Thank You!

Okay non-European tumblr, I’m gonna explain to you why ‘white’ isn’t as simple here as it is in the rest of the world

- Shades of white in Europe range from ‘freshly fallen snow’ to ‘I am frequently mistaken as being from the Middle East’

- White European is a thing. When you fill out a form, under ethnicity, there are several options for white; white British, white European, white other. Because people make that distinction

- There are Europeans who don’t class their ethnicity as their skin colour, but as their nationality. I have family who don’t think of themselves as white, they just think of themselves as Italian and don’t really give much thought to their skin colour

- People here in Britain always question if darker skinned white Europeans are ‘actually white’. I get it a lot myself. My response is always ‘well I’m not anything else, so obviously I must be’

- Despite being white, a lot of Europeans from Italy, Greece, Spain etc, don’t feel white in the traditional sense. We’re not white like white British people. We’re not white like white Americans. We’re our own white. White British is one thing. White Italian is another thing. White Greek is another, etc

- Which is why we have this notion here in Europe of ‘nationality over race’. Being white isn’t as important as where you’re from

- So this really only becomes an issue if you’re an immigrant

- So being white in Europe doesn’t save you from racial discrimination, because sure, you’re technically white, but you’re not white white. Not the right white

- Here in England, Europeans with really blatantly foreign names, such as myself, find it more difficult to get job interviews, because they take one look at our name and don’t bother reading the rest of the CV. A guy I know was actually told by his boss to reduce the pile of CVs he had by ‘chucking away any with a name you can’t fucking pronounce’

- And then even when you do get an interview, half the time you walk into the joint several shades darker than everyone else and feel like you’ve walked into the ‘Swedish supermodel’ clubhouse and you just know you’re not getting hired

This is all basic stuff and it’s very much taken for granted here. Race and ethnicity are not as clear cut, so it can be very confusing for non-Europeans to wrap their heads around. Which is fine. But I implore you to stay in your lane, because when you say things like ‘no white person anywhere in the world ever knows what it’s like to face racial discrimination’, it’s really fucking offensive to all of the European immigrants who are denied jobs, harassed by the police and beaten by racists, because foreign is foreign to these people, and they don’t give a shit if you’re technically white. So when you mean white American, say white American. 

The Industrial Revolution of the 1800s saw a boom in manufacturing and technological achievement. Products as diverse as car parts to cleaning supplies were being assembled, built, woven, or otherwise created on a scale never before seen. But this renaissance required workers - lots of them. In capitalist countries in the West, business tycoons made profit off of the cheap labor of thousands of men, women and children. Most of them worked up to 16 hours a day, in insanely dangerous conditions. But where there is oppression there is resistance, and in the 1880s, worker’s unions across the United States began to fight for their rights.   

Many members of the movement at this time were communists and anarchists, who believed that the capitalist system exploited members of the working class. They demonstrated for an 8-hour day, as well as better wages and working conditions. 

In 1886, in the first days of May, thousands of Chicago’s working class went on strike.  In Haymarket Square, a meeting of up to 3,000 radicals gathered to protest the conditions they worked in. When the Chicago police came to disperse the demonstrators, someone threw a bomb. At least 8 people died, and more than a hundred were wounded. 

Three years later, in commemoration of what was called the Haymarket affair, the International Socialist Conference declared May first an international holiday for the world’s workers. The Federation of Organized Trades and Labor Unions (now know as the American Federation of Labor) declared that “eight hours shall now constitute a legal day’s labor.” 

But the US no longer celebrates Labor Day on May first, or May Day. During the Cold War, May first became associated with the socialist and communist movements that it had been born from. President Eisenhower signed a resolution renaming May Day as ‘Loyalty Day’, a holiday dedicated to American patriotism. We now celebrate Labor Day on September second.   

But hey, in recognition of global celebrations and the industrious working class, here’s a shout out to May Day. Equality and vacation days for all! 

In the darkened corner of a spicy club, two people. Green skirts and navy tees. He ought to be focusing on his band members, the drums and claves and maracas and musicians with the music in their soul, pumping out a rhythm that sparks those high-up lights meant for Navidad. The noise will wake the neighbors’ kids, whose mother works long hours in a bustling sweatshop, the noise and voices holding no joy like the sunshine of the meringue band. She works hard for the children she has raised, and to keep them away from the fascination of her home in La Vibora.

The lights are bright and warm: not blinding, calm like a happy day. He can just avoid the spotlights shining on him and his friends, who practice long and play longer, drink and have fun and remember what their mothers taught them. The women on the block, the one’s too young to be raising a child or a husband, scoff and assume they will flirt. Uncertainty.

It is loud and hot and sexy, but no one feels threatened. It’s just fun, and those who know each other know. Xenophobia, like in the rest of the neighborhood, where all are foreigners in La Ciudad de Nueva York.

In the darkened corner of a spicy club, two people. He leans in, singing along to her. His cowbell sharp and sassy like the slips and flicks of her fingertips. She pays him no mind, her curls and lips and hips smiling for no one but herself. Dark chocolate shards and caramel brooks. Bubbly and laughing, taunting him. Caution, but intelligent humor.

Quick feet, flashing eyes. Wink, smirk, arched brow, blissful eyelids.

She is dancing fast beside him, her movements all her own. He will not contain her, and she will not indulge. The hard-working Mexican, her eyes bright as the muddy mangoes her father brings home to her, telling her the stories and memories of his childhood with the family’s orchards, lush before fire took them, and his family starting new and happy until fire took her, and left him with a daughter who is slipping away to a better future, that girl who is slender in a green dress, her long curls churning, her feet outpacing his self-esteem. Friendly, platonically, and he doesn’t take the blow.

Her voice clear, singing along to the rhythms, she won’t give him any satisfaction of hearing her voice compliment his cultures’ words, the sunshine of a music that others mistake for merengue, when Puerto Ricans have a culture all their own, and stereotypes are easy, especially for a young man who wanted more as a descendant of slavery, who felt trapped in a place like that, whose differences keep her wondering. Wondering like the histories of his skin that differs from the music that is like sunshine. Subtle in the darkened corner of a spicy club.

Sleeveless green like los flores, navy tee shining behind eyes like estrellas. Loving wisdom hidden by twinkling humor, shining down on simple happiness.

Xenophobia, racism, hostility, friendzone? Feminism, she dances.

The 49th Earth Day is today! This year’s theme is Protect Our Species, so here’s an essay about 3 of the most endangered species in the world.

#1: Pangolins These little guys are the best. They eat insects with tongues longer than their bodies, and roll up into little scaly balls when afraid. In Malay, the word ‘penggulung’ fittingly means ‘one that rolls up’. There are 8 different species of pangolin; four are native to east Asia, and four to Africa. Every species is labeled either ‘vulnerable’ or ‘endangered’. In Africa, pangolin scales are used to attract potential lovers, and as medicine in China and other parts of Asia. The meat is considered a delicacy. These beliefs have created a vast illicit trade network of pangolin parts; the creatures themselves are being captured, killed, and cooked almost to extinction. Mother pangolins wrap themselves around their babies to protect them. But greater steps must be taken to save these mammals.

#2: Coral Reefs Not gonna lie: for the longest time, I thought coral reefs were big rocks at the bottom of the ocean, with maybe a few plants here and there. Turns out, corals, ancient organisms that are related to sea anemones, are a vital part of our oceans. An individual coral is called a pylop. A pylop will grow a calcium-based exoskeleton; when a colony of thousands of pylops do this together, it forms a coral reef. Coral reefs exist all over the world, and are home to thousands of underwater species. Fish, algae, plants and invertebrates all feed and shelter on reefs. They protect coastlines and contribute billions to ecotourism and fishing industries. But these homes are dying out. As the earth warms, so do the oceans. Changes in temperature and pH levels kill pylop by the thousands, leaving entire ecosystems bleached and dead. This leaves millions of other organisms homeless and with little food. Without coral reefs, the oceans would never be the same. And since 75% of the earth is covered in water, I think we should be worried about that.

#3: Bees Can’t really emphasize this enough guys: we need bees to live. These insects live all over the world in diverse climates, from African deserts to the Arctic Circle, but their hives and habitats are under attack. Bees pollinate plants, which helps them grow. Pollinated plants go on to produce food, medicine, and other natural wonders we use everyday. And we’re not the only ones; birds, bears, and dozens of other species rely on the bees’ work. Our use of pesticides make bees and other creatures sick. Invading bees’ habitats  leave less space for hives and less plants for them to pollinate. Climate change is, as always, a threat. Without bees, there would be no us. Let’s freaking save the bees y’all.

What you can do:

Reach out to organizations working to protect these species. Donate, volunteer, or simply read up!

Make sure to buy produce that wasn’t grown with pesticides.

Plant some flowers… Adopt a hive…

Reduce your carbon footprint: save the ozone and the reefs!

Always practice the rules of sustainably: reduce, reuse, recycle.

Thanks for reading, everybody. Happy Earth Day!

Small Steps #3: Tea Edition

Here’s a few extra tips for your morning routine, if you’re a tea-drinking environmentalist like me:

Use a ceramic mug rather than a paper or styrofoam cup.

Rinse and reuse mugs, rather than sending them right to the dishwasher

Try to use tea bags that aren’t attached to string and paper. A little less material going into the trash.

Compost tea bags after use (not the string and paper - cut those off). Ripping the bag helps the decomposition process.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the smallest habits build a greater impact than we think. If we keep at them day after day, it adds up, the same way a short drive to the supermarket contributes to the amount of greenhouse gases in our atmosphere.

Some people look down on the environmentally friendly actions we can take, especially when they appear too small to matter. “You just want to feel like you’re doing something” - but I am. We tend to discredit small acts of conservation, because they don’t seem to make a dent. But such an assumption is dangerously arrogant. Each of us can do something, and we must.

So, today’s Valentine’s Day, and I asked myself, what do I want my fellow aromantic kids to know? 

I want them to know that there’s nothing wrong with who they are. They’ve been told that there’s only one way to love, but that’s a lie. So they don’t fit inside a box, a box of flowers and pink hearts and stuffed teddy bears? So what? They’ve got broader feelings in their hearts, feelings that don’t have to be limited, or cookie-cutter perfect, or as recognizable as holding hands. I want them to know that you don’t need to date someone to show them you care. You don’t need to date anyone, in fact: you can just love everyone equally, and that’s OK. We’re told that we need someone to be complete, but here’s a secret: we don’t need other people. We want people, maybe, but we don’t need them. Not in that way.   

I want them to know that their color is green. On the color wheel, green is the opposite of red; red is the color of romance, and we are aromantic.   

I want them to know that they aren’t ‘missing out.’ All forms of love are beautiful, vibrant, exquisite, and kind. They’re kind.   

I’m writing from the heart, guys, from this small green heart that didn’t feel whole until I realized there was nothing wrong with me. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m just a kid who wants to be me, to be free and love freely. Freely, in colors that aren’t just pink and red and ‘we’re an item’ colored. I want all of you to feel that same love; just shout it from the rooftops. You’re valid. You’re beautiful. I know it’s complicated, I know it’s not all clean edges and perfect form. But we’re gonna be okay. I just know it. We’re gonna be okay. 

Green hearts, everybody. Peace.

Should 16 year olds be allowed to vote?

Pros:

young ppl will have a voice earlier on

they’ll be empowered + encouraged to change their communities

the voices with the most knowledge about what people need will be elevated.

foster responsibility

Cons:

teens are too young to understand impact of their actions.

aren’t knowledgable or aware of political issues

too much pressure put on young shoulders.

those who are too immature could misrepresent people’s needs.

I say yes! More 16-year-olds than you would think, myself included, are ready and willing to make a difference. Some kids might be too immature for the vote, but frankly, so are some adults. We’re smart; we can handle it.  After all, we’ve only got a couple more years before adulthood comes along, so why not start preparing in the meantime? If we’re properly informed and coached by adults, we will make the right choices. Age doesn’t determine a person’s intelligence, maturity, or sense of responsibility. 

I really, really want to do something, something more than join a few clubs or run a blog. I want to help my community. I want to have an impact on the legislation that determines my future, to make the adults sitting indoors deciding my fate hear me. Adults don’t realize how much power they have - if I could vote.… man, you have no idea the things I’d make happen.

There’s something about a girl, some unspoken phenomenon. The unfathomable depth beneath words that makes you love her. Because all the gorgeous melancholy and unimaginable happiness makes her more than human. It makes you marvel at the wonders of creation. It is her resilience.