R.I.P. Marvin Wilson

I’m an undergraduate student at UNCW who happens to be queer as well as a muslim immigrant, and I have spent the last two years of my life being harassed relentlessly by a tenured professor who insists on comparing me to ISIS, sending his students and supporters after me to make death threats, writing blog posts about me claiming it’s not possible for me to be queer and muslim, slandering me in his classes, and ultimately doing everything he can to use his power, privileges, and platforms over me to make my life hell to try and stop me from speaking out against injustice. The university has been letting him do this since my freshman year and it’s only gotten worse these past few months.

This professor (who is 30+ years older than me, by the way) wrote an article about me called ‘A ‘Queer Muslim’ Jihad?’ outing me, comparing me to militant Islamic groups, attacking my intelligence, diagnosing me with mental illnesses I don’t have, and just being the most despicable kind of person you could be.

And if the article ITSELF wasn’t bad enough the comments are even better! :) 

Not to mention that, because he used my full name, his supporters have been blowing up my Facebook with horrible comments and really despicable threats. Almost all of these people being 40+ year old white men doing this to a 19 year old girl.

I tried to talk to my university about this and let them know that I was tired of having to defend myself, my name, my sexuality, my religion, my EVERYTHING from a professor who is in a higher position of power over me and they told me they couldn’t do anything because he’d just sue the university. 

And I’m just tired. I’m really, really tired. And I want all of you to see what the fuck I’ve been having to deal with and know why I legitimately do not want to continue my education somewhere where I continuously have to be called a jihadist. I don’t want to be threatened anymore. I don’t want to be demeaned. I don’t want to be stuck in an environment that deems this sort of behavior as okay. And I don’t know what to do.

Here’s a link to the article though. [x]

UNCW Chancellor: [email protected]

UNCW Vice Chancellor: [email protected]

UNCW Dean of Students: [email protected]

UNCW Head of Diversity:  [email protected]

Black children have suffered enough.

Not just the media … elected officials are more concerned with her diagnosis than his rape allegations. The pre-trial hearing in federal court is rescheduled for October 14 @ 10AM. 

When I was a child, from the time I was about four and could understand things, my mom told me and my brother that we should have a secret word. That way, if we were ever in trouble or felt unsafe and we didn’t want the people around us to know we needed her to come get us, we could let her know. So she let us pick the word and my brother and I chose the phrase “peanut butter cups.” (I’m happy to share the phrase now since both my brother and I are adults now). 

I used the phrase twice in my life. Once, I was at a friends house when I eight years old. Her dad got really drunk and was throwing things against the wall. I was really scared and I didn’t want to draw attention to myself on the phone when I called my mom to come get me because I didn’t know if he would get more violent if I asked her to come get me. So I called her and was calm and after a couple minutes I asked “Hey mommy, did you get me those peanut butter cups from the store?” And she said “I’ll be right there.” And she came and got me within minutes. 

Second, I was a teenager spending the night at a friends house. Her brother and dad were drinking and they started talking about things that made me uncomfortable - ie: what they liked to do to women. My friend didn’t seem perturbed and said that was normal for them and that I shouldn’t worry. But I was worried because they were really drunk and I was 15 and the only ‘woman’ around that wasn’t related to them. I went in my friends room, told her I needed to call my mom and say goodnight. Before I hung up with her I asked “Next time we go to the store, can we get some peanut butters cups? I’ve been craving them.” And she came and got me, just like that. 

pan·sex·u·al panˈsekSH(əw)əl/ adjective not limited in sexual choice with regard to biological sex, gender, or gender identity.

i identify as pansexual. this was my first art show, and my first art pieces i’ve shown to the world in a gallery. i’m blessed to have the space to be who i am and to freely express myself as a human on this earth. this is my way of expressing myself and a dedication to colors! PINK pink. pink is the color we associate with femininity because society has taught us that pink is the color of girls. pink is for girls. pink can’t be tough. pink has to be soft. but what was ever wrong with that? what’s wrong with pink being soft? and who ever said that it can’t be aggressive? pink is the color of breast cancer awareness (now that’s fucking tough) and pink is the color that we use to feel sexy. tell me that that isn’t empowering. Model: Marti MUA: Erin Pea Stylist: Annie Blanford

YELLOW yellow. yellow is the color that we gravitate towards for neutrality. yellow is the color of my skin. yellow is the color we associate with happiness (thanks to sunflowers) and sadness (thanks to van gogh). yellow is all that in between. yellow is the gray matter of the color spectrum. everyone looks bomb in yellow. yellow is a color of healing. yellow is the color of your solar plexus chakra. i hope you heal today. Model: Bass Seck MUA: Alex Nash

BLUE blue. blue is the color we associate with masculinity because society has taught us that blue is the color of boys. blue is for boys. blue can’t be sad. but, blue is melancholy and nostalgic. blue is the color that picasso chose to evoke a feeling. blue is soft, actually. the color of water - the most adaptable. and it’s okay to cry. why would that ever affect your masculinity anyway? Model: Selena Solis MUA: Alex Nash Teardrop PS Design: Devin Turk Teardrop Handmade Design: Sandy Araujo