During one visit, Ruth noticed the nurses would draw straws, afraid to go into one room, its door sealed by a big red bag. She asked why and the nurses told her the patient had AIDS.

On a repeat visit, and seeing the big red bag on the door, Ruth decided to disregard the warnings and sneaked into the room.

In the bed was a skeletal young man, who told Ruth he wanted to see his mother before he died. She left the room and told the nurses, who said, "Honey, his mother’s not coming. He’s been here six weeks. Nobody’s coming!”

Ruth called his mother anyway, who refused to come visit her son, who she described as a "sinner" and already dead to her, and that she wouldn't even claim his body when he died.

“I went back in his room and when I walked in, he said, "Oh, momma. I knew you’d come", and then he lifted his hand. And what was I going to do? So I took his hand. I said, "I’m here, honey. I’m here”, Ruth later recounted.

Ruth pulled a chair to his bedside, talked to him

and held his hand until he died 13 hours later.

After finally finding a funeral home that would his body, and paying for the cremation out of her own savings, Ruth buried his ashes on her family's large plot.

After this first encounter, Ruth cared for other patients. She would take them to appointments, obtain medications, apply for assistance, and even kept supplies of AIDS medications on hand, as some pharmacies would not carry them.

Ruth’s work soon became well known in the city and she received financial assistance from gay bars, "They would twirl up a drag show on Saturday night and here'd come the money. That's how we'd buy medicine, that's how we'd pay rent. If it hadn't been for the drag queens, I don't know what we would have done", Ruth said.

Over the next 30 years, Ruth cared for over 1,000 people and buried more than 40 on her family's plot most of whom were gay men whose families would not claim their ashes.

you can go as loud as you want

or keep it simple

stick to the neutrals 

or go on all out galaxy chic

go out sultry

or go out sweet

cause your skin is so versatile

that there’s no such thing as “the right colour”

be a goddamn mermaid if you like

 dress down

or up

go natural

or not

you’ll still look flawless

so go ahead and shower in gold

or do nothing at all

cause at the end of the day

“A Thread of Tips” by Shelby

The Rito, Gerudo, and Gorons are all like: “You know… you really remind me of the hero from so long ago…”

this is what so many people are failing to understand when they whine about how youth rights advocates should stop concerning ourselves with silly little things and just worry when there’s “real abuse” happening. the two causes are one and the same. perpetuating the idea that children are morally obligated to be submissive primes them for abuse. perpetuating the idea that parents must be dominant in order to be fulfilling their responsibilities encourages them to be abusive.

stop praising kids for submissiveness. stop remarking on how “good” they are when they don’t argue or complain. stop equating “respect” with obedience. stop calling a child “well-behaved” when what you really mean is that they’re being silent and taking up as little space as possible.

instead, praise kids for goodness and moral strength that come from within. recognize them for acts of kindness and selflessness. show pride in them for helping others. encourage them when they take responsibility. support them when they stand up for themselves.

stop praising parents for dominance. stop expressing wonder at their ability to keep their children on a short leash, to silence them with a word, or to strike fear into their hearts with a look. stop looking impressed when parents gleefully expound on all the ways they’ve been “tough” on their kids.

instead, praise parents for cultivating good human relationships with their kids. tell them how great it is to see them make their kids smile. recognize them for respecting their kids, for talking to them like people. encourage them to spend time just hanging out with their kids, in moments that aren’t about teaching or correcting or giving orders. recognize the courage it takes for them to admit when they’re wrong. support them when other adults cast judgmental eyes because they’re not being disciplinarians.