#but today i found out that my work and the youth group have a negative history with each other

[jayswing101]

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[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #6

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Moonstone’s Charity

“The moon is beautiful, huh!”

By the time that we exited the Shiseido Parlor, it was already completely dark outside. The moon loomed a faint blue, as if overlooking the night view of Ginza. Putting his coat back on, Richard silently averted his eyes when I looked back at him with an “isn’t it”. At any rate, I had gotten wholly used to eating out with this guy on Saturdays after work. It was worth making him puddings as payback, I thought.

“Speaking of which, the stone you sold to today’s customers was a ‘stone of the moon’, wasn’t it?”

“Please call it ‘moonstone’. There are other rock specimens that are referred to as ‘stones of the moon’. Confusing the meaning of the words is deplorable.”

“Is that so?! Aight, I’ll take it to heart.”

Today’s customers were the parents of a naïve young lady, and the goods they bought were a moonstone jewelry set for her. It seemed that the young lady, who still had childish facial traits, was going to get married, so her parents ordered a necklace from Etranger for her to take along when the time came. Bearing a rainbow light over a milky blue color, the cabochon-cut moonstone was combined with white diamonds for the necklace and bracelet. It overflowed with a soulful beauty, almost as if it had borrowed the glow of an aurora from a Scandinavian sky.

Apparently, the moonstone, which was also one of the June birthstones, had been familiarized as a power stone since the distant past, and was renowned especially as a stone that celebrated the well-being and fortune of women. Having the commemorative jewelry delivered to her as a surprise, the young lady had cried until her eyes were bright red, but she recovered by way of a sweet royal milk tea, expressing gratitude to her parents with a sniffling nose. I believed that there were several forms of joy depending on each person, and what I had witnessed today was unmistakably one of them.

Even as we headed to the parking lot where Richard’s jaguar was, the moon followed us from the gaps between the buildings. As I walked while looking up and repeating, “It’s really pretty, so pretty”, Richard seemed exasperated.

“‘The moon is beautiful’, huh. Are college students not familiar with anecdotes of their own country’s literary figures nowadays?”

“Don’t they read that stuff? I’m in the faculty of economics, so there’s lots of people with names written in horizontal characters on our textbooks. Like Marx Weber or Mankiw.”

“What about Futabatei Shimei or Natsume Souseki?”

“I’ll ask you back: have you read them?”

“Yes.”

Uwah. As I cried out, the gorgeous jeweler sighed. “Honestly, today’s youths,” he said.

I ended up laughing at him without thinking.

“What is it?”

“You say ‘youths’ but you’re pretty young yourself.”

“I merely disagree with the worldwide trend of thinking that classical literature is an enjoyment for old age. The world, matured by the various interpretations of our ancestors, is deep and wide-ranging, as well as something that envelopes our hearts, just like stones.”

“Feels like the part where stones come up is ‘just as expected of Richard-san’.”

“I will take that as a compliment.”

“I am complimenting you. I have the feeling that I get smarter when we talk.”

“For you to be the kind who is satisfied with just ‘having a feeling’, my existence must be a harmful one.”

“I shall take this to heart... Aah, by the way, in sociology or some other class, I heard that the phrase ‘had a feeling’ has increased too much in pop music. Why is that? I guess it’s because, when they assert, ‘I can be strong!’ instead of, ‘I have the feeling I can be strong, I find myself inwardly wanting to retort with a, ‘Nope, nope, it’s not like that’ and the mood cools off.”

“Unfortunately, I have not studied the trends of modern Japan’s younglings. But if we are to speak of such things, even the power invoked by stones is a matter of ‘having a feeling’.”

“Is it okay for a jeweler to be saying that?”

“We are already out of business hours. Besides, this is not a negative subject in particular.”

Having arrived at the parking lot, Richard glanced at me and folded his arms lightly. He was a beautiful man from the top of his head to the tips of his toenails, like a doll made of moonlight. I was used to looking at his figure, but beautiful things will be beautiful. I could look at him without ever getting tired and it would put me in a good mood, just like the moon.

“W-What? What’s up?”

“I mean that people can become strong just from ‘having a feeling’. The power of belief is namely the force of human beings who seek hope even in a small gleam. Is that not a wonderful thing? On nights like these, when we ‘have the feeling’ that we are being protected by the light of the moon, people are sure to be in some sort of calm mood.” Saying this, as if to copy me or something, Richard looked up at the night sky above the buildings of Ginza and murmured, “The moon is truly beautiful.” He then smoothly got on the jaguar’s driver seat. I followed him on the passenger seat.

Still, this car’s seat base did an exquisite inclination no matter how many times I sat on it. It felt like a chair sticking to your body.

“Well, are you okay with dropping off at Takadanobaba?”

“Thank you. By the way, should I reply with the ‘I could die now’ already?”

Richard’s face at that moment was a spectacle. His mouth and beautiful eyebrows distorted as if to say, “Haah?”. His eyes stared dangerously at me.

“I mean, isn’t that the context? Futabate Shimei and Natsume Souseki, right?”

“I love you”.

Apparently, the literary masters of the Meiji Era had racked their brains about to how to translate a sentence that didn’t originally exist in the Japanese language. This would be a standard drinking party talk. Well, I didn’t know if there was a standard for all kinds of drinking parties, but just recently, during a drinking party we held with a group of men from the Department of Letter’s Faculty of Japanese Literature, we got fired-up over that topic. “Girls like this kind of talk, so you guys from the Faculty of Economics should also keep it in mind every once in a while,” they told us. Futabate Shimei used “I could die now” as a code for “I am yours” and Natsume Souseki used the anecdote “the moon is beautiful, isn’t it” as what was claimed to be a good anecdote for “I love you”. We were thankful for the trivia. That being said, none of the members who attended the drinking party had girlfriends, so I had thought there would be no opportunity to use this trivia, but to my surprise...

Richard, who had been stiff for a moment, exhaled with a loud “haaah” and turned the engine key. The body of the iron machine shuddered.

“That was terrifying.”

“So even you got freaked out! I can say some Japanese-like things too.”

“I will proceed to kick you if you say the same thing again. Be quiet for the time being.” Richard pulled the car out of the parking lot from backward, and as he stepped onto the accelerator and we got out into the street, the car trundled on with us in silence for a while. After we had passed four or five buildings, the beautiful jeweler opened his mouth again, “These words are not meant to be spoken lightly. A sentence taken out of context is like a lonely stone removed from a bracelet. In what kind of situation did people say, ‘The moon is beautiful’ or under what circumstances did they think, ‘I could die now’? What matters is the process until things arrived to that point, and not scraps of words. In the past, during the times when the people of this country were not as filled with imported mentalities as they are now, they probably understood this very well.”

“Hey, why’d you think of reading Natsume Souseki?”

Richard didn’t respond. I’d known for a while now that there were lots of things this guy didn’t want to answer, but his silence at the question was unexpected. Was something up?

Something related to moments when he might feel like saying things such as “the moon is beautiful” or “I could die now”.

It was clearly not a topic that I should pry too much about. Pretending to have found something interesting out the window, I put on a smile with no particular connotation. Leaning my body against the window, I looked up at the sky. “Ah, I can still see the moon.”

“You do not say. Is it beautiful?”

“Yup, but you’re more beautiful.”

Richard’s hand instantaneously glided in a swift motion. He pressed the car stereo switch. What played at an explosively loud volume wasn’t the Finnish rock that I had listened to before. It was a sutra in an ethnic-sounding female voice. That was all I could say. What was this? As I asked in a loud voice what language that song was in, he said it was Bengali. Was it an Indian song then? I couldn’t talk to him unless I shouted in one breath.

“HEY! IF I PISSED YOU OFF, SERIOUSLY, I’M SORRY!”

Richard’s mouth moved in the form of an “I cannot hear you”. It seemed he wasn’t in the mood for conversation. But he didn’t look angry. The corners of his lips were smiling just slightly. Like he wanted to say that this was so stupid it made him laugh. He appeared a lot more relaxed than when listing up the names of those literary figures, so I became kinda happy.

When I got out of the car, the southern country atmosphere was gone at once. At the roundabout in Takadanobaba, Richard took off with the jaguar as soon as he said goodbye. As the same old habit, for whatever reason, I ended up watching him off until I couldn’t see him anymore.

As I looked up the blue moon was floating in the black sky, unchanged. This was also a matter of “having a feeling”, but this emotion I was feeling today at this moment was a definite form of happiness too.

Honestly, the moon was beautiful tonight.

[vicarfelix]

A Team Matter

__

Felix Millstone x Fem. Captain

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2,036

“This is our mission. You just happen to be the captain of it.”

__

Her team was like family to her. From the young and youthful Parvati to the auto mechanic SAM, every single one of her crew had a special place in her heart. Truth be told, none of the missions she had been on so far would’ve been possible without their help along the way. The Captain admired their hard work ethic and their loyalty. It was rare for any of them to question her judgement or decision making. Whatever she would do or say, they would be there to back her up. That was truly special to her.

That wasn’t to say that they didn’t bump heads with each other every now and then. That was life in a nutshell. It was impossible to get along all the time. 6 different people and 1 robot...all with completely different personalities. It was inevitable for there to be tension and disagreements at times.

The person who had grinded the Captain’s gears today was none other than the esteemed priest himself. She respected Max a lot. She put a lot of faith into him. He had an interesting backstory that had a couple of holes in it. She knew he had been to prison, spent a huge portion of his life searching for...well, that as the part she never quite understood. He was a trained hacker and served as an important asset to her team. That was why she had no issue with deciding to help him with a favor. She traveled with Max to Fallbrook to find an old scholar friend of his. Although, once she arrived and located him, she discovered that “friend” was not at all the case.

She was able to detect during the conversation that Max had lied to her in order to be sure she’d accept the task of his favor. She did not take kindly to lying, especially when Max knew what the bigger objective at hand was. It was her decision to make whether Max’s request was worth taking the time to do. The fact that he had fibbed in order to manipulate her decision did not make her happy. It infuriated her beyond description.

She scolded Max and expressed her anger for what he had done. He seemed genuinely sorry, acknowledging that he let his own personal feelings get in the way of what was important. She chewed him out royally and even made him cower a little bit. Thankfully, the Captain had brought Parvati along and she was able to fizzle things out before the Captain did something she’d soon regret. She seriously considered firing him on the spot and leaving him behind in Fallbrook. In the end, she decided that wouldn’t be right. She couldn’t leave anybody behind.

Still, she made sure that he knew if he ever pulled anything like that again then he’d be gone. The trek back to The Unreliable was quiet. Not even Parvati dared to say anything to try and ease the mood. Usually, Captain tended to avoid being spotted by raptidons and go around them. However, she had some serious negative energy to burn off and she made it a point to shoot at every single one they passed.

Eventually, Captain entered the ship, closing the door behind her selected crew. ADA greeted them per usual, her voice echoing through the ship. Parvati was quick to climb the stairs to the upper level because she could barely handle the tension anymore. Max knew that the Captain had nothing more to say to him and that she likely didn’t want to see him for the rest of the night. So, he returned to his bunk and called it a day.

She usually would huddle with her crew to wind the evening down and discuss the game plan for the next day, but truthfully she just wanted to be alone for a little bit.

The rest of the crew was upstairs sitting around the kitchen area. They found it odd that Max didn’t stick around to chat, but it all made sense when Parvati explained in a hushed voice.

“I would leave Captain alone until tomorrow if I were y’all,” She advised; “She’s madder than a stuck primal.”

This surely got everybody’s attention, especially Felix’s. He always worried about Captain. Even more so now that they were an item. He knew she could handle herself and anything thrown her way, but he still didn’t like it when she was upset about something. Nyoka, who was standing at the counter, chimed in soon after;

“Why’s that, P? What happened?” She asked for Parvati to elaborate.

Parvati looked to make sure Max wasn’t in the room before continuing;

“Mr. Vicar lied to her and she found out. She hollered at him and I was sure she was going to let him go. She went straight to her quarters when we got back just now.” She said, taking a seat next to Felix.

Ellie let out a low whistle. She was standing at the head of the table, arms crossed and brows raised;

“She always checks in before turning in for the night. That must’ve been some lie to make Captain that upset.” She stated.

Felix was fiddling with the tossball that he always kept in his pocket. The wheels in his head were turning. He knew how Captain felt about traitors, liars, people who abuse their power. She wasn’t a fan when someone told a lie for personal gain, but even Felix knew it was peculiar for her to be this frustrated over it.

“I’ll say. That’s not normal at all.” Felix claimed.

Knowing that there wouldn’t be a team meeting, the rest of the crew scattered into their own rooms just to start the day over tomorrow. Felix, on the other hand, decided to pay her a visit once he knew she had some time to mellow out. He crept quietly downstairs, careful not to wake anybody up who might have been asleep. He could be a bit heavy footed and he had his fair share of being yelled at for activating SAM in the middle of the night. To avoid this, he was sure to remove his shoes to soften his footfalls.

He came to the Captain’s doorway, peeking his head in to see her standing at the long tabletop, leaning against it. He watched intently as her eyes gazed over the planet in front of her, deep in thought. She eventually noticed his stare which prompted him to offer a bright grin.

“Hey, Felix,” She said in a rather monotone voice; “I’m guessing you’re here to check on me.”

He shrugged. She was half-right. He did indeed want to check on her, but he also just wanted to see how her day went. Although, based on what Parvati had said, he was sure it didn’t go so well. He took that as an invitation to enter and approach her. He stood next to her, his hand finding the small of her back;

“I just wanted to see my favorite gal,” He said cheekily; “And to check on you.”

She knew once Felix figured out that something had gone awry that he’d come bopping in to see what was up. Truth was, she was relieved to see him and to have someone who was always willing to listen.

“You know the situation I’m in,” She began; “The situation I’ve dragged all of you into.”

“I think it’s fair to say we brought ourselves into it. You didn’t exactly ask me to be a part of this crew...I asked you for a job.” Felix corrected.

“But I didn’t tell you my mission until after I hired you,” She retorted, moving across from him to sit on the bed; “I’ve been tasked by some crazed scientist for all I know to save the colony. I wasn’t given a lot of instruction other than to take this ship and keep in touch with Phineas. I don’t even know what the endgame is gonna be.”

Felix was listening closely. He turned from the window to face her, leaning back against the table. It was all starting to make sense now. It was simple. She was stressed and the pressure was beginning to get to her. He let her go on;

“I’m the one who’s got to save Halcyon. To be successful, I need our crew to be honest with me and all on the same page. I need to be able to put my trust in this team,” She said; “That’s why I got so upset with Max today. He lied to me to ensure that I would do something that he wanted. It didn’t affect anything too bad, but that was a serious blow to my trust in him.”

Felix understood where she was coming from. He believed that honesty was extremely important, especially with the way things were now. He saw both sides of the coin. He saw her position as a captain with a life changing goal ahead, but he also understood how much finding Reginald meant to Max.

“Max didn’t mean any harm. He understands that he should’ve handled it differently,” He suggested; “The mission wasn’t affected any. We’ve still got time.”

Felix had a point, but she was still irritated. As the captain, she was the one who had to decide what was worth their time. She got to decide what they had time for. She never minded doing something for someone in your beloved crew, but she still had a big mission hanging over her head.

“I know that, Felix, but what’s going to happen when I set us out on a mission that does affect what I’m trying to do here?” She said with your voice having a slight edge to it; “Then the colony’s fate is destroyed just because I thought it was a good idea to let the vicar have a fucking book translated.”

He would admit, he would never want to be in her shoes. That was one hell of a weight to carry alone. He was just fine being a crew-hand. However, she was perfectly able. She had what it took to save Halcyon. She had a badass squad, a family, by her side to help the cause.

“What’s this ‘I’ nonsense I keep hearing? This isn’t your burden anymore. This became a group matter the second you hired the first person of this crew,” He said with a sense of urgency. He couldn’t let her go on any longer thinking this was all on her; “This is our mission. You just happen to be the captain of it.”

Her heart was warmed by his words. That was unbelievably comforting. She needed their help, each and every one. She couldn’t do this alone. She knew this. Phineas knew that when he brought her from her 70 year hibernation that she’d be able to find companions to assist you along the way if she wanted it.

“You're saying if I go down with this mission, then you’re going down too?” She asked semi-joking.

He smirked, raising and settling his brows quickly;

“Damn right we will. It’s all or nothing, boss. We’re in this together.” He said moving to join her on the small bed.

“Thanks, Felix. I needed that.” She admitted; “And I thought I told you that you don’t have to call me boss?”

Felix smiled proudly. He knew he could lift her spirits. She was sounding like herself again. He leaned back onto her pillow and stretched out. Looked like he’d be staying the night here. Not that she minded.

“I like calling you boss. Even if you weren’t my captain, you’d still be the boss of this relationship.” He laughed heartily.

She playfully smacked his leg, a little offended at his statement.

“You calling me bossy?” She asked with a giggle.

“Yeah, I am actually,” He confessed; “But I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

She blushed. What a guy. She was thankful that she ran into him that fateful day on Groundbreaker. There’s no way this mission would still be afloat without him and the team she’d built. They’d be by her side no matter what.

For that, she was forever thankful.

[samshogwarts]

My review of 2020

Or: I say thank you.

First of all, sorry for the long post 😅. You guys know I don'tike long posts without a "read more under the line". But I nade the post with my mobile phone.... Aaaaaaaanyway. Also sorry for all the tags. I hope I don't annoyed someone with it <~<. So let's continue:

I think this year has been a particularly difficult year for everyone. As 2020 is drawing to a close, I mentally let the year pass again.

The bottom line is that I have to say that 2020 was turbulent for me, but not necessarily bad. Much good, but also bad, has happened. And I want to start with the bad things right away.

At the beginning of the year, my depression and eating disorder relapsed. I've always had trouble talking about it because I know my friends can't handle this issue. I felt pressured because they wanted to do things with me, but I couldn't. So I withdrew completely, hiding my emotions and wearing a mask.

At that time I created this blog. At first I didn't want to create my own content, just follow the content of @ladycibia, @hogwartsmystory and @kyril-hphm. Incidentally, that is also the reason why I call these 3 blogs the Big Three. So it's their fault that I'm here. Lol.

And then the first Hyops message came at the end of March. A very good friend of mine got Corvid-19 and lost the battle against the disease a few days later. I still remember how the news pulled the floor from under my feet. It feels like I completely lost faith in everything and I started to realize how dangerous this year could be. 

But life goes on and so I visited a friend and her family in early July. It was the anniversary of her husband's death, who was also a very good friend of mine. He died of cancer last year and I couldn't go to his funeral. So I wanted to stop by on the day he died. I actually thought I could do it. But when you read a friend's name on a tombstone for the first time.. Guys, that's a punch in the stomach like no other and I can't really describe how it feels. I had made up my mind not to cry in front of his wife or children because it was hard enough for them. Didn't work.

And of course this year meant to go one better.

Another friend of mine died of the virus in mid-August, leaving behind a wife and a child. Again, I was unable to attend the funeral. And to be honest, it still bothers me way more I want to admit. In two years I lost three wonderful people who meant a lot to me and I couldn't say goodbye to any of them. When I see the three of them again after my death, you can be sure I'll kick their butts for it.

But August was the worst month for me in many ways. In addition to the death of my buddy, my father's family also volunteered. And that means only one thing - trouble.  And properly. I haven't had contact with this family for over 12 years for good reason. Now one person from this family has passed away. And first of all, I don't really care if anyone of them would die. I don't even know the person who passed away. But I wasn't told either by my grandmother or my father. So my deadline to cancel the inheritance has expired. Of course it was debts. You have to know that the inheritance rights of my country are very complicated. The reason my father or grandmother didn't tell me about it was because they didn't want to bother with the paperwork. They always had the opportunity to contact me via Facebook or my half-sister. But that would mean work for them. And while I was walking from lawyer to lawyer to court to court, I was allowed to hear sayings from my grandmother that I apparently have achieved nothing in my life. Nice to know that some people never change. I'm still struggling with this matter to this day and will probably not be able to fully clarify this until the beginning of 2021.

At the end of October everything seemed to be taking its revenge and I passed out at a friend's house. Nobody knows exactly what happened until today, but my friend took me to the hospital where I had to stay one night. That was Halloween. And I'm such a big fan of hospitals hahahaha hahahaha. After that I was allowed to wear an ECG for 2 weeks and it turned out that my heart values ​​had deteriorated. Why not. Let's just take everything with us this year!

Rounding out the negatives this year was my (as a teenager) best friend's suicide. I have to say that I haven't had any contact with this person for 9 years. However, it is the one who cut herself in her youth and then called me afterwards because she didn't know what to do. It was also the one I tried to get into therapy for 2 years. But her mother was always against it. And it was exactly this mother who was standing in my mother's shop, telling her about her daughter's suicide and that I was probably in the farewell letter. I don't know exactly what it said, but the mother now blames me for her daughter's suicide. And do you know what's craziest about the whole thing? I agreed with her! I really thought it was my fault because I knew how sick my former friend was. Yet I was the one who ended the friendship (for many reasons that had nothing to do with her depression). And I still wonder what would have happened if I had acted differently.

But enough of the negative things! A lot of nice things happened this year too. Among other things, I have found a new job within my group, earn more money and have pleasant working hours. I've renovated my apartment and I've started saving money on a new one. My two nieces are now going to school and I am a proud aunt. My male best friend and his girlfriend (my best harry potter friend) are pregnant and are expecting their first child soon and my mother's health is better.

But one of the best things that happened to me this year is this blog.

I already mentioned that I actually only created this blog to stalk the Big Three. I didn't want my own content at all. But I discovered more and more blogs and these incredibly great MCs that I thought I wanted to do whole too. And so Samantha O'Connell was born.

I received so much great support and encouragement on this platform. I don't think many people even realize how much that means to me. Especially this year.

I have also found great and lovable people here, some of whom I also call my friends. Even if we come from other countries, speak other languages ​​and may never see each other in real life, you are my friends and I am grateful to know you.

@annabelle-tanaka-official : I'll start with you of course! XD on tumblr you are just my best friend. I don't write as much with anyone as I do with you. You are such an incredibly talented person and so warm hearted! Over the year we have invented so many insiders that soon nobody will know what we mean.  Be it the monster hug, or that my cats are your spies or our many RP scenarios, which I really enjoy and which always make me laugh. I thank you for that!! I love you so much and I am so glad that we are friends! *minster hug*

@lunasilvermorny / @lunasilvermore : you are next to you !!! XD the next person I write to almost every day. What started with a little conversation about among us has turned into a friendship. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to streaming with you next year (and this year)!!! You are such a good listener that strengthens me. Your support is so nice of you too! Just the fact that you have subscribed to my YouTube channel xD (because of the language I even have an idea). I'm looking forward to the next year with you! Thank you so much for dealing with my craziness and still likes me! 

@kyril-hphm : muahahahaha. You can't escape me !!! Yes, what should I say? One of my big three even made friends with me. One of my Senpais noticed me! And then it's a lovely fluffy marshmallow! I still think it's funny  that we have such similar circuits and hearts! Nevertheless you are an incredibly honest, loving and talented person. I've never told you before, but sometimes I stare (for 20 minutes +) at your drawings to improve my style (just not working so far). You are an honest person and I am happy every time we talk, or when you react to my content. I would like to say thank you for that too! You are great and you can trust yourself more.

@carewyncromwell : my Chinese fireball, my Disney princess. Yes, for me you exude the aura of a Disney princess and nothing can change my mind. So! You were one of the first friends I made here on tumblr and one of the first to write with me! I still remember how proud and nervous I was back then! Just when I was in the hospital on Halloween and couldn't sleep that night, you kept texting me and distracting me from my fear. That means a lot to me. You are such a creative and lovable person too. Ah, that's just amazing. Your comments or hashtags always make me grin or laugh. Thank you for all your support and help!

@catohphm : my fluffier Ravenclaw brother!!! Of course you can't be missing either. I also write with you almost every day and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your kind words and your support. I just love the energy between Samantha and Cato. And it's always fun to write RP with you!  Thank you for being such a lovely and kind person!

@mira-shard : MIRAAAAAAA! It's kind of funny how long we've basically walked next to each other without talking to each other. And now I don't want to miss you anymore! You are such a fun and happy person. Writing with you is just fun! I also love your cosplay photos. Someday I'll come to visit you, and then we'll do cosplay shootings together until the camera bleeds! I would also like to thank you for your support and your kindness. 

@sirfluffig : ha. I hope you didn't think you were escaping me! Where should I start with you? Maybe that you were one of the first to give me such lovely feedback on Samantha? Or this super funny stream and that you helped me to stream in English? Or just like that, when we talk about our MCs or pen and paper. It's definitely always fun. I want to thank you for that and I'm looking forward to playing together again soon (get Among us)

@nightrhea-hphm : * run into you in slowmotion * Night! My wonderful supportive Gremlin! I've grown very fond of them over the years. And your support and feedback are just amazing. I also love the friendship between Night and Samantha. I think it's very similar to ours, right? You are also such an incredibly creative and lovable person. You make you feel like it's ok to be who you are. Thank you!

Of course there are many, many more like @rosievixen, @wangxianforever000 , @mollydarling-hphm , @morningstarinwinter , @hogwarts9, @hphm-brooke , @raymondhope-writer , @nikyiscreepy , @immagrosscandy , @mizutoyama , @ariparri-hphm and many many more.

I want to thank you all for your encouragement, support and feedback. You are the reasons why I am adding more and more details to this blog, why I dared to start with the fan comic and many more. 

It's still so amazing for me to meet so many talented, creative, kind and funny people. 

This year showed me again that life isn't just black or white. Life is Grey. Good things and bad things happen. Sometimes one side more than the other side. But as long we are taking the next step, life wl continues. Just keep in mind, as like you support me, I want to support you. So if you ever wanna talk, no matter what, remember you guys can always contact me. 

I'm really looking forward to next year and already have so many plans. I can not wait any longer. Enjoy the last days of the year, stay safe and most important: they the way you are guys! 

Love you all so much. 

[uenodivision]

Aranai's Thoughts on Division Leaders

Ichiro Yamada

"What can I say about Ichiro? Lots! I think the better question would be what can't I say about the guy! He's a hell of a rapper if I'm being honest. I'll even admit, begrudgingly, that he could kick my ass in a rap battle. Much of my own style I adopted from him, believe it or not. I was a big fan of the guy back during the Dirty Dawg days. Each member held their own, but I personally think Ichiro carried the group.

"Besides that, he's an all-right guy, I guess. As I stated, he's a hell of a rapper, and from what I've seen and heard, he's also a good brother to his siblings. He's also not half-bad in the looks department. Tell him I said that, by the way, and you're history."

Samatoki Aohitsugi

"Why the hell are you asking me about this S.O.B.? The less I have to think or speak about him, the better! The guy's a prick, plain and simple! He was my least favorite guy in Dirty Dawg, and he's my least favorite person now! If he suddenly collapsed today, I'd shed no tears for him, whatsoever! If he gave up rapping today, I'd probably jump for joy!

"Why do I hate him so much? During my time as a Bōsōzoku, he and I had a run-in with one another, and... let's just say, the encounter left an impression on me. I don't want to talk about it. But just know that if I ever see my chance at hurting this guy, I'm not passing it up!"

Ramada Amemura

"This guy was probably my second-favorite Dirty Dawg member, after Ichiro of course. He's got looks, but sadly, I'm not into Bishōnen. What really surprised me about this guy is that despite how young he looks, he's actually older than he appears! When I found out his actual age, my mouth literally hit the floor! How the hell can someone as young as him actually be in his mid-20s?! Besides that, he seems okay. From what I've heard, he works as some sort of fashion designer over at Shibuya.

"Like I said, the guy is okay. No real complaints about him, besides the fact that he seems to like women a lot. Which raises an interesting question: with how much this guy flirts, is he still a virgin? I mean, I know he's of consent and all, but I wonder, whenever people look at him, can they look past his youthful appearance? I've no clue..."

Jakurai Jinguji

"This guy is... well, for lack of a better word, weird. ...Well, not so much weird as he is mysterious. I've heard him sing and rap, but I can't really follow much of what he's saying. He seems to be on a whole nother level. Like his lyrics force you to think about the meaning behind his raps. I don't really like to think much when I'm listening to raps or music, so he gets a hard pass from me.

"Despite that, I don't really have anything negative to say about the guy. I was a bit surprised that he and his team managed to take the winner's spot in the first D.R.B. Plus, he managed to completely decimate and embarrass that ass****, Samatoki, in the process, so he gets points from that. But other than that, the guy is okay in my books, I guess."

Sasara Nurude

"...Let me state now for the record: I hate comedians and clowns. And this guy, unfortunately, fits the bill for both. I happen to have seen one of his shows once while I was in Osaka, and unlike the rest of the audience, the only thing I found funny was the fact that I had actually sat there watching it until the very end. I guess I was hoping that it would get better if I was patient. Nope, it just got sadder and more pathetic.

"Aside from that, the only thing I know about this guy is that he used to be in some sort of rap group with that S.O.B., Samatoki. I guess that would explain my disliking for him. And that would also explain why Ichiro and his brothers were able to blow him and his team out of the water in their rap battle. Ha!"

Kuko Harai

"I know about this guy 'cause he used to be part of a rap group with Ichiro. What were they called again... oh yeah! The Naughty Busters, I think. I'll admit, he was a good rapper, but he couldn't hold a candle to Ichiro. It's a shame they broke up, but I wasn't too hung up about it, since, as I stated, I only knew him because of Ichiro.

"From what I hear, he's formed another rap group back in Nagoya, I think. I saw him and his team in the D.R.B., and I'll have to say, I was a bit surprised he lost against the doctor. Truthfully, I was hoping he'd pull out some sort of win so I could see him face Ichiro in the next battle. Oh well."

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 18

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 18 - Memories

Lin Yan was afraid that the professor was going to run away. When the event was over, he didn't even take the time to change his clothes. He called over to little Daoist priest to tell him he could leave first, then rushed to the backstage lounge. The crowd trying to leave completely blocked the exit. Lin Yan wasn't able to get out for a while. Behind him was a swarm of school reporters, sweating profusely as they followed.

"Excuse me! Coming through!" He wasn't sure whose foot he stepped on in his rush, but the girl in front of him turned around and gave him a sharp look.

"Lin Yan!" a clear voice rang out. Lin Yan looked up and saw Weiwei standing at the door with a red staff badge hanging around her neck.

Lin Yan didn't care anymore about feeling embarrassed while he hurried through the crowd without any organized manner. He shouted at Weiwei: "Can you do me a favour? This is urgent!"

"It's my birthday next week, come over for dinner!" Weiwei shouted on her tiptoes.

"Okay, whatever, help stop the crowd behind me!"

Lin Yan ran as fast as he could straight down the corridor, stumbling from time to time over the hem of his clothes. When he burst into the backstage VIP room completely dishevelled, he realized that he had been worried for nothing. The professor hadn't planned on sneaking away at all. He was seated on the sofa and had waited for him, sipping his tea.

"You came? Sit down."

Lin Yan clutched his chest and nodded, breathing too heavily to speak.

The lounge was decorated in a very stylish way, with arc-shaped floor-to-ceiling French windows, beige wallpaper, and light brown soft leather sofas that looked like they were worth a lot of money. The school had always been willing to spend money on entertaining guests. The professor poured a glass of water for Lin Yan and pointed to the single-seater sofa opposite of him.

"You're Lin Yan, who came to us for an internship before, right? You performed well today. You've got guts and have a good mind." The professor pondered for a moment: "I thought you'd come find me sooner or later. I didn't expect that you would get back here so soon. "

"Do you know me?" A series of questions popped up in his mind. Lin Yan suppressed the urge to outright address his issue. He apologized for the outburst just then, and then said seriously: "I did here for that internship. This is very important to me, please tell me everything you know."

The professor nodded slightly: "I can probably guess what happened. So, I'll speak slowly. Listen carefully. If there's any useful information, I'll tell you." He sighed and looked out the window. He spoke softly: "The fact that you are still standing here in good shape is already much better than the person who came before you."

Lin Yan looked back at Xiao Yu, who was holding his hand tightly, standing ignorantly.

The floor-to-ceiling windows were facing the path outside the auditorium. The students must use this path to get to the dormitories. In the night, boys and girls walked down it together in large groups. I don’t know who yelled: "The river flows eastward, the stars in the sky look to the Big Dipper!*" The professor smiled, turned his face to Lin Yan, and recalled: "I was about the same age as you when I first entered the tomb. It was a good time to be young."

*(Song lyrics from "Hao Han Ge" by Liu Huan)

"Young people don't know what's important. . ."

The professor spoke very coherently, as if he had been wanted to say all this for many years. Lin Yan even felt that he was using this as an opportunity to reminisce about his nostalgic youth. But when the professor painted the scene back to Lin Yan, it sent a chill down Lin Yan's spine.

Twenty-five years ago, a group of coal miners in Jinxiang County accidentally collapsed a mineshaft while they were hacking away. They removed some jade plates and funerary wooden figurines from inside the hole, which turned out to be the entrance tunnel of an underground tomb. Once the county head official learned about this tomb, he blocked off the mausoleum and reported the news to the central government. At that time, China was still a novice in both archaeological technology and cultural relic preservation, and it was still difficult to excavate many imperial tombs. Therefore, this cultural Ming Dynasty tomb was handed over to the university, and a team of several master's students hired some local volunteers and rushed to Jinxiang.

This group of people included the professor and Lin Yan’s current supervisor. When preparing the materials for the tomb, the professor and Lin Yan both found some strange information. He strangely discovered that whether it were the county chronicles, the local chronicles, or genealogical records, there was no record of the tomb's owner. One of the workers on the team claimed to be a master of fengshui. After seeing the mausoleum, he said that it would be impossible to excavate. The earth's meridians formed a breeding ground for negative energy. The evil spirits attracted to the space were too dense to bury people. The owner of the tomb wouldn't be able to find peace after death. Not to mention the misfortune it would bring future generations. However, most of the students were young and energetic. They were eager to try after seeing the exquisitely carved jade artifacts. Without much consideration, they went directly to the tomb with tools and equipment.

"Strange events started after that." The professor adjusted his glasses and grimaced: "We should have listened to the warnings, but we didn't believe in evil at the time."

First, the four chickens brought to ward off evil spirits died overnight. When the underground tomb gate was opened, the scaffold collapsed, and an 18-year-old fell and broke his right hand. Everyone thought it was an accident, but from the time they entered the tomb, all those involved in the excavation had nightmares whenever they closed their eyes. Every night they dreamed that they were dying to the point that no one dared try to sleep anymore. Fatigue and constant fear made everyone’s fighting spirit die off after only a week.

"What happened after that?" Lin Yan looked back at Xiao Yu in surprise. He thought he had been tormented thoroughly by him, but he hadn't even seen half of this ghost's ferociousness yet.

"After entering the main chamber, we found many valuable cultural relics beside the coffin, but they were poorly preserved. We could only brush off the embroideries. Watching the treasures that we brought out so easily blacken and carbonize the moment the sunlight hit them was the fatal blow to our spirits. I cried miserably, but everyone was equally depressed and even fearful. No one had the energy to comfort me."

The professor's hand shifted on the windowpane, leaving behind a damp handprint. "There seemed to be some kind of energy in that tomb that could make people fall into despair. We worked hard and sang to make ourselves feel more brave, but it was still useless. A rural volunteer girl went crazy on the ninth morning and smashed her husband's head in with a machete while everyone could only stand in shock."

"Blood sprayed all over the bricks on the top of the tomb, and it was dripping everywhere. The woman put her husband's head in front of the blank memorial plaque, kowtowed three times, and sat on the ground convulsing, laughing eerily, while laughing and shouting a name." The professor looked at Lin Yan and asked, "Do you know what name it was?"

Lin Yan took a dazed step back. He wanted to break away from the hand holding his, but Xiao Yu held it tighter, not giving him a chance to escape.

"It was Xiao Yu. Who exactly is Xiao Yu? I searched through both the official and unofficial records, but I couldn't find any record that mentioned this name." The professor's expression became painful: "We gave the woman a consolation fee to settle the matter. After she took the money, she laughed for a while before she raised her machete and slashed it down across her neck. The blood was sprayed onto the memorial plaque. When she fell, only a thin piece of skin kept her head attached to her body. At that time, people didn't know much about archaeology. At first glance, some of the students were okay, but the hired volunteers were all scared away, saying that we dug up the grave of the dead, and this was retribution for it."

"The last person who left was the fengshui guy. He told me that the tomb had no fengshui. The owner of the tomb had died violently. Nothing could approach the tomb through the evil energy breeding ground. This resentment built up over a long time. The woman's body had been filled with too much Yin energy and she was the first to fall prey to the ghost."

"The man left. The students didn't want to go, but they were still having nightmares every time they. They tried to stick it out for a week before packing their bags and returning to school. No one else died. The first time the lead took over, he wouldn't even touch the coffin. It was a disappointment for everyone."

Lin Yan imagined the beheading. His face grew pale, and his stomach felt sick.

"Are you alright? You don't look well." The professor seemed to catch on to the younger's expression, and pointed to Lin Yan's cup: "Drink some water. Take a break then you can listen some more."

Lin Yan shook his head and asked, "Was it really like the fengshui master said?"

The professor hesitated for a while, and his fingers scribbled across a section of thin vapor he exhaled onto the glass. Two words appeared on the glass: "Xiao Yu." As if he didn't want to see it, the professor wiped it away and shook his head: "I have seen a lot of weird things throughout my career. The demon and ghost theory is not unfounded, but I think that the tomb might be some kind of spiritual formation. In ancient times, emperors and generals did everything they could to prevent their bodies from being destroyed. Many strange arts and techniques also emerged. It is possible that the woman was already delirious and so was the first to lose her mind in the consuming and the gloomy atmosphere in the tomb."

Lin Yan imagined the shadowy chamber with two headless bodies lying on the ground. He could barely squeeze out a wry smile: "What does this whole thing have to do with me?"

"I'm getting to that part." The professor sadly lowered his head: "Young people have never been willing to admit defeat. Since then, I've been very interested in the history of the Ming Dynasty Chenghua period. At first, I wanted to find out the identity of the tomb owner but I really fell in love with the history, and, 20 years later, I became an expert in the field. But long-term research in any field will encounter roadblocks. I was troubled by problem for nearly two months, and finally decided to go to the Ming Tomb again."

Lin Yan asked puzzledly: "Are you not afraid something will happen again?"

The professor shrugged: "No way, the large amount of untouched cultural relics inside was too tempting. The team left before anyone had even touched the coffin the last time I was there. I've never gotten over it."

"Be considerate of the obsessions of an old man who has been involved in academia for most of his life." The professor said: "When the newspaper published the news about the excavation of the Ming Tomb again, a message came from my secretary saying that someone was willing to help me. He understood fengshui. If something went wrong, I could turn to him."

"I'm not the same young man who spent a whole year studying about the tomb. I ran all over the country all day and night. I was too busy to take care of it, so I asked the secretary to keep in touch with him."

"Later on, something did happened. It was exactly the same as before. After entering the tomb door, everyone was inexplicably depressed and paranoid, and soon began to have nightmares. I was so afraid that the tragedy would happen again, so I had to ask the person who knew fengshui for help. He told me that I need to find a person who shares the same horoscope as the evil creature in order to make it stop. Then he gave me a birth date and said that he could find someone with the same birth date horoscope."

Lin Yan had already guessed the answer. He pointed at himself and hesitated to confirm: "Me?"

The professor nodded: "That birth year made me think of a student. I asked your supervisor. He said that he had a friend’s son who was looking for an internship, and his own student, Lin Yan. It was just an extreme coincident that your birthday fell onto the right date."

"You know what happened after that." The professor looked at the path outside the window. The students were almost all gone now. The moonlight didn't reach the path, instead only reflecting the black shadows of the trees that were swaying back and forth in the night breeze. "If you want to ask me who the owner of the tomb is, I can only tell you that I don't know. It's shameful; after more than 20 years, I have revisited this topic year after year, but I still haven't made any progress."

"If you have anything else to ask, please go ahead. As soon as you say the name 'Xiao Yu', I knew it was you. You've got a lot of guts to throw my things like that." The professor laughed, "I was just like that when I was young. I had trouble with authority back then. It took a lot to keep up with me."

Lin Yan hurriedly lowered his head and apologized. He kept thinking that it was this File Folder dragged him into this mess, but it didn't seem like he did it intentionally. . . How much did he know about what happened after? Thinking of this, Lin Yan raised his head and asked, "Don't you want to hear how I know Xiao Yu's name?"

The professor waved his hand and relaxed his expression: "People my age don't want to listen to these ghost and monster stories. It's bad luck. I know you're fine when I see you standing here. I didn't discuss it with you. I blame myself for not discussing this with you sooner. I'll try my best to explain anything you need, but the rest. . ." The professor said, spreading his hands, expressing that there was nothing he could do.

During their talk, the professor's personal secretary came in and urged him to leave, saying that the car was ready and the school officials were all waiting downstairs. The professor nodded to the secretary, turned around and asked Lin Yan, "Is there anything else you want to know?"

Lin Yan felt stuck. The most renowned Ming historians in China had no answers. Did he really have no choice but to wait out the three months, waiting for this ghost to remember his life experience and tell him his wish. But what he couldn't remember? Would Lin Yan be forced to accompany him for eternity as a ghost?

As he pondered, a thought popped up, like a small copper hammer hitting the glass with a crisp sound. Lin Yan stopped the professor who was packing up and asked: "You. . . you mentioned that the fengshui guy had mentioned a horoscope date. I happened to be looking for an internship at that time, so it all worked out, right?" Lin Yan's voice was trembling with excitement: "This is too much of a coincidence. It's almost like he was waiting for me. . . Where is he now? How did he know something would happen in the Ming Tomb?"

The professor suddenly stopped, frowning and thought it over: "You're right to be suspicious. At that time, I was busy planning the excavation and didn't care much about it. . ." The secretary who was waiting at the door shouted: " Xiao Liu, do you remember that fortune teller? Give me his contact information."

The young girl flipped through the folder in her arms, and replied: "That person never contacted me directly. He had been passing messages through a young guy who was new to the team. I'll look into it for you. I'll get back to you about in in the next few days."

The professor's face sank, and just like Lin Yan, he had no answer. He whispered to him: "It'll should be easy to track him down." He patted Lin Yan on the shoulder: "I'll help you out with this, don't worry. "He took out a pen and left Lin Yan's his phone number, and the corner of his mouth ticked up: "I still owe you your prize. I'll give it to you the next time we meet."

When he left, the crowd was gone. The corridor was empty. The old custodian didn’t even turn on the ceiling light to save electricity. Only the wall lamp glowed a dull yellow. Lin Yan’s face drained of all colour. He suddenly felt like he was in a horror movie. He was the lead actor stumbling along the wall in a terrifying corridor.

The professor's story made him feel incredibly afraid. Behind him was a ghost, a murderer who put people to death in a cruel and bloody way. He didn't even dare to look behind him. He was afraid that when he turned around, a ghost covered in bloodstains would be there, grinning sinisterly at him through a veil of long hair, saying: It's your turn.

Lin Yan's breathing became heavier and heavier. When he couldn't resist the urge to run away, he was suddenly pushed harshly against the wall. His body was wrenched around. Lin Yan raised his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

[carmichealroyals]

“BE PROUD, ALWAYS”: PRINCE OLIVER OF SOBURG OFFICIALLY COMES OUT IN PRESS CONFERENCE

Today, Highwood Manor, home of the Duke and Duchess of Soburg, held a press conference -- their first instance of outreach to the media since photos of their youngest son, Prince Oliver, appeared online and effectively outed him to the public. While they hadn’t confirmed or denied anything up until this point, today Prince Oliver himself was front and center. A transcript of the Prince’s speech is below:

Keep reading below the cut! (And consider this your “Happy Valentines Day” from me; you are loved by so many!!)

Oliver: Good afternoon, everyone, and thank you for joining us here today. The past few months have been full of tumult, both in our public and private lives, so we thank you for our co-operation as we came to a decision about how best to go about this. It hasn’t been easy for any of us -- not myself, not my parents, nor for the Lopez family, who have graciously agreed to be present for this moment. 

Many of you are aware of the history of this family. I consider myself a bit of a scholar of history as well, and recently, I found something that shook me to my core. Princess Josephine, the eldest daughter of King Albert and Queen Catherine of the Winden Territories during the first Great War and mygreat-great aunt was, as many of you know, what we could call a “spinster”. She never married and dedicated herself to nursing during the first Great War that changed the lives of so many. Many believed that she never married out of personal choice, as an act of rebellion against the system she was born into as the eldest daughter of a King who would never have been able to inherit. 

This is not the case. I recently came across letters that Princess Josephine wrote in the attic of Highwood Manor, as this was where she lived for twenty-five years before her death. These letters were written by her and were addressed to a “E.R.”. After some more searching, we found a letter written in return that Princess Josephine kept. Princess Josephine wrote love letter after love letter to Lady Eleanor Rosewood, who returned her affection despite being married to a man. They were apart for decades, and only after Lady Eleanor’s husband died did she come here to spend time with her “dear friend”, as it would have been called then, to take comfort in her company.

Princess Josephine was forced to hide who she was because of the world around her, as was Lady Eleanor. They loved each other fiercely, but were never able to make their affection known to anyone for risk of being stripped of their titles and cast aside. Princess Josephine is honored today for her services to nursing, and is remembered for her fierce loyalty and kind heart. But today, I get to enjoy a pleasure she never got to have: of truly being herself, and making that self known to the public. She was gay. And so am I. 

I have struggled with this part of me for a long time. Not just because of the position I find myself in, but because of the outward expectations placed upon me and my family. We marry well, we live in opulent houses through Crown funds, we attend overseas engagement and are the model of what people think “high society” is. Princes are to marry Princesses, or Duchesses, or any other well-born woman. But I never wanted that for myself.

Because of these expectations, I was forced to hide who I truly was from everyone I loved, even though I know now that they all would have loved me no matter what. Hindsight is a beautiful thing like that. I had to play along, play the part that everyone expected me to play, and pretend to be someone I was not.

And then I met Gabriel. I saw someone who was open about who he was and adored for it. It was not his whole personality, but rather an aspect of him, plain and simple, and nobody paid it any mind. They accepted it, point blank. He was the first person I came out to, officially, and we have been dating in secret for six months. 

Neither of us wanted these pictures to be released -- we didn’t even know about them until they were released. This invasion of privacy, which will be followed up on through the authorities, provided us with an opportunity to stand in the sun together instead of hiding in the shadows. I will admit, I was terrified about making this speech today. You can’t quite see it, but my hands are still shaking. I know that there are people out there who do not accept this as a facet of life for millions of people. They will say it is just a phase, that I’m only young and that I’m “experimenting”, that I will eventually settle down with a nice girl and this will all blow over. To those people, I say: this is not a phase. I know that I am young, but I have known who I am since I was five years old. I am in love with Gabriel Lopez, and he loves me, and nothing you do or say will change that. 

While there will be hundreds of thousands of voices telling us we are wrong, there are so many more voices that outweigh the negativity, showing us support and rallying behind us when the pictures broke. To those people, we say thank you. Without your support, and without the support of my parents, I would not have had the courage to stand here today and say this to all of you. 

I know that there will be questions about what this will mean for me going forward. I will be honest, I do not have the answers. Trust that when the time is right, those answers will make their way to you. In honor of this occasion, I am delighted to announce that I will take on my first official patronage: Heart Home, a group of shelters for various LGBTQ+ youth who need a place to go across this country. Our family will also be donating one million Simoleons to Heart Home and The Tracy Project, a 24/7 crisis hotline for LGBTQ+ youth. Both of these organizations do incredible work, and this is just the start of my work with them both. 

Finally, I’d like to send a message to others out there who are like myself -- who have always known themselves to be different in some way that the world will see as “wrong”: you are not wrong. Your sexuality and/or gender identity is yours, and therefore is incredibly valid. You do not have to come out today, or tomorrow, or any time before you are ready to. But there is a place for you in this world. There are people who will accept you for who you are and will always be ready to stand by your side, no matter what. The important thing to remember is to be proud, always. You are you, and there is nothing more important or as wonderful as that. You are worth fighting for, and nobody else in this world gets to define how you live your life as your truest self except for you. Love is love. It’s as simple as that.

Thank you.

[aerial-aspie]

An Autistic Point of View 21 (Summer Camp Edition)

Hi there it's Hazel! I'm finally back after a bit of a too long break because I've been struggling to find things to write about (which is also called being too lazy too) but I actually have something to talk about today! Yay!

So if you haven't seen on some of my earlier posts, I am a youth summer camp leader and 3 weeks ago I led for my first time and this is how it went.

Coming from a northern city in England, it was already difficult because everyone else was from London and were all talking gossip about people at school and would leave me out of everything, telling me I didn't want to know. I felt left out and isolated because I couldn't join in conversations as much because I didn't know who anyone was. This went on for the full four days of pre-camp preparations and it was quite difficult, another thing that happened was someone used the phrase 'you're not Jewish if you don't know...' and this was about a musical called 13 which was about a Bar Mitzvah. I'd never heard of it because I mostly know things that people tell me about or that I've seen come on tour and I wasn't sure how to respond because I didn't know it.

We also had multiple clashes in interests because the interests of all the girls (who I clashed with more) were more mainstream such as watching love island (I hate that show with a passion, it's disgusting), being die hard mamma mia fans (the songs are annoying and the film is awful in my opinion) and this is about everyone, they love pop music (again, I hate pop music and would much rather listen to vocaloid, jpop, electro swing, heavy metal and whatever is on my weird playlist). So because of this we clashed quite badly, especially over our opinions on love island because I'm so opinionated on how much I hate that show and they love it we got into a somewhat argument, so I left the building and went back to my dorm because it was the evening when we could do basically what we wanted.

Now I've gotten that off my chest, I need to say that I loved the group of people I was leading with. Yes we didn't get along interests wise and north, south divide didn't help but they were lovely to lead with and some of them I've come out with friends for life (well if we can keep in contact).

When the kids came it was so daunting, but luckily my friend Ash (who is leading with me) was on the coach with them because they had just had covid and had to isolate before coming, but they were fine.

I can't really remember fully what went on every day but I can tell you that the first meal time was horrible. I had this one kid on my table who begged me for the full half an hour about what we were doing next and I couldn't tell him at all and was panicking about what to say. I grabbed one of the senior leaders and was like "help, I don't know what to do" and he gave me some tips but even then, the kid wouldn't get off my back. He started being like "I hate it when people keep secrets from me, my mum once kept a secret from me and it was so horrible so tell me what we're doing please" (this is not exactly word for word what he said but he did bring his mum into it).

However, dinner was luckily over and I thought I was done with him but whilst we were blocking the entrance to one of the buildings whilst the activity was being set up, he went at me again and I was really struggling and panicking. Ash, who is one of my closest friends and knows me better than any of the other leaders, quickly spotted I was in a bad position and turned to me and said "Hazel, I think you're needed inside" and instantly got me out of that stressful situation. I thanked them for it later because it really saved me from a panic attack.

I only had one major panic attack through the entirety of camp, which is the best I've ever come out of one before. The one I had was because we were running early and had to think of something to do. I was suddenly told in front of all the kids with no prior warning that I was leading an invisible circus session and I found and excuse to leave the room and then I panicked. From there on out, the people running the camp knew they had to pre warn me about anything that was causing major changes and I would have to do things on the spot (even though I already told them that when we talked about my needs on a call prior to camp).

Last extremely negative moment when leading, then I'll get onto the positive sides. The kids were so hard work and one day they had 4 discipline talks and it did nothing. We were getting so annoyed and upset that Tammy had to do a full powerful speech about how upset we all were and I could see she was struggling too. Because of this, she wasn't in the next session she was leading with me (and I do not and will not blame her for it because she was so upset and needed that break). Luckily, Ethan was there to help me out and helped run the session and keep the moral high up for the kids as I was really struggling. At dinner I basically broke and after went to sit in the welfare room, there was another kid in there from another bubble and so I moved a chair just to put more distance between us and it was stuck to a phone lead and the phone clattered to the floor. This kid was very noise sensitive and was so frightened, I apologised so much to them before they got taken out and that was enough to set the tears off. There were leaders from the other camp there who knew me and comforted me (socially distant) because they understood I was having a terrible day.

I was then kicked out the welfare room because kids from the other camp were eating in there and this was for safeguarding reasons and so I got sent to one place to wait for the welfare officer but she was already there with someone else. I was basically a stranded autistic person, mid meltdown, not knowing where to go.

I did get rescued by another set of leaders who make our resources and they sat and talked to me whilst I cried it out. I really wanted to go home then, I hated it so much that day and soon the welfare officer came and I talked it out to her before ringing my parents and telling them about it.

I didn't go home in the end and made it all the way through.

Now for the good moments.

Meetings in the evenings were the funniest moments ever, where we talked about about our day and told funny stories and they never failed to make me laugh and always made my day, plus they were always followed by snacks!

We led some amazing activities where the kids got so into them and joined in with everything so that we all had a blast in the end. Site activities were so fun and I got to do high ropes, crate stacking and climbing and I loved it. Me and Ash went as a pair in crate stacking and I fell off at 6 crates, while they got to 13 and it was supposed to be a pairs challenge. But let me say, I screamed the whole way up the crate stacking.

The last night of camp talent show was hilarious. I got to do my poi in it because I was not comfortable doing what everyone else was doing, which was being randomly assigned acts on the go and you had to go up and improvise. But all the improvisation acts by the leaders were so funny, there was; the freedom sandwich song with a singer and someone with a broken finger on recorder, bohemian rhapsody without the vowels, slam poetry about the clavicle and more and it was so funny and such a great night.

The last night of camp in general was great because I pigged out on ice cream and popcorn and got my face painted as a cat. It was great except me 2 hour shift of watching the quiet sleeping area, which was dead boring but then I got to sleep early.

Finally, I did a talk on autism, at first it was just a half an hour chat session where Ash came to sit and listen and also crowd control in case anyone was silly in it. I only had 3 people turn up and another leader ran a football chat session to try and bring more people to mine (how sweet of them) so I ended up with 5 of them, all of them boys.

I thought they would mess around but they were so mature it was amazing! They asked loads of interesting questions about what it was like to be autistic and I answered them all and I loved this talk so much because I was so happy when it ended because it went so well and all the boys said I was now their favourite leader and it made me so happy.

I then ran this talk again in a session which was an hour where you could move between chats freely, whenever you wanted to. Ash was inspired by my autism talk and wanted to do one on being non-binary however, they didn't want to stop people from coming to mine. I turned round and said it doesn't matter about who comes and who doesn't, you should lead it, don't let me hold you back. And they did it! I was so proud of Ash for leading that talk.

I ended up getting all the boys in my talk, whilst Ash got all the girls (which they all apologised to me about not coming but I said it was fine and that they could come and ask questions at any time). All the boys were mature again and I got to happily chat about being autistic and I loved listening to all the questions they asked and anecdotes about people they knew and it went so well again.

Finally, my last highlight was Ash's 'why don't we talk about periods' session which most of the leaders all assisted on because it was so interesting. All the girls were sharing stories, I shared a story and even lots of boys turned up and one was brave enough to ask where the blood goes which I was so proud of him for asking. Whilst the female participants found that question funny, we were making this boy feel good for asking because we thought it was a mature question to come from a 12 year old boy and happily answered it.

To help desensitise people to some of the words we were using, we had everyone yelling period, menstruation, period blood, etc and it was good fun and I loved it.

And that's all about being autistic as a summer camp leader, will I lead again? Probably not. I considered trying again next year but it clashes with the commonwealth games and whilst there were positives from leading, there were lots of negatives too that were off putting and I'd rather go to the commonwealth games.

I hope you enjoyed it and see you next time!

[rockhopsblog]

Kendrick Lamar’s DAMN-- A New Hip Hop Legend

Whether tall tale, truth, or somewhere in between, 13 time Grammy Award winning rapper/songwriter Kendrick Lamar Duckworth’s rise to immortality is nothing short of a cosmic wonder. To go back to the beginning, let’s first take a look at his most recent solo project, 2017’s Album of the Year nominee and Best Rap Album winner “Damn”. The very last track of the album, “Duckworth”, tells of a saga that took place during the rapper’s infancy. The mythic-like storytelling follows the journey of his father, mother, and what would one day become the owner of the record label that propelled Kendrick into stardom. Kendrick’s father, “Ducky” supposedly worked at a chicken fast food restaurant, which “Top Dawg” Anthony Tiffith, proprietor of Top Dawg Entertainment, frequented. Tiffith was a notorious gangster on the block who aspired to be the first one from his neighborhood to reach the life of luxury. Tiffith went on to plan and subsequently rob the chicken place Ducky worked at, but spared his life because he had always given him an extra biscuit with his meals. Because of this decision, Kendrick grew up with his father around, helping to keep him out of the L.A. gang wars and keeping Tiffith out of prison so he could go on to found a record label. Things obviously could have gone very differently, but they didn’t. As Kendrick himself puts it: “Whoever thought the greatest rapper would be from coincidence? Because if Anthony killed Ducky, Top Dawg could be serving life, While I grew up without a father and die in a gunfight”.

Growing up in Compton, CA and making it out to be a success is no small feat. Throughout the years, one of Kendrick’s closest collaborators has been a rapper/blood gang member, Jay Rock, who too came from the neighborhood that Kendrick grew up in. Also a close friend of theirs- Schoolboy Q, a crip. Kendrick Lamar has been on the forefront of using his voice to unify people involved in gang violence and deterring those who may later fall into it. In 2015, Kendrick designed and released his signature shoe with Nike, aimed at the unification of people divided by the lifestyle that many of his friends and family became victims of during the tribulations of his youth. In 2007, a friend of Lamar’s called “DT” was gunned down by police for reportedly posing a threat, an event which seemed to Kendrick was all too common in his life. The silver lining, however, seems to be that there’s no shortage of the tales in Kendrick Lamar’s rap repertoire to depict the dangers and deeper meanings about the reality of gang activity, giving those steeped in that side of life hope for betterment and success. 

In the early stages of Kendrick’s career, he was selected to be in one of the first XXL freshmen, an annual group of rappers recognized by the hip hop publication as up and coming artists. XXL’s freshman freestyles were new at the time, and Kendrick Lamar’s verse in the cypher was prominently featured online and the cypher itself is often looked back on as a classic among those available on YouTube. Those who initially viewed the freestyle session may have come looking for other, better known rappers, only to find themselves stumbling upon the discovery of a young Kendrick Lamar. Around this same time, he released his first official single, “HiiiPoWeR”, which was produced by the now prolific J. Cole. These two, in their own rights, have become widely regarded as today’s best hip hop lyricists for their hard hitting and meaningful bars. Rubbing elbows too with Kendrick was the now superstar pop sensation and rapper, Drake. Drake, a Toronto rapper, has helped launch several careers through featuring on their music because of his viral popularity. When Drake and Kendrick collaborated on Kendrick Lamar’s “Good Kid M.A.A.D. City”, Drake’s career was still in its early stages, but their song together certainly helped garner a mainstream appeal for the release at the time. All in all, it is clear to anyone doing some digging that not only did Kendrick work hard at refining his craft to become prolific, but that he was also met with great fortune in making the correct moves early on in his career to find the notoriety that he now enjoys. 

Fueled by artists such as Tupac Shakur, Ice Cube, Kurupt and Eminem, Lamar has carried the torch forward from the 90s into the modern age of rap. During the famed “California Love” music video shoot featuring Dr. Dre and Tupac, Kendrick has claimed a small piece of hip hop legend by saying he was present in Compton, on the scene for the shoot. As a child, seeing such an idol and icon propelled his drive to follow in the footsteps of the greats of yesterday. In 2015, Kendrick sat down for an interview with the group N.W.A. who’ve had such classics as “Straight Outta Compton” and “Express Yourself”. In the conversation, Lamar said: “anything that I do, it always comes from what y’all done, I wanna get y’all take on my generation today and what we have as far as music”. In response, DJ Ren retorted “I like a few, I like you”. The metaphorical hand-off is evident, from O.G. approval to the strong impact in waves that Lamar has been able to produce from just four major label solo albums. From Anderson .Paak to Roddy Ricch, Kendrick has set out and proved more than he’d ever dreamed of.

Currently, Lamar has two triple platinum records as well as one platinum record which was maybe the most adventurous and critically acclaimed album, not only of his career, but of that decade. Rolling Stone magazine journalist Greg Tate called “To Pimp a Butterfly” a “masterpiece of fiery outrage, deep jazz and ruthless self-critique”.With songs like “The Blacker the Berry” and “Hood Politics”, the fabric of TPAB was woven to reflect the attitudes of a movement of racial justice and equality in a time of great struggle and oppression. Aside from exposing the brutalities of life as a black man in the United States, Lamar also presented the album as a platform to uplift and celebrate the accomplishments and great artistic devotions of black people from around the world. Many consider this album to be Kendrick Lamar’s magnum opus. He has shown that his work has staying power, and that his albums stand out among the formulaic pop-trap that reigns supreme on the radio. Perhaps TPAB has gone the farthest out of any other thing to help cement him as the king of hip hop and the greatest rapper of the generation. 

With a back catalogue so insanely successful you’d expect Mr. Kendrick Lamar to be universally beloved, right? Well, not so fast. No inspection of Lamar’s career would be complete without the mention of his ground-breaking verse on the song “Control” by Big Sean. Kendrick decided to seize the moment coming off of his first platinum album by going after 11 of the biggest names in rap at the time, including: J. Cole, Meek Mill, Drake, Big KRIT, Wale, Pusha T, ASAP Rocky, Tyler The Creator, and Mac Miller. Many interpreted his lyrics in which he called out these artists to be a diss, but we now know that it was, in fact, Lamar’s intent to light a flame under these artists to create higher art. The people named on the verse were people Kendrick truly believed had the potential to create truly classic works, and his bar “I got love for you all but I'm tryin' to murder you” was aimed at them because of the intention to hype them up to work harder and realize that they weren’t inherently owed the popularity bestowed to them. The so-called “Control verse” made such a splash that even rappers who weren’t even named in the song made counter-disses to the single verse in the form of an entire song. Most notable out of these songs were Joe Budden’s “Lost Control”, Joey B4Da$$’s “Killuminati Pt. 2”, and Lupe Fiasco’s “SLR 2”. Despite the negativity spawned from this verse aimed to do good in the hip hop community, Kendrick Lamar’s twitter saw a 510% increase in followers just days after the dropping of the single. If there even was any “beef” to be had regarding this song, it is clear who the real winner was.

From the president of the United States claiming his favorite song was a Kendrick Lamar song at one point, to winning a Pulitzer Prize for 2017’s “DAMN”, the mile-high accolades of Kendrick seem almost too good to be true. However, of all accomplishments, perhaps his greatest is his influence on music. Not only has he single handedly put on several label-mates to the mainstream, but he has risen the bar of what it means to write a good rap song in this day and age. Not content with people who churn out 30 song albums as a money grab, Kendrick has shown that effort is important, that careful construction of art is important. Lamar has also been credited as reviving the importance of the hip-hop music video. It is clear during a listening session on Spotify or YouTube that so many troves of artists, young and old, are attempting to emanate the same X factor that Kendrick Lamar Duckworth has been so highly praised for, and rightfully so.

[kicksaddictny]

How Nike’s Turning Play Into a Lifestyle for Kids

According to NIKE

Jumping rope with a garden hose. Holding a squat while you create a secret handshake with your bestie. Hanging from monkey bars as you see LeBron James get quizzed on his second best sport.

You must be watching Playlist.

The episodic Nike YouTube series, now entering its ninth season, launched two years ago with one clear goal: “We wanted to show kids that sport, at its core, is all about play,” says Jessa Moon, Global Brand Director for Nike Kids. “It doesn't have to be soccer or football or traditional sports — it can be a mash-up or something totally wild and different. We wanted to inspire kids to think about moving their bodies in all kinds of ways and having it be about joy as opposed to winning or competition.”

Hosted by kid athletes like 13-year-old skateboarder Sky Brown and her 9-year-old brother, Ocean, a typical Playlist episode takes kids through fun and funny movement challenges, ratchets up the silliness with sound effects and slapstick gags, and includes appearances from star athletes like Russell Wilson, Mo Farah, Bebe Vio and the aforementioned King James — all of whom are game to be goofy and show off their inner kid on-screen.

Season after season, the series has grown its presence and audience, fine-tuning on its primary channel, YouTube, and streaming across Instagram, TikTok and Snapchat. Playlist has also found its place in the Nike digital ecosystem, alongside its adult counterparts like the Nike Run Club and Nike Training Club apps, proving that Nike offers not just product, but also day-to-day service and benefits to all its consumers.

The constant throughout, says Moon, is that all Playlist episodes are rooted in fun, because when kids are having fun, they’ll be naturally motivated to move.

For parents, inspiring kids to want to move is more important — and harder — than ever. Today, only one in five kids get the physical activity they need to be healthy and successful. Parents also have even more on their plates, often acting as a child’s cook, chauffeur, stylist, teacher and coach within the course of day. Playlist is one way Nike sought to help solve this universal problem by providing resources that get kids and their families to enjoy movement together, improving the relationship and bond between grown-up and kid, and setting kids up for a lifetime of healthy habits and movement that they could one day pass on to the next generation.

Doing that meant understanding that the words “play sport” have tension built into them, says Rami Jabaji, VP of Kids Global Brand Management. To today’s kids, explains Jabaji, sport can feel too structured, too competitive — high stakes, yelling coaches, parents pushing them into it. “They feel disconnected from its benefits, from its joy,” says Jabaji. There’s another kind of tension too: Gen Alpha is the most dedicated to activism, yet the least physically active. That’s partly because they don’t fully resonate with today's definition of traditional sport, says Jabaji. “While young kids naturally enjoy movement and play, it’s the moment when sport takes a turn — when it becomes too structured and rule-bound, not based in freedom and discovery — that kids start to opt out, and they trade physical activity for sedentary screen time,” he says. “The screen provides them with a tool that fulfills their needs in a deeper way than sport does.”

How do you solve for that?

“Our answer was, ‘We have to make sport fun again,’” says Jabaji. “We have to anchor it in play and get back to why kids fell in love with sport in the first place.”

More Ways Nike Serves Kids

Cool Gear, Just for Them Listening to what kids need to move and play and solving kid-specific challenges are hallmarks of Nike Kids product design. That’s reflected in extended sizing, gender-inclusive apparel lines, and gender-inclusive shoes like the new Nike Air Zoom Crossover. The kid-informed basketball shoe features a last with room in the toe box for growing feet, a snug fit and support around the ankle, and a playful “Game Mode” written on the tongue.

Coaches Who Make a Difference Sport is uniquely positioned to help kids handle stress and thrive when the environment is fun, inclusive, and served up by caring and trained coaches. That’s why Nike partnered with ICOACHKIDS to create an accessible, approachable series of coaching essentials that preps anyone to be a volunteer youth coach. The ICOACHKIDS coaching essentials are free and available on the Nike Training Club App and Nike Run Club App in Europe, the Middle East and Africa; if you already have one of the apps on your phone, click here to check out the essentials now.

Nike is also the founding partner of The Center for Healing and Justice in Sport (CHJS), a nonprofit organization fueling a movement to bring research-backed, healing-centered sport training to youth coaches across North America. “A lot of young people who show up to sport experiences may be treading water in other parts of their lives,” says CHJS founder Megan Bartlett. “We prepare a coach to create an environment in which kids can feel like they belong, feel seen and feel safe.” Nike is training its store employees who serve as Nike Community Ambassadors to coach kids in their communities and offering the training to its North America Made to Play partners, Nike employees and consumers. Learn how to get involved here.

That began with putting the kid at the center of every decision, a foundational part of Nike’s new approach to its kids business. Jabaji’s team dubs it “kidvision,” or the idea that kids see the world not as it is, but as it could be. “It’s an innovative lens, a creative lens, a more inclusive and accessible lens,” he says.

Take a screen, for example. Look at it through the eyes of a kid, and they don’t see a negative device. They see a portal into a world where they can be anything they want to be. And that’s where Nike saw opportunity, says Jabaji. “We can meet kids where they are and convert that time into healthy and purposeful movement and activity, and ultimately create a deeper connection with sport.”

 Evolving with the World

Playlist was an instant hit on YouTube, notching millions of views. When the pandemic hit, the team knew their series had to step up. “We were in the middle of our third season, and we thought, ‘We know this content is critical for kids, now more than ever, but how do we bring it to them in a way that resonates with what they’re going through?’” says Moon. They found the unlock in shifting the entire show to an at-home model, with kid athletes like Brown leading a new content pillar called “Shake-Ups,” creative home-based challenges that throw a zany twist into traditional exercises like planks or squats.

Since then, the team’s moved to an entirely remote-capture model, asking kid hosts and pro athletes to film themselves in their homes, where you inevitably see their kitchens, pets and real-life snafus and interruptions. “It feels more raw and personal, and it’s allowed us to expand globally; recently we’ve included kids in Barcelona, Chengdu and Guadalajara.”

The most rewarding part for Moon has been seeing the social element of Playlist unfold. “We’ve found that most kids are watching it with their siblings or their families. They tell us, ‘Hey, I watched Playlist with my sister, and then we went on and made our own secret handshake,’ or ‘I watched it with my mom and we went out to the backyard and tried to jump rope.’” That aim to strengthen the familial bond and inspire everyone to move? As a Playlist host would say, “Knocked it outta the paaark!”

 Doubling Down on the Future

Kids will continue to fuel creativity within the brand when, later this year, Nike introduces the Nike Play Council, a group of young athletes and creators who all share a passion for making sport more fun, accessible and inclusive, and who will help bring Gen Alpha’s vision of sport to life. “It's our opportunity to literally give kids a seat at the table and co-create the future of sport with them,” says Jabaji. The confirmed council members: Sky and Ocean Brown, Brazilian kid skateboarder Rayssa Leal, kid football player Lorenzo Greer (aka Tekkerz Kid), and kid drummer Nandi Bushell (aka “the Most Badass Drummer in the World,” according to drummer Dave Grohl). Each member of the Play Council will consult and collaborate directly with Nike and also help inform and expand the future of the group. While Nike has always been committed to listening to the voice of the athlete*, the Play Council ensures that young athletes’ voices are heard loud and clear.

According to Jabaji, channeling that voice has been Nike’s greatest win in its new approach to its kids business. “If you look at the world through the eyes of a kid and put them at the center of your work, he says, “the potential of what it can unlock is limitless.”

*If you have a body, you are an athlete.

[whatisthiscontentyouspeakof]

Guardian of Light

So for anyone wondering, I don’t have an update schedule at all, just posting when I feel like it, mostly to avoid going to bed. This chapter gives you some information and a flashback to Marinette’s past before she was found unconscious in Paris. 

Would it be helpful to you guys if I put Marinette’s age at the beginning of each section so you have an idea of how much time has past between each part of the story.

AO3  First  Previous Next

Chapter 4: First Days

(Age 3)

Marinette was used to her colourful bedroom so when she awoke in a room that was completely white she was confused. There was no blue ceiling with fluffy white clouds and glow in the dark star stickers, no lush green mountains or fields with fun little animals running around, no giant stuffed animals or anything of the other things that were in her room.

Confused, she was about to call out for her Maman and Papa when she remembered the birthday party in the park and the strange man that had taken her away. Tears started to form in her eyes as the fear came back.

“None of that now.” A voice said. Marinette turned her head to see the man who had taken her standing in the rooms’ doorway. “Crying is for the weak and the weak are unacceptable here.”

“I want to go home,” Marinette said. A part of her wanted to suck on her thumb but that was something babies did and she was three. Not to mention she had a feeling that if crying wasn’t allowed, then neither was thumb sucking.

“Whining is unbecoming of a young lady such as yourself,” The man said. “As for going home, there is no need; this is your home now, Niu.”

“Niu?” Marinette repeated, having never heard the word before. The man had pronounced it ‘nee oo’.

“Your name,” the man said.

“My name is Marinette,” she told him, confused. He had called her it in the park after all.

“That was the name of a weakling, of someone insignificant and worthless,” The man’s voice was cold and mean sounding. “Niu is your name now. You will respond to it. You will not ever respond to Marinette ever again. If you do not follow either of these rules, you will not like what happens. Failure is not acceptable here. Marinette is dead as of today. In her place stands Niu, someone who will be worth something, who will make a difference in the world. From this day on, you will be training with me and the other Guardians so that you can reach that goal. When you are done with your training and have shown us that you are worthy of the title of Grand Guardian you will be able to earn your own name.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Guardian Zhu. I will be your teacher from this point forward. To fail or to be weak here isn’t just a short coming on your part but it also negatively affects me. As such, I expect nothing but perfection from you. If you do not perform to perfection then you will have to face the consequences, and trust me when I say, you will not like them. Now get up. It is time to eat and then I will be showing you what chores I will be expecting you to do every day upon waking.”

Marinette’s chest felt like lead. She swallowed before swinging her legs over the bed and standing up. She walked over to Guardian Zhu, her head looking down at the ground as her heart pounded; her entire body trembling as she walked.

Guardian Zhu whipped around, his hand reaching out and slapping her straight across the face. Marinette fell to the ground, one hand reaching up to touch her face in shock. “You will answer me with a ‘yes Master’ when I speak to you.” Guardian Zhu said sternly.

Marinette looked up at him, her heart pounding. “Yes Master,” she whispered.

(Age 12)

Marinette walked calmly down to the bakery, her parents already down there and working for the day. She would have normally been down there, learning their trade the same way she had every other day, but today marked the first day of school for her. Her parents informed her that she had been in school and with her class the day she was taken but as far as she could remember she had only been taught by a parade of different tutors from across the world. The largest group of peers she had learned with had been four, and that had only been on the one occasion, with most of her other classes either being just her, her and Nuri, or her, Nuri and his cousin, though it was rare that Mara was allowed to learn with them. The rest of the Fist weren’t allowed to ever train with her or Nuri since they were seen as so below them. Never had she been in a class full of strangers.

“Morning Marinette,” Her father greeted from where he was kneading some dough.

“Morning Tom,” she greeted. She and her parents had agreed that it was a bit too soon for her to call them anything but their names. She was waiting for some sort of ‘special’ occasion to call them by any paternal nicknames, though she was unsure if she would ever truly view them as her mom or dad. She wished she could talk to Nuri about this. He would know what it was like to suddenly find himself living with a biological parent that was more stranger than parent.

“Are you ready for your first day of school?” Sabine asked her, having just finished ringing up a customer. The only one that had been in the bakery. The calm before the breakfast rush.

“I have all the suggestion supplies and a few of my own,” Marinette told her. She wasn’t sure what she expected from classes, she didn’t need them after all since she was guaranteed to be farther ahead in her own studies, but they were going to make her seem like a normal kid. She just had to remember to get a question wrong every once in a while and not to see eager to answer questions.

“I meant mentally, sweetie,” Her mother said.

Marinette shrugged, something that would have gotten her smacked at the very least if she’d done it at the Temple or League, but was something she’d seen Chloe do regularly enough that she assumed it was something common among Paris school children. “I see no reason not to be ready. It’s school. I listen to teachers talk about subjects, I socialize, I eat, I go back to class, I come back here.”

Sabine just smiled at her like she was missing something. Why would she be nervous about school of all things? It’s not like she was scaling a cliff wall during an earthquake without any equipment. “If you get overwhelmed or anything like that you can come home right away and we’ll let the school know you weren’t feeling well or something,” Sabine offered.

Marinette smiled at her and thanked her for the offer even though she was sure she wouldn’t need it. It was the polite thing to do after all.

“Here’s your lunch,” Tom said, handing her a stack of tupperware. She placed it in her bag and looked up to see her father handing her a box with the bakeries logo on it. “A little treat to share with your classmates on the first day of the year.”

“Thank you,” Marinette said smiling up at her father. He just offered her the perfect chance to get to know her classmates and decide which ones would be the most useful to be on friendly terms with.

Marinette was about two steps out the bakery doors when a limo pulled up long the crub. The window rolled down to reveal Chloe.

“Get in,” she said.

“The school is literally across the street,” Marinette protested. “Why don’t you get out and walk?”

“Because I’m wearing heels,” Chloe said. Marinette couldn’t really argue against that. Even the Temple didn’t make her wear heels unless absolutely necessary.

Marinette climbed into the limo, realizing there was someone else in the limo. “Hi I’m Marinette,” she said, putting her hand out for the other girl, a red head, to shake.

The girl gripped her hand, firm and professional. “I’m Sabrina Raincomprix. Sorry we haven’t met yet but I’ve been with my mom in Scotland. Divorced parents and all that. But Chloe told me how she made a new friend. I can’t wait to get to know you.”

Marinette smiled at the girl. “Same.” she said politely.

She looked the girl over noting that she looked a bit uncomfortable in her skin, though Marinette couldn’t tell if that was because she was self-conscious or she wasn’t comfortable in the clothing she was wearing. She’d bet that Chloe had picked this girls outfit out for her the same way she had for Marinette. Not that Marinette minded; it gave her a better idea of youth fashion in Paris.

Sabrina was wearing a pair of purple flared dress pants with a blue button up and dark grey blazer. Her shoes were mainly white with black toe covers, laces and soles. She had a white headband in her hair and a pair of red toned brown glasses sitting on her nose.

Chloe, on the other hand, wore an outfit of black and yellow. Actually, Marinette couldn’t think of a time in which the heiress wasn’t wearing black and yellow. At least it made buying gifts on her birthday easier if Marinette went the clothing route. She wore a black pleated skirt with balck tight and black belt. She wore a ¾ sleeve yellow shirt topped with a shiny black tie. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and with a pair of black sunglasses sitting on top of her head. Her heels were black with gold little bobbles that suggested buttons, and red underbottoms hinting to their designer origins.

Marinette had decided to wear the outfit Chloe had sent her. One, she was still trying not to rock the boat, and two, Chloe would know better than her what would be popular to wear on the first day of school. Marinette could study all she wanted but there were only things you could learn first hand. She wore a dress which had two different colours, separating the top and the bottom to give the appearance of her wearing a skirt and top. The skirt of the dress was royal blue in a half circle style. A black belt, it was really just a strip of fabric sewn into the dress, sat just below her waist, creating a drop waist silhouette. The top of the dress was also black with ¾ sleeves and a large curved neckline. Chloe had sent her a pair of black kitty heels but she had decided to wear flats and her hair was pulled up into what would be a ballerina bun if Marinette’s hair wasn’t several feet long, the layers in her hair creating a messier, more teenage, version to the perfect bun of professional ballerinas.

The limo pulled up to the curb in front of the school. The three of them got out and Chloe’s driver pulled away. Sabrina and Chloe started to head into the building but Marinette grabbed Chloe’s arm before she could get too far away.

“Why does this place feel familiar?” she asked the blond, the only person outside of her parents who knew of her kidnapping and knew her before it had happened.

Chloe looked at her paling a bit as she came to a realization. “Our old school, where we attended Maternelle, used to be here. They bulldozed it the year after you were taken,” CHloe whispered to her. “They built this school here last year when they decided to decrease class sizes in Paris and needed another school.”

“Oh,” Marinette said. After a moment she shrugged. “Hey, what better way to start a new chapter of your life then to close an old one.”

(Age 13)

There was an energy in the air when Marinette awoke that had not been there before. Something was going to happen today, she just knew it.

Marinette glanced over at the clock seeing that there were only a few minutes left until her alarm would go off and decided to get up anyways, knowing she could just say she was excited to start the school year if her parents made a comment. She didn’t know what they had against her waking up so early, they were bakers after all, but she tried to seem like she was sleeping in during the school year. She’d already been up at the wee hours of the morning to go for a run, both on the ground and across the rooftops. She wasn’t about to let herself get out of shape.

Marinette got dressed for her first day of class, slipping on the outfit that Chloe had picked out for her, once again gifting her and Sabrina with new clothing for the first day of school. Unlike the year before, Marinette’s style no longer shifted towards dark clothing, instead taking on a brighter and more colourful and inviting colour scheme, finding that it helped her fit in more and make her seem kinder and more inviting instead of cold and aloof. Not to mention she no longer had a tactical advantage with wearing darker colours that she needed to concern herself with.

This year Chloe had gotten her a pastel pink chiffon floor length skirt, something Marinette would never have picked for herself, but found herself liking it. It was also easy to hide her throwing daggers beneath the flowing skirt. She wore a whtie tank top that she did some white on white embroidery on since the outfit had arrived a couple of days before school started and she wanted to experiment with something new. She wore a light grey fisherman rib knitted sweater over it, which had actually been a hand knitted gift from Sabrina for her birthday. Judging by the texture of the yarn it was cashmere, and had likely been bought by Chloe. She had slept with curlers in her hair, leaving her hair in a nice wave before she pulled it back into one of her favourite styles, a messy bun. It hid the true length of her hair well and kept it out of her face while she worked, the messy nature making her seem more like a busy youth.

After a quick breakfast Marinette heads off to school, a box of Macarons from her dad for her to share with her classmates. She had convinced Chloe that they could just meet at school this year instead of having the blond pick her up in a limo, which meant she had to follow things like crosswalk lights, the one leading from her parents bakery to the school having just turned red when Marinette arrived. Sighing, she moved into a more relaxed position to wait only to see an old man half was across the street and a car speeding towards him.

Not about to let an old man be squished, it would put a bad spin on her day and she didn’t feel like dealing with the police, Marinette rushed forward and grabbed the man by the arm. A slight spark went through her and she glanced down spotting a bracelet on a leather string with a turtle in the middle. The spark that had come from the man could have been static shock but Marinette had trained long and hard enough to know what it felt to make contact with someone else who had trained to be a Guardian. This was the man who had all but destroyed the Order of Guardians, running off with the First Miracle Box and apparently wielding the Turtle Miraculous.

Marinette dropped her pastry box, making it appear as if she had stumbled a bit as the two of them made it safely back onto the sidewalk, reaching into her pocket to grab a tiny tracker that would look to the untrained eye to be a small pebble and slipped it into the man's pocket. She couldn’t let on that she had sense anything different about him but she wasn’t about to let him get away.

Marinette picked her dessert box off the ground hoping she hadn’t destroyed too many of the delicate macarons with that little trick before offering the man one out of politeness before crossing the street with a quick ‘stay safe’. If she found out where the man worked, most Guardians were to be self employed, she could ‘stumble’ upon it and try to gain the man's trust, at least until she found where the First Miracle Box was and could claim it, though it would be better if she could manipulate the old man into giving it to her since it would create a stronger bond right off the bat. She would stop at nothing to get the box however, even if it meant taking years to create a strong enough bond with the box and the Kwami’s inside. After all, the only reason the Guardians had not tried to contact her or bring her back to the Temple was because of their belief that unseen powers brought things to be and that one of those unseen powers was one of the reasons Marinette reunited with her parents and thus there must be a reason that she had to stay in Paris. Reclaiming the First Miracle Box and becoming Grand Guardian was her destiny and now she knew for a fact that it was in Paris, within miles of her, and she’d rather die than let it slip through her fingers then fail her destiny.

Heading over to the school, Marinette pushed thoughts of the First Miracle Box from her mind, instead focusing on being just Marinette, the daughter of two bakers. She smiled as she climbed the school steps instantly spotting Chloe standing just inside the entrance.

“I thought I’d have to make my way to our classroom before I found you,” she told the heiress. “What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for you obvious,” Chloe said, lying to her. Marinette decided not to push it at the moment, mainly because the bell for them to head to class sounded, and she had all over lunch to interrogate her friend.

The world was apparently against her finding out what Chloe was lying to her for because after their first class during their study period, a massive crash sounded around the school. The surveillance showed one of her classmates, Ivan, transformed into a stone being. Marinette could have waved off the sudden attack as one of a pissed off Meta the way a lot of her schoolmates were doing, but with the meeting between her and the shameful Grand Guardian trainee had her thinking it was all too much of a coincidence for it not to all be Miraculous related.

Marinette made her way home and up to her room to formulate a plan on how she could be involved without bringing unwanted attention to herself but the second she stepped into her room she sensed something off. A quick glance around the room showed that someone had been up there and had left a black box on her desk. Someone who wasn’t her parents since they’d be too busy with the bakery to step out.

Slowly approaching the box, Marinette started going over all the possibilities of what the box could be when she saw a familiar symbol, one she had seen all her life.

The symbol of the Order of Guardians

A miraculous box was sitting on her desk.

Stepping forward she picked up the box and opened it, closing her eyes so as not to be blinded by the bright light that it omitted as the Kwami inside formed its physical body.

She opened her eyes and had to blink, not quite believing what she was seeing.

“Hello Marinette, you are the only one who can stop Stoneheart and save Ivan and the rest of Paris,” The Kwami, the Scarab Kwami, said looking up at her with wide eyes.

She was chosen to be the next Scarab wielder.

Well shit, she hadn’t been this put off by a surprise revelation since she’d woken from the coma to find her birth parents waiting for her. Who knew that this was how the day was going to go.

Next

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[jj-lives]

Overgrown Inktober - Bmblb

The pale orange glow peeking through the closed curtains told Blake it was too early for her to be awake. Yang still slept peacefully beside her, as she had the morning before when Blake stared at the ceiling for hours. She tried to fall back to sleep, even gently curling into Yang’s side, which normally had her passing out in minutes, could not turn off the thoughts swimming in her mind. It shouldn’t matter who Yang was back in highschool. It shouldn’t matter that the picture Blake had in her head wasn’t correct. Yang told her once she didn’t have many friends growing up. She’d told her Pyrrha was her first friend. But that wasn’t true. The group they’d run into two days before proved that.

Blake was upset but she couldn’t decide if it was because Yang had been dishonest with her or that the picture of the two of them being kindred spirits was washed away at the knowledge. She’d seen Yang as her equal. Her partner. Her… soulmate. But those things were in part based on the knowledge they’d both been lonely and slightly lost before they’d found each other.

She knew it was stupid. Taking a moment to watch Yang sleep frustrated her more. She didn’t love Yang any less. How could she? She was still the same loving, beautiful, always-put-others-before-herself self. It wasn’t possible for Blake to love Yang any less when each day she woke up next to her, and each night she fell asleep wrapped in the other’s arms, she fell more and more hopelessly in love.

Giving up on sleep and feeling restless Blake slipped out of bed before she woke Yang with her tossing. She didn’t want to answer the questions Yang would ask at her being up so early. She didn’t want Yang seeing this petty side of her that was upset she’d had a happier, more friend-filled, childhood than her own.

Making her way quietly to the kitchen downstairs she thought a cup of tea might calm her. She knew she needed to figure out a way to put these thoughts behind her. It shouldn’t matter. And maybe that’s why she was so worked up about it all. She knew she was acting irrationally, and she wasn’t used to that.

This wasn’t her.

The kettle just came to a boil when Tai walked into the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re up early today.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Blake simply replied. “Would you like some tea?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

She poured the boiling water in a teapot before carrying it and two cups to the table where Tai had settled. They sat in silence waiting for the tea to steep, but as she poured them both a cup Tai finally broke the silence.

“Any reason you couldn’t sleep?”

“Not really.”

She knew he meant well but she really didn’t think talking to Yang’s dad about their relationship was a good idea. Especially since she’d only met the man not even a week ago. This was something he probably wouldn't understand. The fact she didn't quite understand proved that. If she couldn't figure out her own mind how was a stranger supposed to help her?

“Yang wasn’t snoring was she?” Tai took a sip from the cup Blake slid over to him. “She used to wake Ruby and I all the time.”

“Really?” Blake asked, amused. If only it was that simple. “She’s not that bad now.”

“That’s good to hear. I take you as kind to be dangerous with little sleep.”

Blake laughed.

“Hardly. Though, I wonder why you approached me this morning if you thought I’d be dangerous.”

“I like to live a little on the wild side.” He sent a teasing wink Blake’s direction.

“So that’s where Yang gets it from.”

“She sure does come off as a thrill seeker, that’s for sure.” Finishing the last of his tea he seemed to be observing Blake. She wasn’t sure why and it was starting to unnerve her. “I was about to head out to do some gardening. Would you like to join me?”

“I-“

“Don’t tell me my daughter brought home a princess scared to get a little dirt under her fingernails?”

“Hey!” Indignant was an understatement. The last thing anyone would call her was a princess. “I think you’re getting your daughter’s girlfriends confused.” The quirk of his lip told Blake she’d played right into his hand. He’d meant to force a reaction from her. But two could play at that game. “I’ll join you, however. I wouldn’t want you injuring yourself in your confusion, Old man.”

Tai threw his head back and roared.

“Oh I knew you couldn’t be only the meek and quiet girl that turned up on my doorstep a few days ago. There had to have been some attitude hidden away to have Yang falling so hard.”

Blake knew she was blushing.

“Come on then. Let’s get to work.” Tai stood. “Do you want to change first?”

Shaking her head Blake carried their cups to the sink. “I wouldn’t want to wake Yang. I’ll change once she gets up. Besides it’s warm out.”

Following him to the shed outside he threw her a spare pair of gloves before leading her to the flowerbed on the side of the house.

“You know what are weeds, right?”

Kneeling on one side Blake nodded again.

Tai shook his head. “You are a woman of few words, Blake.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed in reply. “I think it sometimes infuriates your daughter.”

They worked in silence side by side for about an hour before Tai’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She was glad for the distraction as the monotony of her task was allowing her mind to wander to unpleasant thoughts again.

“You aren’t picking these annoying beasts.” He pointed out pulling a spindly light green plant from its spot next to a half bloomed tulip. “They are impossible to get rid of.”

“Get rid of?” Blake looked back at the patch she’d cleared. “I’d agree. But they are pretty easy to manage and you want to keep some around. They naturally deter pests and their scent drives away mosquitoes as well.”

“Hmm,” Tai looked at the plant with less distaste. “You really know your plants, huh?”

“My mother has a large garden and I grew up helping her manage it.” Shrugging her shoulder she threw another weed into her growing pile. “I also read a lot.”

“Oh, a scholar.” Tai laughed. “Can’t believe my little social butterfly grew up and fell in love with a bookworm.” Shaking his head he went back to work.

“Yeah.” Blake roughly picked another weed, accidentally half uprooting a daisy behind it. “Ugh.”

She could feel Tai’s eyes on her as his hands stilled.

“I heard you ran into some of the old gang a few days ago.” He said quietly.

“Sure did.” Blake responded, packing the daisy’s roots back securely in the dirt. Hopefully it would continue to thrive and not wilt. “The Xiao Long Legend.” Blake paused, picking up a ladybug from a weed she was currently wanting to get rid of. She placed it on the petal of one of the tulips in an area she’d already cleared. “That’s what they called her.”

Tai chuckled at the old nickname.

“She sure was always surrounded by a lot of schoolmates.”

"Sure seems like she had an abundance of friends."

"You would not believe some of the stories I could tell you of how Yang always found herself at the center of some ordeal or another." Blake responded by doubling her efforts, moving over a foot and working at clearing the new section. "But that doesn't equate to the same thing as friendships."

Her hands stopped halfway through pulling a difficult, long-rooted weed from the middle of the patch.

"Some people protect themselves through silence and mystery. Some choose a different path."

"I don't understand." Blake was sure the silent mystery he mentioned was aimed at her but she wasn't sure where he was trying to lead their conversation.

"You, I would wager, cover up who you are with weeds and thorns."

"I-"

"So others have to pick each prickly problem before they earn your trust and get to see the flower beneath that rough exterior.”

He motioned to the flower garden. Most had been picked clean from their continued ministrations. The colourful flowers once hidden by the quick growing wall of weeds now on display ready to flourish. But there was a small section still covered by a thick overgrowth that continued to block the light from reaching the life within.

“Tai. How-“

“But my eldest daughter. Ever the first to step forward with a hug or a smile. The one that lives to brighten everyone else’s day…” He paused, caressing a bright yellow marigold. “Well, like I said. Some hide in the shadows covered in thorns for protection. Others hide in plain sight, letting forced smiles and mock laughter distract others from finding out what truly lies beneath.”

“Blake.” Yang’s muffled call drifted to their ears followed by quickened heavy steps descending the stairs inside.

“You and her are more alike than you think. Both hiding behind a wall of overgrowth.” Tai smiled warmly. “Yang’s can be harder to see because it’s hidden well. But I would bet she shows you a side of herself she hasn’t shown many. I’d wager you know aspects of my daughter I don’t even get to see.”

Blake remembered the scared, frail girl that knocked on her door before spring break, terrified of losing her. The sad and lonely side that she showed her behind closed doors during finals. The frantic fear Yang failed to hold back the night of her apartment fire.

“I can finish out here.” Tai spoke, breaking her thoughts. “You should go find yang before she destroys all of Patch looking for you.”

Blake stood, dusting the dirt and grass from her knees.

“And Blake.”

“Yes?”

To Blake, it looked like Tai was fighting back tears, but she couldn't fathom why.

“I would trade all the ridiculous stories of Yang’s youth and classmates to have had you come into her life sooner. And I’m positive Yang feels the same way.”

Blake smiled, understanding exactly what he meant. She felt the same about Yang and would give anything to have had more time with her. Brushing her hand along his shoulders in a silent action of comfort she made her way to the front of the small home. Yang stepped onto the porch with a worried expression.

All the doubt and negative emotions that were building the past two days washed away at the sight of her. Blake couldn’t understand why she’d been wasting time she could have been peacefully enjoying in her girlfriend's presence.

“Never again,” she promised.

“What was that?” Yang questioned.

Blake took the front steps two at a time and rushed to Yang’s side, wrapping her arms securely around Yang’s framed and burying her face in the crook of Yang’s neck. Blake breathed deep and hummed her approval.

Yang laughed, squeezing Blake just as tightly in return.

“What’s gotten you so clingy?”

“I’m just really happy.” Blake whispered, pulling back to place a soft kiss to Yang’s lips. As Yang pressed to deepen the kiss Blake spun out of her arms.

“Hey!” Yang’s disappointment was evident. “You’re such a tease.”

Blake laughed, grabbing Yang’s hand and pulled her into the house. Giddy was the closest word she knew to describe how she was feeling. She squeezed Yang’s hand her cursory three times as she dragged her through the lower level of the house.

“I need to shower and change clothes. While you were sleeping your father was putting me to work.”

Yang held tight to Blake’s hand as they made their way upstairs.

“Do I get to join you in this shower?”

A sharp pull spun Blake around. Yang stepped forward, trapping Blake against the closed bathroom door; their still entwined hands pinned to the wood just above Blake’s head. She sucked in a sharp breath before Yang stole the kiss she’d denied her on the porch. Blake melted and a moan escaped her as she returned the kiss.

“Is that a yes?” Yang queried as they pulled a part.

Blake groaned. Yang was the only one able to tempt her in these ways. Entwining the fingers of her free hand in the curls at the base of Yang’s neck she pulled her in for another sultry kiss. She was about to open the door and drag Yang in, accepting her earlier proposal when the open window at the end of the hall brought a whistled tune to her ears.

She pushed Yang roughly back, breathing hard she ran her hands through her hair lest they grab Yang in their desperate need to have her closer.

“Your dad is right outside.”

“We could be-“

“Quiet?” Blake shook her head. “I can’t Yang.”

Her disappointed groan amused Blake. The slumped figure against the opposite wall was something she pitied.

“But if you’re good for the next two days…” Blake spoke, opening the door behind her and half disappearing from Yang’s view. “I can arrange for Ruby to be gone for a few days when we get back home.”

“Deal.” Yang was quick to agree as Blake chuckled and closed the door, locking it for good measure.

God did she love that girl

[valiancyvulnerability]

What It’s Like Being Gay in a Town Where It Isn’t Accepted

     I made the choice to come out publicly mid-March of 2020, after the COVID-19 pandemic left the majority of Illinois stuck in our homes for the safety of others. I thought this would be a good time for me to make my announcement as it was an opportunity to avoid facing any of my peers after the fact, and I also wanted to do so before I moved into my first year of college.

     If I’m being honest, it was something I had always feared as a child. Being an individual who tries too hard to please everyone and be liked, I knew it was something that wasn’t necessarily the most accepted where I lived. I live in a predominantly white and conservative area, and there is nothing wrong with that, but that is a vital piece of information to know as I explain myself in this piece of writing. I moved to my current town when I was in the first grade, and based off my interests, personality, and mannerisms, everyone immediately made their assumptions about me, so I quickly began to alter and adjust accordingly in order to keep the remarks at bay. Additionally, my mom worked in the school district, so in order to avoid being talked about since I already felt like I was in the public eye, I just wanted to blend in with the crowd as much as I could.

     The lying to myself and to everyone around me didn’t cease until I was already out of high school. The first three words that title this post are “What It’s Like”, so with that being said, I want to share specific experiences I have had growing up that have stuck with me, and are all contributors as to why I waited so long to come out. Being gay in a town where it isn’t accepted is:

Giving a sheet of paper that has “GAY” written in big letters to your Kindergarten teacher, asking what it meant and why a 16 year-old handed it to you on the bus

Being targeted by a group of first grade classmates at recess for being a gymnast, and that it’s a “gay sport for girls”

Being told in an elementary music class, with an unchanged voice, as all elementary schoolers have, that I sing like a girl and that it would make more sense to go sit with them if we sound the same anyways

Being twelve and intentionally coughed on by an eighth grader, followed by the kindest “Move out of my way, faggot”

Hearing boys on the other side of the locker room say they feel uncomfortable that they have to change around me

Being shoved into a gym locker without any clothes on

Hearing an upperclassman say they don’t want the “fat closeted kid” on his team in gym class

Being shown a photo of a skinned deer with a caption “I am going to cut you up”

Singing a solo for a school assembly with the choir and directly facing the front row of boys while they laugh

Being called out in class for “only wanting equal LGBTQ+ rights because I’m too scared to come out of the closet”

Having someone tell you, (”No offense”), “If you want my guy friends to like you, you just need to stop acting gay, because you do a little bit” and that “you dressed like a grandma today”

Being called a bloody tampon because you dyed your hair red

Being laughed at for what you’re wearing by a whole table of underclassman boys that turn around and watch you get a napkin before lunch

Having a group of boys from school make a (very condescending) point to all like a boy’s comment complimenting one of my pictures on social media

And this is the one that will stick with me more than any other one:

Being sent this message on an anonymous social media platform this year-- 

“You’re the biggest f***wad I know. Just come out as gay already because you’ve seen more girls get undressed simply because you’re friends with them. Your tattoo looks cool but that’s about it. You look like an emo girl trying not to cut her wrists”

My mother raised me on kindness. She raised me on lifting others up. She raised me on being there for others. The thing I struggled with the most is that I couldn’t get my mind wrapped around the fact that I tried my hardest to be kind to others, no matter how they treated me, and it felt like I just had disrespect and insults spat back at me. I found myself using the “not everyone is going to like you” phrase often, because there were many times where it felt like, truly, I was disliked by everyone.

My junior year of high school, I fell into an eating disorder, and consequently lost weight and started dressing differently to dodge any negative attention that I had been faced with previously. I started partying. Drinking every weekend. Hanging with people fueled by hate. The result was all I could have asked for. I was liked by my classmates. I was on Homecoming Court. Guys at my school willingly spoke to me. The only issue with all of that though is that there was no genuine part of Carson that was present. It was entirely phony.

Once I found a friend group I felt accepted in my senior year of high school, my world entirely changed. I gradually found myself and became more comfortable with who I was as a person and I no longer felt a need to pretend about anything. I had that sense of security, so I didn’t have to worry about the opinions of people that didn’t have anything to do with me. I knew who I was, and I was still going to be respectful and kind towards those who weren’t to me, because that’s all I can do.

With all that said, there are some things that can be done.

I understand if my way of life doesn’t completely align with your beliefs, and I completely respect that. However, if it doesn’t affect you directly, then there is no point, none at ALL, to make an individual feel lesser than you, feel isolated, or feel like an alien. I have always been Carson, and always will be.

I am not a parent so some may think my opinion is unjustified here, but as children we are taught certain principles and morals that shape the way we treat others. If a child is raised that they need to show kindness to everyone EXCEPT group ABC or group XYZ, then something is wrong there in my eyes. 

My teachers were always great about making everyone feel included and welcome in their classrooms. I do challenge the education system as a whole, though, to not shy away from conflict regarding homophobia. Many times it is brushed off to avoid “ruffling any feathers”, so to speak, but that is not a solution that I can find the least bit of validity in. By sitting back and letting mistreatment happen to avoid “taking a side”, unfortunately, you are doing nothing but taking the side of the oppressor.

As the youth is shifting towards a more vocal and diverse generation, it is important for this to be talked about. Your location on the map should not be a deciding factor in how you are going to be treated, especially if it’s something you live with that can not and will not change. There is so much negativity and mistreatment among children and adolescents that is swept under the rug, and there needs to be some sort of action taken to get the general attitude among the youth (and adults, too, for that matter) moving in a more positive direction.

Be kind to one another. Find common ground within your differences, and learn to respect them. Stay safe and healthy, as always, and I hope everyone is doing well.

And happy Pride Month.

[farzeenx234]

Digital life stories final

I remember it was June 12, 2012. As I got off the stairs of my plane, I knew my life would never be the same. New challenges were waiting ahead of me and I had to confront them. The difficult thing about moving to a new culture is that a lot of people would feel fear because they are so used to their own culture. So, now they leave what they are used to for a new way and it will be hard for them to adapt. Some may like the new food and the pace of life, then later on in the month people may feel like the new life and culture is unpleasant life. For instance: public hygiene, the language barriers, traffic safety, and food accessibility. Feeling lonely, hopeless or overwhelmed at such an enormous life change. People leave their home countries for various reasons, to escape as a refugee, or immigrate for a change in life. As easy as it seems to be there are so many roadblocks along the way. I was born and raised in Pakistan, my home country. Growing up I was very outgoing, confident, and had a relaxed outlook on life. I was always satisfied and content with my life. That was before my mom married my step dad, and then we were on our way to New York. I could only describe my feelings in one word -- apprehensive. A long and tedious 17-hour flight was ahead of me. I sat restlessly in my seat with a blanket on. My naivety allowed me to think that that blanket was more of a shield rather than a cloth to protect me from the cold. It was a shield that blurred my future and comforted me temporarily. I had no idea what I was going to be. The fact that moving to new country hunts me till this day. Trying to figure out who I was going to be as a person . Deep within I knew that I was scared; But I remember my mom words that we are moving for a better life. I was leaving all my friends, my family, and in a way my life behind. I had to start my life over again. Not only did I have to live a new life I had to conquer it. The moment I stepped out of my plane and into a fresh territory I transformed, mentally and emotionally. I went from being a social extrovert person to a very quiet and shy girl. I had spent 12 years of my life building my character, my personality, all of me. I did not understand why I was expected to change myself. Looking back I could blame it on the confusion, the pressure I put on myself during such a tender age. I had to learn a new language, culture and blend myself with other people, which at that moment I thought was necessary to do so. My mom admitted me into a middle school. The first day of school was the most terrifying moment of my life. I walked in with an anxious expression and for some peculiar reason was ready to be humiliated as if being from somewhere else was so bad. As I went to my first class, I vividly remember feeling like I needed to do something to gain attention and have everyone like me. Under the pressure of blending in, I became the polar opposite of who I truly am. I knew I had to start a new chapter in my life. My first year of going to school in U.S the biggest struggle I had was getting bullied. Though bullying does not seem to connect to school in a related to school and learning sense, bullying in schools causes a lot of negative body-structure-related effects that change how a student will perform in school and the opinions they will form about schools and other American institutions. Many existing school policies, like the structure of English Language Learning classes as being subtractive relating to viewing foreign languages as an interference for related to people who enter a country and related to social pressure, how people act toward each other, etc. normal behaviors and prejudiced mental pictures make schools unsafe for immigrants and children of immigrants youth. This problem comes from gener all good people in the world), instead of being a direct result of education, which makes finding appropriate ways to reduce bullying in schools or handling migrants child bullying situation complex.

hough there is the existence of being one of the most important causing people or animals to interact with others so they're more friendly institutions for youth in America, schools seem to fail at helping appreciation and acceptance of differences present in students. Research shows “ within the last decade, minority groups have surpassed the American mainstream, which has classically been considered to be American-born, White middle class, in the K-12 age bracket of the population. Currently, minority students make up more than half of the school-aged population (Calderón, Slavin and Sánchez 2011) and approximately twenty percent of the youth population are immigrants or children of immigrants (Pumariega and Rothe 2010.) Out of immigrants and children of immigrants, a majority of these students are Hispanic, specifically of Mexican descent, and of Asian descent According to another research published online on March1, 2012 in the Journal of Adolescent Health: Children born outside America, or born into immigrant families, are more likely to become victims of bullying as compared with kids born in the US.Kids born outside the US were more likely to be the victims of bullying rather than being the perpetrators. In addition, Fairfax County Youth Survey School Year 2010-11 data showed that:49% of teens reported that they were called bad names on the basis of their race and culture.Meanwhile, 43% reported that at some point they had targeted a peer on the basis of race and ethnicity.”

Bullying made me something I was not I did not know any English at all and that made me feel excluded as if I did not belong here. One day, when I was in my english class, the teacher made groups of people and had us discuss about how the story we were reading . In my group, there were three Americans and me; for a few minutes I felt I had fit in the group. But when they would not even let me talk, I realized I did not feel included and little by little they completely forgot I was part of the group. There are many children that are born in different countries or move to a different countries and have two cultures, everyday they have to live their lives feeling like they do not belong to a community or even to the only country they know. I made a ton of new friends, but with the wrong intentions. I wanted to have as many friends as I could so I would be popular, a term that I now have found a new meaning for. Making those friends still haunts to how bad I turned out to be. As I got closer to graduation, I reflected on what I had become -- a bogus, arrogant, and ignorant person. I knew that these qualities were not the ones I wanted to embrace. I knew I had to do something so there could be a little authenticity left in me. I knew I had to start a new chapter in my life. Once my high school years began, I made more friends with the same wrong intentions. As I was making more friends, I stumbled upon a girl named Sara, I watched how she handled her life. I saw how she embraced her unique self. Watching her grow into the kind of person that I wanted to be deeply influenced me. That was who I wanted to become. Once again, I transformed myself. But this time it was in a positive way, I became friends with people who liked me for who I was. I was still popular, but this time, I was popular within the small group of friends I had. This time, I had people around me that actually cared about me. This time, I had people around me that wanted the best for me. My brother sometimes asks me if I regret my days in middle school and my response is always no. My experience allowed me to become who I am today. Now that I am reflecting on what I have become: understanding, caring and once again content with my life. Also working on my passion my childhood dream.When I was 15 years old, one year before I graduated from high school, my mom talked to me about what they thought would be best for me to study. she said that good careers were Doctor or Lawyer; I did not give an answer about what I wanted to study that day. However, while I was at school the next day, I thought that maybe that becoming a doctor or lawyer was something I have to study because I did not want her to get upset Studying these types of careers would most likely take me eight to ten years, and I did not want to attend college for that long. One day talked to my mom, and I told her that I would love to become a doctor or even a lawyer, but I want to fulfill my childhood dream. Ever since I was little, I wanted to be called Ma’am or Miss. Growing up in Pakistan made me see the lack of motivation and passion people had for education. Along with that, I also saw how undermined girls were in every aspect. They were forced to stay home and deal with chores. Fortunately, I was born in a family that was open-minded. Though a single mother, my mom always allowed me to fulfill my passion to its full potential. Due to my mother’s passion for education I built a vision for my future. I had always wanted to be a teacher. Differences between how girls were subjected to be a house-wife and boys were expected to be an engineer or a doctor provoked me and made me extremely passionate about teaching.n I wanted to teach people that, though physically different, there is not much difference between how capable boys and girls are.

I still have the vivid visual in my mind: a six year old with a chalk in her hand teaching an imaginary class of 20 students. I knew each and everyone of their names, I knew their strengths, their weaknesses and how to bring out the best. One of my imaginary students was always motivated by the idea of a lavish lifestyle. I told him that he could obtain this by studying hard. In my mind, still to this day, the idea that anything can be gained by studying hard is stuck.

My younger sister would always try and copy me. She would make up her own imaginary class and teach them. We would argue about who is the better teacher and who had more students. Though, at first, watching her teach her own class angered me because it was ‘my thing’. After some time went on, I was rathered motivated by her-she made me realize that if I could ignite a passion for education in her, I could do it for others as well.

The dust that fell from the chalk in the hands of a younger, and still in progress of being Ms. Fatima, though it's gone for now, comes out in the form of motivation when I am feeling down. The remembrance of how I was needed to change the lives of 20 imaginary kids never fails to motivate me to study harder so I could help more lives.Many times parents need to understand what their adolescents want to pursue as a career. It is about what their child wants to do for the rest of her life, not about what the parents want their children to do or study. My experience allowed me to become who I am today. Now that I am reflecting on what I have become: understanding, caring and once again content with my life. Also working on my passion my childhood dream.

[a-sweet-violent-urge]

Michael Jackson

Yeah, I know, I know what state the world is in right now but trust me, this post has been a long time coming. I just never got around to write it. And I’m sitting down to do it now because I’ve been locked at home for a week so I guess it’s now or never. 

One look at my blog will tell you that I very rarely post personal stuff on here. I just reblog things and sometimes express opinions about my fav shows but that’s it. But I’m gonna get personal now.

I guess now’s the time to point out that I’m also not the most eloquent person around so to anyone reading, this might seem a bit all over the place, you’ve been warned. 

The last few months have been really hard for me and my family. My father died last December. I still can’t wrap my head around it. I was used to not having him around at home, he was always working, you know, to bring money home, and now.. I ... I think of him as not home, not gone. Don’t know if that makes sense. You’re probably wondering what does this have to do with Michael Jackson? I’ll get to that, be patient with me. 

Anyone who really knows me, and to be honest this is not a lot of people, I’m introverted, knows that listening to music is how I deal with things. I remember being a senior in high school, we were doing a speaking exercise in my English class, and my teacher asked us what influenced us the most in life, like, what helped shape our view on life and the world.  When it was my turn to answer, I said that it was music and the artists I listened to. The rest of the group (I’m saying group not class for a reason, but I don’t want to go into that much detail) probably thought it was weird, they talked about their friends and family. But this was the truth for me. It still is. The music I listen to (along with the books I read) is what has influenced me the most in life, it’s what made me the person I am today. This is the reason why I’ve always hated talking about music, my favorite music has always been something very personal to me. I’ve always hated the question who’s your favorite artist. People would think it’s an easy one to answer but it’s not, not to me

This is where I start to talk about Michael. He was one of those artists (who influenced me) but I only realize that now, in retrospect. Actually, around the time I answered that question, the artists I meant were 30STM, or Linkin Park, MCR or whatever the hell I listened to back then. 

I think the first time I listened to MJ intentionally was sadly after he died. I was born in September 1994, so I was not 15 yet. Up until that point, MJ was just a name in my head. I knew he was a singer, I knew what he looked like (’cause who didn’t or doesn’t), I know what he was very famous (though I had no idea why), I had heard songs, of course, though I didn’t really realize they were MJ songs. And despite all of that, me not knowing basically anything about him, I remember how hard his death hit me. I don’t know why. I felt like my fav artist had died, I felt like I had lost someone. To this day I can’t explain to myself why. I remember in what room I was when I heard the news. I watched the memorial and cried my eyes out. 

After that, I decided to listen to his music. I listened to a lot of it and for a month or two, (or probably more, I don’t really remember) I listened mostly to him. I learnt more and more things about him. Like, about his philanthropic work, about the allegations (I’ll talk about that later), actually I remember being like 10 and watching the trial being covered on the news here. Songs like The way you make me feel, Dirty Diana, Give into me quickly became my favorites. But I remember the first times I heard Man in the Mirror, Earth song, Heal the Word, We are the World. And especially Man in the Mirror. The lyrics If you wanna make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and then make a change had become like my motto in life and I didn’t even realise it until the past few months. I realized that often when I had to make a choice about something, those lyrics would pop up in my head. When I saw or read something about the environmental problems that we’re facing, Earth song ended up popping in my head. Yeah, MJ had helped shape my view on certain things and I didn’t even know then.

After my 2009 MJ phase, I hardly ever listened to him. I would listen to some songs from time to time when the mood struck me, but that was it. 

Fast forward to October/November 2019. I was on YT and I ended up listening to some MJ songs., it was one of those times when the mood struck me, and I was going through the comment section (as I always do) while listening, and I noticed people commenting about .. a certain documentary. I don’t even want to say its name. So I was like what the fuck has happened and I looked it up. My initial reaction was seriously, this again?

Ok, I’ll go back to 2009 for a bit. When I got into MJ 11 years ago, as I mentioned earlier, I read about the allegations, I remembered even seeing it on the news as I said. But he was found not guilty. It was good enough for me. I didn’t think much about it. I didn’t care much about it. Plus he had just died. Nobody had one bad word to say about him. Ironic, huh? Also, I couldn’t do research even if I wanted to. I was young, I didn’t really speak English that well, and honestly, in the last few months I realized that when it comes to Michael Jackson, the truth is buried under so many false stories and dare I say, blatant lies, that you need an excavator to dig it out. I’m putting this in bold, in case a none MJ fan reads this, if you want to find the truth, know what you’re getting yourself into. Anyway, I couldn’t even fully appreciate some songs, because you need context to fully understand them, and I didn’t have that context then. 

Fast forward to 2019 again. So I found out about you-know-what and I started reading about it and watching videos, educating myself on the matter. In other words, I had gone down the rabbit hole. But it was not just that what sparked my interest in Michael. I noticed something. Something many people were writing in the comment section of different. Michael was an angel. Michael is/was love. What would have Michael done (about whatever) if he was alive? I was like what?! Look, I have spend my life fangirling over different celebrities and I had never seen people saying things like that. And this was the moment, I asked myself the question, why was this person so famous and so loved by so many people from all over the world? Why HIM? Yes, he was immensely talented but that applies to a lot of artists. So why Michael? Now I know why. If you’re a fan reading this, you know why, too. If you’re not, go figure it out on your own. 

It’s funny how a movie filled with not even clever lies, made so Michael’s name could one more time be run through the dirt, made me his fan (ugh, I hate that word, I almost feel like it has a negative connotation nowadays). Made me more than just a fan. If you remember, I started this post by saying that my father passed away in December. It all happened very fast, in less then 3 months, he wasn’t sick and then he was, and then, before we even knew it, he was gone. I was in the room when he died. So you see in what period of my life Michael’s music entered my life again. In a period when I needed a little light, something to keep the faith. In those months (and even now, more than 3 months later) Michael’s art was my lifeline. Keep the faith, Gone too soon, Had enough, Will you be there, Little Susie and so on. 

Here are some lyrics that really hit me hard

The feeling of terror she felt as a youth Has turned from a fantasy into the truth (Scared of the moon)

I drowned my pain in his music. His love, his kindness and generosity reminded me of my purpose in life. I won’t go into details about what I experienced because this already got more personal than I’m comfortable with. Plus, my vocabulary is not good enough to do it justice. I’ll finish with this. I’m in complete awe of him and the things he did. Like, yesterday I found out he made a song about sign language. Seeing voices. 

So, that’s my MJ story. I hope it’s comprehensible, you don’t know how hard it was for me to put this into a somewhat coherent narrative. But I really needed to get it off my chest. I probably missed some things that I wanted to say, if I think of something more, I’ll add an edit.

By the way, as you can see, I’m new to the MJ community and I’d love to make some friends, so feel free to message me. 

[historian--in--training]

Unsung Heroes: The Societal and Historical Suppression of Black Women Activists During the Civil Rights Movement

by Sarah Slasor

I asked my boyfriend what he knew about Rosa Parks, to which he replied, “she refused to give up her seat on a bus to a white guy, right?”

While he is not wrong, his response got me thinking, why is this all he knows? Why is this all I know? Is this obliviousness a product of my own ignorance, or is something larger at play? I decided to dig deeper.

The involvement of female activists, specifically Black women, during the civil rights movement has been historically distorted and simplified. Important figures tend to be remembered for singular aspects of their extensive contributions, while male activists are promoted as representatives of the movement and, in turn, are studied in greater depth. Historical studies often mention Black women, but fail to include details about their activism or political thought.[1] Rosa Parks, who is known for her role in the Montgomery bus boycott, and Coretta Scott King, who is typically remembered as the widow of Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. (MLK), have both made significant contributions to the movement that are seldom discussed. Both women are national icons, yet their lifelong efforts to achieve racial, economic and gender justice remain largely unknown.

The suppression of the voices and legacies of Black women in the civil rights movement is largely a result of the intersection of racism, sexism, and classism, as well as the nature of scholarship and the way history is digested. Women activists, having taken on the title of “invisible unsung heroes and leaders,” are often ignored by academia, as the history of the movement tends to focus on men as leaders while feminist scholarship tends to focus heavily on white women.[2] This essay will highlight the extensive accomplishments of Rosa Parks, Coretta Scott King, and Ella Baker, and will then explore the factors contributing to the suppression of their legacies and how the issue can be resolved.

Portrait of Rosa Park at Mrs. Anne Braden’s home, May 31, 1960.[3]

Rosa Parks is best known for her role in the Montgomery bus boycott, in which she denied a bus driver’s orders to give up her seat for white passengers. It was not that moment that initiated her fight for justice, but instead her entire life that had been leading up to it. Parks’ passion and love of learning was instilled in her by her mother and grandfather, whose examples Parks followed in dedicating her life to racial justice.[4] Before the bus boycott, Parks was elected secretary for the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) and founded the Montgomery NAACP Youth Council, where she worked with the community and encouraged voter registration.[5] Parks led training sessions on desegregation following the Brown v. Board of Education decision, advocating against racial and sexual violence both nationally and throughout Alabama.[6] Following the boycott, Parks relocated to Detroit and pushed for Black freedom, helped elect John Conyers, a Democratic Michigan Congressman, in 1964, for whom she worked until her retirement in 1988.[7] In the 1980s, she co-founded the Raymond and Rosa Parks Institute for Self-Development to bring young people into the freedom movement. Parks, often described as quiet and meek, dedicated over sixty years of protest to the fight for justice.

Coretta Scott King at the Vietnam-In-Peace Rally, Central Park, New York, April 27, 1968.[8]

Of everyone I asked, those who actually knew of Coretta Scott King knew her as the wife of MLK. As it turns out, when Coretta Scott King met MLK in the 1950s, she was the political activist and influenced his decision to become involved. Like Parks, King claimed more than 50 years of activism before her death in 2006. During her career, she was a member of both Women Strike of Peace and the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom; led a campaign in support of school desegregation; met with Reagan to urge American divestment in South Africa and was later arrested during her protest at the South African Embassy in Washington; brought attention to Black poverty and the HIV-AIDS crisis; and worked to end discrimination against LGBT communities.[9]

From 1968 onward, King led the Martin Luther King Jr. Center for Nonviolent Social Change, in which her husband’s papers were archived and educational community projects took place.[10] King spearheaded lobbying campaigns to recognize her husband’s birthday as a national holiday, and later lobbied for the passage of the Humphrey-Hawkins Full Employment Bill that promoted full employment and fair compensation to combat rising poverty levels. In the last two decades of her activism, King served on the boards of the Black Leadership Forum, the National Black Coalition for Voter Participation, and the Black Leadership Roundtable, and was present at the signing of the Middle East Peace Accords and South Africa’s first free elections in the 1990s.[11] King was not simply the wife of MLK. Her activism was present from early stages of her life, and she used her platform to make extensive contributions to social change, the fight for freedom, and racial and economic equality. In doing so, King kept her husband’s legacy alive, and established herself as an unstoppable force in the fight for justice.

Ella Baker on September 18, 1941.[12]

Ella Baker is another name I admittedly had never heard. In the 1930s, Baker addressed the stigmas of gender, race, and poverty in her exposé, “The Black Slave Market.” In 1940, she was hired by the NAACP to organize branches throughout the South, and by 1945, Baker had helped the NAACP grow from 50,000 to over 450,000 members.[13] By 1958, she was the President of their New York branch.[14] Baker partook in leadership conferences throughout the 1940s, and in 1957, became the executive secretary of MLK’s Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), though she never obtained a leadership role. Baker disapproved of the SCLC’s male-dominated hierarchy, and of its centralized structure around MLK as a singular charismatic leader, as she felt that “group-centred leadership” would have been more effective than a “leader-centred group.”[15]

During the sit-in movement of the 1960s, Baker brought together student demonstrators to form the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), which became known as the “shock troops” of the civil rights movement.[16] Through the SNCC, Baker created a “classroom without walls,” in which she educated young proteges and organized protests with the aims of non-violent action and voter registration.[17] Though the SNCC disbanded in 1972, its leaders continued to work toward Baker’s ideals with different organizations, and Baker joined the African liberation movement and fought for civil and human rights in her final years.[18]

Black Women: The Backbone of the Civil Rights Movement from medium.com.[19]

These women, among countless others, have incredible stories that go largely untold. The fact that these women are not the primary faces of the movement and their accomplishments go unrecognized at the surface-level of academia is the product of the three interlocking systems of oppression: racism, sexism, and classism. During the civil rights movement, societal attitudes toward Black women suppressed their voices. Today, social movement scholarship’s focus on men and elites as leaders, along with feminist scholarship’s focus on white women ignores the accomplishments of Black women in history.

Attitudes toward Black female activists, in the rare instances that they are actually studied, have been historically negative. Under the patriarchy, many looked to males for leadership, which, at the time, largely stemmed from religious traditions of having a male leader.[20] This was evident in the experience of Ella Baker, who was never given a permanent position in SCLC nor a salary comparable to any man who replaced her.[21] Many organizations, such as the Black Panther Party, maintained a male-heavy image, as their intention was to appeal to the “brothers on the block.”[22] While this attracted members, it shut out many female activists who struggled to be heard.

This male-dominated arena is perpetuated by historical scholarship, which tends to focus on formal organization and membership and ignores women’s radical protest and activism. As a result, history commemorates formal leaders and overlooks women, as leadership positions were often unattainable for women activists. Women of colour are frequently viewed as uninvolved in feminist organizations, and therefore unconcerned with women’s rights.[23] This was not the case, as pointed out by historian Gerda Lerner, who remarked that women’s liberation meant different things to different women during the mid-20th century, and emphasized that while the mainstream societal ideology of women’s primary place was in the home, Black women’s place was in the white woman’s kitchen.[24] Liberation was different for Black women than for Black men, and the repression of many women’s voices during the civil rights movement is reflected in the way scholarship digests history.

According to historian Bernice McNair Barnett, there are three major biases that influence the way that Black women’s history is construed: (1) Black women are stereotypically connected with “pathologies” within the family, such as female-headedness, illegitimacy, teen pregnancy, poverty, and welfarism; (2) there is a middle-class orientation that ignores poor and working-class women, a large percentage of whom are Black; and (3) there is an apolitical, non-leadership image of Black and poor women as political passivists as opposed to movement leaders.[25] In turn, the roles of Black women have been ignored in research of modern social movements. As such, it is generally assumed that the women involved were white, and the men were Black.[26] While the “great man” theory of leadership is often critiqued by sociologists, this perspective is perpetuated by history, as the leaders were predominantly male, and history loves leaders.

One of the foremost exceptions is Rosa Parks. Parks’ story is included with that of Malcolm X and MLK in history classes, but, in actuality, students only know of her for one event, despite the rest of her activist career being of equal importance. Along with Parks’ lifelong activism, history often fails to mention Jo Ann Gibson Robinson, Alabama State College English professor and president of the Montgomery Women’s Political Council, where Robinson had been actively planning a boycott of city buses months prior to Parks’ arrest.[27] History also ignores the hundreds of women, like Robinson, who were forced to resign from their positions at Alabama State University and other workplaces across the United States for making noise about equality.[28] Society has excluded, ignored, and oppressed Black women; and historical scholarship is no different.

The civil rights movement, though perceived to be led by men, was heavily bolstered by Black women. Though not typically recognized as leaders, Black women initiated protests, formulated strategies, and mobilized other resources necessary for collective action. Racism, sexism, and classism created an environment in which women were silenced, and, as a result, frequently go unnoticed in historical scholarship. Rosa Parks, largely known for her actions on one day in her sixty years of activism, Coretta Scott King for her marital status, Ella Baker for her association with the NAACP, and countless others are the unsung heroes of the civil rights movement. It is imperative that we recognize their accomplishments to cease history’s glorification of male leaders when Black women were integral to the success and legacy of the movement, and look past what history wants us to believe.

All sources cited in this essay are written by women.

_____

Notes

[1] Dayo F. Gore, Radicalism at the Crossroads: African American Women Activists in the Cold War, New York; London: NYU Press (2011): 161.

[2] Bernice McNair Barnett, “Invisible Southern Black Women Leaders in the Civil Rights Movement: The Triple Constraints of Gender, Race, and Class,” Gender and Society 7, no. 2 (1993): 163; Ibid, 164.

[3] Portrait of Rosa Parks at Mrs. Anne Braden’s home, May 31, 1960. Photograph. 3.5 x 5 inches. Louisville, Kentucky. Highlander Research and Education Center: Highlander Research and Education Center Records, 1917-2005.

[4] “Rosa Parks Interview, 1992 February,” Connie Martinson.

[5] Ibid.

[6] Ibid; Christina Greene, “Women in the Civil Rights and Black Power Movements,” Oxford University Press (November 2016): 3.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Coretta Scott King at the Peace-In-Vietnam Rally, Central Park, New York, April 27, 1968, photograph.

[9] “Women in the Civil Rights and Black Power Movements,” 3; Vicki Crawford, “Coretta Scott King and the Struggle for Civil and Human Rights: An Enduring Legacy,” The Journal of African American History (January 1, 2007): 112.

[10] Ibid, 114.

[11] Ibid, 116.

[12] Ella Baker on Sept. 18, 1941. Photograph. Afro Newspaper/Gado/Getty Images, from Time Magazine.

[13] “Women in the Civil Rights and Black Power Movements,” 5.

[14] Anne Romaine, “Anne Romaine Interviews, 1966-1967: February 1967; SCEF Office, New York; Ella Baker Interviewed by Anne Romaine,” 11.

[15] Britta Waldschmidt-Nelson, “Ella Baker: A Leader Behind the Scenes,” FOCUS: Joint Center for Political and Economic Studies (August 1993):4.

[16] “Women in the Civil Rights and Black Power Movements,” 5.

[17] Barbara Ransby, Ella Baker and the Black Freedom Movement: A Radical Democratic Vision. Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press (2003): 284; “Anne Romaine Interviews, 1966-1967: February 1967; SCEF Office, New York; Ella Baker Interviewed by Anne Romaine,” 12.

[18] “Ella Baker: A Leader Behind the Scenes,” 5.

[19] Black Women: The Backbone of the Civil Rights Movement. Photograph.

[20]  “Invisible Southern Black Women Leaders in the Civil Rights Movement: The Triple Constraints of Gender, Race, and Class,” 175.

[21] Ibid, 176.

[22] “Women in the Civil Rights and Black Power Movements,” 9.

[23] “Invisible Southern Black Women Leaders in the Civil Rights Movement: The Triple Constraints of Gender, Race, and Class,” 164.

[24] Ibid.

[25] Ibid.

[26] Ibid, 165.

[27] Allison Berg, “Trauma and Testimony in Black Women’s Civil Rights Memoirs: The Montgomery Bus Boycott and the Women Who Started It, Warriors Don’t Cry, and From the Mississippi Delta,” Journal of Women’s History (2009): 89.

[28] “Invisible Southern Black Women Leaders in the Civil Rights Movement: The Triple Constraints of Gender, Race, and Class,” 174.

Bibliography

Primary Sources

Baker, Ella. “Interview with Ella Baker, April 19, 1977.” Interview by Sue Thrasher. Documenting the American South, n.d. Retrieved from https://docsouth.unc.edu/sohp/G-0008/G-0008.html

Black Women: The Backbone of the Civil Rights Movement. Photograph. Retrieved from https://medium.com/@nadiarising411/black-women-the-backbone-of-the-civil-rights-movement-618b9859a5c

Coretta Scott King at the Peace-In-Vietnam Rally, Central Park, New York, April 27, 1968, photograph. Retrieved from https://www.cnn.com/2013/08/23/us/coretta-scott-king-fast-facts/index.html

Ella Baker on Sept. 18, 1941. Photograph. Afro Newspaper/Gado/Getty Images, from Time Magazine. Retrieved from https://time.com/4633460/mlk-day-ella-baker/

Parks, Rosa. “Rosa Parks Interview, 1992 February.” Interview by Connie Martinson. The Drucker Institute, February 1992. Retrieved from https://dp.la/item/81d0ae423e14a2f67d20fdb34b3b0cc3

Portrait of Rosa Parks at Mrs. Anne Braden’s home, May 31, 1960. Photograph. 3.5 x 5 inches. Louisville, Kentucky. Highlander Research and Education Center: Highlander Research and Education Center Records, 1917-2005. Retrieved from https://www.wisconsinhistory.org/Records/Image/IM52893

Romaine, Anne. “Anne Romaine Interviews, 1966-1967: February 1967; SCEF Office, New York; Ella Baker Interviewed by Anne Romaine.” Recollection Wisconsin, Wisconsin Historical Society, 1960-1968. Retrieved from https://dp.la/item/5493d0d6be916f0b12a9cc57534d3906

Waldschmidt-Nelson, Britta. “Ella Baker: A Leader Behind the Scenes.” FOCUS: Joint Center for Political and Economic Studies, August 1993.

Secondary Sources

Berg, Allison. 2009. “Trauma and Testimony in Black Women’s Civil Rights Memoirs: The Montgomery Bus Boycott and the Women Who Started It, Warriors Don’t Cry, and From the Mississippi Delta.” Journal of Women’s History21 (3): 84-107.

Crawford, Vicki. “Coretta Scott King and the Struggle for Civil and Human Rights: An Enduring Legacy.” The Journal of African American History 92, no. 1. January 1, 2007.

Gore, Dayo F. Radicalism at the Crossroads: African American Women Activists in the Cold War. New York; London: NYU Press, 2011.

Greene, Christina. “Women in the Civil Rights and Black Power Movements.” Oxford University Press: Oxford Research Encyclopedia, American History, November 2016.  

McNair Barnett, Bernice. “Invisible Southern Black Women Leaders in the Civil Rights Movement: The Triple Constraints of Gender, Race, and Class.” Gender and Society 7, no. 2 (1993): 162-181.

Ransby, Barbara. Ella Baker and the Black Freedom Movement: A Radical Democratic Vision. Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2003.