#this and and ‘workplace assault’ that

[bonyassfish]

It’s not really possible to exist as a trans person without experiencing some level of discrimination and oppression, or even outright violence. Most trans people I know, self-included, have experienced discrimination in the workplace, loss of friendships, sexual assault, familial rejection, street harassment, etc

All of us trans people are, for the most part, living with the daily trauma of existing in a world that fundamentally does not want us to survive. Our politicians, religious leaders, and celebrities make careers out of demonizing us, mocking us, harassing us, and attempting to legislate us so we either die, kill ourselves, or agree to be forcibly detransitioned

We’re all angry. We’re all hurt. And most of us don’t feel like we can fight against our true enemies because they’re so powerful. So we instead turn on each other. I’ve seen it time and again in queer discourse, especially here on tumblr. We endlessly debate over the existence of particular terms and theory, play oppression Olympics, and do it all in a way that ensures that only the most privileged members of our community (no enbies, no intersex folks, no disabled people, no poc) get to have their say

We’ve got to resist that impulse as much as we can. We’ve got to remember that we are siblings in arms, that we can and have and should be caring for each other and upholding each other, not arguing online.

The best way to remedy this, imo, is to try and find trans groups irl to connect with. The more time you spend with the trans people in your community, the more you’ll realize that most online discourse is nonsense. So I’ll hold my friend’s hand during her bottom surgery consult, give away my old dresses in exchange for “men’s” clothes, comfort my friend as their parents reject them, cook dinner and send funny cat videos and remind all my friends, here and in real life, how beautiful and strong and powerful we all are, how the transsexual menace grows stronger by the day, and one day, we can all hold hands on the down with cis bus

calling transfems baeddels and transmascs transandrodorks/bros are both bad in their own ways and these two statements must coexist in transfeminism and trans liberation.

[g4rvez-r3id]

Protector

Boyfriend!Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: You and Spencer have been together a few months and he’s beginning to notice how often you keep your guard up and he converses with you about his concerns and so you tell him why you act the way you do.

Category: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: established relationship, spencer being a concerned bf, mentions of past physical assault, reader has ✨trauma✨, crying, kissing, mention of past trauma, dark humor (?), spencer lowkey doesn’t get dark humor, it’s cutesy towards the end, lowkey projected here sorry y’all

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! so i wanted to write another personal one-shot, i wanted to share my own personal experience on here so please tread this lightly :) i hope y’all like this one because this one did truly come from the heart. <3

He noticed it after leaving Rossi’s mansion one night. Spencer’s team had invited you out to dinner. You’d only been dating just a few months but they’d heard all about you from your dear old, doting boyfriend and were eager to meet you.

His colleague, author David Rossi had told your boyfriend to invite you to dinner over in his big mansion. You’d almost said no, that maybe it was too soon but Spencer encouraged you and well, he was good at doing that.

He’d met you at your workplace, a bookstore no less. He’d been looking for a copy of Slaugherhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. when he’d spotted you in your natural habitat, putting more books on the shelves, dressed in an outfit you’d been comfortable in topped with converse and he was hooked.

He started coming up with excuses, just to see you and even had the courage to talk with you about where to find certain despite his excellent memory but you didn’t need to know about that, yet.

Eventually, you’d figured him out and decided to ask him out on a date to put an end to his misery.

And since then, you’d been going steady for just a few months. And it was an understatement to say that these had been the happiest few months of both of your lives.

However, there were still things you needed to figure out about each other.

Like, when it came to Spencer’s job, you knew to be supportive and realize that you weren’t the only person in the world that needed Spencer Reid. Or that you loved the winter season despite not being a big fan of Christmas.

But this was something new and something he wasn’t sure if he should be concerned about. When you left Rossi’s mansion that night with Spencer, arm in arm with him, you held your breath and kept looking around in the streetlights. He noticed it on the way into Rossi’s place as well. Spencer had parked a little far than intended but assured it wasn’t too far but you seemed to have another thing on your mind.

Eventually, Spencer brushed it off and chalked it up to you being anxious to meeting Spencer’s team.

But then it happened again. You’d both gone to the grocery store at eight o’clock, wanting to get snacks for the sleepover you’d wanted with him after a long hard week of work on both ends.

And the whole time you’d been shopping with Spencer, you’d been looking at the other customers and even tensed up on the way out at an older man sitting on a bench nearby with a grumpy look etched on his face. Spencer had also noticed how you clutched your taser in your hand until you both got to the car that night.

He’d asked you if you were okay but you gave him a small smile and assured to him — “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I’m just not used to going anywhere at night.”

And he’d had his answer. You didn’t like going anywhere at night. It was as simple as that.

But just to be sure it was nothing more, he began to secretly study you. And this was where he started to get concerned.

He began to notice how you often clutched his arm tightly while you two walked in the park and were by yourselves. He also noticed how you took your taser everywhere you went. And how you constantly looked over your shoulder, even if you were in a group of people. He also noticed how you never strayed far, keeping close to a big group and never went alone anywhere — unless it was work and even then, you took your taser with you.

Spencer even decided to ask Morgan to see if there was anything he could give him advice on and even Morgan didn’t know how to respond to that. “To be honest, I’ve never dealt with anything like that. The best thing you should do is just talk to her. See what’s up.”

So, Spencer waited. He waited until it happened again. And it did, you’d met up with him after work since you were going to his place tonight and you surprised him by going to the bureau — since Penelope had wanted to see you and who are you to deny the sweetest woman in the goddamn world?

He’d led you both back to the parking garage. And he noticed how even though the parking garage was empty, you still kept your guard up and kept looking over your shoulder.

So, as he drove back to his place in your car — he told you he was driving, no questions asked — he struggled with how to begin the conversation. You could tell something was up by the way he kept staring at you in the car. But he didn’t say a word.

And then, you both arrived back to his apartment and he still couldn’t say anything to you. I mean, he was talking to you but there was something behind his eyes that was holding something back.

It wasn’t until you both sat down on his couch, watching a movie and catching him stare at you every few minutes that you paused the movie and finally asked him what’s wrong.

Spencer crinkles his brows together, “What? Noth-Nothing’s wrong.” He tells.

“You’ve been staring at me since we left your workplace. And normally, I appreciate your gaze but right now, it’s freaking me out.” You explain and Spencer looks down, he never really did have a good poker face and he’d been known to slip up quite a few times. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

Spencer opens his mouth but you rake your fingers through his chocolate locks and all rational thought seems to go out the window. But he knows that you guys need to have this conversation since you’ve confronted him on it now.

“Are you… okay?” Spencer starts subtly, hoping on this being a way to start the conversation about your recent behavior he’s noticed.

“I am great, Spencer. Are you okay?” You ask with a small smile. A smile he loves seeing on your face. A smile he appreciates and wants to see everyday. A smile he envisions seeing every night before he goes to bed. He nods, “I’m okay. It’s just…”

Spencer sighs and maybe it’s just time to rip off the bandaid. It’s time that you two need to talk about this like adults. Because this has gone on for too long and he’s starting to become worried.

“You’ve been acting a little… squirrelly lately. And I can’t help but notice that… every time we go somewhere at night, you’re more…” Guarded? Nervous? “On edge,” He chooses. “And you hold onto me a lot when we’re both out and— not-not that I’m complaining about that, I love when you do that but… I’m just starting to grow a little concerned because— I like you a lot. And I just want you to feel like you can talk to me if something is bothering you.”

You look at Spencer and you can tell he’s genuinely concerned and really does care about you. You’re kind of flattered that he’s noticed a lot about your behavior, despite it being a little troubling. You know it can be to other people. You’d avoided having this conversation with him, not wanting to burden him with it like other people have claimed that you have in the past. The people that had you’re no longer friends with anymore.

You sigh and you know that maybe it is best to talk to him about it. Spencer had never been one to judge and you knew that he would never ever say anything negative about your fears — however, the fear that he’d think you were overreacting was scary to face. Especially when Spencer was such a logical person already. But he wanted to know and maybe it’s best to speak out your truth.

“Okay, okay, okay,” You sit up a bit and he does the same. “But please do not say I’m overreacting or being overdramatic because I’ve dealt with that too many times already and I can’t handle it from you either.” You find yourself telling him and he shakes his head assuringly, “I’d never think that.”

You take a deep breath and look at him and all you can see on his face is adoration and concern and hopefulness. “Okay, uh…” Where do you start? “When I was sixteen, I… went to this Halloween party. And… it was my first party so I was excited. I went with a few friends and… only one of us knew how to drive at the time, so they went to go drop another one of our friends off because of her curfew and was going to come back.”

“Well, while she was gone, the party got raided by cops and a lot of people left. It was just me and this one friend standing on the sidewalk waiting for our friend to come back. But while we were waiting…” You pause, the memories coming back like a floodgate and you close your eyes. It was not a happy time in your life and you blocked it out of your memory for good reason.

Spencer could see you getting worked up about it and he puts his hand on your thigh, grounding you in a way you can’t explain. “You don’t have to do this or explain it to me if you don’t want to.” You shake your head, “No, you should know.”

Spencer almost pulls his hand away but you hold him there and he lets you, knowing that maybe you need to physical touch right now.

“We were waiting and this car… stopped right in the middle of the road and three people came out of the car, a girl and a couple of guys and they were all wearing these clown masks and… they tried to take our stuff. I thought it was just some joke so I just told my friend to ignore them and walk away but…” You pause once more and Spencer waits patiently for your sentence.

“The girl punched me. Hit me right in the nose.” Spencer winces at this, hating to imagine your pain in that moment. And he almost doesn’t want to hear the rest of the story. “Luckily, I didn’t go down. I, uh, almost tried to hit her, actually. But I didn’t know what she had, a knife, a gun… so I told my friend to run. And we both ran. That was the fastest I probably ever ran in my life. And there were these people nearby that heard us yelling and they helped us. All I remember is… my devil costume and… my nose bleeding all over my outfit. I don’t think I ever wore that skirt again.” Spencer’s heart physically hurts from that sentence alone.

“For a minute there, I felt weak. And… scared. I didn’t go anywhere alone for a while and it was bad. That friend ended up telling everyone what happened when I wanted to keep it quiet.” Spencer knows that your fierce nature never goes unnoticed by him. You were so tough, so free-willed. When you had issues with customers, they were often dealt with by your attitude and to put it lightly, you were a badass. To hear that you were vulnerable at one point made him sad because that wasn’t who he knew you as and he hated that someone made you feel weak.

“Did anyone ever find those people that did that to you?” Spencer asks, his tone calm and steady. You shake your head, “I told my parents and we filed a police report but… no one ever caught ‘em. Not to my knowledge anyway.” You inform.

“But I’ve gotten better with it, but I still keep my guard up. I hate that I have to look over my shoulder every time I’m out of the house, I hate that I have to take my taser everywhere I go, I hate dealing with this. But it’s my everyday life.” You tell and Spencer looks from the ground to you. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

“I just… didn’t want to be a burden on you,” You sigh. “And I felt like I didn’t need to say anything because most people don’t get it. Some actually laugh because of how I phrase it.”

“How you phrase it?” Spencer asks, clearly confused because what’s so funny about someone attempting a mugging on somebody? “I always say… I almost got mugged by a few clowns.” You find yourself sheepishly laughing but Spencer, however, doesn’t think it’s funny. “I just kinda started making a joke of it. I figure it’s the one thing I can do to deal with it. Dark humor, I guess.”

“I don’t think it’s funny,” Spencer said. “Something worse could’ve happened to you. It’s already bad enough you got punched in the face.” He explained.

“It was a really long time ago, Spencer. I’m okay, now.” You remind him and he takes a sharp sigh, “I know. I just hate the fact that you went through that. That everyone makes a joke of it, that no one else seems to care about the fact that you got hurt when I care so much about that because you deserved better than how you got treated.”

You take a deep breath and a weight is off of your shoulders. Part of you is glad you shared that with Spencer finally but another part of you is scared to be transparent with him about your fears. But the way he’s reacting sets all of those fears aside. He was the person you needed when you were sixteen and suddenly, you want to turn back time and tell your teenage self that everything is gonna be just fine.

“You’re such a sweet and good person,” Spencer takes his hands to your face, holding you lovingly and close. “I don’t understand why someone would want to hurt someone as sweet as you.” He mutters to you.

Suddenly, you fall forward, holding him tightly in a hug and he accepts the hug rather quickly holding you. He feels as your dig your face deep and droplets on his neck. Are you crying?

He pulls back and looks at you face, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. “I’m—I’m sorry,” You shake your head. “I don’t know why I’m crying…” Spencer gives you a soft look. “Sharing a truth, especially a difficult one, can make you feel vulnerable and exposed, leading to tears. It’s perfectly normal.” Spencer reminds you and you sniffle at this.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” Spencer tells. “I know that wasn’t easy.” You nod, “You deserved to know. I know I’m not the easiest person to deal with but—” He interrupts you with a chaste kiss on your lips. He’s gentle and loving, in every way, shape and form. “You are very easy to love. Don’t you dare think otherwise.”

Spencer holds you close that night. You continued watching your movie and had fallen asleep on his shoulder and he kept his arm around protectively. He watched you as you slept, vowing to never let anything like what happened to you at sixteen, never happen to you again so long as he could help it. He’d protect you until the day he died. He’d take a bullet for you, catch a grenade for you, he’d sacrifice never speaking again if it meant saving you. He’d never let anyone hurt you or even dare to touch you.

And he’d wished to take your fears, your guard and your trauma away just to see you feel happy and carefree. He hates that it’s all so normalized with you because of what you went through. And he swears to make you feel as safe as you need to be while you’re out. He’ll start going to stores at night by himself, he’ll keep on being your knight in shining armor, he’ll keep being the protector you need him to be.

“I love you, Y/n,” He whispers, saying the words he’d dare not say until he was ready to say them to you. “And I will always protect you.”

[horrorknife]

i keep seeing people unsure of how to interpret polle and the polle-anya relationship and it’s really pretty simple!

polle is the face to pony express. he’s a capitalistic figure—jimmy makes the comment about being “sexually excited at the sight of cartoon horses” because a) it’s technically workplace harassment and foreshadowing of him raping anya, b) it’s something he says because he knows the psych evals never get looked at, and c) polle’s face is mocking him at literally every corner on the tulpar. it’s pretty clear that working for pony express in any position is a shit job.

anya and the fetus are represented by a pony or by polle/polle amalgams. this has less to do with the widespread idea that jimmy doesn’t see anya as a person and more to do with the fact that he’s hiding behind his guilt and shame because it’s something he can’t make up an excuse for, as well as the fact that the entire situation is born of capitalism. the baby itself is a product of capitalism. if jimmy were not aboard the tulpar and curly hadn’t broken the news about them being fired so early, the assault and pregnancy could have been avoided.

jimmy wholly blames the rape on the loss of his job—anya is the only time in his hallucinations that a character is not represented with their own face. he feels EXTREMELY guilty about daisuke, and this is apparent when jim starts hallucinating the tombstones and the flowers and even daisuke himself. he’s open with himself about this because he believes daisuke’s death can be pinned on swansea instead of himself (even though he is the one truly responsible for it). with anya, jimmy can’t redirect blame. so it’s easier to overwrite her face and presence as the thing he thinks he can blame All Of This On. and to a point, that’s true—capitalism is the antagonist of mouthwashing—but not to the point jimmy wants to believe. he has to take responsibility for the things he did, trapped like a wild animal or no, and he can’t do it even up to the end.

anya is markedly NOT represented by polle in his birthday party hallucination—she’s cheering him on and calling him “our captain”. it’s clear that he valued her (and everyone else’s!) opinion of him and he’s so ashamed to have skewed that. it’s also him living his dream of having what curly has. the reason they’re all kind to him in that scene is because he really does, in the moment, think that what he’s doing/about to do is right.

it also makes sense that he’d break the polle statue; it’s motion activated and it talks, and it’s basically like having a big, speaking, motion activated statue of ronald mcdonald in the mcdonald’s break room. polle is inescapable, he’s everywhere, and jimmy fucking hates what he stands for. he blames everything on everyone else, but most of all, he’s content to put every ounce of blame onto pony express. (this also impacts the way he treats anya—pony express is cutting corners by hiring an unqualified nurse. i don’t agree w how he talks to her, obviously, but i can understand the frustration of not wanting to be treated by someone with no actual certification.) it’s why mouthwashing is so good, it’s why jimmy’s character is so good. mouthwashing is a game about how capitalism affects your humanity!!!! how you can be driven to do crazy things in crazy situations!!!

[mediabrainrot]

when those rumors about Mia Goth came out about her kicking an extra in the head on the set of Maxxxine and we were joking that we were still gonna see it (sorry king) and my friend said “me not seeing the movie isn’t gonna unkick you in the head” and well. every time i think about why Thomas Gibson got kicked off the show im like. can’t he just come back if he promises to be nice. him not being in the show isn’t gonna. well

[die-tenebris]

Holy fuck I'm so tired of this. (I mean really I just need to get off reddit but) trans men are a marginalized group who face oppression and violence on the basis of their identity. Full stop. If you dismiss or belittle this fact you are contributing to that oppression. None of us living a marginalized life are sitting on an hierarchy of how easy or difficult our lives are.

[bemtevis]

i would fully marry franziska von karma if I could

[thefirstvessel]

I used to have a co-worker that was notorious for immediately disparaging any opinion that was less than outright bigotry as filthy liberal talk and I still take pride in the one time he called me a liberal and I was like excuse me I'm not that conservative

Dude had no idea how to react to the concept that what he considered extreme leftist bs I considered conservative centrist bs

[hezekiahwakely]

Tumblr: art between Colin and Sam is adorable, their miscommunication is cute, they're basically already jumping each other

Me, looking at the end of episode 7: well now.... you're not wrong....

[jackie-and-gecko]

Slightly more serious post than usual:

Please keep your local library staff dear to your hearts because boy howdy, they put up with so much strange shit every day. Inner city libraries are particularly crazy, violence is not uncommon, and abuse is ridiculously regular.

I had lots of antisocial behaviour at my library today (UK based), mostly by white teenage boys, I also got assaulted (minor assault but still). We’re a pretty big main city library, we can’t afford security, and we’re often short staffed.

Only ONE library member stood up for us. Out of about 60 people on the top floor where the problems were, an aging, white, academic man was the only person to assist in calling out the behaviour taking place. Nobody in the shopping centre outside said anything when the trouble moved out the doors. Nobody going in or out of the library said anything as my colleague, myself, and the one shopping centre security guard got numerous, horrible curse words and homophobic slurs thrown at us. Nobody said anything when one of the nasty little boys laid hands on me. And nobody checked on me afterwards, except for that one library member and the other staff/security guy.

Guys, you live in a community, I really can’t stress this enough. Your library is YOURS. It’s your privilege, it’s your right to information, and it’s YOUR responsibility to help take care of it. That includes the staff and your fellow library goers. I’m sure most folk would leap to the defence of a librarian or retail worker who was being harassed, but today I got absolutely zip from a huge number of potential allies.

Public libraries are moving stories, grand stage plays, with different players and parts every single day. They succeed or fail depending on how well the fluid players work with the permanent actors (library staff), but more importantly how well they work with each other. We are all responsible for safety and kindness in our communities. Sure, I choose to be paid minimum wage and go to my job. I choose to work in an environment with volatile, vulnerable people every day. I choose, despite having many qualifications that would net me higher paying private jobs, to be a public servant. But I don’t deserve or choose to be treated like garbage, and I really expect better from my fellow humans.

Nobody will see this but I need to vent and there’s a library tag so 🙃

[pynkhues]

I'm so glad your friends are both okay. That's so horrible.

Thanks, anon. It was about a decade ago (although the incidents happened in different years), so time's marched on. They're both doing well now.

[whatahypnoticharmony]

Hi, this is aspen, the owner of this account. This is a massive divergence from my usual content and is very much full of sensitive content so tw for sexual harassment, workplace harassment, assault, and general misconduct.

On Saturday, 20th January 2024, I was assaulted by one of my coworkers.

I was closing the kitchen when he came up to me and mentioned how I wasn't allowed to call in sick again (I had woken up with a bad headache and didn't make my previous shift). He kept touching my hair and calling me various pet names, and as uncomfortable as this made me, it was normal for him.

Things eventually escalated with him grabbing my face and, for a second, grabbing my throat. I remember feeling shocked, I didn't even have time to feel scared before his hands were off me. I can't remember much after that.

With the way the kitchen is laid out, it looks more like a hallway than a room and unless you're physically in the kitchen you won't be able to see anything going on, meaning he probably wouldn't have done it had we not been remotely alone.

This account of events is mostly to help me figure out my thought process but partially to spread awareness for a topic that is often overlooked amongst other stories of sexual assault. Workplace harassment is real and a serious problem, but we can minimise said problem by spreading awareness and raising public knowledge.

It shouldn't have happened to me, it shouldn't happen to you, it shouldn't happen to anyone.

[beeapocalypse]

the scene where jon and basira do improvised surgery on melanie while she is asleep. insert that image of the dog sitting in a chair looking mortified

[jinxed-dreams]

My mum just showed me several "let's get this bread I guess" memes and asked wtf it means. I explained but apparently gen x has a difficult time understanding why the younger generations are so depressed because we have to go to work

[xtrablak674]

Betrayed

[Originally published in Fashion Fag Magazine, Volume 3, Issue 3, Number 8, September 1996, has been lightly edited for clarity]

Fri 17 May 1996 Daily Assistant Company Manager Report #9

The show was nearly over, and on headset I could over hear Adam and Jim talking about a rehearsal for tomorrow. Adam's last words before calling his next cue, were "Well make sure we tell Trevor" Everyone for some reason has this feeling to always call on me to get things done. Norman had told me before he left that, that is a good thing and I should not feel abused. And I don't, at least not in that respect.

So on the bus back to the hotel, our bus ritual began, I got on the mike and made the announcements that I needed to make, to which I actually had none this evening to great cheers from the company. So I handed the mike over to Adam, who announced tomorrows schedule. And I followed up and said that, I would post the bus schedule. in the usual spot next to the touring people schedule by the elevator.

I stop at the front desk and check for messages, none. I get to my room to find a note stuffed in the door scribbled on a piece of hotel stationary. That says,

"Trevor- Please do not post B&B schedule in the hotel lobby. Please discuss this with me tomorrow at the production office I'll be in by 10:00 am -Jul Fri 5/17"

OK, this presented a dilemma, everyone was just told that by midnight there would be a schedule posted in the regular spot. Let's call Julie, for recommendations, cause I don't know where she's disappeared to after the show. Shit, phone's busy, Norman's words of wisdom about reliability echoed through my head, and I began to write out the schedule to post.

I had remembered from a training class when we were talking about relationships, and how in them, unmet expectations lead to anger and frustration, this schedule was expected from me, from the company and staff et. al, Frustration and anxiety also set in, when one does not know whats going on, and I had did my best to alleviate this energy in the company by trying to let them know what's going on to the best of my ability.

I tried Julie again, Busy. So I went downstairs and told stage management about the note and they said the posted schedule was very necessary. I agreed, and posted it. Then I walked Ms. Linda downstairs to get something to eat, I went back to the lobby phone to call Julie. Finally, 'Hi Julie, this is Trevor, how are you?

I explained to her that the company was expecting the schedule to be posted. Her voice raised and she started to yell, who told them that a schedule would be posted in the lobby? I calmly said that I did.

She began to go off about how we all could be robbed because everyone in the hotel would know when we were not in. and why weren't we using the PA system at theatre. I didn't want to provoke her again but the schedule didn't fully come together until after the show and half the dancers were already boarding the bus, I said,

"Julie, please do not yell at me."

Now my understanding was that there was a problem with the wire of money, so we couldn't get paid today, so Julie was more than likely stressing. But that doesn't allow the abusive yelling and condescending tone that I was getting from Julie. I deserve the equal respect for my knowledge and abilities that I give her and everyone.

Julie was a mother-figure for me of sorts, and as a child I was physically and verbally abused and the emotional scars were triggered when someone yells at me. So I always try my hardest to not provoke anyone to yell at me.

I hung up the phone and went to Julie's room. I've been more than patient with her and tried to understand her and be supportive of her needs to the best of my ability, my first question to her this morning was How are you today Julie?, which every one knows I ask with a sincerity that usually makes you respond honestly. She sort of mumbled a response.

At her door I could hear her still yelling at me, and she was screaming to her boyfriend that, 'He hung up on me he hung up on me'. I was very upset by this point, I don't know how many times I tried to help this woman and try to diffuse the very strong negative energy the company had towards her, but she didn't help any, making promises then not following through with them. No one to my knowledge could say the same of me.

Here I was at her door ready to do battle for my respect, of which she was giving me none by debasing me like a child and yelling at me like an incompetent.

"Julie if have anything further to discuss with me, I'm right outside your door."

There was more yelling, I stepped back from the door and it swung open and her boyfriend stood there and said,

"I think you need to leave."

I said, "I'm sorry but I need to talk to Julie, we need to clear the air."

"I think you need to leave, now." And he took a stance as if he was going to hit me. And I called his glove dropping.

"Are you going to remove me?"

I was furious, the last time a scenario played out like this was the husband of a producer, white man attempting to assault me during the intermission of a show. Why is it that white men love to try my patience? They probably see in my eyes that I don't like them, because most of them are lying, stealing, cheating, misogynistic, homophobic, racist assholes, excuse my French.

And there was nigger written all over his face. You uppity, smart mouthy darky get in your place and respect this frail, innocent, white woman your superior. And the door slammed in my face.

I stepped back took a deep breath, and said,

"Now Julie are we ready to be an adult and come out and talk about this like reasonable people?" My tone very even, not raising my voice a hair.

I turned to walk away and I saw one of the dancers who asked me if I was alright. I didn't have time to respond because I swung around to see Julie's door opening and Julie stepping out.

"You should be glad my boyfriend is not letting me near you."

"What does that mean? Is that a threat of physical harm to me Julie?"

"You should be glad my boyfriend is not letting me near you. We will talk about this in the morning."

Knowing that most of her promises never came true.

"Will we?"

"Trevor, I'm sick and tired of your attitude and your disobeying my orders, I'm your boss you work for me damnit, and I am tired of you and your fucking own agenda, whose side are you on? The companies or management?"

She had to go there, a white heterosexual, middle-class woman, trying to make her house-nigger choose between, the big house and the fields. Choose between white or Black, choose between gay or straight, choose Black or gay, CHOOSE!

"Julie there are no sides here, no wrong or right, if you are not satisfied with my work then you can send me home."

"Well I don't think you should go to the theatre until we settle this on Monday with Norman, I am your boss and that is a direct order."

"I'm sorry Julie, I'm not going to break my contract and shirk my responsibilities, I will continue to take care of Bunny and Olivette and the Divas as per my contract until the matter is resolved."

Another one of the dancers appeared,

"Hey guys, its really late, can we take this in doors the whole floor can hear."

Julie was still screaming at this point I just turned around and looked calmly at the dancer, and turned back to Julie who was smoking like a chimney, figuratively and literally.

"We will talk about this shit in the morning at the office."

"Are you still going to be grumpy, Julie? Because I'd rather wait until you're in a better mood."

"We'll talk in the morning damn it."

SLAM.

I took another deep breath and went downstairs to look for Francois to tell him what happened. I stopped to call Gayle and let her know what happened. And then I saw Francois walking by and waved him over. At exactly the same time Julie appeared with her boyfriend, and I went back to the phone, while Julie had a few words with Francois and then stepped out into the cool night air with her boyfriend trailing. I then proceeded to call the dancer who had asked me if everything was alright and told the dancer things were cool and not to worry. I grabbed Francois and told him again that I need to speak with him.

So me and Francois later joined by Adam talked about what had happened. And Francois told me that just yesterday Julie was praising my work as she had been doing for weeks. Once again mixed signals. I'm a very literal person. If you say something to me. I'm going to keep that in the equation until you tell me to remove it.

Julie's mixed signals are very confusing.

"Don't spend money on taxis," then "Why didn't you just put her in a cab?"

My behavior is very consistent. I try my best to keep her appraised of all my moves, but she tends to shrug me off for something that is more important. In looking at styles, I prefer Norman's, he has a very calming energy about him and the patience to listen to the whole story to understand the different angles. A quality some day I hope to master. And he has never promised something that he has not come through with. He also doesn't let loose ends go unattended. Norman realizes that he's not an expert and will relent to somebody else who he thinks may know better, which is a very noble quality. I really miss Norman.

You know I really feel like a child who is being abused by one parent, and I'm crying for help to the other parent, but he doesn't believe me. Does this make the non-abusive parent not responsible?

Afterwords: Wow, there's a lot going on here. You know I didn't recall that Julie had actually threatened to assault me. And just like a whyte woman twisted the actual facts of the incident to make herself look above and beyond reproach. But even at such a young age I fortified myself by immediately circling the wagons and making sure I touched base with the rest of the production staff informing them of the incident. I even followed up with the dancer who was a clear witness to the altercation.

There is one thing I have to wonder about myself then and even now, if I am a little bit on the spectrum. Because after Julie said we would speak in the morning, I should have remained silent. But I pointed out the obvious, she had been extremely unreliable in the things she said, so, would we? Now as a very grown person now, I am tickled by my brazen-ness but I could see how that just added gasoline to a four alarm fire.

I am also amazed that I suggested the paramount solution to Julie, if you're not happy with my work then send me home. Even in this context I realized that Ms. Crosby and me working together wasn't a tenable situation anymore. No matter what I did at that point nothing would ever be amenable to her, she was in a very high pressure situation that wouldn't resolve until the company was made whole financially.

This is something that I didn't state plainly in this piece or the other one from this time period, but its very relevant to the mood and disposition of the company. TCA International Productions had stopped paying everyone in the company back home for I think it was like three or four before it was discovered. Let me explain how it went unnoticed for so long. The agreement was that there were two disbursements to everyone in the staff, a per diem to cover expenses abroad and a pay check that was deposited in their accounts back home every pay day.

Due to some unforeseen circumstance, some investor or something had backed out and TCA found themselves financially short. They continued to pay our per diems but stopped paying us back home. What added to this is the fact that they never notified us that this was occurring even though they were fully aware of the situation.

This offense created a lot of anxiety and tensions, because the company no longer trusted management, rightfully so. In essence these whyte folks were fucking with people's livelihoods, student loans, mortgages, rents and other financial responsibilities were at risk when folks thought they were getting paid and weren't.

As I have pointed out, management was all whyte with the exception my tokenism, but I clearly had no real authority. All of the company was Black, the dancers, the Divas, the musicians basically all of the performing talent. There was a record of this in history, Black folks getting on stage and performing for whyte folks managed by other whyte folks and getting literally robbed. It wasn't my fault that I was a student of history to understand the larger implications of this infraction.

When reading this story I think its important to understand that this laced the subtext of everything I was saying. You want us out there every night dancing for our supper and we need to be fine with the fact that you're not actually paying us for our hard work. This is white supremacy at its finest in practice.

I had indeed chosen a side, the side of the people who looked like me and were probably in a similar financial situation as myself. Since no one else in management was looking out for their interest, I made sure that I was. I didn't abide double-talk or the non-follow through on promises made. I was there to hold management accountable and this whyte woman loathed me for it.

If I had the opportunity to go back and do it all again, I wouldn't change a damned thing except maybe I would sue TCA for slander and mismanagement of funds. Albeit this tour didn't have any major impact on my overall career I didn't like for an instance that someone had attempted to malign my reputation for doing my best in a very complicated, tense and frustrating situation.

Most of all I applaud my younger-self for being so totally and completely myself, covering my ass, creating my own records, and understanding when a good situation had gone bad. The thing I can see from this distance is that I was clearly a scape-goat for other things that were going wrong with management and the producers. In my other "bosses" words I was getting praise for weeks from Julie regarding my work, and only when her own work began to falter did I become some prodigal child.

I was betrayed but I overcame because ultimately as Maya Angelou said, folks won't remember what you said, but how you made them feel, and I made everyone on that tour feel seen and heard, and that is a good enough legacy for me.

[Photo by Brown Estate]

Me Interviewing for the job with TCA

[echidnana]

some more thoughts about mouthwashing and how amazing it is. the fact that the protagonist/player characters are jimmy and curly serves to highlight the central message so well. the way anya is pushed to the side, barely treated as a relevant side character despite the fact that her presence is arguably one of the most important elements to the situation. and the way anya's pregnancy is obviously a huge thing to her, probably on her mind 24/7, while jimmy is never shown directly interacting with the fact that she's pregnant in any way. he never acknowledges her pregnancy, always cuts her off before she happens to bring it up. jimmy and anya both knew she was pregnant the whole time after the crash, but because you are playing as jimmy, the fact that she is pregnant is literally never brought up. she mentions being nauseous, not drinking alcohol, and jimmy brushes this all aside in favor of ignoring her. and playing as curly, going around the ship, his role as captain and the man responsible for everything that happens, as well as being jimmy's friend. and when he does find out very clearly about what jimmy has done, about what curly ALLOWED to happen, his first reaction is to go to jimmy and talk. and tell him everything would be ok. that they would figure it out. by playing as jimmy and curly you see exactly how anya's abuse is allowed and her personhood is ignored. aside from anya saying the words "I'm pregnant" to curly, nothing that happened to her is ever directly said. she never even says jimmy is the one who got her pregnant, curly fills in the blanks himself. because the story is told through the eyes of curly and jimmy, and you start out being empathetic towards them just by nature of them being the player characters, so you are able to see firsthand the exact environment these men have created that allowed anya's abuse to occur and be ignored.

[demento-mori]

Man, this pokemon world is fucking brutal