This young man of color should not have been murdered because he was well-behaved = women should be respected because your mothers and sisters and daughters are women = children should be treated well because they are the future leaders/workers of society
P.S. A lot of people with depression and other mental illnesses have trouble making decisions or choosing from a bunch of different options. “Wanna get dinner at that pizza place on Tuesday night?” is a LOT easier to answer than “So wanna hang out sometime? What do you want to do?”
“The “feminine” woman is forever static and childlike. She is like the ballerina in an old-fashioned music box, her unchanging features tiny and girlish, her voice tinkly, her body stuck on a pin, rotating in a spiral that will never grow.”
— Susan Faludi, Backlash
If this wasn’t intentional, I am going to be pissed.
INCREDIBLE. ATTN: onlyannie
Screen shot from a New York Times article.
When I was 18, I was no angel. Hell, when I was 15, 16, 17, I was no angel. When I was 13, I stole change out of cars that were parked in the church lot for bingo night. By 14 I was smoking pot every day. I got caught shoplifting at Korvette’s and spent an hour being interrogated by security before they called my mother to pick me up. I cut holes in the pockets of my winter parka to make it easier to steal candy from 7-11. I sold joints to my fellow classmates at Holy Trinity High School. I had rough patches. I cut out of school to drink alcohol. I listened to angry and vulgar punk rock. I often got into fights with kids from the neighboring town.
So all those times when Officer Goldberg stopped me as I walking down the street and asked where I was going and what I was doing, he would be justified in shooting me because I was a troubled kid with a questionable past?
See, all those things were not relevant. Because Officer Goldberg didn’t know any of those things about me beforehand. And even if he did, they had no relevance on the fact that I happened to be walking down the street on any given evening.
Someone’s history does not always define their present. Being a “troubled” kid who once climbed over a baby gate or wrote on the walls in their house with pencils does not mean one deserves to die in a hail of bullets at the hand of a police officer. And it’s odious for anyone to imply as such, especially in a major newspaper on the day of the dead boy’s funeral.
The media suddenly seems to be in bed with the Ferguson police, posthumously trying Michael Brown for the crime of being young and black while walking in the street, bringing his past into the present. Calling him “no angel” has big implications, none of them good.
We’re all “no angels” in one way or another. No one is perfect. No one has a past clear of any transgressions, even the smallest ones. No one should have to carry the burden of their past with them when they’re doing nothing more dangerous than walking down a street. Because Darren Wilson knew nothing about Michael Brown when he confronted him. When he killed him.
And we shouldn’t be learning these things about him now, like this. It’s unfair.
"2. She took off his shirt, his skin glistening in the sun like a glazed doughnut. The glaze part, not the doughnut part."
One time I got stuck on a plane on the Newark tarmac. I’d just taken an eight-hour flight from Berlin, boarded my flight to Austin, and then my fellow passengers and I began what would eventually be a three-hour-long wait for an available runway.
My vantage point for the entire three hours looked just like this, except the guy was texting so he had his elbows out too. It was hot and miserable and I was literally trapped in the foot-wide space between my lava-balls seatmate and the side of an airplane. I still don’t know how I kept myself from jumping out of my seat and running up and down the aisle screaming.
Masculinity is so fragile.
MAN CAVE STRONG! PROTECT FAMILY, DEPENDABLE FISHING!!!
COMPASSIONATE SPORTS!!!! ELECTRONIC FATHER