ruckus from the living room. Søren raises his dark eyebrows questioningly.

“They’re, ah… They’re arguing over which game they want to play.”

“Yeah, that seems about right. Are you staying longer or are you heading home?”

“I should probably be going, I like to do some preparations before I go to sleep.” He adjusts his glasses. “Thank you for dinner. You’re always welcome at mine, too.”

“Might take you up on that, Eduard.” Søren runs a hand over his hair and pushes away from the counter. “I’ll probably see you around before the end of the week, I need your help with those kids.”

“Like I said, their parents do it together too.”

That gets him a lopsided grin and a wink that he doesn’t know what to think about but quite likes anyway. Eduard goes to collect his coat and shoes, bids his cousins a good night before they both try to convince him their choice of board game is the right one, and heads out. Søren walks him down to the parking lot.

“I’ll see you, then,” he tells the man, biting his lip when he gets another lopsided smile.

“See you ‘round, Eduard.” He waves shortly when Eduard pulls up in his car, illuminated for a moment by the headlights as he turns off the parking lot. Still just in his T-shirt.

Back home, Eduard leans over to get his papers out of the glovebox, and his hand brushes against something soft. Blinking, he picks it up from the passenger seat and lets the soft wool run across his hands. Søren’s scarf, he realizes, and takes it inside with him.

He’s sure he’ll have the opportunity to return it soon enough.

21 notes · View notes

rebelwheelssoapbox · 5 years

Text

When Feminism Fails Feminists : A Love Letter To The Movement

by RebelwheelsNYC When I was a little girl growing up in the late 70's, my mother told me, time and again, that whatever I do, to always make sure that I had my own money, and to never – ever – be financially reliant on a man. Besides completely ruling out the option and existence of queer sexuality, it was the exact opposite of what was drilled into her, by her parents. Advice that she realized was not on point, during toxic marriage #1, where she initially had no financial way out of.

[image description: a baby in business attire, with a cellphone and laptop]

And so I became fiercely independent. If the neighborhood kids sold lemonade, I sold lemonade and iced tea. If local teenagers were charging 5 dollars per hour to babysit, I was charging a more competitive rate of 3 dollars per hour – which got me more gigs. (Though to be honest, this is also because I was 10 & 3 dollars per hour was big money. Why adults were leaving their very young children, sometimes toddlers, sometimes babies with a 10 year old, is a whole 'nother question. Yes, I was very mature for my age, but still... 10.) I was like a mini entrepreneur, always doing something to make money. I was behaving in a way that I perceived (and what was presented to me via my mother) as being an empowered woman, and although I didn't know the word as of yet – a feminist. My mother eventually went from the stay at home mom / housewife (which was frowned upon in mainstream feminist circles ) to the modern working woman of the corporate world (which was greatly revered). This was partially done I suppose as a feminist statement, a rebellion against what she was taught, but also it was of necessity to get out of a bad marriage.

[image description: a woman in a typical 80′s business suit, with huge shoulder pads. she is talking on a brick size 80′s cellphone.]

And while I was great at making money, one thing my mother never taught me (and I suspect no one ever taught her) was how to have a good, loving and mutually supportive relationship. Another being that money (although necessary and can be a certain kind of freedom) does not guarantee happiness. And so in order to lead a better life, I would eventually need to go beyond the kind of feminism that my mother taught me, just as she had to go beyond what her mother taught her. And of course, these days we know there is nothing less than about staying home and raising your kids (if that is what a woman chooses, and if that is an option, which it isn't for all people). In fact, it only has stigma when it's viewed and presented as a woman's “only path”. The toxic and false idea that a woman, at best, could only be three things in life. A daughter. A wife. A mother. That's it. And thus why back in the day, if a woman was a stay home mom and wife? She was a traitor. She was oppressed. She was not a real feminist. In the 90's I was exposed to a more academic, queer focused but still very white brand of feminism. It was also another instance where once again a feminist looked and behaved a certain way, if she was a real feminist. Short hair was seen by some as a sign of freedom. Long hair meant you were (in ways) oppressed, that the only possible reason you chose long hair is that you were a servant to the patriarchy and male gaze – when maybe you just liked to have longer hair.

[image description: two powerful woman stand with a raised fist of solidarity, and a proetest sign in their other hand. one sign reads “protect: black, asian, muslim, latinx, disabled, trans, fat, poor women”. the other sign reads “if you don’t fight for all women, you fight for no women.” ] And I think this is where feminism sometimes fails the same people it is supposed to liberate. Yes, sometimes progress means rebelling against the norm, to even present that as an option, and that is a very important first step. Do note, in no way am I disparaging the activists and progress of the feminists who came before me. But if a movement never goes beyond that first step, where by default, it's the direct opposite of the norm, then the norm is still dictating the behavior and appearance of what qualifies as, in this case “a real feminist”. True liberation can only be achieved when we go beyond that first step, and let people be as they want to be, regardless if it happens to fit or go against the norm, or even varies and fluctuates as per their whim and mood, long as one is aware of the root of that decision : internalized oppression or liberation.

Humans are nuanced beings and one box will never fit all people. Furthermore replacing one box based on societal norms, with another box that is the default opposite of the norm, is still a box. One could reasonably argue, that this is not liberation or it's liberation, but only for some. For those who can comfortably conform, while excluding other people who can not. It goes without saying that the topic of feminism and liberation, is one that is complicated and nuanced, a topic that one could easily write a thesis on (and many have). It is also important to note that when I refer to feminism in this article, I am obviously referring to my own experience growing up, which was pretty much focused on liberation via financial means and the impact of sexism. In this way, I also needed to go beyond what I grew up with, because when we have a kind of feminism that doesn't acknowledge how various forms of discrimination (racism, LGBTQ+phobia – and yes this includes, transphobia - ableism, fatphobia, islamophobia, xenophobia and all other forms of oppression) intersect with the feminist struggle, and impact feminists from marginalized communities; when our feminism is not intersectional, and mostly focuses on the struggles of the cisgender heterosexual middle class white woman, this too fails feminists.

author’s note: I am a queer/bi, disabled (#DisabledAF) intersectional activist, writer, artist and nerd. While this was written with the intention of solidarity, sometimes I don’t always get it right. If you feel this article misses the mark in any way, I am open to constructive feedback. you can leave a comment or msg me privately.

[image description: black and pink symbol of feminism]

#feminism #intersectional feminism #when feminism fails #feminist #activism #solidarity #feminist solidarity #80's feminism #white feminism #90's feminism #modern feminism #single issue feminism #say no to terfs

29 notes · View notes

wildhopelife · 4 years

Text

I’ve been sat in my flat during this covid lockdown getting upset about systemic racism and how desperately sad it is, thinking about how too many lives are being lost to an unequal and oppressive system. I decided to challenge myself to write something and see how I could start making changes. I am writing this post as a white woman and I’m very aware I’m on a journey and not got everything right, I’m sure I get a lot of things wrong, but I want to educate myself and be and do better.

Some of my closest friends and family experience intentional verbal abuse daily, some have experienced worse. They have to work extra hard just to get on an equal footing, in the education system and in work places. Western society is set up to privilege the white male. Crimes go unchecked, bullying swept under the rug, opportunities taken away, and much much worse, all due to skin colour. And I’m not ok with it. I want to challenge racism, I want to be an anti-racist.

The roots of white privilege go back far. White power over others has been used for centuries. It is wrong and unjust and isn’t going to go away just by being kind. Not calling someone names because of the colour of their skin or not crossing the road when you see a young black man is not doing well, it does not win you a prize.

It’s about standing with black people when it’s hard. Speaking up when you don’t quite know what to say, listening to someone’s pain and hurt without chipping in to try to justify it.

It’s also about the small things. Refusing to read a magazine if there is no black representation it it, the same for beauty products, films, tv. Not just that but telling others so they can do the same. Calling it out on twitter or Instagram, writing to the company, saying ‘no’ day to day to white privilege. Calling it out when people use disparaging comments saying a black person is too angry or upset about racism. If you see something going off like this, raise it with your employer, write to your local councillors or MP and comment on it, ask them what they are doing to address white privilege in your local area.

Educate yourself on the issues so you can feel more confident in calling it out. You only have to google “roots of white privilege” and a million things come up. You don’t have to read a book although I have great recommendations if you want to.

We are living in a system that benefits certain people very well & is messed up for the rest, it’s going to take a lot to correct it (basically we need a new system). But these little things help. Protests also help but if you don’t feel confident to go (you can always come with me) it’s about being consistent in making relatively small changes in your day to day life so that black people feel like white people have got their backs. The more of us that do this, the more companies and governments take note. Never think that just you making a change doesn’t help. People notice.

Speaking up can be hard, but black people are being killed Just because they were born with a different colour skin. We have the amazing privilege of being able to help push forward change. Systems change when people say that they are no longer ok with the one they’ve got. We all have the power to do this.

I’ll leave you with this...

“It would be more comfortable to believe that racism somehow magically sprang full-blown without our having had anything to do with it. We would rather remain unconscious of decisions that reinforce white privilege that are made by a few on behalf of all white people... We must ask how we participate in not seeing the experiences of people of color that are so very different from white people’s... In short, white people can continue to use unearned privilege to remain ignorant, or we can determine to put aside our opacities in order to see clearly and live differently.” Francis E. Kendall

0 notes

wr8tur · 7 years

Text

RACOON RUN (Day 1 First Meeting AU)

The bright green light beckons to her, inviting her to move forward, to cross the four-way intersection. She presses onward, eager to get home, to succumb to the comforts of her bed, close her eyes, let the day fade, and have the night take her completely.

Sleep. It’s what she desperately needs after spending hours negotiating the terms of her deal with Toshimura Tech.

It’s all very exhausting now, dealing with people who think so lowly of her because of her surname. At least before, before her brother’s insanity took the lives of thousands, they’d hidden their contempt. But now, they’re so willing to openly disparage and belittle any one with the name Luthor.

She doesn’t need to wonder why they’re still willing to deal with in spite of their apparent hatred.

Money makes for marvelous motivation.

So people come, propose their deals, continually buy Luthor merchandise, so her stocks maintain and never plummet, all thanks to their genius bloodline.

But unlike the Luthors before her, she doesn’t care about the glory, the prestige, the wealth, or the power. She ultimately doesn’t even care about what they’re saying or how they feel about her family. They are but faceless strangers who spout their opinions as though they mattered when in reality they’re unwarranted, unwanted, and ultimately meaningless.

It’s not like she committed the crimes herself so she doesn’t harbor guilt. There’s no real reason to be obligated and absolutely no desire to pay for what her family took.

So why does the youngest Luthor continue on this path?

Because the Luthor in her craves to subjugate, to see those who feel as though they walk amongst the clouds, those who believe themselves superior, those who feel they are beyond reproach quiver in fear and look upon her with a mixture of defeat and awe as they realize that Lena Luthor is damn good at what she does.

She relishes in the feeling of her victory, revels in their defeat, committing to memory how her heart races, how adrenaline fuels her, how charging warms her veins from her spine to the tips of her fingers.

Depending on who her partner is because she has had some rather euphoric entanglements, it’s almost better than sex.

A blur, golden and blue with a hint of red, crosses the street.

Luckily she’s an adept driver with quick reflexes so her foot finds the brake pedal easily and the tires screech, the brakes howl, as the car skids along the road.

She stares at the obstacle. Before her is a gorgeous woman, of blonde of hair, statuesque build, wearing a blue blazer, navy jeans, and an apple red collared button up shirt, sky blue eyes wide with panic looking like much like a deer caught in headlights stands unmoving.

Lena isn’t in the business of helping others.

But there’s just something about the woman not just her obvious attractive looks because she’s encountered her fair share of beautiful women in her line of work, models and actresses and the like, that prompts the businesswoman to step out of her car and offer her aid.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” the stranger begins. “There were raccoons!” she exclaims suddenly and receives a raised brow.

Lena grasps the door of her car, perfectly manicured nails displayed, as she leans gently, openly observing the stranger she almost ran over. She tilts her head and allows her curiosity to get the better of her, allowing herself to engage the other young woman openly.

“You were running away from raccoons?” Lena doesn’t bother to hide her amusement.

“Yes!” the blonde explains as she holds her hand up where a black ball of fur situates safely in her palm. “I was walking and I heard crying, so I checked out what it was. There were these raccoons, huddled together around a box!” she continued, frantic and breathless and utterly so worried. “They were going to eat her so I fought them off and took her and I was running but they were chasing me and then I crossed the street.” Lena didn’t think it was possible but the stranger’s eyes widened even more. “I never jaywalk but I felt the situation called for a little law breaking,” the woman, breathless by now, explains. “I’m sorry if I got in your way! It’s just I had to save her.”

“It’s quite alright.” Lena can hardly find herself to be angry with such a beautiful and good Samaritan. “And how are you both doing?” it occurs to Lena then, that this conversation might be better had somewhere off the road.

“I’m fine but she’s bleeding horribly.” the woman looks at the injured ball of fur in her hand.

“Hop in,” Lena gestures to the empty passenger seat.

“Oh uh…” the businesswoman can hardly believe it but the woman’s panic visibly spreads on her features.

“I promise I’m not some sleazy stranger who’s going to drug you before I have my way with you.” she teases, hoping it’ll ease the woman’s nerves. “I’d rather you be fully conscious and aware for that.” perhaps it’s taking things too far, but Lena isn’t one to half ass anything.

“It’s not that!” and Lena waits for the blushing blonde’s excuse. “Well, I couldn’t possibly trouble you any more.”

The youngest Luthor regards the woman, observes her, and sees that she’s radiating with honesty and regret that’s so pure and tangible that it practically lingers in the air. It’s so unlike what Lena encounters. She’s too used to backstabbing and greed and lies and deceit and underhandedness and the darkness of man’s heart but now she finds a light so bright it’s nearly blinding.

A smile forms, genuine and warm and inviting.

“You should put aside your modesty,” the businesswoman advises in a gentle manner she never believed she could possess. “I don’t think the puppy should wait any longer for proper medical attention.” her reasoning is sound so the blonde nods, jumps into the car, completely throwing her previous reticence out the door.

It takes a while but after Lena makes a call to her assistant, they manage to find an emergency animal clinic near the outskirts of the city.

As soon as she parks the car, the woman rushes inside, leaving Lena to grip onto the steering wheel. She’s served her purpose, brought the package both safely to the intended destination, so now she’s wondering why she’s leaving her car and walking toward the building to follow after the stranger and the stray.

Just as she opens the door, she’s met yet again with bright blue eyes and golden hair.

“You’re still here.” the blonde visibly brightens and Lena can’t remember a time when her presence ever had such an effect on anyone. “I thought you’d left.” the stranger seems to realize the negative implications of her statement. “Not that I’d blame you! I mean, you already did enough driving us here after I almost made you run me over.” Lena finds her hand reaching, fingers moving to tuck a stray hair behind the stranger’s ear. It’s completely involuntary and Lena can’t think of the last time she acted without calculating her movements with precision. “You don’t have to stay.” the stranger says, calmer than before, but the look in her eyes tells the young Luthor she doesn’t want her to go.

“I’m not one to leave during a crisis.” Lena finds herself willing to stay.

“She was missing a leg, that’s probably why they threw her away.” the blonde murmurs as she looks behind the doors, where the injured creature is currently being attended to. “I did a piece on puppy mills a few months ago,” the stranger informs. “They throw away the ones they can’t sell.”

“Not all life is precious.” Lena can’t help the words flow from her mouth.

“Isn’t that a bit harsh?” the blonde queries, not biting or acerbic in any way, seeming completely unfazed by the raven haired stranger’s nihilism.

“Perhaps, but it’s my truth.” it’s a harsh lesson she learned early on.

“Why are you here then?” her tone is cautious and curious, eyes filled with gentleness that allow Lena to know she isn’t being judged. “I don’t want to sound rude or anything,” she pushes on and the businesswoman waits patiently for her to clarify her earlier query. “But you seem like a busy woman what with the fancy car, the assistant, and your suit…” her cheeks are tinged pink as she her eyes trail over the businesswoman’s attire and Lena realizes that attraction is probably reciprocated. “But you’re waiting here with me…” their eyes meet and bright blues peer into hers, not with expectation, but with genuine concern like she absolutely cares about what Lena has to say.

“If I maybe be honest,” Lena can’t remember the last instance when she was completely truthful. “I find myself wanting to stay for you.” she doesn’t bother masking her intentions because today’s events prove one should live in the moment.

“Me?” it’s apparent the stranger doesn’t want seem to believe she’s worth Lena’s attention as she fidgets in her seat, completely flustered.

“Well, mostly you.” she clarifies. “And a little for her.” she gestures toward the door. Lena isn’t met with skepticism so she ventures on. “See, animals are different.” Lena answers, letting her know she isn’t offended. “They react according to their nature while humans, most humans,” because the stranger is clearly unlike anyone Lena’s encountered, “Well we pretend we’re civilized but in the end we lie and cheat, ultimately answering our baser instinct we struggle to mask.”

“And what would that be?”

“We covet.” she sounds much like she’s told the stranger one of her most guarded secrets and Lena supposes she has. She’s never had the opportunity to share her insights. “Humans are instinctively greedy.

“You don’t think animals are the same?” the blonde’s forehead creases adorably.

“Most take only what they need while humans take everything they want.” Lena shakes her head, offers a bitter smile. “My apologies, I should be lifting your spirits, not dampening them.”

“You’re perfect.” Kara’s eyes bulge, shocked at her own forwardness, while Lena merely smirks. “I mean you’re fine,” she shakes off her nerves. “I mean it’s fine.” Kara’s mentally kicking herself but those green eyes just renders her speechless, they captivate her full attention and apparently turn her brain to mush. “I like hearing what you have to say.” the blonde assures. “I’m so used to people sidestepping my questions but you, you answer them so honestly.” she appreciates the sentiment greatly. “I’m sorry too, for asking so many questions, reporter’s habit I’m afraid.” Lena’s hand itches by her side as she finds herself wanting to comfort this stranger.

“But how ever will we get to know each other if we don’t ask questions?” and she finds herself almost desperate to know this woman who doesn’t seem to have an inkling as to who she is. “So long as it’s all off the record.”

“Of course.” the blonde promises as she raises her pinky toward the businesswoman.

“I can’t say I remember the last time I was made to pinky promise.” Lena says as she lifts her own hand and links their pinkies together, receiving a blinding smile from the blonde whose eyes are also twinkling in delight.

“Well, I take my pinky promises very seriously.” the stranger remarks resolutely.

“I don’t doubt that.” it doesn’t escape her that neither of them had moved to disentangle their appendages. “So I suppose this means you aren’t in the habit of making pinky promises to complete strangers?”

“You’re my first.” she peers deeply into the Luthor’s eyes.

The businesswoman’s response is cut short by the ringing of a cellphone. She looks at the blonde’s blazer where the sound was emanating from and watches as the stranger seems to realize she’d been staring like the emerald pools hold all the answers to life’s questions.

The blonde fishes her cell with her freehand, seeing as the other is still linked onto Lena’s, looking at the caller ID before glancing up at Lena.

She can easily see how torn the stranger is between her and whoever is calling. Lena gives the blonde a nod, detaching their link before stepping aside, moving toward the chairs in the lobby to give the stranger space to take her call. The blonde smiles apologetically before answering her phone and Lena takes a seat in the lobby, trying not to listen to the phone call.

She can’t help how her eyes remained glued to the woman whose name she has yet to learn.

The stranger fidgets, allowing the businesswoman to discern she feels guilty. Lena notes how the blonde’s shoulders relax, perhaps she’d offered compensation for whatever grievance she’d caused and has now been forgiven.

It’s clear that whomever is on the other end of the phone is important to the blonde and the youngest Luthor can’t help but be curious. The stranger refocuses her attention toward Lena after hanging up on the phone. She sits beside the businesswoman, smiling, but it’s clear that the tension hasn’t completely left her body.

“Boyfriend?” Lena asks because she’s direct and doesn’t see the point in torturing herself over it.

“No boyfriend.” she responds with an emphatic shaking of the blonde’s head. “No romantic entanglements whatsoever at the moment.” the businesswoman smirks as the blonde blushes, clearly they both know she’s announcing her availability a little bit too eagerly. “That was my sister.” she’s all too quick to assuage Lena. “We were supposed to have dinner tonight but you distracted me.”

“I hardly think I deserve all the credit.” she gestures her head toward the doors and Kara nods.

“Well you and the puppy.” bright blues follow her gaze. A crease begins to form as worry takes over her features completely. “Think she’s okay in there?” Lena reaches out, boldly taking the stranger’s hand in her own.

“I’m sure they are doing the best they can.” she doesn’t want to give the stranger false hope because even though they haven’t really met, Lena doesn’t think she can bare to see the brightness fade from her captivating blue depths. She links their fingers together, offers soft reassuring squeeze that seems to relieve a little of the blonde’s worries. “And you know, we must not forget the raccoons you were running from.” she looks thoughtfully. “I’ve never known raccoons to give chase.”

“I probably shouldn’t have kicked them but I didn’t know how else to save the puggy.” she shrugs. “Lex, my older sister,” Lena can feel her heart caught in her throat upon hearing the name. “Oh she hates it when I call her that.” the blonde shakes her head, no doubt mentally chastising herself for her error. “Alex, always worries about me.”

“Oh?” Lena can’t help the crackling in her tone.

“She thinks I’m reckless.” the youngest Luthor listens and can’t help bit think there’s truth to Alex’s words seeing as the blonde seems to be prepared to share her entire life story to a complete stranger. “I’d like to think I’m just a little impulsive.” she asserts. “But over all I consider myself responsible and independent given that I have my own job, my own apartment, I vote, and pay my taxes.”

“You sound like an upstanding citizen.” Lena continues to tease.

“Well, I wasn’t lying when I said it was my first time jay walking.” the blonde responds appreciatively, knowing that the businesswoman isn’t just asking questions to get to know her but is also hoping to ease her worried mind.

“You mean you’re not always rescuing puppies from being eaten by rabid rodents?” she receives a playful shove in return for her teasing.

“I’m having a lot of firsts tonight.” the reporter discloses.

“You’re not the only one.” Lena assures because it’s important for the woman to know that she too isn’t in the habit of helping strangers. “You know, I think our first reaction speaks a lot about the kind of person we are.”

“And what kind of person do you think I am?” the blonde looks upon her, doe eyed and innocent.

“You’re obviously very helpful.” not many people would risk rabies just to help a half dead pup in a box. “Compassionate.” she peers deep into those bright blue depths. “Exceedingly kind.” Lena compliments. “Astonishingly beautiful on the inside and the out.” she’s rewarded by a shy smile accompanied with burning reddened cheeks.

“Now who’s being exceedingly kind?”

“I’m only being honesty.” Lena asserts. “It’s very rare that but I find myself trusting you so easily.” her upbringing taught her not to trust so easily because all people want is to take advantage.

“Well, I would never betray a pink swear.”

“Of course not.” because this stranger before her is so obviously open and trusting. She’s everything Lena is not, everything Lena long thought gone from this world. “You have a big heart.” Lena finds herself turning away. “You should be careful who you give it to.” because there’s darkness in her heart, one that could easily temper the blonde’s light.

The stranger’s response is cut off when the doors open, revealing the vet standing with a kind smile on his face, and suddenly she can feel it easier to breathe.

“She’s doing fine.” he assures. “She’s resting.”

“May I see her?” Lena looks at doctor pointedly, because her assistant called ahead to let the hospital know so they could ready the accommodations of Lena Luthor and an injured puppy. “I know it’s late but…”

“You’re certainly welcome to.” he leads the way after giving Lena a reassuring nod.

They stand by the operating table, watching as the fragile puppy breathes easier, the blood cleaned off her fur, looking much more relaxed despite being wrapped in bandages. Much to her surprise, she reaches out before the blonde can. Her hand makes contact with the puppy’s head as she gently begins to run her fingers through her soft fur.

It’s hard to imagine that this pitiful creature could warm her heart, but she finds herself succumbing to the puppy’s charms, to the way the pug practically melts into her hand when she scratches just behind her ear.

The blonde reporter reaches out to pet the puppy as well. When her fingers brush against Lena’s, a small blush stains her cheeks.

Their eyes lock and they smile.

For the first time since the death of birth mother, Lena finds herself hopeful. She looks forward for tomorrow and what the future holds for herself, the kind hearted stranger, and the recovering pug puppy.

XXXX

They walk toward the entrance of the apartment building, shoulders brushing against one another due to their close proximity.

“I just realized my apartment doesn’t allow pets.” the blonde recalls as they stand directly outside the entrance of her building. “I mean, I’m sure it’s going to be a while until she’s released but I suppose I should start finding her a home soon.” her brows furrow as she lists all the people she knows that are dog enthusiasts.

“I could take her.” Lena finds herself saying. “But,”

“But?” she waits, looking as though her entire life depends on Lena’s words.

“I will need help in her care.”

“I could help!” she’s quick to offer her aid. “I’ll walk her, feed her, I’ll even help potty train her and buy her food, and toys, and oh she’ll look so cute in a dress! I mean, if you’ll let me.” she tries to reign in her excitement but she’s practically bouncing on the balls of her feet and all Lena can do is sport a smile that threatens to cut her fact in half.

“You almost died saving her I hardly think it appropriate to separate you two.”

“So I have visitation rights?” her head cocks to the side and Lena can’t help but think that she’s welcoming two puppies into her life.

“You make it sound like we’re some divorced couple sharing custody over our child.”

“Don’t we have to get married before we get divorced?” the blonde riposte’s congenially.

“A proposal already?” Lena teases, unable to help her playful mood. “We haven’t even been on a date yet.” she shakes her head humorously. “Hell, I don’t even know your name.” the businesswoman can’t remember the last time she’d held a conversation with someone whose name she didn’t know, someone who didn’t know who she was.

“I’m Kara.” she extends her hand. “Kara Danvers.”

“It was certainly a pleasure meeting you, Kara,” she takes Kara’s hand into her own, memorizing how warm it feels against her skin, how the simple contact sends tingles down her spine. “And our daughter who we have yet named.”

“Oh right…” expressive blue eyes bulge upon realizing they haven’t named the puppy yet. “What would you like to name her?”

“Since you gave her a second life,” she doesn’t think she deserves the honor of bestowing a name to something so precious. “I’ll leave the naming up to you.” the right and privilege belongs only to Kara and Kara alone.

“I think I’d like to call her Cerberus.” she answers almost automatically.

“Cerberus?” the woman doesn’t cease to surprise. She’d expected some kind of fluffy name to the puppy. “The hound of Hades and guardian of Persephone.”

“I’ve always been fond of Greek Mythology.” Kara confesses. “And I just read this book, The Dark Wife,” for some reason, she doesn’t feel silly telling the stranger all this. “It’s…” she’s kindly interrupted by the raven haired businesswoman.

“A lovely retelling on the lore of Persephone and Hades.” Lena compliments.

“You’ve read it.” Kara finds herself in awe. “Well I just think it’s appropriate for you and I.” and it’s easy to see where the blonde is coming from because Lena is the alluring and mysterious Hades while Kara is the bright and hopeful Persephone so of course Lena finds herself nodding in agreement.

“I’m glad to have met Cerberus and you as well, Kara Danvers.” they continue to stare into each other’s eyes, not searching for anything, but finding comfort in looking into one another’s soul.

“I suppose I, we’ll see you tomorrow for a visit?”

“Of course.” she reluctantly disentangles her hand from Kara’s as she fishes the reporter’s phone from her blazer pocket. As expected, the trusting blonde’s phone is not encrypted. “Call me.” she displays the screen and the blonde’s face turns red as her mouth begins to hang open as she reads the contact name that the businesswoman assigned herself.

“Is…” she gathers her feelings. “May I know my Future Wife’s name?”

And Lena bites her lip, looking down and momentarily breaking eye contact, before regaining the confidence to face Kara head on.

“It seems untoward to ask, given that we’ve only met and haven’t been on a date yet, but may I kiss you, Kara Danvers?” she says her name like she’s committing it to memory as she steps into Kara’s personal space, leaving enough room and opportunity for Kara to back away should she choose so.

“I mean, I think it’s perfectly fine, given that we do share custody of a living breathing creature.” Kara reasons as she finds herself leaning closer.

It’s Lena who ultimately brings their lips together. It’s meant to be a peck, neither wanting to take advantage of the kindness and trust that’s being shared, but as soon as their lips touched, their passions surged and electricity coursed through their veins.

They kissed as though they weren’t sharing their first kiss, both hoping it certainly wouldn’t be their last.

“Lena,” she whispers against Kara’s welcoming lips. “Lena Luthor.”

It dawns on Kara, then, why Lena asked for a kiss first. The youngest Luthor probably thought she would run upon discovering who she really is.

Lena Luthor, daughter of the deceased yet still renowned merciless mogul Lionel Luthor who was notorious for shutting down plants and displacing the livelihood of thousands of his workers. Lena Luthor, the younger sister of the imprisoned Neo Nazi head Lex Luthor responsible for the deaths of hundreds of minorities. Lena Luthor who is now the head of L Corp.

But all Kara sees is a beautiful woman with the most striking green eyes she’d ever beheld and a heart that’s guarded but still willing to love.

So Kara Danvers finds herself smiling because Lena being a Luthor doesn’t change anything. She presses their lips together once more, determined to show she doesn’t care about the businesswoman’s surname. As soon as they meld, Kara can taste the relief on Lena’s mouth just like Lena can feel her sincerity in her kisses.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Lena Luthor.” her thumb trails along Lena’s bottom lip, cleaning her smudged lipstick from the sides of her mouth.

Lena Luthor stands, watching as Kara Danvers enters her apartment. She runs her tongue down her bottom lip, reveling in the taste of the blonde reporter, the proof that what transpired had been real. Lena turns, heading toward her car.

She slips inside and is about to start her vehicle until her phone buzzes in the cup holder.

A message from an unknown number.

She opens it hastily and isn’t the least bit disappointed when she reads Kara’s introduction. Lena saves her number, dutifully following Kara’s request as she types in Kara Danver’s contact name as Future Wife with hearts and all sorts of lovesick emoji’s around.

She screencaps the contact page, sending it to Kara, who immediately sends her an emoji blowing a heart.

Lena Luthor laughs, loud and carefree, knowing her life will never be the same.

All thanks to a stranger who was running from raccoons.

#supercorp #supercorpweek #supercorpweek2k17 #lenaluthor #lena luthor #lena deserves better #kara x lena #lena x kara #katie mcgrath #KatieMcGrath #fanfic #becausefanfictionmatters

66 notes · View notes

zoobus · 7 years

Note

why are you friends with ranmaofficial? you're a black girl and he's an infamously combative white dude with a god complex and fascist dreams so like what are you doing lmao

Ranma is not a dude

True answer: I don’t remember why but Ranma came into my messages with three 15-page length peer researched articles for me to read with no respect to whether I understood the jargon used and then started discussing the concepts and ideas as if I already understood them which was extremely jarring and very obviously above my head but I didn’t want to admit defeat and read one piece about how full of shit the marshmallow experiment is and how we can extrapolate on that shittiness to address the alleged discrepancies in intelligence between races or the correlation between med students and eating disorders (for the former it was along the lines of “interesting that white supremacists love harping on how the children of Black-American/Black-American and Black-American/White-American children statistically have lower IQs than just White-American children but not the fact that Black/White-European raised in Europe children don’t have this discrepancy…Almost as if black children in America face a distinct consistent and constant degradation throughout their lives that negatively impacts their mental state that other races do not deal with🤔”). It was a great essay even if it took me three days to get through it and nobody ever lets me talk in-depth about a topic before getting bored and cutting me off except ranma, sometimes. So hypothetically, if anyone wanted to talk to me, you’re better off ransacking my inbox with a long article about something you’re passionate about with follow-up questions rather than small-talk because I’m incompetent at chitchat

I’ve actually had a couple people come to me about this so FYI, Ranma is not a fascist, not a right libertarian, not alt-right, not a conservative. They’re Russian, raised in the immediate aftermath of the USSR’s demise, which is going to have a strong impact on one’s opinions of communism, regardless of whether you consider it “true” communism or not. Not liking communism does not inherently indicate a liberal or someone on the right. Also,

Ranma is a Rorschach kind of person. It’s more important for them to be correct than to only hammer on right-wingers being stupid. I think more than few people take them attacking leftist posters (and also, I’ll admit, penning some…touchy replies about sexism that I’ve vocally disagreed with) as evidence of being right-wing which, again, is wrong. If someone/thing on the left is incorrect, they see it as crucial to loudly disparage incorrectness rather than trivializing it as non-important which is why you might see “actually [MAGA avatar’d twitter user] is correct, leftists know jack shit about alt-right politics.” That’s them saying “leftists need to learn more about the particulars and nuances of alt-right conventions to better destroy it” not “you fucking commies know shit about my /pol/itics lmao” but I can understand why some would conclude the latter. I do not think Ranma’s is bad reasoning to be [infamously] combative.

I’m fully aware of their reputation and regardless of it they have a multitude of great qualities, hold certain similar interests that are difficult to find, and has a comparable online history which means we share a lot of background. Let me self-drag a second and admit I don’t have friends irl and it’s difficult for me to make them online as well. Due to my upbringing, I’m super socially stunted, very immature and shy, and I worry a lot about coming across as a creep. I could write an entirely separate post about how often posts about “creepy men,” “mansplaining,” “dudebros,” or just posts starting with “I hate men” and end in something I do but didn’t know bothered others make me so nervous despite my being a girl, and make it very difficult to talk to people without feeling I’m inadvertently making them uncomfortable or pissing them off. I responded to a “mutuals post a number and I’ll describe you” ask and immediately felt like a manipulative freak when my mutual said something really sweet about me like I do not know how to handle normal people. In comes ranma who straight out the gate doesn’t give a shit about being perceived the wrong way which means I don’t have to worry either. I can relax, I can finally “be myself.” Bluntness can be a virtue.

It’s easy to get caught in an echo chamber but ranma often drag me out by the hair. Ranma is literally the only person who fully explained the dangers of "punching nazis” rhetoric to me without relying on You Are What You Hate, just-as-bad logic. Anyway, my point is that instead of riding the coattails of a smarter users’ posts like brett or taxloopholes or memecucker by adding a dumb quip like I often do, I am coerced into questioning my own beliefs and even though sometimes I wish it said with a little more kindness, ranma’s post often make me do my own research, if they haven’t already sent me the dissertation themselves (literally Ranma has never sent me something to read that was less than five pages, not once). Sometimes even when I agree with the subject matter, I’m pushed to think more critically, to understand why beyond gut instinct

contrary to whatever your opinion is, I’m not a Stepin Fetchit blindly Yes-Suh!ing everything that comes out of their mouth and I’ve publicly argued with them multiple times. It’s with them I’m without fear that disagreeing will be held against me or used to disregard anything else I say. Please don’t weaponize my identity, it’s hard enough to voice opinions antithetical to accepted thought in marginalized communities without you aggressively asking what the hell a black and a white could have in common.

they’re very strangely more knowledgeable about my country than I am. Like about us still having Columbus day because of Italian-American pride, I really had no clue and about the southern strategy which is sadJust one of those types who seems to know something about everything and well-read in a way that makes me feel a bit guilty. Rattling off their favorite Mark Twain books they’ve read when I vaguely remember that Tom Sawyer painted a fence

it’s very difficult to find a friend who enjoys anime/manga and isn’t ashamed about it at this age

reblogs my selfies with comments

Come off anon you coward don’t lmao me in my inbox

#in case you're wondering I'm on 30g of adderall and very chatty right now or as the sesquipedalian ranma might say 'loquacious'#i wish i could talk like this to real people and not the empty opera house that is tumblr

6 notes · View notes

thisdaynews · 5 years

Text

Texas Republicans brace for 2020 drubbing

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/texas-republicans-brace-for-2020-drubbing/

Texas Republicans brace for 2020 drubbing

“If the Republican Party in Texas doesn’t start looking like Texas, there won’t be a Republican Party in Texas,” retiring Rep. Will Hurd said. | Eric Gay/AP File Photo

2020 Elections

‘Republicans need to be very concerned,’ says a GOP member of the state’s congressional delegation of next year’s elections.

As bad as it’s been for Texas Republicans lately, some members of the party are warning that 2020 could be even worse.

The rash of recent House GOP retirements is just the latest sign of a state party in distress: In last year’s midterms, Democrats flipped a pair of longtime GOP districts, a Democrat came within striking distance of a Senate seat, and more than 50 elected Republican judges lost their jobs. Democrats also gained ground in state legislative races.

Story Continued Below

Changing demographics and a suburban revolt against President Donald Trump have turned Texas from a conservative bedrock to a major political battleground, especially for House seats. Once-safe congressional Republicans are facing competitive races for the first time in their careers — a potential harbinger of the GOP’s future in the state if they don’t adapt quickly.

“If the Republican Party in Texas doesn’t start looking like Texas, there won’t be a Republican Party in Texas,” retiring Rep. Will Hurd (R-Texas), who represents a key swing district, told POLITICO. Texas’ Latinos are on pace to become the largest population group in the state by 2022.

Last cycle was “without a doubt a wake-up call to most elected officials,” said Hurd. “Texas is indeed purple.”

It’s far from the glory days for Texas Republicans. For decades they had one of the most powerful, tight-knit delegations in Congress, boasting more chairmen than any other state. Most of them never had to sweat their reelection races. Much of the time, they had a native son in the White House.

“The Texas GOP took a little bit of it for granted,” said Rep. Randy Weber, a four-term Texas Republican.

Now, at least eight House seats are in play there, and Sen. John Cornyn is bracing for a competitive reelection race. It’s not out of the question that Democrats could make a play for the state’s 38 electoral college votes, which would all but clinch the presidency if they succeeded.

“Republicans need to be very concerned about Texas,” said Texas Republican Rep. Brian Babin. “Texas is definitely in play. We need to take this very, very seriously.”

Aware of the potential gains in Texas, the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee opened an office in Austin in April and put six Republicans in the state on its 2020 target list. The DCCC has placed 10 staffers on the ground in Texas.

The campaign arm is treating Texas much the way it did California in 2018 — ripe for pickups. Democrats see the increasing diversity in the state, and frustrations with Trump in the suburbs over health care and immigration, as catalysts of a changing political landscape that could play in their favor.

Keir Murray, a longtime Democratic strategist in Texas, credits Trump for putting the state in play. Democrats expected the state would eventually start to move in their direction as more minorities moved there, but believed it was still five years away, give or take.

Trump, he said, has “accelerated the process.”

In 2018, 59 percent of female voters went for Democratic candidates, compared to 40 percent for Republicans. That change, coupled with “a browning of the suburbs,” said Murray, is a boon for Democrats.

Democrat Sri Preston Kulkarni, who is running to replace retiring Rep. Pete Olson in Texas’ 22nd Congressional District, is focusing on expanding the electorate by engaging with minority communities he said are often overlooked.

“It’s very difficult to do a multicultural campaign, but I think that’s what we need to do in these urban [and] especially suburban areas where there is a huge amount of diversity,” he said. “Immigrants are usually talked about as an issue or an object, rather than talked to like voters.”

Texas Republicans are feeling the pressure but vowing to not be caught off guard. Big GOP donors have launched a new group, Engage Texas, which is planning to spend $25 million on registering new Republican voters in the state.

And some of the GOP lawmakers facing competitive reelection battles are ramping up early. Rep. Michael McCaul, who never had a tough race in his Austin-area district prior to last year, has hired a campaign manager and raised $900,000 in the first half of the year, the most he’s ever raised in a six-month stretch.

Several vulnerable members, facing their first difficult race in years, have called it quits. In addition to Hurd, Olson and Rep. Kenny Marchant — who both won reelection by less than 5 percentage points last year — announced their retirements in recent weeks. Olson’s exit opens up a competitive battleground in the Houston suburbs, while Marchant’s district is one of the most diverse in the country. Election forecasters have already moved both races to the toss-up category.

Republican Reps. John Carter and Chip Roy are also on Democrats’ target list. The GOP will also try to claw back the seats held by former Reps. Pete Sessions and John Culberson, two longtime Republicans who were wiped out in 2018.

“We have our work cut out for us,” Babin said. “It could be a toss up in some of these districts. I’m disappointed and sad to see some of my colleagues retiring. It certainly makes it tougher to hang on” to their seats.

In the Senate, Cornyn could be in for a bruising race. Former Rep. Beto O’Rourke’s narrow loss to Republican Sen. Ted Cruz in 2018 gave Democrats hope and Republicans anxiety. In one sign of potential concern about Democrats’ inroads in the state, Trump’s campaign is currently spending more money on digital ads in Texas than any other state.

Some GOP lawmakers and strategists think Democrats are getting ahead of themselves. Trump won the state by nine points in 2016, and Mitt Romney carried it by 16 points in 2012. Calls in the Democratic primary for a “Green New Deal” and Medicare for all, they say, are not going to play well in much of the state.

“Texans aren’t buying what they’re selling,” said Roy, a member of the conservative House Freedom Caucus, who is being challenged by former Democratic state senator and failed gubernatorial candidate Wendy Davis. But “we’re taking nothing for granted,” he added.

Republicans are grappling with a population surge in the metropolitan areas of Texas, which has changed the political winds and ushered in more minorities, liberals and young people.

“Theybring a different set of values, a different set of ideals. We’re not unmindful of this,” Weber said. “Republicans woke up because they understand what’s at stake.”

Hurd, the only black Republican in the House and the only GOP member to represent a border town, says he was able to hang on to his Hillary Clinton-won district by engaging early and often with the minority communities in his district.

But Hurd also acknowledged that it can be difficult for the party to appeal to young and diverse voters when the president is lobbing racist attacks at female lawmakers of color or disparaging Baltimore as a “rodent infested mess.”

“That kind of rhetoric hurts when you’re trying to take a message to a group of people. … Those words can overshadow the benefits that are actually happening for certain communities,” he said, pointing to low unemployment numbers among Latinos and African-Americans. “But you can’t share that story when you’re talking about whether or not you’re a racist.”

#brace #drubbing #Foreign #Politics

0 notes

aimitcrabtree · 7 years

Text

March Round Table

ASQ selects a quality-themed topic or question for Influential Voices bloggers to discuss as part of a round table. This post,s topic is:

How can we prevent quality professionals from being perceived as a “thing of the past”? What adaptations need to occur in the quality industry as a whole and on the individual level to revitalize the industry and attract the next generation of quality professionals?

Daniel John Zrymiak is from Surrey, British Columbia, Canada. He has worked in quality for two decades, mostly recently at Accenture as a Mobilization Lead. Daniel is active in ASQ as a Quality Press author and reviewer, member leader, and Technical Committee chair (Finance and Governance – Quality Management Division). He blogs at AQualitEvolution.

Guy Bigwood Is based in Spain, Guy Bigwood is the sustainability director of MCI, an association management company. He is responsible implementing corporate social responsibility throughout MCI’s 48 global offices, and manages a global consulting practice that provides strategic guidance to businesses, associations, governments, and the United Nations. His blog is Less Conversation More Action.

Luigi Sille is the Quality Manager at Red Cross Blood Bank Foundation in Curaçao, an island in the Caribbean. He has been a senior ASQ member since 2014, and blogs at sharequality.wordpress.com.

Sara Haynes is a chemical engineer but hasn’t let that stop her from developing a personality. Sara is a certified Six Sigma Black Belt and Quality Engineer, a Lean project manager, holds a Mastery of Re-Engineering and a green belt in QFD. Prior to consulting, Sara was the Director of Operational Excellence at SMART Technologies, one of the top 20 high-tech firms in Canada. She has over 15 years experience in developing and implementing continuous improvement programs and executing business process transformations in a wide range of industries she blogs at Six Sigma Solutions.

Pam Schodt is an ASQ Certified Quality Engineer and a member of the Raleigh, North Carolina, section of ASQ, where she volunteers on the Communication Committee. Her blog, Quality Improvements in Work and Life, includes posts about certification testing, book reviews, and lifestyle issues. She also blogs about technology issues and gardening on two other blogs. Currently, she is active as an iStock photo contributor and social media advisor.

Daniel John Zyrmiak

Ikigai of a Quality Professional The Ikigai framework intersects our mission, passion, profession, and vocation. Using this framework, we can define an ideal Quality Professional, encapsulating four distinct characteristics:

Altruist emphasizing improvement, sustainability, and innovation;

Practitioner of quality control or assurance activities;

Intellect proficient in STEM subjects, communications, and humanities;

Steward with professional diligence and accountability.

Also, by containing the following Distractors, we can avoid situations that besmirch the impressions of Quality professionals.

Silver Bullets: Quality practices (i.e. automated testing, Kaizen blitz), which can be effective within a structured quality framework, are promoted as instant solutions. When lofty expectations don’t materialize, all future Quality initiatives are received with disdain and cynicism.

Generational Buzzwords: This pertains to schemes which are overused, transcending original context, leading to misinterpretation and mockery. Past examples include Total Quality Management, Business Process Engineering, Balanced Scorecard, and now current practices like Six Sigma and Lean are equally disparaged.

Instant “Expertise”: Unilateral claims of expertise, without having a proven track record or a history of valid, peer reviewed publications or credentials, reminds me of a movie character.

Without professional barriers to entry of education, duration of service, and technical proficiency, many individuals unilaterally declare their own expertise and penetrate the marketplace, diluting the image and stature of Quality practitioners. This is supplemented by questionable providers who offer ad hoc credentials without prerequisite qualifications or examinations.

As Quality Professionals, we must distinguish ourselves from our Distractors by adopting the traits of diligent Practitioners, accountable Stewards, versatile Intellects, and innovative Altrusits. Like the Pioneers of Quality (i.e. Deming, Shewhart, Juran), we must demonstrate our example in work and life with conviction and authenticity.

Guy Bigwood

I have never considered myself as part of the quality industry. Yet my career has been focused on driving quality and improving results. I use the same tools and processes as quality professionals but my viewpoint is different from many of the “gurus” I have worked with. Perhaps this is something quality professionals around the world should consider. It’s the results that matter and not the language or tools you use to get there.

Luigi Sille

How can we prevent quality professionals from being perceived as a “thing of the past”?

Quality is a process. It’s a process that can help any organization in their journey for continual improvement. Continuous improvement of their products and/or services, this is one of the most important aspects of a quality management system. Continuous improvement has an influence on customers. Customer satisfaction is another important aspect of a quality management system. Customer satisfaction is the key to staying in business.

We, as quality professionals, must keep doing our job and keep showing senior management where they can eliminate waste, improve the quality of the products and/or service. Better quality results in happy clients, so we can talk about customer retention, and getting new customers. We need to show them that our actions will have a positive impact on the organization. Senior management has to become an active part of the whole quality management system. In the past people thought that quality professionals were like COPS of an organization. We, as quality professionals, we are not cops; we are here to guide the process, to coach and educate others. Quality Professionals are a part of the team, and are not above the team. We are very valuable for any organization trying to move on, trying to deliver better quality of products and/or service. Quality professionals need to put more emphasis on prevention rather than inspection, more emphasis on coaching, educating and inspiring others to deliver quality. We need to work as a team, to keep improving the process.

What adaptations need to occur in the quality industry as a whole and on the individual level to revitalize the industry and attract the next generation of quality professionals?

If you ask around, a lot of people don’t even know what quality professionals do. While attending school, quality was never brought up, it never even occurred to me that a career in quality was possible. Why is that? When I started attending the ASQ WCQI, I realized that quality professionals were becoming more and more active. But when you leave after the conference, what then? What do you as a quality professional do to motivate, educate and inspire others around you?

We as quality professionals must do more. Start educating people close to us, like family and friends. Talk about quality, the importance of quality, continual improvement, customer satisfaction, and what we as quality professionals do. It’s up to us quality professionals to educate the community, so progressively more young adults get interested/inspired to start their journey as a quality professional.

It’s up to us as quality professionals to spread the word!

Sara Haynes

The “Sweet Spot” for Quality when I was first put in charge of quality for a manufacturing organization, my boss cautioned me against over-rotating on quality. “Over-rotate???” I thought, “How could we have too much quality?” But unless your quality department is staffed by volunteers, there is a cost to inspections and audits, as well as quality techniques like FMEA and Six Sigma.

Juran and Feigenbaum describe this balance in the Total Cost of Quality.

Basically, you want the costs of quality (like inspections, FMEA’s, etc.) to balance out the costs of poor quality (like recalls, high warranty costs, damage to brand reputation, etc.) It’s a constant balancing act – the magic is in finding that “sweet spot”

where customers are satisfied and costs are minimized. That sweet spot is going to be different for each company – depending on whether you are manufacturing a Lexus or a Kia. And the sweet spot can shift can change dramatically and unpredictably with the introduction of new competitors that suddenly raise customer expectations.

As quality professionals, one of our roles is to search out that “sweet spot” of quality for our organizations and clients. One way is to shift prevention and appraisal costs ever lower through innovation, in the form of new technology, new concepts and new skills. Some of the best technological innovations I’ve seen in quality include on-line surveillance and monitoring of off-shore manufacturers. This reduces the cost of travelling to manufacturing locations or hiring local staff to oversee production quality control, as well detecting and correcting quality problems before you have a warehouse full of defective products. Other innovations in the field of quality include new concepts like poka-yoke or rapid-deployment QFD.

What new innovations are you excited about in the field of Quality?

Pam Schodt

Young people may be less aware of the quality profession because it is not a stand-alone industry. Those who take pride in their work in any organization, however, would support excellence in quality.

From airbags to pharmaceuticals, digital communications publicize quality issues to the general population. The next step then is to promote solutions with management of quality systems by quality professionals.

Quality professionals should employ marketing to promote the field. Participate in company tours to shine a light on quality positions in your organization.

Publicize your quality systems as opportunities arise with marketing documents and local media coverage. Rather than wait for the subject to be brought up in Q&A, seize the opportunity to talk about quality systems. This can lead to questions about educational requirements, certifications, and careers in quality. Actively represent the quality system in your organization.

The Raleigh chapter of ASQ promotes quality as a profession with support of a student chapter at North Carolina State University. Students are encouraged to attend meetings and conferences at discount rates. A scholarship award contest is offered to “encourage students to seek quality concepts, technology, and tools to improve the workplace, products, and themselves.”

from A View from the Q http://asq.org/blog/2017/03/15/march-round-table/

#IFTTT #A View from the Q

0 notes

eltonjhays · 7 years

Text

March Round Table

ASQ selects a quality-themed topic or question for Influential Voices bloggers to discuss as part of a round table. This post,s topic is:

Luigi Sille is the Quality Manager at Red Cross Blood Bank Foundation in Curaçao, an island in the Caribbean. He has been a senior ASQ member since 2014, and blogs at sharequality.wordpress.com.

Daniel John Zyrmiak

Altruist emphasizing improvement, sustainability, and innovation;

Practitioner of quality control or assurance activities;

Intellect proficient in STEM subjects, communications, and humanities;

Steward with professional diligence and accountability.

Also, by containing the following Distractors, we can avoid situations that besmirch the impressions of Quality professionals.

Instant “Expertise”: Unilateral claims of expertise, without having a proven track record or a history of valid, peer reviewed publications or credentials, reminds me of a movie character.

Guy Bigwood

Luigi Sille

How can we prevent quality professionals from being perceived as a “thing of the past”?

What adaptations need to occur in the quality industry as a whole and on the individual level to revitalize the industry and attract the next generation of quality professionals?

It’s up to us as quality professionals to spread the word!

Sara Haynes

Juran and Feigenbaum describe this balance in the Total Cost of Quality.

What new innovations are you excited about in the field of Quality?

Pam Schodt

Quality professionals should employ marketing to promote the field. Participate in company tours to shine a light on quality positions in your organization.

from A View from the Q http://asq.org/blog/2017/03/15/march-round-table/

0 notes