Brazilian handball player Tamires carrying the Angolan team captain Albertina Kassoma out of the court after she got hurt

Here is what my mother told me when I was young: the world is harsh. It is unforgiving and it has teeth. Take no shit.

Here is what I have learned from the world: it is wounded and the humans scattered throughout it are rarely the rats of Rat Park, they are the tired, trembling experiments in need of more kindness, not less. Do no harm.

Here's what I have learned from the world: humans are good. They are soft, and gentle, and they are wounded, all of them. When humans were young and wild, they looked at the snarling beasts that came to their fires, the ones with sharp teeth in their long muzzles, and they saw soft fur and the welcome-home wag of a tail.

Here is what I have seen: Given an opportunity, humans will choose creation and love. They will create art, and music, and community. They will tell each other stories, sing each other songs, help each other heal. Even without safety, even when it wounds them, they will love. They will love each other - their family, their friends, their mates - and they will love the world.

Here is what I have seen: there is hope. Sometimes it is ugly and twisted and burns, but humans will hold onto it with both hands and their entire heart. They will share it with one another. They will use it to tame beasts with fur and teeth as well as the ones that live inside of themselves. They will create because of it; they will say I hope this makes someone smile, I hope this makes someone cry. I hope this saves someone. And it will.

Here is what I know to be true: evidence of a healed broken bone from thousands of years ago reminds us that what makes us human isn't our wounds, but how we care for one another through them.

Here is what my mother told me: the world will gnash its sharp teeth at me. It will try to wound me.

Here is what I know to be true: I am human, and humans heal one another and can turn sharp teeth into wagging tails.

I was in line at Aldi and this girl with two toddlers in front of me had her card declined and she looked so fucking sad and said “let me call my husband real quick” and it was only 18 dollars, so I just paid for it, and she was very sweet and then as she walked off, the lady behind me said `”You know that was probably a scam, right?” and like, even if it was, like what a sad fucking scam, right? 18 dollars at the Aldi. If you’re “scamming” me for some Tyson chicken and apple juice and cauliflower, then just take my fucking money. 

“A scam” people are fucking wild.  

This happened to me, too. A woman had used WIC for the majority of her stuff (which I say from personal experience is such a long and embarrassing process) and to buy the remainder of her groceries, which included diapers and wipes, she used a card, and it got declined. I bought the other $30 of her groceries because hey, I’ve been there, and now I’m not. She was extremely emotional and began to cry and even hugged me. My mom called me on the drive home and could tell I had been crying myself, asked what was wrong, and when I told her what happened, she berated me for being “duped.” I couldn’t believe she could be so disappointed in one of her children for doing something- nice? Is that the hill you want to die on? Getting mad about people needing groceries?

I once paid for a woman’s bill at the vet…it wasn’t a big one, but she was trying to pay for some medication for her dog, and her card was declined. And her lip started trembling, and she says “I don’t get paid until Tuesday, would he be ok until then?” 

So I just told them to add the $20 something onto my bill, and I thought she was going to break down crying right there.

And I don’t care if it was a scam or not. Just do nice things for people sometimes. 

Do good recklessly.

I think “Do good recklessly” would be fantastic word art to hang on one’s wall. Artistic people, go!

So this has happened to me but from the other side. Several years ago when my oldest was around three or so, I had my debit card decline at Walmart. It wasn’t a scam or a mistake, I was genuinely broke. Out of money. I checked my bank and discovered I had something like 7 dollars left to my name and a hungry kid and nothing to eat at home. So I sat there trying to come up with the best way to stretch that tiny amount of money to feed my kid. Not even to feed me. I can live on popcorn or something if I have to but my kid was three and he had to eat. So there I am trying really hard not to cry while I slowly take things out of my basket to get it down to under 7 bucks, when a lady tapped me on the shoulder. I looked up and she smiled at me and started putting the things back in my cart. I opened my mouth to tell her that I didn’t have the money for them but she stopped me right away and said “Don’t worry about it. It’s gonna be fine.” Then she handed the cashier her credit card and said “Ring up all of it.” My kid got to eat because of her. I got to eat because of her. I had laundry soap and deodorant because of her. She could’ve just ignored me silently struggling in that line. She could’ve decided I was a scam and gone home feeling good about avoiding being duped. But instead she chose to help me and she saved us. So maybe the person struggling in front of you is trying to put one over on you or maybe they are just sad and broke and trying to figure out what to do. You get to decide which you want to believe and what you want to do. But I’ll tell y’all, no one has ever been more beautiful to me than that lady in that line who saved me and my baby. Be like her. Be beautiful.

DO BETTER. BE BETTER. STRIVE TO BE BETTER.

DO GOOD RECKLESSLY

One time, my dad and I were living the grocery store and there was a guy outside asking for money to buy some stuff to take home for his kids. It was around Christmas time. My dad asked him if he could give him groceries instead of money, and the guy immediately said yes, so my dad gave him one of everything we bought (meat, rice, some chocolates, milk, oil). At that time, my dad hadn’t gotten his paycheck because the company he worked for was going through a tough time, but he didn’t care, he saw an opportunity to help someone and he did.

Another time, my dad gave 50 bucks to a guy who said he needed to buy medicine for his kids. I told my dad he was probably going to spend the money on alcohol or something, but my dad said that “whether he was lying or not says something about HIS character, but hearing someone in need and choosing not to help when I have the means to says something about mine”.

I never forget that.

“whether he was lying or not says something about HIS character, but hearing someone in need and choosing not to help when I have the means to says something about mine”

louder, for the people in the back

Part of being a Warrior is doing good recklessly. 

-FemaleWarrior, She/They 

About a decade ago, I was trying to figure out how to put together a holiday meal for my little household, with only $7 to my name. We were joking around about it and stuff, because it’s better to laugh than cry, and this very nice older lady noticed us, and said it looked like we were having fun. I laughed, and told her what we were doing, and she insisted, then and there, on giving us $20 to help us out. We tried telling her we’d be fine, but she would not take no for an answer. It’s not the first time a stranger’s kindness has helped me during a rough time, but every time it’s happened, it’s made such a huge difference. If I refused to help out in turn when I can just because the person in need MIGHT be a scammer, it would feel like spitting on the kindness that was shown to me.

You're a dumbass who the fuck says something like that

a few months ago my friend called me and told me she was moving back up near me from 7 hours south in the middle of nowhere and asked if i would help her because she couldn’t move the furniture by herself and the town was so small there was no moving company (there were actually only 5 or six businesses in the whole town including both restaurants) and she had no one else down there to ask. 

And even though money is pretty tight for her, she told me I could name my price if I would help her, because it was so far away.

I told her she was a dummy for thinking i would take her money but that i would accept the traditional helping-a-friend-move price: a meal (i know she would feel wrong about herself if she didn’t do something for me in return, that’s just how she is) Tradition suggests pizza and beer, we opted for enchiladas and a margarita.

we crashed on the floor of the empty place and left back north in the morning - when we got back to the city three more friends met us at her storage place (the place she was moving into wouldn’t be vacant for a couple months) and we started to move all her stuff up to a storage room on the THIRD FLOOR (because large city storage places be like that)

we had just taken the first box out of the truck when the (only) lady working there walked by and told us they closed in an hour and twenty minutes, and she couldn’t stay even a little late because she had to get to her other job.

One hour twenty minutes. To completely un-jenga a large uhaul and re-tetris it back into a similar sized room on the third floor.

We all just, shared a look, took off hoodies, and got the fuck down to business. 

It was actually.. I still cherish look we passed around. The tiny eyebrow quirks and chin nods. The eye glints. The bigger breath we each took as we prepared to kick it up several gears. That moment of wordless connection, when we all just silently agreed that we were damn well going to do the impossible and didn’t even waste the time it would take to say anything, just got to it.

And we did it too. Finished with exactly two full minutes to spare. And then we all went for dinner and drinks to celebrate. And my friend’s friends that came to help? Two of them were acquaintances/friends of mine already. Like I lived with one for a year a decade ago sort of thing. But this experience? Brought us all closer. Made myself a new friend too.

And the friend i helped move? She and I are closer than ever because of it.

When i left our storage success diner to go home, she asked me again if I was sure i wouldn’t take any money.

I said “I ever tell you when I was 22 I went down to Hollywood to try that scene out? Anyway ten months later, when I just couldn’t do it anymore, and needed to come back, I called one of my best friends and said i can’t do this anymore i need to come back. You know what he said? He said: I’ll be there tomorrow. Not how much will you pay me, not what do i get out of it, not will you be able to cover my gas, just: I’ll be there tomorrow. Okay? You’re my friend. If you need help, I’m going to be there”

If helping someone move ruins your friendship, you’re doing at least one of those two things very wrong.

Reblogging for the last line

nothing has been more important to my being queer than when i went to my first pride parade, got seperated from my group, had a panic attack about it and was sitting on the side of the road holding a tiny genderfluid flag and freaking out. then this six foot five drag queen in four inch heels appeared from literally nowhere and sat down next to me. i, this scared-shitless trans bi kid at pride for the first time, very nervously told her she looked pretty and i told her my name and that i got lost and didn't feel like i should be at pride and she held my hand and said "oh, honey, everybody deserves to be here, especially you. pride is for everybody who's ever gotten lost, who's been scared of who they are or where they are. you think we never been scared before? pride's for you, honey, because you're scared. you don't have to be proud right now, but you're gonna be one day, honey, i'm sure of it."

i found my group soon after that and i never saw that queen again but to this day i am convinced i met an angel.

so yeah. pride is for you. pride is for all of us.

new fav tweet

Always be a good friend

“In one of the most notable moments in sports history, Kenyan runner Abel Mutai was just a few feet from the finish line, but became confused with the signage and stopped thinking he had completed the race.

 A Spanish athlete, Ivan Fernandez, was right behind him, and after realizing what was happening, he started shouting at the Kenyan for him to continue running; but Mutai didn't understand his Spanish. Fernandez eventually caught up to him and instead of passing him, he pushed him to victory.

A journalist asked Ivan, "Why did you do that?"

Ivan replied, “My dream is that someday we can have a kind of community life where we push and help each other to win.”

The journalist insisted “But why did you let the Kenyan win?" Ivan replied, "I didn't let him win, he was going to win.” The journalist insisted again, “But you could have won!”

Ivan looked at him & replied, “But what would be the merit of my victory? What would be the honor of that medal? What would my Mom think of that?” Values are transmitted from generation to generation. What values are we teaching our children? Let us not teach our kids the wrong ways to WIN.”

Hold the fuck on no way WW3 jokes are trending on Twitter when this is an extremely serious situation that’s threatening to destabilize an entire region. No way everyone’s gleefully looking at this as if it’s the grand show finale they’ve been waiting all along. There is no fucking way

I actually can’t right now I’m so angry. Do westerners realize that a direct Iranian attack against Israel is literally unprecedented & that this strike marks a major shift in all that’s been happening & that this is grounds for interception by the US. Does anyone realize that Iranian drones have to cross Iraq to access and strike Israel, making it an all too perfect situation for Iraq to be sucked into what could be a regional war. Does anyone realize how serious this is. We have families there.

All I ask is for you guys to take this situation with the gravity it deserves. Please don’t make jokes. Please review all updates carefully. Please try not to spread misinformation. Arabs like me have relativrd in the countries that are on the brink of getting involved in this. The US has never been kind to the SWANA region. Please please please be careful with what you say and spread.

And they actually met 😭

https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2024/04/09/solar-eclipse-new-york-teacher/

Was just informed by my mom that I do in fact have ADHD and the reason I thought I didn’t was because ever since I was seven whenever I got super energetic my mom would have me go chop wood so now when I’m feeling The ADHD I go chop wood and I thought it was just some sort of routine I started when I was little and wanted to blow off steam

I’d also like to point out that my sister has a really hard time staying present (I can’t remember the term because we’ve always called it Tethered at my house) and whenever she’s feeling Untethered my mom has her knead bread and make syrup because they’re repetitive and easy things to do that ground her

Now that I’m thinking about it- my brother has days where he doesn’t talk and doesn’t eat unless he’s prompted, and on those days my mom sits him down in the fish pond in the backyard and plays Mozart and because he’s so used to that being his wake up he always comes back in after like an hour rambling about random things

Oh yeah and when it rains my mom has a required hour where we all have to go outside and run around and whoever finds the most worms for the garden wins and then we go inside and my mom makes us tea and we watch Studio Ghibli movies

Wait!!! When one of us has a bad day at school we make a fire in the backyard and roast homemade sausages and my mom tells us stories until we laugh and then she tucks is in bed like we’re five again and sings us songs

Uh.... wait guys is my mom a witch raising a bunch of fae kids hold on-

“I didn’t know I had adhd because my mom gave me such an effective coping mechanism” is such a high bar to clear and she soared over it like a space-plane.

YOUR MOM IS AMAZING

right now on earth there’s a kindly old stray tomcat who just got adopted and he’s receiving enough food to fill his belly for the first time in his entire life and he’s so so so happy and he doesn’t even know that it’s going to be like this forever :)

the establishment fears this.

Saw an op-ed that was on the surface a complaint about kids not wanting to take on family heirlooms but read like an elegy to dying traditions. The hardest part was the anxiety without recognizing that they didn’t pave the way for the decisions they assumed their kids would make.

(This is written entirely within the dominant white/western culture - about traditions that have neglectful stewardship rather than those actively suppressed)

The anxiety makes sense. You’re seeing, too late to do anything about it, that there’s no foundation - no space - for the traditions you expected to pass on. Your kids _can’t_ take your mom’s fine china. So now instead of enjoying what you have you worry about its future.

I see a pattern in these op-eds though - a pattern in what’s left unsaid. There were responsibilities tied to these traditions. You collectively assumed they _would_ be passed along. So collectively, what did you do to ensure those traditions _could_ be passed along?

Op-eds never speak for everyone, but it’s worth acknowledging the pattern in what speech is deemed worth sharing widely.  And in this particular pattern, there’s an answer: that answer looks like “nothing.”

You want the china passed down but your kids have no room in their rentals. You want grandkids but your kids don’t have the financial stability. You want that cross-country RV neverending road trip but you’ve had decades of wanting lower taxes more than you wanted infrastructure.

The bleak outlook for traditions is a direct result of the unmaintained foundations for them. The second best time is always now - if it’s important enough to op-ed about, what are you willing to change to get it back? What will you give up or re-prioritize?

I kinda think that world-defining assumptions are always gonna break without maintenance. So rather than getting mad at whoever’s next for not carrying on the norms we didn’t do upkeep on, when it’s my turn, I hope I’m introspective enough to help instead of externalize & blame.

This.

I follow a Facebook group of “Memories of …” for my hometown - a rustbelt community that has gone from a thriving hub of industry to a much-less-thriving place.

The group is a collective lament.   Decades-old pictures of well-kept churches.  Aerial shots of the main intersection downtown, lined with big cars.    Scanned advertisemetns from local stores featuring pictures of their interiors.   These alternate with the drumbeat of news:  the Catholic diocese is closing churches.  Selling them.   Tearing them down.   STores downtown are closing.   The traffic light has been replaced with a four-way-stop.

“That’s the church my parents were married in!” “How could they tear down that beautiful building.  Such memories!” “All the businesses are closing.  It must be the taxes.” ”They’ve sold the old lodge downtown.” “They’re not opening the skating rink this year.  We always used to go.”

And sometimes I chime in. 

“Do you attend that church?  Do you give? Or do you just want the building to look pretty for you? “ “Do you volunteer at that park?  Why not?” “Did you vote for that recreation bond issue?” “Are you a member of that Lodge? Why not?” “Do you shop downtown?   Or did you start shopping at Walmart and Amazon to save a few bucks?”

If you feel something is worth preserving, why do you not participate in its preservation?  

Community is not a spectator sport.