Another fantastic thing about working at GameStop is the sexism. If you are a man, the competition is fierce for jobs. If you are a girl,...”
i’ve discussed uses of the “N-word” and my position on it here in this post
my position at that time versus now has not changed, but my...
The racial politics of the Boston situation are really personally resonant to me as an American person of Eastern European/Central Asian background whose family are fairly recent immigrants (I’m third generation).
I most definitely read white, as the bombers did/do. I have all those privileges. I am the gateway to Other, my foreign family invisible/unmentioned until racist points need to be made about other more visible Asians, other Others, brown and Black folks. Then my body, my features, my family, my culture come under inspection. I become Other only when it’s ‘useful’. Otherwise other white people are happy to regard me as white too.
So I see what is happening here - these bombers’ foreignness becomes a proxy map: they are understandable to racists only when they become a map to people darker than them, to Muslims everywhere. As white people they are not deemed ‘understandable’ as violent terrorists, even though we have a long history in this country of white (non-foreign) terrorist bombings.
Flexible whiteness. It’s where I live. It’s horrifying to watch operate, even as I myself even as Other am shielded by white privilege.
Once upon a time, I decided that it was my solemn obligation to prank my friends before we graduated.
So…I made Hogwarts Acceptance letters. A lot of them. Because who isn’t still waiting for their freaking letter to arrive?
My hand hated me so much. Also, cursive G is the worst.
Letters were posted. All was well.
Until this happened…
This is literally the best thing I have ever seen in my entire life.
There are days when I feel incredibly open to the world, and want to reach out to others. To say how much I respect them, admire them, how important they are. How they are changing me. And maybe say a little about myself. Share more of me, what remains hidden most of the time.
Most days though, I feel closed to the world. I read through everything on my dash, I bounce off posts to other places, do research and more reading, maybe like a post and reblog if I feel brave. But I feel closed, like I want to hide, protect myself. I’m afraid to reach out. Afraid of connecting. Sharing.
I type things out, then hit Cancel. Feels almost like I said something, but it went nowhere.
Like this post, I will probably delete it. I already want to delete it.
I wonder if anyone else feels this way.