Eat it

saharanprince69:

draumbouy:

saharanprince69:

it makes me really uncomfortable when white men call each other “brother”

It makes me uncomfortable when you think that calling someone brother is racially exclusive

last thing i want is a bunch of white dudes in a brotherhood. we’ve seen what happens when y’all get together and i’m not having it.

brainstatic:

Jumanji taught us that the scariest thing in the African jungle is the white guy with a gun.

Scariest thing in the whole damn world.

If you’re not black, you cannot:

thegirlwithcaramelskin:

  1. Say nigga
  2. Be a part of the natural hair movement.

diggly:

porcelain-horse-horselain:

“all girls are catty to each other” myth actualy just statistical error. average girl is nice to other girls. Regina Georg, who goes to high school & insults over 10,000 girls each day, is an outlier adn should not have been counted

I think we’ve found the best one

seisans:

traceexcalibur:

"who cares about representation in video games, video games are meant for escapism"

how exactly is it escapism to switch from a world where white cis men are in charge to…….. a world where white cis men are in charge

also what does that say about you when you want to “escape” to a world completely devoid of poc and women

"This is what it feels like to be black in America. It sounds like the symphony of locking car doors as I traipse through a grocery store parking lot, armed with kale chips and turkey bacon. It looks like smiling when I don’t feel like it. It’s the instinct to enunciate differently, to use acceptable methods of signaling that I am safe to engage, or at least to disregard. “We wear the mask that grins and lies,” wrote the poet Paul Laurence Dunbar. I feel that mask covering my soul, never allowing me to just freely exist.

I could argue that any negative reaction to my skin is a problem for others to grapple with and of no concern to me. I’ve tried that approach before; one memorable attempt ended with me being pulled out of my car by two police officers and handcuffed for the felonious infractions of having a blown headlight and insufficient self-abasement. It is an unspoken rule that blackness’ first and most important task is to make everyone feel safe from it. We ignore this mandate at our own peril, realizing that a simple misunderstanding is a life or death proposition.

Jonathan Ferrell ran towards police seeking help after a car accident and was given a hail of bullets for his troubles. Renisha McBride went in search of a Good Samaritan after her accident and a shotgun blast answered her knock. Teenager Trayvon Martin walked home with candy and tea and was greeted by the nervous trigger finger wrapped in an adult’s gun. Jordan Davis sat in a car outside a convenience store listening to music and a man who objected to the volume cut his life short with the boom of a firearm. The principal crime all of them committed, like countless others over the centuries, was being black and not sufficiently prostrating themselves to ensure the comfort of others.”
— Theodore R. Johnson, “Black History Month Isn’t Making Life Better for Black Americans” (via thisiswhitehistory)
"People of color, women, and gays — who now have greater access to the centers of influence that ever before — are under pressure to be well-behaved when talking about their struggles. There is an expectation that we can talk about sins but no one must be identified as a sinner: newspapers love to describe words or deeds as “racially charged” even in those cases when it would be more honest to say “racist”; we agree that there is rampant misogyny, but misogynists are nowhere to be found; homophobia is a problem but no one is homophobic. One cumulative effect of this policed language is that when someone dares to point out something as obvious as white privilege, it is seen as unduly provocative. Marginalized voices in America have fewer and fewer avenues to speak plainly about what they suffer; the effect of this enforced civility is that those voices are falsified or blocked entirely from the discourse.”
Teju Cole (via newwavefeminism)
©