“Really can’t stand the phrase “at risk youth”. At risk of what? Colonialism? Imperialism? Violence from the state that puts them at “risk”?”—Jessica Danforth, Native Youth Sexual Health Network (via marginalutilite)
“I am a Mohawk woman… You cannot ask me to speak as a woman because I cannot speak as just a woman. That is not the voice that I have been given. Gender does not transcend race. The voice that I have been given is the voice of a Mohawk woman and if you must talk to me about women, somewhere along the line you must talk about race.”—Patricia A. Monture-Okanee, “The Violence We Women Do: A First Nations View” (via taleth)
I refuse to speculate about Loretta’s death. What I do know is that our society has discarded indigenous women and girls in much the same manner for generations. These people were playing out a script that we all know intimately, but never acknowledge. I told a good friend of mine yesterday that there’s no conspiracy, there’s no mystery, Loretta will show up in a ditch like so many indigenous women before her. He was taken aback. I told him that’s the pattern.
It’s our doing, which Loretta articulated so clearly in her writing — theft of land base, legalized segregation and racism, residential schools for several generations, continued dispossession = social chaos.
It is a recipe for disaster for indigenous peoples, and especially indigenous women. Who suffers most when access to land, to the ecological order at the basis of most indigenous societies, is limited, controlled, or outright eliminated? Is that not what’s at the basis of a settler society like our own, eliminating indigenous peoples’ relationship to the land (and/or their actual bodies), so that can we plunder it for our gain?
All the while, through trickery and deceit, we convince our children that indigenous peoples are to blame for their condition, that through no fault of our own, they simply don’t understand how to live well in society.
“There is no language in itself, nor are there any linguistic universals, only a throng of dialects, patois, viperslangs, and specialized languages. There is no ideal speaker-listener, any more than there is a homogeneous linguistic community. Language is, in Weinreich’s words, “an essentially heterogeneous reality.” There is no mother tongue, only a power takeover by a dominant language within political multiplicity. Language stabilizes around a parish, a bishopric, a capital. It forms a bulb. It evolves by subterranean stems and flows, along river valleys or train tracks; it spreads like a patch of oil.”—
Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia
“The question regarding social media is actually the same as it is for the street: can you extricate the products of modernity from modernity itself? No. You can only fight to inch closer to the vision of the world you want, or carve out something resembling an ethical space for yourself. Sometimes that means abstaining, sometimes it means using things against the grain, and sometimes it means accepting that you can’t actually make a difference, so you may as well enjoy yourself along the way.”—What Do We Actually Want Social Media to Do? by Navneet Alang (February 19, 2014)
"My Body Is Not Your Battleground" is a photographic exploration of what it means to be a young South Asian woman today.
One of the most popular things I’ve ever shared on Tumblr was Sanaa Hamid’s simple and powerful “Cultural Appropriation: A Conversation” series. She’s launching a new series focusing on South Asian women, and you can help make it happen.
"One of the bright, glaring, non-negotiable truths I have learned, though, is to believe survivors. Believe them, even if they don’t remember everything. Believe them, even if they remember almost nothing. Believe them, even if the person they say raped them seems like the nicest person in the world to you. Believe them, even if it shatters your whole world to do so. Believe them, even if they don’t want to share details, or press charges, or ever talk about it again. Believe them, even if their story sounds implausible to you. Believe them, even if you don’t want to, even if it breaks your heart. “
“If I choose the side of the victim every time, I will likely be right more often than any other choice I make in my entire life. Those are odds I can live with. Those are the odds I choose. I am comfortable with that choice. I am prepared for the consequences of that choice. I practice self-care.”—From “Help Me Pull the Trigger” by Ashley Ford: http://www.ashleycford.net/blog/2014/2/3/help-me-pull-the-trigger (via therumpus)
“Because I am not on Woody Allen’s jury, I can be swayed by the fact that sexual violence is incredibly, horrifically common, much more common than it is for women to make up stories about sexual violence in pursuit of their own petty, vindictive need to destroy a great man’s reputation”—Woody Allen’s Good Name – The New Inquiry (via nathanjurgenson)
When we fetishize “long-form,” we are fetishizing the form and losing sight of its function. That’s how a story with a troubled woman who commits suicide at its center gets told as a writer’s quixotic quest to learn everything he can about the maker of a golf club that he stumbled across during a late-night Internet search for tips for his short game.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. I don’t write as much as I used to, but I read more than ever before. There are a few points in here I take to heart: I don’t reblog/retweet links to pieces I haven’t taken the time to read in full.
“What makes his sincerely held politics so obnoxious is the absence of deference and humility, his inability to recognize that he’s lecturing oppressed people rather than representing them. After Macklemore lamented “have you read the YouTube comments lately?” while mugging like he thinks a preacher does, a few dumb old tweets of his own circulated anew. I mention this not as a rote accusation of hypocrisy, but to demonstrate that political liberation requires more than convincing some obviously bad and wrong bigots that they’re bad and wrong—for example, resisting one’s complicity as a straight white men. He could try foregrounding that queer woman who sings the only part of his song nobody hates.”—
I had recently been wondering just how long I’ve had this tumblr, and then ta-dam, la journée même, an email appears in my inbox telling me it’s been 5 years. Five!
The way I use my tumblr has dramatically changed over the years, mostly for the best. It started out as a curiosity (what is this thing), evolved into a cabinet of curosities (look at all these things/follow all the things/reblog all the things), and slowly evolved in to a great space where I could process, digest, discover incredible artists, and space out. At first, I couldn’t get enough. Today, I reblog far less content. Along the way I’ve had my share of feuds and unwarranted dramas, but it wouldn’t be an “online community” if that didn’t happen. I’ve also had very shortlived side blogs (food, home, love, if you’re curious) that Pinterest has since replaced.
So basically, if you’ve stuck around for the long haul that must mean you really like me?
Another thing that’s quite amusing about taking the time to absorb the idea of FIVE YEARS on this kind of overwhelming/chaotic platform is how rarely I do look in my archives… but today I did, and now I can point to markers of time… like, yes, I tagged photos I took of myself as self-portraits, up until I realized what GPOYW stood for (when did we decide to drop the W?), and now I’m not even in the #selfie game. And yes, pop culture shit of course, seeing how I was already crushing on Léa Seydoux before all the other queers. That I was sharing Twin Peaks screencaps before it started streaming on Netflix. But mostly it’s the way I wrote: how I can tell who I was writing for, who I was reblogging from and why… wierd feelings that stay with you.
One thing hasn’t changed: how much it means when just one person ”likes” something meaningful you wrote (or in that specific case, tried to write). When people send me emails when I sad-blog, just to check in.
…And we all know I like to reflect in list form.
Favourite Tumblrs (Or, Tumblrs I’ve been following for so long I can’t quite remember what my dashboard looked like without them)
I think it was Iris who first helped me discover how shitty Tumblr’s search function was, so that if I ever wanted to find anything ever again I had to get the hang of using tags. So here are some of the ones I go back to often, and that I think my readers/watchers/creepers might enjoy as well:
“…what’s on my mind right now is this ongoing “conversation” that the Internet is having about how women are treated. It seems that after countless stories and articles (I’ve written one myself, though it’s about the abuse I faced for speaking in public rather than for being online) about this subject, we have finally penetrated (see what I did there?) to the point where men are hand-wringingly retweeting them and saying Very Serious Things like “If you read one thing today, read this,” before going back to linking other men and responding to other men and otherwise writing women out of any discussion that does not shrink us to the size of our bodies. Even on the Internet, where we are bodiless, it has to become about our bodies.”—Sarah Jaffe (in her sweet newsletter)