My coworkers complain when we can’t assign homework over Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. As if somehow this interferes with their ability to teach their classes.
My coworkers complain that our Muslim students get to leave class to pray Salat at noon. Like, we have maybe one Muslim student every two or three years – thus far, all extraordinarily respectful and lovely kids! – and they slip quietly out of class to pray.
My coworkers find all this infuriating. “Imagine,” they cry, “If a Christian kid asked to do that.”
I calmly explain, every single time, that a Christian kid would never HAVE to do that, because every single Christian holy day is a day off school. Good Friday. Easter Sunday. Christmas day. Our entire country interrupts its financial and educational systems – schedules its WEEKS – around the Christian prayer customs and seasons.
God forbid we temporarily unclip the rope barrier and leave an opening for someone whose religious traditions vary from our own.
Heck, the only holy day we DON’T get off is Ash Wednesday, and that only involves a church service if you’re Catholic.
These heartbreaking and incredibly moving images show the affection and love shown during the height of the Aids crisis. Photographer Gideon Mendel’s project The Ward began in 1993 when he spent a number of weeks on the Charles Bell wards in London’s Middlesex Hospital. All the patients on the ward were dying with the knowledge that there was no cure for the disease. During this time antiretroviral medications were not available and patients on the ward faced the prospect of an early death.
As a pilot I am ashamed, this is disgusting and unethical. I can not BELIEVE that you would do such a sinful thing as to perform oral pleasure on a pilot, during flight, in the bathroom when the cockpit is RIGHT THERE. it’s literally a COCKpit. It’s IN THE NAME
hey, you! remember this picture? yeah, me too! it’s actually a pretty semi-famous work of art! neat, right. know who made it? probably not. well, i do, and in the spirit of pride month, i’m here to teach you about one of the most amazing gay photographers and artists to ever grace our world: david wojnarowicz.
david wojnarowicz was born in 1954 in new jersey, but lived most of his life in nyc. his mother and father split, then left him, leaving him bouncing between foster homes, homelessness, and abusive relationships until he graduated from the highschool of music and art.
around 1970, he became a quickly-rising star in the mixed-media community, being credited as a director, writer, photographer, videographer, painter, and general artist all at once in his later years, but starting as a simple gay artist who graffitied stencils of houses on fire on the side of buildings in the east village. goals, right?
later in life, he made a series of super-8 films, including heroin and beautiful people. he also began a photographic series known as arthur rimbaud in new york, on occasion depicting the famous poet in situations with a gay lover.
he became a critically acclaimed author of numerous successful books, almost all of which discussed his relationship to the troubled politics of the 1980s gay movement, in particular the AIDS crisis, and sometimes his troubled childhood.
on july 22, 1992, david wojnarowicz died in his home from AIDS, confirmed by his lover.
his critically acclaimed work, however, continues to serve as a rallying call for the lgbtpn youth of today, most notably his film a fire in my belly, a silent movie with shots about religion, poverty, and generally suffering.
in his memoir, close to the knives, he stated he wondered “what it would be like if, each time a lover, friend or stranger died of this disease, their friends, lovers or neighbors would take the dead body and drive with it in a car a hundred miles an hour to Washington DC and blast through the gates of the White House and come to a screeching halt before the entrance and dump their lifeless form on the front steps.
in 1996, david wojnarowicz’ ashes were scattered on the white house lawn, serving as a timeless reminder and memorial to one of the most influential photographers, artists, and writers of his time, and the system that failed him and thousands like him.
rest in power, david.
aids day is a great day to remember this hero who died
why do they always show cranberries in thos big pits n its implied its wet and possibly swimmable. do cranberries really grow like that. wh
You’ve never heard of The Bog?
th
the what
EACH ADDITION TO THIS POST MAKES MY BLOOD RUN COLD
This is a cranberry bog (unflooded) it’s how cranberries grow. Once they’re ripe, the blog is flooded and the cranberries harvested.
Basically by using big floaty things to round them all up and then scooping them out of the water.
thank u. i hate it a little less but the horrible little man in my head is still screaming “BOG BODY BOG BODY BOG BODY”, but i appreciate the education,
when my dad’s been an bitch he ‘apologizes’ by bringing me coffee in the morning, and i respond by letting it get cold & gross & accumulate for days. the most cups i’ve gotten in a row before he cleans them up is 4
i don’t like coffee
Also… i wasnt gonna interact with this post, but I looked at the notes (And the last tags Gaud put here) and… ya that’s not how you apologize. You apologize with words not by buying someone’s forgiveness with coffee. This is not an apology. It’s a guilt trip. It’s a “see you can’t be mad at me I do things for you”. this is the kind of behaviour that made me distrust my mother.
And to expend on the tags: I have parents who never actually paid attention to how my taste in things changed as I grew up. As a result they still tease/bully me over things I used to do as a kid. How I was picky as a kid and they never noticed when I started to actually eat a variety of things. I’m pretty sure they still think I don’t like sauce on my spaghetti or that I’ll only eat very specific cuts of meat, or that I still don’t eat broccoli. I’m pretty sure that they forgot that I told them that I’m queer and I litterally told them this summer. So ya… miss me with the “I’m sorry for your dad” shit.
Sorry gaud for highjacking your simple post. It just hit kinda close to home and seeing people try to make it seem like you’re being too petty really got to me.
all of this
I THOUGHT THIS WAS NORMAL??
I literally thought that parents always do this and that everyone just never talks about it…
Unfortunately a lot of parents do it, but it’s a form of emotional abuse and definitely shouldn’t be allowed to pass for normal. Parents make mistakes because they are people. But children are also people, and they deserve to have it acknowledged when they have been hurt or treated unfairly.
It is extremely important for adults to apologize to kids. Don’t let kids grow up thinking that this just how the world works.
Bring two cups of coffee. Sit down with your kid. Give them one. Down the other and apologize. Like an adult
^^^THAT LAST COMMENT
also know your kid well enough to know their tastes. some of us don’t like coffee, Dad
valar apologist 