Do not help someone waste your time. Speak up.
Important.
open communication is good.
And if they cant answer you then and there, theyve wasted ENOUGH of your time, leave while you can
Most black girls experience this hatred at schools. And classmates are not the only problem, there is no support from teachers, too. That’s why they get so affected by their school experiences. Black kids deserve to be treated just like everybody else, they want to study, they want to learn something ,too. However due to prejudice they are 5 times more likely to be suspended than their white peers and it can ruin their lives forever. National Women’s Law Center created this video to change the situation. Join the movement to help black girls feel normal and get the same opportunities everybody else has.
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How to get out stains using other things
:)
Someone unfollowed me and sent me hate because I reblogged this post. My job here is done
Boys of 2015.
I love this show
These aren’t my tweets, but I saw this and thought it could be helpful. ✨Girl Power✨
i saw this on imgur and well, even if something like this is going around on tumblr already it is important.
Azealia Banks has called for the descendents of slave traders to pay $100 trillion in reparations to African-Americans. Taking to Twitter on Friday (December 26), the rapper made a series of posts relating to reparations after sharing an article about the DeWolf family, who were prominent Rhode Island-based slave traders. “I wonder where the descendants of the ‘DeWolf’ family are today. They should all have their houses burned and their finances seized,” Azealia tweeted. “This generation of young black kids needs to make a CONCERTED effort to seek out living descendants of major slave trading families. They Owe us Money.” Banks then tweeted directly to James DeWolf Perry, a DeWolf descendent who was involved in a documentary about coming to terms with his family history. Questioned about profits from the project, Perry replied, “Thanks for asking. No, I’m not making any money from documenting the DeWolf family’s slave trading past.” Banks went on to request proof of this claim, as well as asking Perry, “What did you [sic] family do with all the money you made from slavery???? I need to know. Now.” “Someone should kick your ass, and punch you right in your stupid smiling cracker face,” posted an agitated Banks. The 23-year-old also shared a number of links to articles on how Native-Americans and Holocaust survivors have received some form of reparations from the United States and Germany, as well as a claim by Harper’s magazine stating that should the US compensate African-Americans for slavery, the figure would be in the region of $100 trillion, based on the hours of forced labour worked with a compound interested of 6 percent.
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Signal Boost this.
Mychal Denzel Smith, Abolish the Police. Instead, Let’s Have Full Social, Economic, and Political Equality. (via abolitionjournal)
reblog and make a wish! this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)
OH MY FUCKING GOD, IT’S BACK ON MY DASH.
THIS SHIT WORKS OKAY, I AM DEAD SERIOUS.
The last time I saw this on my dash, I didn’t think it would happen, so jokingly I wished I could go to a fun. concert.
AND GUESS WHAT, I WENT TO A FUCKING FUN. CONCERT.
THIS SHIT WORKS, TRY IT.
yay its back.
so… I half jokingly reblogged this yesterday cos I thought it was a nice picture… and was like oh wow I only get wishes on birthdays what would I wish for?!?!?! how about gainful employment L0L … and like… I have a job now? That I never applied for? That someone just called me up and said “here, have this”? In a place I really really like? So like… h8ers gonna h8 or something
this fucking works ok
REBLOGGING!!!!!!
forever reblog
My childhood
Too cute 💕
when i was 5 years old my best friend was a boy named kyle who didn’t know how to knock on doors so he made dinosaur noises outside my window to wake me up in the summer until i demonstrated how to ball his fists and slam them against my doors. we collected caterpillars in my trailer park and built them houses while we traded pokemon cards. he wasn’t the only one. there was ben, and mitch, and noah—but kyle’s the only one who hurt me, because when he tried to kiss me and i asked him why, he told me “because you’re a girl and i’m a boy, shouldn’t we like each other?”
i missed him so much and i wondered why he couldn’t just be my friend like he always was
in the first grade there was rich and joseph and i got sent to detention with them almost every day with a smile on my face. we built block towers and sang to my teacher’s lion king soundtracks when she’d turn the lights off during lunch time. one day they got in a fist fight over me at recess, and i wondered why they felt they needed to share my friendship, like it was something they owned.
in the second grade zach and i played yu gi oh under our desks during free time and i got moved for talking to him constantly. everyone in the class would tease him and i for talking, asking when we were going to date already, asking him if he’d kissed me, and he stopped being my friend.
when i was 11 i met a chubby boy with the name of a colour who wore puffy vests and unwashed t-shirts, with greasy hair and bright blue eyes and a smile that hid hurt behind it. people didn’t like him because he was silly, but i liked him, because i was also silly. he became my friend the day he bought me 5 giant roses and asked me to be his girlfriend, and i politely declined but promised him i’d be his best friend because i’d always wanted a best guy friend that stuck around. we burnt our feet on the concrete during the summer and walked home with the sunset silhouetting us. he talked often about how he loved me, but never blamed me for being me, even though he refused to move on. that boy dyed his hair jet black and sat on the end of my bed playing songs to me on guitar, and all that pent up rage from before didn’t show until the first time he slapped me across the face and called me a dumb cunt.
in the 7th grade there was a boy named ryan who sat next to me on the bus and talked to me about manga. he’d ask me personal invasive questions but i didn’t mind because it was attention and i liked attention. i was dating another guitarist with curly brown hair, one who was much more kind-tempered than the other, and ryan mentioned how much of an asshole he was every day. i wondered, why, why does he think the love of my life is an asshole? but whenever i asked him, he just told me, “girls only date assholes. there’s no room for nice guys like me.”
i wondered, if he was so nice, why did he say such mean things?
he never stopped with me, taking me to movies, hanging out with me, you know. being friendly. i thought we were friends. but then, how many times had i thought that before?
how many times had i bonded with a boy, thought they got me, only for them to ask me if i wanted to make out?
how come when i told ryan i was coming out as a lesbian, he stopped being my friend, and said “damnit, the one girl i really want to pound into a mattress, and she’s only interested in chicks!”
there was a boy my junior year who stayed up all night with me until the sun rose, talking about life, past loves, hopes, dreams. beneath a million twinkling stars spanning forever, he brushed long brown hair out of his eyes and listened to me talk about the history that made me. then he asked me if i’d ever consider dating a guy, and complained about how he’d never get laid.
when i told him no a couple hundred times, he found new girls to listen to.
i would sit on the couch and play zelda with dakota, and he’d talk about all my favourite games with me. he was the closest thing to support i had, and the letters and poems he wrote me were always so kind and friendly. but he’d put his arms around me on the couch, and no matter how many times i told him i was uncomfortable, he’d still come over every day and do it.
"don’t you know how it feels to love someone and not have them love you back? don’t you know what it feels like to be friendzoned?"
when i meet guys who talk about the friendzone, who talk about the girls who don’t give “nice guys” like them i chance, i always want to just say
when i was 10 years old i met a girl whose brown hair fell across her shoulders and whos eyes sparkled when the sunlight hit them, whose voice was like velvet and whose scent was like mountain smoke, who made me dizzier than a fly climbing a sugar hill. and i’m 18 years old, and i still love her, and she knows, and she doesn’t love me.
but my first thoughts upon hearing her rejection were not “what a bitch,” were not “she just wants a douchebag and not a nice girl like me!” were not “im going to keep pushing her until she dates me,”
they were
"she is the best friend i have ever had, and i am the best she’s ever had, and i would hate to take that away from her."
so before you play the victim, mr. Nice Guy, before you angrily throw your fedora on the ground and blame the girl you claim to adore so much:
put yourself in the shoes of a girl who thought she made a wonderful friend, only to find out that he just wanted her for sex. that he just wanted her for a relationship. a girl who was just an object to win, a prize. a girl who’s trust you’ve just shattered.
maybe she friendzoned you. but you girlfriendzoned her, first.
FUCKING THIS
