#I like and respect the ambiguity but also I am shaking the bars of my enclosure wHTA DID THEY MEAN BY THAT

[tempestmothstorm]

On this week’s episode of “Wtf Did They Mean By That” we have wtf did they mean by that

Ok idk if it’s just me but this line feels like it’s meant to address the whole Natsuki home life question but it answers it by just. Not????

Cause like this line could both be interpreted as a confirmation and decomfirmation of physical abuse in the side stories because Natsuki just loves being really vague like that with that last line

Cause the line could mean, “of course they wouldn’t hurt me physically, but I’m scared they might retaliate in some other way” and in like any other context it would be the normal assumption.

But knowing what goes on base game and how oddly specific it is to bring up physical harm in the first place for an otherwise normal situation it could also mean, “of course they wouldn’t hurt me physically, but the treatment from my father has made me subconsciously fear the same abuse from others” and I can’t tell if I’m going insane here like are you ok?????

At least Yuri promises to smite her enemies in the next line. Good for her 👍

[codename-adler]

Dear Tumblr toxicity,

Hi. Adler here. We need to talk.

- TW: mental health issues, depression, bipolar disorder, self-harm, homophobia, transphobia, coming out, xenophobia, islamophobia, racism, implied sexual content, rape, non-con, addictions, abuse, parental negligence, depictions of violence, swearing (please message me kindly if I forget anything)

- What prompted this message: The release of Skam France S7 teaser (emphasis on teaser, will get into that below)

- Where I’m coming from: I will talk from the pov of a white, cis and queer 22-years-old woman (she/her); this is the pov that affects my experiences and the opinions I will share below; but my message comes from a place of deep hurt, and love

- What this is about: My goal is to share a recurring experience that has hurt me in order to spread a message of awareness, maturity, peace and love

- Central content: Skam France, Skam Wtfock, and Skam/remakes in general

From now on I will assume people have enough information for me to talk about the topics without explaining every plotline/character. There are plenty of wiki pages to help you out and I will gladly answer any (respectful) questions asked if a plothole bothers your comprehension of my message. I’m only making these assumptions in order to alleviate the text.

January 9th, 2021.

The francetv slash YouTube channel releases an unexpected teaser video for an equally unexpected seventh season Skam France. The video features Tiffany, a white, cis female teenager, going into labour from denial pregnancy just after winning what appears to be a gymnastics championship. Overall, the video and its release are very dramatic.

The character of Tiffany, also called Tiff, was previously seen on season 6 of Skam France as a bully who persecuted the main character, Lola, both at school and on social media. Outside of this characterization, nothing is known about her. It is majorly accepted that Tiff is not a liked character; she rather poses as one of the antagonists of Lola’s arc.

Now you know the details of what happened, in the most objectively possible way. 

Now I’ll speak for myself.

Before I went digging around for people’s reaction, here is what I initially thought of this video.

1) Shock: I thought Skam France was over, so... Big, big shock.

2) Excitement: I hold this web series very close to my heart. It has gotten me through depressive episodes, anxiety attacks, coming out to my best friend. To see this new development? It couldn’t bring me more joy.

3) Curiosity: I recognized Tiff immediately. I was intrigued as to what would happen to her to set off a new season in true Skam Fr fashion. As soon as she started gripping her stomach, I knew she was pregnant and wasn’t aware of it. Big, big surprise here again.

4) Numbness/Overthinking: As I stared at my screen, motionless, my mind went off. What did it mean? How did she not know? Who is the father? Do we know him? Will the baby survive? Where are the other characters? Will Lamifex be present? What? How? When? Why? Who?

5) Disappointment: No, I did not like Tiff one bit in S6. Yes, I sincerely wished for a season on either Jo (ambiguous and funny teenage girl, cis + white), Sekou (seemingly neurodivergent teenage boy, cis + black), and my favorite, Max (mysterious and grave teenage boy, trans + white) So why Tiff? It felt to me like a missed opportunity, but I did not lose hope.

So, these were the five stages of my emotional process. And then I made the terrible mistake to go look for the fans’ reaction. I didn’t even look at the YT comments, I didn’t go on Instagram, I went directly here on Tumblr. Why? I’m still asking myself that. From S1 to S6 of Skam Fr, I kept my love for the show to myself and only looked at ig and video edits. I tried once, and only once, to look it up on Tumblr, and was greeted by fervent agressivity, disrespect and hate. Why did I ever forget that after watching the S7 teaser? I still don’t know.

The reactions on this platform were wild. People are furious (I get that). People are disappointed (I get that). People are anxious (I get that). People are also verbally agressive, insensitive, hateful, disrespectful and bullies. I don’t get that.

Comments along the lines of “What she gonna do with a fucking baby?”, “Are we gonna watch the baby do nothing all fucking season?”, “Wowwww, teenage pregnancy, so new and relatable!” (note the sarcasm made in the comment here), “Who gives a shit about Tiff?”, etc. 

And then all the mistakes Skam Fr ever made flooded back onto the feed. The wlw misrepresentation, the whitewashing, the overdramatization, the dubious sex scenes between minors, all of it.

Let’s take a break here. Do I condone these mistakes? Nope. Am I a white-bully apologist? Nope. Did I forget every horrible action Tiff has made in the past? Nope. She manipulated a whole school against Lola, she profited from Lola’s mother’s death, she bullied her, harrassed her, pushed her deeper into mental distress. Tiff was a despicable character that I never once liked. The way she was played by the actress made it clear that Tiff was not intended to be a good guy. If I could replace her as the main of S7, I would, in a heartbeat. I’d choose, as I said, Jo, Sekou or Max.

Skam France deeply lacks diversity and made mistakes when attempting to diverse the issues represented. This is not an opinion, it’s a fact. 

Poc representation is very, very low. Only one season has a woc of Islam beliefs as mc (Imane, S4) with poc entourage/family. Only 2 other characters not related to Imane were poc (Sekou and Sarah, S1-S2). These 2 characters were very in the background and served to further the mc’s plotline, they had no real content. (I am not a poc, and so my opinion does not matter here. If you are not poc, your “opinions” don’t matter here, this point is not for you to debate. These are facts.)

While I do not particularly find the wlw representation bad, I do understand how it hurts/bothers other queer women. From my perspective, the bar was very low regarding my expectations of the Lola/Maya pair (none of them died *yay* they had a happy ending *yay* they were not typically overfeminized or overmasculinized *yay* Lola  and Maya were respectful of each other, understood each other, accepted each other with all their flaws and their beauty *yay* I truly believed in their love and it gave me confidence and hope *yay* I ould really go on but this is not my main point so I’ll stop here) Regardless of my opinion on Mayla, I understand that to some queer women, it was bothering/hurtful. (If you are anything other than a woman / wlw, this point is not for you to debate. Keep your “opinions” to yourself, it does not matter here. These are facts.)

Like every remake of the original Skam where the S4 was given to Sana/Imane, the Muslim community was not represented at its best, at its most beautiful and respectfully. The character of Imane, although she is my favorite girl of the series, was not portrayed in a way that respected the majority of the Muslim community. (If you are anything other than Muslim, this point is not for you to debate. Our opinions do not matter here. These are facts.)

And so the same goes for the portrayal of sexual assault and child pronography in S2, of mental illness and homophobia in S3, of disabilities in S5, of addiction, transphobia, self-harm and neurodivergence in S6. Again, if you are not part of these communities, your opinions do not matter on these issues. These are facts that are not up for debate.

In other words, Skam France, as well as the original Skam, Skam Wtfock, Skam España, and probably all the others I haven’t watched in their entirety, are NOT perfect shows. They (maybe) tried their best to portray issues of the younger generations that are ugly, shameful, taboo, hard-to-swallow-pills. Of course they made mistakes. Of course they have to be held accountable. Of course they can and should do better. Of course it must be spoken about.

Here is my problem.

The so-called “fans” shamelessly SHITTING on the WHOLE show because of ONE TEASER TRAILER. (btw, this is where I get angry)

I am not talking about the fans making fun of the show and this season’s premise like “Better MCs than Tiff for S7: a romance between the car that almost hit Lucas S3 and the car that hit Arthur S5, or the school’s nurse, or Imane’s dad, or Elu’s rabbit” (that shit’s funny and I’d watch all of these).Or the joke about Wtfock and Skam Fr shaking hands while signing the same contract to disappoint the fans with white MCs (it’s funny cuz it’s trueeeee).

I am not talking about the fans criticizing the producers’ choice of Tiff as MC. There is a difference between shitting on issues and adressing/discussing them. I WANT to talk about how this season’s issue would have been so much better if a woc, specifically a black woman, had been the MC, because black women and doctors are a whole different level of issue than white women and doctors. Add on top of that an unplanned teenage pregnancy? It would have been IMMACULATE. I WANT to talk which wlw couple was better represented, Mayla or Croana/Crisana, and why is that. I WANT to talk about disabilities in black and poc communities. I WANT to talk about headcanons, AUs, to rectify the missed marks. I WANT to talk about our takes on seasons about Max, Sekou and Jo, instead of Tiff’s.

I DO NOT WANT TO TALK ABOUT YOUR SHITTY, NEGATIVE, UNHELPFUL, HURTFUL COMMENTS.

Just because the protagonist is white, doesn’t give you ANY right to dismiss the issue that is unplanned teenage pregnancy. This is a problem that affects countries WORLDWIDE. Do you know how many deaths are related to minors giving birth? Do you know how many babies die at birth from these pregnancies? Do you have any idea the trauma it puts you through, to go into labor without even knowing you were pregnant in the first place, and then giving birth, and then having to care for a defensless human being? The dilemma of keeping it, or giving it away? The fear that lives in every person able to give birth, that one day they’ll become pregnant, because society turns sych a shameful look to that? No matter your ethnicity, your gender identity, your sexuality, your political stance or whatever shit you bring up to justify your disgraceful and downright degrading comments, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT A MINOR GIVING BIRTH IS NOT AN ISSUE. 

You think the topic has been covered plenty before? Yeah, because shows like “16 and pregnant” and “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant!” are such good examples and show the reality with such an objective point of view! 

Bullshit. Teenage pregnancy is still a taboo, it still kills, and people are still morons about it. 

“Well I guess everybody is secretly pregnant now!” No, Jessica, but you wouldn’t know about it, would you? Because I wouldn’t tell you shit if you were my “friend” and I was going through it. The whole message of all the Skams is not that it presents super relatable issues of teenagers, although it is a big topic of the show. They present some issues that affect the youth in an authentic light, but that’s not it.

Tous les gens que tu rencontres mènent un combat dont tu ignores tout. 

Sois indulgente. Toujours. x x x

//

Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.

Be kind. Always. x x x

THAT’S THE MESSAGE. THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT OF THE SHOW.

And you all missed it.

All of you making dead baby jokes and death threats, degrading people who give birth, shaming teenagers for their pregnancies... Listen to yourselves.

“Well she deserves it, she was such a bitch!” No, Michael, you shit stick. Let’s rewind a bit for you, yeah? It was a GOD DAMN TEASER. We literally know nothing! Nothing at all! Why are y’all getting mad when we saw 3:25 minutes representing a whole ass season! Listen to yourselves. Y’all judge so fast for people pretending to love Skam and its authenticity and its motto.

You say Tiff is irredeemable?

Emma cheated on her boyfriend.

Manon lied and manipulated her friends.

Lucas was homophobic and prejudiced agaisnt mentally ill people.

Imane was homophobic too and went behind her friends’ back to get what she wanted.

Arthur cheated on his girlfriend too.

Lola dragged Elliot down with her in her addiction, lied, was verbally abusive, etc.

ALL THE MAINS ARE PROBLEMATIC.

Any guess why?

BECAUSE THEY ARE TEENAGERS. THEY ARE STILL GROWING AND LEARNING.

Yet we still loved them all. 

So don’t you dare tell me that Tiff deserves this, that her baby deserves to die, that teenage motherhood is irrelevant. Motherhood is not a curse in the first place, nor is it something to wish to inflict upon anyone. Motherhood is different for every single person and nobody except the person living with it can have an opinion on that. We don’t even know if the baby survived, for God’s sake!

There is no excuse for this kind of behavior..

It makes me so angry. Women are discriminated against in a fandom I thought was safe, again and again and again. 

I have to stop here because, well, this is just too much. There is much wrong with Skam (the original AND all the remakes), but there is even more wrong with the fans. I’m done.

You don’t support the show anymore? Fine, then don’t watch it! If I really am wrong, the number of viewers will go down and the show will die, just like you wished. There is no need to be vicious about it. 

I hope y’all are proud of your misogyny. 

Sincerely,

Adler.

[yukahoo]

Jimin’s journey in the Bangtan Universe #10: A redemption and/or salvation arc

#0: Intro #1: The one who laughed the loudest #2: In this place of eternal mayhem the party never stops #3: Youth is not coming back #4: An impression of being stuck #5: “I’m trapped inside myself and I am dead” #6: The forbidden fruit #7: Darkness crept in #8: A deal with the Devil #9: A picture, a painting, rain, fire and tears

As for what is going to happen next, I don’t know. From what I’ve gathered, based on the year-end and awards show performances, interviews, etc. fans are speculating that topics like society, consumerism or mind-control might be some themes to be explored. The overall consensus seems to be that the next chapter is going to be darker, ether in topic, tone or expression.

There’s also the whole symbolism of a doorway, open eyes and “a magical time” as seen in the KBS Song Festival intro VCR. It’s not a huge stretch to connect it back to JM’s Wings era theme of constantly uncovering his eyes.

But it might as well not be linked to that. A blindfold is not the same thing as a mask. However, as mentioned before, the MMA performance certainly very strongly implied that it was JM who was wearing a mask and that it was because of fear.

The doorway is an older BTS symbol. It’s part of the official logo for the group and doorways were already seen in a VCR for their Wings concert tour. The video consists mainly of the members walking and running around a dark room but towards the end there are seven doors that open. All the other members pass through except for Jungkook.

At the final concert stop of the Wings tour, another version of the VCR was revealed. In this version there are no roaming spotlights, instead the lights seem to converge in the middle of the space where JM goes to stand. The other members gather around him and he looks over his shoulder.

His expression when he looks over his shoulder is ambiguous. Due to the dramatic angle of the shot, the lighting as well as the ominous soundtrack, some have considered him a bit villainous here. Based on everything we’ve seen thus far, JM’s journey in the BU up until now, everything that happened in the HLR and his comments in the behind-the-scenes video for it make it certainly a possibility.

The corresponding image is of DNA-era JK, standing in front of a rendering of the Serendipity/DNA wormhole/vortex-thing, looking back over his shoulder as well.

So are we supposed to see JM here as threatening towards JK? He certainly is a dark contrast to JK’s bright pastel-y world. When they look at each other the lights quite literally go out of around JK. 

JK doesn’t seem fazed though. The VCR ends with the doorways but this time he walks through to join the other members.

In the wide shot of all the members having passed through the doorway J-Hope is cut out of the frame entirely. I don’t know if I’ve just seen a faulty copy of the video or if it’s originally supposed to be like that.

The beginning of the new VCR is different from the original as well. We begin with all the seven members wandering around the aforementioned pastel DNA world. JM keeps away from the camera but four members get a closeup with a screen of sorts behind them. Interestingly enough all four are linked to JM either by person or by the object projected on the screen.

There’s J-Hope with his cake and Suga with his lollipop (references to the HLR) who were both paired up with JM in the HYYH/HLR and Wings eras, respectively. The third is RM who is not linked to JM in the narrative but by the image of an umbrella on the screen. As far as I can tell, there are no umbrellas in RM’s HLR storyline. So its inclusion, paired up with RM is unexpected.

The fourth member featured is JK and the object on his screen is flowers. The most obvious connection here is the little bouquet of flowers he was holding towards the end of the HLR. The link to JM comes from the Serendipity MV where we see flowers similar to those in a vase. Curiously enough JK and JM were photographed together in a field of flowers for the HYYH part 1 concept photos.

I’m no botanist but I don’t think the flowers are necessarily the same, however they’re similar enough for it to be noticeable. They’re unassuming wild flowers, something you might find on a field, a forest or at a “Flower Arboretum” perhaps?

The other traffic sign pointing to the the same arboretum at the same distance of 2.1 km was seen in a 2015 concert VCR. In the forefront of the shot J-Hope is eating a chocolate bar which is another reoccurring BU reference.

The flowers in Serendipity could be dismissed as an coincidental production design prop but what makes them noteworthy is that they weren’t even in the room at the beginning of the of the MV. The vase of flowers very deliberately appears there only once the earth quite literally starts shaking under JM’s feet. 

I haven’t talked about Serendipity in these analyses even though it’s a beautiful piece of video art focused solely on JM. Reason is that I don’t see it connecting to or referencing the BU that strongly. In many ways the world of Serendipity and JM in it seem to be the complete opposite of his character as he is in the “real-life”. I can definitely see symbolism introduced here being brought back to the main narrative in the future, especially if JM gets some sort of redemption and/or salvation arc after his “bad guy” phase. But at this stage I can’t know what is going to be significant and what is not, so for the most part I leave it alone.

One thing I will point out however has to do with the aforementioned beginning of the MV when his room is still without the flowers. Something about the colouring in that very first shot in his room, the way the overexaggerated lens flare is making light ripple around the room, the slow sluggish way JM turns his head as well as the boxiness of the sofa he is sitting on makes me think of it as a subtle visual signal to him being back in the tub and under water, or metaphorically, in a bad way mentally.

This reading would certainly make the magical world of Serendipity with its discovery of joy, colour and love a special, bittersweet little respite in his otherwise bleak BU storyline.

As for the context of JK’s bouquet in the HLR: We see him walking the corridors of the hospital, carrying the bouquet, visibly excited. However by the end of his scene he is revealed to be standing dejectedly in an empty hospital room. Obviously whoever he was hoping to give the flowers to has already left.

The common understanding about this scene is that he is bringing the flowers to the girl he met while he was recovering from his accident, as seen earlier in the video. Thing is, nothing in JK’s interaction with the girl actually leads us to believe there is a special connection there. They meet and seem to spend time together but there are no cinematic cues to suggest there being a blossoming young love affair there, no smiles or glances shared. In fact in the one scene where they are shown sitting outside, JK seems to be paying more attention on his music and Yoongi’s lighter than her.

It doesn’t necessarily mean that there won’t be more of their relationship shown develop in the future. But, as it stands I’m more inclined to think we are once again being lead astray on purpose, that things aren’t necessarily as they seem at a first glance. We don’t even know for sure if this scene is taking place before or after his accident.

Nevertheless, I think one reason why I’m seeing a possible connection from him to JM is in the way JK’s storyline at that point is being intercut with JM’s in the climax of the HLR. JM is first seen crying in the bathroom and later out in the rain. All the members’ storylines are coming to a head so edits back and forth all seven are hectic but the cut goes straight from JK to JM twice. In their separate scenes both boys are hoping to see someone or something they in the end don’t, and the disappointment visible on their faces seems to create a parallel between the two.

But all this is just pure speculation on my part. We won’t know until later.

Still, I’m gonna leave it with one more contrast and compare:

This one intrigues me. There are possibilities.

Next up >> #11: Isolation and the slightly unsettling serenity

[philaprint]

9: A Recount of My Family's Displacement

By Karlotta Gonzalez @midwestsangre | Illustration by Maia Magoga @maiamagoga

The closet was dark, and the touch of the cold floor jolted through me as I sat down with the phone in my hand. The dial tone echoed in the half-empty room, and each number felt heavier as I kept pressing. When I heard my mother answer, all the sadness I had pushed deep within me burst out past my heart through my mouth, and I could not longer hide that I was upset and been crying on and off since the night she left. At this point in time, I hadn’t seen my mother in two months for the first time since I was four. But little did I know when I left school that day for Thanksgiving break, I would be reunited with her sooner than I would’ve ever imagined.

My father had taken my brother and I to our local YMCA, where I found myself coping with the absence of my mother by playing racquetball on my own, and swung my arm back with every ounce of pain I had until my father eventually said we had to go home. As he drove into the driveway of the house my parents had bought earlier that summer, we noticed flashing red and blue lights in the rearview mirrors. They would be the last things we saw in Kansas City.

The ambiguity of the flashing lights was broken by the sound of footsteps on the gravel. When the two officers approached each side of the car, they both displayed exactly who they worked for: Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). They asked my father to get out of the car, and to go into their SUV, meanwhile keeping my brother in the passenger seat, and myself in the backseat, waiting. My eyes stared down towards my feet while the speed of my breath started to increase. I started going through a mental image of my room and scrambled to define what mattered most. In a brief side step to what was happening, I reached for my cell phone to let a friend know that I would be unable to make our plans for the next day, but an officer waved his finger back and forth through the window, so I continued to sit, with my seatbelt still intact, waiting. After physically assaulting my father inside one of their vans, ICE immediately handcuffed both him and my brother at their wrists and their ankles and instructed us all to go into our house. They did not handcuff 15-year old me.

We were each assigned an ICE officer, who took us to our respective rooms and informed us that we were allowed to pack one suitcase with whatever belongings could fit. My bed was still unmade from that morning, and I panned around my room before turning to face my closet and started to pack what I had determined to be worth something while I was waiting in the car to bring with me to a country I had not been to since I was four years old.

In the midst of packing and unsuccessfully holding back tears, the ICE officer pointed to the guitar in my room and asked if I knew how to play it. They then asked me what grade I was in. After I answered, they only shook their head, before telling me that we were going to be barred for 10 years and that after that time, I could try to return. It was as if, that guitar caused him to see me as the child that I was, as the child he was personally deporting, as more than a case number.

We were all eventually led downstairs, where the officers informed my father that I was going to be separated from him and my brother, and would be taken to a juvenile detention center in Topeka. I hugged my father and my brother, as they tried their best to reach their arms out with the chains weighing down their wrists, and made my way to our kitchen where my cat had been placed into his traveling case. I was eight years old when I picked him out in a shelter where we had originally gone to find a dog for my brother. He was my best friend, and with the officers telling me it was time for me to leave, I opened the door of his crate, and took his collar off, so that I could hold onto a piece of him. I still have his collar to this day. I told him I was sorry that I could not do anything as I cried, and then I petted his head for the last time. I tried stuttering out the same words to my dog, but at that point, they were completely incoherent.

It was one in the morning at this point, and as I walked outside to the side of our house, I noticed a small crowd had gathered. An audience that had kids I went to school with, just watching. Then I was in the back seat of a car with two ICE officers in the front. I had changed earlier into a gray zip up hoodie from some band that I don’t recall now, jeans, and a pair of checkered vans. It was just past two in the morning when we arrived at the juvenile detention center, where I had to take my vans off before entering, and where I was immediately taken to a private room by a detention officer. Once we were inside, they locked the door behind us and told me to remove all of my clothing so that they could make note of any bruises or cuts I had prior to entering the detention center. They turned around as I unzipped my hoodie, and began lifting my shirt to remove my bra. I let my jeans fall to my feet, along with the rest of my undergarments, and softly said, “Ready” while trying to keep my body from shaking. They had me take a step forward and began circling around me, as I stood naked with my arms stretched out. Once I was cleared, I was given a set of the detention uniform, a blue, stiff jumpsuit and washed but used undergarments, and lead out of the room to a cold metal bench while another officer registered me into their system. It was there where any bit of humanity the ICE officer in my former bedroom had tried to paint my experience with has been brushed away. They took my photo and information before eventually leading me into a private cell on the second floor.  It was around 3 am when they locked the door behind me, and I sat down on the cot before beginning to cry again. My eyes were swollen from the hours spent with the tears flowing out, but I could not make my body stop. I looked around the cell, with its small, rectangle window, and metal toilet and sink. It was in that moment where it began to sink in that everything I had ever known had disappeared in a matter of hours. And it was there the last sense of hope left me, and an emptiness that I would not be able to escape for the next decade would take its place.

Just past 5 am, a voice echoed from the speaker in the cell and told me that I was to be leaving within minutes. I was escorted to the main floor, where I was able to dress in my own clothes again, and then I was led outside to board what looked like a school bus. When I stepped inside, I saw the bus was full, and that my father and brother were on it - behind a fence. Everyone on board was also being deported, and since I was the only child, the officers kept me upfront with them, still without handcuffs. Soon after, the bus started making its way to Omaha, Nebraska, to an ICE airport. My thin grey hoodie was not enough for the weather, as the bus was not insulated, so I shivered through the whole three hour drive as the first snowfall of the season began and I stared out of the window, just as I had stared out of the plane we took to Kansas City when I was four years old, where I saw snow for the first time.

When we boarded the plane, it was already half-way full. Again, being that I was the only child, the officers sat me apart from everyone else, behind their seats. At this point, I had not eaten anything since the afternoon of the day before. Halfway through the flight, one of the officers began asking me questions - how old I was, if I was in school - entertaining themselves during the passing time. The flight was six or so hours long, and as they were taking people off the plane, one officer attempted to separate me from my father and brother, until my father spoke out. They then lead us inside a white passenger van, where for the first time since we pulled into our driveway, we were able to say more than one sentence to each other. We were driven close to the border, and when we got out of the van, we saw all the suitcases laid out on the ground, and were instructed to grab ours and begin walking towards the border and across the bridge - and to never look back.

We stopped halfway through the bridge, once we were officially in Mexico. My father called my mother to let her know. She had left for Mexico two months earlier, and had tried to return through the river but was detained and barred for 5 years, to drop off documents at the American embassy from the first encounter we had had with ICE on March 7th, 2005. I was in 7th grade and was set to go to a local high school that day with my class to go see a play, but instead, I woke up that morning to my parents opening the front door to ICE officers. They questioned us, and eventually handcuffed my father outside, after I heard them say to each other, “Not in front of the kids”. They took my father to the Homeland Security Offices and told my mother that we would be able to go post bail for him in a few hours. When we drove there, we passed the high school where I would have been seeing the play. I even saw some of my classmates getting off of the buses. After waiting over an hour, we were escorted to the part of the building where they were holding my father, and where they took all of our fingerprints and photographs. We then posted bail for my father. Immigration told us that we would have to report to them every month and tell them if we changed addresses. They also said that due to not having criminal records and the length of time we had been in the country, we had a case for residency. But after waiting two years and reporting to ICE every month, we never did get our fair trial. The lawyer my parents hired and paid decided to take advantage of our situation. When our court date was switched, he went without telling us and told the court we would take voluntary departure. He said that we would leave on our own by August 2007, and then called my father to tell him we had to leave and to demand an additional $700 before refusing to appeal the court’s decision.

We finished crossing the bridge and sat in a city park while we waited for my mom to transfer money to us so we could fly into Mexico City. The three of us sat on a bench, with three suitcases, in silence. I don’t know what time it was by the time we got to the airport, but there weren’t any open restaurants, so we had now gone 24 hours without eating.  We arrived in Mexico City just after midnight and boarded a greyhound bus down to Puebla. When I stepped out of the bus, I saw my mother after being separated for two months, and my grandmother, whom I barely remembered, for the first time since I was four. I was silent and still, as I knew I had to maintain my composure because only my mother knew why we had suddenly arrived. It was close to two in the morning when we arrived at my grandmother’s house. In just under 30 hours, everything I knew was gone and I was back in the city I was born in but had not been to since I was four years old.

On November 20th, 2007, my family and I were deported from the United States, and ultimately, barred for the next 10 years.

This anniversary date was supposed to be a sigh of relief. One more year left. Something that for the first six years I never thought I would stay alive to say. That cold November night changed the entire course of my life, and I spent the rest of my teenage years and early 20s with the emptiness, one that to this day has been tamed, but is still relenting. On election night, I had tried to stay distracted but ultimately ended up watching the results come in until 2:30 AM, alone. And just like so many others, I woke up the next day with a numbness I had not experienced since the night we were deported.

I sat through work, staring blankly at a computer screen, as everyone around me followed the motions of their daily routines with ease. That night, I rode my bike home, just as numb as when I woke up, wondering how many more years I would have to wait to be able to see the city I grew up in. Gaining Canadian citizenship (which includes a Canadian passport that does not require a visa to enter the U.S.) has become more difficult every year. Between this, and not knowing what legislation the new U.S. administration will pass, a possibility I now have to think about as I wait out the end of the decade is that I could never be allowed to go back home again, or that I will be kept waiting indefinitely.

This is just one of many stories. There are millions more undocumented people without any current legal protection who don’t know what they will have to face in the next four years. More than 728,000 undocumented youth protected under the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) are waiting to see if the information they provided the government that promised them a path to citizenship will be the same information used to deport them. The people of Mexico, which includes most of my family, have been told they must pay for a wall, or face a number of threats ranging from the halting of money transfers from family members in the U.S., to open warfare.

As for when my story will reach a conclusion, that is as unclear as the decisions that will be made from January 20th and onward. What is clear are the forms of resistance that we can engage in. From physically showing up to donating, here is a list of organizations you can donate to/get involved with.

Border Angels National Immigration Law Center

National Immigration Forum The Young Center for Immigration Children’s Rights

For Canadian Immigration: No One is Illegal

https://www.philadelphiaprintworks.com/blogs/news/9-a-recount-of-my-familys-displacement

[bellereveprincess-blog]

Draft 2

BLANCHE enters a perfectly pristine dining room in perfect Stepford-wife garb. Dressed all in white with a set of pearl earrings and a matching necklace, her hair and make-up are done to the tee, and a small tiara rests on the crown of her head. She carries a beautifully roasted chicken and places it down on an immaculately set dinner table, clearly set for guests. She then goes over to the wet bar and pours two drinks.’

BLANCHE Well there he is, just the gentleman I was looking for! Supper is about ready, have to finish off the biscuits and gravy. Everyone should be arriving shortly. Have a drink with me, baby.

She offers one of the drinks to "ALLAN". Allan declines.

BLANCHE Alright then, more for me. I thought I would dress up for the occasion, how do I look?

Allan doesn’t give her the response she was looking for. She takes a sip from her drink and sets the other down on the bar.

BLANCHE I was fishing for a compliment, Allan, but never mind. Listen darling, before everybody gets here, there’s something very important I want to talk to you about.

She reaches into the side of her dress and pulls out a folded up letter.

BLANCHE I found the letter you left for me on the dresser this morning and, I have to tell you, I think I’ve read the darn thing so many times I have it memorized by now.

She places the letter on the table and fusses with a place setting.

BLANCHE How long have we been together, honey? Since we were, what, sixteen? My God, we were just babies! You remember our first kiss? Daddy never let me out of the house after eight o’clock, but we just had to see each other that night. So you took your daddy’s car and drove to Belle Reve, and you waited for me at the end of the drive. I crawled out my bedroom window onto the roof of the veranda, shimmied down the pillars, and ran like all hell to you. Must of been 500 meters or so down that drive. We pulled out of there like a pair of speed demons, and all I could hear was the wind, and you, with that gentle laugh of yours. We drove all the way to Moon Lake and we sat by the water, holding hands, lit by nothing but the moon... and I just knew "I’m going to have my first kiss tonight. This is where my life is going to begin." You started leaning in, then I started leaning... and then a big ol’ cloud came in, blocked the moon right out and sure enough if we didn’t miss and end up two fools wagging our tongues around in the dark, like a pair of dogs.

This tickles Blanche a lot.

BLANCHE But we found each other. Yes sir, we did. In the dark. Two lonesome stars in the dark universe that found each other. And from that moment on I knew I would never be alone again.

Blanche takes a large swig from her drink.

BLANCHE But we sure have put each other through the paces, haven’t we? We’ve had our up’s and down’s, but after eight years together and five years of marriage, who hasn’t? It’s funny, when you put that ring on my finger, and you asked me to be your wife, you want to know the first thought that came into my head? I thought "I’m finally safe. I have found my safe place." When we first moved away to the city, I can’t lie, I was a bit worried about you making friends. I mean we had each other, of course, but I know a man needs his down time away from his wife. Now, I can make a friend wherever I go! I know how to hold a lively conversation and I certainly leave an impression on people. But you, you’ve always been shy Allan, so gentle and sensitive. So when we met Randall and you two hit it off, I thought "well isn’t that wonderful, Allan’s going to have a friend!" And Randall’s a good friend, such a good friend, such a good friend... one could say I even felt replaced, because you, you are my BEST friend Allan. I’d do anything for you. But you know that. Because you, Allan, are very observant. You see things. Me, however, sometimes I think I can’t even see my own two hands out in front of me. Because I couldn’t see it. Could not see that the other shoe was about to drop.

She picks up the letter and flourishes it.

BLANCHE Sometimes I forget how eloquent you can be, baby. Wait, let me see if I can repeat some of it by heart. "So, in conclusion, I am temperamental, and in coming to terms with who I am, I realize that I am damaging the fabric of who you are, and for that I am deeply apologetic. I respect whatever way you decide to part ways from this union. Please realize that I love you to pieces, just not in that way. Love always, Allan. P.S please keep the ring." Temperamental. Isn’t that a five dollar word for it. I have to say when I read this, it just about knocked the wind out of me, but not for the reason you’re thinking, honey.

Blanche finishes off her drink and starts in on the second.

BLANCHE Like I told you, I’ve never quite seen things clearly, but I feel things deeply. A few years into our marriage, I felt like I was failing you in some way that I couldn’t quite grasp. Then Daddy died, Mama got sick, and we had to move back to Belle Reve. Randall had just lost his home and needed a place to stay and you suggested he stay with us for a bit... now I like Randall and all but, deep in my gut I didn’t want him in my home and I didn’t know why. But I knew it would make you happy, and I was going to do whatever I had to do to keep my Allan happy... And then last summer, I walked past the closed door of a seemingly empty room, which was in fact, not empty. I heard you. You and Randall. I heard sounds that could only emanate from lovers. And I knew. It was then that I saw, very clearly. Oh, you didn’t think I knew?

Blanche bursts out laughing but is shaking at the same time. She finishes the second drink and moves to the bar to pour herself another one.

BLANCHE Yes, one year darling, one whole year. But as you can see I’ve moved past it. You missed the best of the hysterics. So when I read this, this epic poem you wrote for me, I said to myself "Blanche, it’s all out on the table now. You have a big decision to make." And so I have made you this beautiful dinner, and worn this beautiful ensemble to deliver my decision. I’m not leaving you.

There is a long pause. Blanche waits for Allan to respond and he doesn’t. BLANCHE You see, I, I’ve had a lot of time to contemplate this, and I realized that I haven’t made myself available to you in the ways that a wife should. I was so busy with the long parade of death that came through this house and keeping Belle Reve afloat that I forgot my poor Allan. What you’re responding to is no more than brutal desire, which is natural for a man. But that’s over with now, and I’m still here! I see the military men that come by the house eyeing me, age hasn’t touched me at all yet. I still have my looks and my figure...

Blanche playfully walks towards Allan, trying to be sensual.

BLANCHE Voulez-vous couchez avec moi, ce soir?

Allan recoils. This hurts Blanche deeply but she tries to cover it with laughter. She chugs the drink and pours another one.

BLANCHE Well, it was worth a try wasn’t it? Oh my goodness, the biscuits!

Blanche rushes back into the kitchen. She emerges back into the dining room with a burnt pan of biscuits.

BLANCHE Well I guess we won’t be having these, will we?!

She takes the pan back into the kitchen and we hear it crash into the sink, along with the banging of the over door and smash of a glass. She re-emerges with her hair disheveled and make up slightly smudged.

BLANCHE I’m just asking for a bit of kindness. I’m showing kindness to you. A cruel woman would use this to ruin you, take all your money and be off in the wind with another man. But I have a great capacity for devotion. People these days don’t know anything about devotion! I see the boys and girls at the school and-- they think the teachers don’t see these things but we do; the boys don’t want anything they can get too easily, but they also lose interest quickly. And the girls are sat there chasing their tails, trying to be proper and alluring at the same time and... all anybody wants is to be seen, to have their existence, their goodness admitted by someone. But with no devotion- Another large gulp of the drink.

BLANCHE These days in order for a woman to interest a man she must... lay all her cards on the table. And whether he plays the hand through or throws her in the discard pile is none of her control. I know you don’t play cards Allan, that’s not the point!

She slaps her hand on the wet bar.

BLANCHE There’s no art or poetry left in love anymore, only hardness. The pursuit of love is so full of evasions and ambiguities people don’t even know what to call it now. The world has become a hard, lonely place and there’s no room anymore for soft people like myself.

Blanche gesticulates with her drink in her hand to accent her point and sloshes a bit on the floor. She gets a rag from the bar and gets on her knees to wipe it up.

BLANCHE You want to tell me "Blanche, you deserve better. You deserve a man who can love you completely, who can give all of himself to you. You’re still young, you’ll find somebody else. You will find another safe place." Well... I don’t want to! And I’m not doing it! I found my safe place and I’m done. I’ll be chewed up and spit out out there, on my own! No one will remember my existence. But you do and... I just want to be near you, I’ve got to be with somebody, I can’t be alone!

Blanche realizes how desperate she looks in this pose and gets onto her feet, brushing her dress off.

BLANCHE So, in order to keep us both happy, I’ve decided that you can keep seeing him. You can be with Randall and stay with me. It’s not ideal but I think it’s in both of our best interests. I invited him to dinner tonight and I thought you could inform your, your lover on our new little arrangement. This way everyone is happy. You get to have your man and I get to keep the man I love. We’re allllll happy!

She does a "cheers" motion with her drink and finishes it. BLANCHE Well aren’t you going say anything? Stop looking at me funny, like, like I’m crazy! Like I’m not being realistic. I don’t want realism, I don’t want the truth. I want what ought to be the truth! YOU are my safe place, that’s what ought to be true! You don’t know what it’s like to mourn the death of love, the death of yourself. I am in mourning for my life! No, I just came up with that, I do have some inclination for poetry, you’re not the only one.

Blanche has worked herself into a frenzy where even she can’t tell if she is laughing or crying. She tries to calm herself, putting the liquor and glasses away and fixing her face and hair in the mirror.

BLANCHE When I was a little girl, I used to sit outside my parents door and listen to them argue, hooting and hollering into the night, all the time. And one time, I asked Mama "if you and Daddy don’t like each other, why do you stay together?" And you know what she told me? She said, "Honey, you don’t have to like someone to love them. That man could put me through all kinds of hell, and I’d love him through it. That’s what real love is." So I’m gonna love you through this. I’m very...adaptable to circumstances. She looks at her wedding ring and smiles.

BLANCHE I’d rather have to share you than be alone. The doorbell rings. BLANCHE Ah, our guests have arrived. She takes one last look in the mirror and then turns to Allan. BLANCHE How do I look

In this version I played a lot more with her drunkenness and erratic behavior, which I ultimately decided could be more subtle. I also apparently struggled to decide whether to name her husband Allen or Randall. Given that his name is Allen in the play, I’m happy I ended up choosing the former.

[ash-is-not-trash]

Helios: A Ship in Space

A lone figure in a room. Dark. Quiet. His ghostly pallor glows dimly in the light of his Helopad. He drummed his bony fingers impatiently on the desk in front of him. He had been waiting for what seemed like ages for his guest. Time seemed so much slower in the ship than on the planet, but he supposed that might be that the artificial day and night cycle was tuned to Earth and not to G'vosh. He was vaguely reminded of a birthday he'd had as a child, spent much like today, where he'd waited for seemingly endless hours for his friends to arrive so the party could begin.

Was that the birthday mum dropped the cake on the floor?

His memory was not what it used to be but he chuckled at the thought nonetheless. He slumped down further in his chair and let out a small huff. His patience was beginning to run out when the door to his office slid open.

“Well, well, well. It's about time you got here.”

“Hu! Sie hat gesagn duss au hasslich aussient!” A loud beep with a computerized voice signaled in his ear. “To translate in real time, push the left button.”

He reached up to his left ear, pushed the small circular device, and was rewarded with a small 'ting'.

“Repeating initial phrase,” a robotic voice said. “Ha! They said you got ugly.” The computer's voice chimed back and added, “Since this is not a registered acquaintance, I should point out the significance of the informal form of you-'du'- versus the formal form-'sie'. I believe she intends a lack of respect.”

Davian's face hardened as he listened but he forced a tight smile anyways.

“Kat, it is always a pleasure to welcome you aboard the Helios. I know you have gotten used to a-” He searched his brain for a tactful way to phrase it “-more quaint class of starship.” Her expression soured at this and Davian reveled in his small victory. “ But I assure you will find your quarters suitable to your tastes.” He spat that last word out a little harsher than intended and cursed himself for his lack of professionalism.

Katrina rattled off a few terse words in German and the computer translated again.

“Thanks for your unyielding courtesy my friend. I'm sure my stay here will be as lovely as your charm.”

“I assure you it will be.” he shot back and flashed her an almost predatory smile.

He noticed the way she stood with all her weight on her left foot and her fingers curved around her protruding hip.

She turned to walk away, but paused after Davian set something down on the table.

“Nicht wieder...” she mumbled pivoting back so she was facing him again. “Not again,” his translator buzzed in his ear.

“You didn't forget did you?” She crooned, taking a step closer to his desk.

Davian forced himself to really look at her for the first time since she arrived. Piercing gray eyes looked at him being her sharp aquiline nose. Her bright red hair was beginning to be streaked with silver, and her figure had filled out considerably but otherwise, she looked the same. Acts the same too. He reminded himself.

“If I had forgotten, you might have expected a warmer welcome.” He quipped cruelly. Katrina visibly deflated. “Now,” he continued, “I have work to do. There will be someone waiting to escort you around the ship. Good day.” And with that, he was done, turning his attention fully back to his work.

Katrina let out an angst-filled sigh and exited the room. When she stepped out she ran into a- man? Woman? She couldn't really tell, but they were dressed in all black and had almost shimmering onyx skin to match. They were clearly waiting for her.

“Miss Lepwig,” they addressed her with a kind voice, “I am Charlie. If you'll follow me.” They reached out their hand.

She grabbed it trustingly but was still unsure Their voice certainly didn't lessen the ambiguity of their gender.

“I am a native here miss, although I do frequent Earth. We do not have those kinds of distinctions here. No man and woman. Only us.”

“Wait- how...” Katrina started

“The look on your face was quite obvious darling. Besides, it is a common question from Earthlings.” It turned a sharp corner that Katrina hadn't seen.

The lighting in the corridor became eerie purple shade and as they progressed down the hallway, the floor cloaked beneath them. At the end, there was a tiny hole in one of the walls. A bright white pinprick of light shot through it, illuminating a straight line that looked bright enough to shoot through solid objects.

“Now, this might tingle, but it won't hurt.” Charlie said as they gripped her hand a bit harder.

Confused, Katrina started to ask them what they meant, but before she could, they were thrust through that thin line of white light.

It could have been an instant or an eternity before they arrived on the other side, Katrina couldn't tell. She was, however, thankful for Charlie's grip on her hand, as she nearly collapsed when they landed. Her legs were shaking like jelly, and she was covered with a thin sheen of cold sweat.

“Are you alright miss?” Charlie asked, patting her back lightly with their other hand.

“I'll live.” She replied steadying herself. One look around the room they had been taken to however, and she felt shaky again.

It seemed to her that she had been transported back in time and space to her first apartment in New Hamburg. She even recognized the books on the bookshelf as the ones she still had at home.

“How-”

“Just an illusion ma'am. A visual approximation of a familiar setting to make you feel more comfortable here.” Charlie answered before she could even get her question out.

Except she didn't feel bequem- she felt uneasy. Charlie walked close by her side as she examined the room. Her arm bumped with his and although there was not significant warmth to the touch, she felt somehow more safe regardless. Still,she'd rather not be in a house with these kinds of memories

Davian lazily traced his fingers in a “K-L” shape across his chrome desk. The computer in his ear signaled that viewing would start in 2 seconds. He lowered a pair of glasses over his eyes and submerged himself in Katrina's world. This time he wouldn't fuck up. This place was painfully familiar to him though, and he longer to be there again himself. In the old days.

“New Hamburg is a strange choice.” he heard Katrina say.

“Well,” Charlie started, “When given a brain scan, your dopamine and serotonin levels were the most properly balanced here- meaning it was your happiest place. Scientifically that is. It also read that your cortisol levels were the most stable here, meaning you were less stressed.”

“Well I was young.” She thumbed through her old notebooks absentmindedly, feeling a lingering sadness wash over her. “Uber warum.” She muttered outloud before switching to English. “Why did I ever leave?”

“You tell me.” They replied with a dismissive shrug.

She struggled to remember the exact details. Vague pieces of memories swirled past her in her mind, but she couldn't quite pin them down. It was so long ago, and she'd had no desire to remember it at the time. An empty bottle of vodka sitting on the vanity caught the corner of her eye, but she refused to look at it closer, instead opting to walking to he opposite side of the room and stand by Charlie. It didn't really matter why she left anyway, she just knew she didn't want to stay here any longer.

“Is there anyway I could get a less...personal setting?” She inquired.

“Well, I...am afraid not miss.” Charlie seemed surprised at the question. “ The program has already been set, and it would take weeks to change such a large program.”

Meanwhile in his office, Davian rolled his eyes underneath his Heloglasses. She may not remember why this place left such a bad taste in her mouth, but he did. He had spent hours in this program reliving that fateful night, every piece of furniture, every speck of dust leaving a lasting imprint on his mind. He closed his eyes to relieve himself of the memory for a moment. But even with his eyes shut tight the moments replayed in his mind, haunting him, toying with his psyche. He raised his hand to his temple and rubbed. Great, the headaches are back. He thought bitterly.

“Where are you going miss?” Charlie's voice snapped Davian's head back to the action on the screen. Looking through Katrina's eyes he could see she was leaving the apartment. He almost thought about locking the program, but his curiosity was piqued, and he wanted to see where she went.

“Is this a full program of New Hamburg, or just my apartment? I can go out can't I?” She asked, but she was already heading to the stairwell.

“Well, of course it's a full program miss, but I don't know if you should be going out right now. Wouldn't you rather settle in? Sleep perhaps? You had a long journey here.” Charlie trotted after her, struggling to keep up.

“I think I'd rather see the sights. Visit the familiar places you know? I think it would put me at ease. I'm supposed to be comfortable, aren't I?” Davian was puzzled at her actions. He didn't expect her avoidance would go so far as this. She's going to ruin the plan. His mind told him letting her roam was a bad idea, but his hand didn't reach for the control switch. He wanted to see where she went, had to see where she went. So he folded his hands in his lap and waited. Like a predator stalking his prey, he waited.

After a few blocks through the historic downtown area of New Hamburg, Katrina had arrived at her destination. She slowed to a stop and felt Charlie halt behind her. The storefront was basically a hole in the wall, with only a swinging wooden sign of an alligator eating a chicken to identify it by. Pushing the heavy oak door open, Katrina stepped inside her old stomping grounds, one of the most familiar places in the world to her. The bar was almost exactly the same as she'd remembered it, down to the greenish-orange puke stain at the entrance that Skepp had never been able to scrub out of the carpet. Low hanging rustic lamps bathed the space in warm light, and the wooden furniture and decor made it feel authentically old. Vintage dart boards and slot machines sat gathering dust in the corners, used mostly as set pieces rather than as actual games. It was perfect down to the last detail. The only thing that was missing, were the people.

The only sign of life other than Charlie and Katrina, was a wiry barkeep shining glasses behind the counter. He was no bartender that Katrina recognized. She had hoped they would have at least programmed a familiar face into the setting. Even if he wasn't real, Skepp would be a welcome sight at the moment. Mustering up as much confidence as she could, Katrina walked slowly towards the strange new bartender. She was unsure of what her real goal was here, but she knew that none of this felt right, and she needed answers. Clearing her throat she stared the man in the face and demanded attention.

On the other side of the looking glass however, Davian had seen enough. He was getting tired of these games. She never learns. In a huff of annoyance he pulled his hands from his lap and pressed the big red button on his desk.

Suddenly, in a blinding glow of white light, Katrina was transformed into a majestic horse, whinnying and braying at the counter. The barkeep turned to her and said, “Why the long face?”