#Early childhood language immersion

[spanishplaydates]

Preschoolers - WEATHER Song & Activity | Spanish Play Dates

[cedargirl89]

Ojibwemodaa! Let’s speak Ojibwe!

Gidaa-giziibiigininjiin- you should wash your hands

Wiisinidaa- let’s eat!

Geyaabi wiisinin! Keep eating!

Gimino-pidaan ina? Do you like the taste of it?

Aaniin ezhinikaazoyin? What are you called/what’s your name?

Cedar indizhinikaaz- I’m called Cedar

How old are you? Aaniin endaso-biboonigiziyan?

I’m 34 years old. Nisimidana shi niiwin nimbiboonigiz.

Ambegish minwendaman ji-ani-gimendaman owe! I hope you enjoyed learning this!

[maaarine]

Women and Girls with Autism Spectrum Disorder: Understanding Life Experiences from Early Childhood to Old Age (Sarah Hendrickx, 2015)

“Interestingly, one of the findings from research into sex differences in children with autism was that girls with autism do not have the same stereotypical, rigid interests as boys.

My research certainly found that repetitive and restricted behaviours were completely the norm for the girls studied but that topic type differed.

A small number of activities came up time and time again as being favourites for repetition: watching the same TV/video/DVD programme (e.g., Mary Poppins, Postman Pat, Peppa Pig), reading the same book (e.g., an Enid Blyton book, Jane Eyre), listening to the same song/tape.

The scripts and lyrics of their favourite shows, books and songs were all known verbatim by the children. Collecting and sorting specific objects were also mentioned.  (…)

Boys’ interests tend to be object-based – trains, dinosaurs, space – while girls’ interests tend to be people- or animal-based – soap operas, fictional characters, animals and celebrities.

This qualitative difference can explain why girls’ behaviour may not be noted as being unusual, due to the ‘typical girl’ nature of their interests.

Whereas a boy who quotes endless facts about ancient history, rather than playing football with his peers, may be flagged as atypical, a girl who obsesses about a pop star would not necessarily be seen in the same way.

The difference between the interests of a girl with autism and a typical child is the narrowness of the topic and the intensity of the interest.

These girls with ASD have single-track focus; they do not think or speak of anything other than their passion for an extended period.

They may have extensive knowledge of their subject but have more of a factual interest than a desire to live it out.

A child who speaks of nothing but horses may not actually want a horse, but just enjoys the facts about horses.

I believe that the interest provides the same outcomes for both girls and boys on the autism spectrum; once immersed in your subject of interest, there is a predictability and escape from the chaotic real world.

Knowing everything about a subject makes it known and provides a sanctuary from the anxiety and stress of a feeling of not knowing what’s going to happen most of the time.

Animals in general are a popular interest as they are far easier to deal with than people for many females with autism: their intentions are clear (no hidden agendas), their non-verbal language is minimal (cats don’t pull too many facial expressions), their needs are easily identified and their attachment and affection are unconditional and unchanging.

Some girls identify so strongly with animals that they imagine or wish themselves to be one.”

[soleilceirinen]

The older I get | Shelby family x sister!Reader Modern AU

Summary: after being away for years, you must return to Small Heath to face the loss of a beloved one. But, will you be able to forgive the past and leave it behind? A/N: English is not my first language, sorry in advance if something makes no sense. Warning: death of a family member, angst. Words: 3.1k

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

"Y/N? Honey, are you still there?" Lizzie's soft voice echoed through the phone. 

"Yes, thanks for calling," you said, fighting back the urge to cry. "Hey, why hasn't he called me?" 

Lizzie sighed tiredly. "He's busy with work. Besides, he wanted someone else to tell you in case you didn't take it well." 

"How the hell am I supposed to take this?" You asked with anger filling your veins. It wasn't Lizzie's fault and it wasn't fair to take out your frustration on her but you couldn't help it.

"I know," she conceded, "but you know your brother, he's having a hard time. Everyone's having a hard time."

Despite the lump in your throat, you nodded. Of course you understood but that didn't make you feel any better. Your Aunt Polly had just died and you had to find out through your brother's ex-wife. 

"Thank you for taking the time to call me, see you tomorrow, well in a few hours," you hung up the phone and threw it hard against the mattress, it bounced several times before falling to the floor. The noise that the device made when it hit the ground resonated like an explosion in the silence of the night. 

The tears you had been holding back rolled freely down your cheeks. You fell down on the bed, burying your face in the pillow and letting out a choked sob. 

It was too late to go to Birmingham, or too early, depending on how you looked at it. In a few hours you would take the first train so you could attend the funeral. You weren't sure what scared you more, facing the reality that Polly was gone or being in the same room with all your siblings again after seven years apart.

-

Since you couldn't fall asleep in the remaining hours until dawn, you packed some clothes and personal items, not many because you didn't plan to stay in Birmingham for too long, and tidied up your room. Cleaning would keep your mind busy. 

The train ride was a fucking nightmare. Despite it being so early, your car was full of people, people with children who couldn't stop screaming and running between the seats. Wasn't anyone capable of teaching their children some manners? The boy right behind you had been kicking the back of your seat for more than twenty minutes, the damn thing. 

Taking a deep breath, you rested your head on the window as you watched the landscape and tried not to think. The soft rattle of the train rocked you as if trying to comfort you. However, it was not that simple. Memories of your childhood in Small Heath flooded your mind, some of them good, some others the kind you would have liked to banish from your memory. The kind of ones that made you take the decision to put some distance between you and your family in the first place.

Finn and you, as twins, were the youngest with a considerable age difference compared to the rest of your siblings. Due to family problems, your parents had always been absent from your life, so your Aunt Poll practically raised you as her own. Polly was the closest thing you had ever had to a mother figure. 

Your childhood and adolescence weren’t easy. Deep down you felt bad for thinking like that, you knew that your older brothers had had it worse while your father still lived with them, but still. As a teenager nothing seemed fair.

It was all screams and arguments, a house immersed in violence. Aunt Polly began to drink more and more, Arthur only thinking of his drugs or who knows what, which caused more fights. When the shouting started you used to run to your room and close the door, getting  into bed, covering your head with a blanket and listening to music at full volume until your ears hurt.

And then you prayed just as Polly had taught you. You prayed that you would fall asleep and wake up with another family, a normal family where no one screamed or came back in the middle of the night beaten up and  covered in blood.

You wiped away the tears falling down your cheeks with the back of your hand as you noticed a little girl staring at you. 

"Why are you crying?" she asked in a squeaky childish voice.

Before you had time to make up any excuse a man who must have been her father spoke out loud, clearly making fun of you.

"She broke up with her boyfriend, right, pretty face?"

The look you gave him could rival Tommy's. No one would hesitate to say that you were a Shelby. Slowly, his smile faded from his  face and he looked away embarrassed, grabbing the girl by the arm to make her return to her seat. 

-

When you finally got off the train, your eyes were swollen and your nose was red from crying. You took a couple steps through the station and then stopped. Who were you looking for? You didn't even know if anyone was going to pick you up. 

“Y/N!”

Turning around, you looked everywhere trying to find who was calling you. They could be calling someone else but the voice was too familiar to be a mistake. And then you saw him, a few metres from the entrance, greeting you with his arm and a huge smile. 

"Hello, Isaiah," you said with a small voice. He wrapped his strong arms around you in a tight hug and you buried your face in his chest, a position similar to the one you two shared the last time you said goodbye. 

"How are you?" He asked when you stepped away but he immediately rolled his eyes. "Sorry, that was a stupid question." 

"It's okay, I'm fine. What about you?"

He shrugged. "Great, given the circumstances. I have the privilege of picking up and bringing home the princess of Small Heath," he joked, winking playfully. 

You hit him on the arm, of course not hurting him. You followed him only to stop next to the car, he took your bag and put it in the trunk. Once inside, Isaiah pulled out and placed his cell phone on your thigh. "You can choose the music."

The ride was quiet, both of you listening to your favourite songs and humming or making up the lyrics from time to time, like when you were teenagers and ran away from home along with Finn. 

"Why did you come to pick me up at the train station?" 

Isaiah glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, not really taking his eyes off the road and remained silent for a few seconds. "Why, am I not enough for you?" he joked, in an attempt to light up the mood. 

"I won’t hit you because you're driving" you murmured, he laughed softly. "My brothers, why have none of them come? I know Ada was busy with the kids, she texted but they haven’t even talked to me.”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I don't know. You should talk to them about that. You've been away for many years, they've changed." 

You nodded silently. It had started to rain. "Sure. Thanks for coming to pick me up, Isaiah." 

He squeezed your leg. "You know I'll always be there for you."

-

The rain was now pouring fiercely as a reflection of your current mood. 

Everything in the house screamed Polly, every corner reminded you of your childhood. It would always keep fascinating you how a simple scent could bring you back in time so easily. Blinking rapidly, you tried to clear your cloudy sight. Ada stepped in front of you, hugging you and murmuring comforting words in your ear and you leaned into her. You had missed her so much in the past few years. 

As a little girl you felt devotion towards your only sister. You wanted to spend time with her, sometimes you stole her make up and she ended up mad at you because of it. The rest of the time she just pushed you away, not wanting to babysit you. Back then you thought it was unfair but now you understand, Ada was a teenager and she wanted to go out with her friends and her boyfriend, not staying at home with two little kids. 

However, as you got older, it was more and more common for your sister to call to include you in her life. 

"Will you stay with me and the children? Hey, Y/N. Are you listening to me?"

You looked at her worried face and nodded. “Yeah, thanks Ada. I don’t want to spend more time here than necessary.”

Ada rubbed your arm as she gave you a sympathetic look. “I know, dear. Have you seen the others? Or Polly?”

Your heart jumped against your ribs with fury. “No, not yet.”

“Y/N!” Arthur called out, striding towards your direction. He stopped a step away from you, undecided whether to give you a hug or not. He looked thinner than you remembered. Actually, he looked older. You were the one who stepped forward and hugged his slender body. He reciprocated right away, burying his face in your hair and sobbing. 

“It’s okay, Arthur” you whispered against his chest. 

Taking a step back, you stared at him once again, mentally thanking that he wasn’t the one picking you up from the train station. He was a total mess. 

Somehow, seeing your older brother like that sent a pang of guilt directed to your guts. Arthur used to be energetic, fierce and chaotic, but this man in front of you was nothing like that. He seemed like he needed a warm blanket and a cup of tea, and maybe sleeping for a couple days without worries. 

“Arthur, why don’t we go and talk to Lizzie?” suggested Ada, linking her arm with his and pulling him away. He smiled at you with his blue eyes filled with tears and reached to grab your hand but Ada didn’t let him do it. “Let's give Y/N some space, alright?”

You had been holding your breath without realising it. As soon as they left you alone you let out the air, feeling your lungs deflate. Throughout the house you could hear children screaming while playing, unaware of the sadness that filled the air. They were your nephews and nieces. Mostly John’s kids. You wondered if he was a good father now. When you were ten years old he used to make you watch horror movies such as The Exorcist or It, and then he laughed when you cried terrified at night. 

The lump in your throat became more noticeable, you needed to get out of there.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Finn and Isaiah talking quietly to Michael and a blonde girl you didn't know. Avoiding crossing glances with them, you headed to the kitchen looking for the door that led to the backyard. If you did, you would have to stop and talk to them, exactly what you didn't want to do at that moment.

You weren’t expecting to see Polly’s coffin in one of the rooms so you turned your face away when you walked by its door, almost running until you reached the knob of the door that led to the backyard and turned it, opening the door and stepping outside. The chill wind helped to cool down your feverish cheeks. 

After closing the door behind you, you leaned against the cold wall, eyes closed, trying to calm yourself down. 

I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, you thought, placing a hand over your heart. I'm sorry for not saying goodbye to you, Aunt Polly, for not taking time to tell you how much I loved you. I was angry with all of you. I'm sorry, I promise to think of you and to not forget your name. Polly. Elizabeth Gray. 

Letting out a choked sob, you opened your eyes. You didn't know if Polly was able to hear you, wherever she was now, but you sincerely hoped that your message would reach her somehow. 

Someone clearing their throat made you jump. To your right, leaning against the wall just like you was Tommy, taking long drags on a cigarette, as if his intention was to suck the life out of it. "Damn Tommy, you scared the hell out of me! What are you doing here?" you yelled at him, brushing your hair out of your face and furiously wiping away your tears.

He shrugged and let out a puff of smoke. “Same as you.”

His voice was deep and hoarse, like if he had been crying. He used to be really close to Polly and now that you thought about it, it made sense. Just like Arthur, his appearance surprised you. 

In your memories Tommy was a young man with his freckles and blue eyes, the dark hair slightly curled at the ends when he let it grow and an encouraging smile that he only reserved for you and your siblings. That was the brother who taught you how to ride a bike and how to swim in the canal, how to take care of horses during the summer breaks and the one who used to tell you stories with funny voices whenever you couldn’t sleep at night. 

There was almost nothing of that brother in the man in front of you. Tommy was old. It had been around seven years since you moved away to go to university but time had hit him hard. He was in his forties now and his hair was turning grey in some parts, the wrinkles much more noticeable as well as the deep dark circles under his eyes. 

He threw the remainder of the cigarette on the floor and looked at you thoroughly, as if he were analysing you from head to toe. A mix of emotions crossed his face but you weren’t sure to be interpreting them correctly, such as a slight panic, a bit of sadness and finally something similar to approval. 

“You look good,” he stated, “how is school? Everything alright?”

Your eyes filled with tears once more but this time you didn't hold them back. All the rage that had been growing inside of you since Lizzie called you a few hours earlier came out freely. “I’m not in school anymore Tommy, I’m a PhD student and I’m writing my fucking thesis so don’t talk to me as if I were a stupid child.”

He seemed taken aback by your sudden anger. “It wasn’t my intention to make you feel like that” he apologised before clearing his throat, raising an eyebrow, “but if you haven’t noticed, you’ll always be a kid to me.”

Tommy didn’t let you say anything back, continuing with his speech. He wasn’t looking at you, instead, he stared at some point far away in the distance.

“When you were born I was the first to hold you in my arms. You were so tiny, I could carry your little body with both my hands. Finn started gaining weight so damn fast but you didn’t and we thought you’d never make it” he pursed his lips as you listened in silence, although you had heard him telling you this story many times when you were younger. “Every hour we had to feed you a bottle of formula and it was no bigger than my finger” he pointed his index finger in front of you as a measurement. “It seemed like a toy. But it worked, just look at you now.”

He turned to you and wiped your tears with his callous hands. 

"Tommy, why didn't you tell me Polly was so sick?" you asked quietly, grabbing his wrists.

"You knew she was sick."

"Yes, but not enough to..." To die, you wanted to say, but the words got caught at your throat. 

Your brother sighed and when he looked at you again, he seemed more tired than ever. 

"I didn't want to worry you unnecessarily. You have your life far from here, you yourself wanted it that way. Your priority is your studies, let me finish," he said, pointing a finger at you authoritatively. "What happened to Poll was so sudden, none of us expected this to happen and it has been a hard blow for everyone." 

“I didn’t say goodbye to her,” you muttered. 

Tommy held you against his body, hugging you tightly. “Me neither.”

You looked up at him, scrutinising his face. The rim of his eyes was red and his bottom lip trembled a little despite his attempt to hide it. He seemed somehow fragile. 

“Oh, Tommy,” you whispered, throwing your arms around his neck and letting him bury his face on your shoulder. You felt the wetness of his tears as you caressed the back of his head. “Next time something like this happens, let me know. Call me and I’ll come. I’m not a kid anymore, I’m part of this family too and I can help. You don’t have to go through stuff on your own. Alright?”

As he nodded slightly with his face still pressed against your shoulder you felt the sudden realisation that you had been mistaken most of your life. All you wanted to do was run away from your family in order to be happier, thinking that they wouldn’t need you after living through your whole childhood feeling like a burden, like someone whom they had to take care of.

For years you had hated them because it seemed that they enjoyed being miserable day and night, continuously fighting with each other… you never stopped to think about the reasons behind all those arguments or their actions. But you were older now and life had taught you that we are all humans and we all make mistakes. 

Now everything was different. For once you were the strong one, able to stand by their side to support them. This bunch of sad and broken people were your family and they needed you just as much as you needed them. 

Sometimes it was better to put some distance in order to see things from a different perspective, to heal, you realised as you held the shadow of the man who used to be like a hero to you during your childhood. At the end of the day you would always come back to the place where you belonged. The only thing you regretted was not figuring it out sooner.

[mariacallous]

In her 1996 novel, Fieldwork in Ukrainian Sex, Oksana Zabuzhko wrote that for Ukrainians, “Fear was passed on in the genes.” Zabuzhko, one of the most important living Ukrainian writers, was referring to the childhood fear of saying the wrong thing to the wrong person in the Soviet era. Anyone who approached you could be spying for the KGB, and if you let a careless word slip, the bad men would come “and put Daddy in prison.” But that line captures what Zabuzhko’s novel is about: the inherited fear of oblivion born between the hungry jaws of empire, or what she calls the “eternal Ukrainian curse of nonexistence.”

Fieldwork in Ukrainian Sex was a sensation when it was published in Ukraine, but it took 15 years for it to be translated to English. Even then, it didn’t find a U.S. readership until the full-scale Russian invasion in 2022. The book’s path is emblematic of the tough road to English translation, much less readership, for novels written in Ukrainian. Until this year, not a single novel translated from Ukrainian had been published by a major U.S. publisher.

Tanja Maljartschuk’s Forgottenness, the first to break that barrier, is a book about Ukrainian identity and the struggle against nonexistence. Originally published in 2016, when it won the BBC’s Ukrainian Book of the Year Award, it tells the story of a contemporary Ukrainian writer who becomes obsessed with Viacheslav Lypynskyi, an important Polish figure in the early 20th-century Ukrainian independence movement. Lypynskyi studied Ukrainian at university in the early 1900s, when teaching the language was scandalous; both Russians and Poles considered it “a dialect of either Russian or Polish, or both concurrently.” Printing Ukrainian works was also prohibited, “punishable by imprisonment or exile.”

Throughout history, Ukrainians have faced this paradox: a denial of their existence (Ukrainian isn’t a language) combined with brutal repression (and you are forbidden to speak it). As Maljartschuk writes, the struggle makes many “lose their minds.”

Forgottenness is full of characters shrugging, often in dramatic situations. While American critics often lament shrugs (along with nods and smiles) as lazy dialogue tags, for the Ukrainian writer, the shrug is an important gesture. Soviet-born U.S. writer Gary Shteyngart once wrote, somewhat tongue-in-cheek, that Ukraine’s coat of arms could be a man shrugging. This attitude can easily be mistaken for nihilism, but it is far more complex than that. On its most basic level, it comes from a learned acceptance that many situations are beyond one’s control. For generations of Ukrainians, this acceptance has been necessary to maintain sanity.

Ukrainians have found different ways of shrugging. In Forgottenness, the unnamed narrator remembers how her father, like many Ukrainian men of his generation, became immersed in kung fu in the 1980s, needing to feel like he could protect himself. Her grandfather, after feigning insanity to avoid military service, worked as a forced laborer, melting down church bells that were transported across the Soviet Union to be made into weapons; for years, he responded to most things with a joke, fueling himself on laughter.

She remembers how her grandmother was left at an orphanage by a father who would soon die in the Holodomor, Joseph Stalin’s terror famine of 1932-33, during which millions of Ukrainians starved to death. In an attempt to understand and connect with her family, the narrator asks her mother how this genealogy of suffering affected her. “Mom shrugged. ‘What was there to be affected by? That’s how things were, and that’s all there is to it.’”

The narrator has the opposite reaction. Her fascination with Lypynskyi, who almost lost his mind, falling into infirmity under the weight of defending the idea of a Ukrainian nation, comes partly from identifying with him. For the narrator, her inability to shrug leads to an existential crisis. She becomes terrified of the outside world. For months, she stops going outside. She begins to mop her floor relentlessly. She stands on her head to see things from a different perspective. She obsessively reads old newspapers in search of references to Lypynskyi. She is desperate to understand history. In a recurring image of the novel, she imagines time as a blue whale eating plankton by the millions. There is no mystery as to whom the plankton represent.

The historical parts of Forgottenness can be challenging, both to follow and to witness, for the simple reason that Ukrainian history is challenging. Lypynskyi lived through the early 20th century, a time when hope for a Ukrainian nation flickered before being brutally smothered.

As the narrator puts it, in the three years after the Russian Revolution, “Kyiv, like a loose woman, changed hands over ten times … and each new seizure ended in bloody purges.” Borders change, names change, empires come, empires go, and everyone dies. One reason that Maljartschuk’s is the first Ukrainian-language novel to break into U.S. commercial publishing is that so many Ukrainian writers from the 20th century were permanently silenced.

As Ukrainian writer Anastasia Levkova recently wrote, under Stalin, 500 of the foremost Ukrainian writers were executed. But she is quick to point out that Stalin was not solely responsible for silencing Ukrainian literature: For example, Vasyl Stus, one of the most famous Ukrainian poets of the 20th century, died in a Soviet forced labor camp decades after Stalin’s death. It is not just Stalin, nor is it just current Russian President Vladimir Putin—it is the Russian Empire that denies Ukrainian history, Ukrainian language, and Ukrainian existence.

Ukraine, one character in Forgottenness laments, “has so many million bodies but so few actual people.” The Russian Empire won’t even allow remembrance of the bodies. When the narrator goes to visit Lypynskyi’s grave, she cannot find it, because the cemetery’s headstones were bulldozed and used to line the floors of pigsties during collectivization. How is she to come to terms with her past when the empire has erased it?

As she’s fighting panic attacks, the narrator watches pigeons across the street building nests and laying eggs on neglected balconies. “Once in a while, the building’s owners would toss the eggs off the balconies onto the asphalt below. The pigeons would then sit on the roof and dispassionately observe the destruction of their offspring.” The pigeons shrug not because they don’t care, but because—what choice do they have?

The narrator’s inability to be like the pigeons almost kills her. But she can still think, write, and face her crisis head-on. In what might seem like an anti-climax, but is actually a triumph, she seeks out a therapist. As she puts it, in her part of the world, “the human head has one purpose—to eat.” Her mother condemns her for being a drama queen. But the narrator finds another woman, a professional, who listens and who cares. She begins to trust her. She starts talking her way out. Through language and solidarity with a fellow Ukrainian, she finds her way back to the world.

Maljartschuk, a Vienna-based Ukrainian novelist, wrote Forgottenness between the Maidan Revolution in 2014 and the full-scale Russian invasion of 2022, a period when Ukrainian art, newly liberated from colonial shackles, was blossoming. Its Ukrainian title, Zabuttya, means both “forgetfulness” and “oblivion,” and although this is not a novel about the war, no event has brought the threat of oblivion into more urgent focus than Russia’s invasion.

According to Forgottenness’ promotional materials, Norton’s inspiration for publishing the book was a March 2022 article in the New York Times about the urgency of bringing Ukrainian literature to the West after Russia’s invasion. Because of the sudden prominence of Ukraine in the American consciousness, there is the temptation for Americans to read Ukrainian literature today anthropologically, approaching it as a window into the country instead of an imaginary story about Ukrainian characters.

To be clear, this is not a criticism of the publisher: I am very grateful that Norton published Forgottenness, and I hope that more U.S. publishers will follow its lead. But how does it affect the reader’s experience to approach the book with images of rubble in mind? How does an American reader get around the trap of reading Ukrainian fiction like it’s nonfiction—of reading it for information rather than emotion—when current events are the reason for its translation into English? The narrator’s panic attacks are brought on not by missiles but by the chaos in her mind and the fear in her genes. Is it not disrespectful to read the book as a guide to understanding Ukraine in 2024?

Fortunately, Forgottenness shares a way to read itself and also to read Ukraine’s latest fight for survival. Maljartschuk personifies the statewide struggle against oblivion in the individual struggle to accept the things you can’t change while refusing to accept the things you can. The struggle, I believe, applies to both the narrator and Ukraine, past and present. The story speaks to what came immediately before the book was published: the Maidan Revolution, in which Ukrainians from every class and background risked their lives to drive out the pro-Russian puppet government, holding Independence Square in Kyiv for three months in the face of a harsh winter, police snipers, government-hired thugs, kidnappings, and torture. But Forgottenness can also speak to what will come after.

The narrator says of her grandfather feigning madness to get out of fighting: “Between a slavish existence and a heroic death, he chose the former, and only thanks to this choice did I become possible.” In her words, she is “the offspring of meekness in the face of power and fear in the face of death.”

But there is no trace of meekness in today’s Ukraine. A generation of Ukrainian writers and artists are now on the front lines of battle or in the rear guard, tirelessly fundraising for equipment for soldiers.

“Everything I’ve done in my life has only come to be by overcoming great fear,” Maljartschuk said in an interview following the 2022 invasion. Fear, as Zabuzhko wrote, lives in the genes. But fear need not paralyze. “Ukrainians are no longer victims,” Maljartschuk added, “but fighters.”

[loveemagicpeace]

🫧Machine Gun Kelly 🎨💘

🎨Sun & mercury in 12th house

💘Sun in 12th house makes a person seem like they don't have their own personality or like they don't have talents. People don't see your true personality and many times they attribute a different personality than it really is. He also said "It just was like, you won’t hear me, I can’t make you see me”-12th house people don’t see you. He is actually a very kind and compassionate person. He has a lot of talents and his personality is also different than people think it is. In the movie taurus, you can see how he described his subconscious and the sadness he feels inside. How misunderstood he feels. He also talked about an imaginary friend / person this is many times present if you have 12th house or a lot of pisces.With Mercury here, can be seen that he wants to say something, but people don't hear him, they don't understand what he wants to say. It feels like they don't speak the same language. People always misinterpret him. Music is everything to him. You can see that he has a kind of obsession with it. And speaking of obsessions, his addiction to drugs also shows up here. 12th / Neptune rules drugs, alcohol, addiction, your world, escape. And he generally feels a lot of other people's energy and escapes reality by taking drugs. Pisces like to be in an illusion. Drugs also represent an escape from his wounds and childhood.

🍹Gemini rising- his abilities and himself are shown. People see him as someone who does several things at the same time and also means that you are talented in many things. That's why he's so good at music and has multiple talents, he's creative and his mind is also very creative and dreamy. This makes him more open and a person who speaks his mind. At the same time, he can be crazy and do crazy things that he remembers at the last moment. The rising sign also indicates that he can have two personalities. He can feel like a person who has two lives, especially since it is his chart ruler in 12th house. Sometimes you don't know what is reality and what isn't.

✨Sun sextile Jupiter- this aspect brings him fame and visibility also good luck & many opportunities. Because these are the two planets that represent visibility and luck. This aspect gives him a reason to deal with challenges more easily.

💎Mercury Trine Neptune- can be seen that he has an imagination mind. His expression is deep and dreamy. This aspect also illustrates that he has many talents. This aspect give poetry, art, dance or acting skills. And this also means that he has strong intuition.

🪐Sun square Saturn- represents tests and challenges that have to be overcome to get ahead in life. This aspect may cause difficulties early in life with self-esteem due to criticism from people, especially authority figures like his father. He may be too hard on himself. He may be overly self-critical and suffer from poor self-esteem because of that.

🧚🏼‍♀️Pisces moon, venus, mars-he has a lot of compassion and feels the energy of others all the time. You sacrifice a lot for others. You feel like a part of you is missing because you keep giving it to others. And here you can also see that he prefers to be in his own world rather than dealing with reality. Pisces can quickly fall into depression , that's why his mood is always changing. And at the same time, the energy of other people can quickly tire him. When you look at him, you can see that he is sad from the inside. The emotions of pisces can usually be seen from the outside. And also according to his style (pisces often have messy style). They stand out with their style, which is also often dreamy. This placements makes him good at acting. He can quickly immerse himself in any role. And the fact that he started to believe in astrology and talk about it is because he has so many pisces energy (Pisces is meant to find astrology).

☁️Moon in 11th house-moon represents emotions, where do you feel safe, where you feel fulfilled. He feels good with friends and can make very emotional contacts with them. People on social media can see him as an emotional person. He can share a lot with the audience (on social networks) about how he feels and his emotions. But he can also have a very emotional view of social media and people, which means that he is quickly affected by hateful comments. He can take a lot to heart. But since he has a pisces here, he can also feel cramped among the crowd.

🔑Pluto in 6th house- you are obsessed with getting things done. You work as long as your work is perfect and as you imagined it to be. He is very persistent and very analytical about the things he does and goes deep into them. He wants people to feel the passion and depth in the music he makes. Libra in 6th house- means that you still want to create a fair atmosphere at work and be fair. You want to have a good relationship with employees. Music accompanies him at every step. His every day is music. Music means a lot to him and he showed it in his film. You can see that everything he does has meaning and that he wants everything he does to be realistic but at the same time beautiful. Pluto wants things to be as they are, not to change them even if they turn out "ugly" because you want to show that part of the depth.

🎡Venus trine Pluto- he feels things deeply and has a really intense love. He strongly feels the people and things around him and wants true and deep love. It also suggests that he has a strong personality and when he loves someone he will really love them, his love is eternal. You want a real connection with someone and someone who will feel you as strongly as you feel them.

🦋Venus sextile Neptune-makes him romantic, creative, gentle, passionate and sensual person. He can also idealize love and the person he is with. He wants to see things through rose-colored glasses. And also very self-sacrificing in love. This also gives him artistic and other creative talents. This aspect also rules over tattoos. That's why he has so many tattoos and also more such fanciful, cartoon characters. This makes him a very unselfish person by nature.

🫧Uranus & Neptune in 8th house- Neptune could mean that he fantasizes a lot about sex or things like that. This also indicates that he can have many mystical relationships and attracts many people who have hidden qualities. It can also be someone with whom you connect spiritually. it gives him a lot of imagination and also his view of the dark side can be more beautiful (he can idealize it). That's why he himself is so spiritual and believes in astrology. He always has a crystal with him just as it was shown in his movie. As a taurus, it can be seen that he has an emotional attachment to things that are his. Neptune many times creates spiritual connections between people. Uranus gives a different view of the relationship. With a person, you do more things with that person that are unusual and people may see your relationship as weird. In fact, it is difficult for others to understand the relationship he has because it is presented in such a way that it can be more difficult to understand. Here you can see his attitude in the relationship, that it is more outstanding, different and strange (people do not understand the attitude he has in the relationship). With uranus he can be exposed to things that are often unexpected or he himself does something that is unexpected.

🥥Saturn & NN in 9th house -Saturn is a planet that tests you and gives you lessons in life from which you then learn something. Saturn here can give him a critical attitude towards life and the world in which he lives. Maybe he feels that he is never really seen or that people never give him as much as he deserves. He may feel that the world is not fair to him. He never gets enough credit for what he does. This can take away the light in his life, he can feel that life is always difficult and full of challenges. He finds it difficult to find his inspiration or feels that it is always taken away from him. He can quickly lose hope or see something too realistically. Here comes the focus on your growth and what you want to leave the world. With saturn here he wants people to take him seriously and respect him. North node- he goes through the challenges of how to find the meaning of life. He have to find his faith in something he believes in deeply. Because he can quickly become depressed if his life don’t have a meaing. This is the house of Sagittarius and Sagittarius always want to find the meaning of life and something that drives them forward, that makes them alive.

🍓Venus in the 10th house represents him as a loving person, a person who wants to be fair and have a good relationship with the public. He shows a lot of gratitude to the people who support him and loves to serve people. This is also good for his career because with this he is also noticed and can have a large circle of friends / people. Many people think that he wants to be something more or they can see him as someone who is too materialistic. But that's not who he really is. Mars here you can see that he has no problem showing his reactions or anger in public. He easily says what he thinks back. He will not walk away from an argument but will face it head on. His energy can be seen in the audience. That is why he is often very brave and doesn't care what others think. Mars in this house makes you a brave person even if you are not.

🫐Pluto square MC- He may also feel that he has no power over the audience. He wants to help others see their strength, which he did not have. This also shows how intense a relationship he had with his parents. As a child he suffered from many things, he did not have enough strength and even when he said that he had many times problems with trust.

🥦Mercury square MC -This may also indicate that he moved around a lot growing up. He is trying to understand the mysteries of life. He may be very nostalgic and yearn for his old self, feeling sad about the passage of time. This can lead to regrets and bouts of depression. Anxiety, OCD, and panic attacks. But at the same time he is optimistic about the future. Many times he can have problems with authority and rules. He doesn't like to do things according to rules or follow a system. This also shows because he has an Aquarius MC.

🪄Chrion in 2nd house- This shows his childhood wounds, which are related to his self-esteem, self-worth. Maybe he felt that no one saw his worth, but only what he had. Therefore, he tends to want to show what he knows and what he has in order to show his worth. He may have trouble seeing the worth in his own being without having something to offer. He thinks that it is the material values ​​that represent him. He is not his possessions. He have to learn that his worth is not what he have to physically offer. But he is so much more than that. This placement shows a need for finding things of value inside yourself rather than outside yourself.

His venus trine Chiron- this gives him unique style & view of beauty, value & love. He can help others with their wounds (that's why many people feel their pain through his music). It gives them the feeling that someone understands them.

Pluto Trine Chiron-he can easily convey power and authority even when he don't feel powerful because of his past wounds and traumas.

Jupiter Conjunction Chiron-his optimism and faith can be also hurt with this aspect. There was a traumatic event that took his faith in life away. He can feel that life has no meaning and that the universe doesn’t care about him.

Mercury Sextile Chiron- He is very open about his wounds and likes to share them with others in the music he creates. He expresses his pain through music.

-Rebekah🥥🪄🧚🏼‍♀️

[faretheeoscar]

Imperfectly, perfect Christmas

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x gn! reader

--Warnings: non, just pure fluff-

A/N: English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there’s any mistakes.

Proofread by my girls: @mandodinstuff & @lauraispunk

Word count: 700ish~

Happy Holidays! 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

Amidst the twinkling lights of your early celebration of Christmas you and Santiago have planned before you went home to your family to celebrate the holidays, Santiago, besides prepping his house and decorated it all over, he wanted another way to express his love for you, so he embarked on a heartfelt mission: to bake a batch of cookies for his beloved, intending to surprise you trying to make this day more memorable, you've always teased him about his cooking skills, but he wanted to try to do something extra for you, since you were always so attentive towards him and filled his life with love.With a cherished family recipe in hand and a mix of ingredients settled down on the kitchen counter Santiago armed himself with an apron and a whisk and ventured into the world of baking something he has never tried before, but if he succeeded in it, it'll make the perfect Christmas present for you.

Engrossed in the art of mixing flour, sugar, and spices, trying to follow every step on his Abuela's perfectly handwritten recipe as precise as he could ,Santiago was immersed in a vision of your delighted expression upon tasting his homemade treats and also getting lost in the nostalgia of the sweet scent that the mixing of the ingredients brought to him immediately sending his brain towards his childhood memories.However, amidst the holiday tunes he put up on the speakers and all the kitchen bustle, Santiago's attention faltered momentarily. The sudden beep of the oven timer broke his concentration, and he hurriedly checked on the cookies, only to find them slightly more golden (to not say completely burn) than anticipated.

With a sigh, Santiago realized his grand baking plan had failed tremendously. Determined not to disappoint you, and with his goal in mind to still surprise and make the evening somehow different for the both of you when you came home, he dashed to the nearest store, only to get there and found all racks empty and the only thing available for him on seeking solace were the pre-made cookie houses on display.

Racing back home, Santiago carefully arranged the store-bought cookie house on a platter, adorning it with twinkling lights and festive decorations, hoping it would make up for his baking misadventure.

The doorbell chimed, signaling your arrival, he opened the door and your nostrils were immediately filled with the characteristic smell of gingerbread cookies, the house was fully decorated with lights in a romantic setting.

"Santiago, what's all this?" You chuckled as you took of your coat and saw all the decorations and all the effort he made for your early Christmas celebration, although your attention quickly went to the beautiful cookie house.” Amor, this is absolutely stunning! Did you make all of this?"

Santiago scratched the back of his head and immediately blushed when you asked him what he most dreaded knowing you would tease him about it "Well, I tried. But, uh, not exactly…"

"Not exactly? What happened, Chef Santiago? Did the cookies rebel against your culinary skills?" You teased him while hugging him by the waist earning a playful roll of eyes from him

"It was a slight… mishap in the kitchen. They got a bit too crispy." Santiago said sheepishly as he caressed your cheek softly.

"So, you're telling me this marvelous creation is the result of an 'oopsie' in the oven?"

Santiago chuckled at your words and shrugged a little "I might have underestimated the timer a tad."

“It’s okay, honey, thanks for the effort anyways and thanks to “Mr Wilton ready to build” for saving the day” you laughed softly taking a look once again at the pre built gingerbread house kit at the table

“Merry Christmas Santi”

"Sort of Merry Christmas, corazón" he chuckled and gave you a chaste kiss on your lips.

As the evening unfolded, giggles and warmth filled the room as you and Santiago enjoyed the store-bought cookie house, relishing the imperfectly perfect moment and the thoughtful gesture that embodied Santiago's love for you.

Fic Masterlist

General Masterlist

[lunechante]

I used to be a bright child. One of those who read a lot, remember everything, think and connect things rapidly, do math as a hobby and need to be intellectually and cognitively challenged all the time. I had a large vocabulary, and although I tended to take things literally, I would always choose the best word to convey exactly what I meant. 

As soon as secondary school began, so did bullying due to my inclination for anything intellectual - from the last years of primary school would be more accurate, but it was still punctuated with great friendships. In order to try and fit - which unfortunately, looking backwards almost twenty years later, did not prove efficient - I depleted my vocabulary to fit society’s “standards”. The ones of my class, that’s to say. Not those that enhance brightness and supposedly allow you to reach for the top. It was like learning a new language, one I was immersed in all the time.

However, slowly, I forgot my “native” kind of French. The language I’d learnt with books through my childhood. Going back to a more formal language register now seems to be an impossible task. Not only is it not instinctive to me anymore, I also have lost the cognitive ability to provide the kind of intellectual labour needed to get it back due to more than a decade of burn out. Nowadays, even navigating between French and English seems hard.

Actually, I lose my words all the time, whatever the language. In the middle of a conversation, I won’t find the word for the most trivial thing. So I often find myself using my foreign language learning skills, discreetly finding circumlocutions to express the idea. Sometimes using the wrong words, or a foreign language or when I’m with someone I trust, showing the thing and admitting I don’t remember how to name it. Most of the time I do manage to keep the conversation going without my interlocutor noticing I could not find my words. But that doesn’t stop the frustration, shame and fear from striking hard. My grandmother had primary progressive aphasia. That’s how it starts. It got noticeable in her early 70s. I try to convince myself that I’m only in my early 30s, that for me, it’s only a matter of burn out, that it will get better when I am not tired anymore - whatever that means. But in spite of rest, it’s happening more and more. But I see that I am not able to get some of my abilities back. Look at my language register. Or my arithmetic. After decades of not practicing, the skills need to be learnt again. Maybe they just need to be refreshed, but even that seems like climbing Mount Everest.

Growing up, puberty hit me young (pathologically) and hard, making me ugly. By the age of 12, I’d been told more than enough to have internalised my ugliness. Still haven’t gotten over it. Having huge problems understanding humour, my only asset was my intelligence. I built myself on that. Even though my peers rejected me for it - or that’s what I understood -, knowledge has always been the most important thing for me. It’s hard to put these feelings into words. The fear, both of change and of losing the only thing valuable about yourself. The frustration from the inability to do anything about it. That shame of what/who you’re becoming, and the self-confidence that just disappears a bit more every day. Not knowing who you are anymore, because that person is far from who you used to be becoming.

In French

[glorianahq]

{abigail cowen, 26, she, she/her} we are so glad to see you safe, PRINCESS AMALIA HATZFELD of GERMANY! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are INTUITIVE and POISED enough to handle it. just don’t let your QUIXOTIC bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU OCCASIONALLY ADOPT A SECRET IDENTITY TO MOVE AMONG THE COMMON PEOPLE {elisa, 27, est, she/her}

Full Name: Amalia Hatzfeld

Title: Princess of Germany

Age: 26

Gender: CisFemale

Pronouns: She/Her

Step outside Time to step outside Early Life

Princess Amalia Hatzfeld was born into the illustrious Hatzfeld family as the youngest of four children. From the moment she entered the world, the expectations placed upon her were immense. Her early childhood was steeped in the grandeur and tradition of the German royal court, with every aspect of her life meticulously planned and executed.

Amalia's education began at an early age, and it was both comprehensive and demanding. Tutors were selected from among the finest scholars in the kingdom, and they provided her with a rigorous academic foundation. She studied languages, mathematics, history, and the arts, alongside the more specialized subjects of royal protocol and governance. Amalia demonstrated an early aptitude for learning, absorbing knowledge with a keen intellect and a genuine curiosity.

Despite the demands of her formal education, Amalia was always drawn to the world of literature. She found solace in the pages of books, which offered her a glimpse into worlds beyond the palace walls.

Dark as night Let the lightning guide you Family Dynamics:

TBA

House on fire Leave it all behind you A Spirit of Adventure

Even in her early years, Amalia's quixotic nature was evident. She was a dreamer, often lost in thoughts of how she could make a difference in the world. Her idealism sometimes led her into trouble, as she struggled to reconcile her lofty aspirations with the realities of her privileged existence. Yet, it was this very idealism that fueled her desire to understand and connect with the people of her kingdom.

Amalia's adventurous spirit often clashed with the confines of palace life. She yearned for freedom and exploration, chafing against the restrictions imposed upon her. It was this yearning that eventually led her to adopt a secret identity, allowing her to venture beyond the palace walls and experience the world as an ordinary citizen.

Living life, feeding appetites Stayed through every hard stop, every go

One of the most formative experiences of Amalia's childhood was her clandestine visits to the nearby towns and villages. Disguised in simple clothing and adopting a false name, she would explore the bustling markets, listen to the stories of the common folk, and immerse herself in their daily lives. These excursions were fraught with risk, but they were also profoundly enlightening. They provided her with a firsthand understanding of the challenges and joys of her subjects, deepening her empathy and informing her perspective as a future leader.

Step outside, time to step outside Time to step out Aspirations and Challenges:

Princess Amalia aspires to be a modern woman who forges her own path, makes her own way, and travels the world without feeling tied down. She longs to break free from the traditional confines of royalty, embracing independence and having a voice in her destiny. Amalia dreams of pursuing her passions, whether in the arts, academia, or humanitarian efforts, and wishes to be recognized for her own merits rather than her title. Her deep-seated desire to explore the world drives her to experience different cultures, learn new languages, and understand diverse perspectives beyond her kingdom's borders.

However, Amalia faces significant challenges. The expectations of her family and the royal court are immense, demanding adherence to tradition and the fulfillment of her duties. Balancing these expectations with her modern aspirations requires diplomacy, resilience, and sometimes compromise. Her clandestine excursions among the common people carry the risk of exposure, which could lead to scandal and jeopardize her reputation and safety. As the youngest Hatzfeld child, she feels pressure to live up to her families' accomplishments while asserting her own identity.

[learningdino]

Enhancing Early Learning with Montessori-Inspired Flashcards by Learning Dino

In the dynamic realm of early childhood education, fostering learning through interactive and engaging tools is paramount. One such innovative tool that has gained significant traction is the Montessori-inspired Early Learning Flashcards by Learning Dino. These flashcards, designed with a focus on real-life images and comprehensive coverage of various categories, serve as a valuable resource for parents and educators alike. In this blog, we delve into the multifaceted benefits of these flashcards and how they contribute to early learning and development.

Enhancing Learning Through Real-Life Images:

The essence of early learning lies in the connection between the child’s experiences and the educational materials provided. Learning Dino’s flashcards excel in this aspect by featuring real-life images of fruits, vegetables, colors, vehicles, animals, and household items. By incorporating images that children encounter in their daily lives, these flashcards facilitate a seamless transition from abstract concepts to tangible understanding. For instance, associating the image of an apple with its real-life counterpart helps children grasp the concept of fruits more effectively.

Comprehensive Coverage Across Various Categories:

Diversity in learning materials is key to catering to the holistic development of young learners. Learning Dino’s flashcards offer a comprehensive coverage of six essential categories: fruits, vegetables, colors, vehicles, animals, and household items. This breadth ensures that children are exposed to a wide array of vocabulary and concepts, laying a strong foundation for language acquisition and cognitive development. Moreover, the structured organization of these categories allows for systematic learning progression, enabling children to build upon their knowledge incrementally.

Promoting Multisensory Learning:

An integral aspect of Montessori education is the emphasis on multisensory learning experiences. Learning Dino’s flashcards embrace this principle by providing tactile engagement through their A6 size and rounded edges. The non-tearable and water-resistant properties enhance durability, making them suitable for both indoor and outdoor learning environments. Additionally, the incorporation of real-life images appeals to the visual senses, while parents and educators can supplement learning by incorporating auditory cues during flashcard sessions. This multisensory approach enriches the learning experience, making it more immersive and impactful for young learners.

Encouraging Active Parental Involvement:

Effective early learning extends beyond formal educational settings and relies heavily on active parental involvement. Learning Dino’s flashcards serve as a bridge between classroom learning and home environments, empowering parents to actively engage in their child’s educational journey. Through interactive flashcard sessions, parents can reinforce concepts introduced in school, facilitate language development, and nurture curiosity and exploration. Furthermore, the versatility of these flashcards allows for spontaneous learning opportunities during daily routines, such as identifying vegetables during grocery shopping or naming colors during playtime.

Facilitating Language Development and Conceptual Understanding:

Language acquisition is a fundamental aspect of early childhood development, and exposure to rich vocabulary plays a pivotal role in language proficiency. Learning Dino’s flashcards offer a plethora of words across various categories, enabling children to expand their vocabulary in a structured manner. Moreover, the contextual relevance of the images aids in conceptual understanding, as children learn to associate words with their corresponding objects or concepts. This contextual learning approach fosters deeper comprehension and retention, laying the groundwork for literacy skills development.

In the realm of early childhood education, fostering a love for learning and exploration is paramount. Learning Dino’s Montessori-inspired Early Learning Flashcards encapsulate this ethos by providing a versatile and engaging tool for young learners. Through real-life images, comprehensive coverage of categories, and a multisensory approach, these flashcards empower children to embark on a journey of discovery and knowledge acquisition. By incorporating these flashcards into early learning routines, parents and educators can nurture curiosity, promote language development, and lay a strong foundation for lifelong learning.

[sonetcs]

is that MACARENA ACHAGA ? oh, no, that’s MARISA IRIGARAY, a TWENTY-NINE year old SALES ASSOCIATE AT INHERITED ESCAPES AND ASPIRING POET who uses SHE/HER pronouns. they currently live in CASABLANCA, and the character they identify with most is PENNY LANE FROM ALMOST FAMOUS. hopefully they find their own little paradise here in el país de los poetas! 

//::  T H E   B A S I C S

name: maria isabel irigaray lombardi

nickname(s): marisa

age: twenty-nine

gender: cis woman

place of birth: colonia, uruguay

birthday: march 14th, 1994

zodiac : pisces sun, capricorn moon and leo rising

height: 5′7″

occupation: sales associate at inherited escapes and aspiring poet

//::  T H E B I O G R A P H Y

tw: abandonment

maria isabel "marisa" irigaray was born in colonia, uruguay, and spent the initial five years of her life there before her family relocated to montevideo. born into a family with a banker father and a receptionist mother, marisa's upbringing was shaped by her parents sacrificing their dream careers for a more secure livelihood. while her father came to terms with the curtailment of his musical aspirations, her mother, an aspiring painter, struggled to move past the relinquishment of her artistic dreams. over time, her mother harbored resentment towards her husband and children for the role they played in truncating her ambitions.

despite her mother's usual cold and distant demeanor, there were instances when, under the influence of alcohol, she would engage in lengthy conversations with marisa about the profound significance of art. ironically, these intoxicated moments with her mother ignited a curiosity for art within marisa. she experimented with various forms, including painting, singing, and sculpting, but ultimately discovered her true calling in the realm of words.

at the age of eight, marisa's mother reached a breaking point and chose to abandon the family. devastated by this abandonment, marisa's father, though successful in providing a comfortable life financially, became immersed in work and frequently neglected his two children emotionally.

at 18, she attended university, majoring in literature. it was in her junior year that she seized the opportunity to spend a semester as an exchange student in valparaiso. it was during this time that marisa developed a deep affection for the city and vowed to return someday.

after completing her studies back in uruguay, she graduated and worked as a teacher for a few years. simultaneously, she dedicated her free time to crafting poems and actively sought a publishing house for her work.

one year ago, she made the bold decision to relocate to valparaiso. opting for a less demanding job than teaching, she sought a position at a bookstore, allowing her more time for writing. embracing a modest lifestyle, she now resides in the city.

//::  H E A D C A N O N S

marisa holds a special affinity for mario benedetti's "la tregua," making it her favorite book. additionally, she admires the works of horacio quiroga and jorge luis borges. among her preferred poets are gabriela mistral, rosario castellanos, sylvia plath, and pablo neruda.

influenced by her father's musical tastes, marisa grew up immersed in spanish rock, with a particular fondness for bands like soda stereo, héroes del silencio, and caifanes.

her upbringing also instilled in her a love for cooking, a skill passed down by her mother from their italian immigrant roots. marisa takes pride in her ability to prepare homemade pasta, with cannelloni being her signature dish.

her early education included attending an italian school, but her proficiency in the language has diminished over time since her mother's abandonment. despite being a bit rusty, she still retains some knowledge of italian.

while marisa often mentions "before sunrise" as one of her top 5 favorite movies, her true favorite is "mamma mia!"

unbeknownst to many, she harbors a fear of water due to a childhood accident at the age of five, which prevented her from learning how to swim. she keeps this detail private, sharing it with only a few people.

[natequarter]

16, 17, 18 for both Humphrey and Sophie - both as actual children then as newlyweds should you wish! - thelastplantagenet

16: A childhood headcanon?

sophie liked to stargaze with her brother. humphrey would get distracted during lessons (particularly the french ones, whoops) and doodle things everywhere

17: What do you think their first word was?

ooh this is a fun question! i mean the boring answer is probably something like mama or dada, because those really simple repeated sounds are easy for babies, although apparently one of the most common first words in australia is jam, which is cracking me up. tbh i don't have a good answer here because it was very probably something boring and short like those, or maybe something like bébé

18: How do you think they were as kids? (Were they shy, noisy, wild, etc...)

in my mind humphrey was a pretty average kid - not particularly loud or particularly quiet, a bit rambunctious (i love that word), and easily bored, as kids tend to be. also, he would daydream constantly (about a different life and also to escape french lessons). both had a mischievous streak (pranks!), but upon moving to england sophie became a lot more subdued and, frankly, scared - and who could blame her? honestly, i imagine she started learning english very early on, on the grounds that a) not being able to understand what people are saying is a really isolating experience and b) immersion in a foreign language is generally the best way to get fluent in it

(link)

[williamkimdesign]

Post 1: My Motivation for Pursuing Design

Saturday, September 9, 2023

For me, pursuing a profession in design is reclaiming lost opportunity, and an integral part in my journey of self-discovery and self-identity.

One of my fondest early childhood memories is my brother and I spread out across the floor, connecting pieces of scrap printing paper and drawing bird’s-eye-view fortresses to later battle each other. I was mostly self-taught, but also a small sprinkle of talent helped. I was known in all my classes as that art guy and classmates often asked me to draw them things. But once I entered high school my drawings came to a stop.

You see, my parents were what is referred to as ‘tiger parents’, something common in Asian immigrant families. They pushed me heavily towards S.T.E.M (Science, Technology, Engineering, Math) courses as jobs in those subjects typically make more money and holds more prestige. I wouldn’t say I gravitated to these subjects, nor would I say I was amazing at them either. Nonetheless, I followed the wishes of my parents and enrolled in all S.T.E.M courses throughout high school.

It wasn’t until after the university application process in senior year that my parents did a complete flip and told me that I shouldn’t go into S.T.E.M programs if I didn’t want to. Feeling lost and like my whole high school experience was in vain, I suggested that I do grade 13 to figure out what I really wanted to do. However, this proposal was fiercely shut down and I was forced to attend university—from their perspective it was a waste of time as I already received acceptance letters from several schools. But by this point there was only one school that I applied for that wasn’t S.T.E.M and that was Queen’s University. I ended up majoring in linguistics as I also enjoyed learning languages.

During my time at Queen’s I felt like I needed another creative outlet—after four years of forgoing any kind of art—and this came in the form of street dance. In fact, I ended up investing more into dance than into school. Still, I managed to graduate in 2017 with a B.A and moved to Japan for a teaching job. I never thought that I would become a teacher, nor did I find myself gravitating towards it. But Japan has an enormous street dance scene, and teaching was going to get me into Japan.

In Japan I would teach full-time then dance on my off hours. At first it was great, but after a few years I began to think more seriously about what I really wanted to do, I wanted to find a life-long career. Despite investing considerable energy into dance, I never saw it as a career path, especially not as a street dancer. At the same time, although teaching was undoubtably a rewarding experience, I grew tired of it. Fortunately, I never quite gave up on art. While dancing I did small projects like making posters for events, or designing T-shirts for communities; and it was from doing this I came to the realization of what I really wanted to do, what I should have been doing. So after four years of teaching, I decided quit and to return to Canada to become a graphic designer.

Design also helps me reconnect to my culture and develops my understanding of who I am. Having immigrated to Canada at the age of 10, I grew up disconnected from my home country of Korea and subsequently its culture. At the same time, I felt estranged in the majority white-culture in the city I grew up in. Eventually I realized that I, and millions of others like me who is living the story of immigration, have our own third cultural experience—the fusion culture. Therefore, my design takes conscientious inspirations from Korean (and Japanese, as I’ve immersed myself there) culture(s) and adapt it through the western perspective and approach.

To summarize, my motivations to pursue a profession in design comes from my desire to do what I have always loved, being creative. It comes from the fact that I’m reclaiming the purpose of my life. Through design I am also able to reconnect with my culture and use it as inspiration to create my own identity, not just for me but for others living in the third-culture.

[gayahithwen]

Oh yeah, if we're going down the FULL list of languages I've studied to some degree, my list also gets long, because I'm also a conlanging linguist nerd (high five @guardevoir) (I got at least two conlangs to the point of translating the Tower of Babel into them, which is, as I'm sure you know, A Thing in conlanging circles).

Swedish (native language, acquired in childhood and studied through school as a primary language. And did creative writing courses in it, etc.)

English (technically my second language, but bordering on being a primary language because of how immersed I was from a young age. And, these days I live in the US and use it way more than Swedish, so...)

Spanish (only one offered at my school at the time, studied for four years, have tried to duolingo it a few times, still really really bad at it.)

French (studied for two years in high-school, have tried to duolingo it since, I'm NOT GOOD at it. But apparently my accent when I try to read it is "not the worst" some French speakers have heard, so... bam.)

German (studied for two years in high-school, even worse than my French.)

Latin (two years! in high school! I really wanted to be good at it, but the way it was taught did not work well with my ADHD)

Classical Greek (one year, in high school. I... remember the alphabet, mostly? and I know Caesar's last words were more likely "kai su, teknon" than "Et tu, Brute", soooo.... yeah, I'm not good.)

Danish, Norwegian (not really studied much, mostly just passively able to understand because they're closely related to Swedish. But we did have some instruction in Swedish class on how to read Danish and Norwegian, so I'm counting that as having had some formal instruction.)

Finnish (I begged my middle school Swedish teacher, who was from Finland, to teach me some Finnish. And she did! We had like ten, twelve private sessions, covering numbers and colors and a little grammar, but besides being fairly confident I can count to ten and say "hi" and "thanks", I really don't retain much of that at all.)

Japanese (two or three years of night courses, during my late teens/early 20s, right when that got popular enough to draw an audience in Sweden, so... once again, not much retained, though more than my Finnish or Classical Greek, for sure. The things I know how to say in Japanese are a random assortment of anime song lyrics, bad pickup lines (thanks, Miroku, I'll never forget "watashi no ko o unde kudasai"), and random politeness stuff.)

Russian (dropped out of that uni course after half a semester, so lol. nope.)

Also tried at various points to teach myself Icelandic, Dutch, Klingon, Quenya, and/or Sindarin. Sorted in rough order of how able I am to communicate with speakers of said languages (hæ, hoi, nuqneH, elen síla lúmenn omentielvo - the only phrase I actually know in Quenya. At least in Klingon, I can also say Qapla'! Though then again, with that level of fluency, we might as well also count Goa'uld, because I can also say "Jaffa, kree!"...)

Mostly, what I do retain from the languages I've studied is a) the ability to correctly identify the language, b) general understanding of the grammatical constructs, c) the ability to make an educated guess about what's being discussed, especially in text (unless it's Japanese, in which case I have higher listening fluency).

Entirely superfluous additional information on my language acquisition road:

English: So, for starters, only if the expected audience includes children who are too young to read subtitles do movies/shows get dubbed into Swedish. So from the moment you're old enough to read, you're hearing English and reading Swedish at the same time. And some movies I just watched in English way before that, usually with a parent by my side reading the subtitles for me. Hence how I was a huge fan of both Sound of Music and Mary Poppins before I was old enough to follow the dialogue (because I loved the music and the visuals, and knew the story well enough because my Mom had read me those same subtitles dozens of times).

We threw around a lot of English phrases, because it was cool. For example, we use the word "cool". Also "wow" and "okej", and more recently, "åsum" (awesome).

Whether the spelling gets Swedeified or not can be a bit of a crapshoot. This is the same language that spells the French "adieu" as "adjö" and "bureau" as "byrå", but also spells "boulevard" and "rouge" in French, so... Swedish is the loanword slut of the Nordic languages, though we still look like complete prudes when compared to how English gobbles down any tangentially useful word it comes across. (Which is not to slut-shame the English language. Imperialism-shaming, sure. But not the willingness to incorporate foreign words into the dictionary).

Anyway, I'm right on the cusp on whether I can be considered an Internet native or not, but whether or not you count someone who first visited the world wide web around age... 8? 9? as a native, by my teenage years, I fell deep into fandom. Which primarily happened in English, and was full of hyper-lexical language nerds. Aat least the LotR fandom and Star Trek fandoms were... Harry Potter a bit less so, that was more cross-discipline amalgamation nerdery (languages because everyone has a Signficant Name, and because of the Latinate bs, history because did you know Nicholas Flamel was a real dude? mythology because it's significant that Hagrid got Fluffy from (paraphrasing because I no longer give a shit about JKR) a "greek fellow down at the pub", etc etc).

Anyway, point being, I earned most of my English skills through direct acquisition, rather than through Swedish, so even though I did study it as a foreign language, it's basically my 1.5st language.

Spanish: My mom spoke fluent Spanish, because she spent time as a missionary in Peru (at least she also provided healthcare resources and helped a pregnant teenager escape the teacher who got her pregnant, so...) I have complex feelings about the religious colonialism my mother participated in. She was also the original Spanish teacher at my school, but the year I started learning Spanish was also the year my mom stopped teaching. And also the year she started trying to kill herself. So. Bit of a mental block on that one, for various reasons.

Danish and Norwegian: There was at least one Pan-Nordic (well, not including Iceland) edutainment show on TV when I was a kid. Very focused on people speaking slowly and encouraging kids to see the similarities. I was the kind of kid who ate that shit up. Here's a link to an episode where the narrator is Norwegian. And below, a brief clip from youtube showing part of an episode with a Swedish narrator;

[theacademyofearlylearning]

Early language development is a fundamental aspect of a child’s overall growth, and early childhood education in Slidell, Louisiana, plays a pivotal role in nurturing these skills. From the moment children enter preschool, they are immersed in an environment rich in language, filled with conversations, stories, songs, and activities that stimulate verbal and cognitive abilities. During these formative years, children begin to absorb and understand language at a rapid pace, which is essential not only for communication but also for laying the foundation for reading and academic success later in life.

[earlystepsbilingual]

Bilingual education in Virginia offers a wealth of advantages for early childhood development, enriching young minds from a young age. By immersing children in two languages, they gain early exposure to diverse linguistic structures and cultural perspectives. This not only enhances their communication skills but also fosters greater cognitive flexibility.