adam-kennedy

“So what are you?”

The question which plagued my childhood in suburban Kansas; the ponderance of which led me towards years of agonizing identity searching; the answer to which I still hesitate to deliver.

“So what are you?”

It is an innocent question; one I know I am not alone in hearing the echoes of. But what do I say? “I’m mixed” is the short answer, but it always leads to the question of “With what” so do I say “My mom is white and my dad is brown” but brown isn’t usually specific enough so do I say “my mom is white and my dad’s Pakistani” but that doesn’t flow right because white is a race and Pakistani is a nationality so do I say “my mom’s American and my dad’s Pakistani” but that isn’t true because my dad was born in Canada and he’s lived here his whole life and American sure as hell doesn’t mean white I mean my dad IS American so do I say “My mom’s a white American and my Dad’s Pakistani American” but that just sounds like I’m trying too hard so that’s out of the question and so do I just drop it and leave it at “none of your business” but that’s rude and it’s really such a simple question so what in the hell do I freaking say?

“So what are you?”

It’s a good question, really… why don’t you tell me? I am the alienation that I feel when my mom’s family talks about how dangerous those Muslim immigrants are over dinner and I am the strange sinking feeling in my stomach which occurs when my cousins tell me that whatever I’ve just done is haraam. I am the frustration which clouds me when people around me doubt that I am what the hell I say I am. I am the product of the millisecond long stares of confusion people give me when I tell them the pale as china blonde lady I’m with is my mother and the looks of disgust I get when I, the young, doll eyed light skinned girl, go out to dinner late at night with a big burly middle aged brown man, aka my father. I am the three and a half years it took me to decide what to call the pigmentation of my skin.

I am the sadness which clouds me when one of my Aunties asserts how lucky I am to be so fair skinned. I am the anger I feel each and every time I think about the people who called my full and plump Desi lips fat as a kid and now use copious amounts of lip liner to accentuate their tiny mouths on Snapchat. I am the hours of hoping and praying during and after shootings that it wasn’t a Muslim. I am the incredible lengths I go to, the precise and complex knowledge I feel I must have of my roots in order to truly claim my heritage. I am neither and I am both and I hate it.

“So what are you?”

I can’t stand here and tell you that it is all bad. That would be I lie, for I am also the cool, smooth feeling of the bronze crucifix which sits on one side of my bedroom wall and the sentiment of the words “Allah most merciful” written in beautiful Arabic script on the other. I am my large French hazel eyes and my thick and wavy South Asian hair, my favorite of my features.

I am the pride I feel as I trace my thumb over the intricate embroidery on one of my anarkalis and the anticipation I feel for Christmas as I help line my grandmother’s fireplace with garland. I am the rhythmic clanking of my bangles as I dance to bhangra music at a cousin’s wedding and the clicking of tongues by a sizzling grill as my grandpa flips our burgers during a Sunday night barbeque. I am the flavorful and savory taste of pulao my father makes and the creamy texture of mashed potatoes on Thanksgiving. I am the Maybelline mascara I coat my eyelashes with and the kajal I used to line the edges of my eyes. I am the flavorant meeting of two cultures melting in an incredible country in which such a thing is even possible.

“So what are you?”

God, but what am I thinking? I’m Jackie. I am the impending messiness that is my bedroom. I am my inability to fall the hell asleep before eleven o’clock at night. I am my love for all things fashion and glamour. I am my obnoxiously large collection of makeup. I am my hideous shedding of tears each and every time Spock dies in the Wrath of Khan.

I am my intense love for horror movies and my struggle to move in the dark for two days after watching them. I am my passion for music and Michael J. Fox and Kanye West and my unrequited love for Zayn Malik. I am my collection of records and of 32 scarves which I never wear, my brown riding boots, my belting of Christmas carols in the middle of July, my irrational hatred of algebra, my inability to sleep without my phone being on its charger, the Toll House cookie dough I eat straight from the bag and the four Beatles posters I have hanging in my room.

I am the scent of Aussie conditioner and my clumsy, spacy nature; my obsession with the Kennedys, my adamant love for Diet Dr Pepper, losing myself in my daydreams, my extreme extroversion and procrastination of literally everything, my weakness for Reese’s peanut butter cups, my A to Z knowledge about Mick Jagger, my ever changing mind. I am my dreams and I am my fears and and I am my tenacity and I am my mistakes and my courage and my insecurities and my abilities and my hope … I am so much and yet I am so little. I am me. I am unapologetically and beautifully me.

“So what are you?”

I am Jacqueline Renee and I am what I am and no answer that I give you to this question will make what I am any different.

The tragic backstory of Adam and Kylo:

(December 2015)

Kathleen: alright, the movie is out, you’re gonna be very busy from now on, but what is really important is that you know what to say in interviews so as to keep the fans satisfied but at the same not reveal too much. 

Adam: I got it. But I’m a method actor, so I gotta be sincere because my character’s feelings are my own, somehow.

Kathleen: so what do you say if they ask you about Kylo Ren?

Adam: that he’s just a really good guy who’s very conflicted and that the light is still in him so we can expect him to turn against the dark side towards the end of the trilogy. Oh, and that he likes Rey.

Kathleen:

Kathleen: you can’t do that.

Adam: no?

Kathleen: no.

Adam: oh… well, then what should I do?

Kathleen: don’t worry, we’ll find a solution.

Kathleen: [cancels all of Adam’s guesting at comicons, forbiddens him and everyone else in the cast from having interviews about his role, writes a big banner that says “in this company we don’t talk about Kylo Ren” and hangs it in the Lucasfilm cafeteria for everyone to see]

Kathleen: this should work, now we just gotta pick directors that are able to keep quiet about Kylo Ren for the next two movies. I’ll be very careful in picking the right people.

(July 2017)

Rian Johnson: KYLO REN MY SWEETHEART ADORABLE LITTLE CHILD WHO DID NO WRONG AND DESERVES EVERYTHING GOOD IN THE WORLD

Kathleen: …shit.

list of people i want to fight:

1. kathleen kennedy
2. george lucas
3. adam driver
4. kathleen kennedy
5. the idiot who decided to not include lead star, hero and main character John Boyega in the poster
6. the dumbass who decided to only include 3 secs of lead star, hero and main character John Boyega in the trailer
7. kathleen kennedy

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Senator Robert Kennedy speaking at the Indiana University Medical Center - April 26, 1968

He was never afraid of the truth. Bobby never fled from the facts. He also knew, in ways that politicians these days seem to have no understanding, that truth is the token of trust. It was his view of a political leader’s function to tell them the truth, even though it made them uncomfortable, even though it may have made them dislike him, and even though it may have cost him in that audience. Robert Kennedy saw his success as secondary to the benefit and success of the country and the people in it. - Adam Walinsky

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The legacy has to be an enormous burden. Who would want to be in a position of having to live your life with the feeling that if you didn’t become President of the United States, and fulfil all of these enormous hopes that had been raised by your brothers, who never had a chance to fulfil them, that people would judge your life? Or you might judge yourself to be a failure? I can’t conceive of a greater or more difficult burden to carry. - Adam Walinsky

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ADVENTURE TIME COMICS #18

Publisher: KaBOOM!, an imprint of BOOM! Studios
Retail Price: $3.99
Writers: Adam Gorham & Fred Kennedy, James Asmus, Derek Laufman, Daniela Vicoso
Artists: Adam Gorham, Derek Laufman, Daniela Vicoso
Main Cover: Derek Laufman
Subscription Cover: Luca Pizarri
Variant Cover: Natalie Dombois
Finn and Jake have way too much stuff! Turns out that years of looting dungeons and adventuring adds up. Time for the biggest yard sale in all of Ooo!

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Oscar and Adam singing Please Mr. Kennedy from Inside Llewyn Davis live