Savannah Jane

WVU student attempting a double major in International Studies and Geography. Too many interests to categorize, but I love it all. Love blossoms where it is planted <3
Recent Tweets @
We need women who are so strong they can be gentle, so educated they can be humble, so fierce they can be compassionate, so passionate they can be rational, and so disciplined they can be free.
Kavita Ramdas (via gettingahealthybody)

(via gettingahealthybody)

shewillmove-mountains:

this is literally what it’s like to be 21

(via perpetual-lies)

huffingtonpost:

Portraits Of Boston Marathon survivors see runners returning to the finish line to look back. See more of these inspiring photos here. 

Photographer Robert X. Fogarty of Dear World, a message-on-skin photography project, prepared the portraits of the survivors.

(via inlyricsandpages)

robemmy:

Hypocrisy

(via luiseando)

starfleetinginterest:

what if the coins you find randomly at the bottom of drawers and in between couch cushions are actually from spiders trying to pay rent

(via ohmollypop)

nos3bleeds:

Ok so i don’t know how many of you saw my embroidery set from last year showing women in film statistics, but to tie in with International Women’s day over on Screenqueens and the learning I’ve done in the past year, I’ve added a couple more. 

(via lacigreen)

I JUST BOUGHT TWO TICKETS TO SEE FLEETWOOD MAC IN WASHINGTON DC ON HALLOWEEN NIGHT ON A FRIDAY 

1920s Dresses (via)

(via vintagegal)

policymic:

Courageous women speak out against corrective rape

Grace Brown has photographed hundreds of survivors and received submissions from thousands more since starting Project Unbreakable in October 2011. Her images document the threatening, demeaning and downright misguided comments that sexual abusers use to torment and subdue their victims.

Some pictures capture a particularly haunting aspect of sexual victimization: so-called “corrective rape,” a hate crime used against LGBT people as punishment or in the belief that forcing them to have heterosexual sex will “cure” them of their homosexuality.

Read moreFollow policymic

(via liquorinthefront)

sweet-deer:

aunteeblazer:

groudon:

i like this but i don’t fully understand it…

whoa

you don’t understand how sad this is. each adult is a cross, and each child has been crucified by said cross. 

  • the priest (i assume he’s a priest, correct me if i’m wrong) killed the little boy in one way or another, probably rape, which is common among corrupted clergy men. 
  • the tourist comes to an overcrowded, poverty stricken country, taking up any and all resources that could have gone to the little native girl
  • the soldier comes to fight for his country, but ends up killing the innocent girl, probably in her village.
  • the little boy dies under the doctor’s knife
  • the man kills the little girl in a school shooting (represented with the uniform)
  • the “fat” kid is killed by obesity caused by a fast food epidemic in america, most commonly mcdonald’s, shown by ronald mcdonald himself. 

this is /haunting/ to look at. children can die at anyone’s hand. even the “heros”

(via toalltheirown)

wetheurban:

SPOTLIGHT: Emoji-nation by Nastya Nudnik

Sometimes, and it happens very rarely, something spectacular from our collective history clashes dramatically with a piece of nuanced pop culture. Today, one of these fantastic things came to us in the form of this collection of viral images.

Read More

(via narcissvs)


Lauren Cohan and Steven Yeun photographed by Mark Williams and Sara Hirakawa

Lauren Cohan and Steven Yeun photographed by Mark Williams and Sara Hirakawa

(via housewifeswag)

After learning my flight was detained 4 hours,
I heard the announcement:
If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic,
Please come to the gate immediately.

Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress,
Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly.
Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her
Problem? we told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she
Did this.

I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly.
Shu dow-a, shu- biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick,
Sho bit se-wee?

The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—
She stopped crying.

She thought our flight had been canceled entirely.
She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the
Following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late,

Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him.
We called her son and I spoke with him in English.
I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and
Would ride next to her—Southwest.

She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it.

Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and
Found out of course they had ten shared friends.

Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian
Poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours.

She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering
Questions.

She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered
Sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—
And was offering them to all the women at the gate.

To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a
Sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California,
The lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same
Powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies.

And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—
Non-alcoholic—and the two little girls for our flight, one African
American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice
And lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar too.

And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—
Had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing,

With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always
Carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.

And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought,
This is the world I want to live in. The shared world.

Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped
—has seemed apprehensive about any other person.

They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too.
This can still happen anywhere.

Not everything is lost.

Naomi Shihab Nye (b. 1952), “Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal.” I think this poem may be making the rounds, this week, but that’s as it should be.  (via oliviacirce)

When I lose hope in the world, I remember this poem.

(via bookoisseur)

I’m really glad I read that.

(via selfesteampunk)

(via staythatswhatimeanttosay)