boredoms

A search for passion in a desert of feelings

How to be a good ally to Rromani people

chirikli:

(Inpsired by this post)

-Don’t say “Gypsy”. Or “Gypped”. No matter how it’s spelled.
-Correct others who use the words.
-Punch Holocaust deniers in the throat.
-Avoid supporting businesses or musicians that use offensive terminology. Or at the very least, be aware of how damaging they are.
-Don’t accept “historical accuracy” or “art” as excuses for people to be anti-Rromani.
-Don’t perpetuate stereotypes.

Thank you! Najis tuke!

(via sexistentialisms)

[The university] gazes toward a vast ocean horizon, but misses its own reflection. Academics often know a great deal more about the work of their international colleagues than they know about the history and ecology of the land that the university is sitting on.

—Michael Marker, “Theories and disciplines as sites of struggle: The reproduction of colonial dominance through the controlling of knowledge in the academy” (via todoelajo)

(via socio-logic)

The problem is that white people see racism as conscious hate, when racism is bigger than that. Racism is a complex system of social and political levers and pulleys set up generations ago to continue working on the behalf of whites at other people’s expense, whether whites know/like it or not. Racism is an insidious cultural disease. It is so insidious that it doesn’t care if you are a white person who likes black people; it’s still going to find a way to infect how you deal with people who don’t look like you. Yes, racism looks like hate, but hate is just one manifestation. Privilege is another. Access is another. Ignorance is another. Apathy is another. And so on. So while I agree with people who say no one is born racist, it remains a powerful system that we’re immediately born into. It’s like being born into air: you take it in as soon as you breathe. It’s not a cold that you can get over. There is no anti-racist certification class. It’s a set of socioeconomic traps and cultural values that are fired up every time we interact with the world. It is a thing you have to keep scooping out of the boat of your life to keep from drowning in it. I know it’s hard work, but it’s the price you pay for owning everything.

—Scott Woods (via andrewgibby)

(via socio-logic)

sociology-of-space:

Bench to Bedroom: Urban Furniture Turned Homeless Shelters

http://weburbanist.com/2014/07/24/bench-to-bedroom-public-furniture-turned-homeless-shelters/

"Whereas London and Montreal have installed spikes on the sidewalks to keep homeless people from getting too comfortable, Vancouver offers a kind welcome with benches that transform into mini-shelters. A nonprofit called RainCity Housing teamed up with Spring Advertising to create the modified public benches in order to provide a covered place to sleep while simultaneously raising awareness….”

(via socio-logic)

One of the most durable paradoxes of white supremacy - the idea that those who are closest to an experience of oppression are its least credible witnesses.

—Walter Johnson, Soul by soul: life inside the antebellum slave market
(via drapetomaniakkk)

(Source: palmares-politics, via socio-logic)

socimages:

"Tourist, shame on you": Disaster tourism in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. 
By Lisa Wade PhD
When tourists returned to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina, there was a new site to see: disaster.  Suddenly — in addition to going on a Ghost Tour, visiting the Backstreet Cultural Museum, and lunching at Dooky Chase’s — one could see the devastation heaped upon the Lower Ninth Ward.  Buses full of strangers with cameras were rumbling through the neighborhood as it tried to get back on its feet.
A sociology major at  Michigan State University, Kiara C., sent along a photograph of a homemade sign propped up in the Lower Ninth, shaming visitors for what sociologists call “disaster tourism.”
Disaster tourism is criticized for objectifying the suffering of others.  Imagine having lost loved ones and seen your house nearly destroyed. After a year out of town, you’re in your nastiest clothes, mucking sludge out of your house, fearful that the money will run out before you can get the house — the house your grandmother bought and passed down to you through your mother — put back together.
Imagine that — as you push a wheelbarrow out into the sunlight, blink as you adjust to the brightness, and push your hair off your forehead, leaving a smudge of toxic mud — a bus full of cameras flash at you, taking photographs of your trauma, effort, and fear.  And then they take that photo back to their cozy, dry home and show it to their friends, who ooh and aah about how cool it was that they got to see the aftermath of the flood.
The person who made this sign… this is what they may have been feeling.
Photo credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com; found here.
Lisa Wade is a professor of sociology at Occidental College and the co-author of Gender: Ideas, Interactions, Institutions. You can follow her on Twitter and Facebook.

socimages:

"Tourist, shame on you": Disaster tourism in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.

By Lisa Wade PhD

When tourists returned to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina, there was a new site to see: disaster.  Suddenly — in addition to going on a Ghost Tour, visiting the Backstreet Cultural Museum, and lunching at Dooky Chase’s — one could see the devastation heaped upon the Lower Ninth Ward.  Buses full of strangers with cameras were rumbling through the neighborhood as it tried to get back on its feet.

A sociology major at  Michigan State University, Kiara C., sent along a photograph of a homemade sign propped up in the Lower Ninth, shaming visitors for what sociologists call “disaster tourism.”

Disaster tourism is criticized for objectifying the suffering of others.  Imagine having lost loved ones and seen your house nearly destroyed. After a year out of town, you’re in your nastiest clothes, mucking sludge out of your house, fearful that the money will run out before you can get the house — the house your grandmother bought and passed down to you through your mother — put back together.

Imagine that — as you push a wheelbarrow out into the sunlight, blink as you adjust to the brightness, and push your hair off your forehead, leaving a smudge of toxic mud — a bus full of cameras flash at you, taking photographs of your trauma, effort, and fear.  And then they take that photo back to their cozy, dry home and show it to their friends, who ooh and aah about how cool it was that they got to see the aftermath of the flood.

The person who made this sign… this is what they may have been feeling.

Photo credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com; found here.

Lisa Wade is a professor of sociology at Occidental College and the co-author of Gender: Ideas, Interactions, Institutions. You can follow her on Twitter and Facebook.

What Losing My Job Taught Me About Privilege, Sexism, and Oppression

becauseiamawoman:

image

About one year ago, I lost my job. The 6 months it took me to find a new position changed me, and maybe more importantly, it informed my feminism. It also brought me face-to-face with my own privilege. Having a “career” instead of a “job” is a privilege. Benefits, health insurance, and a living wage are all privileges, too – and I no longer take them for granted.

Read more via Everyday Feminism

(via socio-logic)

fucktheory:

5 Points (Around Lacan)

I am often asked about my dislike for Lacan.  But I dislike talking about Lacan, so I don’t really like explaining why I don’t like Lacan.  Anyway, yesterday on Twitter I caved and wrote up in 5 key points why I don’t and here it is reproduced in familiar index card form so hopefully I don’t have to deal with this again anytime soon. 

[The] aim of the ethnographer’s work is that it be as objective as possible. This is not easy or simple, since it requires researchers to try to set aside their own values and assumptions about what is and is not morally acceptable — in other words, to jettison the prism through which they typically view a given situation. By definition one’s own assumptions are so basic to one’s perceptions that seeing their influence may be difficult, if not impossible. Ethnographic researchers, however, have been trained to look for and to recognize underlying assumptions, their own and those of their subjects, and to try to override the former and uncover the latter.

—Elijah Anderson, Code of the Street: Decency, Violence, and the Code of the Inner City, 1999, pg 11. (via socio-logic)

(Source: literary-ethnography, via socio-logic)

angry-hippo:

socialismartnature:

The food you eat or brush you’re using may have been made by a worker earning less than a dollar an hour — not in the developing world, but in the invisible workforce inside America’s prisons. Share this if you oppose prison labor for profit.  Source: http://ow.ly/iwTlY

When I was in prison I worked 3 shifts a day, 5 days a week, starting at 5 AM and ending at 8 PM. I was paid $5.25 a month. Pay for the inmates who facilitate UNICOR workers (by making their food, washing their laundry, etc,) is even lower than the wages cited in the above graphics. The prison industry is also a slave industry, and it isn’t just corporations who benefit. All the furniture you see in federal buildings, post offices, DMVs, etc, where do you think it comes from? Prison labor. I think a lot of people know about states that use prison labor for license plates, but fewer people know that the plaques on doors at city halls, and sometimes the doors themselves, come from prison labor. The incarcerated are a hyper-exploited class unto themselves, and almost no one seems to be helping them to organize.

angry-hippo:

socialismartnature:

The food you eat or brush you’re using may have been made by a worker earning less than a dollar an hour — not in the developing world, but in the invisible workforce inside America’s prisons. Share this if you oppose prison labor for profit.

Source: http://ow.ly/iwTlY

When I was in prison I worked 3 shifts a day, 5 days a week, starting at 5 AM and ending at 8 PM. I was paid $5.25 a month. Pay for the inmates who facilitate UNICOR workers (by making their food, washing their laundry, etc,) is even lower than the wages cited in the above graphics. The prison industry is also a slave industry, and it isn’t just corporations who benefit. All the furniture you see in federal buildings, post offices, DMVs, etc, where do you think it comes from? Prison labor. I think a lot of people know about states that use prison labor for license plates, but fewer people know that the plaques on doors at city halls, and sometimes the doors themselves, come from prison labor. The incarcerated are a hyper-exploited class unto themselves, and almost no one seems to be helping them to organize.

(via sexistentialisms)