Anonymous asked: what does "pinche gringo" mean?
it means “i love americans” in spanish
The brutal truth is that the bulk of white people in America never had any interest in educating black people, except as this could serve white purposes. It is not the black child’s language that is in question, it is not his language that is despised: It is his experience. A child cannot be taught by anyone who despises him, and a child cannot afford to be fooled. A child cannot be taught by anyone whose demand, essentially, is that the child repudiate his experience, and all that gives him sustenance, and enter a limbo in which he will no longer be black, and in which he knows that he can never become white. Black people have lost too many black children that way.James Baldwin, “If Black English Isn’t a Language, Then Tell Me, What Is?” THE NEW YORK TIMES (July 29, 1979)
Don’t ever mistake my silence for ignorance, my calmness for acceptance, or my kindness for weakness.Anonymous (via fuckinq)
Pier Kids: The Life is a documentary film about the Black street culture which thrives on Christopher Street and its piers
At the age of sixteen, I was pushed out of my mother’s home because of my sexual orientation and was subsequently forced to live on the streets of New York. I was lucky though. On my first night, I happened upon a group of black gay men and I followed them to the piers at the edge of the West Village. Little did I know that I had found my spiritual home.
Today, white upper-class families make the West Village their home; but as day turns to night, Christopher Street and its adjacent piers also become home to a transient yet vibrant street community known as the Pier Kids. Forming a significant yet invisible network, the Pier Kids are a queer and transgender community of predominately Black and Latino descent representing nearly four thousand of New York City’s sixteen thousand registered homeless youth. Left to wander and with few economic opportunities, the lives of these social refugees are beset with limited and harrowing options as money and food are everyday struggles. Through it all – or, perhaps, because of it all – hope still exists in the shadows of their neglect and abandonment.
Pier Kids: The Life follows the stories of three young people:
DeSean has been homeless for the past four years but considers the piers his “playground, office, [and] living room”;
Krystal arrived in the West Village after she spent years searching for a place she could finally be herself—a beautiful black transgender woman;
and Casper made Christopher Street his home away from home and in doing so found a safe haven away from the homophobic glare of his black community’s scornful gaze.
Together, these three people weave a surprisingly complex story of love, family, exploitation, and hope. But it’s more than the story of three. It’s the story of thousands.
The creators of Pier Kids canceled their original fundraiser after they only raised around $1000 of their $30,000 goal. I know why most of you aren’t paying attention to this: it’s a movie about queer and trans people of color, most of whom are homeless, but this only got 100 notes in almost a year.
Seriously. What the fuck? Does it really take a bunch of mainstream people and sites to pick this up before you pay attention? Why can’t something like this, made by us about us, get more attention from us??
It’s a shame that it took this much effort, but fortunately the campaign proved successful the second time around.
This time Pier Kids raised $43,050 from 751 ‘backers’.
Since the Stonewall Riots, the West Village has gone through rapid gentrification. What was once a gay safe haven is now a mainly white and wealthy neighborhood, where police are determined to harass and arrest the undesirables: the poor queers of color.
It’s important to emphasize the fact that the poor queers of color are the specific targets of the local police, while the upper class homo’s enjoy the privilege of living in a wealthy gay neighborhood.
Although the neighborhood is still queer-friendly, the pleasantness only extends to the white, wealthy and cisgender.
This documentary seems to highlight the divide between the queer-POC street life and the upper class residents of the Village.
With 40 percent of homeless youth identifying as lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender (LGBT), projects such as “Pier Kids: The Life” are crucial to having these stories told and documented.
*cuddles up close to you* *puts my mouth by your ear* I NEED CONSTANT REASSURANCE THAT YOU STILL ENJOY ME AND FIND OUR RELATIONSHIP APPEALING
THIS IS ME
Nobody scares me more than drunk white men in numbers.
maybe i’m a goddamn bleeding heart hippie liberal but i’m totally down with paying an extra .50 cents for a thing of fries if the person who makes me those fries doesn’t have to work 3 jobs just to survive.
Silence is also conversation.Sri Ramana Maharshi (via riseabovethemadness)
Sex is not a goddamn performance.
Sex should feel as natural as drinking water.
It should not require confidence.
Sex should happen, because the moment is ripe.
Ripening lips, ripening labia, ripening cock, ripening pupils, ripening state of being. Ripe and augmented and brimming. Your energy goes to your pumping heart, then to every external nerve, then to theirs, on fire.
You bask, roll, play in it. You sigh, moan, laugh.
It’s not about being “good in bed.”
It’s about being happy.
One should never worry if they’re doing it “correctly.” Sex is not factual. I don’t want your cookie-cutter sex, I don’t want your meticulously crafted, calculated, fool-proof fuck. I don’t want a show. I want you. Let your instincts, urges and whims define that. It’s enough.
What do most girls like? Forget about it. Statistics are meaningless when there’s only one. Hello, here’s me. Here’s you.
Don’t worry about taking it too slow. We got time. We got infinite rhythms, combinations, possibilities. Explore each fuck. Take our time. We can do a different one later.
Don’t worry about making me come. I’m here. Right where I want to be.
I am overwhelmed by wanting; you don’t have to convince me. I want you because I like you. So don’t put on a front. Don’t taint this.
I’m frustrated—it’s just authenticity I want.
Don’t say that something I like is ugly. Don’t compare yourself to the rest. You will live and die with and within your experiences like everyone else. If someone thinks you are amazing, they are not wrong. Their universe is as real as any other; it is forged through perception.
I don’t care if you accidentally slammed my head into the wall, if you slipped out, if my arm cracked, if the delightful pressure of your wet lips on my anything made a silly sound. There is no right way and no wrong way.
“Good in bed,” what.
You’re good in my bed. I’m pleased you’re there. I feel it suits you.
Shove your technique. Let your memory swallow it. Fuck me like you’d fuck me, fuck me like you feel.
This isn’t a test.