As a nation, we’re slowly realizing that whole, fresh foods are good for you and that cooking at home can save you money and provide you with better nutrition. Overall, this is a great trend. But this shift in culture has begun to produce a toxic byproduct: better-than-thou attitudes and judgments about low-income people’s decisions and choices about food.
“Privilege” is a word you’ll hear often in social justice spaces, both offline and online. Some people understand the concept easily. Others – and I was like this – find the concept confusing and need a little more help. If you’re willing to learn about privilege, but you don’t know where to start, you’ve come to the right place! Here are the basics.
The work being done at feminist nonprofits and other organizations working for social change is necessary work; it can be very satisfying work as well. Unfortunately, as many idealistic activists have found, too many of these organizations have dysfunctional or toxic work environments. So what can you do if you’re working in a toxic social justice organization?
Let’s face it: Most white people don’t like being accused of racism or hearing that they have white privilege. For too long, whites have only heard about racism in the context of what not to do. Rarely, if ever, do white people hear about how they can be proactive about the issue. But there are simple steps whites can take towards becoming allies, not bystanders.
As a black woman, I feel like there’s this unsaid pressure that I have to limit my sexual actions and expressions simply because there are so many prevailing stereotypes about black women’s bodies. Slavery is regularly employed as a framework to talk about black women’s sexual bodies today. And we need to curb this trend. Here are three reasons why.
The media we consume can impact the way we see our own bodies, our perspectives on races, cultures, sexualities, and genders. It’s disheartening to see the media prioritizing the stories of only a set group of people. It is absolutely essential that we continually call for improvement. So how can we to do that? Here are three things we must demand from media.
Think about the last time you called someone crazy (to their face or behind their back). What message were you trying to send? I’m sure it wasn’t a positive one. Was the “crazy” person a woman? I wouldn’t be shocked. It would be hypocritical of me to shame you for it, because we’ve all done it. That’s why it’s important that we discuss it now.
We need more men to understand how the messages we receive about sex hurt more than women — that these messages hurt us in myriad ways, too. It’s time that we name the ways that patriarchy teaches men to pursue unhealthy sexuality in ways that hurt everyone. Thus, I want to analyze four of the most prominent messages men are taught about our sexuality.
It’s a natural desire to want to give your opinion on something. We all want to think that our perspective matters – and oftentimes, it does. But sometimes it doesn’t. And we don’t always think about the implications of our words. So, what do you do when you get called out for saying something problematic – and you totally “didn’t mean it like that?”
I always knew I was different from the other boys. As a toddler, I cried when my hair was cut short. I preferred girls for friends, bright colors for clothes, and dolls for toys. When I was 8 years old, I announced that I was a girl. I started to wear dresses to school. Not only was I the first openly trans* youth in my county, I was the first openly trans* person.