When You're Queer And Undocumented, The DACA Stakes Are Higher | HuffPost
"For a lot of us, going back to our home countries isn’t an option because of our queerness."

When Tony Choi was in high school, his friends would ask him why he didn’t drive. He would evade the question with what he thought was the only plausible defense: He cared deeply about global warming, he told them. Twelve years later, he laughs at his attempt at that moral argument, which was simply a cover-up for the fact that he’s an undocumented immigrant and had no way of getting an ID.

“I learned to really hide myself,” Choi, who’s from Seoul, South Korea, and lives in New York, told HuffPost. “It definitely didn’t feel good. It made me scared. My sister would say, ‘If you stand out too much, they’ll take you away.’”

These memories came back to Choi, now 28, on Tuesday, when Attorney General Jeff Sessions announced President Donald Trump was nixing the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program, ending protections for some 800,000 undocumented immigrants who came to the country as minors. The program, originally enacted under former President Barack Obama and now in Congress’ hands, shielded young people from deportation and allowed them to work in the country legally.

Besides being undocumented, Choi is also gay. He points out there is more at stake for people who could be forced to go back to a country that isn’t big on LGBTQ rights. He notes that military service is compulsory in South Korea for men ― and the military penal code prohibits consensual same-sex acts.  

“For a lot of us, going back to our home countries isn’t an option because of our queerness,” he said. “If I were to go to Korea, I would have to do the two-year mandatory service in the military, and the law prohibits sodomy.”

This is important. Read the whole thing here

anonymous asked:

Hi Chekhov! I've been working many miles from home for a year now. Before that, I was away from home for school for 5 years. When I started working, it finally hit me that I actually missed the idea of home. My friends, even my family (I have some problems with them, which motivated me to not return, but I still cherish them). I just feel very isolated now. Do you ever feel homesick?

Hey! Thanks for being patient. I know I took a long time to answer this. I was thinking of how to explain it.

My gut reaction was actually to say “No, I’m sorry. I actually don’t ever get homesick.” Because… the truth is, I kind of don’t. I am one of those people that doesn’t… miss people? 

Sounds weird? Yes, maybe. I’m not sure how else to explain it. I am very much a fan of people, in general. And I have many people I love. But I don’t really experience the hallmark version of “homesickness” that I am familiar with. 

HowEVER, upon re-reading your ask, I think I might understand what you’re going through, despite being so negative at the onset. 

Let’s take it from the top.

When I was 10, my mother and I moved from our home country (Russia) to America to live there. It was my first big international flight. It was my first trip to America. I was excited, as only 10 year olds could be, because most 10 year olds lack the necessary foresight to realize what a big fucking change this was going to be. 

It was a fun thing for me.

For about a month.

And then, for the next 3 months it WASN’T fun as the real-world consequences of living 8,784 kilometers away from my grandparents, having to learn English, and going to school with kids who all thought my accent was funny (but not in a good sort of way) all crashed down on me. 

So, in a way, I was homesick.

Ok, I was just… homesick. I came home from school, curled up under my desk and cried. 

Obviously, this did not last forever. Eventually I adjusted. 

But, I think because of my crash-course in separating myself from the experience of bone-crushing isolation, my view of what was “normal” became skewed. For example, I knew (in theory) that it was normal to see your relatives fairly often. However, since we only saw ours every 4-5 years I grew accustomed to just NOT having people I liked in my life. 

(I’m going somewhere with this, I promise, stay with me.)

Anyway, that thing you said… ? About not being on great terms with family? I GET that. I get it HARD. 

When I finally left for college to live alone, it was almost entirely motivated by my desire to escape those issues. To me, being by myself was not a scary adult growing up experience. Running away and being alone was just the most logical solution to the problem. 

At that time, I moved to be about an hour away from my parents. I rarely visited. I felt no desire to. I felt alone, and that was just a relief and nothing short of it. 

In fact, I took this a step above and fled to ANOTHER country, because obviously the entertainment of not being able to speak, read or write the language of the country you’re living in is just irresistible. 

And I thought “damn, I’m a pro at this!” 

I was so used to the concept of being alone and out of my element that honestly, I never even considered it a real problem.

But the fact that I didn’t feel the strain of isolation doesn’t mean it didn’t have an effect on me.

I think I had psyched myself up for being such an untouchable person that I forgot to actually look back and check whether I was as tough as I imagined myself to be.

Because to be honest, yes.

Yes I do get homesick.

And the problem is… I don’t know where ‘home’ is anymore.

And this didn’t start when I got to Japan. I felt this way in America… and I felt this way in Russia, every time I went to visit. There was a tugging sense of not belonging… And the realization, at the same time that, even if I DID go back to the place I wanted to be, I could never feel “at home” there either. 

In fact, I think “homesickness” is not longing for a place as much as a time. 

Maybe we have fond memories of home. The feeling of loneliness is the byproduct of us remembering good things. It’s not something that’s a function of being in a different place as much as it is just a product of… growing up. Changing. Realizing that things are complicated, and wishing to go back to a time when things were LESS complicated. It’s a defense mechanism.


I think I stopped feeling homesick again when I realized that home will never be a place I can actually go back to - at least, not physically. 

It can only be something that I can go to through a photo album. Or when I’m laying in bed and, thinking, before I open my eyes “that sounds just like our summer house in Siberia…” and feeling my heart jump to my throat right before I force myself to remember I’m not there anymore. Or when I lay back in the grass and look up at the sky so I can’t see the edges and think “I don’t know where I am right now.”

(that’s my grandpa! this is an important photo for me. the feeling of this photo is not something i can feel again if I end up in front of that window. It’s a small fragment of ‘home’ lost in time, untouchable except in my memory.)

I suppose the important thing that I got from all of this (and I’m not saying you have to think about it that way!) is that home is just a place in your mind, and you can visit it whenever you want.

And as for the feelings of loneliness and homesickness? They’re VALID! They’re normal and honestly, you SHOULD feel them! It means you have good, safe memories to go back to. 

Try not to be too hard on yourself. Even if your relationship with your family is complicated, it’s ok to miss them. It’s ok to feel isolated. It’s hella stressful, and you are understandably going through a lot of stuff! 

Whatever happens from now on, you are HERE and you can make NEW memories and make a new home. And maybe sometime down the line, you’ll think back to NOW and think of that as home.

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

I want to share a personal story with you:

 I’ve mentioned before that I have a girlfriend - or as I like to call her, wife-to-be (Let’s call her Mrs. Mom)! 

She’s my soulmate, she’s “the one” for me and she feels the same about me. That’s why we want to marry (as soon as either of our home countries finally decide to allow us). 

But, to be honest with you, things have not always been rosy between us. In fact, we did break up two times and in both cases, it was me who broke up. 

If you asked me at that time why, I would’ve said “We won’t work out anyway. Things are good between us and I love her but I’ll rather break up now than see it all go downhill later because I just know we won’t last anyway”. There were of course some tiny “problems” that I blamed it on but deep down, it was just my utmost belief that it won’t last anyway. It took a few years (and luckily Mrs. Mom is very patient!) for me to truly allow myself to believe in our relationship. 

I believed that we wouldn’t last - and nowadays I see that it wasn’t my belief. I just internalized what I heard others say: that it’s just a phase. 

There was nothing wrong with our relationship or our feelings for each other: I’ve just (subconsciously) been homophobic towards myself and told myself that gay relationships never last. 

I needed to un-learn a lot of crap that society thrilled in my head. 

And now I know that this is not just me being silly or something super uncommon. Homophobia and heteronormativity often hurt us much more than we admit and run much deeper than we even are aware of. 

I hope that by openly talking about this I may save you some head- and heartache. I hope that you grow up knowing you can trust your feelings, knowing that your relationships are not less worthy, are not doomed to fail. 

I hope you know you are not alone.

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Mom 

anonymous asked:

That "we're the bad guys" mentality is exactly what let's any enemy simply trample.over not only our rights but our homes and eventually are countries. You think ISIS are the good guys for "defending their religion" or something? Volunteer for a m u s l i m centre? Yeah, totally, let's empower the very people that took my best buddy's legs. Cheers to that, dude.

Shut up.

We directly created the conditions that gave rise to ISIS. We created the Taliban and Al Quaeda before that. Our war profiteering and imperialism has done nothing but hurt civilians.

Yeah, ISIS is bad. Yeah, the others are too. But when we kill more civilians than insurgents WE ARE THE PROBLEM. There are no acceptable levels of civilian casualties.


And if you want to talk weakness and terrorism, let’s discuss the literal fucking Nazi that was protected by police weeks ago that just murdered two Americans in an act of terrorism targeting Muslim women. If you want to talk about heroism let’s discuss the young man I’m watching over in the hospital tonight–a scholar and a poet who nearly lost his life with the other two for daring to stand up against hate. A boy barely old enough to drink put his unarmed body in harms way to protect the innocent while cowards in armor invade foreign lands crying “freedom” and allowing “acceptable levels of civilian casualties” so our corporate overseers can make more money.

Shut the fuck up.

Many of us come here to achieve things that may not be available to us in our home countries. We come to succeed and thrive in our new opportunities. As an immigrant coming to the US to succeed, I am sad about the policies Trump is proposing. Although the next four years will be hard, I’m sure all of us will strive and get through it.

We are immigrants, we have faced hardships adjusting to this country. I’m sure most of us have overcome it, but we must be prepared to face them again when even the president himself is against us. We must show him that we come for a better future!

“Why do you help them?”

The clinic is quiet, the last patient for the night barely past the doors. The man had a minor throat infection, and Anders used what little mana he had left to cure it. This night, like most, will end with him utterly exhausted.

Hawke knows why she keeps coming here. The thrill of finding another apostate, especially one so proud of his abilities, has enticed her to making frequent trips to the clinic. Carver may disapprove, but this forming friendship is the first connection she’s felt in Kirkwall.

What she doesn’t understand is why he runs the clinic. There’s no benefit to it, nothing the patients can give him that wouldn’t be better served by anonymity and his own skills. Or, she thinks when he looks puzzled, maybe she does understand and just doesn’t believe. Good people don’t last long in this world.

“Why wouldn’t I?” His tone is as genuine as hers.

“They’re Fereldan. I would never speak ill of our home country,” and that’s a joke, because she hates and misses it equally, “but the people there aren’t exactly welcoming to mages. Maybe not as bad as some, but the Circle isn’t empty.” She pauses, waits to see if the realization will change his contemplative expression. It doesn’t. “Most of these people would have turned you in.”

Anders shrugs and stretches, working a kink in his neck. His knees are covered in dust, the result of kneeling on the Darktown floor for so long. “This isn’t Ferelden. And even if it was, these people need help. I couldn’t walk away and let them suffer.” He turns serious eyes on her. “Could you?”

Hawke wishes she could say no, but it’s not the truth. There’s a reason her family was never caught by the templars.

Anders judges the silence correctly. “I see.” He sighs. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think most people would value their own lives higher than others. It’s not unnatural.”

The silence stretches on as he rearranges his bandage supply, and Hawke wishes she could take the question back. Then he crosses over and sits down next to her, and the worry lifts a little. “Healing people lets them see the good in mages, but it’s more than that. You can’t judge people on what they could have done, only what they did. No one who comes to my clinic has turned me in yet. I won’t deny them relief on the assumption that they will. If I did, I’d be starting down the same path I caution against.”

There are too many things Hawke could say, things like You know that’s dangerous or I don’t think being careful is going to end with you imprisoning Fereldans. What she says instead is, “I like a man with more self sacrifice than sense.”

He laughs, and that will have to do.


Do I have any followers from the UK out here?

Not to get political but.

If you care for the disabled, as I know tumblr generally does, please vote Labour on Thursday.

Our healthcare service is something so valuable and rare and it needs to be protected. And if you care about students and those who are disadvantaged in our home countries, please.

Even if you’re not a Labour supporter, vote tactically and make sure the Tories don’t win this time.


No Eyes, No Tongue, No Fingertips: Story of a Mother’s Love

A few years back, I worked as a nurse in the geriatric unit of the hospital in my hometown. There was one old woman there with pale blue eyes whose mind was still fantastically sharp, and her desire to socialize and make new friends set her apart from most others living in that wing of the facility. That woman and I soon became close for this reason. Her name was Yana, and I still miss her every day since she passed.

The strangest thing about Yana was not her accent (which I could only place vaguely as Eastern European), nor her disinclination to talk about her past (which means I never learned exactly where she had grown up.) No, what fascinated me the most was that a strange young man, badly mutilated and plainly blind and mute, would visit her every single day. His hands appeared deformed, seemingly eroded at each digit down to the first knuckle. But each evening, a little after dinnertime, he would visit and they would sit together. She would read to him, or sometimes sing in her frail, old voice. Sometimes they would just hold hands in silence. Finally, I gathered the courage to ask her about this man, and in a strange moment of openness, she agreed to tell me the story:

“My sister and I were the only surviving members of our family after our father passed away in 1964. These were very hard times for my old country, and Father had grown so sick that we were eventually forced to allow him to starve, rather than waste food to comfort him as he inevitably died. Sister had been losing her mind little-by-little before all this happened, but I could see in her eyes as we buried Father that she had finally gone somewhere far away inside herself. I remember the crows, perched in thick groups like clots of preening black movement, watching us in the cemetery from all of the rooftops. We moved to bury Father quickly, because the crows were as hungry as we were…

Sister took to begging in the streets, sometimes trading sex for rides into the city nearby in the hopes that her begging would be more profitable there. It was during these terrible times that she conceived a son – a bastard whose father was not known to her but who was certainly some manner of predatory monster. This was the only kind of man my sister knew in those days of her life. The child was delivered healthy, happy, and with a glowing spirit that broke my heart because I knew that soon the young boy’s eyes would look like mine, and like my sister’s. Even on the day he was born, I knew his beautiful, joyous innocence could not last.

Sister did not care for her son as she should have – as God and goodness alike demand that a mother should care for her child. She would not change the boy’s soiled diapers, leaving this to me instead, and would ‘forget’ to feed him even when his hungry wailing was ringing shrill and miserable through the whole house. Eventually she began to take him out begging, using the child as a prop with which to elicit the sympathy of strangers. She was most pleased when he looked his worst, and even complained to me once or twice that she could raise no money at all on days that he looked ‘too healthy.’

I can never forget her final act of cruelty against Vasily (I named him myself after Sister could not be bothered.) It was morning, and I had walked outside into our yard to smell the air. The child was lying motionless on the ground there, and seemed quite dead – smeared as he was with his own blood. His little fingers and toes were black with frostbite; Sister had not even bundled him in anything when she laid him down hours ago in the dark of night. The crows, which were as hungry as we were, had plucked his beautiful eyes and tongue from his still-living body. I grabbed him up with tears already pouring down my cheeks, thinking that I had claimed a corpse. It was only when he stirred against my breast that I realized he might be saved.

I swaddled him as warmly as I could, and fed him something before rushing him down to the home of the town’s only doctor. I nearly beat down the front door with my fist, and he answered with sleep still in his eyes because it was so early. I paid him with all of the heirloom jewelry from Mother that I had been able to hide from Sister over the years. An hour or so later, the doctor told me Vasily would live, but asked that he be allowed to monitor the child for the rest of the day. I told him that this would be fine, as today would be a busy day for me. And indeed it was. By evening I had smashed Sister’s head to a flattened pulp with the cast-iron skillet from our stove, obtained a train ticket for passage out of our home country, and made plans to give Vasily the best life that he could still yet have.

Vasily – my son now – knows nothing about any of this, of course. I told him only that he was adopted away from a situation which he was likely not to survive. The mirthful optimism I saw on his face when he was born survives to this day inside his heart. Sister, in all her malice, had only managed to suppress it for a while. And now, almost 50 years later, he still visits his elderly mother every single day.”

She beamed with pride as she finished her story, and would say no more. And she was right, Vasily loved her so much, and wore no resentment on his face for his injuries. He always seemed to be smiling pleasantly even though (in his blindness), he often didn’t know anyone was looking. He visited her every day until she died, and he was holding her hand when she passed. I knew from his interactions with hospital staff that he understood spoken English, and so at Yana’s funeral I told him that I had been a friend of his mother’s. I told him that she was the most amazing, wonderful woman I had ever met. His sad, grateful smile grew deeper, and he nodded his head. His response came in sign language.

“She was.”

the parent trap pt11 // archie andrews

The Parent Trap (11/12)

author’s note: GUYS! this is the second to last part and I’m so emotional. i’m not sure if anyone’s noticed but I’m going to be doing a jughead au next! this part is ehhh but i hope you guys like it!!! xo

Words: 1.4k

Summary-Archie and (Y/N) separate, splitting their twin daughters between them. what happens when ten years later, the pair seem to be reunited in a twist of fate at summer camp?

previous masterlist next (pt12)

Despite Archie’s, somewhat, discreet confession. (Y/N) got on the plane with her brother and her daughter by her side. Betty, Kevin and Veronica nearby watching her as she glared out the window, trying to look sanguine for her daughter. (Y/N) knew how desperately both of her girls wanted their parents to re-unite. They had both talked to her about ‘the parent trap’. She would’ve loved to tell them both they had succeeded but she was too afraid to believe him. Maybe he had gotten cold feet. Maybe he was just frightened of getting married. (Y/N) knew Archie Andrews and from her judgement of the lift incident, nothing about him had changed from his teen years.

“Cheer up, baby girl, it’s your birthday in a week and we’re all here with you.” Betty spoke, trying to peer through the gap in between the seats

“You have Josie flying out this weekend too!” Veronica added, nodding her head “We can get absolutely wasted too.”

“Veronica! There are kids here!” Betty exclaimed, causing (Y/N) to let out a small laugh.

“Correction, there’s only one child and that child is me.” Aria giggled.

Archie sat in the back of the car, after Lillian practically shoved him in there.

“I thought she still felt the same. God, I’m an idiot for telling her that I called the wedding off for her.”

“Dad, you’re actually saddening me.” Amelia sighed “Just because you and Mom didn’t get your happy ending the first time round doesn’t mean you won’t get it. I’ve read a lot of fairy tales dad and the prince never gets the princess unless he fights for her.”

“How did you get so smart, Melia?” Lillian grinned, letting out a small laugh “But she’s right, Arch. Fight for (Y/N), don’t let her slip away as easily as she did previously.”

“I’ll call great-grandfather, I’m sure he can help us out.”

Aria’s stomach ached from laughing at her aunties bickering. Veronica desperately wanted to take (Y/N) out whereas Betty believed that it would be better if (Y/N) stayed in. To be truthful, it was obvious that (Y/N) would rather be out with her best friends than stuck at home with her family.

“G-ma Jones, are you okay with babysitting Aria?” Kevin asked “I mean, (Y/N) must be dryer than the Sahara desert.”

The entire room gasped and Aria gazed around in utter confusion, not really understanding the joke. “Mum loves to moisturise.”

“Oh my poor child, ignore Keller. He’s a vile human.” (Y/N) smiled at her friend, who picked up a cushion and flung it in her direction.

(Y/N) sat in her room, facing her mirror. Thoughts of Archie slowly creeping back into her mind. She had been so caught up in the jokes and laughter, she had forgotten the reason why she needed a night out.

“(Y/N), darling, the fact you’re running away from your problems isn’t going to solve it. I think you should fly out, see him.” Edward spoke from the door, causing everyone in the room to protest at his suggestion.


“Not happening!”

“Grandfather, why would you even suggest that?”

“She’s not going anywhere, Mr Jones!”

“Edward, don’t be so stupid!”

(Y/N) gazed around the room, noting everyone’s facial reaction to her grandfather’s suggestion. Her grandmother had a look of horror playing at her face, almost as if she had never heard anything of disgusting and vulgar. Betty, on the other hand, looked as if she had been personally attacked. Her face merging into a different range of emotions. Veronica, on the other hand, looked amused but yet she had still protested. “Listen, let’s just finish getting ready and we’ll be out of your hair.” (Y/N) spoke up “It’s time I met someone new. I’ve been so hung up on Archie for eleven years and he’s moving on and so will I.”

“Listen, (Y/N), you know, we’re not getting you out there because we want you to get over Archie. We’re getting you out there because you missed all this, you missed the chance to go out. You’ve been in mom mode, ever since we were sixteen. It was time you got to experience what we have been experiencing for the last five years.”

“We wanted you to go out tonight because we finally convinced Reggie to get his ass on a plane and finally visit  you.”

“When they say we, mum, they meant dad.” Aria spoke out, her voice louder than (Y/N) had ever heard it before. “We didn’t tell you, auntie Betty, because we knew you’d tell mum.”

Now, (Y/N) had been the one feeling a different range of emotions. She was excited, confused, upset, angry. Mostly, angry at herself for following her brain rather than following her heart. She was excited to finally be seeing Reggie in person again, those FaceTime calls weren’t enough for her. She wanted to see the guy who was basically her brother and made sure she grew up without anyone mistreating her. Although, Reggie and Jughead didn’t have the best relationship, the pair agreed on one thing and that it was to keep (Y/N) out of harm.

“Thank you for doing this, Mrs.Jo-” Archie spoke, only to be interrupted by Josephine tutting at him, telling him to call her Josephine. “Thank you for doing this, Josephine. Amelia and I really appreciate it.”

“Remember, Archibald, when we took you out to our country home, the stars were prominent that night but yet we all caught you starring at (Y/N) instead. I knew it back then that you two could never be broken apart.”

The pounding music and the alcohol running through her veins gave (Y/N) the sudden urge to dance with her friends. However, she did not want to leave Reggie, who insisted he stayed sober so he could drive the group back to the Jones’ household. He watched his slightly tipsy friend frown as she glanced around the room.

“You expecting someone?” he raised his eyebrow at her, causing her to send a smile in his direction.

“Come on, Reginald! Let’s dance!” She practically bounced off her putting her hand out from Reggie to hold on to.

The duo made their way to the dance floor, weaving through the crowds of people in an attempt to find their drunken friends. (Y/N) and Reggie seemed to dance together, for what seemed to be forever. No other lad seemed to approached her, she put it down to Reggie intimidating them, not wanting to put herself down. The night was for her to enjoy, not for her to wallow in self pity.

Feeling a tap on her shoulder, (Y/N) turned around to be met with Archie standing there with a small smile playing at his lips. She gasped and threw her arms around his neck. He pulled her closer, not wanting to lose the contact.

“What are you doing here?” she attempted to shout over the music but failed miserably. He let out a small laugh and took her hand leading her out towards the coat room.

“What are you doing here, Archie? Where’s Amelia? Wait…how’d you get here?”

“Your grandmother helped. She flew us out.”

“B-but why are you here, Arch? You have a wedding.”

“Oh my God, (Y/N), you’re so stubborn. How many times do I have to tell you that the wedding was called off before you actually believe me? I’m here for you and Aria. I let you go without a fight before and I’m not letting that happen twice! (Y/N) Jones, I am irretrievably in love with you. I always have and I always will. I don’t know what it’s like to not be in love with you. I once read this thing that said ‘the person you think of when you stand in front of the ocean. That’s the person you’re in love with.’ and guess what (Y/N), you’re the person I think about constantly.”

“Archie, don’t be so ridiculous. You don’t get to tell me that you’ve always been in love with me, when a week ago you were engaged to be married to a completely different woman. I-I can’t do this. I’m sorry, Archie.”

Archie stood in his spot, speechless, watching as the mother of his children, the woman he loved, walked away.

it’s important to me that I’m queer because I’m aro ace, and not despite being aro ace

I have other ‘qualifications’, like being agender, and feeling some types of attraction that definitely are not straight

but that attraction is something Else, and to me, it’s not at all despite being aro ace; sensual attraction, alterous attraction, platonic attraction, whatever terms you use, it is intimately entwined with my experience as an aspec and can’t be meaningfully seperated from it and still be me

it can’t be separated from the joy I feel reading about intimate platonic relationships in history or the relief I feel when I think of how I don’t have to ever have to have sex if I don’t ever want to (which I’ve always dreaded and used to think was unavoidable) or the hollowness I felt when I tried dating and found it awful and thought that meant something was wrong with me

the fact that it is now legal for me to marry my partner in either of our home countries is a victory; however, it was also a victory for me to realize, age thirteen, that a thirty-year-old woman acquaintance of mine was not married, and therefore that I, too, did not have to marry in order to grow up

and if I choose to marry my partner it will be as an aro ace person, making a choice to commit myself to a platonic relationship that is the most important thing in my life, and it does not cancel out the relief I felt then, because I am still choosing to say no to the only narrative I was given: fall in love (with a boy), get married, have kids

It important that I do not have to marry a boy, and that I do not have to have kids, but it is equally important that I do not have to fall in love.

I can’t even take my agenderness and separate it from my aspec identity because to me these three things are very similar and interconnected. My experience is not fragmentable.

I’m queer because I don’t feel things that I’m supposed to in a world that rigidly constrains the ways you’re supposed to feel things, and towards whom. I don’t need to have any other reasons.

My emptiness is its own kind of wholeness, and other things that I feel spring from it, and I feel happy when I see people who are allowed to be empty like me and still be whole

the-dangers-of-ingesting-mercury  asked:

Hi Sefa, I was just wondering if you had any resources about why Zionism is such a popular viewpoint in the west, or if you could point me in the right direction. Sorry if this is coming off like "it's your duty to teach me" but your post has just really shown me I don't know nearly enough about the subject

hope you don’t mind me posting this! some disclaimers: i am not, nor do i claim to be, an expert on this by ANY means. i don’t really have specific resources for you but i’ll try to give an explanation based on my own views. i’m mostly going to be speaking from personal experience as someone who grew up as (and still is) a mostly mainstream american jew. i would offer links and sources but it’s hard to find unbiased ones so rather than give links to sites i can’t guarantee the objectivity of, i’ll give my knowledge and then encourage you to go explore more info on your own if you so choose. this is gonna be long, so buckle in.

so first of all, zionism, from what i know, was originally a movement to unite jews worldwide into a singular group and to eventually gain self-determination. early zionists always had their eye on palestine, but were also looking at several other countries in which to establish a sovereign jewish state, like uganda. since the establishment of the state of israel in 1948, the goal of zionism is essentially to support and justify the reason for israel’s existence, and to purport that jews deserve to live safely in a nation of our own. it’s essentially a form of jewish nationalism.

prior to the holocaust there was nowhere near as much widespread jewish support for zionism. global antisemitism is an enormous reason why so many jews are zionists, which, while not justified or acceptable, is an understandable path of logic. additionally, and perhaps due to that, jews in the west (and possibly elsewhere, but i can’t speak on that) are often basically brainwashed into idealizing israel as the be-all end-all of judaism, the eventual endgame we should all strive toward.

there’s a lot of anti-arab and anti-palestinian propaganda, a lot of historical revisionism, and it’s fed to kids at such a young age and then reinforced through many jewish institutions throughout our lives. i definitely considered myself a zionist at one point in the not-so-recent past, though i also considered myself pro-palestine (which obviously doesn’t work). it’s a dastardly combination of real antisemitism and embellished logic fed to corruptible people who really don’t have the knowledge to believe anything else.

i grew up at a conservative synagogue and a reform summer camp, and they both fairly equally contributed to this brainwashing. american jews pray facing east, we say prayers for the state of israel. young kids slip tiny notes and prayers into paper and cardboard models of the western wall. we learn about israeli culture and at camp several times a summer we had israel day. when i was a sophomore we had army day at one point in the summer, and our counselors (who were all israeli in that particular unit) pretended to be our army commanders for the day. we had educational programs about israel. it’s a lot of reinforced bias and brainwashing so that by the time you’re old enough to think critically, your mind is already made up and it doesn’t even occur to you that you’re misunderstanding SO many things.

we’re taught to essentially keep israel in our back pockets as an option in case antisemitism in our home countries gets to be too dangerous. we’re supposed to believe that israel really is the center of judaism and that diasporic jews are just waiting to come home. it’s insidious. and naturally i learned a bunch of false or revised versions of history that led me to believe, of course israel should exist and has always done the right thing, everyone just hates israel because everyone hates the jews and we’re not safe anywhere else.

so essentially there are two kinds of zionists that you’ll come into contact with in the west: those who are fully aware of the objective facts and still support the ideology,  who use twisted versions of that information to brainwash others into agreeing with them, and those who have been brainwashed. you’ll meet much more of the latter group than the former, especially if they’re just mainstream western jews who have never really taken the time to learn about israel for themselves beyond what they were taught by mainstream jewish institutions - and that rarely happens.

it’s the perfect system. they point out the very real antisemitism that exists in the world and they say, “look! look at how dangerous it is to be jewish in this world! this is why we need a place of our own, where we can be safe and we can be jewish in peace!” which isn’t inherently a nasty idea on its own, but jewish safety CANNOT come at the expense of others. and having an established state comes at the expense of displacing and enacting violence and oppression against the palestinian people.

jewish antizionists aren’t self-hating internalized antisemites, we just don’t believe our own well-being should come at the expense of the well-being of other people.

what i really believe is that rather than taking an attitude of “if you’re a western jewish zionist literally don’t ever come in contact with me and also you should die” i think we should be reaching out to these people and having these discussions, explain the realities of the evils and crimes against humanity israel is committing against the people of palestine, and explain that it is VERY possible to have a strong jewish identity while condemning atrocities committed against others. in fact, zionism as it exists really can’t be reconciled with judaism at all.

that kind of reaching out would have helped me learn the truth much sooner, and i think that’s the way we need to approach this. maybe this wouldn’t be an effective strategy in every situation, but i truly believe is that a lot of mainstream american jewish “zionists” wouldn’t really support zionism if they knew the truth - that’s what happened with me and a number of other american antizionist jews that i know. so rather than pushing them away and declaring them to be lost causes, we should be educating them and gaining their sympathies for our cause, because after all the entire purpose is to stop the nationalist ideology and to stop the oppression of palestinians, not to yell at zionists for social justice brownie points and then do nothing material.

as far as non-jewish zionists, israel is a major u.s. ally and also some sects of christianity believe that jesus won’t return until the jews have control of israel. so that’s why a lot of (mostly conservative) goyim in the u.s. consider themselves zionists. 

i hope that made sense? again i’m not a historian or an expert or anything of the sort, this is just a brief (lol) explanation of how i personally have come to interpret the situation

The Groups of The Patronus Test - Explained

Before reading this you should read this post first so that you know what I am talking about.

Like I said in my previous post you can see some kind of patterns within each group if you take a closer look. To clarify things and to maybe help you to figure out the right groups for you, I’ll try to explain for what each group stands by giving them titels or listing personality aspects (the way I interpret them). You don’t have to make your decisions based on this post!!

Note: It’s all about what makes you feel at ease or what you can least live without (hence your happiest memory)! For example in Q3: do you feel the most content in situations where you take the lead, stand your ground or play it safe?
This test might adress aspects of your personality you don’t like. Do yourself a favour and forget about your insecurities for the few minutes in which you figure your groups out. Honesty to oneself is crucial for getting the right result!

If you’ve got any questions please send me an ask or message! I’ll be happy to help.
(This post will probably constantly updated until the day I die)

Keep reading

We need to have a conversation about how we view the characters in this series. This is going to be a long post, but I would really appreciate it if you guys would take the time to read it.

(Note: If you were involved with that twitter conversation that I mention and are reading this, know that I do not want to continue that conversation because I honestly don’t believe what you believe and neither of us will change our perspective)

The other day I stumbled upon a Twitter thread saying that the only reason Helias is popular is due to the fact that Helene is white and that the entire Helias ship is invalid. I went back and forth with quite a few people and it got nasty really quickly. After entering the argument (which yes was a poor choice), I was told that people ONLY make Helene fan art and that the tags are flooded with her instead of Laia. After that thread was concluded, I saw a thread hating on Helene calling her “white feminist trash”.  

To begin with, the only ship that is truly invalid would be Marcus and Helene because it is abusive and based off of violence. I also would like to say that Helias isn’t a popular ship. In a recent poll on Twitter, only 12% of respondents said that Helias was their preferred ship over Elaia (a little under 125 people took this survey including me). I can’t comment on why some artists have decided to draw Helene, but she isn’t the only muse for art in this book. I have seen a lot of Laia fan arts on this website.

Secondly, you shouldn’t be using race as an insult. Nobody on this planet controls what race they are born. Basing your insults off of someone’s race is really low no matter what color the person is you are insulting. If the color of Helene’s skin is the basis for your hatred of her, you missed the ENTIRE POINT of An Ember in the Ashes and A Torch Against the Night. 

Also, Helene isn’t just admired because she is white. I have talked to quite a few people on this website and not once have I heard people say “Oh, I only relate to Helene because she looks like me”. I honestly don’t know where people got that idea. Helene is incredibly complicated but relatable. She has her flaws, but that is what makes her human. Helene was raised to uphold the empire and doesn’t have the same moral advantages as Elias, but she is still realizing things don’t add up about her beliefs. 

Some girls in this fandom see themselves in her because they have either fallen in love with their best friends and experienced the same emotional turmoil or have been raised to uphold a flawed belief and they are realizing how flawed that belief is or they share the same morals as Helene. 

The issue at hand really isn’t Helene and it isn’t just exclusive to this fandom. Some (not all) readers will attack authors and characters alike for something they can’t control: the color of their skin. Some people naturally aren’t drawn to some characters or writing styles and that is fine. What isn’t fine is the fact that people will attack others for something as petty and unimportant as their skin tone. Skin tone shouldn’t define who you are as a person. I am not saying that representation of POC isn’t important because it is. This world is more diverse than we could ever imagine. However, people are more than just their exterior.

As readers, our job is primarily to enjoy the story, but it is also to analyze the plot/characters/setting and learn something from it. We need to understand character’s origins and look at their growth as people. 

Helene naturally will lean more towards the Empire because she was raised to be loyal to it. Most of us would lean more towards our home country too. However, through her character growth, you can see she is realizing how messed up the Empire is and that she needs to adjust her beliefs. 

You are allowed to be critical of characters or even dislike them, but we need to be conscious of where those characters have started from. No character is perfect just like no human is perfect. We all have good and we all have bad. People need to start being more accepting of this.

This fandom needs to be welcoming for everyone. I am sure I speak for a lot of people when I say that this fandom is my safe place and I want to keep it that way. Every single one of us should have the same goal of making this fandom a place of love, not hate. I hope every single one of us can work together to achieve that.

Thank you for reading and your consideration. I genuinely appreciate you reading this. Please message me at @the-insurrectionist if you have any comments or feel that this post doesn’t do a good job at explaining something.
- Lillie

War and north korea

North korea is scared to start a nuclear fight with us cause if they go into nuclear war then we go into nuclear war thats what they dont want dont panic about this north korea only has 16 nukes we have 6,000 they’re gonna get destroyed if they try to fight us and they know that they’re probably gonna fight our infantry and not gonna try to fight our Home country.

Locker Neighbour (Calum Hood Imagine)

Originally posted by 5sosisourlife

Summary: Y/N just moved to Australia after her dad got a job offer and she wasn’t at all excited about starting a new life. She especially wasn’t excited to be at a school with a social monarchy.

Requested: Nope

Warnings: Insults + swearing + mention of death

A/N: I would like to clarify that this is really not at all my idea. I read a fanfic aaaaggessss ago called ‘Lockers’ (and I’m unsure about who [but if someone could message me who] wrote it, I’d be grateful). This is totally inspired by that fanfic but I’ve changed the plot a bit.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

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my sweet mother, she’s so worried about the earthquakes that happened in México, our home country, she went out to buy a bunch of supplies like toiletries, blankets, food, clothes, toys, etc to send to the people that have been affected. We don’t have a lot, but despite that, she decided to give and I’m just so inspired by her right now

: I want to take us far away to another planet get rid of those in power who are using it to destroy our homes, our countries and our planet.. Somewhere we can start over.. Free of hate and judgement… The world is out of control its CHAOS. I can’t even name every country I am praying for or every minority being attacked… I can’t save the world and it feels like sometimes we are helpless to those who are killing, hurting and destroying humanity. However… Spreading more hate by attacking people for not doing enough, or not posting hashtag prayers quick enough is just an extension of the problem. Hashtags don’t and have never saved the world… Did we find Kony.. Did we bring back out girls?? We did make a lot of money by pouring ice buckets on our heads but honestly.. I never feel I’m doing enough and yet I’m always trying in every way I can. All I can urge you is to do the same, but we are all the same and we are all equal here so don’t attack another for praying for their family in France or Syria or in the BLM protests but not listing everywhere else that matters every time.
We should be holding hands, loving with our whole hearts and being kind to each other, after all above us seems to be a scary place and we will only get through this by caring for one another and not judging and being United.
I care about everything going on, I’m sad, I’m disheartened. Things don’t feel the same, I’m confused.. I feel everything you probably do… I am in France right now but I’m also reading about Turkey.. And watching awful videos of BLM protesters being bashed and arrested while peacefully protesting the murder of innocent people by the police force who should be protecting them.
Don’t fight one another, use that energy to fight for a cause, to fight for the bigger picture.