#and my neighbor offered to teach me how to use one when i pointed out she has lots of cool tools and i wanted to learn how to use a drill
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How I'm Looking At You, Part 1
Summary: You were long considered a spinster. Your family was desperate for money, and you were their only option. Sending you to work for a newcomer who was not part of the Amish community was risky, and it brought forth the gossip. Ari didn't seem to care what others thought about him, but he did care what they thought about you. Making your innocent crush and close proximity a bit more...harder. But can you convince him and yourself that the feelings are worth it? But what if it is just a crush? Do you even care anymore? Or are you ready to risk it all and leave the community?
Pairings: Ari Levinson X Reader
Rating: mild
Warnings: gossip, questioning religious teachings, language, sexual tension, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 4.1K
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
Ari takes a deep breath as he looks around. A whole lot of nothing. Land as far as the eye can see, neighbors weren’t close. He is in over his head. It was a great deal, and it made sense at the time, but now that he has sweat dripping down his face, blisters on his fingers, and more sun on his neck that his mom would deem necessary he realizes this was just a dumb idea.
The outside of the homestead is one thing, but the inside is unkempt and a complete disaster. He didn’t even know where to begin. Overwhelming didn’t even seem a strong enough word to describe the mess he is in. It is getting lonely out here, and the farmhands he hired aren’t helping much on the home or the kind of loneliness he feels. Life out here is different.
“I don’t think you’re gonna make it,” Jacob, one of the more vocal boys that Ari hired. Ari didn’t need anything that this life could bring him. In fact everyone here would probably shit themselves if they knew how much he is worth. Sometimes you just need an escape from the city life. “You look like you’re gonna melt away.”
“I’m thinking,” Ari gruffs out. The outside is fine. It is looking great, and the only reason he is even out here helping is his doctor told him stress was going to kill him. How is this not stressful?
“What’re you thinking about?”
“What do you know about keeping a house?” The young man stares at Ari awkwardly before looking at the other two men confused. They shuffle around nervously, looking down at the tilled land, “Did I say something?”
“I don’t think you understand the roles here,” Ari shrugs his shoulders, and the two boys that he couldn’t be bothered to learn their name since they didn’t talk to him before return back to their work.
“Care to enlighten me?”
“I don’t think what I’m suggesting will happen,” Ari squirts as he looks at the vastness of the land. He’d take any suggestion at this point, or whatever he had to offer.
“I don’t need suggestions, I asked to be enlightened.”
Jacob points to himself, but starts scratching his head after, “We don’t do housework. That’s for the women.”
“So I should find a woman to hire for the house,” the other boys start to chuckle, but remain working. “I think I missed something.”
“It won’t help,” Jacob shrugs his shoulders, as he grabs up his tool.
“Why?”
“If you think you’re going to get a married woman in a single English man’s home, you’re crazy. If you think you’re going to get an unmarried woman in a single English man’s home, you’re insane. Nobody would ever let their wife or their daughter in your home.”
Ari closes his eyes slowly. This way of life is confusing for him. He doesn’t want to tie a woman up in his bed and have his way with her, well — no, he wants help for his home. “Why wouldn’t they?”
“Have you looked at yourself? You’re like a man from the forbidden books. You bring out lustful thoughts in a woman. How are they to remain pure when there’s an English man that embodies everything they’re not supposed to have?”
“I don’t know how to use my stove though,” Jacob shrugs his shoulders. He didn’t see how any man would let a woman in his life ever be in Ari’s home. Especially not alone. “If I were to try, where would one go look for a woman that is unwed and needs a job?” The other boys laugh again, but Jacob points out into the distance.
“There’s only one person I can think of. A family that only had one daughter, no sons. They’re…well, they could use some charity. Their farm is quite small,” Ari hears one of the boys whistle, and chooses to ignore them. “She works at the general store.”
It isn’t the most ideal place to look, but it is the only one for now. What is the worst they could say? No. “You boys got this here?” All three give him a nod, there is so much nodding with everyone here, and he starts walking to his truck. He wasn’t going to go the horse drawn carriage route with transportation. And this isn’t a flashy truck. Old and rusty, and now he had a bit more hope of finding help for the inside of his farm. Maybe.
You can hear the giggles from the front of the general store. It was always about you, and they never tried to hide the way that they giggled and carried on about you. You weren’t supposed to gossip, and yet they always did about you. You were told you were too old to wed, and you weren’t a man and couldn’t help your father on the farm. And you weren’t the most demure because you spoke to everyone, and no matter what you did it was never right. And everyone wanted to point it out.
All you can bear to do is hold your head up high and try not to let the giggles and the random sound of your name off their sinning mouths to not affect you. Unfortunately it did every time, deep into your heart. You didn’t have friends, except the people that come into your store, and it made you long for something besides loneliness.
You wished you would have taken off long ago, but your parents didn’t deserve that. You had dreams of getting married young and having lots of little boys to help your father out. Had told your parents you could do the labor, but they felt you were better suited here. So hear you stay constantly hearing the drone of pious women being anything but that.
It is all politics and a game, and you quite frankly were sick of it. Sick of the constant need to be perfect as a human when it was literally impossible. So instead you pretend as if this is the life that you wanted. Living in a modern world, but acting as if you’re in the past. If anyone knew about your thoughts on wanting to break free, you’d be shunned, and you just couldn’t afford that.
It isn’t too often that you hear a rumble of an old Ford truck nearby, or the slamming of a door, or the fact that the giggling stops, and you see a gaggle of young women start to waddle away from the general store. And you can’t help but think, good riddance. The fact that they wanted to linger here while they whispered and giggled about your life that didn’t interfere with theirs is cruel. You always had to be the peak of perfection, while they were marking off the commandments like it was their job.
Booming footsteps isn’t unusual. What is unusual is the man that walks through the general store door, and you have a combination of looking too long and needing to look away immediately. Your eyes dart to his face, and then the countertop. Studying him and the wood grain in equal amounts.
Noticing the sticky sheen on his skin, and the random droplets of sweat dragging down his neck. Noticing his hair damp with said sweat, and still looking so fluffy. He walks over to a cooler, and pulls out a bottle of soda. Doesn’t bother to pay for it first, just pops the top, and leans his head back. His Adam’s apple moves with every gulp, and you know you look too long because his dark blue eyes shift towards you, and he winks.
Looking down at the counter, heat courses up your neck. Swirling around your ears, and your throat tightens. You need water. Even alcohol at this point. You had stolen a few sips before, and always heard it helps in situations such as these. Something is happening to your body that you just can’t explain, and you can’t even glance at him anymore.
“Ma’am?”
“Mhmm,” your response comes out whispered and pitiful, and you’re still unable to meet his gaze. A sudden urge to sit down, and let your body curl into itself pops up, and you need an exit. Air. Air would be really nice right now.
“I want to pay for the soda, but also a few more. My hired hands would like a treat,” why did the word hands sound so — delicious? Does that even make sense?
“Sure,” your body goes on autopilot as you start to ring him up. Still not daring to look at him. You’d crack, you just know it. You would be a puddle on the floor if you even tried. “Are you new?” How that sentence was even able to come out of your mouth is a mystery. Your throat is so dry and in need of rehydration immediately.
“Yeah. I bought the old Yoder farm, right at the edge of the town,” of course he did. The most coveted of farms, and even that is a sin. Too big of a farm for a single man. Did he mean to convert? Or was it too good of a purchase to not make the investment?
“That’s actually why I’m here. Darling, you think you can look at me?” Oh. Hearing a name usually saved for your parents to use for you, sounds very different from his silky voice. Your eyes shift up to look at him, and he’s even more handsome close up. You shouldn’t be worried about someone’s appearance, but he also should have his buttons done up a bit more. Too much of his gloriously tanned rippling chest is showing. He is all man. And the butterflies that erupt in your stomach makes you recall the gossipers’ talk of you being alone forever.
Those girls would not fare well if the elders knew what they were doing. But seeing this man, and his beard wet with soda, and the heavy feeling in your unseen areas, makes you quickly ask the heaven’s for forgiveness. You didn’t ask for that feeling though, it just happened. Your body is reacting to the way he looks and that close proximity to him.
“Why are you here?”
“I have hired hands for the outside, but the home itself — well it has much left to be desired. I don’t know what I’m doing in an Amish home,” you nod your head, a giddy smirk tickling the edge of your mouth, and he returns the smile. It’s a struggle to continue to look at him with how attractive you find him when he smiles. He’s handsome. Very handsome, “Yeah, I don’t know how to keep an Amish home. So this is very different.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” you didn’t. You didn’t know at all what he was referring to. English people can be so tricky with their words. No need in trying to sway a thought, just be blatantly honest about what you need.
“Well, I hired some boys to take care of the outside. I was needing to hire a woman for the home,” oh. Your sight goes back to the counter, and you shake your head no. “I didn’t even proposition you.”
“Sir, I don’t know if you are aware of our culture, but that would be — no woman should be alone with you,” it is true. It wouldn’t matter if she was married or not, it would be highly frowned upon. He didn’t know what he was asking. But even you being here in this general store, alone with him would be frowned upon. You wondered. “But some of our men are a bit more relaxed than others.”
“Is your husband?”
“I’m not married.”
“So could I hire you? I’d pay double of whatever you’re making here,” tempting. Sinful. And you want it. You wouldn’t have to listen to the gossip of those girls. Gossip would happen, you know it would. But you wouldn’t have to hear it. That sounds lovely. And you could become a ‘fulfilled Amish woman’ because you were keeping up a household. You wouldn’t be a complete failure.
“You’d have to ask my father for permission.”
“Are you not grown?”
Now it’s time for your overly sweet smile. If only he knew how there is a huge part of you that is ready to run away from this life. You are grown, and the fact you are telling another grown human that he had to ask your father for permission is obnoxious. “You truly don’t understand. I will need his permission to be alone in a man’s home. Appeal to his better nature. But yes, I would very much like to be out of here.”
And you want to be around him more. Like a rope that had wrapped around you and was going to jerk you into his thick broad chest. You would very much like that. Maybe a bit too much. You shouldn’t desire and lust after this man, but he is not grown like the boys here.
“So if I talk to your father, and he agrees…”
“What’s your name?”
“Ari Levinson,” my goodness. You need to repent for your body’s misbehavior. But for right now you’re trying not to melt away.
“Yes, Mr. Levinson. I would like to keep your house up.”
“So here’s the kitchen,” you smile kindly as you take everything in. The house is just a bit more grand than most in the area. The land is plentiful. The Yoders’ were a bit more modern, which is why they didn’t do well in this more traditional area.
“And, I really don’t need to explain this all to you, do I?”
“Not particularly,” you answer. Your eyes take in everything. Almost envisioning what a real English home would look like. Peeking into the sitting room, and going back to his really tall and thick stature. Having to look quickly away from him because he is staring too intently at you.
“What time are you wanting me to start working? Are you desiring breakfast?” That was an odd choice of words that you’re using. Desire is something you have been feeling lately, and you don’t fully understand the feelings. Or whatever is happening to your body, you just know that you enjoy looking at him. “Or lunch? Or dinner?”
“All three would be appreciative, but not a requirement,” you give him a head nod, starting to open up cabinets. You cringe. This isn’t how you were taught, but you can’t help it. He was in dire need of assistance, you see. “I apologize, Darling. Maybe I can give you some money, and you furnish the kitchen properly?”
“I would need to.”
“You do whatever you need, Darling. You just tell me what you need me to do,” he keeps using that name with you. You never feel this way when your parents call you that. This weird knot in your stomach that twists and twists, and your breathing isn’t normal. You’re just standing here staring at this man, and that is all.
“Is everything okay? Did I say something? I’m not good at this?”
“No, the um…I’d need to go into town,” shuffling your feet around you try to look at him, and try to ignore the burning in your throat, and between your thighs? What even is this?
“Okay,” that’s all he has to say. And you can’t end it there for several reasons. One of which is because you don’t want him to go. “Darling, you’re going to have to talk to me. I can tell there’s something you need.”
“Town is a few miles away,” he nods. Still not understanding what you’re needing. Did you even understand? “And you need a lot,” he blinks owlishly at you, and you try to swallow a completely dry mouth, “I don’t have a way to get there and bring everything back.”
“Oh, of course. I’m sorry, Darling,” that name again. You almost want to start counting how many times he uses it a day. His hand touches your shoulder as he steps past you to grab his keys, and you inadvertently bite your lip. “Can you ride in the truck? Is that allowed? Do I have to get a horse and buggy?”
“A truck is fine,” your voice is so breathless as you follow him towards the outside. Ready to head towards town, and hopefully to get everything you would need.
“I’ve got to tell the boys I’ll be leaving. You go on, and get in the truck,” walking outside with your eyes focused downward, you walk towards his truck. Trying not to look at the boys from the church, but they are most definitely looking at you.
Staring so intently they don’t notice Ari walking right up to them, and Jacob looks too long for Ari’s comfort, “What’s she doing here?”
“I took your advice. She’ll be keeping the house up.”
“Like a wife?” Jacob removes his hat, continuing to stare at you casually getting in his truck. Your eyes are still downcast, and your unmoving face still looking straight ahead and not at the boys. “So her parents agreed to this, and she’s just getting in your car.”
“I just met her and you’re talking about wives. No, I’m taking her to town to get the things she’ll need here. You boys continue to do the work, and I’ll return,” he nods to each of them, and they all gawk as he walks towards the truck, and you give them one solid glance, and they return to their work. Not making it too obvious that they are looking at you.
Opening the truck door, you watch as his thick body hops in. Looking at his legs, and how thick they look sitting down, and you weave your fingers together. Looking down at your own lap when Ari looks towards you, “You seem uncomfortable.”
“They are watching us, Mr. Levinson.”
“Should you not be in the truck with me? And please, call me Ari.”
“You’ll find out soon enough that for a community that teaches against gossiping, they will truly gossip. Carry on,” getting out of the sight of the farm, you feel comfortable enough to sit up. The gossip will always happen, you just learned to accept that. Continuing to glance at him, and you can’t stop. It’s unexplainable, but you aren’t the only one.
His dark blue orbs find a way to look towards you, and even smirks, “Do you only ever wear the dress and bonnet?”
“Just when I’m awake. Why?”
“Is it comfortable?” Not really. But it could be worse.
“It’s not uncomfortable,” you can’t truly be honest. So you feel.
“I see. But you don’t particularly enjoy it,” at least he understood what you meant. “So the women here, they’re job is to learn to keep a house, and then you marry off and do just that?”
“Yes,” it makes it sound so simple, and you almost want to curse what a quaint life you live. You weren’t given the opportunity to have dreams or want more. The dream was to marry, have kids, have your own home. You even wonder if your desires to marry was because you were told that’s what you did.
“Hmm,” he contemplates, paying attention to the road even though he’s more interested in your thoughts on this topic. You didn’t seem to have the same goals as the other people here.
“It’s not a horrible life.”
“I guess not.”
“It has its perks,” you argue. “It’s beautiful out here. We have the ability to ignore the noise that everyone else surrounds themselves in. I might not have the luxury of having my own dreams, but being a wife and mother, and keeping a house up is an honorable life,” it was, if not boring in ways. You never had the chance to explore something more.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t. But you’re not married. Is there a reason?” You turn to look at him. Actually, look. Had there been a man in the community that looked like him, you might have considered it. This is just silly because now you’re being someone who judges another based on looks. “You don’t have to answer.”
“My father isn’t like most,” you have a good father. Older than most of the ones who had children your age. “I think a part of him didn’t want to see me unhappy. I had a few interested for my hand in marriage, but I didn’t want them, and he didn’t make me Mary them.”
“Why didn’t you want them?”
“It’s easy for men here to get away with their indiscretions. And I don’t want to marry out of duty, or have to bear children with a man I can’t stand to look at. That’s what they all want. Just a wife and her to birth his last name.”
“You mean sex. It’s what most men want.”
“Sex?” You look at him confused, shaking your head, “No, I mean children. Extending your legacy,” Ari chuckles, giving you a devious smile, and your chest constricts. “What?”
“Do you know what sex is?”
“I…I assure you that we’ve been talking too much,” you gulp, wishing that you could arrive in town faster. You aren’t sure what he’s talking about, but you are sure that you feel like you’re going to combust. There is a thickness in the cab that you can’t explain. A fiery pain that settles below your stomach, and…other places.
“So you don’t?”
“Ari, is this an appropriate conversation?”
“I’m assuming that it’s not, judging by your reaction, but I am now curious. Do you know how bearing children comes to happen?”
“I live on a farm, I’m well aware of how breeding works,” he snorts, and you turn to face him quickly, “What is so funny?”
“That you’re referring to it as breeding. I suppose that’s true, but with humans it can be so much more.”
“What does that mean?” The truck drifts to the side of the dirt road, and your thumbs twiddle nervously. The air becomes even thicker when he leans in closer to you. “Ari?”
“I’ll take it easy on you this time,” what does that even mean? Putting the truck into park, he faces you. “Has anyone, man or woman just made everything in your belly float around? Like there’s this weirdness inside of you, pricking your skin whenever they’re around, and your throat dries up, and you can’t talk, and…”
“Your belly feels empty like you need something to fill something inside of you,” Ari clears his throat, looking down at your lap, watching as your thighs twitch around.
“Yes. Exactly like you need to be filled with something.”
“I feel — have felt that way,” you agree, trying not to let him know that it is in fact him making you feel that way. “But it doesn’t always seem pleasant when the animals mate.”
“I assure you if a man knows what he’s doing it can be very pleasurable to you,” a noise you have never heard before squeaks out of your mouth, and you look down at your lap again. Heat didn’t even describe what you are feeling. A roaring fire or volcano getting ready to erupt, and the need to go to the bathroom to clean yourself is more accurate. What is going on with your body?
“If he knows what he’s doing he can take you to another plane of existence,” Ari has been in this odd town for a few weeks, and not so much as glanced at a woman since. Judging by your reaction you are understanding exactly what he is talking about. He adjusts his pants, turning back to look straight ahead. He is also getting uncomfortable, but not because of you. His uncomfort is himself. Hopefully for the same reasons you appear to wiggle around too much.
“The way he could make you feel without ever — entering your body. It's a pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. Learning another person’s body can be fun. It can be paradise.”
“Should we be having this conversation?”
“Probably not. So maybe we keep it to ourselves, and I’ll buy you something besides that dress to wear?” The ideas he has mulling in his mind of what he could put you in, he’s downright ashamed of.
“I could only wear them inside your house.”
“I was only wanting you to wear them for me anyways, Darling,” fuck. He’s fucking fucked. A quick flash of you submissively getting to your knees as he paints your lips with precum comes to his mind. Your mouth slowly opens as you innocently let his cock breach your lips. Looking so pretty as you stare up at him. Fuck.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
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#how I'm looking at you#ari levinson#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x fem!reader#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson x y/n#ari levinson x you#ari levinson fics#ari levinson fanfic#ari levinson fic#ari levinson fanfiction#chris evans#chris evans character#red sea diving resort#amish au
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having a mental breakdown over the painters accidentally covering up the holes in the wall I used to hang my plant holders from cause i no longer have access to my father's drill ✌🏻
#going through a totally normal one on this long weekend between the painters pointing out issues that need money i don't have and covering#up some random holes#i listened to all the self help books i read this month and called my friend and he was like you can borrow my drill before i even asked#and my neighbor offered to teach me how to use one when i pointed out she has lots of cool tools and i wanted to learn how to use a drill#plus the painter said he'd do the waterproofing job now so the new paint doesn't get ruined and i can pay him in a couple of weeks when i#get paid#people are good and kind and they want to help#I'm just struggling with all the stuff i used to be able to ask my parents for help with#mainly money and stuff that needs doing around the house#which is sad in a lot of ways too#but it'd be nice if life could stop happening so much when i barely have enough money left for groceries#alex txt
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An App Does Not a Master Naturalist Make
Originally posted on my website at https://rebeccalexa.com/app-not-master-naturalist/ - I had written this as an op-ed and sent it to WaPo, but they had no interest, so you get to read it here instead!
I have mixed feelings about Michael Coren’s April 25 Washington Post article, “These 4 free apps can help you identify every flower, plant and tree around you.” His ebullience at exploring some of the diverse ecological community around him made me grin, because I know exactly what it feels like. There’s nothing like that sense of wonder and belonging when you go outside and are surrounded by neighbors of many species, instead of a monotonous wall of green, and that is a big part of what led me to become a Master Naturalist.
When I moved from the Midwest to the Pacific Northwest in 2006, I felt lost because I didn’t recognize many of the animals or plants in my new home. So I set about systematically learning every species that crossed my path. Later, I began teaching community-level classes on nature identification to help other people learn skills and tools for exploring their local flora, fauna, and fungi.
Threeleaf foamflower (Tiarella trifoliata)
Let me be clear: I love apps. I use Merlin routinely to identify unknown bird songs, and iNaturalist is my absolute favorite ID app, period. But these tools are not 100% flawless.
For one thing, they’re only as good as the data you provide them. iNaturalist’s algorithms, for example, rely on a combination of photos (visual data), date and time (seasonal data), and GPS coordinates (location data) to make initial identification suggestions. These algorithms sift through the 135-million-plus observations uploaded to date, finding observations that have similar visual, seasonal, and location data to yours.
There have been many times over the years where iNaturalist isn’t so sure. Take this photo of a rather nondescript clump of grass. Without seed heads to provide extra clues, the algorithms offer an unrelated assortment of species, with only one grass. I’ve gotten that “We’re not confident enough to make a recommendation” message countless times over my years of using the app, often suggesting species that are clearly not what I’m looking at in real life.
Because iNaturalist usually offers up multiple options, you have to decide which one is the best fit. Sometimes it’s the first species listed, but sometimes it’s not. This becomes trickier if all the species that are suggested look alike. Tree-of-Heaven (Ailanthus altissima), smooth sumac (Rhus glabra) and eastern black walnut (Juglans nigra) all have pinnately compound, lanceolate leaves, and young plants of these three species can appear quite similar. If all you know how to do is point and click your phone’s camera, you aren’t going to be able to confidently choose which of the three plants is the right one.
Coren correctly points out that both iNaturalist and Pl@ntNet do offer more information on suggested species—if people are willing to take the time to look. Too many assume ID apps will give an easy, instant answer. In watching my students use the app in person almost everyone just picks the first species in the list. It’s not until I demonstrate how to access the additional content for each species offered that anyone thinks to question the algorithms’ suggestions.
While iNaturalist is one of the tools I incorporate into my classes, I emphasize that apps in general are not to be used alone, but in conjunction with field guides, websites, and other resources. Nature identification, even on a casual level, requires critical thinking and observation skills if you want to make sure you’re correct. Coren’s assertion that you only need a few apps demonstrates a misunderstanding of a skill that takes time and practice to develop properly—and accurately.
Speaking of oversimplification, apps are not a Master Naturalist in your pocket, and that statement —while meant as a compliment–does a disservice to the thousands of Master Naturalists across the country. While the training curricula vary from state to state, they are generally based in learning how organisms interact within habitats and ecosystems, often drawing on a synthesis of biology, geology, hydrology, climatology, and other natural sciences. A Master Naturalist could tell you not only what species you’re looking at, but how it fits into this ecosystem, how its adaptations are different from a related species in another ecoregion, and so forth.
Map showing Level III and IV ecoregions of Oregon, the basis of my training as an Oregon Master Naturalist.
In spite of my criticisms, I do think that Coren was absolutely onto something when he described the effects of using the apps. Seeing the landscape around you turn from a green background to a vibrant community of living beings makes going outside a more exciting, personal experience. I and my fellow nature nerds share an intense curiosity about the world around us. And that passion, more than any app or other tool, is fundamental to becoming a citizen naturalist, Master or otherwise.
Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes or hiring me for a guided nature tour, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!
#iNaturalist#plant apps#Seek#Merlin#nature#wildlife#plant identification#apps#botany#biology#science#scicomm#science communication#Google Lens#naturalist#Master Naturalist#conservation#environment
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how abt a little fic of the gang hanging out with a human, latino/a reader? often reader speaks their language whenever upset or at lost for words, or maybe sings songs in their language! ( virgen by adolescentes got me in a chokehold im SING MY SOUL N BODY OUT !!@ ) also love ur work! got me at the edge of my seat fr fr whenever you updated!
stay safe n thx !! 🦎🦎
OOOH! I like this idea! I don't know much about Latino/a culture, being a US citizen, but I will do my best. To be honest I wish they offered classes in the US about other cultures (or in my school. Idk if others actually offered classes like that). If anything is inaccurate, I apologize, and please let me know! I love to learn about these sorts of things. ❤️
Welcome Home Neighborhood Hanging out with a Latino/a Reader
📽️ Where exactly your family is from in Latin America doesn't really matter to them. The main point of interest is what things you can teach them! They want to know everything! Especially since Frank and his books actually don't have that much about it, for once! So, once they learn about it, you will have a lot of teaching to do.
📽️ So, when start speaking or singing in your language, they are amazed! They only thought that one language existed, to be honest. They think it sounds very pretty! If you are willing to teach them, they will go absolutely insane with joy! Though, they might be a bit confused about why you only speak your language when upset or at a loss for words. It is so amazing, why don't you speak it more often? Imagine how pretty it would sound if you spoke it while happy!
📽️ Do you celebrate holidays specific to where you are from? If you do, the first time you start setting up for it, a few of them might be watching with curiosity. After a while, they might start visiting to ask questions. Celebrations? MORE celebrations than they already knew of? Count them in! They might have a bit of trouble understanding the symbolism behind certain aspects of it, though. Also, if you celebrate The Day of the Dead, you might have to explain what exactly "death, dead, and dying" are. Once they understand, though, they would probably like it! I feel like they have a very basic knowledge of funerals, but never understood some parts until you explained them. They would enjoy how The Day of the Dead serves as a reminder of the happy times with loved ones without the crushing atmosphere of a funeral.
📽️ There are traditional foods that are popular in your culture? Poppy would love to know more! Maybe she can make them with the other neighbors and you! Can you teach her how? Oooh! Traditional clothing? Julie and Sally would be interested! Maybe they can base a play around some of the folklore and create costumes based around the culture? It might not be the same as a fairytale, but it is still just as interesting!
📽️ Overall, it would be the same with anyone of any specific culture they don't know about. Due to being from a children's show, they have a natural instinct to learn. That's what a children's show is all about, right? Learning! They also believe it will serve to make you more comfortable with them. If they know more about you and where you came from, they can try their best to surround you with more familiar things to ease you into being used to their presence in your life.
(I hope you like it! I tried to look up some stuff to make it a bit more accurate. Idk if this is exactly what you meant but I tried my best! 😊)
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The director of special education did not show up to our IEP this week. It made the meeting a whole lot less contentious. It didn’t hurt that they assigned a much more experienced teacher to DS and our advocate showed up and kept everyone in line. Should it take that much work/effort/stress? Absolutely not! I will never understand how anyone is getting services if we cannot with all of the privileges we have personally been afforded.
DH and I talked to Ms. 6 this week. It could be worse, but it’s not great. She bought herself a car or someone else did, but it seems no one cares if she has insurance (legally required). I told her to call and get some quotes. She has not.
She has a boyfriend she met online that no one has vetted. He’s older (no idea how much older) as he has his own place. He lives three hours away in a neighboring state, but Ms. 6 couldn’t remember which city he lives in. She goes to see him on the weekends despite the fact that no one has met him or vetted him. It’s killing me! She was very vague on the details regarding what he does for a living.
Her car seems some basic repairs. Her grandpa has been a semi truck driver for decades. Hasn’t helped her with the repairs. Boyfriend is maybe some kind of mechanic but is unable to help with repairs. Mom is driving Ms. 6’s uninsured car and teaching Ms. 6 how to do donuts in it.
Ms. 6 said she applied to a PA program. When I pointed out that the PA program she applied for is a masters program (aren’t they all?) that cost $109k for the 28 month program, she seemed shocked and unimpressed. I did do a conference call with her and the high school this week to try to sort out her graduation.
Ms. 6 had knee surgery last week. I offered to be available and make the three hour drive to take her. She said her mom was taking her. The night before surgery her mom said she had to work and couldn’t take her. Grandma said she couldn’t take her because she had already take a sick day that week. Mom’s BF drove her, but apparently doesn’t like hospitals so he didn’t sit in the room and wait for Ms. 6 to be taken back to surgery. Surgery was pushed back several hours. Now mom doesn’t want to take her to the post-op appointment because the dogs have a vet appointment.
Post surgery, Ms. 6 was prescribed narcotics. Mom is an addict. Is she currently using? I have no idea but she used for at least a decade and has a conviction for cooking meth with the intent to sell. Kids were removed for many reasons including heroin use. Ms. 6 said the “oxy” isn’t managing her pain so she asked the nurse for something else AND an oxy refill. The pharmacist wouldn’t give both to mom. Mom told Ms. 6 it’s because they don’t have the same last name. I pointed out that I also don’t share the same last name as anyone in our family, and we were also recently denied a narcotic at the pharmacy. It is clear that no one that she has contact with lives in their thinking brains—they are all convinced that they are victims of one system or another.
Ms. 6 also quit her job. She said it was because they were making her do too much work.
Ms. 6 really wants contact with the other kids, particularly NB at this point. We have withheld that so far but can’t really articulate why. I think because it doesn’t feel healthy or good, and things don’t necessarily feel stable with her between DH and myself and her. I’ve talked to her a handful of times in the past month which are the first times I’ve spoken to her since she left in August. Anyone have experience in this area? Is it wrong for us to feel it out as parents before we open that relationship back up to siblings? It’s not my intention to use them as pawns, but it probably feels that way to Ms. 6. The kids here have not asked to see her, and DS and DD are actively continuing to say that they don’t want to have contact.
I’m trying to be something for her but that all feels very temporary and complicated right now. I sent her a small care package today via mail and am going to offer up some services for her like connecting her with colleges, but am trying to hold tight to a lot of boundaries at this point.
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The Statute of Secrecy 📜
Disclaimer: This is just my personal opinion. I'm sorry if this was answered late but... I just wanted to answer this properly. And perhaps a late birthday post! 🎉 I'd love to hear more thoughts in the comments section or give me more asks!
The anon was pertaining to a previous post of mine, which you can find here.
Once again, this is a very, very long post. ✨ Please take your time!
Thank you so much for sending me this ask. This is my first one ever, and I couldn't be happier! You have no idea how long I've been stewing on this topic but didn't know where to start.
Let's talk about it! I originally just wanted to post my vague take about this topic but I got to thinking 🤔 If we're really going to talk about this, let's delve deep into it, and get all the proper information out. Lots of people are divided about this statute; some in agreeance, some in complete opposition.
Also, I know that I'm no expert in the areas of government that I'm going to mention here. But I think I have a decent handle on the topic at hand, and for once, I'd like to put my degree on International Relations and Politics to good use!
What is the Statute of Secrecy?
According to the wiki, the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy (commonly shortened to Statute of Secrecy) was a law in the Wizarding World that was first signed in 1689, then established officially in 1692. The purpose of this law was to safeguard the wizarding community from Muggles, and hide its presence from the world at large. This statute was inveterated by the International Confederation of Wizards — which is the equivalent of the United Nations in the muggle world.
The ultimate reason as to why this law had to be made and laid down in the 17th century was due to the severe Wizard-Muggle relations at that time. Witch trials were at an all-time-high across European nations. It was said that, "...[witches and wizards] that offer to aid their muggle neighbors with the use of magic was tantamount to volunteering to fetch the firewood for one's own funeral pure." This was evident in the many witches and wizards that were imprisoned and sentenced to death on the charge of practicing witchcraft.
On top of that, there had also been a time of widespread persecution of wizarding children by muggles, and both witches and wizards being forced by muggles to perform and teach magic for the latter's benefit; thus, increasing the numbers of persecution that inevitably included those of muggles mistakenly tried and burned as witches. At this point in time, the Wizarding World had to establish interventional measures.
During that period, Great Britain was ruled by King William III alongside his wife, Queen Mary II. There was a time during their reign when the newly-created Ministry of Magic attempted to convene with the muggle British Monarchy via a special Ministry Delegation. The British Wizarding World went as far as begging the muggle monarchy for the protection of wizards under muggle law. Of course, this attempt had failed, which promptly resulted in the collective decision of Wizardkind to voluntarily remove themselves from muggle societies, and went towards the direction of hiding and secrecy.
Now that the historical background of this law has been covered, let's now talk about what would happen if the Statute of Secrecy were to be abolished; which will make the Wizarding World known to all muggles. (Again, these are my personal views and hypotheses, backed by ample amount of research from both sides of the debate).
Of course, in an ideal world, we would all be accepting of each other, holding hands and singing Kumbaya. 😀🤝😀
But given the current status of wars we're facing today, we have to be honest with each other here. The power of love and acceptance is not going to be enough if the muggles themselves cannot even reach an amicable understanding between themselves. And this is without magic to begin with!
So, what will happen if the Wizarding World were to reveal themselves to the muggles?
I. Economic Repercussions
There are so many bases to cover when it comes to the economic impact of what the abolishment of the Statute would entail. If the Wizarding World were to reveal their truth during this time, I can only imagine the economic upheaval both the muggle and wizards will face. Assuming that the Wizarding World would unveil themselves today, year 2023, these are the highly anticipated events that may occur:
1. At least half of the Muggle jobs will be obsolete
The first that comes to mind are people who work blue-collar jobs. I believe they will be hit the hardest in the event that magic will be known.
Why would you need a couple of dozen of construction workers (who work at a slower pace, and costs more) if you have magic to do if for you; which is considerably cheaper, faster, more efficient, and safer for all who are involved? Sure, wizarding engineers do exist as Hogwarts was built both by hand and magic. But for the most part? Utilizing magic to build and construct infrastructure will be far easier and faster than its muggle counterparts. This alone would affect the economy of manual labor of the muggle workforce.
How about housekeepers? Servers? Customer service? Handymans? They are surely the backbone of our society. But with the integration of magic, again, it would be cheaper to hire one witch or wizard to do the job, and it would be faster if magic was involved with stacking grocery goods into shelves, enchanted clothing stores that automatically alter your clothes to your size and shape, and a swish of the Scouring Charm (a charm used for cleaning and washing things) will inevitably cut the muggle labor-force into considerable numbers.
Didn't we see the Leaky Cauldron's tables being cleaned and chairs being put up by one wizard? A restaurant wouldn't need lots of servers if this would be the case. That alone would wreak havoc on muggle economy. (Less workers = less income tax revenue for the muggle government).
We've seen in real life how the recent pandemic messed with our economic recovery simply because the service industry was not wholly available as it used to be during pre-pandemic times. Everything else became impossibly expensive and difficult to obtain.
2. Pharmaceutical Corporations and Insurance Companies
Come on, now. We all know this is a gargantuan beast to tackle.
The first thing that came to mind are the magical creatures and plants that will be harvested to extinction if the muggles knew of their medicinal properties. Poaching will be at an its height (poor Poppy) with both muggles and crooked wizards selling and auctioning these creatures for mass breeding programs. There will be a race to find and get ahold of the rarest magical creatures, such as the Phoenix, Unicorn, and some species of Dragons and Winged Horses.
Wizarding potioneers and apothecaries will be reaping the benefits of this, of course, but they will be swamped with millions (if not, billions) of desperate muggles who are in search of cures for their ailments. Skele-Gro for immediate regrowth of bone-related accidents, Wiggenweld for the immediate treatment of open wounds and post-operative incisions, and the Forgetfulness Potion and Draught of Peace for patients who are suffering PTSD or any other trauma-related symptoms; just to name a few.
But the most dangerous part is that there will be a race for the recreation of the Philosopher's Stone. This is the key to create the Elixir of Life. And this is something both the wizarding world and the muggle world will fight to the death over.
Muggle pharmaceutical corporations will be affected considerably due to the magical competition of potions and healing spells that are far better than some of the muggle medications. However, there are still medicines that are needed and irreplaceable at this time; such as post-operative maintenance medicine, emergency care, anti-psychotic drugs, chemotherapy, anti-seizure aid, and the like.
And as much as we all loathe our respective countries' insurance companies and policies, they are still an important factor in our economic system. These companies will also be affected by the decline of both muggle medicinal and medical procedures.
3. Doctors, Nurses, and Healthcare Professionals
In that same vein, all healthcare professionals and providers will be affected. There will be a demand for more wizarding healers than doctors, and there will be an influx of muggle patients seeking treatment from the Wizarding World. Yes, there will be muggles who will still be wary and untrusting of wizarding procedures. This will be the saving grace of the muggle doctors and nurses — but only for a little while. Once the legitimacy and credibility of wizarding medicine becomes apparent (which it will over time), lots of muggle physicians will be at a loss of employment as more and more wizarding healers will be on demand worldwide.
The bright side to this dilemma is if both wizard and muggle medical professionals learn to cooperate with one another and have an exchange of training information with each other. Wizarding healers can learn how to do first aid; such as CPR, resuscitation, defibrillation, Heimlich maneuver, etc. We also have to give lots and lots of credit to the muggles. We have survived thus far with our own studies and the sheer will to live.
And so, we also have a lot of knowledge to impart to the wizard healers. Surgery would be even more revolutionary with the brainpower of muggle surgeons and wizard healer's magic and potions; perhaps to the point where mortality rates would go even lower than what we currently have. Maybe the muggles would give the wizards an idea of replicating organs instead of relying on donors! These are some of the positives that can happen for sure.
The Wizarding World will finally get to know dentistry! 😂 I honestly can't believe they don't know the existence of dentists all the way to as late as the 1990's.
4. Transportation
Commercial air and sea travel will most definitely be hit by the presence of wizarding means of transport. Imagine: Floo Stations can be built almost entirely anywhere (from major cities to remote islands), Witches and Wizards can be hired to apparate and disapparate (making traveling much faster, given the Wizarding World could figure out a way to bypass splinching), and Portkeys can be made and sold for a price! (There had been an incident where a muggle accidentally touched a Portkey, and was transported in the middle of a Celestina Warbeck concert!)
Surely, the muggle way of transporting goods will still be there simply because there is just too many parcels and packages to deliver. But human transportation will be affected, putting a dent the industry of airlines and seafaring companies. Plus, wizarding travel methods are easier on the planet! They don't use fuel and gas to begin with.
Another thing is broom flight! Yes, it's fun for the most part. But there will need to be an entirely new set of transportation systems and rules to be implemented before it can even be introduced for public consumption. I assume it's cheaper to buy than a car, and so a lot of muggles will be enticed to opt for brooms instead of cars — and they can just hire the aid of wizards to enchant their bags with Extension Charms for their personal belongings.
But ultimately, automobile manufacturers and corporations will, once again, become obsolete. It would push for smaller car companies into bankruptcy, and the larger ones would probably have to sell their now-surplus stock of cars for a drastically cheaper price just to be sold. Can you imagine what this would do to the economy?
5. Muggle-Made Products vs. Magically Modified Products
Funny enough, I added this part last-minute. But I immediately thought about this from seeing a review of Lady Gaga's beauty brand, Haus Labs, and their "Atomic Lip Lacquer." A product review said:
I'm 100% convinced Lady Gaga found some glamour witches and hired them! This product is impossibly good and effective!
This set my idea lightbulbs off because true enough, I had sampled this product before — and it works! It's smudge-proof, transfer-proof, and the color is quite universal on a lot of skin tones. (This is not an advertisement, nor is this post sponsored by Lady Gaga). 😂
But of course, the caveat is that if this truly was enhanced by glamour witches, then there will be a problem. Right now, we know that Haus Labs probably just have really good cosmetic chemists in their lab. But if the world was to know that glamour witches can be hired to amp up certain products, there will be a power and economic impact in the market competition.
Sure, all major companies can hire their own witches and wizards to magically enhance their products. But what about small, family-owned businesses? What about those actually honest companies that pay their workers fair wages? What about small companies who rely on ethically-sourced products from indigenous communities; like woven garments and furniture? What happens to them, then? They will be obliterated by these major corporations who have the money to hire people of magic to modify their products that will ultimately (and unfortunately) overpower smaller businesses.
Even if we are to ethically buy muggle-made products in support of their honest work, it will become much more expensive to procure over time. Much like cultural products made by locals are more expensive than your factory-produced goods, even the masses will have no choice but to buy products that are magically enhanced because they're cheaper and they take less time to manufacture. And most importantly, the magical products are going to be much more effective.
Just like that Atomic Lip Lacquer.
6. Currency, Trade, and Stock Markets
This one's pretty straightforward. With the use of divination, legilimency, seers, and all sorts of other methods of prediction, the odds are in the wizards' favor. Even with muggle technology that aids them in stock market predictions, it wouldn't stand a chance against magical seers and divination. Not only that but it would wreak havoc upon the value of both muggle and Wizarding currency exchange.
Since their community is considerably smaller than the rest of the world's, their economy is pretty stable. The system of currency isn't really expounded in great detail in the books, aside from what we know that there are 29 Knuts for 1 Sickle, and there are 17 Sickles for 1 Galleon.
Interestingly, there have been systems from forums and websites that have shown the actual money exchange rates between the Wizarding and the muggle currency:
(This one, however, is no longer the actual rates because we all know that rates change daily. There used to be a website for daily conversion rates but it's currently inaccessible or have been taken down. Do try to see if this website's working by the time I published this post).
I am not an economist, and I suck at economics, but judging from how a Galleon is worth more than the Euro, the US dollar, and British pound, Wizarding currency is more powerful than muggle currencies. If the Statute would be taken down, the Galleon would now have to enter the International Stock Exchange! But the worst part is that the British Galleon is not the only Wizarding currency there is. In France, they operate with the Bezant (which was established around 1927), and in the US, they have the Dragot and the Sprink (from at least the 18th century).
Yes, Gringotts Bank do accept muggle currency for Galleons in the case that muggleborns needed to have them exchanged. But the goblins do find the way to put muggle money back into circulation. So, in reality, muggle money is worthless in the Wizarding World. Not only that, but assuming that Galleons are made from gold, that in itself will cause a lot of confusion as to how it would be converted, and which method of conversion would yield higher returns. The bottom line is that the Wizarding currency would suffer from the process of joining the muggle market.
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🔹 Now these are the things that I can think of at the moment, but I'm sure there are tons of other things to consider. We're barely scratching the surface of the economic repercussions. Sure, there are advantages in the long run. But will the muggles and wizards even get to the long run with other factors to consider?
II. Religious Opposition
(Note: I am NOT pertaining to the derogation of any specific religion on this section of the post. Anything mentioned here is alluded to in a generic way or historical context. I am not siding nor criticizing any particular group or religious organization by refering to "real life" events; I am merely making historical references that align with the canonical events in the Harry Potter universe).
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One of the other factors that I just mentioned is the religious opposition the Wizarding World will inevitably face. The contrasting beliefs and practices of the Wizarding World against the muggle religious organizations is the prime reason why the International Statute of Secrecy had to be made to begin with.
There are extensive historical references, records, and studies about the subject of the European Witch Hunts and Trials that go way back to the 1400's. There was a book — which is famous, even today — that is considered as the "handbook" of identifying, capturing, torturing, and executing a witch in captivity. This is called the Malleus Maleficarum, also known as the 'Hammer of Witches.'
It is because of this book that tens of thousands of people, 80% of them were women, have been put to death. Inevitably, this became the ultimate cause why the Wizarding World have decided to completely go into hiding. The differences in the acceptance of religious beliefs and practices were the driving force why the Statute of Secrecy had been passed and enforced.
Given that today's religious climate is arguably better than how it used to be during those days, there is a bigger and better chance that the youth will have a far greater sense of open-mindedness about the existence of witches and wizards. A lot of Millennials, Generation Z, and the oldest of Generation Alpha are scientifically considered smarter and the most educated generations in all of modern history. We are, as a collective whole, the most progressive and accepting when it comes to considering things that are unknown or are yet to be discovered. Most of us won't react with violence or have the need to gather our pitchforks against the Wizarding World.
However, the same couldn't be said for religious orders. Witchcraft and wizardry are real punishable violations under scriptures, and the history of this practice is one of dark times. If the Wizarding World is to be revealed to the masses, alongside the demonstrations of magic for everyone to witness, religious organizations will most likely take action against the Wizarding population. It would not be a surprise if religious extremists host groups of people willing to revive witch hunts and take matters into their own hands, citing holy scriptures and rights against the perceived enemy. (Keyword: Extremists; not the religious organizations as a whole).
Taking note of the political upheaval in today's warring nations (and to completely acknowledge the severity of what's going on these days without disrespecting real-life situations), muggles alone have taken part in religious crusades after another. Dominant empires of the past have conquered and colonized solitary societies who are living in peace solely in the name of their respective religions. We see this even today. It is not far-fetched to think that some (not all) factions within religious organizations will take up arms against the Wizarding World. It is easier to find a common enemy to attack and fight against. It is easier to wave white flags toward your usual enemy, and join forces to defeat the new threat.
On the other hand, we see a new wave of several revivals of pagan faiths by today's youth. More and more people participate in different forms of divination (such as tarot and astrology; here's my shameless plug: @tarotwitchy), some practice the Goetic rituals and methods of communicating with deities and spirits, others prefer to continue with their ancestors' lost pagan traditions according to their ethnic roots.
So, that is a good thing... right? Unfortunately for the youth, majority of world religious leaders are the elderly; who have grown accustomed to conservative and very traditional practices and systems. And while there's technically nothing wrong with that, I personally do not see them willing to put aside their beliefs in order to allow the Wizarding World to be acquainted and assimilated in the muggle world. Pagan and indigenous spiritual people (and those who have folk religions in their cultural heritage) have a higher chance of tolerance towards the new comers. Again, I could be wrong, and I'm very open for discussion. But the judging from the current situation of the world, muggles cannot even set aside their differences to realize that we're all human with the right to live. What more when it comes to a completely new "species" of humans that will most definitely be perceived as a threat?
III. Cultural Nuances
There are obvious cultural nuances when it comes to the acceptance of the practice of witchcraft around the world; as a matter of fact, it wouldn't be so popular in today's new age of spiritual resurgence if these nuances haven't been a part of ethnic cultures in the first place. Some countries in Asia, Africa, Eastern and Southeastern Europe, the Carribean, and in Central and South America, witchcraft is basically a part of "folk culture," wherein the practice is deeply embedded into the traditional heritage of the people. Some cultures do not necessarily look upon witchcraft and wizardry as evil practices but something to respect (or at the very least, steer clear from out of ambivalence).
I can only speak for my own culture, but here in my country, located in Southeast Asia, we are part of a handful of countries that practice "folk Catholicism." This is when the influence of colonial religions have meshed alongside the natives' pagan traditions and practices. The assimilation of the two groups make for quite an interesting culture! Here, as much as 86% of the population are Catholic. But in spite of the clear-cut religious law that witchcraft and wizardry are not to be tolerated, the indigenous roots of folk practices can never be forgotten nor erased. For example, whenever the Church has done all they could do to help someone under spiritual attack, most people would turn to the ancient pagan practices for cures and solutions.
And I know we aren't the only country that does this. The Haitians and Romanians also have these practices deeply embedded in their culture. (I don't claim to expertly know about these countries, and I understand that not all citizens of those two nations practice witchcraft and wizardry). Mesoamerican culture entails the assimilation of the Catholic faith and its indigenous beliefs as well! (This was a really interesting and enlightening read for me to have researched, and people should read about it, too).
Therefore, I think majority of the muggle population around the world would have a lukewarm reception of the revelation of magic, in general. Of course, there will be fear. There will be wary people who might even spurn the existence entirely. But with how the younger generations have been extremely curious and eager to participate in these practices with an open mind, I wouldn't be surprised if the culture of the Wizarding World will be assimilated into the mainstream in just under a decade. That is, idealistically speaking, if the younger generation would really push for the human rights of the wizards as well. None of this would matter if wizards won't be given the same human rights and freedom as the next muggle. Only then would the wizards be granted the lawful freedom of practicing their own culture (besides other lawful implications and regulations).
Nevertheless, as good as that sounded on paper, greediness and envy does not have an age bracket. Both young and old will be tempted to take advantage of magic simply because it is power, in its natural form. You can see this phenomenon happening in high school students' social experiments; wherein one group of students are being given good school materials, better grades, more attention from teachers than the other group. The less "privileged" group of students began to complain and raise their concerns, and some even gave up entirely. But at the end, since their concerns were left unheard, they plotted against the other group to covet what those students have for themselves.
Of course, these feelings can somehow be justified on the perspective of the muggles. Why should the wizards have all the power? Now that they revealed themselves, they should also share their magic! These muggle concerns, in turn, will alarm and scare the Wizarding World even more. Given their respective histories, they didn't have a good parting to begin with. And this is why, on the grounds of Cultural Nuances, it would really depend on the heritage of the country or region; and how they received and perceived witchcraft and wizardry throughout their histories.
IV. Sociopolitical Upheaval and Power Vacuums
[Note: I have seen and read different takes on this issue, and I must say, there are some who see this issue in an entirely new light that I haven't considered before. Alongside my own personal research and beliefs, I will try to put all of the information together in a cohesive way. Again, all of these are the amalgamation of my own opinions and of others'. This post is for entertainment purposes only, and I am in no way pertaining or pointing fingers to a specific governmental body of any nation in real life. If there are countries mentioned in this segment, it's only because of comparison, and I'm correlating the given information that coincides with the Harry Potter universe]. 🙂
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A little interesting fact: It was common knowledge that the Malfoys used to be staunch and vocal protesters against the Statute. Why? Well, during the time before the Statute, they enjoyed being part of high-society muggle circles that ensured the steady rise of their wealth from collecting muggle artifacts, currency, and assets. They also used to align themselves with the muggle monarchy, providing discreet (and shady) services to King William the First. The Crown rewarded these services by giving them annexed land from local landowners in Wiltshire — that's why they have a huge manor! But when the new law was passed, the Malfoys became adamant in their denials of interactions with upperclass and royalty muggles.
Now, the discovery of the existence of the Wizarding World can most certainly go in so many different directions. I'm about 99.99% sure that at least half of the world's governments would not take kindly to this shocking revelation. Personally, these are the things I think would happen from the moment witches and wizards made themselves known to the masses, to name a few:
1. Governments would be on high alert
The first thing that I can imagine happening is that the muggle world will be in a state of frenzy. The simple fact that the Wizarding World has managed to hide under the muggles' noses this entire time could make the majority believe that they are not safe at all. If the wizards have lasted this long without the muggles knowing their existence, what else could they be hiding, right? Not only would the public masses become paranoid and fearful of their surroundings, their respective governments will issue a high-alert status all over their nations.
Remember, the wizards are considered the aliens and new outsiders in this scenario. We've seen time and time again in different movies (Transformers, The Fourth Kind, Signs, 10 Cloverfield Lane, Arrival, Edge of Tomorrow, and The 5th Wave) that humans in general will employ all strategies to contain and annihilate the foreign species. And so, this is most likely the first thing muggle governments would do. It wouldn't be far-fetched if these world leaders might also go as far as to call for martial laws to their countries for total control over all citizens. But of course, this would just be a façade for what would actually happen; which is the unlawful and literal witch hunt for the wizarding population that may have been living in muggle communities.
Looking back at when the existence of aliens have been "confirmed" by the US government, most people didn't even bat an eyelash or react with frenzied panic. Given that it's because these disclosed aliens don't pose a perceived threat, most of the youth didn't really react with hostility or fear. If anything, they treated the whole thing with a tired lightheartedness. People knew all along that aliens existed. While some muggles might have an interest for learning magic, the government would treat magic as an ultimate threat against their security, AND they would covet it at the same time. Which brings us to the next point. ⬇️
2. Political upheaval, and the struggles for positions of power in the government
Personally, I don't see fair play happening at all. The first thing that I thought of is assassinations. Dark witches and wizards for hire will do the bidding of high-ranking muggle officials "under the table." That is if the Wizarding World will even allow themselves to be henchmen for long. Can you imagine: the only reason why wizards would "work" for muggles is to truly get to know the entire system from top to bottom, then dismantling everything themselves? National security would be compromised, muggle protective and intelligence agencies will be on red alert, targeting all of the Wizarding World (even the good ones). It will all just be a disaster.
{I wanted to get into the entire Warfare and Security Issues but this post has gotten so long already. So, if anyone is interested in seeing that, I can insert that in another post. Maybe a presentation?}
Solution?
1. Develop a whole 'International Muggle Affairs and Intelligence Agency' for all Ministries of Magic.
As far as I know, the British Ministry of Magic only has TWO offices that cater to handling muggle affairs — not even official departments! One is the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office (the same one where Arthur Weasley is working for), and the other is Muggle Liaisons Office (which is more like catastrophe-handlers office at this point. They're in charge of fixing the collateral damages wizards have caused to the muggle world than anything).
But what they need the most is a wizard equivalent of a CIA or FBI. They need to be on top of all muggle affairs in each region and continent. There is a Japanese Ministry of Magic (since they also have Mahoutokoro School). They should work with other neighboring Asian wizarding bodies to stay on top of political, social, economic, and technological developments of the muggle world. The British Ministry of Magic should also get off their high-horses and collaborate with neighboring European wizarding officials to maintain the latest knowledge of muggle happenings.
The only reason why the Wizarding World was unscathed during the World Wars of the muggles was because they were sequestered and protected with spells around their secret territories. But I don't think that would suffice any longer against muggle technology and nuclear weapons. Drones are everywhere, the countryside are getting more and more urbanized, and the wizards communities are getting smaller and smaller. If I were them, I wouldn't wait until the very last minute to get to understand the importance of muggle powers and knowledge. I'd get on top of it now.
2. Secret Muggle Integration Project
On top of that, I truly believe there needs to be a Ministry project that hire muggleborns to report back the situation of the muggle world to their respective wizarding ministries. They know it best, as they were born and most likely raised in those communities. They need to collect gadgets, latest hand-held weaponry, books, clothing, and other materials for the Muggle Artifacts Office to study very carefully.
The Wizarding World needs to adapt to the changing times. The muggles are already looking to the stars and neighboring solar systems for new life and possible habitation for the next generation of humanity, whilst the wizards are stuck with their narrow-minded ways. Quill and parchment, really? This isn't to scoff at traditional ways. But we all know that they are severely stuck in the middle ages. They have become complacent and comfortable with the tried and tested magical methods.
Muggles have bled and learned the hard ways of life. That's why they soared to new knowledgeable heights. Muggles weren't handed things the easy way. People died from illnesses and catastrophes and accidents; and that's when we learned to advance ourselves as a collective whole. Wizards need to understand this, and assimilate this kind of thinking in their lives if they hope to catch up with the muggle status quo, or they'll be sorry they didn't once the muggles discover them in due time.
I understand the historical bad-blood between the two factions. The primary reason why wizards cloistered themselves away from the muggles were because they were being persecuted in the first place. And it would be very insensitive to force their communities to accept the muggle ways.
That's why in my honest opinion, they shouldn't lift the Statute of Secrecy.
They should only study and be up to date with everything else that's going on in the world while maintaining anonymity and secrecy.
—————
I hope this truly provided a complete picture and breakdown of what would happen in this scenario, and I apologize that I do not agree with your position. I still hope you enjoyed this, anon! Thank you for being my very first ask.
#witchy speaks#hogwarts legacy#ominis gaunt#sebastian sallow#garreth weasley#ominis gaunt x mc#ominis gaunt x reader#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x reader#hogwarts legacy mc#hogwarts legacy headcanon#hogwarts legacy headcanons#harry potter#hphl
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☆Cant take my eyes off you☆
wally x gn reader (pt.2)
Warning : ( grammar mistake , and first time writing a fanfic )
After you finally arrived at the picnic place you can see the others already arrive before you, you can see Wally with his canvas and other art tools that he bought, Frank brought his favorite book to read while Eddie sits next to him leaning against his shoulder, Barnaby bought his favorite chew toy, and poppy brought couple food for everyone else while sitting down just enjoying the view.
Wally takes a moment to look at you and smiles a bit and continues with his painting, out of curiosity you take a look at what Wally was painting you thought to yourself 'It's probably a beautiful view of the sunlight or the atmosphere everyone around here
You take a peek at what he's painting, it was a painting of a red flower, "A painting of The red chrysanthemum flower " wally stopped and sigh, the painting was finally finished.
"Oh my! I love your artwork ...gee, maybe you could teach me some painting lessons next time !" "Ha.ha.ha.. what a great idea neighbor! " "You know my cousin is also a great painter but he uses charcoal instead ..blah blah blah.." you went on and on talking about your cousin while Wally just enjoying hearing you talk
You when on and on about 10min? 20?
You pause and noticed wally staring at you , you realize that you've been talking for straight couple of minutes for none stop "ah- sorry did I talk too much? maybe I should stop now haha-" you scratch your head
"oh dearly no need to apologize for that, it's okay friend hearing you talk like that made me happy as you do while talking " "Ah..well thank you for saying that" You were relief, but still you were thinking about it
Wally looks at your frown face and think
"Here what don't you try painting dear?" he offers to sit next to him "Me? Painting? But I have a horrible skill of painting?? How am I going to do that?" "dear dear painting doesn't have to be perfect or beautiful, you do them for fun for me I quite enjoy them because they are relaxing for me, I heard it reduces stress and anxiety. Why don't you try it, neighbor ?" Wally looks at you with a smile while handing you one of his canvas and paint tools.
"Hmmm...I mean I guess. I could try" You sat down next to Wally and started painting something, Wally smiled and also started to doodle in his sketchbook.
A couple of hours has passed.
And you finished what you made, you sigh "Finished neighbor?" Wally asks you tense a bit "Ah yeah" "May I see it?" you look at Wally nervously "Why nooooooouuuh not yet" "C'mon on is not that bad right?" you look at Wally and sigh, and nervously hand out the canvas to wally.
"Hmmm... I think it's quite nice neighbor"
" Really? " you squint your eyes suspiciously at him
"yeah! It's a nice painting for a beginner I gotta say " he smiled
Sigh "Thanks"
"here" Wally hands out you a piece of paper, while you were painting he drew you
Your heart feels like been hit by an arrow. "OH-my thank you, Wally, I look adorable " You admire the little detail that Wally put in.
"you could keep it, just say this was a little gift from me to you" he smiled
You wanna scream and cry bc it was so sweet of him "I- thanks you so much wally" .
After for a moment you look back and saw everyone has taken a nap except frank was still reading his book. "Awww frank and Eddie looks so sweet under the tree ee couple goals frfr"you thought to yourself.
You decide to take a break and kay down. On the grass field , you point out to wally that could looking like barnaby running away from a big giant evil shoes you two giggle and then enjoy the quiet moments.
You close your eyes enjoying the sound of the wind and the grass movement, and some birds.
It was peaceful. You still feel like someone is staring at you, but You try to ignore it and Enjoy the moment...
Suddenly wally ask while looking up the sky
"hey neighbor did you fell asleep ?"
"..." You didn't answer
It was silence for a moment.
"you know somehow every day I see you, it seems I can't take my eyes off your neighbor , heh sounded weird huh.."
"...," no response from you, you were surprised and tried to hide it.
"..."
"feelings are weird " wally said
And then suddenly you could hear wally getting up and going somewhere? You still have your eyes close and wondering should I open them or not.
You heard footsteps coming back, and you could feel Wally has placed a flower next to your ear.
It was very silent after that, you feel like you needed to scream from embarrassment .
You thought to yourself should I open my eyes?nooooo?? maybe?? Uhhhhaahahahahaaaa- feel like I'm going crazy
You decided to open them and saw Wally was nowhere to be found.
You were confused and looked around and heard someone calling you.
"neighbor."
You look back and right front if your face was Wally's face, your lips made contact with his. You panic and move away fast from his face.
Your face was red as a tomato after that. WTFFF WAS THATT JSFC you scream inside.
"Were you awake?" he ask
"...yes?"
.
.
.
Is he Waiting For my reply about before? You ask yourself
This is your first time being confessed at, you known is normal to be nervous But still, you don't know what to say.
You get up and face wally , your eyes meet his and his eyes meet yours.
"does that mean, do you have a small crush on me?" you ask your heart beat was fast
"...yes" wally replied
With expression "Eh? Eeeeeeeeehhhhhh " this was all so new to you
You feel like want to run away, you saw Julie behind wally back rooting for you both Julie was lips sync " don't run away y/n!!" "aren't you happy?"
Your heartbeat is even faster after she asks that , of course your happy .
"I..i uhhh.." your face was red
Wally was patiently waiting On your answer.
" yes" with a small voice you said
"what was that neighbor?" wally tilt his head
"yes, maybe we could go out sometime and plan something together after this to get each other know well"
"the answer is yes" your hand was covering you face and then you felt someone hug you.
It was Wally making happy noises while his face was red.
"WOOOHHOOOOO--" Julie quickly realize and cover up her mouth "oops"
@elegantkidfansoul
--end of the storyyy , thank you for reading jsfc this was hard for me to write--
Am sorry if cringe. Again this was my first Time.
#welcome home#wally darling#wally x reader#wally darling x reader#x reader#welcome home wally#Welcome home wally darling#welcome home arg#fanfic
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Turning back accompanied by the dog, with a heavy heart at not being able to return to my native province, I come across a fight between these Thalmor assholes and soldiers who seem to me to be from the dissident anti-empire faction called the Stormcloaks.
I freeze. These elven armors... Like in my memories and my nightmares. With each blow they inflict on these Nordics, with each spray of blood that stains the ground, I see again my neighbors, my family succumbing to the soldiers of the Aldmeri Dominion.
Crippled with fear, I crouched behind a rock, praying to Lady Kynareth that she would send a mist to conceal.
The elves won, although outnumbered. As soon as they left, I approached, trembling, the men who had fallen into a pool of blood. I shiver in the silence. My healing spells remain in vain, I can no longer do anything for these men. I close their eyelids.
I come across a piece of bread sticking out of a soldier's bag. My stomach growls furiously. Filled with shame, I opened this dead soldier's bag, found bread and an apple there, which I promptly devoured. I try to tell myself that this guy didn't need it anymore after all, but I feel like I taste blood in my mouth. A few coins sparkle at the bottom of the bag. I grab it, trembling. It's wrong what I'm doing, robbing a dead man.
But if I want to go home, I have to become someone powerful. And without money, I will never be able to do anything. I promise these soldiers to avenge them one day, at the same time as I will avenge my family.
I leave again, moving away from the roads for fear of meeting the Thalmor again. I come across a house in a remote place, on the side of a hill. It is occupied by a woman named Angi. She offers to warm me by her fire and also to teach me how to shoot a bow. She gives me a simple wooden bow, but effective for hunting or defending myself. I grant him the blessing of Kynareth in return.
Angi pointed me in the direction of the nearest town, Falkreath. I can easily see it below the mountain. If only I could be an eagle, avatar of the goddess Kynareth and let myself soar down...
But I trudge down the mountain, careful not to break my neck. Surprised by the rain, I took refuge in an old stone building. I quickly realize that I am in a necropolis. In general these are connected to the temple of Arkay so I believe that by crossing it, I should logically find myself in Falkreath.
What was my terror when I saw the dead rise up, chase me and try to kill me! Are all Nordic tombs like this? I had no choice but to use my magic to push back these undead and turn back towards the exit.
Exhausted, dirty and trembling, I managed to get out without too much damage and resigned myself to taking the road to get to town. Night was falling. All I hoped was not to run into any vampires along the way...
I arrived safe and sound at the town inn. The first thing I asked for was a place to wash. I felt downright disgusting. Once clean, I sat down at a table and ordered a meal. I was starving. But as soon as I was seated, my neighbor at the table began to try to start a conversation. Was he trying to hit on me?
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Educational Musings
I'm mulling through several options for just what I do when this school year ends. Most likely, this school district would be willing to offer me a half-time contract in the fall, and the teacher shortage is enough that if I work a couple of contacts, I might be able to negotiate half-time in the neighboring county (which would pay better). Full time is definitely out because I don't hate myself enough to be absolutely miserable again.
I could also do a semester as a post-grad volunteer at a university counseling center. It'd be a drive, but I like working with college students as much as with adolescents, I could limit my hours to the 20-25/week which doesn't leave me miserable and chronically exhausted, I like the supervisor, and it would be an appropriate reswing back toward counseling before applying to 'real' jobs. It would also be ideal for combining trips to audit the Dx class since the DSM has been revised.
I haven't hated being back in the classroom, but I'll admit that is partially because my attitude right now is "y'all need me more than I need you." They know I'll walk if they don't keep me reasonably happy. (Okay, I wouldn't walk midyear without a very good reason, because the kids do deserve better.)
I picked up one section of English to help make up for a teacher leaving mid-year. It's senior English, so there's no end of course test, and I can pretty much do whatever I want. Even flying by the seat of my pants, I'm enjoying it. We're reading "The Things They Carried" because I didn't think the textbook selections dug deeply enough in the experiences of war veterans. I was able to give a unit assignment/project with a lot of creative options as alternatives to traditional essays. Next, I'm using the inclusion of a speech of Gandhi's to make them read Dr. King's "Letter from the Birmingham Jail." There's a lot more freedom in English (at least Senior English - I suspect it's not as much the case with the tested ELA classes) than in math.
Even with math, I still like the challenge of trying to figure out the best way to present the material. I wish I had sufficient time to create more in the way of custom curriculum materials - especially after reviewing the textbooks being considered for adoption. There has to be a way to teach math as a system of thought, rather than disjointed parts.
And yeah, I like working with teenagers. They're damn fascinating, particularly when you give them space to express themselves.
I like teaching in many ways, I just have a low tolerance for bullshit, and there's a lot of bullshit. I think I could be a very good teacher, but not with all the restrictions currently in place. I haven't bothered looking up the current laws in TN regarding classroom libraries. I won't have such a thing if I continue teaching, I'll just have books that I absent-mindedly left lying around and if someone takes one, well, I'm too scatterbrained to keep up with things like that. Obviously.
The real issue, which I suspect might be more of a math problem than an ELA problem, is that I can't actually teach what the kids in my classroom need. Even pre-pandemic, we had a problem with a majority of students arriving without the prerequisite knowledge to handle high school math. Post pandemic, even my best students are still struggling with algebra, and if I spend the time I really should be to remediate the gaps, I won't cover the geometry content. The test scores aren't going to be pretty this year. I don't know how I'm supposed to be a good teacher when I can't respond to where the students actually are. (And god knows, loosing time to benchmark assessments, data analysis meetings, etc. does not help. I already know they're behind.)
This doesn't even get into my significant differences in philosophy with the powers that be about what education should accomplish. I hate that I'm subsidizing a system which, at this point, primarily appropriates student and teacher labor to make money for a handful of companies publishing standardized assessments. I hate that I feel like a political football when I read the news. I hate that instead of teaching students to be curious, to ask good questions, to look for evidence, to point out flaws in arguments, to challenge assumptions, the only thing truly valued is the ability to get questions right on a standardized test. (The introduction to the revision of the academic standards for math actually said they were switching focus in Geometry back to numeric problems - i.e. those with one and only one answer and thus can be tested in a standardized fashion.) I truly feel that the current educational system needs to be burnt to the ground and rebuilt along radically different lines.
The trouble is that I'm not sure counseling will be that much better - at least not until I reach the point where I can open a private practice with a helluva sliding scale. Meeting metrics for a for-profit chain, standardized screenings, manualized treatment plans, subtle nudges to prioritize economic productivity as a sign of 'mental health', and in many cases, the not so subtle use of counseling and 'behavioral health' as coercion. I think I'll be just as pissed off and stressed out.
I don't know... Writing is the only thing that makes me consistently happy. I need to find a way to live off that.
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Prompt 8 Tepid
Tepid, that was how she felt as she followed Professor Priorfaix into the lecture hall. She was used to teaching island children informally back home in the Ruby Sea. Something that had helped when the Headmistress of the Scholasticate had reached out to the Conjurer’s Guild in Gridania, was that E-Sumi-Yan had suggested Rehna, and pointed out that she was already a student studying the magical arts of healing in Ishgard.
Today however, was the first day of the newest session. She spotted a couple of students from her earlier classes, both last session, and earlier in the day when she was clad in student’s robes. Now, she was wearing the robes of a Professor, though trimmed to indicate she was an adjunct professor, they were still the robes of a Professor. Those who were used to seeing her in Student’s robes of black with red trim, looked at her in confusion.
“Good afternoon students. Welcome to the first day of our new experimental class. Some of you may be aware of the nature of this class, and some of you may not. With Ishgard opening its doors, it is no surprise that one of the first places we reached out to was Gridania, one of our closest neighbors, and one of the few places we had minor trade with. Some of our soldiers spoke of their experiences with the Conjurers of Gridania, and how their healing arts differed from our own. Less book and formula, and more pulling from the elements around them. This class is going to introduce you to Conjury, some of you will be able to wield the magics, and some of you will become familiar with the limits so they you can either supplement it with our methods of magical healing, and others will learn how to work alongside this new to us magical art, as your studies are along the more mundane side. It is no secret that those who can offer magical healing are few and far between. Those with mundane skills will be more valuable if you understand how to best work with a magical healer.”
Professor Priorfaix looked around at the students present before continuing.
“This is Professor Relanah. She is a student teacher with us, but I assure you, she comes with very high regard from the Conjurers of Gridania, having earned highest marks. She also has extensive practice applying her arts, having assisted another Conjurer for many years in their practice. She has practical knowledge of medicine and alchemy to go along with her magical knowledge. As she is a Professor, she is to be accorded the same level of respect within the classroom, or when she is fulfilling her office hours. If she is wearing this robe, failure to treat her as one of the Staff can and will result in consequences befitting the failure. Is this understood?”
A girl in the front row raised her hand. Rehna recognized her from last session, as well as from her morning class. She was a student who resented Rehna’s presence in the school, not only as a Foreigner, but as a ‘Beast’ as well, being a Miqo’te.
“Yes Ms. Dupré?”
“Professor, how do you expect me to take her seriously? She is younger than I, her magical skills are inferior to mine, she is a…”
“ENOUGH!” barked Professor Priorfaix. Rehna was glad that his attention was not on her at the moment.
“Your assessment of Professor Relanah’s magical aptitude is very much incorrect. Part of her approval to attend classes here was that she limit her magical skills to those she learned within these walls, and not those she already knew. I assure you Ms.Dupré, to put it lightly, Professor Relanah could wipe the floor with you, then heal you, just so she could do it all over again. Do you think our Headmistress would allow a Professor to teach a class full of students, most of whom were, like yourself, from a High House, let alone a prestigious High House? Do you think our Headmistress a joke Ms. Dupré?”
Rehna winced. This was not how she wanted her students to earn her trust.
“Professor, perhaps a demonstration is in order. It will not only prove my skill, but it will also give them a demonstration of the power of Conjury as a healing art. I know there is skepticism when it comes to foreign magic.” She turned to Delané Dupré, “Ms. Dupré, as you seem to have an idea of the skills of your classmates, I shall ask you to pick three of the strongest within this class room with offensive magical skills. If you can not pick three close to your own skills or better, then I will allow you to pick an additional two.”
Delané got a sly smile that she tried to hide for a moment and began pointing out five students. A couple of other students scoffed at her choices. Rehna knew that two of those who scoffed, and offended that they were not chosen were as strong as Delané was. That she chose to skip them in order to add two more students that were only slightly less than those two was a wise play on her part. Rehna smiled at the young woman.
“Well played,” began Rehna, “let's go to the practice room. All of you, come along. Those of you not chosen are to sit in the protected seats and observe.” All rose, following Rehna out of the room and down the hallways to the practice room. A few staff looked dismayed as they trooped along. Professor Priorfaix had a smug smile on his face. Once within the room, the students observing settled into their seats. Rehna indicated the practice Dummy of choice.
“Whenever you are ready, you may strike with everything you have.” Rehna still had her crook nestled in her arm. All raised their books to cast, Rehna flicked her fingers at the dummy, then flicked a finger at Ms. Dupré when it was clear she was going to cast directly at Rehna. The girl never finished her spell, her eyes rolling up into her head, she crumpled to the floor. The other students hadn’t noticed her fall, their own spells triggering close to the same time. The color of the dummy showed a decrease in it’s health, then it changed before their eyes back slowly. They prepared for a second wave, and Rehna raised a shield around the dummy. The second wave didn’t even cause it to change color. Rehna purged her spell from Delané, then squatted down with a viscous grin.
“Did you really think I was foolish enough to think you wouldn’t try anything to prove I was unworthy? How about you think about your mistake, produce a three parchment explanation of your choice, outlining your thought process, and why it failed. I think you will also notice Ms. Dupré that your fellow students have failed to cause any real harm. Do you still think your skills are better than mine?”
She shook her head. Rehna held up her hand, “I also believe that attacking a Professor, whether you believe me to be one or not, is worth Immediate Expulsion. So how about you turn that essay into the Headmistress.” Rehna flicked her finger at the Dummy again, the students still attacking, so focused, they hadn’t noticed what was going on. Those in the safety of the warded seats stared slack jawed at the display. “Perhaps, she will allow your parents to plead their case on your behalf. Personally, though you let your ego play cards you don’t have, you have excellent control and focus. You could be a very good student.” She stood up, voice raised in a volume used to carrying over the sounds of crashing waves, “Anyone else not understand this lesson?” The attacking students jolted out of their focus, turned and faced her, some showing exhaustion, the stronger students trying to clear the echo of her voice bouncing off the walls from their ears. All of them, even those in the Gallery shook their heads.
“Professor Relanah, I shall escort Ms. Dupré to the office.”
“That won’t be necessary, she will finish out this class session, I will walk her down myself.”
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my life is a series of memories that showcase myself mostly being alone, alone or hurt by adjacent people one would call family. alone in a swing of a neighbor in the early morning. alone throwing a knife on the wall of the stairs. being kicked down a tree. crying on the asphalt with bruised knees. falling on the ground and bleeding because I tried to hug a mother that started to walk away despite of having my arms around her.
when I gained age, past 7-10, I begin to have memories of distant classmates. distanced by cult teachings, by being too different, by being too, different.
kids throwing rocks at me. getting a 'snow wash'. swinging in the swings; "now we're married, now we're engaged, now we're divorced" but he was terrified. being the last to being picked in teams in baseball. being the odd one out. being singled out. bad mouthed.
processing situations by associating myself into different gender, wishing things that made no sense to little brain. unheard of. "wish I could be like her, able to play with the boys like that", she was a tomboy twin to a very petite girly sister. I'm genderfluid, but it's probably because of trauma. because when I encounter traumatic situations with no one to trust, I become many. or I used to, anyway.
normal life terrifies me, because what then, maybe I can't handle it any better. many more things have become difficult since my childhood. daily my brain shuts down, sooner or later. shuts down, to a point I have to lay down. i hate how my brain feels then. in those moments. i end up shaking my head time to time, to make the brain juices go back in place, so the ill feeling goes away. so my eyes stop averting to look at things. so I can think again. at least, think again.
it takes a good day, to be able to listen to song lyrics and have relative ease in understanding what I hear. most of the time I have to listen and read at the same time. sometimes, some people talk, and I don't hear every word, or understand what they mean. sometimes, I can't understand which language they're speaking in. I can try to listen carefully, and understand then. but even then, even if it's my own native language, my brain can't translate what I hear enough to say I heard what they were saying.
most days now days, I go downtown, but have to hurry, because the noises and the people are overwhelming and my brain starts to go strange. then my body starts to go strange. and I begin to feel exhausted and it's hard to think or focus.
I have no safe place. even at home, I feel exhausted, eyes averting, wanting to just sleep the days away. i don't feel safe enough to keep reaching out to anyone. i don't want to bother. and I don't want to be rejected. im important to no one. my body knows it and it tries to shut down each day. sometimes sooner, sometimes later.
i don't know who i am when I am getting things done around the house. im me, sure, im me. but right now. im not that person. who is it? that person is nothing like I am right now. none of my thoughts are like hers, my outlook on life is nothing like hers. im not planning a future for myself. but she is.
sometimes I find out in the morning, someone did something during the night. and i have no recollection. im missing items, like i don't know what happened to them. then i remember someone threw many things away a few years ago. many important things.
i know. all we ever did, was try to receive help. but we didn't. there was no help to what ails us. there is no help. in contrary, we're being offered as the only help a medication that worsens our ailments, and all we can do is refuse it. what is it to sleep better, if what makes us go insane becomes worse and multiplied by the treatment?
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Lucky Broken Girl by Ruth Behar
Lucky Broken Girl by Ruth Behar is a Pura Belpre Award winning autobiographical novel with fictional elements that follows the author as a young girl during a time she was called Ruthie by her friends and family. The reader meets her in the 1960s, when had been living in New York City for a few years after her family moved from Havana, Cuba. She is excited because she is finally moving from the “dumb” class to the “smart” class because she finally has a good enough grasp on English. Things have been going well for Ruthie and her family. She has made new friends, her father just bought a new car, and they were enjoying the freedoms of the United States. This all changes when Ruthie and her family get into a very bad car accident. There are fatalities, but most of the family only suffer from cuts and bruises; that is, except for Ruthie, who has a bad broken leg, which requires her to be kept in a nearly full-body cast for a whole year so the leg can heal properly and not cause complications for her later on. During the year Ruthie is confined to her bed, she learns many important lessons and hears stories from bedside visitors. She also learns that life is a precious thing that needs to be cherished and never taken advantage of.
I found this book while looking at the official Pura Belpre Award novel list. Before perusing this list, I had never heard of it before, but after seeing the pretty cover and reading the synopsis for it, I decided that it would be a good choice for reading. I’m so glad I picked it up and gave it a chance because it was amazing. Ruth Behar’s true story is heartbreaking and beautiful, and it made me feel like I was there sharing her hardships.
One of my favorite things about this book was the style and language. Behar is a talented writer who tells stories in a way that is poetic, so I wasn’t surprised to find out later, after some research, that she is mainly a poet. She has published a few collections of her original poetry and she has also released a few books about her experiences in leaving Cuba. This is her first book written for children, which I was a surprised to learn. I thought the way she chose to write this book was so delicate and beautiful. She told it from little Ruthie’s point of view, which made me feel like I was having a conversation with the young girl herself. Behar also uses great examples of figurative language in ways that helped create pictures in my mind of what was happening. Sometimes I even felt I was in the story thanks to her descriptions.
This story included some of my favorite characters in children’s literature. Ruthie herself was so sweet and thoughtful, but I also loved everyone who came to visit her while she was in her body cast. Her teacher Joy teaches her to look at life with an open mind, her neighbor Chicho teaches her to unlock her creative side and helps her believe she can achieve anything she sets her mind to, and her nurse Amara is firm but filled with love as she helps her learn to walk after she is released from her cast. Every character in this book makes a huge impact in Ruthie’s life and I loved how Behar described the characteristics and actions of each one. It almost felt like I knew them personally.
Ruthie also realizes many unexpected insights throughout the plot. It was amazing to see her grow from a bitter young girl when she was put in the cast and confined to bed for a whole year to someone who valued life and everything it had to offer when she was released by her doctor. She takes every lesson she learned from her beside visitors to heart and vows to live a life that is worth living. One of my favorite quotes happens at the end of the story, when Ruthie says, “is this what it feels like to receive a blessing? It must be. For I was once a broken girl. And I’m not broken anymore. I am lucky, after all. One day I may even go on the journeys I dreamed of. People will say, ‘Look at her, she spent a year in bed, and now she travels far and wide.’ But wherever I go, I know I will feel most at home with the wounded of the world, who hold their heads up high no matter how broken they may seem.”
I think this book is great for any child in the upper elementary grades. Ruthie’s point of view is easy to follow and sounds very child-like, so I think kids will really resonate with what she has to say. The poetic language Behar uses makes reading very easy and almost dream-like. This would also be a great book to use for teaching figurative language. I give this book five out of five stars.
Behar, R. (2018, April 10). Lucky Broken Girl. Nancy Paulsen Books.
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The Fog of Brilliance
Fate back after another therapy session about the metaphorical power of untying your tongue and discussing your issues. Let’s look at a letter from someone who was given this power but can’t deal with the side effects:
Fate,
You can describe it however you want: introverted, socially anxious, quiet. I know I’ve been shy ever since I was a child. I preferred playing with dolls or stuffed animals in my room to getting into shouting matches with my cousins or the neighbor kids over whose turn it was to play Nintendo or who had rightful possession of the soccer ball or whatever.
I never spoke up in school either, not even when I had something interesting and/or relevant to add to the discussion. I’d just save my thoughts, maybe write them down in my notebook, and then write an essay on them later for homework or save them for the long-answer test questions. I got academic scholarships to a good college thanks to my teachers writing recommendations about how I was a “hard worker with a fiercely independent spirit.”
I didn’t want to be so independent, though. I really wanted to make friends and impress potential collaborators. It took most of my first semester at college before I finally started accepting my roommate’s offers to grab lunch or dinner or do things with her and her friends, but I found myself actually enjoying going along, even if I couldn’t make myself say much.
She asked me about it at some point near the end of the year, and I confessed that I wanted to be a more active participant and that I really did like everyone in the group, but my tongue would freeze up every time I thought about chiming in. She brightened up and said she had the perfect solution, and then she handed me some pills out of a prescription bottle of hers. She said they helped her with her anxiety, and as she was pre-med, she couldn’t see how they wouldn’t help me with mine!
I took one before the next time I went out with the group. I remember that I finally carpe’d the diem, so to speak, and did speak. I remember the shocked glances back and forth, and then the admiring laughter, and then some prompts directed at me to get me to say more, which I did, and which her - my - our friends absolutely ate up! I just can’t remember what exactly I said.
I was an English major, but I’d tutored enough aspiring psychologists and psychiatrists in writing to have figured that her dosage might have been too high for me. When the time came for me to give an end-of-semester presentation where I knew the material inside and out but dreaded how I was going to get my mouth to communicate it in front of the class, I took half a pill. I remember the stunned applause at the end of my talk. I still have the professor’s notes, praising me for my in-depth understanding of the topic and the grace and fluency I used communicating it to the class, which he noted that he found surprising considering how he wasn’t sure he’d heard my voice at all up until that point. I just wish his notes had gone over what I actually said, because while I still have the notes, I sure don’t remember how I translated those into a full speech.
Those pills, first my roommate’s and then my own after we both graduated and went on to study at our respective doctoral levels, got me through classes, dates, conferences, a graduation speech, teaching assistantships in which I was teaching the class of 101-level freshmen, more conferences and presentations. I remember none of what I have ever actually said during these events, only the applause afterwards and the comments from students and hookups alike at how clearly and eloquently I expressed myself. Tomorrow, those pills will get me through my dissertation defense. I don’t expect I’ll remember any of that, either, nor do I expect I’ll remember any of the classes I teach if I do take my alma mater up on its offer to hire me for a highly coveted tenure-track position.
I would be a fool to turn them down, but at the same time, I would like to have a career or something I can remember! Fate, I understand that my flawed coping methods are mine to deal with, but couldn’t you have let me have a single room when I was a freshman like I begged Student Accommodations for so I could have avoided this dilemma entirely?
I can only open the door to your self-imposed cage, my little chickadee, and perhaps offer you a treat if you stick your head out and listen to what the world beyond has to offer. Whether you choose to fly out and find your own treats is now entirely up to you. Was that a good enough metaphor to pass muster in your writing seminars, professor?
#tongue-tied#the blessing and curse of modern medicine#shy#socially awkward#social lubricant#amnesia#fate#questioning fate#questioning your fate
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Data Science Course
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Eastern Tennessee
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I was shocked and devastated when dad told us the news. He had gotten a new surveying job good for at least five years, and since there aren't a lot of career advancements for geologists he had taken the offer immediately. So we would all move to some shit town in East Tennessee. Mom would teach kids whatever hadn't been banned knowledge by the state, my little sister would continue elementary there, and I would spend my high school years in some backwater school with barely any students. I distinctly remember staring at the remainder of the mash on my plate, and how unappetizing it had turned as the news was told to me. They wanted to make all the preparations before they told us to "not worry us" in case it fell through.
I asked if I could be excused and left the table, the parents, the plate, the mash and walked to my room without waiting for a reply. Perhaps there was one. I didn't care. I just had to talk to Timothy. I just lied in bed with a headset on and talked and cursed and cried with him on the other side of our private discord chat room. They didn't know I had a boyfriend. They didn't even know I was gay, and I saw no point in telling them either. We wouldn't stay, I couldn't bring Tim with me, and given where we were heading I probably couldn't be openly gay either. It was just best if no one knew. We both knew this would be the end for us. We would be living states apart during our most hormone-filled years. If we still felt the same for each other in three years, once it was time for college, then perhaps we could try to get together, but I thought it was just cruel to keep him waiting while we grew apart. He didn't see it like that of course. He wanted to be the harbor I could sail back to after three years of exile, but I've read enough Greek mythology to know how that ends. Black sails and drownings.
They'd done a lot of work behind our backs, our parents, so only six weeks later, just after school closed for summer we packed our shit into the back of a semi. Our last night at the only house I've ever lived in was spent sleeping on the floor. Early next morning we packed ourselves into our car and begun our three-day journey to East Tennessee. By the time we arrived at our much bigger house and much smaller town the moving company had already placed our stuff in the different rooms. Still in boxes though, except for the furniture. I didn't go to bed until three in the morning, and probably tossed around all night unable to sleep. I must have, because mum woke me up around nine.
I went with dad to town to check it out. We of course had a long list of stuff we needed to get, but I wanted to see what stores and fast food places were around. It wasn't the local businesses that caught my eye though. Everywhere I looked I just saw smoking hot guys. Tight wrangler blue jeans, cut off shirts or flannels, and Ford or Chevy ball caps. Most of all though people had the kind of look you get from working outdoors. Tanned skin, sun-bleached hair, and lean muscles. I followed dad around all the shops on our list, hoping no one would notice my boner.
That's when I decided what I had to do: go undercover as a redneck. Two-thirds of my wardrobe had to go. I didn't know if my west coast apparel would go down as hip or attract bullying, so I spent the next week looking at guys my age and really taking note of what they were wearing. What brands? What colors? What haircuts? When I felt confident I knew the essence of the look I begged mum for new clothes, without telling her why. She relented and allowed me a few items, so I could combine them with what I already had to pass as local.
The day after, luckily after the nearest barber had made an excellent job in turning my well-styled but now far too long hair into a hair helmet, I found out that a neighbor one street away was about my age. Dylan was one year older and his summer plans had fallen apart. His best friend had to leave to visit some ill relative, so he was happy to show me around. When his friend Jackson came back a week later we all spent the rest of the summer doing things together. Swimming, basket, trekking. All things I hated doing back home and suck at, but somehow they thought it made it even funnier, and they were really proud whenever I progressed.
I couldn't believe how lucky I was when school started. Not only didn't Dylan mind driving me there, in fact he suggested it, but knowing a sophomore as a freshman basically made me bully-proof. Not that I really had to worry. We were all new to high school, and only about half of my class knew each other from before. We had people from the creeks and shitholes all around town bussed in as well. No one even suspected I wasn't from nearby until we had to introduce ourselves. Some people were excited and wanted to know more about how life was at the coast, but in the end it wasn't a big deal. It wasn't until I got home, reliving the day in my head, I realized all that time with Dylan and Jackson had turned my accent into passable enough East Tennessee local.
The school was small enough that you could basically join whatever sports team you signed up for, at least as freshman. It was more a question of what training times were compatible. I ended up joining the football and soccer teams. Somehow soccer turned out to be the more competitive out of the two, with the school soccer team doing well against other schools. I hadn't expected that.
Once it was getting close to thanksgiving Jackson asked me if I was interested in some extra cash. One of the stores needed more people for restocking and was desperate to fill it ahead of the holidays. The schedule clashed with soccer practice, but it was probably wise to stick to just one team anyway. And the 70 lbs repeated lifting requirement promised some bonus exercise that would be wasted on the soccer.
It wasn't all roses and touchdowns though. Nothing is as unguarded as the shit talk in the locker room after a loss, so I got to know what most of the guys really thought. I can think of several individuals who would beat me bloody if they knew they had been in a shower room with a gay. What I heard from some of the real employees at the store was even worse, narrow-minded exclusion politics. I wasn't even sure how Dylan would react. I decided to follow the plan, get good grades so I could get far away, and do my best to blend in. Learn to ride with Coleson, shoot AR-15 with Eric's dad, get the best body I could, and count down to leaving.
That was three years ago, before I was accepted into college. I considered bringing all the old clothes with me when coming out of the closet, but I realized they no longer fit in any sense of the word. I decided to show up at the dorm wearing the state national dress, tight wrangler blue jeans, cutoff T, and ballcap. It's good I did, because no matter how fucking hard I try I can't speak anything but rural East Tennessee. The disguise got stuck. What I didn't expect was the reception when I went to the first student gay party. The guy on bouncer duty was very hesitant to let me in, fearing I would start some homophobic shit the first chance I got, but once inside it was a different thing. Turns out quite a lot of them would fancy being fucked by a quarterback while being spoken to in southern.
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"Through white God’s teachings, I learned about the supremacy of certain interpretations of the Bible over others, and through these interpretations I became good at quietly accepting contradictions. While I knew that women were created in the image of God, I learned that men were the superior creation. I learned how to embrace the queer community so long as they acted straight and had no voice in the church. I learned that loving my neighbor was important so long as they weren’t children or families risking their lives to escape violence in Central America, violence resulting from the days when the U.S. helped overthrow their governments.
I learned that zygotes, embryos, and fetuses were valued citizens, while those who benefit from public assistance to raise their children are not. I learned that any initiatives for supporting trafficking victims were worthy causes so long as the victims resemble white Jesus and not like the undocumented folks who sustain the economy. In 2020, I learned how white God agrees that 'Black lives matter', but only because all lives matter — particularly 'blue' lives...
My relationship with white Jesus spanned 32 years until 2020, when I finally saw that my proximity to him was really a proximity to white supremacy — in particular, white supremacy that was centered in the holy trinity of imperialism, capitalism, and patriarchy...
So much of my life has revolved around the evangelical church, but this year my disillusionment with the faith I grew up with led me to leave. No amount of mental gymnastics could bridge the dissonance that came from listening to Sunday sermons and worship about God’s love while entire communities continue bearing the unequal burden of injustice. The events that have unfolded in 2020 have helped me see how the the Christianity I was socialized in, the one that glorifies the theological interpretations of a few white men, has been used as an industry to erase BIPOC struggles, voices, histories, and cultures. 2020 has also been a hard year for my partner and I, who have entered a season of grief that has stretched us to new breaking points. The Christianity that offers cute platitudes and the promise of white Jesus in the face of crushing tension and chaos is not for me.
I represent a large segment of folks from East Asian immigrant communities in the United States who were grafted into evangelical Christianity. Despite attending churches that were predominantly Asian or Asian American, these spaces were modeled after dominant American Christianity values — values that promote turning a blind eye to injustice caused and perpetuated by the faith. The benefits of staying with white Jesus were substantial — I cherish both my theological security in being set apart and my relational security in being surrounded by people who I love as family. But the cost of staying with white Jesus involves affirming a theology that imbues white and white-aligning communities while marginalizing, disenfranchising, separating, terrorizing, erasing, and murdering BIPOC communities in varying ways...
Currently, I’m searching for this other Jesus — the brown-skinned Middle Eastern Jesus who was born in the margins, lived in the margins and died in the margins. I’m searching for the Jesus who entered this world in the barn of a rural village. The Jesus who was born out of wedlock to an uneducated teenage girl of unremarkable social standing and raised by his adoptive father. The Jesus who never accumulated wealth, never owned a home, never pastored at a church, never married, and who worked a blue-collar job his whole life.
I want to know the Jesus whose death exemplified a life lived in opposition to systems that prescribed authority to certain groups over others. The Jesus who upset the religious elite by who he sought to befriend. The Jesus who found solidarity with those who were denied power in his time — women, children, anarchists, laborers, foreigners, outsiders — and centered their narratives."
- Melody Liao-Chamberlain, from "My Twisted Fantasy of White Jesus: How My Proximity to Evangelical Christianity Was Really a Proximity to White Supremacy." inheritance, 1 October 2020.
#melody liao-chamberlain#quote#quotations#christian theology#evangelicalism#bipoc#black lives matter#blm#white supremacy#racism#bias#american christianity#american culture#conservativism#white jesus#imperialism#capitalism#patriarchy
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