Can you guise reblog this? Idk that Yahoo would be a great company to buy out Tumblr.
And I’m not asking this because I’d like to praise her breasts, but isn’t that a little rude to women that DID have cancer and had to undergo a mastectomy? Not that NOT having breasts makes you ugly, but I’d imagine losing a breast, or both, is akin to a man losing one or both of his balls. I’d probably feel less of a man if lost one or both of my balls, so I’d imagine that any woman that must undergo a mastectomy due to cancer will probably feel less of a woman post-surgery.
But really, while it is sexist to say that she ‘cut of her BOOBS’, I think it is morally wrong to praise her for doing something so extreme when she did not have to do it. You wouldn’t praise her if she decided to cut off her arm instead to prevent some disease, would you?
And aside from the idiocy behind her logic, it is really is an offense towards feminism that she’s doing this. Breasts are a symbol of nourishment. There is a spiritual poetry that can be found behind the image of a woman’s breasts. They are quite beautiful because of that. Breasts are what have fed and nourished many babies since the dawn of time. Breasts are givers of life. To alter that just because you were too scared of cancer is really offensive. Not too mention when you add in the fact that Angelina Jolie is rich as fuck, therefore if she actually got cancer, she can afford all the treatments in the world. With that said, this is also offensive to every woman that HAS had breast cancer and SURVIVED it with much less resources than the ones that are afforded to Angelina.
Moreover, encouraging other women to opt for the same procedure when there is a family history of cancer is not the right approach to cancer prevention. Rather than focusing on preventing cancer at the individual level, Angelina should have instead invested her time and money on pushing cancer research forward. And I’m not just talking about research for breast cancer, I mean ALL types of cancer. Cancer is a very real threat in our current lives. Personally speaking, I live in the most polluted area of the United States, so my chances of ending up with some type of lung cancer are higher than if I’d been raised in an area with cleaner air. But I can’t take out my lungs. Instead, I’ve accepted the fact that it’s highly likely I’ll have cancer later on in life, and because of that I’ve begun to take other preventative measures that are less drastic, but important nonetheless. And I support cancer research, and I hope that if, and when, I get cancer, there will be better, more effective, treatments available because of the research.
For those that have had family members with cancer, I would suggest that they learn more about their family history. That they learn more about what measures they can take. That they get checked regularly so that hopefully, if they do get cancer, they find it early enough that it wouldn’t be a severe issue.
Cancer IS scary, but a voluntary double mastectomy is a coward’s way out. I would have more respect for Angelina Jolie if she had instead decided to attack cancer, rather then run away from it. But really, she’s very rich. She can afford to live an extremely healthy life. Even with cancer in her family, her chances of beating cancer were very high. She really didn’t need to have that procedure done. She’s a rich white woman that is adored by millions. Why is she even stressed?
I’ve lost 2 family members to cancer, one to breast cancer and the other to colon cancer. Another family member survived breast cancer because she spotted it early. My family has taught me that we do not run away from the scary monsters, but rather we stay and fight them.
And while we’re on the topic, while it’s not anywhere near as common as it is for women, it is important that all of you know that only 20% of men diagnosed with breast cancer this year will survive it. Mostly because this 20% knew that men could get breast cancer, or because it was discovered early enough by accident. The other 80% thought only women could get it, thus they never thought those lumps in their chests were something they should have been concerned about until it was far too late. So fellas, you all should be looking for lumps too, both in your breasts and in your balls.
After learning my flight was detained 4 hours,
I heard the announcement:
If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic,
Please come to the gate immediately.
Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress,
Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly.
Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her
Problem? we told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she
I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly.
Shu dow-a, shu- biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick,
Sho bit se-wee?
The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—
She stopped crying.
She thought our flight had been canceled entirely.
She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the
Following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late,
Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him.
We called her son and I spoke with him in English.
I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and
Would ride next to her—Southwest.
She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it.
Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and
Found out of course they had ten shared friends.
Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian
Poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours.
She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering
She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered
Sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—
And was offering them to all the women at the gate.
To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a
Sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California,
The lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same
Powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies.
And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—
Non-alcoholic—and the two little girls for our flight, one African
American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice
And lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar too.
And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—
Had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing,
With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always
Carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.
And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought,
This is the world I want to live in. The shared world.
Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped
—has seemed apprehensive about any other person.
They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too.
This can still happen anywhere.
Not everything is lost."
Naomi Shihab Nye (b. 1952), “Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal.” (via strawberrymoongoddess)
I resplied,”If you’re cute, I’m into you. And I’m sure some other guy will think you’re the right kind of cute.”
So no, I was not into that particular black dude.
Then he called me racist.
True story guise.