Why Mom’s Time Is Different From Dad’s Time | Wall Street Journal
Complicating matters, mothers assume a disproportionate number of time-sensitive domestic tasks, whether it’s getting their toddlers dressed for school or their 12-year-olds off to swim practice. Their daily routine is speckled with what sociologists Annette Lareau and Elliot Weininger call “pressure points,” or nonnegotiable demands that make their lives, as the authors put it, “more frenetic.” These deadlines have unintended consequences. They force women to search for wormholes in the time-space continuum simply to accomplish all the things that they need to do.
The Problem With Little White Girls (And Boys) | Pippa Biddle
Before you sign up for a volunteer trip anywhere in the world this summer, consider whether you possess the skill set necessary for that trip to be successful. If yes, awesome. If not, it might be a good idea to reconsider your trip. Sadly, taking part in international aid where you aren’t particularly helpful is not benign. It’s detrimental. It slows down positive growth and perpetuates the “white savior” complex that, for hundreds of years, has haunted both the countries we are trying to ‘save’ and our (more recently) own psyches. Be smart about traveling and strive to be informed and culturally aware. It’s only through an understanding of the problems communities are facing, and the continued development of skills within that community, that long-term solutions will be created.
Black Boy Interrupted | Ta-Nehisi Coates For The Atlantic
And this will happen again, must happen again, because our policy is color-blind, but our heritage isn’t. An American courtroom claiming it can be colorblind denies its rightful inheritance. An American courtroom claiming it can be colorblind is a drug addict claiming he can walk away after just one more hit. Law and legacy are at war. Legacy is winning. Legacy will always win. And our legacy is to die in this land where time is unequal, and deeded days are unequal, and blessed is the black man who lives to learn other ways, who lives to see other worlds, who lives to bear witness before the changes.
Why Mom’s Time Is Different From Dad’s Time | Wall Street Journal
Complicating matters, mothers assume a disproportionate number of time-sensitive domestic tasks, whether it’s getting their toddlers dressed for school or their 12-year-olds off to swim practice. Their daily routine is speckled with what sociologists Annette Lareau and Elliot Weininger call “pressure points,” or nonnegotiable demands that make their lives, as the authors put it, “more frenetic.” These deadlines have unintended consequences. They force women to search for wormholes in the time-space continuum simply to accomplish all the things that they need to do.
Deeply Embarrassed White People Talk Awkwardly About Race | The Stranger
I ask her how to talk about racism with people who don’t want to see it. I’m not talking about Tea Partyers; I’m talking about people like some of my friends and family, lefties who care, people who are on my team. Attempts to bring up race in editorial meetings at The Stranger have been as klutzy as anywhere. Even for perfectly decent, well-meaning, progressive people, it can be hard to see the connection between unintended acts of racism and actual racial injustice.
Oh, The Places We Go | How To Be A Dad
I’m learning to play with my son as his personality evolves. Each interaction is a beautifully awkward improvisation. But the more deeply I invest in his imagination, his universe, the more I work out my lack of understanding of humanity. I see that the narrative can be in an instant, as my little storyteller decides. I am reminded who I am fighting for when I speak, think, act, decide, work, play, love, challenge and fail. I let myself fall in love with imagination again and it helps give me perspective. I am unshackled from the burden of maturity.
But I don’t miss my kids’ early childhoods. I don’t miss potty-training and packing for a day trip like it was a month-long pilgrimage. I don’t miss tying the same shoes 439 times a day and wiping runny noses twice as much. I think teenagers are pretty darn fun, and I would never, ever want to go back. When I think about my time as a mother of babies and toddlers, it almost makes me break out in hives. The constant fatigue, the mindless TV shows, the annoying music, the physical demands of tending to the needs of four children under the age of five. The memories alone make me want to take to my bed.
It’s Not About You, And Other Adventures In Privilege | Days Like Crazy Paving
Whiteness, in short, is something I am very much committed to critiquing, de-centring, and even tearing apart a little. Whiteness is the reason there are very few role models for black and brown children in mainstream entertainment media. Whiteness is the reason that when I see a Muslim character on television, they’re more likely to be a terrorist than a love interest. Whiteness is incredibly problematic and we can and should question it and the ways in which it affects and harms people of colour. Because that’s what it’s about, see – not making white people feel bad, not white guilt or white-shaming or reverse racism. It’s about tearing off the shackles that bind us. It is, in other words, Not About You.
Your picture of heartbreak, your strain of pain is part of the human fabric, and that tapestry is holding you like an Eskimo blanket. Other people have survived this and when they got out of the hole, they left a morphogenic popcorn trail out of the pain. You can trace their steps. It may be hard to believe right now, but not only will it be okay, not only will you get through and over this, you will thrive again. You will be clear and vibrant and INCREDIBLE. You will not only have more character to pull out at parties and wisdom to offer the world, but you will feel more joy than you think is possible right now. You will.
Facetruth: I Took Off My Hijab | Leena Mielus
But did that mean that *with* hijab I am not as respectable? I am not as lovable? I cannot be accepted? I immediately began to despise the inequality, and it dawned on me that I acted like someone who was bullied for years, and finally was accepted by the mean girls, having been alluded that the mean girls became nice to everyone. I was duped. When in fact nothing had changed, and I had simply crossed over to another world for one season.
