Nevaeh now wears a scarf to cover several bald spots and her singed
hair. She was left with first-degree burns, but it could have been worse
according to Tanya Robinson, Nevaeh’s mother.
“The doctor told me her hairstyle saved her life,” Tanya recalled. “Had it been different, she might not be here.”
This isn’t the first time Nevaeh has experienced bullying. Two years ago, another student broke her thumb.
I’m walking into that school like
Hate crime. It should qualify as one.
Nevaeh is thirteen years old. This happened at Gompers School in the Philadelphia School District. The school district has not issued any comment, but y’all can make yours:
Samuel Gompers School
Address: 5701 Wynnefield Ave, Philadelphia, PA 19131
District: The School District of Philadelphia
Phone: (215) 581-5503
The School District of Philadelphia
Address:
440 N Broad St, Philadelphia, PA 19130
Phone: 215-400-4000
This happened October 25, 2018. This isn’t some random post that won’t die. It’s happening now. Call. Demand accountability and this be treated as a hate crime.
Imagine going to a party and the white suburban stay at home mom with two overachiever kids and white dad who barbeques but doesn’t know how to barbeque and yet is always surrounded by other white Dads who compliment his barbqeuing even though they’re just store bought preshaped frozen patties from Ralph’s or Food 4 Less and while he’s cooking those the white mom comes out and says “okay kids, here’s some pizza!” And she pulls this out and starts telling the kids why its a “fun pizza” and then cries in her master bedroom when no one likes it or finishes it and the white dad is then consoling her why she sobs that she’s a terrible mother and ruined her fourth grade straight B+ sons birthday and thinks her kids hate her but they don’t care but she continues crying softly into her pillow while the children eat poorly cooked burgers with unmelted kraft singles and too much mayonnaise and the only other condiments are two pickles and pepper because the dad calls it his special burger with a secret spice but the spice was just pepper and the kids just keep playing E rated games on their Nintendo Wii while the 17 year old older sister starts cleaning the tragedy up and throwing away uneaten “fun pizza” and whole burgers dejected from the start while she dials Pizza Hut to get these kids an actual birthday lunch and the mother then throws a fit because the daughter did something the kids liked and she didn’t and was the only one making a huge deal out of it and the daughter was then grounded from her TV in her room for only two days and the son went to blow out the candles in his standard birthday cake from food 4 less the mom added strawberries to so she could feel she did something but was still slightly teary and sad because her day was ruined by no one wanting to eat her “fun pizza”
men reviewing a male filmmaker’s movie: if you can’t understand the poeticism of this movie’s slow pacing, then maybe you are not ready to understand cinema!
men reviewing a female filmmaker’s movie: not a lot happened. 0/10 wack
Men reviewing men: “A deeply moving, personal journey.”
Men reviewing women: “Too personal.”
Listen up y’all. I’m a young, lesbian woman midway through a masters of fine art in Screenwriting as I prepare for a career in film and television. And this is the fucking truth.
About a month ago I met with a (young straight white male) professor about a script I was working on. The protagonist is an LGBT female struggling with a depression severe enough to have ended her last relationship. She is medicated for her depression and the medication itself plays a role in the script. This isn’t the plot of the film, just an aspect of the protagonist’s character.
The entire duration of the meeting with this professor was marked by his extreme disinterest in my script. Which, fine- you can’t please everyone, and honestly there were some major problems with the script that I’ll have to tackle during the rewrite. But the real highlight of the meeting was when, after being asked what he felt the biggest issue with my protagonist was, my professor responded: “Well nobody’s that sad. It’s just unrealistic.”
Three other scripts in my class feature protagonists struggling severely with depression. Two of those three are written by men. When I checked in with them afterwards, I was told by the other female writer that she’d received a similar comment from our professor. Both male writers, however, had been praised for their “sensitive and thoroughly human characters.”
Of the faculty in my program, only two professors (of close to 20) are female. The majority of the program is taught, run and managed by white, straight, cis males.
My point is this;; it’s not just Hollywood. As far down the career step totem pole in Screenwriting as formal education, men genuinely don’t believe that women are allowed to be emotive, expressive beings. If you say too little, you’re a bitch- if you say too much, you’re melodramatic and pathetic to boot.
Men don’t want women, men want female bodies on camera, and that is the single biggest crock of horse shit in this entire garbage industry.
Midnight Caffeine 