“A few years ago when Billie Piper was playing Rose, I was very worried because the next week’s episode was called something like The Day Rose Died. I can’t remember exactly what it was called. Well, my children were in love with Rose as a companion, and I was worried about her. So I sent an e-mail off to Russell T Davies, who of course had grown up on the classic Doctor Who series, and I said “Could you just reassure me that Rose does not, in fact, die because my children shouldn’t watch it if that happens,” and he sent an e-mail back to me saying, “You killed Adric. What do you care?”—Peter Davison (via youre-standing-on-my-scarf)
Peeta and katniss’ daughter slowly began to learn about the games and the Capitol and the rebellion in school. One day she came home and told her parents that a real soldier rebellion veteran came to school to talk to them. She turned to her mother and asked, “Did you know a soldier named Gale Hawthorne?”
“Look, without our stories, without the true nature and reality of who we are as People of Color, nothing about fanboy or fangirl culture would make sense. What I mean by that is: if it wasn’t for race, X-Men doesn’t sense. If it wasn’t for the history of breeding human beings in the New World through chattel slavery, Dune doesn’t make sense. If it wasn’t for the history of colonialism and imperialism, Star Wars doesn’t make sense. If it wasn’t for the extermination of so many Indigenous First Nations, most of what we call science fiction’s contact stories doesn’t make sense. Without us as the secret sauce, none of this works, and it is about time that we understood that we are the Force that holds the Star Wars universe together. We’re the Prime Directive that makes Star Trek possible, yeah. In the Green Lantern Corps, we are the oath. We are all of these things—erased, and yet without us—we are essential.”—
[…] Early in my freshman year, my dad asked me if there were lots of Latinos at school. I wanted to say, “Pa, I’m one of the only Latinos in most of my classes. The other brown faces I see mostly are the landscapers’. I think of you when I see them sweating in the morning sun. I remember you were a landscaper when you first came to Illinois in the 1950s. And look, Pa! Now I’m in college!”
But I didn’t.
I just said, “No, Pa. There’s a few Latinos, mostly Puerto Rican, few Mexicans. But all the landscapers are Mexican.”
My dad responded, “¡Salúdelos, m’ijo!”
So when I walked by the Mexican men landscaping each morning, I said, “Buenos días.”
Recently, I realized what my dad really meant. I remembered learning the Mexican, or Latin American, tradition of greeting people when one enters a room. In my Mexican family, my parents taught me to be “bien educado” by greeting people who were in a room already when I entered. The tradition puts the responsibility of the person who arrives to greet those already there. If I didn’t follow the rule as a kid, my parents admonished me with a back handed slap on my back and the not-so-subtle hint: “¡Saluda!”
I caught myself tapping my 8-year-old son’s back the other day when he didn’t greet one of our friends: “Adrian! ¡Saluda!”
However, many of my white colleagues over the years followed a different tradition of ignorance. “Maleducados,” ol’ school Mexican grandmothers would call them.
But this Mexican tradition is not about the greeting—it’s about the acknowledgment. Greeting people when you enter a room is about acknowledging other people’s presence and showing them that you don’t consider yourself superior to them.
When I thought back to the conversation between my dad and me in 1990, I realized that my dad was not ordering me to greet the Mexican landscapers with a “Good morning.”
Instead, my father wanted me to acknowledge them, to always acknowledge people who work with their hands like he had done as a farm worker, a landscaper, a mechanic. My father with a 3rd grade education wanted me to work with my mind but never wanted me to think myself superior because I earned a college degree and others didn’t.
And if you’re in love, then you are the lucky one, 'cause most of us are bitter over someone. Setting fire to our insides for fun, to distract our hearts from ever missing them. but I’m forever missing him.
“I’m not so sure about just Katniss as (much as) the whole of the people. And my boys. Look at my boys," she says, whipping out her iPhone to show a photo of her cuddling with Liam Hemsworth and Josh Hutcherson. "Wait, I have a message so you can’t see. I’m going to miss that. My angels. I’m mama cat and they’re my kittens.”—
Jennifer Lawrence on what she’ll miss when Mockingjay wraps