Am I myspace famous yet?
|NSFW/social commentary/fandom/etc. blog|

Hey, my name is Francis and I like warm hugs.

gohomeluhan:

As I’m walking through Target with my little sister, the kid somehow manages to convince me to take a trip down the doll aisle. I know the type - brands that preach diversity through displays of nine different variations of white and maybe a black girl if you’re lucky enough. What I instead found as soon as I turned into the aisle were these two boxes.

The girl on the left is Shola, an Afghani girl from Kabul with war-torn eyes. Her biography on the inside flap tells us that “her country has been at war since before she was born”, and all she has left of her family is her older sister. They’re part of a circus, the one source of light in their lives, and they read the Qur’an. She wears a hijab.

The girl on the right is Nahji, a ten-year-old Indian girl from Assam, where “young girls are forced to work and get married at a very early age”. Nahji is smart, admirable, extremely studious. She teaches her fellow girls to believe in themselves. In the left side of her nose, as tradition mandates, she has a piercing. On her right hand is a henna tattoo.

As a Pakistani girl growing up in post-9/11 America, this is so important to me. The closest thing we had to these back in my day were “customizable” American Girl dolls, who were very strictly white or black. My eyes are green, my hair was black, and my skin is brown, and I couldn’t find my reflection in any of those girls. Yet I settled, just like I settled for the terrorist jokes boys would throw at me, like I settled for the butchered pronunciations of names of mine and my friends’ countries. I settled for a white doll, who at least had my eyes if nothing else, and I named her Rabeea and loved her. But I still couldn’t completely connect to her.

My little sister, who had been the one to push me down the aisle in the first place, stopped to stare with me at the girls. And then the words, “Maybe they can be my American Girls,” slipped out of her mouth. This young girl, barely represented in today’s society, finally found a doll that looks like her, that wears the weird headscarf that her grandma does and still manages to look beautiful.

I turned the dolls’ boxes around and snapped a picture of the back of Nahji’s. There are more that I didn’t see in the store; a Belarusian, an Ethiopian, a Brazilian, a Laotian, a Native American, a Mexican. And more.

These are Hearts 4 Hearts dolls, and while they haven’t yet reached all parts of the world (I think they have yet to come out with an East Asian girl), they need all the support they can get so we can have a beautiful doll for every beautiful young girl, so we can give them what our generation never had.

Please don’t let this die. If you know a young girl, get her one. I know I’m buying Shola and Nahji for my little sister’s next birthday, because she needs a doll with beautiful brown skin like hers, a doll who wears a hijab like our older sister, a doll who wears real henna, not the blue shit white girls get at the beach.

The Hearts 4 Hearts girls are so important. Don’t overlook them. Don’t underestimate them. These can be the future if we let them.

You can read more about the dolls here: http://www.playmatestoys.com/brands/hearts-for-hearts-girls

4
sitcomfamily:

Michael seemed to have aged in reverse

That airbrush effect is so odd. Dwight has more wrinkles than him, and even he looks kind of weird.

sitcomfamily:

Michael seemed to have aged in reverse

That airbrush effect is so odd. Dwight has more wrinkles than him, and even he looks kind of weird.

xxxshakespearexxx:

The Empress of China 武则天 Wu Zetian

Fan Bing Bing 范冰冰 @ Aarif 李治廷

http://www.ancientchinese.net/index.php?topic=1129.0

ruthyless:

mental illness is fine and everyone is supportive until you actually start showing symptoms in which case “ur just being lazy” “ur just avoiding” “u’d be much better if u just picked urself up and did some work” “stop sleeping so much it’s making u worse” “but don’t stress urself out too much!!” “it’s not worth it!!!” 

38

mythicalcreeptures:

La Llorona (“The Weeping Woman”) is a widespread legend in North and South America.

Although several variations exist, the basic story tells of a beautiful woman by the name of Maria who drowns her children in order to be with the man that she loved. The man would not have her, which devastated her. She would not take no for an answer, so she drowned herself in a lake in Mexico City. Challenged at the gates of heaven as to the whereabouts of her children, she is not permitted to enter the afterlife until she has found them. Maria is forced to wander the Earth for all eternity, searching in vain for her drowned offspring, with her constant weeping giving her the name “La Llorona”. She is trapped in between the living world and the spirit world.

In some versions of this tale and legend, La Llorona will kidnap wandering children who resemble her missing children, or children who disobey their parents. People who claim to have seen her say she appears at night or in the late evenings from rivers or oceans in Mexico. Some believe that those who hear the wails of La Llorona are marked for death, similar to the Gaelic banshee legend. She is said to cry, “Ay, mis hijos!” which translates to, “Oh, my children!”

bureaubaggins:

dignified-and-old:

baruchobramowitz:

Behold the most disgustingly aggressive display of Americanness

I’m just picturing some dude sitting at the dinner table, his assault rifles propped up in the other chairs
"Can you pass the salad, Mom?" he asks the AK-47, but she doesn’t pass the salad
She never passes the salad

"Hey Mom, can you pass the salad?"




"You always do this to me, Mom."

bureaubaggins:

dignified-and-old:

baruchobramowitz:

Behold the most disgustingly aggressive display of Americanness

I’m just picturing some dude sitting at the dinner table, his assault rifles propped up in the other chairs

"Can you pass the salad, Mom?" he asks the AK-47, but she doesn’t pass the salad

She never passes the salad

"Hey Mom, can you pass the salad?"

"You always do this to me, Mom."

124

matt-ruins-feminisms-shit:

23claw:

myreasonswhyihatetmblralot:

gorgon-heart:

Thin privilege is being able to go to a party without being worried you’ll be asked to leave.

wat

image

"I’m sorry sir I’ll have to ask you to leave, you are simply too fat to be at a party." - Nobody

albinoninetales:

playing pokemon as a kidimage

playing pokemon as an adultimage

55

pixelatedcomplaints:

'why be cis when you can just be trans?'

bye.