“The landscape of theatre is an interesting one to me, as a place that has been open to white male queer bodies, rarely do we look it as a place that needs to be critiqued in its handling of individuals that don’t fall into the white cis male parameters.” I think it’s that caution to critique that has theatre in a stagnant state, though. People see theatre as this thing that’s for the underdogs or the outcasts to come and find a home, but look at the stage. The way that it’s functioning right now, it seems unlikely that a Black person, let alone a Black queer person, could go to the theatre and see a community that they’d assume would openly embrace themselves. The thing about being ahead of the game is that you have to stay ahead of the game for it to matter. So what if the theatre accepted white cis gay men in the 70s if Black queer women don’t feel like they have a place in 2015? The past is only useful to us as a catalyst for better theatre in the future; right now it feels like we’re stuck in the past.
That’s how the whole episode went — any time I would get hopeful, they would let me down again.
School has the potential to be a transformative place for LGBT youth where they learn about the world and themselves, so they can go into the world as empowered, thoughtful adults. Unfortunately, it also has the potential to be a scary and unsafe place where LGBT youth’s worst fears about their identities are confirmed by students and staff alike. Individual educators committed to supporting LGBT youth can be a big part of the difference between the two.
t you to practice saying the following: “Are you really asking me about my underwear right now?” With most people, this will stop them. Very fast. Because then they will realize what they are doing. If they continue, you can follow up with some variation on: “I prefer to only discuss my underwear with someone I am dating.” or “I don’t really care to talk about my underwear with anyone.”
The feasibility of being Xena Warrior Princess when we grow up
…the first step in getting through, as you call it, “the urge to shrivel up and die” is to accept that even though they are sometimes terrible feelings will not actually make you shrivel up and die. They just happen, and you keep on living, and they keep on happening, and you keep on living, and that’s the way it works.
Rachel Kincaid, here (via lintilla4eva)
I’m going to write a song for you titled, “It Is OK To Break Up With This Person” and I’m gonna stand outside on your street at night and sing it over and over and over again. The chorus will be like, “It’s ok to break up with this person, dear heart! / You have the answers inside of yourself and wanting to be happy is reason enough!” It won’t rhyme because it’ll be a progrock experimental thing and I’ll make up for the lack of rhyming with laser sounds and cat noises.
Here’s a true thing about this life: you deserve to be excited about it. You deserve to come hard with another person. You deserve to care about your feelings and your happiness. When you think about the impact you’re making on another person’s life, you deserve an unbroken heart. You deserve your fantasies. You deserve your truth, whatever it is.
If you’re interested in weeping for about two hours, I cannot recommend a better dark room in which to do so than a movie theater screening Freeheld.
Today is when you stop having achy heart feelings for this person! Right now Shane is a shell of herself. She’s not living her best life and she’s not even trying to. You’re not having achy heart feelings for a whole real person — you’re having achy heart feelings for the idea of a person you’ve imagined up in your own head. Don’t do that! Think of Shane as a character in a book that you could write if you wanted to — you’ve probably done a great job with the details and some swoon-worthy traits. But even if you wrote a million books, that character would still be made-up, and you wouldn’t be any closer to dating them. Shane is not real.
