Christian university rejects $3 million donation so it can keep its LGBTQ group
An American university has rejected $3m (£2.3m) funding from a Christian organisation that demanded it shut down an LGBT students' group.

Samford University, a private Christian school in Alabama, rejected a $3 million donation from a group of churches who wanted the school to shut down its newly-formed LGBTQ student group. 

Samford’s LGBTQ group, Samford Together, only formed this year. The Alabama Baptist Convention offered the sizable donation on the grounds that the school reject Samford Together. The school decided to voluntarily reject the donation and keep the LGBTQ group going. 

“I believe the action taken by our trustees is something that both parties have been anticipating for some time and will serve the best interests of both Samford and the Alabama Baptist State Convention,” said university president Andrew Westmoreland.

“Our longstanding educational and ministry relationships with Alabama Baptists have always been more significant than money, and these relationships will continue and flourish.”

Dr Westmoreland added he wanted the university to address topics related to human sexuality and "other important issues at the intersection of Christian understanding and cultural reality.”

He stopped short of offering formal recognition to Samford Together, but said the university would “work to accomplish each of the group’s worthy goal.”

It warms my heart to see a story about a religious school that does right by its LGBTQ students, even at an actual financial cost. They’re not as commonplace as they should be. 

I really like Steven universe because of how it treats emotions

Steven is allowed to be sensitive and kind and feel too much.

He’s allowed to cry and be a kid.

I feel like American cartoons try too hard to show life as zany and fun and their protagonists always being upbeat and happy or just in general doesn’t let them show real, softer emotions.

Like boys are energetic and humorous.

They don’t get to cry about missing their moms.

But Steven, you know, he deals with a lot. He loves his friends too deeply, he can’t help but feel guilty about his mother being gone, even though it’s not his fault.

He’s cried a few times and each time has been heartbreaking because he’s such an upbeat optimistic type of person.

I just love it because a lot of Steven universe also addresses being at peace with yourself and confronting your emotions and dealing with them.

Kids can watch the show and hum “here comes a thought” when they’re anxious or upset…

They can grow up knowing they should “take a minute and find themselves.”

A lot of the show is about finding inner strength and moving on from past trauma.

It’s not about repressing feelings and “being a man.”

That’s also something I love.

Mostly female characters AND I dunno, it’s a feminine message, that we can solve our problems with pacifism and compassion.

Steven doesn’t beat peridot into submission, nor does he intentionally ally himself with Lapis Lazuli because he knows she’s powerful and he wants an ally.

He’s just kind to everyone.

And they want to be kind BACK.

And that just happens to get him powerful friends.

And even non powerful friends, friends who just do their bests.

That’s a great theme too, the struggle with self image and confidence.

Pearl’s come so far, Amethyst has come so far, even Garnet and Ruby and Sapphire.

Every relationship is also solved through communication.

Not fighting or obstinacy but through open talks and honest emotions being explored.

It’s just really healthy.

It’s such a great thing to show kids.

I love this show.

It’s not only a great concept and a really rich universe with lots of great female and other characters, but a damn wonderland of complex emotions.

It’s alright to feel sad, hurt, betrayed, angry, even despairing, but take an honest look at yourself, and at the people who love you, and know you will pull through because you’re stronger than you think, and these things do not weaken you, they are simply a part of you.

Joe Biden rails against Trump during Cornell commencement

  • Former Vice President Joe Biden blasted President Donald Trump for “bestowing legitimacy on hate speech” during his Cornell University commencement address Saturday. 
  • “This past election cycle churned up some of the ugliest realities that still remain in our country,” Biden said. “Civilized discourse and real debate gave way to coarsest rhetoric stroking our darkest emotions.”
  • “I thought we had passed the days where it was acceptable for political leaders at local and national levels to bestow legitimacy on hate speech,” he continued. Read more. (5/28/2017 3:01 PM)
Flood my (Christmas) Mornings

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment:  Sweet Souls (Jamie tells Bree a story to get her to sleep) 

Here’s a link to another Christmas-themed scene written for Christmas 2016, along with a Brian and Ellen ficlet from @gotham-ruaidh!

December 25, 1950

‘Children laughing, people passing’

Laughing. That’s what one expects to hear from children on Christmas morning. 


Jamie and I went from dead-sleep to complete and utter panic in a single heartbeat, and staggered blindly to her room to find it empty. After a frantic ten seconds, we found her in the doorway to the living room, shrieking in delight at the Christmas tree by the fire.

I groaned in relief and clutched my belly, panting, but Jamie was faster to action. “Brianna Ellen Fraser!” His whole body electric with adrenaline, he snatched her up off the ground and made her look him in the eye.“You’re NOT to prowl around the house wi’out your mother or me, d’ye hear me? Ye stay in your room until we fetch ye.” He gave her a harmless but firm shake for emphasis. “D’ye hear?”

“But—but—Daddy, LOOK!” She contorted in his arms to loll her head back at the tinsel-clad tree. “CHRINSMINS!!!”

Jamie exhaled hugely and closed his eyes for a moment, as if forcing the fear and anger to exit his body. I rubbed his arm encouragingly and he made a small sound of acknowledgment before kissing Bree’s cheek. “Aye, Christmas, it is.” He set her back down on the floor and put his arm around my waist, the both of us looking down ruefully at our grey-hair-inducing progeny. “Ye like the tree, cub?”

“AYE!” Bree squealed emphatically, bouncing twice on the spot for joy before running over to examine it more closely.

Jamie and I had brought in the tree last night after she had gone to bed, making a happy, pajama-clad, fireside evening of getting the thing decorated as the snow gathered outside. We’d happily gorged ourselves on Mrs. Byrd’s iced gingerbread and guzzled apple cider as we festooned the branches with baubles and tinsel. Jamie, though he’d never before the 20th century heard of such a daft thing as bringing a live tree indoors and gaudying it up, seemed absolutely delighted by the overall effect—though in all honesty, it may have been the dollops of whisky he added to his cider. He kept on stepping back and proclaiming passionately, “’s’BEAUTiful!” 

A good portion of the tinsel ended up in our hair and clothing, for decorating inevitably turned into throwing and fits of helpless giggles; and, of course, icing was attack-smeared over faces as we laughed ourselves hoarse; and *naturally,* one thing led to another, AND we ended up on the ground, naked, covered in sticky sugar, and making sweet, sweet Christmas Eve love on the rug (an activity that doesn’t often make the carols and poems, that)(but pretty bloody festive, in my book). 

Jamie’s squeezing my arse into oblivion (as though also remembering our celebrations last night) was more than a little distracting as we fondly watched Bree, swaying as she stared in rapture up at the tree. “S’all—” she made a vague, sweeping gesture with both arms, and hopped up and down, “—all—HAPPY!”

I gave Jamie a squeeze back, laughing. “The tree makes you feel happy, lovey?”

Bree glared at me, ever the toddler-pedant. “It IS happy, Mama, see? See it?”

“You’re so right, baby. It’s a very happy tree.”

A quarter of an hour later, with mugs of tea and plates of toast with cinnamon butter, Bing Cosby crooned out Christmas tunes from the record player while the rest of us sat on the floor by the fire to open gifts.

Bree went first, of course, and her gasp of delight was nearly as alarming as the one that had awoken us in terror. “Issa TRAINNN!!” she squealed, pulling the wrapping paper loose with startling voracity. 

All in all, I would wager Jamie had just as much fun setting the wooden train set up as Bree, and she was having a jolly good time. Seeing the pair of them laying on their stomachs, choo-choo-ing along and causing disastrous (and apparently hilarious) collisions was a special kind of joy.

I wrapped my hands around my mug and leaned back against the face of the sofa, feeling—something in my belly. Not movement—it was far too early for quickening, but that bit of foreign pressure…yes, that was there.

 I can’t wait to meet you, little one, I said silently to my child. Hurry up and join us, alright? And I could have sworn the pressure responded. 

“Happy Christmas, Sassenach.” Jamie was handing me a lumpy parcel wrapped in brown paper.  

“Oh, darling!” I cried in delight a moment later, wrapping what turned out to be a sumptuous plum-colored wool scarf around my neck, “this is gorgeous! Wherever did you get it?”

“Made it.”

“…You MADE it??”

“Oh, aye,” he shrugged, oh-so-casually.  

I just bloody stared at him. “You….KNIT???”

“Aye…is it bad?” He was startled by the intensity of my shock and he looked both bewildered and slightly nervous. 

“NO—not at ALL, but—” I ran my fingers over the fine, neat rows of stitches. “I just—don’t think I’ve ever known a man that knits!”

“No? All highland boys do. Something to keep the hands useful while tending sheep or the like. Or, when there’s down moments at the barn not occupied by the lassies,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. He grinned shyly. “Ye really like it?”

“I LOVE it,” I said, with complete sincerity. “Just you wait, all the girls at the hospital will be after you to make THEM one!” 

“Well, I’ll do what I can,” he said amiably, and I could tell he was gratified. 

“Lord, I feel foolish over your present now.” It was definitely NOT homemade.

He grinned. “I’m sure I’ll love it, mo nighean donn.” 

He did love it, in fact. The look of glee in his eye as he thumbed through the full-color special edition of Motor Trend (along with an indefinite subscription) made it clear just how much of a monster we’d created in letting Jamie get his hands on a car— Sorry, get his hands on BONNIE (Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ). See? A monster.  He was vociferating passionately about one of the articles on new headlight trends for 1951, when both of our Parent Radar Senses pricked up. “Bree, what are ye doing, there, lass?” 

Bree was walking purposefully toward the foyer, and said only, “Somethin’” 

Jamie snorted with a laugh. “Ye dinna say!” 

“Loveyyyyy…. Tell Mum and Da what you’re doing, over there.” 

She didn’t answer, intent on reaching under the buffet cabinet by the door to grab for something, something that turned out to be a mailing envelope.  

“Why, you clever girl, spotting that!” I peered in vain to ascertain if it was a piece of incoming mail or outgoing. Regardless, it must have gotten pushed off the back of the cabinet by accident, and sat unseen for God knew how long. Hopefully it wasn’t an overdue bill or something urgent. 

“Aye, good work, cub. Can ye bring it here?” 

Pleased with her successful rescue mission, Bree skipped back to us and gave the letter to Jamie. He glanced at it for a minute, then grinned. “That’s a Christmas present for your Mama, a leannan.” 

“Oh? Another one?”

“No’ one that was planned, but I think it’ll be a welcome one, all the same.” 

“Heer’go, Mama,” Bree said, flinging it unceremoniously into my lap. Harvard University, the return address said. 

“Could be very much NOT a present, you know,” I said, seizing up and feeling like I wanted to vomit from anxiety. “In admissions, small envelopes are usually bad news, not good.” 

Jamie’s expression wavered a bit at that, but he gave a game sort of shrug. “Open it?” 

I slit open the envelope with a fingernail. God, these old fuddy-duddy bastards surely rejected me for being a married woman. Thank God, I hadn’t known I was pregnant at the time, for that surely would have been an automatic, No thank you. This rejection would be—


It must have shown on my face, for Jamie was beaming from ear to ear as he crawled over to kiss me. “Well done, Sassenach!!” 

“It does say accepted, right?” I handed him the letter. “My brain isn’t making it up?” 

“Aye, there it is, right in black and white. ‘We are pleased to inform you that you have been ACCEPTED.’ Bree, lass, your mother’s going to be a doctor! That’s exciting, aye?” 

“Yeah!!!” Bree said, though she was mostly focused on her trains. 

“More like I’m going to be a part-time organic chemistry and biology student,” I said, but practically bubbling over with relief. I’d been expecting that goddamn letter WEEKS ago! “Just the two prerequisites, but…” BUT STILL! 

“I’m so proud of ye, lass,” he said, beaming. “Happy, happy Christmas, mo ghraidh.”  


2017 Baccalaureate Speaker: Daveed Diggs

Daveed Diggs, performer, rapper and writer and Honorary Degree Candidate delivered the Baccalaureate address to the Class of 2017 on Saturday afternoon, May 27, in the Meeting House of the First Baptist Church in America.

Not only did Brown upload another video of just D’s speech, but it’s also filmed with nice close-ups and even has captions. Go Brown!

afoolsfollower  asked:

Hi! Whenever I read Jane Austen I'm always struck by the fact that husbands and wives often refer to each other as 'Mr/Mrs Surname'. Do you know if this form of address was universal at that time/place and if couples used it in private as well as public? Thank you!

John Mullan touches on this in his wonderful book ‘What Matters in Jane Austen?’ and I believe the general etiquette of the time was to refer to one’s spouse by the Mr./Mrs. Surname thing as a general form of respect. Where we see this alter is in more affectionate marriages, where the husband will sometimes refer to his wife by her Christian name–however this is rarely reversed. Admiral Croft refers to his wife as Sophy, but in return she only ever calls him Admiral–but there can be little doubt of their mutual affection! Mary Musgrove calls her husband Charles, but then as a couple their levels of respect for one another are quite weak, and there is another Mr. Musgrove in her father-in-law up at the Great House, so just about everybody refers to Mr. Musgrove the younger as Charles Musgrove, to save confusion. In Mary’s case, calling her husband Charles is probably meant as a sign that she doesn’t much respect her husband.

As there aren’t any extremely private/intimate scenes between married couples in her books, we cannot know, of course, exactly what terms of address are used. It would really be determined by their own comfort levels and regard, of course. In public, however, is a different matter entirely. To even ‘nick-name’ a man by dropping the ‘Mr.’ is extremely cheeky and, as we see with Mrs. Elton and ‘Knightley’, informality bordering on the disrespectful which people in Highbury probably only put up with because Mrs. Elton is new and the vicar’s wife and they’re all going to have to get along for many years to come so best to let the little lapses slide…but it is a lapse, particuarly as Mrs. Elton has only just made everyone’s acquaintance. She’s moving too fast and being far too famliar.

Darcy and Bingley are Darcy and Bingley after a certain length of acquaintance when they are the subjects of discussion among the Bennets (particularly Jane and Elizabeth, and Mr. Bennet,) but to their faces, of course, they are always Mr. and Mr. (Of course the given name of Fitzwilliam is kind of a mouthful so fanfic tends to prefer to have Elizabeth refer to her husband as Darcy at all times. But in company she’d certainly call him Mr. Darcy.)


Baccalaureate Ceremony 2017

Brown’s Baccalaureate tradition derives from the range of religious, ethnic, geographic, linguistic, and musical traditions present within the campus community. The ceremony includes rituals, readings, poetry and prayers from Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, Christianity, Buddhism, Native American, animist and other religious and cultural traditions, as well as dancing, choral and instrumental music, a Chinese lion dance, and Taiko and Senegalese drumming. This year’s Baccalaureate address, “Daveed Diggs Says Some Things” was delivered by Daveed Diggs, class of 2004.

For those who missed the livestream of his Baccalaureate address, Brown was kind enough to upload the ceremony. 

His intro begins at 1:02:00 and his speech at 1:09:54.

You know what there’s another problem in Steven Universe I’ve needed to address for a while and that’s while the female characters (includinge gems I guess) even though the show claims to promote body diversity, many of them are still conventionally beautiful and meant to be aesthetically pleasing whereas male characters since too many are just side characters with little development are still allowed to be goofy and “unattractive”

[Oats] opened the book at random, struck a match and read:
“…and in that time, in the land of the Cyrinites, there was a multiplication of camels…”
The match hissed out.
No help there, no clue. He tried again.
…and looked upon Gul-Arah, and the lamentation of the desert, and rode then to…”
Oats remembered the vampire’s mocking smile. What words could you trust? He struck the third match with shaking hands and flicked the book open again and read, in the weak and dancing light:
“…and Brutha said to Simony, ‘Where there is darkness we will make a great light…’
The match died. And there was darkness.
Granny Weatherwax groaned. At the back of his mind, Oats thought he could hear the sounds of hooves, slowly approaching.
Oats knelt in the mud and tried a prayer, but there was no answering voice from the sky. There never had been. He’d been told never to expect one. That wasn’t how Om worked anymore. Alone of all the gods, he’d been taught, Om delivered the answers straight into the depths of the head. Since the prophet Brutha, Om was the silent god. That’s what they said.
If you didn’t have faith, then you weren’t anything. There was just the dark.
He shuddered in the gloom. Was the god silent, or was there no one to speak?
He tried praying again, more desperately this time, fragments of childish prayer, losing control of the words and even of their direction, so that they tumbled out and soared away into the universe addressed simply to The Occupier.
The rain dripped off his hat.
He knelt and waited in the wet darkness, and listened to his own mind, and remembered, and took out the Book of Om once more.
And made a great light.

– on making a great light | Terry Pratchett, Carpe Jugulum



I was like a machine today, you guys. I was like a god. A legend. 5:30 AM I was awake. 6:45 AM I was getting an iced mocha from Caribou Coffee. At 6:55 AM I was eating the whipped cream out of my iced mocha with a straw while in my car, like a weirdo.

7 AM I was in the doors of the event center setting things up. 7:30 - 8 AM I was greeting the pharmaceutical companies that had donated money to the event and my partners at the university, 8 AM - 9 AM I was helping register the 250 people that attended the conference. 

9 AM my partner from the university and I addressed our opening remarks to the huge crowd! We had three speakers, two movement disorder specialists and one speech-language pathologist, and a panel of four movement disorder specialists taking questions from the audience over the lunch hour.

I, me, personally, got SO MANY COMPLIMENTS from everyone from the audience, the pharmaceutical company sponsors, the infamously critical board of directors, my amazing cool boss who gave me a hug and told me she was proud of me, and the entire movement disorder department at the university, including the chair and the co-chair, and the administrator of the department!!!! THEY thanked ME for letting THEM work with ME on this event and said they wanted to partner with me again to do this next spring!!! The director of the department thanked ME in his closing remarks!!! My partner and co-event-coordinator from the university said I was a delight to work with!!!

It went so perfectly, you guys. It went so smoothly. I looked at the crowd and the event and I was like, I did this!!!! I was in the zone. 

I was just. The happiest I have been all year. I called my parents when I got home and I was just like screaming on the phone because of how well it went. My co-event-coordinator and I have been planning and promoting this event for five months, and it is WONDERFUL to have it done and have it be a success. 

College Gothic
  • You walk to class with your headphones in. People are staring. Your music is too loud and they hear it. You turn it down, but the music is still too loud. You turn your phone off but people keep staring. The music is too loud. You cast your headphones aside but the music is always too loud.
  • You sleep through your alarm. No big deal, but you set a second one just in case the next time. You sleep through your alarms and almost miss class. You set a third alarm and you sleep through your alarms. You set more alarms. It’s almost time for class and your alarms haven’t gone off. They never go off.
  • You walk past the Rec every day. Through the clouded windows, you see unidentifiable people working with unidentifiable machines. Sometimes your friends invite you join them at the Rec, but you’re always too busy. Your friends never invite you again. You never see them again. You keep yourself busy.
  • You receive an email from your advisor reminding you of office hours. You receive an email from the dining hall requesting you fill out a survey. You receive an email from the police alterting you about an off-campus crime. You receive an email from the wrong department about an event to which you’re not going. You receive an email from an unknown university address filled with gibberish. You never receive a response to the email you sent your professor.
  • You dump your trash down the garbage shoot. There’s a distinct odor far down the chute but you ignore it. Later, you dump more trash. The odor is still there. No one discusses the odor or how far down the chute it is. No one likes to think about where, or if, the chute ends.
  • You eat lunch in the cafeteria. You are served Meat. You can’t tell what animal it might have come from. You eat dinner and are served Different Meat. It is the same meat.
  • You meet your RA as you move in. They seem nice, but you can’t remember their name. You run into your other RA in the dining hall. You don’t catch their name. On your way to class, your other RA says hello. You don’t know their name. You see your other RA putting up a bulletin board. They all have the same name, but you don’t know their name.
  • You take a break from homework. You deserve it. You surf the internet to recuperate. Everyone in the dorm is checking their computers. Tumblr is loading slowly, so slowly, so slo

lifehack: if you don’t know someone’s name and it would be too awkward to ask them but you do know their university email address you can look them up in the directory and hope that they go by their listed first name

Blu-ray Review: Train to Busan

Train to Busan (also known as Busanhaeng) smashed records in its home country of South Korea with over 11 million theatergoers. It also became the highest-grossing Korean film in several other countries, grossing nearly $100 million worldwide. But a movie’s overseas success doesn’t always translate to western viewers. Train to Busan, however, is easily accessible to a worldwide audience, and it does so with great gusto.

Workaholic divorcee Seok-Woo (Gong Yoo) intends to spend his young daughter Su-an’s (Kim Soo-Ahn) birthday with her, but the oft-neglected youth begs to spend it with her mother in Busan instead. Seok-Woo reluctantly agrees to make the hour-long train ride, unaware that a zombie outbreak is on the rise. One of the infected is on board with them, and it’s not long before the majority of the passengers become flesh-hungry maniacs. Because the scheduled stops are infested with the undead, the conductor opts to continue moving.

Keep reading

sometimes i think about my accounting Professor Kent AUs (part 1 | part 2) and think about how Kent and Tater would meet. I’m fond of the meet on Tinder AU, but im also digging Professor Kent running late to get on the train, and Tater taking the train home because he’s carrying a bunch of hockey equipment and his car broke down or something, and they’re standing close to each other when the train jolts to a stop.

Kent loses his footing and falls straight into Tater, but Tater catches him with one free hand and basically rolls Kent towards his body and holds him close instinctively. Kent is embarrassed and annoyed because this day has not been the greatest to start off with, but when he looks up, he’s face-to-face with this handsome Russian man with a Falconers cap who’s peering at him with a grin as bright as anything, and the apology dies in his throat momentarily. He does regain his senses after a bit and stammers out a belated “sorry,” but Tater waves it off, rights Kent with one steady (strong, Kent notices) hand.

“Is okay!” Tater says. “Not everyday beautiful man falls on me!” Then the smile grows slightly self-conscious as he lets go of Kent like he’s been burned. “I–ah–I’m not meaning–I’m sorry if–teammates say I’m say what’s on mind always, should stop–”

Keep reading


Queen Maxima’s foreign visits → Myanmar, 2015

One of Queen Maxima’s key roles over the years has been her position as a UN Special Advocate for Inclusive Finance for Development. Her experience in banking and her passion for finance has made her an incredible asset and she jumped at the chance to address Myanmar’s over burdened economy. The nation- formerly known as Burma- had experienced years of international isolation and conflict which had put a strain on its financial systems and Maxima was visiting to learn more about their challenges. On her first day she took part in a lengthy series of discussions with experts from across the sector, including banks, microfinance providers, and telecom companies. Later in the trip she gave a rousing speech at a university addressing the importance of accessible financing and visited local entrepreneurs on the ground who have received vital microfinancing loans. The cities have seen a huge number of migrants which has placed a strain on their banks and Maxima was keen to learn all about their experiences. On her final day she returned to high level diplomacy when she met with the President before taking part in the crowning glory of the trip, the launch of the Financial Inclusion Roadmap. This was designed to set a clear plan to modernise Myanmar’s financial sector, showing the promising developments the struggling nation had in mind for its future. 


I know that many of you made miracles happen to get to this day. I know that parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles and family behind you made miracles happen to be here. I know because my family made miracles happen for me to be standing here talking to you, telling stories. Your stories are essential. (x)

Lin-Manuel Miranda delivers the University of Pennsylvania commencement address
May 16, 2016