Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Continue reading “Word to Your Mother”
Author: Crystal Fleming
Crystal Marie Fleming is a writer, professor and sociologist.
The Kaleesi Burger
“Moon of my Stars”… “Mother of Dragons”… Call this smoldering dinosaur kale burger what you will, just don’t call it weak. Smokey morsels of crisped shiitake “bacon,” crown a regal beet gratin, smothered in Red Dragon cheese on top of a crunchy, berberre-rubbed kale patty, heirloom tomato, and slathering of sumac aioli. Dracarys! (Translation: “Fuck raw horse heart!”)
serious h/t to J. Kenji Lopez for the mushroom bacon
Spring Adventures in New York
Traipsing through the Boroughs.
Half-Marathon; Or, How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love My Body
As someone who is acutely aware of healing body image issues, I salute this post.
I’ve never told anyone these things. My parents, my sister, my friends – no one. So heads up. You’re the first to know.
For the last few years, I have grown, slowly but steadily, to despise the way my body looks.
When I was a kid, I was always told how skinny I was. I didn’t break fifty pounds until I was eight years old. In high school I was always the smallest – height and weight – of my friends. I grew up knowing, somehow, intuitively, that ‘being skinny’ was something good, that it was something I should maintain. In high school, that belief was confirmed and reinforced by magazines, friends who were constantly ‘dieting’, and my school’s insistence on athletic rigor and social ostracism of students who didn’t fit the body ideal. But I was always warned that, as a woman, ‘my time would come’, I would have kids…
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#BringBackOurGirls
Up to 275 schoolgirls were abducted from their classrooms.
Two weeks ago.
Two weeks ago.
Everyone in any relevant position of power – and I do mean everyone – has been slow to act on this. And, if you’ve been living off of mainstream media, you probably haven’t heard much about it. One of the reasons undoubtedly has to do with the fact that these girls are in Nigeria.
Two hundred and seventy five girls.
And now? Reports suggest that they’re being forced to “marry” the militants who abducted them. What this really means is that they are, in all likelihood, being raped and enslaved. There has been no massive response by the Nigerian president or military. Yesterday, parents and supporters in Nigeria protested for the second straight day to raise awareness about the plight of their children. On social media, the hashtag #bringbackourgirls is being used to spread the news and promote the sense of urgency. Many of us have been tweeting and talking about it, particularly over the last week, but almost none of us reacted quickly enough.
President Obama personally spoke to the recent Donald Sterling mess in the NBA, but, to my knowledge, has not said a word about these two-hundred-and-seventy-five abducted schoolgirls.
There’s a Change.org petition to sign. Please do what you can to inform folks in your circles about this and let us all know what we can do to help.
Raspberry Superfood Greens Smoothie
Kicking off May with this nutritious goodness before heading to work.
Courtesy of my Vitamix.
Mooji : Reactions of Anger to Unfairness
Academia is Not a Meritocracy
Academia is not a meritocracy.
(And here’s a dirty little secret : Neither is any other professional field).
You would think that smart people – especially social scientists – would have internalized this rudimentary kernel of truth. But we haven’t. Continue reading “Academia is Not a Meritocracy”
Woman of Color
The Beauty of Abandonment
I spoke with my father today, for perhaps four and a half minutes. After a bit of courteous small talk that revolved around the weather and summer plans, he rushed to get off the phone. I’m not sure why. I didn’t ask. Perhaps he had company, an appointment or something pressing on his mind. He might have been in physical pain. As a survivor of a traumatic accident, my father has multiple health challenges. Walking is profoundly difficult. Even sitting isn’t easy for him.
I’m not sure what reason he had for getting off the phone so quickly, but I can’t say I was surprised. Our last call – about six months ago – was similarly brief. I felt so many things in those four and a half minutes. Concern about his health. Happiness at hearing the warm, deep tones of his southern drawl. Guilt over waiting so long to call. Anger that he hadn’t called either. And all the while, an anxious awareness of the awkward space between us. Continue reading “The Beauty of Abandonment”
Aware of Awareness 