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the thing to realize here is that conservatives find the idea of paying workers a livable wage so absurd that they make hyperbolic comparisons like this

because fifteen dollars and hour and a hundred thousand dollars an hour both mean the same thing to them; more than you deserve

^That commentary is very important.

My family point blank said no none that works a minimum wage job deserves more than ten dollars and then immediately after complained about how little money I make.

(Source: -teesa-)

Yesterday, I spent 60 dollars on groceries,
took the bus home,
carried both bags with two good arms back to my studio apartment
and cooked myself dinner.
You and I may have different definitions of a good day.
This week, I paid my rent and my credit card bill,
worked 60 hours between my two jobs,
only saw the sun on my cigarette breaks
and slept like a rock.
Flossed in the morning,
locked my door,
and remembered to buy eggs.
My mother is proud of me.
It is not the kind of pride she brags about at the golf course.
She doesn’t combat topics like, ”My daughter got into Yale”
with, ”Oh yeah, my daughter remembered to buy eggs”
But she is proud.
See, she remembers what came before this.
The weeks where I forgot how to use my muscles,
how I would stay as silent as a thick fog for weeks.
She thought each phone call from an unknown number was the notice of my suicide.
These were the bad days.
My life was a gift that I wanted to return.
My head was a house of leaking faucets and burnt-out lightbulbs.
Depression, is a good lover.
So attentive; has this innate way of making everything about you.
And it is easy to forget that your bedroom is not the world,
That the dark shadows your pain casts is not mood-lighting.
It is easier to stay in this abusive relationship than fix the problems it has created.
Today, I slept in until 10,
cleaned every dish I own,
fought with the bank,
took care of paperwork.
You and I might have different definitions of adulthood.
I don’t work for salary, I didn’t graduate from college,
but I don’t speak for others anymore,
and I don’t regret anything I can’t genuinely apologize for.
And my mother is proud of me.
I burned down a house of depression,
I painted over murals of greyscale,
and it was hard to rewrite my life into one I wanted to live
But today, I want to live.
I didn’t salivate over sharp knives,
or envy the boy who tossed himself off the Brooklyn bridge.
I just cleaned my bathroom,
did the laundry,
called my brother.
Told him, “it was a good day.”

Kait Rokowski (A Good Day)

oh my goodness. I have no words.

(via taytippett)

This gave me goosebumps.

(via phaggott)

(Source: justsingyourlifeaway)


The great American dream…enjoyed by many non-American countries…is denied to the majority of Americans…

Map above: “You can see what my colleague Derek Thompson calls the geography of the American Dream in the map below. It shows where kids have the best and worst chances of moving up from the bottom to the top quintile—and that the South looks more like a banana republic. (Note: darker colors mean there is less mobility, and lighter colors mean that there’s more).”

According to the Pew Research Center [1], in 1971, 61% of all American households fell under the “middle class” designation. Today, that number is 51%. And, right now, 35 percent of U.S. households live on $35,000 or less each year.

So, as the middle-class in America continues to shrink, it should come as no surprise that a new study out by The New York Times reveals that American children have very little chance of climbing out of the social and economic class that they’re born into.

Or, in other words, social mobility in America is non-existent.

According to the NYT study, a third of Americans studied who grew up in the top 1 percent made $100,000 by the age of 30.

Only 1 out of every 25 Americans who grew up in the bottom half of America’s income distribution was making the same amount at the same age.

Meanwhile, as social and economic mobility have decreased, income inequality has skyrocketed.”


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