Sisters of the Yam

Although most of the issues brought to light here pertain to Africa(ns), this is a blog about culture and world issues.
Hopefully you see some interesting stuff and learn a thing or two.

Tornadoisland is my personal blog. It's not too serious and pretty neat

From a fandom and wondering what this politics blog is doing following you?
This is the reason why

thepeoplesrecord:

Indian feminists/activists respond to Harvard kids attempting to help the less fortunate ‘third world’ feminists
February 25, 2013

Globally, from the U.S. to the developing world, rape and other forms of violence against women remain at shockingly high levels. Focusing on the horrifying case of a 23-year-old Indian student who was gang-raped and beaten to death in Delhi in December, the Harvard College Women’s Center announced it would create a Beyond Gender Equality task force, “convened to offer recommendations to India and other South Asian countries in the wake of the New Delhi gang rape and murder.”

The group ignored the long history of Indian activists themselves fighting to end rape and sexual violence—including recent mass protests of South Asian women and men calling for a systemic fight against rape. And the Harvardites had nothing to say about the ample evidence of the problem of rape in the U.S.—from the sickening gang rape and subsequent cover-up at Steubenville High School in Ohio, to the systematic downplaying of rape and sexual assault at Amherst College and other universities.

In response to this “white (wo)man’s burden” take on the issue of sexual violence in South Asia, a group Indian feminists wrote the following response, first published at Kafila.org, detailing their own years of work fighting to end rape and gain justice sexual assault victims.

— — — — — — —

Dear sisters (and brothers?) at Harvard,
WE’RE A group of Indian feminists and we are delighted to learn that the Harvard community—without doubt one of the most learned in the world—has seen fit to set up a policy task force entitled “Beyond Gender Equality” and that you are preparing to offer recommendations to India (and other South Asian countries) in the wake of the New Delhi gang rape and murder.

Not since the days of Katherine Mayo have American women—and American feminists—felt such a concern for their less privileged Third World sisters. Mayo’s concern, at that time, was to ensure that the Indian state (then the colonial state) did not leave Indian women in the lurch, at the mercy of their men, and that it retained power and the rule of the just.

Yours, we see, is to work towards ensuring that steps are put in place that can help the Indian state in its implementation of the recommendations of the Justice Verma Committee, a responsibility the Indian state must take up.

This is clearly something that we, Indian feminists and activists who have been involved in the women’s movement here for several decades, are incapable of doing, and it was with a sense of overwhelming relief that we read of your intention to step into this breach.

You might be pleased to know that one of us, a lawyer who led the initiative to put pressure on the Justice Verma Committee to have a public hearing with women’s groups, even said in relief, when she heard of your plans, that she would now go on holiday and take a plane ride to see the Everest.

Indeed, we are all relieved, for now we know that our efforts will not have been in vain: the oral evidence provided by 82 activists and organizations to the Justice Verma Committee—and which we believe substantially contributed to the framing of their report—will now be in safe American hands!

Perhaps you are aware that the Indian state has put in place an “Ordinance on Sexual Assault” that ignores many recommendations of the Justice Verma Committee? If not, we would be pleased to furnish you a copy of the Ordinance, as well as a chart prepared by us, which details which recommendations have been accepted and which not.

This may be useful in your efforts to advise our government. One of the greatest things about sisterhood is that it is so global—feminism has built such strong international connections, such that whenever our First World sisters see that we are incapable of dealing with problems in our countries, they immediately step in to help us out and provide us with much needed guidance and support. We are truly grateful for this.

Perhaps you will allow us to repay the favor, and next time President Obama wants to put in place legislation to do with abortion or the Equal Rights Amendment, we can step in and help, and, from our small bit of experience in these fields, recommend what the United States can do.

Source (with signatures)

(via forgetpolitics)

The board game “Monopoly” was originally invented in the early 20th century to warn players of the dangers of free market capitalism. The original title was “The Landlord Game,” made to show how property owners exploit their tenants with exorbitant rent. The game eventually evolved to include rules that let players charge higher rent if they owned all the railroads or the utility companies. But the endgame scenario of Monopoly is a lot like the endgame of capitalism that we’re witnessing today - no matter how the game starts, the wealth will eventually accumulate in the hands of one player, while the other players have to sell off their property to pay their debt to the owner and, eventually, lose everything they have.

Do you know how many of my students can’t even say the word white? You all will talk about African-Americans, Latinos, and Asian-Americans all day long but at soon as it comes time to say white peoples’ voices drop. You ain’t have seen that? Come on man, people come up with crazy terms you have never seen before, they would be like: “And that Caucasoid…” You can always tell, you could always tell where the supreme power rests in the society because of the reluctance people have in naming that power.

Part of what privilege requires, guys privilege cannot operate without silence. It cannot operate without silence, and this tremendous silence around whiteness, if you are foolish enough to post a blog on your Facebook that mentions whiteness the amount of attacks that you will get, because privilege defends itself viciously, to maintain the silence that is required for its operation.

So, given this I would argue that the other thing that we need to do is coming off of James Scott’s idea of “anarchist calisthenics,” we need to practice racial anarchist calisthenics. What he, what Scott meant by anarchist calisthenics is that this society has ton of little rules that we all practice without thinking. And he argues that we need to practice breaking little rules consistently because one day this society is going to ask you to prosecute a horrifying rule, that I think we will long live to regret, and the muscles of resistance needs to be exercised, they need to be prepared for the time we need to make that big, big, big, big stand.

And so racial anarchist calisthenics, I would say, begins with all of us getting that tongue muscle back in to place and saying Saurons name. I challenge people; I challenge people every time you say African-American, Asian-American, whatever the group count it and say white just as much. And say white just as much. We don’t do it you guys, we don’t do it, we don’t do it. And yet if we were ever going to confront in a real way white supremacy, which is not only linked to white folks you guys. White supremacy is the racial order in all of us, but if we are not able to discuss whiteness as a category, as a critical way of looking at the world and even simply as just the racial group, we are in some serious trouble. The reality is even if we took every white person on Earth and put them on a space ship and sent them to outer space white supremacy wouldn’t miss a beat.

Junot Díaz - Facing Race (2012)

(via black-culture)

thepoliticalnotebook:

This is this year’s World Press Photo of the Year for 2012, taken by Paul Hansen of the Swedish newspaper Dagens Nyheter. It’s a photo taken on November 20th of the funeral of two Palestinian children in Gaza City. The children are brothers: two-year-old Suhaib Hijazi and his older brother Muhammad. They were killed in an Israeli missile strike, which hit their house. Their father’s body is also being carried further back in the picture.

This is a very tough photo and I had a small debate over whether or not to post it on here. Not because of controversy related to Israel vs. Palestine in contemporary politics, but because this is a picture of two very small, dead children and the grief that surrounds their death. It is a heartrending and personal moment, and often on here I choose not to post images that are graphic or of dead bodies, out of respect to both my readers’ preferences and to the subjects of the photos. I decided to post this one for a few reasons. It won the award, making it now a very public photo which many will see and discuss. Primarily, though, I chose to post it because I think everything about this picture is important and that it’s supposed to be seen because we are not often enough treated to a visual understanding of life as a Palestinian under occupation in Gaza or the West Bank. It matters that this photo exists for us to see and think about and it matters that we see suffering of this nature. If you are displeased that I’ve shown this photo (for reasons not including some incensed assumption that by showing you Palestinian children killed by Israeli missiles that I must support Hamas or hate anyone who is Jewish, because neither is true or makes sense), I’m sorry for showing you something you did not want to see. It was genuinely because I think it’s important that you see it.

[Via NBC]

I appreciated this photo because of the representation it gives the subjects.
It displays the humanity of the Middle-Eastern man that a lot of western media suppresses.
Seeing the grief and anger situated in the intolerable circumstance allows for a point of contact to be drawn and the emergence of cross-border sympathy (note: not pity).

paper-dragons:

The Mansoojat Foundation

The Mansoojat Foundation is a UK registered charity founded by a group of Saudi women with a passionate interest in the traditional ethnic textiles and costumes of Arabia.

Where We Go In The Future Is Determined
By Where We Have Been In The Past.

The Mansoojat Foundation’s mission is to revive and preserve the traditional ethnic designs and costumes of the various regions of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia; to promote and conduct academic research important for the understanding of the history and culture of the region, and to raise public awareness for the appreciation of this unique heritage.

(via forgetpolitics)

This is hella long and I never update to tumblr but I have never experienced so many white tears in my entire LIFE.

Tl;dr? I will not vote for a white, male, able-bodied individual as my VP Equity because that individual will not and can not fight for my equity on campus and white people lost their damn minds.

I don’t care what Black women’s bodies represent to America. I only care what they represent to Black women. America has not included Black women in its ideal of what is beautiful. And when they do, it’s a select few of us. There’s Halle, Queen Latifah, perhaps Janet Jackson and Vivica. But you don’t have Molly Jefferson down in Mississippi or Shaquana Gilbert in the projects. And today, with the collagen in the lips and the booty, that’s not about Black women’s bodies. It’s all been decolorized, and we’re meant to think that there is something even more beautiful in a White woman with large breasts, huge hips and big lips.


So it’s of absolutely no significance what America thinks of our bodies. The problem is getting Black women to recognize that fact.

Iyanla Vanzant  - Bump, Grind, Twist & Celebrate, Naked: Black Women Bare All About Their Skin, Hair, Hips, Lips and Other Parts (via preciousdivineenergy)

(via black-culture)

fuckyeahlesbianliterature:

[image description: a photo of Staceyann Chin. She is black and has a large afro. She is looking at the camera with her hand pressed together with the index fingers resting against her lips. End description.]

womenwhokickass:

Staceyann Chin: Why she kicks ass

  • She is an openly lesbian spoken word poet, performing artist and LGBTQ rights activist.
  • She is of Chinese-Jamaican and Afro-Jamaican descent, was born in Jamaica and now lives in Brooklyn.
  • You can see one of her many powerful performances here
  • Her work has been published in the New York Times, the Washington Post, and the Pittsburgh Daily, and has been featured on 60 Minutes.
  • She has a child and you can read about her experiences being pregnant here.
  • She performed in and co-wrote the Tony-nominated Russell Simmons Def Poetry Jam on Broadway.
  • She has held worldwide poetry workshops.
  • She has many books and CDs and also an autobiographical novel, “The Other Side of Paradise - A Memoir”.
  • She is a host on Logo’s After Ellen Internet show, “She Said What?” and a co-host of Centric’s My Two Cents.

(via dqueerafricans)

ghanailoveyou:

Kaneshie market in Ghana (by CrittersWorldTour)

(via black-culture)

warsanshire:

your old anthem burns a hole in stomach

i am the daughter of immigrants

my home is a home of longing

i am swollen with language i cannot afford to forget

i am homesick for a home i have never lived in

last night i dreamt of you

your warm mouth on the soles of my feet

you were humid

your palms flat on my bare shoulders

you carried me home

my mothers village

my fathers first kiss

dear god,

was this what belonging felt like

my god,

i’d never wanted anything so bad.

sarraounia:

Pokou Princesse Ashanti, the first 3D animation movie from Cote d’Ivoire produced by Afrikatoon.

Synopsis: Abla Poku is an eighteenth-century Princess from the kingdom of the Ashanti people. She is an influential advisor to King Opokou Ware. One day, she learns that the King’s best friend, Kongouê Bian is plotting a coup against him to take the throne. Poku, refusing to see a war between her people uses her charisma and mystical powers to avoid the conflict. She unfortunately fails and is forced to live under the regime imposed by Kongouê Bian. Refusing to live under his rule, she chooses exile. Despite her departure, the current King decides to chase her, following a prophecy stating that a woman will lead the kingdom, something he doesn’t want to see happen.

Abla Poku or Abena Pokua, Abraha Poukou or Aura Poku is a Princess who existed. She is known among the Ashanti people and is part of the History of Côte d’Ivoire where she is considered the mother of the Baoulé people, one of the main Ivorian ethnic groups.

Release date: Summer 2013.

I’ve needed this for so long

(via spawnofhumanbeings)

anotherafrica:

RURAL STREET STYLE #21
ETHIOPIA

Surma warrior near Turgit. Photo Eric Lafforgue.

Image courtesy of the artist via flickr. All rights reserved

(via bad-dominicana)

For one thing, the idea that there is only one right way of doing English – and everyone else is doing it wrong – is inherently flawed. And by “flawed” I mean illogical, elitist and even oppressive. Judgements about what counts as “right”, “good” and “correct” in writing and grammar always – ALWAYS – align with characteristics of the dialects spoken by privileged, mostly wealthy, mostly white people. We make these judgements based on learned biases, as well as a certain emotional attachment to our own way of doing things. But when people study dialects in an objective, scientific way (which is what cunning linguists actually do), they find that low-prestige dialects, such as African-American Vernacular English or Cockney English, have fully-formed grammar rules of their own that make just as much sense as any others. They are perfectly valid and functional forms of communication used by millions of people. The only difference is that they don’t have people running around telling everyone else to do it their way.

nickturse:

Americans in Vietnam never seemed to run out of ways to burn things down, whether it be flame tanks, flame boats, napalm canisters dropped from planes, helicopters armed with white phosphorus rockets, or simply ground troops with zippo cigarette lighters.  The means were seemingly endless.    

Photographer: Co Rentmeester