What if your kid went to jail for trying pot, something that is very probable if your kid is black and living in a state like Texas. Does that mean they deserve to be raped? Does that mean that they should live in conditions that go against all human rights?
Most prison rapes are committed by prison staff. Even if you are heartless and do not care about the prisoners, remember that these prison staff rapists go home to their nice houses in the outside world. Remember that they are your neighbors, maybe they even have babysat your children. Remember that as long as some victims are dehumanized and ignored, many perpetrators will never be caught. And yes, these perpetrators do pose a threat to you and your family. Prison rape, rape in general, is everybody’s problem. And definitely not a fucking joke.
The idea that prisoners “deserve” to be raped is part of rape culture.
Rape is not a punishment. It can not be earned. It is a crime every single time, no matter what, no matter who the victim is.
No one deserves to be sexually assaulted in any way. NO ONE.
Worth crossposting I think.
reading a foreign language: yeah
writing in a foreign language: ok
listening to a foreign language: wait
speaking in a foreign language: fuck
Wake up angry, rub the wrinkles around your eyes. They don’t go away. You’re angry. You’ve been waking up angry for years now. It shows.
There are scratches on your skin where you can’t stand yourself. You brandish them to the world. ‘This is what you have made me.’ This is what the world made you - strong and wild-eyed and built on insecure foundations. This is what the world made you - angry and determined.
You glare at men irately in the street and take up both armrests on public transport. People side-eye you as though you’re unreasonable. A woman sits next to you. She looks tired. You let her have her fair share of the armrest.
Someone opens the door for you on the way to work. You say thank you. They slap your ass as you pass by. You have never wished so vehemently that you could take your words and wrap them around someone’s throat and twist and see their eyes bulge in fright. In your head, they echo words that you’re sure you’ve heard leave the mouth of half the female protagonists you’ve ever seen on screen. ‘What are you going to do to me?’
So, you admit it. ‘Do to me.’ I am going to do something to you. You aren’t going to want it. I’m laughing at you, not with you. This is to you, not with you, and certainly not for you. Remember that.
You stop choking them. They fall to the floor, gasping. You aren’t sure whether they’re trying to catch their breath because you used force against them or because you stood up for yourself and it actually scared them. You blink: in reality, there was a second where you decided whether to turn around and say something or to keep walking. You were unsure which would give them power and which would set them straight. You are already halfway down the street. They are still staring at your ass as you walk away. You are sure that both of your options would have empowered them, so you may as well have given them a bruise. But you are already gone.
You’ve been waking up angry since you were ten and you saw someone on the news talk mention women. What was ‘feminism’, and why did his lip curl when he said it? you wondered, and you searched, and you found red.
You found rape statistics, classroom statistics, boys-are-more-confident-than-girls statistics, why all men want their girlfriends to do anal, why you should please him, mothers taking their daughters to self defence classes, MRA speeches, pro-life opinions, the condescending and harmful thoughts of men before you in chalk on a Google search and the sudden knowledge that it would never hurt a single one of them.
That stranger who commented on Beyoncé’s picture saying exactly what he’d like to do to her will get hired straight out of college. Slack-jawed teachers will jokingly berate their students, preaching ‘boys will be boys’, before frowning pointedly at bare shoulders and skirts above the knee and ‘shouldn’t have risen to the bait’.
When you were ten, you found red, and you’ve never given up red since. Red in your mouth, red in your veins, red in your underwear. Red. Red on your fingernails, red on your lips. You put away nurturing pink and calm blue for another day. Today you wear red.
Note to self: crying doesn’t make you weak
Lillian Weber, a 99-year-old good Samaritan from Iowa, has spent the last few years sewing a dress a day for the Little Dresses For Africa charity, a Christian organization that distributes dresses to children in need in Africa and elsewhere.
Weber’s goal is to make 1,000 dresses by the time she turns 100 on May 6th. So far, she’s made more than 840. Though she says she could make two a day, she only makes one – but each single dress she makes per day is personalized with careful stitchwork. She hopes that each little girl who receives her dress can take pride in her new garment.