lgbtq
Non-nuclear is the new normal; millions of children belong to happy families with lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender parents.
Beyond Stereotypes: Unveiling the Complexity of the Ghetto
Title: Understanding the Complexities of the Ghetto: Beyond Stereotypes and Misconceptions In the collective consciousness, the word "ghetto" often conjures images of poverty, crime, and despair. It's a term laden with historical, social, and cultural significance, yet its true complexities are often overlooked or misunderstood. To truly understand the ghetto, one must delve beyond surface-level perceptions and explore its multifaceted nature.
By Ssekatawa Isah2 years ago in Families
Dear Grandma
Grandma, I know you loved me, but would you love me now? By the time I was thirteen, you were gone. I cried for you—do you cry for me, now? What do you see when you see me? Are you happy? Are you disappointed? Do you hate me? Do you wish you could change me? Do you even see me at all? Do you see anything? Are you in the heaven you so strongly believed in? I don’t believe in that heaven anymore, Grandma. I wanted to. I tried for so long to believe, but I couldn’t keep pretending to feel something I didn’t, to believe so much I didn’t think was true. My last reason for holding onto heaven, onto God, was you. And no matter how hard I tried to talk to you through him, no matter how hard I cried and begged, you never answered back.
By angela hepworth2 years ago in Families
A promise made by promise. Content Warning.
A mother's love begins its daily ritual with a soft rustle of her child's breath, and throughout the day, it takes on various forms such as tender kisses, whispered words of encouragement, and unwavering support. This quiet strength guides her child through life's uncertainties, providing reassurance in a world filled with unknowns.
By Praveen Pk2 years ago in Families
Explain why popcorn pops to a kid who loves watching it in the microwave.. Content Warning.
Popcorn is like a tiny explosion of joy in a bag. You might have wondered why those little kernels magically transform into fluffy, delicious snacks when you pop them in the microwave. Well, get ready to embark on a journey into the world of popcorn popping – it's a mix of science, fun, and a dash of magic!
By JOSIAH NWOKO2 years ago in Families
Waiting for Me
I knew you before I knew myself; your smiles, laughter and eyes that sparkled, almond brown, back at me when I dared to look into any mirror, anywhere. You were blooming, not with sustenance nor with proper acknowledgement, you burrowed deeper, hidden behind my skateboard, my cigarettes, my unwanted peach fuzz. I resented you for being me; for stealing my place, my ease, my friendships. I despised you for pushing me forward, tossing me to the wolves, the haters, never caring to hold me tight. No one wants to be me, the unwanted babe, the banished boy in cohorts with a pushy budding young woman. I avoided you, I tried to smother you over and over for what, WHAT?; in this world what could you give me but rejection, hate and fear. I am like driftwood, washed up onto the rocky beach, stepped over, casted back to sea only to wash up again unwanted. I lost my father because of you, he unwanted me. You just had to take over my life, make my every moment hell. I sit in the shower broken; my body does not reflect you. My heart longs for love yet who will love this pain, this budding flame of dreams? I don't want me; how can anyone else? I have played and paid and now, with stacked dishes in my sink, dirty clothes on my floor, a room with a bed unmade I sit and I wonder why the hell I was born to be me in this creepy, stupid world. I am sensitive, smart and funny but that will never be enough. I am a weirdo to white guys with mohawks and big, black boots. Stomp, stomp, THUD! Will I one day be under their feet? Kicked, beaten to a bloody heap of white bones just like theirs? Will I relive my rejection from my father over and over and over or will there be a miracle? I lay low. Why the hell would I flaunt my femininity to appease those in charge at the clinic to recreate me? I am Frankenstein, an embarrassment to those whom I loved. My hair is falling out, I cry when I shave every morning. The one thing, the one person rather, I have is my mom. Somehow, for some I just don't know reason she keeps believing in me; she loves me and shows up. I have deceived her so many times, broken her heart and frightened her yet she continues to want me. I am never sure about anyone else. Never sure, never. I don't go outside unless I have no choice. The bus scares me; will my she in me be seen? She is stronger and emerging faster than my confidence. I keep my head down, stare at my phone in my oversized hoody hoping to just get to where I am supposed to be. When I get to where I am going I am still awkward and keep quiet. They see a brown boy, a lost case in a system of losers. At least that's what I think. Can I trust them to help me when I am amber in a porcelin boutique? Never know, never know. Mom texts me too much 'cause she worries. I guess she should be concerned; nothing seems to flow easily in my world, my burnt out boy, my screaming girl; my GOD, I am my twin. My eyelashes are long, my eyes are always wanting to cry, but I don't do so anymore, well, not that much. What does it do other than make my mom sad? Does anyone NOT see me as a freak of nature? I mean, other than mom? I don't understand why I should be PROUD when the whole damn world is grateful they don't have a kid like me. I get hugs from my mom, nice words from my doctor, sweet messages from far away aunt. I honestly do not know how long I can hold on to me. Alone. Me, myself and us. Transgender is not something I would have chosen. Why would anyone want to put a fucking sign on their door that said, "beat me"? That's where I am now. At the door. My life is wrapped up and placed in the bottom drawer of my dresser; there is no happiness, just lonesome, unwanted thoughts. My heart beats so loudly when I lay still; my she is free when we turn off the lights, look up at the stars and safely under the blankets look at texts from mom saying stuff like, " goodnight sweetie", "How are you?", " I miss you". When she says that I am her daughter, I shine, just a bit before my light goes out again.
By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)2 years ago in Families
FRIENDSHIP. Content Warning.
Introduction In the intricate tapestry of life, humans and animals have shared a profound connection that transcends time and cultural boundaries. From ancient civilizations to modern societies, this bond has evolved from one of survival to a rich tapestry of companionship and mutual understanding. The notion that humans and animals are friends is not just a sentimental perspective; it's a reality that manifests in the countless stories of loyalty, compassion, and shared joy between species. In this article, we delve into the heartwarming relationship between humans and animals and explore the ways in which this connection enriches our lives.
By Daljit singh2 years ago in Families
Sunset Serenades: Life Along the Shores of Lake Malawi. Content Warning.
The sun began its descent over the vast expanse of Lake Malawi, casting a golden hue across the water that stretched as far as the eye could see. Along the shores of the lake, a small fishing village came to life, each sunset marking the end of a day but the beginning of a unique rhythm that resonated with the heartbeat of the people.
By Nexus Narrator2 years ago in Families
**Whispers of Mulanje: A Tapestry of Life in Malawi**. Content Warning.
In the heart of Africa, where the sun kisses the earth with a warmth that lingers in the soul, lies the enchanting land of Malawi. Our journey begins in a remote village nestled against the backdrop of the majestic Mulanje Massif. The people here, like the roots of the ancient baobab trees, are deeply intertwined with the rich tapestry of their culture.
By Nexus Narrator2 years ago in Families








