tipsforradicals:

mehreenkasana:

You won’t get too far with any kind of movement if you don’t listen to critique(s) coming from within your group. No ideological movement is pure and homogeneous in its stance; There will be always criticism from your peers as soon as they see that the collective movement or goal is becoming redundant because of the stale discussion(s) taking place. If you really want change to happen, you need to be open to criticism. Deflecting it defensively or seeing this as “betrayal” from your comrades is immature and ultimately self-destructive.

What you’re looking for is a cozy comforter for your ego, not an actual political or social movement.

be open to criticism! unity isn’t as important as honest debate

thepeoplesrecord:

Remembering Zoraida: Why we must build an anti-imperialist, multi-issue immigrants rights movement August 28, 2014
Zoraida Reyes was a trans woman and immigrant rights movement builder, working to weave transgender struggle and queer liberation into immigrant rights spaces. Zoraida was murdered, her body dumped in a parking-lot at a fast-food restaurant on June 12, 2014. The police have called her death “suspicious,” but have yet to declare it murder. Zoraida was my friend. She taught me to have dignity in my queer and migrant identities. Losing her is a tragedy and I want my entire community to fully feel the impact of her death, her murder, her struggle, her legacy.
Her friends and family are calling for justice. This is the kind of of loss that should have us all uprising! So many transmigrants and Trans women of color have been hurt and murdered in the last few months, a trend that, over the years, has started to look like genocide. We need to build communities and movements where the lives of our undocumented trans sisters and trans sisters of color are no longer under threat and treated as disposable.
I met Zoraida in college at the University of California, Santa Barbara, where we were involved in some of the same student organizations. We quickly built a friendship around our undocumented, queer experiences. During that time, she began her transition and hormone therapy and needed a social support system for transitioning that didn’t exist at white, heteronormative, affluent UCSB.
Zoraida joined an undocumented student group I was in that focused on campaigning for the DREAM Act and institutional support for undocumented students. We thought the organization was a safer space, so I asked that it also provide opportunities for those of us who were queer to have emotional support. The president of the group responded that if we wanted a support group that talked about “gay issues,” we needed something separate because most people could not relate to our experience. But it was important to me that we had an intersectional space, where the material and social needs of Undocu-queer and trans folks were a critical part of our fight.
Weeks later, at the same space, a very harsh, transphobic comment was made. Zoraida and I stormed out the room, never to return. Back then, I felt self-righteous for walking away with her from a space that was just being built and already reproducing homophobia and transphobia. But, I wished I stayed to challenge that reproduction of oppression, which targeted me as a cis queer woman and her as Trans, and fought for a place of leadership for queer and transmigrants. Today, we are still building spaces that address queer and trans issues in the immigrant rights movement.
On May 27, 2014, queer and trans undocumented and documented migrants carried out a civil disobedience in front of the Orange County immigration detention center. Transmigrants with and without papers put their bodies on the line despite the threat of state brutality. Zoraida was there. I had lost touch with her after college, but I recognized her on the live-stream sitting locked-arm with other migrants and barricading the street in civil disobedience. They made a bad ass intervention by highlighting, like never before, the atrocities trans women experience in detention centers. These atrocities have resulted in torture and death. At a rally earlier this year, she was recorded saying, “As Trans women, our bodies are political.” Her body and her visibility in the movement was highly political, highly counter-hegemonic.
I attended Zoraida’s wake in Santa Ana and over 100 people were there, especially from the local latino, queer and trans latino community—which truly speaks to her very unique legacy. We mourned and held each other with the terrible understanding that a lot of people in that space could be the next victim of this atrocious racist, xenophobic, homophobic, transphobic empire that continues to take lives, especially the lives of trans women. We had a moment to love and be gentle with each other, a moment in which many of us promised her that we would not rest until these horrendous murders stop. More than simply finding the party responsible for her death, this means addressing the deep poverty and lack of resources transmigrants face today.
On June 20th, at a presentation by Guatemalan lesbian feminist organizer, Sandra Moran, a member of the San Francisco Transgender, Gender-variant, Intersex Justice Project spoke about the conditions at the county jail for Trans folks of color and how they are addressing them. One of our members at Causa Justa shared that he felt honored to be hearing about this campaign from a trans leader, that, as a migrant cisgendered man who identified as heterosexual, it was important to hear and understand where he was needed and how to stand in solidarity. Since then, he has asked for dialogue that integrates responding to the conditions queer and trans folks experience around criminalization and deportation in our campaign work and demands.
In order to focus our demands in a way that centers the needs of our sisters most disenfranchised by this patriarchal, capitalist, cissexist empire; we need to reject assimilationist, meritocracy propaganda that was used back then, and still today, in the undocumented student circles that support DREAM Act legislations. It would mean getting sharper on our analysis and resistance of capitalism, imperialism, and all the ways those systems criminalize our survival and profit from the hyper exploitation of our communities.
It is our duty to build an immigrant rights movement that is intersectional. We must build so that the livelihood, leadership and power of transmigrants are at the center of our demands for dignity, liberation, and social and economic equality. We need to fight, not just for the murders of our friends to be resolved. We need to fight for all of us to have real access to a job without discrimination, to medical attention, to a community free of trans and homophobic violence. We do not live in a safe haven for transmigrants; we live inside the belly of a beast that promotes capitalist-heteropatriarchy all over the world. We must focus our attention to the voices of transmigrants to understand their conditions, to include their struggle in solidarity and to fight with them in unity. We must build a movement with a program of demands that rejects meritocracy and all the ways capitalism profits from our suffering, a program that centers all of us migrants surviving and thriving. ¡Zoraida Reyes vive, La lucha sigue!
Source

thepeoplesrecord:

Remembering Zoraida: Why we must build an anti-imperialist, multi-issue immigrants rights movement 
August 28, 2014

Zoraida Reyes was a trans woman and immigrant rights movement builder, working to weave transgender struggle and queer liberation into immigrant rights spaces. Zoraida was murdered, her body dumped in a parking-lot at a fast-food restaurant on June 12, 2014. The police have called her death “suspicious,” but have yet to declare it murder. Zoraida was my friend. She taught me to have dignity in my queer and migrant identities. Losing her is a tragedy and I want my entire community to fully feel the impact of her death, her murder, her struggle, her legacy.

Her friends and family are calling for justice. This is the kind of of loss that should have us all uprising! So many transmigrants and Trans women of color have been hurt and murdered in the last few months, a trend that, over the years, has started to look like genocide. We need to build communities and movements where the lives of our undocumented trans sisters and trans sisters of color are no longer under threat and treated as disposable.

I met Zoraida in college at the University of California, Santa Barbara, where we were involved in some of the same student organizations. We quickly built a friendship around our undocumented, queer experiences. During that time, she began her transition and hormone therapy and needed a social support system for transitioning that didn’t exist at white, heteronormative, affluent UCSB.

Zoraida joined an undocumented student group I was in that focused on campaigning for the DREAM Act and institutional support for undocumented students. We thought the organization was a safer space, so I asked that it also provide opportunities for those of us who were queer to have emotional support. The president of the group responded that if we wanted a support group that talked about “gay issues,” we needed something separate because most people could not relate to our experience. But it was important to me that we had an intersectional space, where the material and social needs of Undocu-queer and trans folks were a critical part of our fight.

Weeks later, at the same space, a very harsh, transphobic comment was made. Zoraida and I stormed out the room, never to return. Back then, I felt self-righteous for walking away with her from a space that was just being built and already reproducing homophobia and transphobia. But, I wished I stayed to challenge that reproduction of oppression, which targeted me as a cis queer woman and her as Trans, and fought for a place of leadership for queer and transmigrants. Today, we are still building spaces that address queer and trans issues in the immigrant rights movement.

On May 27, 2014, queer and trans undocumented and documented migrants carried out a civil disobedience in front of the Orange County immigration detention center. Transmigrants with and without papers put their bodies on the line despite the threat of state brutality. Zoraida was there. I had lost touch with her after college, but I recognized her on the live-stream sitting locked-arm with other migrants and barricading the street in civil disobedience. They made a bad ass intervention by highlighting, like never before, the atrocities trans women experience in detention centers. These atrocities have resulted in torture and death. At a rally earlier this year, she was recorded saying, “As Trans women, our bodies are political.” Her body and her visibility in the movement was highly political, highly counter-hegemonic.

I attended Zoraida’s wake in Santa Ana and over 100 people were there, especially from the local latino, queer and trans latino community—which truly speaks to her very unique legacy. We mourned and held each other with the terrible understanding that a lot of people in that space could be the next victim of this atrocious racist, xenophobic, homophobic, transphobic empire that continues to take lives, especially the lives of trans women. We had a moment to love and be gentle with each other, a moment in which many of us promised her that we would not rest until these horrendous murders stop. More than simply finding the party responsible for her death, this means addressing the deep poverty and lack of resources transmigrants face today.

On June 20th, at a presentation by Guatemalan lesbian feminist organizer, Sandra Moran, a member of the San Francisco Transgender, Gender-variant, Intersex Justice Project spoke about the conditions at the county jail for Trans folks of color and how they are addressing them. One of our members at Causa Justa shared that he felt honored to be hearing about this campaign from a trans leader, that, as a migrant cisgendered man who identified as heterosexual, it was important to hear and understand where he was needed and how to stand in solidarity. Since then, he has asked for dialogue that integrates responding to the conditions queer and trans folks experience around criminalization and deportation in our campaign work and demands.

In order to focus our demands in a way that centers the needs of our sisters most disenfranchised by this patriarchal, capitalist, cissexist empire; we need to reject assimilationist, meritocracy propaganda that was used back then, and still today, in the undocumented student circles that support DREAM Act legislations. It would mean getting sharper on our analysis and resistance of capitalism, imperialism, and all the ways those systems criminalize our survival and profit from the hyper exploitation of our communities.

It is our duty to build an immigrant rights movement that is intersectional. We must build so that the livelihood, leadership and power of transmigrants are at the center of our demands for dignity, liberation, and social and economic equality. We need to fight, not just for the murders of our friends to be resolved. We need to fight for all of us to have real access to a job without discrimination, to medical attention, to a community free of trans and homophobic violence. We do not live in a safe haven for transmigrants; we live inside the belly of a beast that promotes capitalist-heteropatriarchy all over the world. We must focus our attention to the voices of transmigrants to understand their conditions, to include their struggle in solidarity and to fight with them in unity. We must build a movement with a program of demands that rejects meritocracy and all the ways capitalism profits from our suffering, a program that centers all of us migrants surviving and thriving. ¡Zoraida Reyes vive, La lucha sigue!

Source

through consortium i have access to the library of one of the best design schools in the world (ranking and status wise)………. i’m screaming

blue1887:


Afterimage is a physiological response created when the eye is exposed to a concentrated burst of color, triggering the optic nerve to produce a brief flash of its complementary. Creating surgical scrubs and theater operating robes that are blue-green in color prevents doctors from seeing this afterimage when they look away from the wound they are operating on, since the optic nerve already recognizes it as the complementary color.

Textile Futures: Fashion, Design and Technology

blue1887:

Afterimage is a physiological response created when the eye is exposed to a concentrated burst of color, triggering the optic nerve to produce a brief flash of its complementary. Creating surgical scrubs and theater operating robes that are blue-green in color prevents doctors from seeing this afterimage when they look away from the wound they are operating on, since the optic nerve already recognizes it as the complementary color.

Textile Futures: Fashion, Design and Technology

white boys always talk about shit they don’t know about, especially in this patronizing-but-i’m-just-trying-to-teach-you-all-of-my-grand-and-wonderful-knowledge sort of way. hi college

siddharthasmama:

fiftyshadesofmacygray:

whatisthat-velvet:

#rp #dontshoot

Okay, this is really important.

this is much needed right now in the midst of everything else we’ve been doing in solidarity for mike - let’s not forget how Black, disabled folks are also targets, especially those with autism, due to behaviors cops love to read as “aggressive”, on top of their racism.

siddharthasmama:

fiftyshadesofmacygray:

whatisthat-velvet:

#rp #dontshoot

Okay, this is really important.

this is much needed right now in the midst of everything else we’ve been doing in solidarity for mike - let’s not forget how Black, disabled folks are also targets, especially those with autism, due to behaviors cops love to read as “aggressive”, on top of their racism.

musaafer:

What is happening in Ferguson - and the solidarity people from Palestine are expressing - is exactly what Angela Davis has been talking about. The internationalization of these oppressive structures. The prison industrial complex does not exist in a vacuum. Police brutality doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Apartheid doesn’t exist in a vacuum. These oppressive structures are interconnected.

This is why whenever I’ve seen her speak on the PIC or on feminism and abolition, she’s always connected it to Palestine. Global connections. When she was imprisoned in the 70s, in solitary confinement in an American prison, a Palestinian political prisoner in an Israeli jail sent her a message of solidarity - it was smuggled out of that Israeli cell an into Davis’ cell. Do we not see parallels of that today in those tweets sharing tips on how to deal with police brutality?

The struggles are distinct. Specific to specific communities. But the structures are interconnected. What does it say for American police to be trained by and often armed by the IDF; what does it say for weapons to be tested on Palestinians and then sold to the rest of the world; what does it say for military and prisons to both be privatized to this extent; what does it say for neoliberal institutions like the IMF and the world bank to be supporting private prisons as replacements of state functions in developing countries? We have to have attention to detail and we have to also be able to look at this in a larger framework.