Hello friends and fam,
My puppy and I, Mary, found a safe place and a loving community in Austin, but I’m struggling to find work. I have been able to pay for January’s rent in Atlanta, travel expenses, and my car payment since December with the help of folk like you, and I’m forever grateful. The work I’ve been able to get has not helped much, and I’m again in need of help. I have no money for rent(although the people I’m living with have been very understanding so far), and bill collectors are calling and threatening to send my case to collections. I haven’t been able to afford flea or heartworm medication for my dog, and the stress, combined with the work I’m doing and help I’m attempting to get for PTSD has made every day a struggle.
Help if you can. If not, thanks for reading and spreading!
History below:
grrlyman:

Enakai needs your help
In December my four year relationship ended, my employment ended, and I was hospitalized against my will. I’m down to my last $40. Like most folks of color, I hate asking for help, but with no family and no money coming in, I’m desperate. I’ve been selling things on ebay and etsy, trying to make money any way I can, and applying for jobs, but I have to admit that I need help. I still have to pay $175 on a traffic ticket I’ve paid half of, first and last month’s rent for the new place I move, and $400 to drive across country. This brings it to a little over 1500, so I’m asking for that amount and hoping that I’ll be able to get enough from the side jobs I’m doing to cover food and anything else that comes up. If people are able to lend instead of donate, that would be preferable. There’s also a donation link for paypal on my blog.
A short version of my story is below, for anyone who cares:My family life was always abusive and unstable, which meant that up until the age of 11 I was regularly homeless, starving, or subjected to violence and sexual assault. After that, I lived with my father, whose neglect was welcomed over what I’d come from. Shortly after coming out as a lesbian I was raped for the second time at 13, and my father decided that I was either lying or bringing it on myself and institutionalized me. After I got out, he moved me to Georgia, in part for the better job opportunities for a black man in Atlanta, and in part to avoid the rape trial. His girlfriend soon kicked me out for making a necklace that said, “dyke,” and I lived with friends, worked, and eventually bought a $100 car to live in.If it weren’t for the help of some friends and a couple high school teachers I can’t even imagine where I’d be, but they helped me stay safe, and encouraged me to graduate and apply to colleges. I got a full scholarship, and was able to move into dorms, giving me a place to stay during the school year. Without family, and with loosing a lot of the support from high school, college was overwhelming. The addictive personality I’ve struggled with since childhood took over, and I was soon doing a lot of coke. Eventually I switched to meth and stopped attending classes. Luckily, a professor stepped in and encouraged me to go to a rehab for homeless women, where I stayed for 2 years.At 24 I graduated college, took a job as a case manager for people with developmental disabilities, and settled into my first real home. It’s the first place I was ever allowed to decorate, the first place that felt mine. I’ve lived here for 3 years now, and it’s the longest I’ve ever stayed anywhere. In December my relationship ended due to my white partner’s racism. It was devastating, losing the family and home I’d worked so hard to build. Things got very dark, and I considered suicide. Instead, I was involuntarily institutionalized for 2 days where I was mistreated and misgendered, exacerbating the hopelessness I was feeling. I got out feeling no better, but as the days have passed I’ve been reminded by friends and loved ones of my strength and purpose. I want to live again.It’s time to move on, though. While I love the south, it doesn’t feel like home to me, and having gotten a glimpse of what that can feel like, I’m going to find it again. Help if you can. If not, thanks for reading and spreading!

Hello friends and fam,

My puppy and I, Mary, found a safe place and a loving community in Austin, but I’m struggling to find work. I have been able to pay for January’s rent in Atlanta, travel expenses, and my car payment since December with the help of folk like you, and I’m forever grateful. The work I’ve been able to get has not helped much, and I’m again in need of help. I have no money for rent(although the people I’m living with have been very understanding so far), and bill collectors are calling and threatening to send my case to collections. I haven’t been able to afford flea or heartworm medication for my dog, and the stress, combined with the work I’m doing and help I’m attempting to get for PTSD has made every day a struggle.

Help if you can. If not, thanks for reading and spreading!

History below:

grrlyman:

Enakai needs your help

In December my four year relationship ended, my employment ended, and I was hospitalized against my will. I’m down to my last $40. Like most folks of color, I hate asking for help, but with no family and no money coming in, I’m desperate. I’ve been selling things on ebay and etsy, trying to make money any way I can, and applying for jobs, but I have to admit that I need help. I still have to pay $175 on a traffic ticket I’ve paid half of, first and last month’s rent for the new place I move, and $400 to drive across country. This brings it to a little over 1500, so I’m asking for that amount and hoping that I’ll be able to get enough from the side jobs I’m doing to cover food and anything else that comes up. If people are able to lend instead of donate, that would be preferable. There’s also a donation link for paypal on my blog.


A short version of my story is below, for anyone who cares:

My family life was always abusive and unstable, which meant that up until the age of 11 I was regularly homeless, starving, or subjected to violence and sexual assault. After that, I lived with my father, whose neglect was welcomed over what I’d come from. Shortly after coming out as a lesbian I was raped for the second time at 13, and my father decided that I was either lying or bringing it on myself and institutionalized me. After I got out, he moved me to Georgia, in part for the better job opportunities for a black man in Atlanta, and in part to avoid the rape trial. His girlfriend soon kicked me out for making a necklace that said, “dyke,” and I lived with friends, worked, and eventually bought a $100 car to live in.

If it weren’t for the help of some friends and a couple high school teachers I can’t even imagine where I’d be, but they helped me stay safe, and encouraged me to graduate and apply to colleges. I got a full scholarship, and was able to move into dorms, giving me a place to stay during the school year. Without family, and with loosing a lot of the support from high school, college was overwhelming. The addictive personality I’ve struggled with since childhood took over, and I was soon doing a lot of coke. Eventually I switched to meth and stopped attending classes. Luckily, a professor stepped in and encouraged me to go to a rehab for homeless women, where I stayed for 2 years.

At 24 I graduated college, took a job as a case manager for people with developmental disabilities, and settled into my first real home. It’s the first place I was ever allowed to decorate, the first place that felt mine. I’ve lived here for 3 years now, and it’s the longest I’ve ever stayed anywhere. In December my relationship ended due to my white partner’s racism. It was devastating, losing the family and home I’d worked so hard to build. Things got very dark, and I considered suicide. Instead, I was involuntarily institutionalized for 2 days where I was mistreated and misgendered, exacerbating the hopelessness I was feeling. I got out feeling no better, but as the days have passed I’ve been reminded by friends and loved ones of my strength and purpose. I want to live again.

It’s time to move on, though. While I love the south, it doesn’t feel like home to me, and having gotten a glimpse of what that can feel like, I’m going to find it again. Help if you can. If not, thanks for reading and spreading!


I need white people to stop pretending consent was possible during slavery.

Stop lying to yourselves that those black cousins are the result of illicit love affairs & grasp that slaves could not say no.

When consent is not an option, when you’re only seen as 3/5ths of a human being & you have no legal standing? You can’t say yes.

I need white America to sit down for a sec. Look into the faces of black Americans with the same last names & figure it the fuck out.

Our ancestors were raped by your ancestors. Regularly. Some of the kids were treated kindly. Most were not. They were sold.

White mistresses punished the slaves for “tempting” master & congratulated themselves on that bloody work. Read the narratives.

Not the cleaned up ones either. Read Incidents in The Life of A Slave Girl & understand that Mammy was a victim, not the one who loved you.

She couldn’t care for her kids, couldn’t choose her husband or their father most of the time. She was a slave.

Millions of people died on the Middle Passage. Millions more died here at the hands of your ancestors. Own that.

Now you want to sing Kumbaya & keep oppressing our communities & erasing our contributions. Spare me the tired bullshit.

Male slaves fared no better. There’s a long history of them being raped, tortured & killed too. That was slavery. Stop romanticizing it.

Our children were fed to alligators as bait (feel free to look that up) died of starvation or exposure & that was slavery too. Yep, we were livestock & you use sickly livestock as bait.

Stop watching Gone With The Wind & fantasizing about beautiful plantations if you can’t accept what happened on those plantations.

House slaves had it better in the sense of access to food & possibly better treatment, but they were still slaves.

14 year old slave girls weren’t falling in love with the men who could beat them & everyone they loved to death.

Read the tales of enslaved women who killed their children to spare them. Read about people beaten to death as an example.

Sally Hemings could have left Jefferson in Paris. Of course her entire family was still in his power. And his “love”? Didn’t free her. Ever.

Go look at the pictures of former slaves backs. Whipped until they bled & left to scar so they were maimed for life & couldn’t run.

Also before you talk about the cleaned up narratives, remember that the people relating their stories knew lynching was always possible.

Records of slavery were deliberately destroyed so that former owners wouldn’t have to pay anyone.

That “peculiar institution” was generations of blood, pain, & terror. That’s what built America. Never forget that.

Now stop talking about anyone’s white ancestors like they deserve the fucking credit for the success of people descended from slaves.

American slavery began in 1619. June 19, 1865 was the last official day of slavery. Do the math on how long it takes to heal that wound.

After slavery was officially over? Black codes & Jim Crow laws followed. America’s history of oppression is longer than that of freedom.

Also before any d*mb motherfuckers land in my mentions. I have a degree in history. I will read you to filth & bury you in sources.

Trust & believe there is no country here for people who want to romanticize a system that is still grinding away at my community.

All this fluffy fucking talk about American history to coddle white kids feelings & engender patriotism? You won’t get it here.

My ancestors built this country, I served this country & I will tell the damned truth about this country. Don’t like it? Fuck you.

Now let me get in my feelings about slavery before Africans were brought here. Because we weren’t the first people enslaved.

We were deliberately sought out for our skill sets & resistance to disease. Know why we were resistant? We’d had contact for years.

All of that “My ancestors never owned slaves so it has nothing to do with me?” Go look at those NDN ancestors again. See how many were free.

While you’re in there checking that out? Look up those old country ancestors & see how many benefited from slavery indirectly.

Also while we’re talking about NDN relatives? Yo, learn a name besides Cherokee. Better yet, learn about the genocidal tactics they faced.

Look up immigrant groups becoming white in America. Find out who had to bleed so they could gain access to white privilege.

Let’s really talk about the Red Summer of 1919 & how it wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Tulsa, Rosewood? They were just famous.

Let’s talk about welfare & who could access it. Hell let’s talk about who is collecting more of it right now.

Let’s talk about the primary beneficiaries of affirmative action (spoiler! White women!) & what it means to attack black people instead.

Shit, let’s get into the Great Depression & the Great Recession & who is hurting the most financially through both.

Let’s talk about conditions on reservations, in the inner city, & the violence faced by POC who try to leave those areas.

Hell, let’s talk about why we don’t see shows that reflect the American population set in the past, present, or future.

Go read Columbus’ diaries & see what “civilization” really meant to the people he encountered.

For that matter go read up on King Leopold & the Congo. I’ll wait while you cry.

That’s the thing about whiteness as a social construct in America. It’s not about white people, it’s about white power over others.

When we’re talking about white privilege? We’re talking about what it takes to shape this society based on oppression.

America is a young country with a lot of power because of genocide, slavery, & continuing oppression. Individuals build institutions.

All of these conversations aren’t about bringing out white guilt, they’re about ending this institution developed over the generations.

Also let’s be clear that America is sick with this ish across the political spectrum. It may manifest differently but it exists everywhere.

Before I go, let me also suggest that people who are curious about anything I tweeted about take a tour through Google with terms.

It’s not that I won’t answer questions, but there are books out there that I think everyone should read on slavery, whiteness, & America.

Karnythia,  laying it down with righteousness on Juneteenth — the truth about slavery and its lingering effects on America.  (via skyliting)

I don’t want to see tl;dr no you ALL need to fucking read this. (via thisisnotblackhistorymonth)

(via queerandpresentdanger)


What can you even say to a person so damn invested in white supremacy that they believe calling a white person a racist for calling you a nigger is worse than them calling you a nigger. Babydoll, I hope you find something else to live for because they’ll never truly love you.

What can you even say to a person so damn invested in white supremacy that they believe calling a white person a racist for calling you a nigger is worse than them calling you a nigger. Babydoll, I hope you find something else to live for because they’ll never truly love you.


zuky:

life:

Seventy years after race riots tore through Detroit in June 1943, we offer a series of photos from a great American city in turmoil.
(Gordon Coster—Time & Life Pictures/Getty Images)

The so-called “Greatest Generation” of white people rioted against Black workers coming Detroit to build bombers and boats in war-mobilized factories, killing 25 African Americans in 3 days of rioting.

zuky:

life:

Seventy years after race riots tore through Detroit in June 1943, we offer a series of photos from a great American city in turmoil.

(Gordon Coster—Time & Life Pictures/Getty Images)

The so-called “Greatest Generation” of white people rioted against Black workers coming Detroit to build bombers and boats in war-mobilized factories, killing 25 African Americans in 3 days of rioting.

(via so-treu)


To the white queers who have ever thought of me as mean, divisive, sensitive, angry, hard to get to know, bitter, arrogant, unkind:

It has taken you a lifetime of misdirection to be able to rewrite reality as it’s happening, to believe that your fear and privilege is love and tolerance. Who told you that allowing others to be hurt in order to stay friends with racists is tolerance? Who told you that climbing up the backs of POC and speaking for us so you can be seen and heard is love? Who told you that I thought so little of myself that I would let you kiss the mouths of people who use words that my people have been whipped with, continue to be whipped with, and then kiss mine? When you say that you know someone is doing something racist, sexist, etc, but you still believe they are a good person, what you are saying is, “this person is a racist, but I’m white, so it doesn’t hurt me.” I’m done with people who don’t know my worth, who don’t know that to know me is to be blessed, to be loved by me is a gift. I will never again let you tell me that I’m the one who doesn’t know love.


No. When a space is lacking in poc representation and involvement it’s a good sign that the space is upholding white supremacy. In your case this involves, at least in part, posting pictures of white people with culturally appropriative tattoos and body modifications as well as white shitlocks. You’ve also remained purely submission oriented when it’s obvious that the majority of your followers are white, cis, and straight. I would also suggest you think about why you thought to seek out submissions instead of moderators. Instead of including poc in the blog you’ve decided to find cool pictures of us to make you look more inclusive. Poc aren’t submitting to your blog because it is not a safe space. A few tokenizing pictures won’t change that.

No. When a space is lacking in poc representation and involvement it’s a good sign that the space is upholding white supremacy. In your case this involves, at least in part, posting pictures of white people with culturally appropriative tattoos and body modifications as well as white shitlocks. You’ve also remained purely submission oriented when it’s obvious that the majority of your followers are white, cis, and straight. I would also suggest you think about why you thought to seek out submissions instead of moderators. Instead of including poc in the blog you’ve decided to find cool pictures of us to make you look more inclusive. Poc aren’t submitting to your blog because it is not a safe space. A few tokenizing pictures won’t change that.


Hip-hop was a problem because an underclass that had been left to die didn’t, and instead created a music decrying their conditions that was vivid, troubling and beautiful, a declaration of existence in the face of those who’d condemned them to oblivion. It screwed up the narrative, and thus was born an anti-rap racism in which symptom became cause, laments of violence and deprivation becoming justifications for violence and deprivation. Anti-rap racists hear rap music as proof that black men pose a uniquely violent danger to the American status quo, even as the entire trajectory of that status quo suggests it’s the other way around. As theories of history go it’s both aggressively incorrect and depressingly unoriginal.

Disliking hip-hop doesn’t make you a racist any more than liking hip-hop makes you not a racist, and I’m sure there are plenty of Stormfront enthusiasts with Rick Ross in their iTunes. If you don’t like Jay-Z because you just don’t like the way he sounds, or you’re sick of his cloying ubiquity, or you wish he’d talk about something other than where he’s from for five seconds—hey, I’m not mad, I don’t like Bruce Springsteen for the same reasons. But if you don’t like rap music—a genre that contains multitudes—because of a self-satisfied moralism, or because you’re scared of it, or because you wish those people would stop talking about their problems and get out of your television and radio and kids’ bedrooms: well.

And I’m not just talking about the American right, I’m talking about all the well-meaning white folks who’ve told me how they want to like Lil Wayne but lo, the misogyny, the violence, the drugs. But, but, I’ll say: Bob Dylan aced misogyny; the Rolling Stones sang about violence; the Velvet Underground knew their way around some drugs. Yeeeah, but it’s different, they’ll say, elongating that “yeah” with conspiratorial inflection: you know what I mean. Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.

Rap music doesn’t get unarmed kids shot to death, “it’s different” does. “It’s different” infuses “these assholes always get away” and gives solace to people who hear that sound bite and nod their empty heads in agreement. “It’s different” is the same logic that suggests a teenager’s skin color combined with the music he listened to means he had it coming, and it’s the same logic that lets a bunch of people feign outrage over a teenager’s use of the n-word to describe himself when they’re really just outraged that he beat them to the punch.

I have to add this to the Sharon Needles wikipedia page at least weekly. One of the people who keeps deleting it has threatened to get me banned for vandalism. One of the people who keeps deleting it is a wikipedia administrator. All of this information is verified.

I have to add this to the Sharon Needles wikipedia page at least weekly. One of the people who keeps deleting it has threatened to get me banned for vandalism. One of the people who keeps deleting it is a wikipedia administrator. All of this information is verified.


angryasiangirlsunited:

the-uncensored-she:

What parents of color and “third-world”/Global South parents— and their children— must endure everyday.

I would rather not know the struggles of being a third world mama in the Western diaspora. I would rather be ignorant of what cruelty my mama endured, that made her instill an idea that has crippled me emotionally. There are days I excuse my mama, I think “she didn’t know no better!” but time ticks and soon enough, I am overwhelmed by a wicked truth… she did know better and for that I will always be bittersweetly grateful. 


siddharthasmama:

rebelion-silenciosa:

aboutmaleprivilege:

brashblacknonbeliever:

punjabi-rani:

wellhellolovely:

Had you any idea that Emmett Till’s final words were some of boldest in American history?
Milam: “You still as good as I am?”
Till: “Yeah.”
Milam: “You still ‘had’ white women?”
Till: “Yeah.”
Keep in mind that that’s after two grown men had tortured him for hours. Milam would later say that, following that exchange, he had no choice but to kill the 14-year-old boy:
“Well, what else could we do? He was hopeless. I’m no bully; I never hurt a n*gger in my life. I like n*ggers—in their place—I know how to work ‘em. But I just decided it was time a few people got put on notice. As long as I live and can do anything about it, n*ggers are gonna stay in their place. N*ggers ain’t gonna vote where I live. If they did, they’d control the government. They ain’t gonna go to school with my kids. And when a n*gger gets close to mentioning sex with a white woman, he’s tired o’ livin’. I’m likely to kill him. Me and my folks fought for this country, and we got some rights. I stood there in that shed and listened to that n*gger throw that poison at me, and I just made up my mind. ‘Chicago boy,’ I said, ‘I’m tired of ‘em sending your kind down here to stir up trouble. Goddam you, I’m going to make an example of you—just so everybody can know how me and my folks stand.’”

still less than 60 years ago white folks.

Just 57 years ago. Think long and hard about that. 57 years. That’s not that long.

That’s how privilege sounds.
“I like them, but in their place. I like them, but they’re not as good as me. I like them, but I’ll kill/assault/make life hell for them because I feel it is my right to do so.”

He calls it “poison” - being denied his ubiquitous privilege for even a moment - was venomous to his psyche.
No way in hell that fucked up mentality just evaporated from his generation - we all know, it was instilled far further back - yet that’s the beginning of every “we’re not like that” excuse: that somehow THIS time period was one of great justice and change.

If that mans words don’t make your stomach turn, you just might be a white supremacist/sympathizer. I got chills. I’ve read it before, but god damn, it is so hateful and HIS words are poisonous. Racism is a poison, a disease in society, and it has not been eradicated. I mean, my grandmother was 12 when this happened, and she’s not yet an ‘old woman’.

siddharthasmama:

rebelion-silenciosa:

aboutmaleprivilege:

brashblacknonbeliever:

punjabi-rani:

wellhellolovely:

Had you any idea that Emmett Till’s final words were some of boldest in American history?

Milam: “You still as good as I am?”

Till: “Yeah.”

Milam: “You still ‘had’ white women?”

Till: “Yeah.”

Keep in mind that that’s after two grown men had tortured him for hours. Milam would later say that, following that exchange, he had no choice but to kill the 14-year-old boy:

“Well, what else could we do? He was hopeless. I’m no bully; I never hurt a n*gger in my life. I like n*ggers—in their place—I know how to work ‘em. But I just decided it was time a few people got put on notice. As long as I live and can do anything about it, n*ggers are gonna stay in their place. N*ggers ain’t gonna vote where I live. If they did, they’d control the government. They ain’t gonna go to school with my kids. And when a n*gger gets close to mentioning sex with a white woman, he’s tired o’ livin’. I’m likely to kill him. Me and my folks fought for this country, and we got some rights. I stood there in that shed and listened to that n*gger throw that poison at me, and I just made up my mind. ‘Chicago boy,’ I said, ‘I’m tired of ‘em sending your kind down here to stir up trouble. Goddam you, I’m going to make an example of you—just so everybody can know how me and my folks stand.’”

still less than 60 years ago white folks.

Just 57 years ago. Think long and hard about that. 57 years. That’s not that long.

That’s how privilege sounds.

“I like them, but in their place. I like them, but they’re not as good as me. I like them, but I’ll kill/assault/make life hell for them because I feel it is my right to do so.”

He calls it “poison” - being denied his ubiquitous privilege for even a moment - was venomous to his psyche.

No way in hell that fucked up mentality just evaporated from his generation - we all know, it was instilled far further back - yet that’s the beginning of every “we’re not like that” excuse: that somehow THIS time period was one of great justice and change.

If that mans words don’t make your stomach turn, you just might be a white supremacist/sympathizer. I got chills. I’ve read it before, but god damn, it is so hateful and HIS words are poisonous. Racism is a poison, a disease in society, and it has not been eradicated. I mean, my grandmother was 12 when this happened, and she’s not yet an ‘old woman’.

(via glitterlion)