Photoshopping does more than alter our sense of body image in terms of weight. It also portrays false ideals of skin pigment.
One of the (many, many) reasons that I love Pratchett is that he’s so good about gender equality. I mean, pretty much the entire witch series fails the reverse Bechdel test, and the female characters are just as awesome and flawed as the male, and the only thing you could say is…
Media representation is important, but if it’s done for the sole sake of making a point of how progressive the creators are, it’s insulting and people will see that for what it is.
Tokenism is just as bad as no representation. If the only gay character in your media is a ‘gay stereotype’, and the only non-white character is the ‘sassy black woman’, the ‘studious Asian’, the ‘greedy Jew’, etc, that’s just… not progressive.
I’m reblogging this again because I love the message behind it and I think it needs to be passed on.
My mother let us choose. My brother and I decided that religion just wasn’t for us. She reacted neutrally and we were not baptised, nor did we make our first holy communion.
My sister chose religion. She woke my mum up every Said “its time to go to church”. She was baptised at 8 years old when she was able to do it for herself, read the relevant parts herself, and knew the choices she was making rather than it being made for her. And she was so happy. Religion should be a choice, and one that you are fully consenting and happy to make.
She’s now 12 and she still has the cross that was a gift at her baptism above her bed, and still reads her little bible from time to time. She doesn’t attend church any more, because she doesn’t feel that church is necessary to have a god.
I am an atheist, as I have stated. But I’m here for her if she ever wants to talk to me about her religion and all things associated.
That is how religion should be. For everyone.
"no one man should have all that power" says kanye solemnly
beyonce kicks her leg over her head “i am no man”
u wake up on christmas morning and go downstairs, full of excitement. somebody is stealing all of your christmas presents. it is jesus. “its my birthday, not yours” he hisses menacingly, then runs away with all your gifts in his arms