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Quote by Mikki Kendall

“[Rape is framed] as something that a potential victim can prevent if they learn the steps of this peculiar dance that is trying to avoid being possibly assaulted, the immediate response is often one of several questions ranging from “What were you wearing?” to “Why were you there?” to “Had you been drinking?” The answers to those questions can never be relevant — ultimately victims are assaulted because someone chose to attack them. Instead of tips on how not to be a rapist, how to teach people not to rape, or even on creating therapeutic outlets for potential rapists, we find a half dozen tips on preventing a mythical stranger from raping an able-bodied, alert, physically fit person with excellent reflexes and an exceptional amount of luck. These tips never address disability, differences in flight-or-flight (or freeze) adrenaline responses, or even the reality that most assailants are known to their victims.”

Quote by Mikki Kendall

Work

Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women That a Movement Forgot

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Mikki Kendall

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“Gradually the idea for a book began to take shape. It was to be a wildly ambitious and intolerant work, a kind of 'Anatomy of Restlessness' that would enlarge on Pascal's dictum about the man sitting quietly in a room. The argument, roughly, was as follows: that in becoming human, man had acquired, together with his straight legs and striding walk, a migratory 'drive' or instinct to walk long distances through the seasons; that this 'drive' was inseparable from his central nervous system; and, that, when warped in conditions of settlement, it found outlets in violence, greed, status-seeking or a mania for the new. This would explain why mobile societies such as the gypsies were egalitarian, thing-free and resistant to change; also why, to re-establish the harmony of the First State, all the great teachers - Buddha, Lao-tse, St Francis - had set the perpetual pilgrimage at the heart of their message and told their disciples, literally, to follow The Way.”

“It was a question that had always haunted me and yet I could never answer it unequivocally. “Where are you from?” Why do people always ask this? What exactly do they expect to hear? They probably want to define a certain cultural frame of reference for themselves, and accordingly, place me in one of their pre-existing templates. This will allow us to carry on a conversation comfortably, but why does everyone think you want to go through this interrogation over and over again?”

“Стори й се ненадейно, че в самия му край, най на юг, там, където небето и земята се сливат в съвършена линия, я очаква нещо, неподозирано досега, което обаче винаги й бе липсвало. В превалящия следобед светлината бавно се разливаше: от кристална се превръщаше в течна. И едновременно в сърцето на една жена, съвсем случайно попаднала тук, възелът, затяган от годините, навика и скуката, постепенно се разхлабваше. Тя гледаше стана на чергарите. Дори не бе зървала обитателите му, между черните шатри нищо не помръдваше, а мисълта й оставаше прикована в тях, в тези хора, чието съществуване й бе почти неизвестно до днес. Шепа народ, без постоянен дом, те бродеха по необятната шир, разкрита пред погледа й - незначителна част от още по-огромни пространства, проснали главоломните си разстояния на юг чак до онази далечна точка, където най-сетне първата река опложда джунглата. Откак свят светува, те се скитат неуморно върху сухата, до кости оглозгана земя на тази невлизаща в никакви мерки страна: нищо не притежават, но и на никого не се подчиняват, дрипави и свободни господари на необикновено царство. Жанин не знаеше защо тази мисъл я изпълва с тъга, толкова сладка и необхватна, че очите й се затваряха. Знаеше само, че това царство открай време й е било обещано, но тя никога не ще го притежава - никога, освен може би в неуловимия миг, когато наново разтвори очи към внезапно замрялото небе, към застиналите потоци светлина, и шумовете на арабския град рязко замлъкнат. Стори й се, че в същия този миг ходът на света е спрял и отсега нататък никой няма да остарява, нито да умира. Животът бе спрял навсякъде освен в нейното сърце, където някой плачеше от възторг.”