Yasmine Tadross

You are tokenized, Once you occupy the margins, you are then seen as the prop A puppet for diversity, To show the University is making the changes necessary to be "inclusive and diverse" speaking of the words, they are just a buzz word to replace racism, white supremacy and other systems that put people at the margins They want all the colors of the rainbow, but without the substance Speaking of substance, the students who work with you are complete shit heads It is a throwback to high school, people expect too much from you and don't seem to mind their own fucking business. It becomes a toxic environment when marginalized people are in the environment. It becomes a competition of who is the most marginalized and who can be the better trans person or brown person or insert marginalized identity here. I hated it and after quitting the job it has forced me to look at myself and what I want. It is a first of many steps to happiness, but I need to figure out the n...

I don't know what to write about most days Because every day it feels harder and harder to grasp for air my soul slowly draining as I encounter a sea of whiteness when I leave my doorstep Most days I don't know what type of person I should occupy Every time I see a group of more than 4 people, I have the urgency to leave I don't enjoy company anymore I don't want to leave my house Within Predominantly White Institutions, There is a need for marginalized people to pit against each other in order to claim a seat at the table I always never understood that because that is just capitalism For me, I occupy multiple realms, I am Afro Egyptian Alternative Trans Woman Hairy Femmine human person daughter sister Low-income first generation, I am me I am defined by my lineage, not by labels I will never compete with you because the master's tools will never dismantle the master's house My foremothers are Audre Lorde and Marsha P Johnson Blood-derived from t...

These days, I wake up in the morning and all I know is a deep anger for the world  and my surroundings filled with fair trade coffee and loving the idea of girls like me but discarding me when I am fully visible  My rage is never valued  As an Afro- Egyptian, black, hairy, trans woman  I often think that all I am to be is angry  I keep thinking that the world will fail me So I figured that I might beat them to the punch  I will just reject every human who encounters me  Drag them before they even say anything The only way that love can come about is if we validate our own rage When we fucking scream before we reach a state of compassion My rage will not be silenced Neither the rage of intersectionally marginalized people because silence never protects us I have lost most of my hope for this country But I love this country enough, though it does not love me back I love it enough to critique the living shit out so I can help...

In moments when the printer get jammed with paper I bang my head against the wall to numb the pain The thoughts of certain people help me carry on through the day To you, Your blue eyes, thick black frame glasses, and brown hair Sitting across from you on Saturday mornings drinking allowed me to be calm when we say goodbye I always seem to extend the hug longer and hold onto you because I am afraid what it would be like when you're gone I know we can never be more than friends but, I think I like being friends I know that whatever will happen, you will be with me I just hope you feel the same about me To my mothers, sisters, and siblings on the East Coast, Thank you for being one of the few women to truly embrace me From the baggage to the light blue lipstick Dunkin Donut coffee runs That brings joy to time that was an uphill battle Fantasizing about what tiny house we should buy and where in Colorado should we put You all have shown me what unconditional love l...

Welcome to my self-destruction, Where my brother tells me that he cares, but uses me for his own gain he benefits from my own failures so he can access my parent's love, when he sees my successes he discredits them by finding the slightest imperfections and capitalizing the flaws for his profits Welcome to my self-destruction, Where friends neglect me in the name of progress They care when it suits them, not when urgent I wear my heart on my sleeve I bear my brown hairy womanhood to them but seem to focus on the blue lipstick that I put on Very few actually look at me, I mean look at me Not just the blue and purple dresses, brown hair wigs, and lipstick but the bags under my eyes, the mornings where I can barely get out of bed, the times which I look in the mirror and not even recognize what I am or hating myself so much to the point I start to hate others At least with my brother, he is open about what he does Dear world, You have all failed me and I h...

Why do we deny ourselves pain? Rage is a figment of our imagination The idea of taking an old brown wooden chair and bash it towards our oppressors' backs seems like a dream in which one day, I can take a deep breath without my arms and my legs twitching the idea that the people who have called me a faggot, sand nigger, disgusting, and terrorist the people who have told my mom to neglect her Arabic tongue and have tried to put her in her place To lay down on the cold, blue, concrete floor drenched in their blood But Rage is something only few can access Mom and I are nothing, but similar in other facets We both have been told to keep our chins up, back straight, and always smile even when your body is too numb to have the lips stretched out into a smile We both don't have a choice At times the only times I get to see the real her is when she calls her mother in Egypt She misses her Spiced Fava Beans, her homemade bread, her willingness to love everyone That is ...

I am just a fetish, When a white boy tried to play with my trauma in order to have sex with me He told me that I was beautiful for my light brown skin as he never wanted to give me pleasure  because like capitalism, he commodified my brown body for an orgasm and left me vulnerable on the white, cracked sidewalk    I am just a fetish, when straight cisgender white and women of color only care about my lipstick How I look on stage, but not when I talk they wonder how I look, but not how I am going to get home tonight  When I tell them that people say I am ugly, disgusting, and a fa***t they just say that I am beautiful and move on to the next thing as if I am worthy of my own violence I am just a fetish, When people compare my womanhood to Caitlyn Jenner  Even though she is like the countless other white women  who told my mother to only speak English I am just a fetish, When I am up on stage  Heart o...