Anon submitted:
*genitals mention tw, rape mention tw, sex mention tw*
I am an Asian cis-WOC who has a lot of frustration with the asexual community.
I’ve written about this elsewhere, but I really need white people – asexual and allosexual – to stop saying that “POC sexual attraction/behavior isn’t privileged" as a way to invalidate asexuals. This implies that asexual POC are thus privileged over allosexual POC, which is very insulting to us. Yes, POC may be judged more harshly for sexualized behavior – for example, Miley Cyrus and Lena Dunham are praised as “feminist” but Beyonce is criticized for being “too sexy” – and everyone should be aware they’re not falling into that trap.
However, hypersexualization and fetishization of POC is driven by racism, not about our sexual attraction or behavior. My features – olive skin, thick dark hair, full lips – are usually portrayed in popular culture as sexy or sensual, not pretty or beautiful or cute. Before I knew I was ace, I had intense self-loathing, particularly for sexualized body parts such as thighs and skin. I still struggle with body hatred because I don’t feel sexual but look that way.
POC bodies, NOT BEHAVIOR, are sexualized and fetishized. Stereotypes about genital size inform stereotypes of black men as hypermasculine and Asian men as effeminate. Even a wealthy, middle aged, married black woman like Michelle Obama has inappropriate media attention paid to her rear end. Asian fetishists are fascinated by rumors that Asian women have sideways vaginas or that we’re “tighter” than other women. Some people even refer to our skin color in food terms. Even when fetishization is not so blatantly anatomical, there are stereotypes about Latinx and Middle Eastern people as “naturally sensual” or Native American and indigenous people as “noble savages,” their bodies providing playgrounds for fulfillment of white sexual fantasies. This has nothing to do with our sexuality, whatever it may be, and everything to do with our race.
White aces, how would you like your race to be a popular porn category, or to have cis-het men associate your race with massage parlors, mail-order brides, and foreign sex tours?*
White people need to understand that asexual POC do not get a free pass out of sexualization and also need to stop exploiting racism to silence or bash aces – some of whom are POC(!)
Lastly, I want to address the rhetoric around sex favorability. I want white aces to think about WOC when they discuss sex favorability, compromise, and “aces can have sex too!!!!!” It is not ok to promote asexual sexual availability without also promoting asexual sexual agency.
Too often allosexuals hear “aces can have sex too!!!!” and assume that since we don’t feel sexual attraction (one definition), sex doesn’t mean anything to us, and therefore we’ll eagerly comply with their desires. I have seen them happily suggest that sex means about as much to us as eating pie, or that we do it as a chore to keep our allosexual partners happy. (Fine if you do, but this doesn’t apply to most asexuals – I suspect that most sex-enjoying asexuals enjoy it only under certain circumstances, and many of us don’t care for it at all.)
WOC are already hypersexualized, denied sexual agency due to our race and gender, and may be sought out for specifically sexual reasons (it’s harder to spot than you think, racial fetishists may deny it, or not be upfront/obvious). We don’t need another reason for people to assume our sexual availability. If the asexual community really wants to support aces of color, particularly ace WOC,** we need stop the unqualified “aces can have sex” line and instead insist that asexuals have the right to completely opt out of sex (as most of us will) or to freely choose to have it on our own terms.
*White people, now is not the time to call me “wh*rephobic” or SWERF. My problem here is not with women in the sex industry (or mail order brides for that matter), but men associating Asian women with sexual availability. This happens with other WOC too. It is racist because 1.) it generalizes about an entire racial group of women, and 2.) WOC and women from non-Western countries are overrepresented in the sex industry due to the socioeconomic effects of institutionalized racism, colonialism and exploitation. Given that men, including johns, commit the overwhelming majority of physical and sexual violence against sex workers, and that many think it’s ok to coerce or mistreat sex workers (example, assuming exotic dancers will also offer sex or sexually assaulting them), I don’t think it’s “wh*rephobic” for me to fear for my safety if a cis-het male stranger assumes I’m a sex worker.
**This is applicable to other aces, not just POC.
Author: kirkwallhellmouth
hi im a mentally ill, agender, diabetic trans kid starting college and im broke as hell and i need some help… i put the long version under the cut but here’s a donation link. if you can’t donate, a signal boost is helpful too!
i’ll also accept commissions, i might make a post for that later?? (here’s my art blog though)
pls reblog this my parents are talking like they’re gonna kick me out or something when i quit my job so i wont fail college anmd i rly need to be prepared for that
my parents literally said they wont support me anymore if i quit my job and i need to so i can focus on school. please im too mentally ill to do school and have a job but im type one diabetic and i need my meds to stay alive and them not supporting me means id have to pay for my own meds. please please please reblog this im so scared
Looked at the calendar on my phone and had the sudden and surprising realization that my birthday is slightly less than two months away.
And I’d only really just gotten good and used to being my current age, too.
Things that are awesome:
Getting complemented on my outfit (striped slacks, vest, button down shirt, and tie) by two teenagers of indeterminate age who were at the HP thing at my local library. As a gender nonconforming future teacher planning to teach teens, this felt really positive.
Things that are not awesome:
Forgetting that sometimes “don’t read the comments” should be applied to more than just news related writing.
Read a blog post about why dfab/afab people who are not trans men might want top surgery and things to consider when considering that as an option written by a woman who had gone through that process, with the inclusion of post-surgery reactions of others to her decision.
This is an idea I relate to. And many of the commenters did as well.
But there were also the comment(s) along the lines of “cutting off healthy breasts makes you a bad feminist”, “you did this for horrible reasons”, and “you were only uncomfortable with your breasts because of gender norms/expectations/stereotypes/etc, only the abolishment of gender, not surgery, will fix this problem and this article made me sad.”
So what if someone’s issues with wanting their breasts reduced or gone does have something to do with the negative impact of Western gender bullshit? If all the gender bullshit was abolished tomorrow, that wouldn’t change anything for people who have spent their whole lives dealing with it. It wouldn’t do jack shit to make them feel better. And treating people who feel this way as if they are wrong and to be pitied also changes nothing for the better and only makes things worse for them.
I think it pinged my anxiety, because I got that “ohshit” chest-tightening fight-or-flight chest pain. It didn’t last as long as it would have before I got on my current medication, but the reaction was still there. Now mostly I’m just sad and minorly pissed off, but better for having gotten the feeling off my chest. Which is a bit bitterly pun-y way to put it given the topic.
At Harry Potter thing at library. Overheard very tall teenager discussing the KotOR/SWTOR era Emperor. Initially mistook it for a Doctor Who conversation until the mention of the Great Hyperspace War.
Also amused that my phone already knows “hyperspace.”
DOLCE & GABANNA, Fall 2006.
So I was rereading Harry Potter, when I came across this and thought- what if instead of Cedric Diggory, Cassius Warrington had been chosen to compete in the Triwizard Tournament?
Imagine Dumbledore calling out the name of the Hogwarts champion and it isn’t a Gryffindor, or a Ravenclaw, or even a Hufflepuff, but it’s a Slytherin. A student from a House most people hate.
Imagine Cassius Warrington getting up, and three out of four Houses are booing at him and shouting things like “NO!” or, “We can’t have a Slytherin champion!” or demanding a retry. But he’s a Slytherin- he’s been dealing with this shit since he got sorted, so he keeps his head high and joins the other champions.
Imagine Harry trying to catch Warrington alone because he doesn’t really want to associate with Slytherins (plus Malfoy has this tendency of being around the guy ALL THE TIME since he got chosen), but at the same time he’s also fair enough not to want him to walk into the first task unprepared.
Imagine Warrington walking over to Harry a few months later, and Ron and Hermione both jump into a protective stance, wands out, but instead of attacking Harry he just tells him to stick the egg underwater. (Because Slytherins don’t forget those who helped them out).
Imagine Warrington and Harry helping each other out in the labyrinth.
Imagine Harry being devastated when Peter kills Warrington- because Voldemort doesn’t care what house they’re form, a spare is a spare.
Imagine the uproar that causes among the Slytherins, because some of their parents really are Death Eaters and they know what really happened.
Imagine Slytherins fighting in the Battle of Hogwarts and shouting “This is for Cassius!”
Imagine Harry returning with Warrington’s body, and the crowd realizes what’s happened, but Warrington’s parents don’t show up. There’s no one to mourn him, to cradle him in their arms and cry for their son. The Slytherins know why. His parents were Death Eaters, too.
Imagine Slytherins reaching out, asking for help from classmates from other houses. They’re terrified, truly terrified because the being their parents claimed would never hurt them because they’re pureblood, they realize that he does not care.
Imagine Slytherins in the 5th book sneaking off to join Dumbledore’s Army, to learn more about who Voldemort is without their parents acting as a filter.
Imagine the shock when they’re told what he’s really done.
Imagine that a few talented Slytherins went with Harry and the others into the Ministry of Magic. The others are a bit wary but they prove themselves as friends.
Imagine them being confronted by Lucius Malfoy in the the Hall of Prophecy, and when the Death Eaters descend, they know that any one of them could be their parents.
Imagine the shocked gasp of a Death Eater as they realize their own child, a pureblood, is standing defiantly with Harry Potter. They choke back a cry. They can’t let their child know that they were about to duel to the death.
Imagine a DA Slytherin facing off against their own Death Eater parent. That they make the decision to let their child defeat them, because in that moment, they realize that they love their child more than they fear Voldemort. They go down, mask unveiled, and the Slytherin kid has to be dragged from the fight before he gets killed.
Imagine Book 6 Slytherins getting more friendly and cooperative with the other houses. Two years of Voldemort terrorizing the muggle and Wizarding world, two years where their parents just up and leave some days, cringing from the pain in their arm, two years after the death of the first Slytherin pureblood, Cassius Warrington, killed by Voldemort’s right-hand man, and they’re slowly hitting the breaking point.
Imagine Slytherin kids keeping tabs on their parents, sending the information to Harry, who shares it with the Order of the Phoenix, and hoping that their parents won’t be killed.
Imagine Book 7 Slytherins low-key rebelling against the new oppressive Hogwarts staff.
Imagine the final siege on Hogwarts, where Slytherins stand proudly by their fellow houses, knowing full-well they could be fighting their own parents. Some Slytherins know their parents were in the fighting. They hope to find them first and sneak them away. Their fellow students understand. Professor McGonagall allows 7th Year Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson, to duel a death eater in her stead; her father is under that veil. She knows it.
Imagine the aftermath of the battle; every house suffered loses. Slytherin students crying over the deaths of friends they made in every house.
Imagine
a Cassius Warrington statue made in his honor, the first Slytherin to fight and die nobly with Harry Potter, the boy who lived, in the face of ultimate evil. He was a true Slytherin, and it’s in his name that Slytherin children and their families have cut all ties with the Death Eaters, denounced Voldemort, and are finally living in peace.
#i do enjoy cedric #but this would have been immensely wonderful in many ways (via batty4u)
Imagine a story in which Harry wasn’t in love with his fellow champion’s girlfriend, but after her boyfriend’s death just hugs her so long, so hard, and says “he wanted to win for you. You should know–you should know he won, he did it for you” and gives her the best hug and shoulder he knows how to be because her parents aren’t there either and she must know why.
Imagine Harry staring over her head at everyone else until Hermione steps up–it doesn’t take long, but it takes long enough that when she does all eyes are on her as a source of motion–and says “we’re never going to forget this. They’re not going to get away with it” and the girlfriend just latches onto Hermione and everyone is in wands-out stance convinced she’s about to attack the shit out of Hermione, and then the girlfriend stares into her eyes and says “do you promise me” and Hermione just gives her this super-firm nod and says “I promise” and the girlfriend just collapses on her, sobbing.
Imagine Dumbledore trying to give some flowery speech about inter-wizard solidarity while glossing over why, because Slytherins have always been a touchy subject, and Ron gets to his feet and says “Professor, I need to say something important” and Dumbledore is so surprised he just cedes the floor, and Ron–after that awkward moment when he realizes everyone is staring at him–says he didn’t know Warrington particularly, but he knows how Warrington and Harry played. That each was always cheering on the other. Both wanted to win, but neither was willing to undercut the other by underhanded means. He finishes up saying “I think–I think it’s important everyone should know he died being what a champion should be. Because he could have abandoned Harry and instead he stood up with him to play the game the honest way, and he died for it. And–and Slytherin House should be proud, and we should all be proud, because Warrington was a good bloke.” He sits back down all flustered because he didn’t actually stand up meaning to make a speech. And then Pansy Parkinson stands up before Dumbledore can take back control of the room and says “I want to tell Weasley thank you.” And all of Slytherin House raises a glass–to Warrington, to Weasley, to Potter–and the other houses follow suit. Many years later, Wizarding scholars will say that was the moment Voldemort truly lost.
Imagine later that summer. Harry gets several owls on his birthday, all unsigned. The birds are plump and pretentious and well-cared-for. He will never know which Slytherins sent him their treasures: parchments with hexes developed by the Death Eaters; a strange locket that will only open if he whispers a special spell but that always shows him the picture he most needs to see; a page torn from a potions book that, brewed properly, will allow him extra time to summon a Patronus by giving him a few crucial seconds not just of happiness but of bliss. It doesn’t matter. Harry knows these gifts not as birthday gifts but for what they really are, and he treasures the locket and copies out the potion to send to Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, and when first summoned by the Order of the Phoenix he marches straight up to Dumbledore with the hexes and says “I can’t tell you where I got these, Professor. But they’re in use by the Death Eaters and I think you should have them.” Months later, Sirius will recognize the spell Bellatrix shoots at him, and will dive out of the way just in the nick of time.
The final battle. Everyone is there. Sirius somehow ends up herding a group of Slytherins. They all stare at him and he at them, across a centuries-old divide Voldemort has only succeeded in deepening. Then he remembers the hexes. Harry’s locket, now tucked under Sirius’ shirt because Harry’s friends are with him in this battle but most of Sirius’ are dead. The moment that happiness potion saved Remus’ life, his very soul. Snape’s final words to Harry, finally seen not as mockery but real true advice. What Harry said Voldemort said–his first words in his new form. They are kids, and they are sharing the same kind of hurt he once wouldn’t admit to, watching his mother burn his name off the family tree. “When we go in there, it’s going to be hell,” he tells the Slytherins. “Some of you are probably going to die. I might go down too, and if I do I want your best curser in the front. But I want you all to remember one thing. There are no spares.” Later retellings of the battle never fail to mention the moment a group of angry, screaming teens burst into the Great Hall, wearing their green and silver as the badge of honor it should be, shouting NO SPARES, NO SPARES at the tops of their voices in between hexes and curses and the occasional physical punch. When Hermione is present, she always interrupts the storyteller to be sure everyone knows about the moment Blaise Zabini shoved her to the floor, dropped on top of her, fired off three curses in rapid succession and said “stay alive, Granger, we need you” before jumping back to his feet and vanishing into the melee–how, for all anyone knows, those may have been his last words, and she will not let his sacrifice go unnoted.
The aftermath. Malfoy holds out a hand to Sirius, badly injured on the floor. Sirius asks how Malfoy is willing to trust him. Malfoy nods at his chest. “You’ve got my godfather’s locket,” he says, and when Sirius and Harry finally speak after the battle Harry gives his full agreement to the very first thing out of Sirius’ mouth. They give the locket to Malfoy. Sirius grits his teeth and closes his eyes and opens them and says “He probably saved my life, giving Harry that.” He doesn’t say thank you. Malfoy hears it anyway.
The school reopens under a single banner: the four Houses united. The House rivalry is reduced to just that–a competition in fun–with those deep divides slowly healing to scars, and eventually away to nothing at all.
Imagine it.
Kirkwall Was Totally Built On a Hellmouth 