#where we have privilege but now you dont fit in with your other race

[stickers-on-a-laptop]

This rant brought to you by Three Hours of Sleep™️

#can yall just leave white passing people in canon white passing thank you #we are aware of our whiteness #i promise #mixed kid struggles #i got asked who was adopted me or my sister when with my clearly brown dad and my white passing mom #my sister looks like dad #I look like mom #i say brown cause my dad looks mexican when with other mexicans but he could easily pass as a few other races #but i look nothing like him #im his kid tho i have his weird toes lmao #that has nothing to do with anything BUT IT DOES CAUSE I AM WHITE PASSING AND LOOK NOTHING LIKE MY DAD #THIS AFFECTED MY WHOLE LIFE BEING WHITE PASSING #NO ONE BELIEVES IM MEXICAN EVEN THO THE SECOND HALF OF MY LAST NAME IS CLEARLY LATINX #very rarely am i asked anything in spanish (which is good cause I don’t speak it well but like sometimes my sister is asked stuff) #just leave us alone #make the fully white people a different race #but being white passing is a weird thing #where we have privilege but now you dont fit in with your other race #cause you get the privilege the darker skinned people dont #but you also dont fit in with fully white people cause you are NOT FULLY WHITE NO MATTER WHAT YOUR SKIN LOOKS LIKE #i used to love summer cause i would tan and i could be like LOOK MEXICAN GENES #so stop it okay? thanks #your local mixed kid

[bjy-on-ao3]

Omg, i just read your dionysus fic, over indulgence, and holy shit, it was amazing! I really liked how you characterised him, and reader too, i just dont know what to say other than i absolutely loved it! I'd love to see more hades content! Maybe with Ares this time? He is always so smug, and somehow can be both very intimidating while staying super polite.... Im howwible with prompts, but maybe one where reader is a priestess of athena and somehow catches ares's attention?

I hope you don’t mind stuff rough.  I hope this satisfies your want for Ares, Anon!

In the game, Athena and Ares don’t seem to really like each other all that much, so I figured any priest/priestesses or disciples of her would have been warned about him. It also made sense for me that many of those people would double as great warriors/soldiers skilled at defense, but also in battle overall.If you’re looking for something warm and soft, please turn back. I really can’t see Ares in a gentle light, and this fic will contain blood/bloodplay, biting, bruising, and Ares getting a kick of out it all. Dubcon only because Reader agrees to the conditions of Ares being able to take what he wants if they lose. (As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

Tags/Warnings Biting, Blood, Bloodplay, Combat, Creampie, Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader Insert, Sadism, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex, Violent Sex

Summary Reader - priestess and champion of Athena and fresh off becoming victor of a tournament held in honor of the gods - has an encounter with the most bloodthirsty god of them all: Impressed, Ares offers them a boon should they best him in combat - though if they lose, Ares may take what he sees fit.

Fic Friday

Shieldmaiden (F! Reader/Ares)

The day had been a long and arduous one, filled to bursting with adrenaline and quick-thinking. Oft enough, your days were composed of training or ceremonies, or helping those who sought aid from the temple to Athena you served. But dawn that morning had heralded the start of a tournament lasting till Helios drove the sun beneath the horizon once more. In a way, those who fell quickly were rewarded with a reprieve from the constant bouts, as even though the humiliation of defeat burdened them.

Even on the heels of victory, by the time the battles had concluded, you were tired and sore, marred with minor bruises and a few nicks and scrapes. It was nothing that a good night’s sleep and some poultices wouldn’t solve, though. ‘All worth the honor of winning such a tournament’ you told yourself. Unlike some combatants, you hadn’t killed an opponent, seeking to shed the least blood possible. Your efficiency had no room for excess. But no amount of hard-won praise and self-satisfaction could change that you were looking forward to curling up and resting until the sun rose on a new day.

Traipsing back to the temple in the glowing purple and red twilight, however, a voice caught your attention. “I must say, your performance today was quite impressive.”

To your credit, you didn’t jump or flinch away, becoming stock still and turning slowly toward the source of the voice. “Who’s there? Whom do I have privilege of impressing?” You asked cautiously, unable to strip all the irritation from your tone. You had patience remaining, though you were loath to chat with someone over your victory when you would much rather be in your bed.

Your eyes landed on a tall figure you somehow hadn’t noticed before - a man - stance regal and straight. Something about the posture gave off a sense of nonchalance as well. Clad in armor of ivory and gold, accented with long shards of black and the eerie glaring face of a beast on the chest plate, he radiated an aura of menace, accompanied by a bloodlust so tangible you could almost taste it on your tongue, hot and bitter. Eyes like smoldering coals plucked from a roaring hearth stared at you intently.. Combined with the simper spread over his lips, you couldn’t suppress the chill that raced up your spine.

Something in your gut twisted uncomfortably, and you resisted the urge to put a few more paces between the two of you. Even if it hadn’t been for the myriad weapons crossed over his back, or the impressive armor, the man would have seemed someone to be cautious around, someone you shouldn’t trust. Everything put together set you on high alert instantly, the instinct of fight or flight rising in your chest like a bird taking wing. Something primal shrieked at you that, for once, flight might be the preferred choice.

“You fight rather viciously for one under my dear sister’s wing,” the man mused, his tone light, but formal.

“I asked before - who are you?” you pressed again, not interested in mincing words. You didn’t like how easily he spoke to you or offhandedly disparaged your goddess.

“Oh, no hesitation to be found. Perhaps Athena neglected to impart all of her wisdom to you after all.” you bristled at the insult, taking a deep breath and trying to relieve some of the tension coursing through you. “I am Ares, and I desired to see the prowess of my sister’s little owl before my own eyes.”

‘Little owl?’ the nickname distracted you at first, thinking to the tiny owls often depicted accompanying your Lady, but you shook your head and dismissed the thought. You hadn’t the time to concern yourself with foolish nicknames. “Lord Ares? Well, I have no desire to see you, my Lord,” you said. With the revelation of his identity, you felt even more uneasy. Ares, god of war and death, who was said to bask in the bloodshed and chaos of man. Athena had been certain her followers knew well of her violent half-brother. “I may not have all of my Lady’s knowledge, but I am wise enough to keep my distance from you and the needless death that follows in your wake.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, wary of each word and wondering if he might take offense from your rejection. From the tales told, the Olympians never took well to being ignored or spurned, but to indulge in the company of a god like Ares was no more appealing a choice. The look on Ares’ face remained pleasant, the corners of his lips set in a smug smile, and he let out a quick puff of laughter that would have been pleasant, had it not come from him.

“What a pity. Although I do not believe that choice is yours to make, little owl,” he began, closing some distance between you. You followed his movements intently, concerned he might draw one of the swords from his back and set upon you with every step closer. “Surely you do not think yourself beyond the bidding of one god solely because you serve another?”

Your hands clenched and unclenched nervously at your sides as you considered his words. Ares was right, of course. Being a priestess of Athena did not grant you any protection from other gods - not unless she interfered directly. And that kind of divine intervention was a rarity. You avoided his question and changed the subject, though you doubted he would be redirected so easily. The God of War was no fool.

“What do you really want? I’ve little time for games, my Lord.”

“I wish to see your technique for myself. Show me how that passion and diligence fares against a foe more than mortal,” he elaborated.

The blood in your veins ran cold upon his admission and your heart thudded so hard you wondered if it was audible from where he stood. Battling a god was firmly on the side of things you wished never to do. “If you think I’m dull enough that I would willingly engage the God of War, then you insult me, my Lord,” you said stiffly, trying to suppress your trepidation from worming into your voice and failing.

“What is it I hear beneath your bold tone? I trust one of my dear sister’s bold little priestesses, one of her champions, even, is not afraid of all things?” Ares taunted smoothly. From the way his self-assured smile twitched upward, barely, you knew he was enjoying your reaction.

“Fear and caution are not the same thing,” you denied fiercely.

“True enough, but it is not caution what gives you pause. If it puts you at ease, little owl, I will not take your life.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you scrutinized him intensely, finding no sign of whether he was lying or being genuine. All you found in those bloody eyes and stony face was cold calculation and an insatiable lust for violence. “Why should I believe you?” you asked, face twisting suspiciously.

“Because, beloved by my sister or not, if I so desired to kill you, I would have done so the instant you denied my invitation and spoke to me so disrespectfully.” He talked of ending you so casually it made you shudder, and you cursed yourself for it immediately.

It seemed you had little choice but to indulge Ares in whatever game he had in mind. “And if I agree - what is the benefit to me?” Ares had promised he wouldn’t kill you, but you saw no other purpose to fight him. You still weren’t sure he wouldn’t just kill you, despite his promise.

“Is serving one of the gods not benefit enough for you? What a greedy little owl my sister has found.” Again, Ares taunted you. You wondered if he was trying to make you angry enough to divest your caution and sabotage your battle prowess.

“That’s not an answer,” you spat back. God or not, you were tiring of whatever he was doing.

Fortunately, Ares cut to the chase. “Very well, best me and you shall have whatever boon of me you wish.”

“And if I lose?”

“Then, I shall take from you what I decide most fitting.:

“But not my life,” you added, still skeptical.

“You have my word,” Ares insisted. “Besides, would it not be such a waste to douse a promising ember when it could kindled and made to burn all around it?” he added in afterthought and once again the implications of his words unsettled you. “Now, I trust we are done with these tedious negotiations, hm?” he prompted.

Steeling yourself and willing away the stiffness and fear bubbling in your chest, you nodded. Ares had decided what the outcome of the discussion would be before he first spoke. There was nothing more to be said - at least not with words. Eyes trained on the intimidating figure of the God of War, you retrieved the shield and blade slung over your shoulders. You brandished them both, falling into the stance you were trained to use.

Across from you - hardly half a dozen feet off - Ares drew a weapon of his own. The sight of the curved blade incited your fear once more. The black blade was a ghastly thing, wickedly sharp and emanating a thick, billowing red haze the color of viscera. It was unmistakably a weapon befitting a god, and it made something deep inside you want to turn tail and run. But you knew running would be fruitless - all it would earn you was a head-sized loss of weight between your shoulders.

 At once, the both of you moved slowly, following a wide circle, two shadowy beasts in the fading dusk searching for weaknesses and flaws. All of your training and wisdom told you to wait, let Ares come to you and make the first move. But you weren’t sure your reactive way of fighting would hold up against someone of his calibre. As Ares had implied, he was no mortal, and you could only imagine the horrible strength and skill behind his blade.

Ares shattered the heavy stillness abruptly, darting forward and making a low arcing swing up toward you. There was no hesitation behind the blow and you had the feeling if you hadn’t stopped it with your blade, his falcata would have carved a clean line into your torso. Ares may have promised not to kill you, but he wasn’t above grievously injuring you. He gave you little time to think on his intentions, however, another strike quickly following when you knocked his sword aside.

You caught that swing as well, on your shield this time, and your arm stung from the force that rang through it. Blow after blow rained down on you, forcing you on the defensive almost constantly, and even then, many near misses made you tense and wide-eyed. Eventually, you found some rhythm to his assault, and Ares even paused, granting you a scant few seconds to breathe and think. Still, you needed to analyze what you learned quickly - your enduring method of fighting wouldn’t suit well against his relentless onslaught. You had fought aggressive attackers in the past, but their strength and ferocity paled compared to Ares.

Eyes flashing to and fro, following the tuck and arc of his weapon, at the same time searching for openings, you readied to strike. You would need to be swift, perfect in your timing, and hold back nothing if you wanted any hope of breaching his flurry of blows. You took your chance when his fuming blade glanced off your shield at just the right angle to slide away, instead of adding more to the numbness in your shield arm. Dipping down, you swept your own blade under his arm and up. The metal scraped past one of his pauldrons and up, and your eyes shot wider when the tip of the blade reached out towards Ares’ face.

A swift kick pushed you back, leaving you winded, and you looked back up quickly. Ares was standing in place, a small distance away, but close enough to observe small details. His blade upheld in one hand, smoking menacingly, he lifted his free hand to his cheek, brushing away the slick of blood oozing from a diagonal cut across his cheek.Your heart fell at the sight of how little damage you had done. After all that time, you had given him what was barely more than what a mortal mine might suffer from a shaving accident. It was an ill omen when you were so used to your blade striking true and dispatching opponents in only a few strokes.

“Oh, what a splendid surprise.” Your blood may as well have turned to ice. Not at Ares’ words, but his tone.

Beneath the refined and formal speech, something almost excited could be heard. You had the sudden dreadful feeling that indulging the God of War’s little game had been a terrible mistake - even if  there was no other choice. Excitement was a chilling thing to hear from a being who adored violence and death. You had expected anger, perhaps, or bitterness that a mortal had drawn blood against him. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been a shock he liked to bleed as much as he liked to bleed others.

“Perhaps I underestimated you, little owl. Such skill seems wasted protecting others, do you not think so?” Ares asked, the hint of excitement vanished.

An indignation bubbled up beneath your dread, understanding Ares had meant your talents better suited to bloody slaughter and resenting that notion. You bristled, snapping back at him. “If I agreed, I would have served from the start, wouldn’t I?”

Ares ignored your response, as if he hadn’t heard. “I have seen more than enough, little owl. Our duel shall come to an end now,” he declared confidently. Again resentment and terror warred with one another within you.

When Ares bolted forward again, you barely thrust out your sword in time and turned his strike aside. The eerie cloud emanating from the blade seemed to have increased, tendrils of it whipping about, framing Ares ominously and obscuring your vision here and there.  He didn’t stop at a single blow, striking out again and again as before, but with much more strength behind the attacks. The thought that your weapon and shield or arms might shatter from the force if things kept up flitted through your mind, distracting you for the barest moment.

Ares’ blade flashed forward, and your shield was thrust away, spinning through the air before crashing down and clattering to the ground. In a lightning quick motion, before you could bring your blade in to force his falcata away, the edge was leveled to your throat. You fell deathly still, the icy blade faintly touching your skin. One false move or a twitch of Ares’ wrist and all would be done.

The war god moved closer, grabbing your sword hand cruelly and twisting your blade from your fist. The hand that had disarmed you snapped to your head, grabbing a fistful of hair at the root and making you hiss. He drew your head back and the painful pinch of his blade scarcely cutting your skin made your pulse quicken. A warm trickle crept down your skin. Held between Ares’ hand and his blade, you dared not even breathe too deeply, so close were you to both.

Burning crimson watched you keenly, blazing with triumph and thet still unquenchable lust for blood. The blood you seeping from the shallow cut on your throat encouraged that bloodlust to greater heights rather than sate it. The thought made the space between you and the god feel heavy, airless.

“You fought magnificently, little owl. A far greater challenge even than I had foreseen,” Ares praised, not bothering to draw his weapon back. The tension hanging in the air, in fact, seemed thoroughly amusing to him, alluring even. You gathered all the resolve you possessed, fighting to glare defiantly at him. There was no room to show weakness. “How lovely that look suits you. Fearful, yet masked in defiance, even in the very face of death,” he drawled. You wondered if the god enjoyed his own voice as much as he enjoyed bloodshedl. “Do you believe me a liar?” Ares asked coolly after a moment of unsettling silence.

“I-” you opened your mouth intending to disagree, to ensure him you believed him - even if you didn’t trust him in the slightest -, but something stopped you. “Yes.” As the word escaped, you cursed yourself.

To your surprise, Ares’ proud smile grew. “Such an unwise thing to say,” he mused, “Are you trying to provoke me, now, little owl?” he asked nonchalantly, applying the scantest amount more pressure to his haze billowing blade. You winced, but quickly corrected your expression until your focus was on Ares once more. “No matter, our duel is over. Now comes time to take what I deem ample compensation for my victory.” At last, Ares drew back and took his falcata with him, and you could breathe again.

The start of a cold sweat broke out on your skin, and you felt clammy, except for the hot, sticky trickle drying on your neck. You swallowed thickly, willing your tongue to obey you, and spoke again after a moment of recovery. “So, what do you want? Out with it.” you pressed, perhaps too demandingly for one whom had been in your previous position. Yet with the blade no longer threatening to carve your throat open, you couldn’t help the annoyance and unease that crept into you.

“Tread carefully, little owl. I spared you before,” Ares reminded you casually, though the sharp warning edge suffused his words. He would take your insolence only so far. “Continue to disrespect me and I shall take your words as invitation to grant you a most painful end.” He paused, slipping his dark blade back where it belonged, before turning to you. “As the spoils of my victory, this ought to suffice.”

In an instant, so quick you had no time to wonder what had come over him, Ares was upon you again. His hand, having previously disengaged when he took his weapon away, returned, entangling itself in your hair again and forcing you to remain still. Before you knew it, Ares stepped uncomfortably close, bowing his head and slashing his lips across yours in a kiss that was neither delicate nor considerate. It was a kiss fueled by strength, full of teeth and heat that left you in a stupor.

Ares didn’t bother with the tedious task of coaxing your lips open with his tongue, choosing to bite down viciously, and blood oozed out to meet him. It slicked his teeth and tongue and your mouth fell open in a gasp of pain, and Ares thrust his tongue into your mouth.  It swept along your teeth for a moment, before wrapping around your own and fighting it into submission. A heady metallic taste washed over you as you futilely tried to win the war of flesh. Blood. Your blood. Mixed with the coppery flavor was something more subtle, spicy and earthy at once.

When Ares relented and pulled away, you strove for breath, the taste of him and your blood lingering in your mouth. But he had only begun, giving you little time to recover. You had long enough to question why you had kissed him back - or had you been trying to fight him off? - before he jerked your head back and inclined his faced further. His lips, hot and the barest bit sticky, met the curve of your throat. He swept down your skin, leaving angry bite marks and blotches in his wake, until he was nestled against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, unprotected by armor and bared by your tunic.

He bit down again. Harder than before, and his teeth sank into you, another rush of blood welling up.You couldn’t control the pained cry that burst from your lips. You were used to injuries from training or battle, yet hardly in such sensitive places, and almost never from someone’s teeth. It burned when Ares lapped greedily at the wound and you hissed. His free hand had curled behind you at some time you hadn’t noticed, pressing you forward, the unyielding planes of his chest plate and pauldrons digging into you uncomfortable.

A new sensation was blossoming beneath the pain, one that should have been utterly foreign and unthinkable, given the brutality Ares was treating you with. Maybe it was the burning, hungry expression in Ares' eyes as he looked up from your skin, lips tinged red. Or maybe it was the crushing embrace he held you trapped in. Or maybe the way he held you utterly compliant and vulnerable in his grasp. Or maybe it was all of those things combined that made heat fill you from your core and pool between your legs. A dangerous, confused lust was rising - one it would have been wiser to reject.

“Such splendid sounds, little owl,” Ares said, his voice lower, a wild delight tinging it. “I desire to hear more. Do not disappoint me.”

With a rough push, your feet left the ground, and you tumbled backward away from Ares’ grip, too startled and dazed from the confounding feeling brewing in your belly and the painful throbbing in your lip and shoulder to catch yourself in time. You grimaced when you met the ground, making to prop yourself up. But Ares followed you, shoving you down completely and pinning you there. Again, his armor prodded uncomfortably at you. Past the pleated leather folds attached to the armor torso, something still distinctly hard, but much warmer prodded at you as well.

When large hands groped at your tunic -  somehow both callous and perfect - some degree of sense insisted you stop him. But others argued with it. They insisted there was no point, this was the spoils Ares chose to claim. You wouldn’t be able to stop him if you tried. One devilish voice even craved more. Your internal debate crashed to a halt when Ares jerked your tunic down, the faint sound of fabric ripping lost to you. His lips fell upon your skin again where the fabric fell away, biting and sucking like he was trying to devour you. Many of them stung, not all as harsh as the bite to your shoulder, but several more drawing blood or leaving the areas soon to bruise, painting your skin in garish colors.

More pained sounds left your lips, gasps and whimpers and groans, though mixing more steadily into them were noises that belied some twisted pleasure. A hiss that became a moan. A gasp that turned into something breathy and thick. Something was stirring more and more hotly within you, transforming pain into a muted pleasure and adding fuel to the embers smoldering between your legs and in your belly.

Ares’ hands were as greedy as his lips, groping and kneading unmarred skin, roughly grabbing at your chest, pinching your nipples and making you cry out pitifully. Before long, he had covered your torso, shoulders, and neck in darkening bruises and blood, teeth marks and scrapes. Pulling away until he was looming over you like an ominous shadow, you could still make out the satisfied look languidly spread across his lips. His eyes seemed even more fiery, near crazed, as if he were high on your blood and pain.

“Such a careful, focused beast in the heat of battle. Now look at you, little owl, stained and trembling,” he purred, and his tongue trailed over his lips, cleaning the crimson staining them. “How beautiful a sight. The color suits you well.” He grabbed at your tunic some more, gathering the bottom around your waist, meeting the neckline he had pushed down. “As fragile and easy to see through as glass. Ought I shatter you like it, then?” Ares asked, greedily taking in the even larger expanse of flesh revealed to him. You wondered if he meant to litter the rest of you in similar marks.

Your lips parted, and you didn’t speak for a second, waiting for the mental gears to  turn. Your only choice was the illusion of it, so you may as well as pretend your answer meant something. “Break me as you please, Lord Ares,” you told him, surprised to hear how your voice sounded. Strain and breathy, and the realization strengthened the heat and wetness at your center you couldn’t deny, likely plain to Ares’ eyes with your tunic no longer guarding it.

“How bold a choice of words, little owl.” Ares sounded pleased, possibly having expected you to retort defiantly, or have no words at all. Yet you had indulged his words instead. He trailed a thick finger gingerly over your throat, tracing over your racing pulse. “It would thrill me so to watch the life bleed from you.” You believed him completely. There was no denying in different circumstances Ares would revel in your death. “Alas, I shall have to make do sheathing a different blade within your supple flesh.”

A hint of excited impatience shone through as Ares sat back on his knees, leaving you to lie waiting in the dirt for what he would do next. With an iron grip, he grabbed your thighs, lifting them both off the ground and splaying them over his pauldrons, on either side of the crossed blades on his back. The cold touch of his armor on your overheated, abused skin made you shudder, and you watched as he lifted the lappets of the armor.  

Your eyes lingered on what had thrust against you from behind layers of leather before, and you swallowed nervously. Ares was endowed impressively and in the embrace of a gentle lover that might promise a minor discomfort, but pleasure overall. Ares had shown no intention to treat you gently though - the ache and throb from the aftermath of his attention reinforced that - and you were under no illusion he was going to change that.

The new hesitation must have shown in your expression, a dangerous thrill creeping onto Ares’ own face as he brought the head of his cock to your folds. You thanked the stars that his brutal attentions had somehow elicited a perverse hunger from you, soaking your core. Though you imagined he would have fucked you raw whether or not you were wet. In fact, he might have enjoyed it more that way. Fortunately, his dick slipped slickly between your lips, gathering some of your wetness and pushing against your slit.

Ares didn’t take his time entering you, nor savor the moment, bucking his hips forward and splitting your cunt wide. You arched your back stiffly and hissed, both at the awful burn from the way his cock stretched you and the surprising satisfaction from the overwhelming fullness. You drew deep breaths, trying to adjust to the thick intrusion, fighting the pathetic whines that threatened to spill out.

Ares didn’t give you time to adjust to his size, rutting harshly against you, calloused hands digging roughly into your thighs. He leaned forward, bending you nearly in half, far enough a tendril of his silvery white hair brushed against your stomach, making your skin jump. The stretch ached to be sure - it would have even if Ares had been more thoughtful - but caught up in whatever perverse mood electrified the moment, there was pleasure bleeding into the pain.

Pleasure from the way he filled you so completely, creating a delicious friction that made your gut heat and tense. Pleasure from the rough slant of his hips against yours and his balls slapping your ass. Pleasure from the renewed vigor and sting of his lips and teeth attacking your neglected skin once more. It was agonizing and mindnumbing and enjoyable in a way you couldn’t have had any hope of explaining, at least not in a right sense of mind.

Each hard rock of his hips and searing puff of breath against your skin wore away at what little pride you retained, if you could claim to have any scrap left, looking such a mess. You might regret the memory later, but in the heat of the moment, there was no time for regrets or second thoughts. There was only room to try and enjoy what Ares had claimed as his reward.

As your dignity shattered and disintegrated like dust, the heat of your body and between your thighs grew, until you cried out into the air, the pleasure finally rising high enough to meet the pain and break loose from your throat between whines and winces. One loud cry that twisted and broke from another especially vicious bite must have gotten to Ares, eliciting an answering sound that was deep and primal.

Continuing to pound into your cunt, Ares looked up from his savagery of your skin, eyes glittering with amsement and lust of multiple kinds. His hot breath rolled over your bruised chest and his silky words rumbled over you. “You ought to thank me for my mercy,” he growled, and amidst the pain and pleasure you laughed to yourself. Mercy for a war god amounted simply to not killing you it seemed, even if the alternative was marking your body viciously and claiming it for himself. “Go on, then, little owl,” he compelled you, puncutating his words with a harder buck of his hips that left made you shout.

You opened your mouth, at first only pants and huffs and whimpers broke away. You gathered the words on your tongue he demanded of you. “Th-thank...aah...thank you, Lord Ares!” you cried out, surprisingly yourself. “Thank you f-for sparing me.”

He seemed satisfied with you pitiful answer, shaky and broken as it was, though he remained close to your skin. His pace grew stronger, faster, and he drew his tongue over some of the more bloody marks he’d left behind, coating his tongue again in your essence. His eyes swept hotly over his handiwork, bordering on frenzied. “Is it not such a wondrous feeling, to break bleed so, little owl?”

The smooth, husky tone of his voice, though it spoke such sick words - words you would have rejected in another setting - drove your own fervor higher, the molten spring of tension in your abdomen coming to the edge of its breaking point. You responded without hesitation, mind bent only on the promised releasen. “Yes, yes, my Lord!”

No more words fell between the two of you then, only the primal symphony of moans, grunts, groans, and gasps, enough to be heard by any soul unfortunate enough to be passing nearby. You hadn’t thought Ares’ thrusts could become any crueler, but as he chased and neared his own release, they did, until each thrust stung, hurting almost more than they pleased. His hands still clenched around your thighs and you could only imagine the intensity of the bruises that would be left behind - perhaps even worse than the many peppering your neck and chest and torso.

Despite the pain, your cunt squeezed around him, fluttering erratically as you danced on that edge so, so close. Until at last, it burst. But not before Ares finished with a sound so dark and heavy and alluring it could be called inhuman. Your walls embraced him even tighter as his cum filled you to overflowing, hot and wet, and you screamed and cried into the darkness of evening that had taken over.

When all was still at last, youtruly began to feel the extent of the damage Ares had done. He didn’t remain atop you much longer, not seeming to need to catch his breath, and when he pulled out of you, you shuddered, feeling sore and empty. Already tired before Ares had sought you out, and even more so after your combat, you were completely and utterly exhausted. Lying there, each pound of your heart making the bites and bruises pound along with it, you wondered if passing out in the dirt was a viable option.

Ares didn’t concern himself with your thoughts, however, or whatever it was you intended to do now that he was finished with you - for now at least. He just looked down at you, tucking himself back beneath the lappets of his armor and looking no worse for the wear. “Farewell, little owl. Do take care. And consider what I have said,” he began. “Your talents ought be used for something far more satisfying.”

You didn’t answer, letting your eyelids slide closed for a minute. When you opened them again, you were alone and the air was still and silent. You begrudgingly sat up, preparing to tackle the ordeal of standing and making the rest of your way home and to your bed. You wondered how you were going to explain your state to your fellows the following day.

#writing #fanfic #areas #ao3 #archive of our own #fic friday #update #weekly #request #anon request #tw: blood #tw: dubious consent

[auditionsuggestions]

Passing, Passed Over, and Casting for Optics Over Authenticity

This has been on my mind for a while. And after the ABSOLUTLEY AWFUL DAY I HAD where this came into play, I'm saying things. This will mainly be talking about my perspective as a Hispanic person who passes as white on occasion (Less so when I have a tan, that's for certain). I get a lot of the "so where are you from/what are you" because I'm "ethnically ambiguous." But, I have a feeling some of the thoughts I express will be relatable to other hispanics that are mixed with other races (shout out to all the AAPI-Hispanic and Black-Hispanic and MENASA-Hispanic folks out there).

And just a quick note, I personally prefer "Hispanic" over "Latino" but if you don't, just sub in "Latino" every time I use "Hispanic."

Now on to the rant.

What's been nice to see so far is the push in the theatre community toward more inclusive and diverse casting. Let me start off by saying, I am FULLY for this movement. Cast your shows to look like the world today! If someone complains, that's their problem and they need to work on their suspension of disbelief.

However, theatre is also a business. And I find that businesses will do the least work possible to try and get the most reward. So, what do I mean by "casting for optics. " Generally, I mean tokenism. Not that the ensemble isn't important (they can make or break a show), but when you are filling out your ensemble diversely, but your principals/leads are all white--it begins to feel like the casting of the ensemble was done the way it was just to get "woke" points. And this is where we get to the feeling of being passed over. Speaking from my perspective, being mixed Puerto Rican and Irish, I find that those of use who aren't white enough to be white, but aren't brown enough to be brown get overlooked or ignored because we don't fit whatever arbitrary quota seems to implicitly exist. Furthermore, it is straight up offensvie to have one's latinidad questioned and for people who think because they "look" or "can pass for" or are "mistaken for" us in life or on stage that makes them just as entitled to roles portraying our culture and history.

Hell, maybe directors don't even realize they're doing it when they do. In which case, I ask white actors who "look Hispanic," please use your privilege and refuse roles that should go to actual Hispanics. Directors, dont' forget those of us who don't fit neatly into the "looking hispanic" archetype when casting. Cast for authenticity, not optics (also, just cause I've seen someone actually attempt this argument: Italians are not Latino).

#musical theatre #casting #broadway #long post #rant

[kpop-pick-me-up]

How to loosely gauge where you stand on the privilege scale.

Everybody has some sort of privilege over someone else. It doesn't make you a bad person to have privilege. What makes you a bad person, is not being aware that you have a privilege and criticizing those who have less privilege than you for calling you out on it. So here is a very loose way to find out how much privilege you have. Feel free to add more questions in the comments I'll add them in!

Create a small "staircase" by laying out 21 pieces of paper on the floor, or just 21 small objects to mark the steps. (Have extra in case you need to add as you go)

Start by standing by/on the middle one.

Ask yourself these questions:

Am I white? If yes, take two steps up the stairs. If not, take two steps back.

I am female. If not, take one step forward, if yes take one step back.

I am straight. If yes, take on step forward. If not, take one step back.

I am naturally thin/fit and have no difficulty finding my size in stores or seeing models and celebrities that have similar body types to mine. If true, take a step forward and if false, take one back.

I am christrian. If true, take one step up, if false take one step back.

I live, and always have lived, in a safe neighborhood where I felt no danger on a regular basis. If true, take one step forward. If false, take one step back.

I have never been discriminated against because of my race, religion, or sexuality. Discrimination meaning; in the workplace, school, unprompted on the streets etc. If true, take one step forward and if false, one step back.

I can walk down to the street during the day freely without fear of being called out or attacked. If true, take one step forward. If false, take one step back.

I have a caring and loving family. If yes, take one step forward. If not, take one step back.

I have access to fresh foods that aren't canned, bagged, or prepackaged regularly, and never had to wonder when my next meal would be. If true, take a step forward. If false, take a step back.

I have never been scared of/had my power, cable, water, or electricity turned off because of insufficient funds. If true, take one step forward. If false, take one step back.

My parents/grandparents offer to help/Currently help pay some of my bills or funding. If true, take a step forward. If not, take a step back.

I have never not had a warm bed to sleep in, or a roof over my head. If true, take a step forward and if false take a step back.

I have access to things like the internet regularly, and the ability to further and choose my education if I wished to. If yes, take a step forward, if not take a step back.

I am transgender. Of true, take a step back. If false, take a step forward.

The top of the staircase is success. The higher up you are the easier it's achievable, the less stairs you have to trudge up to get there. You should notice by now you're probably rotating between the same 3-4 steps. Or you're continuously moving forward, or continuously moving backwards. This is where you loosely stand on the privileged staircase. If you're at the top, you are very privileged. It doesn't mean life is perfect or you've never been sad, it just means society has no reason to hold you back, and true oppression will never happen. You have little to no steps to climb. If you're at the bottom you don't experience any privilege in today's society. You are forced to trudge up every step, through every barrier to even just see the top. If your still directly in the middle, you're more privileged than some, and less than others. You get the gist.

This is just to make you more self aware and understand that you don't have to have a perfect life to be privileged, that having privilege doesn't make you a bad person. It means you need to be aware of the privileges you have and how it effects those that DONT have the same ones. To grab their hands and say "you're a person like me, I'll support you in whatever you need to do. I understand I'm privileged and that somethings may be harder for you even if I don't understand it. So please lead the way so I know how to use my privilege to make this better for you. To be equals. You have the floor because I know nothing about what it's like. "

You do NOT put yourself on a pedestal and say "I'm more privileged I'll be their hero."

You do NOT treat them like a disease or that there is something wrong with them and they need help all the time.

You ask them what it's like, you LISTEN to what they have to say with all of your attention because in this time, you don't completely understand and you never will. They are strong, independent beautiful people who don't need saving. Many of them have climbed from the bottom of the steps to the top and deserve every fucking second of praise and reward they recieve. They just need support and friendship. They need RESPECT. They need you to gently grasp their hand as they pass you in the steps, give them a part on the back and say "you're so fucking strong keep pushing yourself." And by listening to their stories when they pause on your step to rest and sharing them as they are said to you word for word is the only way to ever even think of changing the staircase.

You can be angry with where you stand. I want you to be angry. I want you to scream and rage and cry and say "this isnt fair" and then SCREAM EVEN LOUDER. if youre at the top I want you to be angry. I want you to be so mad that you use what you have to understand those below you, o want you to be so mad that you jump off the fucking staircase and say "how the fuck do I break it?" If you're at the bottom I want you to say "SCREW this staircase" and climb the railing to your own success. I want you to find a way to climb without it. To say "Fuck the stair case" and soar because you have just as much potential as the person in front of you and deserve to live and be happy.

Maybe we can never change it. Maybe we are stuck on this stupid staircase, so you give up and ignore it all together. But if we do that we won't ever know if we can weaken the cement holding it together. We never will know if maybe part of the staircase gets cut off or someone gets a chance to hop up a step.

But the first step? (The most difficult for some) is to acknowledge where you stand, and do something about it.

Edit: since I got some feedback Id like to make a couple things clear.

This isn't an exact placement. It's a social exercise. It helps people humble themselves or become more self/socially aware. The act of taking a step forward while knowing someone has to take a step back or even WATCHING someone else take a step back is enough to make a person think. It simply gives you an idea that: "maybe this DOES negatively impact people" or "I take that for granted." It's not an exact place. Of course, if you wanted an exact place you'd need to be severely tested, create multiple staircases for individual topics and then do math to find the average of where you stand. That's not what this is about. It's the action itself.

I would also like to mention that this is just a very basic outline. You can take this game and alter it, use it for specific topics like jobs, mental health, lgbtq+ etc. It's all up to you the questions you ask. Whenever I play this game I always start asking random questions I've seen discussed in the media to see how things going on effect those around me. There will be a couple questions I add up there because they are good valid questions, you can also simply create more and ask yourself them in the moment. Just like how the real world is there are no set structures or rules, just a basic outline.

Also, someone decided to comment on my Grammer and how I worded the questions lmao. I really don't care because posts like these are just brain dumps. They're stuff I just write out quickly on my phone and document for my own sanity. I often don't have the time to sit an plan out brain dumps they just happen, and I have to post them within the time constraints I have. For example I had to write this in less than ten minutes. I also never reread brain dumps because then I end up deleting them. So trust me, I know the grammar isn't great for any of my brain dump posts but that's what they are, dumps. This is just something I do to help connect with people since I have a lot of communication issues and difficulty understanding people, thoughts etc. This game and my brain dumps are how I get through them.

Please, if you think of any good questions feel free to add them in the comments or reblog with more. Check for new questions in the comments.

Again, don't take this too seriously, it's a brain dump and very quickly written. I never expect any brain dumps to get attention, so I feel no need correct grammar or make sure everything is 100% perfect all the time. I just write and go so I can focus on my task at hand. It's that simple.

#lgbt #lgbtq community #lgbtpride #lgbtq #equality #rasicm #privilege #white priviledge #bts scenarios #nct reactions #stray kids #makeadifference #speakup #acknowledge #tumblr #game #personality test

[red-will]

I don't know what to do with good white people.

I've been surrounded by good white people my whole life. Good white people living in my neighborhood, who returned our dog when he got loose; good white teachers in elementary school who pushed books into my hands; good white professors at Stanford, a Bay Area bastion of goodwhiteness, who recommended me M.F.A. programs where I met good white writers, liberal enough for a Portlandia sketch.

I should be grateful for this. Who, in generations of my family, has ever been surrounded by so many good white people? My mother was born to sharecroppers in Louisiana; she used to measure her feet with a piece of string because they could not try on shoes in the store. She tells me of a white policeman who humiliated her mother by forcing her to empty her purse on the store counter just so he could watch her few coins spiral out.

Two summers ago, my mother showed me the welfare reports written about her family. The welfare officer, a white woman, observed my family with a careful, anthropological eye. She described the children, including my mother, as "nice and clean." She asked personal questions (did my grandmother have a boyfriend?) and wrote her findings in a detached tone. She wondered why my grandmother, an illiterate Black mother of nine living in the Jim Crow South, struggled to find a steady job. Maybe, she wrote in her loopy scrawl, my grandmother wasn't searching hard enough.

This faded report is the type of official document a historian might consult if he were re-constructing the story of my family. The author, this white welfare officer, writes as if she is an objective observer, but she tells a well-worn story of Black women who refuse to work and instead depend on welfare. Occasionally, her clinical tone breaks down. Once, she notes that my mother is pretty. She probably considered herself a good white person.

In the wake of the Darren Wilson non-indictment, I've only deleted one racist Facebook friend. This friend, as barely a friend as a high school classmate can be, re-posted a rant calling rioters niggers. (She was not a good white person.) Most of my white friends have responded to recent events with empathy or outrage. Some have joined protests. Others have posted Criming While White stories, a hashtag that has been criticized for detracting from Black voices. Look at me, the hashtag screams, I know that I am privileged. I am a good white person. Join me and remind others that you are a good white person too.

Over the past two weeks, I've seen good white people congratulate themselves for deleting racist friends or debating family members or performing small acts of kindness to Black people. Sometimes I think I'd prefer racist trolling to this grade of self-aggrandizement. A racist troll is easy to dismiss. He does not think decency is enough. Sometimes I think good white people expect to be rewarded for their decency. We are not like those other white people. See how enlightened and aware we are? See how we are good?

Over the past two weeks, I have fluctuated between anger and grief. I feel surrounded by Black death. What a privilege, to concern yourself with seeming good while the rest of us want to seem worthy of life.

When my father was a young man, he was arrested at gunpoint. He was a Deputy District Attorney at the time, driving home one night from bible study when LAPD pulled him over. A traffic violation, he'd thought, until officers swarmed his car with shotguns aimed at his head. The cops refused to look in his wallet at his badge. They cuffed him and threw him on the curb.

My father is mostly thankful that he'd stayed calm. In his shock, he had done nothing. That's what he believes saved his life.

I think about this while I watch Eric Garner die. For months, I avoided the video, until we arrived at another officer non-indictment. Now I've seen the video of Garner's death, as well as a second video I find even more disturbing. This second video, taken immediately after Garner has been killed by a banned chokehold, shows officers attempting to speak to him, asking him to respond to EMTs. They do not yet know that he is dead, and there's something about this moment, officers shuffling around as an EMT seeks a pulse, that is so bafflingly and frustratingly human, so different from the five officers lunging and wrangling Garner to the ground.

In the wake of this non-indictment, a surprising coalition of detractors has emerged. Not just black and brown students hitting the streets in protest but conservative stalwarts, like Bill O'Reilly or John Boehner, criticizing the lack of justice. Even George W. Bush weighed in, calling the grand jury's decision "sad." But even though many find Garner's death wrong, others refuse to believe that race played a role. His death was the result of overzealous policing, a series of bad individual choices. It would have happened to a white guy. The same way in Cleveland, a 12-year-old Black boy named Tamir Rice was killed by officers for playing with a toy gun. An unfortunate tragedy, but not racial. Any white kid playing with a realistic-looking toy gun would have been killed too.

Darren Wilson has been unrepentant about taking Mike Brown's life. He insists he could not have done anything differently. Daniel Pantaleo has offered condolences to the Garner family, admitting that he "feels very bad" about Garner's death.

"It is never my intention to harm anyone," he said.

I don't know which is worse, the unrepentant killer or the man who insists to the end that he meant well.

A year ago, outside the Orange County airport, a white woman cut in front of me at the luggage check. She had been standing next to me, and soon as the luggage handlers called next, she swooped up her things and went to the counter. She'd cut me because I was black. Or maybe because I was young. Maybe she was running late for her flight or maybe she was just rude. She would've cut me if I had been a white woman like her. She would've cut me if I had been anyone.

Of course, the woman ended up on my flight, and of course, she was seated right next to me. Before the flight took off, she turned to me and said, "I'm sorry if I cut you earlier. I didn't see you standing there."

I often hear good white people ask why people of color must make everything about race, as if we enjoy considering racism as a motivation. I wish I never had to cycle through these small interactions and wonder: Am I overthinking? Am I just being paranoid? It's exhausting.

"It was a lot simpler in the rural South," my mother tells me. "White people let you know right away where you stood."

The problem is that you can never know someone else's intentions. And sometimes I feel like I live in a world where I'm forced to parse through the intentions of people who have no interest in knowing mine. A grand jury believed that Darren Wilson was a good officer doing his job. This same grand jury believed than an eighteen-year-old kid in a monstrous rage charged into a hailstorm of bullets toward a cop's gun.

Wilson described Michael Brown as a black brute, a demon. No one questioned Michael Brown's intentions. A stereotype does not have complex, individual motivations. A stereotype, treated as such, can be forced into whatever action we expect.

I spent a four hour flight trying not to wonder about the white woman's intentions. But why would she think about mine? She didn't even see me.

In elementary school, my older sister came home one day crying. She had learned about the Ku Klux Klan in class that day and she was afraid that men in white hoods would attack us. My father told her there was nothing to worry about.

"If a Klansman sat at this table right now," he said, "I'd laugh right in his face."

My mother tells stories of Klansmen riding at night, of how her grandmother worried when the doctor's son—a white boy—visited her youngest sister because she feared the Klan would burn down their home. When I was a child, I only saw the Klan in made-for-TV civil rights movies or on theatrical episodes of Jerry Springer. My parents knew what we would later learn, that in the nineties, in our California home, surrounded by good white people, we had more to fear than racism that announces itself.

We all want to believe in progress, in history that marches forward in a neat line, in transcended differences and growing acceptance, in how good the good white people have become. So we expect racism to appear, cartoonishly evil like a Disney villain. As if a racist cop is one who wakes in the morning, twirling his mustache and rubbing his hands together as he plots how to destroy black lives.

I don't think Darren Wilson or Daniel Pantaleo set out to kill Black men. I'm sure the cops who arrested my father meant well. But what good are your good intentions if they kill us?

When my friends and I discuss people we dislike, we often end our conversations with, "But he means well."

We always land here, because we want to affirm ourselves as fair, non-judgmental people who examine a person not only by what he does but also by what he intends to. After all, aren't all of us standing in the gap between who we are and who we try to be? Isn't it human to allow those we dislike—even those who harm us—a residence in this space as well?

"You know what? He means well," we say. We lean on this, and the phrase is so condescending, so cloyingly sweet, so hollow, that I'd almost rather anyone say anything else about me than how awful I am despite how good I intend to be.

I think about this during a car ride last weekend with my dad, where he tells me what happened once the cops finally realized they had arrested the wrong man. They picked him up from the curb, brushed him off.

"Sorry, buddy," an officer said, unlocking his handcuffs.

They'd made an honest mistake. He'd fit the description. Well, of course he did. The description is always the same. The police escorted my father onto the road. My father, not yet my father, drove all the way home without remembering to turn his headlights on.

Brit Bennett recently earned her M.F.A. in creative writing at the the Helen Zell Writers' Program at the University of Michigan. She is currently a Zell Postgraduate Fellow, where she is working on her first novel.

[fandomshatepeopleofcolor]

So I'm a mixed race person as well, but I'm also somewhat white passing or "ethnically ambiguous" and I always feel that because nobody would ever look at me and recognize me as black, then I have no right to identify myself as black or speak on black issues but I also was raised solely by my black grandmother so I don't really feel like I'm connected to my white half either and trying to write characters that relate to either half is difficult for me and i really dont know where i fit

At the end of the day, you’re Black. If there are people saying you can’t identify as Black because you are biracial, honestly those people just got their own issues to deal with.

But if I’m going to be real with you, I’m not so sure I’m comfortable with the whole “Black people don’t consider me Black because I’m mixed” thing you keep on mentioning because it sounds like you’re referring to the Black community as a whole

We aren’t a monolith. Are there some who are just overly pro-black to the point where they start spewing out gross rhetoric about mixed relationships? Yeah. I would see them every now and then. But for the most part people like my very white-passing aunt are just accepted as Black. And I really see the other thing occur only on online forums

Now because you’ve mentioned you are “somewhat” white passing I’m assuming that means you have light skin privileges. In that regard, you most likely have to sit back and listen to dark skin Black people in topics involving colorism. With that said you’re part Black

Being a light skin mix Black person does not mean you shouldn’t speak about Black issues. That is part of your identity. It affects your community and your culture of course you want to talk about it. But you definitely need to be cautious when talking about colorism and be sure to not speak over dark skin Black people

~mod n

[jan-uinely]

hot takes continued

here we go. season 12 episode 12. 

so. it’s time to chit chat about drag race. if u dont like my opinions sry. 

this is gonna get bigger than one episode or one season. this is meta drag race. 

but first i guess the episode. right. so. obviously it was a “musical” so obviously i wanted to see jan sing and obviously she did not. I do think that this challenge [not necessarily placed in this episode] would have been a great time to do a like returning queens. but i digress.

i think that it was a little muddled. like it wasn't like any of the “girl group” numbers where it’s just the verse and chorus. all of the verses were placed in different spots throughout the show. I also think it’s ironic that this whole episode is to promote this live vegas show which is obviously not happening right now. but alas. 

i agree with bob in that i liked jackie’s verse the best. 

i did not love gigi’s outfit in the challenge. you couldn't make out the heart as easily bc the red was all the same color. I also think the material used was too chunky- it was quilted. i would have rather had the heart be quilted, not have a corset underneath it, and have the rest of the top part not be quilted. i thought it was a good concept but i would have preferred different #choices. i also would have rather the hair been straight instead of curled.

i did not have a huge issue w crystal’s orange and green outfit. i also appreciated the callback stars and stripes hair. though maybe not together?

jaida was good as per usual. i want her to win, but we will get to that later. 

also let us note the basketball wives hair that made a comeback [gigi, jackie]

runway time.

crystal and ******’s outfits did not fit the way i wanted them too, and the problems were both in the hips. when i saw them i thought the hips should be exaggerated, but instead they both looked weirdly deflated. and crystal’s torso section could have been brought in. [i did see on instagram that the person who made crystal’s look [casey caldwell who is a nyc based designer, works w a lot of neoprene/thick materials- just look up on instagram caseyyalater] actually made it for dragcon and crystal bought it right there, so it wasn’t tailored] 

in the dior v dior battle, i thought gigi won. jackie’s dress was just i think a little too large [not in terms of tailoring, in terms of diameter] but it was very jackie

gigi said that her outfit was quintessential gigi, which i think it interesting bc if you look up showgirls performances, it very much is. however in terms of the character portrayed on drag race i didn’t think it was. it was very well made, etc. but it just didn’t fit the “perfectionist trope” of the show. 

jaida is once again wearing a gown with a presequinned fabric, which i am not mad at. it is quintessential jaida. 

critiques. 

again ooh we have to nitpick bc we accidentally cast too many winners on this season blah blah blah. i was not a fan of when they said oh well we will have to look at report cards. as if they didnt intentionally load up gigi and ****** with wins at the start of the show. 

and then it’s like oh well jackie and crystal have to lip sync blah blah blah. and you know that jackie is going home. bc the judges absolutely love crystal, all because of that mullet. 

to quote bob “I used to be really upset at queens who won the judges with their personality” and that is still mostly true for me. i don’t think her placement is unjust or whatever, but like if ru didn’t like the mullet, she would not have been given the confidence boost to turn her trajectory around, compared to jackie and widow and jan, who did most things right but just were not rupaul’s fave, and must have had a much more difficult time mentally on the show. 

and FWIW heidi falls into this category as well. race chaser i think said it - all of her success comes from ru’s ideas. and being naturally funny and charismatic and having ru like you as a person is a huge gift and huge talent, but the inability to wrangle it...  that being said i think she deserves the world and will grow [and has already grown] from this experience.

and the thing is that crystal also keeps going back to the same stuff which could have been funny if the episodes were more than one apart or if she didn't do it twice in one episode but. idk. 

now, who will win, who should win, hmm hmm hmm. tbh i don’t think it will be crystal. they just crowned the oddball and they like to mix it up, or at least try to. also why looking at the history of dusted or busted scores [and s/o to jan for coming in @ 4 [after the disqualification]] crystal is at a 2, and bebe won with the lowest score at a 3 [w 2nd and 3rd place at 4 and 5], and that was in season 1, which was a whole other ballgame. leaving us with jaida and gigi. i am team jaida. i think that she is much more developed as an artist and performer than gigi, and I think that she will bring us something new.

[here comes the meta part]

the title is america’s next drag superstar. and i think in the beginning of the show, they decided that that had to mean something new and exciting, something that pushed the boundaries of what drag could be [which is rly ironic coming from them but]. which has developed this culture of what is the formula to be successful on drag race. and some people were more overt about this [jan] and some people were more subtle about this [gigi and jackie]. 

but for some reason, the [Black] pageant queens will make it to the top and then never win. - and they’ve had overt conversations regarding pageants and pageant culture on the show before - but balls and pageants were like the building blocks of drag culture in the us [from what i understand]. so inherently that means it’s no longer “new” and exciting. but the thing is that so many of these fashion [/nyc] queens work so exclusively with these high end designers to produce these looks [i think bob said it can cost like 10K to prep all your stuff for drag race] and with that the ability to design and sew falls away. 

and i think that is reflected in the challenges and how they have changed. this season there was one design challenge. and that is just so disappointing to me bc i think the design challenges really separate who has a full understanding of their persona and who does not. 

and with fewer and fewer design challenges, you have more and more designer items, and the ability to create something has fallen to the wayside. personally [and i will probably make another post about this later] i want to bring back the design challenges in one of two ways. 1. have an all designers season. where drag designers work to make elaborate costumes based on a prompt and given certain materials. bc on the show designers are not credited as much [that part comes on instagram]. 2. i want to have a drag race blank slate competition. where contestants audition and are given a list of prompts but cannot bring anything except like a notebook. no prepared outfits. you can sketch designs to the prompts, but all the materials are provided. contestants still have a main challenge and a runway, but rather than 2 days, they are given a full week to execute the challenge and the outfit. this would totally change the game in my mind. like one you wouldn't have to have money or take out loans to compete, you could just come and show who you are. and two the audience could see more of what goes into this stuff. AND if drag race really wants to feed us, they could do like a wed. ep and a friday ep. to spread things out. 

my favorite challenges are design challenges, and while i think the first challenge this season gave us a better introduction to who the contestants are, the design challenge is a really good thing to have at the front. 

i do think that if they had not had the debate that there would have been another design challenge in the mix, but bc it was an election year. 

anyways, i want jaida to win bc she’s excellent at what she does. and at this point there is something new and exciting about making all your own clothes and being polished and knowing who you are.  and tbh gigi doesn’t bring anything new to the table. sure the ability to sew and design is good, but compared to aquaria and violet the designs were not as diverse or inventive. on top of that, the fact that gigi is outwardly apolitical [and doesn’t understand the connotation of “privilege” in today’s times] is just not a good look. I also think that it is interesting that gigi came in as the look queen but actually did better in the acting challenges. 

idk my main takeaway is that gigi is really really good at playing other people, and with that comes a lack of self awareness. striving so hard to be perfect can come at the cost of not knowing who you are as an artist. like gigi’s brand is literally “im that bitch/bitch” which again, just isn’t what i want in a winner. 

and tbh the gigi bug bit early but ended when ru gave her the win on the madonna episode. [i will say that jackie could have won snatch game but tbh i was annoyed w her for being a little dickish to the safe girls that week [though what she said was totally understandable] and also i <3 jackie cox [and chelsea piers we stan chelsea piers in this house] i think there is something so gr8 abt being a nerd and being prepared and being on brand about it. also jackie is always the one to hop on the dolls’ lives and comment their venmo. hashtag cool aunt jackie. [though that here for cox t-shirt and the promo photos make me uncomfy though i get it]]

re jackie coming back to complete the top 4... IDK it’s nice and all but they've already established that they don’t want her to win- otherwise she would not have been eliminated. 

also in my mind there are only 12 places so jan actually came in 7, widow 6, heidi 5, jackie 4. 

anyways these are my thoughts. as usual, raw and unedited. 

#i guess what i'm saying is that i would love to produce drag race #but i hate la so i guess that's off the table #drag race #hot takes #rpdr s12 #this is very long #so be prepared #i would like to think that it is high quality content #but we shall see #if u want more hot takes my ask box is always open #as u know i have no life #i just rotate between instagram twitter and tumblr #drag race season 12 episode 12 #im a ramblin gal #so enjoy my thoughts on this fine satur day

[sometimesrosy]

Wow did you see all that drama with those Rey and Ben shippers and John Boyega who plays Finn? Now I have nothing against them all but some of them took it too far. So what John doesn't like a ship, there is no need to abuse him with vicious racist slurs on social media and he snapped back posting a video of their terrible tweets with everyone to see than they started playing the victim card even though they are the ones who tagged him in their racism publicly, no one to blame but themselves.

Oh rlly? I didn’t see the latest saga, but I saw the part about how they called him sexist for shipping rey and finn, and being vaguely smutty, which I think is hypocritical for a fandom that shipped r/ylo and made a mc heroine’s journey all about a man. And they were not nonsexual either. I saw those conversations. They were mocking him for portraying what they saw as the losing side in a love triangle (but it wasn’t really a love triangle and they didn’t win it if it was.)

I didn’t see his video but I SO believe it. And I believe they attacked him with racist slurs and then played the victim.  I had a very similar experience in fandom on a much smaller level. I’m not famous, and I had nothing to do with the content created, but I also was attacked by a fandom of a “winning” ship in a shipwar whose fave then died. I have been called a lesbophobe... which is a very tricky thing because homophobia is wrong and the claim turns me into the bad guy, whether it’s true or not, the evil person, right? I’m the one who’s the bigot, according to that claim, and anything I do to defend myself is seen as evidence of of it being true, no matter my past history or present actions, and it was, in fact supported by straight up lies and misrepresentations. They did this by erasing my lived experience as a domestic abuse victim which I flat out told them from the very beginning of my critique. I was speaking as a abuse survivor on what I saw. They said no I was lying, that wasn’t real, i hated lesbians. And if it was real, I should be silent because lesbians were more important than abuse victims. And I also deserved my abuse and should die and couldn’t possibly understand the TRAUMA of seeing your fictional representation in fear for her life and having love be equated with pain (while being a DOMESTIC ABUSE VICTIM WHO HAD LITERALLY BEEN IN FEAR FOR HER LIFE WHERE LOVE=PAIN.) 

1. not true. 

2. invalidating the trauma and experience of domestic abuse. 

3. Silencing and re-victimizing the victim, not just denying the abuse happened but then adding to the abuse. 

So like they attacked JB for being sexist, and then go after him for what they perceive as his weakness/character flaw. being black. They try to silence him (to which he’s like, no i don’t think so) and destroy his character by making him the villain. Using his race as the weapon. 

@@

I mean. I mean. What could they be thinking? 

Why would they say shit like that? 

So, I don’t have a very good opinion of fandom. Some of fandom is fantastic. There’s no where else I can talk about my super geeky love of literary analysis and symbolism in freaking science fiction and fantasy (my literary nerds don’t get genre stuff and my sff nerds are not really interested in the literary analysis obsession.) It has been a delight and a privilege to be able to con y’all into doing academic literary analysis for fun, like I enjoy. I mean. It’s not a con. I tell you what I’m doing, let’s call it a “seduction.” lol. It’s also great to find people like you especially if you’re in a place where you dont’ have a supportive community. It’s amazing for creativity and fanworks. 

BUT fandom can be like a pack of hyenas. People who want power flock to this world, the internet anonymity, the power to gatekeep, the lack of self freaking reflection, this misapprehension that they can create canon to fit their preferences and fancies and whatever they say is real, and the fandom that shouts the others down the loudest is the one who gets to say what canon means.

To that I say POPPYCOCK!

Canon is canon, bitch. You dont’ get to control it because you have the biggest girl gang with the fastest hot rod. This is not Grease. 

Those people attacking JB, being racist? They may think their ad hominem attacks give them control over him (like they thought calling me demon gave them control over me [hint: it didn’t]) but what it really does is reveal their OWN lack of character. 

First it makes it obvious that they can’t separate fantasy from reality. 

Second it shows their obsessions are out of control. (take a break kids) 

Third it shows that they cannot discuss canon or argue their point with logic or evidence so they resort to non-relevant personal attacks, which means that either their position HAS no evidence to support it or they are not good enough at debating to defend their argument. 

Fourth it shows THAT THEY ARE RACIST!!!! You don’t use a person’s race to drag them unless you think that race is inferior. A person’s race is not a character trait, y’all. This attitude is RACIST. and if you didn’t mean to be racist but went along with the loudest voices who are racist... YOU ARE STILL RACIST. Maybe not in the lynching way. Maybe just in the Nice White Lady (NWL) way, which is STILL RACIST. Those are the kind of people who think black people should stay in their place and sit on the back of the bus and say please and thank you when people are being racist to them, and always consider their NWL feelings when criticizing them because no one should ever make them feel sad for being racist. Not that they want to STOP being racist, just that they don’t want to feel sad about it so please don’t mention their racism, and while we’re at it, don’t disagree with them. Please and thank you, oh aren’t you a nice POC. You’re one of the nice ones.* 

Listen. Fandom may be fun and we may feel like we’ve found a home here, but do not EVER be uncritical of fandom. It IS NOT a safe place. Not only can you be the target of racism and harassment and abuse and targeting, but you can also be the victim of people who are intentionally trying to manipulate you into following them and their agenda. Maybe their agenda is just to have more followers who love them, but maybe their agenda is to spread their toxic ideas and destabilize the very communities that are supportive to people who are marginalized. 

To be truthful, watching the Star Wars fandom become this toxic clusterfuck ever since TFA came out was what made me realized my experience in fandom wasn’t personal or isolated, but was in fact a FEATURE of fandom, not a bug. 

Y’all life does not have to be like that. And neither does fandom.

*this is sarcasm. NWLs expecting niceness when people are racially oppressed IS STILL RACIST.

#ugh

[ceciliatan]

Writing the Other: Conflict and Inclusion Panel Discussion Recap from #ICFA40

Writing the Other: Conflict and Inclusion ICFA 40 Panel with JR Richard, Keffy Kehrli, Usman Malik, K. Tempest Bradford, Nisi Shawl

This panel did not have a description in the online schedule, but I marked it of obvious interest to me! What follows in this post is my attempt to capture what was said. I believe I caught about 60% of the remarks, so this is not all of it, and sometimes I may have mis-typed, mis-heard, or misunderstood what was said, so please do not take these as direct quotes. They may be paraphrased. Please check with the individuals here before you quote them based on this pseudo-transcript.

The panel began with the panelists introducing themselves:

Nisi Shawl: I am a writer and editor, and increasingly this year a teacher! And I coauthored a book called Writing the Other with Cynthia Ward. I teach classes on Writing the Other with this woman to my right…

K. Tempest Bradford: I am a sf/f author and I’ve been co-teaching for Writing the Other workshops, and I admin the classes we don’t teach ourselves. We’ve been doing this for 4-5 years and it’s my fault Nisi is teaching more classes!

Usman Malik: I am a writer of sf/f, subspecializing in horror.

Keffy Kehrli: I am a sf/f writer and I only have shorts stories out. And I edit Glittership, an LGBTQ magazine We dont restrict to LGBTQ authors, so I get a lot of people “writing the other.” I’m also getting PhD in genetics so if I space out I’m probably thining about genes.

JR Richard: I’m a sf/f writer and playwright and I teach creative writing, playwriting, design, and slam poetry to school age children.

Nisi: The first thing I wanted to ask the panel for are some examples of inclusion and conflict in writing the other.

JR: I think that for me, it’s about educating ourselves: as someone with privilege and someone not with privilege—I am female and queer and I go by she/they, but I’m white. And in a previous panel someone said writers go “oh, I have awoken! so now I have learned and it’s done!” And that’s not how it works…? You are always evolving and learning. I have learned what is my lane and what is not my lane. I have learned when people are faking it. I am also Jewish and just read a musical that was written by people who aren’t Jewish and they got what a mitzvah is wrong. Being wrong can be hard for those with privilege. Conflict is hard for people with privilege to accept. When they say “I don’t even see color, I don’t care if people are pink and blue…” they are skirting a conflict that makes them uncomfortable.

Nisi: But do you have some examples?

Keffy: Specific works to cite… I’m trying to think. I tend to forget things that really piss me off. So I have trouble citing examples. There are two things I see a lot when it comes to conflict and inclusion. If you’ve read a lot of sf/f—especially older stuff even beyond just Tolkien—a lot of the models you get for conflict in fantasy works tend be to problematic. They tend to include the other as the enemy. So if you base inclusion on how you read it as a kid, it may be problematic to start with. Tolkien is a great example of how not to do it. The second thing is if you have come up with a villain and you realize you have a very white, straight story, and now you decide oh, I’m going to make this character black, you will possibly run into a very serious stereotype without having realized it. If you put in a queer character without considering how the intersection of that identity with stereotypes you will run right into a problem with them. I see it in submissions where someone decided to make a character queer without seeing how it impacts the story.

Usman: My thought process over the last few years has been A) when I write a story I don’t write the other, I write ME. But you need people who have lived that role. If they write that story, they write about their own experience. That is your cement block for me. We need representation in every sector you can think of, every art. B) Great writers or anyone worth their salt are trying to be authentic. Authenticity is the heart of all good art. It doesn’t matter if you need to know intersectionalism — it’s great if you do, but you don’t need to know any of that if you are working with authenticity and honesty. I have a story set in inner Lahore, Pakistan. I have lived in Lahore, Pakistan, but not in inner Lahore where my parents had lived. So I went back home and visited people there and then I wrote that story. Those are my people and I still felt I had to go and study them. In the Internet, in what I call the Troll World, the ones who are complaining are inauthentic to what they are doing. They are bad writers. That’s how I think about it.

Tempest: There are a lot of conversations about authenticity but also Own Voices writing, people writing within their own identity category. They are from the identity and they are writing that identity. But there becomes a conflict in which their authenticity is challenged by people whose idea of that identity comes from inauthentic things! (laughter) Kate Elliot gave a really great lecture on this about a review of Ken Liu’s book Grace of Kings. This one reviewer was like “when I set out to read this, I thought I would find an authentic experience of Asian culture, like what I saw in a movie I saw one time.” (audience groans) They have this view of what is “authentic” which is often a stereotypical or really offensive view, and if you do anything else, the audience is very against it. This also causes a problem with people who are trying to write the other and have actually learned the lesson and are doing it well. Say they write outside of their racial cultural whatever, and it’s very nuanced and layered and great, and they send it to an agent or editor. They get told “but you’re white, so you can’t write about Native Americans or black characters” or whatever. Or the editor will say this is not realistic because the black people are not in a gang. The Native Americans are not alcoholics. You didn’t write those stereotypes, but because it’s not what they expect they think it’s wrong. So the conflict comes when what do you do when your editor tells you something like that? We tell them: don’t let them make you put racist nonsense into your book. You may need to call an expert in the subject who has some clout. This happens a lot.

Nisi: I think, Usman, you do write the other when you write someone from a different economic class. You also wrote about orphans. Those are not you. But I take your point about your representation of the other. Recent someone was telling me how “diverse” the cast was from Crazy Rich Asians and I was like: it’s not diverse at all!

Tempest: They’re all Asian! Using the word “diverse” to mean “not white” is every problematic.

Nisi: Who is writing what and who’s including whom—in their anthologies and their publishing stables—those are questions we’re asking.

Keffy: I can say for Glittership I try to be as inclusive as I can, but it’s always a caveat because you can’t be perfectly inclusive. Because there are a limited number of stories, but there are an unlimited number of intersections. Usman gave a perfect example. It’s OwnVoices because it’s Pakistani but it’s not OwnVoices because it’s not inner Lahore. I have one benefit over anthology editors in that Glittership is ongoing, whereas an anthology is out. If you fucked up and put no women in it you’re stuck with it. Inclusion is a process. I’m always trying to reach out to people I don’t have represented. Sometimes though they send me something that I just don’t like. I try to write the nicest rejection letter I can so that they’ll send me more. One of my problems is that some of the groups I don’t have enough fiction from is that I don’t have enough authors sending them to me. Part of it is that there’s a perspective that LGBTQ fiction is very white and that you can have all the types of queers as long as they’re white. I have to be very specific I want more writers of color.

Nisi: But can you clarify? The authors you reach out to are …?

Keffy: I don’t publish any fiction that isn’t queer. There are many authors who I would love to have, but they haven’t written anything fitting for my magazine. I will literally just email people and say “yo, send me stories.” It’s so easy for poeple to get into the idea that if they don’t see a story from people like them, then they think they shouldn’t send theirs either. Sometimes as an author you don’t want to try. No one wants to get the rejection that is like “well, but none of them are drug dealers.” That’s rejection and getting stabbed in the heart. It’s on ongoing process. I go through Fiyah Lit Mag and email all their contributors “Hey got ay queer stuff?”

Tempest: I really feel like in sf/f we have a giant problem where there are not enough editors who are not white cis men. This is especially a problem in anthologies. Most of the major year’s bests are compiled by white cisgender men. The exceptions are like Ellen Datlow, which is great, she’s there because of her seniority, but sometimes there’s not a lot of new people being brought into that. Every time I hear about a new years best it’s edited by John Q Whitefellow. When it comes to talking about stuff like World Fantasy and them not inviting and black people or women to be guests of honor for example. They just invite NK Jemisin and if she says no, they just go back to John Q Whiteguy. They say there aren’t enough others around. (They’re wrong.)

Nisi: When I edited an anthology, Nalo Hopkinson was asked to do it first. And she said no, you should ask Nisi instead. One thing we can do is keep pushing off the requests to someone else you know. I have edited three anthologies now and helped edit a few others. I make a spreadsheet and I track where are things coming from, what races are they, are they bi or queer or cis, et cetera. I don’t go for a quota but I am very conscious with trackable data about who I am getting.

Tempest: It’s good we have some editors who make an effort to understand things outside their understanding. I think Neil Clarke and John Joseph Adams do a good job with that. JJA does a good job because as the SERIES editor for a year’s best he brings in annual editors who are from more diverse points of view. He’s had Charles Yu and NK Jemisin. And then that influence rolls on.

Keffy: I do see a definite impact of my identity on my submissions. I see many more trans and nonbinary stories and authors than I did at Shimmer magazine. There I saw many women who were driven by the female editors there. As a transman I know that is impacting who feels comfortable submitting to me. But so is the fact I’m white. People want to hope they’re sending to a warm, welcoming place for them.

JR: The situation in my hometown in the theater community is very segregated. Nebraska has about a million people and it’s ridiculously segregated. There was busing when I was in school. I produced a show called Woman in Omaha. The show had women each given 5 minutes to do a thing under a pink tent. I told them I went to Omaha Central High School and I haven’t done anything at The Union, which is in the middle of the black area of town. Me and my husband were the only two white actors they had that season. I asked my friend Beau if she would co-produce with me. Most of the theaters in town will completely whitewash a cast. The white producers keep saying [non-white] people don’t show up to auditions. But it’s because they think they won’t be welcome in that space. Denise Chapman tells a story that a guy came in to audition with his dreads inside a hat like he was trying to hide it. She told him, look be yourself, and he just began to glow once he could be himself. I think A Woman in Omaha was really great and a moment of intersectionality. Anoterh example, we were doing Bubbly Black Girl Sheds Her Chameleon Skin; it is all about being a black woman in musical theater. And in the Q & A after this white woman in the back stood up and said “well, but why aren’t all of you auditioning at the Playhouse?” It’s because the Playhouse’s idea of being inclusive or adding diversity is to do The Color Purple and Raisin in the Sun.

Nisi: Which is like 60 years old. Let’s talk about is conflict inherent in inclusion? Does inclusion automatically mean exclusion?

JR: I hope inclusion doesn’t mean exclusion! I think it means I can walk into a room with people of diferent faiths but all have a respect from what each of us are doing. Discomfort in inclusion, when you have grown up as white as the default in Omaha, Nebraska, it can be uncomfortable to step out of that and realize white is NOT the default and then be scared to mess up and not be inclusive. If you’re not uncomfortable in a situation either you are not pushing yourself enough or you are comfortable in your little box.

Keffy: I think conflict is inherent in inclusion but it’s also just as much in exclusion. Conflict that has been externalized I brought inside and you have to deal with it. I think that’s where a lot of the discomfort comes from. It’s not about whether black actors get in the door, it’s about whether they’re being treated correctly once they’re inside. That’s part of it. It’s a reframing of the conflict that already exists. I don’t think inclusion automatically means exclusion, but sometimes inclusion just moves the exclusion line elsewhere. Like with the expanding acronym of LGBTQ etc where do you cut off the letters? Who is left off when the bus leaves the stop? I try to be aware of that. Being a queer magazine there are people who don’t think they’re being excluded.

Usman: Exclusion versus inclusion — usually exclusion is a variant of colonization. If someone is doing that, the end result is always supremacy of some sort. Whether it happens by set mechanisms or systemic change, conflict is going to happen. The other thing is you know we were talking about editors and submission before. ICFA and the sf/f world is very different from the MFA world and the horror world. A horror antho came out by a well-known, big-time writer and I was reading the TOC. Out of 27 stories, one was by a woman. That editor is a friend of mine. I brought it up, and he came on my page and got mad. I don’t think people are deliberately being evil. But people are too arrogant to admit that things should change. There is a lack of humility on the people who are perpetuating the system. Even in the LGBTQ community there can be that arrogance. Another thing when you are a 16 or 20 year old brown kid sitting out there, they don’t know what we’re talking about. This is a very European and North-American centric discussion. We are already excluding 90 percent of the world.

Tempest: Then people who are rarely excluded claim that inclusion makes them excluded. Like if there is a “slot” for a woman in an anthology they feel that slot might have been taken away from them. I had a conversation with a co-worker that every country has one representative in the U.N. He felt America should have a bigger say. But why? Why should that bother him? I was like: what are you talking about. Of course it should be one each. But he was thinking America is the best, we deserve more etc because that’s what he’s been taught. So in his mind automatically America should get more seats in the UN. But in anthologies they’ll say yeah these are the “best” even if they haven’t made any effort to reach out to other cultural contexts. They’ll say “You can’t ‘exclude’ these (white authors) because that’s exclusion!” There’s a weird sense of fairness to these people. When I did the reading challenge. This one guy was like “oh you’re right I’ve only read one women in five years!” But when I suggested he read only women for a year he was like “But that wouldn’t be fair!” like that was going “too far.” As if one year versus five would swing the balance too far toward women even though he just admitted that only reading one woman in five years was too little.

Nisi: I was doing a reading at a place in New Orleans through a college there. We went to a home in a neighborhood. Outside black kids were playing with their bicycles and baseballs and the organizers told me I want those kids to come to this reading because I don’t want them to think this isn’t for them.

Keffy: Many things have been improved by the Internet. In the days of postal submissions I would not get stories from Nigeria. So there is more outreach than there was. But I run into the problem that there are countries where if an author sent me a story they could be putting their life in danger. The Brazilian elections recently, they elected an extremely anti-queer president. He’s Super-Trump. But right after that, I went through my submissions and I had submissions from Brazil. There are people who are going that far to get their message out. Most of the people of color who send me things are part of a diaspora in some way, and rarely from the indigenous countries. It’s hard to reach out.

Usman: I think the organizations are very smug. SFWA and the others, they feel they are doing a lot of outreach. They don’t get a lot of funding. Arts have lost their funding. But we have Codex and SFWA and ICFA, but how connected are we with the rest of the world? When is World Fantasy going to be “World” Fantasy? It’s taken ten years for the most briliant writer in India to get a reprint into Nightmare magazine. The way we know about Vandana Singh and Maryanne Mohanraj is because we’ve MET them. They’ve been at the cons. What about all the out of the country writers?

Nisi: Yeah. A lot of the people I know are from Clarion West.

Tempest: But that’s where the whole rolling down the hill thing happens. You open the door a little wider each time. But for people outside the US it’s a different trajectory. The staff on the Writing Excuses cruise give a scholarship for writers of color. It’s a networking opportunity. We have all these people now in our network. Con or Bust is another organization that was started because of POC being economically disadvantaged.

Nisi: I tried to talk about this in an essay I wrote called “Unqualified.” One way you are made to feel unwelcome is by a high economic bar. Lowering that bar proves you are welcome. One who is really reaching out is Neil Clarke who is reaching out to people of different nations. About the cascading effect of when you open opportunities to clueful allies, if you open up to people of color, then again we can further that. Alex Jennings, Ghita, all of these are people stamped with the approval of science fiction credibility, and they can now open the road further for other people.

JR: I also want to talk about elitism here in the US that I see a lot of with my students. I run a playwriting workshop in a special ed program. Often they have never had a creative writing class of any kind, ever. I also work in low income public schools. A lot of the time there are refugees or kids in low income families and there is such a gatekeeping. You have to have a cover page. You have to use Times new roman font. Etc. Stories are rejected for these gatekeeping reasons. I have one refugee kid from out of the country and he had written a beautiful story. He had written it on his phone. We had to figure out how to get it off his phone. We had to figure out how to get it out of there and reformat it and all these things (and then it wasn’t even accepted). I went to an MFA program but not everyone can do that.

Nisi: Not everyone can take 6 weeks out of their lives for Clarion even if they get a scholarship.

Keffy: There are such problems with so-called standard manuscript format. I don’t really care. I get things in all kinds of fonts. It’s in Word. I just change it. There is no standard anymore. With postal submissions there was a high barrier to entry. But do any two magazines have the same format now? I had to copy my whole story into a notepad file to submit it in plain text into on magazine’s submission form… I decided never to do it again. Some of it is just… ugh. The thing is, I didn’t know anything about any of this until I started going to conventions. I would go to panels of editors, some of whom will remain nameless, but they would go on these tears about the (sarcasm) horrible things writers did like using the wrong font and how can anyone take that writer seriously? I have anxiety disorder so I was so worried I didn’t get absolutely everything right. I was afraid I didn’t speak the right lingo. So I am trying to make my submission handle-able for me and my co-editor. We have a submission form to make it doable for us, but it’s important when you are curating anything which things are really barriers to entry.

Tempest: What information someone has access to so often gets brushes aside. Someone types something into the Internet and they don’t know where they land has the wrong information. There are a lot of scammers out there. The people who get taken advantage of is because they accidentally landed in the wrong place. They weren’t dumb or not savvy. The only reason I know anything is I once opened the right promotional email and ended up here instead of the wrong place. and it must be even easier to land in the wrong place if you’re not from North America.

Keffy: Like JR said, there are a huge amount of places where they don’t have computers but they all have mobile phones. There are kids right now writing full novels in the back of the English class on their phone.

JR: There was a teacher at our school who was holding back giving notebooks to the kids because they had to “earn” them. Me and my boss were so mad at that. They are only reading white men from the 1930s and so if we go into the class and we say we’re going to write poetry they go “yuck! ugh!” because they think of writing as something that is for “him” and not for themselves. And I say no, we’re going to write what YOU want to write.

Nisi: OK, let’s open it to questions since we’ve got 45 minutes left. Oh no wait, only 15 minutes left! Where did the time go!

Tempest: We got talking.

(Then came questions from the audience but my fingers are cramping so I’m going to stop typing.)

from cecilia tan https://ift.tt/2Hp1KkE via IFTTT

#cecilia tan

[kvaldez6-blog]

Undocumented kids don’t belong in cages

      As we all know Trumps administration began deporting a lot of undocumented families and making the impossible for undocumented people to be able to work and succeed in the united states.

          There have been many reports about children in “detention centers” which is just another word for jail (for children and families that are undocumented) that have been mistreated and been treated worst than imitates with felonies. Just as Claudia Koerner a BuzzFeed News reporter interviewed a kid who said “I’m hungry here at Clint [detention center] all the time. I’m so hungry that I have woken up in the middle of the night with hunger. Sometimes I wake up from hunger at 4 a.m., sometimes at other hours. I’m too scared to ask the officials here for any more food, even though there is not enough food here for me.“ Kids are being separated from their families; they are not being treated like the children they are.

          These kids are being forced to take responsibility for things they don’t even know they were responsible for. The kids are sleeping in the worst of conditions are given the poorest medical attention.

          A Guatemalan mother whose daughter died because of a virus that was mistreated in the detention center is now failed a claim against the us government said that “she begged medical staff for help, only to watch the giggly child turn weak, feverish, thin.” These kids and families are being treated so inhumanly that there is no excuse for the government. There are kids being left to sleep on cement benches because of the overcrowding of children in these detention centers.

Resources;

https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/claudiakoerner/children-border-detention-conditions-immigrants-hungry

https://www.washingtonpost.com/immigration/kids-in-cages-house-hearing-to-examine-immigration-detention-as-democrats-push-for-more-information/2019/07/10/3cc53006-a28f-11e9-b732-41a79c2551bf_story.html

Color blindness and its brainless excuse

      In America a term that has been becoming popular over the time is they’re “color blind” or they don’t “see color” all though a lot of people use this term to get themselves out of trouble they make their situation worst. Worst in a way that they try to make it seem as if they don’t have a side, they don’t have any type of preference over any race. But instead they chose to turn their head to the other side when they see discrimination, when they see something wrong, they decide to not do anything to stand up and talk about it.

              The fact that people try to use the word “color blind” or the phrase “I don’t see color” is a nice idea but the fact that you can obviously distinguish color doesn’t change anything. What people should then do is control the way they interact with the races. Just as the article “Why The ‘I Don’t See Color’ Mantra Is Hurting Your Diversity And Inclusion Efforts” they say how instead of trying to not see color we should “ recognize that each of us, no matter our color, have preconceived notions and expectations about different racial groups. Recognition and acknowledgment are crucial.”

          This is something to take away and really think of the ways that we can improve society and really stop thinking of being in a make-believe world that is something that probably won’t happen, but we can change our way of thinking.

Resources;

https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2015/09/color-blindness-is-counterproductive/405037/

https://www.forbes.com/sites/janicegassam/2019/02/15/why-the-i-dont-see-color-mantra-is-hurting-diversity-and-inclusion-efforts/#7c2803fc2c8d

https://www.google.com/search?q=i+don%27t+see+color&safe=strict&rlz=1C1CHBF_enUS863US863&sxsrf=ACYBGNQeOm3ahWE19uSGRMPD2F8-VGYYKQ:1575862998513&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiwvvaR06fmAhXTu54KHbTkDRMQ_AUoAXoECAwQAw&biw=1366&bih=657#imgrc=edNLPOLldsKnyM:

What is “Equality” For Women in America

      According to the “WEF estimates that it will take the United States another 208 years to reach gender equality” says USA today. Starting off with this said, its more than obvious that American still has a long way to go to gain gender equality. For women in the United States this is more than sad. Sad because there have been many struggles to get to the point of where we’re at, and still have a long way to go. All though women get higher college degrees they’re still viewed in a nonprofessional way. People don’t take women seriously; they don’t think of women being capable of doing these things.

          USA today reported that “On the political front, women are 51% of the U.S. population, but hold only 24% of seats in Congress.”  Which gives to mean that mean that Women are still being seen as less than a man. Women could hold a lot of power even more than men is this why because they’re afraid we will overpower them? Women everywhere we go we are always getting cat called, assaulted, and raped. Not saying this cannot happen to men also but it is something that is very common for women and we have had awareness about this, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s still happening.

Overall, I think gender equality still has a long way to go, but there will always be something that will never make it equal.

Resources;

https://time.com/longform/gender-equality-america/

https://www.usatoday.com/story/opinion/2019/06/21/equality-for-women-cant-wait-208-years-melinda-gates-column/1511613001/

The ignorance of White privilege amongst whites

      Something that I have noticed from my own experiences is that there’s a few whites that are poor and born into unhealthy families. But my main question is why? Why is it that they’re poor? Is it because they don’t want to succeed? In all this I came across an article of New York Times, talking about a story of a black women asking a white male about his privilege. As soon as the women proceeded to ask about his privilege, he denied it. He said he had worked for everything he has.  As well as there’s many white men and women who do work for the things, they want the real question is how hard did you have to work for it? Obviously, it couldn’t have been harder for them than a person of color. The system is set up to favoritism of white people. So how hard did you really have to work? In case of them being a person of color would they even gotten as far as they are now if the worked the same hard as they did when they were white?

          How often do you see a white person being pulled over? How many times do you see a cop pointing a gun at a white person? How many times do white people have to fear for their life when they’re being pulled over even when they have done nothing wrong? And the answer to that is NEVER. White people these are things that play a huge part of privilege and they want to make it seem like they didn’t have any? Owning up to it is a start to changing this world and realizing not everyone has the same opportunities and chances as everyone.

Sources;

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/07/17/magazine/white-men-privilege.html

White privilege and unpacking the invisible knapsack

      All though there are many economic unhealthy whites, most of them use their white privilege without realizing it. As Peggy McIntosh decided to unpack some of the privilege, she has a white woman in America.

1. I can if I wish arrange to be in the company of people of my race most of the time.

2. I can avoid spending time with people whom I was trained to mistrust and who have learned to

mistrust my kind or me.

3. If I should need to move, I can be pretty sure of renting or purchasing housing in an area which I can

afford and in which I would want to live.

4. I can be pretty sure that my neighbors in such a location will be neutral or pleasant to me.

5. I can go shopping alone most of the time, pretty well assured that I will not be followed or harassed.

6. I can turn on the television or open to the front page of the paper and see people of my race widely

represented.

7. When I am told about our national heritage or about "civilization,” I am shown that people of my

color made it what it is.

8. I can be sure that my children will be given curricular materials that testify to the existence of their

race.

9. If I want to, I can be pretty sure of finding a publisher for this piece on white privilege.

10. I can be pretty sure of having my voice heard in a group in which I am the only member of my race.

11. I can be casual about whether or not to listen to another person’s voice in a group in which s/he is the

only member of his/her race.

12. I can go into a music shop and count on finding the music of my race represented, into a supermarket

and find the staple foods which fit with my cultural traditions, into a hairdresser’s shop and find

someone who can cut my hair.

13. Whether I use checks, credit cards or cash, I can count on my skin color not to work against the

appearance of financial reliability.

Sources;

https://www.racialequitytools.org/resourcefiles/mcintosh.pdf

[sparklemichele]

Hi so ive been wondering something and you seem to be very willing to inform people on issue of people of colour, if this is by any means offensive you dont have to answer this nd i apologise. I would like to know if there some sort of racism amoung african-american people themselves? It might be rare but do lightskinned african-americans look down on dark skinned sometimes? Again i might sound incredibly ignorant but where i live there are very few people of colour so i have no idea.

Hi Anon. I’m going to let a really great article I read by Jaleel Campbell answer your question. I hope it helps.

Dark Skin Vs: Light Skin: The Battle of Colorism In The Black Community

In many different cultures and countries around the world, skin color plays a huge role in the concept of beauty. Lighter skin is often preferable to darker skin. The effects of the African American self-hate toward each other because of one’s skin color is rather eye opening and sad, to say the least. This is a very hot and taboo subject among the African American community. As a culture that came from years of oppression and hatred inflicted by slave owners, forced to think that because of their color, they were inferior, blacks have somehow reverted back to having this sort of mindset which is, in fact, hurting them as a whole. With no thanks to the media and its influence on what is seen as beautiful, Black America is tearing itself apart when it focuses on such a shallow aspect of a person that they can’t control. What a person makes of themselves and all of their aspirations should be what they’re judged on - not their skin color. African Americans should stop using skin color to discriminate against each other because it hinders the progression of the entire black community.

Frequent sightings of dark skinned people portrayed negatively in the media is heavily exploited, while light skinned and non-black individuals are portrayed more positively.These kind of prejudgements negatively impact the African American community and prevents the culture from moving forward. Hundreds of years after slavery, the actions of several people in the black community still show that the culture, as a whole, needs to stop and think about the negative connotations they are associating themselves with. Sometimes people make statements such as, "You're pretty for someone who's dark-skinned " or "pretty for a black girl". Phrases such as the ones above are in no shape or form, a compliment. When someone says the above statement they are implying that because of a darker persons complexion, they’re automatically supposed to be ugly. Subtle jabs like this can take their toll on the self esteem of a person.

Growing up as a child in a place where being ridiculed and made fun of because your skin is of a darker complexion is one thing that most Americans couldn’t even imagine. In an interview with Essence Magazine, actress Viola Davis discusses how, as a child, she too felt the pain of being called an assortment of derogatory terms and shares how after a while, she began to believe that she in fact, was ugly (essence.com). Imagine seeing a little girl who had all of her self confidence ripped from her before she entered the 6th grade. That was the norm for Davis back during her childhood. According to the author of “Exploring the Impact of Skin Tone on Family Dynamics and Race-Related Outcomes,” Evidence suggests that racial socialization helps foster the adjustment of children in the face of race-related adversity and serves to protect youth from negative mental health consequences (Hughes, 2006). What many people fail to realize is that children are still developing and in prepubescent kids especially, criticism such as being called ugly and being told you will amount to nothing, can have a substantial effect on the sanity of someone so young. That child is left with that idea stuck in the back of their head throughout life and this idea can be the base of all of the future problems the person has with their self image as an adult.

The Clark Doll Experiment, administered by Kenneth and Mamie Clark, was an experiment that dealt with race and how children perceive it at a young age. The results that came from it were indeed astonishing yet, heartbreaking to say the least.

In the experiment Clark showed black children between the ages of six and nine two dolls, one white and one black, and then asked these questions in this order:

“Show me the doll that you like best or that you’d like to play with,”

“Show me the doll that is the ‘nice’ doll,”

“Show me the doll that looks ‘bad’,”

“Give me the doll that looks like a white child,”

“Give me the doll that looks like a coloured child,”

“Give me the doll that looks like a Negro child,”

“Give me the doll that looks like you.”

The questionnaire concluded with 44 percent of the black children choosing the white doll as being the doll that looked like them. This study gained a lot of attention because of the fact that young black children were disassociating themselves with their true race. A question that the case leaves lingering in the air is “what made the children choose the white doll instead of the one that was more close to them?”

In American culture, whiteness and more of a European "look" is considered the norm, and as a result, blackness is associated with lesser status. When looking at some celebrities, for instance Nicki Minaj, there has been a drastic change to her appearance since she first came on to the scene. As her popularity arose, she began to seem more increasingly "light". It is clear to the reader that she has altered her appearance. Now why is this you ask? Predictions can be made that in order for her to move up the ladder in the music world, she had to gain crossover appeal by changing her appearance to fit the pop demographic that her managers wanted her to meet. Although she may not agree with some of the ideas her team are putting together to make up her image, it has since propelled her to superstardom.

Even today,some people who are lighter-skinned consider themselves superior to (and more attractive than) darker-skinned Americans. Filmmaker, Spike Lee, commented on this problem in the movie School Daze, where he exposed the problems between light and dark skinned individuals attending a historically black college. One famous scene from the movie involves two groups of women, one group light skinned, and the other dark skinned, as they argue in a hair salon about which group has good hair. Both groups of women use many derogatory words to describe each which shows how ignorance is still apparent even within one’s own race. Because of such ignorance, the movie received a lot of criticism after its premiere. Before Lee shed light on the subject, it was a topic that was swept under the table but because of his influence, the problem was brought to national attention.

A 2006, University of Georgia study showed that employers prefer light skinned black men to dark skinned men, regardless of their qualifications. They found that a "light-skinned male could have only a Bachelor’s degree and typical work experience and still be preferred over a dark-skinned male with an MBA and past managerial positions"(Harrison 2006). On the other hand, however, in the corporate world, it is assumed that ”relative to their lighter-skinned counterparts, darker skinned Blacks have lower levels of education, income, and job status” (Turner 1995). Since this stereotype is in place, “Corporate America” can be seen as nothing more than an imagination in the eyes of a dark person, as if they know that the job wouldn’t be inviting to people such as them. So how did black culture become so infused with self hatred? Dark skinned slaves working in the field hated the light skin slaves working in the master's house because of the fact that he chose to “spoil” their lighter counterparts. According to “Brotherman: The Odyssey of Black Men in America - an Anthology,” One of the most popular methods of teaching this divisive behavior was created by Willie Lynch, a British slave owner in the West Indies, who came to United States to advise American slave owners how to keep their slaves restrained. The darker slaves were forced to work in the fields and received no privileges. This is what began the division within the black community. As history shows, although light skinned blacks were of a higher rank than their black counterparts, they still received scraps at the end of the day (Boyd). This idea is still intact to this day when lighter skinned individuals seem to feel more inferior to darker toned people, but when you ask a Caucasian, or anyone outside of the African American race, what the light skinned individuals would be listed under its always the same response. Black. After slavery, educational institutions, clubs and other activities were reserved only for light skinned black people. In some instances, only those who were lighter than a brown paper bag (paper bag test) would be considered light enough to attend a college or an exclusive club (Boyd).

Sometimes magazines will lighten the skin of black women, just as L'oreal lightened Beyonce's Skin in a controversial makeup ad that made her appear as if she were, indeed, white. The idea of a more eurocentric look comes in to play again as we dig more into America’s perception of western beauty. Characteristics of Eurocentric beauty include: white skin, a narrow nose, blonde or brown long straight hair, and thin lips. For some reason, if you don’t fulfill these beauty standards, you are considered to be less attractive. Many questions can be raised because of this; who’s the decider of what qualifies as beautiful? As cliched as it may sound, beauty is truly in the eyes of the beholder, despite what some people may think.

For some, the views and the opinions of others are too much to bare and consider procedures and different cosmetic products as a way to achieve the ever popular “eurocentric” look that they aspire to have. Although this may sound fine and dandy, the procedures and products bring more risks than they do good. Skin bleaching creams have become hot commodity in the black market beauty world. In a world where the only thing that is seen as beautiful is light skin, can others be to blame for the society that they are a product of? These toxic creams strip the skin of its melanin. Although the person achieves the look they intended to reach, their skin is now weak because of the components said products are composed of. On the other hand, everyone is entitled to self happiness, but the real question is are they ready to face all of the possible repercussions of skin bleaching? That is left for the person to decide.

This is a topic that won’t ever die because people refuse to stop being ignorant, which is evident by Twitter hashtags like #teamlightskin or #teamdarkskin, where people feud and try to prove who’s better based on skin color. Even when various YouTube searches on the topic are pulled up, thousands of results of people - some who try to diffuse the topic, while others add their foolish input. The fact that this topic still remains relevant is ridiculous.

According to “The Skin Color Paradox and the American Racial Order,” Dark-skin discrimination occurs within as well as across races (Turner). This idea is known to be true in an assortment of different cultures, most notably in the caste system set in India. The caste system is in place to form a structured society for the people of India based on one’s skin color. The lighter a person is, the more power that person holds, while the darker they are makes them more prone to living a harder life. Although life shouldn’t be that way for any human being, the darker toned Indians, often called the “untouchables,” are subject to hard labor throughout their lives.

To conclude, in many different cultures and countries around the world, skin color plays a huge role in the concept of beauty. Although light skin may be more preferable, those with darker skin still find their way in society. No matter what adversity they may have faced getting there, they eventually find solace in knowing that they’re on a road to success.The African American community must join together to show that they are more than just a skin, they are people. Although this may be a rather taboo subject, it needs to be brought to the forefront so it can finally be put to rest. The culture must move past those years of oppression and look to the future and what it has to offer. If the culture continues it current ways, then the oppression will always be there; the cycle must stop and the time has been long overdue. Even though the media has made steps in the right direction to show darker African Americans in a better light, the process must be stepped up a couple of notches to get real results. To reiterate, the color of the skin that you were born with should be just that. What a person makes of themselves and all of their aspirations should be what they’re judged on, not their skin color. It doesn’t matter where an African American falls on the spectrum of color because at the end of the day, they’re still black.

[trendingnewsb]

Jaylen Brown: ‘Sport is a mechanism of control in America’

As the Boston Celtics star prepares to play in London, he talks to Donald McRae about race, the NBA and the death of his best friend

Jaylen Brown is one the most intelligent and interesting young athletes Ive met in years and it seems fitting that, midway through our interview in Boston, he should retell a parable that brings together Martin Luther King and the great American writer David Foster Wallace.

Weve got two young fish swimming one way and an older fish swimming the other way, the 21-year-old star of the Boston Celtics says as he considers the enduring backdrop of race in the United States. They cross paths and the older fish says: Whats up guys, hows the water? The two younger fish turn around and look back at the wiser fish and ask: Whats water? Theyve never recognised that this is what they actually live in. So it takes somebody special like Martin Luther King to see past what youve been embedded in your whole life.

Three years before his death, Foster Wallace included the parable in one of his most widely-read pieces of writing. Yet it carries fresh resonance when said with quiet force by a young basketball player who stands apart from many of his contemporaries to the extent that there have been numerous articles in which an unnamed NBA executive apparently suggested that Brown might be too smart for the league or his own good.

Brown was the No3 pick in the 2016 NBA draft and now, in his second season with Boston, he is a key figure as the Celtics arrive in London this week as the leading team in the Eastern Conference. Weve already spoken about Browns desire to learn new languages and his interest in books and chess while he loves playing the piano and listening to grime artists from east London. Even more intimately he has relived the death of his closest friend Trevin Steede in November. In the two games after that devastating loss Brown produced inspirational performances, which he dedicated to Steede.

He has also looked forward to playing in London on Thursday, against the Philadelphia 76ers, and answered a question as to whether his young Celtics team may become NBA champions in the next few seasons: Why not this year? People say maybe well be good in two years but I think were good now. Right now weve got one of the best records in the league. I think we could be as good as we want to be. But the more we let people construct our mindset, and start saying two years from now, is the moment we lose.

Last week the Celtics beat LeBron James Cleveland Cavaliers 102-88. Excitement and anticipation surrounds the Celtics but race still stalks our conversation and it has echoed hauntingly through Browns life. Racism definitely still exists in the South, he says, remembering his youth in Marietta, Georgia. Ive experienced it through basketball. Ive had people call me the n-word. Ive had people come to basketball games dressed in monkey suits with a jersey on. Ive had people paint their face black at my games. Ive had people throw bananas in the stands.

Racism definitely exists across America today. Of course its changed a lot and my opportunities are far greater than they would have been 50 years ago. So some people think racism has dissipated or no longer exists. But its hidden in more strategic places. You have less people coming to your face and telling you certain things. But [Donald] Trump has made it a lot more acceptable for racists to speak their minds.

Jaylen Brown takes on LeBron James earlier this season. Photograph: CJ Gunther/EPA

Brown admits that, when he was 14, It wounds you. But when I got older and went to the University of California [Berkeley] I learnt about a more subtle racism and how it filters across our education system through tracking, hidden curriculums, social stratification and things I had no idea of before. I was really emotional because one of the most subtle but aggressive ways racism exists is through our education system.

In his year at college, before pausing his degree to play in the NBA, Brown wrote a thesis about how institutionalised sport impacts on education. I was super emotional reading about it, he says of his chosen subject. Theres this idea of America that some people have to win and some have to lose so certain things are in place to make this happen. Some people have to be the next legislators and political elites and some have to fill the prisons and work in McDonalds. Thats how America works. Its a machine which needs people up top, and people down low.

Even though Ive ended up in a great place, who is to say where I wouldve been without basketball? It makes me feel for my friends. And my little brothers or cousins have no idea how their social mobility is being shaped. I wish more and more that I can explain it to them. Just because Im the outlier in my neighbourhood who managed to avoid the barriers set up to keep the privileged in privilege, and the poor still poor, why should I forget about the people who didnt have the same chance as me?

What did he think of Colin Kaepernicks protest against police brutality and racism which the former San Francisco 49ers quarterback began even before Trumps election to the White House? It was peaceful and successful. It made people think. It made people angry. It made people want to talk. Often everybody is comfortable with their role in life and they forget about the people who are uncomfortable. So for Colin to put his career on the line, and sacrifice himself, was amazing. But Colin was fed up with the police brutality and pure racism. He speaks for many people in this country including me.

Did Brown understand from the outset that Kaepernicks career was in jeopardy? Absolutely. I wasnt shocked how it turned out. Colin was trying to get back into the NFL and find another team and hes more than capable. But I knew it was over. I knew they werent going to let him back. Nobody wanted the media attention or to take the risk. They probably just wanted to blackball him out of the league.

Thats the reality because sports is a mechanism of control. If people didnt have sports they would be a lot more disappointed with their role in society. There would be a lot more anger or stress about the injustice of poverty and hunger. Sports is a way to channel our energy into something positive. Without sports who knows what half of these kids would be doing?

Were having some of the same problems we had 50 years ago. Some things have changed a lot but other factors are deeply embedded in our society. It takes protests like Kaepernicks to make people uncomfortable and aware of these hidden injustices. People are now a lot more aware, engaged and united in our culture. It takes a special person like Kaepernick to force these changes because often reporters and fans say: If youre an athlete I dont want you to say anything. You should be happy youre making x amount of money playing sport. You should be saluting America instead of critiquing it. Thats our society.

Has his anger been amplified during Trumps presidency? Not really. I just think Trumps character and some of his values makes him unfit to lead. For someone like him to be president, and in charge of our troops? Its scary to be honest.

Trumps Twitter war in November with LaVar Ball tipped the scales, for Brown, beyond credulity. The President accused Ball of being ungrateful following the release from China of his son, LiAngelo, and two other UCLA basketball players after they were caught shoplifting. He demanded a thank you, Brown says of Trump. Its ridiculous. What happened to people doing things out of the generosity of their heart or because it was the right thing to do? There have been multiple situations where its been ridiculous but that one was like: OK Im done. Im done listening to anything you have to say. A 19-year-old kid makes a mistake overseas and [Trump] demands an apology from his dad? I think Trumps unfit to lead.

Jaylen Brown dunks during a game against the Brooklyn Nets. Photograph: Justin Lane/EPA

Browns readiness to talk about politics and culture might account for the surreal suggestion in 2016 that he was too smart for the NBA. From the outside, smart seemed a euphemism for troublesome. What did Brown think when, as a teenager, he heard words unlikely to be used in conjunction with a white athlete? It was hinting at something very problematic within society. It bothered me but I was so focused on getting to where I was going I never dissected it or pointed it out to anybody.

But I disagree that an athlete cant be intelligent. Some people think that, in basketball, we have a bunch of masculine adults who dont know how to control themselves. Theyre feeble-minded and cant engage or articulate ideas. Thats a narrative they keep trying to paint. Were trying to change it because that statement definitely has a racist undertone.

Brown chose Berkeley because he knew he would be stretched academically. Has he missed the intellectual stimulus since swapping college for professional basketball? Absolutely. Ive missed it so much. Im in a good environment here but at Cal I was learning something new every day. Im now trying to keep well-balanced instead of single-minded. I take piano lessons after I spent the last year teaching myself piano. If Im frustrated or had a bad day, but need to keep engaged, practicing the piano does that for me. Same with the YouTube [vlogs which he makes]. I use the camera so I can show something of this life to the everyday person who is interested in seeing what its like for an athlete on a day-to-day basis. Everybody puts you on a pedestal especially when youre playing well and they make it seem like youre not human. But Im just a regular guy.

During his first year at Berkeley, in his spare time, Brown learned Spanish from scratch and became fluent. Im not as good now, he says. I started again because therere so many conjugations that slip your mind if you dont practice. But I also just learned the Arabic alphabet. Im proud of myself because the pronunciation is hard.

Brown starts to say the Arabic alphabet out loud and, to an untutored ear, he sounds impressive. Yeah, he says with a grin, Im trying.

He describes himself as an introvert and it must be hard being quiet and reflective in a boisterous sporting environment? Absolutely. Its not just the locker room. In life if you stay quiet youll get left behind. So I had to learn to be more vocal and outgoing. I just try to be respectful of everybody. But the closer you get with guys the more you talk to them. It becomes like a family especially when youre winning. Last year I was much quieter but this year my opinion is valued more. We have a good locker room.

Jaylen Browns Celtics are set for a deep playoff run this season. Photograph: CJ Gunther/EPA

The value of that locker room was felt by Brown after the tragic suicide of his friend Trevin Steede. Brown found the will to play against the NBA champions, the Golden State Warriors, the night after Steedes death and he inspired the Celtics to a memorable victory by scoring the most points [22] while producing tenacious defence. After the game Kyrie Irving, the Celticss superstar, gave Brown the ball and said: This ones for Trevin.

Before they played again, in Atlanta, where Steedes family live, Brown visited his friends mother and other grieving relatives. He then went out and shot a career-high 27 points. Im so thankful for the people around me. They lifted me up. I dont know what my mental state would be right now without them.

I met Trevin when I moved to Wheeler which is a big basketball school in Marietta, Georgia. Trevin was a year older so he was a sophomore and I was a freshman. They brought me in and there was only one spot left on the team and it was between me and him. They gave it to me.

I didnt know anybody when I first got there so at lunch in the first week Id eat by myself acting like Im on my phone. Trevin came up to me after the third day. Id seen him in workouts but I didnt really know him. He said, Man, come sit over here with us. Ever since then, we were best friends.

How did he hear about Trevins death? His mom called me. Im thinking shes just checking on me or saying hi. But she called to tell me hes passed.

Brown looks down and his hurt is obvious. He also admits he needed the support of Steedes mother to face Golden State. I probably wouldnt have played unless she called me. Brad Stevens [the Celtics coach] asked how I was doing. I told him, I dont think Im able to come in today. He said: Thats fine. Take your time. Three seconds after I hung up, Trevins mom called. I told her I wasnt doing well and I probably wasnt going to play that night. She said: You know thats not what I want and thats not what Trevin would have wanted. So if you can find it in your heart to go out and play for him, do it.

Did he play in a daze, or was he inspired by Trevin to help Celtics win? I didnt feel anything. It was like I was out there by myself.

The chance to play in London lifts his mood. I visited London for the first time last summer. It was great. I went to see Big Ben because one of my idols is Benjamin Banneker [the African American scientist who, among other achievements, worked with striking clocks in the 18th century].

This week Brown would like to hear more grime and to see Arsenal. I like Barcelona because of the players theyve had traditionally from Ronaldinho to Messi. I really like Arsenal too. I like their tradition, and their diehard fans. I hope to see them in London. I think Thierry Henry is going to be there so Ill just hit him up and see if I can get some access to the [stadium] tour, get some shots on the field. Last summer I became really close with Thierry. I got to talk to him and we keep up with each other and he gives me advice about sports and life. Hes one of the all-time greats.

At the Celtics training facility, on the outskirts of Boston, Brown rises to his full 6ft 7in. He looks around the empty court before turning back with a smile when I say weve covered a lot of ground from the mysteries of water for two young fish and the enduring problems of race in America to the impact of learning and the pleasure of following sport around the world. Yeah, Brown says softly, stretching out his hand, thats the way I like it.

The NBA London Game 2018 sees the Philadelphia 76ers host Boston Celtics at The O2 on 11 January. The game will also be live on BT Sport and NBA League Pass.

Sign up to our weekly email, The Recap, here, showcasing a selection of our sport features from the past seven days.

Read more: https://www.theguardian.com/sport/2018/jan/09/jaylen-brown-boston-celtics-nba-interview

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[yuricakes]

.

I think my favorite reason to live out here in the midwest would vary depending on the situation. 

I’ve been going on about my life like an easy transition obliviously thinking I fit in great, but then incidents like yesterday happen and I’m reminded that even tho we’re well passed 5 years of being here that things aren’t like I see them. 

One of my favorite situations would DEF be getting “that look” while surrounded by these old whites after hearing me speak fluent english.. that used to be a NO-WAY-THAT-STILL-HAPPENS moment in my mind but with responses like “oh! you do speak english!” or “wow you speak good english” like im legit waiting on someone to belittle me and talk shit not knowing i can fully understand and then let all hell let loose... 

I think my next fav would go hand in hand with the first one. Just hearing me speak up for myself or others around me. I’ve talked to my parents about this because they are sometimes there when shit happens.. they say people are not used to hispanics talking back and saying something back when others are being fucked up to them whether its cutting in front of them or being skipped over or just automatically expecting a group of us when we walk into a restaurant to not be able to communicate with them so the worker nervously stands there and stutters in welcoming us until I step up to them and say, “hey I need this from you.” their face of relief will never cease to amaze me... which goes back to, “oh you know how to speak english!” 

and finally, in my naive subconscious head, my top reason i love it here, when im thinking i blend in almost perfectly because c’mon, we moved homes not species... A stranger approaches me and we’re having a conversation. and this goes for literally everyone that ive come across with no matter what age, sex, gender, race, whatever.. it always comes down to.. “so where are you from... originally? “ Now, I know that can sometimes be upsetting*, but in the case like yesterday for example.. I was at the nail shop getting my fill like i always do and im seated next to an elderly man. He was waiting on a woman who i assumed took care of him. He approached me with small talk like what colors did I pick and such, then before he was so rudely shut down by his caretaker he asked me that exact question. That brief pause he took before saying “originally” was after he saw my facial expression change (it only changed because i do get a little irritated after the disappointment in their face when i dont respond with “mexico”) I answered him as I always do, “I was born and raised in Los Angeles, California.” He said, “ Oh yes yes, I can tell youre not from around here.” I was like... “whaaaaat why?” he said, “you have an accent. Not anything heavy but its there very subtly and it gives you away.” I wasn’t exactly surprised because my sister and I have been told many times we have a california accent (whatever that means, dude) 

Its something I never really think about TBH. There are plenty of nice things out here. These things listed above are about as bad as Ive had it and they happen sporadically. I’m grateful to be privileged enough to be able to speak up and defend myself and family when needed, but am saddened that there are plenty of families that cant. and its not that they never got the chance to “fit in” but that the midwest is full of people that only moved here a few years ago with kids being as old as 7 just barely starting to translate for them. Especially minorities like hispanics and asians. Its no wonder I get stupid responses like those. Theyre not used to it like they are back home in LA. Its crazy thinking about this because this spins off into so many more things and im just barely scratching the flesh. I feel like Ive got so much to say but then it’ll be a whole other shit post. I just stayed thinking after talking to that old man at the nail shop. Left an impression for some reason. 

anyway gotta get back to trying to start to pack. I’ve got ZERO things ready and todays the last day i have to pack lmao. fuck. 

#Long post #havent posted in a while #its been a weird ass week #personal post