Marsha P. Johnson
One of the leaders of the LGBT+ movement in America, she was known not only for her strength and bravery as an activist, but also for her boundless generosity. If you complimented an accessory of hers, she’d give it to you.
This is part one in a series of animated portraits I’ve been working on this summer of women I admire!
Knowing that trans women of color started the movement in the united states and were literally immediately erased and excluded from what they started is the most deeply jading knowledge.
It is the original sin of the so-called queer community and it damns it from the cradle.
no white gay boy will ever reblog this, watch:
no white gay will reblog this
no white lgb person will reblog this
Without Stonewall, without the efforts of Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera, the LGBTQ Community wouldn’t be where it is today. Don’t forget the roots, don’t forget the catalyst.
and then TERFs wanna be like, “hmm well the LGBT community existed before Stonewall!”
but like…Becky, of course LGBTQ+ people existed before Stonewall. We’ve all existed since the beginning of time. But the movement got a shock to its senses, a jump-start, a rocket-into-space when that glass shattered via Marsha P. Johnson, and when Sylvia Rivera was up on-stage protesting guess who was on the sidelines heckling her?
The same fuckers who won’t ever reblog or acknowledge this
My apologies to the original poster as I photo captured this post to add to the thread-I reposted this last year for pride and expect to repost it every year I have left-it’s our history people.
Marsha P. Johnson allegedly died of suicide in 1992, and her death was never investigated. Even I, a mere prole, could catch the “she was murdered” vibes from the circumstances surrounding the discovery of her body.
Without a trans black woman, LGBT+ rights would not exist. Never forget. Never “pay it no mind”.
R E M E M B E R
And whatever you do, don’t watch that awful movie Stonewall. Go watch a documentary on Marsha P. Johnson instead.
Jerome is adorable and I hope he knows this.
After months, he is, and he just told me “Haha, this is funny. I’m happy it’s helping people!”
I think he doesn’t realize that he’s known *worldwide*
Always reblog Jerome.
Is he now aware of his fame?
It’s really amazing how happy people get when they find this post omg
I FOUND IT I FOUND IT I FUCKING FOUND IT AAAAAAAH YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS MADE ME FEEL
He’s doing fine, last time he shown me his fav pic of a red panda which is this one
On hard days I wonder how Jerome is doing
Therapist: Weed doesn’t do much on me and I must admit I’m kinda disappointed.
Therapist: Do you smoke?
Therapist; What’s up with you and wanting domestic rats.
Me: I’m gonna get a rat and call him Jerome just to piss you off.
Therapist: How dare you.
Jerome is still not aware of his fame and idk how to announce him.
Me, at 2pm: I’m sorry I’m going to be late!
Therapist: Your appointment was this morning at 11:30am, Damien.
For a bit of context here: Around two months ago I went to a friend’s who happened the live on the same street as Jerome, which I didn’t know. He was really surprised to see me and came to check on me, asking me why I was here with a bit of concern on his voice. And this take place earlier this month:
Therapist: So your friend lives in the same street than I?
Me: Yes. Town’s short I guess.
Therapist: Were you really going to your friend…?
Me: Yes?? Why else would I be here?
Therapist: A lot of drug deals happen in this street and I see often teenagers and young adults coming and buy stuffs. I was a bit worried for you.
Me, by text: Hey, you just walk by me!
Therapist, by text: Oh sorry. I didn’t see you.
Therapist, by text: Wait. Were you at the tattoo shop?
Me, by text, totally at the tattoo shop: You have no proof.
Therapist: You need vacations.
Me: I’m broke.
Therapist: Oh yeah.
Therapist: You still need vacations tho.
Me: Jerome, I am still broke.
Me, heavily dissociating: I don’t exist-
Therapist: Can I touch you to prove you that you do?
Me: Dinner first.
Therapist: Damien, you moron.
Therapist: Why don’t you send a mail to your psychiatrist when you have a bad mood swing?
Me: Like what? ‘Hey Joël wassup, I’ve been very suicidal lately last night I wanted to die. Hope you have rad vacations and the weed is good save some good kush for me, kissy kissy.’ ?
Me: You’re as bad as me with human interactions Jerome, y’know.
Therapist: You know, people will still love you even if you don’t offer them things all the time. You don’t have to do that.
Me, after complaining for the 25 times about my birth father: Idk if you noticed, but I’m full of anger against him.
Therapist: Oh, really, I never noticed. You know, you should turn that anger into indifference. It would help you.
Me: Unholy gods, I wish it was me.
As an addition, more than half of my friends want Jerome to adopt me and refer to him as “Therapist dad”.
He’s aware of it and think it’s hilarious.
As an update, Jerome gave my appointment to someone’s else today so we were both in the waiting room, confused and he walked in, patted my head and said sorry but honestly it was hilarious.
The secretary came to tell me that Jerome actually forgot to write me down on the appointment list.
This is a 100% normal situation with Jerome as my Therapist.
Me: I always wondered, are you queer?
Therapist: I am not.
Therapist: Or am I?
Therapist: Are you sure you’re not becoming roommate with (name) because of pity? Kinda sacrificing yourself?
Me: No, I want it!!
Therapist: Finally, you’re not forcing yourself for the others! And you’re doing something you want! I’m proud of you!
Me: You’re more of a dad than my own father.
Therapist: That’s not very hard.
Therapist: You went to the gaypride?
Me: Yeah, I went.
Therapist: Was it something you enjoyed?
Me: Mh. Yeah. Sorta.
Therapist: Did you see some bears?
Me: Jerome wh-
Therapist: That’s the only term I know outside of the LGTB one, I wanted to use it.
Therapist: Hey I wanna show you this super funny image I found the other day.
Therapist: *turns his screen and show me THIS*
Me, not being able to come to my appointment and having to call him: I’m sorry, it’s all my fault, I’m so so so sorr-
Therapist: I dare you to say sorry one more time. I dare you.
Me: Hey, I brought you coffee. And croissants too, but I ate them. *puts Starbucks coffee in front of him*
Therapist: Oh that’s nice!!… Oh my name is on it!!
Therapist: It’s wholesome but… *very confused and silently*… How do I drink it?
Me: I guess he’s still my friend?
Therapist: Considering what you told me and how much you wanna beat him to death, he’s not. You pretty much hate him despite knowing him for years.
Me: Why did I need to come here to realize that.
Therapist: Because that’s my job to help you to understand some stuff. Also because you’re way too kind and you would let someone punch you in the guts and still consider them as your friend while they stab you.
Me: I don’t need that kind of call out, Jerome.
Me: Honestly, (thing that is totally fucked up for any ‘sane’ person) is normal, right?
Therapist: You’re just a fucked up bitch.
Me: I do agree with the fucked up bitch part.
Therapist: That’s a start!
Me: I think I don’t exist.
Therapist: Listen, you do exist, and if you didn’t, someone would have to create you because the world would be a much sadder place.
Me: Jerome, how dare you saying something so sweet when I’m dissociating.
Sometimes I say self loathing things to my therapist and he looks at me dead in the eyes before saying “You fucking moron.” and tbh same