asian activist

anonymous asked:

Hi cunt women are lesser animals,with usually smaller brains, less neurons, and less synapses. That's why women rely more on instinct and emotion, rather than logic or reason. That also explains women's relative lack of intellectual accomplishments or invention over the past 3,000 years (and more). Your gender's main contributions have been singing, giving birth, cooking and cleaning, Nearly everything women have accomplished is with help from men or from a group of men. Women deserve no rights

Hi dickhead I’m feeling petty this morning so I’m gonna eviscerate this swill part by part. It seems like the concept of basic science confuses you. I’ll start by citing this article for you and provide some choice quotes. It used a heavily peer-reviewed study and the methodology was completely sound (i read the whole goddamn original work and several of its external citations).

“On average, for example, men tend to have a larger amygdala, a region associated with emotion. Such differences are small and highly influenced by the environment, yet they have still been used to paint a binary picture of the human brain,“

“Depending on whether the researchers looked at gray matter, white matter, or the diffusion tensor imaging data, between 23% and 53% of brains contained a mix of regions that fell on the male-end and female-end of the spectrum. Very few of the brains—between 0% and 8%—contained all male or all female structures.” 

A list of early inventions by women (it includes elevated rail-lines, Kevlar, and the submarine telescope! the lack of patents taken out by women early on is actually because men made it illegal for a woman to hold a patent in her name until the early 1900s. those darn men, always inhibiting progress)

 A detailed list of several well-known contemporary female scholars

Here’s Wikipedia’s list of Muslim women who made significant intellectual achievements

A list of 30 Black women who made history

A detailed history of Asian women’s contributions

Notable Native American women from the past 350 years

Here’s TWO articles on the contributions of trans women in contemporary culture (the first one also includes nonbinary people, just a heads up. It seemed more relevant than many of the others tho)

You know what fuck you here’s 50 more women who did important shit

Wikipedia’s history of lesbian literature (which lists a lot of books and authors)

Tbh I do agree with you on the singing being a main contribution, just because women have nicer voices (in my opinion) and are much more likely to use their songwriting expertise to push activist and progressive agendas.

Maybe don’t come into my inbox with this shit when you don’t know what you’re talking about? Put away the 18th century medical book and take a chill pill.

You Don’t Respect Women If...

You don’t respect Muslium Women

You don’t respect Black Women

You don’t respect Latina Women

You don’t respect Asian Woman

You don’t respect Native Women

You don’t repect Gay Women

You don’t respect Bi Women

You don’r respect Trans Women

You don’t respect Ace/Aro Women

You don’t respect other LGBT+ Women

You don’t respect women without children

You don’t respect sex workers

You don’t respect women that stay home

You don’t respect women that are working

Repost if you repect women no matter race/ethnicity/sexuality/class


I found out the other day that Joss Whedon’s Batgirl film will be based on Gail Simone’s run of the comic. All I can think now is please let this mean Alysia Yeoh will be in it. And please, please, please cast an actual Asian transwoman to play her. My immediate thought on who to cast is Ivory Aquino.

She’s already had experience in an Asian transwoman activist role from playing Cecilia Chung in When We Rise. I think she’d be a good fit, but I’d be fine with whoever they got as long as they don’t whitewash or ciswash the character. We could do with more LGBT representation in superhero movies.


Today’s Google Doodle is in honor of human rights activist Yuri Kochiyama’s birthday. She would have been 95 today (she died in 2014 at the age of 93).  

“It’s with great pleasure that Google celebrates Yuri Kochiyama, an Asian American activist who dedicated her life to the fight for human rights and against racism and injustice. Born in California, Kochiyama spent her early twenties in a Japanese American internment camp in Arkansas during WWII. She and her family would later move to Harlem, where she became deeply involved in African American, Latino, and Asian American liberation and empowerment movements. Today’s doodle by Alyssa Winans features Kochiyama taking a stand at one of her many protests and rallies.

Kochiyama left a legacy of advocacy: for peace, U.S. political prisoners, nuclear disarmament, and reparations for Japanese Americans interned during the war. She was known for her tireless intensity and compassion, and remained committed to speaking out, consciousness-raising, and taking action until her death in 2014.”

More info on Kochiyama

Photo: Yuri Kochiyama speaks at an anti-war demonstration in New York City’s Central Park around 1968. Courtesy of the Kochiyama family/UCLA Asian American Studies Center. (x)

Sylvia Savellano, a Filipino American from Oakland, met her first Brigadistas at Grove Street College. Syl was impressed with the Brigadistas’ community work and viewed communism as “communities working together.” Syl was twenty years old when she went on the Third Venceremos Brigade to Cuba in 1970 and was joined by two hundred other politically radical young men and women of all races from across the United States. The six-week experience of working in the sugarcane fields, living in bunkhouses, meeting young Cubans, and visiting institutions was a turning point for her and her companions.
Before Syl went to Cuba, however, she was seeing a Honduran woman. She thought about coming out during the Brigade selection process but decided against it. Since Cuba viewed homosexuality as a “crime against the people,” upon her return Syl knew that it was impossible to be a gay person in the movement. So she buried her feelings, volunteered at the San Francisco International Hotel, and was one of the first (along very few) women activists in the Kearny Street Asian American Movement.
Syl led a double life, an assumed straight sister in the Asian American movement during the day and a pervert at night in gay dance clubs. Recalled Syl, “It was isolating. It was a quiet thing. I could not tell anybody. Any inclinations, I had to can it… I came out to my family because of the I-Hotel. But to my Movement friends I lived with… they did not know what was going on.” Then it all came to a head when one of Syl’s fellow Brigadistas called a meeting to start a chapter of the Third World Women’s Alliance (TWWA) in the Bay Area in 1971. Syl, along with her girlfriend and several other lesbians of color, piled into a car and enthusiastically went to the first meeting called for women of color:
“We thought we could express our sexual identity. Wrong… We were isolated. We felt bad.We all picked up that we were not welcome, at least to not talk about our lesbianism. So we pulled out. We got the cold shaft… In the Asian and Third World movements, we could have been treated better. It felt like our own people [were] stabbing us. [Name withheld] said, “We are not going to have any of ‘that’ here; we have too many bigger issues.” So we boycotted [the TWWA]. We did not want to go. It was only for straight women. It was not the place to go.”
[…] Fortunately, Syl was Filipino and found a place in the Filipino radical group KDP (Katipunan ng mag Demokratikong Pilipino, Union of Democratic Filipinos). Homosexuals were allowed in KDP because one of its founding national leaders, Melinda Paras, was a lesbian. Melinda, born and raised in Madison, Wisconsin, was a young teenage Asian American anti-war activist and Venceremos Brigadista when she went to the Philippines and joined the revolutionary nationalist movement.
[…] A year later, the radical members of the Philippine support network formed KDP. […] Melinda immediately informed her leadership group of her personal situation. There was no problem with [Melinda’s] lesbianism, as Cynthia’s older sister was a lesbian and Bruce was supportive. Melinda’s stellar political credentials as a revolutionary movement activist and deportee also deflected any question that homosexuality had suddenly transformed her into a “social parasite.” Melinda’s standing as one of the KDP national leaders was, however, paramount to protect. Fearful that KDP’S detractors would use Melinda’s homosexuality to discredit the organization, the couple did not disclose their relationship. But it was a well-guarded known secret in the organization, and eventually there were a dozen gay and lesbian KDP members. As a result, Filipino lesbians and gays in KDP gained political skills not available to other queer people of color, equipping them to contribute substantially in later years to a wide range of movement-organization efforts.
—  “Asian Lesbians in San Francisco: Struggles to Create a Safe Space, 1970s-1980s” by Trinity A. Ordona in Asian/Pacific Islander American Women: A Historical Anthology edited by Shirley Hune, Gail M. Nomura

“Pax asked us [to take part] after noticing that even many of the advocates/activists addressing racism in the black community who had a large following had light skin,” the Yogarajahs told the Global Post.“We discussed it, and I noticed the same thing in the South Asian community — activists and advocates with a large audience against racism, sexism, fatphobia, etc., usually were lighter skinned. So this photo shoot occurred, and then we created a hashtag.”

However, the creators want you to know that this is ultimately a tag for everyone, with the goal of helping both black and South Asian women alike… 

Read More:

The lines were stark outside the courthouse.

A bustling street in downtown Brooklyn, N.Y., separated two groups. Each was fenced in by stone-faced police officers and steel barricades: an Asian-American community divided by Tuesday’s sentencing of 28-year-old Peter Liang, the son of Chinese immigrants.

On one side, a group of mainly Chinese-American protesters held up poster boards declaring “Racist Prosecution!” and “Peter Liang Deserves Justice too!” in black marker.

On the other, a racially-mixed group of activists that included Asian-Americans lifted “Black Lives Matter” signs, both in English and Chinese.

‘Awoken’ By N.Y. Cop Shooting, Asian-American Activists Chart Way Forward

Photo caption: Supporters of Akai Gurley’s family gather outside the courthouse where former New York City police officer Peter Liang was sentenced for Gurley’s shooting death in Brooklyn, N.Y.

Photo credit: Hansi Lo Wang/NPR

When Being Indo-Caribbean is Just a Number

I live in New York City. One of the most diverse cities in the world, you don’t need me to tell you. Most of the activist work I do is in NYC and centers around South Asian communities. Here’s something interesting: 

Guyanese folk are the 5th largest immigrant group in NYC. (largely Indo-Guyanese)

Indians and Bengalis are 9th and 10th respectively. 

There are smaller groups of Indo-Caribbeans who migrate here from other countries, mainly Trinidad and Jamaica. 

Despite this, I can say with complete honesty and even regret, that not a single South Asian space I have ever been in has been run by Indo-Caribbeans. 

Not a single South Asian space I have ever been in has had more than 3 Indo-Caribbean participants at a time, myself included. 

In comparison with the few Indo-Caribbean specific spaces there are, to the many general South Asian spaces there are, the numbers are low and disheartening. 

There is an abundance of Indian, Bengali, and Pakistani participation in South Asian activism, which is great. But what does it say about the subcontinental diaspora when, although we outnumber them, they have access to greater amounts of resources? What does it say about how little Indo-Caribbeans are regarded as “real” South Asians when the solidarity South Asians seek and mission to build a community never reach us? 

I do not feel in solidarity with my diaspora. I do not feel like we are yet a whole community. 

I have always known, as my family has always known, and as I’m sure many other Indo-Caribbeans have always known, that subcontinentals have several issues with including Indo-Caribbeans in the diaspora and community spaces. This ranges from ethnic bigotry, to anti-blackness, to casteism, to just a pure lack of knowledge in their own history. 

Whatever the reason may be, to find out that there are empirical numbers that prove what we’ve all long suspected to be true, is sad to say the least. 

To all the South Asian organizers, activists, and leaders- Do more. Do better. 

The history of the painful colonization of the country you call home, is living, breathing, and manifesting in every Indo-Caribbean. Do your best to remember that. Use the tools and resources which you have privileged access to, to include Indo-Caribbean communities in your South Asian activism, otherwise call it “me activism”. Because without Indo-Caribbeans, that’s what it is. 

It hurts me to say this. It hurts me to acknowledge that even after fighting our way halfway across the world, and then some, my people are still not seen as good enough. 

South Asian solidarity can never exist, as long as the diaspora keeps pretending Indo-Caribbeans don’t either. 

- Shabana B.

Asian American activism’s obsession with anger and being the “angry Asian” sucks for 3 main reasons

1. A lot of you end up appropriating AAVE/black culture while trying to look tough and that’s really fucking antiblack. It’s part of the bigger phenomenon where Asians steal black people’s things in an effort to be cool/strong/American. How can you perpetuate that and still think you’re supporting racial justice?

2. Asians, like all marginalized people, already have to deal with being dismissed as hysterical when we bring up oppression. Preemptively labeling yourself as angry does not attract people to your cause unless they’re already politically involved. And Asian American activists are already suffering from a huge lack of manpower. So maybe we shouldn’t worsen the issue.

3. It comes off as a pathetic attempt to be read as more masculine/aggressive so white people will take you seriously. If they won’t listen to you because they think you’re a quiet little doll that’s THEIR PROBLEM and you being mad won’t help because that would require white people to learn from the world around them.

Today Google celebrates Yuri Kochiyama, an Asian American activist who dedicated her life to the fight for human rights and against racism and injustice. Born in California, Kochiyama spent her early twenties in a Japanese American internment camp in Arkansas during WWII. She and her family would later move to Harlem, where she became deeply involved in African American, Latino, and Asian American liberation and empowerment movements. Today’s doodle by Alyssa Winans features Kochiyama taking a stand at one of her many protests and rallies.

Kochiyama left a legacy of advocacy: for peace, U.S. political prisoners, nuclear disarmament, and reparations for Japanese Americans interned during the war. She was known for her tireless intensity and compassion, and remained committed to speaking out, consciousness-raising, and taking action until her death in 2014.

For too long, (Asian) gays have refused, or strategically delayed, confronting Asian American straights about their homophobia…in the scramble to attain middle-class white respectability, Asian Americans could not be bothered with such trivia as feminists’ and gays’ demands. But today, as more and more Asian American activists come to realize the futility of a reformist strategy, it is imperative that the question of oppression of homosexuals be directly confronted.
—  Daniel C. Tsang, Gay Awareness, 1975

This is a long read but it is worth every single letter. Please read and be educated on how the current outdated U.S immigration system disenfranchises immigrants (particular immigrants of south Asian or middle eastern descent who try to gain documented status in the U.S through legal channels).

1. How old were you when you came to the United States? Tell us a little about when you first realized that you were undocumented and what that meant for you.

My story is complicated. We arrived in the U.S. from Pakistan when I was two years old, after I was diagnosed with leukemia. At the time, Pakistani hospitals didn’t provide quality care for children with cancer. As a result, my aunt, an American citizen, arranged for me and my mom to come to the U.S. on a medical visa. I received medical treatment and recovered in the U.S., but relapsed when I was four. My mom and I decided to stay in the U.S. in order for me to receive another round of treatment.

During my treatment, my father was offered sponsorship for an employment visa in the U.S. My father and sister joined us in the U.S., and the company filed the application on behalf of my entire family. The application was underway when 9/11 happened, which resulted in a major delay in many immigration cases; we waited years and years to hear back. When we did, my father’s employment visa was “arbitrarily” denied.

We then applied for asylum based on religious persecution, specifically because of the widespread oppression of Ahmadi Muslims such as my family members in Pakistan. Based upon this history, Ahmadis are often recipients of asylum. Unfortunately, our case was denied by a Houston judge with a high rejection rate. At this point, I was attending the University of Texas-Austin (UT-Austin), so my family decided to stay and appeal our asylum case since we believed we had a good chance of winning.

In November 2010, my sophomore year at UT-Austin, Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) officers raided our home in Houston and placed my parents in detention. Having my parents suddenly ripped from me was traumatizing. I was terrified for our family and the uncertainty of what lay ahead. That’s when I learned that our attorney never filed our appeal after my parents’ asylum case was denied; we were out of status. He lied and told us that he had filed the appeal, but when we confronted him and requested proof of the filing, he stopped communicating with us. Because our appeal wasn’t filed, an order of deportation was entered against us. I didn’t realize until that moment that we were undocumented.  We did everything we were supposed to do, but it wasn’t enough.

My parents were released from the detention center one month later, but were forced to wear ankle bracelets to monitor their movements for six months after their release. During this period my sister and I were monitored through ICE’s Intensive Supervision Appearance Program (ISAP). Through ISAP, we received random automated calls which, when not answered after three rings, alerted immigration officers who would then call demanding to know our whereabouts. Though we continued to attend school, it was very hard for me to engage in classes and feel like a normal student. I couldn’t concentrate on my studies and campus life knowing that my family could be torn apart at any moment.

After six months, my family was allowed to remain in the U.S. together until my sister and I finished school. I filed for DACA in April 2013, one month before graduation, and was granted DACA status in December 2013. Unfortunately, because I waited so much longer than the anticipated time to receive DACA, I had to turn down several job offers.

2. What have been the biggest barriers for you in achieving your dreams because of your undocumented status? How has DACA changed that?

The biggest barriers for me have been pursuing academic and career opportunities. In high school, I wanted to attend college outside of Texas in order to have access to courses of study unavailable in the University of Texas system. Unfortunately, I didn’t qualify for financial aid because I didn’t have a green card or citizenship. I continued to face limitations at UT-Austin due to my status, including that I was excluded from a prestigious White House internship because it was only available to those with a green card or citizenship. Even during the process of applying for DACA, I was not given any information about the status of my application. During the eight months I waited for my DACA application to be approved, I had to give up countless job opportunities and internships because I was unsure of if or when my status would be granted. I was in perpetual limbo.

Having DACA status has definitely improved my situation. I have more independence: I can work, get a driver’s license, and I am able to live my life without fear. However, most government internships and jobs beyond entry-level require at least a green card, so my DACA status doesn’t make me eligible for those positions. DACA status also creates complications for mixed-status families like mine; my parents still face uncertainty. I am incredibly grateful for my DACA status, but often feel guilty about being able to stay in the U.S. I constantly worry that my parents will be deported and taken from me.

3. What is your happiest or most vivid childhood memory?

I was a very imaginative little kid, but also very thorough and detail-oriented. I remember planning out and orchestrating these very grand tea parties with a huge, fancy table spread. I lined up all of my dolls and stuffed animals as guests. Having tea parties was a big part of my childhood and provided a much-needed distraction from reality. As a child living with cancer and constantly in-between treatments, it offered me a space to escape to a magical world where everything was perfect and I was in control.

4. Where do you see yourself in ten years? How would that change if you had status or citizenship?

I don’t know where I will be in ten years. My DACA status may not be renewed, or my parents could be deported. All of these unknown factors make it hard for me to plan long-term.

If I am still in the U.S. in ten years, I would love to be a lobbyist on technology policy at a big firm. If I was granted citizenship, I could rise above an entry-level position, get the required security clearance, travel, and advance my career to be able to support my family. Being granted a green card or citizenship would also give me access to health care under the Affordable Health Care Act (ACA), which is currently not accessible to DACA recipients, but is critical for people with a history of life-threatening illness.

5. What is one thing that no one knows about you or your most marked characteristic?

My most marked characteristic is that I am very articulate and am known for using sharp language to support my arguments. I am often chosen to be the spokesperson for my group. Whenever my friends have ideas in their heads and are unsure of how to frame an issue, they come to me and I help them work through it.

6. If you could ask one question of President Obama, what would it be?

How can you support immigration reform but not place a moratorium on deportation or provide relief for people who are not DACAmented? What about their parents and families? What about the millions of people living in the U.S. who are not eligible for DACA? Why are you tearing families apart?

7. What is your favorite quote?

“Well-behaved women seldom make history.” – Laurel Thatcher Ulrich

8. Is there anything else you would like to share about yourself or your experience in the United States?

I would like people to reflect on the concept of “belonging” and remember that many undocumented people have lived in the U.S. for most of their lives. They consider America their home. They have no other place to go—many can’t speak the language in their country of birth or no longer have family or other connections there. They continue to build community ties, contribute to the economy, and participate in American society. To tell people that they don’t belong in the U.S. is just not fair. There is no pathway to legalization for most undocumented immigrants; they are victims of an outdated system.


Yuri Kochiyama (born May 19, 1921) is a Japanese American human rights activist. Raised in San Pedro, California, in a small working-class neighborhood.  When Pearl Harbor was bombed, the life of Yuri’s family took a turn for the worse.  Her father, a first-generation Japanese immigrant, was arrested by the FBI. When President Franklin Roosevelt signed the Executive Order 9066 ordering the removal of persons of Japanese descent from “strategic areas,” Yuri and her family were sent to an internment camp in Jerome, Arkansas.  Due to these events, Yuri started seeing the parallels between the treatment of African Americans in Jim Crow South and the incarceration of Japanese Americans in remote internment camps during World War II. Subsequently she decided to devote her life to struggles against racial injustice.  

In 1960, Kochiyama and her husband Bill moved to Harlem in New York City and joined the Harlem Parents Committee. She became acquainted with Malcolm X and was a member of his Organization of Afro-American Unity, following his departure from the Nation of Islam. She was present at his assassination on February 21, 1965, at the Audubon Ballroom in Harlem, and held him in her arms as he lay dying.

In 1977, Kochiyama joined the group of Puerto Ricans that took over the Statue of Liberty to draw attention to the struggle for Puerto Rican independence. Kochiyama and other activists demanded the release of five Puerto Rican nationalists who were jailed in the United States for more than 20 years. According to Kochiyama, despite a strong movement enabling them to occupy the statue for nine hours, they intended to “give up peacefully when the police came.” The five Puerto Ricans were eventually released.

Kochiyama also became a mentor during the Asian American movement that grew during and after the Vietnam War protests. Many young activists came to her for help for several of the Asian American protests. Due to her experience and her ability to interrelate African American and Asian American activist issues, Yuri and her husband could secure reparations and government apologies for injustices toward Asian Americans such as the Japanese American internment. President Ronald Reagan signed the Civil Liberties Act in 1988 which, among other things, awarded $20,000 to each Japanese American internment survivor. The process of issuing reparation checks is ongoing.

Over the years, Kochiyama has dedicated herself to various causes, such as the rights of political prisoners, working on behalf of Mumia Abu-Jamalnuclear disarmament, and reparations for Japanese American internment.

In 2005, Kochiyama was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize through the “1,000 Women for the Nobel Peace Prize 2005” project.

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For more on Yuri :