Martin Luther King Jr removing a burned cross from his front yard with his son at his side. Atlanta Ga 1960.
(Source: collectivehistory, via blacknoonajade)
Jacqui. 21 year old Aussie. Sydney-sider but Londoner at heart. Media student. PTSD. ESFP. Libra sun, Leo moon, Aquarius rising. I like fashion, intersectional feminism, music, atheism, hedonism, beer, sex positivity, cinema, reality television, television in general, photography, travel, nail polish, make up, headwear, inebriation, kindness, swearing, sudoku and other things.
• last.fm
• Ask me shit
• Submit me shit
MTV Diary of Lindsay Lohan (2004)
lol i need to watch this
omg how have i not seen this before
(Source: shehitmefornoreason, via frenchfrancophone)
funny that men mock women going everywhere in groups
but we’re not supposed to go out alone otherwise we might be blamed for our own rape, our own murder.
(via molhouse)
Because of Jill.
It wasn’t randomness, it was rape. It was rape culture. It was a woman walking home from a night out with friends and having someone ignore her rights and her liberty, someone who had been taught, whether indirectly or directly, that he had the power. And he did.
We heard about it because it was random, we heard about it because it was public. Every woman you know has experienced or will experience some kind of sexual harassment or assault. For many, it’ll be a daily hazard on public transport, or at work or just walking along a street. We don’t even talk about it, we don’t even tell those stories because after the 5th creepy guy on a bus who sits too close to you and touches your legs every chance he gets, after the 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th and 7th, cab driver rubs your arm or your hand while you’re locked in a moving vehicle with him, after the 10th time you have to “nicely” stop a drunk male friend from assaulting you because you don’t want to hurt his feelings, but he isn’t taking no for an answer (or give in and have sex), after the 300th time your friend tells you to be careful when you walk home but doesn’t suggest to your male friends that they probably shouldn’t rape anyone on their journey and after the 4000th time a guy doesn’t take a hint in a bar/on the street/at a cafe that you don’t want to talk to him and then calls you a bitch when you explicitly say it, you’re kind of done with even discussing the matter. Because, hey, this is just what we have to deal with right? Like the constant potential that it’ll be us next we stop even noticing the everyday injustice of rape culture, internalised sexism and casual misogyny.
It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, what we’re wearing or what time of day it is, the threat of physical and sexual violence or abuse is something every woman I know has a story about.
I don’t hate men, I couldn’t, and I don’t hate women who don’t get as outraged as I do. But if you’ve never faced your own privilege, if you don’t know what rape culture or victim blaming or slut shaming are and you were touched by Jill Meagher’s story, then I implore you to just take some time and read about these issues, or ask a woman in your life to tell you about her stories. Or shit, just imagine a world where we have stopped telling our daughters to not get raped, and started teaching our sons not to rape*.
*obviously this whole thing is very heteronormative**
**also something worth googling
(Source: honey-and-revolution, via ucnk)
