“biz siyahların kendi tarihimizi yazması ve belgelemesi gerekir çünkü tüm devrimler eski kitapları okuyarak olacaktır.”

Angela Davis 

Görsel : Felix Beltrán
A poster asking for the release of Angela Davis, an American political activist, who was arrested in 1970. ( Cuban Propaganda Posters From The ‘60s And ‘70s)

I love Hamilton, but something about the way white fans engage with the musical really bothers me: a lot of them are posting in the tag about the actual, historical revolutionaries and founding fathers in a way that makes them seem like funny, sweet, good people. They weren’t. I don’t just mean “Jefferson was a piece of shit”: none of them were good. Every one of their asses saw black people as inferior, even if not all of them supported slavery. All of them participated in genocidal policy against indigenous peoples. If you’re watching/listening to Hamilton and then going out and romanticizing the real founding fathers/American revolutionaries, you’re missing the entire point.

Hamilton is not really about the founding fathers. It’s not really about the American Revolution. The revolution, and Hamilton’s life are the narrative subject, but its purpose is not to romanticize real American history: rather, it is to reclaim the narrative of America for people of colour. 

Don’t romanticize the founding fathers and the revolution. They’re already romanticized. It’s been done. Your history books have already propagated those lies. The revolution is romanticized as an American narrative because it was a revolution lead by and for white men. Their story is the narrative of the nation and it is a narrative from which people of colour are utterly obliterated. 

Do you understand what it’s like to live in a nation where you are made marginal and inconsequential in the historical narrative that you are taught from your first day of school? In the Americas, to be a person of colour is to be made utterly inconsequential to the nation’s history. If you are black, your history begins with slavery, and your agency is denied; they don’t teach about slave rebellions or black revolutionaries. You learn about yourself as entirely shaped by outside forces: white people owned you, then some white people decided to free you and wasn’t that nice of them? and then you’re gone until the civil rights movement. That is the narrative they teach; in which you had no consequence, no value, no impact until less than a century ago. If you are indigenous, you are represented as disappeared, dead, already gone: you do not get to exist, you are already swallowed by history. If you are any other race, you are likely not present at all. To live in a land whose history is not your own, to live in a story in which you are not a character, is a soul-destroying experience.

In Hamilton, Eliza talks, in turn, of “taking herself out of the narrative” and “putting herself back in the narrative.” That’s what Hamilton is about: it’s about putting ourselves in the narrative. It puts people of colour in the centre of the damn narrative of the nation that subjugates them; it takes a story that by all accounts has been constructed to valourize the deeds of white men, and redefines it all. 

Why was the American Revolution a revolution? Why were slave revolts revolts? Why do we consider the founding fathers revolutionaries and not the Black Panthers or the Brown Berets or any number of other anti-racist revolutionary organizations? Whose rebellion is valued? Who is allowed to be heroic through defiance? By making the founding fathers people of colour, Hamilton puts people of colour into the American narrative, while simultaneously applying that narrative to the present. Right now, across the United States, across the damn world, people are chanting “black lives matter.” Black people are shutting down malls and highways, demanding justice for the lives stolen by police, by white supremacy. And all across the world, indigenous people are saying “Idle No More,” blockading pipelines, demanding their sovereignty. And “No One is Illegal” is chanting loud enough to shake down the walls at the border; people are demanding the end of refugee detention centres, demanding an end to the violence perpetuated by anti-immigration policies. People of colour are rising up. 

…And white people are angry about it. White people are saying “if blacks don’t want to get shot by the police they shouldn’t sag their pants”; saying “get over it” about anti-indigenous policies of assimilation and cultural genocide and land theft; Jennicet Gutiérrez was heckled by white gay men for demanding that president Obama end the detention of undocumented trans women of colour. White people see people of colour rising up and they tell us to sit down. Shut up. Stop making things difficult. The American Revolution was a bunch of white men who didn’t want to be taxed, so white history sees their revolutionary efforts as just; they killed for their emancipation from England; they were militant. That, to white people is acceptable. But those same white people talk shit about Malcolm X for being too violent–a man who never started an uprising against the government leading to bloodshed. Violence is only acceptable in the hands of white people; revolution is only okay when the people leading the charge are white. 

Hamilton makes those people brown and black; Hamilton depicts the revolution of which America is proud as one led by people of colour against a white ruling body; there’s a reason King George is the only character who is depicted by a white man. The function of the visual in Hamilton is to challenge a present in which people of colour standing up against oppression are seen as violent and dangerous by the same people who proudly declare allegiance to the flag. It forces white people to see themselves not as the American Revolutionaries, but as the British oppressors. History is happening, and they’re on its bad side.

So don’t listen to or watch Hamilton and then come out of that to romanticize the founding fathers. Don’t let that be what you take away from this show. They’re the vehicle for the narrative, and a tool for conveying the ideologies of the show, but they are not the point. Don’t romanticize the past; fight for the future. 

Reasons for Everyone to Watch “Dear White People”

1. Learn how even Black people who “do everything right” and get into a top college still struggle to find their place and be truly accepted into it

2. Learn and recognize that homophobia is a problem in every community even ours

3. Learn a little bit about colorism (Coco vs Sam)

4. Learn how (yes I’ll say it) Black people can be racist and stereotype others

5. How some White people can be better allies to Black people than other Black people

6. Classism within the Black community (”good” black vs “bad” black)

7. Learn how revolutions require different avenues of protest

8. Learn why if someone calls you racist (classist, homophobic, etc.) to reflect on your own attitudes and biases

9. Learn that although we can all be “racist,” some beliefs are way more dangerous than others and should be treated as such (cracker vs nigger)

10. Just to stay woke

ARTNOIR + Black Lives Matter: Black Futures Month || ANSWER TIME on February 14th, 10am (PST) || 1pm (EST)

Submit Your Questions Here

ARTNOIR is excited to be collaborating with Black Lives Matter on their Black Futures Month project during Black History Month. This project is designed to inspire people during this challenging social & political climate through art and the written word to dream about tomorrow today. 

Each day in February, Black Lives Matter will release an original piece of art and an accompanying written piece to reclaim Black History Month and demonstrate the importance of using art as both an inspiration and an organizing tool. Artists from around the world have been commissioned to use their genius to promulgate the conversation about systemic racism and violence against Black people.

Today we are thrilled to co-host an interactive Q&A with visual artist Delano Dunn, digital all-rounder Babusi Nyoni and organizer/writer Miski Noor for a candid and spirited conversation via Tumblr’s Answer Time series. 

Our conversation explores how visual art and writing can serve as a platform to discuss pressing issues that impact Black communities throughout the diaspora from education to immigration.

Send us your questions and join the conversation live on  February 14th, 10am (PST) || 1pm (EST) on our Tumblr site.

so I just binge watched the entirety of Dear White People on Netflix

and wow. I’m gonna need more people to make gifsets of literally every single line of dialogue, so I can reblog them stat.

but watching this has motivated me to make something clear.

as an first generation Ethiopian American, I’m not truly part of the Black experience. my family is not descended from slaves; I didn’t grow up with the knowledge of oppression and segregation; my parents more or less voluntarily left Ethiopia in 1980 because of the Communist revolution. so Black people don’t treat me like I’m Black, which is fine, I’m not - and yet everyone else does, because my skin is just dark enough to lump me in. part of my growing up has been me coming to terms with the fact that even though I don’t see myself as Black with a capital B, I can’t quite separate myself from that identity either, because the world won’t let me.

I understand Sam’s character. I understand wanting to stand up for what’s right but not truly knowing how my identity fits in with the identity of those around me. not really fitting in one group or the other. I understand walking into a classroom and knowing I’m the only dark-skinned girl there - hell, I went to a private school where I was one of only TWO dark-skinned girls in all 12 grades, period. I understand Coco’s character. I understand growing up around white girls who say (implicitly or explicitly) that my natural hair looks matted and dirty, my skin looks muddy and ashy, and “it’s a cute top, but that color just doesn’t work on you, it clashes with your…well, you know,” and after hearing it all your life, wanting desperately to fit in. so for years I straighten my hair, I smile, and I separate myself from my skin color. I understand Lionel’s character. I understand hiding behind the written word because I don’t think I’m brave enough to speak out loud. …. I could go on, but you get the idea.

so what I’m trying to say is … Dear white people: not all black people are Black, but racism doesn’t care about technicalities.

Dear white people: watch this show, and understand that this is a show about race, but also about identity - do you know who you are and what you believe in? then do something about it. while you’re at it, let us be who we are and stand up for what we believe in. if you’re going to help, that’s great. if not, fuck off.

“Malcolm X pointed out in the 1960s that no civil rights statutes will give Black people their freedom, and asked if Africans in America were really citizens why would civil rights be necessary. Malcolm X observed civil rights had been fought for at great sacrifice, and therefore should be enforced, but if the government won’t enforce the laws, then the people will have to do so, and the movement will have to pressure the government authorities to protect democratic rights. To unite the masses of people behind a working class anti-racist movement, the following practical demands, which are a combination of revolutionary and radical reformism, to ensure democratic rights, are necessary:
1. Black and white workers’ solidarity. Fight racism on the job and in society.

2. Full democratic and human rights for all non-white peoples. Make unions fight racism and discrimination.

3. Armed self-defence against racist attacks. Build mass movement against racism and fascism.

4. Community control of the police, replacement of cops by community self-defence force elected by residents. End police brutality. Prosecution of all killer cops.

5. Money for rebuilding the cities. Creation of public works brigades to rebuild inner city areas, made up of community residents.

6. Full socially useful employment at union wages for all workers. End racial discrimination in jobs, training and promotions. Establish affirmative action programs to reverse past racist employment practices.

7. Ban the Ku Klux Klan, Nazis and other fascist organisations. Prosecution of all racists for attacks on people of colour.

8. Free open admissions to all institutions of learning for all those qualified to attend. No racial exclusion in higher education.

9. End taxes of workers and poor. Tax the rich and major corporations.

10. Full health and medical care for all persons and communities, regardless of race and class.

11. Free all political prisoners and innocent victims of racial injustice. Abolish prisons. Fight economic disparity.

12. Rank and file democratic control of the unions by building an Anarcho-Syndicalist labour movement. Make unions active in social issues.

13. Stop racist harassment and discrimination of undocumented workers.”
- Lorenzo Kom’boa Ervin, Anarchism and the Black Revolution

onethousandcentipedes  asked:

Do you agree with the theories of Touka becoming pregnant and if so, how do you think that would advance the plot? I haven't made a decision about the possibility since I'm having trouble imagining any concrete purpose for it besides shock factor or a device for more tragedy.

The last chapter definitely pointed in that direction. It might just be a pure character moment, but usually Ishida ties his character moments intrinsically to the plot itself, and a pregnancy is the most obvious knock-on plot effect of a sex scene. Even so, I would still be sceptical if it weren’t for Ishida’s ‘rotten womb’ poem about the Kirishimas. With that in mind, it seems very likely.

Thematically, I think the main purpose of such an event would be threefold:

Firstly, to tear Kaneki between the role thrust upon him and his own secret motivation. Previously, they were compatible, but since Kaneki fights for the sake of his loved ones, he will find his responsibility as a father outweighing his role as the One-Eyed King. This will be part of the upcoming Judgement Arc, where Kaneki will have to decide what is truly important to him and discover his true purpose for living within himself, rather than in the laps of others.

Born for both love and revolution, Kaneki will try to keep both - having learnt all too well from the first Shironeki and the Black Reaper (his Revolution) what sacrificing everything for a greater purpose will lead to, but also knowing how he can’t protect his loved ones without a purpose from his time as Kuroneki and Haise (his Love). It is Touka who will make the decision to prevent him from losing everything in his refusal to play the game of choice any longer.

Secondly, to tear Touka between her desire to fight by Kaneki’s side and her inability to do exactly that. Like in the original Anteiku arc, she will be behind the major scenes of battle, this time for the baby’s sake, a conscious choice on her part even while Kaneki is reluctant to force her to do it after their talk. But eventually the sheer level of danger Kaneki is in will get to her, and, not wanting things to end up the way they did the last time, will go to save him and successfully - but in the struggle, the baby will die in utero.

Which brings me to the third purpose: an important lesson in the difficulties of parenthood for these two whose lives have revolved around their own parents. After the failures of their own parents, it would be of paramount importance that they succeed here, and even if they knew the baby would likely die from their differing biology anyway, the fact that it specifically died due to their choices will be a cruel but necessary lesson to demonstrate just how difficult being a parent really is in this brutal world. The pain might help them find a new level of closure with their own parental issues - not necessarily forgiveness, but closure. It will be the last major tribute taken by the birdcage they seek to destroy - and it must be destroyed. That final loss will wash all doubts away from Kaneki’s mind. He will become the One-Eyed King in truth, and not just a boy wearing his crown.