This cat has his shit figured out.
One day I aspire to give as few fucks as this cat does.
This cat is amazing
So, I need this cat. This cat is me. We have to find each other and become whole. FACT!
gpoy as a cat
(via philosophy-of-praxis)
are we still on this bootstrap shit?
Regarding this financial aid wank going around my dash:
I’ve worked in FA off and on for like, the last 5 or so years (most recently as an FA counselor at a for-profit, at least until I moved back east and became funemployed) and quite honestly the average person has no fucking clue how higher ed financing works in the US. Even supergenius college juniors who have filled out their FAFSA all by themselves for three years~ People hollering “BOOTSTRAPS!!!!11” understand even less. First of all, there is a difference between loans and grants. All that “free money” people think is being thrown at poor POC by Uncle Sam isn’t necessarily free. Certain programs have strings attached. And you can kiss your federal aid goodbye if you get busted on a drug-related offense (bear in mind who is disproportionately affected by the War on Some Drugs again?). There is a method to which you can qualify again for loans but you won’t ever be able to get a grant again regardless.
I can also testify to the white whine on this subject. I experienced it on a near-daily basis. My job was done 99% over the phone and email, so almost none of my students ever saw me. I have a bland WASPy name and manner of speaking, so I’m frequently assumed white over the phone. And let me tell you, the shit I heard from colorstruck white parents when they thought they had a sympathetic ear was disgusting. I had one parent, after we went over her son’s award letter, go off about minorities. This woman made a shit ton of money in real estate and her husband made 6 figures as the owner of a construction business and she was absolutely livid that her son didn’t qualify for need-based aid. She went on a tirade about how “if we were blacks or illegals on welfare we’d get all the money we wanted”. Direct quote.
The truth is, I did a lot of research into scholarships, due to working at a for-profit (which has obscenely high tuition compared to state and private non-profits). Many if not most of the students I worked with were low income, a lot were the first in their family to go past high school. Of all races. And let me tell you, it was exceptionally easy to find money for my white students, all they needed was the wherewithal to apply. That figure about most scholarships being available to white students is right on point from my experience. Not just the ethnic-based ones such as for Polish, Italian, etc. students. There aremetric fucktons of scholarships from rotary clubs, social and affinity groups like the Knights of Columbus and shit that are majority if not entirely white in membership, and from religious organizations that had their basis in white ethnic communities. This is one of the legacies of white privilege, connections like these that POC, particularly black people, don’t have access to for the most part. UNCF, the Urban League, and similar groups have programs to help bridge the gap but the truth is, a lot of those scholarships are much smaller and tend to get snapped up quicker. Children of undocumented immigrants have an even rougher time, regardless of their own status, they face many more obstacles in trying to attain funding.
Not to mention POC, particularly lower income POC, are more likely to be the targets of the kinds of predatory lending practices that destroy credit and subsequently make it difficult to qualify for private loans. Also, in the wake of the subprime mortgage boondoggle, many lenders have tightened their belts and eliminated subprime student loans altogether, further impacting these students.
Even the magical tribal gravy train that white people think exists is bullshit. Being based in AZ and working with a lot of native students and families (mostly Navajo but a few other nations such as the Yavapai), I have experience with how tribal scholarships work so let me go ahead and nip this particular bullshit idea some white people have that All NDNs Go to College Free in the bud, ok? That isn’t how it works. Out of the huge number of native students I worked for, maybe three had a full ride from their tribe. Most had partial scholarships, or things like room and board weren’t covered, and we had to hustle through other means to meet their funding gaps. The money available for these types of things varies from tribe to tribe, and each tribe has its own methods of determining who gets these limited funds.
And let me just add, the tiny handful of students who did have full rides? The most motivated students I had outside of military vets. They were by no means “lazy”, they always had their paperwork in on time and never missed our appointments. These kids appreciated the opportunity they were given and were determined not to squander it, to better themselves and their families. And I include the poor/working class white kids in with that statement. Their work ethic was just as strong as the more well off white kids. If not stronger. They wanted to succeed and it showed. You want to know who blew off my phone calls, lost paperwork, never had their shit together and were just generally pains in my asses due to entitlement complexes? To damn near a one, middle class white kids.
tl;dr: foolish people need to take some seats.
(via stfuconservatives)
(via voicesofearth)
From Arise India Forum:
“For many years I worked in palliative care. My patients were those who had gone home to die. Some incredibly special times were shared. I was with them for the last three to twelve weeks of their lives
People grow a lot when they are faced with their own mortality. I learnt never to underestimate someone’s capacity for growth. Some changes were phenomenal. Each experienced a variety of emotions, as expected, denial, fear, anger, remorse, more denial and eventually acceptance. Every single patient found their peace before they departed though, every one of them.
When questioned about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently, common themes surfaced again and again. Here are the most common five:
1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
This was the most common regret of all. When people realise that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honoured even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.
It is very important to try and honour at least some of your dreams along the way. From the moment that you lose your health, it is too late. Health brings a freedom very few realise, until they no longer have it.
2. I wish I didn’t work so hard.
This came from every male patient that I nursed. They missed their children’s youth and their partner’s companionship. Women also spoke of this regret. But as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.
By simplifying your lifestyle and making conscious choices along the way, it is possible to not need the income that you think you do. And by creating more space in your life, you become happier and more open to new opportunities, ones more suited to your new lifestyle.
3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result.
We cannot control the reactions of others. However, although people may initially react when you change the way you are by speaking honestly, in the end it raises the relationship to a whole new and healthier level. Either that or it releases the unhealthy relationship from your life. Either way, you win.
4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
Often they would not truly realise the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying.
It is common for anyone in a busy lifestyle to let friendships slip. But when you are faced with your approaching death, the physical details of life fall away. People do want to get their financial affairs in order if possible. But it is not money or status that holds the true importance for them. They want to get things in order more for the benefit of those they love. Usually though, they are too ill and weary to ever manage this task. It is all comes down to love and relationships in the end. That is all that remains in the final weeks, love and relationships.
5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.
This is a surprisingly common one. Many did not realise until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called ‘comfort’ of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again.
When you are on your deathbed, what others think of you is a long way from your mind. How wonderful to be able to let go and smile again, long before you are dying.New Year’s Resolutions.
| 31st Dec 2011✧19:2375 notes |
| 31st Dec 2011✧19:23131,322 notes |
Via a friend, I encountered this article about Julio Diaz, whose moral courage demonstrates a very profound truth about the origins of crime:
Julio Diaz has a daily routine. Every night, the 31-year-old social worker ends his hour-long subway commute to the Bronx one stop early, just so he can eat at his favorite diner.
But one night last month, as Diaz stepped off the No. 6 train and onto a nearly empty platform, his evening took an unexpected turn.
He was walking toward the stairs when a teenage boy approached and pulled out a knife.
“He wants my money, so I just gave him my wallet and told him, ‘Here you go,’” Diaz says.
As the teen began to walk away, Diaz told him, “Hey, wait a minute. You forgot something. If you’re going to be robbing people for the rest of the night, you might as well take my coat to keep you warm.”
The would-be robber looked at his would-be victim, “like what’s going on here?” Diaz says. “He asked me, ‘Why are you doing this?’”
Diaz replied: “If you’re willing to risk your freedom for a few dollars, then I guess you must really need the money. I mean, all I wanted to do was get dinner and if you really want to join me … hey, you’re more than welcome.
“You know, I just felt maybe he really needs help,” Diaz says.
Diaz says he and the teen went into the diner and sat in a booth.
“The manager comes by, the dishwashers come by, the waiters come by to say hi,” Diaz says. “The kid was like, ‘You know everybody here. Do you own this place?’”
“No, I just eat here a lot,” Diaz says he told the teen. “He says, ‘But you’re even nice to the dishwasher.’”
Diaz replied, “Well, haven’t you been taught you should be nice to everybody?”
“Yea, but I didn’t think people actually behaved that way,” the teen said.
Diaz asked him what he wanted out of life. “He just had almost a sad face,” Diaz says.
The teen couldn’t answer Diaz — or he didn’t want to.
When the bill arrived, Diaz told the teen, “Look, I guess you’re going to have to pay for this bill ‘cause you have my money and I can’t pay for this. So if you give me my wallet back, I’ll gladly treat you.”
The teen “didn’t even think about it” and returned the wallet, Diaz says. “I gave him $20 … I figure maybe it’ll help him. I don’t know.”
Diaz says he asked for something in return — the teen’s knife — “and he gave it to me.”
Afterward, when Diaz told his mother what happened, she said, “You’re the type of kid that if someone asked you for the time, you gave them your watch.”
“I figure, you know, if you treat people right, you can only hope that they treat you right. It’s as simple as it gets in this complicated world.”
Unfortunately my finals period has just begun, so I don’t have enough time to properly devote to this story, because it demonstrates so many things about the origins of crime, the purpose of a criminal justice system, the efficacy of punishment versus harm prevention, the alleviation of poverty as a crime-fighting measure, and much more.
All I really want to put forth to you is this: Diaz did not get angry when the boy pointed a knife at him. He did not get angry that his wallet was being stolen. He did not become filled with a vindictive sense of outrage and subsequent lust for retribution when the teenager threatened his life in order to obtain his wallet. Why? Because he never failed to remember that the boy holding the knife cannot be minimized to a simple label: “Criminal.”
Crime is not committed by criminals. Crime is committed by human beings. And human beings are complex, incentivized, internally inconsistent, self-misunderstanding creatures, possessed of a moral agency which is complicated by multifarious facets, thoughts, influences, incentives, designs, considerations, pressures and motivations. It is the failure to apprehend the humanity of the “criminal” in our criminal justice system that has lead to its current sorry state: a recidivist-driven two-tiered system in which justice is as blind as the rage that fuels the mobs who call for its application to the fictitious “criminal.”
Diaz, on the other hand, had no rage. And consequently, he saw the boy perfectly. Think on it awhile.
