news
(or “blog”, “musings”, “writings”)
1. “im forever grateful for the people who showed me BROCKHAMPTON.“ and also “rage, from a second generation immigrant.”
i remember it was my day off and i got invited to go to the tiny nearby town and spend the day with people who i genuinely loved and respected and admired, which was hard to come by when you're working at a tiny Christian (capital ‘C’) camp, complete with its dirt roads and treacherous paths. plus some derogatory, racist name-calling, and also its very own tuck shop!
we were pulling out of the property when GOLD by BROCKHAMPTON came on and one of my friends turned to me from the front seat and said “hey lucy don’t tell anyone that we listen to this music” and then turned it all the way up.
it was chock full of the most explicit lyrics,
(“She grind on my dick like a hundred times
Shawty love me long when I grip her sides
And slip inside like a Slip 'N Slide
My electric eel do electric slide” )
but it was the grooviest, most disgusting beat i'd ever heard.
we then goofed off around town: i put my name down for a silent auction for a vintage polaroid camera (and lost), bought a puzzle where you had to solve a mystery to complete it (revolutionary idea), got my septum pierced, and we ended up at a wimpy's diner where somehow, the jukebox at the table still worked.
my friend took some photos of me and i posted them on instagram, and i hated how i looked.
earlier that summer some of the other counsellors had suggested calling me “yellow”, “chopsticks”, or “noodles”, as ‘joke’ camp names for me.
one of them proceeded to pull their eyelids flat and said something about “owning a chinese restaurant and serving noodles with chopsticks” to my face in a terrible asian accent.
my friend had to tell me later that the reason it made me violently uncomfortable was because “those guys are racist assholes”.
i had never been put in a situation like that before. fuck them for making me cry.
i posted this story to instagram years later, i’m still so embarrassed thinking about it.
i guess im still looking for retribution
and im still learning how to let things go.
it sucks that they dont teach these things
and it sucks that people have to be such asses.
it sucks that i’m the one dealing with the repercussions
that the rest of these people,
(people who begged the only black counsellor to sign off on a handmade ‘n’ word pass so that they could run into the middle of the field at 3 am to scream the slur - hard ‘r’ - in unison at the top of their lungs, people who made jokes about my ethnicity to my face until i got so uncomfortable fake laughing that i had to leave the room to cry, people who slingshotted a seagull in the skull over and over again until it finally fucking died of head trauma)
that these people are off just living their sheltered, privileged, evil little lives while preaching their supposed gospel. but aren't christians supposed to lead with love? aren't we supposed to love our neighbours since we are all god's children? correct me if i’m wrong, but i don’t think you’re supposed to say slurs or murder animals lest you not be welcomed into the kingdom of heaven?
im getting a migraine.
that day off was the break i desperately needed, and im still obsessed with brockhampton to this day.
and if any of my fellow camp counsellors are reading this,
i forgive you,
we were pulling out of the property when GOLD by BROCKHAMPTON came on and one of my friends turned to me from the front seat and said “hey lucy don’t tell anyone that we listen to this music” and then turned it all the way up.
it was chock full of the most explicit lyrics,
(“She grind on my dick like a hundred times
Shawty love me long when I grip her sides
And slip inside like a Slip 'N Slide
My electric eel do electric slide” )
but it was the grooviest, most disgusting beat i'd ever heard.
we then goofed off around town: i put my name down for a silent auction for a vintage polaroid camera (and lost), bought a puzzle where you had to solve a mystery to complete it (revolutionary idea), got my septum pierced, and we ended up at a wimpy's diner where somehow, the jukebox at the table still worked.
my friend took some photos of me and i posted them on instagram, and i hated how i looked.
earlier that summer some of the other counsellors had suggested calling me “yellow”, “chopsticks”, or “noodles”, as ‘joke’ camp names for me.
one of them proceeded to pull their eyelids flat and said something about “owning a chinese restaurant and serving noodles with chopsticks” to my face in a terrible asian accent.
my friend had to tell me later that the reason it made me violently uncomfortable was because “those guys are racist assholes”.
i had never been put in a situation like that before. fuck them for making me cry.
i posted this story to instagram years later, i’m still so embarrassed thinking about it.
i guess im still looking for retribution
and im still learning how to let things go.
it sucks that they dont teach these things
and it sucks that people have to be such asses.
it sucks that i’m the one dealing with the repercussions
that the rest of these people,
(people who begged the only black counsellor to sign off on a handmade ‘n’ word pass so that they could run into the middle of the field at 3 am to scream the slur - hard ‘r’ - in unison at the top of their lungs, people who made jokes about my ethnicity to my face until i got so uncomfortable fake laughing that i had to leave the room to cry, people who slingshotted a seagull in the skull over and over again until it finally fucking died of head trauma)
that these people are off just living their sheltered, privileged, evil little lives while preaching their supposed gospel. but aren't christians supposed to lead with love? aren't we supposed to love our neighbours since we are all god's children? correct me if i’m wrong, but i don’t think you’re supposed to say slurs or murder animals lest you not be welcomed into the kingdom of heaven?
im getting a migraine.
that day off was the break i desperately needed, and im still obsessed with brockhampton to this day.
and if any of my fellow camp counsellors are reading this,
i forgive you,
because that’s the godly thing to do.
( “I took some steps to be a bigger person
I should've thrown you off the highway to cause swerving
Ain't no burden, ain't no sermon, ain't no motherfuckin' plaque
I hate these hospitals and police and the smell of death, all that
I hate these shady folk that want a ladylike
But don't treat lady right, but they be sayin' like "just the tip"
And, yeah, you mad 'cause she ain't fuck, mad 'cause she ain't suck
Beat your ass before you got time to say "why not?"
Here to catch ya slip up, wish you could just rewind
Time to not fuck up, thought you were just lucked up
Where the respect? Is your ass human?
I look you in your eyes, say "fuck you, are you fuckin' stupid?"
Respect my mother, 'spect my sister, 'spect these women, boy
I get my 99, I don't own one, hit the store to blow your brains off
Better hope my aim off
Better hope the range off
Better hope my tame off
Before I blow your brains off, boy”
- Matt Champion. JUNKY, BROCKHAMPTON. )