To L - A Series: Love Notes To My Women Of Color (17/30)

To Lorena
(A Series: Love Notes To My Women of Color)

To Lorena,
that time that Shari kept trying
to make you pronounce her name “right”,
when her tongue can’t manage to drag itself up
to caress your R and instead slashes through
each syllable, like it’s her home.
                        And you said, “Please. Just stop.”
                        She leapt back like you slapped her.

I love you, right now, in this moment. You make
our workplace,
                        where micro-aggressions live with
                        white pseudo-liberals who teach brown people how
                        to chomp their syllables and swallow their rage,
Survivable.

Deer’s commute (13/30)

This earth city stretches
Far above and beyond
Tapering at the top
And abruptly ends before we meet the hereafter

Edging up rock ladders
Hugging their rungs

Fish bars course through
The city, steps along each side
In this hushed glow
My ears are brushed by drip-drops and crackles

We get through / For the catch (16/30)

I’m fine, and you?
I’d like some toast.
I’m trying to exercise more.
I love my job.
I hate my job.
I’m too lazy.
I need a drink.
No gifts, please.
I’m bored.
Every Thing Is Going To Be Okay.

A third pillar of white supremacy is the logic of Orientalism. Orientalism was defined by Edward Said as the process of the West defining itself as a superior civilization by constructing itself in opposition to an “exotic” but inferior “Orient.” (Here I am using the term “Orientalism” more broadly than to solely signify what has been historically named as the Orient or Asia.) The logic of Orientalism marks certain peoples or nations as inferior and as posing a constant threat to the well-being of empire. These peoples are seen as “civilizations”—they are not property or “disappeared”—however, they will always be imaged as permanent foreign threats to empire. This logic is evident in the anti-immigration movements within the United States to target immigrants of color. it does not matter how long immigrants of color reside in the United States, they generally become targeted as foreign threats, particularly during war time. Consequently, orientalism serves as the anchor for war, because it allows the United States to justify being in a constant state of war to protect itself from its enemies.
For example, the United States feels entitled to used Orientalist logic to justify racial profiling of Arab Americans so that it can be strong enough to fight the “war on terror.” Orientalism also allows the United States to defend the logics of slavery and genocide, as these practices enable the United States to stay “strong enough” to fight these constant wars. What becomes clear then is that Sora Han states—the United States is not at war; the United States is war. For the system of white supremacy to stay in place, the United States must always be at war.
Because we are situated within different logics of white supremacy, we may misunderstand a racial dynamic if we simplistically try to explain one logic for white supremacy with another logic. For instance, think about the first scenario that opens this essay: if we simply dismiss Latino/as or Arab peoples as “white,” we fail to understand how a racial logic of Orientalism is in operation. That is, Latino/as and Arabs are often situated in a racial hierarchy that privileges them over Black people. However, while Orientalist logic may bestow them some racial privilege, they are still cast as inferior yet threatening “civilizations” in the United States. Their privilege is not a signal that they will be assimilated, but that they will be marked as perpetual foreign threats to the US world order.

Andrea Smith on Orientalism/War as 1 of 3 pillars of white supremacy

taken from Color of Violence: the INCITE! Anthology

chapter 6: heteropatriarchy and the three pillars of white supremacy, rethinking women of color organizing

(via tranqualizer)

(via the-uncensored-she)

(via onehapa)

Stairs (11/30)

A flight of anger is:                             

                          A construction
                              designed to bridge
                              a large vertical distance
                                  by dividing it into smaller
                                  vertical distances, called steps.

                          Said to be “floating”
                              if there is nothing
                      underneath.

                          Can take a large
                              number of forms,
                                  combining winders

                          and landings.

(via onehapa)

This is not an invitation (10/30)

For straight women to appropriate femme flags because they’re cute

For white people to make the issue about their experience

For white SAIC students to invade my home because it’s pretty

To speak my name,
     Learn and steal my codes.

This is not for you.

Conversations with Phil (12/30)

He said,
    “You use silence
    Well.”

I said,
Preparing myself to critique,
    “What do you
    Mean?”

    “When you ask
    A question,
    You give them
    Time to think before answering,”
He replied.

And I said,
    “Silence comes so
    Easily to me,”

    “It is questioning
    That I’ve been
    Forced to learn.”

    “Nobody can hear me
    Speaking
    When I am
    Silent.”

I have come to believe over and over again that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood. — (via fuckyeahaudrelordequotes)

Audre Lorde

spockhetti:

wo-nderland:

Once u mess up liquid eyeliner there is no going back

image

(via strugglingtobeheard)

90s90s90s:

Jackie Chan

90s90s90s:

Jackie Chan

(via billnihilist)


muslim heroines of the marvel universe: sooraya qadir, faiza hussain, monet st. croix, monica chang, kamala khan

muslim heroines of the marvel universe: sooraya qadir, faiza hussain, monet st. croix, monica chang, kamala khan

(via the-uncensored-she)

notyourexrotic:

thepostmodernpottercompendium:

Do you speak Indian?
It is the first sentence she learns to dread; dreads the sheer ignorance dripping from it, the willful blindness that accompanies this question, the way it makes her feel like a tiger in a cage being asked to perform a trick.
(The next question always is, oh can you teach me how to say something?)
She wishes she could answer by sticking her tongue out (or maybe, sticking two fingers in the air, that should shock them all right), but whenever she tries, her mum pulls her aside and tells her not to make faces, be polite. She cannot understand why she needs to be polite, it’s not as though they’re making efforts to be polite. 
Her twin only pinches her and shakes her head at her. Just do it, for mum. Be brave.
So when she puts the Sorting Hat on her head she makes a simple wish: send me where they will understand. Send me where they know.
The Sorting Hat gravely commiserates and tells her Ravenclaw would be the best place for her.
She wonders, for the first few months, if the Hat got it all wrong, if the Hat wasn’t just as bad as the rest of them - sticking her with kids just like her, the ones who stick their noses in books all the time, fond of learning, fond of knowing. Overachieving minorities, she’ll call them, self-deprecatingly, in years to come.
But then at Christmas, when she goes home, she realizes that in all these months she’s never once heard it. Do you speak Indian? Do you speak Hindu? 
Not once has she heard them say that word, in a voice dripping with contempt and hatred. Paki.(But I’m not from Pakistan!)
And she finds she does not miss hearing these things.
People look at her and Parvati and wonder how they could have landed up in two very different houses. They are not so very different, to the distant observer at least. They giggle over boys, they play dress up every now and then, sigh happily over elaborate robes in Witch Weekly. Not different at all. 
Padma only shakes her head and smiles at people when they ask her how she and Parvati came to be sorted so differently. It’s in how we solve problems, she says and leaves it at that. They don’t need to know, after all.
If they wanted to know, they could simply observe and learn.
(For notyourexrotic who wanted to hear more about the Patil twins and why they were sorted into two different houses.)

Aww thank you! I see the seed of an idea here, and would love to see more (especially about the “solving problems” bit. Maybe this scene from Parvati’s POV?
Why those two were in different houses was something I really, really wished JKR would have gotten into more. Hermione makes a comment about it in GOF and I was hoping it’d be a plot point but it never gets talked about again.

notyourexrotic:

thepostmodernpottercompendium:

Do you speak Indian?

It is the first sentence she learns to dread; dreads the sheer ignorance dripping from it, the willful blindness that accompanies this question, the way it makes her feel like a tiger in a cage being asked to perform a trick.

(The next question always is, oh can you teach me how to say something?)

She wishes she could answer by sticking her tongue out (or maybe, sticking two fingers in the air, that should shock them all right), but whenever she tries, her mum pulls her aside and tells her not to make faces, be polite. She cannot understand why she needs to be polite, it’s not as though they’re making efforts to be polite. 

Her twin only pinches her and shakes her head at her. Just do it, for mum. Be brave.

So when she puts the Sorting Hat on her head she makes a simple wish: send me where they will understand. Send me where they know.

The Sorting Hat gravely commiserates and tells her Ravenclaw would be the best place for her.

She wonders, for the first few months, if the Hat got it all wrong, if the Hat wasn’t just as bad as the rest of them - sticking her with kids just like her, the ones who stick their noses in books all the time, fond of learning, fond of knowingOverachieving minorities, she’ll call them, self-deprecatingly, in years to come.

But then at Christmas, when she goes home, she realizes that in all these months she’s never once heard it. Do you speak Indian? Do you speak Hindu? 

Not once has she heard them say that word, in a voice dripping with contempt and hatred. Paki.(But I’m not from Pakistan!)

And she finds she does not miss hearing these things.

People look at her and Parvati and wonder how they could have landed up in two very different houses. They are not so very different, to the distant observer at least. They giggle over boys, they play dress up every now and then, sigh happily over elaborate robes in Witch Weekly. Not different at all. 

Padma only shakes her head and smiles at people when they ask her how she and Parvati came to be sorted so differently. It’s in how we solve problems, she says and leaves it at that. They don’t need to know, after all.

If they wanted to know, they could simply observe and learn.

(For notyourexrotic who wanted to hear more about the Patil twins and why they were sorted into two different houses.)

Aww thank you! I see the seed of an idea here, and would love to see more (especially about the “solving problems” bit. Maybe this scene from Parvati’s POV?

Why those two were in different houses was something I really, really wished JKR would have gotten into more. Hermione makes a comment about it in GOF and I was hoping it’d be a plot point but it never gets talked about again.