When a black person states that something you did was racist, chill the fuck out. Its annoying dealing with you panicking trying to dissociate yourself from racism. If you're not black, black people already assume youve said nigga or its variant at least once in your life. If they're interacting with you and bringing something up, its because they want you to stop doing that so they can still interact with you(if ur already friends)
You WILL be racist. You WILL do racist things. You have ALREADY done both. Learn and move on. There's no ideological purity you can hold on to, i promise. Proving you can take the criticism without making it a big deal and practice what you preach is better than any clean slate.
Be the kind of person black people don't have to gamble on. Shut up and lock in
white t girl i love you. and also do not forget that you are not the modern martyr for the oppressed voice. that's still black girls. it's always been black girls. stories of black martyrdom simply don't make it into the news cycle until the unrest caused by its reporting can be packaged as a "riot" segment between traffic reports. i know you suffer, but whatever you're experiencing, i beg you, when interacting with your community and building nuanced understandings of each other and the system which binds us, to not forget that a black tgirl has felt it 100 times worse before positioning yourself as an authority on all systems of oppression for having suffered unjustly at all. because you have suffered unjustly, but suffering unjustly as a white person means something so much different.
serenely reblogging this once more after deleting responses from white people saying "talking about this is actually unhelpful because im oppressed too" yeah i know. i wrote that down in the post i made, and i also wrote down why remembering the difference is important. did you read it?
there is no malice in my reminder. no "you need to do better", just a reminder. do not read it as such. i didn't write it as such.
again. i did not say you were not oppressed. this post is literally about how you are oppressed. it is a reminder that you are not the most oppressed person in the world, a way i've seen a lot of white transfems acting lately. maybe not even necessarily in a detrimental way, but in a way that definitely leans towards the "white is default" lane of thinking, which erases black suffering, which erases progress towards black safety. this, to me, is troubling, which is why i made this post. it's important when building solidarity within our community to understand who the most vulnerable of us are, because the safety of the most vulnerable of us will ultimately be the safety of all of us.
please do not be offended when you are reminded that your skin is white. im not calling you evil. im asking you to remain aware of yourself.
Thing is that I’m not the only Black trans woman writing theory on transfeminism, Black transfeminism, or trans intersectionality - I’m just lightskinned and won’t shut up so I’m one of the most visible ones, and crackers STILL get mad at me for saying the most basic-ass concepts like “white people are still white even if they’re otherwise marginalized”
In many cases, intracommunity racial intersectionality fails because given the choice between solidarity with nonwhite trans people and white people (trans or cis), white trans people will almost always side with other whites in the hopes of preserving a degraded position within white supremacy, because they internally see being “lesser” within whites supremacy but still above nonwhites as preferable to solidarity with nonwhites that loses them that positionality.
I wanna toss this link on here because it’s directly related to the whole “lack of intracommunity solidarity when race is involved” thing and has a specific example from my local community.
💬 0 🔁 132 ❤️ 218 · 100% agreed, but I also want to bring up a similar concern specific to Black transfemmes: the intersection of gendered
I actually can't talk about racism in the lgbtq community on tiktok anymore because of queer crackers who are obsessed with screaming "not all white people" at me
The first photo is from 1956. It shows a Black woman watching members of the Ku Klux Klan (a terrorist, racist, far-right organization focused on white supremacy) walking along a sidewalk in Montgomery, Alabama (USA). I couldn't find the photo's author, but most sources state that it was taken in 1956.
The second photo shows members of the Patriot Front group (a white supremacist and nationalist group, formed in 2017, that openly advocates what they call "American Fascism") traveling on the subway during the 250th anniversary of the U.S. independence in Washington D.C., while a Black woman watches them. The photo is by photographer Cheney Orr, taken on July 4, 2026, 70 years after the first photo.
“What, to the American slave, is your 4th of July? I answer; one day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sound of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants brass fronted impudence; your shout of liberty and equality, hallow mockery; your prayers and hyms [sic], your sermons and thanks-givings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are to him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy – a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages. There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of the United States, at this very hour.”
— Frederick Douglass (1818-1895), from a speech given at Rochester, New York, July 5, 1852.
Reasons for hope: Lots of amazing people did a ton of work to make this fantastic, fully interactive resource available - because no matter how bleak things seem, there are millions, and millions of people doing everything they can to protect both the world and their own communities.
You can use this to view and subscribe to updates, project statuses, and for at least some of them even whole dossiers. This is an amazing resource, I highly recommend checking it out
I’m convinced that if you could
have seen my grandmother
standing in the doorway
waiting for him to come home from the fields,
if you’d smelled that spectacular evening thick
with sweat & felt the pulsing of the stars, if
you’d borne witness
to the animals’ moans echoing in the holler
that night, if you just could have seen the
hair rise up
on granddaddy’s arm like that, like
offerings to god, when his elbow touched
hers, if you could have seen
her longing dissipate just a little as he came
through the door smelling like a day’s work, you
should have seen them close enough to breathe
the same air while not even touching.
(He smiled at her without smiling.) If you could
have seen them watching me watch them, then
you’d know how much i love you. If you could
have heard her say, You want some supper?
We got pie.
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every day i am thankful to ancient humans for the domestication of the cat. fucking genius idea. agriculture was a good one too btw but you really outdid yourselves with the cat thing
I think the purest form of love is just wanting someone to notice life with you. "taste this. look at that. hear this song." again and again. until you can't imagine noticing life without them.
“I want you to do this with me for one month. One month. Write 10 observations a week and by the end of four weeks, you will have an answer. Because when someone writes about the rustic gutter and the water pouring through it onto the muddy grass, the real pours into the room. And it’s thrilling. We’re all enlivened by it. We don’t have to find more than the rustic gutter and the muddy grass and the pouring cold water.”
— Marie Howe, Boston University’s 2016 Theopoetics Conference (via mothersofmyheart)
I ask my students every week to write 10 observations of the actual world. It’s very hard for them.
Ms. Tippett:
Really?
Ms. Howe:
They really find it hard.
Ms. Tippett:
What do you mean? What is the assignment? 10 observations of their actual world?
Ms. Howe:
Just tell me what you saw this morning like in two lines. I saw a water glass on a brown tablecloth, and the light came through it in three places. No metaphor. And to resist metaphor is very difficult because you have to actually endure the thing itself, which hurts us for some reason.
Ms. Tippett:
It does.
Ms. Howe:
It hurts us.
Ms. Tippett:
You naming something.
Ms. Howe:
We want to say, “It was like this; it was like that.” We want to look away. And to be with a glass of water or to be with anything — and then they say, “Well, there’s nothing important enough.” And that’s whole thing. It’s the point.
Ms. Howe:
It’s the this, right?
Ms. Howe:
Right, the this, whatever. And then they say, “Oh, I saw a lot of people who really want” — and, “No, no, no. No abstractions, no interpretations.” But then this amazing thing happens, Krista. The fourth week or so, they come in and clinkety, clank, clank, clank, onto the table pours all this stuff. And it so thrilling. I mean, it is thrilling. Everybody can feel it. Everyone is just like, “Wow.” The slice of apple, and then that gleam of the knife, and the sound of the trashcan closing, and the maple tree outside, and the blue jay. I mean, it almost comes clanking into the room. And it’s just amazing.
Ms. Tippett:
In some basic level, what they’ve done is just engage with their senses.
Ms. Howe:
Yeah, and have been present out of their minds and just noticing what’s around them, which is — we don’t do. And again, not to compare it to anything. They’re not allowed. And that’s very hard for them. And then on the fifth or sixth week, I say, “OK, use metaphors.” And they don’t want to. They don’t know how. They’re like, “Why would I? Why would I compare that to anything when it’s itself?” Exactly. Good question.
So then you think, why the necessity of a metaphor? Why do you have to use a metaphor now? Not just to do it to avoid it, but to do it to make it more there. And it’s very interesting.
The words and silences we live by. The rituals that sustain us. The poetry of ordinary time.
