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i-write-shakespeare-not-disney · 8 years ago

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Barrio Slums and More ch. 4

Click Here for Chapter 1

Click Here for Chapter 3

Feedback appreciated– Please reblog!– Let me know if you need translations!

It was quiet. And it was awkward. Lance hated that he felt so awkward. Still, he felt that if he spoke, his voice would tremble as badly as his heart was beating. He cleared his throat nervously and leaned against the door, looking at the houses they passed by and listened to the gentle hum of the engine and the low melody of the radio.

“Why’d your brother sound so upset?” he heard suddenly.

Lance looked over at him and frowned. Keith was looking at the road. “I’m not sure. He’s a jerk sometimes, that’s why I like calling him Bobo.” The corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes flitted over to Lance for a few seconds. “So, what brought on the sudden car ride?” he asked.

He was quiet for a moment. Then, “You know how you talk about being more than just this? About being bigger than Houston slums and whatnot?” Lance nodded, then hummed in agreement when he realized Keith wouldn’t see him. “Are you like… ashamed of your past? Like…. Do you want to be more and go off to a big university to leave it behind? Erase it?”

The question had caught him off guard. He hadn’t expected it. He wasn’t sure what he expected to be asked, but erasing his past? “No,” he murmured. “No I don’t think so. I’m proud of who I am. Of who my family is. Despite the lack of education or resources, they each did something. You know, the restaurant, the shop, and whatnot. They’re still able to throw a kickass party when needed. We’ve worked hard and that’s what our past shows.”

“Then what is it that you want to prove by going away and being ‘more’ like you always say?” he asked. His voice was urgent, like he needed Lance to give him a foolproof answer.

“I-I don’t know. I guess I just don’t want to fit in the stereotype too. I mean, my aunts all work in salons or as waitresses besides Tia Carla who owns the restaurant. My older cousins are off who knows where. My mom has worked all her life cleaning houses, my buela used to work fields in Mexico before coming here and doing being a housemaid. Papo worked in the fields too, and he got here and has the shop. I want to show that the hard work means something. I didn’t have to work fields, so I want to keep improving where we come from. I mean, do you know how frustrating it is when you see television series or movies and any time you see a Hispanic person, they end up being a maid or a gardener or a drug dealer or a cholo or some shit?” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m sick of people thinking they know where my life is going just because I come from stereotypes. But I also don’t look down on my family for making an honest living.”

He was quiet for a while again. Like he was mulling over the response. Lance didn’t expect the ride to go that way. With Keith asking questions and Lance ranting, waiting in silence until Keith spoke again.

“At least you know who you are.”

Lance looked over at him and stayed quiet until he parked at a curb. There was a worn path for bikers and joggers, and it led to a small bayou. Keith shut the engine off and got out. Nervously, Lance did the same.

It was much nicer at night, though still humid. At least there was wind now to relieve the heat. And no sun to sting your skin. Though the mosquitoes made up for it.

Keith leaned against the back of his car and Lance stood beside him, making a small circle in the thin coat of dust that covered the car. “Well, what about you?” he asked softly, the night making his words smaller and quieter.

“I don’t know who I am.” Lance looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “I mean it,” he said. “I was an orphan. I was in foster homes and when I turned 18, I was let out of the system. I stayed out of trouble so it’s not as bad as most kids. Yeah, I had a few shitty foster homes, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. But I know nothing about who I am. I know I’m Asian in some way. It’s in my eyes. But I mean, am I Chinese? Japanese? Vietnamese? A Pacific Islander, like Hunk? I’m just this pasty kid with Asian eyes and a small southern accent that… has no fucking clue where he’s from.” Lance leaned into him, pressing their shoulders together, offering a small, quiet support. “You’re lucky. You know where you’re from. You have some foundation. I have nothing.”

The last three words were said with so much disappointment, emptiness, and defeat, it made Lance hurt for him. He kicked at the ground and looked up at the stars. “You know, one thing I’ve learned really well is that your past doesn’t define you. In your case, lack of a past, I suppose.” Keith looked at him and Lance tore his eyes from the stars in the sky to the ones in his violet eyes. “You get to make your foundation. You get to become someone without everyone else telling you who you should be because of where you’re from. Not to mention, you get to discover and experience so much more while figuring out who you are. You find what calls to you most.”

Keith smiled and looked down for a moment before looking back up. “Optimist, huh?”

“Sometimes.” Keith smiled at him and nodded before climbing onto his car and laying down, his eyes locked on the dark blue sky above. “Alright,” he said, climbing up beside him, laying back with his hands behind his head. “So who is Keith? Let’s see. What are some things about you that make you you?”

Keith chuckled beside him and hummed. “I live in a one bedroom apartment. I like smoothies and ice cream a lot. My favorite color is… blue. I’ve always preferred cats to dogs, but I like dogs too. I want to go to law school, be a lawyer.” He stopped for a second, like he was debating the next thing he said. “I had a friend who was in the foster system too. He got sent to juvie for beating up his foster dad once. He found him… in his daughter’s room and he just… lost it. But the courts just saw this orphan delinquent that caused trouble wherever he went. It’s all prejudice, you know?”

“Yeah,” he murmured.

“I loved debating in school. I guess it was a good thing I didn’t have to keep changing schools.” He shrugged. “I think I could be a good lawyer.”

“You have the passion for it,” Lance agreed. “See? You don’t need ancestors to make you who you are. Or who you want to be.”

Keith looked over at him with a serene smile, his eyes much less troubled than they had been before. If he hadn’t been so afraid to make a fool of himself, Lance would’ve leaned in and kissed him. It was so tempting. But the idea of Keith freaking out was terrifying enough to paralyze him and stop him.

“You going to Shiro’s party?” he asked, his eyes back on the sky. “I could pick you up if you are.”

“Yeah, I think I will. At least for a little.” Keith hummed and they laid in comfortable silence. Without realizing it, Lance fell asleep. Keith was still looking at the sky listening to Lance’s rhythmic breathing. “Keith.”

“Yeah?” No response. Keith looked over at him, surprised to see his eyes shut and he heard the small rumble in the back of his throat that wasn’t quite a snore. But he’d said his name. He’d heard it clearly.

Keith couldn’t blame him for falling asleep. He knew he must be tired after working so hard each day. But he didn’t want to disturb him when he seemed so calm and peaceful.

“Keith, don’t push me,” he heard. He looked over in surprise, but Lance was still fast asleep. It dawned on him that Lance was sleep talking. Which meant he was dreaming about him. He had never heard anyone sleep talk before, but he always thought it would sound muffled and slurred. It didn’t. It was crystal clear and loud, as if he were awake. “Try the pork chop,” Lance said as he breathed out. Keith chuckled and bit his lip. Then he was quiet.

Keith waited until it was eleven thirty and gently shook him.

Lance opened his eyes in a panic and felt confused when he saw Keith in front of him. “Shit. I fell asleep.”

“It’s okay. I had time to think about what you said,” Keith assured. “Want to go home? Your mom said midnight, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I should go back,” he said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Oh man. I can’t believe I fell asleep.” Keith smiled at him like he knew something, but Lance wasn’t sure why. He got back into the car and twisted in his seat so he was looking at Keith. “So, the drive…. Did something happen?”

Keith shrugged. “I was lonely. I guess I had an existential crisis.”

“Well I’m glad I could help. I’m awesome at distracting people,” he said. “My cousins always said I was like, ADD or something because I’m always talking about different stuff, going on to other topics before finishing one, but I mean, it’s not too bad. When I was little, I’d start coloring then go watch TV then start a puzzle, then go back to the coloring book. It was a cycle. Plus, I could never stop talking one I started, which is why a lot of people tended to find me annoying, but it’s not my fault my brain runs at like a hundred miles an hour, you know? It’s why I hate writing. I miss words or explanations because I’m so anxious to jump to the next topic or the next idea.” He stopped and grimaced. “Crap. I’m doing it now.”

But Keith was smiling. And he chuckled as Lance stopped talking. “Don’t worry. It suits you more.” Lance hummed. “You seem more comfortable being able to talk. Before, you know like before the dinner, you seemed… restrained I guess.”

Lance bit his lip and thought of that. How could Keith see a difference when he hardly knew Lance? And Lance hardly knew him. But man, did Lance like him.

Too soon, they were in front of his house and Lance was trying to figure out how to say goodbye. But instead, Keith leaned forward. Lance thought he would kiss him, but instead, Keith jut hugged him. Still, Lance felt just as short of breath and dizzy as though Keith had kissed him. “Thanks for today,” he murmured, pulling away. “It really did help.”

Lance gulped and nodded. “Anytime.” He cleared his throat and opened the door. “Anyway.”

“Hasta luego, Lance from High School.” Lance smiled and got out of the car. Keith’s car didn’t pull away until Lance was inside. And Lance’s smile didn’t fade, nor did his heart stop pounding until he was in bed, fast asleep.

Friday morning as he cleaned the restaurant, he was humming and singing along to the station he’d put on the boombox. A few early morning customers came in and Lance’s attitude earned him a big tip.

A little after noon, Tia Carla went up to him and smiled. “Is there a reason you’re singing all these love songs all day?”

“They’re not love songs, just Spanish songs, Tia.” He shrugged. “Not my fault most of them revolve around being in love.” She pinched his side, and he swatted her away.

Keith and his friends didn’t come in that day. And he didn’t stop by the shop either. But he had texted him, and whenever Lance could, he responded. Keith understood that Lance was busy, so although their texts were spaced out, they kept talking.

That night, Lance stayed up messaging him, finally able to respond quickly. He fell asleep mid-text.

The next morning, at the restaurant, he continued messaging, grateful for the lack of customers. The shop was busy, but Lance could handle it.

When the small Nissan Altima rolled in, though, Lance had to remind himself he was working on an engine to stop himself from rushing over. “Hey there, Grease Lightning,” Keith said as he walked over to him. “How many cars have come in today?”

“Since I’ve been here, about ten. Mostly oil changes though.” Keith nodded. “What’s up?”

“You still up for that party?”

“Oh. Shit. Yeah, but… I have to shower and get ready.”

Keith shrugged. “I can wait at your place, I don’t mind.” Lance nodded and Keith sat there, talking to him about mindless things as he continued to work until it was too dark to see and his papo ushered him home.

As he walked in, Lance announced, “Ma? Keith is here, he’s going to wait while I get ready.”

“That’s fine, mijo. Keith, you thirsty?”

“No ma’am, thank you.” Lance hesitated and Keith smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll just hang out with your sisters. Which is which?”

Lance chuckled. “Jackie is the oldest. She’s the one with the birthmark on her lip. Emily is the one with too much kiddy makeup on. And Alexia is the youngest. She’s still learning English, so she communicates more through pointing and weird Spanglish.” Keith nodded and walked over to the couch, earning three simultaneous head turns. “Good luck,” Lance laughed as he left to get ready.

By the time he was showered and dressed, he found Keith on the all fours on the floor with Alexia on his back screaming, “Cabito, cabito!” He also had on bright pink blush and messy red eyeshadow, which he assumed was Emily’s doing.

“What the…?”

“Zia wanted him to be a horse. And Emily promised he’d look pretty,” Jackie said. She was in fourth grade, reading a book on the couch. “Jorgie came in too, but he locked himself in his room.” She shrugged and returned to her book.

“Zia, can I get my friend back?” he asked. She looked at him, her disheveled brown curls spilling from her braids. “Te doy una paleta?”

“Peta? Peta! Si!” She scrambled off Keith and scurried after Lance while he got her a lollipop.

When he returned, Keith was grimacing at his reflection. “I couldn’t say no to her. She has giant puppy eyes.” Lance laughed and offered him a wet napkin.

“Bathroom’s at the end of the hall.” He nodded and disappeared.

“He’s cute,” Jackie said, looking up at him. “Just friends?” Lance nodded. “But you like him.”

“Keep your voice down. I don’t know yet.” She raised an eyebrow and smiled, looking back at her book. He went to the dining room where his mom was looking through a recipe book. “Ma? We’re gonna leave soon.”

“Please don’t drink,” she said immediately. She looked up and raised an eyebrow. “You know I prefer for you to do that when you’re here with your family. Not with friends.”

“I know, Ma,” he mumbled.

“And please don’t be out too late.” He nodded.

“Okay, I’m good,” Keith announced. “Ready?” Lance nodded and went to kiss his mom’s cheek.

Before he could pull away, she placed her middle and forefinger on his forehead, then his chest, then each shoulder before lightly touching his lips; the sign of the cross. Lance kissed her hand and smiled at her. Before he and Keith could go, she said, “Wait, Keith.” She tugged him back and smiled. “Just to ease my nervousness,” she said with a smile, doing the same to him.

Keith blinked rapidly and blushed as he did what Lance did. He seemed dazed as they went to the car. When he sat, he looked straight ahead, and Lance got slightly worried. “That was… very motherly…. It caught me by surprise. I’m not used to it.” Before Lance could ask, he said, “I’m fine.” He smiled and started driving.

When they got to the party, Lance was relieved to find that it was just a few people as promised, and not a full blown party. They were all in a metal frame pool. “Yo, Keith!” Pidge shouted. She got out of the water and wrapped a towel around herself. “Hey Lance,” she greeted. “We busted out the pool last minute, so if you need swimwear, Shiro has some spare shorts and towels inside.”

Lance smiled and kicked off his shoes. “Sweet.” She led them inside and offered them some shorts. Lance ducked into the bathroom while Keith went into the bedroom. By the time he’d gone back out, Keith was in the pool, slowly easing himself lower and lower.

Without warning, Lance jumped in, splashing water all around, dunking himself into cold water that had him laughing anxiously as he came up. “Lance!” Keith complained. “Shit, that’s cold!”

The others, already accustomed to the water, laughed and swam closer to Lance. “Hey, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” Shiro said. “Shiro.”

“It’s your birthday, right? Happy birthday.”

“I’m Pidge, Shiro’s niece.”

“Hunk.” Hunk had way more tattoos now that he was shirtless, and Lance was entranced by the tribal swirls. It reminded him vaguely of Maui.

“I’m Allura,” a girl with chocolate brown skin said with a wave. She had a slight accent, but Lance couldn’t tell if it was British or something else.

“Lance,” he said, offering his hand to her.

He shook his hair out as Pidge hauled in a basketball. That’s when Lance noticed the basketball net attached to the warehouse the pool was by. It was just one edge of the pool. Pidge shot the ball and it swished into the net, earning her a series of high fives.

They went around each trying to get the ball in, but it eventually turned more into a game of who could sabotage a throw the best. Shiro was unmovable, Allura and Pidge had killer aim, and Pidge was ruthless in her attacks.

Before long, they were all out of the pool dripping wet, scavenging for food. Shiro had managed to pull out hot dogs to grill and Allura helped heat up chili and cheese for some nachos. Lance did his best not to look at Keith’s shirtless body for long.

Hunk piled up four hotdogs with chili and cheese and a side of chips. “He-hey, my kinda guy,” Lance said, giving him a high five. “I see your four, and I challenge you five,” he said, preparing his own hot dogs. Hunk smiled and gave him a fist bump.

“You’re on.”

Keith slinked up beside him and smirked. “Careful. Don’t mess with Hunk and food. He’s in culinary school, eating is a way of life for him.” Lance felt anxious with the bare skin of Keith’s torso brushing along his arm, but he didn’t show it.

And just as expected, by the time Lance scarfed down his third hot dog, he was cramping and unable to keep eating without making himself sick. But Hunk seemed unfazed as he made another two and ate them. “Nope. Can’t. Uh-uh.”

A pair of hands clasped his shoulders. “Don’t worry about it,” Keith laughed over him. Lance glanced up at him and chuckled nervously. “I’ll bring you something to drink to wash it down.” He walked away and Lance hoped his cheeks weren’t too red. If they were he hoped to pass it off as exertion from eating.

“So… you into Keith?” Lance nearly choked on his spit as he looked over at Hunk. “I’m taking that as a yes.”

He wiped his mouth and shook his. “Uh, no I, that wasn’t my, look, I-”

“Lance, chill. I won’t say anything.” Before Lance could respond, Keith was back with a soda in his hand. Lance too it, glancing at Hunk. But Hunk was looking at Keith, his expression unreadable. “Say guys, why not play a game of truth or dare?”

“What are you, a middle schooler?” Pidge snorted.

“You’re excluded,” he answered. Pidge frowned and crossed her arms. “It’d be fun.”

“Well, I don’t see why not. If we get bored, we just go back in the pool,” Shiro said. They sat down around the table, some with food, some just wrapped in their towels. “Who goes first?”

“Well, you’re the birthday boy,” Keith said, leaning forward onto the table. “You first. Truth or dare?”

Lance laughed as they went around the table with the most ridiculous, albeit slightly pathetic dares. But he loved that no one was drunk or trying to disappear to have sex. He’d gone to one party in college, and it was full of people getting drunk and grinding on each other. This was nothing like that.

“Lance, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he scoffed.

“I dare you to jump from the warehouse roof into the pool,” Shiro said. Lance scoffed and stood.

“That’s a little dangerous,” Keith said uneasily, as they all followed.

“Please,” Lance scoffed, pulling himself up onto the roof ledge easily. “I got mad precision skills.” They watched as he stepped forward near the ledge.

“Don’t hurt yourself, sharpshooter,” Keith called up. Lance smiled and stepped back before jumping and curling into himself, falling into the water. When he came up, he could hear the others cheering for him.

He pulled himself out, shook his hair out, splattering them victoriously. “Okay, okay, Keith’s turn. Truth or dare?” Hunk asked.

Keith regarded him for a moment and crossed his arms. “Truth.”

“How far have you gone with Michael?” Lance furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Keith who was staring wide-eyed at Hunk. “Well?”

“Yikes. On the spot,” Pidge mumbled. “That’s cold-hearted.”

“Am I… missing something?” Lance whispered to Shiro and Allura.

“His boyfriend,” she answered. “He’s in Waco studying neurology. He’s in summer courses, so he hasn’t come back.”

Lance felt his stomach drop and he looked back at Keith who was gritting his teeth. He rolled his eyes and muttered. “Below the waist.” Hunk sat back and hummed. “You’re an ass. I’m not playing anymore.”

“Back to the pool it is,” Pidge said.

Lance started picking up his trash and Keith fell back. “Hey. You… okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Why?” He gathered the trash and put it in a bag.

Keith shrugged and gathered some trash too. “The whole boyfriend thing, I guess. Wondering if I should have told you before.” Lance hummed and continued cleaning. “Should I… have mentioned it?”

“Oh, nah. I was actually worried that you’d feel weird since I admitted the whole liking boys thing. But you like boys too, so… guess there was nothing to worry about.” Keith opened his mouth but Lance just smiled. “I’m actually a little tired from this week. My back hurts with being bent over cars and cleaning tables and stuff so… I think I’ll just head back.”

“Oh yeah, let me just dry off and-”

“No, hey it’s cool, you’re with your friends and stuff. I can call my uncle or Tia Carla.” He shrugged and turned away before he could answer and went inside to change.

When he came back out, he saw Hunk by the doorway. “I can drive you,” he offered. Lance didn’t reject the offer and followed him to his Jeep. “I’m sorry.”

“You could have just told me. Instead of putting him on the spot.”

“Felt like he kind of deserved it,” he shrugged. Lance frowned and wondered if Keith had purposely tried to lead him on. Or if he even had been at all. Maybe it had been in Lance’s head. Maybe he just let a stupid high school crush get the best of him. “Where to?”

Lance directed him to his house and stayed quiet the whole ride there.

Click Here for Chapter 5

#klance #keith and lance #lance and keith #voltron #kieth #lance #hunk #pidge #shiro #allura #au

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lilicrevere · 7 years ago

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First let’s hold off on the rest of your bullshit.

The next time you call me a “racist” but then fix yourself to type “dem evil whypippo” mocking me in a black southern accent, I want you to smack yourself. Because I can’t do it for you. How dare you call me a racist for wanting artists to not inaccurately draw the Netjeru. And then you say that to me! Wtf is wrong with you??? Who the hell do you think you are!? I said, very clearly, that not all white people are racist but shit, you dont help the case when you stoop to racists insults!

Seriously wtf is wrong with you? I don’t understand how you can continue coming back and typing out that long ass argument. Only to show that you are the only racist here.

Have I mocked you? Have I degraded you by mocking your accents or mocking anything about you? No. So fucking come back when you can make an argument without insulting me and other black people. That’s the first thing.

Secondly, this is dragging on too damn long!

And I’m tired of trying to justify myself and my post to YOU. Who are you??? Why’re you here? If you don’t like my post then leave lol. You accuse me of being a racist and living in Isfet. Yet I’ve never mocked anyone because of their race. I’ve never stereotyped anyone to demean their argument. I’ve never refused service to anyone because of their race. I’ve never lynched anyone because of their race and I’ve never been prejudice against anyone and treated them any differently because of their race. Nor do my people have a history of doing so🤷🏾‍♀️

So I’m not a racist. And I do my best everyday to live in Ma’at. Living in Ma’at also means respecting those who deserve respect and not shitting on anyone’s history or culture. Living in Ma’at is very much being an social justice warrior. Social justice is Ma’at :)

You respect people’s beliefs and ideas; as long as they don’t shit on other people’s history and/or culture. As well as if they don’t harm anyone.

“As long as the artists isn’t claiming that the whitewashed image of the Netjeru is HISTORICALLY ACCURATE OF A DEPICTION, I don’t fucking care.”

That’s great! But I care, and so do many many other people. And yes I’m generalizing that as a whole overall group, Black people do care about the whitewashing of their history.

So if you don’t care then fine, don’t care😆 You’ve been making it seem like this is about me and my “obsession” but it’s about you and yours. You say you don’t care but then why continue this banter? I think you do care, I think you care a lot.

I’ve admitted to caring, that’s why I continue this annoying argument. I care about people knowing it is NOT OKAY TO WHITEWASH THE NETJERU OR ANY HISTORICAL FIGURES THAT ARE POC! Idc about feelings idc about any of that shit. DONT SHIT ON PEOPLES HISTORY BECAUSE YOU YOURSELF CANNOT ACCEPT IT AS IT IS! And by “you” I mean any fucking butthurt racists whose mad right now because they can’t whitewash the Netjeru. The Netjeru are black/brown and if you don’t like it there’s always the Greek Gods for you to crawl too. Because if you can’t respect Kemetic history -which is BLACK/BROWN HISTORY- then you shouldn’t be here at all. Yes, you and everyone else reading this made because they wanna worship white gods in an Egyptian religion.

And where are my manners! Here ya go sweetie:

https://lilicrevere.tumblr.com/post/174889473031/there-is-a-right-way-and-a-wrong-way-to-draw

Here’s a post that explains why it’s racist to whitewash the Netjeru. And to go with that I’ll say again, it doesn’t matter if the artists meant to be racists. Whitewashing the Netjeru is still a racist act and shouldn’t be accepted. I’ve actually removed people whose artwork is considered whitewashed because 1) They understood that whitewash isn’t okay 2) They’ve apologized and agreed to do better in the future 3) They learned their lesson.

So again I don’t care about your feelings or the feelings of racists. And y’all can die mad about it.

Plain.

Simple.

Done arguing.

@djar-em-rekh

Ya know, I consider myself to be very educated.

In fact, I love to learn new things everyday. And I try my best to be as accurate as possible.

So when I say we’re not talking about the fucking Roman depictions of Isis but the Egyptian ones, and you KEEP TALKING ABOUT THE GRECO-ROMAN ISIS, the only person who seems uneducated is yourself :)

This is a Greco-Roman statue of Isis, the Isis that the Romans worshipped.

If you’re in the Kemetic communty. You don’t worship the Roman version of Isis. Because your not practicing an ancient Roman religion.

You worship the ACTUAL EGYPTIAN STATUES OF ISIS! Because Kemeticism isn’t the modern reconstruction of “Greco-Roman Polytheism”. It’s the modern reconstruction of Egyptian Polytheism.

So if you worship Roman deities and have a white Isis, no ones gonna stop you. But if your worship the EGYPTIAN NETJERU, uhhh YEAH if you draw a white Isis imma call you tf out for whitewashing her just like I’m calling out the Romans and Greeks for whitewashing her. It’s plain and simple.

History can show that a lot of traditional POC religious figures have been whitewashed over time for the benefit of white people. And if you would like to debate over this fact then we can. But it’s the truth. I understand and respect people who worship the Greco-Roman version of Isis, as they worship Greco-Roman deities. I respect that Isis is a universal goddess.

But I will not respect the erasure of African history to make you more comfortable about whitewashing Isis. If you’re in the Kemetic communty then, as many Kemetics know, you are worshipping ancient African deities, Kemeticism is one of the few ATRs that are open to everyone and that anybody of any race can follow. But that does not mean you get to disrespect them and the POC practitioners who worship one of the few actual POC Gods/Goddesses by whitewashing them.

It’s disrespectful and it’s racist as fuck to say that you can’t worship a Brown/Black Goddess because she’s not white. Egypt was a Black and Brown nation full of Black and Brown people. Kemet literally means land of the Black people.

Don’t believe me because you’re fucking uneducated?

Hmmmmm I wonder why they’d call their nation the “land of black people”😑😑😑

So to end this debate, the Netjeru SHOULD NOT BE PAINTED/DRAWN AS WHITE DEITIES!!! They are POC and you need to draw them as such in your public artwork.* Most Egyptian lore describes them as golden skinned with lapis lazuli hair. And if you want to stick to that you can. Just make sure that you don’t forget their broad noses, big lips, and kinky hair. As depicted in the actual Egyptian statue above.

Anyone can reblog this to help spread awareness about whitewashing in the Kemetic community and how you can properly honor and respect the Netjeru❤️

*By public artwork I mean if your like a legit art who sells paintings and people come to your blog for inspiration and to see your work. You should be represent your public drawings of the Egyptian Netjeru as a Egyptian Netjeru.

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