tv show idea: “breaking good”
a murderous drug lord is miraculously cured of cancer and decides to turn his life around. he uses his extensive knowledge of meth cookery to become a chemistry teacher and help young people discover the wonder of science
Jane H. Hill, The Everyday Language of White Racism (via wretchedoftheearth)
This is like when me and my white soon-to-be husband were looking for places. I’d call up and they’d say, “Come on down! Get an application!”. Because I don’t “sound” black.
Then I’d walk in 2 minutes later and they’d be all, “Oh. Sorry, we just rented it.”
Then I’d send him in and he’d get an application.
The best part? Walking back in while he was completing the application. “Oh, they gave you an application? But they told me it was just rented. ODD. THAT. I’m going to report them so let’s just skip this place, m’kay?” The looks on their faces and the pathetic apologies were just too much fun.
Used to deal with the same thing with road trips. Hotels would tell me that there were no vacancies, but my white roommate would go in and get us a room, usually cheaper than advertised.
I do similar stuff at restauants and other places of business with my white bf. At least it makes it easier to know where not to go!
Reblogging again for the commentary
But we’re just supposed to *trust* and think everything is an *isolated* incident.
Not so sophisticated scholars, were they? I mean this really, really shouldn’t be all that surprising.
It shouldn’t be surprising, but I guarantee that most white people find it unbelievable
I’m going to reblog this every time I see it on my dash. My parents pointed out how this phenomenon worked when we were moving to PA (they’d get steered to crummier neighborhoods and have to insist on being shown others). Housing discrimination is still pretty widespread and the gatekeepers? Tend to either intentionally or due to unchecked bias reinforce the status quo.
Not long after the diagnosis [of ALS], my wife at the time and I were discussing my future with the neurologist. He began going over the disease progression in a matter of fact way. He said your breathing muscles will become paralyzed and you will go to sleep and die. He quickly added that some patients decide to go on a ventilator, but there is no quality of life living that way. I shook my head in agreement.
It is extremely easy for a healthy individual to say how they would not live. I am guilty myself. If someone had told me prior to the diagnosis that I would be totally paralyzed, fed by a feeding tube, communicate via computer with a voice synthesizer and tethered to a ventilator that I would find more meaning in life and living I am certain that person telling me such a tale was insane.
Yes, my life is very difficult and requires a lot of resources to keep me alive, human and financial. I have considered disconnecting from the ventilator several times, but the reason is never because I had lost my appreciation for life and living.
I was admitted into the hospital and scheduled for tracheotomy surgery the next morning. That night my now ex-wife told me how selfish I was for wanting to live. That my young children had suffered enough and it would cause them only more pain. It was a sickening sense of abandonment. I have absolutely no doubt if I did not have the ability to communicate my desires the surgery would have not taken place.
See? The pressure to die is fucking everywhere. My experiences aren’t unique. Medical professionals tell you there’s no quality of life. Your own family calls you selfish. It’s everywhere. And for some reason feeding tubes are right about the first step along the way where you really start getting pressured to die rather than accept a medical device into your life. My experiences are the norm not the exception and disabled people are pressured into death constantly when otherwise we might choose to live.