ourtimeorg:

It’s no joke… student loan debt cannot be discharged in bankruptcy court

ourtimeorg:

It’s no joke… student loan debt cannot be discharged in bankruptcy court

nativeamericannews:

 Redistricting in California Finally Puts Tribal Reps on School Board
 After being ignored for nearly six decades the Grindstone Indian Rancheria, located in Glenn County, California, will receive its own representative on the Stony Creek Joint Unified School District Board of Education in Elk Creek, California.

:)

nativeamericannews:

 Redistricting in California Finally Puts Tribal Reps on School Board

 After being ignored for nearly six decades the Grindstone Indian Rancheria, located in Glenn County, California, will receive its own representative on the Stony Creek Joint Unified School District Board of Education in Elk Creek, California.


:)

beingliberal:

Senator Ted Cruz asked - 60,000 people answeredI bet that the Social Media manager of Senator Ted Cruz FB page is now fighting the urge to delete this “Quick Poll” … The damage can’t be undone - the best collection of pro-Obamacare comments online!

skunkbear:

Read or listen to the whole story (from Christopher Joyce).

Image Credits:

  • Top two archive photos courtesy of the Museum of the Rockies
  • Middle two: Jason Thompson for NPR
  • Last two: Maggie Starbard/NPR
smartassjen:

redefiningrealness:

My current foray into a stable identity started back in 1997, when I began transitioning while attending a private college in Rome, Georgia. I was studying psychology and computer science, dealing with the inner turmoil between my thoughts and paradoxical spiritual upbringing. Mandated by the college to regularly attend psychological sessions on-campus, my therapy was slowly leaving me frustrated and more confused. 
Eventually, I attempted suicide and was unceremoniously kicked out of college.
After being told at that point that my life would consist of receiving checks from disability, I rebelled and moved in with friends in my college town. Soon, I stared work as an apprentice chef with a local company. Feeling the need to better express my gender, my outward appearance started to ‘offend’ my bosses, and I was barred from appearing anywhere near the front of the restaurant when guests were there. When I got sick for a couple of days and had to call out, I was told to not come back to work at all. Making due, one weekend I decided to test my options in another locality, one that was more liberal and accepting than conservative Georgia. Hitchhiking brought me back to my birthplace of New York City, beginning a serious transition in Manhattan at a youth shelter. It was during that time that I found one of the most memorable jobs of my career, working at a gourmet coffee shop in Chelsea. I met many people, including celebrities, and was allowed to be myself, fully, while working. (During this time, I also dabbled in sex work, stripping at a local trans club and participating in street sex work in the Meatpacking District.) Unfortunately, the shop closed down suddenly and I was again without a job. I began working a few other jobs that matched my experience, like being a sign-language interpreter at a catalog company. Finally, in 2002, I got a coveted office position with a multi-million dollar non-profit in Manhattan. Working there, I got promoted three times in my first 90 days, and was lauded for my work and ability. 
Working as a woman, I felt accepted and a part of the world.  One day, after about a year and half of work, my grandfather died, throwing me into a spiral of deep mourning and distress. We had bereavement benefits at work, and I sat down with someone from HR to get some days off. It was then that I officially told the company about my gender identity. I was told to take off as many days necessary to attend the funeral in Georgia, with no issues. Upon my return, however, I was told that I needed a psychiatric evaluation to continue working. Unfortunately, our benefits did not cover the sessions and I couldn’t afford to pay on my own. So, a couple of weeks later, and I receive a letter in the mail saying I was fired for not coming in to work. Downtrodden and destitute, I followed my extended family to Virginia, where acceptance and freedom was at an all-time low. The only job I achieved was at MCI, a telecommunications company, which went bankrupt during my stay, leaving me without employment in an extremely conservative area. I could not find work at temp agencies, companies similar to my previous experience, and or even opportunities for ‘someone like me’ at Labor Ready. In 2005, I moved to Miami, Florida without a home. Thankfully, the city of Miami Beach put me and my friend in a hotel in North Beach, since there were no accommodations for transgender individuals at shelters then. I applied up and down South Beach to no avail, because no one wanted to hire a black trans woman. Stereotyped left and right, I eventually found a local non-profit where I could seek assistance. There, I was offered a small outreach position with an air of wariness, despite my resume. I worked my butt off at the community organization, helping my own community and becoming an HIV counselor, data manager, supervisor of counseling and testing, program coordinator, and mentor during my six years there. All good things end, however, and, once again, I found myself without a job. Though my fellow co-workers all managed to get something else, I was still without, besides two contract opportunities that fell through. Tired, angry, and motivated, I focused all my efforts in establishing local programming that could assist me and those like me. I wanted my transgender community to have the same access to life that those around me seemed to have little issue achieving. 
Thus, Trans-Miami was born. 
Using the networks and contacts I had acquired, I was able to create an organization that could have helped me at any of my earlier stages of life, focusing on empowerment, employment, health, transitioning, and equality. Yet, even this venture faces the same obstacles that I myself have faced, and still do. We opened Miami-Dade’s first center for transgender individuals. We brought together information on numerous services and programs that could benefit the community. We train and educate program staff, health professionals, and college grads on transgender sensitivity and competency. 
All of this without ONE CENT of funding. 
The efforts and successes of Trans-Miami has solely been built on my own blood, sweat, and tears. However, transgender programs and organizations the world over all suffer from an extreme lack of funding. Thus, I now find myself putting in an application for the Lotus House shelter, after a year and a half of sleeping on a friend’s couch. I attend meetings, am available at the center, and dabble socially solely on the charity of my friends, who help me with transportation and food. I get my clothes from my friends’ closets, to keep a professional appearance at committees and boards despite my situation. Still, I preach about the state of our community, and search for any avenue of assistance. I’ve received much support from allies and friends, and truly have hope that the climate in a historically unaccepting locality can change within my own lifetime. 
I will fight for what is right. 
I will fight for my community.
I will fight for myself.
I will not give up.

Read this.

smartassjen:

redefiningrealness:

My current foray into a stable identity started back in 1997, when I began transitioning while attending a private college in Rome, Georgia. I was studying psychology and computer science, dealing with the inner turmoil between my thoughts and paradoxical spiritual upbringing. Mandated by the college to regularly attend psychological sessions on-campus, my therapy was slowly leaving me frustrated and more confused.

Eventually, I attempted suicide and was unceremoniously kicked out of college.

After being told at that point that my life would consist of receiving checks from disability, I rebelled and moved in with friends in my college town. Soon, I stared work as an apprentice chef with a local company. Feeling the need to better express my gender, my outward appearance started to ‘offend’ my bosses, and I was barred from appearing anywhere near the front of the restaurant when guests were there. When I got sick for a couple of days and had to call out, I was told to not come back to work at all.

Making due, one weekend I decided to test my options in another locality, one that was more liberal and accepting than conservative Georgia. Hitchhiking brought me back to my birthplace of New York City, beginning a serious transition in Manhattan at a youth shelter. It was during that time that I found one of the most memorable jobs of my career, working at a gourmet coffee shop in Chelsea. I met many people, including celebrities, and was allowed to be myself, fully, while working. (During this time, I also dabbled in sex work, stripping at a local trans club and participating in street sex work in the Meatpacking District.) Unfortunately, the shop closed down suddenly and I was again without a job.

I began working a few other jobs that matched my experience, like being a sign-language interpreter at a catalog company. Finally, in 2002, I got a coveted office position with a multi-million dollar non-profit in Manhattan. Working there, I got promoted three times in my first 90 days, and was lauded for my work and ability.

Working as a woman, I felt accepted and a part of the world.

One day, after about a year and half of work, my grandfather died, throwing me into a spiral of deep mourning and distress. We had bereavement benefits at work, and I sat down with someone from HR to get some days off. It was then that I officially told the company about my gender identity. I was told to take off as many days necessary to attend the funeral in Georgia, with no issues. Upon my return, however, I was told that I needed a psychiatric evaluation to continue working. Unfortunately, our benefits did not cover the sessions and I couldn’t afford to pay on my own. So, a couple of weeks later, and I receive a letter in the mail saying I was fired for not coming in to work.

Downtrodden and destitute, I followed my extended family to Virginia, where acceptance and freedom was at an all-time low. The only job I achieved was at MCI, a telecommunications company, which went bankrupt during my stay, leaving me without employment in an extremely conservative area. I could not find work at temp agencies, companies similar to my previous experience, and or even opportunities for ‘someone like me’ at Labor Ready.

In 2005, I moved to Miami, Florida without a home. Thankfully, the city of Miami Beach put me and my friend in a hotel in North Beach, since there were no accommodations for transgender individuals at shelters then. I applied up and down South Beach to no avail, because no one wanted to hire a black trans woman. Stereotyped left and right, I eventually found a local non-profit where I could seek assistance. There, I was offered a small outreach position with an air of wariness, despite my resume.

I worked my butt off at the community organization, helping my own community and becoming an HIV counselor, data manager, supervisor of counseling and testing, program coordinator, and mentor during my six years there. All good things end, however, and, once again, I found myself without a job. Though my fellow co-workers all managed to get something else, I was still without, besides two contract opportunities that fell through.

Tired, angry, and motivated, I focused all my efforts in establishing local programming that could assist me and those like me. I wanted my transgender community to have the same access to life that those around me seemed to have little issue achieving.

Thus, Trans-Miami was born.

Using the networks and contacts I had acquired, I was able to create an organization that could have helped me at any of my earlier stages of life, focusing on empowerment, employment, health, transitioning, and equality.

Yet, even this venture faces the same obstacles that I myself have faced, and still do. We opened Miami-Dade’s first center for transgender individuals. We brought together information on numerous services and programs that could benefit the community. We train and educate program staff, health professionals, and college grads on transgender sensitivity and competency.

All of this without ONE CENT of funding.

The efforts and successes of Trans-Miami has solely been built on my own blood, sweat, and tears. However, transgender programs and organizations the world over all suffer from an extreme lack of funding.

Thus, I now find myself putting in an application for the Lotus House shelter, after a year and a half of sleeping on a friend’s couch. I attend meetings, am available at the center, and dabble socially solely on the charity of my friends, who help me with transportation and food. I get my clothes from my friends’ closets, to keep a professional appearance at committees and boards despite my situation. Still, I preach about the state of our community, and search for any avenue of assistance. I’ve received much support from allies and friends, and truly have hope that the climate in a historically unaccepting locality can change within my own lifetime.

I will fight for what is right.

I will fight for my community.

I will fight for myself.

I will not give up.

Read this.

alluringhowell:

I’M LITERALLY A PIECE OF SHIT WHEN IT COMES TO KEEPING IN TOUCH WITH PEOPLE ONLINE OKAY I STILL KNOW YOU EXIST AND I STILL LOVE YOU I JUST AM A PIECE OF SHIT OKAY

I figure you’ll right me back after your semester ends. :P Maybe.

pinkgills:

the dude who pulls out a cigarette in front of a girl with lung cancer and then acts like sir dickweed mcfucklamp when she doesn’t understand the worst metaphor on earth seems to be tumblr’s newest squeeze

micklovich:

this is the single most pretentious thing ive ever seen in my life im gonna vomit

This is “Twilight” level bad.

it-all-started-with-amouse:

agenthiccupofarendelle:

katsahobbit:

illuminati-hottie:

yourhippielove:


Fox sleeping in a graveyard.

Makes me wonder about reincarnation

this is seriously so beautiful

he misses her

NO
DONT YOU DARE TUG ON THAT HEARTSTRING WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT

WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT????

it-all-started-with-amouse:

agenthiccupofarendelle:

katsahobbit:

illuminati-hottie:

yourhippielove:

Fox sleeping in a graveyard.

Makes me wonder about reincarnation

this is seriously so beautiful

he misses her

NO

DONT YOU DARE TUG ON THAT HEARTSTRING WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT

WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT????

nbcnews:

The real costs of distracted driving
(Infographic: NBC Nightly News)
It’s now illegal to text and drive in more than 40 states across the country and the penalties for breaking the law are increasingly stiff. Although about a quarter of all auto collisions are believed to be linked to digital distraction, no nationwide standards exist for investigating accidents where authorities suspect a handheld device was involved.
More from NBC Nightly News


Reblogging this because I favor Draconian driving laws. If I had it my way, you’d have to take a behind-the-wheel-test once a year and if you got 3 tickets in one year, your license would be suspended. Drunk drivers would automatically lose their licenses for 5 years, no exceptions. Second offence, ten years. Third offense, you never get it back. Fuck you and your bad driving. Driving is a privilege, not a right.

nbcnews:

The real costs of distracted driving

(Infographic: NBC Nightly News)

It’s now illegal to text and drive in more than 40 states across the country and the penalties for breaking the law are increasingly stiff. Although about a quarter of all auto collisions are believed to be linked to digital distraction, no nationwide standards exist for investigating accidents where authorities suspect a handheld device was involved.

More from NBC Nightly News

Reblogging this because I favor Draconian driving laws. If I had it my way, you’d have to take a behind-the-wheel-test once a year and if you got 3 tickets in one year, your license would be suspended. Drunk drivers would automatically lose their licenses for 5 years, no exceptions. Second offence, ten years. Third offense, you never get it back. Fuck you and your bad driving. Driving is a privilege, not a right.

thefaultinourspoons:

This is basically a post for people who think that the world is accessible for those who are disabled, although this is centred around those who use a wheelchair. 

And this doesn’t include when people park in disabled spaces without a badge, or question those who park in disabled spaces who don’t use a chair.

The first picture is of a disabled parking space, where the snow has been pushed into that space whilst people were clearing the car park. This also happens when snow ploughers push the snow to the side of the road and onto the pavement as it blocks the dipped down pavement where wheelchair users can get on/off of the pavement and most wheelchairs struggle to be able to push through the snow.

The second picture is of a lift/elevator in Boots a store in the UK, where there are baskets and cases in front of the lift, which block wheelchair users from using it and accessing other levels in the store.

The third picture is of a zebra crossing with a lowered pavement for wheelchair users, and there is an island in the middle with a normal height curb, which blocks wheelchair users, and it means they have to go around, along with having bollards near the entrance which don’t look wide enough to fit a wheelchair through.

The fourth picture is that of a ramp, which has a step in order to get onto the ramp. (I’m pretty sure they didn’t even try.)

The fifth picture is of a ramp with a tree in the middle, which doesn’t have enough room on either side for a wheelchair to get through.

The sixth picture is of a very very steep ramp, which even if you have someone pushing your chair you probably won’t be able to get up it!

The seventh picture is of a disabled parking space, which has a ramp leading to the entrance, which again has steps in order to access the ramp.

The eighth picture is of ‘disabled parking’, where non of the spaces have room to allow chairs to get out of the car, except at the back. They are just normal spaces where a blue sign has been placed in an attempt to make the parking ‘wheelchair accessible’.

The ninth picture is of a reception desk which is too high for wheelchair users to access, as they can’t be seen, due to the fact that they are smaller than the desk.

The final picture is of a ramp which only goes halfway up the curb, essentially meaning there is a step at the top of the ramp.

If anybody still thinks the world isn’t staked against those who are disabled, then I honestly worry about you.

We are convinced that liberty without socialism is privilege, injustice; and that socialism without liberty is slavery and brutality.— Mikhail Bakunin

We are convinced that liberty without socialism is privilege, injustice; and that socialism without liberty is slavery and brutality.— Mikhail Bakunin

liberalsarecool:

April 3, 1968. Forty-six years ago today. On the eve of his assassination, Martin Luther King Jnr. delivers a speech that brings tears to my eyes with “what could have been” nostalgia, yet gives me the resolve and inspiration to walk through walls to get shit done.

My thoughts are with of my old friend, Martin.

anachronisticfairytales:

Gino Pambianchi

anachronisticfairytales:

Gino Pambianchi