This needs to stop
We need to change a lot of things and we can do that if is see each other as human being, and drop all the religious nonsenses that makes us look at other with less than respect
White supremacy is one hell of a drug. But couple white supremacy and patriarchy and you enter the world of a black woman. The effects of structural racism are covered extensively; from institutions who kill black people that they’re meant to protect and serve to black people being rejected from work.
Misogyny, a product of patriarchal culture, is the reason black women are erased out when names of black victims of police brutality are listed. Not too long ago a protest was held in San Francisco to name the women, trans and cis, who have died by the hands of police. The protesters stood topless, with names and messages written on their chest. What happened next on social media? Onslaught. Name calling, from whore to slut to black bitches. People decided to disregard the message behind the protest and focus on the fact that they stood topless.
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History that need to be remembered
The Eiffel Tower Viewed From Pont Alexandre III Bridge
A Magical Realist Fable
From the moment I saw the notice that Woody Allen had written and directed a movie set in Paris, in which the central character was captivated by the artistic history of the “City of Lights,” I knew it was going to be a fascinating journey. With America’s most consistently intelligent, inventive and uniquely visionary filmmaker exploring my second favorite city – New York is in first place – I figured it was a can’t miss proposition.
I was not, as it turns out, altogether accurate in my expectations. Still, the film has many notable achievements. Since I have long felt that Woody Allen’s work has more in common with the European art film – ala Luis Buniel’s “Discreet Charm Of the Bourgeoisie,” Lina Wurtmueler’s “Swept Away,” the films of Frederico Fellini, etc. – he seemed…
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Sitting in the passenger seat next to my father as we drive into our new neighborhood, I heard, “Stay in your lane, NIGGERRRRR!” and looked over to see a lanky white guy in denim overalls sticking his head out the car window and glaring at my father. “NIGGERRRR!” The word bounced in my head and with each thud of it, my mind cringed. My father had shaken his head and chuckled. (An African-American person is more likely to have had a more expressive reaction that my father did. The word is more sensitive to African-Americans.) My dad would probably still chuckle today if someone were to call him a nigger. They reminded President Barack Obama during his 2008 campaign trail. Said he wasn’t a “real American,” called him a straight up nigger in some places. Please…
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powerful and true description of inhumanities
For her exhibition “Archival Impulse & Poverty Pornography”, Ayana V Jackson turns to the archives to touch on the representation of black bodies.
The flyers pasted around the cobbled streets of London beckoned passers-by to witness the “greatest phenomenon ever exhibited in this country”. Intrigued by the invitation and the word on the streets, curious Londoners flocked to the show to see what had just arrived in town. With bated breath and the two-shilling entry fee in hand, they arrived at Number 225 Piccadilly, to cast their eyes on the “Hottentot Venus”.
It was on such a day in 1810 that Sarah “Saartjie” Baartman – dressed in skin-tight clothes to best exhibit her posterior and genitalia – was put on display like a captured animal. And it is this memory of…
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This is the inhumanity we must never allow them to forget, or we are doomed to repeat the subjugation.
As Ingrid Vãduvã prepares to keep her promise and return to Harrisburg Pennsylvania, on the first anniversary of Pamela Holland’s death, she hears again the dark autumn whisper.
The Hope Clinic is open and the good white Christians are moving once again toward racial cleansing. The stock market crash, bankruptcy looms, the city descends into chaos, tension’s rise, and protesters take to the street.
Ingrid discovers Pam’s younger sister Kelly in a hospital, in a coma, and in an attempt to save Kelly’s life, her life partner Elizabeth has made a deal with the devil. Trapped between old ideologies and new found enlightenment, Ingrid offers to help, but can she regain Liz’s trust before it’s too late, or will Kelly become the next victim of the Christian Pogrom?
There nothing to say but a world gone mad we hope the families can find some measure of peace
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