ReinaLumos

You won't see me wastin' the best thing I ever had.

stardustcrumb:

You can see the difference in how these characters were brought up clearly from the younger years. Harry if you remember has to be prompted to tell his name, most likely because the Dursley’s hated to acknowledge he is important. Ron, as an afterthought tells his name as though he always gets a head of himself and must be reminded all the time to tell others who he is. While Hermione recites her name as though she has walked up to so many kids trying to make friends, because her parents told her the easiest way to make friends is to introduce yourself. And finally Draco leads with his family name because it shows his pure blood status and sets him above the rest; it is what makes him important and special, and his last name is the only thing that matters. Yet in the end war does not care what your name is, it hurts without discrimination, and that is what the second gifs display all to well.

hermionejg:


THE MAGIC BEGINS↳ A scene you really wanted to be in the movies, but wasn’t - Potions riddle

My favourite part of the first book apart from Quidditch.

I actually pulled out a piece of paper while I was reading and figured the puzzle out!

hermionejg:

THE MAGIC BEGINS
↳ A scene you really wanted to be in the movies, but wasn’t - Potions riddle

My favourite part of the first book apart from Quidditch.

I actually pulled out a piece of paper while I was reading and figured the puzzle out!

sheer-powder:

“We’ve been ‘cool’ for a very long time, and in that sense our culture has been taken for a very long time. How do we define when we’ve arrived? It’s not when a young, white girl in Berkley is wearing nice garlands or those nice buddhist beads, or wearing bindi. I don’t feel like my life in anyway has been improved because she has the ability to do that and thinks that’s okay. My life hasn’t improved. The life of my mother has not improved. Our voice as a community within this economic system has not improved. 
A good friend of mine, she’s south Indian, and she grew up in Connecticut. Her mom would make her wear her bindi and go to school. She would get harassed by kids… she would be harassed so much that what she would do, is that because she was so ashamed to have that bindi on her head, she would leave her house, wipe it off… and then come home and put it back on.
To the point where a child would have to think about such a deliberate attempt to refute their own culture I think is pretty profound. If there’s a white girl wearing a bindi walking down central avenue in the heights, she’s not considered a dot head, even though she has a dot on her head.
For me, the feeling is disgust and anger. The way I look at it if I see it, I just get so mad because I think, how dare this person be able to wear that, or hold that, or put that statue in her house and not take any of the oppression for that. How dare they. That’s not fair. We have to take so much heat and repression for expressing ourselves.
I’m going to rip that thing off your head, and I’m going to scrub that mehndi off your hands, because you don’t have the right to wear it. Until the day when you walk in our shoes, and you face what we face… the pain, and the shame, and the hurt, and the fear, you don’t have the right to wear that. It is not your right, and you’re not worthy of it. I feel like it’s so superficial and it’s so disrespected. One day, wake up, be me, and then you’ll see how powerful what you’re wearing is. ”
—Raahi Reddy, Yellow Apparel: When the Coolie Becomes Cool 

sheer-powder:

We’ve been ‘cool’ for a very long time, and in that sense our culture has been taken for a very long time. How do we define when we’ve arrived? It’s not when a young, white girl in Berkley is wearing nice garlands or those nice buddhist beads, or wearing bindi. I don’t feel like my life in anyway has been improved because she has the ability to do that and thinks that’s okay. My life hasn’t improved. The life of my mother has not improved. Our voice as a community within this economic system has not improved. 

A good friend of mine, she’s south Indian, and she grew up in Connecticut. Her mom would make her wear her bindi and go to school. She would get harassed by kids… she would be harassed so much that what she would do, is that because she was so ashamed to have that bindi on her head, she would leave her house, wipe it off… and then come home and put it back on.

To the point where a child would have to think about such a deliberate attempt to refute their own culture I think is pretty profound. If there’s a white girl wearing a bindi walking down central avenue in the heights, she’s not considered a dot head, even though she has a dot on her head.

For me, the feeling is disgust and anger. The way I look at it if I see it, I just get so mad because I think, how dare this person be able to wear that, or hold that, or put that statue in her house and not take any of the oppression for that. How dare they. That’s not fair. We have to take so much heat and repression for expressing ourselves.

I’m going to rip that thing off your head, and I’m going to scrub that mehndi off your hands, because you don’t have the right to wear it. Until the day when you walk in our shoes, and you face what we face… the pain, and the shame, and the hurt, and the fear, you don’t have the right to wear that. It is not your right, and you’re not worthy of it. I feel like it’s so superficial and it’s so disrespected. One day, wake up, be me, and then you’ll see how powerful what you’re wearing is. ”

—Raahi Reddy, Yellow Apparel: When the Coolie Becomes Cool 

“No matter what you do in LA, your behavior is appropriate for the city. Los Angeles has no assumed correct mode of use. No one’s going to save you; no one’s looking out for you. It’s the only city I know where that’s the explicit premise of living there—that’s the deal you make when you move to LA. The city, ironically, is emotionally authentic. It says: no one loves you; you’re the least important person in the room; get over it. What matters is what you do there. The whole thing is ridiculous. It’s the most ridiculous city in the world — but everyone who lives there knows that. No one thinks that L.A. ‘works’, or that it’s well-designed, or that it’s perfectly functional, or even that it makes sense to have put it there in the first place; they just think it’s interesting. And they have fun there. In LA, you don’t have to be embarrassed by yourself. You’re not driven into a state of endless, vaguely militarized self-justification by your xenophobic neighbors. Los Angeles is where you confront the objective fact that you mean nothing; everything there somehow precedes you, and it’s bigger than you and more abstract than you and indifferent to you. You don’t matter. You’re free.”

– Geoff Manaugh in one of my favorite Los Angeles pieces ever (via wmilam, quickandcurious)