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dweemeister · 26 days

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El Dorado (1966)

Pulp science fiction writer Leigh Brackett was an anomaly in the genre. Not only was she a woman, but she also crossed over into Hollywood sporadically. Alongside her novellas and serialized stories, her film credits are enviable: The Big Sleep (1946; okay, this film’s story never made sense, but its romantic dialogue is legendary), Rio Bravo (1959), and, posthumously, The Empire Strikes Back (1980). To Brackett, she deemed her script to 1966’s El Dorado, a loose adaptation of Harry Brown’s novel The Stars in Their Courses, as “the best script [she] had done in [her] life.” High praise for oneself, especially as one could easily interpret El Dorado as a lighter, slightly more comic version of Rio Bravo. El Dorado was Brackett’s fourth of five collaborations with director Howard Hawks (1938’s Bringing Up Baby; the four other Brackett-Hawks collaborations include The Big Sleep, 1948’s Red River, Rio Bravo, and 1970’s Rio Lobo). Brackett’s inventiveness and spiky dialogue makes even the more clichéd elements of the story more entertaining than they should be. Other than Hawks and the ensemble cast, it is Brackett who is most responsible for the film’s success.

Somewhere in the American West, cowboy Cole Thornton (John Wayne) rides into the town of El Dorado for a job offer from local landowner Bart Jason (Ed Asner). His longtime friend, Sheriff J.P. Harrah (Robert Mitchum) meets with him, quickly deduces the reason for Cole’s presence in town, and effortlessly persuades his friend to turn down the job (the mutual respect for each other – between the characters and between Mitchum and Wayne – is apparent from the moment they meet). Jason’s job for to Thornton included coercing, gently or otherwise, the MacDonald family to abandon their land and water rights. The MacDonalds are an honest family, Harrah says, and they have been the target of regular harassment from Bart Jason and his men. Over the rest of the film, Harrah, Thornton, elderly deputy Bull Harris (Arthur Hunnicutt), a youthful gunslinger named Mississippi (James Caan), and Dr. Miller (Paul Fix) find themselves further embroiled in Jason’s repeated attempts to violently force the MacDonalds out.

El Dorado’s large supporting cast also includes saloon owner Maudie (Charlene Holt, whose character has a hankering for Thornton); R.G. Armstrong, Christopher George, Johnny Crawford, and Adam Roarke as the MacDonald boys; and Michele Carey as the hot-tempered Josephine “Joey” MacDonald (Carey and Holt play two of the final examples of the “Hawksian woman”).

Comparisons to Rio Bravo are all but inevitable to cinephiles and fans of American Westerns. Where Rio Bravo is more of a movie where friends revel in each other’s’ vibes, El Dorado is squarely a story of aging cowboys whose foibles – Harrah’s alcoholism to drown his self-pity, Thornton’s first act spinal injury and free-roaming ways – may spell the difference between local tragedy and justice. Despite what she might say, Brackett’s script to Rio Bravo (co-written by Jules Furthman) is far tighter than El Dorado’s, which employs a momentum-killing six-month time skip just as its dramatic interest begins to pique (editor John Woodcock does not provide any assistance here). It takes just a tad too much time for El Dorado, which uses the time skip to introduce Mississippi and sideline Harrah due to his heavy drinking, to regain the dramatic interest it established in the opening third of the movie.

Both casts of Rio Bravo and El Dorado have advantages over the other. Rio Bravo boasts Walter Brennan and Ward Bond in supporting roles (yet I’ve never been too fond of Dean Martin’s performance). El Dorado has Mitchum (whose dynamic with Wayne is fantastic), Caan (miles better than a Ricky Nelson sticking out like a rock 'n' roll kid from the 1950s), and not enough Asner. The two films, to me, are similar in quality, and I vacillate between which is “better” (but, on a rewatch, I think I might prefer El Dorado)*.

The interplay between John Wayne and Robert Mitchum lies at the heart of El Dorado. In 2024, it remains fashionable to lambaste Wayne for not being able to act and “playing himself” – an accusation that has been around for decades. With more lightly comedic material than usual (I would not consider El Dorado a comedy, but there are good-hearted ribbings and wry situational observances that prevent this from being a pure dramatic Western), Wayne revives some of the comic timing from The Quiet Man (1952) to decent effect here, especially around Mitchum and Caan. But most compellingly, Howard Hawks directs Wayne in a way that acknowledges and plays against his on-screen persona as the accomplished Western hero. Thornton’s spinal injury in the film’s opening act sees him reckon with his mortality – in jest and in seriousness. Wayne’s delivery and his physical acting is striking to longtime viewers such as yours truly, as it is one of the first films in which Wayne must come to terms with aging and his growing fallibility, as well as his reputation for outgunning and outthinking his opponents. The seeds of what would be Wayne’s late career signature performances in The Cowboys (1972) and The Shootist (1976) begin to show themselves here.

Mitchum, perpetually sleepy-eyed and always my first choice to play a slovenly protagonist good with a revolver, is wonderful here as a sheriff with the romantic maturity of a teenager who unaccustomed to rejection. The duality of Mitchum’s Sheriff Harrah here – the fastest gun for miles around determined to uphold the law and the inebriated slob who retains a sense of humor that makes self-pitying and self-deprecation indistinguishable – is difficult to pull off, but Mitchum does exactly that. Mitchum and Wayne’s historical on-screen personas are not polar opposites, but there is nevertheless little overlap between the two aside for their marksmanship. In their only screen appearance together (the two both co-starred on 1962’s The Longest Day, but their scenes were filmed separately), it seems the two have known each other for ages. The subtle glances, the knowing facial expressions, and gentlemanly warmth in conversation bely the fact that this is their first film together. But for El Dorado, their rapport benefits the film magnificently.

Like his good friend Ernest Hemingway, Howard Hawks admired masculine competence, professionalism, and self-reliance. El Dorado rambles a little bit about duty, honor, and loyalty, but all of this surrounds the central tenants of male friendship found here and in Rio Bravo. It is the development of that friendship and simultaneous professional excellence, rather than any plot details, that concerns Hawks – and this is the frame through which he wants viewers to see this film. By his own self admission, Hawks stated that he was, “much more interested in the story of a friendship between two men” than anything else in El Dorado (including fidelity to the original novel). The range war between Jason and the MacDonald family lacks as much exposition as some might expect. Hawks and Brackett refuse to fully explain how the dispute started, as well as what the conflict has wrought during the film’s time skip.

Those who are not as competent or professional – in this film’s case, James Caan’s character of Mississippi – are simply comic relief until they can prove otherwise. For those aware of Hawks’ aversion to Fred Zinnemann’s High Noon (1952) – in which Gary Cooper’s Sheriff Will Kane spends almost ninety minutes going around town asking for help when he learns a few recently-released convicts are coming to murder him (Hawks, to my consternation, considered this cowardly and a disgrace to the Western genre) – El Dorado is yet another reaction against it.

Unlike Hemingway, Hawks (who was by no means a feminist) rejects Hemingway’s reductionist portrayals of women as “Dark” (submissive lovers) or “Light” (castrating man-killers). The female protagonists in Hawks’ films, too, demonstrate tremendous ability. The saloon keeper, Maudie, is perhaps the most keenly observant individual in the entire picture, and can pick out the psychology of a person whether she has known them for ages (such as our leads) or if they have just stumbled in for a drink. She may be the smartest person in town. Her fellow Hawksian Woman is the wild-haired Joey MacDonald (her hair feels at times like an anachronism airlifted from the 1960s, rather than a likelihood of the Old West), quick on a gun and with a quicker temper. There is not nearly enough attention on either character as previous Hawksian Women (nevertheless, we need to recall what Hawks wanted to concentrate on most here, and that’s male friendship), but what there is still improves El Dorado’s watchability aside from our two leads.

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A worthy score from composer Nelson Riddle (1960’s Ocean’s 11, 1962’s Lolita) dials back the main theme more than one might expect from a midcentury Western, but it is still effective music for this film. Riddle is best known as an arranger and orchestrator for the likes of Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, and Linda Ronstadt, not a composer. Nevertheless, arrangers and orchestrators can learn composition through osmosis if they have not already been trained in music composition. Riddle’s liberal use of harmonica perfectly captures the setting, although his use of electric guitar/bass and discernible lack of harmonic identity (especially in the strings) feels too much like television scoring from this era – Riddle was the principal composer for the 1960s Batman television series starring Adam West. Instead, the score highlights revolve around uses of the main title song and its variations.

And what about that title song? Sung by George Alexander and the Mellomen, with lyrics by John Gabriel (Dr. Seneca Beaulac on ABC’s soap opera Ryan’s Hope), “El Dorado” fits the film perfectly, and Alexander’s rich baritone musically exemplifies the masculine themes of El Dorado. Strings double underneath the vocals, with the occasional woodwind and brass section and peaking out from the melodic doubling (again, one wishes for more harmonic interest here aside from doubling the melody). A snippet of the song’s lyrics reference to Edgar Allan Poe’s poem “Eldorado”; the poem itself is recited by Mississippi. “El Dorado” is nothing but an earworm, and I just wish it (and its variations) made more appearances in the film itself.

Though Rio Bravo had elements of a changing of the guard, El Dorado cannot help but feel, by its conclusion, as a generational marker, a near-last hurrah – intentionally or otherwise. This is not, like The Wild Bunch (1969) or Unforgiven (1992), a eulogy of the Old American West. In 1966, El Dorado came at a time when the great figures of Old Hollywood and the height of the American Western’s popularity (Wayne and Mitchum) were no longer the dominant forces in American cinema. The film’s title song even opens with oil paintings from Western artist Olaf Weighorst, of evocatively overcast vistas of the West, as if in reflection.

El Dorado would be Leigh Brackett and Howard Hawks’ penultimate collaboration and penultimate Western, with Rio Lobo a few years away. Their professional partnership, so unlikely given Hawks’ status in Hollywood and Brackett’s supposedly disreputable day job as a pulp science fiction writer, is maybe one of the most underrated and undermentioned in Old Hollywood history – one that spanned the height of Golden Age Hollywood to its final years. For El Dorado, Brackett, despite a few structural missteps, once again shows her gifts for dialogue and a keen understanding of Hawks’ directorial intentions. Hawks arguably improves upon his depiction of male camaraderie from Rio Bravo, allowing our protagonists to intuit their aging (some might say obsolescence). This is a sterling Western, if slightly out of time.

My rating: 8.5/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog. Half-points are always rounded down.

* As of this write-up’s publication, I have not seen Rio Lobo (1970), which forms an unofficial trilogy of Westerns with Rio Bravo and El Dorado.

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog..

#El Dorado #Howard Hawks #John Wayne #Robert Mitchum #James Caan #Charlene Holt #Paul Fix #Arthur Hunnicutt #Michele Carey #Leigh Brackett #Ed Asner #R.G. Armstrong #Harold Rosson #John Woodcock #Nelson Riddle #Harry Brown #TCM #My Movie Odyssey

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moon-soo-ah · 2 months

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ISU World Championships 2024 World Championships Montreal / CAN

18.03.2024-24.03.2024

Mar. 20:

Pairs’ SP 12:00

Women’s SP 17:00

Mar. 21:

Men’s SP 11:10

Pairs’ FS 18:10

Mar. 22:

Rhythm Dance 11:20

Women’s FS 18:00

Mar. 23:

Free Dance 13:30

Men’s FS 18:00

Mar. 24:

Gala 14:00

Livestream:

主播花花

Skating ISU

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pulchritudinous-plants · 2 years

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flood

ever think about how willa has had multiple near drowning experiences, more than any other keeper except maybe finn, while having the biggest connection to water? this is unedited and unfinished, mostly to get my thoughts on paper. willa’s such an interesting character and i think she’s been wasted throughout canon

She’s grown up in the water. Cliched, yes, but true.

They don’t travel much when she’s little, especially by the time her youngest brother is born. Two teachers' salaries doesn’t account for much, especially not with five kids needing taken care of.

Besides, they live in Orlando and shell out an alarming amount of money every year for resident passes to Disney and Universal and Bush Gardens and the dozens of other theme parks that call Orlando home. What more could they really want to do?

And then her dad is paralyzed, and suddenly vacations don’t seem that important, anyway.

So she trudges down to the community pool, holding her older brother’s hand and then later her younger’s, dollar fifty flip-flops slapping against the hot pavement, a pair of her mom’s old sunglasses slipping down her nose, smelling like SPF 70. She is eight and a half and her brothers still call her Izzy because Izzy Peterson hasn’t joined her class and made her need to pick a new nickname because now there are five Isabell/Isabellas in her small third-grade class and there can’t be two Izzys and the kids make fun of her when she goes by Isabella so she needs to think of something new, mom.

The pool is always busy; dozens of children all with varying degrees of sunburn running around, splashing and planning elaborate games with rules that change on a whim.

Willa doesn’t run. A sign says not to and that is that in her mind.

She does, however, play elaborate games. Always the ones Michael came up with because he is the oldest and he gets to pick. He usually wants to play pirates and have Willa swim around to avoid being kidnapped because “pirates kidnapped girls and you’re the only one, Izzy”.

Sometimes Michael stays home because he’s twelve now and doesn’t want to hang out with babies so Philip, being the next oldest, gets to pick the game. And sometimes she meets someone new, some other little girl who lives in the neighborhood that she’s never seen before and likely never will again who’ll play mermaids with her and thinks her blue tail and magic manatee sidekick is cool, not lame like Michale says.

They all take swim lessons too, but Willa is the only one who likes them. She’s trying to convince her parents to pay the extra money for a better school, better coach; more lessons because she’s just learned what the Olympics are and they seem so cool, to swim with all those people, but then a drunk driver slams into her dad’s Honda and well.

Hospital bills trump extracurriculars, apparently.

She spends so much time in the water that the idea of being afraid of any of it is laughable. The idea that there are people who actively avoid water, that live states away from the closest ocean, and are fine with that is so utterly baffling to her. Sure, she isn’t about to jump in the nearest lake because there are alligators and water snakes and probably some brain-eating bacteria but the actual water isn’t bad. It’s comforting, most days.

And then she almost drowns.

Like, four separate times.

The first time, on Winnie the Pooh with Charlene she’s admittedly more worried about the impending electrocution than actually drowning. It’s probably what will kill them first, and god, is she really going to die with Charlene? Some girl she hardly knows and isn’t even sure she likes because they’ve only talked, like, five times?

But they pry the doors open, they live, and she takes the bus home, wrapped in a Mickey Mouse towel that had cost way too much for how thin it was, hair damp and curling on her shoulders, and tells her mom they got caught in a rainstorm but yes, she and her new friend had fun.

Overall it isn't very frightening of an experience after all is said and done. Sure, it’s worrying to know that the Overtakers aren’t going to hold back, not even during operating hours, but she certainly isn’t having nightmares about it.

And then it goes and becomes a semi-regular thing.

She is sinking in Echo Lake, murky water rippling with bullets and fluff floating above her, thinking, once more, this is how I die.

She is treading water in the Atlantic, trying to keep Charlene calm and listen to Finn and keep Maybeck in her line of sight while knowing there are needlefish swimming under her, and god, why does she watch so much Animal Planet because she knew exactly how dangerous they can be (needle sharp jaws that can pierce skin like butter; pose a greater risk of injury than sharks) and she isn’t physically drowning but God does it feel like she is.

She has just jumped off a cruise ship, and her hand is slipping away from Finn’s, and even if she doesn’t let go the ship is moving so fast they are going to get pulled under the hull and they are going to drown.

But Ariel shows up.

But Triton helps.

And then he helps again.

And she is left wet, and cold, with damp hair and a sore throat from coughing up lungs full of water but she doesn’t die. She hardly ever has bruises.

And in between it all she still has swim team, still takes her younger brothers to the neighborhood pool, and picks the games they played because Michael and Philip are away at college and she is the oldest now.

And most times the cool blanket of water was just as it’s always been, comforting and chlorinated, the sharp scent clinging to her skin in an oh-so-familiar way.

And then other times.

Other times it feels suffocating, frigidly cold and she’s so certain it’s going to pull her down, down, deep into murky darkness and this time there will be no magical intervention, just her and the tightness of her chest, the knowledge that this time she is going to drown, this time it is really going to happen, she is going to die.

She ends up seeing a therapist in her Freshman year of college, someone found for her by Disney who has to sign a bunch of NDAs and half the time looks at Willa as if she’s crazy, but she helps, a bit.

Sometimes she wakes up cold and wet from sweat, room unfamiliar and the snores of her roommate in her ear and has to think to remember where she is (Harvard, she’s at Harvard, and she isn’t drowning). She calls Charlene or Maybeck, both on the west coast, both two hours behind her and almost always still awake, insomnia and bad habits from worse days still in effect.

#first part is very much inspired by my nostalgia for florida summers #i think willa would have a strange relationship with feelings #brown girl who’s the only girl in her family #she’s insanely intelligent and knows more feminine traits like being emotional will make others respect her less in academic fields #she’s an older sister who has to put her own feelings aside to help her brothers #she’s dealing with an emotionally distant mom as one of her only female role models #and she’s under sonstanr public scrutiny because of her job #so while finn gets therapy and care very quickly i think she waits and puts it off #because it’s admitting that things are wrong and that she can’t solve everything #i think she’d go through quite a few therapists before she actually finds one that sticks because the idea of actually acknowledging #her feelings is scary #she’s kind and nice and loves fiercely and isn’t afraid to speak her mind #but the deeper feelings #the ptsd and guild would be harder #willa angelo #finn whitman #dell philby #terry maybeck #charlene turner #amanda lockhart #jessica lockhart #kingdom keepers #ridley pearson #disney headcanons #my wriring

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anxious-black-hottie · 1 year

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#bringing down the house #queen latifah #charlene morton #kimberly j brown #sarah sanderson #2000s #my upload #mine #mines

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goodbooksandgoodwine · 1 year

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Audiobook Mini Reviews Part Two

Hello! Onto the second half of my audiobook mini reviews. As I said, I have been listening to so many lately and feel no shame in my game. These books are varied with how much I enjoyed them — but I am very much loving the different genres I’ve been consuming. Seton Girls by Charlene Thomas Seton Girls by Charlene Thomas is an absolute must read/must listen. This book takes on tough themes —…

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#Adalyn Grace #Alexis Henderson #audiobook #Book Review #Charlene Thomas #Contemporary #Forever #Kacie Rogers #Kristin Atherton #Little Brown Young Readers #Meredith Schorr #multicultural #Penguin #Young Adult

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dayzsaclark · 7 months

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Happy Halloween from my girls!! 🎃💖

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goodstuffhappenedtoday · 2 months

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‘Bigger than the Oscars’: Blackfeet Nation honors Lily Gladstone with stand-up headdress

BROWNING — Wearing a white sequin shawl and matching ribbon skirt, esteemed actress Lily Gladstone kneeled on the floor of the new arbor on the Blackfeet Reservation as tribal elders placed a stand-up headdress atop her head.

Thousands of people who traveled across the country — and from Canada — to honor Gladstone watched in silence.

Gladstone stood and embraced tribal leaders. Then, with one hand over her heart and the other holding onto Charlene Plume, the elder who made her headdress, Gladstone danced in a circle around the arbor. Members of the Women’s Stand-Up Headdress Society, tribal leaders, dignitaries, students, teachers and children followed behind.

The sound of drums boomed, and the crowd erupted.

Gladstone, who grew up in Browning and East Glacier, recently rose to worldwide fame after starring in Martin Scorsese’s “Killers of the Flower Moon” alongside Robert De Niro and Leonardo DiCaprio.

She made history, becoming the first Indigenous person to win a Golden Globe award for best actress and the first to be nominated for best actress at the Oscars.

At Tuesday’s event — which included a grand entry, flag song, prayer, speeches from dignitaries, honor song and round dance — leaders thanked Gladstone for representing the Blackfeet Nation on the world stage and for being a role model for young people.

“Because of you, rez kids on every reservation here and in Canada can chase their dreams,” Councilman Everett Armstrong said at the event. “Students, take a look at this accomplishment — it’s possible.”

Councilman Robert DesRosier delighted in the fact that Gladstone “is just like us.”

“She’s us,” he told the crowd before turning to Gladstone. “Lily, welcome home.”

More than 50 members of the Women’s Stand-Up Headdress Society — a group of contemporary Blackfoot women in the U.S. and Canada who own such headdresses — traveled to Browning to celebrate Gladstone. Theda New Breast, a member of the society, said Tuesday marked the largest gathering of stand-up headdress members to date. (BEN ALLAN SMITH, Missoulian)

more at the link

#lily gladstone #blackfeet #native american #indigenous #good stuff

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blackwoolncrown · 1 year

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Reading list for Afro-Herbalism:

A Healing Grove: African Tree Remedies and Rituals for the Body and Spirit by Stephanie Rose Bird

Affrilachia: Poems by Frank X Walker

African American Medicine in Washington, D.C.: Healing the Capital During the Civil War Era by Heather Butts

African American Midwifery in the South: Dialogues of Birth, Race, and Memory by Gertrude Jacinta Fraser

African American Slave Medicine: Herbal and Non-Herbal Treatments by Herbert Covey

African Ethnobotany in the Americas edited by Robert Voeks and John Rashford

Africanisms in the Gullah Dialect by Lorenzo Dow Turner

Africans and Native Americans: The Language of Race and the Evolution of Red-Black Peoples by Jack Forbes

African Medicine: A Complete Guide to Yoruba Healing Science and African Herbal Remedies by Dr. Tariq M. Sawandi, PhD

Afro-Vegan: Farm-Fresh, African, Caribbean, and Southern Flavors Remixed by Bryant Terry

Barracoon: The Story of the Last “Black Cargo” by Zora Neale Hurston

Big Mama’s Back in the Kitchen by Charlene Johnson

Big Mama’s Old Black Pot by Ethel Dixon

Black Belief: Folk Beliefs of Blacks in America and West Africa by Henry H. Mitchell

Black Diamonds, Vol. 1 No. 1 and Vol. 1 Nos. 2–3 edited by Edward J. Cabbell

Black Faces, White Spaces: Reimagining the Relationship of African Americans to the Great Outdoors by Carolyn Finney

Black Food Geographies: Race, Self-Reliance, and Food Access in Washington, D.C. by Ashanté M. Reese

Black Indian Slave Narratives edited by Patrick Minges

Black Magic: Religion and the African American Conjuring Tradition by Yvonne P. Chireau

Black Nature: Four Centuries of African American Nature Poetry edited by Camille T. Dungy

Blacks in Appalachia edited by William Turner and Edward J. Cabbell

Caribbean Vegan: Meat-Free, Egg-Free, Dairy-Free Authentic Island Cuisine for Every Occasion by Taymer Mason

Dreams of Africa in Alabama: The Slave Ship Clotilda and the Story of the Last Africans Brought to America by Sylviane Diouf

Faith, Health, and Healing in African American Life by Emilie Townes and Stephanie Y. Mitchem

Farming While Black: Soul Fire Farm’s Practical Guide to Liberation on the Land by Leah Penniman

Folk Wisdom and Mother Wit: John Lee – An African American Herbal Healer by John Lee and Arvilla Payne-Jackson

Four Seasons of Mojo: An Herbal Guide to Natural Living by Stephanie Rose Bird

Freedom Farmers: Agricultural Resistance and the Black Freedom Movement by Monica White

Fruits of the Harvest: Recipes to Celebrate Kwanzaa and Other Holidays by Eric Copage

George Washington Carver by Tonya Bolden

George Washington Carver: In His Own Words edited by Gary Kremer

God, Dr. Buzzard, and the Bolito Man: A Saltwater Geechee Talks About Life on Sapelo Island, Georgia by Cornelia Bailey

Gone Home: Race and Roots through Appalachia by Karida Brown

Ethno-Botany of the Black Americans by William Ed Grime

Gullah Cuisine: By Land and by Sea by Charlotte Jenkins and William Baldwin

Gullah Culture in America by Emory Shaw Campbell and Wilbur Cross

Gullah/Geechee: Africa’s Seeds in the Winds of the Diaspora-St. Helena’s Serenity by Queen Quet Marquetta Goodwine

High on the Hog: A Culinary Journey from Africa to America by Jessica Harris and Maya Angelou

Homecoming: The Story of African-American Farmers by Charlene Gilbert

Hoodoo Medicine: Gullah Herbal Remedies by Faith Mitchell

Jambalaya: The Natural Woman’s Book of Personal Charms and Practical Rituals by Luisah Teish

Just Medicine: A Cure for Racial Inequality in American Health Care by Dayna Bowen Matthew

Leaves of Green: A Handbook of Herbal Remedies by Maude E. Scott

Like a Weaving: References and Resources on Black Appalachians by Edward J. Cabbell

Listen to Me Good: The Story of an Alabama Midwife by Margaret Charles Smith and Linda Janet Holmes

Making Gullah: A History of Sapelo Islanders, Race, and the American Imagination by Melissa Cooper

Mandy’s Favorite Louisiana Recipes by Natalie V. Scott

Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present by Harriet Washington

Mojo Workin’: The Old African American Hoodoo System by Katrina Hazzard-Donald

Motherwit: An Alabama Midwife’s Story by Onnie Lee Logan as told to Katherine Clark

My Bag Was Always Packed: The Life and Times of a Virginia Midwife by Claudine Curry Smith and Mildred Hopkins Baker Roberson

My Face Is Black Is True: Callie House and the Struggle for Ex-Slave Reparations by Mary Frances Berry

My Grandmother's Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies by Resmaa Menakem

On Her Own Ground: The Life and Times of Madam C.J. Walker by A'Lelia Bundles

Papa Jim’s Herbal Magic Workbook by Papa Jim

Places for the Spirit: Traditional African American Gardens by Vaughn Sills (Photographer), Hilton Als (Foreword), Lowry Pei (Introduction)

Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome by Dr. Joy DeGruy

Rooted in the Earth: Reclaiming the African American Environmental Heritage by Diane Glave

Rufus Estes’ Good Things to Eat: The First Cookbook by an African-American Chef by Rufus Estes

Secret Doctors: Ethnomedicine of African Americans by Wonda Fontenot

Sex, Sickness, and Slavery: Illness in the Antebellum South by Marli Weiner with Mayzie Hough

Slavery’s Exiles: The Story of the American Maroons by Sylviane Diouf

Soul Food: The Surprising Story of an American Cuisine, One Plate at a Time by Adrian Miller

Spirituality and the Black Helping Tradition in Social Work by Elmer P. Martin Jr. and Joanne Mitchell Martin

Sticks, Stones, Roots & Bones: Hoodoo, Mojo & Conjuring with Herbs by Stephanie Rose Bird

The African-American Heritage Cookbook: Traditional Recipes and Fond Remembrances from Alabama’s Renowned Tuskegee Institute by Carolyn Quick Tillery

The Black Family Reunion Cookbook (Recipes and Food Memories from the National Council of Negro Women) edited by Libby Clark

The Conjure Woman and Other Conjure Tales by Charles Chesnutt

The Home Place: Memoirs of a Colored Man’s Love Affair with Nature by J. Drew Lanham

The Jemima Code: Two Centuries of African American Cookbooks by Toni Tipton-Martin

The President’s Kitchen Cabinet: The Story of the African Americans Who Have Fed Our First Families, from the Washingtons to the Obamas by Adrian Miller

The Taste of Country Cooking: The 30th Anniversary Edition of a Great Classic Southern Cookbook by Edna Lewis

The Tuskegee Syphilis Study: An Insiders’ Account of the Shocking Medical Experiment Conducted by Government Doctors Against African American Men by Fred D. Gray

Trace: Memory, History, Race, and the American Landscape by Lauret E. Savoy

Vegan Soul Kitchen: Fresh, Healthy, and Creative African-American Cuisine by Bryant Terry

Vibration Cooking: Or, The Travel Notes of a Geechee Girl by Vertamae Smart-Grosvenor

Voodoo and Hoodoo: The Craft as Revealed by Traditional Practitioners by Jim Haskins

When Roots Die: Endangered Traditions on the Sea Islands by Patricia Jones-Jackson

Working Conjure: A Guide to Hoodoo Folk Magic by Hoodoo Sen Moise

Working the Roots: Over 400 Years of Traditional African American Healing by Michelle Lee

Wurkn Dem Rootz: Ancestral Hoodoo by Medicine Man

Zora Neale Hurston: Folklore, Memoirs, and Other Writings: Mules and Men, Tell My Horse, Dust Tracks on a Road, Selected Articles by Zora Neale Hurston

The Ways of Herbalism in the African World with Olatokunboh Obasi MSc, RH (webinar via The American Herbalists Guild)

#herbalism #african american #rootwork #african #native american #hoodoo #voodoo

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scrollsofhumanlife · 2 years

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Charlene Abdal nee Brown

B. December 8th 1952 in Greenwich, Connecticut

Greenwich, Connecticut

#Charlene Abdal #Charlene Brown #Greenwich #Connecticut #mother #wife #grandmother #beloved aunt and sister #executive assistant #fourth selectman #the heartbeat of greenwich #may she rest in peace #<3

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a-aexotic · 1 month

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𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡, chapter 5

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ! 4.6k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ! typical gossip girl things, mention of drinking, FIGHTING!!!! (so much of it), making up ;)

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You sat next to Charlene at the dining table, listening to Josie talk about the nursery for the new baby. You nodded along mindlessly, playing with your cereal as your mind raced.

Thoughts of Serena, Blair, Nate, and the tangled web of relationships swirled in your mind, each thread pulling you in a different direction. You felt torn between loyalty to your friends, the desire to maintain peace, and the need to address the underlying issues that had driven a wedge between you all. Lost in your thoughts, you absently stirred your cereal, the clinking of the spoon against the bowl serving as a distant echo in the sea of your racing thoughts.

"Y/N, did you hear me?" Your father spoke as you startled, snapping back to the present moment. You looked up, meeting your father's expectant gaze as he repeated his question.

"Sorry, Dad, what were you saying?" you asked, attempting to mask your distraction with a faint smile.

"I was asking you when the Ivy mixer is. I wanted to come by and help everyone out, I know Lily is in charge of it but I can't get a hold of her." Your father explained as he bit into his toast.

You nodded, recalling the details of the upcoming Ivy mixer. "Oh, right. I think we're finding out today at the assembly. I can double-check with Lily to make sure everything's on track, and I'll let you know if she needs any help."

"Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate it. It's always chaotic trying to organize these events." Your dad chuckled as he chewed, moving his gaze back to Charlene. "And uh... for the mixer, Josie was hoping that you'd stick with Charlene and help her get some networking done with the reps. She wants to go to Harvard, like you."

You glanced at Charlene with a faint smile but she ignored you, nodding along to what your father was saying. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and nodded. "Yeah, sure."

"My two daughters at Harvard would be a dream." Your father grinned proudly and again, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

She's not your daughter, you wanted to shout but you bit your tongue and took a bite of your now, soggy cereal.

──౨ৎ──

"And then he was all like, having my two daughters at Harvard would be a dream." You mocked your father as you walked out of the assembly, Blair walking next to you as she scoffed, Kati and Isabel walking close behind you two. "And I wanted to say that she isn't his actual daughter but I didn't."

"You should've. I would pay to see his reaction." Blair smirked as you laughed, nodding along before Blair's expression dropped. She rolled her eyes and you turned to see where she was facing, finding Serena walking toward you. She was late, she wasn't at the assembly.

"Oh, too bad you missed the assembly." Blair feigned sympathy as she looked up at the blonde. "Brown doesn't offer degrees in slut," she continued with an amused expression as Serena offered her a sarcastic smile.

Blair walked away with a proud grin, leaving you and Serena alone. You and Serena both exchanged glances before bursting out laughing. It was supposed to be an insult but you both couldn't help but laugh.

As the laughter subsided, Serena shook her head, a smile still playing on her lips. "Leave it to Blair to come up with the most creative insults."

"Yeah, she definitely has a way with words," you replied, still chuckling as you glanced back at Blair, who was now chatting with Kati and Isabel.

Serena's smile faded slightly as she looked back at you, her expression turning more serious. "Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something about yesterday."

You waved it off, giving her a smile. "I'm sorry I blew up on everyone, I was just stressed out. And don't worry about it, okay? I'm sure Dan will come around."

Serena gave you a sad smile before shrugging. "I... I don't think so but maybe it's for the best. Dan doesn't wanna get involved in all this Upper-East Side bullshit and I don't blame him."

You gave her a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry, S."

Serena nodded, her gaze dropping slightly as she played with the edge of her sleeve. "Thanks, Y/N. It's just been a lot to deal with lately."

You reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I understand. But hey, you've always been resilient. You'll get through this too."

Serena offered you a small, appreciative smile before straightening up, determination shining in her eyes. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Y/N."

But before you could reply, you heard Blair's voice ringing in your ear. "Y/N, hurry up we need to get to class." You couldn't help but roll your eyes as you quickly said bye to Serena, catching up with Blair and beginning to walk to class together.

The group was split up into two as you played field hockey. It was all fine up until Blair decided to keep targeting Serena and fouling her. Blair's aggressive targeting of Serena didn't go unnoticed, and it soon became clear that her fouls were deliberate attempts to hurt her.

"Blair, ease up!" you called out, frustration evident in your voice as you gestured for her to back off.

Blair shot you a defiant glare but made no move to change her tactics. Serena, on the other hand, remained composed despite the mounting pressure, refusing to let Blair's antics get to her.

"Enough, Blair!" Serena's voice cut through the tension, her tone firm as she finally stood up to Blair's relentless targeting.

"It's enough when I say it's enough." Blair snapped as she walked away, making sure to hit Serena's shoulder as she did. You and Serena exchanged looks before you sighed, continuing to focus on the game.

And finally, Serena had enough. She ran up to Blair, tackling her to the ground. Serena got on top of her and began pulling her arms as you ran up behind them, irritation on your face as you tried to break them up.

"Get off of me!" Blair shouted as Serena kept pulling on her arms. You tried to get her off of Blair to no use.

"Serena, stop!" you shouted, your voice strained as you attempted to pry her off Blair. But Serena was relentless, her anger driving her actions as she continued to grapple with Blair.

"Is that enough yet?!" Serena shouted back before she accidentally pulled you down with them, earning a grunt from you. She scoffed and got up, but not before Blair could get up. "So it's actually come to physical blows, huh?"

"Guys, what the hell?!" you exclaimed, your voice tinged with anger as you pushed yourself up from the ground, feeling the ache from the fall. "This isn't helping anyone!"

But Serena seemed oblivious to your words, her attention solely focused on Blair as she stood there, seething with rage. "You think you can just keep targeting me like this and get away with it? Well, not anymore!"

"Serena, Blair, this needs to stop," you said firmly, your voice cutting through the tension. "Jesus Christ, I mean we're friends, or at least we used to be."

Serena turned to face you, her expression still flushed with anger. "She started it, Y/N. She's been targeting me ever since-"

"I don't care who started it!" you interjected, your voice tinged with exasperation.

Serena looked back at Blair with a little bit of hesitation, sighing before speaking up. "Fine. Truce?"

Blair glared back at you and Serena before her expression turned to pained, a slight smirk on her face as she does so. "Ow! My leg!"

You couldn't believe it. Blair was faking an injury to deflect from the tension of the moment. It was a classic Blair move, but it only served to frustrate you further. You exchanged a bewildered glance with Serena, both of you realizing that Blair was resorting to her usual tactics to cause more issues.

"Blair, come on," you said, your voice tinged with irritation.

Blair winced dramatically, clutching her leg as she looked up at you with wide, innocent eyes. "I'm not faking it, Y/N! It really hurts!" Kati and Isbell ran to her side, helping her stand up as you glared back at her.

"Serena, you're outta here." The coach shouted as Serena walked off, throwing her hockey stick to the ground.

"I hope it's broken." Serena spat as she walked off the field.

You rolled your eyes as you watched Kati and Isbell help walk Blair to the nurse's office. You hated being in between them but they were your best friends, it's just what you have to do. It's part of the job but you were beginning to wonder if all of this was really worth it.

──౨ৎ──

You walked into the Ivy Mixer behind your father and Charlene, who was wearing a Harvard sweater; the same one that your father had also gotten you when you were younger. Your father seemed proud, chatting animatedly with Charlene about the opportunities awaiting her at Harvard.

You glanced around the room, taking in the prestigious Ivy League representatives mingling with students. Despite the elegance of the occasion, you couldn't shake off the tension that had been building within you since the recent conflicts with Blair and Serena.

Your father guided you and Charlene through the crowd, introducing her to some of the representatives and encouraging her to network and make connections. You watched as Charlene navigated the room with ease, her confidence shining through as she conversed with the representatives.

Meanwhile, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. While you had once dreamed of attending Harvard, recent events had left you questioning everything. Did you even want to go to Harvard now apparently, Charlene had to attend too?

"And my daughter, Y/N is the Student Council president of the school. She is also second in her class." Her father spoke as you nodded along, shaking the hand of one of the Harvard reps.

You had worked hard to earn your position as Student Council president and to maintain a high academic standing, but now it all felt hollow. The pressure to live up to your father's expectations, to uphold the family reputation, felt suffocating. And now, with Charlene also vying for a spot at Harvard, it only added to the weight on your shoulders.

"I see you're running low on champagne, would you like me to find you another glass, sir?" You asked politely, offering to assist the Harvard representative in replenishing his drink.

The representative nodded appreciatively, offering you a grateful smile. "Yes, thank you. That would be lovely."

You excused yourself from the conversation with a polite nod and made your way to the refreshments table, your mind still consumed with conflicting thoughts.

You looked up to meet the eyes of Dan, a polite smile on your lips. You didn't know him well but you still felt gulity about the whole Serena and brunch thing, oh and the whole thing with Chuck and Jenny. The poor guy can't catch a break.

"Hey, Dan," you greeted him, setting down the champagne bottle. "I thought you were the Dartmouth usher?"

Dan returned your smile, though there was a hint of hesitation in his expression. "No, Nate is. I thought... actually never mind."

"I know. You deserved to get that position." You whispered as he nodded sheepishly.

Dan's expression softened at your words, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate that."

You saw his gaze wander to behind you, you turned around to meet Serena's blue eyes. She walked toward the table, irritation on her face.

"Let me guess, Blair?" You asked and pretended to be shocked when she nodded, Dan letting out a soft chuckle. "Would've never guessed. What did she do?"

"Well, you know how I wanted to go to Brown. And she wanted to go Yale? Well now, somehow, we switched. She's talking to the stupid Brown reps and I'm stuck with the Yale reps." Serena explained as you and Dan exchanged looks.

"Oh, yeah. I get it. I mean since you don't actually have to worry about getting into college, why not make the whole evening about screwing over Blair?" Dan spoke sarcastically as he tried to hand her a drink.

You looked in between them, concern etching your features. Dan seems pretty bitter about the whole thing but you couldn't even blame. And as if things couldn't get even more awkward, Nate walked up to the table, looking at the refreshments.

"Hey." Serena turned to greet Nate, only to be completely ignored. You couldn't help but stifle a laugh as you took a sip of your drink, watching the whole thing.

"Wait, you're seriously not gonna talk to me? Like literally not speak?" Serena's voice held a mixture of disbelief and frustration as she looked at Nate, who remained silent, his gaze fixed on the refreshments.

Nate finally looked up, his expression unreadable as he met Serena's gaze. "Hey."

"Oh, much better. Thanks guys." She sighed, looking in between the boys before looking back at you. You gave her a sympathetic smile before she gives you a thumbs up, walking away.

"That was cold, Nate." You spoke, slightly amusement in your voice as you finally began refilling the champagne.

He glared back at you and you put your hands up in mock surrender as you exchanged a glance with Dan, who looked like he was enjoying the scene. Silence settled in between them before Dan spoke up.

"So, um... what's he like?" Dan asked, referring to the Dartmouth rep.

"Like a Dartmouth English lit professor I have nothing in common with. Guess I could tell him how I got everything because I'm an Archibald." Nate rambled slightly as Dan's expression turned from amused to sympathetic. You took that as your cue to leave, nodding your head to Dan as you walked away.

You put all the drama in the back-burner for the night, deciding to just engage with the Harvard rep. You were slightly glad to see that Charlene began talking more to the Princeton rep, allowing you to focus on your conversation without distractions.

You couldn't help but keep looking through the glass door, watching Nate as he talked with Dan. You noticed when he walked away and when his father tried to pull him back, but he pushed him away. It looked tense but you couldn't afford to get distracted, you just focused on talking with the Harvard rep.

You thought the rest of the evening would go smoothly up until you and Blair got up to announce this year's local institution they were going to sponsor.

"Can I have everyone's attention please?" Blair spoke as she walked up toward the podium, a polite smile plastered on her lips as you followed close behind. "Welcome again to the Constance Billard St Judas Ivy Week Mixer. I'm Blair Waldorf, chair of the the community outreach committee."

You plastered on a polite smile as well. "And I'm Y/N Winfrey, Student Council President."

The crowd began to clap before you continued. "Every year, our schools choose to support one local institution that we feel benefits our community."

"This year, our schools have chosen to honor the Osteroff Center." Blair continued as the crowd applauds. "This semester our choice is a very personal one because the center has helped one of our own."

Your expression suddenly turns to a confused one as you turned to face Blair. This was what she was not what we planned to say. Your eyes scanned the crowd and they fell on Serena and her family and it suddenly dawned on you.

"It's because of their excellent program which aids so many young addicts and alcoholics that a student here with us today is clean and sober." Blair spoke, feigning concern. "At least for now. Can I please have Serena van der Woodsen join us on stage?"

Your jaw dropped but you tried to keep your composure. You couldn't believe Blair. Serena slowly walked up to the stage and glared at Blair, not even acknowledging you.

"Don't try to deny it, Chuck saw you." Blair whispered as you tried to keep a smile on your face, trying to hide the inner panic you feel at the moment. Blair pulls you aside, making sure that Serena is the main focus as the crowd begins to clap.

"Hi, I'm Serena van der Woodsen. I just want to thank my friend Blair Waldorf for recognizing the Osteroff center and all the good things they do. Thanks Blair. Oh, and of course our president, Y/N." Serena puts on a fake smile as she begins to clap, the crowd clapping along.

"At the center, one of the main things that we learn is forgiveness. About how in order to move forward with our future we must forgive those who have wronged us in the past. And we must ourselves ask for forgiveness from those whom we've wronged. Without this forgiveness, innocent people-"

"Alright, thank you Serena. Thank you." She cut her off with a smile as the crowd claps again, Serena walking off the stage. You gave her a sympathetic smile as she walks away, making sure to push Blair slightly so that the crowd could focus on you again.

With a forced smile plastered on your face, you stepped forward to address the crowd once again, trying to regain control of the situation. "Thank you, Serena, for sharing your story with us. And thank you, Blair, for your efforts in organizing this event."

You took a deep breath, pushing down the rising frustration within you. "As Serena mentioned, forgiveness is indeed a very important aspect of moving forward. And tonight, let's remember the importance of supporting each other, even in times of adversity."

The crowd responded with polite applause, but you could sense the tension lingering in the air. But before you could even address Blair, she walked off the stage.

You ran after her, pulling on her arm. "Blair, that was a low blow, even for you."

As you pulled on Blair's arm, she turned to face you, her expression unapologetic. "Oh, please. It's not like I said anything that wasn't true."

But you held on, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "No, Blair, I won't let you brush this off. What you did to Serena was cruel and unnecessary. You publicly humiliated her in front of everyone. And not just anyone, college reps! That is insane."

Before Blair could respond, Serena came up to her with a tired expression. "What the hell was that? So we good now? We square?"

"No because nothing I do will ever be as bad as what you did to me." Blair spat as she glared up at Serena.

"Look, I'm asking you, please. I'll stop if you will." Serena's voice was hurt as she looked down at the brunette.

"You're just saying that because today, you lost. And you're gonna keep losing." Blair's voice was sharp with bitterness as she glared up at Serena.

Before Serena could respond, you let out a groan as you looked in between your best friends. "I'm done with both of you. Are you serious right now? You are acting like a child, Blair. You have no idea what you did up there, it wasn't even Serena-"

"Y/N, stop. No." Serena stopped you before you could continue.

"Why do I even bother, I'm done. I am done with the petty drama and catfights," you exclaimed, frustration evident in your voice as you turned away from Blair and Serena.

Serena reached out, grabbing your arm gently to stop you from walking away. "Y/N, wait."

You pulled your arm out of her grip and walked away and out of the mixer, you were calling it a night.

"Even Y/N's done with your bullshit, Serena." You heard Blair scoff as you walked off. You didn't even know where you running off to until you were there.

You were in the back of building and you saw Nate sitting on the bench, a blunt placed perfectly on his lips as he took a drag. You knew exactly where to find him. He looked up and noticed you, taking him by surprise.

You didn't say anything, all you did was sit next to Nate on the bench as you put your face in yours hands. You looked up at Nate and he gave you a faint smile before handing you the blunt.

You took a deep drag and you felt your lungs burn up. It had been a while since you'd swore off smoking but you needed, especially after the day you had. And apparently, so does Nate.

As you sat there next to Nate, passing the blunt between you, a heavy silence settled over the both of you. It was a strange comfort, finding solace in each other's company amidst the chaos of your lives.

Eventually, Nate broke the silence, his voice soft. "You okay?"

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head as the smoke swirled around the two of you. "Not really."

Nate nodded in understanding, his gaze fixed on you. "Yeah, me neither."

"What's got you all stressed out?" You spoke, leaning back on the bench as you looked back at him.

"My dad." He replied and you weren't surprised. "He wants me to go to Dartmouth and I keep telling him I wanna keep my options open. But he just ignores it. And now he's making me stay with Blair because of-" He paused as his eyes widen, realizing he's revealed too much.

You shake your head, urging him to continue. "I won't tell."

"He said I can't break up with Blair yet because he needs the Waldorfs on his good side because of business." Nate's voice trailed off, his frustration evident in his expression. "It's just... everything feels so out of my control, you know? Like I'm being pulled in all these different directions, and I don't know which way to go."

You listened quietly, understanding all too well the weight of family expectations and the pressure to please others. "That's... messed up," you muttered, unable to hide the concern in your voice. "Your dad shouldn't be pulling strings like that, especially when it comes to your personal life."

Nate let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Yeah, tell me about it. But what can I do? He's not gonna listen to me."

You nodded in understanding, knowing all too well the weight of familial expectations. "It's tough, but you'll figure it out. I know you will."

He returned your smile, a glimmer of gratitude in his eyes. "So what's going on with you? I thought you gave up smoking."

"I could say the same for you, Archibald." You teased as he let out a little chuckle, his falling back but his gaze still fixed on you. "It's a long... long story. I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"Let me take a guess," Nate sat up and turned to face you fully. "You feel like you're constantly being pushed and pulled between Serena and Blair. And the whole daddy issues thing hasn't fixed itself either."

Your eyebrows furrowed at Nate's very true statements. Could he really read you that well or was it really that obvious? You were speechless for a second as Nate let out another laugh.

"I've known you since we were kids, Y/N. I can read you better than anyone else. And plus, it isn't anything new. Serena and Blair have always fought and you've always been in the middle." Nate's words hit home, and you couldn't deny the truth in them. He had always been perceptive, able to see through the facade you sometimes put up for others.

"Yeah, you're right," you admitted with a sigh, running a hand through your hair. "It's just exhausting, you know? Trying to keep the peace between them while dealing with my own issues. Trying to keep everyone happy while feeling like I'm constantly being torn apart. And now with my dad pressuring me about college while also replacing me with Charlene."

Nate listened attentively, his expression sympathetic. "I get it, Y/N. It's a lot to handle. But just know that you're not alone in this. I'm here for you, always."

You looked back at him, a sudden surge of gratefulness hitting you. And suddenly, gulit hit you like a ton of bricks. The whole thing with Serena and Nate, you completely shut him out. You let out an exhale, not really knowing what to even say.

"I'm sorry, Nate."

"Why are you sorry?" He muttered as he looked back at you, concern evident in his features. "I should be the one apologizing. I've been an asshole."

"And I've been a bitch." You replied as you both smiled. You both laughed softly as Nate shook his head.

"It doesn't have to be complicated, you know?" Nate started, his voice soft as he looked at you with sincerity in his eyes. "We've been through a lot together, and I don't want things to be so hard between us."

You sighed, not really knowing what to say.

"Look I meant what I said at the Kiss on the Lips party, I'll forget about my feelings if it means we get to stay friends." Nate whispered as he looked back you, his voice gentle.

"But what if-"

"There's a million what if's, Y/N. And they don't matter." Nate spoke, coming off harsher than expected. "The whole honest truth is the last six months you've been gone have been hell. I have no one who I can be honest with and-and no one I can call at 3 in the morning because I can't sleep. No one I can genuinely depend on to listen to me."

You felt a pang of guilt at Nate's words, realizing the impact your absence had on him. "I'm sorry, Nate. I didn't realize..."

"It doesn't matter, I just want you in my life." Nate's gaze softened as he reached out to squeeze your hand reassuringly. "And we'll stay completely platonic because that's what you wanted, right?"

No. You wanted to shout no but as you thought about Blair and the million other things keep you guys apart, all you do was nod. "Right."

A smile began curving on his lips as he let out a relieved sigh. "Then it's settled."

You smiled back at your best friend. "It's settled."

You guys both gazed at one another for a few more seconds before he spoke up. "We should shake on it. You know, our handshake."

You let out a laugh as you suddenly remember your guys' secret handshake. It had been a while but how could you forget it?

With practiced ease, you and Nate stuck out your hands and intertwined your fingers, executing the series of moves that made up your secret handshake. As you finished, you both laughed again, feeling a sense of normalcy wash over you.

As you finished the handshake, Nate gave you a playful nudge. "See? Nothing's changed between us."

"Nothing at all," you agreed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

You both sat there in silence for a while longer, the weight of the evening fading slowly. In that moment, sitting there with Nate, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. Maybe things would be okay, eventually.

Or maybe they wouldn't. But for now, you had each other, and that was enough.

#gossip girl #nate archibald #nate archibald x reader #blair waldorf #chuck bass #gossip girl x reader #gossip girl x you #nate archibald x you #dan humphrey #georgina sparks #chuck x blair #serena van der woodsen #serena van der woodsen x reader #chuck bass x reader

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diddyrivera · 5 months

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additional resources to marxist feminism:

living a feminist life by sara ahmed

the rise and decline of patriarchal systems by nancy folbre

this bridge called my back: writings by radical women of color by cherrie moraga and gloria anzaldua

delusions of gender: how our minds, society, and neurosexism create difference by cordelia fine

close to home: a materialist analysis to women's oppression by christine delphy

(pdf) the feminist standpoint: developing the ground for a specifically feminist historical materialism

(medium) on women as a class: materialist feminism and mass struggle by aly e

(sagejournals) capital and class: the unhappy moments of marxism and feminism: towards a more progressive union

(substack) the marxfem pulpit by abigail von maure (earth2abbs on tiktok)

if anything else related to marxist feminism, just let me know :)

additional resources to eco feminism:

gossips, gorgons, and crones: the fates of the earth by jane caputi

parable of the sower by octavia e butler

neither man nor beast: feminism and the defense of animals by carol j. adams

bitch: on the female of species by lucy cooke

fresh banana leaves: healing indigenous landscapes through indigenous science by jessica hernandez

the intersectional environmentalist by leah thomas

right here, right now by natalie isaacs

feminism or death by francoise d'ealibonne

violent inheritance: sexuality, land, and energy in making the north american west by e cram

animal crisis: a new critical theory by alice grary

unsettling: surviving extinction together by elizabeth weinberg

land of women by maria sanchez

sexus animalis: there is nothing unnatural in nature by emmanuelle pouydebat

windswept: walking the paths of trailblazing women by annabel abbs

andrea smith - rape of the land

andy smith - ecofeminism through an anticolonial framework

carolyn marchant - nature as female

charlene spretnak - critical and constructive contributions of ecofeminism

heather eaton - ecological feminist theology

heather Eaton - The Edge of the Seat

janet abromovitz - biodiversity and gender Issues

joni Seager - creating a culture of destruction

karen warren - ecofeminism

karen warren - taking empirical data seriously

karen warren - the power and promise of ecological feminism

l. gruen - dismantling oppression

martha e. gimenez - does ecology need marx?

n. sturgeon - the nature of race

petra kelly - women and power

quinby - ecofeminism and the politics of resistance

rosemary radford ruether - ecofeminism: symbolic and social connections

sherry ortner - is female to male as nature is to culture?

sturgeon - the nature of race

val plumwood - feminism and ecofeminism

winona laduke - a society based on conquest cannot be sustained

if anyone has any other recommendations related to eco feminism, plz let me know :)

additional resources related to trans feminism:

the empire strikes back: a posttransexual manifesto by sandy stone

(chicago journals) trapped in the wrong theory: rethinking trans oppression and resistance by talia mae bettcher

(philpapers.org) trans women and the meaning of woman by talia mae bettcher

the transgender studies reader by susan stryker and stephen whittle

if anyone has other recommendations related to trans feminism, plz let me know :)

additional resources related to anarcha feminism:

the anarchist turn by jacob blumenfeld

we will not cancel us and other dreams of transformative justice by adrienne maree brown

burn it down: feminist manifestos for the revolution by breanne fahs

reinventing anarchy, again by howard ehrlich

anarcho-blackness by marquis bey

a little philosophical lexicon of anarchism from proudhon to deleuze by daniel colson and jesse cohn

joyful militancy by nick montgomery and carla bergman

wayward lives, beautiful experiments by saidiya v. hartman

we won't be here tomorrow and other stories by margaret killjoy

writing revolution by christopher j. castaneda

paradoxes of utopia by juan suriano

twelve fingers by jo soares

for a just and better world by sonia hernandez

if anyone has other recommendations related to anarcha feminism, plz let me know :)

#feminism #intersectionalfeminist #intersectionality #anti terf #anti swerf #womens rights #marxist feminism #eco feminism #anarcha feminism #trans feminism #queer feminism #pro lgbtq+#pro disabled #pro trans #pro palestine #pro sex worker

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pulchritudinous-plants · 3 months

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ridley pearson and his inability to have his female characters actually like their appearance and instead constantly put themselves down by comparing themselves to their friends needs to be studied

#especially because it’s normally his brown characters comparing themselves to white characters #like just let willa be pretty!! let amanda be pretty!! they don’t have to think jess and charlene are more attractive than them!!#they can all be pretty!!#willa angelo #charlene turner #amanda lockhart #jessica lockhart #jess lockhart #ridley pearson #kingdom keepers

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asymm3 · 9 months

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okay so resident evil au where wesker goes "haha whoopsies" at some point and stops being a bioterrorist with plans for world domination (don't ask me how or why, i know nothing) he moves to a small town in the middle of nowhere, USA (probably the midwest) and buys up an old house to refurbish/renovate

cue the nosy neighbors (aka gertrude and her book club) who are very interested in this "nice young man" who has moved in across the street at first gertrude keeps an eye on him because she will. not. stand. for anyone to "flip" the perfectly nice house from 1920s into some minimalist monstrosity

wesker passes her expectations for the house with flying colors. she brings him a peach cobbler as a present after the house is all fixed up. he is perplexed. gertrude wants to know why he's wearing sunglasses indoors but is too polite to question. everyone has their quirks

bookclub because less bookclub and more gossiping-about-wesker club. he's such a nice, "young" man who is always nice to the cashier at the one and only grocery store (charlene's great nephew), and sticks to a meticulous routine. he gets up, goes for a run (gertrude respectfully ogles, because dear heavens that is a fine looking man and her husband, marvin god rest his soul, has been gone for 20 years), drinks his coffee on his porch, and tends to a few scraggly flower bushes.

after a couple of months and nobody else moving in, or even visiting for that matter, they assume there is no mrs. wesker in the picture. matlida wants to set him up with her daughter. gertrude kindly tells her to knock it the fuck off. mildred wants to see if she has a chance. kathy wants him to prune her like his roses bushes. gertrude threatens to withhold all her wesker-related gossip until they calm down and leave the poor man alone. the flock of vultures.

after bringing wesker some leftover chocolate chip cookies one day, gertrude kindly suggests that he might look into getting a companion of sorts. the shelter she volunteers at has lots of puppies and kittens this time of year, and he looks like he could use a friend. wesker just kinda stares blankly at her.

however, the next week he comes back with a fluffball from the shelter. it has to be the most ill-mannered, scrungliest little senior rat-dog that gertrude has ever seen. wesker pleasantly informs her that his name is titan. it's the closest to smiling that gertrude has ever seen him

life goes back to plain, boring normal until wesker is knocking at gertrude's door at 2 in the morning. she nearly has a heart attack. wesker explains that there is a personal emergency he needs to take care of out of town for a week or so and asks if she could feed/take titan out while he's gone. gertrude shushes him as he tries to pay her and tells him to go take care of whatever it is and that titan is in good hands.

wesker is gone for nearly 2 weeks. by day 3 gertrude can't wait for him to come home because titan only likes wesker. eventually they come to an understanding over some deli meat turkey. wesker returns one day but he isn't alone.

gertrude calls cletus and tells him to put mildred on the phone while she watches as a well-built, brown-haired man painfully limps from wesker's black SUV, up the sidewalk, and into the house, supported by wesker all the while.

a couple hours later she brings over some chicken noodle soup (for wesker's guest) and some of her chocolate chip cookes (for wesker). a harried wesker answers the door, his normally perfectly-gelled hair a mess, as if he'd been running his fingers through it, and his sunglasses nowhere to be seen. gertrude notices his lack of shades and says nothing, because it seems the poor dear is going through a lot at the moment, but she does note his beautiful gray eyes.

throughout the next few weeks, she continues to drop off meals every couple of days. whoever wesker's friend is, they'll need their strength to recover from their ordeal. gertrude doesn't ever see the other man, but wesker's house is uncharacteristically messy, strewn about with various medical supplies when he invites her in as he retrieves her casserole dish

after a month or so, wesker's routine finally returns to normal. one morning, the other man is seated on the porch with wesker, sipping coffee with titan curled up in his lap. gertrude whips up a quick apple crisp and casually wanders over, deli meat in hand to bribe titan

she greets the two men and tuts over the other man's injuries, who introduces himself as chris. despite his recovery thus far, chris is still visibly battered and bruised, splinted fingers stroking titan's fluffy back. titan eyes gertrude warily, but seems content to stay snuggled in chris' lap

as she converses genially with chris about the area and a bit of its history. gertrude can't help but notice the soft look on wesker's face and how his eyes never leave chris. she excuses herself after a while, giggling like a schoolgirl as she phones her bookclub later with all the details. chris and wesker find themselves inundated with homecooked meals and baked goods for the next month

gertrude stumbles upon them one night at the grocery store as she makes a late-night run for more butter. chris is doing far better, just some scars and a light limp, and she notices how close the two men are standing as they shop. she turns away to go pretend to look at fruit, but doesn't miss how wesker's hand comes up to rest in the small of chris' back. the smile doesn't leave her face as she drives home

#resident evil #resident evil au #albert wesker #chris redfield #chrisker #small town chrisker au #sig writes

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