The ultimate dad joke compilation
Reblog for “Robeneros”
Mr Rogers Facts.
I never actually watched Mr. Rogers
But it sounds like the world needs more people like him.
I grew up watching him and can only say that his passing was one of the darkest days to me. Things seemed colder, crueler, and more harsh.
But then and now, remembering the kind words he always spoke helps to keep me smiling and humming/whistling a song as I continue on.
May he rest peacefully for a job well done.
As I’m walking through Target with my little sister, the kid somehow manages to convince me to take a trip down the doll aisle. I know the type - brands that preach diversity through displays of nine different variations of white and maybe a black girl if you’re lucky enough. What I instead found as soon as I turned into the aisle were these two boxes.
The girl on the left is Shola, an Afghani girl from Kabul with war-torn eyes. Her biography on the inside flap tells us that “her country has been at war since before she was born”, and all she has left of her family is her older sister. They’re part of a circus, the one source of light in their lives, and they read the Qur’an. She wears a hijab.
The girl on the right is Nahji, a ten-year-old Indian girl from Assam, where “young girls are forced to work and get married at a very early age”. Nahji is smart, admirable, extremely studious. She teaches her fellow girls to believe in themselves. In the left side of her nose, as tradition mandates, she has a piercing. On her right hand is a henna tattoo.
As a Pakistani girl growing up in post-9/11 America, this is so important to me. The closest thing we had to these back in my day were “customizable” American Girl dolls, who were very strictly white or black. My eyes are green, my hair was black, and my skin is brown, and I couldn’t find my reflection in any of those girls. Yet I settled, just like I settled for the terrorist jokes boys would throw at me, like I settled for the butchered pronunciations of names of mine and my friends’ countries. I settled for a white doll, who at least had my eyes if nothing else, and I named her Rabeea and loved her. But I still couldn’t completely connect to her.
My little sister, who had been the one to push me down the aisle in the first place, stopped to stare with me at the girls. And then the words, “Maybe they can be my American Girls,” slipped out of her mouth. This young girl, barely represented in today’s society, finally found a doll that looks like her, that wears the weird headscarf that her grandma does and still manages to look beautiful.
I turned the dolls’ boxes around and snapped a picture of the back of Nahji’s. There are more that I didn’t see in the store; a Belarusian, an Ethiopian, a Brazilian, a Laotian, a Native American, a Mexican. And more.
These are Hearts 4 Hearts dolls, and while they haven’t yet reached all parts of the world (I think they have yet to come out with an East Asian girl), they need all the support they can get so we can have a beautiful doll for every beautiful young girl, so we can give them what our generation never had.
Please don’t let this die. If you know a young girl, get her one. I know I’m buying Shola and Nahji for my little sister’s next birthday, because she needs a doll with beautiful brown skin like hers, a doll who wears a hijab like our older sister, a doll who wears real henna, not the blue shit white girls get at the beach.
The Hearts 4 Hearts girls are so important. Don’t overlook them. Don’t underestimate them. These can be the future if we let them.
You can read more about the dolls here: http://www.playmatestoys.com/brands/hearts-for-hearts-girls
This is the most amazing thing! Little sisters heck! Have you got nieces, granddaughters, cousins, daughters? Not only girls of color can benefit by having dolls like these, but white girls who are growing up in a world of color!
THIS IS IMPORTANT!
Yesterday, I went to Disneyland. Apparently, at their Innovations building, there is a HUGE Avengers exhibit, complete with appearances by Captain America and Thor. Naturally, I ran screaming into said building, camera at the ready. After falling on the ground in front of the array of Iron Man suits and bursting into tears at the Steve Rogers exhibit (exactly like the Smithsonian one in TWS) I got in line to meet the Star-Spangled Man. (The workers were all awesome, they loved that I was such a nerd and so unbelievably excited to meet the Captain.)
My purse has a large Doctor Who pin on it, (not pictured) and the camera man for Steve pointed at it, looked at Cap, and was like “Look at this, it says something about she’s a Doctor?” and Cap points at it and goes "Oh, that looks like a blue police box!" so I said, (I was speechless guys I literally am such a dweeb) "It is." and he said "When I was in England doing an Op in 1942, I was stuck in a burning building and a man named John Smith pulled me out of the building, and then ran into a blue police box just like that and disappeared. Do you know if this has anything to do with that?"
I DON’T EVEN REMEMBER WHAT I SAID IN RESPONSE. YOU GUYS. THE CAPTAIN AMERICA AT DISNEYLAND WATCHES DOCTOR WHO. HARDCORE REFERENCED DOCTOR WHO. KNEW ABOUT THE WHOLE JOHN SMITH ALIAS THING. CAPTAIN AMERICA WATCHES DOCTOR WHO. I AM IN TEARS REMEMBERING ALL OF THIS.
anyways, we took pictures, i cried when i walked out, thought you all ought to know. the end.
This dude knows his stuff. He’s the same Cap that I saw during my bachelorette party. When I gave him a drawing as a gift for his upcoming July 4th ‘birthday’, I mentioned I thought he would appreciate it because I knew he had gone to art school before the war. He GRINNED so big and said "Wow, no one ever remembers that!"
He also made me punch his shield because I had my Winter Soldier jacket on.
Disney, KEEP HIM, HE’S PERFECT