screaming loud enough to turn back the wind

So, I have to write two papers on Freire for the first week of December: one is about his concept of conscientization and the importance he placed on dialogue in emergent literacy while the other is a synthesis of his and Macedo’s book Literacy: Reading the Word and the World.

I thought his work was apropos before last week. But now? Now it’s like holy shit.


Freire in 1987: “When you use ‘minority’ in the US context to refer to the majority of people who are not part of the dominant class, you alter its semantic value. When you refer to ‘minority’ you are in fact talking about the ‘majority’ who find themselves outside the sphere of political and economic dominance.”

Prompt: shrieking
Written November 8, 2016, waiting for class to start, before the results started rolling in. I reread it on Nov 11 in order to type it up. It hurt. It stoked my rage, which I managed to bank after a day of avoiding my tumblr dash. I wrote this thinking about how Hillary Rodham Clinton felt after years under scrutiny.


They call it shrieking
when they don’t want to listen,
don’t want to give you your due,
don’t want to spare attention,
when they know better than you.
They call it shrieking
when your words don’t matter
and your voice is discarded.
They call it shrieking
and they’ll talk over you
because their words are more important,
their words deserve to be heard
unlike yours because
their voices aren’t shrieking.

(Take a breath.
Breathe out.
Make them shake.
Shriek. )

1) Read comments on any article about this catastrophe.

2) Engage with uneducated, insensitive people on facebook.

(But SERIOUSLY if you tell my cousin who’s married to an immigrant that she’s overreacting because she broke down in tears when the election was called, my inner big sister is going to strike. It doesn’t matter that she’s older than me. It doesn’t matter that she has a Ph.D. in some nuclear science I don’t understand at all. She is in distress and you are being a fuckwad, and I am going to tell you so.)

(Also: do not tell me that not everyone who voted for Trump is an asshole. Don’t tell me they wanted to change the old government to get better care for the military, better health care, and better laws on abortion. Don’t tell me you actually paid attention and that’s what you gleaned.)

I have school projects to work on and I can't focus. I need something to do that will actually help people, make a positive difference in someone's life because I'm about to crawl out of my skin.

DID PEOPLE STAY HOME

WHY THE FUCK DID ANYONE VOTE THIRD PARTY

HOW THE FUCK IS ANYONE THIS STUPID OR HATEFUL

Today has been so awesome so far! I really hope it continues like this, because it’s been the best morning I’ve had in a long time.

I shiver and want to cry every time I watch the last race in Secretariat.

Muscle relaxers are not conducive to doing schoolwork. Or focusing. I do have doctor's orders to not take stairs, so I've emailed my teacher (who is also my new advisor) about moving class Tuesday night if at all possible. The only elevator in that building has been broken for nearly a month, so I've gritted my teeth twice and taken the stairs but my knee screamed for the remainder of that night and the next day both times. What I don't understand is how the people who work in that building haven't raised a fuss to get it fixed. Isn't it breaking all sorts of regulations for accommodation?

I voted this morning; an hour in line, less than a minute at the booth.

Now I’m waiting to hear back from the doctor. Because my entire body is no longer hurting, I can tell where I might actually be injured (mildly). And it looks like there more damage (but still mild) to my car than I saw yesterday.

There was schoolwork I needed to do yesterday. There’s schoolwork I need to do today. But I literally do not give a shit. I’m not doing it.

But, amazingly, I actually slept last night because my aunt the nurse suggested a generic sleep aid. I fell asleep and STAYED ASLEEP ALL NIGHT LONG. I can’t remember the last time that happened.

And now I'm at the season 3 finale. Who the fuck thought up this Dahak shit? Argh. It's just -- WHY.