It's Not The Fall Force Equation Physics Tshirts
This is our best seller for a reason. Relaxed, tailored and ultra-comfortable, you’ll love the way you look in this durable, reliable classic 100% pre-shrunk cotton (heather gray color is 90% cotton/10% polyester, light heather gray is 98% cotton/2% polyester, heather black is 50% cotton/50% polyester) | Fabric Weight: 5.0 oz (mid-weight) Tip: Buying 2 products or more at the same time will save you quite a lot on shipping fees. You can gift it for mom dad papa mommy daddy mama boyfriend girlfriend grandpa grandma grandfather grandmother husband wife family teacher Its also casual enough to wear for working out shopping running jogging hiking biking or hanging out with friends Unique design personalized design for Valentines day St Patricks day Mothers day Fathers day Birthday More info 53 oz ? pre-shrunk cotton Double-needle stitched neckline bottom hem and sleeves Quarter turned Seven-eighths inch seamless collar Shoulder-to-shoulder taping If you love this shirt, please click on the link to buy it now: My husband is dead I don’t want to remarry shirt The People’s Bodega’s seven or eight regular New York volunteers come from a wide variety of backgrounds—they are artists, film-production workers, restaurant employees, art handlers—but they’re insistent on being thought of as a collective. “We want to promote the idea that anyone can do this,” said Chloe. They’re cryptic about how they find events to attend—“we have our ways”—but they’re a regular presence at protests around the city. Most volunteers attend several within a week and source supplies between donations (which make up 90% of their haul) and regular trips to the Costco in Astoria. The People’s Bodega volunteers are jokey and cheerful as they move through the city, comparing the virtues of Kind bars versus Fruit Roll-Ups and debating new haircuts. But the work they’re doing is undeniably challenging. In addition to the risk of COVID-19 and police intervention, they’re on their feet for hours, attempting to turn crowds of unfamiliar faces into community—using only Costco supplies and goodwill. Ultimately, the People’s Bodega volunteers are aware that their job is to amplify the unheard through physical means of sustenance. I want to give marginalized voices a Ricola and a water and help them yell something that needs to be said,” explained Margaret as the van neared the financial district. As I hopped out and waved my goodbyes, I could hear the group behind me, plotting their next move. Night was falling over New York, but as long as people were still showing up to protest, the People’s Bodega would meet them with supplies and a smile. This year’s Pride month has looked, to put it simply, unlike almost any other. Even a pandemic couldn’t stop LGBTQ+ people and allies for fighting for Black liberation, whether at a massive rally for Black trans lives outside the Brooklyn Museum or a Juneteenth march toward the Manhattan Bridge. (It’s worth noting that there has been no reported spike in COVID-19 cases in cities associated with these protests, possibly in part because much the LGBTQ+ community doesn’t have the luxury of taking good health for granted: nearly every march and rally in New York was a cornucopia of masks and hand sanitizer.) Now the final weekend of Pride month is upon us, with no shortage of socially distanced events planned in New York and around the country. Of course, many revelers will be donating to Black LGBTQ+ fundraisers and organizationsf from home, which is a great way to keep carrying the spirit of this year’s more intersectional Pride celebrations past June. Below, find a roundup of what’s going on this Pride weekend, both in person and virtually. As the Empire State Building was lit up in rainbow to celebrate Pride on the 51st anniversary of the Stonewall riots, LGBTQ+ protesters—many of them queer and trans people of color—were running from police batons on the streets of New York, dabbing pepper spray from their eyes, and frantically texting friends to make sure they were safe. The irony was painful, as was the fundamental message: If you are the right kind of queer in New York, you will be protected and uplifted (to the extent that your identity remains commodifiable). If you deviate from that norm, you will be hunted. This gets to the heart of the fundamentally unequal queer experience in America. If you are white, cis, and socioeconomically privileged, you will be celebrated even as your more marginalized queer siblings are brutalized, and you will be asked to turn a blind eye to their suffering in exchange for the rosy glow of rainbow-hued acceptance. If you are Black, brown, trans, nonbinary, poor, or exist outside of straight-passing, white, cis culture in any way, you will be forced to see your own history put up for sale even as your present struggle—to work, to seek medical treatment, to simply walk down the street—is criminalized. This is how things have been—and how they still often are—but this year queer and trans activists of color provided an alternative vision of Pride in which LGBTQ+ identity was a source of shared outrage and activism, not a branding opportunity for corporations. From a rally for Black trans lives that drew over 15,000 to the Brooklyn Museum to a Dyke March event that reorganized itself as a Juneteenth march, this year’s Pride centered space for the voices that are so often drowned out of the LGBTQ+ movement despite having literally built it. Before the NYPD began its crackdown, the Queer Liberation March was another in a series of peaceful protests in which LGBTQ+ New Yorkers asserted their simple and inalienable right to exist. Soon after officers unleashed their batons and arrested protesters, the skies opened and rain began to pour. In a near-uncanny moment of cosmic timing, a double rainbow then unfurled across New York, a thousand times brighter and more powerful than any lit-up symbol of corporate pride could ever hope to be. This year’s Pride month has looked, to put it simply, unlike almost any other. Even a pandemic couldn’t stop LGBTQ+ people and allies for fighting for Black liberation, whether at a massive rally for Black trans lives outside the Brooklyn Museum or a Juneteenth march toward the Manhattan Bridge. ( Two of its volunteers—Alex and Benham—drive and navigate up front, with Chloe and fellow volunteer Margaret sorting through supplies and plotting out a route in back as the van weaves through Brooklyn protest traffic and into Manhattan. Mutual aid has a long and complex history that dates back to the civil-rights movement, Chloe reminds me as we circle DUMBO. After all, one of the Black Panthers’ main initiatives was providing schoolchildren with free breakfast in a program that started in Oakland, California, and spread around the United States. Now, as America undergoes a long-overdue racial reckoning during a pandemic, more people are beginning to reimagine what it means to be part of a community truly. Do your friends define your community? Do your coworkers? Your neighbors? People you’ve never met? To the People’s Bodega, community is all of that and more. They’re offering what supplies they can to make the ongoing labor of protest easier but also to address New York’s staggering hunger gap. The New York branch of the People’s Bodega has roots in Astoria Mutual Aid and was inspired by a similar initiative in Los Angeles. L.A. organizer Alexandra—a florist by trade who raised more than a thousand dollars for supplies overnight after putting a call out on Instagram—let the New York volunteers borrow the name. “I want people to take the concept for free and use it however is most helpful for their community,” Alexandra said via phone on Monday. Those who haven’t attended protests before might imagine them as chaotic maelstroms of human activity, but in fact they often function as sites of remarkable community care. At the Juneteenth march where I spontaneously joined the People’s Bodega, Dyke March volunteers had wheelchairs at the ready for protesters with limited mobility. As at every protest I’ve covered over the past month, nearly everyone I saw was masked, with Good Samaritans handing out hand sanitizer. (Perhaps not coincidentally, there has been no evidence of a spike in COVID-19 cases associated with protests.) While masks and goggles serve an obvious purpose in minimizing the risk of COVID-19 and police violence at protests, the smaller items that the People’s Bodega volunteers hand out—from bags of Cheez-Its to Chewy bars and ever-present bottles of Gatorade—play their own significant role in helping people feel cared for on a more personal scale. “When people ask ‘How much is this?’ about one of our snacks or PPE items and we respond, ‘No, it’s free, it’s funded by the people,’ it’s incredibly heartwarming,” said Alexandra. Product detail for this product: Fashion field involves the best minds to carefully craft the design. The t-shirt industry is a very competitive field and involves many risks. The cost per t-shirt varies proportionally to the total quantity of t-shirts. We are manufacturing exceptional-quality t-shirts at a very competitive price. We use only the best DTG printers available to produce the finest-quality images possible that won’t wash out of the shirts. Custom orders are always welcome. We can customize all of our designs to your needs! Please feel free to contact us if you have any questions. We accept all major credit cards (Visa, Mastercard, American Express, Discover), PayPal, or prepayment by Check, Money Order, or Bank Wire. For schools, universities, and government organizations, we accept purchase orders and prepayment by check Vist our store at: Abayamzclothing This product belong to trung-van It's Not The Fall Force Equation Physics Tshirts This is our best seller for a reason. Relaxed, tailored and ultra-comfortable, you’ll love the way you look in this durable, reliable classic 100% pre-shrunk cotton (heather gray color is 90% cotton/10% polyester, light heather gray is 98% cotton/2% polyester, heather black is 50% cotton/50% polyester) | Fabric Weight: 5.0 oz (mid-weight) Tip: Buying 2 products or more at the same time will save you quite a lot on shipping fees. You can gift it for mom dad papa mommy daddy mama boyfriend girlfriend grandpa grandma grandfather grandmother husband wife family teacher Its also casual enough to wear for working out shopping running jogging hiking biking or hanging out with friends Unique design personalized design for Valentines day St Patricks day Mothers day Fathers day Birthday More info 53 oz ? pre-shrunk cotton Double-needle stitched neckline bottom hem and sleeves Quarter turned Seven-eighths inch seamless collar Shoulder-to-shoulder taping If you love this shirt, please click on the link to buy it now: My husband is dead I don’t want to remarry shirt The People’s Bodega’s seven or eight regular New York volunteers come from a wide variety of backgrounds—they are artists, film-production workers, restaurant employees, art handlers—but they’re insistent on being thought of as a collective. “We want to promote the idea that anyone can do this,” said Chloe. They’re cryptic about how they find events to attend—“we have our ways”—but they’re a regular presence at protests around the city. Most volunteers attend several within a week and source supplies between donations (which make up 90% of their haul) and regular trips to the Costco in Astoria. The People’s Bodega volunteers are jokey and cheerful as they move through the city, comparing the virtues of Kind bars versus Fruit Roll-Ups and debating new haircuts. But the work they’re doing is undeniably challenging. In addition to the risk of COVID-19 and police intervention, they’re on their feet for hours, attempting to turn crowds of unfamiliar faces into community—using only Costco supplies and goodwill. Ultimately, the People’s Bodega volunteers are aware that their job is to amplify the unheard through physical means of sustenance. I want to give marginalized voices a Ricola and a water and help them yell something that needs to be said,” explained Margaret as the van neared the financial district. As I hopped out and waved my goodbyes, I could hear the group behind me, plotting their next move. Night was falling over New York, but as long as people were still showing up to protest, the People’s Bodega would meet them with supplies and a smile. This year’s Pride month has looked, to put it simply, unlike almost any other. Even a pandemic couldn’t stop LGBTQ+ people and allies for fighting for Black liberation, whether at a massive rally for Black trans lives outside the Brooklyn Museum or a Juneteenth march toward the Manhattan Bridge. (It’s worth noting that there has been no reported spike in COVID-19 cases in cities associated with these protests, possibly in part because much the LGBTQ+ community doesn’t have the luxury of taking good health for granted: nearly every march and rally in New York was a cornucopia of masks and hand sanitizer.) Now the final weekend of Pride month is upon us, with no shortage of socially distanced events planned in New York and around the country. Of course, many revelers will be donating to Black LGBTQ+ fundraisers and organizationsf from home, which is a great way to keep carrying the spirit of this year’s more intersectional Pride celebrations past June. Below, find a roundup of what’s going on this Pride weekend, both in person and virtually. As the Empire State Building was lit up in rainbow to celebrate Pride on the 51st anniversary of the Stonewall riots, LGBTQ+ protesters—many of them queer and trans people of color—were running from police batons on the streets of New York, dabbing pepper spray from their eyes, and frantically texting friends to make sure they were safe. The irony was painful, as was the fundamental message: If you are the right kind of queer in New York, you will be protected and uplifted (to the extent that your identity remains commodifiable). If you deviate from that norm, you will be hunted. This gets to the heart of the fundamentally unequal queer experience in America. If you are white, cis, and socioeconomically privileged, you will be celebrated even as your more marginalized queer siblings are brutalized, and you will be asked to turn a blind eye to their suffering in exchange for the rosy glow of rainbow-hued acceptance. If you are Black, brown, trans, nonbinary, poor, or exist outside of straight-passing, white, cis culture in any way, you will be forced to see your own history put up for sale even as your present struggle—to work, to seek medical treatment, to simply walk down the street—is criminalized. This is how things have been—and how they still often are—but this year queer and trans activists of color provided an alternative vision of Pride in which LGBTQ+ identity was a source of shared outrage and activism, not a branding opportunity for corporations. From a rally for Black trans lives that drew over 15,000 to the Brooklyn Museum to a Dyke March event that reorganized itself as a Juneteenth march, this year’s Pride centered space for the voices that are so often drowned out of the LGBTQ+ movement despite having literally built it. Before the NYPD began its crackdown, the Queer Liberation March was another in a series of peaceful protests in which LGBTQ+ New Yorkers asserted their simple and inalienable right to exist. Soon after officers unleashed their batons and arrested protesters, the skies opened and rain began to pour. In a near-uncanny moment of cosmic timing, a double rainbow then unfurled across New York, a thousand times brighter and more powerful than any lit-up symbol of corporate pride could ever hope to be. This year’s Pride month has looked, to put it simply, unlike almost any other. Even a pandemic couldn’t stop LGBTQ+ people and allies for fighting for Black liberation, whether at a massive rally for Black trans lives outside the Brooklyn Museum or a Juneteenth march toward the Manhattan Bridge. ( Two of its volunteers—Alex and Benham—drive and navigate up front, with Chloe and fellow volunteer Margaret sorting through supplies and plotting out a route in back as the van weaves through Brooklyn protest traffic and into Manhattan. Mutual aid has a long and complex history that dates back to the civil-rights movement, Chloe reminds me as we circle DUMBO. After all, one of the Black Panthers’ main initiatives was providing schoolchildren with free breakfast in a program that started in Oakland, California, and spread around the United States. Now, as America undergoes a long-overdue racial reckoning during a pandemic, more people are beginning to reimagine what it means to be part of a community truly. Do your friends define your community? Do your coworkers? Your neighbors? People you’ve never met? To the People’s Bodega, community is all of that and more. They’re offering what supplies they can to make the ongoing labor of protest easier but also to address New York’s staggering hunger gap. The New York branch of the People’s Bodega has roots in Astoria Mutual Aid and was inspired by a similar initiative in Los Angeles. L.A. organizer Alexandra—a florist by trade who raised more than a thousand dollars for supplies overnight after putting a call out on Instagram—let the New York volunteers borrow the name. “I want people to take the concept for free and use it however is most helpful for their community,” Alexandra said via phone on Monday. Those who haven’t attended protests before might imagine them as chaotic maelstroms of human activity, but in fact they often function as sites of remarkable community care. At the Juneteenth march where I spontaneously joined the People’s Bodega, Dyke March volunteers had wheelchairs at the ready for protesters with limited mobility. As at every protest I’ve covered over the past month, nearly everyone I saw was masked, with Good Samaritans handing out hand sanitizer. (Perhaps not coincidentally, there has been no evidence of a spike in COVID-19 cases associated with protests.) While masks and goggles serve an obvious purpose in minimizing the risk of COVID-19 and police violence at protests, the smaller items that the People’s Bodega volunteers hand out—from bags of Cheez-Its to Chewy bars and ever-present bottles of Gatorade—play their own significant role in helping people feel cared for on a more personal scale. “When people ask ‘How much is this?’ about one of our snacks or PPE items and we respond, ‘No, it’s free, it’s funded by the people,’ it’s incredibly heartwarming,” said Alexandra. Product detail for this product: Fashion field involves the best minds to carefully craft the design. The t-shirt industry is a very competitive field and involves many risks. The cost per t-shirt varies proportionally to the total quantity of t-shirts. We are manufacturing exceptional-quality t-shirts at a very competitive price. We use only the best DTG printers available to produce the finest-quality images possible that won’t wash out of the shirts. Custom orders are always welcome. We can customize all of our designs to your needs! Please feel free to contact us if you have any questions. We accept all major credit cards (Visa, Mastercard, American Express, Discover), PayPal, or prepayment by Check, Money Order, or Bank Wire. For schools, universities, and government organizations, we accept purchase orders and prepayment by check Vist our store at: Abayamzclothing This product belong to trung-van
This is our best seller for a reason. Relaxed, tailored and ultra-comfortable, you’ll love the way you look in this durable, reliable classic 100% pre-shrunk cotton (heather gray color is 90% cotton/10% polyester, light heather gray is 98% cotton/2% polyester, heather black is 50% cotton/50% polyester) | Fabric Weight: 5.0 oz (mid-weight) Tip: Buying 2 products or more at the same time will save you quite a lot on shipping fees. You can gift it for mom dad papa mommy daddy mama boyfriend girlfriend grandpa grandma grandfather grandmother husband wife family teacher Its also casual enough to wear for working out shopping running jogging hiking biking or hanging out with friends Unique design personalized design for Valentines day St Patricks day Mothers day Fathers day Birthday More info 53 oz ? pre-shrunk cotton Double-needle stitched neckline bottom hem and sleeves Quarter turned Seven-eighths inch seamless collar Shoulder-to-shoulder taping If you love this shirt, please click on the link to buy it now: My husband is dead I don’t want to remarry shirt The People’s Bodega’s seven or eight regular New York volunteers come from a wide variety of backgrounds—they are artists, film-production workers, restaurant employees, art handlers—but they’re insistent on being thought of as a collective. “We want to promote the idea that anyone can do this,” said Chloe. They’re cryptic about how they find events to attend—“we have our ways”—but they’re a regular presence at protests around the city. Most volunteers attend several within a week and source supplies between donations (which make up 90% of their haul) and regular trips to the Costco in Astoria. The People’s Bodega volunteers are jokey and cheerful as they move through the city, comparing the virtues of Kind bars versus Fruit Roll-Ups and debating new haircuts. But the work they’re doing is undeniably challenging. In addition to the risk of COVID-19 and police intervention, they’re on their feet for hours, attempting to turn crowds of unfamiliar faces into community—using only Costco supplies and goodwill. Ultimately, the People’s Bodega volunteers are aware that their job is to amplify the unheard through physical means of sustenance. I want to give marginalized voices a Ricola and a water and help them yell something that needs to be said,” explained Margaret as the van neared the financial district. As I hopped out and waved my goodbyes, I could hear the group behind me, plotting their next move. Night was falling over New York, but as long as people were still showing up to protest, the People’s Bodega would meet them with supplies and a smile. This year’s Pride month has looked, to put it simply, unlike almost any other. Even a pandemic couldn’t stop LGBTQ+ people and allies for fighting for Black liberation, whether at a massive rally for Black trans lives outside the Brooklyn Museum or a Juneteenth march toward the Manhattan Bridge. (It’s worth noting that there has been no reported spike in COVID-19 cases in cities associated with these protests, possibly in part because much the LGBTQ+ community doesn’t have the luxury of taking good health for granted: nearly every march and rally in New York was a cornucopia of masks and hand sanitizer.) Now the final weekend of Pride month is upon us, with no shortage of socially distanced events planned in New York and around the country. Of course, many revelers will be donating to Black LGBTQ+ fundraisers and organizationsf from home, which is a great way to keep carrying the spirit of this year’s more intersectional Pride celebrations past June. Below, find a roundup of what’s going on this Pride weekend, both in person and virtually. As the Empire State Building was lit up in rainbow to celebrate Pride on the 51st anniversary of the Stonewall riots, LGBTQ+ protesters—many of them queer and trans people of color—were running from police batons on the streets of New York, dabbing pepper spray from their eyes, and frantically texting friends to make sure they were safe. The irony was painful, as was the fundamental message: If you are the right kind of queer in New York, you will be protected and uplifted (to the extent that your identity remains commodifiable). If you deviate from that norm, you will be hunted. This gets to the heart of the fundamentally unequal queer experience in America. If you are white, cis, and socioeconomically privileged, you will be celebrated even as your more marginalized queer siblings are brutalized, and you will be asked to turn a blind eye to their suffering in exchange for the rosy glow of rainbow-hued acceptance. If you are Black, brown, trans, nonbinary, poor, or exist outside of straight-passing, white, cis culture in any way, you will be forced to see your own history put up for sale even as your present struggle—to work, to seek medical treatment, to simply walk down the street—is criminalized. This is how things have been—and how they still often are—but this year queer and trans activists of color provided an alternative vision of Pride in which LGBTQ+ identity was a source of shared outrage and activism, not a branding opportunity for corporations. From a rally for Black trans lives that drew over 15,000 to the Brooklyn Museum to a Dyke March event that reorganized itself as a Juneteenth march, this year’s Pride centered space for the voices that are so often drowned out of the LGBTQ+ movement despite having literally built it. Before the NYPD began its crackdown, the Queer Liberation March was another in a series of peaceful protests in which LGBTQ+ New Yorkers asserted their simple and inalienable right to exist. Soon after officers unleashed their batons and arrested protesters, the skies opened and rain began to pour. In a near-uncanny moment of cosmic timing, a double rainbow then unfurled across New York, a thousand times brighter and more powerful than any lit-up symbol of corporate pride could ever hope to be. This year’s Pride month has looked, to put it simply, unlike almost any other. Even a pandemic couldn’t stop LGBTQ+ people and allies for fighting for Black liberation, whether at a massive rally for Black trans lives outside the Brooklyn Museum or a Juneteenth march toward the Manhattan Bridge. ( Two of its volunteers—Alex and Benham—drive and navigate up front, with Chloe and fellow volunteer Margaret sorting through supplies and plotting out a route in back as the van weaves through Brooklyn protest traffic and into Manhattan. Mutual aid has a long and complex history that dates back to the civil-rights movement, Chloe reminds me as we circle DUMBO. After all, one of the Black Panthers’ main initiatives was providing schoolchildren with free breakfast in a program that started in Oakland, California, and spread around the United States. Now, as America undergoes a long-overdue racial reckoning during a pandemic, more people are beginning to reimagine what it means to be part of a community truly. Do your friends define your community? Do your coworkers? Your neighbors? People you’ve never met? To the People’s Bodega, community is all of that and more. They’re offering what supplies they can to make the ongoing labor of protest easier but also to address New York’s staggering hunger gap. The New York branch of the People’s Bodega has roots in Astoria Mutual Aid and was inspired by a similar initiative in Los Angeles. L.A. organizer Alexandra—a florist by trade who raised more than a thousand dollars for supplies overnight after putting a call out on Instagram—let the New York volunteers borrow the name. “I want people to take the concept for free and use it however is most helpful for their community,” Alexandra said via phone on Monday. Those who haven’t attended protests before might imagine them as chaotic maelstroms of human activity, but in fact they often function as sites of remarkable community care. At the Juneteenth march where I spontaneously joined the People’s Bodega, Dyke March volunteers had wheelchairs at the ready for protesters with limited mobility. As at every protest I’ve covered over the past month, nearly everyone I saw was masked, with Good Samaritans handing out hand sanitizer. (Perhaps not coincidentally, there has been no evidence of a spike in COVID-19 cases associated with protests.) While masks and goggles serve an obvious purpose in minimizing the risk of COVID-19 and police violence at protests, the smaller items that the People’s Bodega volunteers hand out—from bags of Cheez-Its to Chewy bars and ever-present bottles of Gatorade—play their own significant role in helping people feel cared for on a more personal scale. “When people ask ‘How much is this?’ about one of our snacks or PPE items and we respond, ‘No, it’s free, it’s funded by the people,’ it’s incredibly heartwarming,” said Alexandra. Product detail for this product: Fashion field involves the best minds to carefully craft the design. The t-shirt industry is a very competitive field and involves many risks. The cost per t-shirt varies proportionally to the total quantity of t-shirts. We are manufacturing exceptional-quality t-shirts at a very competitive price. We use only the best DTG printers available to produce the finest-quality images possible that won’t wash out of the shirts. Custom orders are always welcome. We can customize all of our designs to your needs! Please feel free to contact us if you have any questions. We accept all major credit cards (Visa, Mastercard, American Express, Discover), PayPal, or prepayment by Check, Money Order, or Bank Wire. For schools, universities, and government organizations, we accept purchase orders and prepayment by check Vist our store at: Abayamzclothing This product belong to trung-van It's Not The Fall Force Equation Physics Tshirts This is our best seller for a reason. Relaxed, tailored and ultra-comfortable, you’ll love the way you look in this durable, reliable classic 100% pre-shrunk cotton (heather gray color is 90% cotton/10% polyester, light heather gray is 98% cotton/2% polyester, heather black is 50% cotton/50% polyester) | Fabric Weight: 5.0 oz (mid-weight) Tip: Buying 2 products or more at the same time will save you quite a lot on shipping fees. You can gift it for mom dad papa mommy daddy mama boyfriend girlfriend grandpa grandma grandfather grandmother husband wife family teacher Its also casual enough to wear for working out shopping running jogging hiking biking or hanging out with friends Unique design personalized design for Valentines day St Patricks day Mothers day Fathers day Birthday More info 53 oz ? pre-shrunk cotton Double-needle stitched neckline bottom hem and sleeves Quarter turned Seven-eighths inch seamless collar Shoulder-to-shoulder taping If you love this shirt, please click on the link to buy it now: My husband is dead I don’t want to remarry shirt The People’s Bodega’s seven or eight regular New York volunteers come from a wide variety of backgrounds—they are artists, film-production workers, restaurant employees, art handlers—but they’re insistent on being thought of as a collective. “We want to promote the idea that anyone can do this,” said Chloe. They’re cryptic about how they find events to attend—“we have our ways”—but they’re a regular presence at protests around the city. Most volunteers attend several within a week and source supplies between donations (which make up 90% of their haul) and regular trips to the Costco in Astoria. The People’s Bodega volunteers are jokey and cheerful as they move through the city, comparing the virtues of Kind bars versus Fruit Roll-Ups and debating new haircuts. But the work they’re doing is undeniably challenging. In addition to the risk of COVID-19 and police intervention, they’re on their feet for hours, attempting to turn crowds of unfamiliar faces into community—using only Costco supplies and goodwill. Ultimately, the People’s Bodega volunteers are aware that their job is to amplify the unheard through physical means of sustenance. I want to give marginalized voices a Ricola and a water and help them yell something that needs to be said,” explained Margaret as the van neared the financial district. As I hopped out and waved my goodbyes, I could hear the group behind me, plotting their next move. Night was falling over New York, but as long as people were still showing up to protest, the People’s Bodega would meet them with supplies and a smile. This year’s Pride month has looked, to put it simply, unlike almost any other. Even a pandemic couldn’t stop LGBTQ+ people and allies for fighting for Black liberation, whether at a massive rally for Black trans lives outside the Brooklyn Museum or a Juneteenth march toward the Manhattan Bridge. (It’s worth noting that there has been no reported spike in COVID-19 cases in cities associated with these protests, possibly in part because much the LGBTQ+ community doesn’t have the luxury of taking good health for granted: nearly every march and rally in New York was a cornucopia of masks and hand sanitizer.) Now the final weekend of Pride month is upon us, with no shortage of socially distanced events planned in New York and around the country. Of course, many revelers will be donating to Black LGBTQ+ fundraisers and organizationsf from home, which is a great way to keep carrying the spirit of this year’s more intersectional Pride celebrations past June. Below, find a roundup of what’s going on this Pride weekend, both in person and virtually. As the Empire State Building was lit up in rainbow to celebrate Pride on the 51st anniversary of the Stonewall riots, LGBTQ+ protesters—many of them queer and trans people of color—were running from police batons on the streets of New York, dabbing pepper spray from their eyes, and frantically texting friends to make sure they were safe. The irony was painful, as was the fundamental message: If you are the right kind of queer in New York, you will be protected and uplifted (to the extent that your identity remains commodifiable). If you deviate from that norm, you will be hunted. This gets to the heart of the fundamentally unequal queer experience in America. If you are white, cis, and socioeconomically privileged, you will be celebrated even as your more marginalized queer siblings are brutalized, and you will be asked to turn a blind eye to their suffering in exchange for the rosy glow of rainbow-hued acceptance. If you are Black, brown, trans, nonbinary, poor, or exist outside of straight-passing, white, cis culture in any way, you will be forced to see your own history put up for sale even as your present struggle—to work, to seek medical treatment, to simply walk down the street—is criminalized. This is how things have been—and how they still often are—but this year queer and trans activists of color provided an alternative vision of Pride in which LGBTQ+ identity was a source of shared outrage and activism, not a branding opportunity for corporations. From a rally for Black trans lives that drew over 15,000 to the Brooklyn Museum to a Dyke March event that reorganized itself as a Juneteenth march, this year’s Pride centered space for the voices that are so often drowned out of the LGBTQ+ movement despite having literally built it. Before the NYPD began its crackdown, the Queer Liberation March was another in a series of peaceful protests in which LGBTQ+ New Yorkers asserted their simple and inalienable right to exist. Soon after officers unleashed their batons and arrested protesters, the skies opened and rain began to pour. In a near-uncanny moment of cosmic timing, a double rainbow then unfurled across New York, a thousand times brighter and more powerful than any lit-up symbol of corporate pride could ever hope to be. This year’s Pride month has looked, to put it simply, unlike almost any other. Even a pandemic couldn’t stop LGBTQ+ people and allies for fighting for Black liberation, whether at a massive rally for Black trans lives outside the Brooklyn Museum or a Juneteenth march toward the Manhattan Bridge. ( Two of its volunteers—Alex and Benham—drive and navigate up front, with Chloe and fellow volunteer Margaret sorting through supplies and plotting out a route in back as the van weaves through Brooklyn protest traffic and into Manhattan. Mutual aid has a long and complex history that dates back to the civil-rights movement, Chloe reminds me as we circle DUMBO. After all, one of the Black Panthers’ main initiatives was providing schoolchildren with free breakfast in a program that started in Oakland, California, and spread around the United States. Now, as America undergoes a long-overdue racial reckoning during a pandemic, more people are beginning to reimagine what it means to be part of a community truly. Do your friends define your community? Do your coworkers? Your neighbors? People you’ve never met? To the People’s Bodega, community is all of that and more. They’re offering what supplies they can to make the ongoing labor of protest easier but also to address New York’s staggering hunger gap. The New York branch of the People’s Bodega has roots in Astoria Mutual Aid and was inspired by a similar initiative in Los Angeles. L.A. organizer Alexandra—a florist by trade who raised more than a thousand dollars for supplies overnight after putting a call out on Instagram—let the New York volunteers borrow the name. “I want people to take the concept for free and use it however is most helpful for their community,” Alexandra said via phone on Monday. Those who haven’t attended protests before might imagine them as chaotic maelstroms of human activity, but in fact they often function as sites of remarkable community care. At the Juneteenth march where I spontaneously joined the People’s Bodega, Dyke March volunteers had wheelchairs at the ready for protesters with limited mobility. As at every protest I’ve covered over the past month, nearly everyone I saw was masked, with Good Samaritans handing out hand sanitizer. (Perhaps not coincidentally, there has been no evidence of a spike in COVID-19 cases associated with protests.) While masks and goggles serve an obvious purpose in minimizing the risk of COVID-19 and police violence at protests, the smaller items that the People’s Bodega volunteers hand out—from bags of Cheez-Its to Chewy bars and ever-present bottles of Gatorade—play their own significant role in helping people feel cared for on a more personal scale. “When people ask ‘How much is this?’ about one of our snacks or PPE items and we respond, ‘No, it’s free, it’s funded by the people,’ it’s incredibly heartwarming,” said Alexandra. Product detail for this product: Fashion field involves the best minds to carefully craft the design. The t-shirt industry is a very competitive field and involves many risks. The cost per t-shirt varies proportionally to the total quantity of t-shirts. We are manufacturing exceptional-quality t-shirts at a very competitive price. We use only the best DTG printers available to produce the finest-quality images possible that won’t wash out of the shirts. Custom orders are always welcome. We can customize all of our designs to your needs! Please feel free to contact us if you have any questions. We accept all major credit cards (Visa, Mastercard, American Express, Discover), PayPal, or prepayment by Check, Money Order, or Bank Wire. For schools, universities, and government organizations, we accept purchase orders and prepayment by check Vist our store at: Abayamzclothing This product belong to trung-van
See more: https://nineliveapparel.info/its-not-the-fall-force-equation-physics-tshirts/
No comments:
Post a Comment