A place for social work-related thoughts, feelings, data, articles, info and my main blog about my journey to an MSW.

Current student status:
Enrolled at San Jose State University
San Jose, CA
Children, Youth, Families Concentration
Title IV-E Stipend Recipient

Twitter: @SWmusings
Background Illustrations provided by: http://edison.rutgers.edu/

Sunday Stanza #10

Sisters
By: Lucille Clifton


me and you be sisters.
we be the same.

me and you
coming from the same place.

me and you
be greasing our legs
touching up our edges.

me and you
be scared of rats
be stepping on roaches.

me and you
come running high down purdy street one time
and mama laugh and shake her head at
me and you.

me and you
got babies
got thirty-five
got black
let our hair go back
be loving ourselves
be loving ourselves
be sisters.

only where you sing,
I poet.

archiemcphee:

Something awesome recently happened in Istanbul, Turkey. As a city with many hills, Istanbul is home to lots of long staircases that intersect its centuries-old neighbourhoods, enabling pedestrians to avoid streets filled with heavy car traffic.

Last week Huseyin Cetinel, a retired forestry engineer, decided to paint the stairs connecting the neighbourhoods of Findikli and Cihangir all the colors of the rainbow.

"He told the local news media that his original motivation for applying a fresh coat of paint to the stairs was not activism, but the desire “to make people smile.” Mr. Cetinel said he spent nearly $800 on paint and devoted four days to sprucing up the stairs, with help from his son-in-law.”

Public reaction to the colourful stairs was overwhelmingly positive. People turned out in droves to pose for photos on the cheerful staircase. Some decided it was a gesture of support and call for equal rights for the city’s LGBTQ community.

But then sometime strange happened. Just a few days after Huseyin finished beautifying the staircase, residents woke up to discover that overnight the city had hastily re-painted the rainbow steps a dull, disheartening gray. The gray cover-up was so secret and sudden that locals took it very personally. It was interpreted as “a sign of intolerance and a lack of respect for their right to claim public space.”

Speaking to Turkish television reporters after the stairs were painted over, Mr. Cetinel pointed out that all of nature — “cats, birds, flowers, mountains” — is brightly colored. “Where does this gray come from?” he asked. “Did we have another Pompeii and got flooded with ash?”

What happened next is what’s really awesome. Residents began to organize with each other via twitter and soon, not only were Huseyin Cetinel’s stairs returned to their rainbow glory, but - as a sign of solidarity - entirely different stairways all over the city, and eventually in other Turkish cities as well, were painted too.

Click here to view more photos of Istanbul’s new rainbow staircases.

[via Street Art Utopia and The New York Times]

Reblogged from medievalpoc  72 notes
Hi, I was wondering if you could recommend me some academic books on poc in Northern Europe? Despite having taken a lot of courses on medieval society none of my professors mentioned the existence of poc and I'd really like to fix the gaps in my knowledge. Sorry if you've made a post about this already, I'm not great at navigating tumblr.

medievalpoc:

katebishopismysoulsister:

medievalpoc:

Resources

Oh my god this is amazing! Thank you!

THE FACT THAT YOU ARE EXCITED MAKES ME EXCITED

THANK YOU

Sunday Stanza #9

Imagine a Woman I
By: Patricia Lynn Reilly


Imagine a woman who believes it is right and good she is a woman.
A woman who honors her experience and tells her stories.
Who refuses to carry the sins of others within her body and life.

Imagine a woman who trusts and respects herself.
A woman who listens to her needs and desires.
Who meets them with tenderness and grace.

Imagine a woman who acknowledges the past’s influence on the present.
A woman who has walked through her past.
Who has healed into the present.

Imagine a woman who authors her own life.
A woman who exerts, initiates, and moves on her own behalf.
Who refuses to surrender except to her truest self and wisest voice.

Imagine a woman who names her own gods.
A woman who imagines the divine in her image and likeness.
Who designs a personal spirituality to inform her daily life.

Imagine a woman in love with her own body.
A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is.
Who celebrates its rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.

Imagine a woman who honors the body of the Goddess in her changing body.
A woman who celebrates the accumulation of her years and her wisdom.
Who refuses to use her life-energy disguising the changes in her body and life.

Imagine a woman who values the women in her life.
A woman who sits in circles of women.
Who is reminded of the truth about herself when she forgets.

Imagine yourself as this woman.

Sunday Stanza #8

Still I Rise
Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you? 
Why are you beset with gloom? 
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken? 
Bowed head and lowered eyes? 
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you? 
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you? 
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs? 

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise. 

 

Reblogged from humanrightswatch  615 notes
humanrightswatch:

Hungary’s War on the Homeless
A ban on dumpster diving. Fines for picking up discarded items in the streets. Proposals for homeless-free zones. Hungary’s ‘war on the homeless’ appears to be picking up steam.
Now that Hungary’s constitution allows for the criminalization of the homeless, it was only a matter of time before a local government banned them from public areas. This summer a district in Budapest did just that, issuing a decree prohibiting “residential habitation” (living in public places), banning “dumpster-diving,” and taking unwanted items left on the streets for disposal by the authorities. Offenders face fines of up to 150,000 Hungarian forints (US$655), community service or even jail sentences for repeated violations. In other words, homeless people with nowhere else to go are now targeted as criminals for being poor.
Read more.
Photo: A homeless man sleeps in an underpass at Budapest’s Western railway station on January 20, 2005. © 2005 Reuters

humanrightswatch:

Hungary’s War on the Homeless

A ban on dumpster diving. Fines for picking up discarded items in the streets. Proposals for homeless-free zones. Hungary’s ‘war on the homeless’ appears to be picking up steam.

Now that Hungary’s constitution allows for the criminalization of the homeless, it was only a matter of time before a local government banned them from public areas. This summer a district in Budapest did just that, issuing a decree prohibiting “residential habitation” (living in public places), banning “dumpster-diving,” and taking unwanted items left on the streets for disposal by the authorities. Offenders face fines of up to 150,000 Hungarian forints (US$655), community service or even jail sentences for repeated violations. In other words, homeless people with nowhere else to go are now targeted as criminals for being poor.

Read more.

Photo: A homeless man sleeps in an underpass at Budapest’s Western railway station on January 20, 2005. © 2005 Reuters