tefpoe1:

The national mobilization begins …. We are asking people all over the world to join us in #Ferguson and help us flood the city with the war cry for #justice4mikebrown and the countless other victims of police brutality … People from all over the world will be joining us !!!

tefpoe1:

The national mobilization begins …. We are asking people all over the world to join us in #Ferguson and help us flood the city with the war cry for #justice4mikebrown and the countless other victims of police brutality … People from all over the world will be joining us !!!

3,163 notes

motiya:

See how chill and non competitive your life gets when you don’t judge other girls in how they dress, do their make up, or how many selfies they take. Take a nap by a window, glow up

19,225 notes

awwww-cute:

Tenderness and love of mother

awwww-cute:

Tenderness and love of mother

1,028 notes

atheistxmas:

frenchinhalechanelxoxo:

yeahriggins:

Re-mothafuckin blog

Lmfaooo

I side eye fellow employees so hard when they start looking suspiciously at people of color. Every shoplifter I’ve encountered so far has been a white teenage girl.

(Source: kittiezandtittiez)

312,330 notes

Early in my freshman year, my dad asked me if there were lots of Latinos at school. I wanted to say, “Pa, I’m one of the only Latinos in most of my classes. The other brown faces I see mostly are the landscapers’. I think of you when I see them sweating in the morning sun. I remember you were a landscaper when you first came to Illinois in the 1950s. And look, Pa! Now I’m in college!”

But I didn’t.

I just said, “No, Pa. There’s a few Latinos, mostly Puerto Rican, few Mexicans. But all the landscapers are Mexican.”

My dad responded, “¡Salúdelos, m’ijo!”

So when I walked by the Mexican men landscaping each morning, I said, “Buenos días.”

Recently, I realized what my dad really meant. I remembered learning the Mexican, or Latin American, tradition of greeting people when one enters a room. In my Mexican family, my parents taught me to be “bien educado” by greeting people who were in a room already when I entered. The tradition puts the responsibility of the person who arrives to greet those already there. If I didn’t follow the rule as a kid, my parents admonished me with a back handed slap on my back and the not-so-subtle hint: “¡Saluda!”

I caught myself tapping my 8-year-old son’s back the other day when he didn’t greet one of our friends: “Adrian! ¡Saluda!”

However, many of my white colleagues over the years followed a different tradition of ignorance. “Maleducados,” ol’ school Mexican grandmothers would call them.

But this Mexican tradition is not about the greeting—it’s about the acknowledgment. Greeting people when you enter a room is about acknowledging other people’s presence and showing them that you don’t consider yourself superior to them.

When I thought back to the conversation between my dad and me in 1990, I realized that my dad was not ordering me to greet the Mexican landscapers with a “Good morning.”

Instead, my father wanted me to acknowledge them, to always acknowledge people who work with their hands like he had done as a farm worker, a landscaper, a mechanic. My father with a 3rd grade education wanted me to work with my mind but never wanted me to think myself superior because I earned a college degree and others didn’t.

17,717 notes

boldxwillxhold:

Bob and Moolisa, another one down for the Bobs Burgers series

boldxwillxhold:

Bob and Moolisa, another one down for the Bobs Burgers series

955 notes