“To be Black, poor, and uneducated in America is, arguably, a more desperate and intractable predicament today than it was forty or fifty years ago. I say “arguably” because in terms of material possessions and physical living conditions there has been obvious improvement. Housing is less squalid and overcrowded than it once was for poor Black people. The wholesale transfer of manufacturing to China robbed unskilled American workers of jobs, but that phenomenon, plus the rise of discount retailers like Wal-Mart, drove prices so low that former luxuries came within reach of practically everyone—-televisions, household appliances, mobile phones, flashy “gold” jewelry made out of nickel or zinc. The poor certainly don’t look as poor as they once did. But in most other ways, the situation and prospects of the Abandoned Black poor have worsened. There is no need to list, once again, all the many interlocking problems and crises that afflict impoverished African-American urban and rural communities. It suffices to ask one question: HOW IS A TEENAGER LIVING IN ABANDONED DYSFUNCTION TODAY SUPPOSED TO ESCAPE? By following the sage advice of parents and other mentors? The teenager is likely being raised by a single mother, who herself was raised by a single mother. By attending first-class public schools, with constructive academic support at home? We know all about the failings of big-city public education. By landing a blue-collar industrial job with security, benefits, and a middle-class wage? Those jobs can be found in China or Brazil, not Cincinnati or Boston. The ladder that generations have used to climb out of poverty is missing its rungs.”
— Disintegration - The Splintering of Black America
People want to talk about America like it’s the greatest nation on this earth, and Americans are the greatest people ever… until one of them needs help. People love to talk about the American Dream, the American Experiment, or “Truth, Justice, and the American Way.” But America is more than an idea or set of ideals. America is an engine. More than American Progress; America is progress. What is America if not the idea that anyone can make it; the promise of a better life, and the engine for elevating people into both? “America” is literally that engine; it is the machine for improving everyone’s quality of life (ideally, equally). If we forsake that, then we forsake America itself.
i fucking hate how nervous people make me like i can’t even walk down the road without feeling judged and that is just ridiculous.
my solution for this is whenever i feel paralyzed by judgement, i just imagine grabbing random passersby by the lapels and shouting at them: “WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE ME??!”
i mean, i never would, but partly the ridiculousness of the mental image is what makes me giggle inwardly, and golly gosh imagining their reaction also helps (because omg they’re worried about the same thing and when you imagine them feeling judged by you judging them for judging you which is what they’re worried about and you’re worried about and and—the whole thing implodes under the weight of the silliness of it all)
(it always ends in my imagination with me giving them a hug, because we’re all in this same boat, rite?)
A bunch of people not typically represented in media and essentially invisible in society, like non-binary folks, genderfluid people, people with fluid sexuality, nerds of color (esp. black nerds), queer people of color, transpeople of color, and beyond; and all these things in all kinds of combinations, too. They hang around their supersecret lair / clubhouse just being normal people, until the alarm sounds and they must go out into the world to defend the oppressed…
Which is when they have to put on their… Masks. (Which is also the name of the show/comic/whatever… “Masks”.)
Ernest Hemingway was lunching at the Algonquin, sitting at the famous “round table” with several writers, claiming he could write a seven-word-long short story. The other writers balked. Hemingway told them to ante up ten dollars each. If he was wrong, he would match it; if he was right, he would keep the pot. He quickly wrote seven words on a napkin and passed it around.
The words were: “Obama chuckled. ‘You mean the Chaos Emeralds?’ ”
So if we have to show women what the baby looks like in their womb and tell them how the process works before allowing them to get an abortion, does that mean we should teach our soldiers about the culture of the lands we’re invading, and explain to them that the people we want them to kill have families and feel pain, just like Americans?