Fat, beautiful, mentally ill. Cis femme queer. Love fashion and baking. Pronouns are she and her. Religious. In my spare time, dogs.
Imagine having braces during the apocalypse. no one can take your braces off. And you just have to accept that you’ll have braces forever.
i want a novel focused around a character with braces during the apocalypse and the entire plot of the story revolves around their search for an orthodontist who is still alive and they sort of accidentally save the world in the process
Titled: Brace for It.
oh my god
i have the PERFECT STORY
Not the same story, but Beth Wiggins’ book Cure involves a main character whose father is the only dentist left after an apocalypse and he is basically able to survive because everyone needs him so much.
Children of color are old enough to face racism when they’re born. Old enough to bear the weight of stereotypes & hate before their little eyes can focus. But somehow white kids are supposed to be too delicate & too shielded to even know race exists because somehow that might hurt them. When your definition of innocent child doesn’t include my babies? I know what you’re on & I don’t have any patience for the lies you tell yourself or your children.
Background: The quoted section is a lightly edited reposting of something I wrote in October of 2012; since it has to do with the historical intersection of lesbian and bisexual culture in England, I thought it might be of interest to the #difemina tag.
So I’m reading all these first-hand testimonials by British self-identified lesbians who were young in the 1940s through 60s—testimonials which are dominated, by and large, by: butch/femme club culture, alcohol consumption, struggling to find a community, negotiating and ending straight marriages; code-switching among different peer groups; struggling to find housing; having to “femme up” at work, even in military or police professions. In other words, most of these women were looking to live something as close to a “normal,” middle-class life as they could given the stigma and oppression they faced due to their sexual orientation. Before the advent of the queer rights movement in the mid-1960s, lesbian club culture wasn’t even particularly politicized.
Pretty much EVERY SINGLE TIME something kinkier, less mainstream, or more overtly political comes up—AND ONLY THEN—you hear the word “bisexual.” It’s like… I now know something interesting is coming every time I read the word, because bi men and women are generally not even brought up in these narratives except to signal some kind of exoticized transgression. Transgressions like (I’m paraphrasing):
- This one time we went to a party at this bisexual girl’s house, and there was a woman there selling dildos [literally the only mention of sex toys I have been able to find in these narratives prior to 1960].
- Normally we stuck to the black clubs [or the white clubs] but I was friends with this one bisexual girl who liked to dance at the Gateways [which was unusually racially diverse].
- There was a party once at a bisexual girl’s house where people were swapping partners.
- I dated this bisexual stripper who always wanted to go to the Gateways because it had the sexiest dancing.
It’s interesting to think, in this context, what the label “bisexual” really means, to these particular women. Because it’s obviously not the same thing it means to me, or my modern peers.
For example, none of the femme bar patrons are referred to as bi, even those who were once or remained married to men, and/or had biological children. Obviously it’s possible to be a Kinsey 6 and be bullied into a straight marriage by the social mores of the time, but while I’m 100% positive that happened, I also suspect strongly that the full range of experience is more diverse than that. Did some of these women experience sexual attraction for their husbands, and also, later or even simultaneously, for their female lovers? It’s hard to imagine they didn’t. But that particular narrative was not labeled “bisexual” by the people involved, even if it might seem clearly bisexual or pansexual when viewed through a modern lens.
You could think about this as bi erasure, and to a certain extent it was, since women who experienced attraction to multiple genders but who weren’t into kink, drugs, or sex work apparently didn’t get called (or call themselves) bi. But it’s interesting to me that there seems to have been something else going on as well: an othering of bisexuality that made it more daring, more dangerous—more transgressive, within the context of midcentury British bar culture—than simple lesbianism.
It’s not that the Gateways “lesbians” (some of whom, again, would be classed bisexual in modern parlance) simply ignored the existence of bisexuality; it’s that they made that word into a category with a whole host of other signifiers. I wonder if, in a way, the Platonic “bisexual girl” became the sort of mythic whispered-about counterculture figure that “those lesbians” might have been for the straight folks of the day. It also makes me wonder about people who self-identified as bisexual during this time, and how their perceptions of the cultural lay of the land might have been similar or different.
(My main sources here were Rebecca Jennings’s Tomboys and Bachelor Girls: A lesbian history of post-war Britain, and Jill Gardiner’s From the Closet to the Screen: Women at the Gateways Club 1945-85—both of which, btw, I recommend.)
What Boss #3 Says: you know, I was just reading about the most amazing thing. The people who grow cocoa plants have no idea what they're used for! And someone brought them some chocolate -- they had never had chocolate before! -- and their faces when they tasted it-- It was amazing. They're so poor, you know, but their lives are simple and they're so happy. They have no animosity towards white people even though they work to make chocolate for white people and they'd never even tasted it. Wow, I wish we could all live that way.
What I hear: I'm a racist, classist asshole!
-IsaJennie @igmurray 15h
This is about the burden of disabilities, mental illnesses, and chronic illnesses in academia but I’m guessing it applies to pretty much any setting where one can request services for disabilities. Or just life in general.
Also known as I really need my accommodations but don’t freak out please don’t freak out I promise I can do the work.