Today the island of Maui in Hawaii suffered an absolutely devastating fire that destroyed much of the city of Lahaina. The historic business district is gone. Please keep the people of Maui in your thoughts.
(via odetodickhead)
22 | They/Him | AroAce | Agender
Today the island of Maui in Hawaii suffered an absolutely devastating fire that destroyed much of the city of Lahaina. The historic business district is gone. Please keep the people of Maui in your thoughts.
(via odetodickhead)
You know, an interesting tumblr transformation that’s happened gradually, and which I’ve seen no one talk about: ask-culture has essentially dropped off to nothing.
By which I mean, asks used to be WAY more of the tumblr economy. They used to be more common to send, and receive, and see. They were integral to the collaborative, forum-like behavior of old tumblr communities, not even to speak on the HUGE number of ask-blogs that used to exist to only be interacted with in ask-form.
I’m not saying this in a vying-for-attention way but instead in an observational way: I used to get way way more asks in like 2015, even with a fraction of my follower count. I wonder if it’s due to the homogenization of social media sites? There’s a lot more of this divide between “content creator” and “consumer” instead of just a bunch of peer blogs who would talk to each other. “Asks” aren’t really a thing on twitter, are they? And as I understand it, the closest thing to an “ask” on instagram or tiktok would be a creator screenshotting some comment and responding to it in a new reel or video or whatever those content mediums are. Are asks just too tumblr-specific? Is that aspect of the site culture dying out as more and more people converge to using all their social media sites in the same way?
(via ryderdire)
forget about touching grass, i need to touch THE SEA I NEED TO GO INTO THE WATER I NEED TO DIVE INTO THE SEA!!!!!!!!!!!!
I NEED TO GO IN THERE ⬇️⬇️⬇️‼️‼️‼️
(via ryderdire)
Imagine a world where homosexuality was still in the DSM but society had moved gradually toward some moderate acceptance of queer people, but only with the understanding that we are sick and that leading out our queer lives is medically necessary for us, and so a person would have to get diagnosed with being gay by a psychiatrist in order to be allowed to have gay sex
this is basically the reality that trans people are living in right now. and that’s for those of us that are lucky enough to live in a place where we *are* allowed to lead out trans lives once we get gender dysphoria written down in our medical charts
(via ryderdire)
link here if ur unfamiliar
(via callingallcars)
Corn dogs are named for their traditional meat, the unicorn. As unicorns are now extinct, they can only be referred to properly as ‘Corn Dogs and not “Unicorn Dogs” as they were prior to 2009.
This is actually a common misconception! While the Unicorn Dog did exist and was discontinued following the extinction of unicorns in 2009, the Corn Dog is not a rebranding of the Unicorn Dog! The Corn Dog was created in 2003 by James H. Corn, though it remained a relatively unpopular Ohio treat until 2010 when Mr. Corn took the opportunity left by the Unicorn Dog’s exit from the market to take over the niche.
(via deadandphilgames)
I watched both seasons of Good Omens in a 24 hour period and I’m so 😭 I have avoided this show for so long and decided to finally watch it but I finished it so quickly! I did the same with Heartstopper season 2. My queer heart can’t handle all of these emotions
Reblog to make the tummy not hurt of the person you reblogged from.
(via odetodickhead)
Why Kids Aren’t Falling in Love With Reading - It’s Not Just Screens
A shrinking number of kids are reading widely and voraciously for fun.
The ubiquity and allure of screens surely play a large part in this—most American children have smartphones by the age of 11—as does learning loss during the pandemic. But this isn’t the whole story. A survey just before the pandemic by the National Assessment of Educational Progress showed that the percentages of 9- and 13-year-olds who said they read daily for fun had dropped by double digits since 1984. I recently spoke with educators and librarians about this trend, and they gave many explanations, but one of the most compelling—and depressing—is rooted in how our education system teaches kids to relate to books.
What I remember most about reading in childhood was falling in love with characters and stories; I adored Judy Blume’s Margaret and Beverly Cleary’s Ralph S. Mouse. In New York, where I was in public elementary school in the early ’80s, we did have state assessments that tested reading level and comprehension, but the focus was on reading as many books as possible and engaging emotionally with them as a way to develop the requisite skills. Now the focus on reading analytically seems to be squashing that organic enjoyment. Critical reading is an important skill, especially for a generation bombarded with information, much of it unreliable or deceptive. But this hyperfocus on analysis comes at a steep price: The love of books and storytelling is being lost.
This disregard for story starts as early as elementary school. Take this requirement from the third-grade English-language-arts Common Core standard, used widely across the U.S.: “Determine the meaning of words and phrases as they are used in a text, distinguishing literal from nonliteral language.” There is a fun, easy way to introduce this concept: reading Peggy Parish’s classic, Amelia Bedelia, in which the eponymous maid follows commands such as “Draw the drapes when the sun comes in” by drawing a picture of the curtains. But here’s how one educator experienced in writing Common Core–aligned curricula proposes this be taught: First, teachers introduce the concepts of nonliteral and figurative language. Then, kids read a single paragraph from Amelia Bedelia and answer written questions.
For anyone who knows children, this is the opposite of engaging: The best way to present an abstract idea to kids is by hooking them on a story. “Nonliteral language” becomes a whole lot more interesting and comprehensible, especially to an 8-year-old, when they’ve gotten to laugh at Amelia’s antics first. The process of meeting a character and following them through a series of conflicts is the fun part of reading. Jumping into a paragraph in the middle of a book is about as appealing for most kids as cleaning their room.
But as several educators explained to me, the advent of accountability laws and policies, starting with No Child Left Behind in 2001, and accompanying high-stakes assessments based on standards, be they Common Core or similar state alternatives, has put enormous pressure on instructors to teach to these tests at the expense of best practices. Jennifer LaGarde, who has more than 20 years of experience as a public-school teacher and librarian, described how one such practice—the class read-aloud—invariably resulted in kids asking her for comparable titles. But read-alouds are now imperiled by the need to make sure that kids have mastered all the standards that await them in evaluation, an even more daunting task since the start of the pandemic. “There’s a whole generation of kids who associate reading with assessment now,” LaGarde said.
By middle school, not only is there even less time for activities such as class read-alouds, but instruction also continues to center heavily on passage analysis, said LaGarde, who taught that age group. A friend recently told me that her child’s middle-school teacher had introduced To Kill a Mockingbird to the class, explaining that they would read it over a number of months—and might not have time to finish it. “How can they not get to the end of To Kill a Mockingbird?” she wondered. I’m right there with her. You can’t teach kids to love reading if you don’t even prioritize making it to a book’s end. The reward comes from the emotional payoff of the story’s climax; kids miss out on this essential feeling if they don’t reach Atticus Finch’s powerful defense of Tom Robinson in the courtroom or never get to solve the mystery of Boo Radley.
… Young people should experience the intrinsic pleasure of taking a narrative journey, making an emotional connection with a character (including ones different from themselves), and wondering what will happen next—then finding out. This is the spell that reading casts. And, like with any magician’s trick, picking a story apart and learning how it’s done before you have experienced its wonder risks destroying the magic.
– article by katherine marsh, the atlantic (12 foot link, no paywall)
This is so terrible and miserable and the worst part is that fucking shit George Bush implemented is still tanking education 20 years later. It already made school worse for multiple generations of school kids now and we never fixed it.
I had one English teacher in high school that allowed us to actually enjoy the reading and gave us different books than what was expected (Persepolis and Edgar Allan Poe). She let us eat candy and turned it into a sensory experience during Poe with ambient music and decorations. She gave us graphic novels and never focused on the state testing until a few weeks before we took them. I actually got my love of reading back (only for it to be crushed again the next year). This is what made me love English class in elementary and they stripped it away early on. No wonder kids don’t want to read.
(via callingallcars)