people who use “newgen(s)” as a genuine insult piss me the fuck off 😭 like are we not allowed to consume a new media?
“you just like it cuz its popular” chances are that i wouldve never FOUND IT if it werent
and also, god forbid someone is casual about a fandom?? im sorry im not caught up on any sorta manga that i watch the anime for, i dont have reading comprehension skills </3 AND GOD FORBID I DONT LISTEN TO SPECIFIC REDACTED AUDIO CHARACTERS BC I DONT CARE FOR EM.
Hot Take: The girl who said that Boycotting is a Privilege is right
First, before I go on a ramble about this, let me clear the air about some misconceptions. No, this does not include places like Starbucks. You do not need Starbucks, and you do not need their products. This also does not apply to historical movements. Boycotting is a form of protest, and it has led to monumental change.
But here is where it becomes a privilege: when you live in a food desert (an area where affordable, healthy food and basic goods are hard to access), and the only stores within a 10–20 mile radius are companies currently on boycott lists (Which are A Good Majority of companies you see everyday), you don’t really have a choice. People still need hygiene products, consumables, and daily necessities. Some people cannot afford the gas it takes to drive an extra 10 or 20 miles just to shop “ethically.” Some people also can barely afford other than what’s offered on the McDonald’s five-dollar menu, so it isn’t a moral failure—it’s survival.
Another point is that some areas don’t have small businesses at all, let alone affordable ones. And even when small businesses do exist, they can be more expensive because of limited stock and labor costs. Many people simply cannot afford to buy clothes, food, or household necessities from those places, no matter how much they want to support them.
Another important part of this conversation is time and energy. Boycotting requires research, planning, and flexibility—things that not everyone has. People working multiple jobs, caring for family members, or dealing with disabilities are often just trying to get through the week. Expecting them to constantly track boycott lists (I’ll attach one or two I find below) or make harder, more expensive choices ignores the reality of their lives.
At the end of the day, some people truly cannot afford to boycott, no matter how much they want to. When meeting basic needs already takes everything someone has—money, time, and energy—opting out of certain stores or brands just isn’t possible. Being able to choose protest over survival is a privilege, and acknowledging that doesn’t dismiss activism—it means they’re doing the best they can with what they have. People shouldn’t have to feel guilty about wanting to survive these situations.
Speaking on “Hairstyles I like on black women as a white woman” and why its problematic
One again, annotated for those with reading or comprehension difficulties like myself
That whole trend of primarily non-Black people (Majority being people who are white) showcasing their favorite hairstyles for Black individuals is incredibly tone-deaf—and they don’t realize it. When the majority of a community expresses discomfort with something, it’s worth reflecting on why they feel that way.
For centuries, people with textured hair—particularly those of African descent—have been told to “tame” or “fix” their natural hair to meet Eurocentric beauty standards (Byrd & Tharps, 2014). Even I, someone with 3b hair, have experienced this a few too many times…And I have a looser curl pattern + I’m Puerto Rican. Spaniard passing too.
This long-standing policing of textured hair has created a collective trauma and sensitivity around how Black hair is discussed and represented.
While the people participating in this trend likely do not have malicious intentions, good intent does not erase impact. Their videos often translate as a group of individuals who are not told to “fix” or “tame” their hair giving unsolicited opinions about what styles look best on those who have been historically shamed for theirs.
This dynamic feels extremely patronizing and dismissive, especially considering that Black hair has been politicized and stigmatized for centuries (Mercer, 1987; Tate, 2007). For many, every comment about their hair—no matter how “well-intentioned”—can carry echoes of that painful history. Just as someone with a background of betrayal may be wary of others’ motives, Black people who have faced consistent microaggressions about their hair are naturally defensive if not cautious of how it’s discussed.
Adding to the issue, many of these trend videos use the song “Na$ty” by KIRBY—a black woman—without acknowledging the cultural, political, or emotional weight behind it.
This form of cultural appropriation is not new; it mirrors broader patterns where Black art and expression are borrowed, stripped of context, and repackaged for mainstream consumption (hooks, 1992).
When creators become defensive instead of reflective after being called out, it reinforces the very message of exclusion and misunderstanding that the original art was speaking against.
Also, it’s crazy how badly their interpretations of the black community as a whole shine through here. “All the time” “Offended by literally everything” Okay.
If you become offended when marginalized communities express discomfort, the problem moreeee than likely isn’t them—it’s your unwillingness to listen. There are countless ways to uplift others that don’t involve performative trends. A more inclusive and respectful approach might involve featuring diverse hair types, choosing songs without political or racial undertones, and genuinely engaging with feedback.
Ironically, the backlash from some white participants—claiming “we can’t say anything anymore”—only proves the point of the very songs and conversations they’re co-opting. The history of whiteness in Western culture has often involved centering one’s perspective while disregarding others, particularly those of marginalized groups (DiAngelo, 2018).
Hair, in this context, is not “just hair.” It is a deeply personal and political aspect of Black identity, tied to self-expression, resistance, and resilience (Banks, 2000). When people ignore that complexity, it stops being appreciation—it becomes appropriation.
Hair has always been and will forever be culture.
Sources:
Banks, Ingrid. Hair Matters: Beauty, Power, and Black Women’s Consciousness. New York University Press, 2000.
Byrd, Ayana D., and Lori L. Tharps. Hair Story: Untangling the Roots of Black Hair in America. St. Martin’s Press, 2014.
DiAngelo, Robin. White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism. Beacon Press, 2018.
hooks, bell. Black Looks: Race and Representation. South End Press, 1992.
Mercer, Kobena. “Black Hair/Style Politics.” New Formations, vol. 3, 1987, pp. 33–54.
Tate, Shirley. Black Beauty: Aesthetics, Stylization, Politics. Ashgate, 2007.
