my cute hairstyle lasted all but 2 or 3 days. why? because the world hates women and femme folks and it’s pathetic and fucked up that i feel safer, more confident and more secure when i present more masculine even though i do not feel or desire to be masculine. i literally ended up feeling like my 12 year old self who was insecure, felt unsafe and for the first time in a long time felt genuinely ugly.
it goes without my saying that this is the shit that our society does to girls and women. this is the shit that continues to solidify for me that i once identified as a trans man to be closer to both whiteness and masculinity because i could not deal with unpacking my internalized racism or sexism.
i shaved off all of my hair and i’m starting over and am trying really hard to remind myself of how important it is to create my own space in this world because it does not exist without my doing.
i feel a little defeated right now and am trying to ground myself somewhere.
i’ve been so “fuck masculinity” lately and this just makes me even more skeptical and uninterested in any sort of recreating masculinity because fuck masculinity
one of my eyes is higher than the other, i just noticed that the other night. bodies are weird.
neoliberalism is disappearing queerness and that makes me sad
bike marshaled for a youth led and organized march to #endthepipeline “money for jobs and education, not for war and incarceration”
At a deposition, Ferguson’s former police chief revealed that his staff did not keep records of incidents in which officers used force against citizens, so long as no one died; in other words, there was no way of telling how often incidents like Davis’ happened.
remember shit like this when they talk about how mike brown’s shooter had no disciplinary record
operation ghetto storm also talks a bit about how most police forces across the country do not have a database for logging and tracking their cops’ extrajudicial killings of black folks.
i would just like to say that it’s extremely annoying to read shit from non-black people of color like “oh i’m obviously more intelligent than you because i know 4 languages so you need to stop talking shit because i don’t speak english blah blah blah blah”
right, we should be and have every right to be upset about white people who want it to be that english is the national and official language of the u.s and make it harder for non-english speaking folks to get access to anything
and/but also, given the amount of horizontal racism/anti-blackness there is amongst people of color who navigate layers and layers of code switching, language injustices, policing etc, we don’t really have time or room or need to rely on a white supremacist matrix of intelligence in order to justify why we are expected to speak only english and not have accents.
i just feel like we have bigger shit to worry about than calling people less intelligent because they don’t speak more than “just” english. that argument ends up reinforcing shit where like if a white person were to go learn 50 languages and then feel like that justifies their appropriation of cultures of color; supports shit like anti-blackness in which black folks who also speak AAVE seem “dumb” and uneducated because AAVE isn’t seen as a legitimate language, and plus, if you’re a person of color and you don’t speak more than just english, you’re seen as foreign anyways, so what’s the point of trying to rely on an argument that expects us to be a certain way?
we need to be focused on talking about language justice that gives validity to AAVE, doesn’t demand that we need to justify our accents, our refusal to learn english, our “misuse” of english in order to live our fucking lives
mourning in 2 different cultures is interesting
americans say “i’m sorry for your loss” and all my viet fam have been saying “i’m sharing your sadness”
i’m also tired of being sad
pretty sure my gender is just power bottom
you really lose someone thinking you had more time than you actually did.
my grandma passed away yesterday and, exactly 6 months from the last time we were able to talk on the phone since she lived in viet nam and was a nun and traveled all the time doing things with her temple. on the phone I told her in 3 years I would be able to go home to see her and she told me she didn’t know if she had that long. I asked her to try and she said she would, try to wait for me.
so yeah, I had hope for more time and now I’m mourning her and my hope for more time.
I am sad and angry and frustrated and feeling fucked over by borders and class and migration and distance.
I don’t know when my mom will be able to go home, she still hasn’t been able to visit her dad’s grave since his death.
right now I don’t feel the magic or hopefulness of being an immigrant trying to bend distance or stretch time to juggle this place and that place.
they had my grandma’s service at the temple this morning. my cousin shared a photo of her alter on Facebook. she looks exactly like I remember. and if anything, we’ll have a recording of her service like we did of our grandpa’s in a month’s time