if u propagate this myth that queer people should know what they are from when they’re very young then STOP it’s actually really damaging and the fact people expect us to have a precise account of our feelings on our gender/sexuality so young is really bad
i didnt figure out my feelings on my gender for a long time because i repressed and then once i did figure them out i denied them for almost as long so yea
my mom has been a cop for over 20 years and she is the one who constantly warns me about police aggression and young male cops and told me that if you’re ever alone on a rural road and a cop throws their lights on to put on your four ways and drive to the next gas station before stopping because so many cops are scum and it’s not worth the chance of getting hurt. the fact that SHE feels the need to tell me this shit scares me to death
A boy sharing an umbrella with a deer
why do i love this so much
that’s some Miyazaki shit right there
in response to the comment above. someone tell me if I got the kanji right cause I dunno
A member of the Scottish National Antarctic Expedition plays the bagpipes for an indifferent penguin, 1904.
#the greatest caption in the history of the world
I love this image.
Gender: a visual guide.
When most people think of the gender spectrum, they think in terms of blue and pink, and maybe some purpley stuff. That model isn’t much of a spectrum and is rather a scale of femininity vs masculinity, when in reality gender is only sometimes on those terms, and is a huge, multi-dimensional concept that simply can’t fit on a single line. At this point, I would like to propose the term "gender sphere” rather than “gender spectrum” to emphasise its absolute complexity.
this is good yes
rlly tired of a sliding scale between two end points being used as a rejection of a binary
hmm, agreed. I am going to start using sphere.
Nelson Mandela, who led the emancipation of South Africa from white minority rule and served as his country’s first black president, becoming an international emblem of dignity and forbearance, died Thursday. He was 95.
The South African president, Jacob Zuma, announced Mr. Mandela’s death.
Mr. Mandela had long declared he wanted a quiet exit, but the time he spent in a Pretoria hospital in recent months was a clamor of quarreling family, hungry news media, spotlight-seeking politicians and a national outpouring of affection and loss. The vigil even eclipsed a recent visit by President Obama, who paid homage to Mr. Mandela but decided not to intrude on the privacy of a dying man he considered his hero.
Mr. Mandela will be buried, according to his wishes, in the village of Qunu, where he grew up. The exhumed remains of three of his children were reinterred there in early July under a court order, resolving a family squabble that had played out in the news media.
Mr. Mandela’s quest for freedom took him from the court of tribal royalty to the liberation underground to a prison rock quarry to the presidential suite of Africa’s richest country. And then, when his first term of office was up, unlike so many of the successful revolutionaries he regarded as kindred spirits, he declined a second term and cheerfully handed over power to an elected successor, the country still gnawed by crime, poverty, corruption and disease but a democracy, respected in the world and remarkably at peace.
The question most often asked about Mr. Mandela was how, after whites had systematically humiliated his people, tortured and murdered many of his friends, and cast him into prison for 27 years, he could be so evidently free of spite.
The government he formed when he finally won the chance was an improbable fusion of races and beliefs, including many of his former oppressors. When he became president, he invited one of his white wardens to the inauguration. Mr. Mandela overcame a personal mistrust bordering on loathing to share both power and a Nobel Peace Prize with the white president who preceded him, F. W. de Klerk.
And as president, from 1994 to 1999, he devoted much energy to moderating the bitterness of his black electorate and to reassuring whites against their fears of vengeance.
The explanation for his absence of rancor, at least in part, is that Mr. Mandela was that rarity among revolutionaries and moral dissidents: a capable statesman, comfortable with compromise and impatient with the doctrinaire.
When the question was put to Mr. Mandela in an interview for this obituary in 2007 — after such barbarous torment, how do you keep hatred in check? — his answer was almost dismissive: Hating clouds the mind. It gets in the way of strategy. Leaders cannot afford to hate.