Laverne’s latest interview is maybe one of the most important things I’ve ever read, especially this part, because reading Laverne Cox saying the exact same thing, almost verbatim, as I was only a couple months ago doesn’t necessarily validate my identity but it makes me feel less shameful about denying and compromising myself for such a long time. There’s a brief mention of her own past internalized transphobia and I just feel so grateful to have someone so honest about their trans experience. She reminds me there’s no perfect way to be transgender and my own experience is valid
As a quick explanation I mean i keep seeing posts that mention a bunch of (usually arab tbh) countries in what seems to be like a dua and they always say something like “AND the forgotten people of Somalia” do you know how insulting that is???
They have not been “forgotten” at all. As a Somali i’m constantly aware of what’s happening as are many others so just admit the only reason they’re “forgotten” in your world is because you choose to ignore them. I feel like somalis are remembered by the muslim community in general only when they want eg: Ramadan when people are more focused on charity and they want something to feel good about. When they want to pretend this ummah is really a thing that happily exists . You know it’s that time of year when people want to use a poor Somali child on their charity adverts or something?? How hurtful.
I’m not saying one problem is more important than the other. I’m saying the concern shown for somalis is very little and when it is , it feels very inauthentic. i’m sick of people using some very real and constant pain this way. Things constantly happen in somalia and no one gives attention to it , i feel like we (and when i say we tbh i mean black muslims in general) are expected to constantly show solidarity with other peoples struggles and are never shown any kind of solidarity or care back (This is a whole other big discussion in itself tho)
Like at the end of the day don’t mention my country as some little afterthought to soothe your guilty conscious because you know truly , you dont care
there’s a lot more to it but like that’s generally the start of my issues idk i typed this really quickly i hope it makes sense lol
Whitewash explores the African-American experience and race in surfing. It touches on some pertinent issues about how the history of surfing was detached from it’s indigenous Hawaiian origins and largely regarded as having it’s founding or “discovery” with European settlers. It also focuses on the issues of segregation and racism at beaches in California and of how the belief that “black people can’t swim” was passed down from generation to generation.
I’m so glad this documentary exists. There is also great evidence of sea culture in West Africa which after the slave trade forced the people to move inland. Surfing has never been a white-trait.
Poet: Katie Byford
it’s me! it’s me!
When I met you for the first time you were 13 seats down, 5 rows back.
I found you before you looked my way. You were smaller than I had imagined, fraying at the edges and mouse-like in your movements. A nervous wreck.
I wondered if everyone had a day they discovered their father was not a pillar. Bold and undeniable. Discovered that their father was shy and short and had discoloured skin. I wondered how a man like this held power over Hooyo, who spoke only in long sentences full of scorpion sting lip smacks. I was tired of you before you said a word and I felt like shit for it. This is not how a daughter should feel when God brings her dad back to her.
"Are you not happy?"
"Is this not what you wanted?"
"He has made a long journey, hug him"
So many words falling out of unfamiliar mouths. I was not happy, it was not what I wanted and I didn’t give a fuck about your journey. But still, daughters do what daughters must and I made myself small so you could be great. While I was waiting for you I imagined a man who smelled of Mango and tenderness - who told me I looked like him and handed smiles away with every blink of an eye (a trait the family said we shared) instead, I could smell benson and hedges gold and felt that you were giving eye-contact to everyone in the station but me. You called me Ifrah. Said something about how all the Ifrah’s you knew as a kid were crazy and quietly hoped I didn’t turn out like them. Maybe that’s why I held my documents so close to heart, Hibaq A Osman pronounced the english way, printed on HRH burgundy. A reminder that soon I would be home where nobody knew I had a dad and two names.
Mum still says: You may not care but one day he will die and all the care will come flowing out of you. You will not be able to stop it. You will be sorry and sad. Sad like I am sad. Sorry though you have nothing to be sorry for. Don’t you know I haven’t seen my parents in twenty years? They didn’t even raise me. We raised ourselves. We always raise ourselves.
I think about how years after mum, you married a woman in Holland. How just a few years after that you left the wife-after-mum to be with a woman in Norway. I think about your newborn Muna, whether you will leave her mum as well. Another woman scarred and scattered.
What will that child do when she learns she must raise herself?
people not from london obsess over london sounds
way more than actual londoners
they try too hard
so most ‘dub/uk/bass nonsense is usually swag
when its made by tom from bath
justin timberlake aint a good dancer..he counts his steps like raatid mathematician
it isn’t natural to him
and it translates
or whatever he is called
can’t ever nail what he’s trying
because its assimilated