#MA in Sociology

[firstprinced]

sometimes. often. i just think about what it is that makes media with queer main pairings slap so much harder than those that do not have queer main pairings

[filthyjanuary]

SUCCESSFULLY OBTAINED PERMISSION FROM SHEILA TO WRITE ABOUT SUPERNATURAL FOR MY QUEER THEORY FINAL ESSAY PEACE AND LOVE ON PLANET EARTH

[sad--tree]

keep saying i don't want 2 work another retail xmas but canNOT 4 the life of me make myself finish my goddamn fucking job applications !!!!!! death & dying & despair etc. etc.

[sgvuguide]

Suresh Gyan Vihar University (SGVU) is offering an ma sociology online program. The program is designed to provide students with a comprehensive understanding of social issues in different cross-cultural societies. Students will learn about the latest social theories and research methods, and they will have the opportunity to apply their knowledge to real-world problems. The program is ideal for students who are interested in pursuing a career in social work, public policy, or research.

[vipinrajawat31]

Fuel your passion with a Master's degree tailored for your dreams. Explore from a diverse range of focused MA specialisation programmes at LPU Online. ​

To know more about LPU Online, click on the link: www.lpuonline.com

[valueadss]

JNU MA Sociology

With Edunative's Mock Exam Series, you can get the perfect practice for your upcoming exams. We have a great number of tests for you to attempt so that you can polish your preparation and come out with flying colors on the big day!

[kon-igi]

POST PER VERI UOMINI

e non per lagnosi poeti, fragilini pittori, rachitici musicisti o nerd informatici miopi con allergia a sapone e deodoranti. E nemmeno per ingegneri disorientati spazio-temporalmente con episodi di derealizzazione e distacco fobico dalla realtà. Per non parlare di matematici pavidi, pretestuosi filosofi ed economisti, sociologi e tutti gli STEM a cui vengono sciatalgia ed epicondilite con lussazione di spalla se provano ad alzare un attrezzo che sia più pesante di una pinzetta per francobolli.

Io parlo di veri uomini, di quelli che si radono a secco con il bowie e tra una guancia e l'altra ne devono riaffilare la lama perché pure i peli si radono la barba ma con la motosega. Di quelli che prendono gli integratori di ferro sottoforma di frammenti roventi di acciaio che si conficcano sotto la pelle mentre tagliano e fresano putrelle. E gli integratori di calcio sono la polvere di cemento e sabbia che aspirano mentre gettano le fondamenta di grattacieli. Dispositivi di Protezione Individuale? Pelle, calli, bestemmie e tasso alcolico costantemente sopra la media. Infortunio sul lavoro? Raro momento per riposarsi uno o due minuti e poi ricominciare.

Ed è a questi veri uomini - il cui dopobarba si chiama Polvere&Sudore™ (sono gli unici due ingredienti, letteralmente) - che chiedo consiglio sull'acquisto di una decente

SALDATRICE A ELETTRODO CON INVERTER

utilizzo frequente (3-4 volte al mese) ma non giornaliero

a elettrodo MMA, mi raccomando, non a filo MIG/MAG

che sia portatile (che non debba portarlo in giro con un transpallet)

che non superi i 100 euro (massimo 150 se ne vale la pena)

che preferibilmente sia su Amazon con spedizione Prime perché questo mese ho esaurito la mia ora di esposizione a realtà non virtuale andando in un centro commerciale con delle persone dentro.

I suddetti veri uomini sono inoltre pregati di spiegarmi la differenza pratica dei vari amperaggi con esempio comprensibile ('Con 100 ampere ci saldi lo stagno per 1 minuto e poi la macchina esplode', 'Con 400 ampere ci saldi la torre Eiffel per 1134 ore filate').

So che ci siete perché vi ho visto più volte corrermi incontro con il temperamatite per farmi la punta al cazzo quando magari mettevo 2 grammi di cemento in meno nella betoniera o aprivo un quadro elettrico senza aver tolto la tensione a tutta l'Italia settentrionale.

Ma io vi voglio bene per questo e gioirò del vostro maschio aiuto.

Se invece non appartenete a questa categoria, non ve ne faccio una colpa perché al mondo ci vogliono anche gli artisti come Sfera Ebbasta e gli ingegneri come Elon Musk, però magari contribuite con un gentile reblog... fatto con delicatezza sennò magari vi lussate un dito e la trap non arriverà più su Marte ❤

[eoieopda]

GET TO KNOW ME 🧍🏻‍♀️

i was tagged by my shrimpie @sailorsoons

WHAT'S THE ORIGIN OF YOUR BLOG TITLE?

it’s the romanization of one of my favorite korean words (esp. of those that don’t directly translate to english)! i think it fits — i experience a lot of things that are almost too absurd to believe.

FAVORITE FANDOMS?

at this point, i exist solely in the k-pop sphere. if i have to get specific, i’ll say that i have the most fun (and witness the least drama) in svt/caratblr.

MORE UNDER THE CUT

OTP(s)/SHIPNAME?

i’m not a shipper shipper, but my fave dynamics are soonhoon (svt), yoonjin (bts), and topaz (ateez).

FAVORITE COLOR?

i’m mostly a monochromatic bitch, so my primary/basic answer is black. i do fuck heavily with teal and really earthy colors, though.

FAVORITE GAME?

fallout 4, skyrim, cyberpunk 2077, and any pokemon game are all tied for first. honorable mention: spiritfarer.

SONG STUCK IN YOUR HEAD?

it’s not a song, but the audio that is truly LOOPING in my head is sabres’ goalie, ukko-pekka luukkonen, saying his own name, lmao. beyond that, it’s nausea by jeff rosenstock.

WEIRDEST HABIT/TRAIT?

i’m not sure which is my “weirdest”, but i often do this thing where i subconsciously make extremely old/niche pop culture references while drunk — when the thing i’m quoting/referencing isn’t something i’ve seen, heard, or thought about in 10+ years. (it’s a metaphor, @jihopesjoint)

HOBBIES?

writing, gaming, watching hockey + soccer, playing bass, yearning, watching gose, knitting, and running (when it’s not snowy/shitty, which is rare where i live).

IF YOU WORK, WHAT IS YOUR PROFESSION?

i’m an attorney. specifically, i prosecute (exclusively) cases of child abuse and neglect.

IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY JOB YOU WISH, WHAT WOULD IT BE?

i’d choose my current job in any timeline, but if i couldn’t, i’d want to be a mortician + funeral director. i think i’m incapable of doing things that aren’t morbid and heavy (??). alternatively, i want to travel around in a van and seek out ghosts, scooby-doo style.

SOMETHING YOU'RE GOOD AT?

if we’re talking “practical” skills, crafting/delivering/winning arguments, lol. i’m otherwise really good at figuring out plot points/twists really early and ruining the fun/suspense for myself (ask @jihopesjoint and @sailorsoons 💀)

SOMETHING YOU'RE BAD AT?

is “having a body” a sufficient answer? executive function in general, maintaining any semblance of a work/life balance, avoiding burnout, and commitment 😌

SOMETHING YOU LOVE?

my cats, the gays in my phone, and kwon hoshi 💕

SOMETHING YOU COULD TALK ABOUT FOR HOURS OFF THE CUFF?

^ anything up there

SOMETHING YOU HATE?

if i keep this really simple: birds. they scare the shit out of me.

SOMETHING YOU COLLECT?

this is embarrassing, but whenever i finish a legal pad, i keep the lil cardboard husk. i have a giant stack of them on the bookshelf in my office. it reminds me of how much i’ve accomplished, even when it doesn’t feel like i have.

SOMETHING YOU FORGET?

everything, all the time. my short- and long-term memory are both hazy as fuck because of my adhd, fibro fog, insomnia, and c-ptsd. absolutely nothing sticks for long in this swiss cheese brain of mine, lmao.

WHAT'S YOUR LOVE LANGUAGE?

physical touch and acts of service.

FAVORITE MOVIE/SHOW?

movie: the princess bride but also maybe inglorious basterds show: the devil judge

FAVORITE FOOD?

i feel like i’ll let several people down if i don’t say crab rangoon 💀 tbh, i don’t super care about food, but i do super care about diet dr. pepper.

FAVORITE ANIMAL?

raccoons!

ARE YOU MUSICAL?

yep! both of my parents are musicians/vocalists/music teachers, so it’s a “thing” in my family that you play multiple instruments, etc.

WHAT WERE YOU LIKE AS A CHILD?

honestly….. just the less-evolved version of my current self. i’ve always been extroverted, outgoing, chaotically friendly, etc.

FAVORITE SUBJECT AT SCHOOL?

sociology, history, and languages!

LEAST FAVORITE SUBJECT?

math. i’ve never been good at it, and it’s always made me feel stupid.

WHAT'S YOUR BEST CHARACTER TRAIT?

my capacity to care about many, many things very, very deeply.

WHAT'S YOUR WORST CHARACTER TRAIT?

that ^; my self-worth is handcuffed to my (own perception of my) productivity + very fucked-up/unattainable self-imposed standard of what is “good enough; and i have a habit of intellectualizing my feelings instead of actually allowing myself to feel them.

IF YOU COULD CHANGE ANY DETAIL OF YOUR DAY RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD IT BE?

i would make myself be adequately hydrated. could i still change that? yes. will i? ehhhhhhhh….

IF YOU COULD TRAVEL IN TIME, WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO MEET?

maybe my birth mom? idk.

REC YOUR FAVE FANFICS (SPREAD THE LOVE):

the iron ring by @sailoryooons, a word from our sponsors by @100vern, a series not yet finished/posted by @daechwitatamic, don’t sweat it by @miraclewoozi (i miss u) + anything else tagged here.

TAG OTHERS TO COMPLETE (NO PRESSURE): @miniseokminnies @seungkw1 @cherrrywon + anyone who wants to do this and hasn’t yet!

[bigbadjelly]

Gone Baby, Don’t Be Long

E42!Miles x reader

2.9k wrds

COLLEGE AU 💜You meet Miles during the summer break between freshman and sophomore year of college, and during the year you start developing feelings for him.

warnings: language, suggestive, drinking, oblivious reader

➽──────────────❥

He met you in a club, dancing like you were looking for somebody. Miles couldn’t help but give in once you made eye contact.

Dancing with you made him feel intoxicated, your smile made him borderline dizzy. Once the song ended he walked you to the bar.

“You’re beautiful,” was the first thing he said to you.

“Thanks. You too.”

You internally slapped yourself. He laughed, covering his smile. Shit. This guy was Micheal B Jordan level handsome. The purple bar lighting made his dark skin glow. It accentuated his muscles peaking from his jacket.

You sipped on your drink, feeling the substance warm your chest.

“Whatchu doin after this?”

You.

“Nothin ma, you tryna come over?”

A smile was your answer. You swayed next to him while waiting for the uber. You definitely drank more than you thought.

Miles took notice, holding your hand and bringing your back to his chest. He leaned down to whisper in your ear:

“Lean on me, mami”

You fell asleep on his shoulder on the drive to his place. He picked you up and carried you inside, laying you on his bed before sleeping on the couch.

You woke up in his bed to him making breakfast. He was playing a record: New Amerykah Part Two by Erykah Badu. It was a special edition with a purple record.

Immediately you geeked out, singing along in your smudged makeup and wrinkled dress, in the apartment of a man you’d known for less than 18 hours, chatting about the greatest neo-soul artist of all time.

“You like plantains, ma?”

“Obviamente.”

It was a fast friendship.

➽──────────────❥

“Friendship.”

It’s been months. Miles has either lost his game, or you are severely ignorant. How could he be friends with a beautiful girl that listened to the same music as him?

When he found out you both attended the same university, he invited you to a study date. Clearly he didn’t emphasize the ‘date’ part enough.

Here you were, on his couch in your pajama pants and one of Mile’s shirts, looking beautiful; talking about a cute guy you saw at the Taco Bell drive through.

You looked up from your laptop to see his deadpan expression.

“What’s the stank face for?”

“I dunno, (Y/N). What you talkin’ about other guys for?”

“Who else am I gonna tell?”

He kissed his teeth and looked back down at his work. You were used to it. Miles was a touch and go kind of guy, you could never really tell how he’d react.

Sometimes you would think you barely knew him. He was sweet around you, but most other people seemed to steer away. He was rarely without a bruise or two or a scratch. You wondered where he got them.

You still liked him. Every time you hung out with him you cursed yourself for not making a move the first night he brought you over. But since he never pulled anything like that, you figured your attraction was unrequited.

(You were wrong, by the way)

➽──────────────❥

You and Miles shared a Sociology class, and after a tough final exam you really wanted to surprise him with something nice.

You tried to think of foods he liked, but it was difficult. Anytime you hung out together he always insisted on getting whatever you wanted.

Close to giving up, you texted his old high school roommate you remembered meeting at a party Miles brought you to a while back.

———————————————————————

YOU: GANKE!! THIS IS URGENT!!

YOU: what is miles favorite food 🙏🏼

GANKE: who is tjis

YOU: 😒

YOU: y/n

GANKE: oh shit!

GANKE: miles gf

GANKE: idk probably tostones

YOU: awesome thanks

YOU: also we’re not dating

GANKE: …

GANKE: sure

———————————————————————

Tostones were easy enough. After getting ingredients and frying them, you put them in a lunchbox with some guacamole.

As an afterthought you grabbed some Coronas and some limes and left your dorm to catch the bus to Mile’s apartment.

On the way over you were deep in thought. You met Miles last summer, and you had been friends for close to a year.

You were always sleeping at his place, studying with him, eating with him, partying with him. You knew his family. He knew yours.

He wasn’t your best-friend. Because what you felt definitely wasn’t friendly. It was hungry. You ached for him. You wore his clothes for gods sake.

Shoving the baggage out of your mind, the bus came to a stop a block away from his building.

You knocked once.

Twice.

Three times?

Okay. So maybe he went somewhere else after taking the test. But he did say he was going home…

In your mind you weigh using the key he gave to to unlock his front door and let yourself in vs. being a normal person and giving up.

A soft thud from inside shifts your decision to the latter. You enter the apartment quietly, setting your bags and shoes on the floor before entering the living room.

It was an eery type of quiet. You heard wind flowing through an open window in another room down the hallway. A low groan, and another soft thump.

“Miles?”

The shuffling coming from the other room came to a dead stop. You made your way down to Mile’s room, turning and—

“¡Díos mío!”

You ran to a slumped Miles, covered in shallow cuts that were bleeding profusely. You touched a hand to his face, and he inhaled sharply, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips.

“Hola mami,”

“Are you fucking serious Morales? ¿Qué pasó?”

“Eso no es mi culpa,”

He let out a laugh that turned into a shallow cough. Your throat tightened, and you felt your eyes turn shiny.

Okay. Focus. First Aid.

“Miles. Where do you keep your first aid kit?”

“De…Debajo de la cama,” He strained.

You opened it to find most of the supplies depleted. With paper towels and clean water from the kitchen you dabbed at his face, frowning at his pained expression.

Being this close to his face should have had you rejoicing. You ran your hands along every curve of his head, your thumb swiping his bruised lip.

There was a larger cut near his scalp you were being especially careful of. Embarrassed, but determined, you stood on your knees with his legs tucked between yours, and his head leaned towards your chest as you cleaned and applied ointment to his scalp. A few butterfly bandaids finished the job.

“Done.”

He suddenly lifted his face to meet yours, and you fell back, your butt landing on his thighs as his hands reached up to catch your hips. He was impossibly close, maybe three centimeters was between your noses. You could see his speckled brown irises, a million shades of beautiful. You were breathing heavy. He moved closer, his eyelashes brushing yours as he looked down at your lips and

“I—um. I brought you tostones. and beer,”

The trance broke. His eyes met yours and he broke out in a grin that had you blushing all the way to your toes. You scrambled off of him and apologized for if you hurt him.

“Don’t flatter yourself, you couldn’t hurt me if you tried,”

Miles used the window to pull himself up, straining as he did so. you wrapped an arm around his waist and led him to the living room. After he was sat on the couch, you went to get the (now cold) tostones.

As you handed him a beer your hands brushed and he gave you the same look as earlier when you were on top of him.

Shit— was he going to kiss you then? Did you ruin it? You drank half your beer quickly, drowning the thought.

“Aye, you good ma?”

Misreading, Miles kicked himself for letting you find him like this. He thought you were drinking over his injuries.

Grabbing your empty hand, he held it, and looked at you all serious.

“Baby I want you to know that I trust you. And I know you aren’t some moral saint but I gotta let you know something about me that isn’t lawful,”

He was tipsy. You were tipsy. Miles felt his truth flowing from him to you, intoxicating him further. It was just like that first night. He had wanted to kiss you so bad, to do more than that. But you were drunk. Shit, he was drunk too.

He closed his eyes, breathing. Feeling your hand in his, small and un-calloused against his rough skin.

“Y/n. I’m the Prowler,”

Opening his eyes to see your reaction, he was caught off guard by your wide grin.

“…Yknow I could be emo and shit, Morales, and tell you that our relationship is over because you’re some type of vigilante,”

Your words slurred, your eyelids low. You said relationship instead of friendship on purpose. Feeling him hanging off of your words, you kept it slow.

“But…”

You bring both hands to his cut up, bandaged, and tipsy face.

“I know you’re a good person. People gotta do shit they don’t wanna do. I know you worry about your mama and how she’s living—“

You sigh.

“Miles I grew up in Brooklyn. I know how it is. My family survived by doing some illegal shit. I’m not gonna lie and say I love what you’re doing but please don’t d—“

You don’t know when you started crying. Miles wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into a hug. With your face in his neck and hand twisted in his shirt you cry. Embarrassing and ugly, heaves wracking your chest.

“Please don’t die on me, Miles,”

You feel his body shaking, and pull back thinking he’s laughing at you. He’s not. Miles G Morales is crying.

“Oh jevo—“

You don’t think about how easily the name slips from your lips. You pull him into you. His cheek on your chest as he shakes and holds onto you like a life raft.

He falls asleep like that. You, with your back against the cushions, him slotted between your legs with his head on your chest.

Mile’s weight and even breathing puts your to sleep, your fingers caressing the curls at the nape of his neck.

➽──────────────❥

“Hey, Y/n, I love…” Too much.

“What’s up Y/n, are you free later?” Nah, that shit didn’t work last time…

“Do you want to go on a real date sometime Y/n?” Fuck.

Miles drags his hand down his face with a groan. You really have him whipped, cause he’s been standing in front of the mirror for half an hour talking to himself.

A week ago when he’d told you he was the prowler he thought that was progress towards a more… romantic type of relationship.

Almost like he was giving you the amount of trust he needed for this to really work out. Jesus, he needed to man up.

Why is killing people so much easier than asking out the girl you like?

It was almost concerning how easily you accepted him. You were too good for him. You were everything good.

The way you smelled, the way you walked, the way you got along with his mom, the way you always—

*knock knock*

Showed up at the right time.

Miles walked over to the window next to the fire escape and unlocked it. As soon as it was open, you launched yourself at him.

“Hey—hey ma chill!” He exclaimed as he stumbled backwards, arms wrapping around you.

You stared up at him, chin on his chest. After getting off work, you decided to head right over to Mile’s and spill all your feelings.

Your favorite coworker had recently asked out her now boyfriend, and it inspired you to be bold. But…

Now that you were here and wrapped around him, it felt less easy.

“What’s on your mind N/n?” Miles asked, guiding you to sit next to him on his bed.

“Um… I just got off work and wanted to… I dunno. See you, I guess. Sorry. I sound dumb and I definitely smell like frying oil.”

He grinned at you, tucking a stray curl behind your ear.

“How about you shower, mami? You got clothes here. I don’t gotta see Unc until 9.”

You nodded, getting up and turning to hide your dumb smile. Why was he so romantic and handsome? Someone needed to detain you before you jumped his ass.

You walked into the living room in a towel. Miles laid back on the couch watching soccer.

“Hey, Morales, can you tell me where the—“

He turned to look at you, his eyes widening before slapping his hands over his eyes

“Aye mami where yo clothes at!” He shouted turning away from you.

“You never seen a girl naked before Morales?” You quipped.

Usually he would have a response but he seemed almost shy. Weird.

“I put your clothes in the dryer. It’s your nike shorts and that Aaliyah shirt you stole from Ma”

“Cool. Thanks.”

When you arrive back in the living room properly dressed Miles lets out a sigh of relief.

Something in him felt guilty for relishing the glance he caught of you with water droplets still clinging to your skin, and towel stopping at the top of your thighs.

“Do you have a blow dryer?” Your words knock him out of his trance.

“Yeah. Follow me, it’s in the bathroom.”

Miles plugs it into the wall, and you feel a pang in your chest.

“Did your girlfriend leave this here Morales?”

Miles laughs.

“I dunno, did you?” He replies.

That shut you up real quick.

He grabs a boar hair brush and blow drys your wet curls straight section by section. He’s gentle, a soft smile resting on his face as he works.

As he moves to unplug the blow dryer you turn around, facing him with your back against the bathroom counter.

Once again, your find your faces close, his hovering above you now that you’re both standing.

“You got to stop playing with me Miles, or I’m gonna think you’re serious”

“About what, ma?”

“Don’t play dumb. You know I like you and you still—“

“I didn’t know that.” He says softly, breath catching in his throat.

“I didn’t know you liked me.” His hand found your cheek, stroking the soft skin.

“Well..” You say, your voice shaking. “Now you do. So—“

His lips catch yours suddenly, and you gasp into the kiss before leaning into him. Your arms stretch up to wrap around his neck, burying him in your lips.

His hands hold your face, tilting you to the side as his tongue pokes though your lips deepening the kiss. You moan at the action and his takes the opportunity to grab your thighs and set your butt on the counter behind you, putting your faces closer.

His hand finds your lower back and you arch into him as he kisses you dizzy. His lips are soft against yours, and he tastes delicious. His small whimpers send shivers down your spine.

He pulls away suddenly, his eyes lidded as he breathes heavily. His lips are shiny.

“Y/n, you wanna go on a real date sometime?”

“You have to say it first.”

“Say what?”

“I said it, so you have to say it. Say you like me, Morales” You cross your arms across your chest.

He chuckles, hands leaving your thighs to hang at his sides.

“I can’t do that,”

“Why not?” You frown.

“I don’t like you,” The fuck?

“I love you, Y/n. So much.” Miles moves closer to you, kissing you.

It’s softer this time. He pulls away and wraps his arms around you. You do the same, hitting him on the back. He leans back to look at you, tears welling in your eyes.

“Woah, woah, hey ma I’m sorry I shouldn’t have joked like that-“

“I love you Miles Morales.”

His eyes widen and he laughs. You hit him in the shoulder, tears dripping down your face as you cry.

“Why *hick* are you laughing dickhead?!”

“Cause my girl being ridiculous and crying cause she loves me so much.”

“Your girl, huh?” He wipes your tears with his thumbs, drying his hands on his shirt.

“Yeah. You’ve always been my girl. But now we can be kissing and shit”

“And shit?”

“What, you need an example, ma?” You squeal as he hoists you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you back to bed.

➽──────────────❥

Miles wakes up to his 8:30 alarm. The sky is dark. You shift next to him, still asleep. He kisses the top of your head and drags the blanket to your shoulders before getting out of bed to get his Prowler getup on.

He stands in the living room, twisting his mechanical glove onto his hand as he hears you shuffling into the room.

“Miles?” You rub sleep out of your eyes and look at the soft purple glow in the dark room. You’d never seen Miles in his Prowler suit in person. Only on the news.

“Hey ma. I gotta head out for a bit,”

You walk over to him quickly and wrap him in a hug, the cold metal of his claws rest on your back.

“Come back and be safe Morales. I’m not leaving until I see you come back through that window.”

“You got it ma.” He pecks your lips and closes the window, jumping from the fire escape. You sigh, walking back into Mile’s bedroom and tucking yourself alone under the covers.

Gone baby, don’t be long.

➽──────────────❥

first fic🤭 (on this tumblr) pls enjoy and ignore any errors because i am literally just a girl

i also have a 1610!Miles fic in the works. It’s getting long so part 1 may be coming soon. Love ya!

(Actually one last thing: “Debajo de la cama” is also a lyric in Lo Busqué by Ana Bárbara)

[lboogie1906]

Ambassador Dr. Roy Leslie Austin (December 13, 1939) spent most of his life as a university scholar before becoming a diplomat at the age of 61. When he was nominated by President George W. Bush to be Ambassador to Trinidad and Tobago he was a sociology professor at Pennsylvania State University. He served as ambassador (2001-09).

He was born in Kingstown, St. Vincent and the Grenadines. He graduated from the St. Vincent Grammar School and worked for the British Government as a Customs Officer. He returned to St. Vincent Grammar School as a teacher. While at St. Vincent Austin, he played cricket on the colony’s cricket squad and was captain of its soccer team.

He entered Yale University where he became a classmate of President George W. Bush. They lived in the same residential college, Davenport College, and both were inducted into the secret Skull and Bones Society.

After graduating from Yale with a BA in Sociology, he enrolled in graduate school at the University of Washington, earning an MA and a Ph.D. degree in Sociology.

He joined the sociology faculty at Pennsylvania State University (1972-91). He became an authority on race and gender disparities in the criminal justice system. He served as Director of the Crime, Law, and Justice Program at the university (1994-2001). He became the Director of the Africana Research Center.

He holds memberships in the American Sociological Association, the Caribbean Studies Association, and the American Society of Criminology.

He married Glynis Josephine Sutherland (1967). The couple has two sons and one daughter. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[cleoselene]

Happy new year, tumblr friends. 2024 was a piece of shit, wasn't it? Just a festering pile. Kendrick Lamar ruining Drake, that was like, the only good thing I could think of that happened this year??? "Not Like Us" totally should win the Song of the Year Grammy. It won't, but it should, because that was a fucking commercial moment. It'll probably be something braindead like "Espresso" (no offense to Sabrina Carpenter fans but her music is not my thing x100). But man that was THEE song.

Music wise I was obsessed with Beyoncé most of the year and welp... that news about her husband being an alleged child rapist kind of took the wind out of those sails. Like, I fully believe Bey was groomed by Jay at a very young age and she's like Celine Dion in that the grooming was VERY effective and she will love that man forever and ever until death. It's depressing as hell. Lemonade is a masterpiece, but it was marketing. She was never going to leave that awful man. My mom is trying to tell me to keep loving her music, and I gotta admit, Beyoncé Bowl was phenomenal as like... everything she does is phenomenal. But the joy has been somewhat sucked out of it for me.

Rediscovered Vienna Teng and Phoebe Bridgers after the election, been more tuned out of the news than I have been in like, decades. I passively consume information, but I try to avoid it. Y'all, for me to avoid politics is bizarre. I remember my first election I followed, 1988, when I was 9, and I was SO for Dukakis. My family is politics/news junkies. But if 2016 fracture my spirit for this stuff, 2024 shattered it. Women will always be second class citizens in this country. It breaks me on a level that makes me question my identity -- why did I go to school for seven years getting a BA in Econ/Sociology and an MA in Sociology? Because I care about how the world works but no one else fucking seems to notice except fellow academic politics people like me, and they sure as hell aren't on the news (except Rachel Maddow, and she's just... kind of lost her plot for me too).

My soulmate dog died a week after the election exactly, and ever since the hits have just kept coming. My mom was so hesitant when I decided to adopt a young puppy, but I need her. I need her intense energy and many needs to distract myself from how shitty I think the world is.

I feel like a failure at even being a decent citizen because these MAGA monsters have just drained me. Another four years of this??? What the fuck, America. I went out to run two brief errands today and saw: -a pickup truck with "We The People" in the constitutional font on the back of the truck bed, but the window was covered in a massive Confederate battle flag. hey duder, you are giving your truck cognitive dissonance -a fucking cybertruck -a jeep crudely painted with the front as the American flag and hand-painted the words on one window: "GOD TRUMP LAW" and the other side said "STAND UP FOR SCIENCE" and I was awed at the even greater cognitive dissonance going on there. The font for these painted words I'd name "Scary Free Candy Van Sans" -a truck with a decal of Calvin of Calvin & Hobbes peeing on the words JOE BIDEN. There have been idk thousands and thousands of Calvin & Hobbes comics and Calvin has never ever peed on anything. Also the guy who designed the Punisher logo hates you fascist fucks too -a pickup truck with a decal of the silhouette of a women on her knees from above, and two hands wrapped around each of her braided pigtails as if using them for purchase, and the "drawing" fades out at the hip, but it's clear what's going on. I am saying "woman" because I hope that's what it was supposed to represent, the hair being in braided pigtails? Sus. But right next to that decal was one of praying hands holding a rosary and the word "Jesus" in some reverent font.

and that's a drive around Fort Myers, in Robert E. Lee County, Florida. I hate it here so fucking much.

anyway, here's hoping 2025 is at least gentler. The last two months of 2024 have had me feeling like I'm hanging on by a thread. I think it's my yearly winter MS flare too. Not a full on relapse, but every winter I just start to feel like garbage. And no, it's not S.A.D., I don't get that because Florida and I take vitamin D supplements anyway. it's just the time of year when everything starts to feel more and more inflamed

I'm enjoying World of Warcraft a lot still, but super bummed I can't seem to find an RP guild. Boo-urns

[yashiro-arisugawa]

NAH THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY TO ME

IMAGINE PLAYING LADS AND ANALYSING ALL THE THIRST FOR AN MA THESIS LMFAO 😭😭😭 Screenshots and the otome fantasy documentation gonna go crazy

No cuz I actually did an anime themed dissertation for Sociology and Gender Studies class for undergrad and it actually turned out to be really good so now I'm motivated to continue with fictional themes for my MA too 😭

Save and make the world great with animanga & games thru acads frfr

[thishazeleyeddemon]

Hi! I'm fundraising for my club again!

We need to raise

500$

In order to be able to host a speaker, Darrel Ray of Recovering From Religion at Sacramento State!

On October 12, 2023 we will be hosting Dr. Darrel Ray from Recovering From Religion! This is our chapter's first event and we would love to have Dr. Ray visit our campus and discuss his work at Recovering From Religion and the psychological implications of religious trauma.

Dr. Darrel W. Ray is author of four books, two on organizational team issues, The God Virus: How Religion Infects Our Lives and Culture which explores the social-psychology of religion and his latest book, Sex and God: How Religion Distorts Sexuality. He has been a psychologist for over 30 years, practicing counseling and clinical psychology for 10 years then moved into organizational psychology and consulting. He has been a student of religion most of his life and holds a MA degree in religion as well as a BA in Sociology/Anthropology and a Doctorate in psychology. You can learn more about this movement at www.recoveringfromreligion.com.

https://secure.givelively.org/donate/secular-student-alliance/help-csu-sacramento-ssa-host-dr-darrel-ray

If you are interested in donating, you can follow this link or the QR code below to donate!

[dresmoove]

LA Task - About Andre.

What is your full name?

— Andre Terrell Davis Jr.

Where and when were you born?

— Atlanta, Ga

Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)

— Andre never knew his mom, and his father Andre Davis Sr. is a truck driver that had no intentions of being an active father. He was raised by his grandparents, Dion and Loretta Davis who own a soul food restaurant in Atlanta. Their nurturing personalities saved his life.

Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?

— He has 2 siblings but he doesn't know them.

Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.

— Andre lives in Boston, Ma part time and Los Angeles, Ca part time by himself.

What is your occupation?

— He is the starting small forward for the Boston Celtics.

Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.

— Andre is African-American with no tattoos and stands at 6 foot 6 inches tall and weighing about 220 pounds. His hair is always clean cut and he keep his beard long but shaped. He dresses how he feels and can be found breaking fashion norms because he likes to experiment and wear what he thinks looks good.

To which social class do you belong?

— Upper class.

Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?

— No.

Are you right- or left-handed?

— Right handed

What does your voice sound like?

— Andre's voice is deep, gruff, and smooth.

What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?

— Random basketball words. Huh, shut up nigga, energy.

What do you have in your pockets?

— His phone and wallet.

Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?

— No.

PART 2: GROWING UP

How would you describe your childhood in general?

— Andre's childhood was rough for a long time with neither parents wanting him. He was bounced around family members, almost joined a gang in middle school but his grandparents stepped in and gave him a second chance. They were strict but it was what he needed.

What is your earliest memory?

— Getting a bike for his 6th birthday.

How much schooling have you had?

— Andre left college early to pursue his NBA career but he has since gone back an finished up and now holds a bachelor's degree in sociology with a concentration in family, gender and society.

Did you enjoy school?

— Yes he did.

Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?

— He learned how to play basketball from playing older guys in the park and watching tv.

While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.

— He didn't have anyone to look up to but he had a lot of people he knew he didn't want to be like. Andre wanted his own path and to be his own man.

While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?

— He didn't talk a lot and stayed to himself but he felt safe with his grandparents and respected them.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

— He wanted to be an astronaut.

As a child, what were your favorite activities?

— He liked to play sports and video games.

As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?

— Andre wasn't popular until high school because that was the longest he had stayed at once school. Everybody he was around he didn't consider friends because he wasn't used to having people support him and he never spoke to any of them once he went to college. The only person he was friends with was his high school sweetheart and she was his rock.

When and with whom was your first kiss?

— He had his first kiss in 5th grad with a girl who used to bully him.

Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?

— He's not a virgin, he lost his virginity at 16 to his girlfriend at the time.

PART 3: PAST INFLUENCES

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?

— The day he signed a contract to play in the NBA.

Who has had the most influence on you?

— His grandparents were his only good influence and by far the greatest.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

— Andre considers making the NBA the greatest thing he's ever done.

What is your greatest regret?

— His biggest regret is getting caught up with gangs when he was young.

What is the most evil thing you have ever done?

— He beat up a kid for no reason just to prove he could hang.

Do you have a criminal record of any kind?

— He's been arrested for fighting and for possession.

When was the time you were the most frightened?

— He was scared the last time he got arrested because he thought that would be the one that stuck.

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?

— He was embarrassed when he got caught stealing as a kid.

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?

— He wouldn't change anything because it got him to where he is.

What is your best memory?

— His best memory was making his first basket in the NBA.

What is your worst memory?

— His worst memory was not having anyone to celebrate mother's and father's day with.

[wayti-blog]

"Research led by the Department of Sociology & Anthropology at Ohio University has found evidence of hominin activity at a Romanian fossil site dating to at least 1.95 million years ago. This discovery pushes back the known date of European hominins by half a million years and establishes Grăunceanu as the oldest confirmed European evidence of hominin activity.

Grăunceanu, part of the Tetoiu Formation in Romania, lies within a Late Villafranchian biochronological zone (2.2–1.9 Ma) and has yielded a diverse faunal assemblage indicative of a forest-steppe environment.

The timing of the earliest hominin dispersals into Eurasia has been elusive. Fossil evidence from Dmanisi, Georgia (~1.85–1.77 million years ago) represents the earliest indisputable hominin presence outside Africa. Isolated sites in Europe and Asia with lithics and bone modifications suggest earlier, intermittent hominin activity. Until now, no European site had reliably demonstrated hominin activity predating ~1.4 million years ago with robust age determinations.

In the study, "Hominin presence in Eurasia by at least 1.95 million years ago," published in Nature Communications, researchers analyzed faunal remains from Grăunceanu, a site in the Olteţ River Valley of Romania, identifying cut marks indicative of hominin butchery methods."

continue reading

[thebestpartofwakingup]

Note: this does NOT have to be the sociologist/writer you AGREE with the most — obviously this is the #marxism website — but the one you personally found the most interesting or enjoyed writing about the most.

I was always the odd one out in my sociology classes because I ADORED the constructivism lens I just thought it was a really fun way to analyze different writings and films (I ended up in a lot of sociology classes that liked to assign like. Film reports? That’s how I learned I hate film-based classes having to watch a film for a grade is so much worse than reading a book for a grade)

Yet most of my professors and other classmates treated Durkheim as the “hard” intro writer and the constructivism lens as the “hard” lens to write for even though I always found it the easiest to universally apply (because it’s just like. Social symbolism? A thing present in all forms of media related even tangentially to culture or human experiences? How is this not the easiest lens to use for every sociological “use 1-X lenses to analyze this story/article” assignment ever?)

ALSO: NOT including an “other” category because I want to keep this focused on these three in particular since, at least in the US, they are more or less taught as the first three “specific” or “initial” lenses of sociological analysis (which is why Marx isn’t my favorite because I got real sick of having to read the first section of Das Kapital the start of every semester since he it was ALWAYS assigned as a “warm up” in EVERY FUCKING CLASS)