once again!
Saturday July 24th
from 7-11pm
@ They Won’t Find Us Here gallery
3500 Bryant Ave S (alleyside)
theywontfindushere.coman art show of weavings made in a class through the Experimental College of the Twin Cities — with works by some of my friends.
un sitio web sobre anarquismo mundial
(via redguard)
Here’s what you do:
1. Click the Link
2. Lol at their stupidity and bigotry
3. Go to the bottom of the left hand side column, see where it says report?
4. Click it and report it as racist/hate speech
No free speech for fascists.
When asked to a white person, this question is met with confusion. But for me, it’s an inquiry about my race. No one had to tell me, even as a child, that “What are you?” meant “What race are you?” I just knew. My answer used to be, “I’m mixed,” which would raise other questions about what I was mixed with and how much of it. “Mixed” was never a good enough answer.
[…]
Perhaps it’s because I don’t have that stereotypical “black girl attitude.” Maybe it’s because I don’t wear Jordans and say the N-word. Or maybe it’s because I have light skin. Whether it be a combination of every reason or just one, the message is clear: I’m not allowed to be black without a white person’s permission.
A bit of an interesting read.
I got a bit of this when I was younger. People would assume one of my parents were Asian, and when I would say, “No. Native American.” To which they’d reply, “OH. Well…. You look Asian.”
Perhaps if I’d worn a hipster headdress and some faux-buckskin in some backwards comical racial drag, they’d have believed me?
reblogged for last comment lolz
I still get this Allll the time. Funny thing is no one is generally interested in where my “white” heritage comes from. If I say mixed, people ask with what. “I’m native american, black, and white” that generally isn’t good enough either so I have to go into an in depth explanation.
It’s not uncommon for random strangers to ask my “what am I” too. strange.
(via killsociety)
Forever.
