Star Spangled Man Cover by MegBodoun
This is a cover inspired by the fic I linked a few days ago, A Partial Dictionary Of The 21st Century By Captain Steve Rogers, US Army. :) You can find the original posting of it here — please let Sanura know if you enjoyed it!
I think it’s absolutely lovely.
(Thanks Lightinstone for letting me know it was floating around on tumblr!)
Aw, remember when my thing got tumblr famous for a minute before I was on tumblr? Can’t believe this was a year ago.
BRINGIN’ IT BACK
I keep telling people that angels aren’t cute, fluffy beings, but are really scary as hell.
Maybe they’ll believe me now…
“We’ve been ‘cool’ for a very long time, and in that sense our culture has been taken for a very long time. How do we define when we’ve arrived? It’s not when a young, white girl in Berkley is wearing nice garlands or those nice buddhist beads, or wearing bindi. I don’t feel like my life in anyway has been improved because she has the ability to do that and thinks that’s okay. My life hasn’t improved. The life of my mother has not improved. Our voice as a community within this economic system has not improved.
A good friend of mine, she’s south Indian, and she grew up in Connecticut. Her mom would make her wear her bindi and go to school. She would get harassed by kids… she would be harassed so much that what she would do, is that because she was so ashamed to have that bindi on her head, she would leave her house, wipe it off… and then come home and put it back on.
To the point where a child would have to think about such a deliberate attempt to refute their own culture I think is pretty profound. If there’s a white girl wearing a bindi walking down central avenue in the heights, she’s not considered a dot head, even though she has a dot on her head.
For me, the feeling is disgust and anger. The way I look at it if I see it, I just get so mad because I think, how dare this person be able to wear that, or hold that, or put that statue in her house and not take any of the oppression for that. How dare they. That’s not fair. We have to take so much heat and repression for expressing ourselves.
I’m going to rip that thing off your head, and I’m going to scrub that mehndi off your hands, because you don’t have the right to wear it. Until the day when you walk in our shoes, and you face what we face… the pain, and the shame, and the hurt, and the fear, you don’t have the right to wear that. It is not your right, and you’re not worthy of it. I feel like it’s so superficial and it’s so disrespected. One day, wake up, be me, and then you’ll see how powerful what you’re wearing is. “
—Raahi Reddy, Yellow Apparel: When the Coolie Becomes Cool
Mixed kids are experts at crafting community.
We have to be, because of comments, attitudes, and beliefs like the ones expressed above. We know better than anyone else that you don’t have to be family to be kin, that you can’t always rely on your People to be your people.
Dual ethnic rejection means that you have no one.
White people aren’t my people for obvious reasons.
My cousin doesn’t think I’m a real human person. He has never “mistreated” me, but he has also never mistreated the cat.
Black people aren’t my people for obvious reasons.
Talmbout some “pure bred” shit.
My people are deviants.
I am too filthy for white people and too dilute for Blacks, so I get to go sit at the Mulatta table and watch both sides of my family alternatively not want me and then fight over me, fight for who gets to lay claim to my skin and my hair and my Other and who gets the honor of laying apart the cells of my flesh and the breath of my day to put me into one of two boxes and in the meantime letting words come out their mouths like they don’t think I been listening for nineteen years.
My people are deviants.
I live in a community of deviants and I feel the strain in my sinew as I stretch my arms to hold all those people together close to me, because I can never tell who is going to be my kin and who is going to brand me with that scarlet M —
My people are deviants.
My people deviate from one standard or another
My people are not identified by the color of their skin alone, but by the history of their blood and the stories in their fingerprints
My people too often are told they deviate from human
My people’s parents are too often told that they have sinned in the eyes of some God
My people are called living abortions
My people are called absolute abominations
My people shed their skin in the mirror
My people suffer dysphoria when they run their hands over their skin
My people breathe politics and eat it too
My people worry they are a disgrace to their parents
My people’s parents worry that they have failed their children
And underneath it all my people have no where to call home.
So true. We often get left out of any racial discussion. Because we’re not “this” enough, or “that” enough. We can’t claim a race, because someone is always there telling us that we’re wrong. Especially if you don’t look like one side or the other. Or if you’re mixed with more than two races.
That’s one thing my mom has always said, and she still says.
Almost every day, she would tell me that we don’t have anyone. That no one wants us. So I grew up knowing that, just like she did.
I still wish that I could just be one or the other. Either White or Japanese. Or that I at least looked like I was. So I could just call myself one or the other, without someone feeling like they need to correct me. So I could be a part of groups on one side or the other without feeling like I don’t belong in either because I’m mixed, so I’m not “___” enough.
Today I was feeling especially shitty about gender binary, and how it’s acceptable to be androgynous only if you’re young, thin and pretty. I hear people talking shit about old “men” who wear makeup and “look ridiculous”, and I feel like they’re talking about me because one day I’ll be old and wrinkly and maybe finally brave enough to wear whatever the fuck I want. So I doodled these to cheer myself up, as a kind of a “fuck you” to assholes and a “love you” to fellow genderqueer people. Let’s grow old together and be awesome. <3
Includes basic Tumblr tips, the most important XKit features, and cheat sheets. Did you know you can actually view replies and tags on posts without ever leaving your dash? Did you know you can @ reply someone? SHIT JUST GOT REAL.