For yemghani, who is a delight.

nickname: Mish Mish (المشمش)

gender: female

sexuality: vague and also gay

height: 5’3”

time zone: pacific

average hours of sleep i get every night: Not nearly enough.

the last thing i googled was: “Where can I buy sugar plums?”

my most used phrases: “I don’t know,” a tired groan-y noise, “that’s absurd”

first word that comes to mind: bright

what i last said to a family member: “I’m proud of you, habibi.” 

one place that makes me happy and why: The library I spent most of my childhood in. It was brilliantly organized and there was a mountain lion statue I respected too much to climb on.

how many blankets i sleep under: Too many or too few.

favorite beverages: heavily disguised coffee, juice (mango, orange), green/mint tea with lots of sugar

the last movie i watched in cinema: The Skeleton Twins

what you find most attractive in the opposite sex: N/A!

3 things i can’t live without: My family, reading, supportive communities when it comes to faith and activism.

something i plan on learning: Also Arabic! And Syriac. More about the history of the Suryoye, the development of gynecology in America, shifts in the English language across the centuries, Modernist literature, 1930s poets. How to be a morning person. How to make muhammara.

a piece of advice for all of my followers: Sleep well!

Someone walks over to our step to say hello. She bends at the waist, looming over Brooke.

Brooke doesn’t look up. She doesn’t stop stripping her stick.

Dig. Pull. Dig. Pull.

Our visitor reaches out a hand and cups it below Brooke’s chin.

I freeze. Oh God.

She uses the hand to pull Brooke’s head up by the jaw.

A thin line of panic starts somewhere deep. I know that Brooke is going to scream. 5,4,3,2 …

She does scream, but not in the way that I expect.

“I HATE BEING TOUCHED!!” she shouts.

I am flabbergasted.

Words. Self-awareness. Communication. Self-advocacy.

I know the sentence will need to be reformatted. But I am drenched in pride.

I turn to Brooke. “Great job telling us how you feel, Brooke. Really great job.” I hope that my words send a message to both of them. I stand with my girl.

Our visitor is undaunted.

“I just want to see that beautiful face,” she says. “Lift up for me.”

I am stymied by etiquette. By deference to our host. By generational difference. By convention.

Brooke is not.

She lifts her head as instructed. And growls.

This has probably been posted before, but this knocks me for a loop - a blogger and her autistic daughter had the opportunity to meet Suzanne Wright of Autism Speaks, and this is how one of the noisiest voice in the autism community treated her daughter.

What knocks me for a loop isn’t so much Wright’s awful behavior. It’s the unbelievable strength and self-advocacy that the blogger Jess’s daughter, Brooke, shows when someone violates her personal space. It’s her mother backing her up for making sure someone knows that they are not permitted to touch her unless she says it’s okay. Honestly, it’s heartening. I hope Wright felt real fucking uncomfortable. She should.

(Source: chantrykomori, via smokingkitten)


laurent de brunhoff