For those that still didn’t get it...

Dear Naruto Fandom, 

Please don’t mess up with Masashi Kishimoto at Comic Con. I don’t care if you didn’t like the end, or your shipping didn’t occur or whatever… That does not give you the right to go out cursing and offending others. You guys may not realize it but this silly fight has exactly the same patterns of the arguments of a prejudiced, xenophobic or a racist person. If you cannot live in harmony even with people who like the same thing you do, imagine try to live with people that have different ideologies or religions? What’ll you do? Beat them? It’s not for nothing that movements like the Islamic state is gaining more power…. What a shame…

SO PLEASE STOP THIS STUPID RIDICULOUS FIGHT!

BEYOND THE MOST IS SUCH A LACK OF RESPECT WITH THE AUTHOR, WHO HAS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT SOCIAL AND CULTURAL NOTIONS FROM US!!

P.S.: sorry if I made some grammatical errors, my native language is not English … btw this image does not belong to me…

I am absolutely sick of reading or seeing posts or Facebook statuses or news stories or reports or articles about sexism, feminism, racism, white privilege, corrupt cops in police states, riots, murders, bombings, shootings, black women hating on white women, white women hating on black women, ignorant white people giving people a reason to talk about white privilege, black men being labeled as thugs, a race defined by their actions to have equality that seem ludicrous to some with the opposite skin color because they couldn’t possibly fathom what oppression actually is, women being accused of hating men because they want equal rights, immigrants being shamed for illegally crossing borders to start a better life, war, poverty, famine, global warming, icebergs melting, extinction of animals at the hand of man, overfishing, pollution, littering, ISIS, terrorism, war for the sake of religion, war for the sake of money, war for the sake of who’s dick is bigger than whoms, innocent people dying because of any of the aforementioned woes above……………………..this world is so fucking ugly sometimes and the social media on EVERY platform including this one shoves it down your throat on a daily consistent basis.
It’s overwhelming.
It’s sometimes too much.
I see so many people posting constantly about equal rights for all, oppression, racism, sexism…….all these terrible fucking things we put each other through as humans and it is heartbreaking. It is disheartening that there cannot be equality without violence and corruption and senseless acts of murder and distress. I will never ever know what it is to walk in anyone else’s shoes but my own and I will never pretend to even try. I will never know what it is like to truly experience racial prejudice or oppression because I fall into the white privilege category. I am fully aware of this. I am fully aware of the constant and continuing struggles that those born with a different skin tone than mine will continue to face for God knows how fucking long. Until humanity removes its own head from its own ass and sees that we are all actually the fucking same and we are all uniquely beautiful. That we all deserve the opportunities to thrive, to live, to love, to experience daily harmony, to be a part of a belief system that wholly supports the fundamentals of being an enlightened human being and loving thy neighbor and friend for exactly who they are no matter what their background or where they come from.
I cannot wrap my head around the ugly truth that is being human.
I cannot wrap my head around the amount of people who experience these horrible circumstances on a daily basis and what trials they’ve been through.
I cannot wrap my head around the amount of people who are just completely unaware of how the world is crumbling around us at our feet. Not just the daily world we live in with all these terrible things that happened, but the actual Earth.
This planet we live and breathe on is suffering because of us. Because of our own need for consumption. We are dangerously close to losing it. We are dangerously close to the actual birth of a toxic wasteland, because it’s already been conceived and the birth of the toxic destruction of this planet we call home is imminent and we can’t just try harder as a species to be more understanding and loving and accepting of one another long enough to focus and reverse the irreparable damage we have placed upon this soil and these waters.
It makes me the most mad. Above all that truly angers me the most about humanity.
Without coming together at some point over the next few generations and decades we will actually lose everything and cease to possibly even exist.

The disappointment is deafening.

The day I bought steak with my food stamps

I cried every night, the week before I finally applied for food stamps. I was so ashamed. Food stamps are for losers, people who make stupid, irresponsible choices,people who want to live a life of luxury while other people work hard to pick up the slack. This I knew.

We were homeschooling, because the schools in our town were wretched. We were in that town because we were renting a house from my brother-in-law, because we had been evicted from our previous apartment, because the landlord had sold the duplex, and nobody else would rent to us because they thought we had too many kids for the size of apartment we could afford.

So there we were, in a dead end town. But we were getting by. I budgeted like a maniac, playing Scrooge with the precious hoard of toilet paper, detergent, and apples we could afford. I once bought a used linen toddler dress for four dollars and blushed the whole way home, nauseated with the extravagance of my purchase. It wasn’t a great way to live, but as long as my husband could get enough overtime hours and WIC kept us in cheese and Kix, and as long as the kids could stomach a rotation of pasta, hot dogs, bananas, and tuna noodle casserole, we were okay.

Then my husband’s employer cut the overtime hours, but still required everyone to hand in the same amount of work. No, it’s not exactly legal, but there weren’t any other jobs to be had that year. His schedule still varied wildly and unpredictably from day to day, and we couldn’t find any jobs that would make up the lost overtime income and allow him to show up at either 8 a.m. or 11:45 p.m., depending on what else he was doing.

Now the kids got hot dogs for supper, and the adults got a hot dog bun with ketchup. We figure and figured and figured, and discovered that, no matter how hard we squeezed, we were always going to be about forty dollars short of being able to eat and pay our basic bills. Just forty dollars — something that, five years ago, when the economy was better, I would have spent on odds and ends at Target without thinking twice. But it was forty dollars that we didn’t have now, at all.

So off to the welfare office I went. And they granted us $800 a month for our family of seven. I couldn’t believe it. So much money! Boy oh boy, I thought. They were right about food stamps: you can live like a king on this stuff. No wonder people just sit back and let the free checks come in! I knew we weren’t like that, though, and I decided we’d just use what we needed, and let the rest sit there, so at least we won’t be part of the problem. I’d put money in the bank as a down payment on an apartment in a better city, and I’d only use my benefits to make up the slack that I had found in our budget, and no more. We’re no freeloaders.

And we followed this plan for many months. I salted away savings, and I strolled past the meat freezer in the supermarket, lusting after the trays of meat, scorning the shameless slobs who stopped and filled up their carts on the taxpayer’s dime. Freeloaders. Scum. Oh lord, look at that steak. Stop looking. Now go get some spaghetti.

You know what? I was still ashamed of myself for being on food stamps, even though at this point I was working, too, tutoring and then delivering Meals on Wheels while still homeschooling, while my husband worked what amounted to swing shifts at his job. I was obsessively drawn to arguments about food stamps online, and, feeling extraordinarily defensive, belligerently or pathetically pled my case to strangers over and over again. It wasn’t our fault. We didn’t mean it to be this way. We’re really trying. We’re not worthless, truly not!

And they hated us anyway. Oh, man. They told us everything I had been saying to myself: freeloaders. Not willing to work. What’s wrong with America today. Culture of dependency. And all the while, we went around the house with winter jackets and three pairs of socks on, because we couldn’t afford to turn the heat above 60 degrees when it was below zero out. My kids never got a new toy, never got new clothes. They learned never to ask for a popsicle or a box of crayons. We cobbled together a bizarre school curriculum out of whatever books were 25 cents at the thrift store. My husband’s glasses were taped together at the nose, we had no auto or health insurance, and I chose my driving routes according to how many hills I could coast down, to save gas. We prioritized bills according to how threatening they were.

And we were thoroughly, thoroughly stuck in a neighborhood where everyone was on parole for beating, cheating, or molesting someone else on the street. They set the actual street on fire once. I remember staring at the green catfish we kept in a tank, a leftover from our old life when we could consider buying luxuries like pets. He would swim around and around, and I would have these cartoonish, drooling fantasies about how delicious he would be, fried up in a pan with a little lemon juice. I’ve told stories about these things as if they were funny, but they were not funny.  My kids were not safe in their own yard. I would let them play in the rain puddles only after checking for used condoms.

I couldn’t stay away from comment boxes about food stamps. And every single one told us that we were shit, because we needed help buying food.

So I went out and bought a freaking steak. And pop tarts, and ice cream, and chips, and asparagus, and mangoes, and all the things that we had trained ourselves to stop even looking at. And with the cash I saved from using food stamps, I bought a giant carton of cheap beer.

Everything else in our material lives was completely awful. There was no hint of luxury anywhere, no wiggle room, nothing simple or easy. Everything was dirty and sour, and everything was a struggle. Everything we tried to accomplish was impossible because six other impossible things had to be fixed first. The one and only expansive thing was the food budget. So I bought a freaking steak, and it was so juicy and good.

Not everyone has a story like ours. But not everyone has our advantages, either: the advantage of knowing that life isn’t supposed to be like this, that fresh fruits and veggies are important, that debt isn’t normal, that work is normal, that reading books is important, that family can be depended on, that kids need structure and order, that marriage and monogamy are normal.

Not everyone knows how to maintain a car. How to show up on time.  How to file taxes, make photocopies, save paystubs, request forms, and fill out the reams and reams of paperwork necessary to keep the welfare office from cancelling your benefits — or, as happened to us one month, to keep from despairing when the welfare office makes a mistake and gives you too many benefits, and then, when they discover the mistake, it turns out you owe *them* money, which you pay off with the money you’ve been saving in the bank until you run out of money, which means you have to go back on food stamps because you can’t buy food.

It may very well be that the ratty, vulgar, freeloaders you see with their L-shaped leatherette couches, their flat screen TVs, their tattoos and yeah, their food stamp steaks are in the same position. They may be stuck. They may have been stuck for generations, and they may not even have anyone tell them that there is supposed to be more to life than getting as many benefits as you can. They may have been shrieked and sworn at, neglected and molested since they were babies. They may have lead poisoning and FAS. The may have been numbed and dimmed by being told from day one that they’re retards, so go watch cartoons and drink your orange soda, retard, and leave mommy’s boyfriend the fuck alone. They may never have seen anyone cook in an oven. They may spend their lives on waiting lists for another dank, foul, dim, narrow subsidized apartment with a yard of dirt and broken bottles. And all of this may be the only thing they can imagine, because everyone else they have ever known lives exactly the same way.

They may have tried to get ahead by getting a second or third, minimum wage job working overnight at a gas station, or sweeping floors at the tampon factory, and discovered that their food stamps are immediately cut by exactly the amount they bring home.  They may hear that they’re not going to get any more benefits until they sell their cars (because that’s a great way to find a steady job) or get rid of their phones (because teachers, employers, and the welfare office itself really appreciate not having any way to get in touch).

They may hear that they should somehow miraculously vault over a lifetime of the degradations of generational poverty and just … be better. Be self-sufficient. Be a completely different kind of person out of sheer will power. That if they don’t do this, they are pathetic, and have no one but themselves to blame. Look how they live! Such luxury, on the taxpayer’s dime!

And they may get their monthly benefits and think, “Screw it, I’m gonna get something I want for a change.” They may buy themselves a freaking steak. And they may not care if you think they deserve it or not.

Source

Prejudice Vs. Racist... Part #54651

White Person: ANYbody can be racist. No Exception!

Me: PoCs can only be prejudice to you.

White Person: That’s like saying “I can’t be an asshole, cause I’m an asshole.”

Me: Let me draw this chart here…

See this right here? When I say “PoCs can’t be racist,” it’s because the can only benefit from the circles, while White people benefit from the squares, which are the bigger problems.

White Person: So, basically, you’re calling me a bigger asshole?

Me: No. I’m saying that you benefit from systemic, which means that in addition to being an asshole, you got a system to make sure your opinions = a power you can wield.

White Person:  Then we should stop being assholes to each other.

Me: But simply being nice while the rules are in place doesn’t help. Besides, you’re assuming that everyone wants to play fair. The reason why we say we can only be prejudice is because you have a system to help you support the racism.

White Person: But if we all stop being assholes…

Me: Is anything I’m saying registering? 

White Person: You just want an excuse to be an asshole.

Me: I’m not saying people can’t be jerks. And there maybe times that people may use their race as a distraction. I’m just saying you’re using the wrong…

White Person: #StopBeingAssholesToEndRacism

Me: … word. *plam face* shoot me… shoot me now.

Why your claims of "reverse racism" are a logical fallacy.

Racism is a social construct, not the way an individual treats you. That is prejudice. If you’re hated, disdained, insulted, bullied, etc., for your race, that is prejudice. Why isn’t it racism? Because there are no societal implications. That bullying doesn’t give you less access to education, health care, representation in media, doesn’t make you a “profile” that is threatening inherently to the world, doesn’t get you aggressively targeted by police, doesn’t get you harsher punishments through the justice system, and on and on and on. Racism isn’t about an individual’s ill intentions or beliefs about another race. Racism is a social construct, a systemic form of oppression that unless you are the target of, you are complicit in and guilty of perpetuating and condoning. It wouldn’t be farfetched to say every single white person in America is racist. Does that mean they are all prejudice? No. Does that mean they all consciously make efforts to disenfranchise people of color or harm us? No. Does that mean they harbor ill will or hate? Absolutely not. However, do they benefit from the privileges of said social construct? Yes. Willingly or not. They do. Period, point blank. And don’t confuse privilege with earned material goods or status. What you worked for, you worked for. Privilege describes unearned means. Privilege would be the slap on the wrist for something that would land a black person in prison for life. Privilege would be walking into a job interview, seeing that all the other candidates were black and the interviewer was white, and having a sudden feeling of relief and confidence. Privilege is what allows someone to not have to know the difference between racism and prejudice. It’s what allows them to dismiss a person of color’s experiences, or try and impose their own as relative, without any true comparison. Privilege is the luxury of being wilfully ignorant with impunity because you are not harmed by the status quo in any way - in fact, it is designed for you, it caters to you, it provides for you, and it shelters you.

youtube

SUSPENDED FOR BEING GAY! 

I’m seeing so many arguments on my dash right now so I’m gonna tell you all a thing. White people CANNOT experience racism. Racism, by the sociological definition, is the systematic and structural oppression of a minority race. This is something a white person will never experience. A minority group, to clarify, does not have to be a numerical minority. For example, when the British invaded India, Indians were by far the numerical majority, but still the minority because they were the oppressed or threatened group. White people can, however, experience prejudice. Prejudice is simply a judgement based on one’s preconceived notions of a group of people. Anyone can experience prejudice and everyone has some sort of prejudice. Once again, racism is the systematic and structural oppression of a minority race. People of color can have prejudice, but really cannot be racist.

“You’re Puerto Rican? But you don’t act like it!”

“I’m practically Puerto Rican because I always eat rice! Don’t you?”

“You don’t know any Spanish? What kind of Puerto Rican are you?”

“You act too white to be Puerto Rican.”

“Mind if I call you mami? It’s okay because you’re Hispanic.”

“Stop stealing our jobs, ew. No I’m just kidding, haha it’s supposed to be funny.”

Why don’t you shut the fuck up.

youtube

Ladies and gentlemen, poison doesn’t always come in bottles. And it isn’t always marked with the skull and crossbones of danger. Poison can take the form of words and phrases and acts: the venom of racial and religious hatred. Here in the United States, perhaps more than ever before, we must learn to recognize the poison of prejudice and to discover the antidote to its dangerous effects. Evidences of racial and religious hatred in our country place a potent weapon in the hands of our enemies, providing them with the ammunition of criticism. Moreover, group hatred menaces the entire fabric of democratic life. As for the antidote: you can fight prejudice, first by recognizing it for what it is, and second by actively accepting or rejecting people on their individual worth, and by speaking up against prejudice and for understanding. Remember, freedom and prejudice can’t exist side by side. If you choose freedom, fight prejudice.

Vincent Price, The Saint, “Author of Murder”

9

So, I had been seeing a flyer all over social media for a show that recently passed for an LA based artist named Amber Tilden. Some of the posts I’ve seen have been tagged with things like “#chicana”, “#cholafied”, “#womenshistorymonth”, “#familia”, “#homegirls”, etc.

You may have already seen me reblog one of these flyers adding my feelings on the event, but the more I saw about it, the more I’ve been feeling inclined to speak my mind further and explain the context behind my commentary.

The first time I heard of Amber Tilden was months back in 2014, here, during which she was confronted by members of the Xican@ community and others on why a large amount of her artwork is extremely problematic. This conversation covered cultural appropriation and why making an identity in Mexican/Chican@ culture into a costume is damaging. Tilden responded to the criticism/explanation by brushing these members of our community off as “#haters” and “racists”. Also, to my knowledge, she didn’t ask her fans/friends to stop with their horrible comments attempting to tear down this Xicana with derogatory statements on her appearance. (I don’t care if I didn’t like someone, I would never allow that on a page of mine).

So, flash forward to Woman’s History Month 2k15, and Amber Tilden is being focused on and supported by many in and outside of our community, in and outside of Los Angeles. She’s being praised for being this supposed amazing educator, woman supporting the empowerment of other women, and for the artwork she creates “based on her cultural upbringing”…

To many of you there are obvious, blinding red flags…

During her online altercations previously referenced, she explicitly stated her racial background, which made it very clear that that large amount of her artwork is, in fact, cultural appropriation.

This is something that should never be tolerated in our community, regardless of whether or not all of a person’s friends are “Hispanic”. (**Literal gag at use of word “Hispanic”**) As an example, it would certainly not be ok for me to make money off of my very own re-creations of Indian art and wear bindis, just because I grew up in a neighborhood with mostly Indians. Imagine if I took commissions where white people sent me couple pictures, asking me to draw Indian clothing of a particular sub-culture unique to them on said white people? & I said yes??

The fact that people are willing to brush it off as a joke is too, problematic.

When certain people within our communities aren’t taken seriously as valid, valuable members, that can create so much friction and a platform for misunderstandings, disrespect, and even violence between each other, or between us and others. We don’t want to view these people as costumes for amusement or as “disgraceful” or “embarrassing” – because they’re not. We have to be so careful with the way we express ourselves in a comedic sense because a lot of the time stereotypes can be perpetuated and things that shouldn’t be accessible to (in this case) white people, may appear to be accessible.

Yes, a lot of us love Lucy, but she would still get her ass beat if she had been walking around with a blue rag on her shoulder in Southern California. (& let’s not even address how much I hate Kate Moss or Lana Del Rey.)

So, the last example of Tilden’s art I posted I have less patience for… It actually infuriates every fiber of my fucking being.

Apparently Angel Aviles McClinton actually adores her being turned into a guera – and although I’ll always love Mi Vida Loca – I do not, to say the least.

I can’t believe anyone would actually lighten the skin, eyes, and hair of any brown person…

In the midst of OUR current and ongoing struggles with racism, indigenous hatred within our communities, poverty, gentrification, police brutality, abuse towards immigrants, etc. you would actually fix your pen to do this to one of us? There are just no excuses. You wanted to “decholafy” someone… so you not only make them preppy or whatever, you erase their experience as a woman of color? This is literally violent behavior and I’m so disgusted and disappointed in everyone in OUR community supporting it.

Yes, we all make mistakes. Yes, we’ve all said and done extremely problematic things. Yes, we’ve all been embarrassed and had to learn and grow. It’s when things are being explained to you and you’re being confronted and you still choose to continue your problematic, highly offensive behavior. You’re not taking the time to reflect. You’re not taking the opportunity to apologize and stop. & you’re not a teenager who has the excuse of being young and ignorant.

If you care about our community, stop.