#33 years ago

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

That ASL Protest I was a part of, in '91...

That I wrote about here:

May, 1991: I was one of a couple dozen students at my university protesting to keep ASL as an accepted fulfillment of foreign language study (I remember we were trying to meet with higher-ups in the Languages Department, but they kept changing their meeting location; we were basically chasing them around campus. It was a bit theater of the absurd, actually)

Actually made it into the following Sunday's New York Times. I found it online when I took a stab at an Internet Search to double-check my memory. NYT requires you to set up an account and choose a password to read anything... And they've had a transphobic bias in some of their editorials.

So I copied out the whole thing, so you can read it here without supporting them (besides, I was there). Enjoy this story of my reckless (?) youth:

Campus Life: SUNY, Stony Brook; Sign Language: Foreign Or Merely an Easy A?

(Unnamed Staff Writer, New York Times. Sunday, May 26, 1991, Section 1. Page 45)

Students at the State University of New York at Stony Brook do not have to speak to fulfill their undergraduate foreign language requirement.

Stony Brook currently accepts a one-year series of American Sign Language courses to satisfy its foreign language requirement, but some faculty members are questioning both the policy and the quality of the sign-language courses.

Thomas Kerth, chairman of the Germanic and Slavic languages department, provoked student protests this month when he recommended, on behalf of several foreign language department chairmen, that American Sign Language be removed as a course that fulfilled the undergraduate requirement.

In a memorandum earlier this month to the Foreign Language Proficiency Committee, a university advisory committee on student requirements, Professor Kerth wrote that American Sign Language did not "fulfill the purpose" of the foreign language requirement because it was not foreign. He also said the course was an "easy A," which had caused its enrollment to "grow out of all proportion" while enrollment had dropped sharply in other foreign language courses. 60% Receive A's, Critic Says

Professor Kerth said more than 60 percent of American Sign Language students received an A. "This has led some of us to believe that the popularity of sign language has but little to do with the commitment to the hearing-impaired," he wrote, "and a great deal to do with the grading pattern."

In response to the memo, more than 30 students held a protest earlier this month in front of the administration building and gathered more than 1,000 student signatures urging the university to continue accepting American Sign Language for the foreign language requirement.

[Jumping in here with an aside: If I recall correctly, us chasing the Language Dept.'s higher-ups was in an attempt to deliver that petition]

"The professor is afraid of losing his job," Dane Spirio, a junior English major from Old Bethpage, L.I., and organizer of the protest, said of Professor Kerth. "He's afraid fewer people will take his class because of sign language's popularity."

Prof. Roman de la Campa, chairman of the department of comparative literature, called for "controls" on the American Sign Language courses. He said he thought sign language should be allowed to fulfill the foreign language requirement, but not in its present form.

"When you have hundreds of people taking a course, and over 50 percent get A's, there is a question," Professor de la Campa said. He added that sign language courses "should have full-time faculty who have a scholarly investment." The courses are currently taught by adjunct professors who are hired course by course.

Lou Deutsch, chairwoman of the Hispanic language department, said American Sign Language was not a foreign language and condemned the frequency of high grades in the class.

But Mark Aronoff, chairman of the linguistics department, said, "The internal structure of the words is similar to Latin, Sanskrit, Navajo or Eskimo."

Lawrence Forestal, a sign language instructor, said Mr. Kerth's information on the number of students who received A's was "exaggerated."

Mr. Forestal, who is deaf, urged the the University Senate's Curriculum Committee, which determines student requirements, to allow sign language students and deaf people to address the committee before a decision was made. "How can the committee set such policies without real knowledge of sign language?" he asked.

Charles Franco, chairman of the Foreign Language Proficiency Committee, said: "I can see both sides of the argument." He said the committee would have a recommendation for the University Senate by the beginning of the fall semester.

###

For the record: I remember a lot of people in my ASL class (Taught by the same Mr. Lawrence Forestal quoted here) admitted to signing up for it because they thought it was going to be an "Easy A." I also remember them complaining: "This is hard!" and "I don't get it." So... Y'know....

Also, Mr. Forestal was not only Deaf, but his parents were Deaf, and all his siblings. So ASL was his native language. That complaint about needing to be a full-time faculty, in order to have a true "scholarly investment" is just classist B.S.

[socialistexan]

Beware of The Trans, because this is what 3 years on hormones does to you!

You may also gain fulfillment, happiness, and the ability to look at yourself in the mirror and not see a stranger!

Nov 2020 -> Nov 2023

[rjshope]

the brightest star

for @cosmicdreamgrl✨

[lanlishiba]

DULL SNAS!!! DULL SANS MY SON MY EVERYTHING !!

[izloveshorses]

anya + flinching at loud noises and sudden movements (vs dmitry noticing, adjusting his behavior, and becoming a source of comfort)

[finngualart]

im gonna write my thoughts about this in the tags

[herewegobebe]

SHINee ✦ 'Sherlock' 12th anniversary

[creating-leviathan]

IVE RETURNED TO MY BSD MER!AU ROOTS!!!

[otrtbs]

ART HEIST, BABY OUTTAKES (From The Vault)

SUMMARY: Two scrapped scenes from Art Heist, Baby! that didn't make the cut. Done in celebration of the one year anniversary of Art Heist, Baby! being complete! (Where did all the time go?)

WORD COUNT: 2k

(okay, for clarity, the first scene takes place sometime between chapter 15 and chapter 16 of Art Heist, Baby! and the second scene takes place during chapter 37 of Art Heist, Baby! One Regulus and one James POV <3)

“Oof.” 

Regulus can’t help the smile that flashes across his face, there and then gone, at James’ little noise of surprise. James doesn’t have time to say anything else before Regulus’ mouth is on his, kissing him in fervent, electric delight that only secrecy could inspire. 

Regulus always loves this best, pulling James into some room on the third floor after he dismisses the rest of the class. His hands running over the soft fabric of James’ shirt or the smooth expanse of his torso underneath as he hears Mary and Lily tear through the halls just beyond the closed door laughing, or Peter humming to himself softly as he makes his way down the stairs. All of them completely unaware that just behind the door they unknowingly walked past, Regulus was snogging James Potter's face off and attempting to shove his hands down his trousers. It’s times like these when Regulus curses himself for making all his stupid rules about the heist. He’d much rather be able to drag James through the hallways of this house and into his bedroom without a care in the world of who they happened to pass by.

“If you could be anything in the world, what would you want to be?” James gasps, his head falling back against the wall Regulus has him pressed up against. “But you can’t say what you are now, you have to pick something different.”

His cheeks are flushed and he’s halfway to looking debauched already. Just how Regulus likes him. 

“Because, personally, I think I would want to be a dragon or something,” James continues once it’s clear Regulus has no intention of answering. “A red dragon that could breathe fire and fly. That would be cool. Oh, or I would be a Renaissance jouster. I could ride up on my horse and ask you for your favour in front of the whole kingdom. That would be fun.” A beat of silence. “What about you?”

Regulus lets out a derisive noise as he detaches his lips from James’ neck. “Seriously?” 

“You could be anything. Not just career-wise. But you could be a rock in a stream or a cloud or a microwave.” 

“James,” Regulus isn’t proud of the way he almost whines at this. They have very few minutes before lunch will be ready and then they’ll be called downstairs. 

“Just humour me for a minute, Regulus,” James grins as Regulus pulls away, shushing him slightly in case someone walks by and hears them. “Please,” he whispers, still smiling radiantly. 

This wasn’t a new thing for James. He was always asking Regulus all sorts of questions. When he said he wanted to know any and everything about Regulus, he meant it. And of course, because James was James, Regulus would always indulge him.

“Okay, give me a moment to think about it,” Regulus sighed, furrowing his brows. “And I can’t just pick to be who I am now and move on with it?” 

“Nope,” James shook his head, placing his hands behind his back as leaned against the door. “That’s against the rules.” 

It was a silly question, but Regulus still found himself thinking about it thoughtfully. If he could be anything, what would he want to be? 

Strangely, his mind wandered to Sirius. 

Sirius, who was so close but still seemed so far away. Sirius, who would throw himself in front of Walburga and Orion’s rage to protect Regulus every time, even when Regulus didn’t deserve it. Sirius who would knock on Regulus’ door in the middle of the night just to make sure that he was okay, who asked him what he was learning in school when his parents couldn’t be bothered, who made sure Regulus kept warm in the winter, who always remembered his birthday even when nobody else did. And how did Regulus repay him? He chose to stay with his parents instead of leaving with Sirius, even after all of that, and now Sirius hates him, and probably always would. 

If he could be anything in the world, he supposes he’d want to be a good brother, or, at least a better one than he was in this life. Or maybe he’d want to be brave. Brave like Sirius. Brave like James. And maybe that bravery would help him to be a better brother. 

He frowned at the sinking feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure he liked this game anymore. 

Quickly, he looked at James who was eagerly awaiting his answer with a smile on his face. 

James who wanted to be a fucking dragon or a jousting knight wanted this game to be fun. Something light. 

“Well, I guess I’d be the Prince of the kingdom giving you my favour in front of everyone before your big joust,” he says after a moment, giving a small smile as something in James’ face softens. 

“You’d want that?” He asks, looking at Regulus through his glasses that were still lopsided from Regulus’ previous fierce snogging. 

Regulus bit his bottom lip and shrugged. Going where James went didn’t seem like such a bad idea. If James would let him, if James would want him to. Maybe some of his bravery would rub off on him somehow. “Sure, why not?”

James’ hand shakes as he reaches for the pink sticky note. He can’t bring himself to feel embarrassed by it, even though Evan and Barty are standing right behind him, ready with the painting and a ruler and a tape measurer and everything else you could possibly need to ensure that a painting is perfectly centred and straight on a wall. 

For a minute he just stares at it, hand outstretched and trembling, taking in Regulus’ curly handwriting. James wonders if Regulus put a lot of thought into this sticky note. If he hovered the pen over the sheet of paper and thought long and hard about what painting he wanted. If Regulus went through every room in their house envisioning the perfect place to hang this painting, trying to place the pink sticky note above the spot where he wanted their bed to be, or in the hallway across from the kitchen, or upstairs. Taking it down and re-sticking it to different places until he found the perfect one. He wonders if Regulus had gone over every painstaking detail in his mind just as James had done over these last two years, or if he had just known. 

It’s silly, hesitating over a sticky note like this. It had fallen down from its spot on the wall numerous times over the weeks and months that it had been there. So why was it so hard to take it down now? It’s what Regulus wanted, and James never had any issue with the other sticky notes. He buzzed around the house, taking each sticky note down with him as he went about unpacking Regulus' books and planting a garden and filling up the closet. He didn’t throw any of the notes out either, though. Instead, he kept them in a small box at the back of his closet for safekeeping. That’s exactly where this sticky note would go if he could just bring himself to take it down. 

Barty lets out a little sigh from behind him and James turns around just in time to see Evan elbow him harshly in the ribs and the spell is broken. 

With trembling fingers James pluckes the sticky note off the wall, a little bit of paint coming up with the reinforcement tape he had added to ensure the paper stopped falling down, and held it to his chest tightly. Quietly, without looking away from the spot where the sticky note had been he whispered to Barty and Evan, “Alright, let’s put it up.”

That night James dreams constantly. 

He dreams of the waves crashing against the shore of his favourite beach with reckless abandon and he dreams of car chases and gilded frames and the smell of turpentine, but most importantly, he dreams of Regulus. 

“It’ll be sunny and warm there. I love the sunlight you know,” Regulus murmurs sleepily.

They’re in the house in New Hampshire together and Regulus is starting his favourite activity of only opening up in the dark, when he doesn’t have to see or be seen, but James doesn’t mind. 

“Hmm?” he hums, pulling him closer. It’s late, and James guesses that he only has a couple of hours before he has to be up learning about the heist from one of Regulus' many classes. 

“In Brazil. The warmth, the light. I don’t know, I feel like the rays will hit my chest and dislodge all the dark sludge from my heart, and for a moment I can just sit there and be golden and bright. It’s foolish,” Regulus sighs and James can hear his frown, even in the dark. Always like the tides, pushing in and pulling back.  

“I don’t think so,” he responds quickly. “I think it’s nice.” He attempts to hold Regulus tighter, to warm him up somehow because he sounds a little too sad tonight for James’ liking and he’s starting to feel strangely cold in his arms. “But for the record, I’ve always thought you were pretty fucking bright and brilliant, Regulus.”

Regulus has a habit of seeing himself as something dark and stormy. Something turbulent and destructive, but James knows better. James knows the truth. 

Regulus hums lightly, something soft and sweet. “I know, James. It’s a nice thought.” 

James wants to say something else, he wants to run his fingers through Regulus’ hair and kiss his forehead and convince him of his warmth, but before he gets the chance to, he wakes up. 

For a long while, James just lays there, flat on his back, unmoving in the aftermath. He listens to the beat of his heart and his shallow breathing. It had been several weeks since James had dreamed of Regulus like this. 

He used to hate it. He used to find the reminder of Regulus’ absence unbearable when he opened his eyes, but these days he doesn’t mind it. 

When he dreams of Regulus now, it makes it missing him a little bit better. He always misses Regulus, but this way it feels like James just got to see him. It makes it seem as if the last time James got to see Regulus was just the day before instead of two years ago. 

“Oh, Regulus? Yeah, I just saw him last night.”

“I held him in my arms only yesterday.”

Sometimes it’s a comforting thought to have. 

“You would love Brazil, Reg,” James whispers in the dark to his ceiling. Alone in his empty bedroom. “I hope it’s sunny and bright wherever you are. I hope you're not cold.” 

Barty and Evan stick around for a little while after the painting is put up. They field several calls of anger and astonishment from Sirius both from their phones and from James’ phone. They attempt to convince James to come back to Vegas with them for the thousandth time, but he declines. It’ll be good for him to sit in the house for a while, now that it’s finally finished. 

It feels like an end in so many ways, but not in the mournful way James expected it to. It felt as complete as it possibly could be without Regulus. Always there, like a chip in his favourite mug. Not shattered, still usable, but always with a quick sting of pain if you nicked your lip on the chipped rim. Still, it was the only mug James would ever want to drink out of.

He looks forward to discovering what new beginning this end will bring about for him. He can only hope that it's a nice one.

While he doesn't take Barty and Evan up on their offer to come back to Vegas with them, he does take them to the airport. He walks them as far as they will let him go and waves goodbye until they are out of sight and begins the journey back to his little house. 

He thinks about the simple things. Things he needs to buy from the store– more lemons, some cleaner, cinnamon. He makes a note to call Marlene to fill her in on his recent adventures, and reminds himself that it’s about time to check the financial accounts to ensure everything was still running smoothly. 

He lets these thoughts fill his mind all the way until he gets home, and when he opens the door to his house, to their house, he sees the painting. A ship sailing bravely through the blue ocean, cutting through the waves into the unknown expanses beyond. He smiles to himself as he sees it lit up in a brilliant warm glow. The rays of the sun kiss it gently and fill it with radiance. Then, ever so softly, James closes the door behind him.

[ahalliance]

American-validated Frenchge 🥖

transcript below

[Video Transcript begins:

[Video starts mid-sentence]

Etoiles: —and you put this face— next to the camera! Like this!

Foolish: (laughing) You’re so French!

Etoiles: I’m so French, that’s my main problem. Like I’m so French, I try sometimes to nerf myself and be like, less French

Etoiles: But that feels good to hear this because you say I’m so French and like, some racist people in France think I’m not because I’m Arabic too, so—

Foolish: Ohhhh

Etoiles: —that feels good too, you know

Foolish: No dude, you seem like a French ass French person—

Etoiles: (laughing)

Foolish: I don’t know how else to put it. Simply put

Etoiles: That feels good, man. I was saying hello to Tarik and all his chat was saying like Frenchge, the emote they are putting—

Foolish: Oh yeah

Etoiles: —the emote they are putting. Yeah, yeah, yeah

Video Transcript ends.]

[fereldanwench]

miranda outfit coming soon from dusty2077 ♡

⚠️ do not reupload or edit my shots without my permission ⚠️

[mengyan]

“I don’t want it to just be ‘me’ and ‘you’ anymore,” she mumbles, outstretching an unsteady hand. Shangguan Qian is so far away that she can’t even brush the edge of her clothes, let alone grasp her. “Can we… Can we be an ‘us’ again? Please?”

Yun Weishan watches Shangguan Qian carefully for her answer, sifting through the fog of the sea in her eyes. Wearing white and framed by the candlelight, she looks a little too unreal, like she doesn’t belong in the same plane as her at all.

Shangguan Qian exhales. She glances at her hand, keeping it hovering, trembling in mid-air.

“That’s not up to me, is it?” she returns. “What about you, Yun Weishan? Will you show me mercy, or will this all end the same way?”

破晓; daybreak

🌤️ of ten thousand journeys, the path home is the longest one to walk. 🌊 estimated 63k~70k (total) 🌤️ a post-canon fix-it— or, how shangguan qian and yun weishan change each other’s ending 🌊 starting october 25th, this fic will update every friday around 7 PM EST! 🌤️ with cover art and illustrations by the incomparable @notedchampagne <3

link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58230550

[foursaints]

do you have opinion of gildory lockhart?? I adore your versions of characters and was wondering cause I live seeing how people interpret the bastard

that man is literally just wizard jeremy fragrance. to me

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

there have now been two "i told you when we first met" in as many episodes?

[thesapphocinephile]

The Silence of the Lambs

February 14, 1991

[ribbonpinky-art]

sideyshowy bobby