she/hers, mid-20’s, currently teaching high school history, returning to tumblr after realizing it’s the worst run major social media site and that makes it a liberated space
“i wish i could do something 😔 / i wish the wga had a kickstarter or a gofundme, i would throw money at it” good news! it’s amazing how you can literally go onto the wga strike website or the wgawest linktree from their twitter and find links to support writers and other workers affected by the strike
Transcript: Yesterday my cousin said that my rooster wasn’t a real rooster. He said he’s a Walmart rooster. *chicken noises* Does this not look like a real rooster to you? *chicken makes a sound again* Sure, he’s small, but he has feelings.
important context this person looks and sounds like they’re gonna cry
Whenever people are like “animals just know when you’re upset and they can comfort you/smell cancer” i’m like ..so can people. Also people are genuinely physic w eachother and I think we help eachother out in times of need without realizing it like we’re all eachothers guardian Angel in a way. That’s genuinely how I feel about humanity like there’s plenty of sneaky jealous weird ass people but there’s also so many people who want to help other people.
TIL a family in Georgia claimed to have passed down a song in an unknown language from the time of their enslavement; scientists identified the song as a genuine West African funeral song in the Mende language that had survived multiple transmissions from mother to daughter over multiple centuries (x)
In 1997 Amelia’s daughter, Mary Moran, and other members of the Moran family were invited to Sierra Leone, West Africa, where they were welcomed in Freetown by Sierra Leone’s President and then flown by helicopter to the country’s interior. There, in the small village of Senehun Ngola, Mary and Bendu Jabati met and sang this song together for the first time. Years earlier, Bendu’s grandmother had told her that this song, which had been passed down in her village from mother to daughter for centuries, would one day reunite her to long-lost relatives.
In addition to finding out where in Africa her ancestors were abducted into slavery, Mary Moran discovered the meaning of the Mende song: a processional hymn for the final farewell to the spirit, it was sung in Senehun Ngola by women as they prepared the body of a loved one for burial.
(The OP’s link leads to a site with a recording of the song sung by both Mary Moran and her mother, Amelia)
one of my cousins has one of those wretched sequined nicolas cage pillows and today the rest of us received this photo of perhaps the most upsetting thing i’ve seen all year, slugolas cage
crazy that in the 1970s they were like, “fine, women can play sports. but because they’re innately less athletic than men, only in a special ghettoized League For The Frail And Delicate where they get paid less 😊”. And not only is that still the system in 2023, but viciously lashing out at the smallest challenges to that system gets framed as Feminist Praxis
even setting aside the fact that gendered bodytype averages aren’t universals, and plenty of individual (cis) women and (cis) men could easily go to toe to toe. have we considered that the fact that all the most prominent and well-paid sports are ones that require things like Being Tall and Having Muscle Mass, as opposed to, ex, gymnastics…is itself an artifact of sexism
also to people who are like “well do you think WOMEN should be playing AMERICAN FOOTBALL against MEN” actually I don’t think anyone should be playing american football on account of, you know, the irreversible brain damage.
