#I hate everyone who taught a class and told us america was a fair country I hate everyone

[caterpillarinacave]

How could we fucking do this how can anybody fucking do this what is wrong with this fucking country

[2013venjix]

I know the American story.  Again and again, I’ve seen the contest between competing forces in the battle for the soul of our nation, between those who want to pull America back to the past and those who want to move America into the future. 

My lifetime has taught me to embrace freedom and democracy, a future based on core values that have defined America — honesty, decency, dignity, and equality; to respect everyone; to give everyone a fair shot; to give hate no safe harbor. 

Now, other people my age see it differently. The American story of resentment, revenge, and retribution.

That’s not me.  I was born amid World War Two, when America stood for the freedom of the world.  I grew up in Scranton, Pennsylvania, and Claymont, Delaware, among working-class people who built this country.  

I watched in horror as two of my heroes — like many of you did — Dr. King and Bobby Kennedy, were assassinated.  And their legacies inspired me to pursue a career in service. 

I left a law firm and became a public defender because my city of Wilmington was the only city in America occupied by the National Guard after Dr. King was assassinated because of the riots.  And I became a county councilman almost by accident.

I got elected to the United States Senate when I had no intention of running, at age 29. 

Then vice president to our first Black president.  Now a president to the first woman vice president. 

In my career, I’ve been told I was too young. By the way, they didn’t let me on the Senate elevators for votes sometimes. 

And I’ve been told I am too old. 

Whether young or old, I’ve always been known — I’ve always known what endures.  I’ve known our North Star.  The very idea of America is that we’re all created equal, deserves to be treated equally throughout our lives. 

We’ve never fully lived up to that idea, but we’ve never walked away from it either.  And I won’t walk away from it now. 

My fellow Americans, the issue facing our nation isn’t how old we are; it’s how old are our ideas. 

Hate, anger, revenge, retribution are the oldest of ideas.  But you can’t lead America with ancient ideas that only take us back.  To lead America, the land of possibilities, you need a vision for the future and what can and should be done. 

Tonight, you’ve heard mine. 

I see a future where [we’re] defending democracy, you don’t diminish it.

I see a future where we restore the right to choose and protect our freedoms, not take them away. 

I see a future where the middle class has — finally has a fair shot and the wealthy have to pay their fair share in taxes. 

I see a future where we save the planet from the climate crisis and our country from gun violence. 

Above all, I see a future for all Americans.  I see a country for all Americans.  And I will always be President for all Americans because I believe in America.  I believe in you, the American people. You’re the reason we’ve never been more optimistic about our future than I am now. 

So, let’s build the future together.  Let’s remember who we are. 

We are the United States of America.  And there is nothing — nothing beyond our capacity when we act together. 

-President Joseph R. Biden Jr.

[iwillhaveamoonbase]

Replay ch. 3

Chapter is rated M

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Rayla got up at seven, eyes heavy from the lack of sleep last night.  “Noooo.  UGH.” She turned to angrily glare at her alarm that had interrupted her rain noises.  Aberdeen wasn’t the rainiest place in the world, but the sound of a rain storm always helped put her to sleep.  Her mum and da always joked she was named ‘Rayla’ because she was born right when the moon shone through a stormy night.  

Rayla went through her emails quickly, making a note in her phone to call both sets of her parents this weekend.  She missed the days in Scotland when Runaan would speak French with her and talk cheese or helping Ethari in his jewelry business.  Runaan ran the books while Ethari ran the artistic side, his work with metal and jewel placement both tasteful and modern while taking classic elements from Celtic art.  

Her parents had yet to retire from being bodyguards, but they regaled her with stories of Africa and Asia and Australia, how kind people were, the different foods and cultures. Sometimes, she wished she could have grown up going with them.  Other times, she knew they had made the right choice leaving her with Runaan and Ethari. They wouldn’t have had much time for her anyways.

Sighing, she rolled out of bed.  She had a breakfast date with Corvus before she had to be at the office.  God.  She hated those pricks sometimes; a lot of old money lived in that office.  She had thought she was leaving classism behind when she did her study abroad in the States for her law degree.  Apparently, America just hid their classism really well instead of openly displaying it like they did back in the UK.  

She lived well, was paid well, did better than anyone had expected her to do, probably.  She had been more focused on athletics as a kid, leading Runaan to force her into ballet (‘you already know some French. It’s perfect!’), Ethari insisting on Irish step dance (‘Lain’s mother was Irish.  It’s a world wide sensation, Rayla!’), and her own parents signing her up for kickboxing when she was in high school during their vacation from work. Her teachers had been frustrated that she was smart but didn’t ‘apply herself’ whatever that meant.  She got good grades, did better in college, got into law school in another country, and passed the bar.  She could apply herself just fine.  She just liked to be active.

Rayla sighed as she stepped into the hot water of her shower.  She had made a good choice buying this shower head.  Slowly, she felt the burn that had started last night begin to build back up again.  Green eyes entered her mind again, as well as a voice that she would love to hear calling her name out while she rode him.  ‘Calm down, Rayla.’  She couldn’t meet Corvus horny.  Rayla sighed, putting her forehead against the shower wall before starting to massage her breast.  She tried to imagine it was Callum’s hand stroking her, dipping down to touch between her thighs where she ached.

Would his hands be soft or rough?  There hadn’t been any obvious calluses when she had shaken his hand at the cheese shop. She moaned, dipping her fingers into her wet heat.  Her thighs rubbed together as she tried to chase that elusive release.  She didn’t have time for this.  The more she tried to speed up, the more it just wasn’t happening. Growling in frustration, she tried to play with her clit, breathing deeply as she finally found a rhythm that was working.  Rayla bit her bottom lip and sighed as she came, inwardly crowing with satisfaction. There was no worse start to a day than being unable to cum after a wet dream or being too horny to function.  

She washed and dried off, stretching her muscles before dressing.  The green pantsuit and black top showed off her toned figure without drawing too much attention to any one place.  Her heels made her even taller and, hopefully, a little intimidating to jerky clients or coworkers.  She grabbed her purse and went out the door.  When she finally made it to her car, she leaned her head on the steering wheel. Had she really started her day off by masturbating to a guy she met YESERDAY?  

She shook her head, driving off until she made it to the little café she and Corvus frequented. Corvus also worked in the same building, but for a different law office, specifically divorce.  Rayla had no idea how he did it, but someone had to.  She saw Corvus at their usual table, smiling at something on his phone.  “Your boyfriend sent you a naughty text?”

Corvus smirked back up at her.  “Nope. Just something about one of my latest clients.  Well, their soon-to-be-ex.”

“Good news or bad news?”

“Well, considering it’s a custody case, it’s good for my client.”

“Abuse?” Rayla frowned.

“I would not be smirking if that was the case.  No.  Apparently, the ex has been mismanaging the children’s money.  Lying about putting it in a back account for them and spending it on gambling debts.”

“You don’t call that abuse?” Rayla smiled up at the waiter who came over, ordering an earl grey, a coffee to go, and an omelet.

“Thank you,” Corvus nodded to the waiter.  “I do, personally, but everyone views that differently.  The children were never struck, no record of emotional, mental, or oral abuse.  It seemed like it was going to go 50-50 custody, which tends to be the ideal situation, but my client was concerned about the gambling problem.”

“So best case scenario, gambler’s anonymous and supervised visits eventually leading to 50-50 custody?”

“Best case scenario. Probably won’t happen, but we can all hope.”

Rayla shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it.  I didn’t do criminal law or divorce law because I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing evidence of child abuse all day.”

“It’s a lot.  We try to spread those cases around as much as we can, because it gets to be too much when it’s all you see.  When police reports come into play, it’s even worse.” Rayla nodded.  “While you work for old money.  Tell me, how’s Kasef doing?”

“Hitting on me, again. Got upset when I told him off for glaring at a guy in a cheese shop for asking me a question.”

“He comes down to our office on his breaks and hits on half the women there.”

“Believe me, I know.  His father gets really upset about it.”

“How is Mr. Ahling?”

“Still insisting we call him ‘Mr. Ahling’ and not the proper ‘Mr. Patel.’  His health is starting to go downhill, so we’re hoping his daughter graduates soon and can start to learn how to take over the office.”

Corvus shook his head, smiling at the waiter with her when they brought their food.  “Thank you.  I’m telling you, join our office.  You could be really good at gathering information.”

“Thank you, but, no thanks. I grew up believing in true love with both sets of my parents.  I’d like to continue believing in it.”

“You still believe in love. I love my boyfriend so much we’re moving in together.”

“Well, congratulations to you both.  You moving in to his apartment or is he moving into your’s?”

“Mine’s bigger and closer to both our jobs.”

They talked work for a few more minutes, keeping an eye on the time.  Rayla sighed as she looked at Corvus.  “I’ve got a favor to ask.”

“My hairdresser would love to do your hair.  Those layers are cute, but maybe you need a new look.”

“Ha ha.  My hair’s fine, thanks.  You remember me mentioning a guy in the cheese shop?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, he asked to draw me. He said it’s cool that I brought a friend and I would like to bring you.  I don’t really have any other friends in the city.”  She finished her tea, opening the lid of her coffee to put some cream in.

“He seem legit?”

“I saw his art.  He also runs a YouTube channel with his friends and little brother?”

“What’s his name?”

“Callum Evans.”

“Katolis Squad!”  Corvus smiled, clapping his hands together.

“You know them?”

“Of course.  They do a lot of food stuff.  I found this café because of one of their videos.  Also, my boyfriend’s a baker, remember?  Ezran and Claudia do a series on baking and sweets and he likes to watch them.  Callum Evans is also kind of known in the art scene in town and I’ve met his aunt a few times.  Lovely lady, so’s her wife.”

“Huh.  Apparently, I’m out of it.”

“You just arrived in Katolis last year.  I grew up here.  You remember my boyfriend’s beignets you liked so much?”

“Those were delicious.”

“Ezran’s recipe.  His grandmother’s friend was from Louisiana and she taught him how to make them like it’s done in the French-Quarter.”

“Huh.  So, you’ll come with me?”

“Sure.  Callum Evans seems harmless, but since he already approved it, might as well take advantage.”

“Agreed.  I can take care of myself, but, you never know.”

“Where’s it going to be?”

“At his house.  He said he has an art studio there.  At least, that’s what he implied.  I’m waiting for a text from him to iron out the details.”

“Maybe he’ll ask to draw you nude?”  Rayla flushed red at that, looking down at her almost finished breakfast.  “Oh?  Something you want to share with the class?  A reason you were distracted during kickboxing last night, perhaps?”

Rayla glared up at him, taking a few harsh bites of her omelet.  She swallowed, keeping eye contact with him.  “He’s cute, I’m single, that’s it.”

“He’s single.”  Rayla paused.  “He broke-up with his last girlfriend months ago.  She made a big Instagram post about it, saying they wanted to focus on their careers.  Which was weird because no one even knew they were in a relationship.”

“So, he’s probably used to people trying to use him for fame.”

“Most likely.  He keeps to himself.”

“I saw that when I went digging online.  His step-father’s the governor and his mother was in the military for a few years, rising through the ranks very quickly.”

“Yeah.  They try to keep their channel separate from all that, though.  People are always asking them questions about it and they’ll either ignore it or say they aren’t a mouthpiece for Harrow Williams.”

“Fair.  I’ll text you the details.  I’ve got my coffee, gotta go.”  Rayla put a $20 on the table and waved good-bye to Corvus, leaving to head to the office.  Well, this just got even more interesting, didn’t it?

---------------------------------------------

Callum rubbed his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling.  All night, he had dreamed of Rayla.  Her white hair down and around bare shoulders, purple eyes starting deep into his. ‘Come on, Callum.  Make me feel good.’  He tossed and turned in his bed, suddenly thankful for the fact he lived alone.  His cock was at attention and it was not going to be going down any time soon.  Rolling out of bed, he took his sleep clothes off as he made his was to his shower.  He winced at the cold water, but sighing in relief as his erection went down. He had no time to rub one out.  He was already running late for his meeting with Ezran, Soren, and Claudia.  They had to go over whether or not to actually hire a crew now that their channel had six million subscribers.  

It would be a smart move. Claudia’s home-made beauty series was getting a lot of attention, as were her and Ez’s baking series.  Soren and Ezran’s sub channel and Twitch channel was getting a lot of attention in the video game community for their let’s plays and commentary.  Even Callum’s art sub channel was getting more and more attention.  He was just worried about going bigger because, if they did, what if drama followed?  It had been a PR nightmare when his ex-girlfriend had posted on Instagram about going their separate ways for their careers.  Callum had asked her to keep it between them because he wanted to keep his personal life and his YouTube life separate.  She had apparently felt that, after they broke-up, what he wanted didn’t matter.

As he quickly ate breakfast, he couldn’t get the idea of Rayla from his dreams or of her in a forest out of his head.  Those eyes haunted his every though.  ‘She’s a freaking fae.  That must be it.’  Callum rubbed his eyes again, sighing.  He sent a quick text to Rayla asking if she would be alright with her modeling for him in the woods outside of town.  She would probably say ‘no’, but Callum needed to get this image out of his head and out of his system.  He had just met her and she was distracting him already.  Still, Callum wasn’t so sure he could ever get someone like her out of his system.  Even if they had sex a week straight, he would probably still crave her.  ‘Stop getting ahead of yourself, Callum.  She’s probably in a relationship, you just want to draw her, and you have other things to focus on right now.’  

All day, as the group discussed the benefits to do YouTube full-time, barring Ezran because he was still in college, a Scottish accent and a pair of soft eyes stayed in the back of his mind.  Beckoning him to find her and take her under a waterfall in the forest.  Would she scratch and like it rough or did she like to go soft and slow, like a wave?  

Ezran snapped his fingers in his face.  “Callum, focus.”

“Right.  So, I think taking a step forward is a good idea….” He didn’t have time to be thinking about faeries in suits from Scotland.  

[hms-chill]

Today’s @rwrb-social-isolation prompt is to talk about something from history we love, so I did a deep, deep dive into a near-utopian colony headed by a man who was, truly, an icon. A Byronic hero two hundred years before Byron himself. It got rambly, but at this point, who’s surprised. Please enjoy.

All us good little American drones know the story of how white people came to America. They settled at Plymouth, and they struggled and struggled for years, but with the help of friendly natives, they finally succeeded and murdered millions with biowarfare and also guns built the great country we live in today.

Were there other, non-Plymouth colonies? Jamestown, of course, the Macho Dream that men who are really into WWII love to talk about. Boring. Let’s talk about a fun colony. 

Let’s talk about Merrymount, a town founded on a distrust of Christian Puritanism, the abolition of slavery, popular revolt, equality with natives, a pagan beliefs. Sound fake? See attached bibliography.

History, huh? Let’s get into it.

To talk about Merrymount, we have to talk about Thomas Morton, the Lord of Misrule. He was born in 1579 in Devon, England, a region despised by the more religious parts of the country for still hanging onto some of England’s traditional pagan practices. It was particularly known for celebrating the land and its guiding principles of neighborliness and quietness (the belief that keeping peace was more important than nearly anything else). We don’t know much about his family, but we’re pretty sure he was the second son to a middle-class family, largely because he went to law school in London (something that wouldn’t have been affordable for lower class folks, but that an older son wouldn’t have had to do under the laws of primogeniture). 

The London Morton arrived in was overcrowded, and bouts of plague were not uncommon. The population was booming, and tensions were rising between the deeply Christian Reform movement and the more Pagan Renaissance. In particular, we saw the rise of Puritanism and Separatism, both of which were extreme versions of Christianity (a la those pilgrims we all cosplayed every Thanksgiving in elementary school), and both of which Morton hated. From what we can tell, he was first an observer, and his coursework would have taught him to question what he was told and to argue his own points and beliefs.

Following his time in school and his general disillusionment with established Christian society, he became a traveling lawyer for a time. In his late 30s, Morton began working for Sir Ferdinando Gorges, a major investor in Plymouth, founder of Maine, and “Father of English Colonization in North America”. He first traveled to America in 1622, and in his book, he declared “The more I looked, the more I liked it. And when I had more seriously considered of the beauty of the place, with all her fair endowments, I did not think that in all the known world it could be paralleled”. However, he was back in England in 1623, complaining of Puritan intolerance. 

Following a dissolved engagement, Morton once again set sail for America in 1624, aboard the ship Unity under command of his friend Captain Richard Wollaston and accompanied by 30 indentured servants. They eventually were given land by and began trading with the Algonquin tribes, who were native to the region and whom Morton found more civilized than the Puritans in Plymouth. They named their town, which is now Quincy, MA, “Mount Wollaston”. 

From Morton’s book, we can see that he got to know native culture relatively well. He attended Algonquin dinners and funerals. He learned at least some of the language, and he celebrated their respect for their elders and general family structure. During this time he also had his first interaction with Plymouth, which went much less well than his interactions with Algonquin tribes. He declared that he “found the Massachusetts Indians more full of humanity than the Christians”, and it is after this meeting that he began to furnish native tribes with powder and shot for their guns, often when English colonists couldn’t get any. Needless to say, he doesn’t come off particularly well in Plymouth’s writing about him.

By 1626, Mount Wollaston was booming. Colonists tired of Plymouth’s harsh rules were flocking to the more liberal town when Morton found out that Wollaston had been selling indentured servants as slaves. Outraged, he encouraged them to rebel, and Wollaston fled, leaving Morton the sole leader (or “host”, the term he prefered) of the newly renamed Merrymount (or “Ma-re Mount, which is a pun on the Latin for “ocean”).

(That’s right, this man got control of a town, declared himself just a host, and then renamed it based on a nerdy pun. an icon.)

Merrymount was, generally, from most sources I can find, a pretty chill place to be. People were declared equal, and there was a pretty high degree of integration with Algonquin tribes. Though Morton did do what he could to encourage the Algonquin peoples to settle into a more English lifestyle, he did so not by force, but by providing them with free salt to use in preserving food, therefore negating the need for a nomadic lifestyle. Which... pressuring people to give up their way of life isn’t great. But doing it this way is a lot better than the way that pretty much every other colonizer was doing it. 

The real pinacle of the integration of English and Algonquin peoples was a May Day Celebration. Pretty much everyone celebrated the start of spring, as it meant that you’d survived the winter and life in general would likely start to improve with the warmer weather. May Day was both a celebration of springtime and a unifying holiday, a time when the different cultures came together and often a time when English men would begin to woo Algonquin women. The Puritans of Plymouth called it Bacchic and evil, so I can only assume it was a generally good time. 

However, by 1628, it was all too much for Plymouth. Morton’s general chill vibe, his trading with natives (and the threat it posed to Plymouth’s monopoly), Merrymount’s integration with Algonquin tribes, and just generally the disregard for Puritan ways all exploded when, in celebration of May Day, Merrymount erected an eighty-foot maypole. 

Now, I know eighty feet is hard to visualize. Especially if you’re from somewhere that uses the metric system. But an average story of a building is about ten feet. So just... think of an eight story building. This thing was MASSIVE. It’s as tall as my freshman year dorm. It was clearly visible from Plymouth, and it was the final straw. Morton was arrested and left to die on a rock that could only generously be called an island.

He was back by fall of 1629, but found Merrymount in ruins and a particularly harsh winter greeted him that year, and he was shipped back to England in 1630, a voyage that almost killed him. 

By 1631, he was back in the game suing the Massachusetts Bay Company, the political and financial backers of the Plymouth Puritans. He won in 1635, cutting off much of Plymouth’s English support and causing many to leave it for settlements in Connecticut. 

His book, New English Canaan published in 1637, launched him into celebrity. In 1643, he tried to return to Massachusetts, but was turned away upon arrival. He was exiled to Maine, where he passed away at the age of 71.

And that’s Thomas Morton! I first heard about his story in A Queer History of the United States by Michael Bronski, but I couldn’t remember enough/didn’t find anything in other sources to establish the queer context for Merrymount other than its rejection of Puritanism. 

Attached bibliography (not formatted correctly, because fuck the MLA and the APA).

General overview of his life

Morton’s book, New English Canaan

Spunky bio largely focused on Merrymount/the maypole

Spunky bio two: Maypole boogaloo

His wikipedia, which is just nice and readable

[kynimdraws]

A little PSA: An explanation of Ovewatch Ana’s “Tal/탈” skin

I am getting tired of people hating on Ana’s Tal skin and while I have expressed my discontent over this unnecessary discourse on twitter I might as well crosspost on tumblr because of non-Koreans trying to spread misinformation about my home country’s culture.

(Ana voice): SHHHHHHHHHHHH calm down kids it’s grandma

Disclaimer: I am Korean. My mother is a Korean teacher who has taught me Korean history/culture. My uncle teaches in a University about Korean history. Chinese cultural appropriation topics will not be mentioned here, because I am not Chinese. Someone with better knowledge about that than make their own posts elsewhere (please).

A quick googling of “tal” or “탈” will give you the following definition (lifted from the all-accessible wikipedia page). I bolded the most relevant parts of this excerpt since I will go into more detail about it in the next paragraphs:

Korean masks have a long tradition with the use in a variety of contexts. Masks are called tal (Hangul: 탈) in Korean, but they are also known by many others names such as gamyeon, gwangdae, chorani, talbak and talbagaji. Korean Mask come with black cloth attached to the sides of the mask designed to cover the back of the head and also to simulate black hair.

They were used in war, on both soldiers and their horses; ceremonially, for burial rites in jade and bronze and for shamanistic ceremonies to drive away evil spirits; to remember the faces of great historical figures in death masks; and in the arts, particularly in ritual dances, courtly, and theatrical plays. The present uses are as miniature masks for tourist souvenirs, or on cell-phones where they hang as good-luck talismans.

The one Ana is specifically wearing is a type of 하회탈 (hahoetal), which describes a type of mask used during theatre (하회별신굿탈놀이) and dance (탈춤) since the 12th century. These performances consist of a cast of character archetypes, which are depicted by the masks. Many of the features in the masks are exaggerated for humorous and dramatic effect. Here are a general list of masks that commonly seen.

Fun fact, Ana’s mask is a hybrid of the Kaksi/각시 and Yangban/양반 mask. And maybe a little bit of the Halmo/할미 depending on the mask design.

These mask plays were performed in villages to ward off evil spirits and to convince the local gods to protect them and bring prosperity. A certain aspect of these performances are also comedic, and a chance for performers to poke fun of the ruling class and taboo subjects like sex. While this is not tied to the Lunar New Year specifically, such performances were done during special occasions like those holidays.

Now you may be asking “this is part of a religious thing! Isn’t that disrespectful??” And trust me, this depiction is FAR from being offensive to most Koreans.

Yes the tal was used for shamanistic rituals, specifically associated with “muism” (무교/신교). However, muism is not a popular Korean religion. While there has a recent uprise in people practicing it/being interested in it, Muism has always faced discrimination in Korean history. Confucianism, Christianity, and even Japanese colonialism has demonized this religion and it was nearly forgotten/eradicated. The most known incident of this is called the misin tapa undong (미신 타파 운동) describes a period from 19th century to the 1980s where various parties (both outside and inside Korea) tried to eradicate muism through various means, including burning down local shrines and villages that were known to practice them. People had to be in hiding so avoid persecution.

Fortunately the Korean government has indirectly protected Muism by making several aspects of their religious traditions as national Korean treasures, including the 탈 among other things. But it is important to note that whole 탈 culture is secularized now. It does not have the religious connotations that it was known for. Hell, the masks are one of the most recognizable features of Korean culture (and seen in many souvenirs). There are places in Korea that preserve this tradition and perform it to the public to spread awareness of its history (the 안동 village every September has an arts festival for all traditional Korean performing arts). FYI, Koreans who appreciate this are not muists themselves, and no one requires you to be one. Lunar New Year is largely a secular holiday, after all.

Now, do you want to see some of the reactions KOREAN FANS had about the Ana skin? Here are few I got off from twitter, with translations from yours truly:

BTW that Ana tal skin is my aesthetic - (x)

That Ana skin is really good ㅇㅁㅇ....tal is really making my heart flutter* - (x)

*간지��뿅 is not a really easy thing to translate since it’s a combo of a sound effect and an emotion??? It’s a positive response either way

Ana skin ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠtal is so good ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ - (x)

OMG Ana’s skin is tal LOL that is exciting - (x)

Many of these really are happy their culture is seen! And it’s not depicted in a mocking manner and the overall design is quite lovely, with Korean-design motifs in her clothes. The few relatively negative tweets about her skin are how the cloth may be too bright/gaudy compared to the mask, which is sort of true. The mask is supposed to be seen clearly to show what character the performer is playing out. But the color scheme really looks like those worn for the Bongsan talchum (봉산탈춤), another variety of tal (they are all within the same province btw). And a lot of Korean traditional color schemes are pretty gaudy too.

Alright, so I have told you all I can about the tal culture. Now the you may be asking the following question, summarized well by this tweet:

I think Ana looks awesome in general but what was the concept behind her new skin ???? She’s Egyptian so why wear a Tal? - (x)

To be fair, I was also fairly surprised by the choice for having Ana have the Korean-style skin before I became super ecstatic to see my culture be represented. I do agree it is odd to see a Muslim/Egyptian/Arabic character (two groups that don’t really celebrate Lunar New Year from what I can gather) to be chosen for a Korean skin, but that matter sort of falls into the “Muslim/Egyptian/Arabic culture is underrepresented in Overwatch and gaming media in general” topic and I am not knowledgeable enough to discuss that in detail. A Muslim Overwatch fan has written about this matter here if you want to check it out.

But back on point, is this skin an example of YELLOW FACE or CULTURAL APPROPRIATION? No! When did being Muslim/Arabic/Egyptian =/= you can’t celebrate/appreciate other cultures and their traditions? Did you only want Koreans to get the skin? I am all for D.Va getting more skins (and MAYBE more KOREAN OVERWATCH HEROES) but why restrict the Korean theme onto just one character? Cultural appropriation is when people INAPPROPRIATELY disrespect a culture by mocking them and disregarding the traditions of said culture. Ana is not doing any of this. Besides, Korean tal culture is not closed off to non-Koreans, and there are Korean cultural socities that are willing to offer classes on this and will even teach you how to do the dance/plays (i.e. Sejong University has a site for it). 

FYI because I am Korean, I cannot say how Egyptian/Muslim/Arab fans feel about Ana wearing Korean attire for Lunar New Year. I have talked to a few Muslim OW fans/friends about this and given their differing opinions on the matter (including the OP of the muslim underrepresentation post I linked earlier), I cannot really make a confident assumption on how these people generally feel about the skin. On Korean fandom’s end though, we love the skin! It’s great Blizzard took the time to research Korean culture and make a skin that isn’t mocking Koreans. And Blizzard does have some ties with Korea itself due to its HUGE gaming culture/fanbase, so it is possible BlizzKorea has gotten input there for this event. Being between two BIG Asian countries (Japan and China), Korea is often left out and this event was a really nice breath of fresh air. We are represented!! We are not some invisible culture between the big two!!!

And if you are not part of this culture, just PLEASE let other people speak out about the matter before getting on your moral high horse to talk about appropriation. 

Now, does that mean the Korean fandom thinks Blizzard is a perfect company? NO! Honestly the entire event is MOSTLY about Chinese culture (with some Korean stuff squeezed in between). Other Asian countries that celebrate Lunar New Year have been ignored (i.e. Southeast Asian cultures and some Indian cultures celebrate Lunar New Year and they are not included despite Symmetra being Indian, etc). These discrepancies are good starting points to discuss underrepresentation in media that Blizzard can learn about and hopefully include in their future updates. From what I can see, the Overwatch developers have been receptive to this feedback so it would be good to have that convo in their official forums too.

FYI, I personally feel like there could have been more Korean stuff for this event period. In America at least, it really sucks that Lunar New Year is ALWAYS called Chinese New Year despite other countries also celebrating it...RIP. But I appreciate that this game has made Korean culture more visible. Here’s hope to more visible Korean stuff in gaming and elsewhere! Where is my “새해 복 많이 받��세요” voice line for D.Va? I demand answers Blizzard!!!

Anyway, hope that has taught you something new, and Happy Lunar New Year to everyone!

[xmarisolx]

MotherJones 

Peter’s Choice 

I asked my student why he voted for Trump. The answer was thoughtful, smart, and terrifying. 

RICK PERLSTEIN JAN/FEB 2017 ISSUE 

Mike McQuade 

This past October, I taught a weeklong seminar on the history of conservatism to honors students from around the state of Oklahoma. In five long days, my nine very engaged students and I got to know each other fairly well. Six were African American women. Then there was a middle-aged white single mother, a white kid who looked like any other corn-fed Oklahoma boy and identified himself as “queer,” and the one straight white male. I’ll call him Peter. 

Peter is 21 and comes from a town of about 3,000 souls. It’s 85 percent white, according to the 2010 census, and 1.2 percent African American—which would make for about 34 black folks. “Most people live around the poverty line,” Peter told the class, and hunting is as much a sport as a way to put food on the table. 

Peter was one of the brightest students in the class, and certainly the sweetest. He liked to wear overalls to school—and on the last day, in a gentle tweak of the instructor, a red “Make America Great Again” baseball cap. A devout evangelical, he’d preferred former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee at the start of the primary season, but was now behind Donald Trump. 

One day the students spent three hours drafting essays about the themes we’d talked about in class. I invited them to continue writing that night so the next morning we could discuss one of their pieces in detail. I picked Peter’s because it was extraordinary. In only eight hours he’d churned out eight pages, eloquent and sharp. 

When I asked him if I could discuss his essay in this article, he replied, “That sounds fine with me. If any of my work can be used to help the country with its political turmoil, I say go for it!” Then he sent me a new version with typos corrected and a postelection postscript: “My wishful hope is that my compatriots will have their tempers settled by Trump’s election, and that maybe both sides can learn from the Obama and Trump administrations in order to understand how both sides feel. Then maybe we can start electing more moderate people, like John Kasich and Jim Webb, who can find reasonable commonality on both sides and make government work.” Did I mention he was sweet? 

When he read the piece aloud in class that afternoon in October, the class was riveted. Several of the black women said it was the first time they’d heard a Trump supporter clearly set forth what he believed and why. (Though, defying stereotypes, one of these women—an aspiring cop—was also planning to vote for Trump.) 

Peter’s essay took off from the main class reading, Corey Robin’s The Reactionary Mind: Conservatism From Edmund Burke to Sarah Palin. Its central argument is that conservative movements across history are united in their devotion to the maintenance of received social hierarchy. Peter, whose essay was titled “Plight of the Redneck,” had a hard time seeing how that applied to the people he knew. “These people are scraping the bottom of the barrel, and they, seemingly, have nothing to benefit from maintaining the system of order that keeps them at the bottom." 

“We all live out in the wilderness, either in the middle of a forest or on a farm,” he wrote. “Some people cannot leave their homes during times of unfortunate weather. Many still dry clothes by hanging them on wires with clothespins outside. These people are nowhere near the top, or even the middle, of any hierarchy. These people are scraping the bottom of the barrel, and they, seemingly, have nothing to benefit from maintaining the system of order that keeps them at the bottom.” His county ended up going about 70 percent for Trump. 

Concerning race, Peter wrote, “In Oklahoma, besides Native Americans, there have traditionally been very few minorities. Few blacks have ever lived near the town that I am from…Even in my generation, despite there being a little more diversity, there was no racism, nor was there a reason for racism to exist.” His town’s 34 or so black people might beg to differ, of course; white people’s blindness to racism in their midst is an American tradition. As one of the African American students in the class—I’ll call her Karen—put it, whites in her town see “racism as nonexistent unless they witness it firsthand. And then it almost has to be over the top—undeniable acts of violence like hate crimes or cross burnings on front lawns—before they would acknowledge it as such.” But it’s relevant to the story I’m telling that I’m certain Peter isn’t individually, deliberately racist, and that Karen agrees. 

Still, Peter’s thinking might help us frame a central debate on the left about what to make of Trump’s victory. Is it, in the main, a recrudescence of bigotry on American soil—a reactionary scream against a nation less white by the year? Or is it more properly understood as an economically grounded response to the privations that neoliberalism has wracked upon the heartland? 

Peter knows where he stands. He remembers multiple factories and small businesses “shutting down or laying off. Next thing you know, half of downtown” in the bigger city eight miles away “became vacant storefronts.” Given that experience, he has concluded, “for those people who have no political voice and come from states that do not matter, the best thing they can do is try to send in a wrecking ball to disrupt the system.” When Peter finished with that last line, there was a slight gasp from someone in the class—then silence, then applause. They felt like they got it. 

I was also riveted by Peter’s account, convinced it might be useful as a counterbalance to glib liberal dismissals of the role of economic decline in building Trumpland. Then I did some research. According to the 2010 census, the median household income in Peter’s county is a little more than $45,000. By comparison, Detroit’s is about $27,000 and Chicago’s (with a higher cost of living) is just under $49,000. The poverty rate is 17.5 percent in the county and 7.6 percent in Peter’s little town, compared with Chicago’s 22.7 percent. The unemployment rate has hovered around 4 percent. 

The town isn’t rich, to be sure. But it’s also not on the “bottom.” Oklahoma on the whole has been rather dynamic economically: Real GDP growth was 2.8 percent in 2014—down from 4.3 percent in 2013, but well above the 2.2 percent nationally. The same was true of other Trump bastions like Texas (5.2 percent growth) and West Virginia (5.1 percent). 

Peter, though, perceives the region’s economic history as a simple tale of desolation and disappointment. “Everyone around was poor, including the churches,” he wrote, “and charities were nowhere near (this wasn’t a city, after all), so more people had to use some sort of government assistance. Taxes went up [as] the help became more widespread." 

He was just calling it like he saw it. But it’s striking how much a bright, inquisitive, public-spirited guy can take for granted that just is not so. Oklahoma’s top marginal income tax rate was cut by a quarter point to 5 percent in 2016, the same year lawmakers hurt the working poor by slashing the earned-income tax credit. On the "tax burden” index used by the website WalletHub, Oklahoma’s is the 45th lowest, with rock-bottom property taxes and a mere 4.5 percent sales tax. (On Election Day, Oklahomans voted down a 1-point sales tax increase meant to raise teacher pay, which is 49th in the nation.). 

As for government assistance, Oklahoma spends less than 10 percent of its welfare budget on cash assistance. The most a single-parent family of three can get is $292 a month—that’s 18 percent of the federal poverty line. Only 2,469 of the more than 370,000 Oklahomans aged 18 to 64 who live in poverty get this aid. And the state’s Medicaid eligibility is one of the stingiest in the nation, covering only adults with dependent children and incomes below 42 percent of the poverty level—around $8,500 for a family of three. 

But while Peter’s analysis is at odds with much of the data, his overall story does fit a national pattern. Trump voters report experiencing greater-than-average levels of economic anxiety, even though they tend have better-than-average incomes. And they are inclined to blame economic instability on the federal government—even, sometimes, when it flows from private corporations. Peter wrote about the sense of salvation his neighbors felt when a Walmart came to town: “Now there were enough jobs, even part-time jobs…But Walmart constantly got attacked by unions nationally and with federal regulations; someone lost their job, or their job became part-time." 

It’s worth noting that if the largest retail corporation in the world has been conspicuously harmed by unions and regulations of late, it doesn’t show in its profits, which were $121 billion in 2016. And of course, Walmart historically has had a far greater role in shuttering small-town Main Streets than in revitalizing them. But Peter’s neighbors see no reason to resent it for that. He writes, "The majority of the people do not blame the company for their loss because they realize that businesses [are about] making money, and that if they had a business of their own, they would do the same thing." 

It’s not fair to beat up on a sweet 21-year-old for getting facts wrong—especially if, as is likely, these were the only facts he was told. Indeed, teaching the class, I was amazed how even the most liberal students took for granted certain dubious narratives in which they (and much of the rest of the country) were marinated all year long, like the notion that Hillary Clinton was extravagantly corrupt. "After continually losing on the economic side,” he wrote, “one of the few things that you can retain is your identity." 

Feelings can’t be fact-checked, and in the end, feelings were what Peter’s eloquent essay came down to­—what it feels like to belong, and what it feels like to be culturally dispossessed. "After continually losing on the economic side,” he wrote, “one of the few things that you can retain is your identity. What it means, to you, to be an American, your somewhat self-sufficient and isolated way of life, and your Christian faith and values. Your identity and heritage is the very last thing you can cling to…Abortion laws and gay marriage are the two most recent upsets. The vast majority of the state of Oklahoma has opposed both of the issues, and social values cannot be forced by the government." 

On these facts he is correct: In a 2015 poll, 68 percent of Oklahomans called themselves "pro-life,” and only 30 percent supported marriage equality. Until 2016 there were only a handful of abortion providers in the entire state, and the first new clinic to open in 40 years guards its entrance with a metal detector. 

Peter thinks he’s not a reactionary. Since that sounds like an insult, I’d like to think so, too. But in writing this piece, I did notice a line in his essay that I had glided over during my first two readings, maybe because I liked him too much to want to be scared by him. “One need only look to the Civil War and the lasting legacies of Reconstruction through to today’s current racism and race issues to see what happens when the federal government forces its morals on dissenting parts of the country.” The last time I read that, I shuddered. So I emailed Peter. “I say the intrusions were worth it to end slavery and turn blacks into full citizens,” I wrote. “A lot of liberals, even those most disposed to having an open mind to understanding the grievances of people like you and yours, will have a hard time with [your words]." 

Peter’s answer was striking. He first objected (politely!) to what he saw as the damning implication behind my observation. Slavery and Reconstruction? "I was using it as an example of government intrusion and how violent and negative the results can be when the government tries to tell people how to think. I take it you saw it in terms of race in politics. The way we look at the same thing shows how big the difference is between our two groups." 

To him, focusing on race was "an attention-grabbing tool that politicians use to their advantage,” one that “really just annoys and angers conservatives more than anything, because it is usually a straw man attack.” He compared it to what “has happened with this election: everyone who votes for Trump must be racist and sexist, and there’s no possible way that anyone could oppose Hillary unless it’s because they’re sexist. Accusing racism or sexism eliminates the possibility of an honest discussion about politics." 

He asked me to imagine "being one of those rednecks under the poverty line, living in a camper trailer on your grandpa’s land, eating about one full meal a day, yet being accused by Black Lives Matter that you are benefiting from white privilege and your life is somehow much better than theirs." 

And that’s when I wanted to meet him halfway: Maybe we could talk about the people in Chicago working for poverty wages and being told by Trump supporters that they were lazy. Or the guy with the tamale cart in front of my grocery store—always in front of my grocery store, morning, noon, and night—who with so much as a traffic violation might find himself among the millions whom Trump intends to immediately deport. 

I wanted to meet him halfway, until he started talking about history. 

"The reason I used the Civil War and Reconstruction is because it isn’t a secret that Reconstruction failed,” Peter wrote. “It failed and left the South in an extreme poverty that it still hasn’t recovered from.” And besides, “slavery was expensive and the Industrial Revolution was about to happen. Maybe if there had been no war, slavery would have faded peacefully." 

As a historian, I found this remarkable, since it was precisely what all American schoolchildren learned about slavery and Reconstruction for much of the 20th century. Or rather, they did until the civil rights era, when serious scholarship dismantled this narrative, piece by piece. But not, apparently, in Peter’s world. "Until urban liberals move to the rural South and live there for probably a decade or more,” he concluded, “there’s no way to fully appreciate the view." 

This was where he left me plumb at a loss. Liberals must listen to and understand Trump supporters. But what you end up understanding from even the sweetest among them still might chill you to the bone. 

Read Peter’s full essay at motherjones.com/oklahoma.

[gibsongirlselections]

So It Turns Out You’re a Racist

Am I a racist? Are you? People tell me I sort of have to be a racist, it’s not really my choice. Today, if you’re old, white, from the Midwest, a bit conservative, then you’re racist. Maybe you don’t say racist things specifically, and maybe you never did anything to disadvantage a black person yourself, but by original sin, you’re part of “systematic racism.“

Now maybe your immigrant parents arrived in the U.S. 75 years after slavery, or you as a white racist have trouble finding a privileged job that pays a living wage. No matter, you’re still privileged thanks to a system going back 400 years whether you like it or not. You can’t change what you are and people hate you for it. That’s the systemic part, defined as “not something that a few people choose to practice. Instead it has been a feature of the social, economic, and political systems in which we all exist.”

I’d like to say that was from the news, but in recent days I heard most of that from a close relative, and the rest from a friend of many years, neither of whom want to interact with me anymore. I’ve been sending one checks since her birthdays were in the single digits. I grew up alongside the other. They have both taken themselves out of my life because the internet told them I am a racist.

Crowd-sourced (what old timers call a mob) leftist fundamentalism has given us a country where everyone can be called a Nazi, er, racist, and dismissed. Once the red line was only actual Nazis. So no “Thank you, Elie Wiesel for that moving account. Now in rebuttal, Hitler’s deputy, Martin Bormann…” You had to be an actual Nazi to hold an opinion outside the boundaries of legitimacy.

Not any more. Racism scholar Ibram Kendi says one is now either racist or anti-racist, that there is no room for such thing as a “non-racist.” The New York Times said white allies should “Text your relatives and loved ones telling them you will not be visiting them or answering phone calls until they take significant action in supporting black lives.” Another article described my own situation, claiming “BLM protesters are breaking up with their racist, Facebook-addled relatives.” A Twitter thread about one such family dissolution had over 800,000 likes. HuffPo ran an article by a biracial woman eviscerating her white mother for being too white.

High school debate clubs used to propose a topic in advance but not assign a “side” until just before the match. The idea was you would vigorously support or attack a position you may not personally agree with. You were supposed to learn something intellectual from all this along with the ability to see things from another point of view. It is a vision of the world a long way from calling someone a witch, er, racist, and dismissing them whole.

We don’t understand debate, or its cousin compromise, anymore. There is no longer any tolerance for others’ views because the current fascism of the left does not see opinions as such; they are not acquired thoughts so much as they are innate to who we are, the inside and the outside fixed by color and class. You can’t change, only apologize, before being ignored at family gatherings, unfriended, and canceled. From the New York Times firing an editor for running an op-ed by a senator, to me wondering about the practicality of defunding the police and losing a friend over it, there is no legitimate other side. So I can’t speak, I can only whitesplain (used to be mansplain). People arbitrate my intent before I open my slack jaw. It’s even a job title—a writer at a black news site calls himself a “wypipologist.”

I am unsure where all these woke white people came from. The world around me, since George Floyd’s death, is flooded with overzealous sympathy, the media a waste can for guilt, and people who had never heard of the idea a week ago pronouncing themselves deeply committed to defunding the police. 

Companies are stumbling over each other like they just found Jesus at an AA meeting to add Black Lives Matter to their websites, just above the ad banners. The Washington Post reports that African Americans have said they’ve been overwhelmed by the number of white friends checking in, with some sending cash because guilt is an expensive hobby. White celebs are swarming to confess their past ignorance on race. In what may be the ultimate expression of shallowness, someone who calls herself an influencer and life coach posted an Instagram guide on “how to check in on your black friends.” Which corner was everyone standing in solidarity on last week?

The Slack for a hospitality company I worked for pre-COVID exploded last week when a benign HR data request went out on #BlackOutTuesday. The almost all-white staff went insane with accusations of racism. Of course, the blindsided (and now racist) HR drone didn’t think about Tuesday being some private racial Ramadan when we all fasted from reality; she doesn’t follow the right people on Twitter. The mob, sounding like they’d drunk a human growth hormone and Adderall smoothie, barked until the company issued a sort-of apology. Then they celebrated as if they’d brought George Floyd back to life.

It shouldn’t have caught HR so off guard. The unemployees live in a world where “journalism is a profession of agitation.” They were taught nothing matters more than starting a sentence with “as a… (woman, harassment survivor, deep sea diver)” because no argument, and certainly no assembled historical fact, could be more important than a single lived experience. They were brought up on TV shows that juxtaposed white and black characters like someone was stringing together magic diversity beads. They made the boss apologize even though nothing was really different except that made-up racial “holidays” are now on the list of things where there is only one allowable opinion. Soon enough we’ll all be asked over the PA to take a knee for the national anthem at sporting events.

The harsh self-righteousness oozed. It sounded very much like people wanted to imagine they were on the cutting edge of a revolution, the long-awaited (well, for four years) Reichstag fire. So what makes this moment into a turning point?

Not much. Less than taking a stand, it feels more like radical chic from people who have been cooped up for months, cut off from bars and the gym. They don’t seem to know we’ve had this week before, after the deaths of Rodney King, Eric Garner, Freddie Gray, and Michael Brown. The protests feel like the last round of BLM, Occupy, Pink Hats, March for Our Lives, even Live Aid in 1986 when Queen sang for everyone’s racist parents to end hunger forever. Remember in 1970 when Leonard Bernstein threw a cocktail party for the Black Panthers Defense Fund and Tom Wolfe wrote about it? That changed everything; I mean, people used to say “Negro” back then. But I’m pretty sure a year from now there will still be funded police departments.

It took some rough nights to work out the rules and root out the looters, but even as the protests have faded, the whole thing has become a set piece: the demonstrators arrive with water bottles and healthy snacks. The route is established with the police a long way from “by any means necessary” boulevard. As long as everyone enjoys their revolutionary cosplay inside the white lines, the cops don’t have to spank anyone with pepper spray. The AP describes the once violent protests outside the White House now as having a “street fair vibe.” See, it got complicated explaining how looting beer from a convenience run by Yemeni refugees was connected to racial justice.

It all reveals itself as hollow because this fight isn’t between racism and anti-racism. It’s Black Rage versus White Guilt. The cops quickly quiet down the former and the media slowly wears out the latter. That means little of the action will have much to do with the real issues but everyone will feel self-righteously better. Until next time.

Along the way, however, the collateral damage of wokeness is producing the totalitarianism it purports to challenge by denying any view that challenges it. Ideas are redefined by one side as the bad -isms of racism, sexism, fascism, and pulled out of the marketplace along with the people who want to talk about them. No invite to the barbecue, no seat at the Thanksgiving table. In a political system built on compromise, I’m not sure how we’re supposed to get things done.

For me, I am not a racist. I’ll get over my problem with lost friends. America, I’m not so sure.

Peter Van Buren, a 24-year State Department veteran, is the author of We Meant Well: How I Helped Lose the Battle for the Hearts and Minds of the Iraqi People,Hooper’s War: A Novel of WWII Japan, and Ghosts of Tom Joad: A Story of the #99 Percent.

The post So It Turns Out You’re a Racist appeared first on The American Conservative.

[teachanarchy]

Shanna Johnson, a middle-school language arts teacher in Grand Rapids, Michigan, had just begun teaching the historical-fiction novel Dragonwingswhen it took on added relevance during the 2016 presidential election.

The book follows a young Chinese boy at the turn of the 20th century as he migrates to the United States to live with his father. The context of the story and its setting in San Francisco is the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882, the first major piece of U.S. legislation that restricted immigration and which, in targeting an ethnic group, set the precedent for subsequent restrictive immigration laws. As Johnson pointed out, the book touches on themes of “racism, discrimination, and the anti-immigration attitude of the nation” that uncannily reflect the hostility and divisiveness of the recent election.

These same historical themes and trends came to the forefront over the course of President Donald Trump’s campaign and transition. His surrogates and supporters referenced Japanese American internment as a viable precedent for a possible Muslim registry. Trump loyalists also cheered on his intention to build a wall along the border with Mexico and to deport millions of undocumented immigrants—the latter of which he justified by invoking President Eisenhower’s controversial deportation program, “Operation Wetback.” In his first week in office, Trump signed a now-blocked executive order that halted the admission of all refugees for 120 days, and stopped entry for nationals from seven predominantly Muslim countries for 90 days. The action, whose stay by a U.S. district judge was upheld earlier this month by the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, was issued on International Holocaust Remembrance Day, drawing parallels to the time  the U.S. turned away Jews fleeing Nazi Germany.

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And just as has happened in past periods of upheaval, the cultural tensions exacerbated by the election have pervaded schools. Immediately following the election, there was an uptick in incidents  of hate crimes and hate speech around the country, and teachers reported an escalation of harassment in schools as well. A survey by the Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC), with responses from over 10,000 educators, found that “eight in 10 report heightened anxiety on the part of marginalized students” and “four in 10 have heard derogatory language directed at students of color, Muslims, immigrants, and people based on gender or sexual orientation.” In marked contrast to the increase in anti-black offenses after President Obama’s 2008 election, as Carly Berwick explained in The Atlantic, now “the hate crimes and bias attacks are being conducted in the name of the president-elect—not against one.”

What is it like for teachers, such as Johnson, and their students to read historical fiction at this discordant time—a political moment that summons the label “unprecedented” at about the same rate as the number of historical analogies stirred up by the Trump election? How are teachers best able to help students make sense of the many historical comparisons and the controversial issues facing the nation?

For elementary- and middle-school students, historical fiction can provide a helpful way into difficult subjects—for example, the Holocaust (Number the Stars), the civil-rights movement (The Watsons Go to Birmingham—1963), or slavery and racism in America’s founding (The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing, Traitor to the Nation). Maureen Costello, the director of the SPLC’s Teaching Tolerance initiative, explained in a phone interview that, for certain topics such as slavery, teachers can employ the genre to “talk about the subject in a child appropriate way.” But beyond providing an introduction to troubling issues, historical fiction can offer the chance, if taught conscientiously, to engage students with multiple perspectives, which are essential to understanding history; to help students comprehend historical patterns and political analogies; and to introduce students to historiography—how history is written and studied.

Successful historical fiction makes past events come alive in a more inviting or personal way than textbooks can. Linda Levstik, a professor in the University of Kentucky’s Department of Curriculum and Instruction, studies how children engage with historical thinking. The combination of a good book and factual story, she said in an interview, can help “embed history in a narrative arc” so that “instead of it being isolated bits of information, it ties together, and the story and the history make a web of meaning for the kids that helps them to remember what they read.” Unfortunately, no comprehensive data exists that measures the use of historical fiction is in schools.

Alice Kunce, who teaches sixth-grade English and seventh- and eighth-grade “exploratory fiction” in Little Rock, Arkansas, uses historical fiction, specifically the book Fire From the Rock, to engage her students with their city’s history of integration. As the class reflects on the various characters’ choices, Kunce asks her students to consider: “How does society influence those decisions? What limitations are put on characters? By themselves? Friends? Family? Society?”  

Humanizing history not only means it’s easier for students to connect the historical dots, research shows that it also encourages empathy. Being told a story via historical fiction helps students identify with the characters’ points of view, and that ability to recognize different outlooks, Levstik explained, is an essential historical skill: “How is it we understand how the world looked to other people? And how do you get kids to care enough to do the work of figuring out somebody’s perspective [back then]?”

In that vein, humanizing history means making it recognizable for all students. Rudine Sims Bishop, professor emerita of education at Ohio State University, wrote a seminal article in 1990 that advocated for increased diversity in children’s literature. Bishop presented a model of literature working as mirrors, which reflect and affirm readers’ experience; windows, which provide insight into other’s experiences; and sliding glass doors, which allow readers the ability to move from their perspective into the experience of another.

Not only do minority students need stories with people who are like them, she argued, a lack of diversity in literature also negatively affects the majority group by reflecting back only what they know. Bishop wrote, “Children from dominant social groups … need books that will help them understand the multicultural nature of the world they live in, and their place as a member of just one group, as well as their connection to all other humans.”

Terrie Epstein, a professor of education at Hunter College, studies the differing frameworks with which students of various races and ethnicities approach the history they’re taught in school. Her research found that minority students tend to have a more skeptical view of textbooks and traditional historical narratives. For any narrative, whether historical or otherwise, Epstein says students who don’t see their stories reflected are usually “less likely to give the source credibility than a source that has their story in it.”

Psychology studies show that children develop a strong sense of fairness at an early age and understand when they are receiving less than others. Kids in some countries, including the U.S., have been shown to have “advantageous-inequity aversion,” meaning that they’re bothered when they receive more than others. As Levstik and her colleague Keith Barton recommend in their book, Teaching History for the Common Good, teachers can build on students’ strong sense of justice to connect discussions of historical events to contemporary civics and issues, guided by the question “what can we do to help the world function better for everyone?”

And while teachers must obviously be wary of making false equivalencies or grand generalizations, understanding history more thoroughly than what’s offered in, for example, a textbook leads students to an educated examination of current events. For example, referring to possible comparisons with the treatment of Japanese Americans during the internment, Levstik explains the need for teachers to ask: “When somebody says they’re going to lock up people on the basis of their religion, their ethnic background, their point of origin, what does that look like in our history?”

Reflecting on the past’s relationship to the present is a priority for some of the instructors I contacted, including Mikko Jokela, a seventh-grade history and language-arts teacher in Berkeley, California, who says he uses historical fiction to engage with multiple perspectives to help his students become better-informed citizens. In his classroom, students focus on analyzing “who we are as a nation and how we came to be who we are” while paying attention to “the reality of each student’s life and the role of the U.S. in the world.” In an email interview, Jokela wrote: “Historical fiction (along with entertaining non-fiction)” is a component of teaching students “to have the ability to discern truth from falsehood, propaganda from fact.”

History is a narrative after all, whether the arguments made are in standardized textbooks or fictionalized accounts.

However, teaching historical fiction has its inherent challenges: Kids, like the rest of us, love a good story. As Levstik explained, they will connect strongly with the perspective they read, and may initially reject alternative points of view. Lesvick says they are also more susceptible to a well-written book with a shaky grasp of history that a poorly written book that contains solid historical research. But their initial, limited reactions can be challenged when instructors introduce critical-thinking skills to history and  expose students to a variety of opinions. Sara Schwebel, a professor at the University of South Carolina and the author of Child-Sized History: Fictions of the Past in U.S. Classrooms, sees historical fiction as an opportunity to introduce historiography, and to counter the often static and monolithic view of the past.

In a telephone interview, Schwebel spelled out the value of an “interdisciplinary approach where students and teachers together engage with the novel as literature, enjoying the story, thinking about the language, thinking about characters but then stepping back from historical fiction as a work of lit and considering the novel in fact as work of history that’s making a historical argument in addition to telling a story.” For young readers, this genre can serve as a starting point from which teachers and students put novels with different accounts and points of view in conversation with each other to create a more comprehensive understanding.

While this multidimensional approach to reading might sound challenging to younger readers, it aligns with the Common Core guidelines, the set of academic standards adopted by most states, which recommend textual complexity. As Schwebel pointed out, fiction is usually more complex than textbooks, and the overlay of historical arguments on works of fiction can offer a deeper and more nuanced perspective for students. In fact, one Common Core literature standard details that middle-school readers should “compare and contrast a fictional portrayal of a time, place, or character and a historical account of the same period as a means of understanding how authors of fiction use or alter history.”

History is a narrative after all, whether the information presented or arguments made are in standardized textbooks or fictionalized accounts. The ability to decipher and interrogate historical assertions—by comparing, contrasting, and fact-checking them—is a vital tool, and one that it’s never too early to start learning.