Art by Cyril Rolando
Shout out to girls who don’t mind being called dude and man casually
shout out to boys who don’t mind being called guuurrl
shout out to humans who don’t mind being called dawg
shout out to dogs who will let you call them anything so long as you say it in a happy, friendly tone.
Shout out to Guinea Pigs which are neither pigs nor from Guinea.
i hate when you voluntarily tell your parents some information about your life because you think you can trust them and then they bitch at you for it like congrats you have guaranteed that i will never tell you anything ever again
”This is my favorite photo in the world - me and Linus, born to a dairy cow and ordered to be killed when the farmer saw he was a male (and thus useless in the dairy industry). A compassionate individual intervened, and he was brought to a sanctuary. I met him when he was a few days old and 60 pounds, and he would always try to sit on my lap. Today, 7 years young and 1500 pounds, he still tries to sit on my lap.”
- Colleen Patrick-Goudreau
Gina, a Roma girl from Baltaeni camp, Romania. The wearing of a headscarf shows that she is married. (2004) Photo: Jeremy Sutton-Hibbert
I am a Gypsy
1000 years ago, Byzantine people named my people as athinganoi, which means untouchable in their language. They were so afraid that they avoided touching us. This expression spread all around the world and all people started call us with this word. Every country labeled us in its own language: Zigeuner, Cigani, Çingene, …
They thought that we were untouchable and different. Yes, we are different! We are poorer and also freer than other people. But we are also human like the others! However, other people have avoided working, living, and talking with us. Despite our vital contributions to their life with our crafts, they left us to forgotten in the back streets of their cities.We have suffered from a deep, intolerable poverty.
My ancestors tried all ways to stop the injustice… They cried out that they were not gipsy to rescue from the label of untouchable and they called themselves as Rom which means human in one of the languages they speak.
They begged: “We are Romani people, we are human! There is no difference between us. Please accept us! Please!”
Nobody cared about this scream. Thereupon our ancestors laughed at their helplessness, poorness, and hopelessness.
I won’t hopelessly beg like my ancestors did. I surely know that we are really different from the others! We are free, lasting, strong, humanistic and creative. We have been the most peaceful people throughout history. There is no reason to feel ashamed because of this.
Yes, I am untouchable! Evil, treachery, and humiliation cannot touch me anymore, owing to vitalizing pains we have witnessed. People looking to our shabby shoes cannot break my heart. Since we have had lifes like death for thousands of years, no one can touch to our divine freedom. I am an untouchable.
I am proud of what I am. Everybody must know. I am a gypsy!
