hi guys! this is a comic i made for a final in my comics in literature class. we had to do a research paper on a topic we’d discussed in class and then accompany it with a comic with a relevant subject. my paper was about hyper-sexualization of women in comic books, but i decided to broaden it out here as well as personalize it and make myself the subject and discuss something i’ve been subjected to in the convention circuit and on the internet as well as thousands of other women, as well as give a cue to thought about how the comic book industry as well as the video game industry and even just media in general (all of which are male dominated) push such ridiculous pressures onto girls and women.
also, it feels kind of silly to have to add this since i hope it’s obvious, but i am very aware that there are men that don’t subscribe to this attitude, and am incredibly grateful that these issues are brought to light to people other than the ones that are subjected to it.
anyway haha i have literally been staring at this for 9 hours i don’t even know which direction is up anymore. thanks for reading!!!
here is a tribe in Africa where the birth date of a child is counted not from when they were born, nor from when they are conceived but from the day that the child was a thought in its mother’s mind. And when a woman decides that she will have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child that wants to come. And after she’s heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child’s father, and teaches it to him. And then, when they make love to physically conceive the child, some of that time they sing the song of the child, as a way to invite it.
And then, when the mother is pregnant, the mother teaches that child’s song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old women and the people around her sing the child’s song to welcome it. And then, as the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child’s song. If the child falls, or hurts its knee, someone picks it up and sings its song to it. Or perhaps the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty, then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song.
In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them.
The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.
And it goes this way through their life. In marriage, the songs are sung, together. And finally, when this child is lying in bed, ready to die, all the villagers know his or her song, and they sing—for the last time—the song to that person.
You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn’t. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you’ll find your way home.
This is so sweet.
OMG SO EXOTIC. SO PURE. THE ORIGINAL PEOPLE.
So you know how tumblr gets their collective panties in a wad over the homogenization of Native American tribes etc? That’s me when it comes to the magical, hidden land of Africa <oooh mysterious.jpg>
The picture above is of a Himba woman from Namibia, which is in southern Africa. The closest thing I can find to the tale cited is from a paper published in a medical journal, where it is attributed to a “tribe in East Africa”. Funny how this mystical and exotic tribe is unnamed and the reference isn’t sourced [I WANT A SOURCE], despite the paper being an academic piece. Hmh.
I guess what I’m trying to say without using a lot of unfortunate language is: Africa is not a country. It is a huge, vast continent that is home to hundreds of unique tribes, all with their own beautiful traditions. These are real people, not just precious caricatures of life before technology ruined the world. So just… stoppit. Please.
Spent all day getting really pissed at this, gearing up to do the research on it, and getting so pissed I went “I’ll let cooler heads prevail.”
The reblog comments on the Phallic Amulet have astounded me…
Yes it is a penis… so obviously it represents masculinity and male generisms.
Yes in historical cultures objects like this were used a tool to have sexual intercourse with some gods, and even some saint; Saint Fuck.
They were made of almost anything, this one is carved from wood, but stone, metals, and bone could also be used, including just naturally shaped objects found rather than carved.
That’s a palad khik, isn’t it? My collection ain’t huge, but I have a few Thai penis amulets.
Be kind to yourself. Stop telling yourself that whatever you are struggling with “should” be easy. If something is hard for you, it is hard for you. There are probably Reasons, though those may just be how you are wired. Acknowledge these things. When you finish something hard, be proud! Celebrate a little.
And really, just stop saying “should” to yourself about your thoughts and feelings in any context. You feel how you feel. The things in your head are the things in your head. You can’t change either directly through sheer . You can only change what you do. Stop beating yourself up for who and what you are right now–it isn’t productive. Focus on moving forward.
This morning my daughter, who is nearly four, saw the stretch marks on my hips and stomach. She ran her hands over them and asked what they were.
“I got them when I grew up,” I said, “and a few more when I had you.” I grinned down at her. “They’re my stripes. You’ll get stripes too when you grow up.”
She was overjoyed. “Really?”
I think she’s in her room now, pretending to be a tiger.
This is what we need to teach.
Good job pet store. That is what’s up.
I worked in a pet store for 5 years, and every Easter our rabbit sales went up exponentially. I can tell you from experience that almost half of the rabbits we sold were brought back in as early as two weeks after they were adopted. Some people let them loose, and some people send them to a shelter. People need to understand this very statement, and truly think about it. A rabbit is a big commitment, and should not be a fad or seen as a compulsory pet.
I cannot like this anymore than once, but I sure as hell hope people will spread this message, because it’s important as hell. I used to hand out care sheet BOOKLETS to everyone looking to adopt, and it prevented many of them from adopting in the end.
Constantly irritated by people who “free” their rabbits into the wild. No you just made them food.
I really hate it when people treat animals as decorations or inanimate objects and then regret adopting them when they realize they’re actually alive and need caring