im crying because did disney miss the part where she DIDNT WANT TO DRESS UP FOR THE CEREMONY IN THE MOVIE? NO? OK WERE GONNA IGNORE THAT.
if seinfeld was a show about video games id be george costanza
Young Teenage CEO Earning Over 100K Per Year!
17 year old Leanna Archer turned a family recipe into an international company. Archer started a line of natural hair and body care products when she was nine years old. Her mother would make a hair pomade using natural ingredients from Haiti and a secret recipe passed down from her great-grandmother. After getting multiple compliments on her hair, Leanna gave her friends a few samples of the pomade and from there the orders started pouring in. Archer is now making history earning an annual revenue of more than $100,000 per year.
As a young entrepreneur, public speaker and philanthropist. Archer has taken her experiences on the road, speaking to youth all over the country, and has been profiled in Forbes, Success Magazine, Ebony and other publications. She has been named on “Inc.” magazine’s 30 Under 30 list of top young entrepreneurs.
Check out her appearance on The Jeff Probst Show.
Image and commentary via African-American History Is AMERICAN History.
love love LOVE this! #BlackGirlsForever
im 100% here for girls revolting against ridiculous misogynist dress codes and the pieces of trash authority figures who enforce it
flip desks teresa giudice style and rip your tank top like hulk hogan in defiance
This market bag is made of woven jute produced in Bangladesh and provides 220 days of work for 21 people. By harnessing the power of a local handicraft, Apolis is able to help provide literacy courses, training on nutrition, and education awareness for Bangladeshi women.
“ I’d like to raise both of my middle fingers to him and anyone who thinks profanity is somehow more harmful to our children than images of violence and misogyny. ”
“Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?” The whisper was barely audible; her lips were an inch from his ear, her head bent so low that her long hair shielded his face from the onlookers. “Yes,” he breathed back. He felt the hand on his chest contract; her nails pierced him. Then it was withdrawn. She had sat up. “He is dead!” Narcissa Malfoy called to the watchers.
In the end, Voldemort’s fate twice came down to the choice of a woman, a mother.
Rock ‘n roll.
don’t call me babe I’ll mess you up (◡‿◡✿)
How can you look at a cultural landscape of institutionalized inequality and not be angry, right? I mean, if you’re a genuine ally and all.
And, if you are, you’ll be glad for that anger, because you know that the opposite of anger, for a progressive, is complacence—and there can be no progress if everyone is perfectly complacent with the way things are.
Progress is dependent on people who get angry, because anger—productive anger, motivating anger, directed anger, rational anger—is the root of all progress.”
“ As long as women’s natural body hair is called disgusting and inappropriate while men’s isn’t, I am a feminist.
As long as I can’t watch an episode of a popular sitcom without having to sit through multiple sexist comments or “jokes”, I am a feminist.
As long as women have to face the rational fear of being sexually assaulted every time they walk home past dark while men don’t, I am a feminist.
As long as misogyny exists in any country in this world, I am a feminist.
As long as women are being raped, then stoned to death or forced to marry their rapist, I am a feminist.
As long as companies promote men to manager when there are women who are equally as or better qualified, because they find that men look more authoritative, I am a feminist.
As long as women (her choice of clothes, her friendly nature, her weakness, her choice to drink alcohol) get blamed when men rape them, I am a feminist.
As long women’s opinions on online social networks are dismissed with phrases like “tits or gtfo”, “get back to the kitchen”, “are you pms’ing?”, I am a feminist.
As long as dressing like a women is degrading for men and as long as men are insulted with phrases like “you throw like a woman”, clearly implying that being like a woman is shameful, I am a feminist.
As long as both men are women are expected to work, but taking care of children and the household are still largely considered a woman’s job, I am a feminist.
As long as boys and girls are treated differently, expected to act differently, and surrounded by different toys and colours from the day they are born, I am a feminist.
As long as topless women aren’t allowed in public unless they’re on the cover of a men’s magazine, I am a feminist.
As long as women who have sex frequently are generally told they are “sluts”, “lacking self-respect” and “lacking morals” by both men and women, while men who frequently have sex are “just being men” and it’s “natural for them”, I am a feminist.
As long as there are places where women have to pay more for health insurance than men, I am a feminist.
As long as men experience situations with equal gender representation as female-dominated, and don’t consider a group discussion equal unless there are significantly more men then women participants (as has been proven), I am a feminist.
As long as there are men who think it’s their wife or girlfriend’s duty to have sex with him whenever he wants, I am a feminist.
As long as the word feminism (“the movement aimed at equal rights for women”) has a negative connotation, I am a feminist.
As long as misogynist people exist, I am a feminist. ”
It’s funny that the people who accuse me of looking for things to get mad about seem only to find hatred and anger in a space so filled with love.
And then there’s this: People do social justice work for a whole lot of reasons, but, generally speaking, it isn’t because they hate the world or the people in it.
When I write a post about, say, the rape culture, cloaked in vibrating anger, it isn’t because I hate the rape culture (although I certainly do); it’s because I really love people, for the most part, and I don’t want anyone, anyone, to be victimized by sexual violence, ever.
Yes, I want to dismantle the rape culture, and if it were a little box placed into my hands, I would throw it to the ground and smash it into a million bits and keep grinding those bits into dust with my fists until I was dragged away. But that is not the thing that motivates me to write about the rape culture, or any other intersecting system of oppression, every day, at no small cost to myself, until I feel sometimes like I’m swimming in a sea of shit that has no shore. What motivates me is love. Love of safety. Love of agency. Love of justice. Love of people.
“Isn’t there anything this woman likes?” ask my incredulous critics.
Yes. More than I can say. It’s there to find, if you’re really looking.”