As a Native American, I can’t tell you what an absolute pain it is to traverse through aisles of costumes this time of year, especially with children in tow. Mommy doesn’t like explaining why Party City is selling a “Cheeky Cherokee” teen costume that promises to send its wearers “heading for the woods,” or why Spirit Halloween is displaying a “Naughty Navajo” mini dress that will have women “sending out smoke signals.”
Like any decent parent, I try to teach my daughter to carry herself with pride and dignity. These racist costumes, that specifically target her purely because of her race, send her the message that Native American women are viewed as sex objects. It makes her sad and angry. She knows those costumes are not who we as Native women are, and that we should not be depicted that way. Statistically, a shocking one in three Native American women will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime. Encouraging the public to view Native American women as disposable sex toys is more than a grave insult, it’s irresponsible and negligent.
“Many white women have said to me, ‘We wanted black women and non-white women to join the movement,’ totally unaware of their perception that they somehow ‘own’ the movement, that they are the ‘hosts’ inviting us as ‘guests.”—
bell hooks, “Feminist Theory: From Margin to Center” (via thugzmansion)
Yesterday we were thanked for being silent and respectful to a grieving family seated center stage. We were instructed to keep politics at the door though politicians had a front-row seat with camera crews readied for their election year soundbites. …
The only reason I left not feeling defeated was because of you, in all your resilience, beauty, brilliance and ferocity. You held me up, you told me that we would get through, and you showed up despite knowing the open secret we all carry: that Islan was not the first to fall and she will not be the last.”
My open letter to trans women who attended Islan Nettles “community vigil” in Harlem last night. We must mourn, we must work, we must demand better for ourselves and our sisters. (via janetmock)
If you think a woman in a tan vinyl bra and underwear, grabbing her crotch and grinding up on a dance partner is raunchy, trashy, and offensive but you don’t think her dance partner is raunchy, trashy, or offensive as he sings a song about “blurred” lines of consent and…