Pretty much just nerding out through comics, progressive politics and activism, queerity, and various fandoms. Currently heavy on the Tolkien, though you should see plenty superheroes (DC and Marvel), A:tLA, Harry Potter, and anything Whedon.

For my blog focusing on the Middle East and religion, check out zaatarwitholives.tumblr.com

 

composed-of-wires:

havendancehero:

bigbardafree:

this video is entitled “tumblr feminists” and i prepared myself to get angry before watching it but damn if it isn’t spot on

"What they are really saying is that they hate women. They hate women with opinions who are honest and angry."

I thought this was gonna be cissexist and then it wasnt

readabookson:

The Trouble Between Us: An Uneasy History of White and Black Women in the Feminist Movement

https://anonfiles.com/file/877975186837dbbbcd57d841ffe5c26e

Segregated Sisterhood: Racism Politics American Feminism

https://anonfiles.com/file/bbe6cc9f05335a8144fa0be2098a06e8

Black Sexual Politics: African Americans, Gender, and the New Racism

https://anonfiles.com/file/6923ebcd172d45425d86da18c1926644

Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment

https://anonfiles.com/file/b4994a81e4c9747e42e1d5209e206dae

Ain’t I a Woman: Black Women and Feminism

https://anonfiles.com/file/81b95aa8e335602d1627e178361c8a72

Feminism Is For Everybody: Passionate Politics

https://anonfiles.com/file/5a31a895c6f4d226dd0ef07f88c8cbfd

The Womanist Reader: The First Quarter Century of Womanist Thought

https://anonfiles.com/file/dd9f429a320aab3076764568ae9be545

Black Feminist Voices in Politics

https://anonfiles.com/file/fb475479b90b47a6eebaf426840c9a29

Living for the Revolution: Black Feminist Organizations, 1968–1980

https://anonfiles.com/file/22aa61fc8933bb1dd59539d6a2662720

oberlinlatinafeminisms:

Femenistas Clandestinas: An Underground Feminims Photo Project

Wes Ruiz

Sylvia Rivera (1951-2002) was a Puerto Rican and Venezuelan trans and queer activist from New York City.  She is well known for her influence in the social justice struggles of the 1960’s and 70’s, including the Gay Liberation Movement and Third World Liberation Movements.  She participated in the Stonewall Riots and famously fought her way on stage at the 1970 Christopher Street Liberation March (soon to become the Gay Pride Parade) and called out the mainstreaming and destruction of the Gay Liberation Movement.  Sylvia Rivera is a fierce reminder to live, think, feel and act complexly.  From her complex experience as a person with multiple marginalized identities, she thought and fought back for queer and trans youth of color, especially those who were experiencing poverty and homelessness.  She knew that even those who represent marginalized identities still had the capacity to perpetuate structural oppression.  The self-proclaimed “feminists” who condemned her and used transphobic rhetoric to exclude her from participating in their activist circles were just as responsible for perpetuating patriarchy as anyone else.  People with power and privilege decontextualized and appropriated social justice rhetoric to serve their own interests.  They were mainstreaming liberation movements, moving from collectivity to privatization and subsequently separating the theory and struggle from the people who created it in the first place. These thoughts, the work and the actions of the most vulnerable populations were being turned around on them and used to exclude them.  I remember Sylvia Rivera’s struggle and her unwavering commitment to truly radical, compassionate and complex activism when I feel helpless and alone.  Her strength continues to be an inspiration for me to fiercely advocate for myself and other highly vulnerable communities, even if it seems no one will listen. She taught me how to create theory and action starting from my most intimate understandings of my own experience and deep love for my people.  

Victoria Velasco

My grandma Alicia migrated from Zacatecas, Mexico, to the barrio of Boyle Heights in Los Angeles in the 1970s. She was a survivor of domestic violence and a single mother of six children. Her 8th grade education in a rural school permitted her to work at several low-paying jobs while in the U.S. When I was a child, I was left in her care while my parents were at work. She would make me tacos de papa when she was feeling extra generous, and she would watch 1930s Mexican films whenever they would air on television. She would take me all around the city with her on the bus, since she didn’t own a car, and she would often tell me how much she missed her father and siblings who still lived on the ranch where she grew up in Mexico.

In 2005, she lost her life to cancer, and her children, including my father, have since grown apart from one another without her unifying presence in their lives. When I remember my grandma, I remember a matriarch that spent so much energy loving me and teaching me about my (and her) cultural heritage. I remember a woman who worked the night shifts so that her children could be the first in their families to attend college. I recall a mujer that never spoke to me much about the history of physical & emotional violence inflicted upon her by her ex-husband, who fathered five of her six children, but I do remember her pride for being, as she would say, both a mother and a father. Her life is a powerful embodiment of feminism for me because she taught me that we needed to reject the machismo found in my grandfather, my dad, and other men in our communities. She knew, as I do now, that it is the women who take up the reigns and fill the many gaps that Latino men often create.

Ana Robelo

My Mom and my Mami. These mujeres are stubborn, focused, generous, and intelligent. They’ll tell you how it is but they know how to laugh, and know how to appreciate life. These are the women that taught me to be resourceful, to make use of home remedies, to buy things on sale, to pay attention, to pick things up quickly, to ask for the things I deserve, and to do things for myself. When I was younger, I remember going on long walks with Mami and having to work to keep up with her as she wound in and out of dirt paths with agility, pulling me over, under, and through. She would always make me eat lots of oranges, cut up with salt on the side. She’s healthy and put together, a Tica on a mission, a world traveler with serious cooking skills. While she’s reached a point of comfort now, she never forgets her home and the journey she made to Connecticut with her siblings to work and where she raised my mother by herself.

My Mom has always shown me that it’s ok to leave things behind and start over, that as long as you have family and as long as you have yourself, it’s ok to be scared at first, you’ll adjust. While you may be pulled between places, you can take your home with you. As I go through college very far from home, I think of how my mom left for Costa Rica at 18 with only her broken Spanish to have her world turned upside down. A few years later she moved to Nicaragua with my father following the destruction of the revolution to join a new family.

They have kept our family afloat time and time again. Even though they value the men in their lives, they have always known when to put up boundaries, when to put themselves first and assert their independence. While Mami and my Mom have their differences, they have survived together in this country and fulfilled their dreams of making connections and relationships beyond it. I hope I can match their courage and strength to do the same.

Ashley Suarez

She is my manager, my mentor, my second mother. Yolie Aleman-Rodriguez is one of my biggest influences. With her story of oppression and resistance, she was able to open my eyes to the harsh realities of a heteropatriarchal society as well as the power of being your own person and finding happiness. Being a Latina woman, her family constantly reminded her of her assumed future: a house wife. After running away from a home that prevented her from being her own person, she discovered her strengths and has since then accomplished all of her goals. Named the 2012 Woman of the Year by Mujer, Inc., she has taught me to do what makes me happy because at the end of the day, I am the only person who matters.

Jennifer Murdock

The woman who is my Latina feminist icon is my mom, Valerie. She grew up in the projects of El Barrio (NYC) and was the first one in her family to go to college. She’s now a lawyer and single mother, helping to put my brother and I through college. She always taught me to be myself and has always supported my dreams and always makes sure that no matter how I identify or what I do I am welcome and wanted at home. My mom has taught me that it’s okay to be silly while being hardworking, and that it’s okay to not always be confident and “strong.” I aspire to be even a quarter of the woman that my mother is.

The reason I put out Bow Down is because I woke up, I went into the studio, I had a chant in my head, it was aggressive, it was angry, it wasn’t the Beyoncé that wakes up every morning. It was the Beyoncé that was angry. It was the Beyoncé that felt the need to defend herself…

Beyoncé (via fuckyesbeyonce)

this is the thing i don’t understand about feminists getting up in arms about beyonce saying “bow down bitches”

she’s clearly defending herself against critics

to me, the slur bitch only has power in men’s hands - and it’s often used to police women’s anger and aggressiveness (“that bitch”)

ironically, racist white feminists are policing beyonce’s anger through their criticisms - i wonder if it might in part be due to the fact that some of the anger is likely directed toward them

the most backwards thing i’ve seen is people acting like beyonce is “creating competition” between women - when she is literally RESPONDING to this kind of catty infighting to defend herself and even addresses this kind of vitriol with the Adichie quote

she is situating herself as an ambitious woman with status who doesn’t apologize for it and who won’t stand for being torn down

it’s sad that feminists are threatened by that - it shows how deep their internalized misogyny (and of course, racialized misogyny) runs

(via theroguefeminist)

shoesforall:

Why I consider Beyonce A Feminist
I consider Beyonce a feminist for many reasons but the one I want to talk about right now is in regards to her model casting.
This is a still from her Yonce video. Besides Beyonce, of course, we see Chanel Iman, Jourdan Dunn and Joan Smalls. These models are the most prominent Black high fashion models of the last ten years. The industry has told these women over and over that they are in competition with one another; that if one is cast in a show that the others are not needed; that only one of them can be The Black High Fashion model at any given time. 
Beyonce is calling bullshit on that attitude. She put all three of them in her video because the “competition” between them is created by a racist industry that believes in the idea that there can only be one outstanding Black model at a time, a tokenism that aims to set these women against each other.
But this image, and the video they are all in, is an attack on that attitude. It declares that there is no reason all these women can’t be successful. This video brings a group of young women together who have been set in competition against each other. Beyonce is a powerful woman, possibly the most influential entertainer in American/Western pop culture, she is using that power to deconstruct a notion that women, in general, and Black women, in the culture of fashion, must be in competition with each other.
Beyonce seems to be saying that there is should be no competition between these women, real or perceived, but solidarity. I am not saying that the message is that they all have to be BFFs but that the industry created “tension” between them is based on ideas of white privilege and racism. After years of fashion people trying to tear them apart, Beyonce has brought them together, at least for one job. They are only in competition for jobs because a racist power structure has decided they should be. Beyonce directly challenges that notion by casting the three of them.
Beyonce’s casting embraces a vision of Blackness that includes multiracial models (Chanel Iman, who is Asian-African-American just as Kyla Ross is), Latina (Joan Smalls) and Jamaican-British (Jourdan Dunn).
Beyonce is a feminist. Don’t listen to anyone who tells you differently.

shoesforall:

Why I consider Beyonce A Feminist

I consider Beyonce a feminist for many reasons but the one I want to talk about right now is in regards to her model casting.

This is a still from her Yonce video. Besides Beyonce, of course, we see Chanel Iman, Jourdan Dunn and Joan Smalls. These models are the most prominent Black high fashion models of the last ten years. The industry has told these women over and over that they are in competition with one another; that if one is cast in a show that the others are not needed; that only one of them can be The Black High Fashion model at any given time. 

Beyonce is calling bullshit on that attitude. She put all three of them in her video because the “competition” between them is created by a racist industry that believes in the idea that there can only be one outstanding Black model at a time, a tokenism that aims to set these women against each other.

But this image, and the video they are all in, is an attack on that attitude. It declares that there is no reason all these women can’t be successful. This video brings a group of young women together who have been set in competition against each other. Beyonce is a powerful woman, possibly the most influential entertainer in American/Western pop culture, she is using that power to deconstruct a notion that women, in general, and Black women, in the culture of fashion, must be in competition with each other.

Beyonce seems to be saying that there is should be no competition between these women, real or perceived, but solidarity. I am not saying that the message is that they all have to be BFFs but that the industry created “tension” between them is based on ideas of white privilege and racism. After years of fashion people trying to tear them apart, Beyonce has brought them together, at least for one job. They are only in competition for jobs because a racist power structure has decided they should be. Beyonce directly challenges that notion by casting the three of them.

Beyonce’s casting embraces a vision of Blackness that includes multiracial models (Chanel Iman, who is Asian-African-American just as Kyla Ross is), Latina (Joan Smalls) and Jamaican-British (Jourdan Dunn).

Beyonce is a feminist. Don’t listen to anyone who tells you differently.

wocinsolidarity:

oberlinlatinafeminisms:

Feministas Clandestinas: An Underground Feminims Photo Project part 2

part 1

Michael Simonds

Maria Simonds, my mother, taught me many things as I was growing up . She taught me how strong a woman is and how caring they can be. She taught me forgiveness was a virtue and that love should not be given freely. She put everything into raising her family without losing respect for herself. She was probably the most influential person in my entire life. This paragraph could not begin to capture her grace and her strength which is why I chose her as my mujer.

Marcelo Vinces, Ph. D

I chose Manuelita Saenz as my feminista clandestina. Back in 2005, a friend of mine from Venezuela lent me her book entitled Las más hermosas cartas de amor entre Manuela y Simón, acompañadas de los Diarios de Quito y Paita, así como de otros documentos, or The most beautiful love letters between Manuela and Simon, accompanied by Quito and Paita Diaries and other documents. My parents had taught me lots about Ecuadorian history, and I had taken a great course on Latin American history in college where I did a final project on one chapter in the history of Ecuador, so I knew lots about Simon Bolivar, the George Washington of Latin America, but never learned about Manuela Saenz, this very prominent hero of the wars for independence of Ecuador and the other parts of the New World colonies of Spain. Reading this book and discussing it with my friend reminded me of how much recorded and official history leaves out.

Reading Manuela’s thoughts in her letters and diaries, you’d think it was written by a 21st century woman, having, for example, saved the life of Simon Bolivar during an attack, and serving as a spy for the armed forces fighting the Spaniards. However, Manuela dies in exile in Peru, poor and cursed by enemies of Bolivar who exile her from Colombia and Ecuador. She was far ahead of her time, and in her way, an underground feminist.

After reading the book, I asked my mom if she knew of Manuela Saenz, and she replied, “¿Manuelita? Claro que sí.” That’s how she’s called by Ecuadorians. Manuelita, a heroine spoken fondly not in books and classes but revered in collective memory.

Arielle Lewis-Zavala

My tía Cipriana

She is the only woman I have personally known to tell off my dad (her little brother). She raised her 5 kids mostly by herself. When she’s warm, I trust that it’s sincere and genuine because she doesn’t seem to waste her time on bullshit compulsory mannerisms that so many women are socialized to engage in, like acting approachable when we don’t want to be.

Chelsea Martinez, Ph. D

Before I knew what other grandmothers were like, what other religious people were like, what other people who did domestic work were like, and what feminists were like, I knew my grandmother Celia. Most of what I first knew about bodily labor comes from watching her and hearing her stories. In graduate school, doing organic chemistry research, I didn’t have many role models for the intellectual side of the job—the thinking, writing and performing—but the other side—the long hours, the heavy lifting, the utilitarian wardrobe, the hands dry and polish-free from daily dishwashing and waste disposal—felt familiar and respectable, knowing she had spent decades doing similar work towards very different ends in the homes of other families as a young woman in Costa Rica, and later raising my mother and aunts and uncles in California.

Dyaami D’Orazio

This picture is about my mother, my mommy, mi mama, Maria D’Orazio, who is my #1 Latina Feminist.

She immigrated to New York City (the Bronx) from Venezuela at the age of 15. She lived with her sister and braved the subway for four hours a day just to go to high school. She got a job and did well in school, made friends and joined the tennis team, and despite the danger and difficulty of living in the South Bronx, managed to make a life for herself. At 19, she owned a building in the South Bronx, collecting rent and evicting tenants, and a year later gave birth to me. My mother managed to own a building, continue school until she had to drop out, and began to raise me and then my younger sister.

Skipping forward a bit, my mother pushes me to play music, play sports, cook and clean, read etc., telling me that I could not end up like her. And here I am at Oberlin College. I think about the fights she had with my father, with schools, with Coaches or counselors (or anyone who got in her way, really), to get what she thought was necessary for us (three girls) to get an education and become independent young women.

No one asked my mother to get up every day and work hard. No one asked her to provide for her kids, to cook their meals and make sure they did their homework. That came from her heart because she could not have what she gives to us: a life larger than children and worrying about money. Her feminism comes out in the strength she had, and on occasion in the strength she did not have, in her conversations with us and in the insistence that we have to go after what we want and we should never take “No” for an answer.

My mother fought hard and taught me to fight hard, to get me here and also to bring my education back in a way that is concrete, accessible, and life changing. I don’t think she knows what she started by sending me here, but when I get home I am going to try and show her…how we can rise up and heal, how we can help others understand how and why we are beautiful in all of the ways, and how love and passion make a world of difference. LatinaFeminism4Lyfe.

This is Part 2 of the photo project we reblogged earlier!

Feminism is not a rulebook, but a discussion, a conversation, a process.

Tavi Gevinson  (via feministquotes)

BOOM!

Feminism is also not a country club, doesn’t require credentials, doesn’t require White supremacist approval and should not have a separate set of standards for Black women/women of colour versus White women, where a pulse and White skin is all they need but I have to be bell hooks.

(via gradientlair)

I LOVE that Tavi is a ~teenage girl. Take that “male feminists” so ready to educate the young’uns. (via intersectionalfandom)

Porn is now so deeply embedded in our culture that it has become synonymous with sex to such a point that to criticize porn is to get slapped with the label anti-sex.

But what if you are a feminist who is pro-sex in the real sense of the word, pro that wonderful, fun, and deliciously creative force that bathes the body in delight and pleasure, and what you actually against is porn sex? A kind of sex that is debased, dehumanized, formulaic, and generic, a kind of sex not based on individual fantasy, play, or imagination, but one that is the result of an industrial product created by those who get excited not by bodily contact but by market penetration and profits? Where, then, do you fit in the pro-sex, anti-sex dichotomy when pro-porn equals pro-sex?