the fact that straight men are out there taking pride in not going down on their girlfriends/wives………y’all just admitting you’re bad in bed huh wow shocker
i keep thinking about this like!!! imagine standing on a soap box and screaming “IM BAD IN BED!!!! JUST LIKE!!!!! A REAL LOUSY LAY!!!! SELFISH AND TERRIBLE AND BAAAAAAAAAAD IN BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED!!!!!!!!!!” the mind boggles truly
i really want to normalise the idea amongst lgbt youth that its okay to switch labels as you further understand your identity. you’re not a traitor or a fake if you realise you’re bi instead of a lesbian, or if you’re a trans woman instead of a gay man. it’s really difficult and scary to be lgbt and it’s doubly hard to deal with a shifting identity amongst all that so… be kind to yourself. you’re learning and figuring yourself out and nothing is set in stone. let yourself figure out what feels most comfortable to you. and for those who are secure in their lgbt identities, particularly adults, don’t make kids feel bad for switching between labels. we’ve all had identity crises in our lives, so provide support and understanding rather than unforgiving attitudes.
this post is not an excuse to jump on the “of course you can’t label yourself at a young age” bandwagon either. young people who stick with and feel comfortable in an identity from an early age are just as valid as you are.
Additionally, on the other side of this – if you know someone who switches labels, it’s also your job to not make them feel like a traitor or a fake. If you’re their friend or you say you support them, then be their friend and support them. If you don’t understand how they could say they were one thing however long ago and now it’s something different, this is your chance to learn, not reject.
And if they later choose to go back to their original label, then they still weren’t faking it. Those were the feelings they had at the time.
i’ve said it once and i’ll say it again. queer people need to trust other queer people.
don’t question someone else’s labels. TRUST that they’ve done that already. if they ask you for advice, fine, but DO NOT go in swinging. don’t go up to a straight trans man and ask why he doesn’t identify as a lesbian. don’t talk to non-binary people and tell them that their identity is a sham if they don’t transition. don’t ask bi people when they’re going to pick a side. don’t assume that someone who is ace is just repulsed by their own internalized homophobia.
like just… have respect for your fellow lgbtq+ folks because there are so few of us in an OCEAN of hetero-cisnormativity. we don’t have to chip away at each other until only the Cardinal Few remain. there is no reason that we can’t have space for the people who question, the people who change their minds, the people who dip a toe in and pull back out. i am HERE for those people, just as much as i am HERE for the people who can write a dissertation on their attraction and knew from the moment they were born that they were Hella Gay.
there is nothing simple about self-discovery and frankly, i’m not here on this earth long enough to scrutinize my fellow marginalized peoples. there’s no reason to do that shit. it does not, in fact, hurt queer people to be wholly accepting of any wayward identity. non-dysphoric? demi-gray-ace as hell? don’t care, as long as you’re fighting on my side, because i’m fighting on yours.
I forget sometimes that
I’m allowed to feel sad for Jews. The discourse in the School of Social
Work around anti-Semitism has dwindled in large part due to the
hyperbolic conflation of Jewishness with whiteness. I am therefore quick
to forget that Columbia often fails to treat anti-Semitism with the legitimacy it deserves. My mom’s simple acknowledgement allowing me to feel Jewish pain reminded me that it was ok to feel so deeply.
My
experience in the Columbia School of Social Work has often made me feel
hollow. It can seem like I have no role as a Jew in both the course
curriculum and in class discussions. “How Jews Became White Folks” is my
school’s single mandatory reading regarding Jewish people in
contemporary society. And, even though this piece takes a dive into
important assimilation markers of the American Jew, this is only a
20-page reading shoved in among the several books and 40 articles that
make up our curriculum. In discussions, fellow classmates have confessed
that they have become frustrated when Jewish people speak up about
their experiences. On one occasion, I tried to explain to a close peer
how my Jewishness guides my social justice work and she told me that I
needed to stop talking, since my white privilege dominated any authentic
form of solidarity I could claim as a Jewish person. During my time at
Columbia, I often wonder if I truly belong at the School of Social Work.
Why
do my peers dismiss my Jewish identity due to my white skin? Why do I
feel so disingenuous for being Jewish in social justice work?
This
message from my peers, that Jews are white, isolates the Jewish people
from the broader cultural context. It creates an assumption that renders
the dialogue around anti-Semitism obsolete and minimizes the Jewish
experience. Not only is this generalization detrimental to understanding
the nuances and diversity of Jewish identity, but it also inhibits an
honest conversation about the ways being Jewish has been contextualized
in discourses of race, ethnicity, and culture. Frankly, perceiving
Jewishness as a mere form of whiteness or as just a religion is
ignorant. Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel knew this, and cautioned us
against these toxic and reductive comparisons when he said, “No human
race is superior; no religious faith is inferior. All collective
judgments are wrong. Only racists make them.”
Intersectionality—the
interrelation between race, class, and gender—is a central theme in our
curriculum that promotes a solidarity-driven approach to social
justice. Unfortunately, it seems that this ideology is not being taught
to address issues pertaining to anti-Semitism. Social workers are often
so concerned about abiding by these pre-established intersectionality
guidelines that they unintentionally perpetuate the very kinds of
discrimination that they supposedly oppose. Thus, Jewish students
whisper to each other in the secrecy of dimly lit dive bars about our
shared experiences of anti-Semitism, but we don’t risk speaking out in
class. An intersectionality gap exists between engaging in discussions
of anti-Semitism and those pertaining to other forms of racism. Rather
than avoiding discussions of anti-Semitism, we must break the silence by
discussing solidarity.
On Thanksgiving Day, a police officer shot and killed EJ Bradford during a mall shooting in Alabama. The police initially claimed that Bradford was the gunman, but later admitted the officer had likely shot the wrong man.
istg, there’s a generation of up-and-coming cartoon creators who are gonna draw all their inspiration from White House Xmas decorations anytime they need a supervillain lair.
ForLoveFromFear 