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lnsfawwi · 6 months ago

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Here's a thought:

kid Steve speaks better Gaelic than English. their pastor sometimes takes care of Steve when Sarah is working and he'd teach Steve English but, as one can imagine, the accent is not good. Steve is also partially deaf, he doesn't always control his volume well, so he speaks broken, heavily accented English, and that isn't a winning combo for friendships on top of his firecracker personality.

enters Bucky, the popular kid who somehow decides that Steve is his best friend in the world.

Bucky's grandparents immigrated from England, his dad is Romanian Jew. Bucky is not a very devoted Catholic, and the family still celebrates major Jewish holidays. they even hold a mini bar mitzvah for Bucky's 13 birthday.

the point is, Bucky has a fairly neutral accent that gets more Brooklyn by the day, he is also some kind of a polyglot. he speaks also Yiddish, he learns Italian from the neighbors, and French at school.

Bucky never makes fun of Steve's accent or gets frustrated when Steve can't quite get the pronunciation right. they read together, literally. Bucky would have one of his favorite novels, and he'd read the words out loud for Steve, when it's Steve's turn, he listens and helps him when Steve struggles.

Bucky is also the one to suggest they create a sign language of their own. just simple daily vocabulary like 'food', 'movies', 'home'. they add 'punk/jerk' and 'sorry' to their vocabulary after a short while.

and the thing is, losing Bucky is more than just missing a person in his life, it's that the most basic act of talking - not even about him - just talking, in his own native language, is a constant reminder of this loss. they don't have only their own sign language. in a way, English is their language too. losing Bucky is losing the languages, the tool of communication and connecting with other people and the world around him.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #stevebucky #steve my sweet irish baby #tired: Steve can't dance #wired: Captain America didn't used to speak English #because you know what? he's a child of irish immigrants #English didn't get popular in Ireland until around 70s and 80s #no way Sarah spoke English well

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mynqzo · 1 year ago

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Why do you like vampires specifically, what do you like of them?

the sucking and fucking

#ask #also many several deep complex reasons #and if i were to divulge into them i would actually never shut up #its the. vampyrisim being a metaphore for otherness. for queerness #them being originally created (in europe at least) to be cruel representations of jewish people - immigrants and eastern europeans - and #these people reclaiming them. the reclamation of vampires to be the 'others' the ones that are ostracized by society #and people finding solidarity in that. vampires are queer their entire mythology is inherently queer as well so its beautiful in its own wa #vampires were transformed from cruel caricatures with intent to portray the fears of xenophobic english men to #complex deeply thought-out characters that embrace their differences from 'humanity' and live in their true identity #remember when i said “i cant delve into this otherwise i wont stop talking” yeah sorry it happened anyway

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twolovelyberries · 5 months ago

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three clicks and i’m home (MAWS/i know the end)

#JOR EL DOESNT SPEAK ENGLISH OUGHHHHHHHHHHHHH IM CLAWING AT THE WALLS #ITS ABOUT. A HOME HE CAN NEVER GO BACK TO AND A CULTURE HE WILL NEVER KNOW.#my adventures with superman shooting a child of immigrants psychic beam at me #my adventures with superman #clark kent #this is shamelessly colorpicked from batman/superman worlds finest btw. juicy :)#participating in dc fandom is like. no i don’t go here but also i was born here and grew up here and will die here #i know the end #jor el #superman #dc #comic #my art #my art 2024

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gregor-samsung · 9 months ago

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English Vinglish (Gauri Shinde - 2012)

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quartermoonconvergence · 21 days ago

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since i lowk dgaf abt what people in this fandom think of me for having basic media literacy and logical reasoning atp

i think quite a few of you pretend to be better people by making max's parents "good people" so you can fight off against early fandom's potrayal of white saviour esque dadvid [which isnt even the dynamic in canon, but i digress] but because people doing this were drawing an eye during literature class they just fight racism with more racism.

because tell me why i have seen "max's parents are poor people who cannot speak english" more than once. Why is it so impossible for people to see that max is a neglected child who acts out because he is neglected at home and his parents dont care about him.

Why do you need the writers and artists to establish something which is basically screamed at you by the narrative?

Literally why are you all insanely dense about a child acting mean to others due to the fact that they are neglected at home.

Like just say it dude is it because max is an indian immigrant child who doesnt act like a soft pure victim like you all want him to act like and thus just casual denial of max's canonical neglect is justified. I literally hate some of you people

#camp camp #camp camp discourse #havent even mentioned how as an indian person it is insanely dehumanising that people still think indian immigrants dont know how to speak #english something that is taught to several indians #and especially for an immigrant family in america for a camp like camp campbell which is stated to be expensive #like every context clue basically yells at you these people are rich and do not care for their child. Max is a victim of neglect #denying this is being at this point intentionally obtuse and honestly headcanoning shit like this is honestly actually racist #not even gonna add character tags. go figure #im just sick of people pretending to be anti racism and all this but then make up shit like this like it is hurtful. as a victim of abuse #and as an indian . it hurts dude #you are hurting more people than helping. hope this helps

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meraarts · 1 year ago

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One advantage of having native English speaker friends is that they think being bilingual is super impressive. Mention you’re busy learning your *gasp* third language and they go wild

#then you meet immigrants who speak their native language plus Dutch plus English #and maybe even French or German #and reality comes crashing back down #langblr #frenchblr #language learning

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theoutcastrogue · 11 months ago

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The Port & the City

Buenos Aires, photo by lasgalletas (Creative Commons CC BY-NC 2.0)

Introduction

City of witches and of asphalt, port with no exit to the sea! — La Portuaria, from the port of Buenos Aires

Some cities have a port, and some port cities have a port culture. That's how I call it, anyway. It's a very special thing. It's created by the furious economic activity that concentrates around the coming and going of ships, cargo, and people. A port needs to cater to all of that, the ships and the cargo, the shipowner and the dockworker, the captain and the deckhand, the tourist and the sailor and the fisherman. And that transforms the entire city.

Where a port city meets the sea, there's shipping companies, travel agencies, imports/exports, truck companies, posh hotels, shitty hotels, fancy bars, seedy bars, brothels, strip clubs, theatres, restaurants, casinos, bookshops, tool shops, souvenir shops, fishing supplies, and fresh fish. There's peddlers and businessmen, porters and accountants, all sorts of people, and they all mingle. They have to! The port's there!

Port cities have their own landmarks and geography, with docks, wharfs, piers, depots, gates, shipyards, and people can orient themselves by relation to the water.

New York City, photo by Kari Nousiainen (Creative Commons CC BY-NC 2.0)

Crime

My gold watch and my pocketbook and lady friend were gone And there was I, Jack all alone, stark naked in the room — the port of New York City

Port cities attract furious criminal activity. Firstly and obviously, everything that's smuggled will be smuggled through here, from cocaine to counterfeit handbags to guns to oil. (I mean crude/refined oil, though with the prices we've seen lately, olive oil is equally plausible.) Port authorities, customs, shipowners and workers, all can have a hand in the pie, a little finger or both hands shoulder-deep, depending on how high up the ladder they are.

Second, ports are always full of newcomers, sailors and passengers, and all newcomers are potential marks. Con artists, scammers, and grifters of all sorts can ply their trade here. There's also a lot of shilling for more or less legitimate businesses (come buy this, sir! rent a room here, ma'am! oh but you must have a drink there, buddy!), and peddling less then legitimate goods (may I interest you in a fine watch? Rayban glasses, I have Rayban glasses! 100% genuine!). And then there's good old pickpocketing. Although in most cases, pickpockets are not allowed to operate within the port itself: it's bad for everyone else's business, and unlike cops, "everyone else" can actually enforce that.

And third, there's the entertainment sector: the trifecta of night life, sex work, and gambling, all going hand in hand with the sale and consumption of drugs and booze. Expect the port city to be much more entangled in all that than other cities, and the port itself to attract the bulk of it, or the worst of it. Things that are theoretically illegal might be tolerated here, things that are heavily regulated elsehwhere might follow their own rules here, and things that are otherwise unheard of can be found here. What are you into? Step right up but beware: the large print giveth and the small print taketh away.

The upshot of all this is that people in the port's vicinity (not the whole city, though) are more likely to be involved, or at least personally know someone who's involved, in profoundly shady and/or illegal business. And that certainly affects the culture. Breaking the law is more "eh" than "oh my!".

Clydebuilt Museum, photo by Paisley Scotland (Creative Commons CC BY 2.0)

Politics

All my life I've lived beside the waters that they call the Clyde I build the ships and watch them glide down the Broomielaw, sir Trudge to work in sleet and rain, labour for another's gain know yer place and don't complain, that's the rich man's law, sir — Alistair Hulett, from the shipyards of Glasgow

A port displays furious political activity. Unions are strong here, because labour is not only working, it's working hard, manually, in the same spaces (so they can talk about it!), and facing the same dangers to life and limb. Working on the docks, handling cargo containers, and ship-building and maintenance are very hazardous jobs (scrapping even more so, I'd say dramatically so), and under these conditions, it's easier to spot the enemy. Not automatic though. Port cities are traditionally, but not unconditionally, strongholds of the left.

Today, it's extremely important for the left to take the ports, because if it doesn't the fascists will. The workforce here has significant ethnic diversity, coming both from inland (immigrants and local minorities) and from the sea (sailors who go around the world sometimes end up working in random ports). So basically, this either goes "proletarians of the world unite" or "foreigners are stealing our jobs", no middle ground.

By the way, if all your knowledge about port unions comes from The Wire, or worse (for our older readers) from On the Waterfront, please be aware that these are slanted depictions, and you don't actually know anything. [They're not equally slanted, The Wire is nowhere near the other one's level of shameless propaganda, nor so completely divorced from reality. I mean yes, unions can be involved in shady business; so can literally everyone else in the port. But On the Waterfront, without the slightest exaggeration, is to American organised labour what Birth of a Nation is to Black Americans.]

Valparaíso, photo by [o] Rolando Vejar (Creative Commons CC BY-SA 2.0)

Culture

Amo el amor de los marineros que besan y se van. Dejan una promesa. No vuelven nunca más. — Pablo Neruda, from the port of Valparaíso

The port's culture seeps through the rest of the city. This is where sailor lore gets created and spread, and a port by definition loves travel and the ocean. Many non-sailors fall for it hook, line and sinker, and write poems and sing songs and their heart swells at the mere thought of sailing. But their fascination is often rose-tinted, whereas people who make a living from the sea typically have a love/hate relationship with it.

Maiden voyages are important occasions in shipbulding ports. A ship's last voyage, before it goes to scrap, is also memorable. If the ship regularly docks there, it will be the talk of the town, and if it's a passenger ship [this assumes a geography with regular passenger runs], a whole mess of people will be sharing stories and memories, waving it farewell, shouting, applauding, crying a little. It can get very emotional.

There's also a silly sort of localism/professional pride going on, where even the port's accountants, who've never set foot below decks IF they've actually boarded a ship, feel like they're a different species of accountant, inexplicably tougher and saltier than their more, er, inland colleagues. No matter who you are and what you do, it's badge of honour to say you're from and/or work at the port, like you're automatically endowed with tenacity and street smarts. It doesn't make sense, but there you have it.

Rotterdam, photo by MaxAmy Photography (Creative Commons CC BY-ND 2.0)

Desire

In the port of Amsterdam there's a sailor who dies Full of beer, full of cries, in a drunken town fight In the port of Amsterdam there's a sailor who's born On a hot muggy morn by the dawn's early light — Jacques Brel (in David Bowie's adaptation), from the port of Amsterdam

A port is filthy, grubby, and hopelessly romantic. If it faces somewhat west, it's on fire every sunset. Silhouettes of gigantic cranes are framed by red clouds like alien tripods. The sun sinks into the ocean, and tell me, in the whole wide earth, is there a sweeter sight? Ships approach like sea beasts, and dock in their usual place like old friends.

A port carries the whiff of grease and petrol, the cool sea breeze, and the incessant sounds of waves and engines and – most of all – people. A port IS people, passing. And tell me, in the whole wide world, is there anything more exciting and heartwrenching than people passing? A port city can fill you with wanderlust and feel like a prison, or a warm welcome, or a devastating farewell.

And if you point a gun to my head and force me to describe a port in a single word, I'll have to say: desire.

Love me, leave me, hold me tight, walk away, forget. Look at how I broke inside, and how the sea has swelled! It's pouring out a riot of colours, scents, and lights, and in the city's gutter it's building paradise. — Ξύλινα Σπαθιά, from the port of Thessaloniki