Hey All I Made A Poll Expanding Other To Add Rogue One And Andor Characters Go Vote In That One. After

Being A Girl: A Brief Personal History of Violence

1.

I am six. My babysitter’s son, who is five but a whole head taller than me, likes to show me his penis. He does it when his mother isn’t looking. One time when I tell him not to, he holds me down and puts penis on my arm. I bite his shoulder, hard. He starts crying, pulls up his pants and runs upstairs to tell his mother that I bit him. I’m too embarrassed to tell anyone about the penis part, so they all just think I bit him for no reason.

I get in trouble first at the babysitter’s house, then later at home.

The next time the babysitter’s son tries to show me his penis, I don’t fight back because I don’t want to get in trouble.

One day I tell the babysitter what her son does, she tells me that he’s just a little boy, he doesn’t know any better. I can tell that she’s angry at me, and I don’t know why. Later that day, when my mother comes to pick me up, the babysitter hugs me too hard and says how jealous she is because she only has sons and she wishes she had a daughter as sweet as me.

One day when we’re playing in the backyard he tells me very seriously that he might kill me one day and I believe him.

2.

I am in the second grade and our classroom has a weird open-concept thing going on, and the fourth wall is actually the hallway to the gym. All day long, we surreptitiously watch the other grades file past on the way to and from the gym. We are supposed to ignore most of them. The only class we are not supposed to ignore is Monsieur Pierre’s grade six class.

Every time Monsieur Pierre walks by, we are supposed to chorus “Bonjour, Monsieur Sexiste.” We are instructed to do this by our impossibly beautiful teacher, Madame Lemieux. She tells us that Monsieur Pierre, a dapper man with grey hair and a moustache, is sexist because he won’t let the girls in his class play hockey. She is the first person I have ever heard use the word sexist.

The word sounds very serious when she says it. She looks around the class to make sure everyone is paying attention and her voice gets intense and sort of tight.

“Girls can play hockey. Girls can do anything that boys do,” she tells us.

We don’t really believe her. For one thing, girls don’t play hockey. Everyone in the NHL – including our hero Mario Lemieux, who we sometimes whisper might be our teacher’s brother or cousin or even husband – is a boy. But we accept that maybe sixth grade girls can play hockey in gym class, so we do what she asks.

Mostly what I remember is the smile that spreads across Monsieur Pierre’s face whenever we call him a sexist. It is not the smile of someone who is ashamed; it is the smile of someone who finds us adorable in our outrage.

3.

Later that same year a man walks into Montreal’s École Polytechnique and kills fourteen women. He kills them because he hates feminists. He kills them because they are going to be engineers, because they go to school, because they take up space. He kills them because he thinks they have stolen something that is rightfully his. He kills them because they are women.

Everything about the day is grey: the sky, the rain, the street, the concrete side of the École Polytechnique, the pictures of the fourteen girls that they print in the newspaper. My mother’s face is grey. It’s winter, and the air tastes like water drunk from a tin cup.

Madame Lemieux doesn’t tell us to call Monsieur Pierre a sexist anymore. Maybe he lets the girls play hockey now. Or maybe she is afraid.

Girls can do anything that boys do but it turns out that sometimes they get killed for it.

4.

I am fourteen and my classmate’s mother is killed by her boyfriend. He stabs her to death. In the newspaper they call it a crime of passion. When she comes back to school, she doesn’t talk about it. When she does mention her mother it’s always in the present tense – “my mom says” or “my mom thinks” – as if she is still alive. She transfers schools the next year because her father lives across town in a different school district.

Passion. As if murder is the same thing as spreading rose petals on your bed or eating dinner by candlelight or kissing through the credits of a movie.

5.

Men start to say things to me on the street, sometimes loudly enough that everyone around us can hear, but not always. Sometimes they mutter quietly, so that I’m the only one who knows. So that if I react, I’ll seem like I’m blowing things out of proportion or flat-out making them up. These whispers make me feel complicit in something, although I don’t quite know what.

I feel like I deserve it. I feel like I am asking for it. I feel dirty and ashamed.

I want to stand up for myself and tell these men off, but I am afraid. I am angry that I’m such a baby about it. I feel like if I were braver, they wouldn’t be able to get away with it. Eventually I screw up enough courage and tell a man to leave me alone; I deliberately keep my voice steady and unemotional, trying to make it sound more like a command than a request. He grabs my wrist and calls me a fucking bitch.

After that I don’t talk back anymore. Instead I just smile weakly; sometimes I duck my head and whisper thank you. I quicken my steps and hurry away until one time a man yells don’t you fucking run away and starts to follow me.

After that I always try to keep my pace even, my breath slow. Like how they tell you that if you ever see a bear you shouldn’t run, you should just slowly back away until he can’t see you.

I think that these men, like dogs, can smell my fear.

6.

On my eighteenth birthday my cousin takes me out clubbing. While we’re dancing, a man comes up behind me and starts fiddling with the straps on my flouncy black dress. But he’s sort of dancing with me and this is my first time ever at a club and I want to play it cool, so I don’t say anything. Then he pulls the straps all the way down and everyone laughs as I scramble to cover my chest.

At a concert a man comes up behind me and slides his hand around me and starts playing with my nipple while he kisses my neck. By the time I’ve got enough wiggle room to turn around, he’s gone.

At my friend’s birthday party a gay man grabs my breasts and tells everyone that he’s allowed to do it because he’s not into girls. I laugh because everyone else laughs because what else are you supposed to do?

Men press up against me on the subway, on the bus, once even in a crowd at a protest. Their hands dangle casually, sometimes brushing up against my crotch or my ass. One time it’s so bad that I complain to the bus driver and he makes the man get off the bus but then he tells me that if I don’t like the attention maybe I shouldn’t wear such short skirts.

7.

I get a job as a patient-sitter, someone who sits with hospital patients who are in danger of pulling out their IVs or hurting themselves or even running away. The shifts are twelve hours and there is no real training, but the pay is good.

Lots of male patients masturbate in front of me. Some of them are obvious, which is actually kind of better because then I can call a nurse. Some of them are less obvious, and then the nurses don’t really care. When that happens, I just bury my head in a book and pretend I don’t know what they’re doing.

One time an elderly man asks me to fix his pillow and when I bend over him to do that he grabs my hand and puts it on his dick.

When I call my supervisor to complain she says that I shouldn’t be upset because he didn’t know what he was doing.

8.

A man walks into an Amish school, tells all the little girls to line up against the chalkboard, and starts shooting.

A man walks into a sorority house and starts shooting.

A man walks into a theatre because the movie was written by a feminist and starts shooting.

A man walks into Planned Parenthood and starts shooting.

A man walks into.

9.

I start writing about feminism on the internet, and within a few months I start getting angry comments from men. Not death threats, exactly, but still scary. Scary because of how huge and real their rage is. Scary because they swear they don’t hate women, they just think women like me need to be put in their place.

I get to a point where the comments – and even the occasional violent threat – become routine. I joke about them. I think of them as a strange badge of honour, like I’m in some kind of club. The club for women who get threats from men.

It’s not really funny.

10.

Someone makes a death threat against my son.

I don’t tell anyone right away because I feel like it is my fault – my fault for being too loud, too outspoken, too obviously a parent.

When I do finally start telling people, most of them are sympathetic. But a few women say stuff like “this is why I don’t share anything about my children online,” or “this is why I don’t post any pictures of my child.”

Even when a man makes a choice to threaten a small child it is still, somehow, a woman’s fault.

11.

I try not to be afraid.

I am still afraid.

- By Anne Thériault

rebloging this for educational reasons.

Not diagnosing a child doesn't mean they won't notice they're different. It just means that instead of thinking "I'm struggling because I have autism/adhd/anxiety/depression/schizophrenia", they will just conclude that they are struggling because they are stupid, weak, annoying, unlovable, etc.

Voltron season 7 review

Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!! IT WAS AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The Paladins have finally returned to Earth, the Galra are not as big as a threat as they once were and everyone has reunited with their loved ones!!!! Well, almost everyone... I was seriously not expecting Adam to die before Shiro came back to Earth. I was expecting a confrontation between the town ex lovers but now that’s not going to happen...😥 On a happier note, the Holt, McClain and Garett families are back together and it was beautiful .💚💙❤️💛 Everything seems to be going nice and smooth, but I personally believe that Lotor and Haggar are behind that new weapon that had the Altaian.

Now I would appreciate a fic where Anakin Skywalker just kills Palpatine on accident. I was watching revenge of the sith and through the whole sequence of Obi-wan and Anakin saving Palpatine from the ship I was thinking: “Anakin is waving his damn sabre EVERYWHERE it’s a miracle he hasn’t hit something on accident” and then bam: idea.

In Anakin’s defence there’s a LOT going on so like it’s not his FAULT that he wasn’t looking where he was slicing and the next thing he knows Palpatine’s head is no longer on his shoulders but rolling down some flight of stairs and Anakin just sort of,, pees himself a little.

“Oh. Shit.”

A whole mile away Mace Windu is sitting in his quarters and suddenly the migraine in the back of his head disappears and he’s like “whoa.” And then jokingly is like “who had to be sacrificed for that damn ache to finally go away.” Turns out!

Obi-wan, through a holo-call, (with Anakin skywalker furiously sobbing and heaving through snot and coughs in the background): hey so, we should look into getting Skywalker some ADHD medication.

The Jedi council: why? What has happened?

Obi-Wan: just a little loss of focus, it happens to the best of us.

One crazy theory I have about Carmen’s parents are that her mother *cough*CookieBroker*cough* is the original Carmen Sandiego, nothing new, I know, and her dad, Dexter Wolfe, is Waldo. He took the chance to completely change his name when he joined VILE and ditched his red outfit for something that would actually blend in. What are your thoughts?

CARMEN SANDIEGO Q&A! :D

I LOVE Fandom Q&A’s!, but I haven’t found any for this one!, so I’ve decided to make my own! X’D

So let’s discuss some Carmen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ^^

Send Me An Ask About Head-Canons/Fandom-Theories/Ships (Anything Related To The Series, Really!), I’ll Answer As Best As I Can With Personal Opinions/Theories!.

(Please talk to me, I’m so lonely!) X’D

Modern Historicals AU: Samantha “Sam” Parkington

At first glance, she appears to be a girly girl- always wearing pink shirts and fancy jewelry. However, she tends to take part in more masculine activities- she’s the school’s star baseball player, and she’s actually quite good at archery.

She can (and probably has) beat up every bully in school, especially if they pick on her Nellie. Eddie Ryland has been punched in the face about a million times.

Every time Agnes and Agatha get together with her, Nel has to sit somewhere to collect her blood pressure, as inevitably they’ll set something on fire, usually on purpose.

She’s planning to go to Law School to defend those who normally couldn’t afford a lawyer. She and the O’Malley sisters have blasted the Legally Blonde soundtrack about a million times in preparation. 

Okay, so y'all know the phenomenon where American media companies say they can't produce queer stories because they'll just get censored in foreign markets? It's transparent as hell, because the dominant culture of the United States is still violently queerphobic, and in many cases, state queerphobia in other countries is the direct result of Christian imperialism. The US is not the enlightened gay haven in a world of evil homophobic foreigners, and trying to pretend that American media can't be too gay because it'll be censored overseas is asinine. We all know that, right?

Anyway, today I learned that there is an episode of the Australian cartoon Bluey that has been censored in the United States because it shows the dad character pretending to be pregnant and have a baby as part of a game of pretend. Disney refuses to air it on the Disney Channel or on Disney+. It has been made available on YouTube by the Australian rights holders.

So let's quit fucking pretending that Disney is actually scared of foreign censors, hm? The queerphobic censorship is coming from inside the House of Mouse, and it always has been.

Yall sleeping on this Sam L. Jackson interview about trump lmfao.

finally finished my Padme costume database! Now has concept art, deleted scenes, behind the scenes photos, exhibition pics, promo pics and all of her animated TCW outfits! there are over 150 slides of refs in total <3

LINK and a sneaky peek below

Thank you so so so much for saying this!!! It means so much to people who are both religious and lgbtqa 🏳️‍🌈. This is just what what so many people, either lgbt or religious, need to desperately hear. To know that it is okay and that loving the same gender does not mean you don’t love God or that God doesn’t love you. This is perfect.

A sign

If you’re lgbtq+ and not wanting to be rejected by your religion/faith this is your sign. I’m not the first to say this but I have a deep need to say this publicly. But as someone with unwavering faith in God, it pains me so deep inside that lgbtq+ people are rejected by their religions and families on a religious basis. I don’t care if you don’t have any faith rn but I know that the things I’ve had to go through as a Black &Mexican bisexual woman in this world, God didn’t make it just easier but my faith brought peace in my life and in a world like this people need peace inside. A lot of lgbtq+ people are turned off by the idea of having a religion. (Having a faith and being hardcore religious aren’t the same thing) but I just want to say that being lgbtq+ and bringing love and acceptance into other people’s lives means your already a better follower of God than any super religious person that teaches hate. God is Love in many many faiths and that’s all that matters. You’re not a sinner. You’re not a disgrace. You’re a beautiful human who’s here to love any and everybody. Stand tall and stay proud!